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Matilda Montgomerie; Or, The Prophecy Fulfilled

by Major Richardson · English · Gutenberg #39758 · 826,725 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: Matilda Montgomerie; Or, The Prophecy Fulfilled

Author: Major Richardson


        
Release date: May 22, 2012 [eBook #39758]

Language: English

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Transcriber's Note: Bold text denoted by =equal signs=.




MATILDA MONTGOMERIE;

OR,

THE PROPHECY FULFILLED.


  A TALE OF THE LATE AMERICAN WAR.
  BEING THE SEQUEL TO WACOUSTA.


  By MAJOR RICHARDSON,
  AUTHOR OF "WACOUSTA," "HARDSCRABBLE," "ECARTE," ETC., ETC.


  NEW YORK:
  POLLARD & MOSS,
  42 Park Place and 37 Barclay Street.
  1888.



CHAPTER I.


At the northern extremity of the small town which bears its name
situated at the head of Lake Erie, stands, or rather stood--for the
fortifications then existing were subsequently destroyed--the small
fortress of Malden.

Few places in America, or in the world, could, at the period embraced by
our narrative, have offered more delightful associations than that which
we have selected for an opening scene. Amherstburg was at that time one
of the loveliest spots that ever issued from the will of a beneficent
and gorgeous nature, and were the world-disgusted wanderer to have
selected a home in which to lose all memory of conventional and
artificial forms, his choice would assuredly have fallen here. And
insensible, indeed, to the beautiful realities of the sweet wild
solitude that reigned around, must that man have been, who could have
gazed unmoved from the banks of the Erie, on the placid lake beneath his
feet, mirroring the bright starred heavens on its unbroken surface, or
throwing into full relief the snow-white sail and dark hull of some
stately war-ship, becalmed in the offing, and only waiting the rising of
the capricious breeze, to waft her onward on her _then_ peaceful mission
of dispatch. Lost indeed to all perception of the natural must he have
been, who could have listened, without a feeling of voluptuous
melancholy, to the plaintive notes of the whip-poor-will, breaking on
the silence of night, and harmonising with the general stillness of the
scene. How often have we ourselves, in joyous boyhood, lingered amid the
beautiful haunts, drinking in the fascinating song of this strange
night-bird, and revelling in a feeling we were too young to analyze, yet
cherished deeply--yea, frequently, up to this hour, do we in our dreams
revisit scenes no parallel to which has met our view, even in the course
of a life passed in many climes; and on awaking, our first emotion is
regret that the illusion is no more.

Such was Amherstburg and its immediate vicinity, during the early years
of the present century, and up to the period at which our story
commences. Not, be it understood that even _then_ the scenery itself had
lost one particle of its loveliness, or failed in aught to awaken and
fix the same tender interest. The same placidity of earth and sky and
lake remained, but the poor whip-poor-will, driven from his customary
abode by the noisy hum of warlike preparation, was no longer heard, and
the minds of the inhabitants, hitherto disposed, by the quiet pursuits
of their uneventful lives, to feel pleasure in its song, had eye or ear
for naught beyond what tended to the preservation of their threatened
homes. It was the commencement of the war of 1812.

Let us, however introduce the reader more immediately to the scene.
Close in his rear, as he stands on the elevated bank of the magnificent
river of Detroit, and about a mile from its point of junction with Lake
Erie, was the fort of Amherstburg, its defences consisting chiefly of
stockade works, flanked, at its several angles, by strong bastions, and
covered by a demi-lune of five guns, so placed as to command every
approach by water. Distant about three hundred yards on his right, was a
large, oblong, square building, resembling in appearance the red,
low-roofed blockhouses peering above the outward defences of the fort.
Surrounding this, and extending to the skirt of the thinned forest, the
original boundary of which was marked by an infinitude of dingy, half
blackened stumps, were to be seen numerous huts or wigwams of the
Indians, from the fires before which arose a smoke that contributed,
with the slight haze of the atmosphere, to envelope the tops of the tall
trees in a veil of blue vapor, rendering them almost invisible. Between
these wigwams and the extreme verge of the thickly wooded banks, which
sweeping in bold curvature for an extent of many miles, brought into
view the eastern extremity of Turkey Island, situated midway between
Amherstburg and Detroit, were to be seen, containing the accumulated
Indian dead of many years, tumuli, rudely executed, it is true, but
picturesquely decorated with such adornments as it is the custom of
these simple mannered people to bestow on the last sanctuaries of their
departed friends. Some three or four miles, and across the water, (for
it is here that the river acquires her fullest majesty of expansion,) is
to be seen the American island of Gros Isle, which, at the period of
which we write, bore few traces of cultivation--scarcely a habitation
being visible throughout its extent--various necks of land, however,
shoot out abruptly, and independently of the channel running between it
and the American main shore, form small bays or harbors in which boats
may always find shelter and concealment.

Thus far the view to the right of the spectator, whom we assume to be
facing the river. Immediately opposite to the covering demi-lune, and in
front of the fort, appeared, at a distance of less than half a mile, a
blockhouse and battery, crowning the western extremity of the island of
Bois Blanc, one mile in length, and lashed at its opposite extremity by
the waters of Lake Erie, which, at this precise point receives into her
capacious bosom the vast tribute of the noble river connecting her with
the higher lakes. Between this island and the Canadian shore lies the
only navigable channel for ships of heavy tonnage, for although the
waters of the Detroit are of vast depth every where above the island,
they are near their point of junction with the lake, and, in what is
called the American channel, so interrupted by shallows and sandbars,
that no craft larger than those of a description termed "Durham boats,"
can effect the passage--on the other hand the channel dividing the
island from the Canadian shore is at once deep and rapid, and capable of
receiving vessels of the largest size. The importance of such a passage
was obvious; but although a state of war necessarily prevented aid from
armed vessels to such forts of the Americans as lay to the westward of
the lake, it by no means effectually cut off their supplies through the
medium of the Durham boats already alluded to. In order to intercept
those, a most vigilant watch was kept by the light gun boats despatched
into the lesser channel for that purpose.

