IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) V / O {/ S^^^i^ f/. ^ 1.0 I.I 1.25 Ui4|2.8 6" 122. 1.8 U 111.6 V] 7 Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WIST MAIN STRUT WIBSTIR, NY. MSUO (716) S72-4S03 *, '€ro CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques The Institute has attempted to obtain the best original copy available for filming. Features of this copy which may be bibliographically unique, which may alter any of the images in the reproduction, or which may significantly change the usual method of filming, are checked bnlow. D D D D n n □ Coloured covers/ Couverture de couleur I I Covers damaged/ Couverture endommagde Covers restored and/or laminated/ Couverture restaurde et/ou pellicul6e n Cover title missing/ Le titre de couverture manque I I Coloured maps/ Cartes g^ographiques en couleur Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/ Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire) Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur Bound with other material/ Relid avec d'autres documents Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion along interior margin/ Lareliure serr^e peut causer de I'ombre ou de la distortion le long de la marge int6rieure Blank leaves added during restoration may appear within the text. Whenever possible, these have been omitted from filming/ II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajoutdes lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte, mais, lorsque cela 6tait possible, ces pages n'ont pas 6t6 filmdes. Additional comments:/ Commentaires suppl4mentaires; L'institut a microfilm^ le meilleur exemplaire qu'il lui a 6t6 possible de se procurer. Les details de cet exemplaire qui sont peut-dtre uniques du point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une modification dans la m^thode normale de filmage sont indiquds ci-dessous. D D D D v/ n This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/ Ce document est film6 au taux de reduction indiqu6 ci-dessous. Coloured pages/ Pages de couleur Pages damaged/ Pages endommag^es Pages restored and/or laminated/ Pages restaur6es et/ou pelliculdes Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ Pages ddcolor^es, tachetdes ou piqu^es Pages detached/ Pages ddtachdes Showthrough/ Transparence I I Quality of print varies/ Quality in^gale de I'impression Includes supplementary material/ Comprend du materiel suppl^mentaire Only edition available/ Seule Edition disponible Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to ensure the best possible image/ Les pages totalernent ou partiellement obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure, etc., ont 616 filmdes d nouveau de faqon d obtenir la meilleure image possible. 10X 14X 18X 22X 26X 30X / 12X 16X 20X 24X 28X 32X )laire »s details ques du nt modifier Kiger une ie filmage The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks to the generosity of: National Library of Canada The images appearing here are the best quality possible considering the condition and legibility of the original copy and in keeping with the filming contract specifications. L'exemplaire filmd fut reproduit grdce d la g6n6rosit6 de: Bibliothdque nationale du Canada Les images suivantes ont 6X6 .eproduites avec Ie plus grand soin, compts tenu de la condition et de la nettet6 de l'exemplaire film6, et en conformity avec les conditions du contrat de filmage. id/ qu6es Original copies in prirtted paper covers are filmed beginning with the front cover and ending on the last page with a printed or illustrated impres- sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All other original copies are filmed beginning on the first page with a printed or illustrated impres- sion, and ending on the last page with a printed or illustrated impression. Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en papier est imprimde sont film6s en commenpant par Ie premier plat et en terminant soit par la dernidre page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration, soit par Ie second plat, selon Ie cas. Tous les autres exemplaires originaux sont filmds en commenpant par la premidre page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par la dernidre page qui comporte une telle empreinte. The last recorded frame on each microfiche shall contain the symbol —^(meaning "CON- TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END"), whichever applies. Un des symboles suivants apparattra sur la dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon Ie cas: Ie symbole — ^ signifie "A SUIVRE", Ie symbole V signifie "FIN". taire Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to he entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, le?t to right and top to bottom, as many frames &:• required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre film<6s i des taux de reduction diffdrents. Lorsque Ie document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clichd, il est filmd & partir de Tangle supdrieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant Ie nombre d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. I by errata med to nent une pelure, fapon d a. 1 2 3 32X 1 2 3 4 5 6 M-: i • ,/7^t^^ - /^. /X ROSCOE'S SERIES. m m * ' ,.» OTTAWA H, THE LAST CHIEF or THE RED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. ^ l^omanct. ■' We are what suns, and winds, and waters make us ; The mountains are our Rponsors, and the rills Fashion and win their nurslinK with their smiles." — Landor. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS. .« LONDON: PiTBLISnED BY G. SLATER, '2.W, STHAXD, AND BOLD IIT Al.t, HnOKSKLI.IRH. m ■I .JJS i CHAPTER I. " Why should calamity be full of words t" RiCIIABD III. More than five generations of men have arisen, and gone down to the tomb, since the Red Indians,*who were formerly spread over the greater part of Newfoundland, ceased to maintain their sovereignty over any portion of that extensive island. If any of the tribe still exist, they probably inhabit that narrow country which forms the northern arm of the island, and is • Why espcclully thus entitled, sec the Prefiicc. washed by the Atlantic on the east, and divided from the main land by the strait of Belle-Isle on the north west. Here, at least, they dwelt in villages, long after the diminution of their numbers, and the loss of their ancient hunting grounds. They kept the fastnesses of the mountains during the summer; but in the autumn, when the deer and other animals, upon which they subsisted, migrated towards the south, they descended to the coast, where they lived chiefly on the fiesh of seals, sea cows, and whales of the smaller species that frequent these shores. ' OTT.WV \II, THE LAST CIlIKt' OF At tliitt jicrioilot'tlu ir liistdry, at which wo sliall iii!rn(hi('(' the siirviviiiL;- I'hict's of this ill-t'iitcd p('oj)li', and the priiiciiial fiotors in the scciU's iiF this niirrali\(', the tribe ^\as in the dcciiiie of its strt'iii^th. The warlike nations wliich tlii'n inhabited the coast of Labrador, and tlie more southern parts (jf thi? ishmd, had held iutcre-tli, and the Miemacs, who, thongli not natives of the island, had got possession of its southerri districts, aided hj .he English and 7'rench fishermen, Avho had hunted them, and destroyed them, more wantonly than they W(.)nld have pursued and destroyed the most savage beasts. They, nevertheless, still lived under the govornuient of the descendants of their ancient chiefs, sub- ject to laws, W'hicli were not arbitrarily framed, nor adopted without tiie sanction of a deliberative council. And if their statutes were few in ninnber, they were not ditrumlt to interpret. And as the reward of mcfitorious actions, and the punishment of every breach of the laws, were loft to the chiefs, whose indepen- dence rendered thorn superior to the commission of inju.stice, the peopli' lived under a degree of subordination, Avhich answered all the ends of government, with a wild, and, in f:oin<' degree, an errant tribe. They still dwelt in villages, some of the larger of which I'on.ited upward, (sf a hundreds warriors, while Orluwee, which was the principal of these, and (he present residence of their chief, possessed more than donble that ninnber of the chosen spirits of tlie tribe. The wigwams of Ortawee, were, as is usual with tlie Indians, irregnlarly placed among the stunted sprnces and junipers, anil were for the mo;'t part of eijual dimensions, and ea'^h t(>nantod by a single i'amily. The only one of tfiese that \\t\r, dis- tinguished from the rest, was that of the chief. It was conspicuou'-, from its being placed in the centre, and from somewhat more <'are having been bestowed upon its strncture; while the curtain, -liich served for a door, was of bear-skin, instead of deer-skin, the common material in use for that put-pose. The external tovering of the wigwams was of birch bark, in sheets extended bv a frame of poles, usually spread to a suf- ficient width at the bottomwto form a circle of about twi'lve or fourteen feet in diameter, and meeting at the top, which was left open for tlu! purpose of letting out the smoke, and admitting the light when the curtain was down. The chief's dwelling, was, however, large enough to contain five and twenty or thirty warriors, s"ated around a fire in till! centre. Several beams ^vere placed across (he intel'ior, aboitt seven feet from the ground; and frOin these hung dried fish and birds; while from the centre beam ^vas suspended a vessel of birch rind, in which they boiled water and cooked their food. The walls were deco- rated with their various weapons of war and the chase; and upon each side (jf the door-way Mere placed pil(>s of mats (jf fur, one of wdiich, every warrior that entered, was entitled to take possession and apply to his temporary use. The ground was covered with spruce boughs, neatly spread; atid each warrior placed his mat and seatetl himself the nearer or further froii' the chief, according to his age, and without respect to kiitdred, the eldest prosei t being beside the chief on the right, an i the next in seniority the nearest on tb loft. l3iit o\ ery one, at all times, gave place when any other entered (hat was more aged than himself. And thus w as precedency and respect never a matter of diftienlty, or the source of ill- will, among this simple people. There was, besides these dwellings, however, one? remarkable structure in the capital, that was of sutticient dimensions to contain nearly the whole of the war- riors of Ortawee, and was made use of when they met to deliberate upon such extraordinary occasions as that tipon which we shall presently see them as- sembled, when we shall have the oppor- lunily of making more particular mention of their sole initional edifice. It had been erected by the warriors, after llu^ destruction of their former capi- tal village by the sanu' constant enemies whose vengt'ance they now deplored, and sinc(( the territory of' the tribe had been circumscribed within its present narrow boundary. The precigo era at which the surviving warriors of the red t ribe come under our im h;. $ noti( hS? scon( * f hnii* By 1^ jostowt'd upon •urtiiin, -liiuh uf boiir-skiu, minon matorial f the wifjwams ts extended by proud to a sut- iiin^to form a fourteen feet in the top, whk'li post! of letting iUing the light n. was, however, ive and twenty I around a lire ms ^ver<' placed seven feet from lose hung dried 'om the centre vessel of birch iled water and viills were deco- venpons of ^var each side of tho^ iles of mats of •y warrior that take possession )rary use. The spruce boughs, warrior placed If the nearer or iieeording to his to kindred, the de tht> chief on in seniority the e\ ery one, at all y other entered himself. And respect never a le source of iU- jople. ;hese dwellings, structure in the lient dimensions >lc of the war- made use of rate upon such as that upon see them as- [have the oppor- lietdav mention the warriors, ItMr former capi- Imstant enemies |w deplored, and tribe had been (present narrow [h the surviving Lomc under our THE RED INDLtNS OF NEWFOLXDr.AMJ. 3 notice, was marked by the most rutiiless scones of savage massacre, on the part of their enemies, that ever disgraced the most barbarous hordes of the human spe- cies. The year preceding that in wliich the narrative; properly commences, the Red Indians had attacked the villages of the Miemacs, and been repulsed with great slaughter; and in their turn, they were now attacked, and experienced a erue' retaliation. The fell purpose of the Miemacs was accomplished by means of nn artful snare into which they had drawn their enemies. By the success of the stratagem which tliey had practised, they had been onal)Ie(l to attack the capital of the red men, in the absence of the chief and his ehosen warriors; and the sanguinary result, was without parallel in the traditionary an- nals of the tribe. The wholi! of the women and cliildren, with several of (he most aged warriors of Ortawee, were savagely slaughtered. The red warriors, left in the capital !>'• reason of tlieir great age, were incapal)le of ottering resistance, and were engaged in offices which should liave rendered their pin-sons in\io!ahle. AVhon the enemy entered the seat of their chiefs, the red m(m were occupied in the performance of the sinipl(> rites which their ri ligion enjoined, and wliich liad hitherto connnanded the respect or I'ear of the most relentless of the 5lieniae warriors. Thus, the violation of t'u'ir religious rites, and tin; success of the stratagem by which their enemies eluded the vigilance of the scouts that watciu'd tlie passes in the mountains, the two grand incentives to action and revengo in the breast of a savage, wrought more strongly upon tlie minds of the red war- riors, than either the nnis; icre of their Women and their children, o;- the scries of defeats which had already depopulated the fairest portion of their t-omitry. As it was while the red tribe was snuirting under the recent gasluvs of the tomahawk of the i\Iiemacs, tliat tlie re- markai)le lOuropeans, w Iiose history is interwoven with the eaiiinitous tale of that i\nhappy race, will also first come under our notice, wo may pro|)erly take Uj. the regular course of ti-ansactiMUs, V ith tile consequences which iminediateiy followed that important event in their history. The chief and his warviors rettunied to their capital, unacquainted with the eali- mity which had befallen them. But, as they descended the hill which overlooked their late happ3- homes, all their fears were at once awakened. They saw thi,' smoke of no fire. No sounds of joy, no voice of wife and children, greeted their approach. They looked for the infants and their mothers whom they should have met, where tlii'y had embraced them as tiiey departed, but none came out to wel- eon'e tht-m. A step further, and they knew that tney were bereaved of the partners of their bosoms— that tluy were childless. The blood of their wives, and tliat of their olfspring stained the ground. Jjut not a murmur escaped their lips; nor was a sigh of regret he-rd; ner did a troubled loIicmacs, and your ir enemies have I men of fire, who rising of the sun, der and lightning e evil spirit. Have a fatal confidence ^ and have ye not le red tribe? Arc solate, so that the our fires? Let Let us feed our ^e, as we pass the " conquest, and in tortures for the ' continued the forth his hands down from thy le clouds! protect after to conquest! jries. TheMicmac Your enemies, the chase when iturn." best powers of against imme- cpiiiirn of Utter- is tribe, seemed to jy an impassioned oncluden : — varriors! the foe (ive us ; but if we ile ho is contem- and rejoicing in we shall encoun- ;ed by success, or it two snows will ick : we shall sur- , and avenge our ■1 ■ up ■'X $1 4 disasters. Hear me, ye chiefs! Le* us proceed to the slaughter of the women and old men of the Micmacs, and com- plete our revenge, by the massacre of the young also, while engaged in the very celebration of their late triumph. We are yet strong; and from the memory of our late disasters we shall derive new force." At the close of this address, the exulta- tion of the assembled warriors was univer- sal, and the movement general. And when the chief perceived this, he endeavoured by the force of his milder strain of elo- quence and more cautious counsel, to restrain, or at least to direct their enthu- siasm. But his efforts were vain, and his voice was drowned, in the general cry of quick revenge. The red men now drew their toma- hawks, and every warrior strove, by the utmost show of his savage ire, to excel his companions in all the proofs he could exhibit of his hatred of his enemies, and his desire of immediate revenge, until the confusion became general But while the w-rriors, bent upon their grand design, gave w&y to the expression of feelings which they could no longer control, a shrill cry was suddenly heard throughout the hall, which drew all eyes towards the place where the chief stood; and, astounded, they gazed upon a figure which none had seen before. The object which now transp rted every warrior with admiration min -li with terror, was a light figure, of femi beauty scarce perfectly formed, an dressed in a robe of pure white, and im> brown parted hair, which fell in curls upon the shoulders, and about a portion of the neck which was bare. The object of wonder stood'beside the chief, who was not less affected than the warriors by his super- stitious fears. But the fair form now laid one hand very gently upon his shoulder and stretched forth the other in the attitude of command; and in the native accents of the red tribe, thus addressed the assembled warriors. " Warriors of a race," said the str.anger, " that once knew not the limits of their empire, the Great Spirit, in pity for the sufferings of his people, hath sent down his messenger of mercy. Listen to his counsels. " Forty snows have not whitened these hills, since the strongholds and capital places of your nation protected the terri- tory now occupied by your foes. 'Tis less than forty snows since your warlike fathers were cut off from the habitations of the lining. During all this time ye have despised the example of your ancestors, who, when their enemies triumphed, sought the alliance of other tribes. But other tribes, ye will say, there are none that have not lifted the toma- hawk against ye, and mourned for those warriors which your valour hath slain. But ye err. Look on this face and on this arm. For what do ye believe has the Great Spirit sent unto you the likeness of men ye deem impious — of men who ye suppose have armed your enemies with lightning and thunder? He hath sent his herald to proclaim peace. The nation which ye call the children of fire are no longer your enemies. Send to them your chosen warriors. Demand of them suc- cour. Above all, postpone your invasion of the territory of the Micmacs, until ye have fallen down before the guardian angel of the red tribe, who dwelleth in the sacred mountain which the shades of your fathers inhabit, and whoboldeth the judg- ments and the good gifts of the Great Spirit of the world in his hands." As the scarce human figure uttered the last sentence, a general confusion with renewed clamour again arose. Some ap- peared to believe that white men had sur- rounded them, and laid a snare for the destruction of the flower of their remain- ing warriors ; and, notwithstanding their superstitious fears, none could put faith in the affirmed mission from the Great Spirit. They could not believe that he would send his messenger in the figure of one of the white race. But in the midst of this uproar the chief stretched forth his lands in sign of his desire to be heard; and as he advanced to address the warriors, the mysterious figure suddenly disap- peared. The clamour was now greater than ever. The chief attempted to speak, but he was not heard; ana it was not until Uttermoot, the popular seer of the tribe, again stood up beside the chief, that order was restored. " Warriors !" said ho, " I perceive that this extraordinary vision hath discon- certed many which never before betrayed emotions of fear. I perceive that your losses have transformed ye to women! Ye bear not your sufferings as red men, though ye be resolute to avenge them. Listen to the counsels of your seer! Let my sacred office, if not my years, com- mand your attention. Tlie spirit which ye have seen, was, indeed, the agent of white men. Believe not their counsels I They have lying tongues and false hearts. Seek other causes to explain your griefs, other means to re-establish your position. i r ': ■ 6 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OF Will you listen to the voice of your ancient seer?" At these words of their se'^r, all the warriors bent their heads, in quick sign of assent, and the counsellor contiued — " Red warriors ! " said he, " the neglect of the worship of the evil spirit is the true cause of our disasters. Jjct us hasten to propitiate his wrath. Let us offer at his altar such a sacrifice as may avert his more terrible anger, and then march against the enemies of our race. The pardon, and the aid of the evil angel being obtained, the course which I have before recommended, will be alone that which ye may follow with honour, and that alone which will conduct you to the accomplishment of your pious hopes, in the slaughter of your enemies. The short, but artful appeal of this seer, to the prevailing passion of the red men, was followed by yet stronger mani- festations of its effects, than had attended his previous address. His object now, was to arouse the religious y.eal of the Eeople in favour of the opinions of which e was the advocate, concerning the principles of good and evil, whicl;, in a future page of this story, will be found exercising so great influence over the minds and the destinies of the red race, as to require such explanation as would be prematu'-e with this first allusion to the passions of this people, and the means by which they were sw.ayed. But while matters remained in this state of uncertainty, an unexpected occur- rence at once established unanimity of purpose among the excited warriors. Among the lied Indians, it was con- sidered not becoming, in a young warrior, to stand forward and express his opinions, in their councils, while his parent was present. But when, upon any sudden impulse, a youthful warrior, especially if allied to their chief, stood up to speak, he was not only attentively heard, but his counsel even excited some degree of superstitious reverence. Ahtomah, the elder son of the red chief, was a youth of great promise to his tribe. He had scarce been engaged in war, and his principal achievements had hitherto arisen out of the incidents of the chase; though his skill and courage had also discovered themselves while engaged in the dangerous rovings of a scout. His only trophies, indeed, were the skins of beasts. Yet, in addition to the ordinary qualifications for war which he possessed, he had an ear, that not only enabled him to discover the foot- steps of man or beast, far bejond the distance at which the warriors gene- rally were able to perceive by the use of tlui same organ of sense, but also in a more remarkable manner to disting\iish the tread of the human foot from that of the brute, and even to discover the course of the object of alarm. He had also an eye that excelled all his tribe in the (julck discovery of distant objects in motion; and he was not surpassed by an}-, in that apt sense of observation which enables a savage to follow the foot- steps or trail of an enemy through the leaf- strewn forest, or even over the barren rock. While the warriors were yet in the state of disorder in which the ccmtrary opinions entertained concerning the ques- tionable vision seemed to have thrown them, the youtiiful son ofthe chief, standing upf)n the raised ground, thus addressed tl:cm — "Companions of the chase," said he, " for, to my shame, I am not known to you in war, give your ears now to the V(iice of one too weak ti.i address you^ without the aid of the Great Spirit. Your councils are still divided; your debate has been disgraced by the con- fusion that would be worthy of a Mic- macor an Eskimoh assembly, rather than restrained or governed by that dignity in council for which (jur fathers were famed. Listen now to the sole means which remains of exerting your full force against the enemies of our race, of exter- minating their generation and possessing their terriUny. Before the dawn of to- morrow, let messengers be dispatched to every village of the red tribe, and let the father of hi;; people gather his warriors around him, auil appear beneath the frowning and dark heights of Mount Chasedorah, where the angel of our tribe conceals his form from human eyes. There let us sacrifice, that we may receive the sanction of his will, and the assistance of his power; and there shall our revered seers discover the truth or the falsehood of the vision we have thi.s night stood and witnessed. Warriors ! I have spoken." At these words there was but one universal cry of "Chasedorah! Chase- dorah! To the Mount! to the Mount! To the mountain which rears its head above the clouds!" which was resounded within and without the hnll, till the echo reverberated from the opposite hills, exciting and strengthening the resolution of the red men, who now thought only of assembling their warriors of the whole nation, and by this means of attaining the desired unity in their plans of attack upon the Micmacs. THK HED INDIAN'S OP XKWroUNDLAM). There was no need of further debate; and the eliief and his son now retired to their wigwam, and the warriors as soon dispersed. CHAPTER III. 0! the sacrifice! How ccremoriiniia, solGinn, and uncu'thly It was I'tlie otfL'riiig I AViNTEii's Tali:. Prosprro. Hiist lliou spirit Prrform'U to point tlio tempest thut I bade tliec .' Aiiel. To every article. I'rosjwro. My brnve spirit, Who was 80 Ann, so constant, thiit this coil Would not Infect his reason. Ariel. Not a soul. Tempest. The once sacred mountain of the red Indians, is situated upon the eastern coast of the great northern arm of the island, and about a day's journej' from the last scat of government of the tribe, which was at 4qual distance from the eastern and west- ern coasts of the same district of the country. It raises its stately head above the clouds or mists which almost perpe- tually screen its simimit from human view; and it was supposed by the red tribe, to be the special dwelling of the guardian spirit of their race, to whom they addressed their supplications, for his intercession with the Great Spirit, whenever difticulties or dangers of aggra- vated character surrounded them. The valleys around the sacred moun- tain were not without vegetation; but its steep and craggy sides presented only dark underwood, and stunted firs, here and there relieved by a chister of taller spruces, in the branches of which the hawk and the eagle built their nests beyond the reach of the reptiles which ar«» wont to prey upon their eggs or their young. Faithful to the resolution of summon- ing the Red Indians to a propitiatory and fenoral sacrifice, the chief had sent forth is heralds into the most remote country of his people, so that not a village might want its representative on the solenm occasion; and upon the fifth day f.fter the council at Ortawee, the parties began to arrive; and before the noon of the sixth day, the leading warriors, and the flower of all the forces of the tribe were assem- bled near the foot of the mountain. Here an altar of wood was now erected, and a Micmac chosen from among some slaves of that people which they still possessed, for the offering. The seers of the several parties now marched in great solemnity towards the pile, accom]>nnied by four of the wi i rs. who bore upon their shoulders the i.vlic- niac already bound. The human sacrifice, which was at- tached to a pole and firmly bound, was now placed upon the wood. Then the warriors retired, and a seer of Ortawee, whose worship was addressed to the good spirit alone, having stretched forth his hands towards the veiled summit of the moui.tain, the whole camp began to sing the hymn by which they were wont to propitiate the patron angel of their tribe, to avert the judgments of their offended deities, in the following words: — " Immortal spirit — dweller above the mists — the chiefs of thy depressed people fall donn in worship before thee. " Guardian of the red tribe, and great representative of the good spirit, accept our offering; arm thy worshippers with lightning and thunder, raise the storm, and out of the clouds pour down des- truction upon our enemies." There %\as now a pause, when the good seer, turning to the south, stretched forth his hands towards the sun, as he exclaimed — "And thou, bright and just image of the great spirit of the universe! first cause and principle of life and light! everlasting orb! before the brightness of thy full glory, when thou hurnest in heaven, thy people rejoice. Night comes : thou sleepest: thespiritsof evil are seen: they come from their caverns in the earth : they fill all hearts with fear. But thou awakest : they dare not behold thee ; and at thy full morning ray, they mingle with the mists, and silently melt away. Then thy people, whom the warmth of thy beam first drew from the ground, call upon thee, and they see their enemies fly. The children of the evil spirit dare not so much as raise their eyes towards heaven. " Let the spirit of the universe destroy our enemies; and make the red people again to outnumber the leaves of the forest trees." Their adorations and prayers thus con- cluded by the address of the good seer, the warriors inarched towards the altar of the supposed accepted offering, before the flame was yet put to the pile. First came tne cnief himself, who held the sovereignty of the tribe, and presided over the national councils, and on account of whose recent calamity, with that of his particular party, they were now met to seek the aid of the angel of their tribe. He was of commanding stature, though a little bent with age, and was dressed in a i i ) t ! ' ': <, I 'M i\ ■:! » '» ! ■ (V1TAW\II, run LAST VllW.V OV tVtH'k «)!' tloor-skin, p;ir(lU'(l at ll\o wiiist, luu) richly onmincntcd witli slu'Hs ntui thu j>lunuif;;o of hinls of t1u> isluiul. Hut UN (s«'ntiilionof tho sim, fonuod of ]i(>hhlcs iiitd shells, luid II fiiU tiiu'ii of foul ht>rs t'lu'iirliu^; his luiul. In his right hiiiul ht> I'lirrit'd iv snciir, ciul in iiis loft iv shii santo arms. Ahloinah, who now for tho tirst tinio took his formal .ialionan\oni'thosnorsai\d loading warriors of thi» trd»o, stood hy Ihooliiof. Ilo was hy nature of graoofnl torson aiul donuMinor. Ilo was allirod ikolho rosi, and lioro tho sau\o woapons; Iml hi woro only i< (iinglo foalhor in iVont of tho band wlsioh onoirolod his In-ad. Ilo was not of an :;p,o at whioh ho mii'ht iiro- |.orly tako any share in tho oormonials of tho .aort'd rito thoy woro now assonddoil to perform; bnl this very inability upon that ground, whioh had aoted j^o power- fully at ()rlawo<>, and boon IhoprMU-ipal cause whioh inul onablod him to succood in diverting the warriors iVom the fatal ooiirso into whioh their passioi\s wore about to pluu<;(> them at Iho proposition of 'ho designing seer, operated again as olVcotually at llu' siu'rilloo. It was usmil for the warrior who had be(\ere hold on all such oi'oasions, when i\o deeds in war v.ere in tpiostion. lo he declared entilleil to perform tho most, saorod iilt< of the coroniony of tlu< sacrilice, whii-h was that of liring tho pile; and on tids occasion. Ahtoinali v\as nnanimonsly declared tho most wtirlhy to perform that holy oOico, 'I'he summit, of th(< mountai)i wiim iiniv visible, and the nniutent propitious; and the ohief and hi \ son at'vancod hai;il in hand towards the altar. Then followed the seers, ami tho warritirs whoso so- uiorily (U- martial deeds entitled ihem to be near tho person of their «'hiel'; ami arter, canu' all the warriors of Ortawoo, ami all tluit had b(>en summoned to re- present the so\eral bands into which Iho (ribe wait divided. In this order thoy nuirchcd to within a few furlongs of the ultnr. Hero thoy stopped; ami at a signal, and after tho example of tlu'ir chid, iho principal soor, and inferior seers, who had perfornu'd tho labour of jiroparing tho altar, and con- secrating tho olVoring, and all tho war- riors savo Ahton\ah, f< II u few paces back. The ground, between tho people ai\d the altar, was thus loll in i)oss<'ssion of the son of tho ohief; and 'no yovnig warrior advanctul with Iho llaniiiiK tmvh in his hand; and as ho approached the pil(>, all the warriors shouted " at^'atches- nuu'a!" (angel of the n)o\n\titin hear \is!) During lln< pn>parations for th«> sacri- lice, every ono had boon too much occnpiod to ohsorvo the changing aspect of lhi> sky. 'I'he sun had disappear«'d without leaving a ray to mark thu ipuu'- t(>r r.f hoavt>n in which ho had last shone. Thick mists and dark clouds had impor- coi'.tablv gathered, and now obscured tho \iow ot all bcyoml the narrow boinids of the plain, upon which tho warriors were oncamped; and l)u< night was at huiul. Ahlouudi arresl« n\i>uutain. It was Iho llrst tim(< that he had observed tho throalcuing asnect of tho heavens. Hut all was yet calm and still, as if the oh>nu'ntH re- spected lh(> religious rites of a pious |(ooph>, 'Iho youthful warrior spoke not; but as ho raised th(> brand in sign of his being ready to place Iho lire bonoalh tho sacn'd vioiMn,ho received the accuslom(ir voi"os ci'hood from hill to hill; and as it died gradually away, it left a deep and solemn silence, inidisturbed by Iho sound of Iho slightest footstep, or the least moliou of tho inouin- la. The sacred |)ilo wns high, ami consisted of s\u'h inllannnnblo material', of wood ami bark, as were adiipted lo produce, when lighted, the most brilliant show. Tho brand was mwv applied, and tho Ihimes aseended, till lh(>y illunumm> becK.ue the n>or»< fearfully nnig- n'llcent. U 4 ■?s; nHiThod to within iiltnr. Hom thoy i\nl. nail nflor tho iho princijml n«h'I', liuw jiaoos vi>t'n tho |MM>j)lo lt lliuniu)); lon'li 10 HpprOiU'lUMl tlio Olllod " Kf'll tollOH- nountiiin hour us!) ions for tho siiori- l)o(>n toi> iuiioh 10 ol\nnuinn; UNpoct I iiiid (iiNii|)|>oiu'o(l to nniiU thu {\\\»Y- iio hud hiMt (diono. olouds hu«l iinitor- I now ohsiMirod llu> > nurrow honndn of tho wun'iors woio i^lit wu.s at Iniiul. hiN .stop «ro l\o 10 oast his ovos . It was tho llrst vod tho tliroatonin^; Ihit all was vot (ho oliMnonts ro- vi'.os of a pious or spoUo not J hul nd in sijjn of his |ho (iro lioni nth tho d llio aconstoinod •nt. 'ri>o warriors 11 shoulod with one (ho ] ilo!" Th awlnl oxpootation. ]oi"os tH'hood tVoin i( diod gradually |id solontn silouoo, lud of th(< sliKhtost li(ion of tho inomn- ll will, and inspirod (I h. 10 warriors, ino prow noar to (ho Huorod pilo was Isuoh indanunnhio d hnrli, as wtro |vhon lightod, tho apidiod, nud tlio TV ill n>v Kluuunot I th< »or« gati nl.,\N'l). 2 10 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OF One of the warriors only stood yet erect, amidst the raging of the elements, and the fury of the consuming flames, as they swept in bright streams along the devoted plain. It was the magnanimous youth that had lighted the pile. But when the renewed flashes of forked light- ning laid open the whole scene to his amazed eyes, and he saw all the people prostrate, his spirit too, succumbed to the frightful exhibition, which it had been impious to have braved. He once more cast his eyes towards the mountain. Put there was nothing visible, save the dark clouds of the whirlwind, intermixed with streaks of grey and yellow light. His knees now trembled. His frame shook. He placed his hands before his eyes ; and uttering the words " Wahmahtshadah, the red race is extinct," he fell with his face towards the ground. CHAPTER IV. Be collected, No more amazement ; tell your piteous lieart, Tbere'i no harm done, Tbmpekx. Thk storm still raged ; and the night was far advanced, when the fair and bright form of the messenger of the good spirit, who was seen in the hall of as- sembly, now stood by the side of the astounded Ahtomah, and in the midst of the desolation around, thus addressed him — '^ Son of a race of chiefs 1 arise from thy bed of terror! Bind this bright girdle about thy waist. Takje courage at my words. The wrath of offended heaven shall pass ^waA' before the first strcmks of the morning s ligljt, beyond the eastern sea, si^all proclaiin the return of auotluT day. Follow pxel I am tlie messenger of the sfifit that governs the destinies of thy future people. For tUee, I have knowli^dge, in price ahnve «ii the pcai-ls of thy tribe. It is given to thee, to raise thy people abo\o their former estiM^. Tread in thi; footsteps of the messenger of the clouds. Ilasic thee. Tiie storm abates. The day approaches. The light is at hand." Before the half of these words of hope were spoken, the youth hiid raisinl iiim- self upon «)ne knee; and, as the ilasliiiig of the lightning discovered at intervals, tiie same tingel-like form before him, that he had already seen, his prescMU'c of mind seemed in part to return; and taking tiie bright bolt, he substituted it for his own, which he now east upon the ground : and as he stood upon his feet, he felt his full courage return, and lu^ thus addressed the form before him — " Fair spirit," said he, " and beautiful angel of the great patron of the red tribe! I obey thy summons. I will follow whithersoever thou leadest. At thy commands I will ascend the mountain, or enter the caverns and cleft rocks which the storm has laid open to the day. What wilt thou that I should perform? The fair messenger was silent ; and had the cooler observation of an aged warrior witnessed the scene, such trepi- dation might have been visible on her side, as would have raised his suspicions concerning the real character oi the ap- parent agent u the good spirit. But Ahtomah was at that period of IU\'. when the passions, once excited, like a false mil. or, reflect all qualities in the same form, and make incongruous objects appear consistent, and conformable with our more potent impressions, or the soul of any great or favourite design. The love of his country, and of the worship of the Great Spirit, vere the predominant feelings of the ym^th's mind; and now, putting entire f^i^ i» the vision, and the promises of |t^ ho^y messenger before him, he ^iiowed l^r footsteps as she approacbje4 ^ St^ps of the sacred moun- tain. For a shprt time, a,s they advanced, the tract left by the bears and other \v'\\d animals in their ascent and descent of the mountain was visible, by the mere light of a torch, which the messenger of the good angel bore in her hand. But as tjiey proceeded, they climbed craggy rcxjKs and leaped across cracks and clefts, which on other occasions the most expert warrior would have paused before \n' attempted to pass. But the light form of the holy guide proceeded with unhesi- tating step, and with foot so sure, amidst every dni'ger, that even had tlie youth seen bor mere mortal colouring, when she first looked upon his fine form ivs \n\ arose from his knees before her, the doubts he might have then conceived of her supernatural ngeney would have now vanished. Before the sini appeared above the horizon, Aiitomah iind his f'uide were beyond the clouds and perpetual mists which envelop the mid region of Mount Chasedorah. Since the youth had placed the girdle that had been given him about his waist, no inten-ourse, by ex- change of signs or by words, had passed between him and his aerial eontuictor; but lis thev reached an oym and favoura- ble situation for observuig all that was visible below, the fair messenger of the / THE RKD INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDKAXD. 11 good spirit stopped, yet spoke not. The youth cast his eyes around him. The first beams of the rising sun were just breaking through the eastern border of the rolling ocean of mist beneath their feet; and, as the rays of the bright lumi- nary fell against the side of the moiuitain, the golden reflex of his beams on the one hand, and the dark shadow of the moun- tain, as it fell upon the lake of silvery mist on the other, presented a scone which no part of the earth, save the mountain region of this rugged land, exhibits. " Fair child of the skies," said the Indian, now addressing his mysterious guide, •' wJiere is thy dwelling in this sa(!red mountain; or hast thou no habitation? no shade from the burning heat of the (lay? Thou livest above the turbulent elements of the lower world. The tempest cannot reach thee. But how should thy fair form, if thou art of flesh and blood as thou seemost, resist the full ray of the mid-day sun?" The fair messenger replied not by words, but by a sign she bade the youth still to follow her. They had yet many craggy steeps to surmount; an(l at inter- vals they stopped to look again and again upon the gorgeous scone beneath them. The glory nf the scene augmented as tiiey proceeded. The silver clouds at their feet were now changed into golden plains, presenting the most magniflcent sho\\s on every hand. Sometimes the villages and stately dwellings of his an- cestors, of the grandeur of which tlie young warrior had a thousand times heard, seemed to present their images to his amazed eyes ; and sometimes a vast forest of golden junipers seemed to extend over immeasural)le plains. Then the scene again changed, and he seemed to see hosts of re(l men mixing in battle with innumerable foes. Kow a hundred armed canoes floated upon t he abyss ; and anon many more of larger dimensions with enormous wings, seemed coming from tlie east, while villages tliat could not l)e nunibered, with wigwams of new forms, occupied the valleys and the plains. The magnificent show seemed to change with every step, at every altitude at which ho beheld it. But they at length reached tht; summit of the mysterious mounliiin. The top of the mountain was covered with huge masses of broken rocks. Through these they threaded their way to the ridge which looked directly on the sea. Thence they descended a short distance, to a lodgment of the rocks, so convenient for observation, that it seemed as if it had been designed for the dwelling of contem- plative spirits. The spectacle of the rising sun, as his first beam struck the top of the mountain, and of the broad ocean when the noan-day ray dryed up the vapours that almost perpetually floated over the waters, were the more remarkable exhibi- tions of this aerial regien. ITpon this platform, under the over- hanging rooks that formed the ridge of the table-summit of the mountain, a natu- ral cavern opened ; and the fearless guide, leading the youth to its entrance, for the first time since they had commenced the ascent of the mountain now broke silence, and thus addressed him — " Brave Indian," said the fair form, "my task is accom- plished — my duty performed. We must now enter this cave. It is the will of the Great Spirit. He is good; but his ways are dark, his service difficult. Follow me!" The Indian, with high-wrought feelings of admiration mingled with superstitious fears, hesitated not to follow his mysteri- ous guide; and they together entered the cavern by the light of a torch which was still borne by the beautiful form that now more cautiously led the way. The cavern consisted of several apart- ments, which were formed by walls of loose stones; and they now came to that which had been assigned by the mysteri- ous inhabitants of the mountain, whom we have not yet seen, for their reception, and for the first interview between the dwellers above the mists and one of the inhabitants of the lower world. As they entered, appeared an aged man, as it seemed to the young warrior, of the white race, sitting upon a raised seat, resembling nothing ho had before seen, while at his feet sat an Indian of the red tribe. They were botii dressed in the skins of seals; but the white man wore upon his head a cap of the bear's fur, while the Indian was uncovered. But before we relate the occurrences which followed the arrival of the young warrior in the sacred mor.ntain of the red tribe, wo must unfold the previous history of its mysterious inluibitnnts, with whom he was now so strangely associated. CIIAPTEIl V. "This point is dubious, and not yot aulhontlptilly dnoldod." llnowKi'.'s Vi.o. Knnong. FnoM the authentic records whicli concern the early histiU'y of Newfound- land, wo learn that near the close of the reign of Elizabeth, a party of English adventurers embarked, with their familiei, 12 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OF with the intention of forming a perma- nent settlement in that island. The enter- prising emigrants sailed from Bristol, and first landed in Trinity Bay, upon the more eastern part of the coast, where they erected temporary dwellings. But owing to the war with Spain, in which Elizabeth engaged all her seamen and ships, or to the negligence of her successor, the com- munication with the island was long sus- pended; and the whole of the settlers, of whom no certain accounts were ever obtained, are supposed to have been massacred- by the natives, whose hostility they are known to have experienced from the commencement of their settle- ment. Bnt if we can go no further with any assured history of the first adventurers in Newfoundland, we may conjecture, what is at least probable, that the white inhabitants of the mountain, whom we have seen in an assumed character, were survivors who escaped the fate of their companions in voluntary exile; and we may here take leave ot every I'estraint to th'^ fancy concerning their connection with nr tale, save the authorities re- ferred to in the Preface, and the just license of romance. The Indians, t^en, following the only authorities to wJiich we can pretend to have recourse, sated with excess of blood, after the slaughter of the emigrants, every soul of whom they believed they had destroyed during the fatal night of their triumph, deferred, in this instance, the pccustomed scalping of the slain until the break of day. In the meantime, the white man whom we have seen, who had been wounded, having recovered from the eifects of the loss of blood which he had sustained, succeeded, with his infant child unhurt in his arms, in gain- ing one of their boats which lay upon the shore, and thence pushed off to sea, with- out any other design than that of avoid- ing the immediate fate of his companions in the unfortunate adventure. As soon as the good man succeeded in getting beyond the reach of his enemies, he probably made an effort to impel the boat towards the more southern shore, in the hope that in case any other Europeans should have landed in any part of the island, the prospect of meeting them in that direction would be tlie greatest. But being too much exhausted by the effects of the wounds he had receivecf, to struggle for any time with the elements, he was driven towards the north, and finally thrown upon the beach, and his boat wrecked near the base of the mountain so remarkable in Indian history, and among the fastnesses of which he had ever since dwelt. The wounds that the white man had received, were, doubtless, too severe to leave him now any hope that he might ever, unaided, reach such part of the coast as might chance to be visited by any of his countrymen, or any European. We must conclude, therefore, that he resigned himself to the fate which had befallen him, still hoping that he might preserve his infant through the perils to which they were exposed, perhaps, some day to return to the land of her fathers, and to the society of civilised men. Until a short time before the date of the events which have been related in tlie preceding chapter, the child which had been named Adalie, had been ignorant of everything that regarded the external world, and even of her own origin, except that she was the daughter of the aged man with whom she dwelt. She had grown almost to womanhood, without having beheld any other man than her parent, and the old Red Indian above mentioned ; and, as she had never known one of her own sex, her experience and her store of ideas, it may be supposed, were confined within a narrow s])here. The tale of the life of the old Indian, whom we shall call Shalulac, as far as it at present regards our history, is brief. He had been known among his tribe for the several virtues of an Indian warrior, and had distinguished himself in many attacks upon, and many massacres of, their enemies. But having been taken prisoner by the Micmacs, he had effected his escape under circumstances, which, as they will be disclosed in a future page, it is here only necessary to premise, were attended with accidents, that disqualified him from returning to his tribe without hazarding results that were more terrible to contemplate than the torture and death which he had escaped. Thus he had wandered away far from the usual haunts of the tribes, and lived in absolute soli- tude, until ho accidentally discovered the white man with whom he had ever since dwelt. The first interview of the red and the white man, the circumstances attending which we shall particularise, was such as at once established a friendly disposition on both sides, which was soon ripened into respect and veneration on the part of the Indian for his companion of a superior race, and was met by the deepest sympathy and kindness on the part of the white man. Tlie Indian, during the period of his port sistJ rare prefl one! witlf lian history, and of which he had le white man had !ss, too severe to )pe that he might such part of the to be visited by or any European. Iierefore, that he e fate which had ing that he might 3ugh the perils to ed, perhaps, some nd of her fathers, t'ilised men. lefore the date of leen related in the child which had I been ignorant of ied the external )wn origin, except ;hter of the aged dwelt. She had iianhood, without er man than her ed Indian above had never known r experience and nay be supposed, larrow sphere. f the old Indian, dac, as far as it at ory, is brief. He his tribe for the ian warrior, and in many attacks sacres of, their taken prisoner lad effected his nces, which, as a future page, to premise, were that disqualified lis tribe without ere more terrible irture and death Thus he had the usual haunts in absolute soli- y discovered the had ever since ed and the white ittending which such as at once position on both ned into respect t of the Indian perior race, and sympathy and white man. ■3 period of his 1 I THE RED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 13 painful solitude, came often to the coast, where he was wont to procure the chief portion of the food upon which he sub- sisted, but only during the night; and he rarely ventured within the immediate precincts of the sacred mountain. Upon one occasion, however, he had approached within a shorter distance of the holy ground than was his custom, and by the light of the moon he had discovered the print of a foot, the form of which he could not recognise. It was not that of a Micmac ; it was not that of a red man ; and it was still more certain that it was not that of one of theEskimoh inhabitants of the more northern region, whose canoes were kno^vn sometimes to visit this part of the coast for the purpose of procuring shell-fish, which especially abounded here undisturbed, by reason of the sa- credness of the place, but which was not respected by the more northern savages. The red man, however, followed the trail, even beyond the bounds at which super- stition had fixed the barrier against safe approach towards the holy place, until he began to conje< ture that it was the trail of one of the supposed yet greater enemies of his race which were known to come in tall canoes from beyond the rising of the sun, and he proceeded at present no further. For some time after this discovery, however, he came occasionally at night to the spot where he had first seen the trail. But he had neither heard nor seen any further indication of the presence of men of any colour or tribe, when, on one occa- sion that he had ventured near the same limits during the day, he perceived the white man occupic' as it seemed to him, in procuring fish ' om the sea by means which he could not comprehend. The red man, astounded by what he saw, stood for a time perplexed with many doubts and contrary passions. " What should be the duty, said he to himself, "of a red warrior before his foe? What his interest?" His first suggestion was naturally that of a savage — revenge upon the enemy of his tribe: his second, to weigh the doubtful eftects of his success upon his own safety. But as he reflected upon his condition, and remembered the traditions and reports of the wliite race during his residence amongst the Micmacs, he began to think that in case he could make a safe appoach to the stranger now before him, he might conciliate his friend- snip and put an end to the painful state of solitude which it was his fiite to endure. But ho was yet unable to determine his safest course; and he retired for the present, to ponder at leisure upon the best mode of turning to his advantage the dis- covery which he had made. For several days he now watched the white man without being able to decide upon the best mode of confronting him. It became shortly, however, apparent, that some object that the stranger had not by his side, during his occupation beyond the breakers upon the beach, was a subject of great solicitude to him; and, as familiarity with the forbidden ground had somewhat weakened the red man's superstitious fears, the cautious savage watched a favourable opportunity for discovering, in the first place, the cause of this appa- rent anxiety on the part of the white man. As soon as the Indian had determined upon this step, he embraced a favourable opportunity, and advanced by cautious approaches towards the front ground im- mediately opposed to that where the white man was engaged in his accus- tomed occupation. He crept sometimes in the wake of a prominent roclc, and sometimes through the narrow fissures which the greater masses presented, until he attained a lodgment imobserved upon a natural terrace immediately facing the sea strand. But here he was sur- prised by the discovery of an artfully constructed little close building formed entirely of loose stones; and upon re- moving some of these, which seemed to form the door-way, which was easily accomplished unobserved, by reason of the entrance being upon the opposite side to that which looked upon the sea, he discovered a white infant sleeping upon a bed of dried weed, and clothed with such skins, it seemed to him, as he had never seen before. The exultation of the red man as he gazed upon the object before him exceeded his astonish- ment; and for a moment, he was almost changed from the better purpose in which he was engaged, by the fair prospect which seemed to offer, of so easily accom- plishing the first suggestions of a savage, when vengeance may be taken upon an enemy, even in the blood of his infant off- spring, without the danger of immediate retaliation. But the babe opened its eyes and smiled with innocent confidence, which at once affect(;d the savage with human pity, and suggested the fittest step towards accomplishing his wishes; and he snatched up tlie child in his arms, and hastened to descend the rocks to- wards the strand, with a view of showing the power hepossessed of dictating hisown terms of peace with the white man. But I 14 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CIMF.F OF before he reached the beach he perceived his supposed enemy approaching. The white man, who had ceen the savage descending the rocks, had lastened to encounter him, almost frantic with his ffears, lest his child should have been taken or destroyed. But his suspense was of short duration; for the Indian, with the natural quickness of a savage, immediately conceived a means of effect- ing the conciliation he sought, which he now successfully employed. Thus, while the father remained paralysed at the view of his child in the arms of a savage, the red man placed the infant at his feet; and now stood with his tomahawk by his side, as if he were luiarmed before him. This important occurrence in our tale, took place a few months after the mas- sacre of the settlers, in which Shahdac had no participation, and had no know- ledge of, before his acquaintance with the white man; and its consequence was a firm union between the white and the red man; and the Indian from this time con- tinued faithfully to do those oitices for the father and daughter, which his habits enabled him to perform, and to which the inferiority of his mind naturally led him. As soon as mutual confidence was thus establiphed, the white man let; the passive Indian directly to the grentca orn of the mountain, where we havi' already seen him, and where they subsisted upon deer's and bear's flesh, seals, and fresh fish, during the summer months, and during the winter, upon the same meats, either dried in the sun or preserved in the snow. They made, however, several attempts, in a canoe which they constructed, to reach some part of the island, that might chance to be visited by Europeans; but they tvere as often exposed to imminent perils and great suffering, from hunger, fatigue, and disappointment. At length all Jjt-ospect of escape having vanished, the White exile took up his permanent residence in the cavern of the mountain, indulging onlj' in the single hope, in which he contmually watched the ocean, that some European vessel might appear upon that coast, and finally convey tliem to his native land. But although their chief pursuit, while they dwelt in the mountain, had been that of procuring food, the white man had occupied much time in instructing Ids ciiild, as she advanced in years, in thosB branches of knowledge with which he was most familiar, or Avhich seemed best adapted to the situation in which th?y were placed. The Itidtan was for some time incapable of receiving • any kind of instruction; but as the white man began to gain acquaint- ance with bis language, and Adalie becar^e familiar with its most difficult idioms, he direct!}' or indirectly endea- voxired to instil into the red man's mind also, such convenient knowledge as his inapt pupil might most easily acquire. As the white man came to converse with the red man, he discovered that the Micmacs, tht great enemies of the red tribe had, at .east, at one time, hpd fire- arms among them, which was sufiicient proof that some interco'irse had taken place between vhitj men, whetlier his countrymen or not, and an Indian tribe of the island ; but he could learn no more. And, as his hopes of escape diminished, he dwelt upon his early recollections of the religion in whicli he had been nur- tured, until he formed a design, and planr.sd a means, of restoring peace between the savages who dwelt around him and the Micmac race, of whose wars he had learned a groat deal from his red companion. And, finally, the good man persuaded himself that he was the instru- ment in the hands of Providence to C-hristianise and civilise the savage in- itabitants of the island; and it was the enthusiasm which these impi'cssions in- spired, that had induced him to employ the white maiden in the dangerous mis- sions in which we have seen her, under the influence of her own conviction of her father's power, exhibiting a courage above that of her sex, and accomplishing what mere natural causes could scarce explain. But until the first mission of Adalie, when she appeared at the great council of the red tribe, the good white man's pious entliusiam had been confined to reflections; and the tenants of the moun- tain passed their lives without any attempt at opening an intercourse with the tribes, and without any interruption to their security, or any alarm, save, now and then, the appearance of a few Indians, whom they narrowly watched, but by whom they were probably never seen. We return from this necessary reference to the transactions of an earlier date, to what passed in tlie moilntain after the arrival of th(! son of the red chief. CHArTER VI. Hntifr no morfi on doiilit.— Kino JoUK. Thou ixrt my fnthcr, thou my milhor, thou My being gav'it me j ond whom should I obey Hut theo. I'ARAUISR Lost. Wk left the son of the red chief and his fair guide, at the moment of the young 1 THK RED IXDIAXS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 16 rod chief and L'lit of the young warrior's introduction to the white man, whose history, since the destruction of the settlements, we have now concisely rela'^d. The cavern into which they had entered was composed of several chasms and fissures in the rock which admitted of adaptation to the particular wants and convenience of the mountaineers. The de- partment in which the white man now sat, was a commodious and independent chamber, formed by a wall of loose stones, which separated it from the ground fissure in the rock which conducted to it. It was used in common by the whole party when they passed their time together, as well when they partook of their moun- tain's fare, as when Shahdac and the white maiden sat and listened to the in- structive discourses of its mysterious lord; and it was furnished with several conveniences, and decorated with many trophies of the chase. Mats covered the entire space usually made use of by its tenants ; and a massive chair, which had been formed of the branches of trees, and was used only when the white man discoursed with his partners inexile, upon subjects, concerning which he thought proper to support the dignity) that seemed essential to the mys- tery which belonged to them. The walls on every side were decorated with the skins of the beai", the otter, the fox, and the wolf, and other animals, and with all their weapons of the chase, consisting of spears, harpoons made of wood and stone, bows, and quivers of arrows. And upon cords, formed of the coarser hair of the bear, and drawn across the apart- ment, above their heads, were hung (juantities of dried fish of several kinds, and the flesh of birds and beasts of the chase. Day-light was the greatest of their wants, which the inhabitants of the cavern could not supply. 'J'here was, however, no scarcity of oil, which they obtained from the seals, and the smaller species of whales, which abounded on that coast, and when driven on the shore were sometimes caught by them; and as there were many crevic(>s by wliicii the impure air ascended to the Furface of the rocks above them and escaped, little or no inconvenience arose from keejnug the lamps nt all tim<'s burning. The son of the red chief and his fair guide were no sooner within this apart- nu-nt of the cavern, than the maiden took the Indian by the hand and presented him, but by signs only, to the object of his superstitious awe, who now sat upon his armed chair, that had been placed upon a raised platform formed of stones nicely adjusted for the purpose. J3ut if the young Indian was confounded by what he now experienced, the white man was not less perplexed by the novelty of his position, and the doubts which arose in his mind concerning the next step that he ought to take, to secure all. the advan- tages that should arise out of the success that had crowned the late enterprise. The day, however, was now far spent; and in order that he might see his daughter and Shahdac, who had assisted unobserved in the adventure of the past night, with- out the presence of the stranger, and have an opportunity to reflect upon and deter- mine the precise character that he should support, he a ;e upon his feet, and, in- stead of addressing the youth, now gave his commands to his willing agent in the execution of his designs, with an unusual air of mystery, even in himself, and in the tongue of his fathers — that she shouldcon- duct their stranger guest at once to a separate cell, which she should forbid him to leave until she returned to him, and then retire to her own apartment in the cavern, and after a brief absence re- turn to receive his further commands. The white maiden, without abating any portion of the mystery which she had hitherto so successfully supported, with the torch still in her hand, now led the breathless but unhesitating youth from the presence of her father, to seek the cell that had been prepared for his reception ; and Shahdac retired to his chamber with a similar injunction from the white man, to return after a short absence lo learn his further pleasure. The apartment of the cavern to which the maiden now brought the corapliant Indian, was formed by a mere cheism in the rock within the larger fissure. It was separated, however, from the passage which led to it by a wall that had been hastily constructed, with a curtain of skins hung across the aperture for a door, and was furnished with a bed of feathers and furs, which had been placed tbei-e for the purpose for which it was now to be used. When they had well entered this cham- ber, the* white maiden, turned to the wondering youth whom she led, anu as she had been instructed, said, in a voice of c(mfidence rather than authority, " Son of Ottawah, take now thy necessary rest, and leave not this chamber until the guide that brought thee here shall return to thee. To-morrow thou shalt converse face to face with the spirit of the moun- tain, to whom yesterday thou didst saori- 16 OTTAWAM, THE LAST CHIKF OF ■i:^ ficc, and of whom you liast so often demanded aid against the enemies of thy people." Adalie, having lighted a lamp that hung by the wall in the chamber, now turned to quit her tharge, and, pointing to the bed, only added — " The blessing of the spirits of peace, and of tlu! Lord of this mountain, be upon tliee." The yi>ung warrior uttered not a word in reply; but overcome by the strange- ness of events, and the sufferings of the past night, he threw himself upon the furs as his conductor left him, and soon fell into a sound sleep. All the inhabitants of the cavern, save the father of Adalie, were now sleeping, when the good man indulged his reflec- tions concerning all that had transpired, and the consequence that might be ex- pected to follow the success of his late enterprise. To Adalie and Shahdac, he was, in reality, scarce better known than to the Ked Indian, who had, for the first time, just appeared before him, although the only means by which he had acquired and maintained the intluence which he possessed over their minds, was that uu)st legitimate of all engines of powiT, superior knowledge, which was exhibited, above all, in his acquaintance with those phenomena of nature which the elements daily display. He had occupied his lonely hours in observation of natural causes and effects; and he had obtained so much knowledge of the laws by which the changes of the atmosphere are go- verned, tliat he was able to foresee a stormy or a bright day, with sufficient exactness to make what he chose to fore- tell appear like the exercise of a control over the elements and the celestial bodies, which seemed like second causes only of the phenomena which appeared. And such was the influence which he had by this means obtained over the I'cd man, and over his child whom we havi' seen fearlessly perforna a task so dithcult with so much ease, that they were equally impressed with an opinion that he possessed a power, of the extent and exact character of which, it would be an act » irreverence at least to inquire, and of which they could form no definite idea. It is true, that ho had been more iu- dobtcd for the success of the schemes which we have seen put into execution, to his own and Adalie's acciuiintance with the language and superstitions of the Indians, which they had obtained from Shahdac, his red compani mi, and to the accidencal condition of the red tribe» than to any other cause; yet all this he could easily ^'onceal. He had dreaded the Indians of cither tribe, and watched their motions in com- f)any with the red man, for many years; and le had toiled in the chase, and in some por- tion of the necessary labour in accommo- dating their dwelling, with no less waste of strength than his red companion. But his discourse from the time they became mutually ac(juainted with each others language, A\as so well adapted to instil respect into the mind of a savage, that the Indian luid ear'_y learned to regard his fellow exile as a being of a nature superior to that of the race to which he belonged; and it is probable, that the more he had reasoned with himself, the stronger had lecome his confidence in the opinions he entertained, until his zeal became such as to render his aid as valu- able to the white man, as the service in which we have seen the fair chihl engaged. With his daughter, the white exile had scarcely been more confident than with tlu' Indian; and she believed herself ca- pal)le of performing any labour, and accomplishing any work which it was her father's pleasure to prescribe. Sometimes, the mysterious white man would converse w ith his daughter and the Indian, iqjon the happy condition of the civilised inhabitants of the world, who u.ight well appear to a savage to be a race of celestial descent; and at other times he would discourse upon those sub- jects best adapted to impi'css the imagi- nation of an Indian, or the enthusiastic fancy of a child. And sometimes, he would imitate the example of the early teachers of the religion which hi* professed, and clothe the moral which he taught, in the dress that most simply explained, and most powerfuUj- impressed the truth; and, often, he would excite his apt scholars to active virtue by such alle- gories as most strongly wrought upon the Inuigination and the heart. lie would prefigure the unseen world, by such types and signs in the naturnl objects around them, as effect equally the fancy of the aged and the young, and then dwell upon the happiness of the just, with his impres- sion concerning the future condition of the slothful and the wicked. If proofs of his power were A\anting, he made occasion to employ the knowledge which \ve have statecl, lu' had acquired by observation, in displaying his apparent pov.er over sensible objects. The cir- cumstance alone of his being able to tell when the tides would be at their highest 1 of the red tribe^ o; yet all this ho Indians of either r motions in com- or many years ; and e, and in some por- ibour in accommo- with no less naste I companion. But time they became with each others adapted to instil of a savage, that learned to regard being of a nature race to whicli he irobable, that tin; with himself, tlie his confidence in inod, until his zeal ler his aid as vain- as the service in fair child engaged. he white exile had )nfident than with 'lieved herself ca- any labour, and k v\ Inch it was her scribe. terious white man b daughter and the condition of the the world, who savage to bo a nt; and at other upon those sub- iress the imagi- tlie enthusiastic met imes, he would le early teachers protessed, and he taught, in the explained, and ssed the truth ; excite his apt .10 by such alle- wronght upon the >rt. lie would Id, by such types 1 objects around the fancy of the tlnm dwell upon with his impros- uro condition of ked. were \\anting, he the knowledge had acquired by ng his apparent yects. The cir- being able to tell at their highest THE RRD IXniAXS OP NKWFOUXDLAND and lowest, would have boon sufficient to establish his claims to knowledge above that which is human; but, his acquaint- ance with the laws, by which the changes in the atmosphere, in that climate, are governed, was tho stronghold of his pre- tensions to supernatural power. Thus, he had been able to foresee the tempest which raged with such violence, beneath the region they inhabited, on the da)- of the Indian sacrifice. The very hour, indeed, of the offering, although the apparent result of fortuitous circum- 8 i stances, he Imu hiins(>lt had some itiliueiuc in determining, and was prepared to (;x- pect, from the information he had acquired, through the instrumentality of the red man, who, since the success of tho visi(m of thfl council-hall, in which ho had been engaged with Adalie unseen, had become so confident in the result of every thing Clanned by tlie white man, that no had eon able to accomplish enterprises, in which the hardiest warrior would have feared to engage. Shahdac, we have said, vn'as aware that 18 OTTAWAII, THE LAST CHIEF OF he inhabited the very mount upon which the angel of his tribe was supposed to dwell. The father of Adalie, indeed, early discovered this advantaj^e in his position, through his inrjuiries of the red man con- cerning the religious history of his coun- try; and be was confirmed in the correct- ness of what he had learned, by tl>e cantion he observed to Tir"^^"'' with the hunting parties of Ind; aever approached beyond certain . ids, and never re- mained within the vicinity of the moun- tain after the sun went down. The more he reflected, however, the more he doubted whether the period had arrived, when it was necessary to make such disclosures to his fellow inhabitants of the mountain concerning himself, as he had long contemplated, lest the new, and, doubtless, more shrewd tenant of the cavern, might be induced too nicely to examine the evidence of his supernatural power. But he determined to fee governed by the turn of the circumstances that should arise ; and he was prepared for his interview with his two aids in tiis myste- rious purposes, as they together entered the apartment in which he sat, " Come near me, Adalie," said he to his child, as she approached, " sit by my side; and you Shahdac," he added, ad- dressing the red man, " sit before us on the ground, as thou art accustomed to do, with thy ^ack towards the entrance of the cavern. I have much to say to thee. I may have more confidence to repose in tnee.' Thy faithfulness hath been tried. Thou hast courage too; and skill bejond the warriors of thy tribe. They seek knowledge from the beasts of the desert, which to-day they converse Avith, and consult — to-morrow destroy. Thou shalt yet learn things of which thpu dveamest not. i have qippli to teach thee— thou art no longer a savage. T}«0!» hast spen my power, and thou hast Witnessed tb'e success of the work in w^iph ^)»0l^ t|»y- self hast been an active agent, ^e atten- tive, be diligent, be ready." " And thou, my child, thou hast well fulfilled thy early promise. I will no longer conceal from thee all retjuisite knowledge. Be but what thou art, ray daughter. The land thou hast seen in thy dreams thou shalt touch. Thou shalt see men like thy father, and thou shalt see women, such as was thy mother. Thy habitation upon this lone and sterile mountain shalt thou exchange for a dwel- ling such as I have told thee thy fathers inhabited in the midst of the fruitful plain. Thou shalt no longer climb the barren rock, but shalt dwell in the fertile vales, where the earth produces such delicious fruits and food as yet thou knowest not. The day is not distant. But, my child — and it is time that I asked thee — how was it with thee yesterday, when thou didst perform the great task I frescribed? Was thy strength equal, as foretold, to even more than the work assigned to thee?" " Even so, my father," said the fair child. " Once only, when thick darkness and flashes of fire w^rp about me, and the rocks sho^tjeneath my feet, and the red warriors ft^ *P t]\H', to the (•( U of the \\\U\vv vWwi ol'thc red tvilic. IU> i\mnil the vnuiif!; Imlinn nlnMidy scatoil uimu th(> si(U> of his rouoh with his vyi's n\»>(l \\[H\\\ ihc viiuuls liot'oiv hiii\, ami mipiiroudv still (no n\iu'h Kist in i\s tonishiuoiit to I'oinpn'lifnd his rouditioii. Tho j-outh (liii not iK'JVt'iM' tho white exile's iipjM'oach. Then the nhitc ni«n thns spolu'. " Yoni>t>' wanior," •^aiil l\e, " I have coiuolove-assnii' thee of (hv ha|>ii\ estate. I pereplve ihy sniprise; Imt he not eoi\ foiiii(K'(l. This is no vision that (hou he- holdest. I'artake of what is hefove thee. thv dieiiiits i'.ave eonfnsed thy senses. The visiinis, whieh thou haat seen, ha\e now melted aw av, like a mist hefoie the heams of the visli\g sni\; and the elouds a»\d (huUness whieii eneomjmssed the moiinti'.ln, h»\e _\ ielded to the still f;loiv of uhrij^hl andjo\ous da v." 'Ihe youth, wlio reniamed seated anon the hetv at\ei' the huliaw fashion, had hioked steadfastly npon the white man as he sjioUe; ami now in seemini; to re- enll the emiverse that he had held with the tuvisihle iiiessenncv in the night, thns addresseil him. " Alt tliou then, the Spirit of the Monittain," said he, " In the forin that thou didst \>ioinis(> to eommntte with ntortai men ; and is all a moelui y V and lie not the red warriors nnhnried nj«on the pluin? th', wonldst thon felieilale a red matt that he stands alone that his IK'ojde are swept awayV I'nreal or in\ imnlal Uein^,! If thon art of the liood Hniril, speak again V Where is the mes- senger of the Hligel of the red trilu' -the spirit thaleondnetedntetw (his nnmnlainV" "My red ehihl," said the white nutn, "tho\i remendieresl well the evei\ts of yesternight. Hnl not a warrior has mllen. iMtawah, the ehief and father of his people, li\es. It is good l\ir thee that thon hast aseemled the saered movintain. Thon art in Ihe piesenee of the repre wenlalive of the Dreat Spirit. It is he that has snnnnon'^d thee, lie hath re- served for thee a great wmk. There is need that thon shoiddst emhraee the Bcrviee of the angel of thy irihe. 'l'h\ reward will he great the freedon\ of tin iionntry, there estnhlishmetit of tin- gian denr of the red raee. Tlnannnsl »enMni\ in Ihe mountain for a senstui, Nothing further will perplex thee. Though e\il ipirlts should ride njiou the wii\ds, and hurl llghliiiug and ihumhr tipon the earth, and tin iigh the storm shake the IiIUb to their fonudatloUH, yet, huiiuut ai\d ft>»»hl;> n» thou art, the teifors of the tempest will not he felt by thee. All that is evil Is luueath thy feet. " Hut thou wonldst again see the aerial messenger that eondneteil thee to the monnlain. Thon shalt converse with thy guide ii\ auothei sen\l»lanee." Tlte white man waited ttot for a reply; hut smldeuly lelt tlie eell of the young Indian, lie soon, however, ve-eutereil, aeeompaided hy his ilunghter. As the lord of the movintain led the willing agetit of his designs inti> the presem'e of their now more eonvpo"—! gn"st, he hade her talk familiarly with Ine \oung warrior, and iiwite Idm to i>artalu> oV refrtshinent, and then to lead l\inv into the open air, ami familiarize hiM\ with the iM'eeii\ets (>f the eaverns and, having thus instnu'ted her, he retired; and Adalie eagerly prepared to oliey his eonn\uu\d-i. I'he Indian had ga/eil upon the maiden with intt'i\se interest, as site approaehed his eoneh. The fairohjeel of his iiitere.st was now eiollied, as wa^ visual with her when emitlned to Ihe eaverii. in n rohe of hleaelu'd deer skin hound hy a firing of smiill shells ahout her neek, mioiv which it loosely turned. Her hair, whieh was parted in front, and thrown helviud her ears, hung in natural tresse.s viver her shoulders, and upon her m>ek; while a hand ahoul the waist prefenled the eou- eeahneut rather lluin adorned Ihe perfect ligure which she exhihlled, of exlreine youlh, just giving idace to the more emv- iirnicd la'auties ot her sex. lint if the hum of Adalie was perfect, the heaul V of her ligure hore iu» eounmri- son lo the lovelineas of her ri'garvls when she smile. I, and the fon'e of the con- tiding Icnderuess which her sot\ blue eye lining icmicruess wiiic at all limes c\pressed. V The while maiden and Ihe red youth had indei'd now fairly exehaiiged eyes. The ex|iressiou of Ahlomah'scounienamaf was that of admiration, sni prise that vtf /Vdi'lic's, conl\isiou. Unt ihcy wvre not long silent. " .