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Les diagrammes suivants lilustrsnt la mAthode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 ■Sl^i ^(* i^ibliotli^iBationalebuiaue^ "•; (J fflyE^M¥'^ i^iSilBaiiaiilF ILOIDIMIE^ If (2), IX 'M' 59989 ♦# » \'".i %} ■* f» 'r-i :& *• y-^ w^ f ^v'- O l\ V li K S JESUIT MISSIONARY; A TALE OF THn OS St: I ^ NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS. » « • • • . , • • • • » ♦ * *, ' * • i « « • • « • « * « « t 4 • • By JAME^'McSllEKriY; FTsii^' ••^•^ * i(^J •• % • c , • • • « . • i • • I « « « « t — f — V « • ♦ ^ i • • • '> • » * o J. BALTrMORE: gl'KINTED AND ITBLfSr^JIEl) \\\ J >ILK1»HY, §^ I 7 8 M A B K F, T S T R E E T . DUBLIN : R. GRACE iV S jNS. Pittsburg: geo. quigley. e«»LD BY BOOKSELLKRS <»l M i( M.r,Y. 1847* K ■p^^worv ■^M»»%»»i »'!»■» ittam'*0iflitr yt0 m # w « » ■ •1'%} '0 A ElffD AND AFFECTIONATI FATHEB BT A aBATBFUL SON s «jjtk ,«-^ % PREFACE. r The inientioii of tho writer of the following tale baa [been to portray, at least indifltinctly, one of tboae mag- [nificent scenes in which the Jesuits of the Canada lissions were actors, in the early settlement of that country. The sufferings of the missionary, bis in- lomitable courage in the apostolate, and the effect of /hrlstianity upon the Indian convert, are the principal >int8 of the picture which he has desired to present, though he has not dared to enter into all the terrible letails of the Mohawk torture, as it was too often mdured by tbose patient and heroic martyrs. The foun- ition of the ftetion is laid upon the histoiy of Father Tsaac Jogues ; though the rescue in the story is enthrely ictitious. Yet its general bearing is not at variance ith the ruuUi of his adventures* f reiVBrick, Md. Sept 6, 1846. /« f\ feS !;>?:. :,#.vv-'i> '^ li^-:!^- '■^ 4 s-r ^^jr= ^■l■ , tv ,Vi >};i . -''>'■'.*■ r^t:' ■fy" -A i:!^ ■?-i?*^ rV' V \Mii- ^^-'f'', .'if^E^'ip s^^ • v^i-* ■*f i'ssp :-iSK. '¥<* :i:i m ir ^f r .y».>j5,.«jyi ^M:^^ ■liS SV' I'^W: „• 1 W Vt^'*^ .ip-^'.^'fe.^'^--' V' m •\v. "v' ^ ' j*^'* :4^ i. vi**i.Jf- .'..^ '•*■. .■•«? 'ft- -• ^, ^;. -^i'K '^'' ■'■•;.; ',■■ ;i^'' ' - ■ - ■■'-''"■■■ -«■ V'- ''" ■ ■-. ■■ -';/1^ '^•■- -'^ ■ • > ■■-. -: ^' . ■ ' ..■;. ■-' . "■ ■■ " '■■■■ ■- ,- -'-■•■-" '"-^'- : , ^^ CONTENTS. fu AFTER l.«-~The Missionary, .... .'. »page 9 II.-^The Departure, . , 17 IJ[.---The Instruotion, S5 IV.— Night upon the Waters, ...,.,,,..••. 39 V ^The Conflict,. ,,..,,.,..., .,, 65 V 1 1*^*! no iriom, f4««*t**«<«« •••• ••••••••• 04 Vll.— The Return, •,...•.,,.,.... «...10B VIII.— Baptism in Bondage, , 135 IX. — The Council, ,,,,,.,,.,.,156 X.— The Torture, 193 Xr.— The Wreath of Wild Flowers,,...... saa XU.— The Conclusion, fi|«»'»'^ ^j* "' ■ :'-\''-:.'\i'--\ ' 'Ul'-"' •■■■•■■ ■'w-"*- ■ f _ . '^l .. ■"■• ^~ -' t •vp-*:v; "« ;^ -. I, ii -if-', ' ., 7t -' , :* fS. ■1 r % *'j ^' '^ ' 'J' 1 * J . >fi . J*. :3^ .Vff r,, „^-i ij^; i^i:* .l!^'^ ^la^ ^rn'Mi-..- ■-■ -■ ^ . * 'i - i >./:-r ,:-fr- ■ •-• Errata.— PJige 90, line 4tli, for lasty read second, « 111, »* 15lh, « ats(, « ea«<. > .■ ,.-^^'*^ ''l '^■f *"*'("'.■ f ■^ ■ ; 'U/i "-'^t ■•»•■ vH^si-<' 4^' ')k\^ ■:*'- «^^?v^'^'^'^?^ ^ ''^0'- ■"■■ ^^ , ^^>■ *!" .J,'*;V»i ■ »^' ;■ ■ - iV - : , -)■ .'< -^J:^. . ^ T "t ^r J. ■'I .i^ i' !Z%e Missionary. N the year of our Lord 1642 the va- rious missionary stations of the Jes^ its throughout Canada^ or New France^ it was then called^ were threatened wit^ 1 the wild fury of the savage and un- mable Iroquois. The Five Nations hac^ roved themselves the most unconquer- le in their hostility to the white man^ the religion which he taught^ and the vilization which he endeavored to intrq^ Lce. In vain had overtures of peace en made. For a time^ perhaps^ as i^ umbering from indolence or exhaus- n^ they ceased to ravage^ but it was only. 2 ^ 10 PERE JEAN, •1^ 7^: to break forth again with more furious energy. Their bands of braves " ranged the illimitable forests " with no power to control them, and no rivals whom they dreaded. They traversed the St. LaW- rence and lakes Erie and Ontario, add they struck their enemy upon the shores of lake Champlain. fLJL^ Every missionary on his way to his dis- tant station was in constant danger^ of . captivity and death ; and yet never were those stations left unfilled . for want of brare and devoted men to ^dare all the terrors of the route, and the chances of .enduring the torture at the villages of the Mohawks. The path to the Huron mis- sions was perhaps more completely beset uian any other, for the Iroquois had suc- ceeded in cutting off, or at least in inter- rupting the communication between Up- per and Lower Canada. They had pos- session of the intermediate passes. la duebec^ in that year, the feast of St. OR THE MISSIONARY. 11 urious ranged wer ip n they LaW- 10, arid shores ist of St. gnatius, the foundeV of the Society of esus, was celebrated with no ordinary plendo^^^ The fathers on that joyous oc- ifasion offered up with full hearts the glori- |>us crown of souls, gathered from the |eilderness — gathered up to the " greater ^onor of God '^ by the sons of St. Igna- |(us, from the wandering children of the ^rest. It was no feeling of earthly glory of human pride that swelled within eir hearts as they raised them up to- ards heaven, throbbing high with exult- on. It was not the triumph which htens un the eye of the worldly con- eror and curls his lip, that made their p more stately, and their pale features w with an unwonted flush. They were iritual soldiers; and they felt, in their arts, the glory of their calling and the rtial joy of victory over the infernal emy against whom they battled. Many ull, deep voice trembled as it chanted solemn service; age prayed with its ■*" rfei, . :•■, ijik :£Lii**«i.. 12 PERE JEAN^ chastened calmness; youth vowed to make itself more worthy of the glorious founder under whose banners ihey were enlisted in the service of God. Deep was the feeling that pervaded all hearts on that memorable festival. ^ ^^^'' ' ^^ Among the priests who knelt at the al- tar^ was one remarkable for his worn and sunburnt aspect. A little beyond the full prime and strength of manhood^ with the nobility of nature stamped upon his bro he was a man calculated to strike the at- tention of all who looked upon him. And yet there was nothing hard or stem in those grave, calm features; they were the true picture of a good and gentle heart ; a mind tutored in the patient and enduring school of Xavier and Loyola ; a will subdued and mortified. Father Jean Laval was preparing himself for a renewal of his ar- duous mission in the western wilderness. A few weeks of rest and relaxation had elapsed since he had completed the peril- OR THfi MISSIONARY. 13 ous voyage from the missions at the falls of St. Mary, between lakes Huron and Superior, and now he was assisting for the last time for many months, it might be for ever, with his brethren of duebec, at the holy mystery of the altar. And yet the perilous voyage before him did not ap- pear Xq weigh upon his mind. Abstracted from all earthly things, his soul seemed only the more closely wrapt in the contem- plation of things heavenly. Not so with Fmany a full heart in thatthronged temple of God : but the fulness of their hearts only made them mingle more fervently with their prayers the name of him on whom their eyes now rested with such deep love and admiration. He was going once more to that nation of pious Indiansof whom they had heard such joyful tidings — who clus- tered to the true altar of Grod in thousands ; a Christian people in the wilderness. He was going to enlarge the empire of the gos* pel, to plant the cross in new regions, to face 14 P£EE JEAN, new dangers^ it might be to win a mar- tyr's crown. It was a noble spectacle to them, a spectacle of Christian, chivalric devotion. *'* At length the last chant of the solemn mass had ceased to swell in the crowded aisle ; the benediction had been given, and, silently and with holy recollection, the worshippers departed to their homes. A small group of Indians alone remained before the church. In a few moment Father Laval, in his cassock, accompa-" nted by another priest of his order, issued from the sacristy, where he had disrobed, and advanced towards them. "My dear children," he said, " all my arrangements are completed : we will de- part to-morrow. Our superior so wills it." " It is good," replied one of their num- ber, who appeared to be the chief of the party. " Ahasistari hears his father, the blackgown." ■hf^ OB THS MISSIOKART. rs ti At day-break, then, sachem- 99 i( The Hurons will be ready.'' And fhe party separated. Father Laval and his companion pursuing their walk lo th« touse of their order. ''Ah, my Triend, what a glorious lot is rours! You go to carry the cross of Ihrist to the heathen ! Oh ! shall we not mvy you the inestimable happiness of be- ing thought worthy of such high honor 1'f ^rvently exclaimed the companion of 'ather Laval. ' - • p *' No, my brother; rather pray for me that my unworthine§i may not tender frukless the prayers df the good and inous in behalf of the benighted Indi^^m. And 7et it is a glorious field of labor; soriek, \o sweet, so full of iMnsoIation ; all its toils and dangers jvdlJ^piid by the happy privilege of winning sovli^to God." " And happy are the auspiqes^ Father [Laval t On this festival! of our gieal [saint, you prepare to add new glory to hii 16 .V. PBRE JEAN. SiO jiji-!Ja H name on earth, by bringing new children to the fold of Christ.^'- ^..,. .^^. ...^^ '' And to-morrow. Father Anthony, to- morrow is the feast of Uhe chaim of St. '* Happy coincidence, my Brother," ex- claimed Father Anthony. " You go on that day forth to bind the savage in the chains of Peter, to win wandering chil- dren to the footstool of his master.'' ** Or to wear my chains like him ; bu alas! I am not deserving of such favor. I shall not be deemed worthy of suffering for him who died for me. Oh, happiness ! oh^ bliss! I dare not hope for thee! "41*41 ^* Happy apostle ! happy in the chains and suffering you may be worthy of en- during. We, thy^thren^ seek a remem- brance in tbf ptItKmf' %. I ^ ^'Father Aidbny Datiiel," said the^ oiissienary, slowly and thoughtfully, as Aey reached the end of their walk, '^it iMl be thine next." r%^m. ■^■M$r^ ■i* mm^^-mmxM- i^^mi^^-i^ «v rt , ^t!i^:tiltt^ ■ /t. .•I >t. ^..V ftlftCi The Departure. N the following morn, the first day of August, a gallant fleet of war ca- oes floated gaily from beneath the guns of brt €luebec. The plumed and painted In- dians, bowing their strength to the paddles, ent their light and graceful barks rapidly nto the mid-waters of the broad St Law- rence. The sun was just rising, and breaking dim and red Q|rough the heavy mists that overhung the riter : yet ere the last canoe swept into the line, the veil of vapor began to disappear before its power- ful rays. Breaking into light clouds, it 18 PERE JEAN, rose and floated slowly away towards the south, while streams of sunshine poured brightly through each opening, lighting up the earth with a rich glow, and cloth- ing the placid bosom bf the river vriin a robe of gold. As the mist dispersed, ^i^e scene around became distinct ki its full beauty, and the infant city seemed to waken up to life and actirity. A crowd of citizens stood upon the quay, gazing eager- ly and fondly on the receding fleet, as if i^ contained some dear object upon which,' perhaps, they might be looking for the last time. ■-^^m'^ In the rearmost and largest canoe were the only two white men of the party — Father Jean Laval and his young assistant, the novice, Rene Bour^ise. Ouiding tfaa canoe in whiek luey sat, Ahasistari, the chief, seemed to guard their comfort and convenience as the first object of his caie. The vigorous arms of the Indian rowers impelled the canoes westward up OR THE MISSIONARY. 19 ds the oured hting clo'h- ^iih a dy ;iAe 8 full ed to wdof >ager- s if ij hicb]* r the were itant^ iding uar i, . afort fhia dian 1 up the St. Lawrence, and when the fotemosi was about disappearing to the view of the party on the quay. Father Laval arose in [the trembling bark, and extending k^ lands towards heaven, invoked again that riessing upon their pilgrimage, which he lad, already, in company with his breth» (n and the whole people, so earnestly be- lought. Then, with an affectionate wave if his hand, he bade adieu to his distant riends, and, resuming his seat, bowed his lead in silent prayer. At the same in- itant a wreath of smoke^, accompanied ^ith a bright flash, burst Irom the walls upon the heights of Abraham, and the ;^ heavy sullen roar of cannon swept in a moment more across the waters, while the cloud of smoke rose slowly and spirally itowards the heavens. Father Laval raised his head and gazed for a single instant upon the standard of France, as it waved over the impregnable fortress, and then resumed his prayer and meditation. No 20 PERE JEAN, sound now broke upon the ear butthe slight splash of the paddle, as it dipped lightly but vigorously in the stream, and the mbr- Buring of the rippling current around the sharp bow of the canoe in its rapid course. The young novice looked upon the bright, glad scene around him with a sub- dued pleasure, now curiously watching the lithe and active forms of the graceful Indians as they bent their strength to their paddles, and now casting his eye towardi^^ the glorious scenery that bordered on the^ St. Lawrence. Perhaps scarce twenty summers had he numbered, and yet he seemed already to have drank in the severe yet serene lessons of the Jesuit school of endurance. Parting from the midst of civilized men, going unarmed and de- fenceless^through paths waylaid by a re- morseless enemy», he exhibited no fear, no regrets ; in the midst of novelty aad the unequalled beauty of the view around, he permitted no extravagant sign ot. delight <* OR TH£ MISSIONARY. 21 to escape his lips. He subdued the trans- port of his feelings into the calmness of tranquil enjoyment, and by his silence and serenity won the admiring regard of the stern warriors of the Hurons. - ^ At length Father Laval addressed him : ** Rene, my son, we have entered happily upon our arduous journey. How beauti* ful is this earth around us, which God has given to man for the scene of his pilgrim- age. He is a good God, my children, in- finitely loving : if he has thus cared for our happiness here, in this sojourn on earth, what has he not prepared for the faithful and persevering servant in heaven? Let us meditate upon his infinite goodness, and mercy, and love. It is fitting thus to begin and consecrate our labors.'^ ^ ^ The Indians assented with fhe usual short and subdued exclamation : and for a space no sound was heard save the regu- lar strokes of the paddles, while the canoe proceeded with unslackened speed. After 22 PERE JEAN^ some time spent in meditation^ the good priest employed himself in reciting his of- fice^ and Rene Bourdoise gazed calmly down towards the receding towers of duebec until he caught the last glimpse of the lofty flag-staff bearing the banner of St. Dennis. As the scenery became wilder and more desolate^ his mind began to re- cur to the bright scenes of his native land^ and to visit once more the beautiful and populous valleys of France. The recol- lection of home and early friends^ of pa- rents and distant kindred^ came rushing upon the youths casting a dark and gloomy hue upon the prospects before him. Deso- lation and danger seemed to deepen round him ; yet^ suppressing these thoughts with a single aspiration^ he placed himself un- der the invocation of the Virgin^ and de- voted himself without reserve to the will of God. ■• .?' ' '^ 4'i^^^^ ^- It was in this spirit, and with such dis- posiiione^ that the whites of the party en- 'i\:*W OR THE MISSIONARY. 23 J good his of. ^almly ers of impse nerof wilder to re- land^ \l and recol- .% >fpa. sbing ooiny Oeso- ound with f un- I de- will dis- en- iered on their voyage. The Hurons were eemiDgly indiflferent to every thing but he comfort of those whom they were uiding and escorting to the hunting rounds of their tribe; and were only armed into life and animation by the rvor of their hearts when absorbed in eligious exercises. They displayed in liothing that there was danger of assault^ hilst they were prepared for any event. Father Laval^ after some time, closed his ook^ and turning towards the leader of he party, addressed him : " My son, what think you is the pros- ect of our safely passing, by the waters, to i^the Huron missions ? Were it not better to land and cross the forest towards the Ot- awa?'' After a moment^s pause, Ahasistari re- plied : ^* Father, the way is long and toil- some for the white man, and his trail is broad. The Mohawk crosses the river, and his eye is keen. The running waters "' ,*- 24 PERE JEAN. keep no trails and the Huron canoes are swift and easy. My father^ I swear to thee that Ahasistari will share thy fortunes whether of death or life ! " ^ ^ t ? * \ ''To your skill and judgment I confide the choice of the route — the issue is in the hands of the Almighty." ^ >: ^ll.JjV''» yi '*? '»'li 4'f^ !» • ■•• t> '• i|>n urn > f 5«- i '.mM-y:¥:il.^ ii,: ,,;<., -v^':* 5* '^^y ,^,if i,^ff r ^%i'-- .*' > -'. V' c ■ ■v- *;l*l; Ml* : :.r. ^d^%: ;y?b_^ti:4j^v. .. ^ /■ <:-■ ).'■ '■ >,* •> X' t. i' t i ? - CHAPTER IH. i 1" TV /mfruc^ion. 4... ' fU-^'^ |F the Indians^ who composed the escort of the missionaries^ some fere not yet baptized. All, however, had ^ard, with devout attention, the preach- ig of the Jesuit. They had listened to lim as the messenger of wonderful tidings, id had believed. But yet the careful priest fesitated long to admit to the regenerating raters of baptism those of their number 'ho, he feared, were not sufficiently in- structed in the faith of the Catholic church, 'he untaught Indian, accustomed to roam through the wilderness, with the works M 26 PERE JEAN^ of God for ever before his observant eyes, and with incomprehensibilities around him, unable to fathom the mysteries of nature, nay, the mysteries of his own life, felt within himself the conviction of a su- preme, invisible Existence. With the book of nature open before him, and na- ture's voice ever in his ear, he might well, by the dim light of reason, wander into the labyrinths of polytheism ; but it was impossible for him to stifle or forget the instinctive belief of humanity in the God invisible, supreme over all. The unlet- tered wanderer in the boundless forests had reached the same point of knowledge at which it bad been possible for the sage of antiquby to arrive* He worshipped the ^^ ui^own God.'' But the^machinery of the universe was beyond the power of his reason, and he found a minor deity in every bird and beast and fish and itet and stone. When the Catholic missionary preached to him of the God infinite, su- hal di \i 'S-. OR THE MISSIONARY. iS ind of life, su- the f preme, eternal, filling all space, at whose will the world and all its life and beauty had sprung into being, and at whose will the earth again would melt away, who was the Creator and the Lord of all, and ^^ in whom all things liveci and moved and had their being,'' to his unsophisticated mind, it seemed worthy of the great Spirit which his instinct had sought after in na*- ture, and beyond nature, in vain. The piety and zeal and superior know* ledge of the missionary had won him cre- dence, and when he preached to them of the Saviour who had come upon earth, of his death, and of his resurrectioti for the salvation of all, and unfolded to them the evidences of Christianity, they listened with reverence to his words, and cher^ ished them in their hearts. tr In his own canoe. Father Jean Laval had placed two of his neophytes for the purpose of continuing their instruction during the voyage, and Rene Bourdoise, 28 PERE JEAN, in order that he might be schooled in the best mode Oi conveying knowledge to the simple-minded savage. "Huron, dost thou know who created thee V^ he said, addressing the elder of the Iwo, a warrior of some note whose in- struction he had but lately commenced. ^' The great Spirit, who made the earth and the waters and the forests," replied Haukimah, reverently. " And, Huron, did he make the buffalo and the bounding deer?" "Yes, father; the buffalo and the bound- ing deer, and all things else that live." " And did he make thee and me like to iheml" " My fathers taught that the buffalo and the bounding deer departed to the hunting ground of spirits where the warrior's shade pursued them as here on earth. It is wrong. The blackgown teacheth that the great Spirit made man like himself, and breathed his breath into his nostrils— 19 as vei OR THE MISSIONARY. 29 |in the |to the eated fthe e in- led. earth ?plied iffalo mnd- te to and iting lor's It that lelf, 8 — 11 heaven was made for the man who doeth good. The wild beast dies and perish- es. 99 ' rr » '1? Father Jean Laval^ from the foundation of this simple questionings took occasion to explain fully and minutely^ and impress deeply upon the mind of those whom he was instructing^ the history of man's creation^ his fall^ and the promise of his redemption^ fulfilled by the coming, the passion, and the glorious death of the Sa- viour of the world. "* He told them how man's nature became corrupt by his fall; how he became perverse through his dis- obedience, prone to evil, subject to all the temptations of the devil. ,, ,». , " It is that which makes the Iroquois cruel and blood-thirsty," said the younger neophyte; "the spirit of evil is within him."''"'*"''^*--^""- -^^' -'-" ^' "-^-^-^r . f " As he is with all bad men, my son ; as he is with you when you indulge re- vengeful feelings towards the IroqnoiSj 30 P£R£ JEAN, when you would do them evil for evil. You raust love those who hate you." " Shall the Huron love the Iroquois?" exclaimed the young warrior as his eyes glistened with awakened passion^ and his head was elevated in disdain ; ^' shall the dove and the hawk nestle tCigether ?" ' - "Is the Huron a dove iu his heart?" broke in the deep stern voice of Ahasis- tari 5 ** the dove is tender. The Huron brave should be bold and fearless like the eagle." " - *' ' ^ * '* Let the Huron he a dove in his heart," said Father Jean Laval ere the young Indian could open his lips again ; " let him be a dove in purity, in meekness, in piety, in love. Let him be the eagle of his tribe when he battles in a just and lawful cause!" * ^^ " " My father has spoken well," replied the chief, in a changed and softened tone. *' Yes, my dear children, your first duty is to God, the great Spirit ; your next is «r OR THE MISSIOlCARr. 31 evil. I eyes id his ill the \9f -K rt V asis* uroa ethe ^^''f'Li . \ art/' oung "let s, in le of and lied )ne. uty tis ri % o your neighbor. The good Spirit created ou and all men to love him and serve im^ and he commands you to love one nother, even your enemies, to do good to hose that hate you. If the Iroquois is erceand bad, pity him, and pray that he ay become better, that he may listen to he messengers of Christ. If you hate the roquois, in what are you better than he ?" ^'It is good," said Ahasistari, ''it is like a God to forgive.'' - i- • And then Father Laval proceeded to inculcate upon his hearers the virtues which were necessary to, and which adorned the Christian, showing how the principles of religion were entwined around all the ties of life, and how they were connected with, and ruled every cir- cumstance of our mortal existence. He instructed them in the rules whicji should govern them in their intercourse with all men, and the charity so sublime and su- perhuman which they should cultivate in 32 V$¥ PKR£ J£AN> ft their hearts. Thus seizing every word and every trifling circumstance, he made them the occasion and the vehicle of use- ful instruction, and the means of initiating them into the spirit and practice as well as the doctrines of the Catholic church. Occasionally, to relieve their minds and to break the continuous length of his in- structions, he would interpose a prayer, and occupy himself in teaching them the responses to the litanies and the prayers of the rosary. They listened with docility, and learned with quickness the por- tions assigned to them, and the warriors seemed to vie with each other in acquir- ing that great and supereminent know- ledge which the father of the blackgown dispensed to them. Thrice a day, morn- ing, noon, and night, the Jesuit and Rene Bourdoise the novice, in accordance with their previously adopted resolution, re- cited the rosary to procure, through the intercession of the mother of God, the bless i I Ahasi 'wmi> OR THE MISSIONARY. 33 ■word ■ Bnade M ■ use- m lating ■ IwelJ ■ Ih, ^ land 1 8 la- wyer. 1 1 the ■ yeta H >'ity. B por- H iors mm uir- U )IV- 1 1 f blessings of heaven upon their mission. Ahasistari and the Catholic Indians joined io the responses with devoutness, and seemed never to weary under their labors while thu^ cheered with the refreshing dew of prayer. ; - . ,^ v; ^nm In this pious occupation^ the day passed pleasantly and quickly round. Father LavaU each time they landed to prepare their frugal repasts^ assembled the whole party around him^ gave them a short in- struction^, and; having blessed their food^ sat down upon the grass with them, and shared their frugal fare. . r As night approached, Ahasistari began to look about for a convenient spot to bivouac upon, and at length selected a beautiful and secluded indenture in the river banks, shaded by lofty trees, and protected and rendered almostimpenetrable from the land by the thick undergrowth, reaching some distance baek* from the shore. Here they landed^ and^ drawing ■./si^i. w 34 FERE JEAN; up their canoes upon the bank, prepared to pass the night upon the spot. After their evening meal had been despatche4. Father Laval was about to commence an instruction or exhortation to his compan- ions, when Ahasistari approached him re- spectfully, and said: V" < / ^ «^My father, the Mohawk may be abroad 5 his ear is quick ! *^ * . " Perhaps it is better,^' said Father La- '^al, carrying out the thought of the other, without replying directly to his words; *' my children, meditate, in silence, on what you have been taught this day, and pray to God for protection, invoking the intercession of Mary, our holy Mother.^' Wrapping themselves in their blankets, after bending their knees in silent prayer, the Indians stretched themselves upon the ground, and soon sunk into the light and watchful sleep of men accustomed to snatch their repose in the midst of danger. The Jesuit and Rene Bourdoise did not w OR THE MISSIONARY. 35 be so easily betake themselves to slumber. For the novice especially was it a situa- tion calculated to drive sleep from his eyelids until nature should sink into un- consciousness from exhaustion. As he lay wakeful and apprehensive, he turned his eye frequently upon the form of Aha- sistari, which, in the indistinct light, was barely discernible to the steady gaze. Oc- casionally a bright gleam from the expir- ing embers would lighten up the pictur- esque figure of the Indian. The warrior sat at the foot of a tree, resting his head upon his hand in a careless manner, which seemed to the young novice to be the at- titude of one wrapt in thought and con- templation. Ahasistari was meditating; but every outward sense was on the alert, eager to <;atch the slightest sound or mo- tion on the forest or upon the murmuring river. The stars were looking down from heaven sweetly and tenderly, shedding a dim light upon the moving waters, whose ■ " ^<^T''^'i"^'-'>^' 'i-'B*^^" 36 FERE JEAN^ broken surface reflected the countless pen- cils of light in myriad forms of quivering beauty. The unbroken silence of the forest was distinct and clear from the mur- muring of the waters on the shore with that distinctness which the listening ear, hanging over the crystal wave, can judge between the stillness and quiescence of the solemn grove and the sweet low music of the living stream. The air was mild and calm. It was a night to worship God in- .;" ■ The hours passed, and the motionless form of the watching Indian seemed to the dull and closing eye of the novice to swell into gigantic size, and then to shrink and fade away to nothingness, until, in the imperceptible sinking of his senses under fatigue and slumber, the beauteous scene around him passed from before his closed orbs, and his spirit began to wander in the sunny fields of his own dear France. How long he slept he knew not, but be ■■'■■( OR THE MISSIONARY. 