Chapter: "Mine ear is open, and my heart prepared:
  The worst is worldly loss thou canst unfold:
  Say, is my kingdom lost?"

  SHAKESPEARE.


It was a feature peculiar to the colonial wars of North America, that
the toils and dangers of the wilderness were to be encountered before
the adverse hosts could meet. A wide and apparently an impervious
boundary of forests severed the possessions of the hostile provinces of
France and England. The hardy colonist, and the trained European who
fought at his side, frequently expended months in struggling against the
rapids of the streams, or in effecting the rugged passes of the
mountains, in quest of an opportunity to exhibit their courage in a more
martial conflict. But, emulating the patience and self-denial of the
practised native warriors, they learned to overcome every difficulty;
and it would seem that, in time, there was no recess of the woods so
dark, nor any secret place so lovely, that it might claim exemption from
the inroads of those who had pledged their blood to satiate their
vengeance, or to uphold the cold and selfish policy of the distant
monarchs of Europe.

Perhaps no district throughout the wide extent of the intermediate
frontiers can furnish a livelier picture of the cruelty and fierceness
of the savage warfare of those periods than the country which lies
between the head waters of the Hudson and the adjacent lakes.

The facilities which nature had there offered to the march of the
combatants were too obvious to be neglected. The lengthened sheet of the
Champlain stretched from the frontiers of Canada, deep within the
borders of the neighboring province of New York, forming a natural
passage across half the distance that the French were compelled to
master in order to strike their enemies. Near its southern termination,
it received the contributions of another lake, whose waters were so
limpid as to have been exclusively selected by the Jesuit missionaries
to perform the typical purification of baptism, and to obtain for it the
title of lake "du Saint Sacrement." The less zealous English thought
they conferred a sufficient honor on its unsullied fountains, when they
bestowed the name of their reigning prince, the second of the house of
Hanover. The two united to rob the untutored possessors of its wooded
scenery of their native right to perpetuate its original appellation of
"Horican."[1]

Winding its way among countless islands, and imbedded in mountains, the
"holy lake" extended a dozen leagues still farther to the south. With
the high plain that there interposed itself to the further passage of
the water, commenced a portage of as many miles, which conducted the
adventurer to the banks of the Hudson, at a point where, with the usual
obstructions of the rapids, or rifts, as they were then termed in the
language of the country, the river became navigable to the tide.

While, in the pursuit of their daring plans of annoyance, the restless
enterprise of the French even attempted the distant and difficult gorges
of the Alleghany, it may easily be imagined that their proverbial
acuteness would not overlook the natural advantages of the district we
have just described. It became, emphatically, the bloody arena, in which
most of the battles for the mastery of the colonies were contested.
Forts were erected at the different points that commanded the facilities
of the route, and were taken and retaken, razed and rebuilt, as victory
alighted on the hostile banners. While the husbandman shrank back from
the dangerous passes, within the safer boundaries of the more ancient
settlements, armies larger than those that had often disposed of the
sceptres of the mother countries, were seen to bury themselves in these
forests, whence they rarely returned but in skeleton bands, that were
haggard with care, or dejected by defeat. Though the arts of peace were
unknown to this fatal region, its forests were alive with men; its
shades and glens rang with the sounds of martial music, and the echoes
of its mountains threw back the laugh, or repeated the wanton cry, of
many a gallant and reckless youth, as he hurried by them, in the
noontide of his spirits, to slumber in a long night of forgetfulness.

It was in this scene of strife and bloodshed that the incidents we shall
attempt to relate occurred, during the third year of the war which
England and France last waged for the possession of a country that
neither was destined to retain.

The imbecility of her military leaders abroad, and the fatal want of
energy in her councils at home, had lowered the character of Great
Britain from the proud elevation on which it had been placed, by the
talents and enterprise of her former warriors and statesmen. No longer
dreaded by her enemies, her servants were fast losing the confidence of
self-respect. In this mortifying abasement, the colonists, though
innocent of her imbecility, and too humble to be the agents of her
blunders, were but the natural participators.