\ud art thou linn d' lleslv ad blood, falrsecuiing siiiritl'" said the Indian. " Docs the red water of life. Indeed, IhiW in those delicate \einsi'" "Mra\e Indian," replied tho mnideii, " I, at least, am no more than a mortal \\h Ihou art, and no spiril. My father Is of another race, and has power over the Icmciils, and knowledge, which mere mortals 'Minnol altaiu. I am hut Ihe mes- senger of his Willi and, when he reipilrvw ihescrvlciM of his willing aid, 1 obey his high behests, and can perl'nnu all tliliiKR that he coiiiniHiulH." (> fi'll K thee. All ih tl\V tlH't. Hi iigniii soo tho noiial uiluotoil thiM* to the shalt cowviTsi' with \ siMuliliuioe." iiiti'il luit riUMV fi'i*!}-; he ofll of thi' yi>\niB however, le-euteieil, (laughter. I»e moviwtaii' led the l\is designs into the now more eoniiio^"'.' (alU rmuiliiirlv with 1', ii\ul invite Itini to mnt, luul then to lead iiir, imd t'an\ili)U'ize inels of the etivern; i\»strueted hei', he eiigerly itrt>|»ared to \\f.v\\ nuou lh(> nndden it, lis sne nmnoaehed rolijeet of his interest s was usual with her le eiivern, in n rohe of lionud l>v rt siring of iiM nei'K, npon whieh Her hair, whieh wivh il llirown hehind her Hill tresses over her n her neek; whih' h 't iirerented the eon- I lulornetl the perfeet xhiliited, of extreme lace to the more cou- cr se\. f y\dalie was jHirfeet, [lire hore no eomnari- lesfi of her regards the fore',' of the eon- ieli her sol\ bine eye I. 1 and the red youth In exehanged e\eH. loinah's t'onntt'iiuuee m, snuniHe that of Hut ilu'y were not |n if llesh ad hlood, aid the Indian, of life, iiuleed, How Is?" hplied the maiden. I>re than a mortal an jil. My father Is of lis power oM'r the ledne, which mere I iiin lint (he meM- II, when he reqiiiias |liiig aid. i oliey \\\» l|ierforin all tliluKR TUK HKl) INntVNS OP IN i;\VFOliN»>I.ANlV U.'t M "Thy father?" said the liuUau:"and art thou then the laughter of the divinity i.\[' the mountain?" " I am the child of him, whom thou hast seen," said Adalie;"lml there will he time to speak of jhal hercalter. 'riiou hast not eaten thy luoruing lepasl. Wlicn thou hast partiiUen of these viands, we will speak of all that it eoncerns thee to know. " A red man,". said the Indian, "slionld not eat hefiue he has performed his ador- ation to the Spirit of the I'liiverse, or to his image in tlie sky." " Come, then," said the maiden, as she took the youth hy the hand, "and I will lead thee to tlic light of duy." 'I'lie Indian Uviw thus accompanied hy Adalie, s',"iilly saw engaged iu the \>erl'oriuauee of the menial otUces of the cavern, gftvw little oeciision for their new guest's fur- ther \)crplexit\ concerning him; ftU' other and stronger objeels of interest, or eansps of doubt excluded every minor retleetion from his mind. Thus ;lie wbole party were now assetn- liled in the grand apartment of t!ie t'avi'ru, where the t'amiliar discourse of lli" exile, the tenderness of Adalie, and the atten- tions of Shahdae, soon taught tiieir gnesi • o forget the fearful awe, with whiili he bad so lately regarded the white nnvn, and prepared the way for fiirlher pro- gress. It became now the policy of the white man, to engage the youthful stranger, as ^oon as possible, in sneli oeenpalion a*; should at once be congenial to an Indian's feelings, ami adapted to excite his curious interest. riiiis they passed the rest of thai dav. in (he most snilable of their employmenls in (he eavcni. The whi(e man, assiilcd by (he young warrior, whose interest iu (lietr immediate concerns was soon exci(ed, prepared bows and arrows tor (he chase, wKli such improvements In (heir lldiess and adiipdon (o their several uses. If. he bad long a'.;o invented, and of which lie had often seen the elb'cts lbi( Siialnlae employed himself in preserving food, and in (lie menial services of the cavern; while Aduliu lu'enpied her tiiu« 24 OTTAWAH, THK LAST CHIEF OP in joining tho skins of bears, and of other animals for tho orn; nent or comfort of the apartment of their new guest. And in tho evening' they all sat down together, to listen to the discourse of tho mysterious lord, and presumed divinity, of the moun- tain. The father of Adalie now adapted his lesson to tho evident state of tho young Indian's mind, under the impressions which his first introduction to nu'n of another race, and his brief actpiiiintance with incidents so new, might be supposed to have made; and so deeply impressed was the young warriur with tlie disci lurse of the while I'xile, to which lie attentively listened, that had lie fallen into doubts respecting ids safety, or. the sacred character of tliose with whom he was so strangely associated, he would have re- canted his heresy before ho again closed his <(y(?s in sleep. Shahdae, too, recounted the history of those events, l)y which ho liimself had been so op| I'lunely broU!;iU faci' to face with the wliilc man, and bv which heJiap- pily became an inhabitant of the laouutiiiii, reserving ft)r the present, all the le.-s i'or- tunate jxirtiou of his story. Hut the sweet couverM! of Adalie above all ciiiiriued him; and as tiui day closed lit; retired agiiiii to liis cell, and slept tln'migh the night, undisturbed by llie couiiiNioii of ideas, which (in the previous night had distiu'beil Ids senses, aiul, for a lime, over- thrown iiis rciisuii. C'llAl'TKli IX. "tiuuit morro« totlic sun. lluilllimi, fiiii'li"nvoii!" ('V.MHI'.MNH. "'I'liry lly, or dio, likn pi-iili'd sciilli ]li>l'uru tho btlcliiiik' wliiiU'." Tuoii.es AND rRPSSIHA. With llie earli"st tnUens of diiy, llie uuiiden, aec(>m]ianieil l)y Shahduc, at llie coniiiiand oi' llu'uliilc exile, iigiiie en- tered tile cell wliieh w as occupied by their red guest. 'I'hey found the young Indian alretuly awaUe; and Adalie olVered him her hand, in sign of her lieing ready to conduct him once iiuu'c to the placi' of their mt)rning worsliip. The Indian arose, and tonk the hand of the maiijen; and the youthful pair now proceeded tugether to the mouth of the cavcM'ii -the while child, toolVer her direct worship to the Maker of all things; nnd the red man, to adore the same Spirit, in that bright and glad image of the beiie- licence and glory of the Creator, bel'ore w hicli he bowed the Knee. Their devotions being performed, they re-entered the cavern, and proceeded to their common chamber, where they found the father of Adalie seated, and awaiting their arrival, and Shahdac, busily occu- pied -.vith the preparations for their morn- ing repast, of which they now all sat down to partake. As soon as they had finished their early meal, ujxm this second day of tho young warrior's sojourn in the mountain, the white exile informed them, that some hours sport upon the beach must be the diversion of the day; and the proposal was gladly acceded to; and they all pre- pared to leave the cavern and dHscend to the sea shore. AVheii they left their mountain dwell- ing, the white man said, addressing him- self in particular to the young warrior, as he pointed towards the east, '* In that direction, beneath the sun, lies the scene of our sport; but thou canst not dis- lingnish the shore from this elc\ation. It lies beneath those light clouds, Mhich the mountain divides, as lliey rush against its sterile sides. We shall miss the sun. as we pass the mid-region in which these thick vapours eternally Hoiit. " And, ShahdMc," siiid he, turning to the more aged red nuiii: "bust thou the h!U'|)oon which was last made? the bows iind arrows also? And see that the bows l)t> well strung, and the arrows reiid\. And Adalie," sai same chunee, lest she should be too much ovcfreonio by her cing performed, they rn, and proceeded to ber, whore they found seated, and awaiting ihahdac, busily occu- ations for tlieirraorn- h they now all sat id finished their early nd day of the young n the mountain, the d them, that some 3 beaeh nnist he the y; and the proposal to; and they all prc- ivern and daseend to icir mounlain dwcll- aid, addressing him- tlu' ylHlllg^^ arrior, as tlu' east, " In tliat le siin, lies the scene hou I'UMst not (lis- frnni this eIe\ation. > liglit ckiuds, Mhich , as tliey rush against 'e siiall miss the smi. •cglon hi wliich these lly float. said lie, turning to um: " hast thou the ast miide? th(^ hdws .nd see that the bows the arrows rea(l\. , as he took the hand 1 near me, iu\ cliilil, the mists. K'or lh<' s hide tlieir heads to do, during the Thou art aelive, roug; and thou re- tliy natural t'niis said the maiden, t'iitlier's commands 1 I I'eari'd, I was •\i('(>. 1 saw him 1 his jiower. Mat le I performed thy U's of the tempest, u'Uts in eonunolion \y mind, when all u not protect, wore aot spol((>ii willuait iety. The wliite n so frightened by li'a prow ling bear, from the side of or father had de- Id m'\er again bn eluiiu'c, lest she overcome by her I' n^i 26 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OP eoast, were to be seen, seekinj? their food, or sporting on the shore ; and he had not been lonj^; upon the look-out before he communicated the welcome intelligence of sport in view. The young warrior, as it had been ar- ranged, now hastened to the scene; but the father of Adalie would remain where he sat with his daughter, until he could be relieved by the faithful Shahdac, by whom Adalie was ever protected in the absence of her father. Shahdac soon arrived, and received the injunctions that he was wont to receive from the white man, not to quit his daughter during his absence. Then the exile, whoso naturally keen appetite for sport had grown into a pa^ion, which was nOthhig diminished by age, forgetting his years, eagerly '. proteralea to join the young warrior, m a species ot' their ac- custome! diversion, which proved to bo of a somowlutt new character to both ; and as it was important in its consequences, as well in the present danger to which the loixi of the mountain was exposed, us in it» effects upon the opinions of his companions in exile concerning the nature and extent of liis relations with the spiritual world, it is proper to relate the circumstanceH Which attended the adven- ture. ■ '- • ■ • Almost wherever wo find a low and regular coast, tin waves of the ocean are, at a greater" of deer's hair, was wrenched from its fust hold In tho flesh of the struggling fish, and thi'own again and again, until streams of blood flowed from the side of the whale Uko jets of water dow 11 a rock, dyeing nll'ihe ma one rod oroimd him. Theri,liftii" tt little time, the blood deemed to haA"* coasofl to flow, and tho wounded animal lay (piite nuttionless, an if he wore al length overcome, an(l were dying. Alitom ii now dotonnined, in order to make siu'e of their conquest, to swim off to tlie whale, that with the tonuihaw k he might at once put an end lo the chances of ills escape, in case ho should revive as the title retiu'ned. This, however, tho father of Adalie would not permit him to iitt(Mnpt alone. And in the midst of his enthusiasm, the good nuin rememberwl not his nge; and, they plunged into tlu; sea together, and, iuivmg reached the whale, proceeded to deal such terrible strokes, with tho sptar and tomahawk. r; and, at the first THE RED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 27 against his side, as caused the blood again to flow in red streams down his dark skin. But tho sovereign of the deep, awakening as from a trance, more infuriated than ever, now spouted forth fresh foimtains of water mingled with blood, as again and again he attempted his escape, in plunging and floundering and flapping with his huge tail, until he raised a tumult iu the waters, that seemed suflicieut to dis- place the firm rocks which obstructed his passage to the open sea. Shahdac, who was well aware of the danger which at all times attended an at- tack upon any description of fish of the whale tribe iu its native element, had taken his station with Adalie, where he might observe the progress of tho com- bat; and he no sooner saw the assailants (if tiu' fearful animal plunge into the sea, than lie ran with all possible speed, and \vas followed by Adalie, to the scene of the dangei'ous sport. By the time they arrived, the extreme peril to which the white man and the young Indian were exposed, was quite apparent to Shahdac, and too evident to escape the knowledge of tho daughter of the exile. And now the attendant upon the white maiden forgetting, for a uiomont, even his sacred charge, plunged headlong into the sea, and was swimming against e\ei'y obstacle, to the assistance of the father of Adalie, when the shriek of the maiden struck suddenly upon his ears. The fair child, had herself, iu the frenzy of her fears for the safety of her father, quitted her footing upon the dry rocks upon which Shahdac had left her, and, immersed nearly to the shoulders in the water, she was exposed to the danger of being washed into the deep sea by the next wave that broke over the ridge of rocks that obstructed the passage ot tho whale into the open waters. As soon as Shahdac turned his head, at the cry of Adalie, he perceived the danger to which the white maiden was exposed. Then, remembering the injunc- tions of the exile, he hastened back to her assistance. And tho faithful Indian had siarcely rescued his fair charge from her perilous situation, when tho n\ai(len, over- come by her terrors, became sensr'loss in his arms. He succeeded, however, with- out great difticulty, in placing her in snfety ouco more upon the dry rocks be- yond tiu' reach of tho breaking seas. j\nd now he would have renewed his ellorts to relieve the exile, and the young red chief; but his wishes were in vuin; and, worn out by the exertion he lutd made, he sunk down in a state of ex- haustion, y^2' the side of Adalie, hcrdlv knowing wKether the maiden still breathed, o vhether her pure spirit had quitted its clay habitation, to unite with the shades of her fathers in the country of perpetual rest. In the meantime the white man and the young Indian had struggled with all their force against the perils that surrounded them ; and, for some time, their strength and skill seemed insufficient to disengage them from the danger to which they were exposed, and their efforts to be in vain, Tiie struggles of the young Indian, however, at length, prevailed; and he suc- ceeded in getting clear of the whirlpool of troubled waters that still threatened to overwhelm the white man, and now reached the shore without knowing anything of the fate of the father of Adalie. When the young Indian landed and observed the absence of the white man, he turned his head towards the scene of the dangers he had escaped; and he no sooner perceived his partner in neril still strugglmg amidst the whir^" i -Is and brol'.eu waters around him, t' n, forget- ting such subtleties as might have bewil- dered his senses, concerning the charac- ter of his companion in the dangerous sport, and checked his ardoui', he plunged again into the flood, in the hope of eftect- iug his deliverance. Shahdac and Adalie, did not remain long in the condition to which they had been reduced by the rash proceeding of the nuiiden; anci, as Adalie recovered her full consciousness, the young warrior was in the act of aiding his companion in peril in his efforts to disengage himself from the troubled waters. Thus, when she again perceived the dan- ger to which her father seemed exposed, she became bereaved of all control over her actions, and was only through force pre- vented by her faithful attendant, from plunging head-foremost into the foaming sea, which, in perhaps withdrawing the vnung warrior from his purpose, might have proved the cause of her father'.i destruclion, tiiough she should hersc.f have bc>pn saved. The father of Adalie, quite exhausted by his exertions, was on tho point of siniting, when the red youth came to his aid; and he would assuredly have perished, hud iu* remained without the succour of the young cliief. The struggle was long, and to tho aged attendant of Adalie, plainly, still ot doubtful issue. But while Shahdac re- strained tho rash attempts of Adalie, the senses of tho white puiiden again gave 28 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OF way to the cflfects of her alarm, and she lay once more in a state of insensibility in the arms of the faithful giiarciian of her safety. The red man now laid his fair charge in a place of pafoty upon the dry rock, and once more plunged into the water to essay again to roach the scene of danger; but his strength was insufficient to com- bat with the oroken waters; and had he not perceived the father of Adalic and his companion in perl!, already in the calmer sea, and received a signal from the young Indian to return to the shore, hejnight have perished in the attempt to efrect his generous purpose. At length, after their long and painful struggle amidst the broken and troubled waters, which were kept in continual agitation by the fearful animal that they had so unwittingly attacked in his own element, the white man and the j'oung warrior succeeded in escnping beyond the influence of the whirlpools and foam- ing waters (hat had obstructed tiu'ir endeavours, and finally reached the firm rocks, where the faithful Sliahdao now supported the unconscious Adalio in his arms. The boijily exertions, which the father of Adalio had luidergono, for a timc^ confused his senses; and his first iin- presii'on, when he saw his dauglUer's situation, was, that his beloved child had been killed b}' the same monster, from the effects of whoso terrible anger he had so miriieulously escaped. But, as he recovered his recollection, ho soon per- ceivjd her true situation; and, sinnnioning all his presence of mind, he now took up his daughter in his arms; and, followed by the Indians, he carried her to the firm land. As soon as they nrrived here, the father of Adalio now desired Shahdac to prepare some spruce boughs, upon which, when they had adapted (hem to the purpose, they laid the maiden; and in the state of insensibility in Mhich she re- mained, they conveyed her to their moun- tain habitation, and placed her upon her own bed. CIIArTER X. " Neither nrt thou fho worse For till* poor furniture, ami mean array. " Tamino I'ltB BjinKW. " 'TU rather like .1 tlream tlian an assurance That my rcmuiubranee warrants." Tempest. The sleeping npartmeni of the cavern, ex- clusively appropriated to the accommoda- tion of Adalie, was planned with great regard to comfort, and no neglect of such degree of ornament as the situation of the tenants of the mountain enabled them to obtain and displaj'. Like the rest of independent chambers, it was formed by walls of stone, which had occupied much time in nicely adjusting; and the door was of a kind of wicker-work manufactured by the hand of Shalulac, and swung on hinges of wood, with a latch like that of a cottage in Europe. The furniture wb.ieh it contained was neither scanty nor even inelegant. There was an ample couch of th:* same manu- facture as the door; and, upon this wan placed the most luxurious feather bed, and coverings of double skins of the deer, well softened and stutTed with down. Over these, at this season, were laid light coverings of the fur of the squirrel neatly joined togetlier; while larger quilts of b'^ar skin hung in reserve for winter. The curtains were made of fine bleached deer skins, of tin' substance of those of which the dress of Adalio was for the most part composed, and decorated with furs of various colours, tastefully adjusted. Mats of fur were also placed by the side of the bed, and mats of rushes at the entrance of the chamber; and shells were neatly arranged in double rows round the base of the walls, while some of the larger sort were placed upon tlic ground at the corners of the eoucn. There was also a little armed chilli's seat, which had been constructed by Shahdac, imder the superin tendance of the white exile, and used by Adalie in her infant daj's, and especially preserved by her, as a memorial of the first service done for her by her faithful attendant, and second protector. The first moment of conscious existence which Adalie experienced, after the efltcts of her fears for the safety of her father, was on the morning after the perilous adventure, which had been the cause of her sufferings. The exile's anxiety on account of his child had been intense. lie had watched her during the entire night; but he was well aware of the dan- ger to be apprehended, shcudd slie sud- denly return to a state of consciousness, and first cast her ejes upim her parent, on whose account she had suffered, and whom she might believe to be now an inhabitant of that world of spirits of which he had so often discoursed to her, and concerning which, no less than of his own nature, she ent<'rtained ideas too indistinct, to check the course of any violent impulse, which the confused re- planned witli great d no neglect of sucli 5 the situation of the lin enabled them to Like the rest nf 3, it was formed by lich had occupied adjusting; and the id of wicker-work hand of Shahdac, 's of wood, with a cottage in Europe. I it contained was •n inelegant. There •f th:! same nianu- Lud, upon this wat; irious feather bed, uble skins of the and Rturtcd with at this season, lonscious existence ed, after the eflects 'ty of her father, fter (h(! perilijiis been the cause of xile's anxiety on had been intense, during the entire aware of the dan- should siie sud- of consciousness, upon her parent, had suffered, and >ve to be now an irld of snirits of liseoursea to her, 10 less than of his tained ideas too le coui'so of nny the confused re- TIIi: lllil) IXUIANS OF XEV.FOUNDLAND. 29 collect ion of the scenes of yesterday migh' naturally be expected to produce. Adal e, too, had now slept several hours trauc^uilly, and the happy return of lier healtl y state of mind, might be expected upon her awaking. Shahdac, therefore, now watched near the couch of the maiden, that he might be at hand to administer to her wants, and soothe and tranquillize her mind, whenever she should awake. Long a^fter the usual time of her rising, Adalie awoke from her tranquil sleep. At first, she fixed her eyes, with a look of vacancy, upon her faithful attendant. In a moment, however, she seemed to recollect herself, and suddenly exclaimed, » Where is my father?" " Your father is in his own chamber, but I scarce think he is yet awake," said Shahdac, immediately, in obedience to his instructions. "Alas! Shahdac," said the white maiden, " I have dreamed of things too terrible to remember, and they are too much con- founded one with another to pennit me to give any account of them now; but I thank the God, whom we worship, that I am awake. Call my father to me— call him, kind Shahdac— I cannot rise: and I wish to tell him of my troubled dream." Shahdac now retired; and the father of Adalie soon entered the tliamber of his child; and, with a cheerful coun- tenance, ho approached the bod upon which she lay. " O! my dear father," said Adalie, rais- ing herself, and throwing her arms around the good man's neck, as he seated himself beside her, " I never before saw anything so fearful in sleep, as the shadows that have appeai'ed to me during the past night. Visions of many horrors have Iassed before my mind in sleep. I thought met a young and homeless Indian youth, ana brought him in pity to our cavern. I loved him, and nourished and comforted him; but, like a traitor, he enticed my father from the bounds of the mountain, and caused a monster of the ocean to devour him. I thought he car- ried thee away, my father, and destroyed thee, that he might violate the hoinor of thy child. But now, and I was in this wicked red man's power — entwined in his arms, forgive me. I remember no more." 'i Mv sweet child," said her father," you must sleep again: you have been ill. 'Itike this warm draught, which I have pre- pared for thee: it will subdue any fever that remains. Thou wilt sleep again, and awake from more healthful dreams. Thou shouldst bo better, Adalie, before thou exertcst thyself to speak more." The obedient child, drank otf the me- dicine which her father had prepared; and, as soon as she again closed her eyes, her skin became moist, and drops of per- spiration were visible upon her pale fore- head; and, as these effects of the simple remedies appeared, the exile was on'-- more relievea from his excess of anxiety, and reassured against the painful suspense which would have attended protracted fever. In the joyful hope, then, of his daughter's speedy restoration to per- fect health, the good man took his place by the side of his child, with the determination to watch the progress of his apparently already successful specific. When Adalie again opened her eyes, she looked, for some time, steadfastly upon her parent, then raised herself, and put her arms about his neck, and wept with such natural and constant sobs, as assured him of her convalesencc, and of tlie perfect return of her reason, if not her recollection up to the time she had become insensible in the arms of Shahdac. The exile attempted to speak to his child; but his voice failed him, by reason of his delight. But he pressed her to his bosom, with a parent's excess of tender- ness and perfect joy. " I know enough," said the white midden, " my beloved parent is saved. The monster has not harmed him. — But art thou well, my father?" The exile now assured his daughter of his escape from every consequence that mi"ht have attended the fatigues he had undergone ; and ''cn he had more calmly embraced h is chil .the father and daugh ter regarded each other, for some time, in fiilence; then, Adalie, with tremulous voice, and visible anxiety, thus interro- gated her parent. " Yet I cannot," said the fair maiden, " quite distinguish between the perils of yesterday, and the horrors of my dream. The young Indian. — Is he no traitor? Lives he, or has he perished?" "lie lives, my child," said the exile. " His courage, and the strength of his youth- ful ami " — but here the father of Adalie paused. Ho would have said — "liave preserved thy father." But the indica- tions of quick expectancy, which, at that moment, lie saw written upon the counte- nance of his daughter, reminded him of the necessity of more reserve, than, un- der the feelings, indeed, which suggested the confession, it was easy to preserve; but, he concluded by saying, rather — 30 OTTAWA!!, THE LAST CHIEF OF " have proved him worthy of thy father's respect and regprd." Adalie again wept upon the neck of her fond parent. But she soon recovered her composure; so that her father was able to explain sufficiently clearly' to her, the manner in which their perils liad ended, and by diverting her thoughts into calmer channels, entirely to subdue ever}' symptom of mental or bodily derange- ment, which her natural fears had pro- duced. In the enjoyment then of this interchange of parental and filial tender- ness, and in mutual congratulations con- cerning the happy termination of tlie fearful adventure, which had been the cause ef Adaliu's sufferiiigs, and had so nearly bereaved her of her only pai'ent, we must leave the father and child, while we make the reader acquainted with tlu; effects of the untoward occurrence, upon the mind of their J'oung Indian guest. CHAPTER xr. "Modest doubt is enll'd The beacon of tlio wise." TROILUS AJTE ('Kr.fiSIDA. " Tlio mist that hung about my mind rlenrs up." Addison. AiTF.u Adalie had been safely conveyed to her chamber, in the state in which she had fallen, at the view of her father's danger, the youthful Indian, of whom we have for a moment lost sight, instead of retiring to his own cell, sought the soli- tude of the most sequestered spot ho could attain within the vicinity of the cavern, that he might alone indulge in those thoughts which the time suggested, and by which his senses were bewildered, and his spirits oppressed. There, he be- lieved, he might apart, reflect more freely upon the strangeness of what he had ex- perienced, and its apparent inconsistency with his opinion of the supernatural f lower of the white man, whom he had so ately reverenced as a deity in human form, and of that of his fair child, but yesterday a spirit, to day, a weak and in- capable mortal, if, indeed, she were yet alive. " What," said ho, as he sat upon a lonely rock and gave utterance to his feelings, " am 1 then the preserver of the life of the angel of my tribe? Great Spirit of the Universe! can thy represen- tative perish? Hast thou limited his existence, as well as the bounds of his power? I looked to his arm for help, when peril came; but, behold, he was weaker than I, who am the feeblest of my tribe." Then, recalling again the form and courage of Adalie, upon the night of the storm, he fell into complaints against himself for his impious unbelief. " It must be so," said he, " the angel of the red tribe could not die. His spirit is of another race, and must still have in- habited the mountain. Pei'haps he would attest the strength of my faith, try the measure of nij' confidence in his celestial character; for, whence did this arm re- ceive the force which it never knew till now? Could I, when exhausted by the struggle for life, have returned and borne a i-cd man to the shore? In the midst of the foaming waves too, he did not fear." Then, after n pause, he continued, "Yet the sight if the white maiden, when we reached .ho firm rocks, moved him even to t'-'ar.s. It was a scene that would have dii^graced the meanest among red men. The youngest warrior woidd have shamed to have fallen on his face and wept, had his parents, his children, the partner of his bosom, fallen at one fell stroke of the tomahawk of his enemies. And yet, as I bore her up the \k th, he gathered some hevbs, ami said, 'It is well: before to- morrow's sun shall gain the mid-heavon, and accomplish the first half of his day's course, Adalie shall appear in all her wonted energy and beauty. She shall take of the juice of these plants, and the flower of life shall again bloom. Though she be dead, she shall live.' And as we reached the mouth of the cave, he placed her on the ground, and standing over her, and stretching forth his hands towards the flaming torches with which the Great Spirit lights his celestial dwelling, in the absence of the sun, he uttered a few words in a tongue unknown on earth, and then looked upon his child and smiled. But I will not remain in suspense. To-morrow the mysterious father shall resolve my doubts: his child's recovery shall be the test of his divinity." Then he added, "Let my mind rest: and you, bright flames of eternal fire, by whoso light the Great Spirit of the Uni- verse overlooks his whole creation, wit- ness against me, if Ahtomah possess any passion save his love of his tribe, any motive of life, greater than his hopes of the I'estoration of the glory of his fallen people." After these reflections, the young In- dian ent'<''ed the cave; and, avoiding any encount vith the white man, he sought the solitude of his own chamber; and as soon as he had stretched himself on his couch, he fell into a tranquil sleep. Fatigued by his bodily exertion, the youthful warrior slept soundly during Adalie, upon the ill into complaints impious unbelief. 10, " the anfj^el of lie. His spirit is list still have in- Perhaps he would my faith, try the ce in his celestial (lid tliis arm ro- t never knew till exhausted by the turned and borne In the midst of he did not fear." ! continued, "Yet naidcn, when we moved liim even ! that would have among red men. ndd have shamed ce and wept, had n, the partner of fell stroke of the i. And yet, as I le gathered some well: before to- the mid-heaven, half of his diiy's jear in all lier uty. She sliall 2 plants, and the )loom. Though e.' And as we cave, he placed anding over her, hands towards which the Groat dwelling, in the ired a few words earth, and then smiled. But I i. To-morrow all resolve my y shall be the my mind rest: eternal fire, by rit of the Uni- creation, wit- %h possess any his tribe, any an his hopes of •y of his fallen THE RED IXDIAN3 OF XKWFOUXUL.VXD. 31 the first watches of the night; but he awoke at an early hour. As soon as he recovered his recollection, his first thought was of Adalie's condition and of the cir- cumstances which had shaken liis faith in the divinity of her father; but he remem- bered his resolution to make the issue of Adalie's condition the test of his faith, and of his trust or mistrust in the pro- mises of his mysterious host. As he lay reflecting on Lhe events of yesterday, Shahdac entered his cell to in- form him, that the accustomed hour of their rising had arrived, and that their morning repast v^as prepared. " And how is the fair daughter of the white man?" said the youth. "Is she still alive?" " The great and good Spirit bo adored," answered Shahdae, " she is quite well." " Then," said the Indian, within liim- self, " is this in truth the angel of the mountain. The representative of the Spirit of the Universe." " And she looks fresher," added Shah- dac, " than before. That pale cheek from which you last night turned away with feelings that even Shahdac, a red man, could not fully comprehend, is clianged; and the daughter of the Lord of the Mountain has again the same tinge upon her features, which, when we de- scended the mountain, seemed to indicate a red source — seemed to proclaim that tlie blood, at least, which runs in the blue veins beneath her white skin is indeed red." " And her white father?" said the young Indian. " He but embraces his daughter more warmly than usual," replied Shahdac, " I will come to the outer cavern then," said the future chief of the red tribe. " Mhie own eyes shall behold them, and I will believe." AVhen the young warrior now appeared in the outer chamber of the cavern, he found the father and daughter seated in their ordinary manner upon the ground; for it was only, as before observed, when the white man chose to suspend his ac- customed familiarity, and discourse upon subjects above the ordmary topics by wiiich mountaineers are wont to beguile their leisure hours, or when he would give instructions concerning any impor- tant service that he required to be per- formed, that he seated himself above the companions of his more familiar hours. When Adalie saw tlie young Indian enter, she involuntarily sprung upon her f 'et, and would have embraced aim, as she was wont to embrace her father, had not her parent, in a tone of authority and in his own tongue, reminded her of what he had before taught her, concern- ing the restraint upon her actions, which the delicacy of her sex demanded. Some expressions of natural feeling, however, escaped the lips of the maiden, though they seemed not to be responded to, and were probably not heard by the yonthfiil warrior to whom they were addressed. The father of Adalie, and the young Indian now exchanged civilities that were not unlike those which take place ia civilized society, when obligations have been inopportune, or inordinate, and have unexpectedly bound the aged or affluent to the youn{; or the needy. It was like one of thoi.e occasions when artificial manners seem to suspend or restrain the original impulse of the heart; and for natural kindnc^, on the one side, to sub- stitute that moroseness which attends upon false and strained ideas of propriety, in a heartless estimate of the social ties and obligations of men to one another; while on the other side is seen the mien and manner which a secret mistrust in the sincerity of those with whom we ex- change civilities is ever attended. But nothing could be further from the Indian's thoughts, than an undue, or than even a warranted sense of the obligations under which he had laid the inhabitants of the mountain; nor was the white man so ungenerous, as mear'y to estimate the important service he had received at the hands of his guest. The demeanour and restrained conversation of the Indian ori- ginated in his late doubts concerning the character of his host ; while the reserve and apparent indifference of the white man proceeded but from the necessity of maintaining his influence, or regaining the ascendancy, which he might have lost, over the mind of the red man, with the difficulty of ascertaining the effects of the scenes of yesterday, upon those im- pressions which he knew had existed, and which he deemed it so essential to preserve. It was a painful trial for the father of Adalie to sit face to face, in the same apartment, with one to whom he, in reality, owed his life, but to whom he could not express the fealings which his nature prompted him so strongly to de- clare. But after a short lapse of time, Adalie, and the young Indian began to converse familiarly; and the father of the maiden was thus relieved from a portion of his embarrassment; and as the friontl- ahip at least of the young Indian and his ^ r 32 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OV daughter was one of the means by which he hoped to arrive at the ends he designed, he no sooner perceived their more fami- liar discourse, than he arose, and saying, only, "Converse freely, my children, after a moment's absence I will return," he left the common apartment of the cavern accompanied by the faithful Shah- dac. CHAPTER XII. "And, heneeforth, let bU things be In common." HBuaic \I, When Adalie, and the young Indian, found themselves no longer restrained by the presence of the more aged tenani i of the cavern, they conversed togetlier without further reserve. "Delicate Adalie," said the Indian, after a few minutes had elapsed, " but tor thy white father's power, thou hadst been ere this, a shade more subtle than the air. Or perhaps thy spirit has already visited the country of departed warriors, and, at thy father's bidding, returned to reanimate this fair form. Rememberest thou aught of yesterday ? — Hast thou seen nothing of the world, which in our mortality we may not behold?" "Brave Ahtomah," answered Adalie, "I remember my dreams of the past night. They were not of the dead, but of the living. They were chiefly of th'^?, good Indian. I thought that thou wet guilty of impossible crimes — of wicked- ness thoucouldst not commit; but, awak- ing I find thou art what I believed yes- terday, when I saw thee contending with waves, and regardless of life, so that thou mightest perform such an act as would become a warrior of thy tribe." "I understand thee, fair daughter of another race," said the youth. "All simple that I am ; indeed, I thought thy father in danger; but he made but a trial of my fidelity; for, no sooner did he give me his right arm, than it communicated more than mortal strength, and we reached the shore with the ease, that we might have crossed a narrow and tranquil lake. But of what further didst thou dream?" " My visions were still of thee, and still to the effect that Ihavetold thee, generous Indian," replied the maiden. " In sleep, indeed, I thought that thou wert a traitor ; but awake, I find thee a warrior, than whom none can be so fit to rule over the hapjty land which is destined to be sub- ject to thy command. After the days of thy sojourn in the mountain, I shall see thee re-establish the ancient glory of thy race. But I talk as on», who had power over the fate of thy nation, rather than as the weak and fearful agent of the Lord of the Mountain, whose power thou hast seen. Yet have I oft been the instrument in the hands of him whom the elements obey." " Thou hast spoken wisely my child," said the exile, as, in re- ei.tering the cham- ber, he heard the last observations, which had fallen from the lips of his daughter: "Ahtomah shall restore his depressed people. The days of our sojourn in the mountain shall bo few." The inhabitants of the cavern, and their guest, now mingled in common discourse; and as soon as the sun had reached that point of his day's course, where the shade of the upper table of the mountain fell upon the platform rock at the mouth of the cave, they sought thu open air, and now seated themselves in front of their lofty habitation, in face of the eastern sea. The time and place, and the disposition of all minds, seemed to favour the labours of the white man; and to his attentive audience, he now delivered one of those discourses, upon the happy condition of the inhabitants of the country beyond the rising sun, by which he was wont to de- light, and excite the interest of his com- panions in exile. At the same time, the mystery which he mingled with all lie taught, served to raise the reverence with which he had inspired the new tenant ol' the mountain, and eonlirm the confidence of the young Indian in his influence and power. The lesson of the father of Adalie being ended, the mountaineers past the remain- der of the day which succeeded that of the adventure of fiu beach, in v.arious discourse concerning the more ordinary pursuits in which they engsin-ed. On the next day, when thb party had finished their early repast, the lord of the mountain, alter he had taught for a time, desired the Indian to relate some of the enterprises of war and the chase in Avhich he had taken a part; and the youth now gave many details of the exploits of his companions in adventure, with such modest allusion to his own share in the heroic act'ons which he related, as filled his hearers with equal admiration and delight. By this means the white man acquired a knowledge of the exact relutions that at this time existed between the contend- ing Indian tribes; and the curiosity of Shahdac was gratified in hearing what had passed since his residence in the ;rest of bis com- same time, the ed with all lie e reverence witli the new tenant of n the confidence lis iniluenco and mountain; while Adalie was excited to the highest degree of admiration of the bold and generous youth, of the true fea- tures of whose character she had already seen sufficient proof. The white man was well aware of the doHiinant passion of an Indian; and lie took care to make frequent allusion to the European arts of war and civil govern- ment, which enabled him artfully to stamp an impression upon the young warrior's mind, of the advantage of opening, if pos- sible, a friendly intercourse with white men. At the same time he endeavoured to enlarg(! and improve the understand- ing of the young Indian, by the discovery of such wonders in natural science, as their situation gave him the best oppor- tunities of explaining; for in almost every branch of liuov.'ledge, he possessed a fair portion of the information which the age afforded. It was a part of his policy, indeed, to instil so much love of knowledge into the mind of the youth, while in the moun-. tain, as might the better enable him gra- 34 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OF dually, to pain the saino iniliioiu-o, by legitimate means, which he had obtained by that of more (piestionablc justice, and the effects of which were of more doubt- ful durability. The growing curiosity of the Indian was perceptible, and the exile continued his discourses at intervals; but, before they retired to rest, he informed his com- panions of th^ mountain, of his wishes concerning the employments of the fol- lowing day. " And now," said he, when he had finished his last discourse, " remember, my children, that with the first gh^am of light upon the waters in the east, we must bo upon the opposite side of the moun- tain. We will hunt the bear, or the wolf, or the deer, to-morrow. Shahdac, thou shouldst rise early. See that the bows and arrows are ready before thou sleepest. The sun will rise, and go down to-morrow over the mountain and the plain in a cloudless sky. And Adalie, my child," he continued, " it is time for thee to re- tire to thy apartment. Ahtomah knows his chamber. Shahdac has trimmed our lamps. Sleep well my children. We shall have abundance of sport on the mor- row, and return to the cavern full of joy. The white exile was not deceived in his opinion concerning the effects of his discourses; for the young Indian was now stronger than ever impressed with the belief of his supernatural powers, and his divine character. And the Lord of the Mountain retired to bis sleeping apart- ment, with more lively inipressions than over concerning his clestL.y, and full of expectations of the early fuffihnent of his hopes, and the termination of all bis cares. CHAPTER Xm. " The bow is bont and dra^7n." IClXG Lfar. " This Is the tliird man (hat e'er I saw ; the first That e'er I siRlied for : iiity move my father To be inclined ray way." 1 , Tempest. Agreeaulb to the pro'jJosition of the exile, before the dawn of the fol- lowing day, the tenants of the cavern all assembled in the larger apartment of their mountain dwelling. And when they had partaken of their early meal, they came from their secure retreat, ancl quickly repaired, with their bows and arrows, and their tomahawks, to the western side of the mountain, as the most abounding in the beasts of chase of which they were in search. As they passed through the usually misty region, in their descent to the more fertile country below, not the smallest cloud nor fleetmg rack, cast its shadow on the plain, nor intercepted their view of the hills and the valleys, and many lakes and forests that the eye at once compassed, to the rugged heights of the mountains which bounded the^magnificent scene: and they encountered no obstacle to their progress ; nor did they see any indications of the passage of any animal, which the father of Adalie thought it worth their while to turn out of the direct course to pursue. The young Indian, however, betrayed great eagerness to procure, if possible, some bird of the larger kind, to serve to decoy any prowling carniverous quadruped they might by and by wish to ensnare; and, he was soon gratified by the opportunity, at once ot obtaining what he deemed necessary to their pur- pose, and giving a proof of his consum- mate skill in the use of the bow and arrow. The first animal, of any kind, which they saw, was an eagle, that in searching for his prey, was floating in the air, at a great height above them. The youthful warrioi', with his bow half bent, now watciied patiently the turns of the king of birds, until his unei'ring eye dis- covxTcd the just moment, when, as he let slip the quick shaft, he exclaimed, " Let the sound or pierced heart of the eagle prove my just or censurable aim." The words were scarce pronounced, when the great bird of prey was seen fall- ing from the height, to which it hail soared, without an > ffort to recover itself, till it reached the ground within a few paces of the spot where they stood. There could be no question concerning the skill of the archer, from whose bow the anow had taken its flight. Yet Shahdac, eager to show the white man the signal proof of a red warrior's dex- terity in the use of their favourite weapon of war and the chase, tore open the breast of the bird, and exultingly displayed the fleshy seat of animal lite which it en- closed, pierced through its very centre by the arrow of the future chief of his tribe. They continued to descend the inland side of the mountain; and as they left the more sterile regions of almost perpetual mists, they entered a country, Avhere nature's first decided efforts at vegeta- tion were seen in various forms around them. THE KEIl INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 35 The face of the country still improved as they priK-eudetl; and the scene about them lit the heiglit of one-third ubove the base of the mountain was relieved by some K^'ivcs of juniper and spruce of a stunted j^rowth; wiiile a hundred freshets were seen sparklinj; in tlie sun, or heard miirmurinf^ amid the dark thickets, as they swept down the {jfentle declivities, in iheir course to the broader streams. And as it was at tlio height of summer, the scene appeared as joyous and gay, as the more constant spectacle which unequal nature exhibits in the more southern and less misty lands of her wide domain. As the party proceeded, the young Indian, of the force of whose remarkable eye, we have already seen the proof, dis- covered, upon the opposite side of the brfyad vale which formed the gi'eat step of the mountain beneath the slope they were descending, and beyond the vision of his companions, a prowling wolf, that was bending his treacherous steps towards them. And now the object for which he had procured the eagle, as well as desired to give some early proof of his skill in the use of the bow, was soon apparent. The red youth took the feathered king from the hands of Shahdac; and having slung the great bird of prey across his shoulders, and made ready his bow and arrows and his tomahawk, he began to step forward in a direction at right angles with the line in which the wolf had been seen, without any apparent caution, until he was covered by a little clump of bushes. Here he began to descend the gentle slope before him with some speed, and with his face so near to the ground, that at a distance he might easily have been taken for a four-footed benst; but he no sooner reached the shrubs than he disappeared from the view of the party he hud left behind him. Presently, however, the anxious ex- Eectants of the issue of trial between uman and brute cunning and courage, were able to distinguish the cautelous prowler, winding his way by measured steps across the broken ground, some- times under cover of masses of rock, and sometimes sheltered by the shrubs; but there was still no appearance of his human foe. But as the eyes of the nioimtaineers continued to search the ground which lay between that where they still saw the wolf, and the spot where the young Indian had disappeared, a new object in motion became visible. An eagle was seen, as if he were wounded, Happing his wings and hopping about by some small shrubs in advance of those at which Ahtomah had been lost to their view, and near the centre of an open space. The wolf was observed advancing with thesame cautious step. But the eagle, was presently seen, suddenly to make one high bound in the direction of his enemy, and fall to the ground, as if exhausted or dead. No- thing was now seen, but the wolti, The wary animal still advanced with the same measured step, until he arrived within a few paces of the spot wer« the eagle had fallen, when suddenly he made a spring, and seized the prey. But ere another moment elapsed, the shaft from the bow of the Indian had reached his heart. And after bounding, in his turn, fi*om the ground, he fell lifeless beside the decoy that had entrapped him. Without this stratagem, the wolf might by a leap, hare avoided the arrow, and the Indian have had to resort to tJie tomahawk in his own defence. But the victor soon now rejoined his companions, and the outwitted traitor was beheaded, and his hide stripped from him in a mo- ment, and with the decoy eagle, thrown across the shoulder of Shahdac; and the parties now continued their descent to- wards the plains. They had not, however, proceeded much further, when the father of Adalie proposed to the young Indian, that they together should take the direction of the woody lands, which skirted the south western bounds of the mountain, in tne hope of meeting with some bears or deer. But as the country which he intended to scour was deemed dangerous, and the course they might take too fatiguing for the white maiden, the Lord of the Moun- tain bade his child remain upon the ele- vated ground where they then stood, secure against any sudden attack, with the faith- ful Shahdac to protect her. Then, the father of the maiden, as he prepared to depart, gave his daughter and her guard many cautions regarding their watchful- ness and care during his absence, to which Adalie replied, " We will be very obedient, and very cautious. And, as we watch for my father and his brave companion, we will entertain the time in rellecting upon, and in the interchange of our particular im- pressions concerning my great father's discourse and instructive lesson of yester- night, Shahdac as well as myself likes to comment on all the Lord &f the Moun- tain discloses. Believe me," then she added, " the fidelity of my red protector is not greater than his thirst for know- ledge. But return quickly, my noblo father, and brave youth." H :ir> OrrAWAH, THR LAHT ClUKK OK Ah thr ImiitorH dcniirhMl, tlu» ryes of tho iirtlons iniiidcn Htiti followed tlicin, till thoy diflappcurLMl bihohh; tin- hiislios u.\\<\ Miruco grovo.s, na thoy (losciMuled towards tno inoro fiTtilo country. JJiit whon Adiilio bi'licvo>; that KImlidac obsorvinl licr moro than ordinary (uiriosity, nlu; niad(> nn attempt to turn the ti»ouj:;htH of her pro- toctor into nnotlior clniniioi, hut with too liMlo art to havo nuc«!t«od('d with «ivon a (hdlitr apprehension tliun that of her Indian fi^uardian. The faithful Indian had not been un- observant indeed of tlu» elmnjje which w as taking; place in the feelinjfs of tlut wbitc* maiden, whom he watched with a care and interest hardly inf»'rior to that of her parent. And short as had been the younfT Indian's Hojourn in the mountain, more intercourse had taken j)laci» be- tween him and the delicate Adalie, than wo have had occasion to notice; and it had fallen to the fortime of Sliahdac, to have more opportunities, than the father of Adalie, of witnessiiip; tlut impression which the bold and inlelli^(>nl yoiilh hiul already made upon the virgin hcarl of the nnsuHmuitinj;; nuiiden; and her fi;en('r- ons attennant lhou>>;ht tlu> present, a fair occasitm of recalling;' to her recollection, some (»f the applicable discourses ol' Ik r father, with his late nxiri! iinrticular cautions, and more iippropriale lessons. And now, Adalie and Shaliilac were seated tom'llier upon a rock llinl, was imbedded in a plat of moss, when lh< ccd man thus addressed hiniself to the daufi;hter of the Lord of the Mountain. " (looil Ailulie," sai;er that awaks tlm disrejijard of a parent's precepts. The Lonl of the Mountain has enjoined thee to avoid too familiar discourse with any of iheyounn'cr fiortion of our sex, when thou comest to iv« with tho inhabitants of the plain. Thy father knows the ethorial essence of thy purer alTectionft; and he alone is able to for«'sce the future conHiMiiuMices of our present at"tions — the impiu'tance of what now hamtcns upon the future hnpi)iness of his child. Ihil, perchance, he believes the colour of the yiaithful warrior, now with us, a warrant for thy security," " Thou art ever kind, Shididiic," said Adalie. " Ihii my father spnke not of warriors such as Ahloiuali. lie (old nu', as thou liast ol'len told me, Klialulac, lliul the men of the plain wcii' icrni'iuiis and cruel: that tiia* sex were oflen the prey of their wick«'d desires. This warrior caiuiot be of tho race of which my father sj)ok<'. He is jfcntle and " Hut here the stiU dictates of nature anested the white maiden's full ciaifes- sion of the existence within her, of even the little she eomprelu'ndod of her own feelin}'.'^ n relation to tho young Indian chief, and su^^m'sted, indeetf, more artifice to cover her ill-ciaicealed atfection, than her r(!f!;ard for openness and truth i)er- mitted her to »'in|)loy, Ihit, after a short pause, she ad«led to her unlinished spi>eeli — " Hut I have not disclosed to him any more than my anxiety in his absence, ami 1 will not, wilh(nitm'y father's communds." " A Jiord of the iMoimtain has often lilicned lo the whirlwind, in llu^ irrcfjuhir violence of its course." The red man had said enough. The artless girl began at onec to understand nuire clearly tlie nature of her aireclioii for the yoiuig wariiiu-. Or, perhaps, lor the first tinu', she bocamc conscious of the existence of that wvy passion, which kIi(« had indeed heard thus described by her failier, but had not \\> I coanpre- hended, and in which we nnisl experience the absence of the object in which it is centred, before it becomes nuinifcst, and encounter obstacles to its cmn'se, belore it tiiKes entire jiossession of the yonthl'ul mind. CllArTKK XIV. "oriii'liiK luki'li Uy lllii liimili'iit I'lie, And Kuld tu ilitvt'ry.'' O I II K I, Ml. Wiii.N the while maiden liml well re eovereil from the etlecls of the good Shahdau's admonitory remarks, she re- This warrior F wliifh my fatlior v\ I <'t)inpre- inii.sl cxporii'iifo • t. in wliich it •"iiH's maiiil(>H!, lo itN iMna-Ho, hscmhIou of tlU' Tin; IIKI) INDIANS OI" Ni:\VFOtINI)I.ANI). ;i7 Cl'IIKi.i.n. Iind well re |>^' till' >;(Mi(| iniii'liH, hIi(> rt'- miii(l(>(l licr companioii, Ihiit hor liillicr's ])riihil)iti(>ii, which hiul hitherto Ix'cii tlu* ohHliu^ln to their fr«'(i ilisconrHe coiicern- iiiff tlu' luttor piirt «it' that, porlioii of liis lil»! bi'font lu' I'limi) to reside with them ill thu inmiiitiiin, hiid be<'ii nMiiovod; iiiid Hh« roqiu'Mted liim to tiilui tlio pn>Ht!iit opportunity to porforni a eonditioiuil pro- miHd whieii ho Inid hin|{ a^;o nnuht, to rehite to her all thi> (rircuniHtaiKJos eon- nectt'd witli Ids captnro and his adven- tures in tho eonntrv of lh(> Nf icnmes. " 1 know thy fuflier's mind," said Shah- dae, in re|)ly, "and that I am now nnres- Irained; and, as my adventures, during the pt^'iod of my eaptivity, were not nniny, the oecasion nniy suit, and 1 will perform thy hehests. And, that the* con- dition of the red trilu; and the niislor- tniu'H that befell (hem on the day of my (■apturtt nuiy be the better understood, I will precede the account of my adventures, by a HJuirt description of the country, and ancient cnpitui village of th(> red tribe, and the former dwdllinj^ of the father of Ahtonudi." " Kvery thinj^ that concerns the red tribe wi(l interest me," said Adnli<', as she ])rep.ired lierself to attend to the re- lation of the Indian. " The villii|;e wliicli had been, during th(> coiu'se of more snows than could be numbered, the capital resideiu;e of the chiefs of the red tribe," said Shahdac, (bus connnencin^' his story, " was situ- ated by a river whose banks were hi|j;h and (iovered with sprucii tri'cs. Heyond these, tho land was low; so that a Mic- nnii; mi^hl float down the stream, save oidy when the smoke of the wi^rwams was visible, without discoverint;' that ho had passed within an arrow's lli^lil of the habitations of his enemies. Kar from the ^reat red river, on <'ilher side, Ihi' country was diversiiie'ed peaks above the clouds, and formed the bouiuhiry of the lerrit(U'y of the tribe, which was only passable at (li.stiint intcr^ds, and was easily ^L.trded. " 'I'o adfl to the security which their position alforded, the red ciiiefs hud en- coriipassed tlwir capital village with a double picket fence, ho stdidly con- Htrncted, that should their UMuies pass the mounlains in any nundters, witlioul till' aid of Ircacliery ne\er yi't, knmvn ainoii^' tho red peopli', ihey conld not take the \ iliii^'e by sur|)rise; but they uould bi' I \poicd to (lie arrows of the wiirriors within the defences, without bein); able to cD'eet any ihin^ against them in return. " In the midst of tin* villaice, was placed the siiacious wij^wam cd' Otlawah. It consisted of three apartments. That ii\ the c<'ntro was occupied by th« chi«f himself, with his wife, and iid'ant children. That on the rij^ht hand, was appropriated for tho reception of scalps, and other trophies of tho vii'toriis ir more laboriouH duties, or nad c<'ased to attraiM tlutcasual fondnessof tho warriors. "Tho rest of tho wigwams of which the vllla;<;e Cimsisttid, were placed amon)r juni))cr and spruco trees, with eipnii s])aces loft between thoni, and extended to the distance of an arrow's tlight on all sides around tho dwidlin;^ of tho chi(d'. "On the side towanl tho mountains, within their (h'fcnces was raised tho sacred repository of the boiu's of the <'hiefs of tho red tribe. It was con- slnutod of clay, intermixed with (M'dar twi|.js. Th" walls wore thick; and, within these, were frames of cedar, upon which rested the sacred renniins of the warriors, up to a period, from which the amount liiy (if every H'lile, tli(> .sport of every Htoriu. So uheii a wnrrior'.s iislic.s iirc HeiiKcreil niid iicrisli, the reconi iind the exiin)|i!c of his deeds nre lost to the nciie- rnlioiis that sueeeed. " " JJiit, whiit," sitid the Mhit(< inniden. " hecomes of llu> bodies of the women ?" " Tile Itodics of the women, lieforc tliey iii'(> disjiosed of,'' said Shahdac, "are east into a river or lalu>, that the war- riors may know whether the lives ol'iheir wives have heiMi tmslaincd, and tlieir faithfulness |)erfeet. If lh<>y siidt, il is l)eli<'ved they had no slain, and tliey are recoM-red and Imrned wilh care; hut if lh(>y float, the women are said to jnne dishononred tht> warriors \\lii!<> livini!\ and to have letl the liM's of hypocrites, and their bodies arc h>ft. to he devonred Ity the lislicM and tiu' binls of prey." 'i'h(> Indi;in now ceaseii spcahintj', that he mii>h(. alfonl an opportunity to tiie while maiden to jint any I'lirlher ipu's- tions thai she mij;hl ilesire. Hut a-; Adalie riMuaincd silent, after a. short pause, lie pro ceded w ith the jiroper iiis- tor> of his capttu'c. and liis luhentures ttnionii' tlic Miemiies. " lleforc (lie ni<;lit of my misfortunes," said he, "(here had In en an iiMiisuiilly loniv Ci'ssadcin of contests bi'twccn the Miennics and the red men; so (iuit il was acaii'dy Known whether the tribes wert> III pei\e(> tir war. Our yonnu'er warriors indeed often i)ro^ osecl an expedi(i(ir. anaiiisl (hi'ir nisii(, bic enemies; bul tli(> <>lder wuri> too well eonvin 'cd ot' (he pewcr of the rdicmae-, to iniei'ura!:i' any step that should awaken all their ancient enmity. "At Icnu'di, (lie father of Ahtonnili. the ifood <'l»ief himself, sceinu' that a vir- tual peace now seemed lo rv'ttrn. proposed to Ins people, dial four of (he nio>( a!;cd of (lie warriors slnadd cross (hf moun- tains wliicli divided (he (ribes, and eiidr (hccapKal villn-^e of (he Micnuu-s wilh the kiinn of iieaee, ntnl demand of their cuiMuies, if any warrior remembered the cau>;e of (he deadly lni(e. (hat had so lonj;' siibsis(ed between the tribes the oriijin of the war, which had sometimes rajjiMl tinlil the streiuiis of llic hills vhii blood, tuul titp f;rout rivers wcn> coloured witit I the (!;nr.> of the Hiain; iind if none nn- •swcred their demaml, then, followinj^ the customs of their fathers, they shiaild pro- ceed to impiire of their I'lieinies, whi'th<'r any reason I'xistctl why the bow should not ben nsl run;;', and tlu' axe buried for ever. " lint wiiile this project occu])icd the minds of the red chief, and his warriors, iind the dreams ol' (lie red people wero of peace, some (raitorw, perlinpH yet un- punished, were in aclion, and the wary i\Iiemae was in our camp. Utit liow shall I describe (hat ni,u;lit of horrors? ThiU fatal hour, when the tianies of deadly strife were rekindled, which will only cease to burn, with the extinction of the one or the other of the hostile tribes. "'I'he eye of the CJrcat Sitirit laid closed upon the land; and th(Mvarriors of the red tribe, nil, save a few scouts, had ri'tircil to their rest. All was silent. 'I'lie ted mt>n slej)!. And it seenuul lis if pem-e were already proclaimed. Hut ere a breath of alarm reat^hcd a red man's ear, the Micniacs were within onr de- fences. Dilfercnt divisiiuis of their peo- ple bad crossed the lirst line of the wi;;- wains toju'cthcr, and entered those which w (>ri- chielly tenanted by the ajjcd w arriors and ilu> wives of all the absent scouts; and (he lirst sound that was iieard, was the scream of alarm from the wives of the warriors, as the tomahawks of the Mic- macs struck down the nnarined vicliiiiH of their insatiable rape. "The lirst sounds strttek upon tho ear of the falher of Ahloinah, as he slept; and slartiuf>' fnnn his dream, he rccoju- ni/.ed the well renienibercd cry. Tlie red chief was not then past the vipiin* of life; and the cry of war and (kath was now answered by llic shout of revcnffc; anil our warriors, spriti^iiift' fmni their beds, 8ei/.(-d their tomahawks and their bows; anil, amidst the darkness, they assemblcil abiail the wi^twam of Oltuwah, scarce knowin;;; the nature of the attack, or whether their chief UmhI, to unite their slrenu,th, and direct their inovo- inenls. Hut as soon as thi'y r«'coj>iii/.c(l the voice of (Itlawuh, which was their law, they prepared lo resist or repel their enemies. " Hut the noise of war now ceased aa suddenly as it had begun; and not kiiow- iniv wiicrc to seek the enemy, the cliiof jiid|L^ed il proper to remain with his main fori'c inaelive, until the next siaind of the eneiny's steps was Iieard, or until they should discover his retreat. " The wives of the warriors, who had escaped the 8hui>;hler, now arrived, their infantM in thoir nrnis; ami, by onior of TiiK ur;i) IXU1AN3 or Ni;wKOUNnr„v\n. •T.t Ottawali, thoy ontorod the wigwam of tlu! cliicf. " IJiit a short lime had cliipii'd fVniii tlic first sliout of ulanii, ht'f'i)rc all the wonicii, sav(? those? who wen; nithlossly butchered hy tlio MieiniieH. and all the children, were crowded within the wig- wam i)f Ottawah; and tlie warriors were prt'iiared, and stationed in front of tluMr chiefs dwelling, and around the sacrod depositary of the ashes of their fathers. " It was now tlH> policy of Ottawah, to endeavour to discover the position, and th(" strength of his enemies, in the hope of being able to cut them o(V with tne same celerity, with which they had entered his camp, and effected tho slangh- top of his people. For this purp'ose, h'\ selected his warriors of the sharpest ear, whom he (lis])at<'hed in several directions. Some crept along the ground within, and SOUK- without, tho defences; lint Uii triiei! could be perceived of the wiiry foe. " Hut tne day was at hand; and us (he chii'f had no fear of an attack while pre- jiared, and believing that the enemy had repassed the defences, and retraciid his steps, he determined to ptirsne them with a band of his ehosi'n warriors, in the hope of cutting off their retreat; which, (lie nature of the gro\nul, with which bis people were better ac(|miinted than their enemies, gave him just exijcietations of being al)!e lo etfccl. "There «as light enough from the stars to dislinguisb the forms of the war- riors, as they proudly stood by their chief. Ottawah s arm was yet in its full strength. lie stood erect, as a pine of the pliiin. I lis tomahawk was drawn, llut he was silent, as a warrior with the trophies of his victories. " As tho rod men prepared to follow their chief, a scout arrived with the in- telligence, that a party of IMicmacs, iu- cunibored with scalps, had been discovered, in making their way towards the frontier of their territory. Tho red warrittrs, under (he oscitoment of t\n\ time, were elated by the prospect of overtaking their enemies, wlujm, from the ncc-ounts they received of their nund)ers, they hojied they might bo able to attack with some prospiH't of aucco.ss, oven in open day. " When tho eonrso which they should take was detornnned npon. the chief np- jiointed a guard to reuniin by (he wig- wam in which all (he defenceless in- habitants of (he village were assendiled. 'rh(> littU) body of men, ciu»sisted of (ho most ngod of tho warriors, ami such as hfttl boon wounded in former contests. Mysolf, Adalio, was appointed to the connnand. Well I remember the words of Ottawah. It was (ho last coinniaiid I received. It was the last time (hat 1 heard tho voice of the chief uf tho red men. " These precautionary measures taken, (he chief, witli the (lo'.wr o." ids war- riiiv-i, left the capital, in pursuit of tin? Micmacs. "Ajieriod of sil' uco now intervened. Mut wliile w(> believed we were Kccuro against any body of (ho enemy that might still lurk within the precincts of the vil- lage, a greater calamity titan that with wiiic th tlie night had connnonced was at hand. "As tho little band of red men sat in groups around (he wigwam of (heir (diief, and sonu', at inlervtiis placed (heir ears to the gr(MMid, and lume doubted of our security, before the step of a foe was dis- linguisned by the (luickest sense among us, a body of Micnuic.) rushed upon oiu" ineHlcieiit band, and overjiowercd us by their n\md)ers, ami the suddenness of tho attack. We defeiuled ourselves, as becanu' red men; but nil our ell'orts were in vain. lOvery red warrior fell to the ground; and the Micmacs entered the wigwam, bv the ligiit- of tin? tiu'ches they hail now delilier- alely prepared, niul (uimmenced the nuis- sacro of tho defencehiss women, and their children, all of whom, (except only a few of theyoimger v.onu'u whom they reserved for their warriors, and such as they be- lieved to be of the family of tho red chief, and worthy of torture, died. Among (Ik; latt<'r, were the mother and tho infant brother of Ahtomah. " When the Micniacs had well sated their thirst of blood within, (hey returned to scalp tho warriors of ih{\ guard, whom they had slain. 1 was bleeding and help- loss. They believed (hat I was the red chief; and, with another warrior of the guard, of yet more snows than I could innnber, I was raised up, and carried iiway captive to .sutler their fires — the (ires of tho eternal enemies of tho red trilx-." Tho Indian now seeing (Ik? while maiden overcoini> by tlu' forco tif her generous sorrows, nuuh! a short pause. Then, in a more Hubdued tone (hnn (hat in which li.' hail before spoken, he con- tinued — " lii t Adalie," said he, "cease to ween. It is a tale of (imes long past; and I will (urn from these revolting horrors, (o tho seipu'l of my own pro[)ei' achcntures. Tho Micnuu's, believing that they possessed two of their enenucs of tho ffrst rank at least, rejoiced in tho command over their 40 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIRP OP passions, which thoy had displayed in re- straining their inclination to confound us with the warriors who now dyed the ground with their blood. " They now bound our anus, and left us no further use of our legs, than was necessary to enable us to keep up with them in their retreat to the IMicmac coun- try. And when they had appointed a guard, which should not be diverted from their charge by any possible occurrence, wo commenced our journey, accompanied by the wome»ithey had reserved for their liiitod embrace, or for brutal violation, and a c!ruel death. " The day soon now dawned. Tnit such w as the security of the Jlicmacs, that they exerted no ciforts to hasten their arrival within the bounds of their owi. territory. Their scouts had given them ample notice of the movements of the red chief and his warriors, who still pursued the party, that with true Micmac guile, had witlulrawn them from tlie camp, and the protection of the wonu'u and infants, of whose fate they yet knew nothing. "In this manner we proceeded, until the eye of the Great Spirit looked from his utmost height; when we attained the summit of tiie hills which divided the Micmacs from the red country. " We next came, in our descent, upon the narrow stream near the source of a great river which, iu its course, desceiuls towards the south, where it emplies its waters into the boundless salt lake, bey(md the limits of the habitable world. " II<'re we embarked in canoes, lel't by our enemies, when they invaded ourtirri- tory. And we now shot down several rapids with the velocity of pursued deer. Hut when the day closed, there were still rapids to shoot, and impassable falls lo shun; so that the Micmacs chose a favourable place, where we landed to pass the night. " The first step taken by our enemii's, as soon as they had hauled up their canoes, was to make their prisoners ad- ditionally secure; and they now bound our fe«t as well as our arms. After this, they proceeded to make fires for their secvrity against the wolves, without fear of attracting any human foes. To the women they still left the free use of their limbs; but they did not sufi'er them to comnumicate with us, even by signs. " We passed the time of darkiu^ss in great agony of body and mind. (If hope tliere .vas none; and our thouglUs were (if the horrors of the preceding night, the shame of our condition, and our fears for tho red chief and the flower of his warriors. My aged companion had seen the partner of his bosom, and his infants, slaughtered before his eyes. And I had been by the side of my helpless children that called upon their bleeding parent in vain. They clung to their mother, who, kneeling upon the ground, held up the last that her breast had suckled, as she called upon the foe of red men to spare but that child. Ills tomahawk dashed out its brains. I saw no more. If my eyes for a moment closed, 1 seemed to hear my helpless infants call upon their parent ftjr protection, who couUl not aid them. And what, to'ain einbarki'd, to pursue tin? direct course to the seat of the chiefs of their tribe. The stream became broader as we descended. We shot down several rapids j and we twice landed, that the canoes might be transpiu'ted bv hand, beyond the danger- ous falls which intervened. "All day wo continued our course. And in the evening, the ascending smoke of the capital village of our enemies was visible. As the Micmacs cast their eyes upon the evidence of tlu'ir a])proach to their homes, they commenced again their song of triumi)h, which, before th(> depar t'U'e of the light, was answered by the greetings of recognition and welcome, from the inhabitants of their capitnl, who lined the shore, or were embarked in canoes to receive their friends, and con- gratulate their success. "As the two parties now afloat ap- 42 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OP proached each other, we plainly discovered the canoe of the chief of the Micmacs. The chief himself was with his people. He was a warrior of fine stature, of a dark countenance, and fierce demeanour. He was seated somewhat higher than the rest, and he did not handle the paddle, while his canoe preceded the canoes of the rest of the warriors. " The song df triumpli continued until the parties uniietl. There was now a dead silencej and ttll remained for some time statioliaf_tj But when the chief, as he cast his eyes oft elthel' side, saw the scalps of his eneniies displayed, and his red prisonef-S) and that ftiVj if any, Mic- macs Were ^rrthtJng'^ jie tttrried his canoe towards the shpl-ej and they began agftifi to sing their wild sonj* tit jot— their song of triumph over red men. And they con- tinued thtis to extdt iri their victory, until wo reached the beach. CHAPTEII XV. " My life IHoii slmlt coramanf!, but not my shame." lilClIARU II. "Tun cajpitat Village of the Micmacs," said Sir dac, continuin,^ Ijis talc, '• is not liico at of the red fribe. It is seated upon the precipitous alid rOcky banks of a rapid streain, which secures it on this side against every enemy fjy day or by niglU; while, upon the! side of th'e shore, rise enormous mountains* which httvt only one or two passes, so narrow, that thty maj'be delomkdby a handful of warriors. In this security the Micmacs have con- structed sepulchres, that should gnard the bones of their fathers for ever. An6, happy in this assurance, they have col- lected so many warriors in theif capital, that its inhabitants can no 'onger be numbered. " Tliey dwell in wigwams like those of the red triljc. And at this time they pos- sessed not the weapons of lire, of which Ahtomah has spoken: neither wero their weapons of war, nor their canoes, nor tlieir duellings, superior to those of the red people. " Tile department of the chief's wig- wam, to wliich we were confined, was hung on nil sides with the scalps of red men; and we saw bows and tomahawks which had been the w(>npons of our ancient chiefs. Living red men, bound iind lu'I{)less, in the eninp of llu'irrnemies, loolvcd upon the sculps of their brothers — upon the weapons or their people, — upon llu' trophies of their shame, — upon the signs which predictect the extinction of their race. "Four days and nights we lay bound, during which time we saw neither friend nor foe, save the Micmac who brought us food, and as soon retired. But on the morning of the fifth day, two warriors entered the apartment where we now lay; and, having partially unbound us, they led us forth, before their people, who were now assembled to witness our sacrifice, otour shame. " In the midst of the village there was a space nnocetipied by wigwams; and htre they had ef-cetfed (^ single stake, to- wards which they led thnS. Then, after sohie ceretnonies, 111 which they invoked the evil spitii to take froril liS the resolu- tion and fortitude of red mftfl to bear their tortures lik^ waWdts, they played a game of httzdrd to detertnine which of us should be the victiirt trf the day; for two warriors are seldtrm sticrificed toge- ther, which would ttio rtinch contract the pfriod devoted id the enjoyment of the savage triumph of the vietors, while it would tend to confirftl the resolution, and strengthen the fottitude of the sufferers. " The lot fell upori mf Cottipanion, who roioiced in his good fortune; fof he had entertained fears .lest the effects of pro- tracted eonfinemont might break his reso- lution to suffer with the patience, or in- difference of a warrior of his race. ' It is fortunate,' said he, addressing his last words to his companion in sorrow, 'you are younget-,- and stronger than I, The red natne will not l-eceive a stain. We have Micmac slaves in our camp. There is not a living im man in that of the MietnaeSj save those who know how to die.' " The red Warrior was now tied to a stake, v/hich had been prepared. Then the cnfejf approached him, and formally offered him life, upon the usual conditions of serving his enemies in perpetual slavery. " The red man answered the Micmac, as became his birth. lie taunted tlie chief and his warriors, who surrounded him, with an account of the Micmacs, at whose torture he had assisted; and with the number of Micmac slaves at this day in tlie camp of the red tribe; and he defied them, with their united skill, to apply tortures, such as those he had applied to their brothers, in the capital of his tribe, or any that could excite in him any other feeling than contempt. " I am not a Micmac,' said the red warrior, ' that those muscles should shrink before tlie fire of my enemies. The blood of my race runs in these veins. Think ye, that I am a woman, that should oven I weep, as I have seen a Micmac, that was THE EED INDIANS OP NEWFOUNDLAND. 