A blockhouse and battery crowned also the eastern extremity of the
island, and both, provided with a flagstaff for the purpose of
communication by signal with the fort, were far from being wanting in
picturesque effect. A subaltern's command of infantry, and a
bombvadier's of artillery, were the only troops stationed there, and
these were rather to look out for and report the approach of whatever
American boats might be seen stealing along their own channel, than with
any view to the serious defence of a post already sufficiently commanded
by the adjacent fortress. In every other direction the island was
thickly wooded--not a house, not a hut arose, to diversify the wild
beauty of the scene. Frequently, it is true, along the margin of its
sands might be seen a succession of Indian wigwams, and the dusky and
sinewy forms of men gliding round their fires, as they danced to the
monotonous sound of the war dance; but these migratory people seldom
continuing long in the same spot, the island was again and again left to
its solitude.

Strongly contrasted with this, would the spectator, whom we still
suppose standing on the bank where we first placed him, find the view on
his left. There would he have beheld a small town, composed entirely of
wooden houses variously and not inelegantly painted; and receding
gradually from the river's edge to the slowly disappearing forest, on
which its latest rude edifice reposed. Between the town and the fort,
was to be seen a dockyard of no despicable dimensions, in which the hum
of human voices mingled with the sound of active labor--there too might
be seen, in the deep harbor of the narrow channel that separated the
town from the island we have just described, some half-dozen gallant
vessels bearing the colors of England, breasting with their dark prows
the rapid current that strained their creaking cables in every strand,
and seemingly impatient of the curb that checked them from gliding
impetuously into the broad lake, which, some few hundred yards below,
appeared to court them to her bosom. But although in these might be
heard the bustle of warlike preparation, the chief attention would be
observed to be directed towards a large half finished vessel, on which
numerous workmen of all descriptions were busily employed, evidently
with a view of preparing for immediate service.

Beyond the town again might be obtained a view of the high and
cultivated banks, sweeping in gentle curve until they at length
terminated in a low and sandy spot, called, from the name of its
proprietor, Elliott's point. This stretched itself towards the eastern
extremity of the island, so as to leave the outlet to the lake barely
wide enough for a single vessel to pass at a time, and that not without
skilful pilotage and much caution.

Assuming the reader to be now as fully familiar with the scene as
ourselves, let him next, in imagination, people it, as on the occasion
we have chosen for his introduction. It was a warm, sunny day, in the
early part of July. The town itself was as quiet as if the glaive of war
reposed in its sheath, and the inhabitants pursued their wonted
avocations with the air of men who had nothing in common with the active
interest which evidently dominated the more military portions of the
scene. It was clear that among these latter some cause for excitement
existed, for, independently of the unceasing bustle within the
dockyard--a bustle which however had but one undivided object, the
completion and equipment of the large vessel then on the stocks--the
immediate neighborhood of the fort presented evidence of some more than
ordinary interest. The encampment of the Indians on the verge of the
forest, had given forth the great body of their warriors, and these clad
in their gayest apparel, covered with feathers and leggings of bright
colors, decorated with small tinkling bells that fell not inharmoniously
on the ear, as they kept tune to the measured walk of their proud
wearers, were principally assembled around and in front of the large
building we have described as being without, yet adjacent to, the fort.
These warriors might have been about a thousand in number, and
amused themselves variously--(the younger at least)--with
leaping--wrestling--ball-playing--and the foot race--in all which
exercises they are unrivalled. The elders bore no part in these
amusements, but stood, or sat cross-legged on the edge of the bank,
smoking their pipes, and expressing their approbation of the prowess or
dexterity of the victors in the games, by guttural, yet rapidly uttered
exclamations. Mingled with these were some six or seven individuals,
whose glittering costume of scarlet announced them for officers of the
garrison, and elsewhere disposed, some along the banks and crowding the
battery in front of the fort, or immediately round the building, yet
quite apart from their officers, were a numerous body of the inferior
soldiery.

But although these distinct parties were assembled, to all appearance,
with a view, the one to perform in, the other to witness, the active
sports we have enumerated, a close observer of the movements of all
would have perceived there was something more important in
contemplation, to the enactment of which these exercises were but the
prelude. Both officers and men, and even the participators in the
sports, turned their gaze frequently up the Detroit, as if they expected
some important approach. The broad reach of the wide river, affording an
undisturbed view, as we have stated, for a distance of some nine or ten
miles, where commenced the near extremity of Turkey Island, presented
nothing, however, as yet, to their gaze, and repeatedly were the
telescopes of the officers raised only to fall in disappointment from
the eye. At length a number of small dark specks were seen studding the
tranquil bosom of the river, as they emerged rapidly, one after the
other, from the cover of the island. The communication was made, by him
who first discovered them, to his companions. The elder Indians who sat
near the spot on which the officers stood, were made acquainted with
what even their own sharp sight could not distinguish unaided by the
glass. One sprang to his feet, raised the telescope to his eye, and with
an exclamation of wonder at the strange properties of the instrument,
confirmed to his followers the truth of the statement. The elders,
principally chiefs, spoke in various tongues to their respective
warriors. The sports were abandoned, and all crowded to the bank with
anxiety and interest depicted in their attitudes and demeanor.