They had recently seen a chosen army from that country, which,
reverencing as a mother, they had blindly believed invincible--an army
led by a chief who had been selected from a crowd of trained warriors,
for his rare military endowments, disgracefully routed by a handful of
French and Indians, and only saved from annihilation by the coolness and
spirit of a Virginian boy, whose riper fame has since diffused itself,
with the steady influence of moral truth, to the uttermost confines of
Christendom.[2] A wide frontier had been laid naked by this unexpected
disaster, and more substantial evils were preceded by a thousand
fanciful and imaginary dangers. The alarmed colonists believed that the
yells of the savages mingled with every fitful gust of wind that issued
from the interminable forests of the west. The terrific character of
their merciless enemies increased immeasurably the natural horrors of
warfare. Numberless recent massacres were still vivid in their
recollections; nor was there any ear in the provinces so deaf as not to
have drunk in with avidity the narrative of some fearful tale of
midnight murder, in which the natives of the forests were the principal
and barbarous actors. As the credulous and excited traveller related the
hazardous chances of the wilderness, the blood of the timid curdled
with terror, and mothers cast anxious glances even at those children
which slumbered within the security of the largest towns. In short, the
magnifying influence of fear began to set at naught the calculations of
reason, and to render those who should have remembered their manhood,
the slaves of the basest of passions. Even the most confident and the
stoutest hearts began to think the issue of the contest was becoming
doubtful; and that abject class was hourly increasing in numbers, who
thought they foresaw all the possessions of the English crown in America
subdued by their Christian foes, or laid waste by the inroads of their
relentless allies.

When, therefore, intelligence was received at the fort, which covered
the southern termination of the portage between the Hudson and the
lakes, that Montcalm had been seen moving up the Champlain, with an army
"numerous as the leaves on the trees," its truth was admitted with more
of the craven reluctance of fear than with the stern joy that a warrior
should feel, in finding an enemy within reach of his blow. The news had
been brought, towards the decline of a day in midsummer, by an Indian
runner, who also bore an urgent request from Munro, the commander of a
work on the shore of the "holy lake," for a speedy and powerful
reinforcement. It has already been mentioned that the distance between
these two posts was less than five leagues. The rude path, which
originally formed their line of communication, had been widened for the
passage of wagons; so that the distance which had been travelled by the
son of the forest in two hours, might easily be effected by a detachment
of troops, with their necessary baggage, between the rising and setting
of a summer sun. The loyal servants of the British crown had given to
one of these forest fastnesses the name of William Henry, and to the
other that of Fort Edward; calling each after a favorite prince of the
reigning family. The veteran Scotchman just named held the first, with a
regiment of regulars and a few provincials; a force really by far too
small to make head against the formidable power that Montcalm was
leading to the foot of his earthen mounds. At the latter, however, lay
General Webb, who commanded the armies of the king in the northern
provinces, with a body of more than five thousand men. By uniting the
several detachments of his command, this officer might have arrayed
nearly double that number of combatants against the enterprising
Frenchman, who had ventured so far from his reinforcements, with an army
but little superior in numbers.

But under the influence of their degraded fortunes, both officers and
men appeared better disposed to await the approach of their formidable
antagonists, within their works, than to resist the progress of their
march, by emulating the successful example of the French at Fort du
Quesne, and striking a blow on their advance.

After the first surprise of the intelligence had a little abated, a
rumor was spread through the entrenched camp, which stretched along the
margin of the Hudson, forming a chain of outworks to the body of the
fort itself, that a chosen detachment of fifteen hundred men was to
depart, with the dawn, for William Henry, the post at the northern
extremity of the portage. That which at first was only rumor, soon
became certainty, as orders passed from the quarters of the
commander-in-chief to the several corps he had selected for this
service, to prepare for their speedy departure. All doubt as to the
intention of Webb now vanished, and an hour or two of hurried footsteps
and anxious faces succeeded. The novice in the military art flew from
point to point, retarding his own preparations by the excess of his
violent and somewhat distempered zeal; while the more practised veteran
made his arrangements with a deliberation that scorned every appearance
of haste; though his sober lineaments and anxious eye sufficiently
betrayed that he had no very strong professional relish for the as yet
untried and dreaded warfare of the wilderness. At length the sun set in
a flood of glory, behind the distant western hills, and as darkness drew
its veil around the secluded spot the sounds of preparation diminished;
the last light finally disappeared from the log cabin of some officer;
the trees cast their deeper shadows over the mounds and the rippling
stream, and a silence soon pervaded the camp, as deep as that which
reigned in the vast forest by which it was environed.