43 m, and formally esteemed a warrior among his people, A red woman, a red boy, has more courage, more skill, than a Micmac warrior.' " The chief now pointed out to the red man, the instruments of his torture, as they lay strewed upon the ground before him. They consisted of various intlam- mablc materials, contrived for applying the fire, and prolonging the torture. The red man looked upon them and laughed. "Again and again, in attempting to excite terror, and by promises of in- dulgencies such as a patient slave might enjoy, they tried to subdue his pride, and induce him to change his resolution; but all their arts were in vain. The blood of the red race ran in his veins. "And now came the full trial of his virtue. The dance of death, which is similar to that which I have described, was commenced; and when the passions of the warriors were sufficiently excited, they ceased for a moment, that they might begin the torture with aftected ceremony. Then a Micmac, without a warrior's arms, advanced, and tore off the red man's gar- ments. Then another brought small sharp-pointed sticks, that had been soaked in the gummy juice of the pine. These they stuck into the warrior's limbs, from the soles of his feet up to his shoulders. Then they lighted them, and recom- menced the dance, with fresh yells of triumph. And as the flames began to consume away his flesh, they stopped at intervals, and approached him, one by one, and by turns, reviled him, and flat- tered him with hopes of a speedy termi- nation to his sufferings. But he returned all their tauntings with the details of the victories of his people over their race, with q, list of the warriors he had scjalpcd or tortured, and in reproaching them that they knew not the way to sacrifice a foe." Shahdac, now perceiving that Adalie was too much affected by his desciription, for a short time paused, and then renew- ing his narrative, ho said, " The red man at length succeeded in irritating his enemies to the degree he desired. And one among them, excited above the rest, advanced, towards him, ad, by a blow of his tomah»v.k, put an end at once to the savage rejoicings of his people, und the bravely-borne suffer- ings of the red man. "As soon as my companion expired, I was taken back to the chef's wigwam, an4 reserved for the same exhibition, at any time it should pl6ase the c-l'iof io appoint. "Some days again I lay bound; and no one entered the apartment to which I was confined, save an aged warrior, who brought mc a scanty allowance of food. It seemed to me as many seasons, so much I longed to terminate my mental agony. At length, as J slept, during the silence of the night, I was awakened by the touch of a light hand, and addre-ised by a female voice. I started from my reclin- ing position. The voice continued: 'As you are a red warrior, do not speak, do not move. A red woman is near you. She brings you tidings of good, or of evil; but which, she yet knows not. To- morrow, is the day appointed to try the constancy and courage of the red pri- soner. Art thou prepared?' " ' I am prepared,' said I, ' and I hear the tidings with joy.' "'And what is your resolution?' she then said. " ' Art thou, then, of my race,' replied I, ' and knowest not the resolution of a red warrior? Who art thou?' " ' A red woman,' I'eplied the voice, ' and one that w ould not be a slave. Does not Shahdac recognize the voice of the partner of Ottawah. I hold the in- fant son of the chief of red men in my arms. Knowest thou not the mother of Ahtomah the futui-o chief of the red tribe, that should be the restorer o. its ancient greatness? Thou speakest with the mother of all the sons of Ottawah, All the rest of the women taken have accepted life. I alone have refused the boon. To me is given the space of four moons to reflect and determine whether I will retract my resolution; and it is well. It is enough to ripen my plans for conveying the son of Ottawah to the camp of his people, to the bosom of his father. Then, if thou art indeed a red man, hoar my proposal. Weigh it as thou shouldst, and we may both, yet once again see the country of our people. My honour is unstaiiu-d I will not yield to the embrace of a Micmac. I will not be a slave. And if thou wilt be counselled by the wife of Ott iwah, with this infant in her arms, thou, too, mayest, with unstained name, again sleep in peace in the camp of the red tribe. My pro- posal involves no guilt, no shame. Ked men will sing the song of triumph, as we ajiproach the wigwams of their chief.' "lii'fore the red woman had finished speaking, I bad somewhat recovered from luy surprise, and I thus addressed her. "'And what,' said I, 'can bo the means to an end so improbable? Should you cast off these bindings, I am not free. Should yo- open a passage for a hundred warriors to pass beyond this camp, you 44 OTTAWAH, THK LAST CHIKP OP cannot think that even a red man, who has lain many days bound, and in the possession of his enemies, eould, with a mother and her child, (!6cai)e the vici- lanco of the Micmacs, and reach the camp of !iis tribe.' " * I think not so,' said the wife of OUawah. " ' Then for what purpose this inter- view, and wherefore coniest thou?' said I. '" To counsel thee how thou mayestsave the wifo and child of Ottawah.' "• Say it, then,' said I, ' what should I do?' •' • Oh, then, let not your resolution,' said she, ' destroy all my hopes.' *' To wnich I only replied in the same words I had before spoken. " * Thou shouldst,' said she, ' thou shouldst .' But here the voice of the wife of Ottawah faltered, and she seemed as if she could not proceed. " ' And why this hesitation, after what I have heard,' said I. ' Art thou not of the red blood? But I forget,' I added, ' thou art a woman. IIow shouldst thou counsel a warrior?' "'Yet hear mo,' said she, in appearing to recover her force. ' Thou mayest save a son of the chief of the I'cd men, from worse than slavery — from becoming a warrior of the liatod tribe. But thim must become— but for a season only — thou must become — ' and here she again hesitated, as if she hud perceived my emotion. " 'Become what?' said I. " ' A Micmac !' " Then, ere I could replj', she continued: ' But for a season only— yet a Micmac dave!' " As the wife of Ottawah uttered these words, she fell upon her knees at my side. I did not speak ; but she knew the spirit of her race, and the thoughts that now passed in my mind. She placed the in- fant son of Ottawah in my arms. But she was still silent. She respected mj passion. She knew its source, and she knew its truth. " It was some time before I recovered my full presence of mind ; but as soon as I was aulc to speak, I thus addressed her. " ' And art thou a red woman,' said I, ' and respcctest not, knowest not, the honour of a warrior of thy race?' " ' Thou understandest me not,' said she, ' or remomberest not that I am the wife of ihe chief of red men. If I counsel a red warrior to become a slave, and a slave to the Micmacs, it is not that I have for- gotten from what race I spring; but from the hate that I bear to the enemies of the red people; for the love low my country; and in pity for the babe, to which I have given life — the child that now sleeps in thy arms, the brother of Ahtomah, Otta- wah's infant son.' "The wife of Ottawah hero paused; but, when I made no reply, she con- tinued — " ' The onrs of the red man are not open. A scm of Ottawah perishes. A red war- rior will not save him. The Micmacs will laugh. The red tribe will mourn. The son of Ottawah will live to slay his bro- ther, to pierce the heart of the red chief.' " I was now too much overcome by the struggle between the opposite passions which possessed me, to be able to reply. The wife of the red chief respected my f^eelings, and she more calmly added, " ' Thinkest thou, then, that a red war- rior could not return to his people, with the son of the chief — the son of Ottawah, in his arms? If a red man should accept the mercy of his enemies through fear, he were worthy of slavery. But is it a crime for a red warrior to circumvent his enemies, and save the son of the chief of his tribe? With this boy thou mayest carry to thy people the good tidings '>f the weakness of their enemies. By fained reconciliation, and pretended servitude, th(l men. What says the red warrior to my proposal?' " The red woman then ceased speaking. But I remained still silent. I knew not how to reply. " But as I reflected in silence, the red woman rcMninded me that the time was short; and I summoned to my aid, all the presence of mind I possessed. I fell upon my knees. I raised the infant in my arms, and addressed myself in prayer to the Great Spirit, to assist my judgment, that I might choose the step the most happy for my country, even were the scorn of my tribe my own fate. But my prayer seemed impious, and my irresolu- tion continued. " One moment, the best and strongest reasons, seemed in favour of the argu- ments of th J wife of the red chief: the next placed everything in a contrary light. I deliberated. She resumed her admoni- tions. " ' A moment more,' said she, ' and it is too late. I and my child must depart. The Micmacs do not always sleep, like the bear in winter. They may awake. It is to the juice of the mountain hem- lock that I owe this interview. Its oflfecta the enemies of the slow m^ country; )e, to which I have liat now slcepg in of Ahtomnii, Otta- wah hero paused; J reply, she coa- I man are not open, ishes. A red war- Tlie Micmacs will will mourn. The vo to slay his bro- t of the red chief.' h overcome by the opposite passions u be able to reply, hief respected my ;almly added, n, that a red war- o his people, with e son of Otfawah, nan should accept ios through fear, 'ery. But is it a to circumvent his ion of the chief of boy thou mayest good tidings of pmies. Byfftined ended servitude, e Micmacs, and not the scorn, of he red warrior to ceased speaking, nt. I knew not silence, the red It the time was to my aid, all the sed. I fell upon infant in my elf in prayer to * my judgment, i step the most even were the n fate. But my nd my irresolu- TIIK HKD INDIANS OF NKWFOUiNDLAKD. 45 are transient. Say! shall the son of the red chief live to mingle with the enemies of his race? Shall he become a Miemaf, and the destroyer of the warriors of his tribe ? Or shall he obey the call to arms of his renowned father, and meet his enemies, fighting in the ranks of red men, by the side of Ahtomah, their future chief?' " At these words my resolution was taken. " • Go,' said I, * I will be -' and never, gentle Adalie, shall I forget what my tongue uttered — ' I will then, said I, ' I will then, become— a Micmac— a Mic- mnc's slave.' " My word was no sooner passed, than I heard the red woman no more. " ' But stay,' said I, scarcely believing that my lips had indeed utterect the words that my soul abhorred, 'depart not yet. What have I said, what done ?' " But it was too late. The wife and son of Ottawah were gone, and I was left to my reflections, noAV more bitter than before. Before this, I felt as if I had already passed my trial, and coidd em- brace death with joy; and my thoughts were upon meeting with the shades of my fathers, in the country of eternal summer, the world of perpetual day. But now they were changed to the contemplation and dread of everlasting shame. " Oppressed, and evercome by my re- flections, I at length fell into a sound sleep; and, in my dream, I was warned by some good spirit, of tlie fatal consequences of my intended stop. I was transported, in imagination, to the camp of tno red tribe; and there I saw the warriors as- sembled in council to devise new defences against an expected invasion of the Mic- macs. I thought 1 stood amidst the war- riors, concealed, or unobserved, till I heard a warrior refer to my return. His words were not plain. But again he spoke; and I distinctly heard drop from his mouth, as he concluded, the words — •' ' And yet, though the talc be strange, Shahdae was not wont to lie.' " Another warrior said. 'Where is the wife of Ottawah?' and another — 'Where is the child?' Then I thought I saw Ahtomah, yet a boy, rise beside his father. He essayed to speak. His lips moved. His face expressed altcrn.ately the passions of anger, and ])ity. B.it no words that he uttenul rcaclud my far. " Next, I thought the chief himself arose, and he also spoke with the appear- ance of agitation. But no sound of his voice reached my strained sense. "And now there appeared to be a general movoinen:; but I could not divino Its purpor', Yet ]'. started up, and began to adare«9 Ihe warriors. But nobody seemed to hear or to observe me. But presently I saw the warriors preparing their tomahawks, and their bows, and I saw the good Ottawah directing the ar- rangements for the defence of his people. Shame and grief were heavy upon my soul. But now the scene changed; nn women for the wife of the chief, and the child, but that I could not discover them. Then the scene wholly changed again. And from the inountai' s, as 1 there sU»»\ alone, I thought I saw the capital of tlio red tribe in flames, and the Micmacs scalping the warriors. "But I would not oppi*ess thy spirits, Adalie, with a picture of all the horrors that my imagination presented. I awoke, and for some time debated with myself concerning the promise I had given, and the proper duty of a warrior. But, I be- lieved that some evil, rather than good spirit, had visited roe during the night — that I had seen some practised instigator of Micmac malice and fraud; and I re- jected the warning, and determined to adhere to iny promise and resolution, to accept life, and become a Micmac slave. " Early upon the day which succeeded this fatal night, a band of Avarriors en- tered the apartment in which I lay bound ; and I was conducted to a place appointed for the sacrifice, with the same ceremony that had attended the torture of my red brother. The warriors were assembled, and the stake prepared ; and they now bound me, and brought forth the instruments of tor- ture. Then came the trial, the struggle between my desire to deprive my enemies of the supposei* glory of vanquishing the resolution and courage of a red warrior, and the promise I had given the red wo- man, and wife of my chief, united with the desire I felt to circumvent my ene- mies, and, if possible, again with honor embrace my own tribe; and, my suffer- ings were augmented by my doubts, con- cerning the nature and th^ cause of my dream. " The chief advanced, and in the pre- sence of tlu( warriors demanded my do- termination. " * Bed man,' said he, ' art thou pre- pared for the torture? It awaits ♦ :.;e. Or wilt thou become a slave to the Mic- macs, who despise their enemies? Wilt thou be the slave of tlu; great tribe, which has trod thy i>eople beneath their feet? Ere this hour, not a red man had survived ; 46 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OK but tli.it ymir wiirrii)rs arc women nid 'ho Micinucs hp:ve together concerted. Indeed, I entertained the most lively ex- pectations of finally accomplishing the ])urpose for which I had become, to all appearances, a willing slave, " As the snow departed, the hunting of the warriors commenced; and I, stune- times, accompanied them in their expe- ditions, and, sometimes, remained at home, without exciting any suspicicm or distrust: for tlu! IMiemacs well knew, that i. o riilui'n of a red warrior to his people, after having accepted life from his (aiemies, was unheard of; and that, should it occur, it would be sure to beget for their eneujy, a more lingerhig, and a worse fate than that rvhich he had escaptid at their hands, in the scorn, and never- ceasing reproaches of his people. " At length, when it seemed certain, that if the ilightest suspicion of my inten- tion had at any time entered the mind of a ]\IicnKi(% it nad now passed away. I communicated to the wife of Ottawah, my determination to take the first fair opportunity to lead her with her infant son from the hated camp; and, it was not long bt'fore it occurred. " One favourable night, when the greater part of the warriors were engaged upon a coast expedition, in search of seals, and when all that remained, save an inefficient guard, were buried in sleep, I passed the defences, with the wife and scm of Ottawah, There was sufficient light in the sky to enable us to distinguish our way; and wo Tin; ni;i» Indians of NinvFoi.NDi.ANi). 47 I)(?iit our steps townnls tin* chief puss of the rnoiiiitaiiis, ^vhieh 1 knew to lie etue- h'ssly f,niiir(h'(l, hy redsuil of iho Reeiirify, wliieh the Mi<;mtics liclicved tliey doiihly dijoycd, siii('(.' the siKiiiil Kiiccess of the expedition in wliicli I imd 1,'eeii eiipturod. "The boy I cnrrii'd in niv nrnis, nnd his mother followed. ICverytiiinu; was propitious. Tlio sky «hieh hiid alforded ns iifijht ennn^li to distin<,Miish our way, darkeiK^d as we npproaclied l\u> heif^lits, and we passed tliechfile in tiie inoiuUains without interruption. And as soon as we wero hejond iinmodiato danjijer, the heavens up[ain f^rew Ii{^litor, as if some fjood spirit p^nideil ami guarded ns. " As wc entered the extensive plain tliat lies npon the opposite side of thr^ mountains we inid passed, the day broke. But we were beyond the; vision of a Mio- mae of the farthest sight, before distatit objects eould be distinpjuishod. Our track woidd be their only puido. It was, thert!- fore, now my object, if possible, to con- found their pursuit, by breakinf,'our trail, wliich, if entire, would be the certain means of enabling them to overtake and recapture us. " 1 had, hitherto, avoided the river of th<' Micmacs, because I believed that it would be along its shores that we should be first sought for. IJut having been succ(;ssfui in gaining so great a distance from the precincts of the Micmac cnmp, before full c'.ay, I turned towards the rive-, with the intention of constnu;ting a raff, on which wo might navigate the stream for some distance. " Yly this nu'ans I trusted I might bo able to con(!eal the place of our landing; and, perhaps, succeed in setting the Mic- macs at fault, when they followed our trail. "It was not long before wo camo upon the stream of the Micmac river; and, as I had my tomahawk by my side, we soon constructed a small raft, and prepared a paddle. We, then, hastily embarked, and ascended the current. And this course was not attended with any danger of being discovered; for the time was too limited to allow of the pursues being in the vicinity; and if wc; had no cha-.ice of concealing t e place of f)ur landing, yc^t the difficnltiv's and delays of the pursuit would be augmented in proportion to the width of the gap that would be found in our trail; at the same time that ev(;ry paddle's length shortened ,iiir journey to the red coinitry by land, and relieved us of a portion of our anxiety on siecount of the feeble and irdirm step of my com- panion in flight. " 'I'he wife of Ottawflh, had, ittitil now, displayed a courage at least in every way wdrtliy her rank. Mut an incident occurred lifter >ve had embarkennd-spruce of the higher hills. " I now applied the paws of the bear we had taken to the purpose 1 had in- tended. I botnid thein beneath my moc- casins, with the daws towards my heels; and, a<;^ain taking; the child in my iiriiis, I directed tlii' red wonnm to walk before tis. Then, treadinu: in her steps, as .she jiroceoded, I obliterated nil traces of her track, without leaving any of my own, by lh(> impression of the bear's paws. "In this mauner wo proceeded acoss an extensive plain aboundinfj; in marshes, thouj!;h at intervals, we were covered by proves of the ceilar and spruce. After this we mounted and descended several hills, Bometimos rocky ami barren, and sometimes abounding with moss and creeping herbage, without a tree to shelter us. " At the ch)se of day, we came upon another branch of the great Micmac river. And here, on the second night of our flight, wo chose the shelter of some spruce trees, to take such rest, as necessity ob'.ig^ us to seek. But we dared not kindle a (ire. "The wife of Dttawah, whom I could not always support on our journey as 1 wished, on account of the necessity of obliterating our track, had tittered no complaint during the day; but she now began to exhibit such proofs of fatigue, as rendered me apprehensivt', that, wh<>n the morning came, she would not be able to proceed. As soon, however, as I had prepared a bed of moss and spruce boughs, with dried leaves, she laid her- self down beneath a cedar tree and fell into so sound a sleep, that my hopes revived. And I now laid the child by her side; and covered them with boughs that should protect ♦hem from the dews of the night, in the full hope that repose woidd perfectly restore the mother, and enable us to renew our etforts with the approach of the day. "I now placed my back against the same tree, under which the red woman and her child slept, with my feet a little advanced, which is our way of taking re- po,'.e on an expedition, which requires great watchfulness; and I slept long enough to regain all the strength I had hmt, or that I retpiired for the journey in prospect for the approaching day. " When 1 awoke, I perceived, by the stars, that the night was far advanced; ami, us there was light enough to enable us to proceed, I hastily n-moved the covering of spnu'e bouglis I had phicetl tipon the sleeping mother, and her nifant, with a determination to connnence the day's journey, without wailing for the liglit of the sun. I found the cliild in a sound and mitural sleep; but the mother appeared disturbed in her slumbers. I, however, awoke her, in the confident hope that she had had sufficient repose to enable us to pursim the jouriu-y. " As the wife of Oltawah opened her eyes, she first regarded me wildly; but, when by the faiitt light <)f the stars, she .saw that I was kneeling beside her, and perceived that she held the child in her aruts, she seemed to recover her recol- lection; but only to discover the state of helplessness to which she was reduced. " She (piickly knew^ her condition. She was in truth dying. And now exerting all thestrength shehad remaining, shepressed the son of Oltawah, still sleeping, to her bosom. Then she exclaimed: 'Shalulac, take now the child, and proceed. I die. Make no funeral mound. I am content to lie unburied in the country of the Mic- nuics. I am content that my flesh be devoured by wolves, ami that uiy bones be dishonoured by the enemies of the red people. ]lut bear this infant to the camn of his people. Bear the son of Ottawali to the arms of his renowned parent. I shall see the red country no more.' "The partner of tlie red chief had no .sooner uttered these words, than she ex- Eired. The stroke was too sudden, the low too great, to leave mo perfect master of my judgment and my actions. Yet I could not obey her iniunction. I could not leave the body of the wife of the red chief to bo devoured by the beasts of prey ; and I determined to raise a funeral m ouiul at every hazard. " I now proceeded with such means as I possessed, to dig a pit, which 1 formed deep enough at least to preserve the body of the partner of Ottawah from the eagle that was already hovering over my head, as well as from the wolves of the plain, until a party of red warriors, slumld our trail happily remain undiscovered, might have time to recover it. I then deposited it, and raised the mound. " This sacred rite performed, to swim the stream with the infant in my arms was the step that I next contemplated. ladloHt.ortlmt I pro»ii)fct for the THE BED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND It was now tlit' dnwn ul' d:\\; iiiiil I rropt uiuloi' tli(> slicltiT of tlip p;r(iiin(l- spruoc, to tho ('(lp;(« of the rooks that bor- dered tlu> river, to east my eyes over the op(>n prospeet, in order to be assured tiiat no enemy was at hand. Hut I no sooner obtained a view of the river, tiian, astounded, I gazed upon the canoes of our enemies, Several appeared stationed, at equal distances, upon the stream, witii the evident design of cutting off our re- treat to the red land. " When I reflected upon the short space III' tiuii' lliat Iiiiil clnp^U'd since we left their eainp, and upon tlie dilHculty of transporting tlicir canoes from the one river to the other, or nuiunting the tor- tuous stream, 1 couhl not believe, that what iippeared to my waking senses was real. 1 thought they wore the aiding spirits that the Micmacs invoke; and I ga/ed upon them with equal wonder and dread. But when the clear day satisfied mo of the reality of what I saw, I was confounded with doubt and irresolution. "What should now be my course? It fto OTTAWAH. THK LAST ClIlKr OK !i»'onii'il t>((u»lly tliinK»'ri)iisl(i ri>mniii. iiiul tl»ll\. Tlli'li' Wlis III) lloulll llllll CMTV ftlu'ltiT iiliiiiM till' sliiii'i' \Mis tin* Hi'iii ol u Mifiiiiii' siiiiii. The hNNJI'iiioss III' my I'oM B|»^tcnri'(l iii\ iMily rcsiimvc; iiinl I iiii« CiiM nil' lilt' 111 :ii'h pinvft riiiin my mui'rii- Rllis,iiiiii ilitM) liiiiinilthiM'liililtiiniy ImcU i\-i bi't'iicc, iinil, iiis]>inil liv llir oliji'ii nl" my pH'iirl", I (liMli'il liiini llic kIu'IIi'I- nt' llio R|iriiri'M, \N liii'li llllll itllni'ilctl IIS 'i'i'iiril\ (IlirinU till' iii;;lil, liKr lln' ili'i'r iVum liis t'lmi', llllll liii'U till' till ri'tioll 111' till' iiiiisi HJu'lli'i'i'il I'liiiiitiy llllll ii|i|ifiii'i>ii, williiMii i'i>}>'unliiiK llir i-iiiii'Ho lit' (lie Htriiiiii, nr (ht> (lii-i'i'liiiii iii'llii' liiiiil uf tlu> It'll li'ilio. CIIAPrKU XVII. " I tMJI lll'»|lltil', llllll U» Ml VIMIitt) Willi I'OioiiliiH Ixipi'," hll-HAKIl II Ii'wiiHiiot M'itlnml llii> <>xwri'i>«' ol' Ki'i'iit I'liiiirnl DvtT his ri'i'lin^H, (InriiiK llii' ri'liilinii of ilu> Ii'IiiIm III' IiihI iimii rt^uiii', tliiii Sliiihiliiii liihl lii'i'ii iililc III iii'I'Im' III iIiIh ))i-riiiil III' iiis liisinry. Ami iin Aiiit ill' llllll l)i'(>n llln^' sili'iil, lii> MUft imiiiri-il III l)i'lii>V(> llllll sliii di'Hiii'il III ii\u»i> uliiiii' i>uii(>i>niiii|.( I'Vi'iita llllll wi>rii ko HtninfiCi' III licr, lict'nl'i' slii> kIiiiiiIiI Iii< iu-i|liilillli'il Willi llu> I'liil; llllll III |irii|ii)Ai>il 111 ili'l'i r wliiil rt'iimiiiiMi iil'liis lii'^lury, (<•> H i'liiiin' ii|ijiiirliiiiily. Hut ii nmi^ lhi> nnliiii iMiriDsity lit' lhi> inniili'ii, \\liii iiilriiiivi' I'lir litnl lii'rii iijii'ii 111 I'M'rylliiii^ iliiil liiii) lii>iMi i'i'IiiIimI liy lii'i- |iriili'rlii|-, lliiil liiiil Im'I'Ii ihi' (■iiiisi' III' lire silciii'i' 1 mill lu n||i> «>\|)ri>NMi>il lii'i' iiiiw illiii^iii-HN (o lit> ki'iii in Kiih|ii'nsi>, riiMri'iniii^ llii> ciiiirluMioii ot' 'iiIh lulM'iiliiri'N, llllll' II few nitiiiili'M' imiuo, (lii> riiiilil'iil liiiliiiii I'liDliniu'ii IiIm hiiirv. ".So iiiii'iii wiis J," siiiil 111', "iiiiiiii my iiliji'i t 111' niiiiiin{i, ill" mIu'Iici'i'iI cumiii'v williiii my vii'H, tliiU I iliil iml mh miii'li HM turn iiiy i'l'iiil, In nmrK v\liittlit!> y iiiiisiM>il mi>, iiiiiil I \MiM iiiiili'i' I'liviT 111 ilii' M|iriu'i' niiiM' llllll sliirii'il till' lliirlu'i- wiiiiil lii'yiiiiil il, wliirli I'lin- hUti'il 111' (ri'i's 111' II liiCfii'i' fii'<>^> ill, iiml vli'lii'i' I'liliii^i' lliiMi iiu\ lliis Nli'i'lli' iiioun- tiiiti iii'iiiluri'M. I iiiiw h|ii|i|ii'iI I'lir II mn- iiiiMil, ill iii'iK'i' Id cxiimiiio llic ^^rniiml williiti hiulil lii'liiiiil me, in riiii> niiv riirmy wiTK to ill' si'i'ii, wliirli Iiiiiiii imiui'i' im> III miiUr nil iillrniliuii in my roiiiNi'. Till' cyo ol'llii' (iri'iil .Spii'il wim iilioui lo iqi|i<>iir iiliiivi' ilii< lioi'i/.oii ', llllll ilisiiiiil oli- ivolH wi'i'i' on nil hIiIi'm > iNilili'i liui noiliiii);' In iniilioii I'liu^rlil invNi^lii, iiml im nouikI vciu'hi'il my i-iir. I'Ih' nili'iu'i' vmik IIKk llllll 111' ilii< liiiiil, wliin llii< li'iiM'N iiri> I'lilliMi mill lli<> I'li'ini'iilH iiri' ui rcsi. Kvi'ry Mijfll WIIN l'll\liri|ll|l>. "Wlinn I ontot'i'il tl i> thii-knr wiumI, I I'liiiiiKcil mv t'lHirHi' ii littln tnwiml tlii> iliri'i'liiin 111 (III- I'li'iil rivi'i', in llic Imiii III" liriiin llllll' III |iiiss il Niil'i'ly iliiriiin llu' mjilit. All ilay, I roiiiiiini'il my joiinicy \Mili iimiliiili'il h|ii'iil, \\U'\U' I iiiiii'i' I'M'iy ilViiil III clmli' llio \iniliinii' of llu' |Mir- sui'i'M. I jitisHril lliroii|.i|i K\Mini|iH iind nmrslii's iiiMirtil willi lliirit )>i'iiiiml \vfi;v- liilinii. 1 nlnii^i'il inlii t-M'ry hii'iiim lliiii I I'liioiinltOi'il, Willi llii> inl'iinl iil my liiuli, Mi|iii more iwi'pli'x iln' •mii'iiiv'h hi'iii'i'Ii. Ami, Hiiiiu'llme*, i I'llnil)!'') i'ihkKV hI*'<'|"*> wllilHUriK'llV HllinillilN, likl' lllimn wIllTI' Ml' ilwi'll, I'l'tu'li iilioM' tli<> lloalinK viipiiui'M, llnit dIini nri'ilii'tiii'iil Spiril n ImuKot'itim tlit> Inliiiliiiiiiils III' ilii' jiiwcr IuihIh, " Ai li'ii^ih iii^lil ('llllll' tl) my n lii I'. Ami IIS il lu'canui so ihii-k thai 1 coulil iml iiiiii'i't'il, I Niuiffht II dry H|ioi, whi'i'i', miviiif; cnllrrli'il Hoini' (<|irui'ii lioii^'lis mid li>in(>8, 1 ruriiii'il II Niit'l hctl, ii|iiin wliirli I liiid thi> iiirniii, ilu' Mill lit' |Ik> red chirr, my i>iily n'miiinini; Iioih>, "Hill I was Miiiii iihllyri'il In take llli> i'hild iii'.nin in m\ miihn, Willi |lii' diirk- iii'SM, iliii wohi'.H hud giithi'i'i'd iti'oiiiiil »in'. 'I'hry |iiiri'iil t5ui iiir wiili ihi'ir hiiwlhigt; iiml uiih I'Vi-ry iiiinuii>, ihi-y ii|>l)i'ou>'h) lii'iici' tliini llir llllll- ofjnuy. I liiu'w, loo, till' )lM'l' 111 iIk' linimin Suh'C, nvri- lioili iho Wiilt' mill ilii' Im'Iii', Hut iiiiiil- Ji'lli'd liy I'Xi'i'Ns ol' hinmiT, III' iijii'ilrd in tUry, iiii'l I'lii ntf tVnm U'li'i'Ui. I ri'iiiiiimil Nih'iil.lill liny ii|)|ii'iivri1 iihnni In i<|iriii^ ii|iiiii me. T)ii>n, with ihi' yi'M nl n win rinr, iimidMl till' ti('al|iiiiK' nl his I'lii'inii's, I iitl'i'i^'hti'd thi'iti tVnm ihrir |iiir|insi'. Iliil ihi'y rrluriiwd, »lil| ti|>|ii'iiiii'hin|yi iiciiri'i' uuti tit'uii'i', iinlil ihi>y iiM'iiiiiwi'i'id my yiiiri'fiy thi^'lt' hi-wiinuHt nr, I'min rii'iiiii'iii i'i'|ii'liliiiii, my I'UcN iind IhnI nil pnui'i' In I'M'i 1' llli'ir Irnl ■!. " Ihil li\ till' I'niiil lii^hls ill llii' iiiirllii'i'n sky, I I'onlil I'oNN ilisiiii^iiiKh ihi' Imldi'sl 111' ihi'iii', mid, diii'lin^ rrnin llii' lri'i< n^niiisi which I Hinml, wilh my Inmii- Iiiiw k, I t'ln\i> ihc hi'iul nl'llio Inri'imisl lit tl Hiujih' Nlrnkc, mill ihc ichI, I'nr ii liiiii>, I'i'Irciili'il." Hill lii'i'c llic liidimi I'll!' n mnmcnt iiiiUM'd: ihcn Willi Knp|ircMMcil I'lnnlinii III' coiitinucil. " And now, Adiilic," snnl he, •' I iip- lirniii'h the Slid i'iiliiHirii|ilii>, ihiil, Iind linl Ahlnmilh liM'd, Wnllld IllIM' li'I'l lill' I'liicl' 111' I'l'tl men childhiNs, nnd, liiii fur ihy I'liihcr'N cniii|iiission, lhi< |U'nic('tnr nl' his int'mil, u yitgiihiind, wilhmit hiiiiian Mymimthy. tht> iiHuiioiiid* of wild b(>uati, THK HKD INDUNH OK NKWJNMINIU.ANIl, tl II III'i| I tliiM'Dinimnion nt'llu' iri'iulii'ruurtWiilt'.aiMl till' liiTcc lni»r, si'i'ltiiifr. elm inti 'I'"' si'iisuii lit' irn'I'M ll'MM'"*. till' lllil'lv Cl'MT (if till' lums III' llii> hill'-, mill linliiit^, ilnrinii tin' Hiiiiws, ill (li'i'|i iHvi'iiis, iiiiii wliit'li II iiiy it' till' (Jf«mt S|iiril'!< iiiii»(<;«' iH'vcr iiilfr^. " Mv tl"' n'liiuil III' lliit wiilvi'H, I niiiiii'd II iiiiiiiH'til til I'i'lli'ct, mill iiiljiisl my inrii- siiri'H I'nr liikiii^; iiil«iinliit{i' nf tlu' iii- I'lTllSCll liri|ilr.lU'SS III' llu' illCtlllstllllt liulii-i III llii' iinrliii'ni sky. I «ii'< imt ImiK '" (li'li'l'llliuillK. I iili^t ImUllil llli> |illlii'lll inrmit III my bit«tU, iw Im'Tiui', it liml iH'vcr iilliTi'd H cry- uiul tliiiiinn rnuii till' tliii'Ui'l, liy >li<' siiiiH' l«iiikliiii{ tiri's lliiil liftlilcil my «iiy. I '^i' lUn'iiiil my I'liui''*!', lliiii I mi)^lil. '• iiii-tHililc. riiilli' ll|i"ii till- (ii'ciil iImt, iiIiimi' sumo III' its iiiiiinMiiiis vs'liirl|iiiiils mill ru|iii|M, ihriMi^li wliii'li tim JSliiMiiiu' I'liiuii's imilil nut IIIISH. "I T'liiml till' WMV iiiiiiili'nn)ili'il, 1111(1 llii> f^i'iiiiiul rM'ii. lliil ! hull nut |ii'ii- ri'i'di'il I'm', lii'l'iii'i' I ilisi'iiM'n'il I Imt ii wliiili' liiTil III' uul > I's luir-iinil 1114', 'I'll iiiilniii lliiMii, wiiH iiii|iiissili|(<, 'I'll hIhiw Id III riii'llii'i'. Anil uliiit ciMilil II 'tingle tiriii iiri'iiili|iliHli itfiiiillNl a liiiHl III' rmnislilii^', liiMisIs III' iMi'y'i' Till' iiiily \V)'ii|iiiii I llldllglll IIMlilllllll', WIlM lllllt tvllil'll llllll IxM'll lll'l'llt'l' HIICri'HSrul. I Ktll|l|>l>tl, I |iliii'i'(t mysi'll' ill nil iiltilmli' nf (Iclriiii', iiml i iiKiiiii nii>'li> llio nil- ling with ihi> liiiii'M III' ili'lliiiiri', III till' lii)iln's| pilch III' my Miifo. Till' wiiUcs nuiiin fur n iiiu- iiii'iil rclii'iili'il, mill I IIS Miiuji ri'iH'wi'il my riiiirsi'. 'Iiu-y tiiniril, iinil slill I'ul low I'll my Nli'pH, Anil i'»('ry miiinli' liny iii'i't'iiNi'il ill liuliliii'sx, till lliiiy Kiimi'linii'N ii|ipi'iiiii'li; iipiiti llii< lmlii> III mv liiii'U. Milt tln'V n • li'i'iilcil iiH nl'ii'ii uH 1 liii'iii'il til ili'I'y tlii'in, " llt'l'iirc till' iliiy, liiiwi'vi-r, \»iis fur ml- viiiii'i'il, I rmiii' tipiiii 11 liiuMil sii'i'iimi mill, us I lii'iinl ilii> I'liiiinii'l lit III! gi'itiil ills tiiiii'i', I il)>liiriiiiiii> iipnmi ami Innnilt oi tin' Miili'iH, fiiiiti I'lilliiwinK mi' llii'iini.',li llic ilmiui'iH wliic. ihiiy stunii'il lu prcsiiii. " I ciiiitiiiiii'il III ki'i'p llii' nviT ill view, iNillmui vi'iitiirini^ nciir llii' i'iIkh uf its limili, tliuiigli I iliil nut lii'lii'\t>, Nil iiipiil w'liN its riHii'si', llnil any Micmar niiiui< I'liiilil liy this tiiiii' hiiM' iillmiii'il tin' Maiiin mint nf llli> mIi'i'iiiii, i nnw liu liiimnli i'lKiM, unil I w'us ill ||ii|M'N (if lrii\iiiK my IcNs (iAnKi*i'iiui> I'lU'init'H licliintl nu', wliiii I rruss(>il lli(> sti-iMini. Al lt'iij(;lti I r<>H<*ii(> loutit, I tii|jiis|(» llllll llllll fu||u\M'(| mv slips |u ||m> cd^o iif ilii' sti'cmn, iliii'i'il nul leap in; mid lit liist 1 made my way with yii«il t I'ivpr, a wliirpuul KW'i'pt iiiK iiilii its viii-t<>X, Kriim iliis in'w- iliin);i>r, I with ilitHcidly I'Xiriratt'd niysi'lf. I was nut, Iniwcvi'r, Iniifi I'lci' tn piiisnc my way tuward l|ii> sliuri', hi'l'iiii" I iiniiiiinlcrt'd a j(rcaU'i". iViiuilicr whii'lpuiil I'lirrii'd mi> into lll«> riiiiniinv; liiiiiidl of ri'vulvinii; witlcni, ill ! till' vi'iy liiiNc of the (treat CHlarint iisidf. j " Kruiii lli( inyKidl', ' ivithunt a loiii; and iirdiiuiis strni^ijb't bill Mich was ('■•.<'< i({uiir of tlicso jiiidm al that time, that I limilly t!;'* red lieopleof a fiilnre warriur of the ra«'e of llielr chii'ls, and his prolcctor of nil I'.ruiinils of |io|H>, mid all inulivii of pro- loiiKcd lifii, " III my rorlorn coiidiiioii, I sut invHidf down upon the riM ky lieaeli, ciireteiii, alike. III the .Mninin s, and of their lenii I riii'l iillies, Ihe hiiistsut the woikI. 'I'lie lifeless hody nf the child could nut nvnil nie. ( >ne i'oiisoliii({ thoii^hi, uloiio, re- lii'vml my hruken spirit lln> smi of IMtAWAll Wlis nut 11 jirey lo llie enemies of I'imI itioii. I liiirncd his liuiics; t|{ather)>il his luliKmi mill I sonulil {nipliHlii>d, my mind was u hiile relieved. Mut I knew tint wlial III delermine iipuii. The desire llllll I liiil lluw fell, to meet ■((nin the WMiriurs of my irihe, was liiriied into ^I'ciiler terror and dreitd of eiii'oiinterih); iheiii, lliaii I had hel'oic had of lli«) vei y eni»H>d Hinril to aid nic in clioosing tlu> diixTtion whioh 1 slionld take, whothcr for tlu' conntrv of tho rod tvibo, or that of tho hloak hills of tlu* noithor-land. I nU^pt again; bul tho Groat Spirit an- Rworod not my prayor. Tiion wiicn I awokp I adfhvsscd my petition, oven to tho Kvil Spirit. Deop MO(>p again ovcr- oamo mo, and n»y impious prayor was anHWorod. 1 saw, in my droam. tlu> whoto Iribo of roil mon assoml)lod, witli their good ehiof at their hea«l, to receive mo. 1 thought the red eamp iung with the Gxuhing eries of the w arriors. as tliey congratulated n\y return: ami I was transported with enjoyment. Ihit the pain whieh 1 sntVered, in my endeavour to i*oneoal the natural impression of the in- ward joy whieh 1 felt, awoke nu"; and springing upon my feet, I exelain\ed, ' I am again a red man. My fears wmc without gronmls. My shame without a motivv I thank thee, mysterious iSpirit. Tliy seers I will aeknow ledge: at thy altar 1 will saeritiee.' "'And wherefow,' said T, eontinuing tho same strain, ' w jjerefore have 1 tie- §livted to ask the counsel, ami aid, of the pirit, whtnu wiM'all evil? It is to him alone I should have adt> mo as a roil man still loistained by the service of thoir enemies. The Spirit that has answered my prayer, will p\it to eon- i\ision their ill -gnunuUMl, their \m_gcnerous suspicions.' "While my mind was thus elated be- yond all IxHinds, i fell my wonted bodily vigour return; and, with the next dawn, I sprang*forw ard in the diriTtiou of the country of n\y tril>e. I tastetl iu> frries that lay in my way; but my strength did not fWilmo; and, by tho rotum of night, I was even at the foot of the hill which overlooked the capital villago of n>y trilto. It was now too dark to ascend its craggy steeps: Hud, exha\iHled with hunger and fatigue, 1 laid myself down, and again court<>d sleep, which once nu)re overcanu- me. Ami now a new vision appearetl. 1 thought 1 saw the spirits of my fathers. They passed by me, more in nund)er than the living tribe. Aiul as they came and went, somehungtheir heads, some scowled upon mo: and, some stood amonuke. " I could not doubt from whom my tlreani jiroceeiled. The patron spirit of the Micmaes had deceived me; and the patron of my tribe had presented tho spirits of my I'sitlu'rs. " Ihil y(>t, again I slept, and I thought I ascemled the hill befor(> me; and, as I looju'd down ujioiv thebeloved i)lain where my people dwelt, two warriors darted froiu the thicket on «'ilhcr side of me. They were the scouts of my people. 'I'hey approached me. attirst, with seeming siir- jirise, then they glared upon me, like the spirits of my fathers 1 had before seen: but they were silent. I questioned them concerning their silence: but they did not reply. 'J'hen I asked them about the comlilion of Ottawiih, ami his ]ioople: but they hung their heads, and turned to de- I>ari. Then, raising my Miic«', I callo«l aloud to them to listen to me for a mo- ment. They remained, but diil not speak. Then 1 related a brief history of all that had befalliMi mo since the dreadful night of my capture, ui) to the death of tho mn of Otiawali. Tliey listened attentively. Ihit, when my tal«' was doiu', they ex- claimed tog(>ther, as with one voice, 't'an ft sla\e utter the trufhl" and at the same moment they disappeared in tho depth of the thicket, from which they had issued, and immediately 1 t'wulic. "As 1 opened my eyes upon the dark- ness, 1 understood my vision. "'(ilreat and good Spirit,' .said I. •from what a fate hast thou delivered me : from w hat shame hast thou saved the red people. Ihit, for thy warning, a red warrior liad returned to his people, a Micmoc's slave! I will dwell witli tho iM^ast^*, and dig my own grave. Tho r«Hl |M>ople will not know thoir nhaniv. The THE.nr,n Indian^ or NKWFouNDLAwn. nn HpirifH i)f my rnthcrH may ypt recelvt IIH'.' " I pasHPd tho rcnminilor of llio time of (larkiM'Hs inori' traii(|iiilly; anil, whrn day irtiirtu'd, I riin(irin<'(l niyHolf ill my rf'Ho- lulion to (Iwi'll for over upon Mit< fuMghts of tlu< mountninH, anil in tliirnn anil vM'tM of the rorUn, willioiit human rompanion, witbo\it Iribi'; anil without a hiipo, navi> a ro-union with tho lirail. " With infirm anil tromulousHti'p, I imw ilirri'ti'il my i.'oursi' towariN tho hi^hi-Ht lanila I roulil m<<<: anil, for many ilayn, I wnndornt from hill to hill, thronirh all that I'ountry that I know to hn without itH (ril)o, anil tho scoiu' of no objoot of human ontorprisio. It tho bottor suitoil my disposition, that it waH Holomn and p;loomy. Hut its Roant^y produco of berrios, whk'li was tho only lood I oould nroeuro to app^'iiHo my laj^iuf; luin(j;or, oblifrml mo to nook this Hiioro in tho bono of mootinfr with Ronio of tho ampbibioiit animaU, with whii'li it abounilH. Ailnlio knows tho rost of my biHtory. Whon 1 llrst saw lior, I boliovod that I bohold tho Hhado of tho infant Ron of Ottawah. Hut lot tho dau^htor of tho liordoftho Mountain now dry hor oyos, and proparo to moot hor fathor, and tho son of tho rod ohiof." CHAITKU XVIir. Tlip miniiiii'r'ii miii nim In tlin nrcul ; Yi't fnr iihiivo liin owning rmt; A tlioiiiiiinil rloiKla In Hir illit|iliiy'il Tlii'lr tti)iilliiK l"li'" ill liK'it iiiiil uliiulf, 'I'liit nky, lik)< oi'iMin'n ('liiinni-lii, iiin III toiiK iiioniKliTiiig Klrniki holwi'i'ti. MoNTdllMHnY. " NoMit Itiil Iil8 liri'lliri'ti lip, anil KlRlPrH, know, Wliiini tli(> klixt yoitlli prof'r'il In nir. (Jowi.BV, " III loving Ihoii (lu'Rt wfill, In piiinion nut." I'AHAIimR LoRT. " AiIIhii, jre inunntiiliiii of llin I'linio Wlioro ((riiw my yniitlirnl yrurii } Wlii'ro t.iR-k nn is doomed to become (he bride of a white man. '• I have of late, iiuleed," he continued, " myself observed, that tlie youth is less urgent ccmcerning his return to his peo- ple. He now more rarely makcm mention of his tribe. The mountain has become more endurable to him. I will not con- ceal from him my intention of speedily carrying into full eftectmy long conceived designs." The white exile's resolution was not long formed, before measures began ^o be taken, for its being put into execution. The inhabitants of the mountain, how- ever, yet passed some days more in their usual occupations, before the plans of the father of Adalie were complete, or his wishes promulgated to the willing agents of all his undertakings. The white man had now been for se- veral days more thoughtful, and less communicative than usual. But this had not been observed by Ahtomah and Adalie. They were too much engaged in the familiar interchange of their own thoughts, which as the confidence of Adalie increased, began now to occupy all their leisure hours. The young Indian related, from time to time, such portions of the traditionary history of his tribe, as he judged best adapted to excite the interest of the white maiden, o" such as served to display the ancient .laracter of his people, their former greatness, and the decline of their power. He then related all that was known among them of the ancient pro- phecies of the seers, and added many discursive observations, concerning the hopes of restoration to their former power, which all the warriors of his tribe still cherished. From these, his favourite subjects of discourse, he sometimes de- scended to matters of more familiar in- terest; and delighted to describe the cus- toms, and domestic habits of his nation. At other times, he dwelt upon the account of the skirmishes, or predatory warfare of the red warriors, in which ho had been himself engaged; and, to all that dropped from him, Adalie ever lent an attentive Ct.r. She alternately shud- dered and exulted involuntarily, when he related the heroic deeds of his peiple, whenever they met the IMicmacs, face to face; but she wept when he described the scalping of an enemy by the party that gained the advantage of the day; but above all, she rejoiced that he had not been engaged in any of those ruth- less massacres of helpless women and children, which had so often been the issue of the strife on both sides, and was the immediate cause of the present war- cry of the contending tribes. Thus tiic gentle Adalie, as she daily listened to the relaticms of the young Indian warrior, felt every time they dis- coursed, yet greater and greater curiosity concerning the compatriots of her com- THE RED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 55 panion, and every hour new interest in all that related to the tribe over which he was reserved to rule. In the meantime, it became more and more visible to the cooler judgment and awakened apprehen- sion of the father of Adalie, that the sug- gestions of his prescient Indian companion, had not been made without sufficient cause for ! parent's alarm. But if it did not appear that the same irresistible passion possessed the breast of tlie youtiiful ludian, whom wo have not seen unconscious of the charms of tlie maiden, tlic course of the tale will suffi- ciently explain the seeming apathy or stoicism of the native of the forest. But Adalie was most of all curious about all that related to the women of the tribe. She frequently questioned the young warrior cnnnerning their civil posi- tion, and the degree of respect paid them by the other sex, and the occupations in which they usually engaged. But when she perceived that Ahtomah sometimes grew melancholy, during the course tif her inquiries, she pu' a restraint upon her desire of obtaining all tjie infornuv- tion the young warrior could 'rivt; her concerning the world which shi* had not seen; and they conversed on such subjects, as their daily occinations suggested. But one nu)rning, as they sat at the mouth of the cavern, and Adalie had not been able to restrain ht. curiosity con- (^erning the red women, she observed that her companion was still more thoughtful than usual. " And why is it, Ahtomah," said she. " that, when I speak of the wives of your warriors, your eyes are cast upon the ground? And vet wherefore do I ask?" she added. "For well I know the ))ast. Too well I know the cause of tile assembling of the red warriors. But I will not spuak of these horrors. 'Tis against my father's commands. We are not to spend our whole time in discourse. And here comes my father," she added, as she saw I ho white man approaching; " but not before it is time to remind us of our duties. " Ahtomah's dominant thoughts, in the midst of all he experienced, were of his return to his tribe, and of the restorntiuu of the ancient fan e of hiti people. Thus, his reserve, which had been taken by the white n?an for content, when he first rellected upon the suggestions of his faithfid red companion, arose in reality from a contrary source. It was no won- der then, that he, on this occasii n, little heeded the latter words which fell from Adalie; and, as the white man approached, the young warrior, unc nscious of his presence, involuntarily e.xclaimed, " 1 will dwell no longer in this mountain. I must obtain my freedom. My tribe are, by this time, again a prey ♦o the Mic- macs. I have deserted them. Adalie, child of another race, lead me to the good Angel of the Mountain. Thou callest him father. Intercede, then, with the representative of the Great Spirit, for the restoration of a depressed race. I will remain no longer in this cavern." " Young w.irrior," said the exile, as he approached, " thy virtue is not unknown to me. I come to tell thee, that the pei'iod of thy sojourn in the mountain is accomplished. With the lirst streaks of the next morning's light, the inhabitants of the cavern descend the western side of the mountain, perhaps, to ascend it no more. Be ready, uiy children. And thou, Ahtomah, prepare to meet the good chief, thy father, and the warriors of thy tribe." The resell ion of the exile was a cause of great cxu. ation to all the; inhabitants of the mountavn; and they employed the rest of that day, in making preparations for their departure : and, in the evening, they were led by the father of Adalie to the eminence above the cave, that they might witness the last sun-set from the most elevated pinnacle of their mountain home. As they gaiiu'd the highest peak of the mountain, the sun was fast sinking to a level with the floods of mist, which rested upon the bosom of the denser air beneath them; and his oblicpie rays, exhibited to their viciw, a variety of forms and shades, which the light, as it fell upon the vapours of diffi'rent densities, at every moment, seemed to chang<'. Sometimes the mists appeared like a bright ocean, whose swelling seas rolled in rajiid motion, from the hori/.on upon one side, tv> the limits of !h(^ view upon the other. Then there appeared shapeless hills and mountains, where order seemed mingled with dis- t.i'der, as if soii\e hand unseen, were fonning out of the exhalations of the eaj-m. h, th proper elements of a new wonu. The iiryiug mists were now more divided; and, as the declining orb ap- ]>roaehed the hori7.on, the njiper (-louds gathered around hiui; and his eft'ulgent rays, now shot through an opening that wiis encircled by bright uud motionless vapours; and as they fell upon every object within the compass of the view, the whole scene exhibited a spectacle of inconceivable magnificence. *' Look upon this glorious show," said 56 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OP the white man. " That bright arch that thou beholdest, is the portal, the way, which conducts to the world of spirits where the God of white men and of red men reigns. This gorgeous exhibition, is but the impeifect figure of the reality, which is unseen. Look on those beams of light: observe that burnished pathway. 'Tis the ingress to the dwelling of the Eter- nal Spirit. 'Tis the window of His palace, whence, enthroned, He looks upon the earth, and oversees all things that He hath made. Such is His habitation. And there, dwell the happy spirits of our fathers, puri- fied from the corruptions of earth, and subject no more to death. My children : treasure in your memory this glorious show. Nothing will ye again see that resembles it, until the Great Spirit shall summon the dead, and the reality, in place of the semblance, appear." The radiant orb was now obscured for a moment: then appeared again, as he passed across the opening which now separated the upper clouds from the rolling mists beneath them; and his full beams, once more, illumined the wide ocean of vapour, which was now broken into islands of silver and gold. Then, as lie dropped beneath the unsubstantial liorizon, the brilliant upper sky, and the lakes of sparkling mists below, gi'a- (lually i'aded away, and night began to draw her envious curtain over the mag- nificent scene. The Lord of the Mountain turned to Adalie, who had been over affected by his discourse. " Come hither, my child," said ho, " why weepest thou ?" " I scarce know," said the maiden. " I should rejoice. But shall we never again see the sun in his unclouded brightness? What in nature shall conipencate for the loss of the scene we but now beheld? Shall we never see the firmament, nor sun, nor moon, nor stars, but through such dense vapours as now roll beneath us?" " Thou hast forgotten, Adalio," said her father, " the bright days that thou hast spent, on the opposite side of the mountain, upon the beach. The brightest of sucli as tliou hast seen there, thou shalt see for ever, in the land where thy fathers sleep." And with this, the white man embraced his <'hild; and they all returned together to the cave. liut as the necessary connection between the events which our nnrrutive embraces, requires that we should not lose sight of the warriors of the nation, over which the }'oung Indian now residing in the moun- tain, seemed destined to rule, we must I'e- turn to the occurrences at the encamp- ment, upon the awful night, when the tempest arrested the pious ceremonials of the worshippers of the patron Spirit of the red tribe. CHAPTER XIX. "The charm dissolves apace; And tts the morning steals upon tlie night, Melting the darkness, so their rising senses Uci;iii to chase tlie ignorant fumes that mantle Tlii'ir clearer reason." Tbmpest. When wc took our leave of the Indian warriors, we left the altar of sacrifice overthrown, and the people struck down, or scattered, and falling to the earth, be- wildered by the darkness, and terrified by the manifestations of the wrath of their offended Deitv. The first of the warriors that recovered from the effects of this universal terror, was the father of Ahtomah, the chief of the red tribe. When he raised his head f'jin the ground, he found the violence of the storm abated; and the soft rays of the moon, as they faintly penetrated through the mists, just afforded sufficient light to enable Mni to distinguish the nearest objects about him. " Ahtomah, my child," exclaimed Otta- wah, as he arose upon his feet, " where art thou? and where is the sacred altar?" A few fire-brands was all that re- mained of the holy pile, without a trace of the offering that had lain thereon. None answered the demand of Ottawah, and not the breathing of a warrior reached the ear of the chief. And the dead silence of the night was only broken at intervals by the fearful howling of the wolves, which seemed to await but the total extinction of the fire, to rush upon their helpless human foes. The chief now stooa upright; but he could distin- guish nothing save the embers of the burnt wood, which the wind, at intervals, as the i.' rands dropped, excited to flames. Then, ii a louder accent, he again called upon \'l: people. " Does no warrior live?" ex- < lali.ied the chief of red men. " Has the Great Spirit swept his people from the face of the earth ? I am alone!" At length, the seer, Uttermoot, whose counsel had been despised in the assembly of the warriors at Ortawee, feebly replied to the repeated demands of the chief. " Is it thou, Ottawah, chief of red men that speakest?" said the evil seer: "Is it thy voice which calls upon the prostrate warriors to arise? And dost thou, indeed, still live? Alas! who else ha. .mrvived the horrors of the night? The demon, THE KED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 57 rili]i|'lilii^iiflli!iri)f|lllj^^^ ir.oro strong than the angol of the tribe, has dostroyed our people. Wo slioiilcl first have averted his wrath. Wliereforo did wo not sacrifice to the Evil Spirit? And why was it, that wo had not confi- dence in the blessing of the good? Whore is now the future chief of me red tribe? Lies he, astounded, like the rest of his race? Or has the Jealous spirit caught him up into the clouds, and dashed him against the earth, in the presence of the patron angel of the red tribe? Where are our warriors? Tho storm is abated. n The day is at hand. Let us search, if perchance, there yet remain a remnant of our devoted tribe." The chief now sounded the conch which hung by his side; and, as by magic, the warriors wore ro-animated. Some sprang upon their feet around him. Others issued from their shelter among the bushes upon either side, or arose from their cold bed upon the even plain. The well known sound was repeated, and all tho people re-assembled in the presence of tneir chief, more rejoiced to flS on'AWAH, THK r.AHT CHIKF OF hear liis voice, hh hv stood once more erect atnoiifr tlieiii, tliiin tlmnkt'iil (or their own preaerviition, or the ces.mition of the evils that had overwiielnieil them. The (hiwn nCdiiy hiul now eomo to the relief of the red men, and there was light onoiin!;li to (listiiiKMiHli the objonts ttrolTtMl them. The warriors pereolven the ab- sence of the youthful soil nf (Ittawah) l)iit noni' venturecl to iWllkh MV Ihtltlirjr eoneerninf>- him. Snttlt) Hfct-te rGStraitietl hy their natural tatiiturnity t ifrhilfi othero feared, that itinuiry iitiffnl had to the discovery of aontfl stain tlpoit thft fair tlia- racter of th0 SOU of thldt' oiiief, Tiio chief himself #a8 citnfbniuit>(l, whfcn lie perceived tho abflentio of liU Ron; but no ungenerous »U.ipiciotii^ (lis lirUCHlhUbrens'.. The tfood Ottttwah's aibnilon was '-ow directed to tliq sbef, w lO, utiobf itved. had picket) tip tnh girdle, which ivntoinah had dropped Upon tlic ground by the desin- of Adttlie, b^fi)re the white nmidcn con- ducted him to the eateni of the mountain. And tho advocate of tho worship of the Kvil Spirit, now holding no the (okon of his triumph, to tnfe Th'W of all usscthbled, thus oxelaimet): "Beholtl the sole evi- dence retnatning;, that a yonthflil warrior lived. iiOok («|)4m all that remaitif) of what appertidiicd to our promised chief. He hath ikiUn A sacriflce before the Jealous wrath of an ofllinded l)eity. The demon hath eon!tumed him, and by the side of the Tcry altar whicli In- iii'msolf had flretl In (it?edle«8 HacrlHee to the tafny dispenser of kood, and at the very gate of your ffuatHliait spirit's habitation. Tiie Evil SprrU, itnom we should alone ffcar, hath sttcrlftted tilt* Son of Ottawah. iM us return to otit* hunies, prepared to pro- pitiate the oft^Miden power. liOtus try to turn away hi" Hng^r, and avert the conse- ilvuMicM of his fUtthter wrath." All tioW stflod astounded anew, by what they saw, and wliat they heaftt. The chief, only, ventured U^ speak. "Seer of the red tribe," said Ottawab, "foreteller of future events, and observer of the li};;hts in the sky! Thonnh iiu- learucd in th(> sigi\s which the heavens exhibit. I yet venture to hope, that during;; the violence of tlic lenipesl, and the visible wralh of the oflVnded demon, the Anjvel of the Mountain nuiy have ])ro(ecled Ahdmiab. Some benevolent spirit has, perhaps, descended (hrouub the storm; and Ahlonuili has ascended the nmuntain; or whercfori' this reuimmt of his garment ? 1 will not despair. These aged arms shall, once more, enibrace the promised restorer of the glory of the red tndiaji tribe. Have not our fathers foretold 11? My spirit shall HO(m join them in the country of Shades." " So to believe, great chief," said the evil seer, "were inubily lo exalt the powers of good above tiie spirits of evil at the very Instant that ye have s( en and felt the consenueiuM's of your late false impressions, ilad the propitiatory sacri- flco been offered to the demon, instead of tile angel of good, all had been well. For what hurpose your vain supplications to hlin, from wIkhu good, when it will come, naturally Hows? What need we to ask for goo(f, where good alKiunds? Appease the powers of darkness, and the angel of light shall unveil his glory, ur manifest his power," 'i hen, in r more porsuasivo abct*nl thai\ that in whicli he had before spoken, the se(>r thus finished his address. " It is meet, then, warriors, that we should abandon thJs frightful wreck of o\ir late supplications, and, assembled in general council, look ibr srimo sign from the skies, for somo token from the agents of destiny, that attend upon thft powers of evil and of good, ond determine our joys, and our wot>s." The logical appeal of the advoOate of thl? Evil S])irit was not. withoui its effects; (Uid it was responded to, as it might have been expected from a people now smart- iftg under disasters, apparently arising ft-om tidtiug an opposite course to that which was bi'lore recouMMended by the Fame seer: an«l, their general n-urtsent to lis ^oposition, was ■Igniiica i)y a:: uni- versal ery of " Artawntawiokl Arhahoo! Let us return to Ortawec! I.rf;t Us await a sign !" TJiey now chose one or two warriors from each of the parties that were with them, to accompany tho chief and his own immediate rbllowers, to his capital; and tho rest of the people from the more distanjt sbtilcments dispersed, and de- pn.ttl)d to their several homes. Tiie march of Oftawah and bis war- riors was such as heeanie the solemnity of tlu' time, and the gravity of the Indian character. When they entered their capital village, they found their old men full of in(iiiietiule concerning the result of the sacrifice, and anxiously awaiting their return. Rut when the aged warriors came to bear of the ill-success of the oHering, and the signal vengeance of the Evil Spirit, they covered their ftices, and hung their heads, in sign of their silent sub- mission to his will. But when the chief apprized tJiem of the mysterious disab- pearanco of Ahtomah, though he accom- panied the sad tidings >vith the flatteting THE RKD INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 59 cxproHsions of his finnt'Ht hopes, nothing (•(I'.ihl uxcocd their ,u;ritt'; iiikI they broke fortli in exi'iiiiimtioiiH, sueh an were never heard amoiiff red men, but wlieii thvy believed themselves uihUt tiie immediate eorretitioii of their deit^,, either in his awful visitations by fire, ov flood, ',vhi(-h had burned up, or swijpt uway their habi- tations; or, when tempests and earth- ipiukes, had overthrown the hills, and, liftinfr the very rivers from their beds, had turned into new channels, the deepest streams. "Is the precious scion of all our hopes," they exclaimed, " then l)lighted in its llower? Is the youns piin? of the forest fallen? The plant which our Imnds have watered, is blasted, and (iust to the earth in the day of its bloom, 'i'hc unblown [)ledg(^ of the Great Spirit's promises to lis people is withered, cut off, burnt, and melted into air. Our expectation was a shadow. Out dream of future greatness is vanishef', Then must we flee to the last limits of the land, and perish >ipon the hills, or whiten the fxiacli with our dishonoured bones. The shadeu of our fathers will not rust. Where is now our home?" In Kuch bewailings as these, did tho old men indulge, whil(> the It.-ss aged war- riors, encouraged by their chief, exhorti-d their companions to maintain the cha- racter which bi'came their ra('e. But they did not cease from these expressions of their grief, until, at tlic command of Otta- wah, they entered their several dwellings. CHAPTER XX. " Iina({« of pride, why shuiild I hold my peacu." llKunv VI. " A siihstitiitu tihincs ns brightly as a l(itig, ITntll ft king bu liy." Mbhciiant ok Venice. The proper religion of the Red Indian was simple, sublime. It consisted in the belief in one (heat Spirit, incompre- hensible to tho understandings of men, beneficent, self-existent, and eternal, and, in an Evil Spirit of limited and temporary power. But notwithstanding these ele- vated conceptions concerning the govern- ing principle in the universe, ^^^tiperstition, so often known to triumpli even over culti- vated reason, had among the nations of these desolate wilds, and, with her ac- customed disregard to consistency, super- added other less rational articles of faith. Thus, the Supreme Deity was supposed to be endued also, with at*^ributes of a negative character as regarded the affairs of man, and tho Evil Spirit, with some m<»re positive qunlities, which had given ris(! to ojiposiSe opinions concerning the worship due to the good and the bad principle, out of which had grown two dilferent parties or sects. In the mean- time, it was the univ«!rsal belief, that both the unseen world, and that which wu inhabit, were ptjoplcd with inferior spirits, which were the agents of both the good and the evil spirit; and, that one of these presided over the affairs, and was the patron, of each of the tribes. The more reasonable amcmg thom, ad- vocated the worship of the Supreme Deity, and of the sun as nis representative, or a God of inferior power, and often addressed their petitions to their patron Spirit, who it was believed, resided upon tno moun- tain, th(! proper inhabitants of which we have seen ; out they did not hesitate to attribute to the Supreme Deity, great supinoness, and disregard to the anairs of men. In the mean while, although it was not the opinion of the other party, that the Evil Spirit enjoy, ' equal power with the Good, It was their belief that his service was the more necessary, inasmuch as that the evils men endure, of which he was the sole author, were greater than the blessings they receive; and that, unless he w(>re appeased, he was for ever preparing and applying new torments; whereas the Good Spirit, was too much engrossed with his own enjoyments, and too indo- lent to attend to the petitions of mortal men ; for which reason we received only such blessings as naturally proceed from him, and neither afforded him any plea- sure, nor cost him any pains, to bestow. Moreover, they believed that the goodness of the Supreme Deity was such, that ho did not entertain any jealous envy of hi,- rival Spirit, in the conduct of human affairs; while the Spirit of Evil regarded tho worshippers of the Spirit from whom good alone proceeded, as his enemies, and, as at all times fit objects for tho exercise of his wrath. Thus, it was plain that all the warriors of the worst dispositions, would have a ten- dency to range themselves upon the side of the advocates for the worship of tho evil principle which they feared, in pre- ference to that of the seers who addressed the Good Spirit, whom they despaired of influencing m their favour. It was, however, tho opinion of both {)arties, or at least, an article of faith too ong established among them to be im- gu^ed with security, that the patron pirit of the tribe was one of the agents 60 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OP of the good principle. Yet, differences arose, even concerning the character of the worship* due to him ; upon which point, each party was influenced by the credit they gave to the traditionary history upon which their faith was founded; and that was sufficiently uncertain to raise frequent disputes, and afford the seers on either side, a wide field for the exercise of their malignant feelings against each other. The earlier seers, indeed, seem to have been *oo often endued with the spirit of prophecy; and the interpretation of their prophetic visions, gave occasictn for such speculations as were not always attended with beneficial results. Thus, when any great object was to be attained, the living seers, usually sought for some ancient prediction, that might apply to the cir- cumstances of the immediate necessity; or, they scrupled not to invent a suitable prophecy, which they attributed to some ancient seer. And this practice tended to weaken the authority, and to discredit the better founded, or more rational in- terpretations which were given of some of the predictions, by the more sincere. Great, however, as these differences ap- pear, they had little influence on the affairs of the tribe, except in times of ex- citement. On these occasions the seers which advocated the more rational wor- ship, accused those of the contrary opinion, of favouring the cause of their enemies, who were invariably believed to be the special children of the Evil Spirit; and the seers on the other side, retaliated, by re- proaching their opponents with the failure of their petitions, until the inflamed Eassions ot the warriors subdued their etter reason, and led to results such as we have already seen. In the state of feeling which has been described in the preceding chapter, did the warriors then of every degree, and the seers of the tribe, assemble in the great council hall at Ortawee. The proper object of their meeting, was to consult with their more distinguished seers, concerning the ancient traditions which existed among them, and con- cerning the manifest signs from the Great Spirit, whether apparent in the sky, or known through any other means by which the Supreme Deity \> as believed to admonish, or animate and encourage, his Tne principal subject of their debate on this occasion, and that which was nearest to every warrior's heart was the mysterious disappearance of Ahtomah. Was the son of the chief saved by the interposition of the representative of the Great and Good Spirit whom they deemed the especial patron of their tribe? or, had the demon, when his power was predominant, cast him into the fire, and consumed him in the flames of the sacrifice? The ill-omened seer, who had addressed the warriors beiore they quitted the scene of devastation, was among the foremost to speak. He advocated the same opinion, enforced the same arguments, and ex- hibited the same vehemence for which he had ever been remarkable; and he was loud in his execrations, and his anathe- mas, against those who persisted in seeing the hand of the Good Angel in the event, when the very presence of the Evil Spirit, and his preciominant influence, was at- tested by the horrors of the scenes which they had beheld. At length, a seer who had accompanied the expedi- tion, and who counted more snows than his opponent, and who had more influence than Sutakoo, who opposed the advocate of the Evil Spirit on a former occasion, and who moreover had not spoken in their deliberate assemblies for many years, stood up and addressed the war-» riors in favour of the influence, and the opinion entertained of the interference, of their protecting spirit, and the safety of the son of the chief. "And," said he, as he drew towards the conclusion of his arguments, " what- ever power the agents of evil may elsewhere possess, thej could by no means exert it within the very precincts of the sacred mountain, to the extent to destroy all the long-cherished hopes of the red tribe — to render abortive all the signs that our fathers received — all the prophecies and revelations we possess," " And now warriors," continued the good seer, when he thought their reason sufficiently convinced, " since you have listened with patience to the feeble voice, and seen the last faint efforts, of your most aged seer, let me once more, and for the last time, invite your attention to an ancient especial prophecy, which it would seem by your constant indifference, or your utter neglect, you have long over- looked. Have ye forgotten, that ere the blood-thirsty Micmacs encroached upon our territory, suddenly, and during a storm, many spirits of our fathers came fnmi their tombs, and many seers of the tribe saw their forms, and heard their voices in the forest, and on the plain? Have ye not heard, how they foretold the disasters of our tribe; but especially of the loss of the sun for a season, and, of the new glory in which he should re- part THE RED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAVD. 61 appear ? When did the sun hide his face until now? The glory of the tribe is obscured for a season. Ahtomah, the sun of hope to the red people, has dis- appeared beyond the hills, has set for a season; but, though the night of his absence be full of sorrows he will rise again — he will again shine in the land of his fathers. And, when he comes, he will lead in his train, the moon and the stars of the prophecy — the prophecy, in part already fulfilled. " Warriors," then added he, in con- cluding his discourse, " and chiefs of a race that shall never be overcome, and whose people shall inherit the whole world on this side the Strait, the Great Spirit whom ye have so long served, is full of power and goodness. He can subdue the efforts of all the evil spirits that exist. He has limited their reign. He rules over all, and will subject all things to his will. If he has confounded the hopes of the red tribe for a time, it is, perhaps, that he may the more distinctly manifest his goodness and his power. Let us put trust in his ancient promises." The chiefs of the red people, and all the warriors who had gained influence by their oratory or their deeds in war, were initiated in the religious mysteries of their country; and, whatever their real opinions, they were great supporters of the authority of the seers, and of the tacit acceptance of the faith, which had, at least, the sanction of time, with the observance of the forms which custom had established among them. At least, they so far lent their aid in support of the established usages of their nation, as might tend to the preservation of as much of the ancient superstitions, as should aid in perpetuating the authority of their chiefs though they had probably too often beheld the practices of the seers, to permit them to retain a full convic- tion of the truth of the divine origin of all that they promulgated, and insisted upon. Thus they yielded apparent ac- quiescence to the claims of the seers, and by their examples, at least, seemed to encourage the maintenance of all things that belonged to the established religious usages of their tribe. It was at all times thought the best po- licy, to keep alive the hopes of the tribe, in every thing that regarded the future ; and to this end, from the very earliest date of their decline, their hall of assem- bly had rung with the flattering note of expectation, of the fulfilment of an accre- dited prophecy concerning their restora- tion to their ancient territory, and their lost national glory, and which is that which was referrou to by the aged seer in his oratorical oshortation. Ottawah, their present chief, at least was in advance of the seers and warriors of his tribe, in all that knowledge whicli is only to be gained by such study of human character, as his position admitted. A great proportion of the last twenty years of his life had been spent in'a vain endeavour to accommodate the opinions, or avert the evil effects, of differences and violent jealousies, which continually sprang up among the seers of the nation over which he ruled. He had often ex- perienced the unhappy issue of their dis- putes; and he attributed the loss of his territory, to a want of unanimity in the councils of the warriors, which he deemed, arose in a great degree from the perver- sion of the truth, and the extravagant pro- ceedings of the seers, whose aim was, generally, their own interest, and the aj;- grandisement of their power, in preference to the public good. But such was iho general veneration of the mass of the people for the sacred order, that it was more or less dangerous to interfere with their proceedings, in proportion to the ability and disposition of those around him. In this difficult position the chiof of the Red Indians, finding the seers in- creasing in credit with the people, suc- cumbed to the yoke, or gave tacit assent to the proposals of the party, that for tlie time swayed the opinions of the multi- tude; and he bore with patience, what hi j better judgment condemned as a systera of faith, at least, perverted; and for which, indeed, had there been no better authority than that which the seers pretended, he would have inwardly rejected, as t com- bination of shameful artifices in support of dubious truths, from the beginning. Thus, agreeably to his usual disregard to, or dispassionate judgment of, reli- gious disputes, Ottawah would have no further interfered on this occasion, than he felt assured would be compatible with his character at all times, as a moderatt)r of the violence of personal malignity, and, so far as might not violate any esta- blished opinion, or oppose the predomi- nant feeling of the less-thinking portion of his people; but stimulated by the ex- citing causes which had led to such terri- ble and incomprehensible results, new views or more clear visions, concerning the sacred portion of his responsibilities seemed to open upon the aged chief; and be arose, and thus addressed the war- riors: — "Warriors," said thechief of thercdmen. »2 OTTAWAH, THE LA8T CHIEF OP " let ine exhort you to respect our resolu- tion lit the foot of the mountain. It was proclaimed within sight of the sacred altar. Let us not waste the hours, and oxliaust our strength by vain disputes. Let us await a sign from the invisible agents which preside ovijr the works of the Great Spirit. Perhaps even now, the ancient prophecy, spoken of by vour most aged seer, is about to be fulfilled. Let us not weary the Great Spirit with vain pe- titions, while we stand idle expectants of hia promises. Let us, in the absence of supernatural aid, employ our own best resources for our country's defence. Behold! we hare built a council hall, and established our habitation. Shall we not make our dwellings perpetual? Shall we not erect a temple, like that in which our fathers worshipped? Let us fortify and secure our capital, after the manner of our fathers. When the Eskimohs came upon them, they were driven back into the sea. Let each of you exert all his force for the restoration of his country. In a word: let us unite: first, to provide against any open assault, which the im- pious Micmacs, grown confident by our supineness, may again attempt ; and, next, in raising defences to avert any future attacks. And, having effected these objects, we may ourselves turn our thoughts — oh, happy day! — to plans of invasion, and the conquest of our ene- mies. It is my opinion, it is my advice to you, O warriors, that we should imme- diately set about our defences; and hav- ing provided for our present security, that we should erect a temple to the guardian spirit of our tribe." The discourse of Ottawah was received by his warriors, with the enthusiasm which the sincerity of the chief, and the personal respect which he had obtained, were well calculated to produce; and if their assent to his proposals was not uni- vereal, the agents of evil, whose opposi- tion he most dreaded, were too much confounded, by the success of the simpler eK>quence of their chief, to speak openly, against the measures which he proposed: and the day was not suffered to pass, without practical proof of the willing assent of the people, to the labour in which their chief had suggested they should now engage. CHAPTER XXI. " Man like the generous vine, supported lives ; Tlie strength he gains, Is by the embrace lie gives." POPB'8 E98AT ON MAN. Therb is nothing more remarkable in the character of the nion of the forest, than the lassitude and vic^our which seems altiTnateiy to possess thcni ; and whatever may have been the disposition of the ill- fated race which arc herein considered to be entitled to u superior degree of our sympatiiy, they did not differ from their more sava, whi>n an injnry is iiifliclod by bin I'ncniy, b<> bus, in(U<(>o looNt' a scnwoofnny kindnHJ ties, lon^ to lament tlie b)ss of ibose, wboso ])la(*<'H can bi< quickly supplied, 'I'be red men, id by ibeir new liopes, ibi-i;' love oC tbeir eonnlry, tbeir admiration of tbe virtues of Otiawab, and by Ibe b>ve tbat every warrior bore liis new bride, seemed to believe (bemst'lve.t already inviixible. Wbei) tbe tbongbt of Abtomab crossed their minds, tbcy njectetl tbe sn|;fj;eslion, as of a Knbject too sai'n'd to «'n(j;M(j:e tbeir in(|uiries: and in Ibis confbb>nce, bad Ibey dismissed all tbe auxiliary warriors bat bad aecoin|>anied tbeni IVoni (be Sacred Moui.tnin to assist at tbeir tb-- liberations, and renniincd to aid tbeir lirst ell'orls in tbe forlitication of tbeir <-onnnon <'apital. Anj; tbeir late snlVeriiin;s, and tbe apparent venjjeance of tbe ICvil Spirit, <'v<'rytbin^' seemed |^)ropitionst and tbe tboujjbts of I be warriors, from dwelling on tbeir pre- sent safety, wero even drawn to tbe con- templation, and tbe bopes, of an early rcKtoration of tbe red people to tbeir i'ormer estate of Bccurity and powiT. CHAITKU XXII. "ItlnKtlio uturiiia-lialll" MAClKTir. "An till' mm ri'J» ill IiIm eloinl, iivrr llii< lioc wlilrti III* lii'iiiiiii liitvt' ruliioil, n% U aliiiki'n iu liim>ly lituul (III ilif lioulh) »u Joj'ful l« ilrK:y tboy displayed in tb«> erection of tbeir dofenee:\ Ncemed to promise pernniiient security aftuinst tbeir bnir.an enemies, tbat fresb alarnm threatened the nnhanpy children of Ottawab, with a renewal of all tlu>ir calamities. It was the ctistom of the red trilie, at all times, to keep Hconts \ipon tile bills which lay in the di- r«'ction of tbi< Micmac territory. And not many days aller the departure of tln> auxiliary warriors, as tbe enicf sat, after sunset, in bis w igwani, with several of bis people aroniui bim, the sound ol'foolHleps, tbat indicat(>d too m'cat haste to be per- ceiveil without alarm, wi>re Nuddenly heard wiliiout; and, before tiie warriors ciuild seize tbeir arms, the curtain, tbat buMfj aeroNN the entraiu'c of their frail dwelling;, was thrust asi»le, and one of the scouts entered. " IVepari' brave «'hiefl" said the breath- less intrutler. "The Micmacs are at the tloor of our dwellintfs. They are more numero\is than the lall(>n leaves. Their wea]ions are li);btnin)j; and tbunder." *' (\>llect tbe warriors," said the rliief, as he started from bis mat. " ()ur[)eople slec|). hel tbe women tice to Mie liillsl Wi' have no delViu'esl" Tbe conch WHS inimediatelv blown; and ail tlu' warriors vtow asseuibleil. The rejiorls of those iinion^^ the scouts who had seen the enemy, several of whom bad now arrived, were contradictory as to their numbers, and all was nui'crtain. Tbi' red men, however, determined lodefetiil ibeir capital ; and ewrlin^r all tbeirendeavours, they nuide ii dispusiljon of ibeir forces willi energy and ilispaleh. " The ^ficnllles," said OlliiWiib, " have heard of tbe arrival of the women, iiud steal upon us at a well cbotien season, while we Nlumber in tbe lirst transports of our new alVections. True to their tle- si/;nof extermination, Ibey sutler not their blood to i'ool. Sciirce returned from the late slaufvbter, Ibey ap;ain set out to attack , secure iu our eontidence, tbiit tbeir \en{^eaiice is satistied. ItuI tbe vigilance of the scouts has defeated their purpose. The rud warriors are in isrnis! 