Tales and Sketches | Page 6

keen
bright eye upon the speaker.
"Why is the son of the great chief bound by my brothers?"
The Indian looked one instant upon the cords which confined his arms,
and then glanced fiercely upon his conductors.
"Has the great chief forgotten his white friends? Will he send his young
men to take their scalps when the Narragansett bids him?"
The growl of the young bear when roused from his hiding-place is not
more fierce and threatening than were the harsh tones of Wonolanset as
he uttered through his clenched teeth:--
"Nummus quantum."
"Nay, nay," said Mr. Ward, turning away from the savage, "his heart is
full of bitterness; he says he is angry, and, verily, I like not his bearing.
I fear me there is evil on foot. But ye have travelled far, and must needs
be weary rest yourselves awhile, and haply, while ye refresh your
bodies, I may also refresh your spirits with wholesome and comfortable
doctrines."
The party having acquiesced in this proposal, their captive was secured
by fastening one end of his rope to a projecting branch of the tree. The
minister again named his text, but had only proceeded to the minuter
divisions of his sermon, when he was again interrupted by a loud, clear
whistle from the river, and a sudden exclamation of surprise from those
around him. A single glance sufficed to show him the Indian,
disengaged from his rope, and in full retreat.
Eaton raised his rifle to his eye, and called out to the young sachem, in
his own language, to stop, or he would fire upon him. The Indian
evidently understood the full extent of his danger. He turned suddenly
about, and, pointing, up the river towards the dwelling of his father,
pronounced with a threatening gesture:--

"Nosh, Passaconaway!"
"Hold!" exclaimed Mr. Ward, grasping the arm of Eaton. "He threatens
us with his father's vengeance. For God's sake keep your fire!" It was
too late. The report of the rifle broke sharply upon the Sabbath stillness.
It was answered by a shout from the river, and a small canoe, rowed by
an Indian and a white man, was seen darting along the shore.
Wonolanset bounded on unharmed, and, plunging into the river, he
soon reached the canoe, which was hastily paddled to the opposite bank.
Captain Eaton and his party finding it impossible to retake their
prisoner, after listening to the sermon of Mr. Ward, and partaking of
some bodily refreshment, took their leave of the settlers of Pentucket,
and departed for Boston.
The evening, which followed the day whose events we have narrated,
was one of those peculiar seasons of beauty when the climate of New
England seems preferable to that of Italy. The sun went down in the
soft haze of the horizon, while the full moon was rising at the same
time in the east. Its mellow silver mingled with the deep gold of the
sunset. The south-west wind, as warm as that of summer, but softer,
was heard, at long intervals, faintly harping amidst the pines, and
blending its low sighing with the lulling murmurs of the river. The
inhabitants of Pentucket had taken the precaution, as night came on, to
load their muskets carefully, and place them in readiness for instant use,
in the event of an attack from the savages. Such an occurrence, was,
indeed, not unlikely, after the rude treatment which the son of old
Passaconaway had received at the settlement. It was well known that
the old chief was able, at a word, to send every warrior from Pennacook
to Naumkeag upon the war-path of Miantonimo; the vengeful character
of the Indians was also understood; and, in the event of an out-breaking
of their resentment, the settlement of Pentucket was, of all others, the
most exposed to danger.
"Don't go to neighbor Clements's to-night, Mary," said Alice Ward to
her young, unmarried sister; "I'm afraid some of the tawny Indians may
be lurking hereabout. Mr. Ward says he thinks they will be dangerous
neighbors for us."
Mary had thrown her shawl over her head, and was just stepping out.
"It is but a step, as it were, and I promised good-wife Clements that I
would certainly come. I am not afraid of the Indians. There's none of

them about here except Red Sam, who wanted to buy me of Mr. Ward
for his squaw; and I shall not be afraid of my old spark."
The girl tripped lightly from the, threshold towards the dwelling of her
neighbor. She had passed nearly half the distance when the pathway,
before open to the moonlight, began to wind along the margin of the
river, overhung with young sycamores and hemlocks. With a beating
heart and a quickened step she was stealing through the shadow, when
the