Meanwhile the dark specks upon the water increased momentarily in size.
Presently they could be distinguished for canoes, which, rapidly
impelled, and aided in their course by the swift current, were not long
in developing themselves to the naked eye. These canoes, about fifty in
number, were of bark, and of so light a description, that a man of
ordinary strength might, without undergoing serious fatigue, carry one
for miles. The warriors who now propelled them, were naked in all save
their leggings and waist cloths, their bodies and faces begrimed with
paint: and as they drew near, fifteen was observed to be the complement
of each. They sat by twos on the narrow thwarts; and, with their faces
to the prow, dipped their paddles simultaneously into the stream, with a
regularity of movement not to be surpassed by the most experienced
boat's crew of Europe. In the stern of each sat a chief guiding his bark
with the same unpretending but skilful and efficient paddle, and behind
him drooping in the breezeless air, and trailing in the silvery tide,
was to be seen a long pendant, bearing the red cross of England.

It was a novel and beautiful sight to behold that imposing fleet of
canoes, apparently so frail in texture that the dropping of a pebble
between the skeleton ribs might be deemed sufficient to perforate and
sink them, yet withal so ingeniously contrived as to bear safely not
only the warriors who formed their crews, but also their arms of all
descriptions, and such light equipment of raiment and necessaries as
were indispensable to men who had to voyage long and far in pursuit of
the goal they were now rapidly attaining. The Indians already encamped
near the fort, were warriors of nations long rendered familiar by
personal intercourse, not only with the inhabitants of the district, but
with the troops themselves; and these, from frequent association with
the whites, had lost much of that fierceness which is so characteristic
of the North American Indian in his ruder state. Among these, with the
more intelligent Hurons, were the remnants of those very tribes of
Shawnees and Delawares whom we have recorded to have borne, half a
century ago, so prominent a share in the confederacy against England,
but who, after the termination of that disastrous war, had so far
abandoned their wild hostility, as to have settled in various points of
contiguity to the forts to which they, periodically, repaired to receive
those presents which a judicious policy so profusely bestowed.

The reinforcement just arriving was composed principally of warriors who
had never yet pressed a soil wherein civilization had extended her
influence--men who had never hitherto beheld the face of a white, unless
it were that of the Canadian trader, who, at stated periods, penetrated
fearlessly into their wilds for purposes of traffic, and who to the
bronzed cheek that exposure had rendered nearly as swarthy as their own,
united not only the language but so wholly the dress--or rather the
undress of those he visited, that he might easily have been confounded
with one of their own dark-blooded race. So remote, indeed, were the
regions in which some of these warriors had been sought, that they were
strangers to the existence of more than one of their tribes, and upon
these they gazed with a surprise only inferior to what they manifested,
when, for the first time, they marked the accoutrements of the British
soldier, and turned with secret, but acknowledged awe and admiration
upon the frowning fort and stately shipping, bristling with cannon, and
vomiting forth sheets of flame as they approached the shore. In these
might have been studied the natural dignity of man. Firm of step--proud
of mien--haughty and penetrating of look, each leader offered in his own
person a model to the sculptor, which he might vainly seek elsewhere.
Free and unfettered every limb, they moved in the majesty of nature, and
with an air of dark reserve, passed, on landing, through the admiring
crowd.

There was one of the number, however, and his canoe was decorated with a
richer and a larger flag, whose costume was that of the more civilized
Indians, and who in nobleness of deportment, even surpassed those we
have last named. This was Tecumseh. He was not of the race of either of
the parties who now accompanied him, but of one of the nations, many of
whose warriors were assembled on the bank awaiting his arrival. As the
head chief of the Indians, his authority was acknowledged by all, even
to the remotest of these wild but interesting people, and the result of
the exercise of his all-powerful influence had been the gathering
together of those warriors, whom he had personally hastened to collect
from the extreme west, passing in his course and with impunity, the
several American posts that lay in their way.

It was amidst the blaze of a united salvo from the demi-lune crowning
the bank, and from the shipping, that the noble chieftain, accompanied
by the leaders of those wild tribes, leaped lightly, yet proudly to the
beach; and having ascended the steep bank by a flight of rude steps cut
out of the earth, finally stood amid the party of officers waiting to
receive them. It would not a little have surprised a Bond street
exquisite of that day to have witnessed the cordiality with which the
dark hand of the savage was successively pressed in the fairer palms of
the English officers, neither would his astonishment have been abated,
on remarking the proud dignity of carriage maintained by the former, in
this exchange of courtesy, as though, while he joined heart to hand
wherever the latter fell, he seemed rather to bestow than to receive a
condescension.

Had none of those officers ever previously beheld him, the fame of his
heroic deeds had gone sufficiently before the warrior to have insured
him their warmest greeting and approbation, and none could mistake a
form that, even amid those who were a password for native majesty, stood
alone in its bearing; but Tecumseh was a stranger to few. Since his
defeat on the Wabash he had been much at Amherstburg where he had
rendered himself conspicuous by one or two animated and highly eloquent
speeches, having for their object the consolidation of a treaty, in
which the Indian interests were subsequently bound in close union with
those of England; and, up to the moment of his recent expedition, had
cultivated the most perfect understanding with the English chiefs.

It might, however, be seen that even while pleasure and satisfaction at
a reunion with those he in turn esteemed, flashed from his dark and
eager eye, there was still lurking about his manner that secret jealousy
of distinction, which is so characteristic of the haughty Indian. After
the first warm salutations had passed, he became sensible of the absence
of the English chief; but this was expressed rather by a certain
outswelling of his chest, and the searching glance of his restless eye,
than by any words that fell from his lips. Presently, he whom he sought,
and whose person had hitherto been concealed by the battery on the bank,
was seen advancing towards him, accompanied by his personal staff. In a
moment the shade passed away from the brow of the warrior, and warmly
grasping and pressing, for the second time, the hand of a youth--one of
the group of junior officers among whom he yet stood, and who had
manifested even more than his companions the unbounded pleasure he took
in the chieftain's re-appearance--he moved forward, with an ardor of
manner that was with difficulty restrained by his sense of dignity, to
give them the meeting.