'I he corses of the Micnuics shall strew the plain!" The vigilance of the scouts, hniLindeed, atVorded the red men time, bother pre- pariitiot\ and rellection; but a san|ruin:iry contest °.vas evident I \ at band. 'n times of sudilen euiernei\ee or danger, amonf>; the Ued Indians, all debate and dilVereuces of opinion were suspended, and entire submission Niirrundured, with prompt obedience to the edic^' of the cbii'f, into whoH(> hunm no cause to rc^n-t this salutary provision of their law. Tbe elder warriors, ami tbe ymnij^er, bad been already uis<'ly classed, and the part for every oiu' to act, in the event of any sudden attack, skilfully assi^^ned to bim; so that the orders of the chief were no sooner known, Ihaii the whole force was in reiidiiu'ss to reeeivi>, iind to repel, their bated enemies. At tiie same time, the women, iiecouipaJ\ied by several of the elder wiirriorn, were i)roniplly conveyed out of immediate danf);er, lo await the issue of the deadly siril'e. 'I'bii greater part of the warriors wi-ro TIIK Ui;i) INDIANS OK NHWroU \IM..V\I), lit r,f^-f - .i?> \. now DKNontlilrtl, in vsiwi u\i\i v, in IVonl I mituks liis Imi'U, iiml in Ins linlif linntl ho 111' their inrnin|il<'t*> (li'lVnccs, nnd ninlii' Oirriril a s|ii'iir. llu- hlicllcr III' II sprnct' uruNc, win ri' Iht'V 'I'lif I'rsi nt' iho uuri'icirs cann- ntlirod ili'Imnini'd (u csixcl ihiir t'nt'inicN mil arnu'il lilu' lln-ir rliii>r. in all my lln> ll was still l\>ilii;lit, wlnn Oilawnli : in'.i;>ns nl' ili^tiil v wliirlt ho wnn-, Anil, iIiu'imI hinisi'lt' (in ihiM'i^lil nf'liis I'liiiJirnl | ni \\\r\ si I in <>nli'i' kI' liatlli> liKl'iiri' iinl. Il.> IS iiliinil in ill I' iirilinnrN' III.'. I ll\ rhiMiM I, Olli I'MHlninc 111' lii'i irilii ill) III ll i\\\ ah. \\ III! )iri>n( (i I'M iirnaini'iils which <|<>i'im'iiIi'iI his hi'inl uikI his hrt'iisl; Mini hi> was lUMnril wilh n tiinnihnwk, which Imn^ at his iiiih', ii how and i|nlv»'r of iiithwh, which wen- shmp; sui'M'Vi'il all the |iii!'iiih' nf «ar, iiinl, I'Millini', in ihc |iiMs|ii'ct III' \ii|iiry, ho thus adili'i'Msi'd his ir. iiciairs in ariiiN. " Waniiii'H of ihc red trihc," Maid he "The fule iif nnr ancient nntinn retttn 9 66 OTTAWAII, THK LAST CHIlil" OF upon your valour. Tho Micinacs arc at hand. But your women, and your old men, will bo in safety, if you remember your wroiifrs, and iniitale tli(! deeds of your failuirs before oui- name was tar- nisluMl by defeat, and our renown wiped away by our sliame. Jiet every warrior behave, as if the destruelinii of his ene- mies, and the restoration of the red tribe depended ui)on his sini^le arm, and all is yet well. The Micmaes are numerous; nut they believe that the red men sleep. They know not that the tomaiiawk is in our hands, and that the scalpin;^-knife awaits them. The cloud of thiek mist which lies upon tlu> plain, has removed all ternn- from their eyes. Warriors! remember the day when your enemies, serpent-like, passed the scouts on the mountain — the day they entei'ed Ortawec. When we went to the chase, we left u;ir wives in peace. When we returned, where were they? Who sat on their mats ? Where »re our children ? Shall they be the restorers of their country's glory? Shall they recover the fame of your fathers? When shall the prophecy oe fulfilled? llememhev ye not tW vision of the council? or, «u, ye ftuget i\w mi- raculous t^isappcarauw of Aht\i|«iah, who never turned W \^vk upoij a foe? These signs are no jess the eviilence vf the power of kU« Grcft^ Smvit, th*n the in- dication of h(s fftvowV^ *'^^' ^f*^ ^<'^>ple' Perhaps your fuiwrc o^ii*jf is noiw iu tl^* lofty dwelling of the ^^gel o^'our (vihe. or his sacrifice h{^£h aypeused the wrath oi the Great Spirit, wj^\>i naa determined the restoration of l\\ai n^»(!ient neople. Ye have se«^ the for^t ^i«* 9m> ^^'t'> t^^' ground, and the lightning rend the rocks; hut ye have not seen the red warriors fiy before the uplifted arms of their impious foes. Rejoice, then, at this occasion o( proving that ye are men, and ye shi^U strew the ground with the corses of ywr enemies. The stream that flows through the vale, shall dye the great salt lake with their blood. The fires of their tortvire ahall burn. The death of our hated foes shall rejoice o\;r souls. Prepare your weapons. The day is past, nnd tho Micmaes are near." As soon ns the chief had finished this address, the red Indians, at his command, concealed themselves in the brambles tliat covered the grouiul u|)iin which they had determined to make their last efi'or lor the defence of their ca pi till nndtlieirluMueM. But the night iiad not far advanced, when a noise was heard, resend)iing tiuit of the wind, as it rushes lluoiigh a spruce grove. And iu>w, all was again silent. Nor tho note of a bird, nor a breath of air, disturbed the porti'Utous calm. Indistinct sounds were again heai'd. The warriors j;rasped their spears. They deemed that tlu'ir enemies, less wary than themselves, were about to fall into their hands. They fell prostrate, every war- rior with his breast to the ground. A moment passed ai\d they perceived their enemies The steps of the foe were not heard; L it their forms were distinctly s(>en, as they warily approached. The savage strife was at hand. " Arise, red men," cried Ottawah, "behold the enemies of our race. Let every warrior remember the wrongs of his tribe. The red people must be free. The hour of our triumph is come." At the sound of their chief's voice, the red Indians started upt>n their feet as one man; and, they prepared to rush upon their enemies. The Nficmacs were in their turn surprised. They stood confounded. The red men waited but the sign of battle from their chief. The chief wi^s astounded by the bold- neaa {^ ^^is ouemies, wl^o bad never been kpow^ to face their ne another hy Iho intcrmittini!,' h<;lit. Was it iht- bi'- f^inninj>' of such another storm, as that which Iiad so lately tlireatened their an- niliilation? Or was it a signal from tlie Great Spirit to arrest the waste of blood? Or was it the sip^n of the Evil Spirit, that was now about to fiiU upon, and extirpate, the victims of his unappeased wrath? Such were the thoughts which agitated the bosoms of the I'ed men: but they know not that their enemies were per- plexed by the same doubts, the same ter- rors: and each p^rty continued to gaze on the other, with equal apprehensions and dread. All was again still ; and the night was yet darker than before. Hut the dead silence was presently broken by a sound like that of the softest note of the birds of the island; and, while every warrior stf)od terrified by his new doubts, the angel-like form of the Spirit of the Moun- tain, as seen by the warriors at the coun- cil, when the sacrifice to the good angel was resolved upon, was observed with a flaming torch in the right hand, in cross- ing the very ground which yet separated the hostile forces. The iron souls of the savages, that knew no fear of natural events, gave way to (he terwr which the vision inspired. The deadly enemies, on either side, stood paralysed with equal alarm. The spirit again passed between them; and as the light of the torch fell upon their faces, their features were marked with the astonishment and terror which agitated their breasts. A third time it appeared to their wondering eyes: and the aerial form, advancing toward the frtmt rank of the red men. now led by the hand a youth which seemed a warrior. A bright girdle was about his waist, and a high plume of feathers around his head. The heart of the chi»'f was bursting within him. Was it the shade of Ahto- niah, the spirit of his son, that ho now looked upcuj; or, was it, indeed, the future chief of (he red tribe? The re meet the agents of the Great Spirit, and yet, as fallur and ilaught(>r, and human, like ourselves. Heceive them as the superintendents of fate, the messengers of peace, and as arbiters in the afTairs of the contending tribes," CHAPTEH XXIV. "Many tliiniis nrc needful for explication, and innny lur upiiliiation unto particular oconsioiis." HOOKEB. UrON the morning after the arrival of the mysterious mountaineers among the in- habitants of the capital village of the red people, the sun rose without a cloud to throw a shadow upon the mountains, or a E article of mist to obscure his unusually rilliantray; and the warriors were every where seen at the doors of their wigwams, offering up their adorations to the repre- sentative of the Great Spirit, with coun- tenances of joy : and every thing seemed propitious for all that should be under- taken upon tiiat day. After what has been disclosed in the last chapter, of the discourse which took place between the aged chief and his son, in the wigwam of the chief, npcm their first private interview after the reappear- ance of Ahtomah, it is unnecessary to attempt to define the character ot the feelings with which the chief arose from his Goudi, upon the day that was not to close before he had held familiar inter- course with the same Spirit to which he had a thousand times addressed his adora- tions and prayers. And, of the party encamped in the grove, which was now declared sacred to their use, without the shadow of danger of their privacy being violated by the approach of any intruding step, little more need be said, than may recall their position, in relation to the people in the midst of whom they n(jw sojourned. To the clii»!f: the return of his son was an event in itself suthcient to over- whelm his gray hairs with a thousand transports; but the manner of the reap- Cearance of Ahtomah in company willi eings of such mysterious interest, and of a nature so incomprehensible, quite con- founded his reason when he reflected; and itnowseemedas If he could only think, as well as act, entirely by the guidance of his youthful son. The situation and feelings of the white exile and his daughter, may be more difficult to imagine. Nearly sixteen years had rolled away since the good man first took up iiis abode in the moun- tain, and in all that time, he had scarce passed its boundary. An Indian wigwam, though he iiad resided so long in the vi- cinity of the tribes, ho had never seen until ho witnessed the erection, by his red companions, of that in which he now sat; nor hod he, until Ahtomah 's arrival THE llED INDIANS O ' NEWFOUNDLAND. 71 his son to ovcr- housand le roiip- nny with t, and of uito con- oHected; ly think, giiidiince hposed means to its accomplishment, or of the certitude, or incertitude of the results. She had al- ready been employed in transactions, under the diflRculties of the smallest of which, she might have sunk, had she stayed to reflect upon the means by which they were performed, or to reason respect- ing their adaptation to the ends which they accomplished. But she put her trust in hor parent; and she had slept without 8ufi«ring any doubts or fears to disturb her bosom. Eftdy in the day, the women and the 0I4 nion who hao taken refuge in the mountains, returned to the valley of Or- tawee, and the time was spent by the In- dians in passing to and from each other's wigwams, and in, both privately and pub- licly, talking of the events of tne preced- ing day. In the mean time, the young warrior continued, at intervals, to entertain his father with minor details concerning what had passed in the mountain; and the pood chief, in his turn, informed Ah- tomah of the difterences of opinion, winch had existed, among the seers more espe- cially, concerning the causes and pro- bable effects of his absence? from his tribe. Towards sim-set, however, Ahtomah reminded the chief, of the obligation they were imder to see (he mysterious Lord of the Mountain and his daughter; and, ac- cording to a plan concerted with the mountaineers on the preceding day, he now recommended the chief to assemble the warriors. The conch was sounded at the ap- proach of evening; and all the warriors were speedily r sembled upon the same ground where they had the last night witnessed the vision, and seen the event, in their bloodless triumph over the superior forces of their confident ene- aies. The apparent object of assembling the warriors, was to otter a new sacrifice to the Angel of the Mountain, by whose niessenger they had been n^scucd from the horrors of an almost hopeless C(,ntest with their enemies, perhaps, from Uvter extermination ; but the real object, was 10 enable the chief mnd his son to withdraw themselves from the tribe, in such a manner as should '^anse no alarm, and to enable them to remain some time in the grove, without exciting such danger- ous s\ispicion among the warriors, c3 might lead to disclosures that would remove from their eyes, the veil of mys- tery, which kept them in as much dark- ness as it was important to maintain, concerning the means to the great ends proposed. The warriors now, with due ceremony, erected an altar. And, as the custom was, when thanksgiving, and not any special petition, was the burden of their address to the Deity, they sacrificed only a deer, after the same forms which they had used at the foot of the mountain, on a more memorable occasion. As soon as they had concluded all the rites, with their usual hymn, Ahtomah took the chief by the hand. And, when all eyes were bent upon the father and son, the youth, with dignified step, and solemn pace, led his aged parent towards the now sacred grove, and they were soon obscured from view of the warriors. The chief and his son, had no sooner disappeared, than the people, as nre- viously commanded by the chief, witluirow to their wigwams, ^)atientiy, and in pious hope, to await the issue of the imposing events. The young warrior, now con- ducted the chief of the red men to the t»!mporary habitation of his mysterioais t ■ I » ti E ! 72 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OP instructor and friend. The white man received the aged chief, with that dignity and kindness which his nature made easy, not unaccompanied with such mys- tery as the occasion required; and he soon engaged him in conversation, as much adapted to assist his own judgment in forming new schemes for establishing his influence with the red tribe, as in winning the heart of the chief, and gaining his assistance in carrying out his schemes. The Lord of the Mountain, and sup- posed agent of the Great Spirit, did not pass the just limits, which he had pre- scribed to himself, and thought lawful, in the character he had assumed, when he endiavoured to impress upon Ottawah ihe nature of his mission, and the necessity that existed of the most ubso- \te, and unconditional compliance with , '} will. Ho had long conceived himself tc ". . by natural means, the special agent of Ui^ rue God — the messenger of the glad tidings from the Creator: that the soul of man whom He hath formed, he hath made immortal — and that the just shal' hereafter partake of felicity, such as no eye hath seen nor thought con- ceived. He described his mission to bo such as required no longer than the brief period of time which he appeared to have to sojourn a mortal on earth, com- pletely to accomplish. IJiit above all, lie exhorted the chief to put his trust in the promises of the Great Spirit, of the natui'e of which ho would hereai'ter more fully instruct him. The white exile was not deficient in his knowledge of human character in general, nor likfly t J err in his estimati> of that of the Indian; and he deemed it necessary to explain at once the object of tlie like- ness in which he came. Ilia humanity, lie said, and he spoke in the sincerity of his belief, was given him by the Great Spirit, as a means, which the Creator of the sun and the moon and the mountains and the valleys had chosen of conununicating his will to his people, and was the higliest ])roof of his ten«ier regard for the human species, while it involved a necessary trial of their faith in his promises. But his colour, which he knew to be hateful in the »'yes of red men, was intended, he added, to efface all prejudices that existed with the red people against the iuxti(m of that complexion; stseing, that one of the means by which the Great Spirit proposed to reestablish the ancient glory of their race, was through an intercourse with those very white men, whom they had 80 much ablu)rred. Among that people, lie said, he had sojourned, designedly, to acquire such human knowledge as might best assist him in promoting an inter- course between the nations, at present at a great distance apart, and very different, not only in colour, but in their degrees of knowledge, and in the proportion and the character of the happiness they enjoyed. "In a word," said he, "much has been done imseen, but much more will be done before the eyes of all men, appertaining to the gren.t work assigned to the repre- sentative >f the Good Spirit. The red tribe shall recover their ancient territory; they nuistbe again a free and happy people." The habitants of the sacred grove, although they were so near the habita- tions of the largest of the parties into which the red Indian tribe was divided, were not U'ss secluded, and secure from interruption, while the interdiction of the chief, who was now with them, forbade the violation of the sanctity of the i)lace, than while they dwelt between the clouds and the spangled sky. T!ius they passed the first evening in such introductory discourse, without any speciul reference to the means of accom- plishing those objects which were upper- most in the mind of the white exile, and about which he had yet done little more than raise the curiosity t)f those whom he had impressed with the conviction of ills spiritual mi.'>sl(in. Tiie discourse! of the Lord of the Mountain, was, however, long; and the night was far advanced, when they stretched themselves upon the spruce boughs, which had been strewed upon the ground, after the manner of red men, and all fell into a profouiul and tranquil sleep. CHAPTER XXV. " \V« are cuinviilcd l^piiri a ploasltiK iri'aly ; and linve licurts liu'Unabli' to honor and ndviiiico The Ihumt' of oiir uiiseinbly." C0KI0L.VIIU9. AiiToMAH was the first of the party in tlu' grove, that awoke upon the morning after his reunion with his mountain com- panions. As he opened his eyes, the eai'liest glimmerings of light were visible through the aperture In the roof of their wigwam. He arose tipon his feet, and stood for some time wrapt in the reflec- tions that were natural to the position In wiiicli he was placed, and the controry feelings or passions that possessed him. At length the day fully broke; but no eye but that of Ahtonuih had yet un- closed to the light. The young warrior looked upon Adallo, as she lay by her THE KED INDIANS OF NETBOUXOLAND. father nnd Shululiic, still slooping'. Slio was dressed in her full white robe; which contrasted with the dark bed of si)ruce boughs upon which she was stretched. And us the youth continued to j^aze upon the fair object of his interest, unch^r tho changed relation which she now bore to him, new feelings seemed to possess him; and it appeared, as if nothing had been wanting, but her dependence upon his protection for her safety, to subdue what- ever obstacle there might exist to the full passion of his soul. 10 'riic youth still remained with his eyes fixed upon thcniaideu. The complacent image of that confidtMice which had most touched him, was impressed upon her countenance in sleep, with tho likeness of those feminine virtues, withf the angel of their \p:'xhe. At the head of these, was the white-liaii^ed ^eor, who had before op- posed the «ii?^ig|(s of the malignant ad- vocate of|th«Jliril Spirit. And all, who sideJi.with this their more aged and milder gui4<^i(ii?ere .^ainguuie in their expectations o^fiQine jw-e^itiftiid, sudden event in their faypur. )|,ButtiM>fqUowers of the gloomy Sfierii who twpr*!) many, impressed by his SJPW^QiW elojiuenco, and influenced by his fiIfan»pJo,flnde^votu'ed to distort every ma- pMiastfttioijitliftt they had witnessed, and P«KV9r,t(>yefy Incident that had happened, to d)i>me)|Corri)|^t and evil end. About nopnj,,on the day succeeding that on whit^iithe white man had signified his.co^tenjt^tihJs interview v/ith Ottawah, ^n4» h|^ pteiUion that they should all leftM* tne. gw>vQ,onitlxe following day, the Jln^iaus >v^p ,assemt)Iod upon the plain thtitf wa^, ^ fropt vf the place of their chfef'j5;iiratreat ,f»vith ajl their, women, wlivm they ha(i (ib)t)$rmlned never again to qttit, until their iifef^ces were co^npleted, whep, siuldenttr', y)^ mysterious sojourners of the sacrcu,,w(H>d« were seen issuing from ;hdge had produced, was n(jW, if ever, himself deceived, in the estimate of the powers he possessed for theaccom- t)lishment of the gi-eat work for which he )elieved himself reserved, and in the true relations of the effects which he witnessed with the natural causes which produced them. lie had witnessed the surprising 76 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIflP OF success of the most strane;e undertakings, the designs for which had originated, and the execution of which had been directed, bv himself; and, he had not inattentively observed, or under-estimated the ascen- dancy which he had attained, over the mind of the intelligent Ahtomah, and the rapid, and entire influence he had gained with the chief of the tribe ; and he had no reason to think, that even the seers themselves, whose investigations, and whose opposition he had most dreaded, entertained any suspicions that might be dangerous to the ultimate success of his designs. Whatever, indeed, might origi- nally have been, or was now, his own opinion concerning the nature of his power, his thoughts were still studiously concealed; and he determined steadily to pursue the same course which he had hitherto so successfully followed, for the promotion of his grand objects. The white man, had, indeed, in reality, attained a degree of practical knowledge, which was not without the apparent evi- dences of inspiration. The acquaintance, which it has been stated he had obtained with natural phenomena, by the observa- tion of cause and effect, hadputhim in pos- session of a knowledge of things hidden from the eyes of others, carrying, in its ap- plication to what was around him, all the force of proof, and producing the constant effects of conviction. It was, indeed, like all knowledge, whether proceeding from experience, and the accumulated records of nistory, or the combined researches of mankind, or from the deductions of science through the efforts of genius, and the employment of the faculty of reason — a natural revelation; and so far above that which has been imparted to those beyond the circles of civilisation, that it seemed to partake of all the properties and the ad- vantages pf immediate intercourse with the Deity. It was, at least, knowledge so important to the white man's designs, and so effective, while its sources were con- cealed, that it would have been ns impolitic to have rejected the advantages it afforded, as it would be fallacious to pretend, that the nature of man, in a state of civilisa- tion, is not above that in which he is found in the ruder and earlier stages or periods of his social and moral history. Thus, under the influence of feelings, which arose from a sense at least of in- spiration by natural means, the white man stepped forward, and thus addressed himself to the Red Indians now assembled. " Men of a race," said he, " reserved to be again as numerous as your fathers, listen to the messenger of the Great Spirit. Obey his commands, and the red tribe shall be more numerous in time to come than the pebbles that border the sea, or the leaves of the forest trees. The ways of the Good Spirit are not the ways of his people. I stand not before you to unfold his secret mysteries, but now first to ex- hort you to the practice of one virtue, the most necessary above all on your part. There is one thing more essential than every other, as a means of founding and establishing your future glory. It is submission in confidence — united submis- sion, to the chief in authority over you — obedience to him, with whom I, as a mortal, and as one of you, now dwell. " When the wisdom of Ottawah fails him," he continued, " I will instruct his ready mind, iintil the great redemption of the red tribe is accomplished. Seldom ye may see me, or my assistant spirit in this great work ; but, ye will learn the road to true glory, and the means of accom- plishing your restoration, from the mouth of your revered chief, and of that of his son, the approved human agents of the benevolent purposes of your guardian spirit, and or the soul of the universe." At the close of this speech, there was again breathless silence. Not an Indian whispered. At length the Lord of the Mountain took the red chief by the hand, and Adalie took Ahtomah and Shahdac; and, as the wondering eyes of the war- riors followed them, they returned to their temporary dwelling in the grove. Little was said by the warriors, and nothing that indicated their doubts con- cerning what they had experienced, with one exception alone, after the chief and his mysterious companions had withdrawn ; Hnd they soon departed to their mats, all but unanimous in one opinion, at least — that the destinies of the red tribe were dependent upon a will above their com- Erehension, and subject to a power, which uman force could not control. And under these impressions they seemed de- termined to place full reliance upon the benevolence of the Great Spirit, and upon the faithful execution of his promises by his especial agent, the patron Spirit of their tribe. The single exception to this seeminj imanimity, among the taciturn warriort., was a few insidious remarks from the evil seer whose machinations we have so often seen, indicative of the reserve of his judgment concerning the transactions of the day. And these were so artfully conceived, as to admit of any interpreta- tion that might hereafter serve to assist his secret designs, or screen his impious THE RliD r.V3I\.\'-? 0PlN3WP0UiVDLA.yD. 77 undertakings. He, doubtless, deemed it politic to await a more favorable oppor- tunity for introducing anything that might have occurred to his mind, concemmg the worship of his patron Spirit, the evU genius of the tribe. And although he might have thought it net^essary to appear to some, to assent to the prevailing opi- nion, he was anxious to have an appeal against the charge of inconsistency, when he should again attempt to prove the genuine character, and show the reasons of his faith in the dreaded demon, n hose power, rather than whose will, had lately become a subject of more frequent dis- pute than formerly, among the orators and seers of the tribe. CHAPTER XXVL " O ! wonder 1 How many goodly creatures are there here t How beautiful mankind is ! O, brave new world, That has such people in it." Tempest. It was now that season of thejyear, at which it became necessary for the war- riors to follow the chase, by which they ob- tained a supply of deer's nesh, and of seal oil, and such other articles winter food, and for domestic use, as they were accus- tomed to provide before the migration of the deer, and the exclusion of the seals from the coast by the making of the ice. The chief had before communicated his necessities to the Lord of the Mountain, who was desirous of seeing the warriors engaged in such sports, as he thought well adapted to divert their attention from any too nice examination of his assumed attributes; at the same time that it would afford him a better opportunity of becom- ing more familiarly acquainted with the character of the chief and his people, and thereby, perhaps, enable him to mature his plans, for opening the friendly inter- course, which he designed first establish- ing between the savage tribes. The immediate, and first step, which he contemplated taking, in the prosecution of his grand objects, was to send an embas'^y to the Micmacs, with such powers, and under such circumstances, as. after full deliberation, should appear most advisa- ble. But this, he knew, it was impossible to effect, with any chance of success, without the consent of the greater num- ber of the warriors. And the wounds thev had last received were yet too new to be forgotten, and their passions too strong to be disregarded. For these reasons, it was dangerous to proceed too confidently or too precipitately, with so much as the proposal of a measure, the clearest arguments for which, would have to contend with, and must vanquish, the strongest prejudices of the tribe, before they might secure its adoption. Every red man thirsted for revenge; and the white man had no reason to believe, that, whatever might be the faith of the Indians in the genuineness of his mission, he had gained entire influence over the minds of any of the warriors, except those that were in the wigwam with him; and he knew the limits of an Indian chief's authority too well, to trust to the support of Ottawah, as ade- quate at all times to sway the opinions of the principal orators and warriors of < he tribe. He doubted, indeed, whether the chief might have suificient influence, to induce them temperately to deliberate upon a matter that would certainly excite much difference of opinion, and probably inflame the most deadly passions of the red people, without engaging any patriotic warrior to make the dangerous experi- ment, hazardous alike, on account of the hostility of his countrymen, and the bad faith and treachery ot the Micmacs. After the autumnal expedition had been decided upon, neither tne chief nor Ahtomah remained always in the grove, They passed to and fro, and exercised all their ingenuity, in endeavouring to impress upon the minds of the warriors, the same sense of the mysterious stran- ger's supernatural powers, that they themselves possessed. And to accomplish this, becpnie daily the more urgent, as many hr^' i to look for some such mi- raculous .iiterfrrence as should suddenly overthrow their enemies, and at once exterminate the Micmac race; and few seemed capable of admitting the same impressions, at least by the same means, as those which the white man had made upon the chief and his son. The chief now issued his commands, which, in all matters of established prac- tice, were considerec* imperative; and a day was appointed for the departure of the party ; and the scene of their intended exploits, was at the same time determined upon. The change that might be supposed to have taken place, in the relations of the two tribes, or in the feelings which they entertained for each other, since the separation of the intenm'(«, timt rhev would ijdt li-nvf tlu-ir wiv«-i in \\u> capitiil. All tlif inhiibiitintM, ilnii fore, of < h'lti«\(' |)ri'jii!i-c(l III tltipnrl ; tiinl njmii thi' iiMirntii>» ii|>|Miinti(l, ihev <'<>ninn«r«M! llu'ir jli' ••oitiiti')' lit" the {{iviit iiiirthfiii tuiiiiiunHil roploii. Thi> rivor, iiptm which their prcicni cnpittil Tilhijfc stdixl, iimk iti rise ut sninc iliMtancc in the inlerior otihe miiittry, in the (lir«Mii(tn in whii-Ii ihcv hiul deiei-- inined in hiiiif. ft wiH ifiein-fnre c<>n- vmielU (<> il«eel\ll the sU'eiiiil, tliiil ihey n)iv:hl iliuiiniHh the length i>t' their ji>unn<\ Ity lutitl. Ami ihis wii-< the inure iinnnriuni. In nlfte nl' <>;iiihI --uccei-*, Ity iitl\>rrtin)j: ihein, mIiiuiIiI their i nnoii rtMuain tniiliscnvenul liy rinv |mrl\ ut the t»neiny, a fucilitv f.^r cnnxevini!; tln-ir Hj)ort III their hi ime.s, nn their reinrn. We nIihII nut altenipl In ile-icrihe the tlrst |M>ri(iniil inieivonric i)ei^\een Ailalie, nml the v%. -n ni" ihe red irihe, nnr tlie wliito iniiitlen'M i'.ilrodiictiiiii to the red chiefs luirticuhir dweilin^. The iiri>|>»«r ludtitanlM nt'OfluwuhN wifjwani, ciin?.(.'4|ed ot'llieehiel"'!* vtmnK '*1'""''"N *^''l' " Mioinac fthive ntienduni >d' her own «ex, luu Miennn- male nhne^, attendiinl n|Hin the chief, and an awkward and I'onli.sh KMkiinuh, who ^lerlurined ilie nmil irk- some nieniidotHi oh of th«>kiii)>ly estnl>lii»h- nient, He^iih'it IIm'w, with tlnu'hief, at jtn-sent. dwelt hii son and his two white jfiiesthi iind, also, Shahdae, mi wfll dis^rnised, or HO changed li\' time, and ihe iiillin>nce of the iH-acefnlliahitM, and the insirnetiont iifthe white man, with whom he had so loll),' dwell, that his liiiMorv remained uidtnown, sa>e to Ahtoniah, and his while coinnanions. Whin tlu'V endiarked for the scene of their ''iHvrl, tile canoe of (>ttawah led the way. The a^fed chief lat across athwart ;ii the centre, with the white man liy liii side; and immediately lad'ore hnn, in the hotiom of tlieeuiioe, sat thechiet"s spouse, niid the identic Adalie. Shahdae, and the K.skiinoh, plaeeil them»elM's hehind Ihe «'hief; and Ahtomah sat in the siern, and dleered, while the eanoe was puddled hv sixteen of the sionier warrioi-x of the trihe. The canoes that were entitled liy iiu- loiu to keep nearest iin» eliiel', were those of the more a^^ed wnrHnrt, and the neers. After I lii'ie, the canoes with the rest of th«< warriors fnllowi'd indiscriminately . They proowdod clieerfnlly np the stream, Mmietimos landinsr, to avoid n rapid or full, when iliey tarried their caniM's on ll lir .■tllonl^ler^ thri'n;;li the thiekeiN tdves hv reHt. At len^^th, hefore the snn hail slink ho* neafh th« lops uf the wesicrn hills, loitin this the tlisi ilay of their journey, tliey hati reat'hed the heatl of die iiittrmosl creek of the clear ^lr^'anl the\ hail asremlrd. Tliiir caiioe-i weit- now tunitsl iipiiile ilown, ami i-awfnllv co\eretl with sprnee honj^lis, and hnslies, fti defend ifiein from ilic rays of tht> nooii-tlay sun, tliirin;^ the time the w arriors shotilil re- main occnpiid in the xlcinity ol'the strait, tiOMtnli which lhe\ laws nroceetled hv II ' * CMAPrKU XXVll. " I I .lintel «|uk i'iliai)(li of lliU foiili>iil, ll ilK) 1 nil' lii'rt-; It 11 toil iiiarli tif jiiy." (11141.1.111. I r w UN the t'ii>.toin of all the Indians upon llicir liiintiii^ piir(ie>, when tlicy were en- campetl, to seinl out om- or two ««X|M>ri warriors, at iiinlil, to eiitteavonr, hy a tiexiemiis maiiieiiiris to full upon stime ■,iariy of their enemies, to ohtaiii, if not some .Miilps, at least, sume trophy of their I jii'owi'ss i.r cnniini^, from llie liosiilt« j camp, (hi this acconnl, the samt> vigi- I lunee also was alwuv'' ohservett on all sides, when ihey were upon these exciir- HioiiH, which they were accustometl to pruetise in their \illav';t's al home. The tirst encampment of oiir party of lied Inilian warriors, ami their in>Hleriiiiis jjfiicsts, wa?i liy their ciuioes at tlic creek, where the shallow iieis of the stream had nrresietl their fintlier pro>!;ress hy water. Here, they appointetl their scnnls, and Met the watch, with the caiilion ami re^n- Inrily with which they werti woiil to make iheir prevenrne ilisiiosiiions at ttrtawee. hut they passetl the ni^ht wiilionl any alarm. (hi llie next tlay, after a fali^niii^; Jiiiriiey, they arri\etl upon the hleak shores of the ureal strait, alremly nieii- lioiieil as tlieliesi Imniinp; j^ronml for ihe supply of iheir ai|iiiiiinal wants. Here, thcv cncnmped in an ex|ensi\i< Millev, called (iata Kui, or llie valley of shrills; where llie\ contiinieil iii>i;htly to take the same preeaiiiionary steiwugninst surprise, or a^^aiii"! the arts ol any niii* ranilin^ Micinac. The \alt> of sliruhs isa* snri'oiindetl on all sides, hv cr iKgy and rocky luoiintaiu". or steep iiml ImrriMi IiIUn, tu-ittss wliieh THI'. HKII INDUNH OV NICWWUNDI AND. lUt'i'i' «trc hi'Nciul unn'ow iiikI iit(i'irul<- |>ll>M'n, «\ liit'll, wllt'll ml cllciiH' ^^ 'tn klluNM) 111' Nli|i|><>.<', tlx' «Mtlt■^.^ III' llu* ^'l'«'U( hll'llil Ih-uI ii^'uiii>i u Imrrirr ut' riulc inisi>liH|>t'ii I'lK'ki, mill lii^li mill I iiK^M'il clitVn, w liii'ii iilVni'ili'il ^lii'lii'i- I'm' iiiiiiiiiii'i'iiWIf M'lt-tow I. And iliti wliitU- (\iili i'iiri'<"<|iiiiiiliii^ ruiti'iii-K!«, \\u< iiuli'itti-il Willi iiilt'it lit' \ tU'iiMl.tllilUt'lirililli, »S Inch WiTf lVri|\li-lll«'il liv I III* Kfu-i'iiu Hint llio M'ltl, ill );n'Ul iiuiiiImts, mill liiiil liiTii, fill' iiiiiny ycur-s ilii> Di'i'iii* III' ilir miiiiiiiii liiiiitiiiK III' lilt- I'liii'f III' flic licil liiilimis mill liis cliiiM'ii \\ui*riiir». Wliilc cnrmiipril ill ilii> m«Ii- i>t' ilinili!;, ihiy laihli'd (lie ili'cr iiiul iln- litur u)>iiii llu- Miin'iMiiiiliii<.; lull., iniiil ili<- ki-hmiii wUvu ilic liter lii'^iiii III llU^nl!l■ to till' >'>iillt; urit'i' \\liii'li, llii'^ iiiir.iii'd ilic m'u i-iiw N mill lllr Ki iiU, iiiilil ilii .It' iil.Mi diMili- |ii'iiritd. It\ till- liini' tlii'V liiid ii.Miiilly iiliiiiiiii'd mi iiliiiiidmii'i'. III' NiiOii ii'iii t'oi' ilii'ir wiiiii'i' Mipply <>l' I'lmd mid I'lutliin^', i>li>'ii tlu'N lii'i>l(i< ii|) tlnir ('iii'mii|iiii(-iit to ii'iiini III ilii'ir wiiiiiT lioiiiiv., 'I'lir hiiiiiitiittmid how MO iiimi\ yoiin^ mid dt'lii'iiti' woiiD'ii, •iin'iiicd lU'iilH'i' to t'lyoy I' wurriofH, iioi* to i«x- till •iiHih •I' th i-iii' iiiiy ti'iiilfi' iiili ri"r<'|mriii^r tlii' iliit ol' the wiirriors, or iit iimkiDK iirtirh'^ ol' di't4. Hliodii'hi, liow'i>vi>r, thf yoiiiip; wiff ol' tlitttwiili, WHN ih<> diiii^t.tt'i* ol' oiu> (if ihi> I'lilt'fi* u|ion the iioi'ihi'i'ii coniit, ui'.d wmm lk('('IIMtol|ll'li to rtH'l'iX' ItH llllicll l'("i|ll'('l, lt>t it III liny liaii' piiid hy tlti> nn-ii to tlnir Ndiincii, uiiioii)( u vit'. ll^o|)li>. h witH foriiinulo I'm' Aitulii', ihitl her red iiuKicinti' of lu'i' own hi'\, wiiM, liy lull lire, iniolligiint, and of n Uinii dixpoiiiiion. And, AN nIik wn>i in tli*< Ihiwir of hi the Inn* t(iht|;(< of Shcdiolii, iil Iciiol ii-) wrll iii lici' liciHK r |ol|^||l■, |||(.> cxiH'iifiiii'd no diiti ciilty in ('Mii)iin(tlv Ailiilic, on h« t' niilo, wii'< liii|>|)y lou'ijui'i' nil cliiiins III iiii)i(m' nnd ciiiiul fodliii^ with hi'l'df. She ('uii\fi';ii d fliily , tlpon ln'i'i'\|ii-i'iciirc ill till- muiiiiliiiii. She H|Mik«< with iiiiich i'niliii.'>ii«niii of ihc eoni'ii);(i of Ahloiiiiih, and of ihn imiouiahinK d>'.\(i'i°>iy he hud (li.1|llu^(>d in lln* iiiic of lln> Im>w, which -.he Inid hiisilf wilitc-.icd, and of itll ihiil mIic hud li'uriiiid from her futhi'i' of hit hKiII uml hlll'|>un^ill!{ » NcrAi'd with her ri-d ('oin|iuiiioii, mude no xpcciMl iilliixioii to ih(< \i'nii^ wiu'iioi'n rcx'iii' (if hir f.u.nr i'«oi;i tin- power iif ihc Inollnler of the iliep, tShe illd ll''! With to colifoiilld lier iVleilit'x o|H lliil^ llllder- HimidiiiK, wiiJi the MihlU'licM coiiiuclcd with the Lord of the Moiintiiin'H iiiiiacii- ImiH powiT'', t'oiici'rninx which indeed ;.lie Will not itccil'loliieil to einp|i>\ her ow II reilHoii. Kill, if thill ineulonilile I'M'llt \>u, u mutter whii.'h Ad.ilie .titti eoiild not |m r- fecll_\ coiniirehend, it collt'enied il killijei t upon whicli nhe hud no dn.mre to hu full\ innlruclcd; mid ^he did nut pui'itut' her conjectnre'i lie\ olid the .tllKifeNlionM w hieh the ijiiick l'mie\ liri>t iiutiiiullv conci'ix'*. She iu'efet'ri'il nniiiile I'mih; and wiit eon lent lit lilt linie.t to oIm'\ , w iihoiit w itl lo I mil,' leiir iir);iiineiilM, w'liicli would rei|iiire ii'kxoine hIuiIn liclore lhe\ iiuglit cull \ilU'e her I't'llHoU, Il Wtta enollHh ihut Nhi> wnH u duiiKhtcr. She knew the dtit) ofu child to iln iwreiili Mild nhc ne\er hi'nititted to i^ollniiler of her fHlhei'.H he- ltl'llt'< », and ni<\«'r eiti«>rtuined u iIioiikIi that in^olxil iin,v i|uei«iiur\ I ler new Colli llliol I, or III i^ht I end III loi' wiii'd her I'lithi r'n di'si^itii. t'he (h'lii'ulc ( iniipuiiiiiii of Adulie, for itoi, in theconititHceiidiii^ iMunnermid the \oliintui-y hiiinililv of thiMlniiMlilui nf the 80 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OP mysterious Lord of the Mountain, and in the free intercourse with licr which she enjoyed, that reverence, amounting to awe, which slio had at first conceived, when she hsted to the white maiden's kind discourse, and to her entertaining relations of the transactions in the sacred mountain. In fact, so adapted to each other were the young wife and the white maiden, that they seemed formed by niiture for the interchange of afl'ection, and for reciprocal obligations; and, every day, they grew more familiar, and more fondly attached. Thus, while the white man and the chief were occupied with their graver sub- t'ei'ts of discourse, and the warriors in luntiug, the two sisters, as they were ulready styled by the Indian chief and the father of Adalie, passed their time in entertaining each other, with amusing narratives of events within their ex- perience and their memory in the time past, and in framing conjectures con- cerning the future, and in exercising the fancy in the manner which best suited their lively imaginations or Hattered their more cherished hopes. But notwithstanding the familiarity and great intimacy whicli subsisted be- tween Adalio and the wife of the chief, every day'* experience, and every dis- course, since the superstitious awe with which the wife of ()tta^^ah had regarded lii'r instructress had departed, tended rather to increase than to diminish the solid inlluenee of the white uuiiden. The miiuners, and the style of the conversa- tiiiu t>f Adalie, were as superinr to any- thing that might excite envy in her own sex, as her beauty, and th? gracefulness of her form, were, in the eyes of the other sex, above the personal charms of the most fasciiuitiiig of the red w(mu'n with whom she conversed. She partook of all xiw amusements in which the Indian women were accusttuned to engage, eilh<>r in the absence, or the preseiu-e of (he warriors, without any danger of the dimi- nution, but rather with increase, of that respect from the warriors and the women of all ages, which her mystic character nad tanctioncd, and to which the simpli- city of lier nature had given full elleet. If the red women played at their more childish games, during theabseiu'cof the warriors, Adalie entered with e(;iial en- thusiasni into all their sports; and when they danced, as was their eustoui, fur the annisement of the hunters, after tiicir re- turn from the day's chase, by her light ami untaught step, and the ease with wliieh she nutved, siie excited pleasure and wonder, mingled with admiration, that riveted every eye. Everything, in short, in which she engaged seemed to strengthen rather than les.sen the mys- tery so desirable to preserve with the In- dians in general, and tended to confirm their faith in the divine nature of the mission of which they were the objects, and of the sacred character of their guests. But often, during the absence of all the warriors, except those who remained to guard the camp against surprise from any prowling party of the Micmacs or Eskimohs, the whole of the women, at- ♦r^cted by the superior nature and kind- ness of the white maiden, gathered about her, tt» listen to the tender speech by which she taught some of her father's precepts; and they vied with each other in expressions of the most affectionate regard, and in hearty acknowledgments of the debt of gratitude which they were contracting with the mysterious strangers. The geiu-ral unaninuty, and the seou- rity from external aggression, whicii the children of Ottawah enjoyed in their present encampment, were productive of a state of tranciuillity, that seemed favour- able to the views of the whitts man, in artording him the time and opportunity whi(;h were necessary for perfecting his work, both in making the jiroper impres- sion upon the Indians in regard t<> the opinion he was desirous they should en- tertain of white nuMi, and for rijK'uing the plans for his first contemplated step towards opeiiing a communication with tlie Micunies. It was most desirable to ascertain what relations, if any, existed betwe time, existed, the wlrte nuin only supposed, from the cir- cumstance of the Micuuu's being known to possess lire-arms. But whether there hail been any comnmrce of a friendly nature, or whether there still existiHl any means of exchange, seemed doubtful THE BED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 31 from tlu' savap's possessing, bs it was well known, but few of tliosi' weapons. For having once known their Hiiperiority over the nnti\ e bow, the i.pear, and the tcmaluiwk, it was not likely, that at a time when tiiey seemed ImmH upon llie extirpation of their enemies, tliey would want any ninnher of those arms, which, if any friendly Kuropeans .Uill visitei ,"Uon what seemed the ijreat oliieet <•!' their wars; yet. al- ihouKh ^t^lnnlated by ) e|H'ated siMJoess to a bolder prosoeiition of their extenni- natinf^ warfare, thev u«d nev.-r mode any open attack npou tlio warriori of the red tribe, nor even met them npon the open plain, until Ih • nij^bl on whub the «hite nmn's own timely interference, had at least for a linu«, chocked the course of (heir enormitiey. From these circumstances, doidtl^ nunht, indicd, be entertained, whether 11 Mh 8: OTTAWAH, THE LAST aKiEP OP any friendly intercourse Jiud ever existed between any vhite nion and the Mio- ■• race. Thesamejealousy whichhadexci'' - l 'he Red Indians to attack the fishermen | who vis'tcd the northern coast, »" i:ht have influenced the Micmacs fn the south, and led to more successful rfesultJ:. Oi^'^ fortunate assault upon a settlement or body of fishermen, might hftVe put them in possession of a limited tmltiber of arms, and sufficient ammatiition, for all the uses they had hither^ fna(f« of this ad- vantage which th6y possesserf oter their dejected enemieij and, the nsft of their new and formidablei weapon, Ih^ imght very well have learned in theif etivnmter with the whites, or from some IiiA«H pri- soner, who might have escaped aftf-r some detention in the camp of the Eu- ropeans. The fire-arms indeed employed by the Micmacs, might possibly be the very wea- pons that belonged to the white man and hi.s companions in voluniary exile, who fell by the tomahawk of the Indians; for although, no (forirbt existed, that the mer- ciless enemies ol'the white mei>, wlio com- mitted the atrocities from the scene of which the '"ather and child alone escaped, were men of the tribe with whom tney now sojournecl; yet!, up to this day, there had been no means of ascertaining, of forming any grounds (at conjecture con- cerning the ia8U(! of that ruthless mar - sacre, or the cause why the warriors had not the arms of the white men, without violating the delicacy which the guest of the red chief had scrupulously maintained with his generous host. Shahdac wrs a prisoner in tlie cams of the Micma's, or a tone wanderer in the desolate wastes of lh«' Island, and Ahtomah was a child, whiMi that niemoral.lo calamity befell the T.' iiropeaus; district where the Dnipanions fell, had fiih'^r of Adi' 1' now long since ..i.iO to the enemies ol the red trib«', who had dt.nbtless pos- sessed themselves of all the effects of their enemies. But tiie white num continucMl to take advantage of the season of trunquillity wliich the Indians enjoyed, to occupy his mind in planning new si hemes for the pro- Hjotion of his grand til)ject«, an*! in the indulgei\ce of the pleasing reflections which his hopes engendc'red. Hut if the same perfbct repose of mind was not en- joyed by all of the party so lately united with the tribe, the same confldcDce was entertained by the rest, in the happy re- sult of the designs, for the promotion of which their thoughts equally tended. The white maldnn in the midst of her occupt»ti"i;j, while in.itructii:;r th** red ■nor^wn, ^nd acquiring every su ! i^cies oi ifl. ii-iuMon as her ff**!-! 'Lought 'Mos* fa- ou''o(> e U> his designs, had her m rul . fien en^' iged upon other subjects fh.in iuCic Whit n seemed to engross all r.er f>'yor;tioni und whenever Ahtomah entered the wigwam of the chief, the arts most natural to the passion she ex- Eerietrced, were scarce able to conceal et emotions from the observation of her less thoughtful companion and friend. The object I) ipermost in the mind of the youthful Ahtomah, since hifi return to his tribe was the Indian maiden to whose memr y we have .seen him recur in the presence of Adalie, and the recollection of whom, had embittered the tim* of his sojourn in the mountain. When the warriors had retun'od to Orfawee, after the melancholy catas- trophe -vhich has been relpted in a previous chapter, th« bodies of some of the elder women, ana of sncfr of the old men as had been left behind, and of the children, were'fonnu scattered about the village, scaTped d.nd horribly mahttec* and disf'^pn'ed, and the cinders only, of some that had been burned. But tnere were no tra> r>fi, by which the red ihetl might diso'o^. how mAny of their warriors or their '^•'> men were reserved, or even the knoT <'dge of any (me in particular that mig.tt have been carried away ; and from ' lie care that had been taken to make it im- possible to conjecture the proportion that liad been destroyed l)y the flames, it was evident that the Micmacs were desirous < r.'. Doaling the number, hi< well as the per .oi\K, of their enemies that they had carriiHi captive into their own territory. The young red warrior mused long and anxiously upon the possibility of rocQvering his loss. He sometimes en- terta.'ned iliou;;lits of heading a party of bin asuociates and entering the country of thtt Micmacs, with a view of ascertain- ing, whether the cherished object which engrosstnl all his thoughts still lived, and ii' the hone of yet ri'st'uing her from the hands of his hated enemies. But he could not attempt such an expedition, without acting contrarv to the wishes of the chief, and in ojien opposition to tiie will of his friend and sa.ri<->oies I ^■1 tuought I pis, had her ther subjects > engross all er Ahtomah ihief, the arts ion she ex- e to conceal vation of her nd friend, the mind of ;e his returr. in maiden to !n him recur lie, and the mbittered the lountain. [ rotun^cd lo icholy catas- relnted in a s of some of ib of the old rf, and of the red about the y maiilfteol and only, of some ( it there wi-ro d men might ir warriors or L or even the articular that ^ay J and from to make it im- roportion that flames, it was were desirous us, well as tlu> that they had wn territory, r mused long possibility of iometimes en- inp a party of r ihe country V of ascertain- ohject which still lived, and ; her from the ies. But he in expedition, the wishes of osition to tlie icrt'd teacher, iciiple, it w!is rent, as it was he should, by i:iiiUuin. part from the nsoned with r bo torturwl, e thought vi- THR RED INDIANS OF N'Efl'FOlJNDLAMi. 83 brated to the :nn»nno8t chamber of his soul — "the bride of a detested Micm-ic." And, had he not beeu ".c";'uev; aiiJ c^ui; ; lied b 7 the penile Adalie, he would probably hut<^ ",'urgotten the impressions that lad been made unon his n.nd by the iliscourses and the f jepts oi the Lord of the Mountain, and returned to the imrestrained indulgence of the native ])assions of a savage, aiul the exercise of the sudden suggestions of his first natural impulse, and, perhaps, satisfied his ap- petite for blood, by tlie slaughter of some of his own friends. But the bitterest reflections continued to perturb the youth's mind, until his spirit almost sunk beneath the weight of his generous sorrows. "Were she certainly dead," he would say within himself, " I might be no longer unhappy ; but " and again the horrible imagw recurred to his mind, " but no," ha would add, " she could not embrace the enemy of her race. She is descended from our ancient chiefs; and she would have borne her torfnre and death, before she would have yielded to the embraces of a Micmac. Tt is not — it cannot be. She lives, and no second love has corrupted her heart -no second passion effacea the first affections of her virgin soul — or, she is dead, and no ab- horred Micmac has pressed her maiden and unstained lip. No shame shall wipe away the memory of her love. No ill spirit, no evil thought, couple dishonor with her name." CHAPTER XXVIII. " Our (coutt have found the adventure very onijr." H«.N»Y VI. Great vigilance, it has been observed, was tluuight necessary in the Red Indian camp, to prevent or repel any predatory attack «>f^the Micmacs; and, not many days after the warriors hnd established themselves in the vale of shrubs, some of the hunters, who had been far along the coast, reported that they had crossed the trail of a Micmac huiitmg party. And, subsequently, the track of a very small jinrty of their marauding enemies was discover' d in the immediate vicinity of the encampment. But all the marks Oiey found, were apparently made several dava before they were perceived; and this led the red party to coiyecture, that some Micmac warriors hud reconnoitired their potiitlon, with a view of obtaining some scalp*, or for plunder; but, that, finding the passes iu the mouutiiins were on •very side around the vale, snfsicitntly (."•carded io pre'' ntsuvpris , .' ' 'mUt .opt i;.e retreat ut ica^t, n p ie(i-"r;.f Pa: ^y a*V'M v!u ilarm, and me« *;ng .) ffirf>c- cafeioii of attempting any enterj-rif-.c, Jp-iy bad abandoned the attempt, and v TiiMd to their own camp. These lirijc ihsit d ■,- coveries, however, caused tL j : i pnrt^ to redouble their vigilance; n-l h i't^j not long before they reiip( rl , ,8 Ke;^' iit of the prudent dispositions w 'K Juey made. Not many days after these signs of the Miciuacs being in the vicinity of their encampment had been observed, two of the watch, in the dead of the night, as they lay concealed among the dark spruces of the rough and craggy ground of (me of the passes of the mountains, by their acute sense of hearing, detected the evidence of an enemy's approach. On such occasions as this, an endeavour was always made by the party which lay in wait, to take some at least of the enemy, if possible, alive, in orde- to torture and sacrifice them, with the ^.uelties, accom- panied by the savage rejoicings, which are common with all the more barbarous of the native Americans, after any simi- lar triumph over their enemies. And a skilful stratagem for this purpose was now successfully practised. As soon as the red men were certain of ii stranger's step, one, of the two only, of which the party consisted, laid him- self down with his eur tu tn • gi-'/und within the trench of the .ms^ iind the other concealed himself nehind some bushes that grew upon the rooky sides of the narrow v..;. whce .^ley had prepared a massive l^og - rcul< «*i anti- cipation of haviii,' tv iCi'i.v .• r strong party of their ener , whom f'iiey trusted Its tall might, u iist, discomfit and separt'.tr if it did ii-'' destr -y a part "f their luiiiiber. Little time elaj>se(!, aft; ■ I' o discovery I if the presence of the eu",;! ';, before the vvarrior, that was i-ouchcd i w th«' valley, f;ave the dread sitynal, at which, the rock rolled, with frightful crash, down the steep and rugged ciifl's, ti'.i it filled up the treiich, and obstructed Mh' pui^sage. But tiuch wore the wary p'-ccuutions ofthoin- Mders, that, ulthougii tliev were nume rous, all escaped, savr n single warrior, whose retreat being thi.s cut off, was, in spite of as firm a resistiinre its his igno- rance of the characier of the ground around liim, and the doublti strength oj- posed to him, permitted, overcome and secured unhurt, and carried in triuinjih to the r«d camp. I i -c*- 84- OTTAWAH, THE l.KBT CHIEF OP On oi'iiinary txicasions, the Micmac would have been sacrificed before the sun again set; so eager were the warriors at all times, to glut their savage appetite for blood, and gratify their cruel revenge. But it was, now, the command of Ottawuh, that the prisoner should be reserved, until their return to their more permanent abode. In the mean time, it was ordered that he should be well bound, and further arrangements were made, to discover, whether there existed any grounds to ex- pect another such attempt, or any more formidable attack. But a second attempt was rarely made within a short time after a failure of the first; for upon their hunt- ing excursions, the warriors were usually as little prepared for protracted predatory warfare, as for combined action ; and the desultory attacks, made by small parties, and sometimes by single warriors, were generally undertaken by the youths of the tribe, for the purpose of obtain- ing an enemy's scalp, without which none were ranked as warriors, or permit- ted, but in rare instances, to take part in the discussions at their public councils. After the signal success of the scouts, the warriors continued, for some time, to pursue Uieir daily occupations, without the occurrence of any new alarm, or of any thing calculated to disturb the rela- tions of all the parties to one another. Some accidents, however, now liappenod to which the presence of the Micmac gave rise, which seer!' d fraught with conse- quences, that threatened to derange, at once, both the present harmony that reigned, and all the cherished plans of the father of Adalie for the prosecution of his moral labours. It liiid not been long in that there existed any design on the part of his white guests, to mterrupt, or in any way interfere with the sacrifice when the time should arrive; and he thought the intercourse kept up between them and the Micmac oy means of Adalie, originated in, and never exceeded, the desire of the white man to obtain some THE RED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 85 information, concerning the men of hi» own colour, who must at least have had some communication with the compatriotr of the prisoner. It was, indeed, for the very purpose of favouring this object, that the red chief had caused the trial of the fortitude of the Micmac by the ac- customed torture, to be delayed until the return of the warriors to their capital village. But the father of Adalie, besidei' the linow ledge which he thought he might acquire concerning the condition oi the Micmacs, and tlie nature of their t:on- nection with white men, through the m- tercourse which tool* place between ln;r> daughter and the captive, foresaw many other indire(;t means, by which the cap- tun^ mifc'ht tend to forward the great objects of the cherished mission, to which he believed himself appointed. He looked upon the contemplated sacritice, as one of those striking instances of barbarity, which, through the lirppy turn of some uncommon occurrence, might be made instrumental in awakening the principles ri8oner to his inveterate enemies; but le refused to listen to any terms, or any proposition, through which he might receive the least hope of escape. He would have accepted life at the hands of ity 86 OITAWAH, THK LAST CHIEF OK tlie iiioanest of liis trii)(>, ur niodc! his cscapo bv any stratau;(!iii tit' his own; but !ie wnulil not bu indi^bttid to oxm wiioin ho doomed au enemy, for an obligation so precious, uccomitiinicd, an it must iieeiis be, by conditiuus, such a.s a warrior might not eoufbrm to with honour, or accept, with any expectation of returniuf; to taKC liis former rank in his tribe. Hut as ho became more and more accjuainted with the character of Adalie, what had oripinally excited his reproaches, Ijejijan to impress his yet luiman heart, and to subdue his haughty reserve. He now began, indeed, to be sensible of feelings to winch he was before a stranger; and as Adalie's influence increased, she be- came more frequent in her visits to the wigwam here he was confined and bound. As the daughter of the white exile pro- ceeded in her benevolent work, tlie sus- picions of Ahtomah were awakened, lie loved the maiden; yet his tenderness did not exceed that of the purest friendship, mingled with the excessive respect which had been originally inspired by the mys- tery that hung uptm everything con- nected with its object, and heightened and maintained, bv the extraordinary knowledge which tne white maiden dis- played. Had the being, upon whom his thoughts more passionately dwelt, been even known to be no more, in spite of his occasiona! raptures, when Adalie lay sleeping before him, or was engaged in any of her gentler occupations, he knew not that he could entertain any other sentiments towards her, than those with which she had already inspired him. But he could not, with patience, support the thought, that one so dear tv^ him, and upon whom so large r. portion of the destinies of his people might hang, should exchange any reciprocal feelings of any kind, with his deadly foe. But Ahtomah, if we compare the feel- ings which he possessed, with those of the warriors of his tribe, might at this time, indeed, be said to huve, at least tasted of the cup of civilisation; but he had not yet drunk enough of the waters of know- ledge, to comprehend the moral law, which bids us repay evil with good; and he knew no sufficient cause to which he could attribute the solicitude of Adalie, and her attention to the captive, but aftec tion of the same character as that which he knew she, at one. time at least, enter- tained for himself. But the feelingfi and the thoughts of the white maiden, were of a character rerv difforont from those which the youthful warrior had conceived; and it would even be to do her less than justice, to attribute her perseverance in her endeavours to overcome the haughty teinperof the Mic- mac. solely to her de:iire to j)i;t into prac- tice the Christian precept above-mentioned. She had inducements, which, although of a more mixed character, involved even a greater sacrifice than the forgiveness of injuries, while they were not the less pure, and the less distmct, from those which Ahtomah had conceived, than the noblest motives from which the practice of Chris- tian charity and benevolence can proceed. The least disinterested motive which inttuenced Adalie in the constancy and per severance which she exhibited in her visits to the Micmac, and her endurance of his contempt, was a secret desire to discover, whether the fond object of Ahtomah's ardent passion, of which she had become fully informed, still existed; and, if alive, under what circumstances, or by what sacrifice, she had preserved life, and, whether the blood of her race was still free from the supposed contami- nation of a Micmac alliance. It wa8 the custom of the savages, after such success as had lately attended the Micniacs, to put every soul to death, that came within their power, except the virgin daughters of their enemies, or the most beautiful of the warrior's wives. AU that were not slaughtered, were con- ducted to the home of the invaders; and if any willhigly consented to the conjugal embraces of the warriors of the conquer- ing tribe, they were presented to tiiose who had most distinguished themselves on the particular occasion; and they were unhesitatingly adopted and placed upon an equal iTioting with the native born women of the people with whom they were now amalgamated. But such of the female prisoners as refused the pro- tection and alliance which was proffered, were entertained for a limited time, with as much humanity as wild men, perhaps, ever exhibit; after which, their assent not being obtained, they were treated, according to the caprice which happened to govern the WHrriots at the term of their probation. Home where savagely massacred: others were led to the un- willing embraces of the enemies of their tribe, who, having gratified the ftrut impulse of their cruel nature, exposed their victimt> upon the top oi some rock nr mountain, where wild neasta or birds devoured them. But it was usual, when the wives or daughters of chiefs wore cnptured, to treat them with jirtater rospect, i\nd put oil' the trial of their THE RED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 87 constancy, for a longer period of time; and, in caae of their persisting in their resolutions, to erect an altar, and torture and burn them, with the same barbarity that was shewn to the warriors when taken alive. These customs were not unknown to Adalie; and she was well aware, that to subdue the stoic spirit of the Micmac prisoner, was the single hope that existed, of ascertaining whether, as was most probable, the object of Ahtomah's love had been conducted to their ter- ritory, and, if she still existed, under what circumstances she had preserved her life. The daughter of the white man de- termined witli herself to leave no means untried, by wliich she might resolve the question; and she persevered in her endeavours, until it seemed as if the love of life, of which the Micmac might entertain a hope, through her means, of preserving, had prevailed with the savage over his native pride, and his fear of disgrace. But whatever were the feelings which the Micmac now entertained, he had at least determined to impress Adalic with a belief, that there was yet u chance of re- covering the Indian maiden, concerning whose position as the betrothed of the son of the red chief, he had already art- fully gathered sufficient intelligence, through the unsuspecting Adalie herself, to enable him to pursue his designs. In the meantime there were still war- riors in the red camp, ever ready to take advantage, at any 8acrifice,of an occasion for covertly gratifying their concealed hatred against the strangers, by whoso influence they had already foreseen the final overthrow of the opinions of which they had been the steady advocates, and, perhaps, their own destruction. With these, there might bo little wanting, to turn to their advantage, the change which the feelings of the prisoner appeared to have undergone, even though it should accomplish the very objects which Adalie had in view with so differert motives, but a cover to conceal their purposes, and a means of superseding the well-known objection to his release, which the pri- soner himself entertained. But we have at present rather to do with the posilion of the Micmac, as it regarded the for- tunes of Adalie, than the oflFocts of the white maiden's coinmunitation with the enemy of the red race, in their general relation to the affairs of the tribe. The Micmac was unacquainted with the maiden's affection for Antomah, and the motives which influenced Adulie's actions, were too refined and too pure to conio within the conceptions of a savage, lie rather believed, that all her tenderness, and her offers to him, were the result of such a passion for himself, as would pliico her power and influence entirely ut his service. Thus he informed Adalie, that the betrothed bride of Ahtomah hud not been sacrificed; but that she had been unstained exposed upon the moun- tains, and, according to the custom of the tribe, provided with ample sustenance for many days; and further, that women of good fortitude, had been often known to maintain themselves for several months, when they had been in a siniiliir manner exposed at the same favourable season. In fine, the Micmac, as soon as he felt convinced that the perseverance of the white maiden, and the risk which she- ran in interfering with what sei'med tn concern himself alone, could proceed from no other motive? than that which he had ctmceived, communicated to her his intention of accepting life, if he could pro- cure it without incurring any obligation, save to her alone. And this announce- ment of the change in his feelings, he accompanied with a proposal to lead his liberator to his own people. It has lieen alrea(ly said, that it would be to do less than justice to Adalie, even to attribute her labours to the desiri' of returning evil for good ; nor was her virtue limited to the additional wish, to tranc^uillizo the mind of Ahtomah, by as- certaining the fate of Manamana. But so pure was her affection for the youth- ful warrior, a 'd so free from the selfish principle was her spotless mind, that from the moment the Micmac had indicated the possibility of Manamana being alive, she had even contemplated the sacrifice of herself, to restore the long-jiorted lovers to each other's embrace; and full of these benevolent thoughts, she engaged the more ardently in the pursuit of her generous object. She dared not, how- ever, to mention her intentions even to her usual confidant, the faithful Shahdac, who had lieen acquainted with all that hud passed between his mistrops and the Micmac, up to the time that the captive had seemed to (change his intention; and, as the intercourse between the white maiden and the prisoner was now often conducted, in part, in Shahdac's absence, the good attendant upon Adalie was ig- norant of what had since transpired. But in order that our estimation of the purity of Adalie's motives, and of the ll 88 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIKF OF unearthly character of the action which she designed to perform, may not mag- nify mere human virtue, into what might belong to the celestial nature alone, it must not be forgotten, that her rival, could appear to her, but little more than the creation of an hour's fancy, or ns a being that might scarce seem to have real existence, and not like one, whose supe- rior charms had for ever blighted her hopes before her eyes. Any impression, therefore, which the fair child couldhave formed of the aihanced bride of the young chief, may be well considered, as too im- perfect to prove her entire conquest over the seltish principle of our nature, which we find, to a greater <«• less extent, pre- vail in every human breast. She knew too, that in the attempt to recover Mana- mana, she might at least succeed in put- ting an end to the state of suspense which both herself ami Aiitomah endured, bhould the red nn\iden still live, Adalic could not but know, indeed, ihjit she was unchangeable, but if the blow tliat should then fall upon herself were certain, it must be quick. AVberoos, should the knowledge of Manamana's decease be the issue of the undertaking, she as certainly knew, it would remove every obstacle that stood between her and her hopes, and finally fill the measure of all her joys. But the struggle wh'ch Adulie had to maintain, between the opposite passions which had taken possession of lier spot- less soul, was more than her nature was able to bear. She loved the red youth with a passion that had induced her to contemplate risking the sacrifice of her- self to obtain his happiness; yet this might not be accomplished without abandoning even her father, when the services which she rendered him in the prosecution of his labours, were, perhaps, most of all required. As these contrary feelings continued to Eerplex the mind of the white maideti, she ecame more than ordinarily thoughtful; and she sought every opportunity to in- dulge her solitary meditations; while she now spoke of the Micmae more cautiously, and less frequently, than formerly. This evident change in the demeanour and mind of Adalie, together with the knowledge that Shahdac was now no longer wholly privy to all that passed between his mistress and the captive, alarmed the apprehensions of Ahtomah, to a degree that even Indian stoicism could scarce conceal, and he determined to dis- cover the cause of the change which had taken place in the feelings or disposition of Adalie. In the meantime, the white maiden was not unobservant of the anxiety of Ahto- mah; and she resolved, on her part, to continue no longer in the state of inde- cision, which so much oppressed her; and, as a first step towards accomplishing her release, from the state of painful suspense in which she lived, she determined to abandon her reserve, and to open her mind to the youthful warrior, whom she trusted would assist her in removing the difficulties that might present themselves, to obstruct the attempt to carry out the dangerous undertaking; and, an occasion was not long wanting, to enable the enthusiastic maiden to put her intentions into execution. As Ahtomah was seated upon his mat, after the fatigues of a day of hunting, and occupied with his thoughts concerning the suspicions which ho had conceived, Adalie, witli the character of deeper feel- ing than usual impressed uptm her coun- tenance, entered his wigwam. " Good Ahtomah," said the w hite maiden, as soon as she had a little recovered from the agitation which was natural to her situation, "I have tidings to communicate to the son of the red chief. Too well 1 know upon what Ahtoniah's thoughts for ever dwell, and I have desired to set hi;) mind at rest." Then, after a pause, she conti. ued: " Know brave youth " But at these words, the quick eye of the young warrior met that of Adalie; and such were the effects of his glance, that the white maiden remained for some minutes without the power of speech; then, endeavouring to proceed, she added : "That, the noble Manamana ' IJut lure the intent look and searching eje of tiie youth again disturbed and arrested the conununicatitm of the maiden ; and it was not until after a considerable .'.ue that she thus continued: "The affianced bride," said she. But ere these words were well uttered, the young warrior exclaimed- "Is the wife— but tell me no more — is the wife — of a Micmae." " She is not so," said Adalie, in a tone of more confidence. "Then, what hast thou learned? say the worst. For nothing can change me to woman but that. She was tortured?" " No." " She refused brave son of Ottawah — she refuSjcd to wed an enemy of her tribe, and was exposed upon the mountains. She confessed that she was be'rotlud to the son of the red chief." Such is the state- ment of the capti"e; and his description ..atf. THK RED IM)I.V\S OF XKWFOUNDLAND. 89 of Mimanianii, is so like that wliiih Alito- mah himself drew of the lost maiden, when he first spoke of her in the holy moun- tain, that Adalie seems, a second time, to have seen the betrothed of the future chief of the red tribe. The young Indian had never dreamed of the probability of accjuiring any s\uh information from the Micmac. But when he heard this report, he was as much confounded and ow rcome by his thangt' of feelings towanls the white maiden, which the communication had produced, ■■*— • as he was struck with the importance of the information wliii'li Adalie had so op- portunely elicited; and, he instructed her to purs\ie her inquiries, and to employ all the arts she co-'i command, to obtain the most exact accounts from the Micmac, without permitting him to suspect the quarter in which her inquiries origi- nated, or the ends for which they were made. The position of Adalie, and her relation to the transactions in which she was en- gaged, were now, in some degree, changed. 13 IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) V ^< V. fJ.x 1.0 I.I 1.25 12.2 IIW 14 Hill 1.6 V] (^ /a ^l o / Photographic Sciences Corporation 33 WIST MAIN STRIkT WiBSTM.N.Y 14SB0 (716) 873-4J03 iV 4* \ 4 ^ «•■ 1.^ c^ <^ ) .^ fc ^ WM m III m 11 i' 90 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIKF OF She felt all the relief she had expected from her open communic'ition with Ah- tomah, while she had the honeht of his more penetrating genius, to assist her endeavours, and aid her further investi- gations. Yet, every step she proceeded, might tend to restore her rival to thq arms of the youth, from whom, a return of the same sentiment which she herself had so long cherished, and, which would in that case be impossible, was the thread upon which her very existence seemed to hang; for, she believed that she could not survive the very confirmation of the tale, the truth or falsehood of which she laboured, with all her endeavours to establish. But Adalie persevered in her inquiries, and redoubled her efforti to obtain every information she could glean fi'om the Micmae. And so powerfully did she seem to have wrought upon the mind of the prisoner, that he appe^ved to conceal nothing that was known to hiip, from her knowledge; and, as his con^piunlcatjonsi proceeded She began to lose m\ UowbtSi which she might before have snierta}ne4i of the ultimate recovery of tOP Ted maiden, and of the return pf ^he hptrathed of the son of the chief to her UWi^- But the discoveries of ^V^lftUe, as the most minute partjculivrs Vere from time to time etin^mmiipatod to Ahtomah, made a ^jifbrent impressitui upon the mind of the yputh. !!« now believed, that the suporlpf ftvt i>f the pvjsonor, whose zeal might bP stimulated uy tb^ prospeet of obtaining bis bbevty, aiid of carrying off tho white inttttlen. had succeeded in im])osing upoH her unsuspecting niind; and he thought he dispovered, beyond iv doubt, that the JletJ Indian maid, so long tho motive of his sorvows, had really been exposed, with all ti'io usual preeuutiojlS against oscnpc, whieh render^ hPV sur- vival improbable, and hPV I'ecoYerj' im- possible: nevertheless, ho did not disciloso (lis convicti'Mi to Adalie. In truth, he had never, save wiu'n disturbed in mind ity tlu' vciu'nicnt passion lie experienced, entertaiiiiMl a i)op(> of repossessir.g Mana- inaiui, (n'on should she have survived ; atul tho expoc'tation whic^h had filled his mind wluiu the white riniden coniniunicated tlu' issue of licr first itivestigiitii.uis, hiid been but one of tli(is(> lliiltering nionicnts :)f iinwarraitted iiope, when the fimcy gets transient possession of the seat of reason, ;in»' eraae its «rigiii»l InclJTi^tlPjls: they ma v (^ualifv or restrain the powrso of its de"- ai'-os, but they pftnnot change its naturi' 'J'hpre can be hnt few among men at the Siddle pevipd s4 life, who havi iMt known le sUn'ttcle between the genuine passion of pjivtylSupy, and a sui)mission to the arbitrnry usages of civilized soeioty.or of the no l(\ss absolute customs of a rude con(liti(m: and there are, perhaps, irone of riper years, in a state of celibaey, in any eimdition of society, who have not more than once felt tho warm impulse of an unmixed aft'ootion, ovt-n though it should have been again and again divorti'd from its proper object, by tho jealousy of rank, or tho artificial wants that esta- blished customs have made (>von a bar to tho porforinanoo of the highest obligations which the most moral state of society render indispensable. Hut there might hardly need apology for the growing socoiul attachment of the youthful Indian, for the daughter of the own, deairt now THK RED INDIAN'S OF NEWFOUN'DLAXD . 