37 jn- mg the lur- rith »ar, Ige the of ind fod was at length aroused by the hand of the Indian upon his shoulder. It was not yet day^ but every preparation had already been made to depart, and the kindness of the chief had permitted the young man to enjoy unbroken^ until the last moment^ the deep and refreshing slumber which had wrapped his senses. Leaping up from his hard couch, the young novice performed his morning devotions, and, having made his ablution in the running waters, was ready to take his seat in the canoe the moment it was launched. Father Laval had resolved that Rene Bourdoise and himself should occupy different canoes during the rest of the voyage in qrder that the young man might be employed as well as himself in instructing the catechu- mens, of whom, as we have already said, there was a number not yet fully pre- pared, scattered throughout the fleet. In a few moments the dark forms of the ca- noes shot out from the banks of the river. „ VP',' ■ '-I't i.~--_^J 38 FERE JEAN. Keeping within the verge of the heavy shadows of the overhanging woods, and pursuing their course rapidly and silently towards the new fort of Montreal. Ere the day dawned, they had proceeded many miles upon their journey, when, striking deeper into the current, the canoes drew oiU in a more extended line, and continued on their course, r w »V-~. '-i ■ J. '=■ ^ • S 'I '-,:"*-■ ?■ ■w% -i-? (^'■i-- ■■ '"■'■ . if-.; ,^, tt-:":;! J? ^(«t?'rr *y;|^*.; ,\. "^^ ;si#. ;:«^f ■^lll.j^vll*^' l?-v>* ivy ind < • • CHAPTER IV JMight upon the waters. n ••,«■:. '.-'ti (.■■'^J», EVERAL day a were happily passed in this manner^ and^ al* though the progress of the party had been regular^ the declining sun of the fourth dav found them still distant from the shel- tering walls of Montreal. As they were now in the most dangerous portion of their passage between the two forts^ it was determined not to land but to continue their voyage during the night ; the Indians relieving each other at the paddle^ and snatching a moment's repose^ while the canoes proceeded slowly^ and with dimin* ished force, up the river. .^Stretching themselves upon the bottom ^Irl ,#. 40 PERE JEAN^ of the canoes. Father Laval and Rene Bourdoise prepared to sleep, having com- mitted themselves to the keeping of God. The novice had already become in a man- ner accustomed to the novelty of his situa- tion, and its danger from familiarity began to lose the terror which it had at first pos- sessed. Sleep soon closed his eyes, for his heart was pure, and he had learned to iook'on death too long in the stern train- ing of the Christian soldier to dread his approach, come apparelled as he might. Even reflecting upon life, the Jesuit is taught to look to its last end, to value it as a means, worthless in itself, priceless when laid down to purchase immortal bliss. Death has no pangs for him ; for him it can not sever any earthly ties ; the only tie that binds him to this earth leads through the portals of the tomb to heaven. Those gates, to most men so dark and gloomy, are but the f-iumphalarch through which he shall pass when the victory OR '^HS MISSIONARY. 41 over sin and hell is won for him. Con- stant meditation has cooled his passions, stemmed their rapid flow, apd taught him well *the utter worthlessness of earthly pride and pleasures and possessions. He follows the command of the Saviour to the youth who sought the rule of perfection. He strips himself of earthly riches. He is ready then to go forth upon the world. Without staff or scrip or raiment, to do God's work, prepared for life or death in obedience to the will of his divine Master. Calmly and sweetly, trusting in the loving care of the mother under whose powerful intercession he had placed him- self, the novice slept the sleep of youth. Soft tones, old and fond remembrances, kind voices and familiar names seemed once more to mingle in his slumoering sense, with the light murmur of the rip- pling ware and the low music of the ze- phyr that fanned his cheek. Dear faces betuned upon him. He sat i i 42 i r PERE JEAN^ M -I the well worn and familiar hearth, and his gray-haired father smiled once more upon the son«he loved, the son of his old age vowed to the service of his God. For such was the youthful Rene : from child- hood dedicated to the altar, f)reathing the puje atmosphere of its unpolluted pre- cincts, conscious even in his father's house and in his early years of the solemn duty which lay before him for his future life. Sweetly came the recollection of his childhood's home, and those dear old faces, with their beaming smiles, melting from beneath the frosts of years of stem study and deep holy meditation, which had schooled his heart into higher, nobler thought^ ot sweeter, purer love — ^love to the Father of all fathers, engrossing and sublimating all true love in his young heart. But now in dreams fondly re- tracing many a thousand league, and many a toilsome year, the human spirit' true to its human nature, back tb its old OR THE MISSIONARY. 49 affecticL^ and its mortal ties went huny- ing — but not forgetful of it? own heaven-* ward destiny. It was pure happiness, pure infantile joy, such as in childhood he had felt — for now it seemed to him that once again he was a child — a thoughtless, gay, and cheerful child — without a care, without a fear, with no responsibility and with no feeling but of the present moment. The waters of the flowing river murmured in his ear, and fancy broke the changeless sound into some sweet old melody once sung to him by fond maternal lips. The light but quivering stroke of the bending^ paddle, swaying the fragile bark, and its soft and gentle motion as it cut the waters, focked him sweetly till he lay like an in- fant slumbering on its mother's breast. Thus slept the youthful novice. ^ -^ ^ ■^k Father Laval had more care upon his mind, and it was long before he gave way to the weariness that hung upon his eye- lids. He felt that the critical hour had ar? 44 PERE JEAN, 4 > rived ; for if the company once reached Montreal and commenced to ascend the Ottawa, there was less danger of being at- tacked by a force more powerful than their own. At length he too composed himself to slumber, confiding himself to the pro- tection of an all-seeing God. .,. , , . . . 4 As leader of the party, /^hasistari, insen- sible to fatigue when the safety of his charge might be at issue, watched all night. To the enduring nature of the In- dian this was little, and his band only sought occasional repose, in order that a portion might be fresh and prepared for any event. From the prow of his canoe, which had drawn from the rear to the head of the line, the chief scanned, with keen and watchful eye, either shore of the river as they ascended. But all nature slept, and it seemed as if with nature even thp fell heart of man was at rest. No maik or trace of an enemy met his eye ; for even in the dim light of the atsra the wondrous thi all T""" ' • "■■ OR THE MISSIONART. 45 sense of an Indian warrior might detect the presence of his foe, and the slightest sound, the breaking of a twig might be heard in the stillness of the hour over the murmuring waters. But all things were silent, and the chief began to hope that perhaps no Mohawks were out lying along the river, and that their passage would be made without difficulty or danger. But he did not become less watchful. ' *^-* At length the dark starlit canopy began to lighten up faintly towards the east Dim and almost imperceptible was the first precursor of the dawn, merely a lesser darkness. Thus it passed for many min- utes, making the summits of the far hills sharper and more distinct, and shrouding the lower forest in deeper gloom. Gradu- ally the view became more distinct, and a quick eye might barely trace the forms of nature. The canoes were now approach- ing a narrower portion of the river, and Ahasistari became more watchful than be- -^!S^' 46 P£R£ J£AN^ fore. At length his eye seemed to fix upon a portion of the forest that overhung the river above them on their route— then he raised it up towards the sky above the woods. The scrutiny did not seem to satisfy him^ and^ guiding the canoe from the shore so as to bring the object more to the lights he watched it as the barks moved on. The warriors in the rearward oanoes observed the motion, but^ with apparent in- diffekence^ still urged on their frail vessels knowing the skill and coolness of their leader. In a little while the motion of the canoe brought the top of that portion of the forest opposite a bright clear star^ and across its face for a single instant came a dimness like that caused by a thin^ wiry column of snioke or vapor. ..,. ...^*., ... . "Ugh!^^ exclaimed the chief, in the deep guttural tone peculiar to the Indian^ and, with a sudden motion of his paddle> he sent the canoe whirling in towards the southern shore under the shadows of OR TH£ MISSIQIIARY. 4T the hills. Then, staying its progress, he crouched close to diminish the risk of observation by any wandering eye that might be upon the shore. His example was silently followed, and soon the line of canoes lay within the verge of the dark shaiows motionless and seemingly unoc- cupied. Not a question was asked: no anxiety or curiosity was manifested ; the warriors coldly and impassively waited the motions of their chief. The keen eye of Ahasistari still scanned the forest with quick and suspicious glances, when a slight sound struck upon his ear : it seemed like the snapping of a twig beneath a light and cautious tread. The sound was very faint, but it did not escape the ear of a single warrior, the youngest and least practised. The Jesuit, who lay in the canoe of the leader, began to turn uneasily in his sleep, affected by the, change from motion to rest, and his breathing seemed to grow louder in the 48 P£RE JEAir^ Stillness of things around. Ahasistari pointed with his finger to the sleeping missionary^ and Haukimah^ the neophyte^ stooped down low over the good father^ and gently laid his hand upon his shoulder. In a moment Father Laval opened his eyes with a slight starts but the low '^ hist! '' and the finger of the neophyte pressed upon his lips^ indistinctly visible in the grey lights immediately recalled him to consciousness. A single glance enabled him to catch at least a general idea of the situation of affairs, and, raising his heart in prayer, he awaited with resignation the end, whatso- ever it might be. Similar was the awaken- ing of Ren6 Bourdoise. The young novice had sooner fallen into a deep and refreshing slumber, and the first checking of the speed of the canoe had startled him, and its ceasing had aroused him. Ob- serving the state of preparation around him^ his young French blood, fiery yet in spite of its cold training from worldly OR THE MISSIONARY. 49 feeling, began to glow as he thought that the enemies of France and the foes of his religion might perhaps be at chat moment lying within reach, and that battle between -man and man, in which he durst bear no part, might soon take place before his eyes. It was not without an effort that he sue- ceeded in restraining these feelings, and giving himself up to the weapons of prayer and humiliation of spirit. A young, teight, glowing heart had Rene Bourdoise. Wa- took, his pupil, who sat by his side, ob- served the mental struggle of the young ecclesiastic, and marked the sparkling of his eye, and his heart swelled with a deeper affection as he beheld the subdued workings of the noble spirit within. ** Will the young blackgown share Wa- took's weapons ?" he said in a low whis- per ; ^^ Watook has a keen and polished knife, and his carabine is sure^ — they shall be his brother's. Watook will use the weapons of his people." As he spoke, the 60 iU P£R£ JEaiff i%p generous young warrior drew the knife from his belt^ and tendered the arms to the young novice. ^ j, ... A%f»#c#***^rj m:A deep blush suffused the fine face of Rene Bouidoise. Ic was impossible to tell what feeling most predominated in the in- ward .struggle, and sent the evidence of shame tingling to his cheek ; whether was it the manhood and the spirit of flesh yet unsubdued within him, that scorned to act like a woman when the strife should come, and yet durst not receive the proffered weapons which must remain so idle in his hands ; or was it a conscious shame that his demeanor, forgetful of the bearing of the Christian messenger of love and faith, had wakened in the heart of the savage such thoughts as caused his offer, when he should have been preparing with silent prayer and resignation to win his martyr's crown /? lie gazed upon the weapons for a moment, but the training of the novice amidst silence and conteniplation, was \m OR THE MISSIONARY. Strong for the impulse of the passions^ and putiing them aside he said ir^-m.^^m imi^fwi^. " " Keep your arms^ my brother ! They would be useless in my hands ; I know not how to wield them. I am a man of peace. None vowed to the service of the altar may stain their hands in human blood, but mu^t submit to the trials which are given them. Oh, my Father!" he continued mentally, "who readest all hearts, forgive the sinful thoughts which carried me away, and stirred up the evil of my nature j" and bowing down his head, he sat composed and motionless, not less the wonder than the admiration of the young man, who saw that fear had nothing to do with conduct, to him, hitherto Uttle acquainted with the missionaries, so inex- < As the canoes swung in towards the shore impelled by an occasional stroke of the paddle, the current bore them some- what lower down the river. The descent ■ ■i«wt^i!if>7i.;""!'3^'T^;"'=,^^»'VM>'?'^''.'' ■■ 52 1.4 PERK JEAN, was endent ; for che trees upon the bank seemed slowly to pass by them, as it were, givin^ the appearance of rest to the canoes. The Indians did not endeavor to keep them on their former course, but permitted them to drop gently down the stream. Father Laval kept his eye intently fixed upon the forest ; but he found it difficult to pene- trate the darkness which shrouded it. The canoes had now reached a point where the underwood was not so thick as that above, and where there was but little danger of an ambush. Ahasistari again emitted a low exclamation, and pointed towards an open part of the forest. The eye of Father La- val followed the direction, and up the stream, in the rear of the heavy under- wood, he caught a momentary glimpse of the dying embers of a fire. The thick trunk of a tree in the next instant con- cealed it from his sight. There was no sign of life or motion nea& it or around it. He again assumed his place at the bottom i • OR THE MISSIONARY. 53 of the canoe from which he had raised himself to look around. The eye of the chief was now turned upon the portion of the forest immediately before them^ and he held a consultation in low tones with the old warrior by his side. ^ ^^^ ' " Haukimah^ the trail is there/^ he said, pointing to a spot which seemed to the Je- suit, who again raised his head as the chief spoke, to present no marks by which to distinguish it from the banks above or below it. ■.■^.- •■;...,.-•. -^i -^^ > -V* 4- " Yes, the Mohawk has left it broad— a yengeese might follow in it : the Mo- hawk is cunning !'' ^r- > :^?r^ -^a? '^ He is a wolf, but he leaves his trail like a bear.'' " i ,- -^^m^.:,fmk The old Indian shook his head doubt- ingly, and, after a moment's pause, re- plied ?^->^ '•SKK.' ,(f..f . ¥ j-f.,- A,; ■'i:i*0'l--^'mf: ^ i€ The Iroquois can hide his trail if he will — he is strong} he has left a broad trail*" i¥ . *fiw^' m:i'4m^i - fm mrnm^^rnvf^w^ww : I • 54 PERE JEAN^ I " No, he would have concealed it then." ^5fe»** Yes, if making an ambush ; but he is strong and fears not pursuit ; his fire is burning out ; he has gone ;'' and Hauki- mah pointed towards the south. . It did not seem impossible that the party of Mohawks had passed on by that route during the night, leaving their fire behind them unextinguished, and their trail so broad as to negative the idea of an ambush at that spot ; yet the chief determined to reconnoitre more closely before he ven- tured to pass onwards in front of the sus- picious spot, and thus expose his party to the certainty of discovery and pursuit. The light had already become more dis- tinct, and the marks about which the war- riors difiered became at last visible to Father Laval himself, though, had not his attention been directed to the spot, he could not have discovered their existence. The low bushes on the edge of the water were displaced and beaten down, though OR TH£ MISSIONARY. 55 9f fl portions seemed as if carefully replaced, while the underwood above on the higher portion of the bank, which extended up- wards a few feet from the surface of the water, presented on their lower branches bent and broken boughs and torn leaves, as if done by the grasp of persons care- lessly ascending. The canoes still con- tinued to near the shore, and were kept by the occasional stroke of the paddle from descending farther down the current. They were now within a very short dis- tance of the bank, but it was impossible to discover there the least evidence of life or motion, and the two Frenchmen began to comfort themselves with the reflection that the Indians had departed, and that nothing wastobeapprehended. TheHurons, how- ever, were still silent and watchful, caa- tiouoly concealing as much of their bodies as they could in their canoes. The chief again turned, and spoke in a low tone to Haukimah. ?*^j* #«v«i'?^;^fi»^':^#^^ > '•i ' a ■f^A 4iUilluM£lKllMU>'^'U('^ .:^ 'ix. r"^^ 56 PEtlE JEAN, €€ How many does my brother count upon the sand ?" and he pointed to the bank at the edge of the water. : t ^ The old warrior held up three fingers. " Yes, there were but three canoes of them/* said Ahasistari ; " there is nothing to fear.'* ■'■"■ ^"^' "''-^.'^ ^.^ -'■ '■ ' ■ '■'< x -'tf'.;', >.t. >iif^ Father Laval looked in wonder for the indications from which the warriors had drawn their conclusion, out in vain. To the Indian they were plain enough. It seemed that the Mohawks, if Mohawks they were, had proceeded with an utter disregard of the usual precautions which Indians, especially in an enemy's coun- try, adopted to conceal their path. On the sand the prints of moccasined feet were stamped deeply, but were scarcely perceptible in the dim light, and in three places, close together, the indentures made by the bow of a canoe, carelessly dragged from the water, were indistinctly seen. Whilst the two jshiefs more closely f z- lit or C< in OR THfi MISSIONARY, 67 amined the shore to discoTer if any de- ception were practised upon them^ th« canoe in which the novice was placed shot up towards them^ and the young Indian Watook, uttering a hiss like that of the water snake,-^so like that Father Laval involuntarily started with disgust at th^ seeming proximity of the imaginary rep- tile, — exclaimed, " The Mohawk ! " ^ Every eye followed the direction of his extended hand, and at the moment a dusky^ form was seen darting rapidly from one- tree to another, lower down and nearer the canoes. An instant after a wild yell broke from the forest ; the flash of rifles lit up its dark shades and gleamed upon the waters ; a cloud of arrows rattled down ^ upon them, and half stifled groans arose from the canoes. Every shot came from •above, none as yet from the forest in front* or below the canoes. ?Jone was returned. ^ Covered with dense smoke, and concealed in their coverts, the unseen foe would haves 5 58 PERK JEAN, suffered little from the fire of the canoes had they returned it. The moment that the yell broke out. Father Laval felt the light boat spring suddenly in the water^ impelled by the powerful arms of the HuronS; who sternly and silently bent to their paddles, hoping to reach a cover, and make successful defence. The discovery, the war-cry, and the rattling volley fol- lowed each other almost instantaneously; but the impulse to the light barks had been 80 quick and strong that, ere the volley pealed, they had cleared half the space towards the shore. It was a fortunate movement ; the rapidity of their progress had rendered the aim of their ambushed foes uncertain^ with the clumsy and un- sure weapons with which the Dutch >f New York scantily furnished them in their trade. But the speed of the canoe began to relax, broken paddles floated in the wa<- ter, and the Indians who had borne them crouched low, grasping their arms, and iSi .xCii^f.'i OR THE MISSIONARY. 59 watching intently for some object^ head^ leg, or arm^ to aim at. The Jesuit felt the water slowly rising around his feet — the canoe was riddled, and was filling fast. Little better was the fate of the rest. It seemed as if the foe had aimed principally at the canoes, as if to prevent escape, and, had all their shots taken effect, they must have sunk at once. f , v It was a moment of intense anxiety — death from the ambush, death from the wave, was before them and around. It was doubtful whether they could reach the shore. In the midst of danger there was one thought more painful to the Je- suit than the thought of death. There were those around him who bad not yet been baptized, and with agony he reflected that each pealing shot, each hissing shaft, might send one of these unfortunate child-^ ren of the forest, unwashed from the dark stain of sin, to the preseQceof his God. Th9 shots that every instant whistled around A 60 PERK JKAN, ■J, ' t him had no terrors for him: the deep responsibility of human souls was upon him* ' • -■ ■• ,,----• f^- '■ '■ " • •••. - • . The old warrior Haukimah sat motion* less before him. His head was rested on his hand^ his rifle lay across his knee — he looked steadily in the face of the priest, and marked with deep concern the pain which shot adioss his features. The huntr ing shirt of the warrior was dripping with Iblood^ yet no sign of pain escaped him, but p, wistful glance lingered upon his face as he fixed his eyes upon the countenance of ^he Jesuit. ^ ■ ^*^ * > ■■ M,.v^^T*if' ^^You are wounded?" said Father Liavalf r - '<- ''The Indian slowly and somewhat painfully bowed his head. m'^^^^^ ''And seriously— it is near your heart !*' continued the priest, ?*' * " Haukimah's last fight is fought,'^ re- plied the Indian patiently : " he will go to the spirit land." fei ^M. OR THK MlStlONARY. 61 ' ** And^ alas ! you have not yet been bap- tized.*' '' I have sought it — I wait!'* '^Yes^ it has been delayed that you might be further instructed: you have been instructed — it can be delayed no A faint smile of joy passed over the stern features of the wounded man, and their look of fixed deter iiiiation relaxed into a softer expression. « ^ * ** It is good/' he said quietly. J "Do you repent for all your offences against the good Spirit?" *' I have ever loved him ; if I have of- fended, I am sor-y^" he said faintly. * There was no space for further ques-* tioning, and the good priest arose, his large form presenting a fair mark to the foe; heedless of danger, he stooped and filled his hand with water from the river, and, pouring it upon the upraised forehead of the warrior, pronounced the holy and ■M 63 PERE JEAN/ mystic words of the sacrament. Tbe eye of the dying Indian again lit up — a joyous smile passed once more across his features ; his lips, motionless before, opened, and faint indistinct words of prayer escaped them. Then a gushing sound was heard ; his hand moved wanderingly towards the wound — the blood was bursting from it in a dark and bubbling stream. His head sank upon his breast, and the spirit of the "regenerated" had taken its flight. ^* May he rest in peace,'' mentally ejac- ulated Father Jean Laval as he cast his eye once more upon the scene around. It had now become terrific. The fragile bark was sinking beneath them ; escape by the river was impossible: escape by the shore seemed already doubtful. The brave Hurons, taken at disadvantage, were unable to display their accustomed valor. At a signal from the chief, two warriors sprang from the canoe, and thus lightened and buoyed up the sinking bark, at the v:p ,1^ Wj. If ,_ -■■_/^ - ', , V ,_.v^;; U..;. v« 1 ^■^ Wirt],! >;^^ ,r, 'TiT^ rTrv'7«'Trr-;-irr7 -^'j^s-r.^^i!^'^ OR THE MISSIOlfARY. ■^4 same moment, almost, a few strokes sent it within fording of the land. Every man^ made for the shore, grasping his rifle in his left hand, while his right brandished his tomahawk. Ahasistari bounded to the beach. Bidding Father Jean Laval to follow him, it was but a moment's work to reach a cover in the woods. He was seconded by a number of his braves, and ere the last canoe had touched the Ishore, the sharp crack of the Huron carabines^ was heard on \he flank of the IroquoisJ As suddenly the firing ceased. The Iro-^ quois, surprised by the unexpected activity of the Huron movement, clung close to their coverts, and for a time a fearful and unbroken silence hung upon the scene of death. Upon the shore, by the side of a dying Indian, knelt Father Jean Laval. The cross of Christ was in his hands, and the eyes of the departing rested on it. Words of holy comfort flowed from his lips ; the 64 PERE J£.%N. solemn absolution was pronounced^ and, anointed and annealed, the spirit of the Chridtian warrior took its flight, in the midst of the stern silence that momentarily reigned around that scene of strife, to re- gions where neither battle nor death can come. As the last convulsive throb of dying agony ceased, and the muscular limbs of the warrior fell back motionless from the death struggle, the priest arose from his posture by the side of the lifeless body. *' Have mercy on him. Oh Lord I '' he said in a low, sad voice, and turned away towards the forest ? tp? ^^^t i> f n "^'m^ '\i^ ;«; -^mt v^'rny n-.' ..■'w.*7viii'_**-' ^■^"♦%-.»*'r's* P^ W'-i « ■§- ym:- ~\^ ^?-^%, -^^mmM '\iW p§1^m-: n The Cmflict. "■M I'i .VtvS:«^ [ILENCE and darkness on the scene! Not a movement in the forest — ^not a ray of lights save the dim grey of the far-off sky — ^no sound but the half hushed moan of pain, jarring sadly with the soft music of flowing waters. It was a living solitude. No voices were heard where there were many ready to break forth in fury; and where there were many glowing with the flame of human passion, no forms were seen but one. That form enclosed a gentle spirit. "The Jesuit strode towards the forest. * Gloom was upon his path, but an in- vincible tranquillity reigned within his 'W^m 66 ^£RE JEAK, bret^st. Oyer the stillness^ more startling by it? sudden contrast with the wild peal of battle which had ceased so suddenly, came now and then the rustling of leaves, as the ambushed foes fell guardedly back, assuming new positions, and manoeu- vring with the cautiousness of Indian war- fare. It was at the mingling of night and morning, and the fading stars looked sadly down their parting, as it were, into the soul of the dark river.' >- ; > The priest pressed on, heedless or un- conscious of the danger that lurked within the forest. He gained the opening of a slight ravine — as he stepped forward an obstacle caught his foot, and he fell to the earth. Putting out his hand to raise him- self, it rested upon a cap — ^he held it up to examine it — it was the cap of Rene the novice. A shudder passed through his frame — there was a murmur of sorrow and prayer, a sinking of the heart — but he still passed on, A few feet further lay a rvf'"''^ ■ -T^^TTT fl^^lW" T^iTT^'' T"!