According to the orders of the preceding night, the heavy sleep of the
army was broken by the rolling of the warning drums, whose rattling
echoes were heard issuing, on the damp morning air, out of every vista
of the woods, just as day began to draw the shaggy outlines of some tall
pines of the vicinity, on the opening brightness of a soft and cloudless
eastern sky. In an instant the whole camp was in motion; the meanest
soldier arousing from his lair to witness the departure of his
comrades, and to share in the excitement and incidents of the hour. The
simple array of the chosen band was soon completed. While the regular
and trained hirelings of the king marched with haughtiness to the right
of the line, the less pretending colonists took their humbler position
on its left, with a docility that long practice had rendered easy. The
scouts departed; strong guards preceded and followed the lumbering
vehicles that bore the baggage; and before the gray light of the morning
was mellowed by the rays of the sun, the main body of the combatants
wheeled into column, and left the encampment with a show of high
military bearing, that served to drown the slumbering apprehensions of
many a novice, who was now about to make his first essay in arms. While
in view of their admiring comrades, the same proud front and ordered
array was observed, until the notes of their fifes growing fainter in
distance, the forest at length appeared to swallow up the living mass
which had slowly entered its bosom.

The deepest sounds of the retiring and invisible column had ceased to be
borne on the breeze to the listeners, and the latest straggler had
already disappeared in pursuit; but there still remained the signs of
another departure, before a log cabin of unusual size and
accommodations, in front of which those sentinels paced their rounds,
who were known to guard the person of the English general. At this spot
were gathered some half dozen horses, caparisoned in a manner which
showed that two, at least, were destined to bear the persons of females,
of a rank that it was not usual to meet so far in the wilds of the
country. A third wore the trappings and arms of an officer of the staff;
while the rest, from the plainness of the housings, and the travelling
mails with which they were encumbered, were evidently fitted for the
reception of as many menials, who were, seemingly, already awaiting the
pleasure of those they served. At a respectful distance from this
unusual show were gathered divers groups of curious idlers; some
admiring the blood and bone of the high-mettled military charger, and
others gazing at the preparations, with dull wonder of vulgar curiosity.
There was one man, however, who, by his countenance and actions, formed
a marked exception to those who composed the latter class of spectators,
being neither idle, nor seemingly very ignorant.

The person of this individual was to the last degree ungainly, without
being in any particular manner deformed. He had all the bones and joints
of other men, without any of their proportions. Erect, his stature
surpassed that of his fellows; seated, he appeared reduced within the
ordinary limits of the race. The same contrariety in his members seemed
to exist throughout the whole man. His head was large; his shoulders
narrow; his arms long and dangling; while his hands were small, if not
delicate. His legs and thighs were thin, nearly to emaciation, but of
extraordinary length; and his knees would have been considered
tremendous, had they not been outdone by the broader foundations on
which this false superstructure of the blended human orders was so
profanely reared. The ill-assorted and injudicious attire of the
individual only served to render his awkwardness more conspicuous. A
sky-blue coat, with short and broad skirts and low cape, exposed a long
thin neck, and longer and thinner legs, to the worst animadversions of
the evil disposed. His nether garment was of yellow nankeen, closely
fitted to the shape, and tied at his bunches of knees by large knots of
white ribbon, a good deal sullied by use. Clouded cotton stockings, and
shoes, on one of the latter of which was a plated spur, completed the
costume of the lower extremity of this figure, no curve or angle of
which was concealed, but, on the other hand, studiously exhibited,
through the vanity or simplicity of its owner. From beneath the flap of
an enormous pocket of a soiled vest of embossed silk, heavily ornamented
with tarnished silver lace, projected an instrument, which, from being
seen in such martial company, might have been easily mistaken for some
mischievous and unknown implement of war. Small as it was, this uncommon
engine had excited the curiosity of most of the Europeans in the camp,
though several of the provincials were seen to handle it, not only
without fear, but with the utmost familiarity. A large, civil cocked
hat, like those worn by clergymen within the last thirty years,
surmounted the whole, furnishing dignity to a good-natured and somewhat
vacant countenance, that apparently needed such artificial aid, to
support the gravity of some high and extraordinary trust.

While the common herd stood aloof, in deference to the quarters of Webb,
the figure we have described stalked in the centre of the domestics,
freely expressing his censures or commendations on the merits of the
horses, as by chance they displeased or satisfied his judgment.