91 white man; seeing, that the living object of the young warrior's new passion, could have no cause to complain of the incon- stant character of her friend or lover, whose fidelity to the Indian maiden was never broken; and whose aifoction might never have been attracted by any second object, had a shadow of expectation re- loained, that the first yet survived, to reward the successful issue of so great a trial of his constancy and his fa'th. The new passion, indeed, which had found entrance into tlie breast of the youth, was but a tender sapling, just springing from the deep set, and firmly rooted source, of genuine friendship and i-espect. A breath of air, a whisper of hope, of the existence of the Indian maiden, might in a moment have cut oft' the immature flower of the new affection, and scattered its imperfect petals to the four winds. But of hope, of which but little could at any time have existed, none now remained ; and, as its cherished images of the future departed, the me- mory of former joys grew fruiter and fainter, and the ardent fancy of the youth, daily clung with more eager appetite, to the sole object that could supply the vacant chambers of his craving imagina- tion. The desire which the chief of the lied Indians and the father of Adalie, dis- covered, of being frequently in each other's company, without any witness of their discourse, threw the son of the chief and the daughter of the white man now more frequently together. And, as their intercourse did not seem to give rise to any suspicions, or, to be the occasion of any censure or regret to their parents, Ahtomah took every opportunity of en- joying the company ana conversation of Adalie, without the presence of any sharer in the delight, which her sweet discourse at all times afforded him. If the virtues of civilized life, are not known among the cliildren of tiie woods, the want of tliem, is often compensated, by the superior command of the Indian over his passions, and the consei|ut'nt ab- sence of some of the vices, winch under- mine our happiness in a more advanced state of society. And it was without affording the shadow of grounds to blame the parents, that the youthful pair were suffered to pass their time together, even in the depths of tlie woods, without any human eye upon their actions save their own, or ttuy cooler will, to control their desires. Ahtomah, indeed, from day to day, luiw found it more mid more ditHcult to separate himself from the white maiden; and he often neglected to follow the chase, that they might together delight in the interchange of their growing affec- tions, and their chaste loves. But in pro- portion to the increase of the new pas- sion which he cherished, the disturbing monitor had given tlie alarm to his hopes, and the most contrary fci^lings, from hour to hour, wrought unperceived within his breast. It hai)i>cned, however, that on one occasion, the y«.)uthful pair were seated upon a cliff", wliich commanded a view of the broad strait, near the coast of which the party were encamped. It was calm; and the glassy ocean reflected the azure of heaven in all its autumnal beauty. No s(iund could be heard, save the concor- dant murmuring of the gentle swell, which, ever and anon, beat against the base of the rocks, at many fathoms be- neath them. " Tliis is the scene, and this the state of the elements," said Adalie, "which so much delight my father. I wonder he confines himself so much with the good chief, your noble parent, during the brightest hours of the sun's course. The winter approaches: we should enjoy every fair hour that heaven 5 nds us at this protracted season." " But how much longer," continued the maiden, "if thou knowest, good Ahto- mah, shall we sojourn upon this coast of dangers? From the north, the Eskimohs threaten us; while on the south, the Mic- macs, yet more fearfully menace us. I never see the son of the red chief depart for the day'a hunting, without feeling secret fears concerning his return." But the thoughts, and the state of mind of the young Indian, were very dif- ferent from those of the white maiden; and, as unaffected by the soothing dis- course she had held, as unconscious of the question with wliich she had con- cluded, \h\ said, now, with emotion, which all his command over himself, tlid not enable him to conceal. " But, the dau^^h- ter of the Lord of the Mountain, is tlie mistress of her actions. Slie is not a red maid. If there be power left to the chiefs of the r(>d tribe, let Adalie sny what she will. Mercy, slie lins taught her friend, was the great virtue of her fathers. I'erhaps she may not plead for the subject of her tenderness in vain." Adalie was too mudi surprised at this speech, to bo able, at once, to reply; and tnere was now a short pauoo in their clis- course: then tlie youth, with more im* 92 01 .WAH, THE LAST CHIEF OF patience, but without expressly addressing the maiden, added: " There is ever a rock in the stream of my troubled life, perplex' ng and ob- structing the smooth current of hope ; and it varies but its form.'' " And dost thou indeed think," snid the maiden, who but ill comprehended the meaning of the youth's obscure speeches, and was more struck bj the declaration which he made, than by the sort of apos- trophe by which he had concluded, " dost thou indeed think, good Ahtomah, that the life or death of the Micmac warrior is at Adalie's will? My wish thou may 'at indeed well guess; and my father's will, and his influence over the chief, are well known. But I know, also, the shocking delight, which the sacrifice promises to the people ; and I fear that the efforts, of all beneath the chief's roof, shall hardly be able to save the young warrior from that dreadful doom." "But what emotion," continued the white maiden, " is this that agitates thv breast, good Ahtomah ? Is this the result of my mther's discourses? Has thy so- journ in the mountain been indeed in vain ? And hast thou yet to struggle between the off'ering to truth, and the gratification of revenge? Believe it, this youth has been sent into the camp of the Red Indians for some special purpose. The ways of tl>e Great Spirit are above our thoughts— bui his justicewill sometime appear. Suppose the prisoner should be set free?" "Sot free?" said Ahtomah, addressing himself to the maiden with less visible impatience than before. " He would not accept his freedom from the hands of a lU'd Indian. Were he so base, he would be treated but as a slave that had escaped; and ho would be no more a warrior among his tribe; nor would he be even worthy of torture, were he a second time taken alive." " But I, or my father, might rolonse and send him, a messenger of peace to his tribe," said the maiden. " Say rather, to bear the tidings of our fear," the youth quickly replied. "No, Ahtomah," said the miiidcn: "ho might carry a witness of his unstained honor: he might take Adalie with him. I might then, lead the botr<)tl\ed of the son of (^ttawaii, to her people. Adalie might restore the lost Indian maid to the arms of the future chief of red men." The Indian fixed his steadfast regards upon the white maiden. " I purpose," continued she, " to loose him, and to accompany him. Thus shall we But what is this strange passion that so disturbs the breast of the future chief of the red tribe ? Dost thou believe, Ahtomah, that Adalie will become a Mic- mac woman? She would fly to the Mic- mac camp, that in so doing, she might promote the designs of her father; but, she will never forsake, her parent, never abandon, her friend. Ahtomah knows not her mind — her heart." The youth turned aside his head, as he said within himself, "Can it be, that both mean to fly — the father and child ? What are these forebodings that oppress me? What! The Lord of the Mountain, the angel of the red tribe, and the daughter of his race, in the camp of the Micmaca — associated with the enemies of our race. The believed restorers of our greatness, be- come the abettors of our disgrace, and the promoters of our destruction ! The mea- sure of my sorrows is full.'' The young chief now gazed for a mo- ment on the expressive features of the white maiden, yet remained silent. But Adalie knew too well the pride of an Indian, and the manner in which a red man is accustomed to suppress every out- ward emotion, to be surprised at the effort she knew the young warrior to make, in order to conceal what was w-ssing in his mind. She' khew not, indeed, the precise natvre of the struggle which perturbed his spirit. She believed him to possess impassioned, and, as she thought, ircon- sistent feelings : but, she yet dreamed not of the change which herself had insensi- bly wrought upon his fancy, nor that her own image was now indelibly impressed upon the warrior's soul. After thf-y had remained a little time silent, the Indian, resuming his natural manner, demanded of Adalie, whether anything had transpired to strengthen the former testimony of the Micmac, con- cerning the captive Indian maid. It was true, that the Indian, struck with the reports he luvd heard concerning Ma- namana, had allowed a short period of liiipe to elapse, during which he had been less observant of Adu'.ies attendance upon the captive. But when ho had a little reflected, he abandoned every hope, which the white maiden's inq\iiries had awikened; and although, not capable of transferring his affections at pleasure, to a new ol)j('ct, he was, by his naturally social disposition, with tlie necessity of occupying the mind with some motive of interest, inK'onsciou>'ly led to improve his existing friendsliip for the being upon wliich that noble sentiment haa fixed, at the time that the more vehement pas- sion of the soul was actively «>ngaged. THE RED IXDIANS OP NEWFOUXPLAM). 9a And in this situation, the youth was him- self surprised, as it has been hinted, by the revolution in his feelings, which had been quickened at least, by the inter- course that had taken place between the maiden and the Micmac captive. Adalie answered the question of Ahto- mah respecting Manamana, by assuring him, that no new light had been thrown upon the history of the Indian maid, siuco the last she had communicated to him. " I am satisfied," said the Indian, " she could not live, but with dishonour; she has, therefore, perished. The utmost time of her trial is expired. She has gone to mix her gentle spirit with the shades of her fathers. But I well remember the precepts of your divine parent; and 1 will not unduly lament the dead. We shall see them again. I shall meet Ma- namana; and together we shall ride upon the clouds, and skim the upper mists. But we shall not meet again on earth." It was enough. The white maiden could no longer remain ignorant of the changed relations between herself and the son of the red chief; and, now, after every interview, she became more and more sen.e'Mo of her increasing power, over the warm and disengaged affections of the youthful warrior; and, congcious of the purity of her motives, but v, ith a mind more aiid mere perplexed and un- certain concerning the tendency of her actions, she still determined to use her power, for the promotion of her pre-con- ceived designs. To effect her benevolent purpose, she knew would be a work of extreme diffi- culty; but every result she could foresee, of any attempt to cary out the yet scarcely defined designs which she enter- tained, whether it were mercy to the Micmac, peace, or the recovery of Ma- namana, seemed worthy of a greater sacrifice than she deemed it in her power to make. It should at least tend to the furtherance, through peace, of the divine scheme that was planned and cherished by her fond parent, and the importance of which had been instiUed into her tender mind. The power to release the captive, by custom, did not rest with the chief. By tlie usage of the tribe, every prisoner was the property of his cantor ; and one, at least, of the two, oy whom the Micmac was taken, was a savage among savages. He was a warrior of a fe- rocious and ck'uel disposition, and, as some declared, who perhaps envied his present good fortime, possessed of more scalps of women and children, than of Micmac warriors. The present instance of his vigilance and skill, was, to this savage, a great triumph. He could not bo deprived of his right, without raising dissension among the warriors. The friends which he had, were but few; but a question was involved, that might in- crease the number of his supporters and divide the trii-^; which, at the present junc- ture, could not but be pi'oductive of the greatest danger to the common interests. Thus, the gentle Adalie, who gra- dually became acquainted with all these difficulties, was perplexed with much agitation, and many griefs. Her love of the young Indian: her desire to release the captive, with her doubts concerning the consequences: and her anxiety, to ascertain, beyond a question, the fate of the unfortunate Manamana. All these causes of sorrow preyed at once upon her mind and depressed her spirits. But that which was the most powerful iu its effects, was her state of suspense re- garding the fate of the Indian maiden. " Should she live to regreet her people," said the daughter of the white man, as she reasoned within herself, " what will be my situation, and what may be that of Ahtomah. She may return with a stain, that should for ever dishonour the son ot the red chief. The brave and generous youth, will not forgive the author of his calamity. He will be unhappy, and 1 shall see joy no more. Yet I must reach the Micmac camp. How else shall I dis- cover the truth? But Ahtomah must not know of my determination. I may perish: but I aiiall full in an enterprise, not unworthy the daughter of the Lord of the Mountain." In such reflections as these, did Adalie pass much of her time during the absence of Ahtomah from her side; nut irresolu- tion and uncertainty, were alike, the chief features, and the unfailing results, of all her reasoning. CHAPTER XXXI. '•All tliy ffiifC All lliy wakeful tvrrnrs, and utt'riglitcd drcums, Have now their full reward." Dkniiam. It now became the custom of the fair guest of Ottawuh, when the warriors were engaged in their various occupa- tions, or absent on their hunting expedi- tions during the day, to leave her father Uiid the chief, and to wander among the spiHco groves, or upon the hills which 94 OTTAWAH, THK LAST CHIEF 01' and there to in- her meditations, surrounded the camp, dulgo her griefs, and wnseen. The frequent absence of Adalie, had been observed by the son of the red chief, who was alone acquainted with the state of her mind; and he determined to sui'- prise hor in one of her solitary moods ; and, by persuasion or artifice, to obtain, if possible, the full possession of the se- crets of her bosom. ToefFecthispurpose, the young warrior, upon a day that he observed the white maiden more thoughtful than usual, while he seemed to engage with the warriors, either in making preparations for their hunting expeditions, or for offonsivo or defensive war, was attentive only to the actions of Adalie. The wh'-3 maiden, now, xmobserved, save by Ahtomah alone, left the hearth of her protectors, and sought the cover of the groves upon the hills, beyond the im- mediate precincts of the camp. The young warrior followed her track ; and he soon foxmd her, as she sat rapt in her forced thoughts, and alone; and he suddenly confronted her. Adalie, thus thrown o.T her guard, had not art enough to conceal anything con- cerning the griefs which oppressed her; and, she was no sooner questioned regard- ing their hidden causes, than she fully confessed to Ahtomah, the design which she still entertained, of releasing and ac- companying the Micmac, and disclosed the motives which chiefly influenced her, concealing nothing. The red youth was affected by the ge- nerosity of the maiden ; and, he was no sooner convinced that he enjoyed her perfect confidence, than every evil sug- gestion of his intranquil spirit departed, and he no longer hesitated to oft'er his best counsel, and to point out the conse- quences which her overwrought zeal might involve. With almost parental tenderness, and in the spirit of one im- bued with Christian compassion, he for- cibly laid before the white muiden the most probable result of t' attempt. Ho pointed out to her, the ruction which she would certainly brn.g upon herself, and perhaps upon her father, as well as the chief and himself; and, lastly, the impossibility of Manamana's being alive. Moreover, ne assured her, that should the red maiden be known as his afiianccd bride, she Mould bo the more corlainly tortured, instead of being releasoJ; and as to her own return, it was as impossi- ble ns the release of Mannmana. The ari^umenU of Ahtomali had now their due weight with the artless Adalie ; and she felt the full effects of that relief which comes to the soul, when, after long and painful struggles between crude and undigested conceptions of our duty on the one hand, and our inclinations on the other, we are suddenly able to unburden our minds, and rest upon the decision of one whose genius is above our own, or whose judgment has not been subjected to the influence of some passioi* tliat has overruled and misled our own sober rea- son. Thus, in a transport of joy, under the influence of her natural feelings, the white maiden threw her arms around the neck of the young Indian, as she exclaimed in broken accents intermingled with tears — "Wise and brave Ahtomah, you have again preserved my father." But she was presently struck with a sense of shame, which, as it combined its effects with the former causes of her agitation, entirely overpowered her, and she sunk, helpless, in the arms of the youthful warrior. Ahtomah was no less bereaved of his accustomed self-possession, by the situa- tion in which he was thus suddenly placed. He scarce knew whether the lovely form, which his arms encompassed, still lived. In vain did his eager spirit listen for the voice that had so lately enchanted his ear. He could not perceive that the being, that had a moment before en- tranced his senses, still breathed ; and he was too far from the camp, to leave the maiden, that he might procure assistance, without the risk of her being devoured by the beasts of prey. He pressed her to his bosom, but there were no signs of life. He then placed her upon the turf, and knelt beside her; and, as he again and again called her by name, the despair which his actions exhibited, would have been sufficient proof, had any human eye beheld his lamentation, that no art, no force of practised stoicism, in the children of the forest, more than in the sons of civi- lisation, can subdue the master passion wiiich inhabits, when it will, every human breast. Innocence, distress, beauty, united their efl'ects in the being before him; and, as a tear, starting from his fine eye, fell upon the pale cheek of the lifeless Adalie, it seemed (IS if nature herself proclaimed the irresistible power of fanej, over even lier sterner children of this rude land. But the apparition at once brought back the youth to his recollection; and, start- ing upon his feet, he exclaimed, as he wiped the woter from his eyes and looked around him — " Ii is fui'iunato, it is well. THE RED IXDIANS OF XEV.TOUXDLAXD. 95 There is no witness of my shame. It mififht have been said hereafter, that the chief of red men was found weeping beside a maiden in the forest." The younp Indian was no longer doubt- ful what steps ho should pursue; and he now lifted the chaste object of his tender- ness from the ground; and gently placing her across his shoulders, he began, with quick step, to descend the declivity of the hill which con(Uicte1 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OF They were no sooner well immersec, than the Indian began to harass his enemy behind, in the hope of obliging him to abandon his '^^ . But he did not choose to attac'c ^. m front, lest a struggle shuuld ensue, in which Adalie, not yet fully immersed, might perish, even though he should overcome his ferocicMS oppo- nent. But Ahtomah, finding hi: enemy more obstinate than he had an ;icipated, and seeing himself in the very midst of the stream, now made more determined attacks; but the bear coolly received the Indian's re^)eated blows, which seemed to have no effect upon his courage or his strength. When Ahtomph saw the ill-success of this method of assailing )>is enemy, he determined to fry another which his foresight suggested. lie now let the bear quietly pursue his way, until they were near the opposite shore to that which they had left. Then he hastened to land, with a view of renewing the struggle, when he himself should be upon the firm earth, and his enemy in the water. If he could accomplish this, he thought he might disable the bear, before the unwieldy animal could obtain a firm footing, or, if he should not succeed in this, that he might at least attack him after he liad landed, before he should have time to recruit his exhausted strength. But the bear, unobstructed in his efforts, was quicker than the Indian expected, and the shore was more fa- vourable for his clambering habits, than that which they had quitted; so that, the brute opponent of the red man, landed nearly at the same moment as his rational antagonist, upon a rough strand beneath a high bank, and at some paces from his (Uiemy. Ahtomah, thus disappointed in gaining the advantage he expected, and recollect- ing the strength which the bear had before exerted, determined to profit by his experience, and to use rather the faculty above that which his brute enemy possessed, than trust to the force of his arm, which had hitherto failed; and, he cautiously advanced, imtil he was within a few paces of the bear. The wily animal, at the approach of the red man, put down his burden, and placing himself in an upright posture, prepared for a second encounter. The battle must now have been over the unconscious, or the lifeless corpse of Adalie, unless the red man could with- draw the bear from the spot on which he sat. To eft'ect this, and, that he might discover, at the same time, what his enemy had lest of his original vigour and strength, the young Indian now shouted, veiled, and leaped from side to side, as, in whirling his tomahawk at the same tiii'e in the air, he sometimes grazed the skin of the beast, until he so worried him, as to draw him to several paces distant from his prey. The agile Indian now succeeded in placing himself directly between his enemy and the object of his care; and, as he continued the combat, the bear, with every moment, more faintly repelled the scratches he received, until he left no room for his rational opponent to doubt, that he Mas the more exhausted of the two, by his efforts in crossing the stream. When Ahtomah now saw the ad- vantage he possessed, he determined to commence a second close combat. He now struck his brute enemy beneath the shoulder; and from the effects of the blow, the bear staggered, and the Indian prepared to profit by the fresh advantage he had gained. Then, with another strf)ke, li inflicted a wound upon the side of the bear, that, against a less powerful animal would have completed the victory. The bear, however, now enraged to desperation by the agony of his wounds, gathered all his strength, and sprang suddenly upon the Indian. But it was his last effort. He succeeded, however, in wounding his opponent in the breast, and lacerating his left arm; though, at almost the same instant he received such a well directed blow upon his exposed side, that the blood gushed out in a stream, and he fell at his full length upon the ground, so exhausted, that the Indian easily dispatched him. The triumph of Ahtomah seemed at length complete. But the victorious youth, overcome by the loss of blood which he had sustained in the combat, ore he could fly to the relief of her for whom he had fought, sunk down himself, beside the gory carcase of his slain enemy. By this time, the effects of the cold water through which Adalie had been dragged in the same state of insensibility in which she had since lain, began to ap- pear; and the maiden seemed recovering from the trance in which she had so long remained. The eyes of Adnlie were now open, but their sense was still shut. But as she raised herself to a sitting posture, her recolle«!tion, with her strength, seemed in part to return. She behcln the bleeding THE PvED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLANP. 97 youth as ho lay stretched upon the ground beside the carctise of the bear. She could not compi'ehend her situation. Her first impressions were, lear, and un- certainty concerning the vrality of what she saw. At length ; she seemed to know her protector, though she could not com- prehend her position. She now put her- self upon her knees; and clasping her hands in the natural attitude ot prayer, with the fervour of her unaffected piety, and her accustomed confidence, she ad- 13 r/^^^«"""" dressed » >r brief petition to the God of her fathers. "God of the Christians!" exclaimed the amazed Adalie, " make mo to ccm- prehend what I see! and strengthen my arm that I may perform a warrior's part! ' Tlicn she summoned all her presence of mind for the utmost exertion, as well of her mental faculties, as of her bo(' !y strength; and, although, unable to attain her feet, she drew herself towards the prostrate warrior. OS OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OV III I > Tiio eyos of Ahtomali, as he lay beside the carcase of the slain boast, were half closed, hut their sense had not departed; and although the youth could not give utterance to speech, he was able to recog- nise the fair object of his passion, as she now kneeled upon one knee beside him. Ahtomah smiled upon the maiden, and Adalio shed tears. But as the fair child recovered her full presence of mind, slu; remembered what she had learned, of the necessity of stopping the flow of blood, in order to arrest the certain death which liuist attend its profuse waste; and strip- [ling off a part of hipr outer garment, she carefully bound up the young warrior's wounds; and in a few minute?, she had liio satisfaction to perceive the cause of iier anxieties removed, and the Indian rapidly recovering. " Fair, and beloved Adalie," said the youthful Indian, as his senses began to regain their force: "Art thou then still alive, or is it a deceptive dream? But put thy hand upon my lips. Let me be assured that 'vhat I see is real, and that thou art indeed Adalie, and alive." " Yes, yes, thou art the same," he then added, as his lips touched her hand. " Some good spirit hath re-animated that liieless corse, w-hich was but now the prey of a ferocious bear. And art thou, fair child, unhurt?" But the sudden impulse, under which Adalie, upon her flrst recovery, had been enabled to exhibit more strength than seemed natural to her situation, was now over; and the gentk; giil was scarce able, by her speech or further tenderness, to give the youth assurance of her perfect restoi'ation. But she looked upon her clothes which were torn and disordered. But ^Vhtomah, bade her regard only her condition; and he assured her that his strength wa^ fast returning. A little time now elapsed, after which, Ahtomah arose upon his feet, while the maiden still reclined upon the beach. And as the anxious Indian perceived that the bear had left no other marks upon Adalie, than the disorder of her dress — that he had drawn no blood — left no wounds, even upon the delicate skin of the white maiden, he exclaimed, " We must forgive him Adalie, as he now lies vanquished and ready with his fur to re- pair all the damages he has done." The youthful pair were now both ra- pidly recovering from the effects of their perilous adventure. And as the Indian Eut himself upon his feet, he took Adah ^ y the hand, and bade her attempt to arise and try her ability to walk. The delicate object of the Indian's care now ai'ose upon her feet; but finding she had scarce strength enough to enable her to stand, Ahtomah placed his arm about her waist, and led her from the beach inio a spruce wood above the bank of the stream. As soon as the J'oung Indian had now made Adalie place herself upon the turf, he lighted a fire; and as it was certain that they must spend that night where they now were, 4-dalie, as the warmth restored her, engaged in drying her clothes, while tl^e Indian occupied himself in preparing a temporary wigwam, and in constinicting such defences as the time permitted, against any sudden attack of another bear, or the approach of their yet fiercer enemy the wolves, which were to be dreaded chiefly during the night. The white maiden, having now suffi- ciently recovered, besought Ahtomah to sit down and recount to her all. tjiat had passed, during the time she had been be- reaved of her senses, and to inform her by what strange means they came into their present situation. But this request the youth refused, in telling the maiden, that since the danger was past, rest was now more necessary than the gratification of her curiosity. Then, gathering up the dried leaves that were strewed about them, and breaking off a few spruce boughs, he soon produced, and set in order, a coni- fortable forest bed, upon which he bade Adalie lie down and repose, as she might now rest in security. Adalie obeyed the behests of Ahtomah, and she no sooner laid herself down than she fell into a sound sleep. And now when the youth perceived the effects of the maiden's entire confidence in his ability to protect her, and, in his power over the inclinations of nature, which she could i ot think absent from his mind, as he sat beside her, he ex- claimed: " Great Spirit! It is thy work! Henceforth, life has no motive, no en- joyment, for the son of the re ^ chief, save the protection, the happiness, of this daughter of the white race." The Indian now placed spruce boughs between the maiden and the fire, to pre- vent the glare of the flames, or the in- creased heat, from awaking her. He then proceeded to finish his defences against the night, and the weather, in case it should be necessary: and having com- pleted these, he kindled several small fires around their frail abode, to scare away any wild beast that might approach. Then he descended to the bea^i, and hastily tore off the skin from the carcase Wsl ceived the oiifidence d, in his natufc, ent from he ex- thy work ! no cn- ihief, save of this THE RED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. !»9 of his late formidable enemy, a i washed it in the river; and finding Adalie, when he returned, still sleeping, he dried the fur by the blazing fire which he had made, and covered her with tiie impenetrable defence against the cold with which the vanquished brute had furnished him. The young Indian now seated himself by the side of his fair charge, wliom he watched with the chaste thoughts and interest of a lover, whoso passion was subdued, by the divine nature of its ob- ject, to the purest desires that might inhabit the breast of a mortal being. Exhausted nature had given way to the necessity of rest; and the gentle maiden slept as tranquilly, as when she reposed in tiie mountain beyond all possible alarms, and beiore her ears had heard the alarm of war, or her h"art known the anxieties of social life, or tlie painful course of contending affections. The Indian continued to watch the features of the sleeping maiden; and their placid expression now assured him, that the subject of his care, who slept so securely under his protection, was fast recovering from all the effV'cts of the untowai'd adventure. " What confidence, what love," then said he, as he still contemplated the form be- fore him, "must possess the breast of this noble maid, who can rest tranquilly in the midst of danger— protected only, by one that is not of lier race. She must be a spirit; and if no unchaste thought enter my mind, it is not that I have the j)ower of a red warrior over my emotions. It is, that she is a child of the sky. It is not I that guard her. The Great Spirit is her protector." CHArTEll XXXII. "And now loud howling wolves arouse the jades That drag the tragic melancholy iiisfht." IlKNIlY VI. The night was far advanced, before the beautiful object of the brave Indian's care, awoke from her refresliing sleep. As Adalie opened her eyes, she disco- vend her protector seated upon the ground by her side; and as siie fi>It her energies return, she sat herself uprighj upon her green bed, and addressing tiie yonfh, interrogated him concerning the manner in which he had assured her safety : but, when Ahtomah, in a faint voice, replied, by earnestly pressing her to sleep again, she at once perceived his exhausted condition, and she now endea- voured to persuade him to repair, him- self, his diminished strength, by at least ] some portion of sle('p, during which time she proposed in her turn to keep the ne- cessary watch. The young warrior would not consent to his gentle companion exposing herself to the alarm which her natural fear might create. But while they reasoned together, and disputed the right of the watch, tired nature accomplished what the whiti' maiden's persuasions et)uld not effect; and whilo the youth refused, even to place himself in a position that was better adapted for rest, he sunk suddenly down, and fell into a sound and tranquil sleep. Adalie, now seeing her wishes, thus accomplished, gently rose from her bed of leaves; and after covering the Indian with the same skin which he had put upon her dui'ing her sleep, she sat down by her brave protector, to watch his slumbers, with the same solicitude that the Indian had experienced when it had been her turn to sleep. While the youth slept, Adalie, in her anxiety for the return of day, once ven- tured without their temporary wigwam, to sr ' whether there were any signs of the morning distinguishable. But the sky was overcast; and nothing might be seen beyond the glare of the fires that had been lighted by Ahtomah while siie slept; and, she fearfully returned to place herself again by the side of him upon whom she trusted for r safety. The youth contin Adalie to keep watch the scene witliout th cited the natural fe; maiden; and ever ana ed to sleep, and V side. But am had ex- he timorous she now believed she heard the footsteps of some savage beast, or some enemy of the tribe. Sometimes she occupied Iierself in pre- paring fuel that had been collected bv Ahtomah, or in adding what she hail prepared to the failing fire, as a means to divert her thoughts from the natural terror which she could not wholly over- come. But when she most feared, she looked upon the Indian, whom a whisper miglit a\\uke, and whose protecting arm she knew might be in a moment stretched forth to defend her, and she thought she ought to experience no alarm. "lam but a woman," she would then say, " to whom fear is natural, and per haps my apprehensions are unfounded; and, if I awake my brave warrior, though he should say that it was but some leaf that the wind stirred, yet he will not sleep again." With such reflections as these, did the gentle Adalie long endeavour to set aside, 10.) OlTAWAll, THK LA8T CHIEF 01' ■• i m but her all or conquer, her j;roiin(lless fears j etforts were in vain. It was now past the dead of the night; and the howling of the wolves, suddenly breaking the silence of its first watches, began to add to the terrors, which the darkness and the night had been sufficient to awaken; and every minute as the sounds reached the ear of Adalie, they seemed nearer and nearer, until the ter- rified maiden believed that a whole herd of these voracious beasts, was about to spring upon them to devour them. The very moment seemed arrived: and trem- bling, she seized upon the arm of the youth, as she exclaimed: "Awake Ahto- mah! awake! or the wolves will devour us." The Indian awoke. But for a moment he gazed wildly upon Adalie, without speaking or attempting to rise. Then, in tioeming to recollect his position, as the maiden exhibited the signs of her fear without speech, he sprung upon his feet, seized his tomahawk, and was in a moment prepared to encountei some hu- man foe. But Adalie, now re-assured, explained the proper cause of her alarm. " It is well, then," said Ahtomah, when he understood the cause of the maiden's fears: "We have defences, more strong than the pickets of the ancient capital of red men, against all but our human ene- mies. Then he reminded her, that the most ferocious of wild beasts would not approach the fires that surrounded them. And he assured her, that the howling of the wolves, proceeded from the famishing animals having discovered the carcase of the bear he had killed, and the strug- gle they approved, between the desire to appease their hunger, and their fear of approaching the fires, which reached to the edge of the bank above the stream. "Moreover," he adde ;, "if we had even been in the vicinity of our enemies, and had good cause to dread them, no signs that the Great Spirit might have given us, could more certainly have as- sured us of our security from all human observation, than those which now reach our ears." And, at these encouraging words of Ahtomah, the fearful Adalie recovered all her wonted confidence and courage. " It is however well that you awoke me, Adalie," said the youth. "Why indeed didst thou, fair child of another race, lot thy sole protector lie slumbering here, while thou hast been waking and agitated with many fears? Yet my dream was of good. I have conversed with the spirits of my fathers. By and by I will relate to thee all I saw, and my thoughts, during the time of my repose. But it is now time to pro- vide a morning meal; for, of such we shall have need, before we set out on our journey to the camp, where the chief, and your great father, who know not the cause, either of your absence or of mine, must even now believe that we have strayed, together, without the cir- cle within which we should be secure, and that some sudden calamity has over- taken us." The Indian, now bound up two parcels of the rind of the white birch tree, which he had before prepared ; and having lighted them for torches, he gave one to Adalie, and as he bade her prepare to accompany he said : " Though a white skin, and a woman, should not attain the courage of a war- rior, yet Adalie must acquire some of the art of a red man. Our expedition is not a dangerous trial of her valour; but, we must anticipate, and cheat the expec- tation of the wolves. We must have the first morsel of our own prey by the stream ; or we shall have the bones, only, left for our necessary repast." Then, with his left hand he took the maiden by the right, while they carried each the torch in the opposite hand; and they left the wigwam, descending together to the bank of the sti'eam. The white maiden endeavoured, as they proceeded, to discover no fear; but some signs of terror, when the fiercest wolves howled around them, it was not in her power to conceal. They found the carcase of the bear untouched; and Ahtomah now proceeded with his stone weapon to cut away the most delicate morsels, and the most es- teemed for food among the children of the desert, with which they returned in perfect safety, within their temporary dwelling. There were yet no signs of the approach of day; and, as Adalie was now disinclined to sleep, the Indian sat down to perform his promise of relating to her what had passed during the hours of her insensibility; and he recounted to her attent ear, as much of the adventure by which they had been separated from the tribe, and thrown in company with the monster he had so happily slain, as he thought it prudent to communieate. Adalie was terrified at the account of the danger she had passed, although the young warrior had not only spoken of his deeds with all the modesty of true heroism, but even concealed from her, that she had been at any time entirely in the power of the ferocious beast. THli EED IXnUX3 OF Nr.WPOUXDLAXD . 101 CHAPTER XXXIH. " He sees with equal eye, ns '^oil of all, A hero perish, i r a sparrow fall. Hope humbly then; with treinbliuK pinions soar; Wait the great teacher Death, and Ooil adore." Pope's Essw on Man. " Night is the time for dreams; The gay romance of life, When truth that is, and truth that stems, Mix in fantastic strife : Oil! visions, less beguiling far Than waking dreams by daylight are." MONTGOMEUV. After Ahtomah liad so far gratified the curiosity of Adalie, the youthful pair passed the rest of that night in various interchange of thought, of which some portion was sufficiently remarkable to claim a place among the characteristics which have been chosen for the rough sketch of these two children of Nature under the influence of such abstract know- ledge as their circumstances admitted to any power over their minds. But it must not be forgetten, that the youthful pair to whom the above appella- tion has been affixed, could not be sup- posed to possess any knowledge in com- mon, save such as had been derived from the same source since their intercourse with each other, and was modified by the equal passion now predominant in the breast of both. We must look upor. the child of the cloudless region from wliich Adalie de- scended, as upon a being fresh from the hands of its Creator, endued with a mind, upon the fair tablet of which, little had been written, and nothing blotted — pos- sessing a mind, indeed, upon which no impression had been stamped, beyond that of a parent's earliest lessons, with the first consciousness of a passion which, "where virtue is," serves but to make " more virtuous.'' And we must regard the son of the plain, as less simple in un- derstanding, only in liaving received im- pressions, that wanted but the more solid impress of knowledge already acquired, to obliterate and leave no more trace of earlier images, than should serve to guide intelligence through all the mazes that ignorance and established error might oppose, to obstruct the approaches to, and impede the attainment of, truth. It is proper, however, before report i ng th is little intercliange of thought between the lost pair, to make more particular reference to the course of that instruction, of which it may be considered to indicate the first fruits. The foremost endeavour of 'he father of Adalie, had been to expand as much as possible the minds of those with whom he was associated, preparatory to taking a inuio direct step towards liis ultimate ends. Thus, instead of employing, what it mp,y be pardonable, even hero, to call the inductive mtithod of instruction, he had ratlier chosen, from the commence- ment, to present to tlie intelligent beings whom he taught, the most startling truths in a dress so impressive as scarcely to admit the opportunity of doubt, or to need the use of the reasoning faculty to conipreiiend and confirm. Beginning with the first cause, he displayed to their understandings, first, the greater works of the Creator, which come wilhin the scope of our observation throughout the boundless universe, then, the most striking of those wonders of the creation which have more direct influence upon the creatures with which the Great Spirit hath peopled this globe, still descending, till he came to discourse concerning the more familiar objects which man finds prepared for his use, or subject to his power of appropriation. Thus, the youthful couple, to whom the instriu!tive lessons of the father of Adalie were for the- most part directed, had been accustomed, at all times since their actjuaintance with each other, to engage in subjects of discourse of a higher character than those which usually occupy the most of men among the busy classes in more civilised lands. There, the mul- tiplied subjects of ambition, continually turn the mind from the reflections and discourse most natural to a rational crea- ture just called into existence and given the hape of life without end, into chan- nels that oftener contract than enlarge the understanding. Here, no such bane- ful elements had mixed their withering influence with the desires of these children of the wood, to turn aside their thoughts from the course in wliich they naturally flowed. The gloomy aspect, which the starless sky had exhibited, as they returned to their temporary habitation, had, at this moment, impressed Ahtomah with some misgivings concerning the turn of their fortunes upon the morrow. Adalie, how- ever, reminded her companion of all that her father had taught them concerning the lights in the sky, and what these ob- jects of wonder to the savage as to the civilized man, really were; and as she en- forced the counsel with which the white man always accompanied the truth he displayed, the Indian seemed to throw aside his gloomy thoughts and supersti- tious terrors, with the same facility with which Adalie had abandoned her natural 102 oiTAWAH, Tin: i.AHT (;iiii;i' 01' fours, lit tho Hduiid of his voiuo >v]icii .slit* awitku him. " Yet, Adalic," Hiiid tliu youth, us thoy contiruiod their di.sconrso, "yet, when I tiiiH whifh we i.'iliMhit, I mil teiiiplcd to hflit^vo thiit the CroMi S|iit'il liiith cnlariM'd liis (•rciitioii beyond Hie hounds whieli his own eye niiiy oversee, or to wliirh his cure iiiifrlit extend: and, wlieii I ri'(*oMect, tliiil we lire two deiieiidiiiit l)eiiij^s, tiiis niglit Bepiiriiled from llie trihe, »hieh niiiy well indeed he an nhjet^t of his Interest, I think wo tiro not, jtereeived hy llie eye wliicli ovorhiohs the whnh- erciition." " i will still he my fiiliier, iintl rojily to these doii'ils," tiieii siiid tin- white niiiitien: " and hure is at onee an example hefore us, wliioh should iilustrat(> liitiny tnilliH which the Lord of (he Mountain leiichei. Look, Ahtoiuah, upon this insect, which the lire liiitli iiwakeiied I'ruin it^!sl(>ep, iiiid whose existence ])rohalily eoinmenc((l siiu'o wo leftoiir eaiiipi and tell me, eoii- templativeliidiiin, wheiicccame that spark of life, which exists within it." diminutiv(> frame, unless, from Ilim wlio oversees the hoiiiidless universe? Thou seest, then, how His proviiU'iu'c extends, even to th" iiiciiiiest of His creatures. And, shall we, Ahtomuh, heciinse wo are not in th >ciimp of our trihe, he less ohscrved, and less oh- joets of His care, than this little insect, rojoieiiifi; before us? <)hserw> its win;;s. See, it has tlown uwiiv. Whence did it derive that iistoniidiiiif; p.iwer? "I'is tho (ireat Spirit within it. It is rcf^arded iifd eared for hy its (Creator, with myriiid.i of itH kind wliieh iiihahit this very t;r')ve where '..e sdjonrn. And.slniil «(• he iiu- Kcen or tinre^nrded hy the same Cretilor, in tlie midst of so many millinns ni'Ilii inferior tM'eatures, whom he wiilches niid provides for, and furnishes with the power of soiiriiif? into tho air, and reioieiiif>- in the beams of the sun? Uiither let us siiy, that if the erec|)in)>; iiivf"'! indeed lie an objc't of the (ii'cat Spirit's cure, liow much more should Ilis ci'eaturcs of thi' first rank amony; iil! tin- innnmeridilc living heiii<;s that he hiilh |ilaced n|)(>ii this earth, he motives for the exereihe of His oonsti:nt hi-nellcciice?"' " Hut tell me, Ahtonndi," conlinned Adalie, " by wliat power ihoii did'sl yostorday overoonio the ferncjons beast tliat wonlil have devoured iis?" " 'IMioii hftsi much of thy father's wis- dom, Adttlio," bdid the liulian in roply. " 1 love to jioar thy comments upon his disi'onrseiJ. They aie the proper eoiuhicls of knowledp? to u red man's soul. Thy lips, Adalie, are the pt^bhled brook wliicli conveys the clear streiim of truth to its ready receptahle, llie heart of Ahtomali." " tint," now said the maiden, om|ilia- tically, " Adalie is not yet 'ho full conli- dant of Ahlomah. 'llie hoii of tho red chief Ins not ^et spoken to his conipttnion of all thtU occupies his thoti^'iits." " Perhaps, Adalie," tln-n said the youth, " may scarce with nutieiice hear what still oppresses the mind of Ahtomah; for it is but the ■ memhrance of a dream." Milt ...n the maiden desired to learn what had distuvhed her protector in Kleep, the Indian thus related his vision of the past nij;ht. " As I slept, then, penile Achilie," said he, " I was carried in spirit to the summit of a lol'iy hill; and, as I cast my exs iip- wiirds, llie eloi (Is with which the MKy had heeii covered Seemed to open, ami I saw inmniu'iiilile spirits rejoicing in the full heiiins of the sun. Ihit as I stood n-pard- in^r thorn, n form that rcKemhIod thine, fair child of tiiiolhi'r race, seemed to issue from the midst of the hrif^ht iissomhiy, and, deseem'.iiif^, iirosently stood hy my side. I th< nj^l't 1 conver'ied for II moment with the inessenfifor of tho Hkies. Hut I no .sooner lietniyed the curiosity which I fell t > comiireh'. nd what I saw, than thy likeness, Adalie, took me hy the haiiil; iiiid, at the same instant, we appeared to rise without effort beyond the clouds, pro ceedinjf with incredible riijiidity in the direction of the brij^ht rofjjion from whioh the !;piril had seemed to descend. Hilt as wo advanced, now causes of wonder succeeded, and fresh transports took the ]ilace of tlios(> which the bright shov/ had excited. We appeared scarcely to have oHoaped from the murky repion of vapours which hud ohsc. 'e''. every object, sav(< the plit- teriiijj iiss»!nibla'(o of spirits whicli I had St en from behnv, when the world of red men and that ofspirits also, seemed ei|iia1ly to iliiniiiisli in ntilk. This dark eartli, Adiilie, first appeared changed from a plain to a f;!ol)e, which prew smaller and snmllcr, until it was no liipper than that which eiilii;hteus the land of red men by nipht. It was now tho colour of blonii, Hut as we ])roceeded, it eontiniiiillv diniinished ill bulk and iiicriMoed in hripiilnessi until, finally, it was no larger than tho evening star, while it a|ipeared as resplendent as lliat lipht in the (ireat Spirit's dwelling. At the same time, tho world of npirlis wliich wo wore ajiproaohinp Recmod dimi- nished to the si/o of tlioRnn, with thoh-une Ill from wlik'h TlIK mil) I.VDIANf. OK NKWKOUNHI.WH. 11)3 H|)l<\v vi.<;; riipiilly llinin);!i llif nliyss, lirvond which notluiifr WHS visililc, except tfic stars witli which tlic world weimd left was now indeed con- rotinded, iind tlic l>ri^;hl ^hihc wliich we were approiK^hinj^, which seemed the snn. As \>e proceeded, this luininoiis orli now f!;radnally i.icrcascd in liiilU without nny diminution of its sjiliudour, until its ^lo- hiitl form was clnin);;iHl in the appearance of a plain, which seemed iilioiindin^ in moving olijects that were Ion hrif^ht for hiinnm eycH to cont>'inplate. We now passed liirou^h a rt^ion, us it Hi)peiired, of eoncentruted li^;ht, of even lan^ihle Nultstance, and somi set linn footing, tipoii the liriiiid summit y eyes, and tin- whole talile plain of the mouutnin upon which we stood, Nci'med .suddenly covered \(iih forms which had been hefore iiivisilile. And nov.' the spirit waved Inr hand; and there pasMcd hefore us, inniimerahle rnl nu'ii, and all the chiefs, as it so'uicil, that have governed the red Irihe, from thi' time that the Hun first drew our fathers IVoin ihefrronnd. Siane lleeted liy us, hUeihe mist when it Is ilrivcn liefore the gale; hut others, stopped and seemed to look upon me, hut the ey(< of thi'ir underslandinns was eitmcd. Tliev »»>eined not to know upon whom they looked. '• At length, wlie.i no more warriors iip- pt-iired, came the li.'aulifnl form of a maid nl'theri'd -ili>'. lint I knew her not. She Mi'elched forth licr hands, and Would have emiiraccd me: liiit, sudd 'i|y, .-ilie starleil hack, and her huiiian passion he- Iriiyed till- features nf Miinamana, as she exclainii I " Wctiiru again voun., chief to the wor' rinw; fur though thy spirit is here, tli u hast nm, yrt ihrown olV for ever, the earthy hiilistaiicc of uhich thou art formed." 'fhi'ii, as Miin.'imana passed on, ap- proached a spirit in the likeness of my i'aiher; of Oltawah, whom we hut yes- terday saw — I fell r we shiill see him no nmre and he thus nddresscd me: — "Thou will iiui, red child," said he, " he long eiicnmhci'cd with tiie suhstaiu'c which iinw forbids ihy lenglliencd sojnurii here. Thou wilt change ihis body for one suhjc'-t to no ills. Il is not lawful lo disclose ail llie decrees of fate; but since thou coinc"! among the spirits of thy I'atlicrs while thou art still of earthly mould, listen to \\lial I am permitted to unfnld, and ihoii shalt return to the ^>orld of red men, far wiser than the seers of Ihy tribe." "Know ihi'ii, red chihl," continued he, " that the myriads of forms \vhich thou scest rcjoiciiig in light, arc iio( shades only, as they appear to tlice, of the for- mer iuhaliitants of the world t' iind in the nu'iisure and churiKler, IIS Well of the knowlcdg<> as of the happi- ness which they severally enjoy; and, they ha\e no less identity ihnn when they d>\elt in the world Ixiow. lint I will ther, ill part, r'liir up this mystery to "Kun\s, then, that the (ireat Spirit hath made worlds iiinnmcrable, sueli as tliat u])nu which tlmii iinw slundesl, which he hath determined |l^ till uilh happy beings siii'h as thiui s4'est rejoicing in light. About every one of these globes, which seem fnrnied nf fire bcfnn' they are approcchi d, he halli made to circu- liili' several Worlds such as tluit wliicii red men inhabit, to be the birth-place and first stage of existence to the crealiires w lii'ie final abode is in the primary orh about which the inferior globes circulati'. There he balb given the spirit, the form which it will retain for ever; but ho hath 104 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OF flothcd and onctiinbcrtul it with n sub- stance formed of llin materials of that globe which it inhabits, wiiich would bo but a burden, where light itself is the sole substance with which the spirit is clothed, and would restrain and limit its enjoyments. Thus, the body which thou posscssest is the spirit's first natural habitation, and sensible form. It is its necessary ap- pendage in the world which thou still inhabitest. Thou hast seen the bones of the dead resolve themselves into dust, their original element. Learn, then, tliat this is but the natural nuuins for re- moving till! spirit from its iirst habitation, to that appointed for its future abode. Did indeed tho spirit bring with it the former substance whicii gave it place and identity, the globe from which it came would diminish hourly in bulk, and re- auire daily new laws tor its motions, and nally disappear, within a time incon- ceivably shorter than the period deter- mined for its existence, by liim who formed it. " And now," continued the likeness of Ottawah, " observe this bright form which approaches. It is the spirit of my father, who fell by the tomahawlc of the Micmacs in the morning of his days; and he hath recognised his infant in the old man, even as ho himself was known also by his fathers up to the third generation that preceded his own mortality." " IJut here the spirit of Ottawah ap- peared to pausi'. And when I perceived this, r gladly seized the occasion to seek th? solution of some natural doubts which have seldom been absent from my mind." "Is, then, the Great and good Spirit," said I, "before whom red men bow, supreme; and is the principle of evil subor- dinate to that which is good ?" But be- fore I had time for further (piesiion, the spirit which I addressed replied:— "lied warrior," now said he, "one spirit made all things, and rules over all; and lie is great and good. Men of various colours, and of ditt'erent degrees of know- ledge, liave described him in many forms, ana with nuiny characters, and named him by many names; but the identity which they have given him is no more than the imperfect conception of their wrought inuiginati(ms, or the reflex of their own characters and actions. Some have counted h=s attributes, and some numbered his passions. If the first of these, assist the conception of his crea- tures ccmcerning their own nosition among his works, it is well: the other is all error. Study, then, but that which is within, and that which is around you; and have con- fidence in the beneficence of the Great Spirit. But " And hero tho shade, as it seemed, of Ottawah, again paused: then added — " But, mortal understanding is not that of a spirit." Then gazing on nic, with looks expres- sive of hope, tho shade now appeared commencing a new revelation, the first word of which was thy great father's name. But suddenly his voice seemed to fail; and while he appeared still speiiking, no soimds reached my car: and as I stood, still attent, the whole scene seemed gradually dcsolving into thin mist, which the winds were about to disperse when thou didst awaken me, Adalie." " It was my foolish fears that put an end to a vision so full of interest, and so pro- pitious," said tho maiden. " But we shall soon see my father and the chief ; and Ahtomah must relate to them his dream. The Lord of the Mountain will interpret it." The Indian expressed his impatience to communicate his thoughts and all that he had seemed to see, to the father of Adalie, and their speculations for the pre- sent ended. The youthful pair continued seated by the fire for the remaining hours of the night; and they convex'icd, cheerfully, upon all subjects familiar to them, save that which was uppermost in the mind of both; for a second passion had, indeed, now gained full possession of tho young Indian's soul, though perhaps, even yet, he suspected not tlio f.dl extent of its iniluence. Tho object which engaged his every thought sat beside him, loving, oven as she was loved. No doubts of a cor- responding sentiment, no " disturbing jealousy," now mingled its bitter ingre- dients with the gentle course of his atfcc- tion, to beget irregular and ungovernable passion; but, all, flowed smoothly and harmoniously on, as the imobstructcd stream through a peaceful vale. CHAPTEll XXXIV. "Hiiil iinlvcrHnI Lnrd I he boiiiitooufi Ktil! To bIvp us only pood ; imd If llio nlglit IlnvK itutlicr'd uiiRlit of evil or roiiciml'd, Ulfpor^e It, lis now ll|;lit dispels Ihn diirk !" I'aiudink J.ost, At length tho first streaks of the morn- ing's light in tho east, procIainu>d the ap- proach of tho hopeful day; and, by tho time that tho trees might bn severally distinguished from tho sombre mass of THE RED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDIAND. 105 'd seated by Kiurs of the eheerfully, the glooiny and atuiilcd vi';ivtati'in of these reKiDUs, the howlinj;^ of the wolves had ceased: and tlie g<>iilli' iind eahu morning, soon invited tlie wiindcrers to set out on tlieir return to tlie eueiiininia'Ml of the cliief luid his imrtyoflh(^ red Irihe. But neither their sitiuUiou, nor tiwir anxiety to re-^;reet tlieir parents, was sidlieient to cheek the niitunil piety of their dispositions; and hefore they left ihf defenees whieh had shellerod them for the night, they fell upon their knees, with thiMr fiu'es tcnvards that p' int of the hea- vens where tlie risinj; sun sliould appear, andi'asdn;!^ theireyes upon the firniainent, they aildressi'd their inornin;;' oraisons to Iliui, who wiis alone tlic wilni'ss of tlieir actions, and ol those pure and chaste tliouifhts, which nor opportunity could stain, nor temptation <'orrupt. As they now arose from their knees. Ahtomiih demanded of Adalie, whether she were ready to depart. " It is lime,' said tlu! maiden, "to for- 14 l()(t OTTAWAII, Till; LAST CHIKF «H'' siiUo IliU wifrwain, mid tlicsc (ii'fi'ncoHt yot. I (Miiumt l('iiv«» th«'in wiilmul nihiic r«<- " I must luivo hIciiI Nuiinilly imd lnnn," tlicn hIic mltli'il, us hIio t'lisl Iut cvcMniioii tl»i> rcsiills 111' till' liuIiiin'M liibniirsdiiriiif;- (li(> lli'Ht lioiirH 111' (li(> ni^m, "III Imvn iilliirdi'd lliiM' liiiic, Alituimili, In orci'l. lliiH iiii|>iMii'lnilili' linriiiT of Irci's mid slotii'M. I Nliiiiild liiivo lii'on loMH ntVuid, wliiMi llioii diil'sl hI(>i>|i, liiid I U|)()wn thai' nir ddi'iu'i's \\o\v nu sli'i)iif>( <^\\(\, »i|nm my IiimI III' JiMivcM I niigill ImVQ ) till iIk' iliovnilig.'* " Hill is ii iiiii NiriiMgo,*' hIio (<(i|ilin\ii rccliiitytUat Ukui <'i>iir('.s,m's(, Adiilit', I mys(>l!"|)os«0HH," said lh(> liidia\\> •To di'Uno llic ciiimo wo |iiuiil leftvo to iliy I'lilhor'.s wisdom." " My hnivi> |)rol»'otov," said tho rmid iniiidt'ii, "when iiiv riithcr has vslahUshcd imivcrsiil ,)('m'(', nliall we not Momctimcs Mijoiirii lii^;<'tli(>r in tho t'owst, iiuhcou by iiiovdd (-yt«s, siivo oiu' own? I Ulu> not I ill' iiioiivt's whii'li draw iiu'U lonclhcr into \illii^',t's iiiid cmiiiis. W»'i'o wo not haji- piiT in the moimtaiii, than in (Hlivwah'.s »'ii|iiiiU or llic rcil (111111)?" " Wo oiif;lii lo liiivo liwu m»,"aiiMW(>vod (iu> youth. "And did tho .sou ol' (Uta- wiill lii'liold iiis iiu'i> ill |io;w('Hsiou of ihoir Miii'icul ti'rrilory, ho i-oidd livo in I'outont ill Ihiil uioiiiiliiiii, iiossi'SHiiif>(viily A»\«ho. To Alitoinii!-., o'.ornal riilo o\or iiis liiho, would t ot vahui uit hour, past ill (hi' coinpaiiy ol'hi'r ho now iiossohsos." Tho aUo^tUms of (ho youthful pair, had [iiisi tiio hounds III whioh wo oxj»ros» our ; oUos w illi oaso; and, iirior (hoNoxpeoohos, hoili iiivohmliirily oiisi liioir oyos miou I III' f;riMind, ami romninod ii iiiomont siU'iit. 'I'hi'ii ilioy i"o-ontorod ilioir lomiioniry winwiim, lo I'oiiiplolo ilio iiroiniriilious for llioir dopiirliiro. Tlioy now loolt liMivo of llioir iii.uiil liiiliiiiiiioii ; Mild lis ilioy oiimo upon tho liiiiiUs of tlio rivor, iUlaiio .siirvoyod tlio spoilod oiiroasoof tho hoar, nioro at h'i" siiro Ihiiii hor foars liiid pormillod hor diiriujj; iho iiiulil. and slio oxoiiiimod; "Oh, Aliloinaii! Hy what foroo ihd'st iliouovoroomo lliisonoriiUMishoiisl. wiiioh, o\oii doad. I iiimosi tronihlo lo look upon. Ilnd I il rooovoroil my ooiisoioiisnoss, wiiiu II 10 iiiousi(>r was alivo I should lia \o ox- pirod willi foar. Ami wiionoo liiul'sl llioi ilial ooiirano. that oiiiihU'd llioo to fiioo Tt fills nio wilh foar, whou 1 oiihnlyliohoWl il." "Can Adnlio iihU," said llio Imlimi, " w lull tau^hl Iho hhii of ( tllnwnli lo pm- li'i'l llio diiufi|i(<>r nf llio Aii",ol of Iho ftliiiiiiliiin'i' (!iiii h1ii> diMiiiimK liy wliiil forco lio oM'roiimo 111!' liriiNiy Yos, iIhmi hIioiiIiI'sI impiiro, llioii slioiild'sl, ^\ondol•. t| WHS not I lliiit ovoroiiiiio him. It Ih lo jliolii-oiil Spirit, aloiio, Adalio, that wo (iwo lliy proHorvatltin. " I ounilot dwpjl upon it," siiid Adnlio, "llmv wiiii(ior,nl nrq Jl\o wnysof llonvin. H" lunoranoo was t iiroNorvod fmin iho otirlaui doslriiothm whu'h must hnvo fol- hiwod tlui siiinnoHt (H)|iBoioiiHiiosH of my ni(iiallon. I'ot yoaU'vday'fl oxporioiui- toHoli ILS KiihmisMiivn 111 all thiiins lo ilii> will of tho (iroiit Spirit, WlioHo wisdom is poii't'ol, Aviioso power id without houmis, And w lioso d'ori'OH mo Jn8t.'* I'iioy now proci'i'dcd to asooiid (liorivrr hy ilN haults. in liopcs of lludiiif;' hoiih' ford, whoro Ilioy ininht wado a^'ross iIh' oiirrout, o(' mino inoio Iraiiipul pasH whori' thoy (uighl uavigiilo (ho sti'oatii in Hafoiy uptai a vatt. Aa thoy oonliniiod llioir ooiu'ho aloiiji; tho vlvor Nido, (hoy piissod sovoral riipids. At h'lindi, llioy oiiiiio wlioro tho livi'r flowi'd moi'o lrmii|iiilly : aiu| Ahtomiili, iiidod liy (ho miiidon, now (ionslruolod ii raft of snrtloioiit dimoiiHions and huoymioy to transport th(uitotlio onpositii hIioio. ill' thou furnibhod hiniNolt >vivh a lon^; poloj and whon ho hud loil Adalio to ilir raft, and soatod hor iioar to ono oml, ho plaoitd hiumolf at Iho othor, and now iaiiuohod out tVoiu tho ishoro; and liy llio use of liis |udo, ho soon imuollod (ho fniil oi'iil'l. iii(o tlio ohaiiiiol ot tho riiniiiii|>' stri'Miu. Milt n di(Mvi'l*y '"'•'"' aroso. 'Pho river suddenly j;row tlooiior than Iho liiilimi ox|)ooli'd; mid not liiivin^ boon iililo lo form a porfoot paddlo, to niiiko nso of, in oaso tho depth of tho rivor fdioiild oxeoed Iho Wugtb (^Chis poh', Ahtomah found his fniil oi^ikU unniii|Vugeiihlo; al (lie smiio liiiie that ho |ii'r«MMved iliiit il was Hwii'lly iles('oiiiliii)v tlio oiirroiil, lowards a riipid, into wliioli it ooiiid not enter wilhoiit llio eertilndo of immediiilo doHlriiolioii, Tho experionoo of tho Indian, however, ena- bled him iiislanlly to doteel, the error; an dmiiior. d Adalio, happily, naw not tlm Tlioro WHS no time to deliboriite, Tho inliopid youth pliiiip'd into iho slroam, and swimming tiohiiid the raft, impollod it forwmds. iiiilil Ilioy safely frujned the pposito shore J where Ailalio landed the terrors too that this torrent o-xhihils? | iputo unoonsoions of tho now and uiifon: TIIK UHII IV I)t\ NH OP Nr,WK(JlfNl)I,ANI). 10'; HCt'ii (liitifTcr every olislnch' llmt cuiilil olt- Hlriicli llicir jniinu'y In tlii< ('iiiii|i; iiiid willi li^'lif, hI<'|i iiiiiI cliiMTriil IwiirlH, llicy ri'i'DiiitnciuMM I (It liutil nnriifv, III till u'imkI li(ipi> of ri'ijrci'liii^ (licir iicnplc lic- liin> llii> Hiiii IiikI (■i)iiipl(!liMl lii-t iliiy'H (■(111 rue. Hill lii'l'iirc liiiisliin;<; llic ilcliiiN ul' IIi'im ikIvi'iiIiii'c, lip lu Uic nrriviil nf (he yniilli- Ciil jtiiir in tln« ciiiiip, it, is iicccshm ry !<• nnlico lli(< traiiRiM-lioiis nC tlic liiilliiini, diirinU' iJic iiIih<>ii<'i> ul' iIkihc, wIiu were iiliji'ctH oI'hiicIi dccft iiift'rt'Mt, mil. lo tlifir piirciilH "Illy, bill lit nil l,ln'ir Iriltc. CHArTKIl WW. " If II fi'fil iiiitlilriK pIbi', II Mill If (m1 iiiv ri'V'iij'r." IVrillir.'riANi (II- V'i'.Ni, I', Aaionh till' Hili'iil, hull iml. iiiiiillVri'iil, iiliHiM'vcrM (if III! tliiii liiid piisl, ill llicciiinp Hiii('(> Uic iirriviii dl' llii' Htniii^crs, \mih the Vu III cniKiiil, lilt iihIiuiI. iiilviicii (' Wdl'.lllip II llic il i-llHill iir r\l II- III' "ipii'il. I'^i'iiiii till' lime III' lli(> lii'sl, iippi'iiriiiii'i> ul' Aijiiiii', iind (it'llic priipiliiiliiry Hiicrilice Id |Iii> (.I'liiirdiiiii Spiril (if llii< Irilii', lliis liiH'd iippi'i'lii'ii ■ iii-tidi (HIS Hi'cr Iiiid ciiliTlii Minus, IchI, I1i(> hcciu'h iitid llic Iriiiisiii'liniiii wliicli III' wiliii'sHi'd hIiiiiiIiI iiiidi'i'iniiii' llir sliiliilil.y III' llii> I'liilli III' liis |)iniy, mid liH invii Iciiipunr involve llie Iiihs iif I I ftuwcr, by llie (rspiiHiir<« of iniiiiy iiiipoH- liire.'i iiF wliieii he wiiH the luitlinr or jir'i- iiioler. No new teiiel s or systelli, il Wiis I nic, were openly liiiiuhl, or iilieinpled to be esliih- lisbeil; nor, indeed, did llie Ijord oi' llie JVfoiinliiiniilanytiiiieeonvcrHcwi I lithe war- riors, nor ol'leii iippenr beyoiMl liie eiirliiii; the win^wiini oriheohior; but tlieobserviiiit seer, liiiil iiiiirUed, espeeiiilly, the p;reiiler proirpliliide with whieh all the late ediets 111' Oltiiwiih liiid been obeyed; imd he pondered in Hi-eret ii|)iin IheiieHt meiiiiHiir ibsti iicliii)^ llie iiusreiise o r llie eon lidcn III' the warriors in tho truth of all they bidield. Hilt ihat which hud heen llic ciiiisc of tlie (freatcst ill(|lliclllile to tliis seer, WWi ihe disappoinliiieiit w hieh he experienced in Ihe d ecliiie III Ins iiilliii 'lice wilh the yonthi'iil son ot'( hliiwiih. Ilehadobsei'ved the Hiipcrior inlcllineiicn of Ahtoniiih, I'l'oni Ihe lime of ihiit iiriiinisiiifr yoiiiij^ warrior's iid'aiicv; and, it liiid been hin aim, ttH Ihe yoiilfi h'H'w in years. In ^jiiin ihc same iisceiidancy over liis mind, which he had olitiiiiied over Ibiil oC ihn ^nioil chid'; bill he had roiir.d tniiiiy ohMtiicles to Ihe n<'i'(ini|ilis'liment (ifbisdcfii^tm: ntid since ihe eomin^r of Ihe Hlriiii({erH, he could not dniibl, tliiit I he heir ol'l Itta wall's iiiithorily was for ever conrirmi'd in his opiniotiH c(incerirnifr the supreme deily, I'i'om whom he liiid received hiicIi ni^nal I'livoiirs, whellier the while man now iimiiiiK' them, were their friiiirdian Spirit hiipsi'ir, or hii niorliil representative, and the visible liernld ol' bis will. It WHS Idiiiwii, indeed, that Ihecanlioiis ndvociile ol'llic worship of the demon, did not whiilly rc/iect or disbelieve in tin? sii- ]iermiliiriil ii^ciicy nt Iciist, of the ^riiest of ntliiwiih. Iliitii'lbiil iiiyHterionsHtratifrer was Ihe iiieHseinrcr iil'tlie fjood Spirit, the hniifrlilicr seer di(| not the less avow, llmt he \Mis the tnedialor with the bud, and that bis Mysleiii nl' worsliip was the firoper chiinnel of iiilerciinrHc, iind llie Hole meniis III' pi'iipiliiitiii|r, Iind tiii'nin|r aside the niifrcr of the Hjiiril, who, lit least, exercised more vit';iliince llinn (lie aiitlior of ^nod, mid WMs iii'ire diUlciilt to iipfiroiich and Th ractices of iinpostiire, however, employed by llie neer were many, 'I'liey ciiiiNislcd for the most purl, in pretended omens, mid occult interviews with the spirits of the depnrled; while they did not elfcct. or. III leiisl, iippcnr In etVecl, his fiiilli in llie wKired history of his tribe, which WHS blinded down by triidition frniii a reinole iifre, to the present, j;eneralioii, wilh iiiiiny appeiidii)r(>s of iriexpliciihle and irriitional ideas eoncernin,'.^ the Deity. As the time piissed, mi'l the meiin-i of this seer's obHcrvatioii incrciiveil, he luid, however, iicipiired information that led hill to believe that the inyslerions friicsts le, wer(< not, lis it had been lit Iril of fir.st, supposed, immortal, and. Mint the power of the ii^eiit of the t^nod Spirit, wlurcver be niiirht be present, did tint extend beyond the sacred mountain, or its immediiili- precincts. And from the time be Clime to llie l(nowledi.^e of the circiiiii- stiiiiccs ii|Min wliii'h this opinion wii> founded, he liiid become conlirmed in his resolution, to curry out a previous scheme which be Imd formed, for toliiily over- llil'owili|i; tlie inlhielice of the t-ivilUfri'Vf, Iind rendering!; miiversnl, the belief which lie iidvocatcd, of the pi'i'dominance of the (r I aiiycrs power o\cr llmt of his own );reat piiU'on, the dreaded demon; and the lime now Hcemed favourable for itcconi* plishin^ his piir|)iiHes. Adalie, by her allcnIionH upon lhi< yoiiiiK Micmiic before referred to, had innocent ly^iveii occasion eiion^h to foumi 108 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OP the most plausible reports concerning her honor, and her intentions; and it was not in the nature of the seer to lose any fair opportunity of gratifying his revenge, and, as he hoped, of regaining his lost or declining influence with his tribe. He thought himself, too, above all fortunate, in having, as he believed, a suitable in- strument to his purposes, in one of the very captors of the Micmac, who was, by the success which had attended his vigi- lance, now, especially, interested in the conservation of the established practice of the tribe which had been infringed by the edict of the chief, that had suspended the torture of his prisoner. This warrior too, he knew to possess passions not un- like his own, and to bo of such a disposi- tion as might be most readily made sub- servient to any diabolical purposes in which he should desire to engage him; and thus, to gain him over to his par- ticular uses was a work which presented no difficulties to his subtle mind. As soon as the af.vocate of the evil spirit had determined upon his course, he began the prosecution of his settled scheme for the accomplishment of his purposes, by darkly hinting to this fero- cious warrior, that there were just grounds to fear that he would shortly hear of, or v.itness, the liberation of his captive, which could only be effected through the instigators of the new opinions. By this means, he artfully induced his too prone coadjutor, with several of his follawors, narrowly to watch the prisoner, aiul, at the same time, to look with a jealous eye upon anything that seemed like an inno- vation in the old sj'stem of free commu- nion with the spirits whom they chose to worship. But for the present, he care- fully abstained from pointing in the most obscure manner, to any definite means, by which he designed, ultimately, to ac- complish his great object, the establish- ment of the worship of the demon, and the humiliation of the advocates of the worship of the good Spirit, From these maciiinations of the seer, arose discontent and cabils, near akin to cor.spiracy. Many of the warriors, who did not combine with the principals, were alarmed at the reports of innovations, or scandalized at seeing so much delay in the torture and sacrifice of the Micmac captive; and assemblies of the discon- tented, unauthorised by the chief, were held both within and witiiout the camp. lu the meantime, the refusal of nuuiy to attend the exercises and amusements in which they were accus omed to engage, and the gloom, which the countenances of those, that did attend, express>id, convinced the aged chief that discontent was becoming widely spread among his unhappy people. But Ottawah was not sluw to discover the cause of the ill passions that pos- sessed the hearts of the warriors; and he determined to appeal to a council of the chiefs, and there to justify his acts, and, if it were possible, regain the love and respect of his deluded subjects. CHAPTER XXX VI. " S(i spake the false dissembler unperceiv'il : For ncitlier man nor angel can discern Hypocrisy ; the only evil that walks, Invisible, except to God alone, By his permissive will, through hctvei and earth." Paradise Lost. The warriors assembled upon the even- ing of the very day on which the son of Ottawah had followed the daughter of the white man into the wood, and was so unexpectedly withdrawn from the camp of his people. The place of their meeting was a spacious wigwam erected and pre- pared for the occasion ; and the chief took his station, ; s was usual, upon raised ground, and w is supported by ore of the seers and sevc. al of the warriors on either hand. When all were assembled, their aged chief, now standing erect, began an ad- dress to his people, by apprizing them of his acquaintance with their discontent at the supposed delay of justice, in the post- ponement of the torture of the Micmac prisoner. He then assured them of the grief which he felt at tiie necessity of appealing to a council, to determine a point which his will alone ought to have been held sufficient to resolve, without raising doubts concerning his justice, or question of his authority, while invested, as he was, with the power he derived from his ancestors in a long line, whom their fathers, to the remotest generation, had loved and obeyed, "For," said he, "although life and death, and torture, bo the right of the captor over his prisoner, our ancestors, unlike ourselves, never danced around the stake of death, while engaged in the chase; and for this cause have ye been restrained in th(! excess of your exulta- tion; and, after their example of patience has the full enjoyment of your rights been for a time cfeferred, and the siicri- fice postponed. " It is a young chief, then," said he, THE RED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 109 said he, " that is your prisoner. And will ye, with Micmac effeminacy, and impatience, proceed at once to torture your enemy? Will ye, like the wolves, tear off his flesh, and slay him, while yet the sonj- of his people is upon his lips, and he laughs at your vain rage? And will ye return to dance around the bare stake, that will bo set up in ridicule, by the aged warriors at Ortawee; or will ye, like red men, defer your triumph, and the enjoyments of your full rights for a season, but to augment youi delight at the sacrifice, by the pre- sence of your aged warriors, who yet remain to shed tears of joy, at the sight of the warm blood of their enemies ? Let us respect the memory of our fathers. They were wiser than we." " Tell me, my faithful warriors," con- tinued the chief : " has the red name sunk so low, and have our enemies so enslaved our minds, so debased the cha- racter of red men, that we have become less patient than the wolves? If we are thus fallen, how shall any one of ye be armed, as would become a red man, against the torture — the fire— of a Mic- mac sacrifice? Is there a ^varrior among us, of less fortitude, less courage, than the captive, whose taunts, and whose defiance hath so enraged and overcome you? What, I ask again, did our fathers? and shall we do less, that should Jo more than they? Are the customs of our ancestors unworthy of our regard?