^7T?^"?*^ '■.\- OR THE MISSIONARY. 67 ,■; ■• :} wounded Huron. A low sigh escaped the lips of the warrior^ and he endearored « to turn himself upon the ground^ but in vain. The Jesuit bent over the Indian, and, in a low whisper, asked him : "Son, hast thou been baptized?'^ -^^i^^* "No, my father !'* he said in a faint and weak voice. The place they occupied at the bottom of the ravine was somewhat covered from the position of the Iroquois. There was yet time for Father Laval to seek cover, in the rear of his Hurons, and perhaps escape would have been possible; for; the Iroquois were now busily occupied in slowly and cautiously extending their forces in order to outflank, and thus dri\*» the Christian warriors from their covers. So guarded had been the movements of both parties, and such the gloom, that, as yet, neither Huron nor Iroquois had gained an opportunity of firing with any certainty of aim, and both were too wary to throw M / / 68 .T;^ PllliS JEAKj p. away a shot, and, at the same time, dis- cover their whole maiiceuvre lo th i foe by the flash of their fire-arms. - .- • 1^ Father La^/al arose and crept lightly to- wards the river. Ap he pa'^seJ by a little hillock or mound, he was ^ tartled by the cracking of a twig and a low hiss like that ora serpent. Hesitating a moment, he recollected the sound he had heard in the canoe, and, reassured, fixed his eye upon the spot until he distinguished a dark ob- ject moving towards him, and slowly erecting its head from the ground as it ap- proached. In a moment more Ahasistari was at his feet, and in a low voice ad- dressed him: '-:. ■■M^P>-<^',:.:^^^^i t:.;a V.,, :.V..,:., . *' Father, hasten; there is yet time to fly! Follow me!"^-.,,,^^^., ,^^,^,,,,, , . . • *' I can not," said the Jesuit ; " there are souls to be saved — the dying to be baptized! Fly you, and save your i^^ySo* . Ahasistari will not fly without OR THB MISSIOKARY. 69 fki: . fi ' ... -■ "^ . his father/' said the Indian^ drawing him- self up proudly from the ground. ii^^^ ''Go, chief; you have your duties, I have mine ; the brave man does his duty, and leaves the rest to God. Go you to yours — Cleave me to mine." ^i '' You will not follow me ?" "I dare not,'* and the Jesuit pointed back to the spot where he had left the wounded Indian. The chieftain turned his eye towards it. ^i r^^ --ii-ws*** . " It is not far from the end of their line ! You will do your duty. Ahasistari will do his by your side . Hist !" hesaid, suddenly interrupting himself, and raising his finger to demand silence. Father Laval listened intently, and discovered the light trampling of moccasined feet; then the low cry of an owl struck upon his ear, and again all was silent. *^ #* - /fThey are gathering for a charge,'' said the chieftain. '' Ahasistari must be there to meet them. When you hear the 70 ; ( PERE JEAN, ':* war cry of the Hurons, know that your children are fighting to save you. Has- ten along down the shore and seek a hiding place.'' The chief stretched himself upon the ground, and was soon lost in the ob- scurity which still pervaded the scene. With a rapid step the Jesuit turned to- wards the river, lifting up his heart to God, as he went along, for assistance in this trial. To fill his cap with water, and retrace his steps to the side of the wounded Indian, was but the work of a moment. The eyes of the warrior fastened upon the cooling liquid that oozed from the cap; and with a supplicating look, he laid his finger upon his parched and feverish lip, and uttered the single word "water." The Jesuit raised his head upon his arm, and applied the cooling draught to the sufferer's mouth. A grateful expression passed across his countenance, and Father Jean laid his head once more upon the turf; and, having uttered a prayer, stretched OR TU£ MISSIONARY. 71 forth his hand^ about to pour upon his head the regenerating waters of baptism. At that moment a heavy grasp was laid upon his bared head, which was drawn backwards till his uplifted gaze rested upon the fierce countenance of an Iro- quois, whose right hand brandished above him a scalping knife already dripping with blood. A fiendish smile played upon the features of the savage as he paused to con- template his work. There was time \-^A moment! oh, inestimable moment! worlds could not purchase thy value. There was time. The baptismal water laved gently the brow of the dying, and the words of the sacrament arose — '^ O, Godt I thank thee — ^" exclaimed tjie Jesuit; and the knife of the savage began to de- scend« A single shot pealed suddenly upon the silence. Ahasistari, the fearless chief of the Hu- ron8,had crept back swiftly to the position of his warriors, and prepared to meet 72 PEKE JEAN. n the expected onslaught of the Mohawks. With the quick and ready skill of the In- dian^ he determined to entrap the foe when the assault should begin^ and had already placed himself^ with a few chosen men, stealthily in advance, in a nearer and more favorable position, when his eye, wander- ing uneasily in search of the Jesuit, rested upon the spot where he had left him. Dimly it caught the form of the priest, bent back by the strong grasp of the sav< age, and the uplifted knife suspended. He sprang forward. To fire was to disclose his stratagem to the foe; to desist would be death to the priest. He sternly swung his carabine into rest — his sinewy hands grasped it as firmly as if the muscles had been steel. Thus it rested for a moment, motionless; then came the clicking of the trigger and a cloud of smoke, with a she 8 74 PIRE JEAN, him up gentl/f he said^ when he saw him recovered from the effects of the incident : '^ Father^ go now! Far down the bank of the river you will find the undergrowth thick and heavy— keep by the edge of the water. We are outnumbered; our only hopcTis in flight. The Hurons will re- main while you remain. When you have fled^ we also w^l seek safety.'' « "Then I must go!" said the Jesuit^ and gtfthering up around him the long bt0ek gown which he wore^ he prepared to fly from the spot. ^* ^ Ahasistari stooped down and grasped the scalp lock of his foe^ and was about 'to pass his knife around the skiato tear it from his head. His hand was arrested by the priest — '^''- " -■■••^''"^ ■.n^:''^^^^Mi^-:^'h "Do not violate the dead, my son!'' " He is a Mohawk, my father!" - " He is a man — you have killed him in batde-^o not mutilate his body. It is not Christian." p Sm* MftM* OR THK MISSIONARY. 75 The warrior raised himself from the body of his foe, and reverently made the sign of the cross upon his forehead : then, pointing the way to the Jesuit, bounded back to his first position amid a shower of balls and arrows that whistled around him as he emerged from the ravine. Looking back, he caught a glimpse of the form of the Jesuit hurrying down the path he had designated. In the next moment the Hu- ron chief was in the thickest of the con- flict. ., '•^.5. ' •.•:■. '•« ' Gathering new spirit from the presence of their leader, the Christian warriors still made good their position against the foe ; but it^as evident that the struggle could not be long protracted. Yet each mo- ment gained served to increase the distance between the Iroquois and their father of the black gown. At length the thinned numbers of his warriors gave notice to the chief that retreat could not longer be de- layed. At the signal, the Hurons qprang 76 P£R£ J£AN5 back from tree to tree, securing cover as they retired, and, battling thus each foot of ground, they made the advance of the Mohawks slow and cautious. Ahasistari approached a well tried war- rior and whispered a command in his ear --the I»dian hurried to the rear and turned towards the river. A moment after, a little below the landing, along the shore where the rippling waves broke in a line of light upon the sands, a dark form seemed to rest for a moment prostrate upon the grass, then with a quiet motion foiled -slowly down the slope to the river's bank, and, witho» a single splash, disap- peared beneath the water's edge^ An upturned canoe was floating by the spot : imperceptibly its motion appeared to quicken, and when it had gained some distance from the shore, it was suddenly righted and an Indian carefully crept over the side. A yell broke from the forest proving that he was discovered, and a few iHiiii ■'r^-:u: '-^ TT-tv OR THE MISSIONARY. 77 shots whistled around him : but seizing a paddle^ which had been fastened in the canoe^ he whirled it in defiance at the foe^ and then urged his bark down the river. At length time enough had elapsed for Father Laval to gather a sufficient start, and Ahasistari and his Hurons betook themselves to flight, having selected the spot opposite their last bivouac as the final place of rendezvous for those who might escape. The main band shaped their course somewhat from the river, while Ahasistari, accompanied by a single warrior, hastened to the spot to which he had directed the Jesuit to proceed. ^-nM Father Laval had turned awav from the scene of strife, and was hurrying down the shore, when he heard the groan of a wounded Indian whose strength had failed him as he crept towards the river bank. He paused. How could he fly ? How leave behind him so many souls to whom his ministry was necessary ? He turned -3' • 78 PERE JEAN, from his path, he knelt by the side of the Huron, and he left him not till the shout of the pursuers, driving deeper into the forest, became faint upon his ear. At length he arose, and heedless of the words of the chief, retraced his steps to the now silent scene of battle. Many a time he knelt and shrived the dying Christian war- rior, or baptized the departing neophyte, and uttered words of hope to the wild savage. Kindly and gently, and with almost a woman's touch, he laved the parched lips and throbbing brow of the wounded and soothed their pains. Ab- sorbed in this work of holy love, he heard not the approaching steps of a form that soon gained his side. > , *^0h, my father, I came to seek thy body — and, joy, I find thee safe!" ^* Ah! Rene, my son! heaven bless thee," said the Jesuit as he gazed afiectionately upon the youth. " I believed thee dead MMMMM OR THE MISSJOKARY. 79 — see^ I found thy cap upon the field. I mourned for thee^ my son." , '* Yes, I lost it in my rapid flight. The young Indian Watook hurried me to the . shore, and led me to the rear. There, in safety, I watched the progress of the fight^, until it became necessary for me to fly deeper into the woods. Making a detour as the foe went off in pursuit, I came hither to seek thee." " It is well : we will die together, com- forting each other." ^ '* If it be the will of Providence, my father." And thr> Jesuit and the novice betook themselves to their office of love. A young Iroquois warrior, wounded severely, but not fatally, had fainted from loss of blood. He now began to revive } and an involuntary groan broke from his lips. Rene Bourdoise raised his head from the ground, whilst the Jesuit endeay- ored to staunch the wound. The effu- sion had been greai, and if it continued 80 PERE JEAN, longer would prove fatal. No mean sur- geon was Father Jean, and he worked with a charitable heart. Whilst the two Frenchmen were thus engaged, the loud shouts of the returning Mohawks broke upon their ears. The savages had ob- served the escape of the Huron in the canoe, and, fearing that succor might be near, dared not protract the pursuit too Jong. Redoubled yells of joy came forth as they caught a glimpse of the two most highly prized of their foes, whose escape they had feared. Bounding forward, two warriors were about to grapple with them 5 they came with uplifted arms, but the Jesuits, unmoved, continued to perform their charitable labors. Father Jean had just succeeded in staunching the flow of blood, and was smoothing down the band- age that compressed the wound ^ Rene Bourdoise laved the brow of the Iro- quois.^ The two warriors stood still, astonished. *fli*^><'-«.j*5(M;,*K'i OR THE MISSIONARY. 81 and then^ uttering the deep, low guttural exclamation peculiar to their race, their only expression of surprise, dropped their arms, and, turning, gazed on one another in unmingled wonder. They were soon joined by their companions, who gathered near by this scene so new to them, and the same low exclamation ran around the group. In sooth it was an unwonted contrast: man the fiend, and man the angel — the warrior, red with blood, smok- ing with slaughter, and the priest, cairn and passionless, breathing peace and char- ity to all men, binding up the wounds of his enemy. Father Jean arose, with his arms crossed upon his breast, his benign features glowing with a holy enthusiasm. The priest and the savage stood face to face. The dark flashing orb of the war- rior slowly yielded to the softening in- fluence of the mild and gentle eye of the Jesuit; suddenly he turned away his glance, and approached the wounded man. 82 P£RE JEANj he laid his hand upon his brow^ as if to discover that there was no deception. Then he coldly watched the face of the sufferer. The novice still supported bis head, and laved his brow and lips. In a moment more the wounded man opened his eyes and a faint smile played across his features. ^ *^Good, Kiskepila!^^ muttered the Mo- hawk chief, and turned away. Father Jean had now time to look about him, for he was left unmolested. The Mohawks had made several prisoners in tie pursuit, whom, six in number, some of the conquerors had just dragged up, bound tightly and securely. In an hour more the last straggling pursuer had re- turned, the dying Hurons had been scalped and tomanawked, the bodies of the fallen Iroquois buried, and the conquerors and their prisoners, marching in single file and with a party in advance, bearing their wounded upon litters made of boughs. OR THE MISSIONARY. 63 left the banks of the St. Lawrence where they had concealed their canoes^ and struck off deep into the forest, towards the Mo- hawk villages. Mo- 4^- %i ■ »-4 '*,/! " --M The Mom. «♦ HE sun came up over the eastern hills, brightly and beautifully, not a cloud across his path. His first slanting beams fell upon the form of a tall warrior, stealing his way down the banks of the St. Lawrence; a short distance behind came another, cautiously covering, and concealing every footstep as he passed, while to the south, deep in the forest, might be heard the sounds of conflict and pursuit. Rapidly they hurried on, yet carefully, until at length the underwood became thick and heavy, and difficult to penetrate, and the ground soft and swampy. FERE JEAN. 85 i Then, emerging from the wood, they kept along by the edge of the water, searching closely for the marks of footsteps upon the sand or clay. The examination was in vain. For a moment the tall warrior looked about in doubt; then, renewing the scrutiny, proceeded down the river. But he met with no better success. An unusual expression of pain passed across his features, and, resting the butt of his gun upon the ground, he leaned upon it in thought. His dress was torn and bloody, and the marks of many wounds were upon him. The sun played brightly across the face of Ahasistari, but his spirit was dark and sad. He had found no trace of Father Laval. His solemn vow was in his memory. - ; At length twice he whistled, low, but piercingly ; at the second time a rustling was heard a short distance down the bank where the bushes overhung the water, and lifting carefully aside the leafy branches. f m. ' s 86 PERE JEAN, a Huron appeared^ urging his canoe from his hiding place. A few strokes sent the light bark to the feet of Ahasistari, and the rower stood beside him. The three Indians spoke together for a moment^ and then sat down silently upon the shore. A slight noise startled them, and Ahasis- tari exclaimed^ " He comes V^ In a mo- ment more a step was heard upon the sand, and Watook, soiled and stained with the marks of battle^ stood before them. He looked Ahasistari in the face, and then his head sank down upon his breast in silence. The chief addressed him : %*** Speak, Huron !^' -^ - Raising his hand towards the south, while his eyes glowed like burning coals, the young brave exclaimed : " The Hawk carries off the dove ; the Mohawks lead away the father of the black gown and the young Frenchman to their villages^ to the torture: and Watook*^ and his •trained arms pressed tightly against his OR THE MISSIOffAKir. 87 bosom^ as if to keep down its inward struggle — " Watook looked upon it." Ahasistari sat motionless for a moment, then looked fixedly at the young Indian, his eye seemi j pierce into the depths of his soul. ': luscle moved ; not a nerve quivereu ; but there was a sorrow- ful sternness in his glance. Then he gazed around upon the group of Hu- rons: " How many Iroquois ? The days are many before the villages can be reached — and night and day — " and he grasped his knife expressively. A deep exclamation of approval broke from his two compan- ions. Watook replied not, but pointed to the sands of the shore, and then to the leaves of the forest. *^ It is useless,'^ said the chief, and sank again into silence. At length, raising himself up to his full height, he said : '^I have sworn, my brothers ! you are bound by no vow. Go! the waters are open IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1^1^ |2j5 2.0 HI HI u 14.0 ri i^iii4iy4 ^ 6" -► HiolDgraiiiic Sciences CorpQralion 23 WKT MAIN STRfeT WIBSTn,N.Y. USSO (716)17!/ IS03 ^ s> V c> 88 PEHB J&AN9 to duebec. Ahasistari will join his fa- ther of the black gown^ and share his fnfp '' :.:'A"'ni ■^> 'Ji^H ,- f',H-T The Hurons drew back from the shore to the side of their chiefs and stood im- movable. A gleam of hope broke upon the mind of the leader^ and^ pointing to Watook^hesaid: "Go! sweep down the river to the place of gathering ; bring up the warriors who may have escaped, and lead them upon our trail ; we will rescue our people, or perish with them." Watook's heart beat high. He could bring rescue to the very villages of the Mohawks, and save the novice and the priest. He stepped lightly into the canoe, and, with a few strokes, sent it far into the current. Then waving his hand to the three Hurons who stood silently gazing after him, he steered his course directly down the river. i,i»,^^^^^^ v»' : " Watook hath a bold young heart ; he wiU lead the braves of the Hurons when OR THS MJSSIOKART. 89 the arm of Ahasistari is cold/' said the chief; and the three devoted warriors turned away upon the trail of the enemy. • • • • The Iroquois marched silently on through the pathless forest, striking di- rectly for their villages^ guided only by that wonderful instinct which enables an Indian to toil on^ day and nighty over bill and valley, through forest, and thicket, and swamp, as unerringly as if directed by the compass. The prisoners were placed in the centre of the line, and so guarded that escape was impossible. The two Frenchmen, like the Hurons, were bound tightly with thongs of deer skin, but, in the midst of their sufferings, they enjoyed the happy privilege of being together. ■.ji.-^-;;.../.-.^ i.r:^- The hour of noon had come ; the heat was oppressive even in the shaded forest, and the thick black dresses of the Jesuit and the novice increased the sufferings of } ,< ^ 90 PERE JEAN^ their painful march. At length the party- paused to refresh themselves. " Rene^ my son/^ sqtid Father Laval, " let us oflfer up the last part of the rosary. It is the five dolors. Th^ recollections it contains will console us in our sufferings. In our misfortunes we must pray to God to assist us with his heavenly consolations^ and to enaUe us to endure them with pa- tience. Let us offer them up as an atone- ment through the blood of Christ for our pastofiences." '^ .-^The novice acquiesced in silence, and the priest began the prayers. For a mo- ment their captors did not heed tb onver- sation of the prisoners. Fathei Laval proceeded, and Rene Bouidoise said the responses. Hitherto the captive Hurons had maintained a stern and dogged silence, permitting no sign of pain to escape them, and enduring, passively and with native stoicism, all the insults of the Mohawks. But the sound of the first *^ Ave Maria,'^ in '■ OR THE MISSIONARY. 91 the party er Laval, le rosary, lections it ufierings. ly to God isolations^ with pa- an atone- st for our ence^ and ?or a mo- onver- ei Laval said the e Hurons id silence^ ape them^ th native ilohawks. laria,'^ in the clear voice of the Jesuit, came like sweet music to their sullen hearts, soften- ing their savage humor, and soothing them into love and prayer. Gently its holy influ- ence spread among the group of sufferers, and their stern features became first sad, then calm and placid, until the light of re- ligious aspiration beamed from many a scarred face turned mildly up to heaven. The response came low and broken from the lips of the young novice, swelling up, like a sweeping wave, as one by one the deep musical tones of the captive Hurons joined it. ^\Ave Maria /'^ it came like the though^of a loving mother, like the mem- ory of a holy love, ndve Maria ! swelling up, in the wild forest, from captive hearts, from parched and feverish lips, calmed by its gentle murmurs, to the mother of the sorrowful, the mourning. Ave ! like dew to the withering flower, was the sweet prayer to the stricken soul, and tears came down the swarthy cheeks of the Christian warriors. \ -I 92 i I PER£ JEAN. Amazed^ the Mohawks looked upon the scene; then they laughed aloud contempt- uously at the faint-hearted braves who wept — wept in captivity. " Dogs ! women !^^ they said, *' are the Hurons no warriors ? Shall we go back to their tribes to carry off a brave to tor- ture? Ye are women! our squaws will beat you with whips ! Ye are not worthy of a warrior's death. '^ But the Christian Hurons prayed on — Sancta Maria! — their full, deep voices piercing up to heaven, heedless of the :8corn and taunts and blows of their cap- ers. At length a Mohawk approached the Jesuit " Does the word of the medicine turn the Huron warriors to women ? He is a magician — ^lethim he silent," and he struck him a blow in the face with his clenched hand. The blood gushed from the lips of the priest, and he bowed his head in silence. • . . • • •■f--i ' ■ ..."-.:.; •,■:' ■ -vrv**-''*>. » OR THfi MISSIONARY. 93 In the forest from a thicket three figures^ crouching low, glared fiercely out upon the scene ; over the dark features of the chief of these flashed the fire of anger ; his nos- trils were dilated, his lips parted, his hand grasped his carabine convulsively. Then, as the priest bowed meekly to the blow, the warrior released his weapon and pressed his hands upon his brow as if to shut out the scene; a low sigh escaped him, and he too knelt and prayed. But for the meek bearing of the priest, recalling the duty of the Christian to the heart of the chief, there surely had l^en death among the conquerors in that instant. Ahasistari knelt and prayed. The time for action had not yet come : it was not vengeance but deliverance that he sought. The Jesuit bowed meekly to the blow ; then raising his eyes up to heaven, whi]^ his arms were drawn back by the tight thong around his wrists, he prayed on in silence. In silence prayed the captives-* 94 P£R£ JEAN, but the still incense of their hearts floated upwards not less sweetly to the throne of God. It was the dedication of the forests of the Iroquois to the faith of Christ. V The Mohawks soon made their repast, and snatched a few moments of repose. The wretched remains of their dinner were thrown to the captives, whose hunger was left unsatisfied, while, from the tightness of their bands, they were unable to enjoy the momentary rest afforded by the halt. The line of march was soon formed again, and the Mohawks, refreshed by their re- pose, hurried on the tired captives at a rapid pace, urging the weary and the lagging with heavy blows. Many hours passed thus. ^ Rene Bourdoise was faint and weary, and his faltering step betokened that with- out rest his strength would soon give out. In that case a certain death awaited him ; for the captors would not pause or delay ^ OR THfi MISSIONARY. 95 when a blow of the tomahawk could, in a moment, relieve them of their trouble. ^%J A Mohawk warrior, perceiving hii weariness, approached him, and, bran- dishing his weapon over his head, pointed forward to the route they were pursuing, and intimated, by a significant gesture, his fate in case he should be unable to keep up with the party. Thus incited, the young novice exerted himself anew, and, ever and anon, his tormentor, as his efforts seemed to fiag^ assumed a threatening posture, or struck him with a heavy stick which he had picked up on the march, or pricked him forward with the point of his knife. The folds of his black robe were stiff with blood, yet the fainting novice toiled on patiently, turning up his eyes to heaven, and murmuring a gentle prayer for his tor- mentors. Father Laval, stronger and more accustomed to fatigue, looked in helpless agony upon the suffering of his young companion ; he cheered him onward with ;&.', '■ ■ 96 PCR£ J£AN^ worda of hope^ and then^ as the cruelty of the savage increased^ he consoled him with thoughts of holy comfort. ** Bear up, my son. Thou art the sol- dier of Jesus. Thou art scourged — ht was scourged. It is a glorious privilege to die in his service ; heaven is the reward of the happy martyr.^' ? *^Pray for me, father, pray for me. Oh Gtod !'' continued the youthful novice, looking sadly up to heaven, ** Oh God ! grant me strength to endure this trial ; grant me fortitude I" ' ^ The road became more difficult and the progress more painful. A powerful Hu- ron marched near the delicate young Frenchman ; no word had yet escaped his lips. At length he approached the suffer- er, and, pressing his huge shoulder against him, said : ^.f-M* -'s, >*^V;«i(f':?'-''^ ^ ^' Lean on me, my brotlier !** ' ' At the same moment Kiohba, the re- lentless Mohawk, again pricked the bleed- f OR THE MISSIONARY. S7 ing noTice with his knife. The youth started forward^ and, with a deep groan, fell to the gr9und. There he lay unable to rise. The Irdquois grasped his tomahawk with a savage exclamation, and raised it over his head to strike the exhausted cap- tive. It was a moment of agony. The tall Huron sprang forward ; with a mighty effort he burst the cords that bound his wrists, and rushed between the Iroquois and his victim. On his left arm he caught the descending blow, which gashed deep into his brawny muscles ; with his right he lifted up the light form of the novice, and, folding it to his powerful chest, while the pale face of the insensible youth rested gently on his dark red shoulder, strode sternly forward to the front of the group of captives. Deep exclamations of satis- faction escaped the Iroquois ; but no one attempted to interrupt the warrior, for the Indian loves a bold deed. »v.i k iy^* , vii^^^^jK " He is brave," said one j " he is worthy of the stake." m P£R£ JfiAN^ " Yes, he is a warrior ; he shall die by r»r ♦> fc. . .)