The first of the advancing party was a tall, martial looking man,
wearing the dress and insignia of a general officer. His rather florid
countenance was eminently fine, if not handsome, offering, in its more
Roman than Grecian contour, a model of quiet, manly beauty; while the
eye beaming with intelligence and candor, gave, in the occasional
flashes which it emitted, indication of a mind of no common order. There
was, notwithstanding, a benevolence of expression about it that blended
(in a manner to excite attention) with a dignity of deportment, as much
the result of habitual self command, as of the proud eminence of
distinction on which he stood. The sedative character of middle age,
added to long acquired military habits, had given a certain rigidity to
his fine form, that might have made him appear to a first observer even
older than he was, but the placidity of a countenance beaming good will
and affability, speedily removed the impression, and, if the portly
figure added to his years, the unfurrowed countenance took from them in
equal proportion.

At his side, hanging on his arm and habited in naval uniform, appeared
one who, from his familiarity of address with the General, not less than
by certain appropriate badges of distinction, might be known as the
commander of the little fleet then lying in the harbor. Shorter in
person than his companion, his frame made up in activity what it wanted
in height, and there was that easy freedom in his movements which so
usually distinguishes the carriage of the sailor, and which now offered
a remarkable contrast to that rigidity we have stated to have attached,
albeit unaffectedly, to the military commander. His eyes, of a much
darker hue, sparkled with a livelier intelligence, and although his
complexion was also highly florid, it was softened down by the general
vivacity of expression that pervaded his frank and smiling countenance.
The features, regular and still youthful, wore a bland and pleasing
character; while neither, in look, nor bearing, nor word could there be
traced any of that haughty reserve usually ascribed to the "lords of the
sea." There needed no other herald to proclaim him for one who had
already seen honorable service, than the mutilated stump of what had
once been an arm: yet in this there was no boastful display, as of one
who deemed he had a right to tread more proudly because he had chanced
to suffer, where all had been equally exposed, in the performance of a
common duty. The empty sleeve, unostentatiously fastened by a loop from
the wrist to a button of the lapel, was suffered to fall at his side,
and by no one was the deficiency less remarked than by himself.

The greeting between Tecumseh and these officers, was such as might be
expected from warriors bound to each other by mutual esteem. Each held
the other in the highest honor, but it was particularly remarked that
while the Indian Chieftain looked up to the General with the respect he
felt to be due to him, his address to his companion, whom he now beheld
for the first time, was warmer, and more energetic; and as he repeatedly
glanced at the armless sleeve, he uttered one of those quick ejaculatory
exclamations, peculiar to his race, and indicating, in this instance,
the fullest extent of approbation. The secret bond of sympathy which
chained his interest to the sailor, might have owed its being to another
cause. In the countenance of the latter there was much of that eagerness
of expression, and in the eye that vivacious fire, that flashed, even in
repose, from his own swarthier and more speaking features; and this
assimilation of character might have been the means of producing that
preference for, and devotedness to, the cause of the naval commander,
that subsequently developed itself in the chieftain. In a word, the
General seemed to claim the admiration and the respect of the
Indian--the Commodore, his admiration and friendship.

The greeting between these generous leaders was brief. When the first
salutations had been interchanged, it was intimated to Tecumseh, through
the medium of an interpreter then in attendance on the General, that a
war-council had been ordered, for the purpose of taking into
consideration the best means of defeating the designs of the Americans,
who, with a view to offensive operations, had, in the interval of the
warrior's absence, pushed on a considerable force to the frontier. The
council, however, had been delayed, in order that it might have the
benefit of his opinions and of his experience in the peculiar warfare
which was about to be commenced.

Tecumseh acknowledged his sense of the communication with the bold
frankness of the inartificial son of nature, scorning to conceal his
just self-estimate beneath a veil of affected modesty. He knew his own
worth, and while he overvalued not one iota of that worth, so did he not
affect to disclaim a consciousness of the fact--that within his swarthy
chest and active brain, there beat a heart and lived a judgment, as
prompt to conceive and execute as those of the proudest _he_ that ever
swayed the destinies of a warlike people. Replying to the complimentary
invitation of the General, he unhesitatingly said he had done well to
await his arrival, before he determined on the course of action, and
that he should now have the full benefit of his opinions and advice.

If the chief had been forcibly prepossessed in favor of the naval
commander the latter had not been less interested. Since his recent
arrival to assume the direction of the fleet, Commodore Barclay had had
opportunities of seeing such of the chiefs as were then assembled at
Amherstburg; but great as had been his admiration of several of these,
he had been given to understand they fell far short, in every moral and
physical advantage, of what their renowned leader would be found to
possess, when, on his return from the expedition in which he was
engaged, fitting opportunity should be had of bringing them in personal
proximity. This admission was now made in the fullest sense, and as the
warrior moved away to give the greetings to the several chiefs, and
conduct them to the council hall, the gallant sailor could not refrain
from expressing in the warmest terms to General Brock, as they moved
slowly forward with the same intention, the enthusiastic admiration
excited in him by the person, the manner, and the bearing, of the noble
Tecumseh.