— their example, of our imitation?" " If then," continued the chief, with increased animation, " if then, ye will that the sanctity of their practice be violated, and the precedents they have left us be disrespected, bring forth the prisoner, and begin his toi'ture. But if ye will respect the memory of the dead, let the predetermination of your chief be supported by the decision of the council of his people. Warriors! nor my grey hairs, nor my place shall sway your councils. I »vill retire to my wigwam." Then, with these words, Ottawah left the assembly. A short silence, which succeeded the speech of the chief, seemed indicative of the favourable effect, of his discourse. But there stood one among them, whose breast had teemed with secret jealousy and envy, ever since the sacrifice at the foot of the sacred mountain, and who was capable of every enormity that might be committed with expected impunity: and this was the »amo dark spirit whose machinations we have already in part seen, and from whom all the domestic ills of the tribe proceeded. The offirfous seer now advanced towards the raised ground which Ottawah had occupied; and, having taken his place in front of the immediate attendants upon their proper sovei'eign, thus commenced his harangue. " The last time, oh warriors !" said he, " that I took a part in your councils, it was to caution you against the dangerous error into which I perceived you were falling, by your increasing veneration for the worship of the good Spirit, and your indifference to the claims, or forgetfulness of the power, of the spirit of evil. Ye were then, on a sudden, entranced with wonder and admiration, by the mira- culous pov.ors that were the work of the Spirit of the Mountain, of the human re- presentative of the Spirit, whose negli- gence of your prayers and indifference to your sufferings have been shown in the event of all your undertakings. But ye are blind and will not see. Ye will not remove from your eyes the shade which has shut up their sense. Which of ye sliall recall to his memory the warning which I last gave you, and still look with indifference upon tlio ti'iumph of error? Who is there among you that hath not witnessed the late innovation made in the customs of the tribe." Before the seer reached this point of his discourse, mani- festations of^ the fruits of his secret machinations, appeared in ill-suppressed accents of approbation among llie war- riors, sufficient to induce him to launch into a bolder strain; and Uttern,oot was not of a disposition to let the favourable occasion pass by: and he thus con- tinued : — "Warriors!" now said he, "have ye yet ascertained the true character of the associates of your great chief? Whence is it that the hate of the white race, which our fathers bequeathed us, has degenerated into love — produced mercy? Shall we untomb the bones of our fathers? and, shall we in their sacred presence recant our ancient faith? Shall we anticipate the Micmacs and scatter the sacred relics of our ancestors to the four winds, and forget that we had a name? To such results do your actions tend. Such is the end of the course we now pursue. Change your resolves, oh ! warriors! before it is too late. Let not your veneration for the weak representa- tive of the good Spirit, your fear of him who hath dishonored tiie memory of the dead, and whose long sojourn inactive in our camp may well lead to doubts of the genuineness of his mission — let not these new passions subdue your ancient love of * 1 10 OTTAWAII, THE LAST CHIEF OF 'reedom and overturn the faith of your fathers. Did your fathers worship the patron angel of their tribe in the form of a white man? There are more tilings unknown to us, oh warriors! than all we know. What must be, indeed, is; but what is, does not alv, ays appear. Your good ciiief is bowed down with years. The hairs of his head are whiter than snow. lie no more remembers the deeds of his fathers, nor the days when his people were more in number than the forest trees. It hath been foretold that the red race should revenge their wrongs, and again possess the territory of their fathers. But who hath heiird that the glory of your tribe should be restored by the feeble arm of a white man. Have ye not heard, rather, that the allies of the Micmacs, your eternal enemies, are the white race? Then wherefore this delay in the sacrifice of tl 3 Micmac prisoner? " But let Ahtomah," now exclaimed the seer with affected cimfidence— " let Ahto- nuih be heard. IIo can doubtless tell. The son of your chief hath not forgotten the deeds of his fathers. He will not mingle the blood oi' red men with that of a race ye despise. Ye might as soon suppose the son of your chief in alliance with the enemies of your tribe. Let the future chief of red men be hoard." As the seer of the demon in this man- ner finished his harangue, he turned, first to one side and then to the other, in seeming to look for Ahtomah, as though he expected to find him by his side, but when tlio absence of their future chief was apparent to all, his countenance seemed to express equal surprise and disappointment, but he made no remark. Such had been the excitement under which the warriors assembled, and such the general interest taken in the proceed- ings, that Ahtomah's absence liad not before been observed, or at least publicly noticed by the warriors. But when this I'emarkable circumstance now fell under their observation, in company with the artful insinuations of the ricer, exclama- tions of amazement and deep murmurs of the worst suspicions proceeded from c ,ry part of the spacious wigwam of their meeting. For some time, no one ventured to re- call order. At length, the elder of the two captors of the Micmac, v/nlked, with stately step, towards the raisKl ground, and, with a countenance expressive of the fiercest passions, claimed the Attention of the warriors. The assembly, with one voice, signified tlieir assent; and, when the successful warrior perceived that every car was attent, he thus spoke. " Brothe" warriors," said he, " who have endured the degradation of sleeping many nights in company with an enemy of our tribe, we have been timely reminded of the many evils that we suffer, and of the greater ills that threaten us. Great is the cause of our discontent, and greater the wrong, done cliiefijy to myself and fellow in good fortune, in the departure from our established practice, of the speedy sacrifice of our captive enemies. AV'^hen was a Micmac made prisoner by rod men, and reserved to taunt his van- quishers, and accuse them of delaying his torture from the fear of the vengeance of their enemies! Listen to my proposal. Let all the warriors now present them- selves before the wigwam of Ottawah, and demand the present torture of the captive, whose life should be at disposal of myself and my companion alone." To this proposition all the warriors seemed to give their ready assent, as the same seer that had already spoken, stepped forward, and opportunely added: " And let us demand the nature of the connection of the chief of red men with the white race. The blood of red men must not be corrupted. Some impostor may skulk under a religious form. Ah- tomah, the hope of his tribe, is not among us." " Is the blood of the red race already stained by a sacrilegious alliance. Wher(i is the future chief of red men." At this first undisguised, and dis- respectful mention , of the name of their future chief, wiiich the warriors had heard, contending passions arose in every bosom. The love of the descendant of their ancient chiefs, the dread of innova- tion, the admiration of the virtues of Ahtomah, and the suspicions excited by the seer, their reverence for the edicts of their chief, and their love of revenge upon their enemies, with their sense of the justice due to the captor — all these oj)- posed feelings contended at once for em- pire in the breasts of the firmest of the warriors. The red men gazed upon one another, with countenances that porti'aycd the strongest passion, as it gained the mastery over every warrior's soul, For a brief moment, thei-e was now not a word spoken. But while the breasts of the Avarriors were bursting with sup- pressed passion, the silence was ■suddenly broken by a loud cry from without. The war yell c: pursuit, from the mouths of their own warriors now burst car was e, " who ' sleeping LU enemy reminded 3r, and of s. Great id greater yself and departure e, of the ! enemies, isoner by , his van- laying his igeance of proposal, ent them- Ottawah, are of the it disposal one." e warriors 3nt, as the en, stepped d: ure of the men with < f red men e impostor arm. Ah- not among CO already ice. Where and dis- le of their Triors had se in every cendant of of innova- virtnes of excited by e edicts of ,'cnge upon ISC of the these op- ice for eni- ic'st of the lie another, rayed tlie he mastery was now till' breasts with sup- 9 ■suddenly thout. from the now burtit M THE UKl) INDIANS OF NEWPOUNDLANJ). Ill upon their astonished ears; and at the same instant, a red warrior rushed into the wigwam, and proclaimed tiie sudden escape, and the flight of the captive Mic- inac, accompanied, as lie reported, by the son of their chief, and the mysioriuus white maid. "Yes," added the herald of tlieso astounding tidings, "the son of your chief, so lately the hope of his tribe, and the supposed restorer of his country's glory, he is now your shamo, and, perhaps, the instrument of your speedy annilii- lation." Nothing could now exceed the conster- nation of the warriors. Some beat upon their breasts with maniac rage. Some called upon the spirits of their fathcs to avenge their wrongs; but all w ,3 confounded, and doubtful what part they siiould take in this fearful crisis of their nIFiiirs. At length, the messenger, who was the associate of tlie captor of the Micmao that had already addressed the warriors, and who held an equal share in whatever privilege they might lawfully claim by the possession of their prisoner, with well- dissembled inditterence to every in- terest save that of his country, called aloud for the evil seer whom he seemed not to see. " Where," said the dissembler, " is the great seer of our tribo? Where is ho, who alone is capable of restoring order, rf^pairing the wrongs, and healing the wounds of the red people? he, who, sinco the fatal massacre, and the sacrifice tothe Ang(!l of the jrountain, has fore- told and warned us of all our disasters. He that is our best counsellor and guide? Where is he? Lot us seek hiui; and let us perform whatsoever his wisdom shall prescribe." The moment was favourable for the successful execution of the concerted and deep designs of the captors of tlie Mic- iiiac and the evil seer. And at this call, every warrior stood, for a moment, silent and motionless. Then, grasping their tomahawiv.^, and adjusting their bows, in sign of tlieir assent to the proposal, they called upon the seer, who now stootl before them, to direct them — to lead tlu ni where he would, to the redress of their wrongs. " Let us seize upon the white stranger, and destroy tlie false representative of the Angel of the Mountain," said a fore- most warrior. " Let us pLiee the sove- reign rule over the red tribe, in the hands of the seer," said a second. " He alone is able to extricate us fmm tlic many perils that threaten us. Were the mats of Car ancestors defiled by the feet of tbo enemies of the tribe? Nay, per- haps, flie emissaries, the secret agents of the Micmacs arc even now among us. A\''c sleep, while our I'uco is about to be swept from the face of the eartii." And now the general voice was lifted up in assent to this proposal, and not a word was heard in opposition to tlie uni- versal shout. " The seer is the saviour of red men, Uttermout is our chief!" and, while the cry of the warriors was still heard, the advocate of the evil spirit waved his hand, in sign of his desire to obtain silence. And when he had suc- ceeded in this, witli well-dissembled moderation, he thus addressed the as- .';embled warriors. " Men of the red tribe!" said he, " sinco yo have thought it good for the salvation of your race, to place all power in the hands of your seer, let mo restrain you from the commission of any sudden ex- cesses. Let me beseech you not to dis- lionour your cause, lost ye be not able to justify your acts at the general council of the chiefs of your tribe. Do no hurt to the person of the good, but weak and agtfd Ottawah, nor destroy the stranger who still sits upon the mat of your chief. Let us proceed to the wigwam of Ottawah : but let us respect his grey hairs, and treat even his .vhite guests with gentle- ness and forbearance. Let us hear what your chief shall say. Perchance he knows not of the absence of his son. lie moy mourn even as we mourn, for the youth, on whom the hopes of the tribe were fixed." Whether this insidious course was dic- tated by the fear of justice hereafter, or from any belief, which the seer might still entertain, of the miraculous powers of the Lord of the Mountain, the warriors seemed to assent to all ho recommended, and loudly proclaimed him, already, the saviour of his race. And the advocate of the demon was, perhaps, for the pre- sent, content to find that he could sway their passions at his will — that he could direct their actions when he would. Tlio warriors now demanded to be conducted to the presence of their pro- perly deposed chief; and, with the seer at their head, they marched towards the wigwam of Ottawah. 112 OTTAWAn, THE LA*T CHIEF OF CHAPTER XXXVII. " My pai*'''i''ar grief, Is of so flood-gate and o'er benrmg nature, Tliftt it enrluts, and swallows other sorrows, And it is still ittelf." OTI ILLO. " '!"hc hope and expectation of thy time Is ruined." II n NUT IV. As the warriors approached the wigwnm of Ottawah, tlteir loud shouts aroused the chief, and those around him, who were sunk in profound grief, under the causes which had given occasion for the assem- bling of the people, and the fears they entertained, for the result of their unf'or- tain deliberations; but the tidings of the supposed flight of the Micmac, with the son of the chief, and the daughter of his white guest, had not yet reached their ears. At the yell of the warriors the aged chief and the father of Adalie started upon tlieir feet; anr^ issuing from the wigwam, they presented themselves before the excited warriors. And, now, when the red men saw the face of their aged chief, who stood as uimioved before them, as they had seen him stand before the enemies of their tribe, they were suddenly struck with their ac(!ustomed reverence, not un- mingled with some religious awe, which the presence of the Lord of the Mountain had still the power to inspire; and a con- versation ensued, which, at once, disclosed the reported flight of Ahtomah and Adulie, in company with the Micmac prisoner. The sirange tidings, indeed, were not for a moment believed by the chief. But tlio good Oltawah, no sooner saw the effect of this report upon his warriors, and witnessed these evidences of his people's mistrust, than his fears, lest the heir of his authority sliould have become the victim of their rage, oveix-ame his ac- customed firmness; and it was only by the support of those around him, that he was prevented from falling with his face to the ground. The guest of Ottawah, was no less con- vinced than the chief, of the falsehood or error of the report which had alrear'y been productive of such fearful results; and possessing presence of mind, at this moment, superior to ' it of the chief, he as5umed a dignified posture and calm mien, and thus addressed the impatient warriors, some of Avhom, had perhaps, already determined upon his destruction. " If the children of your chief and his guest," said the white man, " have fled to the country of your enemies, let their names perish. If they have released the captive, broken the customs of the red tribe, and dcrobed the captor of his rights, let them suffer the punishment assigned by your fathers, for a crime so monstrous in their eyes and yours — record not their names: 1"^ perish, more ? feeble memorial of their being could your chief say ^t- li his grey hairs, and his frame bent down even to the ground at the sight of his people in arms against his person and the laws of the tribe. Ye believe, that the reports which ye bring, have overwhelmed your chief with sorrow. No, warriors! no! they could not move him. Truth! truth! alone, could impress the soul of Otta- wah, and overthrow the constancy of your chief. It is the ingratitude of his people, and that alone, that has, or that could, overcome him. Nor the son of the chief, nor the daughter of his guest has fled. They are not the companions of the captive. They are not guilty of the ^Micmac's release. Are they absent? Before the sun goes down they will appear. Let not your impatience lead you into excesses, which would plunge the whole nation in grief, and fill the hearts of your enemies with joy." The dignified air and manner of the white man, and the simple appeal which he made, had an instantaneous effect upon the warriors. And now, not a whisper was heard, nor the least move- ment observed. But all stood inactive and silent, as if under some irresistible spell. For some time, the red men gazed in wonder upon the white man; but when they recovered from their astonishment, and contemplated their aged chief in his distress, they turned their faces from the scene, and by one common movement, and in silence, slunk away. Then the white man, approaching the chief, led him to the wigwam from which they had been drawn by the excited passions of the warriors, and placed him upon his own mat. And now tranquillity and content would have been completely restored, had the warriors been directed by one in whom the love of his country was pre- dominant, and whose aims were just. Their rage had been, as by a miracle, averted or subdued; and any happy in- cident, might have turned the scale of the dubious balance, in favour of a sincere return of the red men to their accus- tomed reverence for the authority of their chief. But the never-sleeping desire of let their >ased the the red is rights, assigned oustrous not their eir being hief say and his to the 'i in arms k's of the rts which our chief no ! they ! truth! of Ottn- stancy of de of his s, or that son of the guest has ons of the y of the absent? they will ence lead Id plunge ,nd fill the y." ler of the )eal which Dus effect w, not a east inove- d inactive irresistible It gazed in but when onishment, hief in his s from the movement, Then the chief, led h they had passions of I upon his id content stored, had by one in { was pre- were just, a miracle, happy in- 3cale of the if a sincere tieir accus- pity of their >g desire of m vengeance which burned in the breast of the evil seer, soon lighted again the flames of discord, which seemed so hap- pily suppressed, and suggested fresh inven- tions for renewed discontent and disorder. Night came on; but sleep closed not the eyelids of any soul in the camp; while the myrmidons of the malignant seer, went from wigwam to wigwam, ex- citing the warriors to more (!<'cisi\. acts of outrage and revenge. And in the morning, when no signs of Ahtoma'- ..» 15 Adalie appeared, the time seemed favour- able for the renewal of the tumult, and a fresh revolt; but it was past mid-day before Uttermoot ventured to test his full inlluence with the warriors. The rod men were now summoned by the conch of the seer, and they again met in council. When they were all assembled, the con- fident seer at once proceeded to address them in his accustomed styk of harangue; but on this occasion, in despite of the :i I !14 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OP ertbrts of his emissaries during the inter- val thnt had elapsed since the return of the warriors from the wigwam of their chief, ho found their minds less pliant, and their wills less disposed to favour his artful designs, than on the preceding day. Thus, his arguments were met by the prudential hesitation of several of the elder warriors who had been among the foremost of his coadjutors on the last occasion of their meeting, but whose im- partial judgment, at more leisure, had tauglit them to suspect Uie siacerily of their leader. " Brothers !" said the ^rst of those who openly opposed the policy of the *dvo- ciite of the Evil Spirit, •• il'dejliberation be no longer the piivilegfe, or the love of truth the prido, of recj men^ your seer hath, indeed, advised you well. Tbe wrongs which ye|iave''ciM3ia'eBr enemies are gToatj hat jtjiey are inferior to those whic^y^e may sjd^ from ihe desertion of your friends. The flight of the heir~if Alitomahbe in ' troth ifled—^ the heir io ^e auJ^ority* of ^ttam-aJb, tl.e sole descendant af ourandont chiefs- is indeed execrable. It will surpass a^ former catises of our dishonour.* (Qtoe general flood o£ 'sha,me wiJJ W'lisli oui ^e memoiy of your anoiont renown; and disappointment, and mistrust, will over^ j whelm us'. The son ojf Ottawaji, a,» iihe enemy's canm Voujd be rbut flhe jbrectirsor (^f our speeay anniliila i>n. But jbave we yet the proofs of this our last— our first — misfortune? Tpbe act of shame fe reported — the report JS i^ejieved; fcttt Js it confirmed? TJie son of jtihe chief bif rod men, allied wit4i the enemies 'tyf our race? Let us not J)e blinded ^y jpassion. In the tumult of your rage, yoft Uia^'eifor- gotten to inquire concel^mrtg tlhe %mth of what you have Jieaf fl, "'ph'e ^cmac as indeed gone, and we see inot llhe 'sdn of the chief; but wlio ia^ ^ixta TtG^gfe- iher on tlieir journey?" '' " But here ihe prudent oi'ator hesitated for a moment, as if he expected some reply to the demands which he made; but when no on'^ ventured to answer him, in a bolder strain, he continued: •' Red men," then said he, " how long is it since ye reverenced the white stran- gers whom ye now accuse? How long is it since ye deemed them the messengers, at l(>ast, of the Angel of the Mountain ; and have ye now so changed as to sus- pect their fidelity? Hav6 ye forgotten the night when a host of the enemy, sufficient to have blotted out our name, slunk back atid retreated when the white maiden but waived her hand? And she too is your enemj', and the all}' of the same Micmacs, who lied when she ap- peared, as though she had been clothed ■A ith the terrors of the tempest, and held the elements in her hand, ready to sweep them from the face of the earth. Though ye should have discovered that the guests of Ottawah are not immortal, have ve therefore proof that they belong to the white race, at eternal enmity with our tribe?" But here the warrior again for an in- stant paused: and when none replied, he tauntingly concluded : " It is time to remind you, that in the midst of your passion, vou have neglected lo follow t^e trail of the Micmac and his associates whom he hath seduced. The prisoner was weak from confinement, and wounded by the bindii.gs that had been about his limbs. Even now ye might overtake him, and lead back the traitors to the red cause, to suffer the punish- ment of their crimes. Myself and fJtter- moot, in the inean time, will' contrive means to iinSict tortures such as the firmest among red jmen will shudder to feejjold." • ■ ' ' • ' This prudent speech of the patriotic warrior, gave new offence to many, and excited 4ibe bitterest enmity of Uttar- mooit, w^o, by appealing to, and indulg- ing, 'itihe worst passions of the red men, had gained an mf nence over the warriors |(;oo great ;toibe so easily oveithrown. And jiow "in a "wily harangue, the evil seer Converted ib Ihas own uses, even the efforts Ifor peace, which had5)eeii referred to by llic Warrior who opposed Tiis" policy; de- jcdarfng, that t^e JMaemacs had retreated, !fro;n % sense alone of their own weak - Iness, wj^cn th^y^olield their enemies pre- jptured :; ' an^ that the interference by jnearis of j^l^aiie, had 'been the means of saving i^be peW>etual foes of red men from l^bir^cfertaan destruction, which was im- itiflierit -Kvhen flie •strangers appeared. 'And now when tihe bold, as evil, seor, thought his insidious harangue had suffi- ciently perplexed the reasoning faculties of his hearers, he again exerted his ut- most powers to move their too susceptible passions, concluding with such words as he knew best adapted to excite them to immediate action. " Know then, warriors," said he, " you have enemies who sit upon your mats. The Micmacs have spies among you. They mock you. Will ye avenge your wrongs? Or do ye choose rather, to see the day of your own lostruction — to court the very means of your extirpation? Your last hour may be at hand!" THE RED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 115 im- " you mats. So seasoned with lies in the likeness of truth, and so well adapted to influence t'.eir passions, was the whole discourse of this seer, that the rage of the warriors was again excited even to madness, and they demanded, as it seemed, unanimously, the instant arrest of the white man, by whom they now believed the red tribe was sacrificed to its irreconcilable enemies. But as if the measure of their rajje was not yet filled by what they had already heard, several of the warriors whose opinions wore before imknown, mounted upon tlie raised ground, and seconded all the views of the seer. One went even so far as to place Ahtomah, in imagination, at the head of the Mieinacs; and as the feelings of his hearers kept pace Avith the extravagance of his , eloquence, he painted to their wrought' fancies, the ar- rival of the Micmacs with the son of the red chief at their head. Then he placed before their eyes, the very picture of the slaughter of the whole of their people, and the extinction of their tribe. The advocates of evil were but too suc- cessful in their bold appeals. The pas- sions of the warriors became now heated beyond all subjection to restraint or unity of design. Some exclaimed: "Destroy the enemy of the tribe, that sits on the mat of the chief!" Some were for march- ing directly against the Micmacs; some for sending forward the swiftest footed of their warriors, in hopes of overtaking the captive. All was confusion. A thousand schemes were proposed, but nono were put in execution. At length, the captor of the Micmac, who stood beside the last speaker, placed himself in an attitude signifying his de- sire to be heard ; and silence, though with difficulty, was obtained. And now when all were once more at- tentive, this warrior proposed to his fellow red men, in seeming to appeal to their reason alone, that the stranger whq was still among them, and whose daughter he doubted not, was in the camp of the Mic- macs, perhaps the wife of his captive, should be put to the proof of his alleged divinity, anfl, if found true, that he should be made the guide of their future con- duct, but if discovered to be an enemy, that he should undergo the fate that the prisoner would have suffered. And now when the captor of the Mic- mac, saw sufficient evidence of the effects of his artful proposal, upon the minds of the warriors, and the indications of more unity in the direction of their ungovern- able passions, he proceeded', in a yet bolder strain, to more determined purpose. " Know the warriors," now demanded he, " that the white stranger, came from, came with, the Micmacs? They do not know it. It is time they were told, that the impostor is but a man of the hated race. He is sent into our camp to de- ceive us, arid lull us into security, such as should favour the oxecut on of the Micmac grand design- th' extermination of the red people. Let us destroy him, and defeat his purpose. Let us offer a wjiito sacrifice, to propitiate the Great Spirit of Evil." At these words of the captor of the Micmac, open revolt took the phiceof what little order the excited passions of tho warriors had left any hopes of establish- ing; and riot and rebellion, which had wanted only a leader and unity of purpose, to do their worst, were now ready to act under the direction of this foremost of the warriors in daring and crime. " And let us perform this act oF justice immediately," now added the captor, w lieu he saw the full eflt'ect of his speeches, " that we may the sooner appease the anger of the Evil Spirit, so long excited against us by tlie neglect of his worship, and by our contempt of his high seer, through wliom he hath so often warned us of the crime we commit, in cherishing the pretended repre- sentative of the patron angel of red nu-'U." At these words, there was a general cry: "To the wigwam of the chief! To the wigsvam of Ottawah ! Let us sacrifice the enemy of red men!" And now the warriors, led by the cnp- tor of the Micmac, rushed from the coun- cil hall, to proceed to the dwelling of their aged sovereign. CHAPTER XXXVIIL "Shall it be? No, by tlie flame of yonJcrglorlo\is heaven!" TROILUS AUD CllERSIDA. The chief and his white guest, having heard of the new cause of alarm, by the messenger of the warrior who had made an unsuccessful attempt to turn the rage of the people against tlio -uthor of the dis- order, were not taken by surprise, when they heard the yells whieh preceded the arrival of the excited multitude. The long revered chief of the tribe and his white guest, now sat upon their mats, with the wife of Ottawah between them; while, some slave attendants, and tlie woman that waited upon Shediclii, sat apart. And as the sounds drew nearer and nearer, the silence which had reigned within, was only broken by a few expres- ,1-: j: I MA nrPAWAfi, TMK T.AHT riiir',1' or I > «lnn« of fj'rfitr from tho wmni'ii, nml tin" calm r(iliiik<< of tUv rhi«!f, to tUv iitl"tiilulil.'* upfiti i.iH wift', HI tlii-y j^ivvn ntSi-ninro to «tn;h cxclftniftlifMH of Hininny, tin lli»>y wi^rn not dhh) to Niir>pn-.<»'i. Thn ffsiffTiBtion of tlin two Rjy^d iii- hRliitnnt* of thi> tviKwnm iw'f'rnrd the Miim<>. Th« chii'f was tho innnt Niibdiicil hy yarn ; liiit their (irinn(>;telieve(l, hftt* iieetHleHtroyen. Dttawnh, too, forennw, iti liifl own death, the extinetion of hin line, nnd the speedy anniliilntion of hin jn'oide; wliile the white nmn eontemplated, >ii iii» dii- Holiition, the terminittion of ull hi^ lonir ehvi'ifihed ho[)e<«, uiirl the fiiihire of all Iii<4 iiieHAiireH for introfliiein^ iiinonjj the Niivn^e inhahiliuilM of tht! i.tlund, tlie re- li^ion of eivilined men. The rehel wRrrior* were now at hand. The wife of Ottawah, ehi»(< to ihf nf^ed frame of the eliief. Iliit no frniiniiie tench-rneMi soothed the sorrowH of the while exile. In the niidnt, of their ^ricf, the chief and hin (^iieHt tire<*erve(t all llieir dignity; and Mat on their niatfl, the ealni expe<;tar>t.fl of their e(|ual fate. Two warriorn entered. Tliev wert- struck with the n|i|ieanniee of the njred inen.of whoMi one it wai now rerlain w«-i devoted to lie Haeriliced to the raj^e of !he people. A moment they hesitated. lint Hoori recovering their rcMolntion, and rememhering: their purpose, they rushed upon the white man; and as they selwd and hnnnd him, tlio piod (Mtawah pre- pared for a similar late. Itiit they laid no hanad forth the deceiver, and hind hitn to the stake, whicli loll)/ ajro was prepared for the Micniac, j'Runt him with oiir triumph, and the falluio of his desi^^ns." And now a nund)er of vniccs joineil the cry, "To the slakfl To the slake!" In the mean time, Oltawah, ri'coverini^ from a stale of helplessnt >m, apprunchini^ inseiisihility, into which he liiid heen thrown hy his snOerin^s iiiion the seizure of his sa<'red Instructor, heheld his he- rcKved cniidition, as he saw Hhediehi and her female attendants now weepinj^ and lamcnlin^ around him. And as soon as he peri;eived his situation he made an effort to rise J and when he had with dif- ficulty attaiiH'd his feet, hy the assistance of hi<« vouthful wife and her attendants, he left riis wifi^wam for the scnne of ont- raj^e, which he .runted his presence might yet arrest and subdue. As Ottawah jssucul from the door of his dwelling, he was Joined hy such few of the warriors as were not stained hv any connection with his rehellioiis chil- dren; and, with their aid he now mixed amontf his |M'ople, a mere spectator of their iictions, and idmosl without attract- ing any tioticc". lie hiid not ulrength enoU)r|i left to make iiiiy efforts to arrest the Hiu-ritice which he now saw iihoiit to bereave hihold thou nrt laltrn in thine own sinnrf whicii thou hoAt laid." " I'rrparc the fir«>!" v/nn then the ki'Iic ral vrji " thn fire of hf-avcn is olmnircdl" And wht'fi tiii-ro W!i"» not n my of tii<> oun vi»il)l(', »i»'Vfnil warriors tiilfd spnicf Hhriihit lifncath tli)- di>vot<>d ( hrixiian, an (lii'V fxrlnimfd: "Of profrnctj-d torfuri' he 14 not worthy. ( 'onmimo liim Jo (ifih»<«t. Ia'I not the Hhii H. ;. 'poti tlic ally -tlif wliitt' ally - of ihii Mi iniu'j<, in the ramp of till! r<"d mm." ■' Itnt, stay — for u moment stay thr* torch I" rri»'d an unfamiliar voiiM'. — [t was that of Hliahdac—" 'I'hcri- is a ray of the (ire of hfav»'(i ttill visililf." And tin- murdiToim hands of the warriors wnri- for a mnmfnt arri'sti'd, 'I'lu-ro wtts, ind(<«'d, a my of ili(< sun yit visihiii; and, aroused liv the well known voire of lh» faithful Sliahdm-, the white man now followed with hi^ dim eye, the HJni^le );iililen rpot whicli had arrested the hrand, an It crossed the vale, until it tmiched the side of the mountain ; wliiri lie seemed to discovnr nomelhinK there in motion, It was likp two warriors descendiiu; the sterile hill, directly in front of the scene of snvaKu oulraxe id' whiidi he was the victiui. A father's holies, rather than the triM' report of lii'i dim eye, rejire- •icnfeil tin- iphjeet to he what, he most desired: and he exclaiuu-d, for the lint tlm«< he Imd spoken since hi* set/ure " 'I'hey couu'l they come!" At the exi lamatiou of the while nmn, every eye was imw directed towards the hdl; and the clearer vision of the red men, InslBntlv distinguished the erert, f.-rm of a conHihmt warrior, descending the ihcli vily which r-onducled directly to the camp, accompanied, as It seemed, hy ii V'i'Ulh or warrior of smaller stature. They could not he eiU'Uiies. Thev cuidd not f»e re«l men. 'I'hey must he .Nlicmin' heralds of [M'ttce. ('MAITKIl XXXIX. " III* utU't ur^w iiiiiiikiii, Aiiii iliff iiriiiKii i< llt'KKii III crRck. ' Kmn f.NAR. TiiKiiic was no feuturi' in the character of the lied Indian warriors, more remark- ahle than that of their attachment to their (■hiitfN, The hone* of their fathers, which mifit savftjfes hold in |Mculiar veneration, were not more sacr-d wiih the red trihe, than the persons of their rnhrs, '.he precis- limits of the allejriance which tho jicMple ov.ed them, were ill-defincrl; l»i;f It was rarely that the chiefs e<;ceedefl the authority which immemorial custiuii had saiicli'tiK d; and, in all rases uf sudden alarm or dtinjjer. their inlluen«'e was the stanrlard around which the warri.>rs nillied. And, when any tfreat enter- prise was determined upon hy a council of warrior-*, the comimmd «.( their chief was the si^rrwii for every iiMivemciit of olfence or defence, or of incursinti (ir re- treat. Kiich v»'cre oriliuarily the relntions he- tween a Ued Indian chief, and his penple; hut the venerahle tittawah, in Ids yuMth. diirinir and cuterprisinj^. whether in hunt iiijf or in war, wm, fn.in his earliest iitre, especially eiid.iired t'l his whole tlihe, wfioso respect and rej^iiril he rclitineil in ludlurcr )earN, hy hi^ love of justice, his moderation when they aMseuihled in council, and his conriH;f< and |irudent movenieiils in war. n_V thc'ie ipialilies alone, in their lender, the existence, indeed, of the red trilieliad hecn miiintained. And mm j^reat were the mutUKJ ohiitjdiiiins of the chief mill hl^ wiirriurn, that nyn', which had now dini- meil the eye of (lllawali, and hereaved his iirm of its force, instead of heiriitiii^ the contempt with winch \pect into llliiil atVeclion, anil rendered ulieilience as de- lil^htful as it was lionourahle, and as 1,'eneral as it was unrestrained. Nnlhin^, iiuleed, hut the deepest schemes of mali- cious envy, he;{o|, iijioii liei, and siip- pnrted hy the train of arttiil rnuids, of which we have seen hi!t the event, could have nnderinined or shaken the respect and attachment which was felt hy the red peoi.le for their a^jed chief; while no fraud, liowever successful with the war- riiiin, was aide to extinguish in the hreasi iif ( titawiih, the parintal tendernes'* whiih he ni'Vcr leaned to feel fiif his lllis((itided mid unhiippy peo|ile. As the warriors stood KW^i'iK "pon the distant ohiects in motion which have heen mentioned at the cli>se nf tin. Ihiii chapter, the mM)|Kised heralds nf peace, disappeared hehliiii an inlerveiiinir hill; anil uhile the people still looliiil with Itlteieie in- terest for the rcappeariince of the ohjeels that had Irainflxed their attentiiui, the sudden cry of the wnmcn hmke iip'ui their ears; and, as they turned inwards the M'viw of ■tarni, ihey hehehl lh«* 118 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OF gestures of grief of their wires, as they rent the air with their piteous lamentations. Those open expressions of sorrow from the women, un(Tor the common feeling which the moment inspired, now attracted all the warriors; and they advanced as one man, towards the scene of distress, where they behold the cold corse, as it seemed, of their beloved chief, stretched before them upon the earth. There worti few, among the warriors present, that were not Ijorn since the good Ottawah commenced his rule over the red tribe. Many oF fiiem remembered the deeds of his nii(ldk\ age; but there were none who iuul not experienced the hr,,j)py effects of his prudent disposition since the depression oi' tlie tribe, or who did not owe him especial gratitude for some beneficent net, proceeding from the disintorestew art! our days. Behold ! the red race is already extinct." But in their grief and confusion, they had omitted to examine, whether the spark of life, had, as it appeared, finiilly departed from its clay luibilation; and. as the Avife of Ottawah, kneeling beside the seeming lifeless body of the chief, wet his face with lier tears, one among the mourners suddenly exclaimed: — " lie still breathes!" It was the voice of him, who, but just before, stood bound and prepared tosulfer the death, which their mistaken zeal, ami jealous hatred had adjudged. And as the white man lilted the dying Ottawah in his arms, the chief turned his head in the direction in which the su])posed heralds had been seen; and presently, one warrior alone, was observed at full speed, descending the last hill, the whole declivitv of w hich was open to the full view ol the camp. The sun in heaven, nt tliis moment, dis- persed the dark clouds wliich had ob- scured his disk, and his diri it rays now fell upon the side of the hill, upon which the eyes of 11 the warriors wore fixed. And, while they stood silent, the dying chief distinctly recogni.sed the erect form of his son; and, collecting all his strength that remained, he exclaimed, "Behold your chief! behold the restorer of the red name!" Then immediately, his head fell upon his breast, and ho expired in the sight of his warriors, and in the arms of his Christian instructor and friend. And now, had the thunder which rolls across the vault of heaven, and echoes from mountain to mountain — had the very elements, in Imman accents, bid disorder cease on earth, no calm could have ex- ceeded the death-like silence which fol- lowed the last words of the red chief. The warriors were struck dumb with awe, the women with the excess of their grief. The corse of their long revered, their beloved chief, lay at their feet. The soul of Ottawah was a shade, now numbered with the spirits of their fathers. 1 1 . succcessor, so lately believed to be the ally of their enemies, was in sight of their camp. The mysterious stranger, just given up to torture, self-liberated, stood befire them. They looked np face of tiie earth. Conliile in the signs from heaven, and ytnir restoration is at hand. Warriors', to whom is your alle- giance due? Who is your chief? Who is it that should restore your ancient name, your lormer glory!" No time could have been more fiivour- able for the accession of the son of Otta- wah to all the rights which his father ha^ enjoyed. The warriors stood in the pre- sence of death in its most awiul or most impressive form. Upon the ground before t)iem, lay tJie perishable appendage of one that but now possessed power united with every attribute that is admirable in the human character. The once erect form in wliich a human spirit walked, from its earliest conceptions of the dis- tinct, individual, and independent being which we severally possess, up to the ac- (luisition of authority and respect above that enjoyod by the common herd of men, was about to mingle with the dust of the reptiles that creep beneath the earth. Self-aeeused, and penitent, the red men stood without a hope, save in the mag- nanimity, and tMe wise conduct, of the successor of him whom these misjruided passions had untimely destroyed. Tluis at the words of the young chief, a general shout of exultation arose; and the warriors cried with one voice, " Alito- niah is f)iir chief! None else is wm'tliy to sit iip(m the mat of Ottawah! Let us meet the enemies of our race! ' Adalie, after the uncertain information she- received from the constant Shahda'e, liad been no longer able to endure the ab- seuee of Ahtoinah; and -she was now seen descending the hill, in company with her faithful attendiiut. The time was equally fav(nirable for the iippearance of the future partner of the red chief, as for the young warrior himself; and as she rijached the bounds of the encampment, all eyes were drawn towards her, and it seemed as if tlie open signs of the welcome and apjirobHtion of the wiirri(U's, were alone restrained by tlie common cause of grief, which jios- sessed their breasts. The maidiMi was dressed in the long white garment which sJie usually wore, girdled at the waist. Hut her neck, wlii<'h, sini'e hi'r sojourn among the Indians, she had (;arefully covered, that as little as possible of her skin might be visible, was now partly exposed. A double necklace of .shells, vhieh she eorji- uionly wore, and her bracelets of the siiuii' uiateriiil, \\(>re missing; and her head-dress, which was usuajly a nuind cap of fur, ornamenled with a phuue of feathers of tlie coloured birds of the Lountry, she had also lost. In the mean time, her iuiir now parted and thrown m 120 OTTAWAII, THE LAST CHIEF OF behind her oars, flowed in long tresses across her neck, in all the beauty which became her youth, and the simplicity of her character. The disorder of the dress of Adalie, and the animation which her features at this moment expressed, accorded with the spirit of the time; and while they aided the mystery which belonged to her cha- racter, they could not but heighten the interest, which admiration of her graceful form when she appeared, never failed to excite. As the maiden drew near, the warriors instinctively fell back on either side, in opening a way for her approach to the presence of their young chief; and as she passed through the files of red men on either hand, a low hum of deep voices — the natural expression of hardly sup- pressed admiration— now proceeded froai evpry quarter. The voluntary gratiUations of the warriors, were toe plain to be mistaken by the young chief, who knew how to turn the incident to the best advantage. Thus, he now advanced to meet the maiden; and when he had embraced her, he placed his left arm around her waist, and stretching forth his right hand, infew words ho thus again addressed his sub- dued people. "Warriors!" now said the youthful chief, in the full confidence that the time had engendered, " behold the betrothed of Ahtomah, the mother of the future chiefs of the tribe, whose territory shall extend from the risinu; to the setting sun, nor be ^ermiiuited by any other limits than the great salt lake, nor cir- cumscribed by any other bounds than the waters v.hich encompass the world as- signed by the Great Spirit for the land of the red tribe. It is the will of the good Spirit: let us not oppose his decrees." At t!H'se words, every eye became yet more i.-ently bcut tipon Adalie. It seemed as if the red men had forgott(!n the colour of their guests, and their an- cient enmity to the white race. And when Ahtomah now lifted his hand, in sign of his willingness to re'' ■"" the con-, gratulations of lus people, the wu.^'riors cried out, as one man : " Welcome Ada- lie 1 Welcome the mother of a line of chiefs, destined to recover the lost glory of the red tribe!" Such were now the happy relations whicii seenu'tl al)oi\t to be estubiished between the s\ieeessor of Ottiiwuh mid his people. But amidst this triuiiipli of the better feelings of tlin red men over their misguided passions, there existed, unobserved, exception to the prevalenci? of the general exultation. At the very first symptom, indeed, of the return of the warriors to a sense of their proper duty, the seer Uttcrmoot had gathered his myrmidons around him, and slunk secretly away, to a distance from which he might, unperceived, observe all that passed, and be ready to profit by any change that should seem to favour his future fortunes. It was now the first act of Ahtomah, to give directions for the performance of the funeral solemnities of his father. And that this last office of the living towards the dead might not want any of ceremo- nial rites of interment, especially due to a chief so beloved, messengers were sent to invite the lesser chiefs of the more northern villages of their tribe, every one to Attend, accoiiipanicd by some of his principal warriors. In the mean time the body of Ottawah was carried to their temporary council' house; and being stripped of its orna- ments, was wrapped in a simple deer- skin, and laid upon a bed of such autum- nal wild flowers as the watered valleys of this sterile region produced. Ahtomah and his white guests, and Shahdac now retired to the pnncipal wigwam, where, worn out by fatigue and grief together, all, save the young chief himself, sought the natural relief of for- getfulness, and were soon buried in sleep. Neither the white man nor Shahdac, both of whose minds had been engrossed by the all-exciting object of the day's interest, had fully informed the young warrior of the character and extent of the disturbances which had taken place among the people during his absence, and which they hoped, indtod, were already completely subdued by the pre- sence of the heir of Ottawah. The white man in his imagined secu- rity, and unacquainted with the retreat of the seer, and his discontented compa- nions, had, in truth, been desirous ratr r to underrate the importance of tlie rebel- lion, which had been principally exhibited in the insults that were ottered to, and the wrongs practised upon himself, than too iiastily to excite the indignation of the young chief. Hut Ahtomah, himself, better ac- (imiiiited with the disposition of tiie seer than the aged wliite man, required not till' history of whatluid passed, to foresee the riige of tlie evil eounsellor of his people, and the difliciiUies which the envy and malice of the seer must sooner prevalence t the very i return of leir proper I gathered and slunk nee from observe all profit by to favour Ahtomah, ormanco of ather. And [ig towards of ceremo- illy due to i were sent the more , every one jmc of his )f Ottawah •y council its orna- mple deer- ich autum- d valleys of fuests, and J pnncipal fatigue and y^oung chief ?lief of for- buried in )r Shahdac, 1 engrossed ' the day's the young 1 extent of taken place is absence, dtc>d, were by the pre- 2;ined secu- tho retreat ited compa- rous ratp r if the rebel- ly exhibited •ed to, and imself, than ignation of bettor ac- of the seer equired not 1, to foresee ilior of his wliich the nust sooner THE HED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 121 or Inter occasion. The young warrior know, that nothing wouhl reconcile this bold instigator of mischief, to the mar- riage of the chief of the red tribe with the daughter of the propagator of the now opinions concerning the worship of the Great Spirit, which had already found entrance in tlie breasts of many of the warriors ; and lie knew, too, the strong prejudice of colour, which, notwith- standing the present sudden demonstra- tions, nAust still exist among his people. _ This latter obstacle, indeed, proceiMlod froni|af'o(>litig, which Inul so lately Ixu'iicd even in his own bosom; and had only been subdued by a passion, which, when it will, reigns absolute above every other, and often converts the very obstacles which it encounters, into the; means of fulfilling its own ends, aiul accomplishing its own enjoyments. And now givin;;' himself up to reflections the most natural in'so groat difficulty, his eyes, as he lay on his couch, wore closed in vain. ii '-; if' 'i: 122 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OP CHAPTER" XL. "lie Ihou a spirit of health, or goblin cUmn'd, Be tliy intents wicked or charitable. Thou com'st in such a questioaable tlMpa, That I will speak to tlice." Abodt mid-night, when all the warriors were buried in sleep, Ahtomah arose from his uneasy bed; and when he obs«rv«4 tliat the night was -clear and the plftia free from mist, h© left his wigwam, to court the solitude of the desolate wa^lM about the vicinity of the encampiiaeot. The condition of the elements was, w«Il suited to soothe the disturbed ^trllSs of the sensitire Indian. The cool itovtlMV& brece, after touching the mouattMSM is its pnss«ge from the clearer quMKk«r of hcavv.n, gently swept th« pituat BAt • fleeting cloud obscured a n^ of ths myriad lights whiclk 8ptkB^Ie<} t^ wuie arch of heaven:, and the aiglU w«e alto- gethei such as seither 8«va^« iK>r civUtsed man can behokt, without softviag m spirit from this low^r worlti, to soiae hapfikr abode beyond tile hills,, or the clouas* ur the illuminate^ firmasaea.1, which the f his wQirldly cares; aud he thus gave )ltter«UB0» to his better thoughts. "Ye constaat lights," mow exclaimed the rapt youth„as he cast hiij^yes towards heaven, "and y« ftres which burn in the 4wrk expanse ; i«ha( kuieed are ye ! And 4o jre look oa other laads, a» on the country of T^ otftu! Are ye the lamps th«l encircle thi» Great i^j^it's throne? or the rajf of hi» glojry 1 Or, are ye, iaiAe«!ia9»yl9 tb» lMlV(«B»«hiQK th^ stranger ftseMAs r«d nm M«wi««s t« those who 4& vfe»red to r«fWNi him with inteat look. The youB|r wwrvtw waa ov«scoi«« by his superstitious (Mfom, aad lemaiB >d trans- fixed to IdM 9^t OB which he ^tojd. Ti« fowft apfi^Mtd in feminine attire, or tn that of a hojr before assuming the tunic of an Indian warrior. Some time they stood, the mortal and the seeming etherial Being, each motionless and intent as the other, until the young chief, reco- vering the power of speech, of which his superstitious fears had bereaved him, now with courage above his race, thus ad- dressed the doubtful object before his eyes, whether it were real, or whether it were the unsubstantial creation of his own heated brain. " Aerial Being," said he, " art thou a messenger sent by the Great Spirit, to accomplish the promises which the last chief and father of his people, from the season when his youth first blossomed. THE RED INDIANS OP NEWFOUNDLAND. 123 until the decay of his sapless age, never ceased beseeching him whom thcashouldst serve, to fulfil? Or, art thoi a Spirit armed with the tb. 'ors of the bad angel, and come to proclaim he destruction of the worshippers of the good Spi.'it? What is thy purpose? Speak! The chief of red men is addressed to hear." The last words of the young warrior, reverberated in distinct accents, from the wood on the opposite side of the stream ; and the still air, bore bade ttgeiia the sounds, which returned again and again, uninterrupted by any conWary vibration of the conducting element, nntii they died imperceptibly away. With the cessation of the last faint reecho of the Indian's voice, even the current seemed to have ceased to flow : the gentle breeze no longer wafted the murmuring sounds of tJie dis- tant torrent; and silence the mo^t pro- found, now reigned absolute, as if nature recognised the presence of some Being, whose will was superior to her laws. As the minntes passed, Ahtomah i*- called to his memory, the impression made upon his mind by the white man's dis- courses, which baa often turned upon the power of the supposed inhabitants of the imseen world; and summoning all the courage with which time and 'his reflec- tions armed him, he approached the very brink of the stream : ana he now perceived, that the object of his fear, whicn had be- fore seemed to ■stand upon the water, rested on firm footing npon the opposite shore. The young "warrior conthmed still to gaze upon the aerial form, with the snme intent intere^, mingled with the dlded his arms, as men are wont to do, when disposed to spurn the very suspicion from their minds, that fear could obtrude, where they believe true courage to prevail. Then, in this attitude, he paced the boach, with his eyes sometimes turned towards the grove where the spirit 'had seemed to disappear, and sometimrs sweeping the surface of the water, out of which he now firmly believed the at»rialform had arisen. But nothing appeared, save the natural objects to a short distance around; and nothing was distinctly heard, save the gentle murmur of the evcr'flowing stream. Now and then, indoed, the senses ^ the young warrior, were confounded, t • he seemed to hoar his own name, an,i thalt of Adallie, pronounced, as it appeared , to him, accompanied with human sighs. And sometimes the change in the position of a tree or a rook, as he walked upon the shore, produced to his wrought imagina- tion, a living human form. But these uncertain peroeptitms, served only to con- vince him, that tlie reality would no sooner appoar, than his courage would be swallowed, up hi his former fears. In these thoughts did Ahtfmiah pass the remainder of the night, without quit- ting the place of the vision, or ovperiencing any fresh assurance of its reality. But now, as the young cliiof oontinuefl to look stoftdfastlv upon the ■watei", the Tcffleotifm of the first grey streaks of the morning's light became apparent; arid the welconte ray, as it dispelled the 1 ■ a* 124 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OP unreal visions that had perplexed his wrought fancy, at the same time reminded him of the necessity of his return to the camp, lest absence, or his unsettled state of mind should become a subject of cu- riosity or speculation to the enemies of his peaceful reign, and be hereafter turned to his disadvantage, through their influence with his people. As the youthful chief assured himself of the reality of the forerunner of day, he once more cast his eyes towards the grove; but there was nothing visible, save the degrees of shade which the day- light began to distinguish. It was no time to confound the un- certain visions of the departed darkness with the sensible objects which the day {>resented. And the devout youth now ell upon his knees, and offered up his brief morning oraison to the Great Spirit; and then throwing himself once more into the stream, he swam towards the opposite shore. As soon as Ahtomah again landed, he hastened towards the camp; and he soon passed theouterwigwams, and now entered that which he had left, without being per- ceived by any wakeful warrior, if any, like himself, might chance to have been courting the cool breezes from the moun- tains, or indulging the raptures, which, man is no where so rude ns to want, be- fore the glorious show of an autumnal night, or the gorgeous spectacle of the rising or the setting sun. When the youth entered his own wig- wam, he found nil still as when he left it. Not one of its habitants had shaken off slumber, or perceived the light. And as it was not yet full day, he put off his wet clothes, attired himself in such as he was accustomed to wear bv day, and laying himself down upon his bediof fresh leaves, now fell into a sound sleep. Grief seemed to have so overwhelmed the senses of the warriors on the preced- ing day, that it was not until tlie last faint effort of a few western stars, to share in the praises of the Creator, which the light above all his works proclaims, were overcome by the brightness of the sun's full beams, that anv sound, save that of a few chirping yellow-birds, was to be heard. Nor was there any warrior to be seen, offering up at the door of his wigwam, his accustomed morning adora- tion, at the first indication of the return of the visible representative of that Eternal Spirit, whom his unaffected piety, ov his modest estimate of his own importance, teaches him to believe to be as far beyond the reach of his simple petitions, as the ' divine nature is above every image, of which the powers of his mind enable him to entertain any distinct idea. ■ . - ., CHAPTER XLI. •' Heaven rain grnco On that wlilch breeds between them.'' TfijirKST. The father of Adalie and Shahdoc, hiul long arisen from their beds, and were seated without the curtains that hung across the entrance of the wigwam, when Ahtomah, after his short, but refreshing repose, now opened his eyes to the full light of day. The young warrior's first recollection of the vision of the past night, was like the impression which remains upon the mind after any troubled dream; and he was about to bid the deceptive images flee from him, as we sometimes do when we awake after sound, but not undisturbed slumber, and find the me- mory of our nocturnal fancies too pain- ful to be patiently endured, and too strong to be thrown aside without a more thon common effort. But as he rose upon his knees, in which position an Indian will frequently remain for many minutes after awaking from sleep, he oiscovered such of his wet clothes as he had not cast off when he crossed the stream, and had exchanged for those in which he laid himself down when he re- turned: and now all the occurrences of the past night, biurst at once upon his clearer recollection; and a settled gloom, which might hardly be mistaken for the effects of the more gentle passion of filial sorrow, now fixed its visible image upon his intelligent brow. In the mean time, Adalie, who had slept behind a curtain of skins, which separated a portion of the wigwam from the rest, for her accommodation, l;ad awakened, and was arisen; and as she entered the common apartment, which was that in which Ahtomah had lain, she beheld the troubled countenance of the young warrior, who was still in the act of contemplation upon his knees. It was unusual to find a warrior upon his couch after the earliest dawn of day ; and the maiden stood, overcome witii the mingled feelings of anxiety and as- tonishment, with which the troublf ' ^ok of Ahtomah, and the late hour at v lich she found him upon his couch, had im- pressed her. But the youth, as he per- ceived her, at once sprang upon his feet, and without a mark of any remaining care, advanced towards her: and they V by an 1 as- at . lich , had im- s he per- fect, n his remaining and they THE RED INDIANS OP NEWFOUNDLAND. 125 embraced, with such warmth as their mutual feelings inspired, and their chaste thoughts did not forbid. The youthful pair, in a brief phrase or two, row exchanged the morning greetings of every people in all lands, indicative of concern for each other's bodily health ortranquillity of mind; and, when these samtations were over, Adalie thus addressed herself to the Indian. " Noble Ahtomah," said the white maiden, " thou dost gi'ievo for the loss of the good Ottawah. But all thou suiferest is not grief. What is it that sits so heavily on thy mind? The external signs which indicate what passes within what my father has called the sacred council-house of human thought, but now, spoke not the truth, if Ahtomah struggles not against some more un- (luict passion than that of filial sorrow. AVhat care has the past night engen- dered ? What vision presented itself to the apt doubts of the chief of red men? Or was Ahtomah oppressed by the mere memory of some perplexed dream?" With these words, the gentle Adalie placed her cool hand upon the burning foi'ehead of the youth; and Ahtomah besought her to pardon and forget the weakness which his unquiet slumbers had engendered : and, as the impassioned Indian placed his arm around the waist of the maiden, in whom new beauties with every moment seemed to appear, Adalie returned his more fervent ex- pression of fondness, by the natural indications of feminine tenderness, and redoubled affection. The eyes of the maiden, were now cast upon the ground; and as the Indian contrasted the placid confidence which her features expressed, with the contrary feelings that contended for empire within his own bosom, he stood transfixed with admiration of that expressive copy of the pure spirit that animated the delicate form which his arms encompassed. Adalie essayed to speak ; but her lips refused to give her thoughts utterance: the consciousness of her position crim- soned her cheek, and her eyes continued fixed upon the ground. It was an inter- change of spirit, such as had the mali- cious seer beheld, his envy must have been subdued bv extorted admiration, and his malice have been changed into shame. " Beloved Adalie," then said Ahtomah, as he continued to regard the white maiden, *' be thus when the eyes of the red people behold thee, and when thy lips pronounce the first accents of a war- rior's wife, and the enemies of the white race shall scarce recognise thy descent. Thou wast not wont, Adalie, to pale the sun with the redness of thy skin. It is the symbol of future events — the sign by which the Gniat Spirit indicates the law- ful mingling of the blood of thy race and of mine. Red men will bow before the Great Spirit's decrees." Then, as the young warrior, with the string of his bow with which he wus armed, chanced to turn the upper part of the robe of the maiden, he exposed the fore part of her neck, which was usually covered. " But in truth Adalie," then said the youth, as he beheld the extent to which the colour that tinged her cheek liad now spread, " in truth, thou art whclly red; and although I love thee not the more, I would that my warriors saw thw now. There is not a white speck leftj not enough to qualify the too full rich- ness of thy new skin. But the maiden quickly arranged her disordered dress : and as the young chief now bound about her throat a new string of shells, such as usually supported the covering that concealed her neck, ho added triumphantly, " neither is there a blue vein, Adalie, visible under thy red skin. Thou art, indeed, destined to be the mother of a lino of chiefs." " Kind Ahtomah," then said the maiden, " if my late pale skin is already become so like that of thy people, hereafter, when the bride of the red chief shall stand before the warriors, the colour of the deep red sun, when he sinks behind the mists above the western mountains, will not more closely resemble that of thy race than my skin will then resemble thine." But the appearance of the father of Adalie, who now entered with Shahdac, interrupted their further discourse. The countenance of the white man, as he greeted his daughter and the young chief, was solemn and thoughtful, and expressive of calm resignation rather than deep grief. But if that of the faithful Shahdac was more indicative of confi- dence than dejection, it was the intelligi- ble index to the flattering hopes which he cherished of the approaching fulfil- ment of the expectations that were up- permost in his mind — the quiet succession of Ahtomah, his lawful chief, to the au- thority of his fathers, and the union of the young warrior with the white maiden, whose divine origin, he, at least, had never doubted. One of these great ob- jects, seemed, indeed, as if it were already accomplished, and the other, did not :i 126 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OF appear beyond tbe bounds of probable early fulfilment. "rtie wife of the dep&fled chief was not in the wigwam. The bereaved Shedichi and her attendants, who completed the circle of the usual inhabitants of the chiefs dwelling, now watched the corse of the good chief, and at intervals chanted the song of lamentation by which they were accustomed to mourn the departed wartiors of distinction, or the chiefs of the tribe. The present inhabitants of the wigwam ate their morning's meal in silence; and as soon as they had finished their light repast, the young chief sent forth the constant Shahdac, to command the guard W'ho had watched aroundthe inner bounds of the camp during the night, to summon the warriors to assemble in front of his wigwam by the time that the sun should attain his meridian height. The ready messenger now obeyed the commands of Ahtomah; and, before mid-day, the whole of the warriors of the camp were in attendance upon their chief on the appointed spot before his present dwelling. When Ahtomah was informed of the presence of the warriors, he took his wliite guests by the hand; and as Shah- dac, and an aged attendant upon the late chief, drew aside the curtam of skins which hung at the entrance of the wig- wam, the youth, with a confident air and dignified step, marched directly to the i.ont of his people. The relations between the young chief and his people, might be already some- what changed since the interview of the previous -day. Ahtomah's reception, as well as that of Adalie, when the youth presented her to the warriors, upon her arrival in the camp, it could not uc doubted, proceeded from the impulse of a moment of remorse over the corse of the departed chief, aided and strengthened by the sin- cere jov -hich they felt at the return of the successor of Ottawah, whom they had been seduced to believe was among the onemies of their race. Besides, upon this occasion, the chief met his warriors, with a knowledge of what had past during bis absence, which he could not befcwe have possessed; and the warriors met thear chief, uncOTtain of the effects upon "his mind, of disclosures of which they Itnew he jfnust by this time be in pos- session. What might be the condition of the minds of the waariors, in this altered and uncertain state of their relations, by the late events, to their chief? Were they so corrupted, as to fear less the consequgnces of the anger of the successor of Ottawah than the results of refusing to persevere in the evil course that had been marked out by the envious seer? Would truth, and a just sense of their solid interests prevail? or, would malice, overcome their better feelings, and destroy all the fond hopes of the promoters of goq^ All Was un- certain. It was a moment of deiep suspense, iBut the young chief now stood face to face with his warriors, in all the confi- dence and security with which his right and his natural intelligence inspired him : and so general was the respect, even to reverence, which his presence and his ap- pearance impressed, that had there been any opponents to his will among the warriors, their evil machinations would have been confounded, and they must have stood abashed, or fled from the pre- sence of their lawful chief. The young warrior was not long silent. The signs of approbation and submission to his authority, which he distinctly per- ceived, in the resigned or penitent coun- tenances of his warriors, at ome assured him that the time had been weh chosen for his formal appearance 5n company with his white guests, and for such reve- lation as he might deem it proper to make concerning them. He knew, too, that not a moment ought to be lost in employing the warriors in such occupa- tions as should, at oi.ce, engage their in- terests, and agree with the events of the time and the actual condition of his people. Thus, the yonng chief Was now addressed to take advantage of the favour- able moment; and, quitting the hands of his white guests, he stepped a few paces forward and thus spoke. — "Warriors of the red tribe," said he, "as you would blot from the mind of your chief, the memory of t^c late events, kbe origin of which be knows too well, to whom to attribute — but the conspnuiors are not among you — attend to his words. He now makes known his will; and he is governed by councils above those that have mere custom for their authority, and human wisdom for their guide. When ye obey j'our chief, ye obey, indeed, the guardian angel of the red peo];if, the freat representative of the good Spirit, 'he time of action, then, is at hand." Ahtomah here paused for an instant, then proceeded. " But, oh warriors !" said he, in now changing his manner with the substance of his address, " the sacred rites of the dead remain yet unperformed. The me- THE RED INDIANS OP NEWFOUNDLAND. 127 in company mory of your last beloved chief lias not received the sepulchral tribute which is its due. "The corse of the departed chief of red tnen is without a tomb. Your fathers lie within the Micmac bounds. Wo shall yet gather their sacred bones, though the ground has been polluted by the companions of the Evil Spirit. Your fathers' shades even now cannot rest in their eternal dwelling. Their sepulchres have been defiled. Yet, but a brief time, and their spirits shall rejoice in our suc- cess. A new tomb will receive their ashes. Let us then hasten to open the sepulchre already discovered, and ap- pointed for the future chiefs of red men. The Great Spirit will sanctify it. Let the ashes of the good Ottawah be the first of those of the red chiefs to lie hereafter beneath the shelter of these hills, where, year after year, the warriors shall come to visit the s&cred depositt)ry of his re- mains. The spirit of the great Ottawah will follow the chase with his departed people, in the happy hunting grounds of the world of shades." And now the warriors, by their marked silence, signified their common assent to the proposition of the young chief, who, without any other form than that of waving his hand, in sign of his having nothing more to impart, turned to his white guests, and in leading them in the manner which he had done when he pre- sented himself before his people, he re- tired, to reenter the wigwam which he occupied. As Ahtomah disappeared, all the war- riors dispersed; and every man sought his own wigwam, impressed with the propriety or necessity of universal accord, and tacit ob .idience to the commands of their capa- ble chief. The seer of the bad angel, indeed, with his conspiring crew was not among them; and none sought to discover hi.^ retreat, or took the pains to trace the furtiier course of his malicious designs. , .. CHAPTER XLIL " There is a joy in grief, when peace dwelli in 'fhe breast of the gad." OSSIAN. After the successor of Ottawah and his white guests had seated themselves in the wigwam of the chief, the young warrior was the first that spoke. " My second father," now said Ahtomah, " we must hasten to entomb the good chief. He has left us to join with the shades of his people. But his spirit still wanders through tho solitary vales, and over the bleakest hllla, unable to $par ^bove th® mists, which divide the world of happy spirits from the country of their former sojourn. Had the Christian's idea?, concerning the condition of those who have past the great gulf which separates the preseut from the future state, been in all things more dissimilar from those of the Indian than they really were, it was not now the moment to comment on the pious confi- dence of the son concerning his father's reunion with the departed spirits of hia tribe, nor upon the supposed impediment to the full enjoyments of the just, should Jny cause obstruct the performance of the ccustomed rites. The system of the white man, was, in the Indian's fancy, yet no more than the faint outline of a beautiful theory, which had made, indeed, sufficient impression to fill the vacant chambers of the imagina- tion with new images during intervals of action, but took no hold of the mind, when opposed to the deeper-seated feel- ings which Ahtomah possessed in common with all the children of the lamented chief. It was enough, that their minds were equally subdued to the necessity of the time. The confidence of the white man, in the beneficence of the superintending power, by whom he knew none were for- fotten, and to whom nothing was un- nown, had rendered him calm and re- signed. In the mean time, the Indian's in- dependent opinions, which were found un- shaken by any of the new ideas which he had imbibed in his communications with the white man, were at least sufficiently powerful, when mingled with the calmer passions which now filled the breast of Ahtomah, to beget a placid and tranquil state of mind, little differing from that which the white man himself possessed. The mind too of Adalie, might be considered but the reflex of that of her aged parent, from whom every idea which she entertained proceeded, and was rather the stronger impressed, than in any degree shaken, by her intercourse with the red men. This then being the condition of minds of the young chief and his white guests, the father of Adalie discoursed with his children till a late hour, when all the party retired to their several couches for the night. Upon the next morning, when the inha- bitants of the chiefs wigwam arose from their tranquil sleep, the first act of Ahto- mah, was to issue especial orders con- cerning the necessary preparations for 128 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIKF OF the funeral ceremonies by which it was intended to solemnize the interment of the departed chief. The people now assembled in groups about the camp, and every warrior was speedily engaged in some work that was intended to add to the solemnity of the ceremonies, or, in extracting certain her- baceous juices which were required for the preservation of the body of the lamented Ottawah. A large party, in one direction, were employed in con- structing a rude frame, intended to bear the body of the deceased chief to the tomb. Another group, at some distance apart, were occupied in dressing rinds of birch bark, which were intended for bind- ing around the body, and, another, in preparing the decoctions for anointing or embalming the sacred remains: and none seemed to regard any other object than that which engaged their hands and appeared to engross all their thouglits. Besides the groups engaged in the camp, a select party were occupied in preparing an obscure ca^■e beneath the highest of the hills upon the north of the camp, which had been fixed upon to be the receptacle of the ashes of Ottawah, and the future tomb of their departed chiefs. Many women were gathered within and around the wigwam where the body of their chief now lay; and these were, for tlie most part, engaged in preparing their mourning attire for tlie melancholy o<;casion. As the young chief now overlooked the busy, yet peaceful scene, which the camp presented, his attention was attracted by the appearance of a boy, whom he observed to pass backwards and forwards from one group of the warriors to another, appa- rently occupied in gratifying his curiosity concerning the labours in which the par- ties were severally engaged, or in listening to such .remarks as might be made by them concerning their several occupa- tions. To ordinary observation, there was little in the lad's appearance to excite attention. It might be, that some singu- larity in the air or step of the stranger, first attracted the observation of Ahtomah. But as the young chief continued to regard the object of his interest, it seemed to him, that the youth, by his eccentric and constant movements, and by the short time that he remained in any one of the groups, was endeavouring to elude the inquisitorial trial which would be the certain consequence of his remaining long unoccupied in the midst of tlie same group. As the seeming inquisitive boy con- tinued to pass backwards and forwards he appeared to take no note of anything to the right or the left, and yet to con- template with intent interest every move- ment that belonged to the apparent object of his inquiries. In the mean time, the curiosity of the young chief was excited to the utmost. Twice he crossed the path of the myste- rious stranger ; but the manner in which the stripling avoided him, which might be accidental or designed, with the total disregard which he seemed to pay to others who chanced to approach him, or his unconsciousness of the observation, as it seemed, of any one, so ci.nfuunded Ahtomali, that he hesitated directly lo confront him. The boy seemed to continue his silent investigations; and every time ho ap- peared alone, he became a still stronger and stronger object of interest to the only eye which he had attracted, of all the warriors present. At length, the young chief determined upon meeting him face to face, and ad- dressing him; and ho placed himself, ac- cordingly, immediately in the path of the bov. The lad now approached liim with his eyes fixed upon the ground. But when he came within a short distance of Ahto- mah, he raised his head, and seemed, at first, disconcerted at finding any one di- rectly ir. h's path ; but when he had gazed, for a moine nt, with unmoved countenance, upon the young warrior, he turned a little aside ; and with scarcely yet the appear- ance of any design to avoid the younj,^ chief, he proceeded towards the nearest ";roup of the warriors, and was, presently, , .j. .n confounded with the busy throng. Whatever were the impressions of Ahtomah concerning this mysterious being, his imagination seemed now wrought upon to the utmost; and he stood transfixed to the spot upon which he had placed himself to encounter the boy, un- conscious of anything present or passing around him, until he was recalled to him- self, by the voice of Adalie. " Nrble chief of red men," said the maiden, as she placed her tender hand upon the shoulder of Ahtomah, " do not let grief for the dead oppose thy duty to the living. Remember the precepts of my father, and throw aside this excess of sorrow. . But yesterday, and thou wouid'st thyself have condemned, what to day thy actions approve. The chief of the red tribe scarce knows his betrothed bride." Ahtomah, for a moment, looked THE RKD IXDIANS OP NEWFOUNDLAND. l-'l intently upon Adalio; then, pvoseiitly, seeming to recollect himself, before the maiden had time to resume her soothinj^ words, he suddenly turned nc^ain towards the direction in which the boy had seemed to pass, and after a moment's silence, ex- claimed in a suppressed accent: — " Two arrows are not more like!" "Like what, Ahtomah?" then said Adalie. The young chief now turned to Adalie, and regarding her with fixed look, re- plied — 17 "Than that boy and the vision." '■ What vision?' What boy?" then said the maiden, " The same, Adalie," answered Ahto- mah, " that but now passed by me. 'Tis a spirit, and this not the first time it has appeared. But whether it forewarn us of evil, or portend good, the Great Spirit conceals from our knowledge." " If it be a spirit which thou hast seen," said Adalie, "it has appeared and done nothing; its errand is, therefore, useless, unless it appear again." yi •8 ,;■' I l€^ MO oTTAWAn. TrfK r-A«T rriiKror " TIm' (Jruiil Spirit forbid,'' naid the yoiilli. " lint ('iiiiif, Aiitiiiniili,'' coiitiiiupd \i\ti- \n>, •' il is lull till' im|ii* llu'ir cliii'i' ill his wt'itUcr iiKuniMits. Snr- riiw hiilli set Inn ln'itvily lit th«* ht'iirt of Aliiiiiiiiih, III- liM H'litdd not Vh* thus di>- prcsscd liy n (iroam." " Ami Mitwotit ihoii not," Huifort» in<«?" " I Hnw no boy," 8iiid Adalip; " it in fht> disoi'ilxrcd bruin of Ahlonmh thi«l diith piiinh'd somt> iinroni olM«rt lu hin mind. 'I'lio HciHt'n of th« (•hi*-* ftro c»nft>iin«l«Kl. Wlu'ii (ln» ish*** of IHtuwiih i»r«» nt rw«t, llii> «'hi»'f of rwd m^n will tovovtr hin woiiii'd lirmiNMit." 'i'lic yntinf( wiirrHtr. afW ■ t¥m niinut»>i«, Mci'tnixf (u regain bM pnmptftuf mind; itiid h« now txiiibitMl M aorh cheerful ufn% M b»««n>« lh« wtlHnniljr of tho liiiini; ftnd, with Adfeli*, h» sprat th» re- iiiuUmW ik llw dfejr, ta MicfNiniK*nK the /.«iil of Um warrhWt. mkI hi biHp rit('!i to (• mM to rhii r«rniiins ol iho t\r>- |mil(Ml chit'?, willioiit b^ing conscionH of Kiiy return of | hn upplirition whtcklie hud Neeii. In tho ev«Bin|t <'very ihln^ #ii H^ty. I'lie wurriorit. too, «lio Inul been nr(!w|^« plnlti. t HAI'TKU XUtT " I'iKiii ■ikIi KHrrllli't'it, my CorilnllD, 'I'liii llciitii tliaiiiai'ivri lliriiw liii<*ii»>." KiNII t.RAR. "Kiioii liml llioii tot iMiilvlnnl Iliil lliiili rlicul lllo< llio bi>iiiii tif llii' I'.ii't, luiioiiu tliti aiilrliii >>r ihjf fili'iiiln, wlinro llii'y tU In tlirlr nloriiiy liiill", Ihn ('lminliii I" (IMUN. nKitiiiK Iho diiwii of the third dny, nfler the di'iilh of OltHwnh. the whole of the |nirly of the lied IndiiiiiH, who were the peenllnr ehildrinof their ehiel', wi lute Inlher of IiIm people, for tht< imfor«> the close of the Any, they •rrivod Wnonlh tho precipitous i- Us, which formed tho Iiiimc uf tin- niouniniti, u|)on th« northern side of tlio pliiiii of the encnropmont. Tho more kiixtty pflorts <>{' nnlnn-, hiul h»»ro lK>«>n nnusuMlly snoeessfiil, ill the pro- duction of i«uoh vp|[;«>tntion n* relievcti ihf f^'neriU rn|t;)!ed un no« \i*>u> lriiimph«r eviry tinliirnt ohMtaeltf of thf climato, to llic more viKoroiK ifrowth ofth«ir kind, nnd overj)owor«| nml rni!»«Hl their frosh ifrccn heatis uIhivo tho duiky firn, with which they w()ro inlormixoti and cliii«l(>ro!« which iniervcncd M>twi»on those rnre examples of fecnndiiy, were oovore<| with the hardy j^ronnd sjiruee, and sk Iho winicr bhi'tii fir«>m th* Kiountwim* p««tftv«r wiih- ont withering a hmt. Under covvr nf on* of the rfenaer and Mkir* tn.xuriiin| nf theiie groveii, at ilie lm*o of the roekji, w ^ the natural oa\ crn, which th« r< ni)f»m^i«lt. Tho onlmnro to its obscun cliamben waa «i, ' iniiiitiliiiii, pliiii) lit' till' iintiin-, Iniil I, in llii> iii'ii- ri'licvfd till' >hnriu't«'r of il by II cnn- th«' hli'iik ui choriHlii'it wt-ttajr ftiiii, tlovi»r t'vcrv mtp. to till' r kiiui, mill fn'sh ifri I'll with wliicli •liwtcn'd ill h iiit««rviiii il iif riK'tiiiility, •i\y frrniiMil gllirr ^Jlii'li I th<> wintrr •t ot«r witli- ' di(»n«pr mill tiviMi, nl tilt' lnt»\ «H»MMii, [iw nlK)iii t I II its dIisi'Iht IlifU t'lllsllTs 111(1 Hpnict"., llO noil lliilt in IWIVi''« nl I npon sti'iis, ln< rock rn hml lirrn •nionlinii'iit IMlcirllt tlM- I'Clcd tl> t'N- ilri'iiily tiH'ii- ii« iil|in>, pi'ii- ri' it I'nr till' III' luti> ^;iii>il Ml tliiit linii ny vHiiltN of n rod chiffn V nidod their I itiirpon* til II rN< iihimI. I niirl)>nt \nt- hvM uncri'd IM'rrtMity lliNt <«l'or« whirh, lilt InctirrinK lirit 1 unit thi< lit) litiio had ■fill. Jir.ll i.vniANH OK NinVKOI NDi.^xn. Ill I nrriviKl, llint it iKH-dini' thi' duty <>r lln' ri>d tiu'it to convort it to llii> iiso to wliich il >V!ts uliiiiil to l)i> itii]>!i('d, nr, lhi>y ai'i'oiii- iiiodiili'd tln> iirn|ili<'f_v III till' iiiH'o'isiiiiU'i coiidilion urtnc irilic. and tlic citvcrii W!is liii'itily |iri'i>iin'd fur tin' |iiir|ii)S(> In which il wuji to hi> fur thi' fiitiiri' ujiprnprijitivt. As the iii){lit, whoii lh(>n>d null iirriu'd, WHS too iii'iir nl hmid touthnit "f llii'cnin pli'limi of the •ilisciiiiii's III' |li(> ilii|i:iri(>d (•hi«>r, till' hiiT WHS pliiccd \i\ the wnrriors, bi'iii'itlli thi' shi'ltt'r of Noiiii' s|>riit'«'s hv tho ('iitriim-i> of iho jj;rii\i'; mid tlio whofi- III lht> piirly now distrilnili'd thcinsi'lvos III short distiint'cs umund, itnd stit, nr n'- cliiu'd Itnd Kli'pt, ill i;roiips liy ilu'ir si'M'rul fill's, ill iiiiKiously «'xp«'iliiiy; ihf rt'lmii of the diiy, fur lin' lu'coiupiishincnt n' lliiir htsi tiu'liiiichid}' oflU'ti for thv hi- ini'iilod Oltiiwiili. Notliiiifr distiirlii'il till' rt'iMisc uf the wiirriors during the iiiirlil : and, with the lirAl n'th'.x of Ihn KurlicHl lif^lil in thi' I'usi, from till' silvery mist* which liiintr iitcrimlly iipun the siiiiiinils of the ii|Mii>- sile hills, the IllDiirnerM Were nil usseMllileil upon the Hitirls of the ;truse, mMiiliiif; Inil the itsHiifniU'e, tlint till' tijLjht which Hrureidy yet oiiuhled them tn 'listiii);iiish one tinolher, was that of the kuii, that llu'V ini((hl otVer nii tlieir iiioriiii)); adorali'iiis to llii< (treat Spirit, liefore ihey pmceeih'il to I'liinplete the appointed ecreinotiic'i. The frame of tlie hier upon which the I'orse of Ottawah rep'sed, was formed of till' enduring; cedar, which is ot'len routed lip liy till' iiioiiiiiain lempests, und hnrteil into the hikes and rivers, and is at all times found upon the lianks of Ihe MlreaiiiM wliirh nieanth'r tliroit)>'li the Hterile plains and the \iilleys nf this rujim'd land. The Murecj reinaiiis were I'inliialmed with ii compound of the sap and juices esinioled from the unlive lierhs, mid were wrapt in many folds of hirch rind cut iiil" nurniw strips, n\cr which were placed hro:»ilcr wranpin^!