!♦■ I I'i ( . '1'« r ^ • the torture!'^ The Huron strode on with his helpless burden, as tenderly and gently guarding it as a father does the child he loves. " *- <* *' Le Loup will bear his young white brother,'' he exclaimed. * >. : . . - ^ i Tears flowed down the cheeks of the Jesuit, and he raised his heart to heaven in thankfulness for the providential rescue of his companion. At the same instant the cry of a hawk was heard in the forest, repeated thrice clearly and shrilly, then seeming to die away in the distance — a gleam of joy broke out on the bronzed face of the Hu- ron, and with a firmer and lighter step Le Loup pressed onward. He knew by the signal that his chief was upon their trail, and that three of his tribe were near. The Iroquois listened suspiciously to the sound, but it was repeated no more. .^ I The sun was sinking low in the west. ■'■^-"- OR TH£ MISSIONARY. 99 The shades of the hills grew out length- ening. On the bosom of the river the red light fell in streams^ sparkling from the summits of the little waves. Far down its waters^ many a weary mile, a war canoe, urged on by a single Indian, made its way. Large drops of sweat stood upon the rower's brow. A moment he paused and gazed upon the setting sun, then, shaking Lift clenched hand towards the far south-west, bent sternly to his oar once more. • At length he turned the bow of his canoe towards the shore 3 he reached it, and bounded on the beach. Then draw- ing his bark upon the sand, he stepped into the forest with his tomahawk in his hand , *«s tf dT h^^^ u 1q* *^dihln^ : t*h8 • Irees some distance fr9mnhelv£(tef,:9(i8;£i^d>' ing Qb'mtfrki^ t|n*tl^fem, natchedtSev^ira^ in^ a pecu^i^P t^siii^f • *Ki^*1\e:we^t fc^it&f'T in, a figure stepped fronii'beliind 'a latg'd oak which had hitherto concealed him^ 100 P£RE JEAIC, and, approaching the cauoe, inspected it carefully 5 and afterwards bent over the footsteps of the young Indian. The per- son was dressed in a hunting shirt gathered close around his waist by a leathern belt, which also served to support a long curved knife and a small steel axe. A large pow- der horn and a ball pouch of deer skin were slung over his shoulder; his feet and legs were protected by moccasins and leggins of untanned skin, and his equip- ments were completed by a small black hair cap set jauntily on his head. He seemed satisfied with the result of his ex- amination, and said half aloud as he arose : *^ Huron canoe — Huron moccasin — no Mohawk thief — and now Pierre for Mons. '•f * .*L • f .-.» : Pierre \i^ em^rajted fj^kti l^ra/iee many years beforie, wA with, the 'aid T>f 'his son hafl'iiiade> hims^JP insoful- as* ^^ burner to th^ smaller outposts of the French. He supplied them with game. In one of their ex thf kil He OR TH£ MISSIONARY. 101 excursions the Mohawks came upon them^ and after a long chase succeeded in killing and scalping the young man* Henceforth Pierre considered the Mo- hawks as his deadliest enemies. He had served as a spy under the great Cham- plain — a man dreaded by the Indians of every tribe^ and whose name had become a war-cry to the French. Pierre was an expert woodsman^ and an indefatigable Indian fighter — well known and loved by the Hurons^ who gave him the soubriquet of ^' UEspkn hardV^ The Frenchman laughed as he entered the forest to meet the Indian. ^' Ho^ ho, Huron," he shouted as he strode care- lessly along. Watook heard the voice, and springing to a trce^ cast his rifle into rest I but the dress and ]a<3guage of the speaker told him it was a friend, and he came leaping towards him. ''Ugh! L'Espion hardil The pale face is the friend of the Huron," he said* *' Very true, savage, very true." 102 PERfi JEAN^ " Has the Frenchman found any Hu- rons here?" and he waved his hand around. " None but yourself, Huron." Then Watook told him of the sad mis- fortune which had befallen his party, and of the capture of the two Frenchmen, and how he had come thither to gather the scattered Hurons and attempt a rescue. Exclamations of anger escaped the hunter as he listened to the story, and his manner became more grave. " The scalp of the son of the Daring Scout hangs in the Mohawk lodge. Is his knife rusty ? Will he strike the trail of the Iroquois?" said the Indian in conclusion. Pierre drew the weapon from his belt and ran his finger across its glittering blade — and his feeling deepened into fury as he remembered the sad day in which his son had perished. .. * " Huron," he said at length in a stern voice, "Huron! * Daring Scout' will OR THE lISSIONARY. 103 Strike the Mohawk in his village ;'' then, recovering his wonted equanimity, con- tinued: i^^^ " The braves probably went deep into the forest before they struck off towards the rendezvous — they will be here yet— for the current of the river assisted you forward ahead of them; it is rapid now. Let us build a fire, and pass the night here. No Mohawks are outlying now; for the party you fell in with must have been a strong one, and it is not likely that there is another out. When the Hurons come in, we can strike off* through the^ forest to the trail of your chief.'' The counsel seemed wise to the Indian, and they prepared to bivouac upon the spot. About midnight the sound of a footstep struck upon the ear of the French- man, who kept watch, sitting at the foot of a tree shaded from the light of the fire. "dui va la," said the hunter, who still adhered somewhat to his old military '- '._. l^^ufl : 104 P£R£ J£AIC. habits : '^ dui va la;'' but the figure ap- proached, and the next moment a If uron stalked up to the fire. Watook awoke, and greeted his comrade. ^ ?w. *^ The Hurons are scattered, andwill come in slowly, for they are very weary," said the stranger. He made no other allusion to their late defeat, -i. v When morning dawned four or fire warriors had collected, and the impatient Watook proposed to set out. -, .,,,m %, ^' No,'' said the Huron, who had first come in, '^more braves come — more braves.",^^ ,.^ :y...^.>.^.. • ''They are already two days' march before us," said Watook; but Pierre coin- cided with the first. By the hour of noon about fifteen warriors had assembled, some of them wounded, and all wearied. Compelled by stern necessity, that night they passed at the place of rendezvous, ind Old the following morn set out, through the forest, to strike on the trail of the Iroquois. . • . . "^ r VIC • r "'^i"-^ ■ '.-"■■..-rf';.',::.i,v'^ Y- OR THE MISSIONARY. il05 Night and morn came and went, night and morn the captors and their captives toiled on through the pathless forest. Still on — on went the weary march ; still on the rear of the conquering Mohawks hovered three dusky forms — sterna silent, watchful Vi-*';: i ^*.-,f». •.■^*r^ .«..., -^ ^ >'.-m'«'-» •■J^'■«■■•v:-»<•^^H*^t^•. in : £Iv »TmMm^mM.r:^)M m^u \j}^m.im^/i Jmi> tip^» mi4^i H'm^U^i^^^.-'-: -■■■■■ ^'''': '^-n^'hrn 'm^m-.^ '.M'wm..hm '' ' ■> <^ -v ' -^^'"^^ i^ i$ ^0 TAe jRe{t/m» lORNING Flower, why art thou s^d'l the young eagle of his tribe Will soon return. Kiskiepila will bring back the scalps of Huron warriors at his l^irdle : he will come back adorned with ^agle feathers, and the women of his tribe will sing his deeds. He will bring home many spoils, and will take the budding Flower of morn to bloom in his own bdge!" ^ - «r 4 No, Dancing Fawn, the warriors of [ibe have been gone many days on ,path. Many suns have set since ^alfiNOtiilied hour of return passed by^ ft i ^ > *g -ma -m ' P£R£ JEAN. . W f . .■ , J. f h(es Ihoices 6^ ike higtit Kftte wfiispcnreil in the eat of Morning Flower. Misfor- tune is on the path of the braves. He will return no more.'* t^Jvt*- fe** Drooping Flower," said the other^ drawing up haughtily, '' is not the blood of the conquering Iroquois in thy veins t and yet thou tremblest because the brate^ of the tribe outlie upon the war path a fe# suns longer than the appointed tinbf^ Thinkest thou that the Huron dogs cddid withstand the invincible Mohawk t The Hurons are cowards ; they have forsaketi Owadeeyo for the God of the pale face> and Owaneeyo has chilled their heitrt^^ and turned their blood to wat^h ^htl Hitrons are dog^ ! '^ and the speaker tossed her hand contemptuously towards the Burofk country. -i^^ -^-^' * ¥-^-^ j * -' *^^' ' ' - - ^' ^ She was a noble looking lindiati girl^ Her bl^ck eye sparkled as she spoke the faeighttetied color oPher ch imf. The two Indian maidens reclined upon the soft turf at the edge of the forest above the village^ and for a few moments gazed down in sifence upon the valley. The thipk foliage of a massive oak overhung tbem» and shaded them from the warm rays of the sun. '^ '^wm<^ *< Dancing Fawn/' at length resumed the young girl, '^ the French warriors are terrible in battle^ riding fierce horses, and with their breasts clad in steel ; perchance the bravt^s have fallen in with them and been cut off." /'False Mohawk girl^ have not the bmves of our nation met the French in bi^ttle? Their war cry is like the roar of Ungbi^a'^-^the Huron and the pale fuc^s OR THi MISAi^lfARY, lU tremble at its sound. But listen^ Moraing Flower! heard you that faint shout! See! it has aroused the village !" The young maidens arose from their recumbent position^ and awaited in ex- pectation the event. The village below them now exhibited a different and more lively aspect. The youths had quitted their pastime and gathered *around the council lodge where the old men of the tribe had assembled. The women had left their occupations, and were clamor*- ously joining the group. At length another yell broke from the forest far to the west, and came faintly swelling to the expectant crowd. , In a few moments more a runnier emerged from the forest, and, loping down the hill, hurried oa towards the village. As he approached^ the assemblage opened to receive him, and he paused in silence before the chief, who was surrounded by a group 0|f vene- rable warriors. Kiodego motioned hiid to speak. 112 .T PERE JEAK/ JtO "The braves of the Mohawks/' said the runner, ^* are mighty warriors ; their arms are strong, and the Hurons aredogs^ The French become women before the battle-axes of the Mohawks. Thfe war- riora bring back scalps and many prison- ers ; they have captured the great medi- cine of the French ; they have routed and slain many Hurons/' Then be recounted the names of the wounded — for of the dead the Indian speaks not. As he men- tioned the name of Kiskepila, the son of the old chief, a deep sigh broke from the lips of the Morning Flower, and her head sank for a moment upon her breast. Then' she raised it up proudly, and fierce deter- mination lit up her beautiful features. Gloom had passed away. Klodego s^t unmoved, evincing no concern for the misfortune of his son. As the runner fin^ ished his recital, a shout broke from the^ assemblage which was answered from the forest by a succesf^ion of yells, whose^^. OR THE MI88I01CARY. 113 increasing tone marked the near approach of the conquerors ; it was the scalp whoop. Then came another succession of yells, one for each prisoner. At this signal the crowd v.tjm.^ the councillodge dispersed to tho d'fferent wigwams^ but soon rea»- yecibled, every one armed with weapons of some kind ; Icnives^ tomahawks^ stones, and war clubs. As soon as the runner appeared. Morning Flower and her com- panion had descended and mingled with the group before the lodge, and now, armed like the other women of the tribe, they hurried off towards the edge of the forest. It would have been difficult to recognise the sorrowing, lone, lorn Indian maiden with the drooping glance in the exdited form that wound amid the group, urging on her sister furies to greater frenzy. ,-*' The Qentle Flower," she said to Dan- cing Fawn, '* is a Mohawk maiden ; a thorn has pierced through her liioccasiii and wounded her foot. She iritt pluck it 114 ►-♦iJhI- »'■ ■-• I. T.V iT- «-T-< . -f •»«■» I i 3 C' outj and with it tear the fieah of the I^renohi^ao. The Morning Flower will avenge the wound of Kiskepila I'' #{* «,i!rhe inhabitants of the village had ar- ranged themselves in two lines on the open apace south of the little rivulet^ for by that side the war party, having made a detour in the forest^ were to enter on the valley. Thus the lines ran from the south west up towards the village. Old women with staves, young gentle maidens with heavy clubs, youths with knives and tom- ahawks, and even the little naked chil- dren with, sharp stones, stood waiting, with savage exultation, for the coming of the prisoners. The triumphant songs of the returning warriors became every moment more dis- tinct; at length, far down the shaded avenues of the forest, the front of the body appeared in view. A cry of wild joy bralce f{pm the i expectant savages, and the two Unes waved and undulated along OR TpilllS^^CIJIARr. m their whole leDgth, as each person endea- vored to catch a glimpse of the triumphant braves. On they came! — the warrior stepping n^ore firmly ^ and erecting his head more proudly^ as he beheld the old men of his village at the council lodge, in th^ disri tance^ and, nearer, the women and the children who would sing his gallant deeds^ and the youths who would learn tp mm late his fame. On they came, swinging hj^ the scalps they had taken, the blqtody trophies of their victory, and chanting the story of their actions. At length they emerged from the forest, and stood in the bright sun upon the beautiful green slope of verdure. The prisoners were grouped together; their captors now singled them out, preparing them to start upon the fear- ful trial which awaited them. Father Laval was pale and jaded; his face was scarred and luruis^d, and the clotted bipod still disfigured his wounded features ; his hands were yet bound behind him. A Mmi!pip|pL,lJ.IWIllllli PSRfi J£AN^ m^ -tV..M- 116 MdhawK approMcliiea to a^.^* .«s. ^w.«, the flesh had so swollen around the tight band as almost to conceal it, and the ktiife of the savage gashed the hands of the priest. Released from their confinement, his^' strilhs fell heavily to his side, inani- mate, and refusing to obey the stiff and swollen muscles. The blood began to creep slowly in the veins, and the sensa- tion of numbness was succeeded by one of aculi pain. The Indian then loosed the band which confined the black robe of the Jesuit . around his body. His outer gar- ment was next taken ofi*, and Father Laval stood half unrobed ; his shirt was stained with blood, and his naked feet and legs were torn and bleeding, and festering with thorns and briers 3 every step left its mrrk in blood. ' ^*":. ' ;;i?;-i#M-* , ,:-. ..: The work of the inaian was ibon abne^ and the captives were prepared to run the gauntlet. The tender frame of the young novice^ with the' red blood incrusted upon OR THf: MISSIONARY. 11? his delicate skio^ and his limbs bruised and swollen, and almost helpless, contrast- ed strangely with the massive propoi^tk)ns of Le Loup, who still kept close beside him, ready to aid hi^l in his need., Strong, and seemingly unwearied^ the Huron stood up like a mighty statue of bronze, heedless of the many wounds upon his limbs and breast " My father !" he said to the Je- suit, as they neared each other for a mo- ment, '^ my father, when Le Loup springs forward between the lines^ hasten on,^ an^ seek to avoid the blows of the Iroquois ! Make for the war-post by the council lodger-gain it, and you are safe !'^ Ren6 Bourdoise turned towards, the spot indicated by Le Loup to the Jesuit, and his heart shrank within him. A hundred yelling furies, with clubs and knives, were between them and the place of refuge, and his limbs were faint and weary. He raised typ soul 'to God. '^"^^t'it TrT^-m''^*^'\: -nrtrnm ^mf^ #:f^ Fear not, brother/' said Le TiOup, '' but gather up all thy strength." tl8 ^'^^'h^kt.SKJLi^^ .^^ "I will trust in God/* replied the novice At length the word was given : ** Jog- go !"-^'^ go !^^— ^and the prisoners stki^ted. The powerful Huron broke away at a swinging trot^ which puzzled Father La^ val to equal. Le Loup made for the open- ing of the lines: a hundred arms were uplifted to strike — ^knives glistened;, ahd th'e whole gang of furies yelled with a sav-^ vtge delight^^the strong runner paused for It moment till the Jesuit was close behind hiin^ then bounding forward^ he dashed fiercely into the midst of the crowd, cast- ing aside their blows and overturning man/iti his path. Yet he did not pass scatheless, and^ ere he had gone half the distance, the blood was streaming from l^is wounded body. The whole rage of the whippers was in a moment turned «fpon him, for he had succeeded in bal^ fling many of them, and they #01^ pi^ vwSb^ him r^B^dteflis df tike tiefeft, Md per* ■ ' tin nn Ty'i nd *' i'S-i' ■ ' OR THE MISSIONARY. lid mitting the two Frenchmen to es(;Ape with little suffering. But there was one whose passion was not to be led off. Morning Flower scorned to wteak her vengeance upon the Huron^ for she con* ceived that none but the Frenchman could have stricken down the Young Eaglel Her eye was turned upon the lesuit^ whom she saw passing almost unharmed in the rear of the powerful warrior. At length Father Laval came near her^ has- tening forward at as great speed as his swollen and stiffened limbs would permil. She held a heavv stick in her hand-^het arm was raised'^the Jesuit cast an impldr- ing look upon her^ but the heart of the girl was steeled to pity ; her savage nature was unyielding^ and she struck hitn h heavy blow. He staggered forward^ about to fall ; at the next moment he was iuised and hurried forward by the aim of one of his Huron neophytes. Bliilded wbd sttinned by the shower i>f Mows mUck m m,VMtllS.ifMi^r m-^ fell upoa him, he did not recover complete consciousness until he stood safe from farther harm at the war-post. A wild spectacle met his eye as he gazed over the field through which he had just passed. The tall Huron, Le Loup, heedless of Uows and wounds, was still struggling through the savage throng, carrying the main body of the whippers after him and around him. Ever as he turned and doubled, a portion of his tormentors would start before him to cut off his escape ; then, like the bunted wolf, he would burst upon them with all his strength, and break through them-^^nly to find another body ready to receive him. A group of old squaws, armed hke fiends with the worst weapons they could obtain, pointed and jigged stones, sharpened sticks and knives, attempted to stop his course. He dashed into the midst of them, striking the first to the earth before she could aim a blow; yelling horribly as she fell, she clasped the OR THE MISSIONARY. 121 warrior's feet^ and tripped him up. With his outstretched arms he grasped several of his persecutors^ and they came to the ground together : his pursuers^ close at his heels, i'ell over them, and the living pile struggled together in inextricable coQr fusion, striking and beating each other in* diseriminately . A shout of laughter broke from the Mohawk warriors, who watched the scene with interest. Winding out from the living mass that was piled ^^ above him, the Huron sprang again to Ips feet and started off, delivered from more than half his pursuers, who still lay struggling together — the upper ones be- lieving that their victim was still in their power, while the efforts made by those UE* derneath to arise made the confusion still more dire. The Huron was speeding on. Half way to the post tottered on the poor novice, Rene Bourdoise, his young limbs stiff and fainting. Ah ! little did he think, when he quitted the shores of beau** 122 .K. PEBE JEAK^ Sii^ tiful and gentle France, of the wild scenes df suffering and torture be was to endure Ibr the sake of Christ in the dreary wil- demeiHi of the west. The companions of bis early days were wandering through the bright valleys of his native land ; songs of joy were upon their lips, glad music ringing in their ears, loving hearts and teiicler haads around them. In his ear rang the yell of the wild Mohawk, and 4ie hand of the pitiless savage was upon mkif Then he called to mind his solemn tb^ation, and devoting himself to suffer- ing, clasped his hands towards heaven, and struggled on, ^ — >^^* ^*' ** Grant me strength to bear my cross, O God !" he said, %^ ^*/ «^**i « The novice had already reached the stream ; he had received little else but pass- ing blows, for the strong Hurons afforded tetter game to these human hunters. The younger and the weaker, who feared to grapple with the stout warriors, alone pur^ < i OR THE MISSIONARY. 123 senes idure r Wil- ms of rough songs musio IB ancl lis ear k^ and •i upon (olemn suffer- eaven, sued hitff. But now a party rushed to- wards him, and in an instant the fainting youth sank beneath their blows. It was at the moment that Le Loup approached the creek. His eye rested upon the novice as he fell among his tormentors, and he dashed through their midst, drawing them after him in the race. Rene Bourdoise arose— the Indians were already in ail*- other portion of the field, and he passed the stream, and, painfully toiling up die hill, touched the war-post. At length the chase began to flag, and Le Loup, having succeeded in doubling on his pursuers,, loped up the hill to the goal. The last Huron soon came in. The overthrown squaws, bruised and beaten, gathered round the group of cap^ tives, and with loud imprecations menaced the cause of their misfortunes with the vengeance of the tribe. •* Ah !" said one, " wait, when the Hu- ron is bound to the post and the flames 124 ►TiJv PERE JEAN. ^^^ are kindled around him, we will torture the dog till he screams with pain/^ ** Yes, the Mohawk women will make the Huron warrior yell with the torment,'* and the fiends shouted in anticipation of the sacrifice. Le Loup looked calmly on and smiled. The prisoners were again bound, and, the ceremonies attendant upon the return of the war party having been gone through, were placed under a guard in the council lodge, while the warriors dispersed hrough the Tillage, each with his band of friends and admirers. A portion of the war party belonged to another village; these were entertained with dances and feasting until towards evening, when they took their departure for their own homes, contrary to their usual custom, leaving the prison- er;? at the first village, to be disposed of by a joint council at some futute di^y. ^^ ; ■ i; I f ■ , Baptism in bondage, HE forest to ihe north of the vil- lage was filled with undergrowth, and was wild and rocky, rising at times into hills of considerable size, which swept gradually down until they melted in the gentle as<^.ent upon which the Mohawk village stood. Towards the close of the day, which had been signalized by the re- turn of the war party, a solitary Indian cautiously made his way through the thick bushes, replacing every leaf and branch in its position, and covering each footstep as he passed. His course was turned in the direction of the wild^tof the hilis. 4^ tie proceeded, the gfound be^ 126 PER£ JEAN, came more broken and rocky until a huge ledge rose abruptly in the forest, jutting almost over the summits of the oaks. At the foot of the cliff he paused for, a mo- menty and surveyed the face and summit of the rock. He seemed satisfied, and moved along the base of the ledge unt.il he reached a part that was less precipi- tous, and wa3 covered with bushes and creepers growing out of the many crevices and spots of earth upon its sides. Here he paused for a moment, and, having made a low signal, which was answered from above, began to ascend. A little distance from the summit^the rock receded until it opened into sometning like a cave^ which was completely hidden from below by the bushes and wild vines in bloom, which here clustered thick upon the side of the ascent. At the further end ef the recess sat two figures, silent and motionless \ their rifles* *Tfai8 term has been used throughout this story; perhaps musA^et would have been more correct, though at the date of the story few Indians w^re OR TH£ MISSIONARY^ 127 were lying near them. The Indian en^ tered and took his seat by his company* ions ; at length he spoke^ pointing with his hand over his shoulder towards the village. f«^^a«#7 fi!fij*es'¥t '^ The Hurons and the blackgown are in the council lodge. No more gauntlet; the warriors from the other villages have gone,'' he said, and held up the fingeni of both hands twice to indicate their number. '^ So many braves at the village/' and hf again held up his fingers till they indicatad forty; ''must wait." The Hurons as-" se^ed» and Ahasistari continued : '' The bikckgown is weak and bruised ; many days mu it pass before he can travel again to the river. The Hurons must wait till they can go faster than the Mohawk, or they will gather from the tribes and follow on the traili^ ^i:i-t£l,J -m xi^'- ■A- f;^-;SJi. ?«^.iSJ' At length one of the Hurons spoke: !.r.i.f 'it> possef sed of Ate*iutm it All. Hie Mofaawkt ob* tained then at an earlier period, having been aap plied by the Dutch traders^ ,fjrri 128 «^' .HH PERE JEXIX, ^fWatook may collect the braves, and be here in another sun." .m'^wm&i -mm' mr^^^ *lii^'Cluickfoot/* said Ahasistari^ "it is better that he should lie out with the war- riors some distance in the forest. There 19 a little stream, a day's journey from the village of the Mohawks ; we crossed it on the traih Let him hide upon its banks. If he come nearer, a wandering Mohawk might strike upoir his trail, and then all hope will be lost. We can not attempt a rescue ontil the blackgowns are strong enough to journey with us. Watoak and his braves wilt follow the trail of the Mo- hawks ; Cluickfoot must retrace it, and meet hinu He will bid him to remain tmtil Ahasistari commands again. 'V^a "Good,'' said the Huron, and, takiL^g up his rifle, wearied as he was, with the elastic tread of the brave, departed. The 9thers sat still. ^t ^ > Ahasistari and his two followers had horared around the trail of the Mohawks^ '•■^J"'. 'yJt-y^'''^'"'' ■ r- OR THE MISSIONARY. .129 but as the foe was very numerous— about fifty warriors in all'^had not obtained a single opportunity of attempting the res- cue of the prisoners by artifice ; of course force was out of the question. It now be- came necessary for the chief to delay his operations for the reasons which be gave his followers^ and also in the hope that the number of the warriors at the village might be reduced by some new expedition, and thus afford a favorable opportunity of making an assault, with whatever braves Watook might bring up,to whom he could at any time transmit his orders by his re- maining companion. In the meantime, too, some chance of a successful strata- gem might present itself, and he deter- mined to watch the village closely to se- cure if possible the escape of his friends. When the Mohawks had approached the end of their journey, the Hurons for- sook their trail, and struck ofi* through the forest to the hills, among which they were ■»'t, 130 PERE JEAN^ now concealed^ having perceived them on their path from the summit of a distant elevation. The track-of a fox had led them up the ledge of rocks to the cave^ and, at the same time, gave them the assurance that it was altogether unfrequented by their foes. Leaving his companions, Ahasistari then crept stealthily towards the village, and reached it in time to be a witness from a neighboring thicket of all the scenes which followed upon the ar- rival of the war party, and learned from a single glance the condition of the cap- tives. His plans were formed, and he re- turned to the rocks to carry them out. With twenty good braves he would not have hesitated to attack the village, know- ing the vast advantage which darkness and surprise give to even a few assailants over a larger number, mingled with wo- men and children, and unprepared for battle* The village, too, was not de- fended by any stockade or fortification^ for OR THE MISSIONARY. 