Chapter: "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.

 The Indian runner, whose name is Magua, agrees to guide Heyward and the young women to Fort William Henry by means of a shortcut known only to the Indians. Soon after they leave Fort Edward, they meet a stranger. We later learn his name is David Gamut. Gamut is a psalmodist, a man who worships by singing Old Testament psalms. The mincing and dainty Gamut is out of place in the menacing forest. He left Fort Edward and lost his way. He announces his intention to join the group. Annoyed at Gamut's presumption, Heyward nevertheless shows interest in Gamut's claim to be an instructor, and asks Gamut if he is a mathematician or a scientist. Gamut replies humbly that he knows only the limited insights of psalmody, the then-popular practice of setting biblical teachings to music. Cora is amused by the stranger. Gamut joins their party and sings a religious song native to New England. He behaves seriously and venerably, as though delivering a sermon, and accompanies his psalmody with dramatic hand gestures. Magua eventually interrupts this performance, muttering a few words to Heyward, who translates his words to the others: they must be silent since hostile Indian tribes fill the forest. Major Heyward quickly and confidently scans the forest, pleased that he sees no sign of Indians. His unfamiliarity with the forest makes him unable to see what the trees hide, and he does not notice a wild-eyed Indian peering out at them through the branches