Again the cannon from the battery and the shipping pealed forth their
thunder. It was the signal for the commencement of the council, and the
scene at that moment was one of the most picturesque that can well be
imagined. The sky was cloudless, and the river, no longer ruffled by the
now motionless barks of the recently arrived Indians, yet obeying the
action of the tide, offered, as it glided onward to the lake, the image
of a flood of quicksilver; while, in the distance that lake itself,
smooth as a mirror, spread far and wide. Close under the bank yet
lingered the canoes, emptied only of their helmsmen (the chiefs of the
several tribes,) while with strange tongues and wilder gestures, the
warriors of these, as they rested on their paddles, greeted the loud
report of the cannon--now watching with eager eye the flashes from the
vessel's sides, and now upturning their gaze, and following with wild
surprise, the deepening volumes of smoke that passed immediately over
their heads, from the guns of the battery, hidden from their view by
the elevated and overhanging bank. Blended with each discharge arose the
wild yell, which they, in such a moment of novel excitement, felt it
impossible to control, and this, answered by the Indians above, and
borne in echo almost to the American shore, had in it something
indescribably grand and startling. On the bank itself the scene was
singularly picturesque. Here were to be seen the bright uniforms of the
British officers, at the head of whom was the tall and martial figure of
General Brock, furthermore conspicuous from the full and drooping
feather that fell gracefully over his military hat, mingled with the
wilder and more fanciful head-dresses of the chiefs. Behind these again,
and sauntering at a pace that showed them to have no share in the
deliberative assembly, whither those we have just named were now
proceeding, amid the roar of artillery, yet mixed together in nearly as
great dissimilarity of garb, were to be seen numbers of the inferior
warriors and of the soldiery--while, in various directions, the games
recently abandoned by the adult Indians were now resumed by mere boys.
The whole picture was one of strong animation, contrasting as it did
with the quiet of the little post on the Island, where some twelve or
fifteen men, composing the strength of the detachment, were sitting or
standing on the battery, crowned, as well as the fort and shipping, and
in compliment to the newly arrived Indians, with the colors of England.

Such was the scene, varied only as the numerous actors in it varied
their movements, when the event occurred with which we commence our next
chapter.




CHAPTER II.


Several hours had passed away in the interesting discussion of their war
plans, and the council was nearly concluded, when suddenly the attention
both of the officers and chiefs was arrested by the report of a single
cannon. From the direction of the sound, it was evident that the shot
had been fired from the battery placed on the southern or lakeward
extremity of the island of Bois Blanc, and as the circumstance was
unusual enough to indicate the existence of some approaching cause for
excitement, several of the younger of both, who, from their youth, had
been prevented from taking any active share in the deliberations of the
day, stole, successively and unobservedly, through the large
folding-doors of the building, which, owing to the great heat of the
weather, had been left open. After traversing about fifty yards of
sward, intersecting the high road, which, running parallel with the
river, separated the council-hall from the elevated bank, the officers
found, collected in groups on the extreme verge of this latter, and
anxiously watching certain movements in the battery opposite to them,
most of the troops and inferior Indians they had left loitering there at
the commencement of the council. These movements were hasty, and as of
men preparing to repeat the shot, the report of which had reached them
from the opposite extremity of the island. Presently the forms, hitherto
intermingled, became separate and stationary--an arm of one was next
extended--then was seen to rise a flash of light, and then a volume of
dense smoke, amid which the loud report found its sullen way, bellowing
like thunder through some blackening cloud, while, from the peculiar
nature of the sound, it was recognised, by the experienced in those
matters, to have proceeded from a shotted gun.

The war of 1812 had its beginning in the manner thus described. They
were the first shots fired in that struggle, and although at an object
little calculated to inspire much alarm, still, as the first indications
of an active hostility, they were proportionably exciting to those whose
lot it was thus to "break ground," for operations on a larger scale.

Although many an eager chief had found it difficult to repress the
strong feeling of mingled curiosity and excitement, that half raised him
from the floor on which he sat, the first shot had been heard without
the effect of actually disturbing the assembly from its fair propriety;
but no sooner had the second report, accompanied as it was by the wild
yell of their followers without, reached their ears, than, wholly losing
sight of the dignity attached to their position as councillors, they
sprang wildly up, and seizing the weapons that lay at their side, rushed
confusedly forth, leaving Tecumseh, and two or three only of the more
aged chiefs, behind them. The debate thus interrupted, the council was
adjourned, and soon afterwards General Brock, accompanied by his staff,
and conversing, through his interpreter, with the Shawnee chieftain as
they walked, approached the groups still crowded along the bank of the
river.

Meanwhile, after the discharge of the last gun, the battery on the
island had been quitted by the officer in command, who, descending to
the beach, preceded by two of his men, stepped into a light skiff that
lay chained to the gnarled root of a tree overhanging the current, and
close under the battery. A few sturdy strokes of the oars soon brought
the boat into the centre of the stream, when the stout, broad-built
figure and carbuncled face of an officer in the uniform of the
forty-first regiment, were successively recognised, as he stood upright
in the stern.

"What the deuce brings Tom Raymond to us in such a hurry? I thought the
order of the general was that he should on no account leave his post,
unless summoned by signal," observed one of the group of younger
officers who had first quitted the council hall, and who now waited with
interest for the landing of their companion.

"What brings him here, can you ask?" replied one at the side of the
questioner, and with a solemnity of tone and manner that caused the
whole of the group to turn their eyes upon him, as he mournfully shook
his head.

"Aye, _what_ brings him here?" repeated more than one voice, while all
closed inquiringly around for information.

"Why the thing is as clear as the carbuncles on his own face--the boat,
to be sure." And the truism was perpetrated with the same provokingly
ludicrous, yet evidently forced, gravity of tone and manner.

"Execrable, Middlemore.--Will you never give over that vile habit of
punning?"

"Detestable!" said another.

"Ridiculous!" repeated a third.

"Pshaw! the worst you ever uttered!" exclaimed a fourth, and each, as he
thus expressed himself, turned away with a movement of impatience.