■s nf the same material, w Inch were nliimately rotered with prcpiin d clay. . As the lij{hl fairly hroKe iipnn H,.' ncene, the wives of the warriors were neon ^;athered around the rude car which hore llie corse of their chief Some that were ktii'elin^, cnvercd their faces >\iili llieir liands and wcpi ; while others lay extended and dis«">nsii|ate II|hiu the Ki'oiind, iinpri'Hsed with jjricf ton iMiwer fill to «ri< ienniiig n);ninsl triH's, while others stond wUh one end of their Imws placed iip-'ii the ground, mid their heads hniiKHiK '*: tl al and tilial duty, in llie eotisi)(iuiioiil nf ic remains of Ihe >ig-luoiis Oitnwiih to Upon t"ii« liiinds which t^iijipoffMl ih ii* weapons. All were *ile" 1 as Ihe lifih»s"« rem.'iiiis of the d(>|mrled chief nor the sniind nf the wind, imr hnnmn i nie«', nor note of liird. hrnke flie stillness of the lime. The dnv M.'is Tinw confirme*!; and the warriors had performed their nreiisinmed devoiintis, when Alitomnh, neeompanie, cnine out nf the jjrnve, into the interior of which they had enfered wilh the first indi- cations of the retiirninjij lii^lit. In pa\ Iheir innrninji; adornlioiis to the (Jreni Spirit, in llie forms which the t'hristinn had ncciunmodated to ihe chnraeliT of; the yoiiii!; iiidian's impr«'ssioiis, and the dejjre<' of his failli. Adalie was pale and ihoufjhifiil Ihe while man was calm and resiijncd; hul Ahtninah seemet tn s|rii<;tfle ad to' pirt'niin the last nflice of their rcvcreri tial and lilial dnt th Iheir ili'stiiii'd Ininli; and when the yonnt; chief approached the hirr which h'ore llie cnrse of his f:itlier. the more eminent of ihe %,arriors look iheir Ktations, nc<'nrd- iny; to seiiioritv, Ihe elder nlwn\s the nearer the head nf the corse of ilioir chief The nndistin^iiished mas< then followed; and nflrr them cnnu' ihcir «l\es, with tlu> excepli'in nf ihe wife of their departed sovereijjn, « ho follnwed t\ilhher attendants immedialely hi'hind the car. Six of the xrnrriors now rniiicil liv the thicker w<«m| thrnii<;h whii-h lliev iinw p.'issed; lull, lliev re-fnrnicr|Hi'eiM«<« ami the a m'iii I' n 1 2 OTTAWA ir, TMK LAST CIIIKl' or l)liii;U sIuuIdws of the obtr'uling rocks, as t!my fell upon (1h> concave sides of the principiil iMiiiniber, with the impression iniide upon tlie minds of the red men by tlio uncertain terminations of the dark and gapin^r clefts, served to encourage their superstitious fears, and added re- doubled gloom to the scene, which the inconstant glare of the ttrches that gave motion to everything around, still aug- mented, with every step they advanced. The car was now set down in the centre of the largest chamber of the cavern; and the warriors formed a circle at some paces distant urouml it, the most aged, with Ahtoraah, still placing them- selves before the corse of Ottawah, These arrangements accommodated, the youthful chief made a sign, and the war- riors sang the wild strain, by which they were accustomed to take leave of their departed chiefs, now adapted to the espe- cial occasion, in the following words: — " Oh Ottawah I chief of red men ! art thou gone ! "Is thy spirit fled I "Shades of our fathers, receive the red chief! "The broad entrance to the world of departed spirits is open. " Ottawah enters. "See! he embraces the shades of !.is fathers. "Ho is a spirit. " He will no more leave a trail upon his path. "But he will be seen thiough the mists, when the moonlight discovers the fleeting shades of the departo«l. " Mortal sight shall then behold him. " Kest ! Rest ! Good spirit. Thy course is run. " To-morrow — and the eye of the great spirit will he dim. " The mists, as they pass over his disk, will dissolve in tears. "The weeping clouds will water the sad ground, " The niDuntaina will mourn. " The valleys will no more echo with the sound of Ottawah's voice. "The forests will droop; and in weep- ing the absence of Ottawah, overflow tl>o brooks with their tears. When the war- ilors stoop to drink of the stream, the murmuring of the comphiining current shall be heard, in broken soiuuls, like human sobs. " The chief of rod men is departed, a:u! will return no more," While the warriors vet sang their funeral dirge, the quick eye of their young chief suddenly rested upon the form, OS it seemed to him, of the boy he had eueountered in the camp, on the preceding day, and who now appeared mingling with the warriors, directly opposite the position where ho himself stood. The entranced youth no sooner recognised the same features that had yesterday recalled all the circumstances of the vision which he had seemed to see upon the preceding night, than his voice, wnich had been united with that of his 1)eople, forsook him; and he stepped lack, and assumed a position, as if a weight that was too heavy to be borne, were now pressing him to the earth. — But ho presently resumed the attitude in which he had previously stood; and with some difticulty, after a few minutes, he now pronounced the word, "Mana tano!" (a spirit). It was fortunate that the exclamation reached no ears but those of his white guests; or, the alarm of the warriors, and the frantic terror of the women, would probably have produced excesses that nught have ill accorded with the solemnity which distinguished, the per- fornuuico of the last oflices that they were assembled to pay to the remains of the good Ottiiwivli. As Jie warriors still continued their wild hynui, the young chief began to recover from the ilrst effects of his amnzenu'nt. But it was the third time he had bthold i\w same appearance, which he was now nuire than ever con- vinced was some messenger, whether of evil or of good, from the unseen world. 'J'ho wiuriiirs had now concluded the solenui rite. And when all stood still, uthful chief, in expectation ot the last order concerning the linal consignment of the btidy . ;' liis father to a narrow cell of an inner cave, which had been prepared for that purpose, the boy, before unseen or unobserved by any eye save that of Ahtomali, advanced from his position among the forenuist of the war- riors on the side of tiio circle on whicdi he had stood; and now, by laying him- self upon the ground at the foot of the car, he thus signified his desire, after a freipKMit custom among the red men, of being sacrificed, and laid side by side in the tomb with their departed eluef. But although the custom of snerilicing at the tomb of the ehiel's had been com- nu>u in their tribe, it was not the inva- riable practice, and the victim was ever voluntary; and such influence had the white nuin already obtained over the miiuls of the savages, that it was not THli UKD IxVDIAXS OF NLWFOUNDfAND . 133 expected that any one would bo slivugh- torod to attend the good Otlawiih to the woi'ld of shades to which his spirit had Hed. Thus, it was not without surprise, mingled with the reverence and dread which the time and place inspired, that the warriors now witnessed the noble instance of devotion which they saw before them, Ahtomah, when I)e perceived the actions of the boy, began to doubt the grounds of his late fears; and calling to the stranger youtii in a raised voice, he bade him stand erict, and answer sucii necessary questions as should bo put to him, before his generous otter might be accepted. The boy, now obedient to the com- mands of the young chief, arose upon his feet, and stood exposed to the full gaze of the warriors. His face was turned towards Ahtomah ; but his eye, whether from fear, or from respect for the son of Ottawah, seemed rnthor to avoid, than court, any direct interchange of its apt sense with that of him who addressed him. And now the youthful chief proceeded to further question the devoted boy. " Young stranger," said he, in the same raised voice in which he hiid before spoken, "who art thou? aiul from which party of the remnant of Ottawuh's people, comest thou a willinn glance of that of Ahtomah, " I die, less to honour the obsequies of the good Ottawah, than to give happiness to the present chief of red men. I die not for the dead, but for the living!" At the first soinul of tiio mysterious stranger's voice, Ahtomah had once more involuntarily retired a step backwards, nearly overcome by the mingled feelings of terror and amazement which possessed him. Tlio eyes of the warriors were too in- tently fixed upon the devottMl boy, to ob- serve the elVects of his speech upon Ahtomah. And after a little time, the young chief recovered his preseuco of mind; and stepping again forward, in tones of gentleness instead of command, he thus now spoke: — " Say stranger, for thou v/ilt answer truly; art thou, indeed, Munamana, or, art thou the spirit of that unhanpy maid?" At the ntumi of one that had been some time honoured as the future mother of a line of chiefs, but who was long since believed to have perished by the hands of their enemies, the warriors were over- come by their mingled feelings of doubt and joy. Any suspicion concerning the stranger's real character had not entered their minds; but there were few who did not now recognise the voice of the long betrothed bride of the afflicted son of Ottawah. To the demand of the chief, the devoted maid only replied by a motion of her arms, signifying that she would embrace hiiu before shedic-d. And now Ahtomah, with quick step and open arms, advanced, whether to take leave of the maiden, or to residue her from th(i cruel death which she courted. IJut as if the measure of grief which the destinies had assigned to the warriors and their young chief were not yet full, ere the long severed pair met in (>ach other's embrace, a tomahawk, from an unknown hand, clove the sub- terranean air, and buried its sharp edge in the panting bosi.m of the faithful Manamana, who fell at the feet of the youthful warrior. The horror and ccmsternation of the warriors was now wrought to the highest pitch. Some rushed towards the scene of blood which they witnessed; while others sought around for the hand from which the murderous instrument had pro- ceeded. Hut the yoiuig chief, unconcious of any thing save tho oliject before him, fell iq)i)n his knee, besille the long lost object of his first passion; and, as he drew the fatal weapon from the breast of the Indian maimbariu)(l, in skilfully taking advantage of the intervals of the gentler recoil of the sea, whidi enabled them to avoid the dangerous breaking of the swells which continually beat against the solid rocks. The ocean-seals, the immediate object of which they were in search, some- times sport at a short distance from tho shore, and often pliice themselves, at full sea, upon rocky ledges, where, as tho receding waters leave them, they bask in the rays of the sun, in positions from whicli they may plunge into the water upon the first alarm; and at other times they line the pebbleS strands of tho deeper inlets or the open bays. Tlic wary animal, as it is well known, has an exceedingly acute sense of hearini;' as well as of sight, and is not usually taken, unless unexpectedly hemmed in by tho ice, witliout the exercise of nuich sagacity and practised skill on the part of its pursuers. Tho hunting party proceeded in their canoes to some distance along the shore, before they perceived any indications of the presence of any amphibious aniajals. At length th((y ol)served several seals, sporting in the wat«r in face of a low beach; and tliey now landed, to prepare to decoy them within the nnich of their arrows while on shore. The crew of one of tho canoes, first crept along under the shelter of some ridges of rocks in the rear of tho strand, until they came immrdiately opposite the scene of the sport. They now laid them- selves at full length upon the ground; and, in imitating the moti(Mis of tho seal, they crept slowly from tlicsir shelter, sometimes stretching their necks back- wards and raising their htols, as they advanced, i'!;d often turning slowly round in that position; at the same time, whin- ing at tiio full pitch of their voices, after the manner ot the seals wIumi they lie upon the shores unconscious of danger. By this sort of artifice, the hunters wen- wont sometimes to decoy a eousi- dcrablo number of seals at the same time on shore, while the canoes that were still atloat, cut ort' their retreat; and they thus made them an easy prey. Hul, in the present instance, whtstner from some in- stinctive impression of the change of the weather, or of the approach of floating ice, th(> seals paid no regafd to tho mo- tions and antics of tlu! Indians, and began to retreat Lowards tlu' open sea. The hunters now changed their plan of attack. Tho crews that had landed, re-embarked; and thv.y all proceeded to follow the objects of their toil, with tho utmost silent moxcment of the paddle, in the hope of taking some of them sepa- rately, as they should approach tho canoes, in mistnkhig them for masses of tho frozen olemeut which they wora painted to represent. I! 1III! ' . 136 OTTAAVAH, THE LAST CHIEF OF The Indians for a time lu'pt at some distance from the seals, which, as they proceeded to sea, raised their lieads at intervals above the water, witlioiit either exhibiting any ahirm, or seeming to be attracted by what tUey saw. At h-ngth, as (lie warriors proceeded, there began to appear evident signs of an rpproacliing change in the weather. A mist was perceptibly collecting. Ikit as this was favourable to the objects of the exjiedition, it was only regarded by the hunters as a propitious sign of the results of the day's sport. Yet, not caring to proceed to any distance from the shore, they began to slacken their exertions with the paddle. But, as they relaxed their efforts, the seals seemed also to dis- continue their course; and they sported and played again, and appeared now in such numbei's, as to engage the Indians to renew their efforts to place their canoes at once among them. The hunters now concealed their per- sons with redoubled civre, exposing only their white capped heads at intervals, until they succeeded in bringinr the wary aninuils :tbout them, when leir bows were bent, and their shafts i.,osed witli such unerring aim, that few of tlu; canoes were long witiiout a seal, and that of their leader had already two. As they pursued tlieir sport, the mist which favoured their efforts, had imner- i-eptiblv increased to a dense fog, w.iich I'oneealed every thing I'rom view, save t!ic iininmls of tlie chase, as they singly raised their heads above the water, and received the deadly shaft of their pursuers. Aitliuiigh the air was cold, the season was supposed to be too far advanced for tlie apjiearance of any (pumtity of ice, which, in the early part of summer, Hoats in shapeless aTid enormous masses in every sea throughout this region of the glolje. IJut the red men, were in this instance, mistaken in their calculations, or became the victims of the over-indul- gence of tlieir passion for the chase: and in the midst of their sport, as the mist suddenly cleared away, tlie whole strait appeared covered witli lloating islands or ice-bergs, which entirely intercepted their view of the land, and seemed ready to arrest their advance in whichsoever direction they turned. The canoes, too, were dispersed; or that of the young chief, at least, was separated from the rest, and now became subjected to many perils, of which it is incumbent to relate the circumstances without any reference to the fate of the others, during the con- sequent adventures and enterprise, in which the young warrior and his chosen crew were engaged. CHAPTER XLV. " III thrilling regions of tlilik-rlbhi'd icn." Mkasuhk i'Ou Mi;asi;ue. " Whoru plmgfry foriiib o'er icc-bnill niouuliiins roam." Okav. All was solemn and silent, as the frail bark of the young chief now floated upon the encumbered and motionless element ; and as the mists which had concealed the dangers that awaited tiie red men, passed towards the west, the beams of the mid- day sun fell upon the craggy sides and steep peaks of the floating islands, which reflected the sparkling r.ays with too daz- zling, and too constant effect, for any eye but that of a practised Indian warrior to gaze upon; and the magnificent show, tilled the clii(;f and his companions in peril, with more amazement and admira- tit)n than terror. The coming of the ice, indeed, not- withstanding the dangers which it pre- sented, would have been a welcome sight to the young cliief, had the white maiden been with her lather in the camp; for, however perilous to approach in the open strait, when under the influence of the curnait and the wind, it usually brought with it an immense number of the animals of which tl'.ey were in search; which were often found sleeping in the rays of the sun, upon projecting ledges, and sometimes so locked in, that the hunters were enabled in a law hours, to kill as many as supplied their wants for the season. But now, when the first startling imp, ssioiis of the Indians were over, the thoughts of their leader were less occupied with the anticipations of sport, than with fears for the safety of Adalie, whose firmness, during the perils to which he perr eived they wire about to be exposed, he could not but doubt. The ^oung warrior turned his eye in every direction; and, as he thought he perceived the land and a clear way in that of the south, he exclaimed, " Every paddle to tlu; water; and let every war- rior exert his utmost force. We must first land and place the daughter of the Lord of the Mountain in safety, and afterwards pursue the wary oojects of our chase." The eye of Ahtomah was not deceived. And as the mists entirely dispersed, the bleak hills of his native island appeared str< telling towards the south and the w.st, directly under the sun; nnd he I mountains Okay. cntei'tuiiied hopes ol' "(liiiin,'^' tin- ^'huc' hi'loro the iii>i)roaeli d. nif;lu. Tho warriors obeyed tlie coininaiuls tliey hud received; and their joiitht'ul leader, as, Avith his seareliinji; eye, lie ex- amined the situation of the ice, which he wouhl tiiiu believe about to otter less de- struction than his toresif>ht and ex- perience tauffht him to apprehend, only- repeated: "Let i'\t'ry warrior put forth his utmost strength. The warriors were now inspired by the double motive, of showing their obedience 18 and (Ii'Mdion to their nvw lender, and ; their uesiro to give some pruol" dl' tluir i entire conquest over the ancient enmity of tho tribe to the white race, which had ' been gridually ettected, rather by >i com- I bination of circumstances, than solely by the mystery in which the history and character of the fovnier dwellers in the holy mountain were involved. Such, however, had been the change in this I particular, that men, who had scarce seemed possessed of human feelings be- fore, were now as often the rivals of each II. ■ u M? »!• I ' ::« I! %.;, I 1 ii pi I ; A^ 138 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OF other, in offices, even of benevolence, as in the ferocious pursuits which they had been accustomed to think alone worthy to enga'^e the passions and feelings of a warrior: and at this moment, it seemed as if their interest was concentrated in the same object which governed the feelings and the actions of their leader. Adalie, unconscious of danger, sat at the feet of their young chief, *as in silence she contemplated the glittering spectacle which surrounded them. With ice and snow she had been familiiir from her earliest years; and they had never been objects of terror to her mind; nor did she now believe that any evil could over- take them, while the command of Ahto- mah was the signal for the exertion of the warriors, and the judgment of the young chief, their guide. But the land which they had seemed to see, was soon shut out from the view, by a range of ice-islands, that were floating majestically down the strait; and to pass through these became now the immediate object of their steady en- deavours. They sometimes paddled through narrow passages, and sometimes passed under immense arches of the frozen element. And often, the current drove the islands against one another, and exposed their canoe to perils, from which the rapidity of their movements, guided by th > skill of their leader, wa» hardly sufficient to disengage then). But an open space now appeared, which again discovered the land, ftrtj encouraged them to redouble their efforts; and as they advanced, they approached an im- mense ice-berg, isolated and aground. The current swept rapidly by it: and as they passed its rugged clefts, they ob- served many seals. Some were sittiuji upon ledges from which they dropped into the water, and some at the entrance Qf hollows or caverns in the icn, into which they retired as the canoe approached them. But the thoughts of the Indians were now occupied with their own safety, and they did not regard the prey which had been the object of the expedition. This remarkable island of ice, was also distinguished from the rest, by the deep blue tints, which seemed to be the colour of its whole mass, and by a great column of mist, which ascended perpendicularly from its summit, in gradually enlarging, till it became invisible, or till it was dis- sipated by the purer air oT the higher re- gion. The red men were not far from this immense body of the congealed element, when the floating ice, under the influence of whirlpools and counter currents, again closed and interrupted their progress. 1 And such was the crash with which the enormous masses met each other, and the force with which the whole body now floated again in one direction, that the young chief was reduced to ike necessity of directl/ig the ixtavn to eeek the cover of the groiinde4 island which they had passed. The sheltered or leo side of the great ice-berg, was indented with deep high- arched caverns, which seemed adapted to afford a safe retreat from the immediate peril; but the approaches to that which promised the greatest security, were ren- dered dangerous, by the perfect cataracts which fell from a greater or less heighi on all sides around. The hunters how- ever watched the occasion, and ran their canoe within the waterfalls, and thus at- tained the best shelter which the largest of the caverns afforded. They were scarcjoly within this cold retreat, before immense masses of ice now floated by them on either side. And such was the force with which some of these struck against the grounded mass, that the great ice-berg was shaken to its base, till it seemed about to turn over and bury the frail bark and her ill-fated crew in the depth of the sea* T'le red men regretted that they hfld not stationed thenii^elves upon one of the floating islands, to dp whhih, it WM now too late; for as the day advanced* the water fell in yet broader streams around them; and the eddy currents had brought masses of ice into the dead water under the lee of the great island,where all remained stationary, and left no way open for the retreat. In this state of suspense they continued for some time to wait for a favourable op- portunity to change their position; but po OMiUng yet appeared, and the night was fast ftpproftching. If ftjtythipg oould conquer the fortitude of an Indian warrior, or subdue his sense of obligation to obey the chief of the party upon any expedition in which he should be engaged, the dangers, to which the companions of Ahtomah were now ex- posed, would have overcome their respect for their youthful leader, who, by the dis- content of a single warrior might have been subjected to the reproaches of his partners in peril, as the author of *he un- expected ills to which they were exposed. But the authority of the young chief, so necessary to their preservation, suffi;red no diminution; for it rested, not solely upon the ancient custom and precedent upon which it was founded, but was additionally threatened t THE RKD IXniANS OF XEWFOtJXDLANI). 139 strengthened, by the respect with which the capacity and acti\e courage o" Ahtoraah, and even his connexion with the mysteri- ous Lord of the Mountain, had inspired the warriors. Amidst the continual crash of the ice, and the roar of the surrounding water- falls, the young warrior sat on the stern- most thawt of his canoe, as unmovod as if he were xmconscious of tlie dangers that threatened them, and the certain destruction that must follow, should the great island, under which they had taken shelter, at length fall before the force which continually beat against it on all sides save that of the cavern in which they had taken refuge. The warriors regarded their chief at intervals, with looks expressive of their expectation of receiving his commands; but no hesitation, no irresolution appeared among them: nothing, indeed, seemed to shake their generous confidence in the foresight and decision of their leader, or their tranquil resignation to their fate. Ahtomah only observed, when he per- ceived the anxiety of his companions in danger: " The current may change. The night will dry up the streams that now pour from the melting heights cf the unsub- stantial island. We must wait patiently the time of the Great Spirit.'' Adalie exhibited no less confidence, and little less fortitude than the warriors. As she sat wrapped in furs, at the feet of Ahtomah, she appeared, indeed, regardless of the surrounding dangers, save now and then, when the loud crash of the ice tlireatened to overwhelm them, or when the irregular swell ot" the sea, occasioned by the motion of the floating ice-islands, as they were turned over by the current, agitated the water within tlie cavern, and threatened to drive them into one of the foaming whirlpools, which were formed by the water-fulls about them. In those moments of extreme peril, the white maiden fixed her eyes upon the countenance of Ahtomah, and the calm- ness that the features of the young war- rior displayed, soon allayed her fears; wliilo the expression of lively affection mingled with hope, which she perceived predominant in the mind of her protector wiien lie returned her regards, proclaimed the triumph of a superior nature over the adverse chances of uncertain fate, and presently restored all her confidence. While they lav exposed to the immi- nent perils that threatened them, the light of the sun gradually faded awuy, until the thick darkness concealed every object from their sight, save the sparkling from the ocean water, as the streams from the melting island still poured down in tor- rents before them. But as the night advanced, the cold increased, and the waterfalls rapidly diminished. And now Ahtomah, full of new hope, eagerly seized the opportunity of this appearance of improvement in their fortunes, to incite his companions to pre- serve their patience, and to cherish the same hope which he entertained, of a speedy change in the position of the ice; and neither were his hopes deceived, nor his efforts to encourage the warriors, in vain. The night however was far advanced, before the streams of water were dried up. But the crash and turmoil which the rush of the ice occasioned now ceased, and a perfect stillness succeeded. The change was not a matter of acci- dent. The increasing cold had arrested the dissolution of the ice which was above them. But although no question could arise concerning the cause or the reality of this favourable change, a difference of opinion was entertained bj' the vrarrior.s concerning the reasons of the cessation of the noise which had been caused by the floating ice. Had it all passed by them? Or had th; current ceased to flow? Or did the grounded island, without clianging its position, now float in the midst of the moving mass? The young loader of the isolated party, now perceiving the doubts of the war- riors, preceded iiis next commands by an exposition of his own opinion concerning the change. " We have not," sold h'.', " as it n.i. ♦^i be clear to every warrior, altered our position in relation to the great ire-berg wiiich has afforded us sheiter; and it is evident that neither ice nor current now passes by us; from whicii we may con- clude, that the grand island has swept over the bank upon which it had grounded, and now floats tranquilly in the midst of the stream. " And," continued the youthful war- rior, " a better fortune we could not have desired. We shall now he ir. safety until the day-light np pears, and some counter current open a way through inlands and fields of ice. to rvumit of our retrtrn to the shore." But if the full expectations of the young warrior were not so speedily ac- complished, his companions in peril were not long witlujlit the evidence of the just reasoning upon whiolj they were founded. Ai- ,1 us the soft light of the i lii' if;\ fn m 140 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OF the cx- niooa uow dimly shone through vapours, that hung over the whole panse of the waters, the red raen per- ceived their situation, and the prooui of the superior judgment of their leader. The enormous ice-berg which appeared above them, seemed as motionless and immovable as a sv. '^d rock set in the midst of a plain: and as they issued from their insecure retreat, masses of ice, in irregular forms, were seen on every side around; and all floated together, so gently with the stream, towards the west, that it was only by dropping their sounding line, that they were conscious of motion, or able to discover the direction in which they were proceeding. At length the day broke, and as the sun dispersed, the mists which had obscured his full brightness during the first hours of the day, they discovered the faint blue irregular line of a mountain land. But it was not that of their native island ; and there was yet no escape, no passage open, that they might make their way, should they desire it, even towards the rude shore. They continued to drift with the ice until near mid-day, when they were so near the continental land, as to induce their leader to determine, if possible, to force his way to the firm earth on that side, should no clear passage appear upon the side of their own coast. It was the seat of their inveterate enemies the Eskimohs, *or "quadruped Indians," vt'hich inhabit that cold and bleak region ; but it was not so ;verod with inhabitants, as to render it improba- ble that the red men might find a retreat where they could rest undiscovered by any party strong enough to attack them, until the current should open a way by which they might regain their native island. The opportunity to make the hazardous attempt occurred. The ice opened ; and Ahtomah was prepared to turn the efforts of the warriors, in the direction of the Eskimoh shore. The young chief gave the command, and was promptly obeyed: but they had hardly succeeded in detaching themselves from the ice which immediately sur- rounded them, when the quick ^-e of Ahtomah, already discovered dapgors in front of them, far above those from which they had but now escaped. Several Eskimoh canoes were scon ap- proaching the ice, apparently in seai'ch of seals. The red men observed that the force of their enemies was many times that which they could oppose to them ; for there appeared eight or ten canoes, all of which were, doubtless, manned and armed at least as well as their own, which had not been prepared when they embarked for an expedition in which they might have calculaled the chances of any inordi- nary warfare or surprise from their enemies. There were but ten warriors and their chief in the red canoe, and the most effective of their weapons were pro- perly these of the chase. The forlorn red party again looked to their leader, with confidence in his pru- dence and his skill; and the young war- rior's plan of defence was quickly con- ceived. " Keep every warrior as close as possi- ble," now said Ahtomah, " until we attain the ridge of the ice' islands, which still separate us from the enemy. We are not yet discovered ; and the outer edge of the ice, is, doubtless, black like the inner, with its multitudes of seals, which will at once cover us, and engage the Eskimoh till they are prepared to return to their shore. " The drowsy four-paws," he then added, " want their eyes of summer. They have ji'st crept out of their winter retreat. Phcy will miss a prey, which the Mic- macs would hnve sacrificed a chief to obtain. We must mount the stream under cover of the ice, or find shelter until the sluggards change their course and return to the land, when we may easily paddle unobserved towards their shore." The commands of Ahtomah were obeyed ; and the warriors paddled in the wake of an ice-berg, until they reached the ridge which separated them from their enemies. Then keeping along the edge of the rugged mass, which they found covered with seals, that little re- garded their approach, they endeavoured to mount the stream. But as they were soon obstructed in this attempt, they now chose a favourable position, where they hauled their canoe upon the ice, from which they drove all the seals into the water, that their dark skins might not attract the attention of any Eskimohs that should chance to pass to the inner side of the ridge. Their next step, was to examine the condition of the ice about thorn, which they found firm and favourable for con- cealment. They then took up tlioir canoe, and threaded the narrow ];:.. .^os between the irregular peaks of ice, until they conceived thomsolves to be quite screened from accidental observation, if not from the vigilance of designed i ur- suit. -i THK RKD INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 141 As soon as they had selected theif hiding place, their first act, was to form a bed in the ice for their canoe. Then they laid Adalic, wrapped in furs, in the bottom of the dry bark. And when they had made a bed upon one side of the canoe for the young chief, and one upon the other for the faithful attendant of the white maiden, with thoir tomahawks they adapted enough of the frozen element to conceal their place of retreat; so that if the Eskimohs did not discover their trail, which it was not easy to obliterate, they might pass within a few paces of the spot, without suspecting the presence of a human foe. In this situation the red men remained imtil the sun went down; not daring so much as to dispatch a scout to observe the motions of their enemies. But when the day gave place to as much darkness as might screen them from observation beyond the reach of hearing, Ahtomah issued his fresh commands ; and the war- riors arose from their cold bed, and, taking up their canoe, without removing the white maiden, whom their leader would not permit to do more than place herself in a sitting posture, they pro- ceeded towards the edge of ice where they had disembarked while it was yet day. During the first hours of their conceal- ment, the fears of Adalie had been great; but she was near the young chief, who encouraged her to look forward with con- fidence to a happy termination of the expedition, and their escape from the dangers which yet presented themselves, and to a speedy return to the land of the red tribe. And such had been the suc- cess of the young warrior, that the maiden, during the last hours they re- mained upon the ice, had fallen into a sound sleep, from which she did not awake, until summoned, again to witness the determined efforts of the red warriors to regain their native land. CHArTER XLVI. " What counsel give you, whither s'lall ve fly?" Kino Hejjii': VI. The second day of the perils to which the young chief and his companion were subjected, had closed; and the last faint light of the sun had ceased to distinguish the western quarter of the hemispiierc, when the red men, with the maiden, now the object of their common interest, re- embarked, to proceed in whatever direc- tion, and make whatsoever efforts, their youthful leader might command. But the young warrior was too conscious of the sacrodness of his charge, and too distrustful of that superiority, which the actions and the prompt obedience of the warriors, rather than their words, awarded him, to disregard the aid, or undervalue the importance of the counsel of his com- panions in peril. Thus he invited the warriors, freely to express their opinions, whether it were better, remembering the darkness of the night, and the probable obstruction from the ice, to attempt the passage to their own island, or endeavour to effect a landing upon the Eskimoh coast, where there could be little doubt of their safety until the return of day. The warriors were divided in opinion; but their suggestions were offered with modesty and unaffected deference for the foresight and judgment of their young leader, whose determination and whose command, they but awaited, 'o obey. And now, when Ahtomah perceived the unshaken confidence of tus com- panions, he declared in favour of an attempt to reach the land of the Eski- mohs. It was his opinion, that they ought not to run th^psk of being again locked up in the icdWtthout more food than they possessed, which, notwith- standing their success, was sufficient but for a few days, while they had no know- ledge of the sea into which they were drifting, or of the shores beyond the strait, save that the waters were without bounds to the south, and that the shores as far as known on either side, were inhabited by a hostile tribe; besides, that wherever they might ultimately land, in case they should continue to drift with the ice, they must, of neces- sity, be moi'o distant from their native hills, than if they found themselves, when the opportunity should offer to pass the strait, upon the coast to which they were now so near. " Among the indented rocks of this precipitous and rugged shore," said Ahtomah, '• we shall nt least find present shelter; and some creek may afford us a retreat, or some cave conceal us from observation, should our stay be pro- longed. But should the present repose of the elements continue, we may em- brace the first signs of day; and we shall be beyond the vision of the farthest sighted warrior among the four-paws, before tiio day-light distinguishes the dark hills of their native country from the floating homos of the inhabitants of the ocean; and we shall probably find ourselves in a clear sea." ,*■ 142 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OF The young warrior having thus deter- mined their course, there wfvs no further hesitation; and the red men now began to paddle with all their strength for the enemy's shore. The night was clear and star-light; and as they approached the rugged coast, they observed its overhanging and huge cliffs, indented with deep fissures and dark caverns, which seemed to promise them the shelter of which they were in search. They now proceeded along the shore by the light of the stars, keeping within a short distance of the foam of the waves which recoiled from the rocky cliffs, that, in case any Eskimoh should be on the watch, the canoe might be confounucd with the varied shades of the agitated waters, and that the noise of their pad- dles might be unheard amidst the turmoil of the sea. They had not proceeded far, before they found a ridge of rock, extending from the base of the cliffs to some dis- tance into the sea. Here they effected a landing; and having hauled up their canoe, they now ngiMeded to search for some secure vetee^j^taxd, after lighting a torch, under cover of the rocks, they discovered a deep cavern, which they entered, bearing wiih them their canoe. The first care of Ahtomah, upon this their earliest leisure, was to make some alteration in the exterior of their canoe, that it might resemble those of the Eski- mohs, which was easily effected. This precautionarj- step being taken, the red warriors, save Ahtomah, and the watch which he had set at the mouth of the cavern, all sought that repose which was necessary to recruit their strength for the labour which the mor- rovr promiiied. And now, while his com- panions slept, the thoughts of the young leader relaxed from those objects in which they had been necessarily en- gaged from the commencement of their difficulties; and he encouraged Adalie, who was indisposed also to sleep, to con- verse with him on the prospects of their return to the land of their parents and of the red tribe. "What will be the thoughts of the Lord of the Mountain," said Ahtomah, " what the state of thy father's mind during his child's protracted absence, with the uncertainty of her return.'' " And the red warriors will not see Ahtomah," said Adalie, " the red people, their chief. They will watch the hori- zon by day; and by night they will stund upon the shore, and call upon his name; but their attent ears shall catch no sound, save the screams of the white sea-bird, and the noise of the beating sen. Should the Micmacs come, who shall load the red people?" " Dissipate these vain thoughts," then said Ahtomah. "Before another sun com- plete his day's journey in the west, we shall bo again in the camp of the red tribe. The serenity of the night gives expectation of a calm and auspicious day. With the first tokens of the return of the sun, we shall proceed on our uninter- rupted course for the land of the red tribe. We may not forget the former favours of the Great opirit." Thecouutenaiice of \dalie proclaimed the confidence she reposed in Ahtomah; but she evinced an unwillingness to con- tinue the discourse, which the young warrior attributed to the effects of fa- tigue; and he encouraged her to embrace the occasion to sleep. The white maiden promised to comply; but her control over her thoughts was not equal to her inclination to obey the be- hests of Ahtomah ; and when the youth- ful warrior perceived that she did not sleep, he besought her to reveal more fully to him the thoughts which oc- cupied her mind, and deprived her of repose. " In this I will obey," said Adalie, " and most willingly. In all things, and at all times, it is tit that I should do so. I have thought in silence, only because I would not disturb the meditations of the mind alone capable of withdrawing us from the dangers into which we have fallen. But my thoughts arc not like those of the chief of the red tribe; yet they have been of our deliver- ance." But here the maiden for a moment paused; and then, without waiting for any remark from Ahtomah, the con- tinued — " While the chief of red men has been planning the means for eluding the Eskimohs, or for the destruction of such of his enemies as oppose him, the daugh- ter of the Lord of the Mountain has been led into thoughts, tending to suggest the means to meet the enemies— the same enemies of Ahtomah's race -in peace; and visions have past before her ejes, representing the reception of Ahtomah and his companions in the camp of the Eskimohs, which, were they realised, would form an alliance such as that which my father, as thou knovvest, Ah- tomah, desires to .see accomplished THE RED IXDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. ll.'i between the red tribe and the white race, which your people so despise. " TheEskimohs,''continuedthe maiden, " as thou hast often told me, Ahtomah, have but little affinity with the Micmacs. Will they not feel human pity for our forlorn condition? And, may they not, even by this very accident be won over to the interests of the red tribe?" The younfj; warrior fixed his eyes upon the white maiden, who, for the first time, turned from his i-egards with fear. The Indian had not been wholly able, to suppress or conceal the indig^nant feel- inpfs which possessed him at the propo- sition of the maiden. But his passion was momentary. And when he porcoived its eft'ect upon Adalie, he remembered her better nature, and his human feelings re- turned. He regretted that the unguarded expression of his natural feelings had given her pain; and he reassured her by the prompt confession of his error, and then with tenderness, added, " Yes, Adalie, they would relieve us, if it be relief, to suffer at the stake — to perish by the hand of an enemy. But thy spirit fair daughter of another race," he continued, " is too pure to comprehend the nature, or foresee ! ' u; issue, of Indian revenge. The nativi earth of the red tribehas drunk the bluort of the Eskimohs, for more snows than may be numbered." The white maiden raised her expressive eyes. The effects of tenderness and in- nocence upon the savage mind, were never more apparent : and the warm em- brace of the impassioned Indian and his affianced bride^ showed, at once, how earnestly they both forgave the evil thoughts which their dissimilar natures taught each of them to believe possessed the breast of the other. Then they con- versed of the father of Adalie, and of the warriors from whom they had been se- parated ; until Adalie, overcome by bodily fatigue and anxiety, at length fell into a gentle sleep. When the youthful chief perceived that the maiden slept, he covered her with the warmest furs, that she might be screened from the damp and draughts of the cavern; and she now rested, appa- rently, as undisturbed in mind, as when she reposed upon her luxurious bed in the sacred mountain of the red tribe. Ahtomah now awoke one of the sleep- ing warriors, and changed the watch at the mouth of the cave. An 1 when this was accomplished he stretched himself upon the ground within a few paces of Adalie; but his anxiety concerning their condition, for some time, still deprived him of sleep. At lenj^th, nature gave way to necessity, and the protector of the white maiden fell also into a state of re- pose. CHAPTER XLVII. " Tlie peril of the wntcrs, winds, and rocks." MBRfKANT OF Venice, The eyes of the young chief had not been long closed, when he was awakened by a warrior, who, kneeling upon one knee beside him, gave him notice of the revo- lution of the firmament, and the appear- ance of the morning star. Ahtomah now arose upon his feet; and having awakened Adalie, and the war- riors, they all prepared to depart, without waiting for any further signs of the ap- proach of the day. It was calm, and no part of the heavens was obscured; and from the profound silence that reigned, there seemed good grounds of hope that the whole of the ice had now past through the strait, and left the passage free for their return to thfir own land. And when they had knelt at the mouth of the cave, and offered up their morning oriasons to the Great Spirit, whose signal protection they ac- knowledged, Ahtomah led Adalie across the rugged way which conducted to the shore, and the warriors, bearing the canoe upon their shoulders, followed. When they had launched their canoe, their youthful leader arranged the order in which they should place themselves. He then seated Adalie upon a bed of skins at his feet: and thus they wore once again safely embarked, and in full hop6s of being beyond observation, should any Eskimoh be upon the beach a« soon as a distant object might be perceived and in high expectation of a favourable termination of their troubles before the close of the coming day. As they shot from the land, the gentle swell assured them that there was cer- tainly no quantity of ice in the strait; and they confidently proceeded in the direction of their native island. There was but little wind when they embarked; but as the first streaks of light in the east proclaimed the approach of the sun, a gentle breeze from the op- posite quarter of heaven began to favour their endeavours; and, as no ice appeared, they entertained hopes, that in a few hours they might descry the hills of their native land, and, before the set of her sun, perhaps meet again theirfriends, and the warriors who had accompanied them \\'k t4t (>rr\\vAii. rill liiiil ]iiik( (Iii< H(rnil, or i«(ill liiy lii'Vi'lul till' IriM'll nl' viKimi, llf{llill (n np- |iiisi' llii'ir M|>iiri Hiiti lii'^iiii to ilcrliiii', till' wiiiil iii'ii'*!' Ill II I'liiiiriirv ilirrftiitii tu (lull wh 1 1 1 1 il tin I'ir il)'|iiirliiri UN tl II' ('rmii (III' I'liriny'N i"iiiis(; miil. rv<' i)|i|iriiiii'li('il, il iiiiTi'iiMci!, iindl (h O WIIVl'S lirirun to uliiiw (III '<• wliiti lops, ullili' ill" lllii.'U mists Irl'i tin' 1. ,1 I'll iiiily tlit< ilii'i'i'liiiii <>!' till' iiiici'i'liiiii 111 wiiiil tl) inilii'iiti' (licir wny, ^v (• iiuist I'l'tiini, liriiM' wiirrinvs siiiil Alitiiiiiiili, iiH he I'liiiti'inpliili'il llii> iru iiMiitMiiini llll nil; \M' iiiiist ri'tiini to till' .slioi'" of fill' '',;'. iiiioliH, This iliiv, it iM ill viii'i (o iiitt ,'ijit to |!riM'i'(' il I'lirtl Tilt spii'ii iir»'\il is pri'iMiiiiiimit, Tin' tliicU (liirUiU'ss whii'li \i-ils Ihi' hcivciis, proi'hiiiiis his iiscci'iliiiit iiillii"n'' Wf iiiiisl «iilrh miiilhiT iii'i'it 1 iind lo-iimr- ruw «•' limy puss till' .'ili'iiil iiinli-r tin' cyi' ol'tlH' piKroii spiri( ol'llii' rrii (rihr." I( wiiN (III' piiii III' (III' wmi'iiirs to nlii'v , mill their >oiiiik '"iiilir liiiii no nooiici- spoUcii, (him (lii'ii" pinl. Ill's consi'il Cniiii (hi'ir «'(1'(ir(s iigiiiiis( (ho wiinl mni (hi' sfii. Ami iio\> ii( Ills ('oiiimiim I. (I (iiriit'il llii'ir liiri's Irnm thi'ir ir uiirriors iiiiti' liiiiil. iiiMliiiirt'iiion'il'ri'i'd'il (hi'in'oursi'iowiii'ils the ho'^lili' shoro: iiinl liyllu' l'ori'i< of llinr III (III' iiiil oC (111' wimi, (hi'v soon ihlli IIS li'^llll (o slum OMT lhi> (ops of (111' SI with II nipiili(y whirli Inl (ln;lil ho tho will of tho (iioat Spirit to awaril tlioiii, Hut as il' tho nioasiiro ol' tlioir oiilmiii tios was no I Vi'l \'\ wliilo tho roil striijiuli .1 iifxainsl I ho tliroalriiin^ oli'iiiini, I (In OSS s|>iinm', oiii'inv, iifiiiin appoaioi il I II oir woinlonii); oyos, Tho mist, whii'li hail inrroascil with tho will'!, was on nil sides around (hoini and, i( was a( intervals only tliiit (hoy wore iililo to see heyond the dislmioo ol' an arrow's (lif^hl. Ihit at a li|ij',litor moiiioiil, as they nionntod upon *!ii' top ol' the son. lliev wore Miiddi'iily '.inio \M III (h T poariim'o of an J'.lvimoli oanoo, swoopiui' over (ho ■.vuvi')«, «H hIio proooi'deii in tin siiiiio dirootion as (hoiiiNolvos. Doiilils at lirst in the minds ol' llio waniors, wliothoi' what tlii'\' soiiiied to see 'I'o not the hiirU ol' souio evi spirit, piiddlod hv hi.s miiliL;ii iisMioiutes, nut Miiollior oanoo mil miolhor ap loured; and tho rod men loooo'iiisod their hy Ml 'vidoiil oiror( iiimim ononiies, which (hoy made (o pieserM' 'hoiiiNolM's rroni the eoinmon I'lilo w hieli (liroud'iiiil o\ery inordil (hat mifflil ho o\posei I l< Ih rii^iiif; • I'll 10 call The wurriois now saw with iiioroii'-ed I'onlidenoo, the I'lirosiijit ol' (heir yonii^t loader, who had so disg;nisod (lioiromioe (hut they eoiild not, I'roiii a inoderiile disianoo, he liiKeii for an enemy, iinloAs, indeed, mi I'lsKimnli had hoon expressly III soiirell o I'll loin. The rod men looked Tor u si)';n rroiii their oliiel', indieatiM' of his opinion o|' tl 10 eiioiiM lliat was now soon on hoth sides ol' ilieiii; lint they reoeived only some I'rosh instrnodons respeotiii);' the I'lirtlior ammfjomonts ho deemed neeos Niiry for (ho oontinneil dismiiso of their oanoo. Ilitl their (rusl in (heir leader was ineroased, hy (ho renewed ussiinmoo, with wliioh (he preemdioiiH ho had (aUeii hadimimad'il (honi, of the (rn(h of (heir ooinmon orood tlni(, in all oase.s of o\- tiomo peril, (he C! tout Spirit, in a pocniiat' TJIK. IIKI) INIIUNl* OK Nl-\vr(»|i\|i| Wit I4.t niHiiiu'r, iiiN|iin<(l thtt oliiofN of lli*< rv * < triltv, witli iir<>N(ii>iu'i> niid pnwor In pn vent, III- with i-(i'c<)in«>, llu< grnitoNt ilU tliHt t liri'ittt'iuMl itinn. And now ptittitig <'ntii'o (riiHt in tlio yoniif^ wnrnor, tlu-y ('uniinuoti tln-ir «'oiiri)<, nixl witlimil HOi'iniiig io nttriiot iho nolicn of their ( ciuku'h of Iho K.Hki^nohH, tiu>y «'(inld not livlifvi', tliitl whnt thoy hud Hi>t>n, hiid in niilily bocn nior<< thnn Ike likcnoui of tlinir iiniMnioH wliii'h HOMio evil Npirit had pri t<ir miprrior drrnd of their Hpiriluiil enrmirH, ricyond thni wliioh they eiitiTlniiii'd for iitiy iiiorfiil f(Hy Imd thd dny hoforo ncfn up- nroncli tlii> iro, whicii h<> doiihtrd not hiid liien H(*(>i(h'iitiilly locked in, in the* niniinor wliielt they tin iimelveH hud experieni'rd, mid, Ihnt they hud not UA Ihu iee, until 146 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OP the change of the wind to the quarter from which it now blew. And this so- lution of the difficulty from the mouth of Ahtomah, whose sagacity and foresight had already impressed them with respect above that which the warriors ordinarily entertained for their chiefs of any age, again subdued their superstitious doubts, and restored their hopes. The storm continued. But there had been intervals when the wind lulled, that had enabled the young leader of the red men, sufficiently to alter his course, to get out of the track of his enemies. And as they could now sometimes see further than at the time the Eskimoh canoes appeared, and no object was visible, save the ever curling white foam of the rolling seas, as in rapid motion they followed one another, it was evident that at least the present object of their chief had been attained, and that they had parted from the enemy which' had excited their immediate fears. During the appearance of the Eskimoh canoes, the warriors thought little of the dangers of the waves which curled their frightful heads behind tncm, or bore them upon their whilo foam like a bubble among bubbles, and at every instant threatened to engulf them in one of the fearful hollows. But their thoughts now reverted to the present danger, and to that which was before them, should they continue to float until they attained the coast. * The gale continued ; and the sea now raged with augmented violence around them, or sparkled above their heads, when they were entrenched between the trembling waves ; and it was quite dark, when the foremost warrior in the canoe thought he distinguished the roar of the breaking seas against the rocks. A'tomah turned his anxious ear, to essay if he could catch any sounds that might be distinguished from the noise of the wind and the rolling seas around them. Other sounds caught the ear of the young chief; and he now exclaimed: " It is the shore, and the sound should be that of a wave which recoils from a beaoh or rocky strand. At least we are not by the clifrs that there were reasons to dread." It was then, evident, that their safety or destruction depended upon the cha- racter of the shore, which might l)e within hulf an arrow's flight from the fearful wave with which they now strove. Ahtomah again leant forward, as if to catch any new sound that might reach his ear. And now he more confidently exclaimed, " It is well. The sea beats not against any barrier to its course. Had it been other- wise, the rocoil of the waves would ere this have been apparent. Prepare every warrior to leap upon the rocky or pebbled beach. The moment is at hand." The young warrior ceased to speak. And nothing was now heard, save the roar of the wind and the crash of break- ing seas. It was a moment of fearful expectation; but their suspense was short. Ahtomah, who had already raised Adalie from her bed of furs, and sup- Eorted her with one arm upon the thwart eside him, now perceived that the white maiden suddenly pressed against his bosom. His alarm was excited. He placed his hand upon her breast. Her heart still beat. He uttered not a word. The canoe struck: they knew not what. There was no time to reflect. Thoir frail bark disappeared in an in- stant; and Ahtomah found himself at the mercy of the waves, with Adalie in his arms. But his presence of mind suf- fered no shock. He essayed to swim in the direction of the shore. IVice he mounted upon the top of the wave, and descended again into the hollow between the tum- bling seas. Another effort, and he felt the firm ground beneath his feet; but the sea, recoiling from the strand, swept him, with the maiden still in his arms, under the curve of the contrary wave, which with frightful crash broke over them. But they rose upon its head; and, they were now thrown so far upon the shore, that when the next sea re- coiled, they were left upon a ridge of solid rocks, beyond the reach of the merciless element with which the youth had striven. Ahtomah now secured his footing above the flow of the tide ; and, placing the unconscious Adalie upon the ground, he endeavoured to restore hfer senses, but his efforts wore in vain. The young warrior had not seen any of his red companions in peril, since the shock which had plunged them so sud- denly into the midat of the waves. But while ho was engaged in his endeavours to restore Adalie to her rooollection, the voice of Shahdac, as the aged warrior issued from the surge, reached his ear. The faithful attendant of Adalie now clung to the rock upon which Ahtomah stood: and ere the return of the wave, he was rescued unhurt by the young chief, and was in a moment, beside tne fair child for whom he suffered little less THE RED INDIANS OP NEWFOUNDLAND, 147 than a parent care. Another moment, and all the warriors stood beside their chief. Several of them had received slight wounds, by their contact with the rooks upon which they were thrown when tlieir canoe split, but the rest were unhurt. No situation could be imagined more destitute than that to which the young chief and his companions, with their fair charge, wtre now reduced. Their fanoe, upon which they rested all their hopes of escape, was dashed to atoms; and they stood upon a bare rock, exposed to the raging of the pitiless tempest, with- out means to guide them to a place of shelter from the elements, or of conceal- ment from their enemies, who were, perhaps, encamped in the immediate vicinity where they landed. But their young leader, who had been collected in the midst of the dangers they had abeady so miraculously escaped, suffered no dread to overcome his resolute mind, or subdue his hopes, notwithstanding the appa- rently insurmountable difficulties which surrounded them. While Ahtomah endeavoured to res- tore animation to the unconscious Adalie, the warriors collected some dry sea- weed that was at hand; and when they had procured fire, which they could at any time obtain by the collision of their tomahawks, or even by merely rubbing one handle against another, they col- lected some of the fragments of the birch bark of their canoe, that were driven on shore, of which they made torches. And now by the light of these, after contriving shades to cover every side except that immediately .before them, two of the party, that were not wounded, proceeded to examine the character of the rocks upon which they were thrown. And within a short dis- tance from where they had laiuled, they found clitts and craggy steeps, which, by the light of their torches they were able lo ascend. And they had not rciichcd many times a warrior's height above the level of the sea, before they found a shallow cave, which promised them tem- porary shelter. As soon as the discovery was nindo known to the chief, Ahtomah took in his arms the subject of their common inte- rest, and bore lier to this place of retreat; and when he hud placed her upon the dry rock, the warriors made a lire with roots and dried brauches of trees, which. they found left by the tide upon the shore; and as soon as they had well warmed the rook, they removed tlie fir«, and placed Adalie upon the spot on which It had been kindled. And now as the equal warmth extended to every part of the delicate frame which had yielded to the effects of cold and terror, the fair object of their care began to show symp- toms of returning animation; and in a short time she recovered her conscious- ness, and her recollection of all that had passed before they were plunged into the. raging sea. Wiih the restoration of her senses, the white maiden regained her fortitude, which had not abandoned her, before her bodily strength yielded to the effects of wet and cold; and when she looked around her, she was tempted to make inquiries relating to the circumstances of their escape, and concerning what had happened, since the moment, which was the last of her recollection. Ahtomah briefly informed her of all he thought it necessary she should know, with the accustomed modesty of an Indian warrior, when called upon to recount the particu- lars of any deed of valou: or skill in which he has been successfully en- gaged. The respect which, the warriors, now the immediate companions of Ahtomah had before entertained for the friend and future wife of their chief, had, during their common sufferings, grown into pure affection; so that, at this time, Adalie was almost as much an object of interest with the warriors with whom she was associated, as with their chief himself: and they no sooner perceived her senses returned, than they strove with each other in the performancre of every thing that might contribute to the restoration of her health — to the recovery of her, whom they had alternately looked upon, as of a race they abhorred, and as the messenger of the Deity whom they wor- shipped. The delicacy, the* tenderness, the for- titude of Adiilie. with the coutidenco she reposed in the skill of their chief, had sululiied their minds, and begotten a sen- timent within thi'ir bosoms, of a higher character than any they had over before entertained for on»> of tlie sex, the greatest ornaments of which, are not usually con- sidered among savages, as (it to form the companions or the friends of the warriors, nor ('a]>ul)ie, nor worthy, of »hnring in their confidence, their annisenn'iit.s, or even in the rites of worship which they practise. Such of the warriors, as had not been hurt in gaining the shore, flow went In search of the skins with which the canoe MS OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OP had been furnished, or themselves had cast off that they might be less encum* bered in the struggle they foresaw. And T^hen they had gathered such -as they iound thrown upon the rocks by the sea, they dried them at the blazing fire, and made the most (ielicate arrangements to enable the white maiden to put off her wet clothes, and cover herself with dry skins, and again to clothe herself in her own furs, in the manner she had been dressed before the destruction of their canoe. Adalie now soon recovered the full pos- session of her former confidence and forti- tude. Ahtomah sat beside h' and she slept at intervals during the night; while the warriors, by turns, kept their watch at the mouth of the cave, until day-light showed them their situation. They now found themselves upon a ledge of shelving rocks, which formed the base of stupendous cliffs indented with caverns. At intervals, there were basins of salt water into which the fresh streamlets from the rocks fell before the;' reached the sea. And in these they found shcll- f.ih sufficient io furnish them amply with food, whiyh tl;ey now began to require; for what they had remaining when the canoe was wrecked, had perished in the sea. When their young leader had now well observed the character of the shore, he invited the warriors to sit in informal council upon their affairs, and to deter- mine what steps they should take for their relief. Andafterabrief discussion, it was ''otermined, that one of their party, who should be selected by their leader, should leave the cave during the day, to endeavour to ascertain whether any of their enemies were encamped in the vicinity, and, if possible, to discover whether any birch trees were t6 be found, the bark of which they must obtain, before they could construct any descrip- tion of canoe that might carry them across the stormy strait. The warriors that were unhurt, all volunteered, with eagerness. But Ahto- mah, after some reflection, in which he considered, whether undertaking the contemplated enterprise himself might not express a want of confidence in his warriors, and whether it miglit not be politic to reserve himself for some occa- sion of greater moment, which might arise bef^r» they quitted the hostile shore, was at length confirmed in his determination; and he informed the war- riors of his intention to undertake the expedition himsslf, and alone. From the decision of the young chief there was no appeal. The act of ap- pointing, even an ordinary leader of a party, which was always by the edict of their common chief, invested him with indisputable and absolute power in all cases either of sudden emergency, or when the warriors could not be consulted, or when their councils were divided, and the parties equal. There could not, therefore, be here a dissentient voice. It was now full day. But before the sun appeared above the horizon, the young warrior took leave of Adalie at the mouth of the cave; and with the warmest caress> that Indian delicacy permitted, he a-s red her that she might entertain buL little doubts of seeing him again near her, before the sun could accomplish his day's journey, and the night again screen there from human view. He then rushed from her arms, and was, by the character of the 'ocks in a few moments hid from her si{^ .t. CHAPTER XLVHL " do not baniah reason For inequality: but let your reason serve To make the truth appear, where it seems hid." Meahurb for Meabubk. The opportunity which the last chapter afforded, of presenting the wild man, in the fairest light in which he might per- haps be seen, was readily embraced. We Y ive there beheld the influence of the smallest portion of knowledge over the sons of the desert, and the power of beauty, when adorned with such femi- nine excellence as its union with know- ledge and purity of heart might alone create. But it must be confessed, that if the more powerful component which mingled with the attributes of the savage mind, was capable of producing such fair fruit, it could not be pretended, without violating probability, that all that was evil, was swallowed up and lost in the new motive, whose effects upon the character and actions of the red men we have juf> seen. Remembering then the sad effects of fanatical zeal, the force of evil example, and the short time that had elapsed since the new impressions had been first made upon the ciiildren of Ottawah, we shall not wonder, that the young chief had not long departed, before the warriors fell into doubts concerning the causes of their misfortunes. Some of the darker spirits among them, attributed all their sufferings to the wrath of the evil spirit, who, olfended at the neglect of th« THE RED INDIANS OP NEWFOUNDLAND. 149 counsel and warnings of his seer, had taken advantage of their distance from the land over which the Good Spirit was known to exercise any certain influence, and pursued them with a determination whicn no human art cou!d circumvent, and no courage overcome. And there were others among them, who thought the delay of the sacrifice of the Micmac, or the negligence of which they had been guilty in suffering him to escape, had excited the anger of the Good Spirit, who had left them to the power of the demon, that had doomed them to worse tortures thtn \',hose which they had neg- lected to intili't upon their captured enemy. But there was one among them, of more experience and greater sagacity than the rest; and whose years alone entitled him to that respect which was never entirely forgotten by the younger warriors of the red tribe. He was a veteran, who counted nearly four times more snows in number than their ad- venturous leader; and he had spent the greater part of his life in his endeavours to favor the happier tenets, and suppo^'t the declining credit, of the seers of tho Good Angel. But he had been foremost, above all, in the maintenance of the authority of Ottawah ; and it had been in a great measure through his influence, that the mild sway of the father of Ahtomah, and his paternal care of his people, instead of loosening the bonds of obligation between the chief and his warriors, had been productive of deep- seated affection on the part of the red men for their ruler, and had been the mot*''o of such union as had existed among them, and the principal cause which had hitherto preserved them from utter extermination. Thie faithful ally of the better cause, becoming apprehensive, in case his com- panions should persist in their debate, that they might return to all their ancient prejudices, and enter . too freely into the discussion of the former question, concerning the eflReots of the entertain- ment of the white strangers, who seemed to sway the councils of their present chief by means with which his pnople were not fully ao(]uaintcd, or ooula not com- prehend, determined, if possible, to direct their thoughts into some channel less likely to be productive of evil. With this view, then, he began an eldress, by reminding them of the irregularity, and the indelicacy, of proceeding with 80 important a, debate as that in which they were engaged, in the absence of their leader, who was at all times en- titled, as their chief, to be present during any discussion concerning their com- mon interests. He then dwelt upon the bravery especially, of Ahtomah, and upon the devotion of the young chief to his tribe; both which qualities, he reminded them, were never more con- spicuous, and never more entitled their leader to the deference and regard of his companions, than in the very in- stance, which was at this time the cause of his absence. The veteran warrior, having now ob- served the favourable impression made by what he had already said, departed from his cool and argumentative style, as was customary with the orators of the red tribe when they had engaged the at- tention of their hearers, and appealed to a Eassion of their nature which he krew to e more powerful than any moral se ne of obedience due to their chief. And 'his wr 1 their hatred of their enemies, with the love of revenge which they cherished. Thus he declared it to be his impression, that an offering to th^" Great Spirit, was alone wanting, to avert the wrath of the demon; and that the sacriflce of one of those enemies, upon whose coast they had been thrown, which he thought it not im- possi- .e to effect, would be the most ac- ceptable offering to the author of good, that they could choose. " There are red men," added the vete- ran orator, " yet unavenged — red men Slaughtered by the Eskimohs. The plains of our own land are dyed with the olood of our friends. Red women sit at the feet of the chiefs of the Eskimohs. Not more than twelve moons have shone upon the country of the red tribe, since the quadruped allies of the demon left a whole camp of our people desolate. The Micmacs could have done no more. The spirits of red men walk in the darkness of the night, where they so late dwelt iu security. They were cut off by the ruthless hand of our enemies. Their bodies lie uninterred. ThL>^lair is white with their bones. Why ai" tliey not avenged? When shall their spirits escape to the happy country of shades, where, nor hunger, nor pain, shall any more be known?". Then, after a moment's pause the veteran warrior added with in'^reused emphasis: ' When, and when only, that red men shall have wiped away their dishonour— when the slaughter of their peof 'c is avenged. "Ine remedy for our misfortunes then, oh I warriors!" he continued, "is !l|| 150 OTTAWAH, THB LAST CHIEF OF the sacrifice of an Eskimoh. And how- to effect this, we niaj' learn upon the chiefs return. The Great Spirit is just • a single scalp may recommend you to his protection: a single sacrifice may serve to recover his favour. And shall wo then fall into doubts concerning the causes of our troubles? Ye know the history of your race. Ye cannot doubt the Great Spirit's care. Ye cannot question the justice of his laws. Ye cannot mistake the cause of your suffer- ings. Then, by these hairs which have become snow! By the bones of your fathers! By your just hatred of your enemies, and your love of your tribe — your love of your chief! And by your hopes of the favour of the Good Angel whom ye have served! Abandon all conjectures concerning our trials, and all suggestions concerning the future; and wait in confinence for the arrival of your leader — for the return of your chief — for his presence, who has already led you through dangers, amidst which, the Micmacs would have fainted, or had not dared to encounter. When you shall hear hia voice, all your doubts will dis- appear. We shall be of one mind, one heart, one arm: be it for action, or be it for rest." The appeal of the veteran was not in vain. The warriors were confounded by the new light thrown upon the causes of their troubles, or subdued by their respect for the white hairs of the speaker, witn their admiration of the virtues of their chief. Their doubts were already removed, and their rising anger turned aside; and an honest shame, which they could not disguise, was now uppermost in their minds. And now when the aged wan lor per- ceived the effects of his discourse, he proceeded to make his dispositions for the night. He placed a watch at the mouth of the cave; and bidding the rest of the warriors lie down, that they might take as much repose as possible, he determined, himself, to keep the fire during the remainder of the night, lest any thing should occur to renew the alarm which the white maiden, whom he nnw deemed under his more especial care, had exhibited dt^^ng the discussions that passed. CITAl^TER XLIX. •< It li war'i prli9 to take nil 'vantaKOi." Kino Henry VI. Thb anxiety of the aged warrior, and of Adalia and her more close attendant, during the remaining hours of Ahtomah'D absence was great. Shahdac, at intervals, left the side of the maiden to inquire of the warrior that kept the watch at tlie entrance of the cave, whether any indi- cations of the presence of man or beast had been heard, but no sound had reached his ear. Their suspense was not, however, of long duration; and about midnight, when the rest slept, Ahtomah, with the watch, suddenly entered the cave. Adalie sprang upon her feet, and embraced the chief. The aged warrior, who had been her protector during the absence of Ahtomah discovered no signs of surprise nor extraordinary joy : but his reserve was only the proof of his self-command; for rmong the Ked Indians, notwith- standing what we have seen, it was rather the exposure than • the possession of natural feelings which wj esteemed a mark of weakness that was unworthy of a warrior to exhibit. The warrior of the watch immediately awoke his companions from their sound slumber, and the forlorn party now gathered around their fire, to listen to their leader's account of his expedition, without testifying any surprise at his early return. Ahtomah was now seated amidst his people, and, after a short pause, he thus spoke: — " Warriors, and red men ! few words are necessary. The Eskimohs are near. They are numerous, but they sleep; they know not that a red man has been in their camp. Arise ! put on every warrior the arms he has preserved. "The canoe of an Eskimoh will supply our loss. But the fox rather than the wolf be in the breast of the red man. We shall have need of much art. The Eskimohs see bettor than the lynx by night; they have borrowed the ear of the wary seal; and their blood is as cold as the slimiest habitant of the deep. But the seal oft falls before the art of the fox, and the red man shall triumph. The night is fair, the wind hushfd, the sky propitious. The rocks shall echo with the harmless yells of the Eskimohs when the red men sweep in triumph over the heaving sea8. The eye of tlio Great Spirit will not look upon this land before the red men are beyond the arrows of their enemies." " And now," said the young warrior, in speaking apart to the white nif.iuen, as his companions prepared !or the expe- dition, " is thy fortitude such as it hath been, Adalie j or have the rude elements and otir protracted trials subdued thy THE RED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 151 firmness? Thou should'st have the cou- rage of a warrior, to endure what thou hast endured. Be but to-night, what thou wast in the mountain, and, before the eye of day again hide his bright light from the world, thou shalt once more embr9s aud judgment of Ahtomah. The w aite maiden had spoken little, but what she had said ht \ been of a tendency to strengthen the confidence and confirm the faith of the warriors, in the watch- ful oaro and certain influence of their guardian Spirit over a)l their affairs. She encouraged thom U> believe, that the patron of their tribe observed their dis- tress from above the clouds, and that he would enable the chief, effectually to direct their efforts and make the best advantage of their force: and it was their confidence in the divine favour which they believed their leader enjoyed, that had enabled Ahtomah to strike the blow which had saved them from the flames of their enemy's fires, and given them the prospect of a speedy restoration to the arms of their friends and the security of their own camp. But now that the danger so long imminent, seemed past, Adalie was not able to suppress the expression of her hopes and her joy. She congratulated the warriors with her natural tenderness, upon the results of their anxious efforts for their common preservation; and as the tears started from her eyes, it seemed as if they extinguished every savage sentiment in the breasts of the wild men, and opened the hearts and understandings of the warriors to comprehend true heroism, and to receive impressions, of which none is more capable than the brave and generous native of the woods. And tlius the red men, impressed at once by the simplicity and natural grace with which the white maiden spoke, and with the truth of all she proclaimed con- cerning the guardian care of the Spirit which they worshipped seemed to see but stronger and stronger evidence of tho divine origin of their delicate companion in peril, and the virtue of the intended union of their leader with the daughter of the race unknown. To Ahtomah the maiden said little: but the indirect praises of their chief in delicate reference to the success of his measures, when she addressed his com- panions, a thousand times overpaid the young warrior for all the anxiety he had experienced during the course of the difficulties and trials through which they had passed. But while the red men and the white maiden indulged their complacent joy, a thick mist avose out of the south, and soon covered the face of the heavens. They were now about midway between the bleak hills of the Eskimoh country, and their native island, with no guide but tlic direction of the uncertain wind, and that of the heaving waves, to keep their course towards the land. But they continued their efforts with 166 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OP unremitting toil, until the wind, which had hitherto favoured them, gradually died away, and it became so calm that there was nothing now left but the swell of the sea to guide them. It was, however, not long before the rain fell in torrents, and the sea was com- pletely beaten down. Or, if any swell remained, it was at least too irregular to serve any longer to direct their course. Nevertheless, the rain, as was well known to the warriors, was usually prognostic of the approach of a north-west wind, which was best calculated to aid their endeavours. And now Ahtomah who suf- fered the efforts of the warriors in their state of uncertainty to relax, directed their attention to this favourable omen, and encouraged the expectation of his being soon again enabled to determine with certainty, the proper direction for the exertion of all their force. The rain continued. But a light breeze soon arose; and, as the red men doubted not the quarter of heaven from which it blew, they again spread their sail, while at the same time they exerted all their efforts with the paddle. The wind increased; and the clouds now poured down their contents in streams. But the deluge was of short duration ; and as the rain abated, the day became lighter. The clouds were now broken; and, as the warriors watched their motion, the sun suddenly darted his red beams upon the waters beneath the vapours which still veiled the full glory of his evening rays; and the wind, which proved to be from the quarter of heaven which gave them the favourable gales foretold by Ahtomah, now began to raise the dark curtain of mist which had covered the sky, until the clear disk of the great orb of light again gladdened the hearts of the warriors, and seemed to assure the happy termination of their anxieties and their toils. The north-western breeze now grad- ually lifted the watery covering from the sky; and the bright arch of the firma- ment grew larger and larger, until it discovered one half of the clear heaven. The mists now rapidly passed to the south; and as they became more and more distant, they seemed to form themselves into clouds, at every altitude, and of every form and shade, from the dense and dark vapours which obscured the land from view, to the silvery mists, which seemed like the link that connected the lower with the higher world. " The vapoury seest," said mountains which thou now seest," saia Ahtomah, addressing himself to Adalie, "indicate the sub- stantial element beneath them. They rest upon the native hills of the red tribe. Adalie will soon embrace her father. The Lord of the Mountain shall welcome our return." As the red men and their chief, and Adalie, continued to contemplate the scene before them, the mountain tops, and dark hills of the land of red men began to appear among the clouds, as, divided and irregular, they confounded their solid masses with the unsubstantial vapours which still concealed their bases from view. But as the mists still passed towards the east, the lesser hills gradually ap- peared to the gratified sight of the red men, in all the beauty and reality of the substantial and firm earth. The mountain land was now visible from its summit to its base; and as the beams of the setting sun began to render every object more distinct to the view, the red men plainly recognised the well known coast of their native island. As they continued their course, Ahto- mah raised Adalie from her reclining position at the bottom of the canoe; and as he seated the delighted maiden by his side, he pointed out to her the very hills which they had trodden together, and behind which their people were en- camped. But the joy of Adalie, as she fixed her eyes upon the land, was not unmixed with apprehensions for the con- sequences of the anxiety which she knew her father must have suffered during her absence. The reflections of Ahtomah were scarcely less painful than those of Adalie. He not only felt great apprehensions regarding the safety of those of his companions in the expedition under his command, from whom he had been so painfully separated on the day of their embarkation, but he had great reason to fear, even, should they all have safely reached the camp, that the myrmidons of the evil seer, taking advantage of his absence, might have raised disturbances and discontent among the red men, which, howevci unsuccessful in the main design, would render the tribe, for the time, entirely defenceless, in the event of an attack from the Micmacs. But though the joy of Ahtomah and Adalie was qualified by these anxious doubts, neither the one nor the other was willing to mix the cup of care or apprehension, which each partook alone, the THK BED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 157 rejoicing, prospects with the common causes of which their escape and their demanded. The falling orb, now dropped beneath the horizon ; and as the light faded gra- dually away, the stars began to appear in the opposite quarter of heaven; and, as the darkness overcame the last efforts of the departing day, the number of the brilliant fires increased, until the whole .irmament was spangled wfth its mysterious lights. The red men steadily continued their course, until they came near the land. The)' now kept along the shore by the light of the stars, until they plainly dis- tinguished the rock on which Ahtomah and Adalie had sometimes sat and con- templated the vast sheet of water, T^'hich, when the winds ruffled not its surface, like a mighty mirror, reflected the images of the winged creatures that hovered in the air, or the fleeting clouds that tem- pered the clear azure of the autumnal sky. Thev still proceeded along the shore, until they came to a well known ledge of rocks, where ttiey landed; and having placed theircanoe in safety, they ascended the craggy cliffs, until they reached the summit, which overlooked the plain of the encampment. But the stars afforded not sufficient light to discover the wig- wams of their people, nor did the flame of any fires, c^uicken their expectation, or indicate their way. They now commenced the descent towards the plain, in deep silence. The mingled feelings of hope and of dread of the effects of their absence on her parent, which Adalie experienced, seemed to have subdued all her fortitude; and her condition needed the support of Ahtomah. But their suspense was not of long duration. As they approached the camp, they thought they perceived an upright human figure, which seemed unsupported and alone. It might be that of a scout; but why thus exposed; why insensible of their approach. The heart of the maiden was full. " Who is it," said Ahtomah, " that thus standest in our path ? Is it a red man that rests thus, a mark for the arrows of a prowling Micmac ; or, is it but a shadow that we see — the shade of a warrior un- revenged — a spirit invulnerable, and, alike beyond the power of the elements, and of the scalping knife and the toma- hawk of the Micmac? Speak! Thou should'st be a warrior of the red tribe. Answer me! It is the son of Ottawah who calls." The figure moved towards the chief; and, in approaching, demanded with quick speech but a faint and broken voice, "Does Adalie live?" The tremulous accent caught the apt ear of the maiden. She recognised the well-known voice ; and starting from the arms of Ahtomah, she was in a moment in the bosom of her father. Ahtomah, almost at the same moment, recognised the voice of an aged warrior who was near the white man; and their happiness seemed complete, when they learned that every soul of the party that the young chief had commanded when he set out on the expedition, had returned to the camp on the very night of the day on which they had been separated from their leader. The glad party, with light step, now turned their faces towards the encamp- ment; and as they approached the wig- wams, the tried companions of Ahtomah dispersed to join their several friends, of whom none were absent, except such as had been dispatched in search oi the party now arrived. The young chief of the red men and Adalie, led by the white man, now entered the wigwam which had been occupied by the father of Adalie during their aosence, where, the kindness of the inmates of her own sex, soon restored the white maiden to her wonted equanimity: and the fair object of the young chiefs interest, seemed at once to recover the waste of bodily strength she had experienced, dur- ing the trials to which she had been ex- posed. As the night was now well advacced, it was no time for the father of Adalie to listen to the adventures of his child and her protector, with the warriors that had equally partaken of their perils. It was enough, that the chief and the warriors were restored to their country, and Adalie to the arms of her father. Aiid, it beine determined that the relation of their ad- ventures should be deferred until the fol- lowing day, the tenants of the wigwam, severally retired to their separate apart- ments, and were soon aU buried in sleep. CHAPTER LI. 