131 such was the terror of the Mohawk name that few of their enemies dared tq set foot upon their territory^. But Ahasistari deemed it more prudent to postpone the attempt Judging from the departure of the braves of the neighboring village without carrying with them a portion of the pris- oners, that for the present they were in no danger of public execution. Such, however, he knew to be the passionate cruelty of the Iroquois that any one of them might be sacrificed at a moment. This danger could not be avoided. The night that followed was a festive one in the village of the Mohawks. Long continued were the rejoicings of the peo^ pie over the valor of the braves, and it was determined in council to despatch runners to Fort Orange with a portion of the booty, which had been large, to procure •* fires- water" from the traders for a solemn festival over the victory. In the midst of [all this joy, many sleepless hours had 132 fHi PERE JEAN, passed over the heads of the two French- men. Sore, bruised, suffering intense pain, unable to lie at ease, slumber long delayed to shroud their weariness in ob- livion. At length it came. The Hurons, after the prayers of the night had been said, soon yielded to sleep, accustomed as Ihey were to catch repose in any attitude. Day broke gaily over the village, and the rays of the bright sun stole in through the chinks of the council lodge, and rested in golden streaks upon the hard trodden earthen floor. As the luminary rose higher in the sky, a beam, playing througti 1 a narrow crevice, crept slowly over lhe| pale face of the young novice. His lips were drawn apart, a fixed expression of| pain dw?lt upon his features, and his heavy and disturbed breathing denoted the I fever that raged in his veins. He slept on; the joyous ray playing upon his sad! features, myriads of motes holding their gay revels in its beams. Near him slum- ';,a'^'--v_ ^ 185 sofierings were ail forgotten; and,. seated in heart at the foot of the Saviour's cross^ their own sorrows dwindled into nothing-^ ness in the contemplation of his infinite passion. Then the stern spirit of the- Hurons melted^ and the enduring warrior became the contrite penitent. , .yi^^pil^ . ,:^t^*The anger of the Iroquois is *nri- sparing^ my father. Death may be ourii. at any moment." said Leloup, ai ini consoling prayer was ended. . ^ i ^ '* True, my son ; let us p.epare to meet it ;" and the Indian, moving nearer to the priest, began his confession. It was done ; and the Jesuit pronounced the words of absolution in virtue of that power com* mitted by Christ to his church, ^' Whose sins ye shall forgive, they are forgiven." *'Go in peace!" said the priest, and another and another came. Often befcnri had these Christian eavageS; in their un-* sophisticated nature, mafle public confesi^ sion of their faults, iseeking to humblfi 186 ISM PERB JEAK^ »^< rt themselves before heaven and eaith^ and thus to show the sincerity of their repent- ance^ and to do penance by mortifying their pride and self-love ; now, therefore, they did not heed the presence of their brethren* Two there were who were yet unbaptized, two neophytes longing for the redeeming waters of the purifying sacrament. In turn they knelt and con- fessed themselves, and besought baptism. Alas! the good priest, bound hand and foot, without a drop of water^ was unable to administer the sacred ritei^i* ^ .ii ^i; I The pious occupation of the prisoners was at length interrupted by the entrance of a warrior, who was soon followed by another. It was not long before a num- ber had gathered in the lodge. One of the Mohawks, at length, approached the Jesuit, and loosed the cords that bound him; then'he released the young noVice. Father Laval sat still for some mo- ments, endeavoring to overcome the stiff* OR THE MISSIOKART. isr Hess of his limbs. Wbllst te temained JQ tbis position an Indian entered the' iod^^ bearing in his hand an ear of corn upon the-stock, which he had just plucked;^ he threw it to the Jesait. The sunlight played upon it as it lay-^^nd see! upon its silken beard and broad Made clung little drops of dew *-^ sparkhng and glis- tening, like jewels in the light! Ahf ht^ more precious at that moment than all the diamonds of Golconda f There waa enough to baptize the two captive Hu«* rons. Taking it up carefully^ he arose, zeal and joy overcorming pain and weak- ness, and knelt above the prostrate nee- phytes. .■'■e,^*t^.j(«j~t-'>j.- ■I'fSJM:^ t^'jifi ^-j^^..' Y,ii,vp.->»s*|k' ,:?•>' * *S O nry children, the hand of the erver mereifufl is- with its. Kneel-^kneeH^' and* in the wild forest lodge^ made holy as God's temple by the prayers ami suffer- * 1%i0 iBcideiit is ralated of FliAe#lHite Jmiei while a captive among the Mohawks, bj Ban- croft, almost iir the Words used above. See Ban- crqft, Toh Mi, p, 133. 10 '^.f^pvk^'^i 138 vf4. PEBS JEAN, iif) itigs of his faithful children, with the Christian Huron and wild Mohawk look- ing on, without sponsor, with no lights but God's own sunlight, with no incense but the ineifably sweet incense of humble prayer, before the altar of the heart, the priest admitted the rejoicing neophytes into the fold of Christ, into the household of faith, sprinkling the pure dew of heaven upon their uplifted brows. Wondrously solemn was that simple baptism in the wilderness, in the midst of trials and suf- ferings, ia the face of death. No swelling organ arose over the sacrament; no swinging bell pealed out ; no white robe upon the neophyte, but the stainless one of purity of heart ; no vestment on the priest but the martyr's, stained with blood, m- wmwi • - -li m^mmi mf^'^at-i^ *'Come sorrow; come death," ex- claimed thQ, Jesmjit ; ^' I will heed them not, O God! for oft end." ».-• T,,] ercy there is no % *7 Oil TH£ MISSIONARY. 139 Scarcely had he fiQished before an In- dian summoned him to follow him. Father Laval left the lodge. A group of boys were gathered before the door^ and watched the priest with interest as he passed through them^ but did not molest him. His conductor, crossing the open space around the Jodge, turned his steps towards a tent at the end of the village near the forest. This rude dwelling of the savage wa;^ constructed of poles sunk in the ground^ in a circle^ with their tops* bent to a concpion point and fastened together. Over this frame was stretched a canopy of biMfalo skins, stitched to- gether with tIPead made of the tendons of t]|e deer. It was large and eommodi- ou^and betokened the weahh and stand- ing of its owner. In front the two ends> of the covering hung apart, leaving a space for entrangg, whi^h was usually closed up by a ^^le buffalo robe sus- pended from a*cross pi^e above. This 140 r /;j PBRE JEAN, m WBBs of course, raised to admit light aDd air. The tent was of far better order than the lodges around it, which were rude huts covered with bark. The Indian motioned Father Laval to enter. Lying on a couch of skins, the Jesuit beheld the young chief whose wounds he had bound up on the field of battle. An old man sat near him ; it was the father of Kiskepila, Hnd the chief of the village. The priest approached the couch of the wounded man to feel his pulse, but the old man waved him away with ^joaotion of his hand.- -^-rf^rx ^^i^,.^.. ''Pale face!'' he saidl'in the Huron tongue^ '' you are the f(% of the Mo- hawks^ and yet you sought tp heai^i^he wounds of Kiskepila.!'..^,, ^. ^ ll " I am the foe of no people,'' replied the Jesuit meekly ; '' my mission is to save, not to destroy-" "Thou art the/ri«JfeLthe Huron ?" said the old man^nterrogativcly . OR THE MISSIONARY . V ' 141 " Dost thou see the sun ?" said the priest. '' The God who created it made it to shiue alike upon the Huron and the Mohawk. Its beams ripen the corn in the country of the Iroquois, and in the lands beyond the great lakes. Will the Mohawk vpil his eye^: td the sunlight because its rays «hine upon the Huron too?"^ The Indian was silent, and the Jesuit continued :*^^'» »? *>*rr -m- *' The Great Spirit loves all Jiis chil- dren, the Mohfewk and the Huron ; will the wise and brtve Mohawk shut his ears to the words of the Great Spirit because the^uron hai already heard them?" "Pale facef the Mohawk listens to the voii of Owaftieeyo ; he hears it in the forest, and ia the waters,; and in the winds!" ' ■ titeiit# :'.^ . ' V The Great Spirit has taught us, sa- chem, to love tb||^.\f l|o bate us — to love all men— to l^t.^P^'fi^rts shine on all like the s\kii$)m^i^n P * V: Tcvrf- -m 142 jf .i>r PURE JEAN, 3|t^ • V ■ • ♦ « Vk H)f /Tugfe/" exclaimed the Mohawk, "does the pale face speak with a forked tongue? The Iroquois strikes his enemy, and it is good!^^ and he laid his hand upon his heart. . n-,.v....^r-^:,j. -^ .. „:.....-.....,..:,. ...;*. ^ Father Laval paused for a moment ere %e answered this appeal to the natural pas- Hjons of man as an argument against the tl^th of the Christian doctrine, and then, pointing to the wounded man, said : " Kiskepila sought > the life of the pale face — >r ;;?*■ "And the pale face saved the life of Kiskepila," interrupted Ihe young brave in a tone of deep feeling. " The words of the blackgown are trifc. The wolf kills the deer, the bear the buffaloMhe hawk the dove, and the^ Mohawk nis wounded foe. Jt Is only the pale face — the blackgQwd — that J)inds up the wounds of his enemy. -His Heuct is gentle as the summer breeze PK ^^ itt^ ft tt -*» ;' Silence ensuecT, for the Inl^n scarcely knew how to recede Ind^jestimate the ^:>^.i-(^)~-'-'^ OR THE MI8SI0KART. % 148 wonderful magDanimity of Christianity. Nature taught him to do good for good ; to return good for evil was a new thought to him^ yet it awoke a slumbering chord of the heart ; he began to feel the sublim ity of the precept^ and was silent. At this point of the conversation a squaw entered the lodge, bes^ring several ears of young corn, and a quantity of beans which had been roasted at a fire without^ and placed them on a mat upon the floor. "Eat!'' said the chief. Father Laval approached, and making the sign of the cross, blessed the simple provisions which had been oSbred to him, and then pro- ceeded to satisfy his famished appetite. Hi^erto he had been furnished with barely enough food to support his strength, for it was a common mode of torture among the Indians to ciake their prison- ers pass days aj^^nights together with barely enough ^R to sustain life, and yet inflict an incredible amount of sufier- »'/r;_.> ■'/Ai'iS-' 144 leH^FBRS JEAH, ^f iDg. Yet he nte moderately. A gourd of water was placed beside him — he had not slaked ^his thirst for many^hours — f: WHS grateful to his burning lips. Having returned thanks to God, he arose and approached the couch. The chief again apoke : ^' The pale face made a sign upon his forehead '^^^ '*^^**^^^'^ ..'■'•'''^^'^''■^ '"^■'^-'^ i>-*vti*»: j i* 44^ It was the sign of the cross,'' replied the Jesuit. ^« ?j is" m:mmif w^'^-:^. k^mi^ ■i^'::>ui;w The chief nodded his head afHrtnatively. '* I thank the Great Spirit for his gifts." Then the Jesuit began to examine the wounds of Kiskepila, and to bind them anew^all the while explaining the mean- ing of the holy symbol which he had used; how God had sent his Son on earth after the sin of our first parents, and how his chosen people had scourged and put him to death upon the eross, and how, ever since thej^^s followers had used that sign to reo^Ro their minds the recollection of UfTagoQy and death. Oft THE MI6SI0NARY. 146 f^Ugh ! Dogs!" exclaimed Kiskepila, as he shook his clenched .fist. The old chief list^ed with a look of incredulity. While the priest was speaking a figure glided softly in at the opening of the tent^ and crouched silently in an obscure corner with the females of the family. Morning Flower listened : she could understand but little, for he spoke in the Huron dia- lect. In r iishment, she gazed upon him as he tenderly bound up the wounds of her lorer. The passion of the pre- vious evening had subsided^ and she re- membered with a sorrowing heart that she had tortured him in the gauntlet. Hers was a gentle spirit in spite of its wild education. She arose, approached the priest^ and looked him in the face; at the same moment the young warrior^ pointing ta the Jesuit, said : r%^ «^i^^- " Morning Flower, the blackrobe saved the life of Kiskepila.when the Young Ea^ gle had slain his people— the Hurons.'' 146 /Hi PERE JEAN, |0 , tiThen the heart of the woman was true, and, in s >e of early habits and barbarous training, eat there as nature idkde it. A gush of remorse fillea her soul, and with a low wild cry she broke away from the tent. The two Mohawks looked at each other in astonishment, unable to compre- hend the cause of so singular an exhibi- tion of feeling ; and the elder exclaimed in a low tone, "Hugh! Medicine!" and shook his head^ attributing the actioii of i:he girl to some species of enchantment on the part of the priest. But Father La- val well understood it : he recognised the maiden who had so relentlessly pursued him whilst running the gauntlet: yet he continued the conversation, without heed- ing the circumstance farther, i^?*^ ;?^ ^ **^^ i,^. At length the Jesuit returned to the council lodge, where he busied himself in ministering i0 the wounded Hurons. Rene Bourdoise, released from the tight bonds which had been so painful, began ■■*.' OR TH£ MISSIONARY. 147 to recover a little from the weaknest^ that had rendered him so helpless. With a tottering ^p he descended to the streamr^ and washed the blood from his face and hands^ and laved his swollen feet. The cool water refreshed and strengthened him, calming the fever of his veins. He found a gourd upon the bank^ and^ filling it, bore it to the famished prisoners at the lodge. The Jesuit assisted the novice, unheeded by the Mohawks, who listlessly reclined on the grass, occasionally cast- ing a glance upon the prisoners, to see that no attempt was made to loosen their bonds. '.■ ■t>-'ii''*f^^' &>^^^•^ ?■*■?, -T^*' -i-**^''"^/ fji*" 'i'!^' Towards evening the Jesuit again en- tered, the tent of Kiodego. Kiskepila was resting in a half recumbent position, sup- ported by a pile of furs that a king might have envied. Many days had passed since his wounds had been received, for the march was long and tedious, and he was now recruiting his trengtb. Father t ^ 148 %. J»£RE JEAN^ >« LaiTal again felt his puis?, for he feared lest the fatigue of a long journey, upon a fQUgh litter niight bring un a fever which would pro\ fatal ; but a skilful prepara- tion of draughts from herbs and roots had prevented it: the stroke was still calm and regular. Then he entered into con- versation with the young brave, using as much as possible the Mohawk tongue, earnestly seeking to become familiar with it for *' the greater glory of God.'^ In the tedious and painful route he had caught a knowledge of it from his captors, and its affinity with the Huron tongue, which he spoke with ease and fluency, enabled him to make rapid progress. The young warrior listened to him patiently, but as soon as he paused addressed him: ^^ >ii¥!;r? '^ Blackgown, you have taught me that the pale face loves all, and forgives those who have injured him. Morning Flow- er," — and the young maiden, springing up from a group of females in the farther -■,--■• vT,-r'|--T^ 'j;:-"".- '\. ^.'-'W-ji^.'-"; " OR TH£ MISSIONARY. 149 part of the tent, approached and stood be* side the priest, — "Morning Flower, wbean the blood of Kiskepilc was Sowing from his veins, and Kis heart was growing cold, the hand of the pale face stopped its flow./ Blaekgown, Morning Flower is the dcs-l tined bride.of Kiskepila.^' i^^ immmm^d' The priest placed hi3 hands upon the head of the young girl, and then, raising them up to heaven^ uttered a prayer for the wild but gentle spirit before him. ** O God, grant that the light of thy faith may pierce .the heart of this untutored girl, and of all here. Mary, mother of the sorrow- ful, bring these wanderers to the faith of thy Son by the powerful intercession of thy prayers. And he added, in the Mo-t hawk tongue, " Daughter^ peace be with"^ thee."..-.- ...,.„.. ,:.:'r-^mh-t.. ^.. irftei^'i^it Then Father Laval began to discourse again upon the subject of his morning's conversation, speaking in the Mbhawk dialect as well as he could. Kiskepila 150 PER£ JEAN, Hi i listened attentively^ and the maiden^ seat- ed at her lover^s feet, gathered every word that fell from the lips of the priest. 4 -^ When the Jesuit had "departed, the young warrior conversed with Morning Flower upon the discourse which they had heard^ explaining such portions as had been uttered in the Huron dialect, and wonderingover that which was mysterious and difficult, for it is hard to express ab- stract ideas in the Indian language. The kindness and attention of the missionary had won the heart of the young Iroquois, and, finding that he acted out in his own life what he taught to others, under the im- pulse of a grateful feeling, he lent a will- ing ear to his words. Kiskepila had a clear head, and the very fact that the Je- suit faced so many dangers, and endured so much toil and suffering, to preach the doctrines of his religion, satisfied him at once of the uprightness and sincerity of his motives. The skill and knowledge of \ ■ •V OR THE msaiaifABY. 161 the Frenchman proved to him that he was no ordinary man, and he inclined to be> lieve even the wonderful tidings he nvh nounced. Yet doubts met him at every point as he thought over the strange things he had been told. When, therefore, the Jesuit entered the tent on the following day, he questioned him : mm^mmmw "Blackgown, you tell me that the Sa- viour died and was buried, and that on the third day he arose again from the dead. I have never seen the dead arise — how can I believe it V •■4;?^v y^sm^'-^'^m^^m "My son, it would have been no proof of his divinity if rising from the dead had been an ordinary occurrence. But he is God. He it was who made the law that all men should die, and that law he could suspend or alter. As man he died; as God-man he arose. The people of thy tribe believe that the spirits of the departed do not die ; can not the God who preserves the spirit preserve also the body, and give 152 .11 PfiBfi JKAH^ Ji it back to life ? Can he not at a word bid the tomb to open^ and the lifeless corpse to live and breathe again ? Ah, my son f there are no laws to bind the Omnipotent God but the laws of his own mercy and justice and eternal providence. He has been pleased to listen to the prayer of his humble followers upon this earth, and has for them wrought miracles almost equally wonderful. The Blessed Xavier, on the shore of the far east, knelt and prayed, and the ear of the Almighty was inclined towards him, and when the holy priest stretched forth his hand, and called upon the dead to come forth from his silent grave, the lifeless sprang up into strength and health and beauty.'^ ' ^ ■-" ^ » ' ^. A deep^ exclamation of surprise broke from the lipsof theattentive Indian, whilst the women of the family gathered nearer to bear the words of the animated speaker. Warmed with a holy zeal, thejesuitcon-^ tinned in a clear firm voice mm, ■im00 -; > ■ ' OR THC MIS8I01IARY. 15S '^ The resurrection of the Saviour from the dead was to be the final seal of salva* tion ; it was to open the way for us from the tomb to heaven !^' ^ »»- »K'.irf.*w^ .1,, , Then Father Laval went on to tell how, ages before his coming, the mode of his birth, his suffering, the miracles which he was to perform, his passion and his death had been foretold, and how exactly they had been accomplished; and he summed up all the evidences of Christianity, while the young warrior listened attentively, often bowing his head in token of assent. "Yes, ii must be true,^* he said at length, after the Jesuit had concluded: "Kiskepila must believe." c^?»>ir '^m^'tm' Thus Father Laval sought every ap- portunity to impress upon the mind of the young warrior the truths of Christianity, and the relation which existed between them made the young Iroquois listen with^ a docility unexampled among that fierce race. Whatever the young man learned 11 154 ^^< PERE JEAH^ ii- he was sure to communicate to Morning Flower^ M^ ho soon began to seek occasions of conversing with the priest, and listened with admiration to his accounts of the splendor of the cities of France, and the numlier of their inhabitants, things like th^ wonders of fairy tales to her unso- phisticated imagination. With these ac- counts the priest always mingled descrip- tions of the splendid churches and of the gorgeous ceremonial, of the sacred rites performed within them, to the honor and glory of God, and explained them to the maiden as well as he could in his imper- fect knowledge of the language. Then, leaving these subjects, he would converse upon the moral relations of Christian so- eidty, instruct her in the duties of woman, and teaoh her the obligations of religion, the sanctity of marriage, and the beauty atid holiness of purity of heart and body. M(»rning Flower drank in his words^ and b^ them in her heart. But this was the OR TH£ MISSIONARY. 155 work of days. In the meanwhile the village was filled with various accounts of the conversations which the priest had held in the tent of Kiodego — how he had spoken of wonderful and mysterious things^ and how he had said that th^ fathers of the blackgown^ id times not long gone by, had called the dead from their tombs. These reports, increased and distorted as they passed from moiith to mouth, cast a species of awe around the priest in the eyes of many. He began to be looked upon as a magician or medi- cine more powerful than their own. Yet, unconscious of all this, the humble Jesuit pursued his labors with increasing as- siduity. '^iii*. JP J .... J . r-. "' ■ • .* i; ' ' "■> ' j/{'- ' .■ ", ■ I ' \ ;#-+*H«-f ''«' WFMI ^ 1^V!MrH|^'^*^/f -,. % 'fihm^ f z^m ii^ii •:?f ,a: t The Council. [VERY night Father Laval and the novice had been bound and eonfined with the other prisoners in the lodge. In the meanwhile Rene Bourdoise began to gain strength^ for Morning Flow- er^ compassionating bis sufferings, extend- ed her kindness towards him^ and supplied him^ as well as Father Laval^ with food, in addition to that distributed by their captors. A little gentle exercise, and hours of rest assisted nature wonderfully in her recuperative efforts : but although the two Frenchmen recruited each day in health, they were still subject to all the petulant cruelty of the Iroquois. Still it was only : L PERE JEAN. 157 that common torture which every cap- tive was made to endure^ and though great in itself^ dwindled away into littleness when met by their boundless patience and tranquillity of heart. '? i ?? « f * i^ A week had passed, but there seemed to be no disposition on the part of the Mohawk warriors to leave their village even upon a hunting expedition. It was the corn moon^ and plenty surrounded them — and the Indian is always satisfied if the present moment be provided for. They were awaiting the return of the runners with the fire-water from Port Or- ange. Towards the evening of the sixth day these messengers came back unex- pectedly to the village, having met a Dutch trader some days* journey from the village, and purchased from him the ne- cessary supply. It was now determined by the braves that a council should be held on the following day to decide upon the fate of the prisoners ; and a portion J , —I- y^'.^ r ■'■■* ^.i^ 158 ' P£R£ J£AN« of the fire-water was set aside for the ca rousings which would follow upon such a proceeding. A runner was therefore at once despatched to the village which had joined in the war party, inviting the pre- sence of a deputation to assist at the council. -"^^"^ '■'•■■' ^'^ ^-'-'^ ..•:.'->;? ...-•: >.-. Father Laval, who had already retired to the council lodge, watched these pro- ceedings with a troubled eye; he saw bustle and preparation, but was unable to conceive its object. Leloup sat coldly watching the movements of the Iroquois, knowing too well what was likely to en- sue. The Jesuit at length turned an in- quiring eye upon him, and questioned him: . ^-^'^^ .'^■'^i^c -^? -ti. o^ ^.h^m^^m^ *' What is the cause of all this commo- tion, tHy son y i" '":^#-,j< jfii/'..^ .j..U-»-*^ ^-'if^uuit ^ '^ Fire-water ! ^^ said Leloup, senten- tiously. " The runners have come back from the traders, and the Mohawk will be crazy to-night — he will kill if he can." OR THE MISStOKAIiY* 150 " If he can ? — alas ! there is nothing to prevent him; then, my children, we must look upon death as immediately be^ fore us, and be ready to meet him like Christian men! " ' , J ■ *-^yi:'i umii tm'H'-J'- *' Good ! '* said Leloup emphatically, "but they will not all drink— they will cast lots, who shall be guard-^-wiat/ kill, though. It is good to be ready ! ^' ''**'** At length the council lodge was closed up and fastened firmly, while it was evi-* dent to the prisoners that a double guard was placed over them, to protect them from any attempts which might be made against them by the intoxicated Indians in the fury of their orgies. The noise without began to increase^ and soon be^ came uproarious. The greater portion of the intoxicating liquid had been care-* fully cr^ncealed in order that it might be preserved for the second festival, in pur-^ suance of the plan adopted. The intoxi^ cation, therefore, of the braves, scarcely 160 rm P£R£ jfiANyf u-f^ reached to that point of frenzy when the whole passion of the savage is aroused and nothing but blood will satisfy him. Yet now and thei. an Indian, more ex- cited than the rest, would approach the lodge with reeling step, but flashing eye, and endeavor to force bis way to the pris- oners; but the strong guard, at the en- trance, always baffled their attempts, and drove off the assailants with good hu- mored blows and laughter. As the arms of the drinkers had been taken from them little danger was to be apprehended from them, unless they should succeed in ob- taining them again. Night came on, and by the light of the fires the revellers car- ried on their orgies. The blaze falling on the front of the council lodge, cast the rear and the tents behind it into a dark shadow. Most of the inhabitants had gathered in the open space, and were oc- cupied in observing the mad antics of the drunken Indians. At length, while the •■Vi:fJ:JIC" OR THE MISSIONARY. 161 carousing was at its height^ a figure slow- ly emerged from the fidge of the forest, and keeping in the darkest shadows, out- stretched upon the ground, coiled along slowly and cautiously towards the lodge. There it rolled up close beside the lower logs of the rude building, and even to a searching eye was almost indistinguisha- ble from them. Thus it lay for some timemotioL^iess. Leloup had just stretched himself upon the hard floor, when he heard a low sound like the ticking of an insect in the log near his head. It perse- vered in a singular manner, and he an- swered it with a like sound. -^M%|t^|^l# "Huron! '^ said a voice very low, but perfectly distinct — reaching no other ear but that of the prostrate warrior. ^^*ifW " Leloup ! ^^ replied the other, giving his name.' ^""^* '^■'"■'■'■"""^"-" "" .iia#^l^ili|i^ "Good!" said the othet voice, whidh theHuron recognised as that of Ahasistari. "Council to-night? " asked the chief, after a pause. ■ »^y«.:*Kii >v\?