"That animal, Raymond, grows like a very porpoise," remarked a young
captain, who prided himself on the excessive smallness of his waist.
"Methinks that, like the ground-hogs that abound on his island, he must
fatten on hickory nuts. Only see how the man melts in the noonday sun.
But as you say, Villiers, what can bring him here without an order from
the general? And then the gun last fired. Ha! I have it.--He has
discovered a Yankee boat stealing along through the other channel."

"No doubt there is _craft_ of some description _in the wind_," pursued
the incorrigible Middlemore, with the same affected unconsciousness.

"Ha!" returned Captain Molineux, the officer who had commented so freely
upon the fat lieutenant in the boat--"Your pun, infamous as it would be
at the best, is utterly without point now, for there has not been a
breath of wind stirring during the whole morning."

"Pun, did you say?" exclaimed Middlemore, with well affected surprise at
the charge, "my dear fellow, I meant no pun."

Further remark was checked by an impatience to learn the cause of
Lieutenant Raymond's abrupt appearance, and the officers approached the
principal group. The former had now reached the shore, and, shuffling up
the bank as fast as his own corpulency and the abruptness of the ascent
would permit, hastened to the general, who stood at some little distance
awaiting the expected communication of the messenger.

"Well, Mr. Raymond, what is it--what have you discovered from your
post?" demanded the General, who, with those around him, found
difficulty in repressing a smile at the heated appearance of the fat
subaltern, the loud puffing of whose lungs had been audible before he
himself drew near enough to address the chief--"something important, I
should imagine, if we may judge from the haste with which you appear to
have travelled over the short distance that separates us?"

"Something very important, indeed, General," answered the officer,
touching his undress cap, and speaking huskily from exertion; "there is
a large bark, sir, filled with men, stealing along shore in the American
channel, and I can see nothing of the gun boat that should be stationed
there. A shot was fired from the eastern battery, in the hope of
bringing her to, but, as the guns mounted there are only carronades, the
ball fell short, and the suspicious looking boat crept still closer to
the shore--I ordered a shot from my battery to be tried, but without
success, for, although within range, the boat hugs the land so closely
that it is impossible to distinguish her hull with the naked eye."

"The gun boat not to be seen, Mr. Raymond?" exclaimed the General; "how
is this, and who is the officer in command of her?"

"One," quickly rejoined the Commodore, to whom the last query was
addressed, "whom I had selected for that duty for the very vigilance and
desire for service attributed to him by my predecessor--of course I have
not been long enough here, to have much personal knowledge of him
myself."

"His name?" asked the General.

"Lieutenant Grantham."

"Grantham?" repeated the General, with a movement of surprise; "It is
indeed strange that _he_ should forego such an opportunity."

"Still more strange," remarked the commodore, "that the boat he commands
should have disappeared altogether. Can there be any question of his
fidelity? the Granthams are Canadians, I understand."

The general smiled, while the young officer who had been noticed so
particularly by Tecumseh on his landing, colored deeply.

"If," said the former, "the mere circumstance of their having received
existence amid these wilds can make them Canadians, they certainly are
Canadians; but if the blood of a proud race can make them Britons, such
they are. Be they which they may, however, I would stake my life on the
fidelity of the Granthams--still, the cause of this young officer's
absence must be inquired into, and no doubt it will be satisfactorily
explained. Meanwhile, let a second gunboat be detached in pursuit."

The commodore having given the necessary instructions to a young
midshipman, who attended him in the capacity of an aid-de-camp, and the
general having dismissed Lieutenant Raymond back to his post on the
island, these officers detached themselves from the crowd, and, while
awaiting the execution of the order, engaged in earnest conversation.

"By Jove, the commodore is quite right in his observation," remarked the
young and affected looking officer, who had been so profuse in his
witticisms on the corpulency of Lieutenant Raymond; "the general may say
what he will in their favor, but this is the result of entrusting so
important a command to a Canadian."

"What do you mean, sir?" hastily demanded one even younger than
himself--it was the youth already named, whose uniform attested him to
be a brother officer of the speaker. He had been absent for a few
minutes, and only now rejoined his companions, in time to hear the
remark which had just been uttered.

"What do you mean, Captain Molineux?" he continued, his dark eye
flashing indignation, and his downy cheek crimsoning with warmth. "Why
this remark before me, sir, and wherefore this reflection on the
Canadians?"

"Why really, Mr. Grantham," somewhat sententiously drawled the captain;
"I do not altogether understand your right to question in this tone--nor
am I accountable for any observations I may make. Let me tell you,
moreover, that it will neither be wise nor prudent in you, having been
received into a British regiment to become the Don Quixotte of your
countrymen."

"_Received_ into a British regiment, sir! do you then imagine that I,
more than yourself, should feel this a distinction," haughtily returned
the indignant youth. "But, gentlemen, your pardon," checking himself and
glancing at the rest of the group, who were silent witnesses of the
scene; "I confess I do feel the distinction of being admitted into so
gallant a corps--this in a way, however, that must be common to us all.
Again I ask, Captain Molineux," turning to that officer, "the tendency
of the observations you have publicly made in regard to my brother."

"Your question, Mr. Grantham might, with as much propriety, be addressed
to any other person in the full enjoyment of his senses, whom you see
here, since it is the general topic of conversation; but, as you seem to
require an answer from me particularly, you shall have it. My remark
referred to the absence of the officer in charge of the gun-boat from
the station allotted to him, at a moment when an _armed_ vessel of the
enemy is in sight. Is this the fact, or is it not?"

"By which remark," returned the other, "you would imply that said
officer is either guilty of gross neglect or--"

"I draw no inferences, Mr. Grantham, but even if I did, I should be more
borne out by circumstances than you imagine."