"This beast, I rather conclude, friend, is not of home raising, but is
from foreign lands, or perhaps from the little island itself over the
blue water?" he said, in a voice as remarkable for the softness and
sweetness of its tones, as was his person for its rare proportions: "I
may speak of these things, and be no braggart; for I have been down at
both havens; that which is situate at the mouth of Thames, and is named
after the capital of Old England, and that which is called 'Haven,' with
the addition of the word 'New'; and have seen the snows and brigantines
collecting their droves, like the gathering to the ark, being outward
bound to the Island of Jamaica, for the purpose of barter and traffic in
four-footed animals; but never before have I beheld a beast which
verified the true Scripture war-horse like this: 'He paweth in the
valley, and rejoiceth in his strength: he goeth on to meet the armed
men. He saith among the trumpets, Ha, ha; and he smelleth the battle
afar off, the thunder of the captains, and the shouting.' It would seem
that the stock of the horse of Israel has descended to our own time;
would it not, friend?"

Receiving no reply to this extraordinary appeal, which in truth, as it
was delivered with the vigor of full and sonorous tones, merited some
sort of notice, he who had thus sung forth the language of the Holy Book
turned to the silent figure to whom he had unwittingly addressed
himself, and found a new and more powerful subject of admiration in the
object that encountered his gaze. His eyes fell on the still, upright,
and rigid form of the "Indian runner," who had borne to the camp the
unwelcome tidings of the preceding evening. Although in a state of
perfect repose, and apparently disregarding, with characteristic
stoicism, the excitement and bustle around him, there was a sullen
fierceness mingled with the quiet of the savage, that was likely to
arrest the attention of much more experienced eyes than those which now
scanned him, in unconcealed amazement. The native bore both the tomahawk
and knife of his tribe; and yet his appearance was not altogether that
of a warrior. On the contrary, there was an air of neglect about his
person, like that which might have proceeded from great and recent
exertion, which he had not yet found leisure to repair. The colors of
the war-paint had blended in dark confusion about his fierce
countenance, and rendered his swarthy lineaments still more savage and
repulsive than if art had attempted an effect which had been thus
produced by chance. His eye, alone, which glistened like a fiery star
amid lowering clouds, was to be seen in its state of native wildness.
For a single instant, his searching and yet wary glance met the
wondering look of the other, and then changing its direction, partly in
cunning, and partly in disdain, it remained fixed, as if penetrating the
distant air.

It is impossible to say what unlooked-for remark this short and silent
communication, between two such singular men, might have elicited from
the white man, had not his active curiosity been again drawn to other
objects. A general movement among the domestics, and a low sound of
gentle voices, announced the approach of those whose presence alone was
wanted to enable the cavalcade to move. The simple admirer of the
war-horse instantly fell back to a low, gaunt, switch-tailed mare, that
was unconsciously gleaning the faded herbage of the camp nigh by; where,
leaning with one elbow on the blanket that concealed an apology for a
saddle, he became a spectator of the departure, while a foal was quietly
making its morning repast, on the opposite side of the same animal.

A young man, in the dress of an officer, conducted to their steeds two
females, who, as it was apparent by their dresses, were prepared to
encounter the fatigues of a journey in the woods. One, and she was the
most juvenile in her appearance, though both were young, permitted
glimpses of her dazzling complexion, fair golden hair, and bright blue
eyes, to be caught, as she artlessly suffered the morning air to blow
aside the green veil which descended low from her beaver. The flush
which still lingered above the pines in the western sky was not more
bright nor delicate than the bloom on her cheek; nor was the opening day
more cheering than the animated smile which she bestowed on the youth,
as he assisted her into the saddle. The other, who appeared to share
equally in the attentions of the young officer, concealed her charms
from the gaze of the soldiery, with a care that seemed better fitted to
the experience of four or five additional years. It could be seen,
however, that her person, though moulded with the same exquisite
proportions, of which none of the graces were lost by the travelling
dress she wore, was rather fuller and more mature than that of her
companion.

No sooner were these females seated, than their attendant sprang lightly
into the saddle of the war-horse, when the whole three bowed to Webb,
who, in courtesy, awaited their parting on the threshold of his cabin,
and turning their horses' heads, they proceeded at a slow amble,
followed by their train, towards the northern entrance of the
encampment. As they traversed that short distance, not a voice was
heard amongst them; but a slight exclamation proceeded from the younger
of the females, as the Indian runner glided by her, unexpectedly, and
led the way along the military road in her front. Though this sudden and
startling movement of the Indian produced no sound from the other, in
the surprise her veil also was allowed to open its folds, and betrayed
an indescribable look of pity, admiration, and horror, as her dark eye
followed the easy motions of the savage. The tresses of this lady were
shining and black, like the plumage of the raven. Her complexion was not
brown, but it rather appeared charged with the color of the rich blood,
that seemed ready to burst its bounds. And yet there was neither
coarseness nor want of shadowing in a countenance that was exquisitely
regular and dignified, and surpassingly beautiful. She smiled, as if in
pity at her own momentary forgetfulness, discovering by the act a row of
teeth that would have shamed the purest ivory; when, replacing the veil,
she bowed her face, and rode in silence, like one whose thoughts were
abstracted from the scene around her.