>u irmn mm^* ifk. 162 'in. PEAJS JEAN^ o -^" No, to-morrow! " said Leioup. -^ fit^Is the blackgown strong enough lo travel to the river? ^^-^t^if.fi.ivmmt-^'^i, . c : ^VYes ! but the Mohawk is quick and WaiCniUl* .i'j.f^Wfv:- V?* '■■i;4.i4T ^ 7-?s-vt -v'r-A!'^'"'^ ffc'^Can the Huron escape fVora the lodge with the help of Ahasistari ?'^ 3 *« "There is aa opening above, but all are bound hand %nd foot." - >^ > ^4%flThe knife of Ahasistari will sever the cord" — a silence ensued^ during which the chief was busily occupied in remov- ing a block, which filled up the space be- tween two of the logs—" let Leioup lay close, so that the knife may cut his cord,'' said Ahasistari, as the block began to yield to his efforts. At this moment two braves of the guard, fearful that some of the carousers might endeavor to do mis- chief through an opening in the rear^ passed around the lodge to examine it. They conversed as they went along, and the engrossing topic of the village expec^ tation filled their minds. %& mw B't^^' OR 1^H£ MISSIONARY. 163 " The pale face is a great medicine," said one 5 " the braves of the tribe will not .^;^tare hioi in the council-^for he will blight the coming harvest, and cast a spell on the hunting grounds." ^wm* "The big Huron will be tortured," said the other. Jvar' '' ■ -'^.ap ' r t-t^^i-iji^ "Yes! no one will adopt them, and they must be tortured, the dogs!" §# " The council will decide to-morrow— Kiohba wishes all to be tortured. None know the wishes of Kiodego, and the war chief is silent."* * «"?: -i #:?«**«;i^. ■ *-hHi^ ^Hf *^'** Why has he come from his far land, firom the bones of his fathers, across the gr^at water, to the hunting grounds of the red men ? His people have settled down among our brothers in the north, and lo ! they have made them women! They have turned the Hurons to dogs, made them forsake the Great Spirit, and joia with the pale face in battle against their own kind and color ! The blackrobe is a medicine ; he speaks, and warriors weep ; the Hurons are his slaves ; he is a great medicine. What shall be the fate of the paleface?'' ^ «- . . ...^ ..„ .1. ,.^- The chief sat down, and a silence of a few minutes' duration ensued. It was broken at length by a warrior, who said : -^ " Let him die ! Eiohba's voice is that the pale face die at the stake. His en- chantments have destroyed the Hurons, have drivei: away the buffalo and bound- ■ -„ , , - ' .'". j&i ' ' * OR TH£ MISSIONARY. 171 ing deer. His people have swept down the beautiful forests on the great river. Kiohba has seen him make that sign upon tiS forehead^ which our white brothers of Fort Orange tell us is a folly and a wickedness — ^a sorcery. If the chiefs spare the pale face^ he will soften the hearts of the Iroquois and weaken their arms in battle^ and they will fall before his people^ and become slaves^ like the Hurons. The pale ftice must die!'' -» ■* Several of the warriors nodded their heads in silent approval of the speech of the brave. ' . ^ * *'Let us keep the great medicine,'^ said one who had not been of the war party^ but who had listened with wonder to the reported conversions of the priest* '^ Let us keep him in the tribe. Let us make him our brother^ and give him the first ripe corn and the fattest of the deer ! Let us build him a lodge^ and his heart will love the Mohawk people^ he will strength- en their arms and protect their villages !'' 172 PE&E JEJlK, A smile of scorn played upon the lips of Kiohba^ as he replied : " My brother is a cunning counsellor; he is wise and brave at the council fire ! Does he need a great medicine to strengthen his cour- age? Kiohba fears not the medicine. He has met the Huron and the French in battle. The pale face must die!'' * Other warriors now arose, some es- pousing one side and some the other. The dispute grew warm, when Kiod^go in- terposed: " My brothers !'' he said, " it has been de^landed, why the blackrobe came into ou 'and. and why he goes far into the wilderness with the Hurons, scattering his spells upon his path. Let the pale face answer ! Unbind him, and lead him forward." A young warrior hastened to release the Jesuit, and assisted him into the circle. ^^'^^-^-'^ ^^'^ ^ ^^^ ■ - — ■ ^^' Speak, Tulhasaga!" said the old chief coldly, as if he bad m yet heard >»(.; i:^^ ■ :.m OR TH'? MISSIONARY. 173 nothing from the priest concerning the object of his mission. "Speak! Why comest thou to our landl What dost thou seek?" ... ,^^ Father Laval bowed his head for a mo- ment in prayer, and then replied : " Chief, I seek souls ; I came to do the work of my Master; I came to preach another faith in this land, to teach and instruct the ignorant. My mission is one of peace ; it is with the souls of men, and not their bodies. I would teach them to calm their passions, to cast out the spirit of evil from their hearts ; to walk in the path of justice and of virtue. I came over the stormy waters to bear the tidings of the Gospel to the heathen, and \o plant the holy cross in the wilderness. You abk, with what object I was going far into the west. I was about to seek new con- verts to the cross. But, chief," — and the voice of the missionary swelled out into its fullest and most musical tones, entran- 174 PBRfi JEAN^ cing the ear of the savage. His form was lifted up^ and his hands outstretched be- fore him. '^ But, chief, the Great Spirit, in his wisdom, has willed it otherwise. Prom my path to the Huron country he has turned ray steps towards the Mohawk villages — and here, O chief, in captivity, submissive to the will of my divine Mas- ter, I preach Christ to the Iroquois 5 I preach Christ crucified; listen to me!" Deep exclamations broke from the aston- ished council, but they awaited in pa- tience. ^^You are in darkness, I bring you light; receive it!" And he told them how God had created the world, and man the lord of all ; of the fall ; of the redemption ; of the new Gospel ; of the commission to his apostles and their successors, to go forth and ^' teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost j" how that commission had been sealed by miracles; how the blind saw, ?•! I OR THE MISSIOlfARr. 175 the lame walked, and the dead were raised to life again. And then he painted be- fore their eyes^ in glowing colors, the joys of heaven which were reserved for those who should believe in him, and love and serve him, and the fearful torments which the all-just God destined for those who should reject and disobey his com- mands. A gleam of wild joy broke from the eyes of the Hurons, as they looked upon the astonished Mohawks, while the Jesuit continued : " This is the religion which I preachy these are the glad tidings which I bring you; and it is to announce this Gospel to the children of the wilderness that I have come from the land of the east. The Great Spirit speaks it to you by my mouth ; listen, and be- lieve. ,^, '„.,;::^i,. ^^h-. .... :„•:, - ,rr*; 5i .M^; Jit.;i,i|. Father Laval concluded, and silence reigned for a time throughout the lodge. At length Kiodego addressed bim : ^i'^My brother has spoken well, he is 176 FfiR£ JEAN, wise ! But he tells a strange tale, how shall we believe him?" ' *^He speaks with a forked tongue," said Kiohba ; '* he is a liar!" '* We are satisfied wiih our own God," exciaimed another — " the war-god — Wa- cor^jah. The God of the great medicine bm made cowards of the Hurons ; the Go ' of the Mohawks strengthens the arms of his children in battle. The Mo- hawks want not the God of the pale face." And then the clamor for his death became louder, while the advocates, not of mercy, but of delay for expedieL cy, were silenced. The fate of the good priest seemed al- ready sealed. Without further delay, a Mohawk approached him, and, at a signal from the chief, coLpeiied him to kneel, and began to paint his head and face. Then a shout of joy broke from the crowd without 5 for it was the mark of death upon the victim, and they revelled al- ready in anticipation of the torture. At OR THE MISSIOITART. 177 that moment a slight movement was made in the crowd around the door ; it swayed forward and backward^ and then gave way, leaving an opening into the centre of the circle. Leaning upon a warrior, Kiskepila^ weak and tottering, with his bandages still upon his wounds, pressed forward through the passage. The eye of the young chief fell upon the group in the centre. An exclamation burst from his lips. With the mighty energy of a strong spirit he rose from the arm that supported his weak form and strode alone into the circle. With one hand he cast aside the Mohawk; the other he rested upon the brow of the priest. A death-like stillness reigned upon the scene; not a hand was raised to arrest his course ; not a voice was uplifted against him. Sur- prise held all men silent, while the flash- ing eye of the young warrior turned from face to face. "Kiskepila is a chief,'' said the young eagle of his tribe, " who 3l^^ 178 PERfi JEAir^ u will oppose him? The Hurons have fled before the arm of Eiskepila! Shall he have no voice in the^ councils of the tribe?" And he placed the other hand above the head of the kneeling priest. "Shall he be silent when the boaster is heard?" and he pointed to Kiohba. '^Kiskepila asks the chiefs and braves to spare the pale face." He looked around for a reply — there was none. At length Kiohba said coldly : " The chiefs and braves have spoken ; the pale face must die. See ! the death paint is upon his brow." With a look of scorn the young man turned away from the speaker and glanced once more around the circle. The fea- tures of the stern Mohawks were un- moved; they were silent. Kiohba was triumphing. My brothers!" said Kiskepila^ his »:? eye lighting up again with indignation^ '^my brothers, Kiskepila was wounded OR THE MISSIONARY. 179 and fainting^ and dying upon the field of battle ; and the pale face bathed his lips and bound his wounds. Kiskepila oweid a life to the pale face, and he will repay it. Let Kiohba show the mark of a Huron on his breast^ or the scalp of a foe at his girdle.^' ""■ ^ "^^^.'-^ ■■ ---r- ^'^v \ .,,:.t The Indian replied not. The eyes of the old men turned upon the Jesuit, and, with an exclamation of wonder, they looked to the chief of the war party, for confirmation of a story to them so strange. ^^ The words of the young eagle are true," he said ; ^^ the pale face bound up the wounds of Kiskepila ; he saved his life. The blackrobe was a dove upon the field of battle — a dove among the eagles." Silence again ensued. The Jesuit, wrapped in prayer, scarce heeded the scene around him i but ever and anon the bright eye of Leloup would gleam upon him, as, with head bent forward, the Huron listened, with interest, to the words of the young Mohawk chief. 180 PfiRE JEANj i») "The council have spoken I" Emd Kiohba again, fearful that a change might take place in the opinions of the warriors, some of whom seemed to lean towards the young chief; '* the council have spoken; the pale face must die. It is right ; for the spells of the blackrobe are upon the heart of Kiskepila ; he has made a Huron of the Mohawk.'' " You lie, dog!" exclaimed the young chief, fiercely. " The tongue of Eaohba is not forked/' said the oiher^ coldly, feeling the ad- vantage which he was gaining, through the generous impetuosity of his opponent. " Let the chiefs look : Kiskepila could not walk alone to the council lodge ; and see ! he stands, as if he had no wounds upon him ; it is the spell of the pale face medicine. The blackrobe must die, or the warriors will become women !" The old men shook their heads, as they looked upon the upright and noble figure aM- £S4itf *^*rft"l^ fhv^,- .iii»» ^- >^, OR THK MISSIONARY. 181 79 3 young brked," the ad- hrough ponent I could b; and rounds le face lie, or f s they figure of the young brave, while the bandages were still fresh, as it were, upon deep and dangerous wounds. It was the en- ergy of the spirit, not of the flesh, that sustained the chief. The eves of Kin' gleamed with joy, as he saw the ini sion he had made. The young man a^axu spoke, but in a lower and sterner tone : '^ Kiskepila owes the pale face a life ; he shall not die! Kiskepila will adopt him as his brother, in place of him who is dead. He demands the pale face for his brother!" ^ » ■I?* i 'nt. Y fi\^ H-ttt Kiohba smiled grimly, as he replied, pointing to the old chief: "The father may demand the prisoner, to adopt him as his son. Let the chief speak; will he take to his lodge the sorcerer, who has changed the heart of the young eagle who was once the truest of the Mo- hawks?" f . .s t -^"'^^^■:iy^ ■I •JJ.v ^ Absorbed in anxious expectation, the young brave heeded not the taunt. The itH ^ ^ ^ '*;>^^.^< IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1.25 UiM2A 12.5 lU u 140 2.0 ■lUU o> (^ V 'i.a«J,. Hiotographic Sciences Corporation 23 WfST MAIN STRIET WEBSTER, N.Y. MSSO (716) 872-4S03 •^ \ qv \\ [v 6^ '.^ „»\l-s/.. ' r,:.i,-.,>.--^. .'i.'Ji^lKinft' ■^ / , , . ' . '- : - ■"^.— ^^> f V •■■■'■:-.;' . :'-'V V'i^v ■ • ^ -. -It,-' • V , !^ ' i- ;.. / ■' " '.'?•■' ■ ;• - ■■v.; '. V- - f-'"'^ ■/■'-. - ■ ■ ;, • ^ *^-- -.;S" • ,. _ ," ' ^ ■-}•'■■'■■:. ~i ;■ ' " . - ' ''-■■r.-S-^:' ' ■■ • '. : ' ■}•' } •\ jt - ■1 > - • ^ % >4, u^4«, lij ^ 6>i ■ 1« ■ <, ^J^ •^ 1^5 182 PERK JEAN^ old man was silent for a moment^ thea raising his head^ replied^ firmly : -^^ "^^^'Kiskepilatoo^ a warrior^ a Mohawk. He has taken a Huron heart. The pale face has told him strange tales^ and he has heard. The blackgown is a sorcerer. The father of Kiskepila will not claim him; let him die!'' The head of the yoong chief sank upon his breast^ and he was silent. «^"He must die!" re-echoed Eiohba, and . tauntingly^ continued : ^'he tells you that his God raised the dead to life ; why does he not call up the great Champlain from the tomb to protect his people? Let ius see whether his Qed will save the pale face^ when the flames shall glow and curl around his white limbs ! " «aftf You demand of me a miracle !" Fa- ther Laval replied gently ; " you call on my God to raise the dead. He has dune 1H| he can do it s^ain. He has opened ite sileiu tomb, and bid the dead arise '■ .:V ■f».:*. ■,-%.**«: OR THE MISSIONARY. 183 ^t^ thea ohawk. le pale and he >rcerer. claim of the ^t, and lohba^ Us you rwhy nplain Jople? re the w and •'Pa- all on dune )ened arise and come forth^ glowing with liie^ and healthy and energy; and he has done this at the prayer of his holy servants. I am but his humble follower. What right have you to demand from the Ood who made you a sign and a miracle in testi- mony ? Yours is not the prayer of the willing; it is the scoff of the hater.'' ?«v ' '^ The indignant voice of the Jesuit ceased. After a pause of some moments an Indian approached^ and finished painting his head and face. It was the sign of final condemnation, and was received with ex- ultation by many ; yet there were not a few who began to entertain an increased dread of what they imagined to be his power. Bat the feeling of the council was excited^ although that assemblage still retained its calm and grave aspect; and^ with but little delay^ the novice jmd the Hurons were also condemned to the torture. Father Laval^ Leloup i^id two other Hurons were to suffer on the mor* .'^: >:.«.: »■ ■** Ji^-: ?HMH W *t' *«■ * *■ < ■ - ■ ^-^a' 184 FERK JEAN^ row, in front of the council lodge, while Rene Bourdoise and the three remaining Hiirons were to be tortured at the other village. The prisoners received their doom calmly, the Huions looking coMly on the preparations, which were begun at once, to carry out the sentence of the council, which then broke up. ''When Kiskepila found all his efforts fruitless, he took the arm of the warrior, who had assisted him to the spot, for his strength began to fail very rapidly, and, in silence, returned to his tent, determined not to look upon sufferin^^ which he could not prevent or allevia . Morning Flower awaited sadly the termination of the council, and wept over the fate of the blackgown; but she recalled to memory the beautiful lessons of patience which he hstd taught her, and suppressed the manifestation of her grief^*^ ^ ^i-^rm^M ^ The ^uron messenger of Ahasistari struck directly through the forest in the !*. t)R THB MISSIONARY. 1851 direction of\he plade where the brareali were supposed to lie cotcealed^ Theb stars were shining in the clear heavens, ' and an occasional glance at their spark#l ling orbs served to guide his path. Upil over hill and steep ascent, over fewamp > and morass went the swift Indian, at his loping trot, tireless, never pausing. Midi^t night came, and the runner still pressed on; his moccasined feet springing yep^ lightly from the soft turf, as he bounded^ on. Darkness melted slowly into the grapl of ntiorn, and morning brightened into day ^t and yet the Huron speeded on. At$ length he paused upon the summit of »^ little hill. At its foot, clear and pellucid0^ flowed a gentle streamv But no traceil could he discover of any living thingp upoii its batriis, or in its surroundings forest. A moment more his eye sca&m^d the wood, and then descended to th^ll^ * water's edge. A^ he leaned upon hisli rifl^i^ |iprgu|^ ^etitad . J|e ^ c^ 186 PBBP JBANj flowing by him, till bis gaze seemed rireted by a floating twig, with green leaves upon it. An eddy whirled it in towards the shore, and he drew it towards him with the but of his rifle. The frac- ture of the branch was fresh, and it was evidently torn, not bitten ofi*. Swinging his rifle into the hollow of his arm, the runner turned directly up the stream, taking care to leave no tracks behind him. For some time he proceeded on his course, still casting an occasional glance at the forest around him, and on the ground before him, watching for the marks of a trail. Suddenly he paused, and looked intently upon the ground, and then stooped dawn to examine the surface more closely. > nm-^ iw 4 ,j.-- ■ :^ vs* . v^^i... A'i'^^- 1/' Hugh I paleface!" he exclaimed. IITbl step was turned from the stream; treading cautiously, so ks not to obliterate lUi^ trail He followed it back to the water's edge, and examined the bushes OR THE MISSIONARY. 167 which grew there ; they were of the same kind as the branch which he held in his hand. Falling into the trails he traced it up the hill^ along the summit of which it ran. At length a low whistling struck upon his ear, and he paused to listen; and then crept on more cautiously. At the foot of a large tree, on an elevated spot, from which an extensive sweep of the forest, facing towards the Mohawk village, was visible, sat the figure of a white man, holding in his hand a large rough ox-horn, which he was busily en- gaged in shaping into a powderhom. Every now and then he compared it with the one which was slung at his side, and^ then renewed his« labors. Suddenly % new idea seemed to strike him ; and, piit^ ting it to his mouth, he gave a blast, which made the Huron start with sur- prise. Then he began at once to shape the small opening into something like a mouth-piece. At last he seemed satisfied, and putting it to his lips, sounded it again. 1«8 /M'/PfiKE JEAir^ n €€ <^ Ha! that will do !'' he said at length ; ^ood idea ; Indian hates the sound of a hotn, and I like it. Well/ 1 may want it sooti ;" and he stuck it in hid belt As he did so, the Huron runner stepped before himi-^^ 4f 'ir- '■ -^ ••:"■• .•u}'^* thi iiv'C^j I it^ L' Espibn Hardi ! " The scout sprang to his feet> grasping his rifle, t? ».rr{ . .'? • liu'^Ah ! Huron !^^ he said, as his eye fell upon the dress and paint of the Indian ; and he resumed his seat again, vr /r . v^ ^P0 Hurdn 1 Yes ! No Mohawk ! or ''— and the Indiaa j^ointed significantly to his SCa}|>. • " ■ - ■ - : ' ' ■ ' ^ > -p / ^^ "> i:n :••< , ■ i4 i . b'V:. ; : ? r ** Right, Huron ! I was making a pow- derhorn, when I thought of the trumpets of Ghamplain, as he marched to batde. Ah ! did you ever fight under Ghamplain, Huron V^ vif^cfi '' ' ' ""''i1uk.}*h '>^ ^^ 'r^^^t'^'i^n i f ^1 tf No ! the chief and ihany of the bf aVfes were out I'^-^'n'^t^'- 'H^?^^«^f■^■^f#''''fJ^H■T'^"''^^'^^t^^^^ ^ ^Jfes, I know it, Huron ! Well, il came illto my head to try hoW a. good blast T»;4,? OR THE MISaiONARY. 189 gth; of a nt it she efore irang would sound in this old forest. It was rash, I won^t deny it/' he continued, as the Huron shook his head ; ^^but a French- man loves the sound of the trumpet Listen now/' he said, applying the trum- pet to his lips once more ; but the In4iAT:^ placed his hand upon it and said iMn^d^ I rj** Daring scout! Mohawk hunter may hear ! " '■■'*' ' ^ a? ■ ; ''■-> •• ; • -. ■ ^ • ^ ■i-*- - ;- n^'iftf^ stfl IrM ITes, yes! but when we were out against the Mohawks with Champlain, he let them hear more of it than they liked." .hf* Great brave!" said the runner.r4j4ir ^' Yes, he was a warrior ! It does me good to hear his name shouted in a brisk charge; it helps wonderfully, altl /Jgh he is dead and gone now. Yes, he was a man," continued Pierre, sorrowfully ; Pno such man in 2^11 the province now, or these rascally Mphawka .would be taught a lesson worth if^iQemberii^/^*©^^ ■fi^ff The daring scout iis wHk th^Hiurpii jMratesI" ajsked thpTuanet^^^^v^tii'W^lii 'ji Immi ■ri i^i ■u l-aifcfcRkfe; 190 V {s P£Rfi j£Air, <» "4 *' Yes ! and I suppose you are the mes- l^nger that I am to look for V The run- ner nodded his head^ and the other con- tinued : %i' i >»* 'y ♦ <(| *; ••They are across the stream ; let us go;'' and^ swinging his rifle over his shoulder^ the scout descended the hill with rapid strides. When they approached the stream^ the runner glided to the side of the hunter, and holding up the broken twig before him, said : • ^ ^^ ^ • » ^' ' ''W^ Daring scout casts a trail upon the water. Huron found this far down the stream." I The scout looked at it for a moment, while the runner explained himself; and then, half angry at the implied reproach, answered? ..}'■>*»' -i * •-,(•: ':,,,:.-5,,i-i.it,;-i< ,'m..-Ti-r --i ,-m* €f "Well, and but for that twig you would not have found us ; you missed the trail !'' € *^ I crossed it in the night," said the HuroUj " but not far oflF. Up or down the stream, the Huron would soon have found it." OR THE MIS8I0MARY. 191 t( If- Far enough^ at any rate,'' said the scout, ** or you would have been here at once, without striking on the stream be- low. See, here is one of duickfoot's marks upon this oak ; he followed directly upon the trail, and even made it plainer for you, by these gashes !'V . ^.t; > "Bad!" replied the runner, quickly, /* Mohawk keen eye ! " . fv- >f j/ii» Horn- • f /' Night and day," continued the scout, '' we kept watch, by turns, upon that hill which overlooked the path, waiting for the messenger, whom Quickfoot told us Ahasistari would send." ' -^ ^^* , "Huron!" said Pierre, after walking some time in silence, " have you seen the prisoners ^".f-vd.:. I i v^.^'> n m -I^cim :fMl4# fiif"Yes, from the woods; saw black- gown walking about." i i'1-f f : »>->M^l> Ik , i.^iWell, perhaps then they won't at- tempt to kill them yet, and we can get there in time." ' ' Jw^.,| The Indian shook his head, and said: ■^ ^ i' ^JL ^ £ .^v '^/ii-ikisS,s'^>iSS«!W Lvn?'**^.'**^**^ TW^^|J^^W».T^ -jr ■^'JljRT';- T' . '"Ry ^^ .-.: >19S ■ YX VIRE J BAN. an (.1 ;. 4f Today council ; to- tnorrdw lorture; daring scout knows liow it is." ** ,H»* - , .iv*«'Then," said iho scout sternly, as he strode aloug with swifter step, "then, Huron, there will be at the dance some guests not invited.'* »•*<»• ),wjiiU ^iU* ».> */ They hastened on in silence, until they reached the place of concealment. It was well chosen. In an extensive thicket, a space had been cut away, and here the warriors Were lying about in groups upon their blankets. Exclamations of delight welcomed the scout and the runner, and the whole body assembled in council. The runner explained the condition of things, and delivered the order of the chief; and in a few. moments more the party, nineteen in number, took up their line of march, throwing out ac- tive scouts in advance, to guard against any '^accidental nieetin^ with the Mo- hawks. ^^^ -..-^f . ■s;^.:^4f>M^l^Yii^- ..iiy^^fyif '-j'miij n*,. .'■«; ^ lorlure; illy, as he P, "then, mce some until they t. It was thicket, a here the >ups upon >f delight aner, and council, dition of r of the nore the took up out ac- lii|ainst he Mo- *'■'■ i ■* ;j,vi.d •^h;U5 'K«I $ii^i?-i^J h' • rj.v; ii.''!..rv/ t|'^l|l'*,*.,Ati*'Vf '•'■j fvt '1i'''! ■♦ ( I '''''^ggio o b o ' '-^^ CHAPTER X. J J n\ /^^ /^ >^^ /-N /^^ /'"i The Tortme. , ,,w,i ^MEDIATELY after the break- ing up of the council, Ae^Mo- Gawks began their preparation^|Bp th^? coming festival. Four stakes were planted in front of the lodge, and piles of fagots were gathered in the forest. At a littl6^ distance beyond the first, four other stakes were placed, to which the prisoners, whose fate was postponed, were to be bound, that they might witness the agony of their brethren, and suffer, themselves, la anticipation. The youths of the village now commenced to gather about the lodge, in order to enjoy the preliminary torture. :^ fei?w'^f-'vp,r 194 PERE J£ANy which was permitted them for their own especial amusement, and to pj^actise thetn in the ways of cruehy. This sometimes endured until taken part in by the braves, when it did pot cease until death brought relief to the victim. Leloup and Father Laval were brought forth and tied to two of the stakes, and the clamorous mob hovered around them, pelting and annoy- ing them in a thousand ingenious modes of pettv torture. They soon, however, heoflHfmore systematic, and, drawing off to ai Utile distance, practised upon their living targ^, with the bow and arrow, and the tomahawk. Leloup stood up with the proud and fearless bearing of the war- rior^ his steady eye gleaming unmoved upon the flashing weapon, as, hurled from the skilful hand^ it grazed his tern- pie, and sank quivering into the post be- hind him. Another and another threw ; it was a desperate game, in which the winner was he who came nearest to death '■■T*T'^^;'T*,*'^'"^'^''''''"''''^r''.'''''-''" '■?-^'j*'''./'-"'-''''"'"r-,'''''3:"';*K^-"":.^^; '!'■"'■" ".'■;'^ " on TAl?^ MISSIONARY. ■■■& 1 5i ■ i'' '• ¥*^*' 195 withottt ' tbucfaing life. Father Lavlf endured with the meekness and patience of the martyr; his eyes were upturned to heaven^ for he dared not look upon the hand that threw the coming weapon. Kiohba« the Mohawk, stretched out upon the soft turf, watched the youthful tormenters with quiet enjoyment, occasionally sug- gesting to them some new mode of in- creasing the sufferings of the victims. At length, as his appetite for cruelty became excited, he arose, and, seizing one if the tomahavi ks, drew back and hurled it at the Jesuit. The weapon whistled through the air, and struck the post by his temple, driving a lock of his hair into the wood. A shout of delight arose from the crowd at this evidence of skill, and Kiohba, rais^ ing another weapon, aimed a second time at the priest. It struck upon the other side as truly as the first, and the victim^ stood drawn back to the post by his owfi hair* Renewed applause broke from the r'' '.V '•-"''■-^ x'v^! r? x'V^*ir^"i' •t-S!--"' i96 tifli FBHE JEAN, iO iiyouths^ and each one endeavored to emu> 4ate the skill of the warrior. After some lioie, they grew tired of their sport, and ^|he prispnera were pernutted for awhile to v^poain unmolested. Ir^--^^ **?!