"It is plain you would insinuate that my brother shuns the enemy,
Captain Molineux--You shall answer to me for this insult, sir."

"As you please, Mr. Grantham, but on one condition only."

"Name it, sir, name it," said the young officer quickly.

"That it is satisfactorily proved your brother has _not_ shunned the
enemy."

Bitter feelings swelled the heart of the enthusiastic Grantham, as
unconsciously touching the hilt of his sword, he replied: "If your hope
of avoidance rest on this, sir, it will be found to hang upon a very
thread indeed."

The attention of the group where this unpleasant scene had occurred, and
indeed of all parties, was now diverted by the sudden appearance of the
American boat, as, shooting past the head of the island, which had
hitherto concealed her from the view of the assembled crowds, her spars
and white sails became visible in the far distance. A slight and
favorable breeze, blowing off the shore which she still closely hugged,
had now apparently sprung up, and, spreading all her canvass, she was
evidently making every effort to get beyond the reach of the battery
(whither Lieutenant Raymond had returned), under whose range she was
unavoidably impelled by the very wind that favored her advance. Owing to
some temporary difficulty, the gun-boat, just ordered by the commodore
to follow in pursuit, was longer than suited the emergency in getting
under way, and when she had succeeded in so doing, nearly half an hour
elapsed before, owing to the utter absence of wind, as well as the
rapidity of the current, she could be brought by the aid of her long and
cumbrous sweeps to clear the head of the island. The American, now
discovered to have a small detachment of troops on board, had by this
time succeeded in getting out of the range of a fire, which although
well directed had proved harmless, and, using every exertion of oar and
sail, bade fair, favored as she was by the breeze which reached not the
canvass of her enemy, to effect her escape.

Concern sat on every brow, and was variously expressed--loud yells
marking the fierce disappointment of the Indians, and undisguised
murmurs that of the more disciplined troops. Coupled with this feeling,
among the officers at least, naturally arose the recollection of him to
whose apparent neglect this escape of the enemy was to be attributed,
until at length the conduct of Lieutenant Grantham was canvassed
generally, and with a freedom little inferior to that which, falling
from the lips of Captain Molineux, had so pained his sensitive
brother--with this difference, however, that in this instance they were
the candidly expressed opinions of men arraigning the conduct of one of
their fellows apparently guilty of a gross dereliction from duty, and
not, as in the former they had seemed to be, with any ungenerous
allusion to his fidelity.

Warmly, and therefore audibly, commented on as was the unaccountable
absence of the officer, by individuals of almost every rank, it was
impossible that many of those observations could escape the attention of
the excited Henry Grantham. Mortified beyond measure at the fact, yet
unable, as he had done before, to stand forth the champion of his
brother's honor, where all (with a very few exceptions, among whom he
had the consolation to find the general) were united in opinion against
him, his situation was most painful. Not that he entertained the
remotest doubt of his brother bearing himself harmlessly through the
ordeal, but that his generous, yet haughty spirit could ill endure the
thought of any human being daring to cherish, much less to cast the
slightest aspersion on his blood.

Finding it vain to oppose himself to the torrent of openly expressed
opinion, the mortified youth withdrew to a distance, and, hastening
among the rude tumuli we have described, as being scattered about the
edge of the bank, stood watching, with folded arms and heaving chest,
the gradually receding bark of the enemy. Alternately, as he thus gazed,
his dark eye now flashed with the indignation of wounded pride, now
dilated with the exulting consciousness of coming triumph. The assurance
was strong within him, not only that his brother would soon make his
appearance before the assembled groups who had had the cruelty to impugn
his conduct, but that he would do so under circumstances calculated to
change their warm censure into even more vehement applause. Fully
impressed with the integrity of his absent relative, the impetuous and
generous hearted youth paused not to reflect that circumstances were
such as to justify the belief--or at least the doubt--that had been
expressed, even by the most impartial of those who had condemned him. It
seemed to him that others ought to have known and judged him as he
himself did, and he took a secret delight in dwelling on the
self-reproach which he conceived would attach to them, when it should be
found how erroneous had been the estimate formed of his character.

While he thus gazed, with eyes intently bent upon the river, and
manifesting even a deeper interest as the fleeing bark drew momentarily
nearer to one particular point in the distance, the young officer heard
footsteps approaching him. Hastily dashing away a tear which had been
called up by a variety of emotions, he turned and beheld the Chieftain
Tecumseh, and with him one who, in the full uniform of the British
Staff, united, in his tall and portly figure, the martial bearing of the
soldier to the more polished graces of the habitual courtier.

"Henry, my noble boy," exclaimed the latter, as he pressed the hand of
the youth, "you must not yield to these feelings. I have marked your
impatience at the observations caused by Gerald's strange absence, but I
have brought you one who is too partial to you both to join in the
condemnation. I have explained every thing to him, and he it was who,
remarking you to be alone, and suspecting the cause, first proposed
coming to rouse you from your reverie."

Affectionately answering the grasp of his noble looking uncle, Henry
Grantham turned at the same time his eloquent eye upon that of the
chieftain, and, in a few brief but expressive sentences, conveyed, in
the language of the warrior, the gratification he experienced in his
unchanged confidence in the absent officer.

As he concluded, with a warmth of manner that delighted him to whom he
addressed himself, their hands met for the third time that day. Tecumseh
at length replied, by pointing significantly to the canoes which still
lay floating on the river, unemptied of their warriors, stating at the
same time, that had not his confidence in his young friend been
unbounded, he would long since have despatched those canoes in pursuit;
but he was unwilling the officer should lose any of the credit that must
attach to the capture. "I know," he concluded, "where he is lying like
the red skin in pursuit of the enemy. Be patient, and we shall soon see
him."