  "Sola, sola, wo, ha, ho, sola!"

  SHAKESPEARE.


While one of the lovely beings we have so cursorily presented to the
reader was thus lost in thought, the other quickly recovered from the
alarm which induced the exclamation, and, laughing at her own weakness,
she inquired of the youth who rode by her side,--

"Are such spectres frequent in the woods, Heyward; or is this sight an
especial entertainment on our behalf? If the latter, gratitude must
close our mouths; but if the former, both Cora and I shall have need to
draw largely on that stock of hereditary courage which we boast, even
before we are made to encounter the redoubtable Montcalm."

"Yon Indian is a 'runner' of the army; and, after the fashion of his
people, he may be accounted a hero," returned the officer. "He has
volunteered to guide us to the lake, by a path but little known, sooner
than if we followed the tardy movements of the column: and, by
consequence, more agreeably."

"I like him not," said the lady, shuddering, partly in assumed, yet more
in real terror. "You know him, Duncan, or you would not trust yourself
so freely to his keeping?"

"Say, rather, Alice, that I would not trust you. I do know him, or he
would not have my confidence, and least of all at this moment. He is
said to be a Canadian, too; and yet he served with our friends the
Mohawks, who, as you know, are one of the six allied nations.[3] He was
brought among us, as I have heard, by some strange accident in which
your father was interested, and in which the savage was rigidly dealt
by--but I forget the idle tale; it is enough, that he is now our
friend."

"If he has been my father's enemy, I like him still less!" exclaimed the
now really anxious girl. "Will you not speak to him, Major Heyward, that
I may hear his tones? Foolish though it may be, you have often heard me
avow my faith in the tones of the human voice!"

"It would be in vain; and answered, most probably, by an ejaculation.
Though he may understand it, he affects, like most of his people, to be
ignorant of the English; and least of all will he condescend to speak
it, now that war demands the utmost exercise of his dignity. But he
stops; the private path by which we are to journey is, doubtless, at
hand."

The conjecture of Major Heyward was true. When they reached the spot
where the Indian stood, pointing into the thicket that fringed the
military road, a narrow and blind path, which might, with some little
inconvenience, receive one person at a time, became visible.

"Here, then, lies our way," said the young man, in a low voice.
"Manifest no distrust, or you may invite the danger you appear to
apprehend."

"Cora, what think you?" asked the reluctant fair one. "If we journey
with the troops, though we may find their presence irksome, shall we not
feel better assurance of our safety?"

"Being little accustomed to the practices of the savages, Alice, you
mistake the place of real danger," said Heyward. "If enemies have
reached the portage at all, a thing by no means probable, as our scouts
are abroad, they will surely be found skirting the column where scalps
abound the most. The route of the detachment is known, while ours,
having been determined within the hour, must still be secret."

"Should we distrust the man because his manners are not our manners, and
that his skin is dark?" coldly asked Cora.

Alice hesitated no longer; but giving her Narragansett[4] a smart cut
of the whip, she was the first to dash aside the slight branches of the
bushes, and to follow the runner along the dark and tangled pathway. The
young man regarded the last speaker in open admiration, and even
permitted her fairer though certainly not more beautiful companion to
proceed unattended, while he sedulously opened the way himself for the
passage of her who has been called Cora. It would seem that the
domestics had been previously instructed; for, instead of penetrating
the thicket, they followed the route of the column; a measure which
Heyward stated had been dictated by the sagacity of their guide, in
order to diminish the marks of their trail, if, haply, the Canadian
savages should be lurking so far in advance of their army. For many
minutes the intricacy of the route admitted of no further dialogue;
after which they emerged from the broad border of underbrush which grew
along the line of the highway, and entered under the high but dark
arches of the forest. Here their progress was less interrupted, and the
instant the guide perceived that the females could command their steeds,
he moved on, at a pace between a trot and a walk, and at a rate which
kept the sure-footed and peculiar animals they rode, at a fast yet easy
amble. The youth had turned to speak to the dark-eyed Cora, when the
distant sound of horses' hoofs, clattering over the roots of the broken
way in his rear, caused him to check his charger; and, as his companions
drew their reins at the same instant, the whole party came to a halt, in
order to obtain an explanation of the unlooked-for interruption.