'The choice, being mutual act of all our loiila, Makes merit her election." TR0II.U8 AND CBBSSIPA. On the morning after the day which suc- ceeded that of the return of the young chief and his chosen companions, after their perilous adventures aud hair-brc&dth escapes beyond the great strait, the re d 1S8 OTTAWAH. THE LAST CHIKP OK men mel in their temporary council-house, with all the form and pomp with which they were wont at any tiuu« to assemble. The motive of their uresent meeting, was, formally to acknowledge the title of Ah- tomah to the sovereignty of the tribe, and to invest iheir young chief, with such aa- thority as might enable the warriors to concert some plan of future aggression or defence for the general safety, before the departure of the chiefs of tl»e northern villages, who had come to iissist ut the Bolemnities which aecomimnieil the inhu- mation of their deceased sovereign. The whole camp was already in posses- sion of all the particulars of what the adven- turers had experienced. For, while the father of Adalie had been listening to his fond child's account of the exploits of the young chief, by which they had overcome so many diHlculties, and escaped so niauy dangers, the warriors around their several fires, had heard from the companions of Ahtomah, yet more full details, as well of their odventunis, as of the surprising skill and courage which their youthful leader had displayed: and thus, the spirit in which they were prepared to meet tnoir obief, was that of admiration of his virtue, and confidence in the futurt>, not unmin- f[led with the remembrance of their late lAso, »nd of pious gratitude to the Gi*eat Spirit, for his signal favour, in the pre- servation of the chief and his companions, amidst all the perils through which they bad passed. The ceremony which attended the in- vestiture of the successor of Ottawah with the authority of his fathers, was simple, but not less necessary than the rites that ac^iNm)|mnied the solemn leave which they had taken of their aged and beloved chief. It consisted in tiie mer» Mst of the party who assumed the autho- rity, taking possession, in the presence of the warriors, of the national external ensigns of power; anil these were thu efl'ecla of the deceased i-hief, with, espe- oiolly, some weapons of war which hod been the pro|M>r(y uf tlto rulers of the tribe, fWm a period too remote for even tradition, the only record of the transac- tions of savages, to associate with any incidents that were worthy of credit. As Ahtomali entered the spiicinus hull, thewarriors were seated on all sides uround, armed and dccorntetl, every one with all the trophies of war and the ciiuNe which hepuuesstttl. But upon the raisetl ((round, which was always occupied by the chief when present, generally supported by several of the more ag«d of the seers and worriori, now sal oiuy the most aged warrior of the tribe, who wa^ by imme- morial custom entitled to perform the duties which the red men were now assem- bled to confirm. The veteran who here awaited the approach of the successor o( Ottawah, was the same bold supporter of the young chief, that with equal art and patri>>lism, had stified the very first symptoms of discontent or doubt, which manifested themselves among the warriors in the cave, during the short absence uf the chief upon the last night of the sojtturn of the party upon the Eskimoh shore. All eyes were now lient upon the young warrior, as he marched towanls the place which he was presently to Ih» entitled to iK'capy, when it was his will, alone; and such was the inward satisfaction that n\iis universally felt, that distinct sounds ot approbation reached the ears of Ahtomah, that the warriors themselves, struck with etpuil adiniraiioM and respect, wem per- haps unconscious had escaped th;*iu. As Ahtomah sieppt'd upon tho raised ground, the most aged wurrinr arose, and in behalf of the tribe, in taciturn form, presented to the succ«'ssor of Ottawah, an ancient spear alone, of all the efl'ects and weapons of the deceased chief, as tlie ensign of the i)roj)erty and power, which by consent ot the warriors now passed into his hands. The yoiilhful chi«'f ha>iiig betn thus put in prevailed — that resptH'tful silence which wus the highest mark of approbation, that the Ued Indians ever bestowed, was now ]irtiperly in pi>s- session of all the p«iwer ever enjoyed by any chief of the trilie. 'rhe brief as simple certMnony thus accoinplislied, the most aged \tarrii>r s(ep|MMl from the raised ground, to minf^le with the people still seated around the hail: and as the tried frieiul of the cliief withdrew, Ahtomah turned to regard his |H>ople, and remained for u short tin.t) silent. And now the more lively satisfaction of the warriors was niipareul. Kvery coiiiitenance licspoUe reelings ot hope in tho happy and successl'nl rule of Ahtonuth, and the ipiick fiiltilincnt of the |U'tiphecieM eoucerning the regeneration of the tribe, which, indeed, appeared already hall accomplished. Even the defection of the evil seer, and the captors of the Miciuac, which might at another lime have "hecked, or thrown u damp upon, their joy, and lessened lh«ii' THE RED INDIANS OP NKWPOUNDLAXD. 159 confiih'nof, was now only renieinborcd to pivp tho ji;roat»'r I'tVicl l<> llut pn-vuilinj" opinions concerninff tho prinhetions with which the fact siH-nioi' ussoi-iutotl. The sui'i-ossor of Ottawuli, now invitoil his prini-ipikl warrior."* ami sot-rs, to sup- port liim on the ri^lit Iniml ami on the lel't : anil as soon as these hail taken their phifes in the order of seniority', Ite pro- eeedeil to uddrtiss the warriors upon the suhjeet at all times npjH'nnost in their minds. " Bravo remnant of the red race," said tho vonng fhief, "Oitawah, the j^reat and tho u;ood, Ottawah, whom we lament, i\ow r»'if;ns where your fathers hunt, imdcr the perpetual beams i>f the sun. We may miuirn no longer. Tii'> time for aetinn is at hand. The IJieat Spirit Inis not spoken in \ain. Thu ancient projihei'v is even now upon the point of hein^ fidtillid. Was it not said by your ajjed seer.i of ihi> generation that is past, ami, .since a lime of more snows than can be numbered, that, at tluit day, when the i nemies of the pood anjfel amon^ you, shitll unite with tlie enemies of reil men and tlic children of the e\il spirit, and when unstained blood shall How in Noluniary olVeriufj to the (Jreat Spirit, while the chief of red n\en tran- quilly .sleeps, tlu'U the patron spirit of your tribe shall be us a warrior amon^ you, ami the day at hand, when ihe (Jreat Spirit will rt'store Ids |M>oplu to (heir ancient territory and power?'' Nothing could e.Kceeil the impression which the woriis of Ahlonuth, now for- nnilly invehte«l with authority, seemed to nutkti upon his people; and when the younjj warrior perceived the eH'ectH of whiii he hud already said, in raising; hia \oJcii h(> continued : " lleh(dd! who hath .seen the e\il seer? Where is tiu' adviN-ate of the demtui ; the raven iipou whose f^uiliy toufjue sits falsehood and ^ude; and whose bosom conceuls the heart of the voraciouh wolf? " The youni; chief Iutc iiaused; and when none answered, In- atlded: " Ami who huih not seen ihi> flow of imuicent blood, by (he side ofOKuwah slee|iin^? Ihil ul>o\eull; who is it (hat now counsels the red i-hief? Wlui i«, it that spreads his nntt by the side of thai, of the successor of Oflawah? " Noni' replied. " Need ye be remn.dcd. ihon," said AhtoiiiBh, in a mor«' sul>diied ioni», "that lhii evil seer and enemy of the j^ood nn^v\ is in the camp of tl»e Micmaos, with the warriors whom hesediicod, plottmn means of venf^rnnce aKainsl the children of his fathers. Yet should we rejoice — not mourn— at his departure from lunongua." •• And need ye Ik- told," then he eon- tinned, " that themassnore of Manamana was tho sacritico more darkly hinteil at in the prophecy? The virgin spirit of tho red inaid<>n was, indeed, the oftering to appease ihe angel of tho (lood Spirit; while the chief, whom we have interred, indeed but sleeps; for Ottawah still lives amonir you in his race. His spirit still survives." " iitit, above all," now said the young chief, w ith a solemn tone and oonAdent air, " in the Lord of the Mountain, ye behold the patron of the reil tribe, the representative of the tJood Spirit. He is the messenger of the consolation, and the hopes which the guardian angel hath sent to his depressed people." iiut in Ihe midst of this propitious scene, and the hap]>y pros|>eot ol una- nimity, which the attention and silence of the warriors seemed to ensure, and while the chief yet spoke, a shriek, at:- eompanioaking. Ami as the warriors at hi«oominaud now poured from the hall, th^ perceived their wives rushing towards them, as if they were dying from a pursuing enemy. There ne<*ded not words to explain the cause of their fear. A sciuit was seen descend- ing tho western hill at his utmost s)NN9d, and hia dumb gestures which he made at intervals, too plainly spoke the nature of till* danger. Ahtomah first eoinmandtxl that the W(unen should enter the hall; and as his command was oheyetl, betook his station at the head of his warriors, and all now in breathless silence, awaiti*d the arrival of tho scout. (•HAPTEU UI, " Tht' n«wi 1 brlnK, U heavy on mi)' loniue." Taouis »Nii OaissiD*. " If you w»ru liorn to hiiiior, iltnw II iiuw ; ir |i\il upon jrou iiiitki< ihii JiiilKinenl good Tlisi thou(ht yuu wurlliy uf tl." I'saicLss. Aktkb the period so sudd«>nly nut to the pn.cei'dings of the red men in the coiincil-hnll, upon the assumption of the successor of Ottawah of tho nuthnritjr of his fathers, the warriors waited in calm expectation for the arrivril of the scout that alreaily appeared in view of the red iMicampment. Hut a short time elapsed Utfore thn herald of alarm stood iH'fore the chief. 160 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OP He remained for several minutes without spenking; whether that he might intro- duce his tidings with the expressive exordium of silence, or that he might show his contempt of the danger of which he would not conceal the amount. Then, deliberately, he thus addressed the attentive expectants of his report. " Bravo chief, and brother warriors of the red tribe," now said the scout, " the enemy lurks within the precincts of the camp. The Micmacs have eluded the vigilance of our watch. They crouch unobserved among the shrubs of the plain. Their force is unknown." Ahtomah's heart now bounded with exultation. He could not repress its emotions. His quick eye compassed the extensive vale, or glanced from hill to hill, but nothing appeared in motion, amidst the wildness and desolation of the surrounding scene. It was the first hour of his proper authority, and was to be the first trial of his skill, in the neces- sary art and high qualifications of a leader, in checking tne enthusiasm, as well as directing the course of his own and his people's wrought passions, and native energy and courage. The first precaution of the young chief, was to send out fresh scouts, to examine well the character of the trail, wherever it might be found, in the hope of discovering the number of the lurking enemy. His next act, was to place a strong guard upon the council-house, to which Adalie and her attendants and all the women had been consigned. The few old men and boys that were still among them, were then stationed in such positions as might enable them to give the earliest notice of any sudden attack upon the asylum of the women, while the warriors might have their attention distracted by any pressing emer- gency at a distance from the centre of the encampment. The more ^ractietul warriors, whom the young chief himself headed, with the father of Adalie by his side, were held in reserve. The younger and more ardent spirits, were kept in readiness to scour the plain; and vot with such methodical dispositions, that in the event of any direct attack upon their proper camp, tliey might bo enabled to fall upon the enemy's rear, and, should he not DO in great numbers, pt'rha;)8 make his whole piirty anensy prey. All the warriors were struck with the ability and prudent dispositions of their young chiefi and their confidence in his judgment was only equalled by tht-ir admiration of his enthusiasm, and their eagerness for the occasion of proving their fidelity. All that had been done, was not only effected without confusion, but without even the appearance of war- like dispositions ; and, if seen from the hills, would probably attract no such notice as to lead the enemy to suspect that his presence was discovered. As the sun went down, he arrange- ments were complete; and t very warrior prepared himself with as much alacrity ana energy, as if the salvation of the tribe depended upon his single arm : and, when darkness had spread her impene- trable veil over the plain, silence, with the absence of any indication of alarm, could not have been more profound, than that which now reignea within and without the camp of the red tribe. The red men were no sooner thus screened from all possible observation, than the young chief, at the head of his chosen body of practised warriors, took up his position under the cover of a grove of shrubby spruces, in advance, and in the most exposed quarter of the camp, while the scouring parties dispersed u\ their several appointed directitms upon the open plain. The white guest of Ahtomah, though dispirited by the late events, and disap- pointed at the slow progress of his measures, had not yet lost all his former confidence in the event of his supposed mission. But such was the hatred of the red tribe to the Micmacs, and such their enthusiasm and desire for action since the chief authority had devolved upon Ahtomah, that he plainly perceived that the time was not favourable for the exercise of his moral influence, in the [n'omulgation of the divine laws which 10 himself obeyed. The state of advancement which his system of new faith had attained, was like that of every human or divine insti- tution, when in the socoiul stage of its progress. It now posses-sed neither great novtilty, nor the startling effects of super- natural intervention: neither hud its truth nor its utility undergone the onlciil of rational investiuation. The princi()le was established, the germ of the future tree set; but it renuiined to reason, like the element t which nourish vegeliition, to fertilize the moral soil, and wiih Ih" breath of truth, and the i)ower uf con- • ictioii, to confirm the growth of the weak and tender siniling that seemed so happily planted. 'Ihus, the white man was now an observer, rather than an actor, in thi^ passing transuetions «if the camp. r proving een done, confusion, !e of war- from the no such ^o suspect d. arrange- y warrior h alacrity on of the arm: and, r impene- ?nce, with of alarm, )und, than ithin and ibe, )ner thus )servation, ead of his •iors, took over of a vance, and the camp, spersed u\ ions upon h, though and disap- as of his his former supposed hatred of and such "or action devolved perceived e for the in ttie ws which Inch his ined, wiis iiu' insti- fiv of its u'r great of super- had its le ordciil principle le future son, like gctiition, with tl)'> r ttf I'ou- of the enu'd so lite niiiu than an ns of the THK KKO INDIANS OF NEWFODNDLAND. 161 In the council-hall, the scene was not so calm as without: and Adalie passed the time in as vain attempts to subdue her own fears, as ineffectual efforts to console the weeping wives of the warriors. CHAPTER LIII, " Honourable retreats are no ways Inferior to brave chargeii; as having less of fortune, more of discipline, and as much of valour." Bacon. The remainder of the day of the sud- den alarm which pnt an end to the deli- berations of the red men, and gave occa- sion for the first display of the energies and abilities of their young chief, to meet the dangers which threatened his people, passed without any new alarm, or the arrival of any further intelligence con- cerning the force or the movements of the enemy. It was now near midnight; and al- though the sky was obscured, the ele- ments were at rest; and since the day closed, not so much as the breathing of a warrior had been heard among the red men that were posted with their chief; nor had the voice or foot-step of any beast of the forest disturbed the death- like silence that reigned. Neither was there any exception to the profound slumber tnat all nature seemed to par- take, save now and then, that a few fallen leaves were driven by the partial and light currents of air, over the barren places between the patches of ground spruce, or the groves of stunted white birch and spruce trees which grew at in- tervals throughout the plain, and, that occasionally, the dark curtain which obscured the heavens, opened and exhi- bited a few stars, over which the upper rack passed with a swiftness which seemed to justify anticipation of a change. It was now passed midnight, as the chosen band oi veteran warriors with their chief, lay, amidst the silence and the darkness, stretched at their full lengths upon the ground, and while the keenest sense of the most practised among them, was not able to perceive any evidence of the presence of either friend or foe, whether human or brute, or far or near, when Ahtomah, bj a touch with his bow, made a sign to a warrior that lay near him, to direct him to place his ear to the ground, and re- port what ho might chance to hear. " I hear nothing," said the warrior, as he crept towards the chief, after holding each ear by turns to the ground. 21 a footstep," said now cautiously Pass the prepare. We " I distinctly hear Ahtomnh. " Creep across the hillock in our front word, that the warriors should carry more scalps than deer skins to Ortawee. If any warrior distinguish so much as the sound of a mole in bur- rowing beneath the earth, let him report what he hears." But it was not long before Ahtomah perceived that it was not the step of a foe that he had heard ; and several of the more experienced of the red men, who were presently beside their chief, now agreed, that though a step was plainly distin- guishable, it was that of a singlo warrior only, and that it was too bold, too confi- dent, for the foot of a wily Micmac, lurk- ing for scalps. " It is the step," said the chief, " of one assured of the preftnce of friends. Ob- serve! he walks upright: and now you hear him not. He perhaps suspects that a prowling Micmac may be areong these bushes ; or ho may fear being mistaken by his friends for an enomj' of their race. He moves again, and now !iis ear is against the ground. He has perhaps per- ceived us, and awaits the concarted sign. Let not a warrior move. I will apprise him of our presence." Ahtomah, with the handle of his toraa- hawk,then several times gently tapped the ground; and now the quick and firm step of a warrior approaching, ])roved the correctness of his perceptior. It was, indeed, a red man, and the warrior of ap- proved vigilance and accurate observa- tion, whom the scouring parlies obeyed. He was in a moment in the riidst of the companions of the red chief. And now, in neglecting to observe ii period of silence before he commenc'd to speak, which was a custom chiefly used in larger assemblies on occasions wh an the intel- ligence was fearful, and thd fortitude of the red men was about tc be tried, or when some coucealniont of the extent of the danger was necessary, he abruptly, and in brief languiige, first •onfirmed the former reports. Then ho informed the attent warriors, that the enemy r.ow in the plain, was not a mere liunting party, but a power that was fiifficient, had they foimd the red men mpropared, to have ov«'rwhelmed, and per naps cfestroyed their whole force at ona fe 1 swoop. " We have been,' said the vigilant warrior, " upon many trails. The skulk- ing imps are without nui ibor, but they are divided. We have hovered about their retreats, favoured by our knowledge of the ground, undiscovored. One party ]t. Hi V 16t OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OF may be scalped; but should the day break on the red men where they now Uej who can say that a warrior shall witness the set of another sun. The Micmacs prepare to destroy our camp — to exterminate the red people. What says our ch'ef, and the bravest of his warriors, and the wisest of his counsel- lors in the hour of peril?'' The time admitted but of brief di^li- beration. Ahtomah bade the eldest among his counsellors, first spealc freely his opinion. The veteran warrior hesitated but a brief moment, then proceeded to obey the chief. " There seems then," said the firm counsellor of the young chief, "but one course to pui'sue, to preserve the vchI name." " To slaughter the fiends as they sleep," exclaimed a middle aged, andnioro impatient warrior. " Even to fly— they sleep not— to pass the mountains — " replied the elder in a firm tone. The warriors, fired by the first propo- sition, notwithstanding their accustomed respect to age, with difficulty kept tlioir seats upon the ground. But the silence of the young chief, which indicated as little impatience as fear, was alone suf- Qcient to restrain any too precipitate action on the part of his people. *' If ye determine to die," tiien said the elder of the red men who had spoken, " the father of twenty warriors, of whom the greater part have already fallen by the hands of the Micmacs, will not for- sake his post, nor survive his companions in arms. But if ye determine to destroy your enemies and live, listen to the coun- sels of age. Act with the wisdom of your fathers; and employ but the sagacity, to elude your enemies, that your enemies practise to ensnan^ you. Let us make use of our knowledge of the country, and retire with our women behind the moun- tains cm the opposite side of the vale, where the passes may be easily guarded, until we can receive the succour of such of the red race as still dwell in the valleys beyond the hills. . "Will any warrior," then added the firm counsellor of Ahtomah, "answer? Or will the chief now make known his desire, and issue his commands? My opinion is pnmounced." And now, no other warrior attempting to reply, the young chief procecdi'd to ffive his reasons why he would not follow tne advice of either of his people who had spoken. " The counsel of the ^v;arrior," said Ahtomah, " who is for instant vengeance and open battle, is most congenial to the feelings of red men, inflamed by the in- sults of their insatiable enemies; but the part of the dtsiendant of your ancient chiefs, is not to follow the blind sugges- tions of passion, unrestrained by pru- dence, and unguided by reason. The counsel of the ehlcr warrior is wise, and well becoming a red man practised in war, and acquainted with the arts of the Micmacs; but there are objections against passing the mountains — objections, which, had they not, in the all-pervading feeling of the moment, cscapea that sagacious warrior's recollection, would hrve led to suggestions less tending to tarnish the houour of the red name. " Warriors!" then exclaimed Ahtomah, witli augiuonted energy, "the ashes of Oltawiih lie on this side the hills. Who sliull ascend the mountains, while all that is sacred to the red tribe remains within the vale. Our stand must be in the grove that covers the sepulchre of the lat;; chief of rod men." The virtues, the misfortunes, the wrongs and death, of Ottawah, which had M endeared his memory to his surviving people, all now rotiu'nod with their full force upon the feelings of the companions of Ahtomah, while the sort of consecra- tit)n which th(! new sepulchre of their chici's hiid so lately undergone, had strongly impressed upon the minds of the warriors, the sacredness of the charge with whi(!h they were persuaded the Great Spirit had entrusted them. Thus, the eflect of Ahtomah's speech. was great and instantaneous. Every warrior quickly caught the enthusiasm of the chi'f; and, in low accents, all uttered their brief expressions of entire devotion, with assurances nf their dnfor- minalion to perish before the sepulchral cave, "rtther than that the ashes of their late chief shDuld be dishonoured, and the sepulchre deHlcd by the spoliation which woulil follow the capture of the sacred receptndi! hy their hated enemies. The feeling was indeed unanimous. The moans of gaining the grove of the sepulchre, was now hastily discussed; and it was decided, that as many of the scours as could be collected, should make good the way, and that the whole body of the warriors hhould then move forward in the same direction, accompanied by the wo- men and the old men; and having arrived, that they should make such dispositions of their forces as might be deemed the best calculated to defeat the designs of THE BED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 163 their wily enemies, whose attempts to surprise them they felt they had already sO signally defeated. No delay could be hazarded. Tiie scouts were u">patohed, and the warriors were collected ; and, with the chief at their head, the whole camp, with all the ' d men and the women, was quickly in mo- tion, and on the way towards the grove. As the object of the red men was nei- ther determined (light norpursuir, they ob- served but few precautions tt) conceal their movements. They were careless whether they left the trail of a small or numerous party behind them, well knowing that the seer and his myrmidons, though they should not be with the Micmacs, had at least possessed the enemies of their race, with all the particulars regarding their strength, as well as with every sort of in- formation that might tend to the destruc- tion of the tribe. After the scouts, who carried to. les which they had now prepared, followed a small party of the most ])ractised war- riors, headed by their chief. Then came the main parly in vwo double tiles; and between these marched the women, bearing every one such portable articles of camp furniture, as they were; accustomed to transport, while the rear was guarded by a strong part\', commanded by the war- rior whoso prudence or monuMitary for- getfulness, in his anxiety for the salvation, of the remnant of his tribe, and not liis fear, had caused him to overlook trie im- portant object of preserving tht; ashes of their late chief undisturbed. The very arrangement of (heir forces for the order of march which tliey now pursued, so simple, yet so complete, still strengthened the confidence of tlu! warriors in the skill of their chief, who in his turn was filled with admiration of tiie devotinn of his people, as in silent confidence lliey performed all the movements wiiich lie 1)lanned; and all entertained san';;uine lopes of the success of their united en- deavours. It was impossible that any attack, dur- ing the hours of darkness, could t>reiilly disconcert the red nuMi. .\nd in this security tlu^y proceeded mitil they arrived at the grove of the .sepul- chre, without encountering any enemy, save a few wolves, which seemed by their tones of defiance determined to dispute the passitge of a shallow stream. But these tied lidwliug, the monuitt a torch was displayed by their natnriil foes, who were unwilling to combat the nu)st artful enemy of urn, .*ave his opponent of his own species, under the cover of night. CHAPTER LIV. " When virtue droops, as comforts fail, And sore ntflictions press tlie mind. Swept liope prolongs tier pleasing taj«, Till all the world again looks kind : Round the good man's dying bed, Were the wreck of nature spread, Hope would set his spirit free. Crying—" Imraortality I'' MONTOOMERT. As the red men reached the grove in which they had determined to make their final stand, the stars were fast losing their lustre; and as the sun gradually changed the pale li^ht in the eastern sky, to the colour of his beams, and the lesser lumi- naries disappeared, every thing indicated the approach of a bright and hopeful day. The auspir^ions signs were noi. unheeded by the companions of the young chief: and by the time that the countenances cif the warriors could be distinguished, the complete disposition of all the forces' was planned, and the red men were actively engiiged in constructing the defences, un- der the immediate direction of their yput^- ful leader. The first labour of the warrior^ for t|iG establishment of their security, was ^o cut down as numy of the larger birches as their rude implements enabled them to fell, within the spnoe of time whict\ the necessary dispatch prescribed; and'\vith these, \yithont lopping their branclie|, tliey formed a kind of outer-work imm^- (iiately within the grove, which plight ]jiot be tajvcn without great loss on the part'pf the assailants, who could ^lot appro^c|i the wood, when this was completcif, with- out exposing themselves to the arrows of their (iovered enemies, which, in the ordi- nary warfare of stiyages, is rarely, or neycr hazarded. JJut before the sun set, a 9Q- cond and closer defence was formed im- mediately within the imt-works, by a wall of felled spruces, laid in the form of a crescent, the extremities of whlcli<\butifi(l upon impregnablo steeps. Nothing could exceed the enthusiasm which prevailed. The entire day of their arrival in the grove, had been ocoupicjd by the warriors in the necessary |oiI;aud during their labonrs they experienced no obstruction; nor up to the close q\ iho day, the smallest alarm. 'rius warriors were now posted jn(^i- eiously behind the lino of the (Jc- fences; and the women were at onco con- signed to the gloomy vauj^ whnt the components of which the passion that compasses all the rapt joys of which hu- mnnity is susceptible or miiy entertain. was suffered to be lighted, and the war- rior and his wife became one: and the son of Ottawah was as much impressed with the virtue, as with the necessity in his case, of the most rigid observance of this ancient custom.'*' The position of the father of Adalie was much changed, since the earlier days of his sojourn among the red people. The events which took place durmg the absence of Ahtomah and Adalie, before the death of Ottawah, with the more familiar intercourse between the warriors and their instructor, which was inciden- tal to the time, had interrupted the pro- gress of the Christian's necessary influ- ence, over the minds of the savage com- patriots of their more humanized chief, for the attainment of his great ends. Distrustful at all times of the perma- nence of power obtained by the indirect means which his relations to the red Eeople at tlie earlier part of his career ad forced him to employ, the white man now took every opportunity to augment his influence by such legitimate and direct nieauf as time could not weaken* The most efficient of those which he eiu- ployed, arose from some knowledge of medicine that he happily possessed, and which he nowemployea ma manner rather adapted to secure his power through the affection and respect of the children of Ottawah, than to increase the mystery which appertained to his character; but he had even made a step towards in- structing his associates in the peaceful art of agriculture, which he trusted, when the time permitted would equally aid his endeavours to accjuire a more lasting in- fluence over the minds of the warriors, than any he might obtain by the promul- gation of knowledge unsupported byappa- rentpracticalbenefitand increased security. And thus while the labours of the good man were either negative or uncertain in * The writer of this little tule, wtis present at a marriage of this description unionK the Micniucs, now a more depregsed and doKradud race, thut retain less of their ancient customs and character than did the Red Indians of Newfoundland at the tlroe we are considering. With the conclusion of the ceremony, the chief, who was as distinguished for his energy and skill in hunting, as honornbic by hureditnry rank, left an island upon wliich the pxtcrnni rite had been performed, for another Island on which he usually enLampod at the same season, at about ten or twelve miles distance iioni the scene of the marriage ceremony. At the same time, his bride, who was of honorable dsscent, and remurki\ble both for her beauty and her modest and gruvoful demeanour, thus lelt tn her friends, was conveyeil (o u distance of about a hundred miles from the island to which the chief had retired ; and the stoic couple did uot meet n^ain, except by accident, niul in Ihi presence of otiierr', I'T (he space of twelvemonth". THE RED INDIANS OP NEWFOUNDLAND. 165 their immediate effects upon the minds of the red men, even Ahtomah himself, fully occnpie 1 in overlooking the labours of the warriors, tind with his care of Adalie, was as negligent of his study, as of his practice, of what, at a season of security and repose, would have called forth all his mental and bodily energies to favour and advance. But as the confidence of the father of Adalie, respecting the spi-edy accom- plishment of his grand designs declined, an^ while the bolder course of his hu- mand labours was arrested, his interest in the general affairs of the red tribe pro- portionably increased; and iiiscnthus||»sm was now scarcely inferior to that of a war- rior of the native race. He lent his aid to Ahtomah, both in council and in the execution of his plans of defence; and without more c'>'.'.;ige in his style of dis- course than the time demanded, he en- couraged the warriors by such appeals to their passions as experience taught him w«!re commonly the most successful and the most lasting in their effects upon the red people. But though tlio inHuence of the white man was not now exerted in opposition to any feeling he believed to be deeply seated, or to any immediate resolution ( ' the red men, he was firm in an opinion he entertained, that tlie stand which the red people had made, was attended with more danger to the safety of the tribe, than would have resulted from following the advice which had been given by the elder warrior, who had counselled them to retire beyond the hills; and he rea- soned with himself concerning the best means among many which suggested themselves to his mind, of exerting what- ever power ho might still possess over Ahtomah and tiie warriors, to induce them to abandon the cavern; and, if they could nf»t leave behind, to take with them, the relics of tlieir late chief. By passing the mountains, he thought they might at once cut off pursuit; and by proceeding to the cast, possibly reach the sacred mount; where their ancient superstition might so favour his use of the supernatural power, which ho was still Ix'lieved to possess, as to enable him to reeovv, r as mucn as it might be desira- ble to cherish of his former ascendency over their minds. And of the advan- tages which might be thereby gained, he was the more persuaded, when he remembered, that such had at imc time bt'on the extent of his influence over the mind of the evil seer himself, that he doubted whether that treacherous ally of the demon, would not even now hesitate to profane the holy mountain by the introduction of the Micmacs, whom it was believed that he led, to make exter- minating war upon the children of his fathers, in the very presence of their guardian spirit. Thus, while the white man was now rather an associute and assistant coun- sellor of the warriors, than the preceptor of their chief, these thoughts occupied his bosom; and it is possible that the ends which ho proposed might have been gained, had he only retained all his former power over the single mind of his aiding spirit Adalie. But the white maiden's free intercourse with the war- riors, and above all, her father's exposure of his weakness where his strength had seemed most to lie, had damped her enthusiasm, and imperceptibly removed from her eyes, the veil which had on former occasions concealed every danger, and inspired her with more than human courage, in the execution of his lofty commands. But if Adalie was no longer the aiding spirit of the Lord of the ]\iountain, she made her father ample amends {or the loss of his serial agent, by the warmth of her natural affection, which augmented ith her daily observance of the in?rca8e of the necessities of her parent's helpless age and declining strength. Neither was the daughter of the white man unobservant of the condition of lu'r father's mind; and while the war- riors continued their active operations, and the white man sat apart and re- volved In his mind the difttcultie.s which met him at every turn of his reasoning, Adalie, whose approach he had not per- ceived, sat herself down by his side. " My great father," said the maiden, as she now addressed her parent, " what is it that weighs down that wise and good spirit, which has so often, in time of danger, triumphed over every obstacle that presented itself? Can Adalie lend her aid in carrying out any scheme for our relief? Can she not perform her father's behests— execute his high com- mands? yho should live but lor the happiness of a race to whose chief she is betrothed, an secure against every danger; and ti .ci mayest return and re- assure the varriors' wives, and sleep thy- self tranqi y in the cavern." While ^ihtomah thus impressed the white maiden with his own superstitious fancies, the darkness gradually overcame the last faint rays of the departed orb, and some rude gusts of wind, to which the firs bowed their heads, reminded the young chief of the necessity of rejoining his warriors and companions in the com- mon danger which threntenod thorn. " And now rest thy right hand npon my shoulder," said Ahtomah to Adulie. as he placed his left arm around the waist of the maiden, to conduct her to the pince of her retreat. " Thou art weary. Too much watching hath overcome thy spirits, and thy strength is gone. The darkness is greater than the setting sun foretold. While conversing with thee, I did not observe the approach of nit!;lit. Thou should'st recover thy former courage, Adalie. It will chiefly be thy part, to cheer the drooping spirits of the women, thy companions." While Ahtomah still thus encouraged Adalie, the youthful couple arrived at the mouth of the ca>e, and the Indian pre- Eared to take leave of his afHanccd ride. " We must now resume." said he, " our separate duties. That which thou per- formest in the cavern, is scarce less nece^ iry than the part without. The m I 168 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OP unrestrained fears of the women might produce excesses, that would disconcert the warriors, and be more difficult toarrt^st than the march of the Micmacs. Adalic must encourapo and console them: slie has seen tlio security in wliich all may repose. " To-morrow, then," added the young; chief, "to-morrow; when the romnnnt of the red race pursue their enemies, thou, and thy companions shall ho em- ployed in makinfj; preparatiims for our return to Ortawt^e." Then pressing; the miiiden to his bosom, he said in conclusion: "Let this emi)rnce, remind Adalie, whois her protector;" and the/ parted. And now, as the maiden entered the cavern, the impassioned yout h, wi th accele- rated step, sought thecentreof thnde.''euces, where the great body of the red men and the best counsellors of their chief, awaited but the occasion of giving the last proof of their pro'vess, and of their devotion to the interests and glory of the tribe. CHAPTER LVI. " We would not scpk a battle, as we aro ; Nor at we are, we say, wo will not sliun it." IlKKKY V. When the young chi»f reached the centre of the encampment, he fouiid the warriors arisen upon their feet after a short repose, and as full of confidence as when he left them. It was, indeed, imder the favour of total darkness, or of some strong com- motion in the elements only, that the Micmacs might hope to exterminate this little remnant ot the Hower of the warriors of the red tribe, with their heroic chief at their head; yet, though the day had been unusually clear and se- rene, OS the great orb of light fell through the thin mists which hung upon tlie western hills, the gusts of wind which had been observed by the protector of Adalie, when he led tfie maiden beyond the obscurity of the wood, had not escaped the notice, and had excited the appre- hensions, of the red men, by the indications whicli they gave of nn ap- proaching change. Two of the warriors of the finest ear and the lightest step were now selected to rove over an ample space of ground about the precincts of the grove, while others were appointed to communicate between those that were posted along the outworks, and the guard who watched the concealed and narrow intervals that were left for the possible necessity of retreat. The full disposition of (he red forces being completed, the warriors exulted in the hope of cutting oft" the most hardy of their inveterate enemies, and (hey seemed to foresee in the energy nnd valour of their young chief, th(> iii»pi)y event which should turn the tide of their fortunes towards the accomplishment of their predicted siu'cess, and lead to the speedy reestablishment of their ancient power. The white man was less confident thnn the warriors, in the security which the red men believed they «'",i"yed, nnd in the results of any attack of th(! Micmacs; and Ahtomah, whose attention was drawn to the varying complexion of the elements was not without his apprehensions of the predominance of the spirits whose human agents now led or counselled the enemies of his tribe. The night was now far advanced, and no intelligence had reached the red men concerning the positicm or movements of their enemies, and nothing was heard of the scouts that had been dispatched with tlie earliest watches of the night. The suspense of the warriors was great. And now the evident signs of a change of weather excited their more lively apprehensions. What had become of the scouts that should ere this have returned? or, what was their fate; was the ([uestion which the red men asked of one another. Had their subtile enemies cut them oft"? or, had the Micmacs fled? or— but the question, if it crossed their minds, no warrior demanded of another — were they seduced — fallen oft'- allied with the enemies of the red name? The Micmacs could not be so keen, so wily, that the weasel and the hare of the red tribe might not discover their move- ments. As the night still advanced, new scouts wore dispatched with instructions to creep at regular intervals of space, to the dis- tance of a bow's carriage from the wood, and there to lie with theear to the ground, that, in case of any alarm, they might, if possible, communicate with their party, without apprising the enemy that they had discovered their approach. This was not an easy duty to perform; but the same state of the elements which might encourage any attack, would also favour the concealment of the scouts. The high spirits of the red men in the midst of their perplexities suffered little diminution, nor did any warrior permit a doubt to enter his mind concerning the results of the struggle, while their party rod forces exulted in lost Imrdy find (hey lerpy and the liapp3' lie of their iplishnient id lead to of their fident thnn which tile , and in the Microncs; ition was oniplexion ithout his dominance an af^ents lies of his meed, and ic red men i'ements of IS heard of tched with :ht. riors was t sig-ns of iheir more ad become this have fate; was |n asked of c enemies acs fled? l-ssed their mother — Hied with e? The so wily, f the red r move- ?w scouts to creep the dis- |he wood, ground, I might, if ir party, lat they erform ; Its which luld also pouts. In in the \ed little permit ling the lir party THE RED INDIANS OP NEWFOUNDLAND. 169 was headed by the chief, who had already given sufficient proof, both of his devotion to his people, and of his knowledge of those arts which their condition now chiefly required he should possess and be read^ to employ. There was but one power that could prevail against this resolute band, it was tha^ whicii Ahtomah drouded, and there was but too much reason for the young chief's fears. ^ But the first hours passed away with- out any cause of alarm, or any other interruption to the repose of the ele- ments, than a few gusts of wind which at intervals still rushed down from the mountains. But these, encountering no resistance from the slender birches, or the tall firs which bent before fhem as they passed towards the plain, left no evidence of their force, while their continuance at intervals, without any appearance of a tempest, seemed to indicate that though the tops of the mountains might be subjected to the fury of the elements, the shelter which the camp enjoyed, would happily preserve its occupants alike from the effects of the storm, and from the wrath of. the dreaded demon. But the seeming security that pre- vailed, was only the forerunner of alarms which soon needed all the courage and fortitude of the red people. It was near the dead of the night; and while the taciturn warriors within the grove, watched iu groups around the suppressed iiames of tneir concealed fires, when the precipitate step of some one ap- froaching was apparent to (ivery ear. ( was that of a scout. In a moment he stood in the midst of his fellow warriors, the associates of their chief. Of words there was little need. The haste with which the warrior entered the grove, betrayed the motive of his return. But, after u moment's silence, he thus addressed himself to the successor of Ottawah. "Chief of the red tribe," said he; "llie Micmacs, like the snake in action, and like the insects of summer in number, lie concealed within a few short arrows' flights of our encampment; a wary band approach our defences." More words had been vain. The* «ar- riors suppressed the sudden exultation which now filled every breast. A second scout arrived from an op- posite direction. His tidings were the same. And, finally, all that had been missing, appeared; and every one brought the same intelligence. Two parties of 22 the enemy were advancing upon dif- ferent points of the grove. The warriors now saw, with renewed admiration, the effects of the grand movement which had been made under the direction of their chief, with the importance of the works which had been raised for their defence. They might be attacked in opposite directions, or cm all tides; but they were no where unprepared, and could be no where taken by surprise. They were opposed by a host, in number unknown; but they were within defences capable of repelling any human force that their imaginations could present to the most desponding among them ; and all was ready. The word was hardly given by their chief, for the warriors to form into such divisions as had been appointed, before every disposition of the forces was made; and the two strongest parties, headed severally by the scouts that had given the alarm, were placed in opposition to the immediate danger which threatened; while a sehtct band was formed, and held in readiness for any occasion for their special services that might arise. The light of the fires by which they had sat, was now totally extinguished; and no soimd was heard, save now and then the crackling of small branches of dry wood, on which the moving parties, in their haste, were not able to avoid pressing. The Micmacs, as it was evident, were approaching the grove, unacquainted with the preparations that were made to ob- struct their passage. The skilfully- planned defences would have required a minute knowledge of the ground, and close inspection by day, to be entered or attacked with advantage, by night. They were all placed within the grove; so that they could not be seen at any distance by day; and it was iinpossible without the light of the sun, for an as- sailant even to discover their existence, boforis his steps were arrested by the ob- struction which they offered; while the small passages left open,were confounded by intricate windings, through which the warriors might only pass in single file, for the purpose? of retreat, or a sortie; and they might be easily closed against an approaciiing foe. The interval between the alarm and the event of the first strife was of short duration. It was no sooner apparent that the course of the assailants was arrested by the obstruction they encounters' than the party of red warriors, thai, 170 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OF had awaited the occasion, issued from the defencos, and by a skilful movement, fell Upon their reatj and by blows un- seen, with tlicii' tomahawks, they now knocked down and slaufjhtercd their enemies in numbers. Nor did they desist, until the flight of tl»e attacking Eafty proclaimed the full success of the old and judicious manoeuvre. The short, but bloody conflict, was unaccompanied by any sound, save of i the strokes of the tomahawk, and the | deep groans of those who fell to the ground. The second party also of the enemy, which had been discovered in the op- posite direction, approached the skirt of the wood; but, upon the discovery of the obstacles to their farther advance, or alarmed by intelligence concerning the fate of the other, they retreated before the red warriors had time to do more execution, than to knock down one or two, by a random shower of arrows, wiiicli they discharged from behind the defences which sheltered them. The warriors of the victorious parties now reentered the inner defences, and assembled in the presence of their chief. Thirty scalps rewarded the sagacity of Ahtomah, and the valour of his people, while not a red warrior was missing. There was profound silence once more; but it was not long to continue. The scouts had scarce resumed their rovings, before they reentered at every angle of the defences; and all agreed in reporting, that the plain was swarming with the enemy in motion— that the grove was encompassed by a host. But the confidence of the warriors in the valour and skill of their young chief, and the virtue of his plans of delence, were un- abated, and they dreamed but of the defeat and slaughter of their enemies. And now, when hope and exultation seemed to possess every soul of this gal- lant band, as thty awaited the commands of their leader, the young chief, while his countenance was still visible by the faint light from the expiring embers of their suppressed fires, unexpectedly, and familiarly, addressed his warriors, in de- manding, whether there were any among them who might choose to fly— any that would prefer his assured safety to the uncertainty of the impending struggle. " The road is open," said Ahtomah : " It is but to retire beyond the mountains, aiid ye may enjoy a season at least of repose, if then there be but one among ye 80 wise as to prefer his safety to the prospect before him, let him speak. He shall bo heard, and not reproved. Nay, even conducted -the son of Ottawah has said it — beyond the bounds of danger. There must be among you, some one more wise than to stay. Perhaps, indeed, the advantages to be gained, should the most complete victory reward the toils of the few that triumph, may be little greater, even to these, than retreat may insure to ali^SFhe battle of the Micmacs is not for a few scalps. Extermination is the aim of the war on their side — the reinnant of a fallen people, their expected victim. Ijct the wisest among ye speak!" There was a deep pause at the words of the young chief; yet no renegade foot moved. " And wherefore this hesitation,'' said Ahtomah. " Or is every warrior ready to fly ; and do ye want but a guide? Shall then your chief be indeed your leader, in this time of uncertainty and peril — your conductor to the place of refuge beyond the hills? Will not a wariior re- ply?" But Hone spoke. Not a voice was heard. Then, Ahtomah, after a long pause, breaking the expressive silence, thus con- tinued: " lied warriors, that are worthy of the great name which your fathers bore. The son of Ottawah should have known your fidelity. This trial of your patience, was but the means by which he would discover, whether but one of the crew of the seer were still among you. We are as one man. Let us raise, then, our thoughts, though our voices be mute, Ko the Great Spirit of the universe. Let us worship Him, who alone can turn aside the machinations of the demon— confound all the spirits of evil. Ye have given the son of the great Ottawah, the last proof of your devotion, your piety, vour valour. The red tribe cannot perish! ' While the young chief had been speak- ing, the suppressed emotions of his people had from time to time j'eached his ear, like the sounds of a distant cataract, which the inconstant wind conveys at intervals, to the quick sense of the bewil- dered traveller, to reassure his steps and determine his path; but, as the last words of his address fell upon the ears of the warriors, one universal sound of approbation proceeded in half suppressed accents from the red men, indicatmg the confidence of every soul anion^ them, in the favour of iieaven, and in tne skill and virtue of their leader. It was enough. The chief, and his warriors, resolved to overcome their said 1 speak- lof his Itied his itaract, leva at bewil- steps Ihe last \e eai's pund of tressed \ns the them, »e skill id his their THE RED INDIANS OP J NKWFOUNDLAXD. 171 enemies, or to perish at the mouth of the cavern, where the ashes of the pood Ottawah reposed. CHAPTER LVIL " -never till to-niglit, ncvpr till now, Did I go through a tempest-droppinit tire." Julius C.ehau. While the warriors wci-o animatod by the address and exiimplo of tliuir chief, and occnpiod with the execution of the commands whicli he issued for tlie defence of their position and the general safety, Jess notice had been taken of thnse material influences, which never failed to exercise so profit dominion over their sensitive and superstitious minds. But the malipnant spirits, that, conjoin their power with the elements wliioh sweep befin'Q them the frail works of men's hands, were not subdued; and some stronger gusts of wind from tlie mountains, at once reculkid all tlio fears, that the earlier observations of the war- riors had excited; and tlu' general exulta- tion which had followed the address of Ahtomah, was now succeeded l)y some moi|ients of inactive and breathless ex- pectation. As the red people, who were now sta- tioned along the whole line of defences, stood astounded by the change that they now perceived, the face of heaven, which had been studded with its myriad lights, became obscured; and the first dread sign of the assured predominance of tiie power of the evil spirit over that of tlio angel of good, was followed by yet ruder and more constant blasts from the moun- tains, which as they passed over the grove, seemed now about to rend and tear up every tree from its roots, and sweep away every defence that the red men had raised. It was now the part of the son of Ottawah, to use all his influence to coun- teract the effects of tlie supposed wrath of the powers which the warriors be- lieved ascendant, by exciting the hopes of his people that their canse was not abandoned by the more powerful agents of good : and for this purpose, he passed from one angle of the defences to another, and in the presence of his people, every where fervently implored the protection and aid of the Great and mid Good Spirit, till he uispired all tlie warriors with his own heroic determina- tion, and left an impression upon their minds, that bis invocations were not in vain.- But tho tempest was soon confirmed; aad M the red men watched the course of its effi'cts, the very leafless birches bowed their heads before the violence of the elements in motion, and many were now rooted up, and confounded and swept away with the weak defeufos which the chililren of tho departed Ottawah had constructed, until all seemed about to be involved in one general confusion and ruin. The storm still increased: and loud peals of thunder now shook the very rocks around, wliile (piick flashes of forked lightning illumined the entire grove; and, as strange and unnatural sounds, that were more terrible tiian the thunder of heaven, at int(>rvals filled the air, the warriors^ seemed to see spirits passing to and fro across the dark shades of the spruce trees, as if all the malignant powers had combined their efforts, and awaited but their time, to full upon and exterminate the red race. The devoted band were low once more gathered in the pre;, nee of their chief. Tlio most practised of the warriors in the battle of the tomahawk, or of the bow or tho spear, trembled and seemed ready to fail to the ground, before the powers to which they now believed themselves posed, let when the flashes of light tiL intervals showed them the unmoved countenance of Ahtomah, their courage as often appeared to revive, and they seemed as if they looked only for a sign from their lawful chief, which they might witii their accusiomed enthusiasm obey. But for some time, no commands were issued, no signal given. But while Ahtomah, by his dign il( silence, sig- nified at once his freudoni irom fear, and his resignation and hope, the real character of the dangers that menaced them appeared. Tlie spirits that they hod seemed to see, were their mortal foes. Tho Micniacs were in the midst of the grove; and aided by tho patrons of evil, appeared about to fall upon tho unha])py remnant of the devoted race. The warriors now gatluuvd yit more closely around their chief, and by raising their tomahawks in tlieir right hands, signified tiieir unabated confidence, and tiieir determination, at his command, to act as one man. Ahtomah now raised his voice above the deafening scninds of the tempest. The chief called aloud upon his people, and bade them follow him. He was bent upon one great eflort — it was that of des- paii" — against the enemies of hi .aec. Tho warriors prepared to f' w iheir chief to the uuequal encountt hand- ful of red mca, to oppose a hu:< >f Mic- 172 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIEF OF macs. Another moment, and the deadly enemies met: and as the renewed flashes from the clouds showed every warrior his enemy, they fought on both sides, with the accustomed desperation of in- furiated savages. The Micmacs fell in numbers before the tomahawks of the heroic red band. Ahtomah, with the nervous arm of first manhood, dealt slaughter every whore around him. And as the lightning now tlashed with scarce any interruption, the chief was witness of the deeds ot his warriors, as they strewed the ground with the corses of their enemies. But now on a suddep, as if the good angel had awakened from a state of re- pose, and descended to aid his people, the lightning and the thunder ceased, and the winds were hushed. But, it was only a momentary calm, and the precur- sor of yet more terriflc scenes. The tempest now renewed its fury; and, as the very earth shook henenth their feet, dreadml noises procoeiled from the ground, to which the raging of the elements above their heads was like the sound of a summer's gale. The firmest trees were overthrown, and masses of rock rolled headlong down the mountain ; and the assailants and the assailed, now overcome by their equal terrors, hid them- selves from the face of heaven among the closest thickets, or fell alike to the ground. Some time the red warriors lay con- cealed, or prostrate with their faces to the earth. At length, Ahtomah first awoke from the sudden stupor, with which the war of the elements had possessed every soul; and, as he recovered his re- collection, he perceived the light, as it seemed, of the sun. The young chiol' started from the ground. But it was not day. It was the glare from the burning firs in front of them. The wood was on fire : and the flames, as they were driven before the tempest, rapidly approached the ground where the red men still lay. The chief now called aloud upon his warriors. In a moment they were again in arms. But no human enemy appeared. All was now uncertain. None ventured to speak: but the countenances of the warriors, which were seen Jis by day, betrayed their thoughts. Could the Mic- macs have retreated? or were all that had opposed them slain? The ground was covered with their dead. But the time of inaction was of short duration; and Ahtomah now once more addrcssod his devnted followers. " Warriors," said the young chief, as his people again gathered around him: ♦' benold the bodies of your slaughtered enemies. Did we war against the ]^Iic- macs alone, how easy our conquest. But the deuion is against us— and the evil spirit is predominant. See! he again ap- proaches, and is armed with a fresh element, and new powers. We cannot contend with the fire of the evil spirit. JjCt us open a way to the cave. Wo must rescue the women and recover the bones of Ottawuh. We can then pass the mountain or die. Follow your chief !" The warriors now seemed prepared to rush with their chief towards the cave; but as the lucid flames ascended to the skies, the fire began to fall in showers around them; and as Ahtomah raised his tomahawk in his right hand, they seemed to hesitate. The spirit of evil was indeed ascendant, and the sensible presence of the demon had overwhelmed the red men with terror. " Warriors I" then said Ahtomah, as he again raised his voice above the storm : " Is the son of Ottawah, now no longer your leader? Let shame be the portion of every warrior that remains behmd." As the youthful chief thus spoke, he prepared to rush into the devouring ele- ment, which he would assay to cross in the direction of the cavern. But ore the full trial of the fidelity of the warriors could bo tested, the purpose of their heroic leader was arrestca by the hand of one that in their confusion none had seen, which now unexpectedly oaught him by the right arm. And as Ahtomah turned to disengage himself from its feeble hold, he perceived the fair form of Adalie. " Thou ncedcst not to seek the cavern," said the white niai) were d.'stinguisiiod from their enemies. But— did the (Jreiit and (iood Spirit indeed now lead them? and were the clouds and darkness wliicii still veiled the Armament, but the typo of the moral darkness whiel) coiuteals all the ways of the Great Spirit, and the tire the last ert'ort of the demon? Or, had the evil spirit himself, as he looked upon the scene, been touched with human remorse, and arrested the course oi' the horrors which he had originated? — w«re the questions which suggested them- selves to the followers of the red chief, as they silently continued tlieir way; but there was none to satisfy their doubts. t to proceed further. " Let us return to the plain,'' said they, "and perish by the liniids of the Micmacs, rather than seek a fate mori" terrible than common death. Fiends environ us. We have entered the habi- tation of demons, the region of nerpetuid night. Let us return to the plain, and, meeting death as becomes red men, merit a better fate than that which I'waits us here." 174 OTTAWAH, THE LAST CHIKP OF But the thDUffhts of the chief were abstracted, and he heeded not the voice of his ppople. But as ho proceeded, he suddenly per- ceived a form wltli the outlines of the erect human figure standing directly in hia path, lie did not arrest his steps; and as he advanced, he seemed to recog- nise the hideoi)s features of the seer Uttcrmoot, who )iqvv appeared to grin with horrible df^lighf, as at the near approach of his hour of revenge. The young warrior drew his tomahawk ; but the seeming jporlal, against whom it was uplifted, appeapd, q.t tjie very action of Aljtpimjh to melt into an fiiry substance, which now bid its form ajftong the shrubs and spruces, which intercepted every step of thi^ir way. The young chief now stopped; and in t turning to Adalie, to whonj ne had not spoken for some time, he demanded of the white maiden, whether .slic had .seen the form that haj a moment before stood i(i their path. "My senses (t,YO not, indeed, closed," ^9pjiea Adalie, "but my spirit is not opeii to the impression of any object apart from the orave chief of the red tribe. I have heard screams, and seen strange forjns, but I regard them not. "Buf wherefore," then sudlenly ex- claimed the mai4en — "wherefore tjiis loud cry amopg the warriors? At tins raomejit, the yell of mortal strife once more struck u])on the ears of Ahtofpah, and his superstitious fears as soon vanished. "It is the Apcniacs," he exclaimed, " and it is \ycll. We shall engage them in tl)is ji'^ri'ow pass, while the rocks cover us and conceal our weak- ness. The tomahawk of red men is in the right hand of the Great Spirit. It in uplifted to destroy his en(unics." ■^le wordi^ of Ali'inah wcx'o scarce epoken, wh(.'n the remain:) of the gallant baud which the elements alone had pubductl, were attacJttMl from every quar- ts. The voice of Ihcir chief was raised m vain; and his cITorts \o rally his remaining wanii»r3 aijil concentrate thejjr foixf.', wcr9 \>ithout avail. They 0.U believed thei})pfn one side, and then to the other, in sometimes call- ing upon tlie n (1 warriors, and sometimes upon the spirits tliey invoked, to avenge her parents deatli. Tlun clasping her hands and regarding 'he heavens, she called upon the Deity in whom she Ije- lieviMJ, to forgive lier enemies — to spare lier fatlier's destroy. >rs. Ahtomali in vair. employed alternate caresses and comniaudi. Tlie white maiden no longer knew him whom she loved. But while the young chief cuntinued his etforts to reston? the maiden to her wonted ealiiiTies!i, the yell of pursuit once more reached his ear. And now Adalie stood and gu/.ed vet more wildly around Her, as if sensible of external sounds of w iiieli she remembered not the purport. Far ditferent was tlieir ottect upon Al'.tomah. "iSnd do I hear again the well-kno>m yell?" said the young chiet", "or is it the whistling of tlie wind in the cloven rocks. But let the ent'iiiy come. Tliis arm is yet strong; and this weapon is sure." But while the young warrior now grasped his tomah iwk, as he prepared to meet any enemy that should n|i|)i'iir, A(hili(>, still iiuco'iis^'ious of her aetinns, sutldeiily simlched the weapon iVom the htiDil oi' her protectiirs and with IVuve above her mitiirnl powers, she hurled the last trust of the chief, into ihc dark gulf below the cliff, at no great distance frou" the brink of which they ihen stood. And now when the yoiith thus saw himself disarmed, he fell upon the groUnd. as if ho, too, were bereaved of his reasdti, or had given way to despaii*. But wheil the momentary effects of the passion which the loss of his weapon had excited, passed away, Ahtomah was still mas- ter of his reflections and his actions; and, starting again upon his feet, as he pre- pared for the inevitable fate which he now foresaw, ho cast his eyes towards the sky and exclaimed : "It is then the end. My people are already extinct: and I alone renu in, like a blasted juniper after the trees of the forest have kng fallen around. Would that the lij^J^cing had not spai-ed me! I was born in the evening of my people's pride. I caniobut to witness the extinc- tion of a race, which record not the time when their father's first hunted the deer on tin; hills. They are departed. They are fallen. VYIiat record of thoir fariic shall remain':' When the tall canoes of white men come, the .spirits of rod men will lie hearil amidst the mist that the tempest drive's over the plain; but none will bi! found to tell the tale of a race already renumbered no more." ^\s the young chief uttered those com- lilainings, iJie yell of pursuit again soiindi'd in his ears; and recovering from his I'cstacy, he behold the forms of a dozen Mieinacs now darken the red sky, as they gained the summit of the moun- tain upon the side of the grove. Ahtomah now took Adalie by the hand. The inaidtMi's full consciousnesg seemed returned. She shunned not hta embrace, lie led her to the brink of the precipitous ,'litV on the side of ihe dark and yuwiiin;- gulf. They turned to look auain upon the ap|)roaeliing foe; and Alilomah ii )W soeiiicd to distinguish the features of the ninlignant seer, who, witli two of theehildreu of ihedemon, cautiously approached the spot on which he stood. Another i louienk, and with yet mor :hed bride, and Adahe placed her left 1 lind upoa the shoulder of her prot'ictcr; and, calm and resigned, they again looked upon each otlier, until the maiden a second time signified her assent to the will of Ahtomah, and then bowed her head upon the warrior's breast. The young chief, now, once more pressed the devoted maiden to his bosom. Then they stepped, without separating, to the brink of tho cliff; and ere their enemies reached the site of their last embrace, they had plunged into the frightful abyss, and in their humanity existed no more. * * * At this distance of time,' and without more data than we possess, it would be in vain to attempt establishing any facts concerning the fate of the unfortunate exile from his native land. Whether, indeed, or by what means, the white man escaped the scalping knife of the savages, who long possessed a large por- tion of the vast island in which the scene of this story is laid, it is nov- impossible, with any de; . ^ ■> of '^r-it'd nc :, to deter- mine. Wo i.;<- ' th'iie.oi T, be i..ontcnt to suppose, as tht nole ^ ans ' ' recon- ciling and f inectinf^ ib vf^^ip ti i ditions which exist to 'lis daj amriig the Micmacs, Mint ihe f iher .f Adalie survived the horrors of the fatal night on which his child and the heroic red chief perished; and that he lived some time in peace among the eneriies of the race ot Ottawah and Ah«;omah; bat that he died before he was able to communicate to any Europeans, any such information concerning the Tavorable character of the Red Indian f-ople, for the admission of the elements ot civili- sition, as might, under happier circum- stances-, in a future age, have led to the accomplishment of the benevolent labour in which he hiid engaged, and perhaps saved a whole people from the fate they are supposed to nave undergone, and a nation, prou^^ of its ^mmanity, from the shame of hereafter finding the bones of the last survivor, . unburied, amidst the ruins of the habitations of the latest remnant of the ill-fate4 extinct race. THE END. V.J'M*^ V iic ;, to deter- •fl, he i.onteat a.VH '. ' reoou- p 'T'lp ti 1 ditions y atKCiig the er .f Adalie he fatal night d the heroic that he lived g the enemies ind Ab«;omahi le was able to eans, any such the ilavorable an p.ople, for ents of civili- ippier circum- ive led to the evolent labour and perhaps the fate they iclergone, and imanity, from ing the bones uried, amidst i of the latest incc race. m ■^ -Si. ■,.-