* #*^^f ^*5^' ^ As the crowd drew away from the spot, the ^gure of a maiden glided silently to .the side of the Jesuit, and, offering a cool- ing draught to his parched lips, bathed jbis brow, which the intense excitement had caused to throb with feverish pain, 'f Sjtranger from over the far watera^ Morn- ing Flower thought once to avenge upon thee the wounds of the Young Eagle. ,But blackgQwn has pardoned the wrongs .of «the Mphawk girl^l^hou bast told us of the glory of forgiving and loving our ^Diemies— Tulhasaga, thou art the enemy ^i;l)l«( Mohawks, but Morning Flower doth not hate thee.^^M li jmrn^q^'mh^n %^f ' Heaven ble^|hee, my child, and lead I thee, through the merits^ of Him who died ^;MPQfl1b^ cross, to a^f way of salvation, ^H f »J T TT^ OR THB MlSMdlTARY. %4 *X l^r pwteerfingit^efr^ trials ^nd Buftetiirg^,'*^ ' said thi^ Jesuit sadly^ but fetvently/ ' ' '^^^ ; ulFhe Indian girl placed herself upon th# ^rass^ and looked up into his fi^ce af^ fectionately, as if to a father, and said, as she caaght th^ mournfit] expression \xp6^ the countenance of the priest f***^^ 4 If** ^^* Blackgown, thou hast told me that each one shall bear his cros^> llf the Bd[# viouTi of whom thou speakest, bore hiii^ Blackgown^ thou art boun4 Unto tb^ cross I'^^ftM^4^^%:4A* -^i^^j v.*i#3^ #«fe' iln a moment, the sad expression passed from the features of the ;?esuiti' and, with a holy enthusiasm, he ex-^ claimed : *^t^*- l^f-'^^f-nx^-' tuMv-h^i 1 'fA*^ ■ M^Oh God ! in the midst of soff oSv an# tribulation, thou dost send down consolar tions unspeakable "tdlfe)^^ servant ^ b|^ the mouth of this wild maiden, thou iiast uttered to me words of sweet and saving import f thou hrast stf aigthened is^^ Ihou hast consoled. Oh ! how happy to betii 198 .tj P£RS JEAir, fi^o [Uiy cross^ to suffer — to suffer for thy sake ! Gtentle maiden — ^woman still f wo- man who did not shrink from the cross and its ignominy^ from the shouts and curses of the crucifiers ! woman, still the faithful and the pure^ and the unswerv- ing! woman, the holy, holy from the holiness of the stainless mother, pure from the purity of the immaculate, gentlest of God's creatures — it was given to thee to be the angel of mercy and the comforter of the afflicted. Kind maiflen, thou hast soothed the sad spirit ; may the mother most pure, the ennqbler of thy sex, the ever virgin, intercede for thee."***, .v ,^,. And then the spirit of the captive teemed wrapt in meditation, and he stood, with eyes cast upwards, and lips moving stilly. A holy and tranquil glow crept softly over the face of him wha awaited a death of horrible torture. Sweetly it grew upon that countenance, the beam of prayer, and hope^ and joy, spreading from OR THR MISSIONART. * feature to feature^ till nothing of earth was left. Upwards, upwards soared the soul upon the wings of love; upwards unti. it seemed already to be mingling its whis- pered orisons with the seraphic choir. Hast thou looked upon the sunlight stealing gently o'er a shadowed spot? Hast thou marked the sombre cloud dis- perse, until nothing but the glad skies looked down upon thee? Hast thou watched the shrouding mist evanish, or the pale hue of sickness brighten into the red glow of health ? Thus fled sor- rpw and sadness from the captive's face. |^;The untutored maiden looked in won- der on the change wrought, as it wem^ by one unconscious word. Here she sat, looking fondly up to that glorious, heavenly face, catching from its pur§ mirror a reflection of holy thought. Unh conscious the Jesuit stood, visions of bliss l^ipfred ai'ouQd him; the gentle zephyr that fanned his cheek seemed beaten on '4' 4. Tv-f— - , . .*»JI PERE JEAN, >^^> by the wings of seraphs ( joyous songs broke upon his ear, and doudd of ihcehse floated sweetly over his wrapt seinsfes. Death and torture were before hito, but heaven was above him 5 could he look downwards to the earth and its fleet- ing torments? O wonderful mission of Christianity ! that which came upon earth to raise man far above the very sublimest idea of the heathen God, to inspire him with thought above the power of mortali- ty^ to give him a life which death could ■ not extinguish— a life beyond and above this earth — a ray oV the Spirit of God. Still unmoved the Jesuit stood, his head ihfown back and resting upon the stake, Mi^body supported by the cords which bound him, ev^ry function slumbering, every energy absorbed. He was in truth only an imprisoned soul. * Welcome the knife, welcome the torture, welcome death by fire, by steely by slow delay, for the spirit is away upon its wtngfes, al<- iSi.iS.^Ci W^' mM AymV' ait4M«4;'i» ttoe^ af tueh bKasS Ob«3^e9l noiB! weleomet deatb ; ftir Ihott o«M cmly be ttie wber of eternftlltfe 1 flUJlEe^the shudow^ when tba sniilMHUEa 1^ Iiassedf eame back ibe tkotifht ^f etaik to tht^ soul of the priest. A deiqpi sig^ lirokff firiNEn bis half closed iips; f1^ Sow lo«^ ! G Lord t how JOog I'' Awe-atriekea sat the simple lodiaa maideii, as she gazed upon that eoonte- iia)^^effa]gei|t with ineffable happiness* fbiwing with unearthly beaatjf* With parted tips and Sited eyei aba giized refereiuly — ^for woman, biased a^ Ihf ^ in9tmnient of the peat blessing Ui mant catehes intuitively the beam ofheavenfa light, and reflects it Mi her soul .I'WBXf-^m exclaimed the J^uit, and due brolisn aspiration wasfiiiishediMib^Mrd. ,M I" TrrTT.-!"- m H, 14 yi $9 .u 208' FKRB JMAM, .ih. '/■- There wasfMTi^yer in thfttwhispei^d w6rd^ prayer of it^e^sonl'^^aod it ardat from the wild heart of the uatntored Indiao-^frQin the soul of the ecstatic priest — <" Mary t" '^ At thai moment came, swelling (rem ihe prison house of the captive Hurons, the sound of a Christian hymn.; From deep stern Voices came it, but the melody was sad and plaintive, and varied with t^ yuryiDg measure of the rude, un- ildl^hed verse, f 4. -: . . (^-i^ ■4-'-..^'.4'*f^>#i->',?f^#4v ,■ ■*- H«fMr mother,, hear ! .4>4^^|t%i!|^*^%|^igi^^ Htir, qu9«D of the bright and bles«ed! Now that death 19 near, <, .. ^ .^^* . ^.^■^ The prayer to thee addressed ! ' '^'f ^ ^ Hear, for the' day is flying, ^^'^•^^**^**-«^ ; , And thy pdor chiMren, sighing, -^^^^00 S|^Bese«ch thy aid in dying. ..' -^, .^l^i^^p^ ^^i^0^^rf^-K-^¥^H^ 4,|H[ear mother, heiir t|. ,r Mother of mercy, hear f'^/r'-^P"^^^ The swi On earth i# sihkingT^ Wllliiiri%led hope and fear^ 'tiff #llildrtfi% heavls are shrinking ; ^•yv3^'5r. OR THE MIMI09ART. 20J Mother, heed: th* infferhig ohild, B«»t^^ woliildecly bruise^, reriled. Tortured ifi the Ibrett wild. ' Mother> lather hear ! j^-jf^ .'jH^rfi MofWr; % His bWod ! -m' r*^^^ 'd:|fP's .iA , . , , .^v, ,.-■■ ■•'•7. Mothlir, by thy teari and romwi By the earth's redeeming wood. Aid u« in our strife to-inorrow l/^'>)^ v^i^ Wiiiirow thy all conquering JS!f{|i|^.^v^^ By the triumph he has won, Grace and strength to gain our own. ^ * Mother, mother hear ! ^k0kf0^ih 0- *m;i*-'er. ,«.*i^:?^''iiy ;'.•*, 'i^' ■S^a'Jiri- Softly hushed the sound of prayer^ and the notes died awa^^ but the still form of the Indian girl scarce moved — waiting for the deep-toned music to awake again. It came not^ and she murmured in the air, *^ Mother, mother hear!** The haughty bearing of Leloup had" pasised away; the keen eye, that had gazed unmoved upon the flashing toma- hawk, was dimmed and softened ; hisr ^ead rested upon his breast). He Wa$ ^ ''-! * »'H PBEB JSAK, wrapt in prayeh He was the aavigo warrior no longer, but the Christian. . At length, from the coancil lodge came faintly swelling the voice of the young novice, and alternately responding the full chorus of the Hurons. They were reciting the litany. Sadly struck the tones of his young companion's yoice upon the ear of the Jesuit; They were weak and tremulous. Morning Flower listened — was it the warrior's death song? Never before, in the villages of her tribe, had sucfh chant been raised by those who were about to die. The Jesuit and Le- Idtrp joined in the responses, and the solemn '^ Miierere nobis^* rose distinct and clear!' The maiden hung in wrapt at- tention on the alternate sounds of uihay voices mingling in heartfelt prajiii^iiius pn^^ed the autumn sunset. -■ ^^l! -*, Ahasistari sat alone in his rocky hiding p%(;e. E er a)jd anon he cast i^ meaning giii^t^w^rds tile vilest, whereto hesky was, OE THE MISUOHA&T. ^1'^'^^^ ytt tii^d with gold, iHhough the orb of day btddidftppeiired* Then he rested his hetd ikpon his knees and remained im- movablr. His rifle lay at his feet, and hi$ nuMiimng arms upon it, as if he had ^i been preparing them carefully for immediate use. Twilight came, still the dhief moved not. At length he arose, and approaching nhe entrance of the cavern^ tooked out upon the forest, listening in- tently for some welcome sound — nothing stfuck upon his ear save the rustling of the leaves and the low swinging of the overhanging branches. There was silence in the vast forest; the hum of the little insect, as it uttered its evening prayer, was the only sdinnd of living thing that broke upon the solitude. For a moment it seemed that a shadow of doubt passed acioss the brow of the warrior. It oc- etifred to kim that bis party might have been mt eC ii# eould npt doubt" but that Waiook had ediected a force tod '&'\ Ji A >.. 4:';,:ii C M 4a* Hii .'«■-? i- followed itt pursuit ; iihd that CtuicKibot^ his first messenger^ had fallen in with them, as otherwise the sagacious Huron would have returned days ago, to share the fortunes of his chief. Perhaps his last messenger had missed the trail in the forest^ and for a time the chief almost regretted that he had not dared the risk consequent upon the concealment of so many men near the village, accompanied, as it was, with the advantage of their proximity in case a sudden opportunity of rescue presented itself. It was already time that the party should have reached the place of his concealment which he had designated as the point of rendezvous. But hours might yet elapse before the torture would begin, for although he did not know the exact result of the council's deliberations, he fdt that there was little doubt of the condemnation of Father Laval, and the other prisoners ; and that 'their lives hung upon a thread liable to •T'"'j»^ ...M^ *jRjh .}:'M^'^ ^t ^^^ til ff ^ Xhic:|>iiLteij*f OR TH« MISSfOlTARY. ■■^\ # %him or ;cttprieeof the savai^es. A^hef ca«t his %e atdtiiid^iiidiBtinctly it caught th^ radi^ a&G^.ofa stream of light UIummatiDg the loaisi that hung above the village* Taking lip his arms he descended to the fores|t below^ and a few momentsVwalk brought him^r||)|,a plaee whence he could catch a glimpse of the lodges^ and at the same time be near the path to the rendezvous. JPhe glare of a large fire flashed up to4^ wards the darkening sky^ and tinged with rM the waving branches of the fbrest. |^# figures were still J>ound to the stakes^ ^nd groups of boys and men were loiter- .lag about, seemingly awaiting some v Wt prdaching event, ^k^^i, '^'Mk^m^^'.'i4^:^^i^!^i^f^ fcf'The Hurons must speed on, or ihey |Bi^tUi^<^me too late/' exclaimed Ahasistari bitterly, as he stretched himself upon the ground. ^ ■ .■*^'; :'W^0m4i^^^ '^M^w^^ '-^ff^^t # The fire flashed out more brightly now, for some hand had cast more fuel on it; Ti'iB,liKlr**i''Wrfi SiV \ h'.Jf ■.v.; tXM 4KAlf » "i»;?;>' and the light of the flame played around the mild face of the Jesuit a« he stood boQiid to the stake. His htgb» bold fore- head seemed to catch the fioatrng beams, which lingered round it, like a saintly halo of coming glory. Ahasistari recog- nised the form of Father Laval, even at that distance, and, looking for a moment in silence, exclaimed : v-.. - ^' S^f^-il^ vi&**They will come too late! there will he one more stake and one more torture! My father, I swear to thee that Abasistari will share thy fortunes, whether of death or life!'' and he arose and turned towards the village. Suddenly he paused, and cast his eyes to the northeast as if he would penetrate the dark veil that stretched before him ; then he laid his ear t.« the ▼ery ground and listened. At length, casting his rifle upon the sod, he sat down, and, shrouding his face in his hands, remained still and motionless^ It a statue* i^^mmi^^ ^^apf .s^^=i^'-j^^#pi;;»fr:^»j^yf . : ^fv.'-.-f i/ !i> CrJAy /4-i,i<, 1*.- V ...J VPtt *^^>:< J^^^^|||^W#>||^ ,' 4''-: 5S,ff' V ''"'!'.'. %(^^$eem^^Wi{ii^ the Matiawks were nbout to amicipatf^ the hour of final tor* Jt^ft^ JCh-e prisoners were brought out, one 1)^ dbev^ind bound to the stakes until the eight were occupied. The crowd began HiJQCrease, and new fires were raised. iThe women gathered the fagots nearer. Fajther Lav^al looked sadly upon these pre4 jparations; but the Huron, Leloup, per^ ceiving what was passing in his mind, ^Sl^id'in broken Frenchlv.^-f:-.''=^'^v:rf^:^^fw?^?^ ^^ Not yet, my fether, not yet. The Slohawk is not so merciful! he loves hours of torture-i" :' . .^- -^-^^ ' : -'^^r^f; W^s0^- 4# Oh <3od ! give us grace to die Worths ly!^' exclaimed the Jesuit, and then re^. sumed his silent prayer, ^^'^rv ir .* t i^ #^ Darkness was deepening, but the lights of the blazing ^res rushed up fitfully to heaven, casting i red gleam upon the scene around, and making the ferocious Mohawks, as they ^||^ about in their fell work, resemble siotnany fiends at - .* .'1 W:: c *,, ;k, >?^'; -.i^" their infernal orgies* The prisloii^rft were stripped of their clothing, and the work of torture began. Snatching up burnitig pieces of wood, the savages held the^m close to the naked skin until its surface blistered with the slow heat; then, as the swollen part became dead and senseless to the lesser torture, they pressed the live coal into the raw flesh until it hissed, and fumed, and cracked, while the groan of intense agony arose from the lips of the white sufferers. The stern Indian en- dured in silence. Father Laval, a$ the red cinders pierced his flesh, elevated his soul to God, and dwelt upon the sufier- ings of him whose brow had borne a crown of thorns, whose hands and feet had been torn with nails, whose precious side had been opened witM%i spea% "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,** were evei^ on his lips, and his upraised spirit seemed at last to forsake and leave behind it ttii sorrow and sufferings of earth; and to ■i* . ' 1."* ^'- ' -'* *-, '■ J: - f . .,.H-Vf^. OR THB MiaSSONART. ■IfH ■M fioat dreadf uj^rds th^i^lo^ d sea of in* efiable delights. '^^'^$m^}^$"'*^^pWiWfif:^'mh '.< i .^.,Ren* Bourdcise, reiserved for future deaths did not escape frora present torture; tjis tormenters surrounded hioi, and lof eed into his tender skin small splinters of pitch pine, and, when a number had bejen pressed in thus, they applied blazing ^ftlthestothe parts whi«h obtruded, and the dark flame ran swiftly, from one to ap^pther, along the bristling surface, until it becatne a mass of fire. In vain the suffering youth struggled to escape; his bands only permitted him to wind round and round the stake; but, whichever way he turned, blows met him, or blazing knots of pine. Thus eight victims suf- fered-^ten thousand deaths were they en- during, and yet so skilful was the Indian in kis torture that death itself could not re- Keve them. The novice, weak from his fcng fatigues, yet sore from former ^iK^unds and sufferings, at length became 212 k-i-m:: ''■''. , i^v ; jK. is' exKausteil, and bung supported Iby his bands alone. Father Laval, mormg in the midst of his torturers around tlife stake, began to pray aloud : •^-^■^^*iV"*f«^Vv^»';H?5;r^ ** The pale face warrior sings his death soiiig," said Kiohba, '^how many war- riors hath he slain ? How many scalps has he taken ? He is a woman * a slave! a dog!'' and the shouts of the infuriated mob drowned the voice of the priesti^ r In the tent of Kiodego, the chief, sat a wounded man, faint and weak^ his form reclined against a pile of furs/ his hands covered his face, his breathing was deep and stern, but there was no other mark of life about him. At his feet sat an Indian maiden — Morning Flower was weeping! Still on rang the furious shout of the wild savage — on went the fearful torture — the fiendish dance went on. But loudest of ail arose above the tumult the shrill voices of the beldames as they gathered around Leloup. The Indian heeded them '■Jiii^L^i, ,?* ■J^ v:^:^ ■'tvkhl OA TH« MI^SIOHARr. ; s not } he was p^jpikhbg Ihlmseff to aie. Then for a time it seemed as if the freazy of the Mohawks was dying away^ but it aooii broke out ia renewed fury, and the various crowds drew off to hurl the tomahawk- ^' See," said Kiohba, " how a b^ave can strike!" aod he repeated the feat of skill he had hefore performed. With a laugh of scorn,another Mohawkstepped forth, and^ brandishing his weapon, exclaimed :;i^ ^^^JJTou have grazed his head, I will drive the ears of the blackgown into the stake.'? The lyiohawk aimed at Father Laval^ who gazed upon him almost unconscious- ly. The moment was one of deep peril ; no matter how skilful the aim, a sudden motion of the victim, an involuntary start would, instead of mutilation, bring death. Jijva^ a feat of nice and precise skill, and the Mohawk measured his distance care- fully, and drew back his arm. 4^^ ^ v Suddenly the peal of a rifle broke upon the air^ and then another and another, in ' rt- 'Q§^gm.i: M •fe-vV-ifJiit . .'X^'iii'tili.^M;? . 214 >>') :.f^- PSftE-JSAir, quick succession^ flashed from the forest^ and a wild and eiulUns^ shout broke out. Down came the fierce Mohawk-^another and another fell — whilst the whole north- ern circle of the forest seemed blazing v/ith continuous flashes. Hushed was thv? voice of the warrior — mute the shrill ton jue of woman — terror-stricken, they clustered together. 'Their rifles, and bows and arrows were in their cabins ; there was a scattering in wild afiright to obtain their arms; one figure alone sprang towards the bound prisoners, tomahawk in hand. > Over the wild peal of battle rose the firm voice of Ahasistari, and the Hurons sprang out from their cover| to the charge, to strike the eflective blow before the Mohawks could rally. Out from the im^* penetrable darkness bounded these dusky figures, rushing on, with wild and exults ing shouts, ta cut ofi* the entrance to the cabins; one^ a lithe and vouthAil ibrm,< shaking fiercely over his head his smallf ^^t OR TUB MIUtOVARY.- 215 :\ '5 ' 8t6el axe^ leaped forward to the prisoQers* Waiook was rushing to the rescue. KifDhba pressed on in his fell purpose. He ;^reaiched the side of the novice/ he wound hia hand in his long hair, he benl hack h|B head, and, glaring fiendishly intp bis face, he seemed to make him die by slow and fearful agony ; then his weapon flashed above him, and came down with a sullen crash, and the form of the poor jiovic6 sank lifeless, supported by the withes that bound him to the stake. Ki- ohba unwound his hand from his locks, and tore the scalp from his mangled brow; then he turned towards the Jesuit. Leloup struggled to byrst his bands, but his iron strength Would not avail him ; in helpless agony he had looked on. At that moment II well known, voice was in his ear ; a single heavy stroke severed the cord that bound him, and the tall Huron, tossing up his arms to heaven, as if glorying in thethought of freedom once again, sprang I ^ i f; 216 ■f fA .«'♦■<. on to the rescue. The fierce Mohawk was already by the side of the priest; his arm was outstretched to aim the fatal blow^ when Leloup, like a wolf upon his prey, bounded on him. Down came the two powerful savages-^the armed and the unarmed — but life and retribution nerved the heart of the Hurbn, and 8tru«:Df his sinews. The weapon of Kiohba was dashed from his grasp ;\s he fell to the earth, and he sought for the knife in his girdle. For a moment it seemed doubtful which would conquer. Over and over, the two rolled swiftly upon the ground. At length the hand of Leloup rested upon the knife of his foe ; in a n^oment more it gleamed in the light, and was buried in the heart of the Mohawk. The strong grasp of Kiohba relaxed, and, casting off his nerveless hand, the Huron arose from the fearful struggle. &o rapid had it been that the last prisoner was just released. »■,#'4--^■*-^^-;=•■^ ^>*^'^e;'^.i5^f-»^^>^.'H,»' -»<,.* u^^^VS-""; 4^-^ . h-% A. i- OR T«fi MlSSIOirARY. 617 Father Land east himseir opon hit knees in prayer, while (he Hurons cadght MP What arms they couh) BdcI, and, headed by Leioup, dashed on towards the' spiM where Ahasistari and his foiiowers were contendiii^g with superior numbers. The btaze of the fires cast a fearful light upbii the battle scene, seeming to double th^ numbers of the combatants^ and to swell their forms into gigantic size. Two poW-^ erful Mohawks were rushing towards their cabinsi for their arriis j the chief of the Hurons intercepted them. The flrSt atter^xpted to close with him, but a singl# blow of the tomahawk stretched him life% less at his feet i the second was upon him before he could recover from his effort^' and aimed a stroke at his head. The Huron warded it skilfully, and they closed. The firtnigfle Was terrific, bttfv^ short, and Ahasistari, as he quitted the dead body of the Mohawk, Ca:H tgilaiice upod 'the sd&ne of battle.' f^%f;:m^^^ ' ' ''^'^^j-'ff^ ■ ■ 15 ■' ' " '''... f>i :'\'i'-' 3t« .1 vl % . . Pefirfiil bad been ihe firiit ofislaughlof lb« Haroo9, They had mel (heir foes; as ia punic^ they broke away towards iheir irip^wains, and, by the fury of theirassault, bad, driven them back to the open space. Here they began to rally and to fight with •ometbing of their accustomed bravery. All Illdioq.. taken by surprise, can seldom ffi^O'er, apd the Mohawks waged an un- equal battle wiih their fierce and deter- mii^ed assailants ; but Tor their superior numbers^ the rout would have been in- ftiiiitaneous and terrific. They began to rally ; the womei^^ and cliildren^ and old men appeared upon the scene, the women bearing the rities, and the bows and ar- rows of the warriors. With renewed en- ergy the Mohawks fought, armed as they were, with tomaha\yks and clubs; scarcely a shut pealed iip.^ |j|e. i^r, a^d^ in the stern battle of man to man, no cry broke forth. Suddenly upon the stillness came the loud blast of a horn from the soutberp Mj. ,j-.^m 'Tr;? r^ir^. OR TH& MISaiONARr. ai» portion of the forest, echoing and re-echo- iqg in the hil(s to the north | thepi aj^rr rjfic shout, and^ high above the reat, the battle ci^y — '•Chaniplain a nous I Ch?in)- ;, Sweeping down the swafd rushed m , band of dark figures that seemed^ in tt## flickering light, of countless numbers, while the loud and deafening blast of the horn still rang op^ and ever, as it paused, the battle cry, " Champlain! ChanH- plainl'' broke out. A^ . The Mohawk warriors stood aghast. Had the dead really arisen? Had the gr^at medicine accepted their challenge, ^lija^? called the mighty warrior from hi» tomb to the rescue? Was it a ghastly tisoop, ?fith,horr|Ji)\^ sounds of unearthly import, th^t came upon them? Their arms dropped nerveless^ and they paused ^^^0^ onslaught — whilst the Hurons renewed their exalting cries, s^nd charged ope more pg| ^hem, Jhe ft?ft,J8^ 228 ■--■'j'^PBREiEi^K,!!^;.;^. 1 gleamed out fiercely^ stirred by t f tssmg breath or wind, and the fitful light dis-' covered to the frightened Mohawks the face and form of a white man bouading forward, and waving his glistening blade ||bove his head.'^ ' : '"' ■ '■"■ ''■■' "''^ ^^ ' vg_^ . ^^ .,; . ^"Charaplain! Champlain! IVfohaiWk dogs !^' shouted the figure in the Iroquois tongue, as he dashed into their midst, striking down the first he met with his long and curved knife. ^' \M •'The dead! the dead! Chattiplain!" exclaimed the paralysed Mohawks, and broke away from the field of battle. Wo^ men and children, old men and warriors, mindful of the scenes of the council, fled wildly off, veiling their eyes from him whom they believed to have arisen from the tomb : still in their ears rang the cry of '^ Champlain ! Champlain!" aiid the relentless Frenchman, with his band, smiting right and l^t, pursued them. Terror lent wings to their speed, and they scattered deep in the forest. oil TfilB MISSIOHAIir. 221 ^^'y^'^^&^t- By the Kdme^ of ineir early yearfi— by the council fii^« where their fathers had sat— 'Updn the turf where, ib childhood's hourd, they had sported— still gathered a stern band of veteran Mohawks. They were few in number — fewer than their foef— r^)^t they were true and ur^yl^ldiog bMr^sr. For a moraent, wh^n the rout began, the battle had ceased^ and the t#q parties now stood gazing at due another in fierce defiance. The MohaWks were armed with no weapons but those of a hand-to-hand fight — and Ahasistari, casting asi(}e his rifle with a noble gene- rosity. Sprang forward to meet his foe upbh an equality of arms. Knife in hand he grappled with a warrior ; his Hurons followed his example, and for a moment there %ks seen a struggling crowd of in- distinguishable figures : here and there, with a convulsive spring, some form would cease its motion, and lie still and siteht as the sod it pressed. The rest still -^$-i--M ■ .X^l:^: :t'hP: i. ■■ ■ 1' *; 222 ^''^'iPERE JEAN. ..,■-. vii..')..,\f'- ^trugg^ted on. At length, froih oilt the m^}^ crept ail unarmed savage, Wobnded, coilililghirhself slowly along the gl-bund as if iti dying agottyV He reached the forner of the lodge, and passing behind Its shadow, sprang quickly to his feet. His eye fell upon the kneeliii^ fgui^eol * Father Laival as he bent him over a dying Huron, and tearing off a portion of his belt, he stole quietly behind him. th a ifnoment he had gagged him— in another he was hurrying him rapidly^ in spite of his resistan'ie, from the spot. The priest attempted to cry out, but it was in vaili; and casting a lingering look towards the group where his friend3 were fighting within reach of him— yet tgnorant of his danger — resigned himself to his fete.'^^^ ^•-^1:^*4^ ':ili}m*^^T^%^ l?«\< ■■/■v > , r #.' ^' ^^ '#iE4>' ■^'- I ■&■!■■> ■ DDUUOOGUD ;;>*.5:;-'' /J;- The trreath of mU Flmen. HASlSt A Rl an* his foes w*4 siragglirif | th4 ctriiiAbftf #as ^tt€% biiij one by one. the Mbtiawks %%li o^ierjiowered or sbiiny una th^ Httfdiis hge. The noise of battle had cea^ie^d ; billy the rtoan Of pain broke the sliU- iK^ of i^h% ^^jemr'p^n^mm^mm- ej and tbef dfeiAd #ere ihcfre besideis them- selves. Their chief Ic^fe^d ih)Und ih t^ain fioT fli«^ Jesuit atid the nbVice. -He ci^i^ oiii tbdr haitiif'fi^ j lhl»y did not ad-^ fWer; They ^rt*!-* rtii village i%^ were fhei^ bul the fteble, ttfd ihtJi^ ■?f»< :Xf^'. ml S24 . isf'i /f^^z/I^EEB JEAl^''^^^ .'.>^-, who were unable to By. They turned in sorrow to the fires of torture. Bound to his stake, supported almost u)>right bv his hands» like life but for the crush- ed and bleeding brow^ was the dead |>ody of the gentle novice. Softly they loosened the cords; softly as if, eiren in death, they "vfould not ruffle the placid slumber of th^slf pat^iind delicate features. They laid him do^n upon the turl^ and SGUf;ht again for the Jesuit. He was not there. Catching up a burning brand, Ahaisistari exa,m.ined the edge of the for- fsf ; suddenly he uttered a low exclama- tion, and darted intp its depths. The glare of the torch, as its flame, tossed wildly in his swift course flitting pant the dark trunks of trees, lopkej, like a red mer i\».'