In a few moments a colt was seen gliding, like a fallow-deer, among the
straight trunks of the pines; and, in another instant, the person of the
ungainly man described in the preceding chapter, came into view, with as
much rapidity as he could excite his meagre beast to endure without
coming to an open rupture. Until now this personage had escaped the
observation of the travellers. If he possessed the power to arrest any
wandering eye when exhibiting the glories of his altitude on foot, his
equestrian graces were still more likely to attract attention.
Notwithstanding a constant application of his one armed heel to the
flanks of the mare, the most confirmed gait that he could establish was
a Canterbury gallop with the hind legs, in which those more forward
assisted for doubtful moments, though generally content to maintain a
loping trot. Perhaps the rapidity of the changes from one of these paces
to the other created an optical illusion, which might thus magnify the
powers of the beast; for it is certain that Heyward, who possessed a
true eye for the merits of a horse, was unable, with his utmost
ingenuity, to decide by what sort of movement his pursuer worked his
sinuous way on his footsteps with such persevering hardihood.

The industry and movements of the rider were not less remarkable than
those of the ridden. At each change in the evolutions of the latter, the
former raised his tall person in the stirrups; producing, in this
manner, by the undue elongation of his legs, such sudden growths and
diminishings of the stature, as baffled every conjecture that might be
made as to his dimensions. If to this be added the fact that, in
consequence of the ex parte application of the spur, one side of the
mare appeared to journey faster than the other; and that the aggrieved
flank was resolutely indicated by unremitted flourishes of a bushy tail,
we finish the picture of both horse and man.

The frown which had gathered around the handsome, open, and manly brow
of Heyward, gradually relaxed, and his lips curled into a slight smile,
as he regarded the stranger. Alice made no very powerful effort to
control her merriment; and even the dark, thoughtful eye of Cora lighted
with a humor that, it would seem, the habit, rather than the nature of
its mistress repressed.

"Seek you any here?" demanded Heyward, when the other had arrived
sufficiently nigh to abate his speed; "I trust you are no messenger of
evil tidings?"

"Even so," replied the stranger, making diligent use of his triangular
castor, to produce a circulation in the close air of the woods, and
leaving his hearers in doubt to which of the young man's questions he
responded; when, however, he had cooled his face, and recovered his
breath, he continued, "I hear you are riding to William Henry; as I am
journeying thitherward myself, I concluded good company would seem
consistent to the wishes of both parties."

"You appear to possess the privilege of a casting vote," returned
Heyward; "we are three, whilst you have consulted no one but yourself."

"Even so. The first point to be obtained is to know one's own mind. Once
sure of that, and where women are concerned, it is not easy, the next
is, to act up to the decision. I have endeavored to do both, and here I
am."

"If you journey to the lake, you have mistaken your route," said
Heyward, haughtily; "the highway thither is at least half a mile behind
you."

"Even so," returned the stranger, nothing daunted by this cold
reception; "I have tarried at 'Edward' a week, and I should be dumb not
to have inquired the road I was to journey; and if dumb there would be
an end to my calling." After simpering in a small way, like one whose
modesty prohibited a more open expression of his admiration of a
witticism that was perfectly unintelligible to his hearers, he
continued: "It is not prudent for any one of my profession to be too
familiar with those he is to instruct; for which reason I follow not the
line of the army; besides which, I conclude that a gentleman of your
character has the best judgment in matters of wayfaring; I have
therefore decided to join company, in order that the ride may be made
agreeable, and partake of social communion."

"A most arbitrary, if not a hasty decision!" exclaimed Heyward,
undecided whether to give vent to his growing anger, or to laugh in the
other's face. "But you speak of instruction, and of a profession; are
you an adjunct to the provincial corps, as a master of the noble science
of defence and offence; or, perhaps, you are one who draws lines and
angles, under the pretence of expounding the mathematics?"

The stranger regarded his interrogator a moment, in wonder; and then,
losing every mark of self-satisfaction in an expression of solemn
humility, he answered:--

"Of offence, I hope there is none, to either party: of defence, I make
none--by God's good mercy, having committed no palpable sin since last
entreating his pardoning grace. I understand not your allusions about
lines and angles; and I leave expounding to those who have been called
and set apart for that holy office. I lay claim to no higher gift than a
small insight into the glorious art of petitioning and thanksgiving, as
practised in psalmody."

"The man is, most manifestly, a disciple of Apollo," cried the amused
Alice, "and I take him under my own especial protection. Nay, throw
aside that frown, Heyward, and in pity to my longing ears, suffer him to
journey in our train. Besides," she added, in a low and hurried voice,
casting a glance at the distant Cora, who slowly followed the footsteps
of their silent but sullen guide, "it may be a friend added to our
strength, in time of need."

"Think you, Alice, that I would trust those I love by this secret path,
did I imagine such need could happen?"

"Nay, nay, I think not of it now; but this strange man amuses me; and if
he 'hath music in his soul,' let us not churlishly reject his company."
She pointed persuasively along the path with her riding-whip, while
their eyes met in a look which the young man lingered a moment to
prolong; then yielding to her gentle influence, he clapped his spurs
into his charger, and in a few bounds was again at the side of Cora.

"I am glad to encounter thee, friend," continued the maiden, waving her
hand to the stranger to proceed, as she urged her Narragansett to renew
its amble. "Partial relatives have almost persuaded me that I am not
entirely worthless in a duet myself; and we may enliven our wayfaring by
indulging in our favorite pursuit. It might be of signal advantage to
one, ignorant as I, to hear the opinions and experience of a master in
the art."

"It is refreshing both to the spirits and to the body to indulge in
psalmody, in befitting seasons," returned the master of song,
unhesitatingly complying with her intimation to follow; "and nothing
would relieve the mind more than such a consoling communion. But four
parts are altogether necessary to the perfection of melody. You have all
the manifestations of a soft and rich treble; I can, by especial aid,
carry a full tenor to the highest letter; but we lack counter and bass!
Yon officer of the king, who hesitated to admit me to his company, might
fill the latter, if one may judge from the intonations of his voice in
common dialogue."

"Judge not too rashly from hasty and deceptive appearances," said the
lady, smiling; "though Major Heyward can assume such deep notes on
occasion, believe me, his natural tones are better fitted for a mellow
tenor than the bass you heard."

"Is he, then, much practised in the art of psalmody?" demanded her
simple companion.

Alice felt disposed to laugh, though she succeeded in suppressing her
merriment, ere she answered,--

"I apprehend that he is rather addicted to profane song. The chances of
a soldier's life are but little fitted for the encouragement of more
sober inclinations."

"Man's voice is given to him, like his other talents, to be used, and
not to be abused. None can say they have ever known me neglect my gifts!
I am thankful that, though my boyhood may be said to have been set
apart, like the youth of the royal David, for the purposes of music, no
syllable of rude verse has ever profaned my lips."

"You have, then, limited your efforts to sacred song?"

"Even so. As the psalms of David exceed all other language, so does the
psalmody that has been fitted to them by the divines and sages of the
land, surpass all vain poetry. Happily, I may say that I utter nothing
but the thoughts and the wishes of the King of Israel himself; for
though the times may call for some slight changes, yet does this version
which we use in the colonies of New England, so much exceed all other
versions, that, by its richness, its exactness, and its spiritual
simplicity, it approacheth, as near as may be, to the great work of the
inspired writer. I never abide in any place, sleeping or waking, without
an example of this gifted work. 'Tis the six-and-twentieth edition,
promulgated at Boston, Anno Domini 1744; and is entitled, _The Psalms,
Hymns, and Spiritual Songs of the Old and New Testaments; faithfully
translated into English Metre, for the Use, Edification, and Comfort of
the Saints, in Public and Private, especially in New England_."

During this eulogium on the rare production of his native poets, the
stranger had drawn the book from his pocket, and, fitting a pair of
iron-rimmed spectacles to his nose, opened the volume with a care and
veneration suited to its sacred purposes. Then, without circumlocution
or apology, first pronouncing the word "Standish," and placing the
unknown engine, already described, to his mouth, from which he drew a
high, shrill sound, that was followed by an octave below, from his own
voice, he commenced singing the following words, in full, sweet, and
melodious tones, that set the music, the poetry, and even the uneasy
motion of his ill-trained beast at defiance:--

  "How good it is, O see,
    And how it pleaseth well,
  Together, e'en in unity,
    For brethren so to dwell.
  It's like the choice ointment,
    From the head to the beard did go:
  Down Aaron's beard, that downward went,
    His garment's skirts unto."