.i ^ ---^ "%^t- teor m its courses '^p ,^^^^^^^f|p> . ! The Hurons silently gathered their clead from the field, and laid them down by the body of the young novice. Then they stood around them solemnly. A few ■I OR 1^11 MIMIONARY*; ;^o ;V^^ momeiits passed thus ID sterQ meJitatioti ; wheiif glidi«g^^ noiselessly into the group, iind pressing aside the rest, two figures a-pprpacfaed close beside the body of ihe novice. A low but joyful exclamieitioii welcomed them* Father Laval heeded it not. The steel axe, whick Ah^i^ law bore, was yet dripping with warm Mpodj it told the Hurons the story of ^1 teiscu^^ Qne by one came back the scattered warriors from the pursuit^ and, Ili;s^t of all, Leloup and Daring Scout. £*^lhet La:vdl knelt beside the body of bis yo^ng companion; tears dimmed his eyes, and the voice of prayer, which arose from Jita lips for the departed spirit, came brokeh wi|h sighs and indistinct with grief. Torphef of blazing pine, placed by the si- Icont Hurons Pt the head and feet of the d^ad, were sending up their bright flame, capped with dark clouds of sn)oke — fit em- blem ij, ^%i . '\ > ;!;■ .,"■'■ t ■ ■■■ bftWa c)f his dea£ Sf^ f the gocM \Asm gown is wrapt in sorrow ! ihe Word* bf iha chief wduld disturb his spirit* The braves will bury their brothers !'* "Huron, fani biit^ tude^ fbr^st^r. 1 have lived in the woods till I atil Uk6 th^ Indian rather than tny dWn bldod ciliji irate 9i .;«; if. .u"v:.,::^,>j" "Good!^' said the chief/ nodding his approvingly ; " Daring Scotit is ih^ brother of the Hurons!" ■^^-^■•i«-*^'^-i:^^ff-#y(#g. *^ Chief," continued Pierre, " the youth "mist be buried like a Christi^ii White :>; ** The Hurons ^re Christians," said iffie- Indian slowlyi'^^^':'M-^:i-.; '■^^,<:i^-.i^^^^.J^^ I^True," replied the scoutj "your brothers must not be tui^ned into the earth like th^ heathen Mohawk!" The Indian assented, and thfe scout s^onttnued : " We Hitlst burytherh side by side with the youth t" ^'\'^-'''^¥'y^M0M^ -^ ■ v^.-' . * " Huron and pale face— all th^ same in t* T', m %^^iil# J«Ai«ii X lsH"^l v:. :,'y.J the ground — all the same before God!" eaid the chief earnestly ..^1^ r ''Not the same here on tbip f^arth ^though!'' said the scout» clioging io the idea of the superiority of his race. ^# '^No? Indian tell truth! Indian don't steal; he lovesGod aiad prays to him; what more pale face?" - «^ /^i^^**K^^^ For a moment the scout was silent jil length he said : " True, Huron, but the pale face is richer and stronger ; he builds splendid cities, makes 6ne houses, wears rich clothes, drinks costly wines." The scout ceased as he caught the meaning glance of the Huron's eye. But that look passed away in a moment, and Ahasistari said solemnly' : ^- • v*^r^#^T-> ;r- M^^H^j^'i^r "What good all that— there and thereP^ as he pointed Im-i^i^arth, and then lo the sky. The scout was silent, and the chief, turning away, said : ** Let us go!'' , J^JYes, it is time to dig their graves;" and the two entered the forest. - *'S)i,]^'»i *?., -<.^/ OR THE MlSSl^J^ARY. M 2S® .■s.'i,!^/(h\ ^^: j^ •* it shallbe," cvaid Aha«8tani^* whem the foot or the Mohawk shall not tread upon them.^* '<^" ■^-■^i^^ ir^^^^^'- '^i^-^^^-' ■ i Selecting a suitable spot, the Huron and the Prenchmati ttirbed up the sod with their hatchets, and, in a short time, had scooped a resting place for the deaid. Then th^y retraced their steps to the vil- lage, and joined the group. Rude biers were made of the branches of trees strewed With the softest foliage, that the lifeles^;^ corpse might repose gently there. In one^ of jthe lodges had been found the sacks in which, slung upon their shoulders, ther* missionaries carried their vestments and the sacred vessels in their journeys through'^ the boundless forests.' ^'^'^ ■^^.m^^^^'^m^r^^^^^ ^: III his white surplicethey robed the gentle novice ; in that pure garment in which he had so often served at the holy sacrifice they wrapped him lor the^6te*ii burial Hisi ikiids were meekly crossed upon his breast. - 'Jm^i n ■';/:* C^i*'; ■■^^■k^- ■ vf'in Tbf^y raised, htm sadly J and laid him on his bier ; ihey lifted it and strode forward. At that instant a slight female figure pierced through the group, and gazed for a aioment on the face of the dead. Then she placed a wreath of wild flowers upon his broWy and, startiog away, the wail of the Indian girl arose for the departed. ^^^f .^.Bearing torches in their hands, the pro- cession wound solemnly into the forest, and paused beside the new made grave. Slowly and carefully they laid him in his silent resting place, while the light of the torches beamed upon his angelic face, and, reflected from the glowing colors of the wild flowers on his brow, his cheek seemed to bloom with a tinge of life. He had passed into death suddenly, in the midst of prayer; its heavenly radiance still hovered around the chiselled features. Beautiful in death, crowned with the wreath of flowers, and robed in ur spotted white, the young martyr lay, a halo of :'Un,-Wi ^I4>ji^ifm;mi,^ mi r.^^-^^p: OR THK MISSIOllARr. I /■ *•*■■ unearthly glory seeming to the wrapt be- .bolders already to glow around his brow. By the side of the gentle novice ibey stretched the scarred forms of the two Huron warriors. In silence their brothers laid them down to mingle their dust with of another race, yet one in faiths and ie, itnd charity ; one by the bond of that church which gathers alike all souls ^imriihin her fold* ' ..-i' ^, *,* ^, f^;,iU'. 'M^ici'-^^ ?• De profundisclamavi ad te, Domibd^*' arose in the deep voice of the priest, and Ifhe Hurons responded, ^^v j > ^>?^t^^ %:' ^t- Oi liow solemn was the burial cere- |taony there, in the hour of midnight, by Hie wild ^ieamof torches, under the forest trees, wiih the dusky forms of the Hurons ■ ft . group^ around the grave^^C;#w* • rfH'K' It w^s done. IJpon the cold bosom of the dead fell the clodded earth, which was 3#'be the dwelling place and home of the body until its mouldering dust should |t|[illgle witb^i^ JQarefiilly they replaced -/. rt- i*' k 232 . 1 1"- PERE jEAir; r*^ each sod^ and/ above the Whole, strewed the fallen leaves again so skilfully that it might never more be found save by those who now looked upon it. As they fin- ished, a figure flitted from the spot; the Indian maiden had been gazing on the scene. In silence they wended their way back to the village, Ahasistari and Leloup in the roar, coveving every footstep, and removing every trace of their passage. When they hr d reached the centre of the village, the chief addressed the priest : "Father, there is little time to spare j the routed Mohawks may reach the near- eni villages of their tribe by daybreak, and we have many days' march before us !" ** I am ready, my son," said the Jeitiit sadly, for the death of his young com- panion weighed heavily upon himT '^As he spoke. Morning Flower stood before him, and, ih a low tone, mentioned the iname of Kiskepila, and pointed to his Ms^* The Jesuit fiillowed her thither, „^v?0i^i:*<5^^.:jC:rt^i^'. ,.'<>r OR THB MISSIONARY. 233 while the Hotons mRde their preparations for departure; gatheribg all the arms at the village, and destroying (hem, and loading themselves with a supply of corn for t^^ march. Father Laval found the young Indian stretched upon his couch, hjs face covered ^ith his hands, .t ^,i ^m, *'My son/' he said, "be not cast down!" The Indian looked up proudly; but the glow of spirit passed in ^ moment from his cheek, and he said : * vVt t'^g*^ "The home of Kiskepila is destroyed; his people are slain, and he must lie upon his bed helpless as a woman! Bid the Hurons come; Kiskepila would die!" ^,. At this moment Ahasistari entered, and Stood behind the Jesuit ; all was ready for departure, and time was pressing; but he waited patiently till Father Laval should conclude his conversjation. As soon as the Mohawk saw h[m, he raised himself, and,' with a look of proud defiance, said : ** Kiskepila »s,^he young eagle of his 16 :'^ >• • . ' f1 %M i'^' ..v.- -I*. S34 ■:•! \: imkVi tribe! the IriQmph of the Huron is but little without his sculp.*' i!;^#5^# * ^^'' Ahasistari did not move; but the Jesuit replied : " My son^ do not entertain ^ucfa thoughts ; the Huron does not desire to shed your blood. It is our sineerest wish to be your friends, and the friends of all men rather than their foes.'' The Huron 'chief assented. ,, -I^^^^. i After a pause, the Mohawk continued : *^ My people are routed y but they fled, not from the living, but from the dead ! The biackgown called the great white warrior from the spirit land to rescue bim."-^ ^^; Father Laval listened in wonder, and replied : ^* My son, this is some wild mistate.^* ■- • -^ - ■,..■- hf§^K "Champlain!" said the other; •*Kis- kepila heard the cry, and saw the war- riors of his tribe turn like women from the face of the white^ man. Who could fight the dead Vl^,j-, , > vv^fSif' ''' '''^^W In a moment, the whole matter becam 4i^f;ai 4. *A*,.*Ci'" #■ OR THS MISSIONARY. 3.i--ii- .is!.. tft •..i't; iapparent to the mind of the Jesuit. The division of opinion in the village, in regard to the policy of condemning so great a, medicine as they considered Father Laval, had made the taunt of Kiohba remem- bered; and, when they heard the cry "ChamplainJ?V#nd saw the assault led on by a white man, they believed that the challenge of Kiohba had been accepted, and that the great Frenchman had arisen from the tomb to the rescue. V/hilst the priest was endeavoring to explain this to the Mohawk, Ahasistari left the lodge, and in a few moments returned with Pierre^ ."L'Espion Hardi," he said. The Biohawk looked upon the scout for a mo- ment ; then hiding his head in his h>ands^ remained in imperturbable silence. ''Yes! L^Espion Hardi," said the scout, " that's the name the Hurons call me, and, if I had not been delayed in the swamp ground in getting to my station according to the plan of the chief; or, iS^ .!*,f^lS "M m V. ■"/*" 236 ■••^^'^'A tEHIi JEAK/ f^' . ; .'"-■•■/' v.> . ..-ifej. he had held his fire a little er until i I %a?e the signal^ not a Mohawk would have escaped.^' - > ■ *•' -^^^ '•^■■' ■«•■ " i -^^^yfii^ [M^-')''^' • " It is well," said the chi^f. **^ But L'Espion Hardi was uelayed in the forest too. 99 .4^7 ;C:,vi IS 'i""^ (i Ah, your Huron nearly *missed the trkiL but we came in time.'^ v ;^- ^ " Yes. Ahasistari was about to fulfil his oath, and go to die with his father at the torture fire, when the sounds of the coming braves struck upon his ear.^^^ ^ Father Laval addressed a few tend words to the Mohawk, and left the lodge* The Hurons bound all those who were left at the village ; and, having heaped a mass of fuel upon the fires to impress any returning stragglers with the idea that a strong force was still there, leaving a broad trail to the edge of the forest on the south, then doubling and striking into its depth towards the northeast, hastened rapidly on their return. . f f^^^Lfe .mA'-^t x> v^: •;^>'*.: OR THE MlSSIONARr. .ir: ■ m^^"'"- fe^- The time which must elapse before any ursuit could leiria would enable them escape, provided Father Laval held out. The party under Watook had, in ^'^&H^ ^i2i^^f|;Sa^f*i ■w,**-^*, !0 toooo.oo.cTi , .—^v — '^. ^. CHAPTER Xn. ,^^ ~PQDQQQQ , ♦ !> V . ri.'iuv ^-jf^v^i 3^c Concltision. f*'Vj- >^n'#^ •i'rfi EA/IS passed. Twice had the suows of water falleo ; twice the blossoms of spring had bbomed : summer was ii|)oa the land; and the fields aKi4 waters laughed in glad sunshine. ''''^^^. It was at the close of day that a group of idlers^ resting upon the quay at due- bee^ gazed out listlessly upon the waters, observing the motions of the boats pass- ing to and from the few vessels lying in the river. Occasionally a canoe^ paddled by Indians^ would shoot out from the shore^ and pass gracefully along the waters^ as its occupants bent their course ..tf''*^(^.) I-.' .?,►>., ^...y,,;,. .|rSU JBAV. i*'-mj. 239 ■^'?^ towards their settlementd ; for the Christian Indians had formed themselvies into coh^ mtmities^ and lived around their charchdr and their priests — the flock around the shepherd^— within the borders of the pro- v:ince«-:^#''?'t:- *^- •■■"^*^ ^•''¥r*v.^>^ r ■ VI. ' '<".■/■■:. ■ 4^*'!;-: f€ The Indians are returning to their nbtnes/' said one of the group. **I thought they would have remained in town to-night; to-morrow is the festival of the Assumption." . , , ,, -^^m.- t" True," said another; ^*but th^y are i^eturning to celebrate it at their own vil- lageS.'*%' *v^ ^■i:'-H-rr^\,'^''*f' -xJ r ■ ''•»• -:.i:.>'»-^^-*-.^^^, / l^^'Tfh^y are very pious and devout," dittintied the first. " Their example is enough to shame the better instructed white*"- ■■^^■^'^'^^''^^•'^' ^-■''■^"" '' " '"' '"^"^^v^ ■ ■ * ** Better instructed)!" said the second speaker with a laugh ; " but that depends u|>on the sense in which you use the phrase. They a^^ unsophisticated, it is ^ue; and their pastors, the Jesuits, have » ;h- — . ■■■♦• S^ ' '•.Vi' 4 m ;*^^-^^yP»RE JCAK^ •,.'..1.1?':.., succeeded in preserving them from the contamination which so often follows vo^ the patr >f the white man in his contact with the Indians. They are untaught i|i the world's learnings perhaps^ and under- value it; but I warrant thee, neighbor j, they will repeat the Pater and the Ave, and tlbie creed and the decalogue, with thee, and explain them too, as well ^s thou canst ; and whet is beuer stilly neigb^ bor, they practise what they have learned ; a thing which you and I, and many more of the ' better instructed,' sometimes do not consider as necessary as we ought." *^^es, I admit they are good anci prac- tical Christians--rt hanks to the zeal and energy and purity of life of their pastors," *^ Is it not admirable, this courage and daring of the Jesuits, that led them into the forest to bring these wandererif to Go4|f ^^Tbeyt^ll me," s^id another, "that in France there are som^ ^hq begin to t»A against the order as proud, intriguing seeking after wealth and power," w '-, '»•.»: /'^%, Xi d a a V ! t -■* JV. 1 '.^ m the >ws ip 'ontact ght ip uader^ ghhorj, B Ave, ^twith (Tell ^s neigh- arned; ^ more n€s do ght.'^H I prac- al and stors," ^e and Qto the "that gin to iguing ;.;,!;;.: •'/^'- ■,-;^;'.ii.i;..--'7v.: .1 j7i . ■'#/"•.:;.. ,ilT.« •'v- '^f. '/ OE Tm MISSIONARY. " Oh, doubtless ! Yes, I have heard so, neighbor. They seek wealth in strange plaees; here in the forest, in China, in England on the scaffold. Yes, it is the weakh of heaven they are seeking ! Ah, it would be a glorious thing to place one of these silken-robed revilers by the side of an humble Jesuit in the forest, beyond 4ttte great lakes, among the wild Indians, who have never yet seen the face of a white man. Give them both staff and ^#^i and a wooden cross — -" 4 f^ •^^li ##* Aye, or bind them both to the smke, with the savage Iroquois around them,' feSring their flesh and . torturing them to death, as I have seen the Jesuit die, with if^ prayer upon his lips" — said a voice abruptly, and the speaker rose from a seat whitsh he had occupied near the party, ^ut concealed from them by some bales of goods, and turned his ^teps towards the u^^n. A pause for a moment ensued. ^* Who is thi^t man V^ asked one of the ■k:/^-' -i-?;; .J« group. Ml,, -w» * -4> *^^' ~<»" ,M-1.^ ■:'-\ 'U:<.. 242 sfw riEB jzkn^r W ^c^ ;•/.» ^^' Ah, that is UEtpim HariiP^ tM Ae defender of the Jesuits, whose name was PauK .ff I ha^re heard it said that he was out some years ago with a prrty of HuronSj who endeavored to rescue two missionaries from the Mohawks. It is a sad taie ; but it so often happens thus in this v/ild land, that one can scarcely recall' all the facts tc mind. Yes, one they saved. Father Jean Laval; the othor, a novice, was already dead at the torture fire when they became master of the village. The Daring Scout is right; bind the Jesuit and his reviler to the stake, and see who will die with the sweetest conscience and the most placid smile — see whose soul will best befit a martyr. Ah I it is the hour of death which proves the value of the past life — ^which tries its motives, and explains and illustrates them. That is the hour when cunning is of no avail; when wron|; will weigh upon the consdence, and :Ak-. .-t f r-l :i' ••< OR TBK HimOHAKT. 243 'm wring out the cry of horror from the soul. The death of one Jesuit is worth the whole lives of a thousand of their re viiers. The dying of the one, and the living of the other, alike, are irresistible arguments in behalf of the assailed and the reviled.* ♦^The blood-prints of their martyrs have already rendered holy the borders of new France, and sanciiOed and dedicated to God the great valley beyond the western lakes. They have booglit it with their toils and sufierings ! " .^ . v*.. iJ#And this UEspitm Hardin-l have never seen him before — does he come often to duebec 7^^ V y-^:^ s-h,* f|l^ * Compare the dying scene of the Jesuit mar- tjr m China, in Japan, amongst the Mohawks, or with Abenakis — even upon the scaffold in the realm of Britain— suffering in the dissemination of religion, in the teaching of morality, with the life ofan enemy of theirs, such as Sue, spent in sowing broadcast the seed of immorality and licentiousness, in spreading infidelity, in assail- ihg Christianity, and battening upon sin and sorrow. Ah^ it is glorious to have mch enemies ; they are their own refutation, their own condem- ditton, with all rational Chrittians. r ^ . it. ^^^^^ ;.^lder, and the hand of time had already scattered a few white hairs among her l^hick 'locks. At the bow of each canoe i l^as fastened a green branch, the Indian symbol of ji we^pd amity* The y^uag -J ': ,B^' \ • 246 warrior paused for a moment to gaze upon the p^rowing city^ and then bending again to kis paddle^ sent the light bark on more fleetly. The evening sun was still casting his glory upon the waters^ when the bow of the first canoe grated on the sand of the quay below the lookers-on« The Indian warrior leaped ashore^ and his companion drew the light bark upon the beach. In another moment the whole party stood together. Then the Christian Indian taking the lead, at a quick pace turned towards the town« It was too common a sight in Cluebec to attract any extraordinary attention, and the party passed on unheeded. The young brave of the eagle feathers trod on in silence, scarce deigning to notice what to him must have been wondrous wealth and opulence, but r^ardless of all around he followed in the lead of his guide. At length the Christian Indian, a Huron, paused before a house of some size^ and after ''^i,'Mi^% ;*<«■ h-'i.. OB THB MISSIOirART* 247 looking^ about, as if to Yicognise the land- marks of the place, advanced to the door and knocked. In a few moments it was openec*i'y»-5i'-' w^;, '■"'i"" ^'^I'^.w' r^, ^ ■ ^^.v ♦»'•■ "v***' ''.« '^A Huron captite from the Mohawks/' he said to the janitor, ''would ee his father of the blackgown." The door was cast open^ and they entered. After (i little delay the superior came to them*i^"4i .u'' My son, what is it that you wish ? ' he said to the Huron/ - ' '^^r* #l4f My father,'^ he replied, pointing tc the young brave, " a Mohawk neophyte ^' . Long did the good old Jesuit gaze upon the powerful young Mohawk, one of that terrible race of Iroquois who bad hith- erto resisted the efforts of the mk^ionary, and now heaven had sent one to his door (Remanding admission to tb? church. ''Yes; there is but one,'^ he said, speaking half aloud, " who can speak the Mohawk and Huron tongue ; and though in ill health, he is full of zeal. Stay,'V 4. t 248 :# PERU JEAH^ ^'. ". ' he continued aloud^ ^^ my children. I will send one to you who can speak your own language,'^ smd left the room. ' The Mohawk remained cold and imper- turbable, evincing no curiosity as to ^hat had been said, or anxiety for the result, though h6 hid closely watched the face of the speaker. The females of the parly were not as impassive, but examined with wonder the simple decorations of the reception-room, looking with astonish- ment upon the few plain pictures which adorned the walls. At ^^ngth a step was heard without; and, through the opened door, entered a Jesuit. His face was averted as he came in, but when be had closed the door he advanced towards them. It was Father Laval. His coun- tenance was very pale and attenuated, and his hair was gray : for the toils of a few such years as his had been will touch with white as surely as the placid flow of many. Suddenly the impassive face of the Mo- Cff^t, .J:f , hawk warrior lit up with a bright smile j a low exclamation of surprise broke from his lips, and he stepped forward to a spot where, from a window, the light fell full upon his manly form, and said : . 4i^ ! ^* Blackgown ! — Kiskepila ! — Morning Fl0Werl...<4-,r-4 ^ -• :•' .:.:al.^u..-.:^.^ The Jesuit clasped his hands, and looked towards heaven, for the memory of sad scenes came over his soul ; but in a moment the cloud passed, and joyously he stretched out his hands : *^ " Welcome, Young Eagle I Welcomef, gentle maiden. Sad were the scenes in which we parted ; joyful is this hour in which you come back to me^^ like the fruit of my captivity.'^ i ^ .1 k 1 , The Indian maiden wept as she took the hand of the priest, and she said : " In spring-time and in sun^mer, Morning- Flower has strewed fresh flowers over the grave of the young pale-face; and she has prayed there that the God of the pale- 17 W'^^ . > >'-3«iK'- 1 1 1 H ~ ^B 1 If 250 »■'»■. .f" face would hear her. She has said^ oflen ^■^-often: "Mary! Mary !"-.i>: >?'-;^^; i " And heaven has heard your prayer!'^ exclaimed the priest* * t*^^^ " Kiskepila has thought many timi^s upon the word? of the blackgown,*' said the young Mohawk ; and pointing to the Huron captive, he continued : " Kiske- pila look the Huron captive; and he told him over and over the leaching of the good father* that he might not forget it The Mohawks are at war with the French ; but the Mohawk brave has come hither to be bapuzed« Kiodego has gone to the spirit-land, and Kiskepila is a chief in his village. Morning Flower often talked oftheteachingoftheblackgown, and would se*»k thefatherof the pale face. She has come with the mother of Kiskepila.'' Father Laval learned that the Indian maiden, cherishing his instructions in her memory, and gaining further know- ledge from the Huron captive, had W- ■,.l±.,}.^... ^ .0^^^^ 251 fused to become the wife of the chief, ex- cept through the Christian sacrament: and to be received into the church the party had undertaken the long journey to Cluebec. Kiskepila informed the priest that, after the surprise at the village and the departure of the victors, the Mohawks had not reassembled until late the next day ; that then a strong party, with rein- forcements from the other villages, had set out ia pursuit, but that after an inef- fectual €hase had returned, having lost the trail upon the banks of a stream of water that flowed into the St. Lawrence; that he had explained away to them the cause of their panic, and had ever after maintained an ascendency among them, and led them on as their favorite war chief. ^-Father Laval then began to question the *wo neophytes upon the subject of re- ligion. He found their dispositions good, and their instruction, so far as it had gone, solid and well understood. And after .1^1 ^f\''if^-i%0iSi .a "i(B.. . : /■■•».».* 'i/ Jl..^^:' i^4l^^>\ 253 :'itj>^''-*>' C-s consaltiDg with his superior, determined that they should be baptized on the mor* to^f as ua offering to God^ through the Virgin^ )i^ ihe feast of the AssumptioD, and as a dedication of the nation of the Iroquois to Christ under her invocation. Accordingly he placed the two females uhder the protection of the nuns of the Ursuline convent^ with directions that the maiden should be further instructed and prepared^ by means of an interpreter, for the reception of baptism and the sacra- ment of penance. In their own house Kis- kepila and his two companions were shel- tered — Father Laval that same evening ftttending the necessary preparations on the part of the young chief. With the dawn of morning rang out the joyous peals of the church bells for the festival of the Assumption. The city was thronged 5 many of the colonists from the country had assembled to celebrate the festival in the capital. Crowds of V'' •3kl!it;:v:*:i-TtJSa«>i^ ' '■ -'f^''''*.*'1 ^''■^■'- v.'^yn:, ■if '&' 4" OR THC MISSIONARY. 253 ifltttgeif^ and Indians filled the streets; l^he military, in all the pomp and cir- cumstance of war, were drawn out in long array, preparatory to marching to the cathedral to assist at the holy sacri- fice. At length the pealing bells again rang out, the solemn chant arose in the holy temple, the deep- toned organ swelled up its lengthened aisles. All duebec had gathered there, for the rumor had gone forth that an interesting ceremony was to be performed at the conclusion of the bishop's solemn mass. The hour came. Kneeling at the baptistery, before the sa- cred font, were two figures, an Indian warrior and a female. Over the head of* the latter was thrown a light veil of muslin, through which her jet black hair showed its glossy hue. She was clothed in a neat dress of spotless white. Beyond them knelt a crowd of mingled colonists and natives. Beside the sacred font stood up the Jesuit, Father Laval enrobed, and \ i'r: 1% •?; 254 ■»(*>• .- : ^^ • : V, V'- ' PERE JEAN^ ■m- v:K holding his missal in his hands. On eiiber side were acolytes, with lighted iapers ijj their hand?. The ceremony proceeded ; it was finished ; and with extended laiidii ch& priest bestowed upon them lis bt?ssing* The neophytes aiose. li solemn proces- sion they moved towards the alrnr. The priest entered within the sanotuary, nrA they stood before him. He joined theii^ hand.^ j he placed the sacred ring upon the finger of the maiden ; he uttered the final b!*^s; ing of the church upon those who worihily enter into the holy bonds of matrimony, and the affectiiig* scene was ended. Tears gathered in rhe eyes of Blather Laval as he uttered the last prayer. Two years ago that very day, upon the feast of the Assumption, he had run the gauntlet in the villages of the ^ Mohawk. These two young souls were 'now before him, the first fruits of his toils and sufferings, through the merits of Christ, and he returned thanks to God for his goodness in sending him so abun- dant consolation. At this moment a Hu- ron pressed through the kneeling crowd, advanced towards the Mohawk, and stretching out his hands, exclaimed : ^^^ "Kiskepila! there has been v^ar be- tween thy people and my people. Let '■*ISfa J*ities H:jr hiS holvJ.cfeiuNjti. ! "' " Gfjtl I i* ihm^]} t 1k^ for *iby: indr^Jhk/ good nes^ to thy un^prthv.SQrv.q^nt.'V.e^i- claimed, tlJe Jtefe\iU 5as,he,d^aned :fr©0* ' the chWch wftfra h^ppy'4\^arC : •"^Tho^u** didst turn my steps from the beaten path to those who had already heard thy Gos- « ■fS^^ ff&i; 'Ci^i-l. J atibj.4i^;' .i^fr^'-|^::\-^^^ 256 '^^^^'f XRB JSAK, 1 jf-^' 'X- pel, to tread in sorrow and captivity the way to the darkened heathen ; and thou didst there make me plant in sadness and suffering the seed which has this day, through thy grace, borne fruit in peace and joy. Thou guidest oui; steps and di- rectest our energies. Truly out of evil thou dost bring forth good." • * * '^. In that year a solemn treaty of peace was formed between the French and the Iroquois, and a mission was founded in the Mohawk valley. And although in- terrupted by outbreaks of the savages, and interrupted by wars, it constantly revived, until at a period of ten years later, "there, in the heart of New York, the solemn services of the Roman Catholic church were chanted as securely as in any part of Christendom.''* *Bancrofl iii, page 113. ; ■■If ' f - ! 'f.LtLfJ't ^i»'< ( »i04 j,;f- * I K i %v., 't i- .^-^^'J):: m '':-^'Mf. r. 4« ■^:mm. ■>^ t ^ ^-tt ■' .t? "P^^:f;4,'^i^^- ^J- H I " ■■ a.. J^. 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