The delivery of these skilful rhymes was accompanied, on the part of the
stranger, by a regular rise and fall of his right hand, which
terminated at the descent, by suffering the fingers to dwell a moment on
the leaves of the little volume; and on the ascent, by such a flourish
of the member as none but the initiated may ever hope to imitate. It
would seem that long practice had rendered this manual accompaniment
necessary; for it did not cease until the preposition which the poet had
selected for the close of his verse, had been duly delivered like a word
of two syllables.

Such an innovation on the silence and retirement of the forest could not
fail to enlist the ears of those who journeyed at so short a distance in
advance. The Indian muttered a few words in broken English to Heyward,
who, in his turn, spoke to the stranger; at once interrupting, and, for
the time, closing his musical efforts.

"Though we are not in danger, common prudence would teach us to journey
through this wilderness in as quiet a manner as possible. You will,
then, pardon me, Alice, should I diminish your enjoyments, by requesting
this gentleman to postpone his chant until a safer opportunity."

"You will diminish them, indeed," returned the arch girl, "for never did
I hear a more unworthy conjunction of execution and language, than that
to which I have been listening; and I was far gone in a learned inquiry
into the causes of such an unfitness between sound and sense, when you
broke the charm of my musings by that bass of yours, Duncan!"

"I know not what you call my bass," said Heyward, piqued at her remark,
"but I know that your safety, and that of Cora, is far dearer to me than
could be any orchestra of Handel's music." He paused and turned his head
quickly towards a thicket, and then bent his eyes suspiciously on their
guide, who continued his steady pace, in undisturbed gravity. The young
man smiled to himself, for he believed he had mistaken some shining
berry of the woods for the glistening eyeballs of a prowling savage, and
he rode forward, continuing the conversation which had been interrupted
by the passing thought.

Major Heyward was mistaken only in suffering his youthful and generous
pride to suppress his active watchfulness. The cavalcade had not long
passed, before the branches of the bushes that formed the thicket were
cautiously moved asunder, and a human visage, as fiercely wild as savage
art and unbridled passions could make it, peered out on the retiring
footsteps of the travellers. A gleam of exultation shot across the
darkly painted lineaments of the inhabitant of the forest, as he traced
the route of his intended victims, who rode unconsciously onward; the
light and graceful forms of the females waving among the trees, in the
curvatures of their path, followed at each bend by the manly figure of
Heyward, until, finally, the shapeless person of the singing-master was
concealed behind the numberless trunks of trees, that rose, in dark
lines, in the intermediate space.

 Before any characters appear, the time and geography are made clear. Though it is the last war that England and France waged for a country that neither would retain, the wilderness between the forces still has to be overcome first. Thus it is in 1757, in the New York area between the head waters of the Hudson River and Lake George to the north. Because only two years earlier General Braddock was disgracefully routed by a handful of French and Indians, the frontier is now exposed to real and imaginary savage disasters as well as to the horrors of warfare. Fear has replaced reason. Near dusk of a day in July, an Indian runner named Magua arrives at Fort Edward on the upper Hudson. He has come from Fort William Henry at the southern tip of Lake George with the news that the French General Montcalm is moving south with a very large army and that Munro, commander of Fort William Henry, is in urgent need of plentiful reinforcements from General Webb. Early the next morning, a limited detachment of fifteen hundred regulars and colonists departs as if swallowed by the forest. Shortly afterwards, Major Duncan Heyward and Alice and Cora Munro, guided by Magua on foot, take by horseback a secret route toward William Henry for the girls to join their father. Blonde Alice is doubtful about Magua, covered with war paint and showing a sullen fierceness; but dark-haired Cora is stoically common sense about him, even though Heyward mentions that their father had once had to deal rigidly with the Indian. As the small party pushes on, they are overtaken by David Gamut, a tall, ungainly psalmodist ridiculously dressed and carrying a pitch pipe while riding a mare followed by its young colt. He desires to join them, and after some banter between him and Alice, he pulls out the twenty-sixth edition of The Bay Psalm Book, sounds his pipe, and renders a song "in full, sweet, and melodious tones." At a muttered comment from Magua, Heyward insists upon silence for safety. Then he glances about them and, satisfied that he has seen only shining berries, smiles to himself as they move on. But he is wrong. The branches move and a man peers exultingly after them as they disappear among the dark lines of trees.