Before Henry Grantham could find time to inquire if the place of ambush
was not the same to which his own hopes, induced by his perfect
knowledge of localities, had, throughout, pointed as the spot most
likely to conceal the hitherto invisible gun boat, his attention, and
that of his immediate companion, was drawn to a scene that carried a
glow of exultation to the bosoms of them all.

The American boat, long since out of range of the battery, and scudding
with a speed that mocked the useless exertions of those on board of the
second gun boat, who could with difficulty impel her through the
powerful eddy formed by the island, had been gradually edging from her
own shore into the centre of the stream. This movement, however, had the
effect of rendering her more distinguishable to the eye, breasting, as
she did, the rapid stream, as while hugging the land, even when much
nearer, she had been confounded with the dark line of brushwood which
connected the forest with the shore. She had now arrived opposite a neck
of land beyond which ran a narrow, deep creek, the existence of which
was known only to few, and here it chanced that in the exultation of
escape, they gave a cheer that was echoed back from either shore,
hoisting at the same moment the American colors. Scarcely, however, had
this cheer been uttered, when a second and more animating, was heard
from a different point, and presently, dashing into the river, and
apparently issuing from the very heart of the wood, was to be seen the
gun-boat, which had been the subject of so much conversation, every
stitch of her white canvass bellying from the masts, and her dark prow
buried in a wreath of foam created by her own speed. As she neared the
American a column of smoke, followed a second or two later by a dull
report, rose from her bows, enveloping her a moment from the view, and
when next visible she was rapidly gaining on the chase. The yells of the
Indians and the hurrahs of the soldiers gave an indescribable animation
to the scene.

This was indeed a moment of proud triumph to the heart of Henry
Grantham. He saw his brother not only freed from every ungenerous
imputation, but placed in a situation to win to himself the first
laurels that were to be plucked in the approaching strife. The
"Canadian," as he imagined he had been superciliously termed, would be
the first to reap for Britain's sons the fruits of a war in which those
latter were not only the most prominent actors, but also the most
interested. Already, in the enthusiasm of his imagination, he pictured
to himself the honor and promotion, which bestowed upon his gallant
brother, would be reflected upon himself, and, in the deep excitement of
his feelings, he could not avoid saying aloud, heedless of the presence
of his uncle:

"Now, Captain Molineux, your only difficulty is removed--my brother has
revenged himself. With me you will have an account to settle on my own
score."

"What do you mean, Henry?" seriously inquired Colonel D'Egville; "surely
you have not been imprudent enough to engage in a quarrel with one of
your brother officers."

Henry briefly recounted the conversation which had taken place between
Captain Molineux and himself.

"Far be it from my intention to check the nice sense of honor which
should be inherent in the breast of every soldier," returned his uncle
impressively, "but you are too sensitive. Henry; Captain Molineux, who
is, moreover, a very young man, may not have expressed himself in the
most guarded manner, but he only repeated what I have been compelled to
hear myself--and from persons not only older, but much higher in rank.
Take my advice, therefore, and let the matter rest where it is; Gerald,
you see, has given the most practical denial to any observations which
have been uttered of a nature derogatory to his honor."

"True," quickly returned the youth, with a flushing cheek, "Gerald is
sufficiently avenged, but you forget the taunt he uttered against
Canadians!"

"And if he did utter such taunt, why acknowledge it as such?" calmly
rejoined Colonel D'Egville; "are you ashamed of the name? I too am a
Canadian, but so far from endeavoring to repudiate my American birth, I
feel pride in having received my being in a land where everything
attests the sublimity and magnificence of nature. Look around you, my
nephew, and ask yourself what there is in the wild grandeur of these
scenes to disown. But, ha!"--as he cast his eyes upon the water--"I fear
Gerald will lose his prize after all; the enemy is giving him the Indian
double."

During the foregoing short conversation, an important change had been
effected in the position of the adverse boats. The shot fired,
apparently with the view of bringing the enemy to, had produced no
favorable result; but no sooner had the gun-boat come abreast of the
chase, than the latter, suddenly clewing up her sails, put her helm
about, and plying every oar with an exertion proportioned to the
emergency, made rapidly for the coast she had recently left. The
intention of the crew was evidently to abandon the unarmed boat, and to
seek safety in the woods. Urged by the rapidity of her own course, the
gun-boat had shot considerably ahead, and when at length she also was
put about, the breeze blew so immediately in her teeth that it was found
impossible to regain the advantage which had been lost. Meanwhile, the
American continued her flight, making directly for the land, with a
rapidity that promised fair to baffle every exertion on the part of her
pursuer. The moment was one of intense interest to the crowd of
spectators who lined the bank. At each instant it was expected the fire
of the gun-boat would open upon the fugitives; but although this was
obviously the course to be adopted, it being apparent a single shot was
sufficient to sink her--not a flash was visible--not a report was heard.
Presently, however, while the disappointment of the spectators from the
bank was rising into murmurs, a skiff filled with men was seen to pull
from the gun-boat in the direction taken by the chase, which was
speedily hidden from view by the point of land from which the latter had
previously been observed to issue. Behind this her pursuer also
disappeared, and after a lapse of a few minutes, pistol and musket shots
were distinguished, although they came but faintly on the ear. These
gradually became more frequent and less distinct, until suddenly there
was a profound pause--then three cheers were faintly heard--and all
again was still.




CHAPTER III.


A full half hour had succeeded to these sounds of conflict, and yet
nothing could be seen of the contending boats. Doubt and anxiety now
took the place of the confidence that had hitherto animated the bosoms
of the spectators, and even Henry Grantham--his heart throbbing
painfully with emotions induced by suspense--knew not what inference to
draw from the fact of his brother's protracted absence. Could it be that
the American, defended as she was by a small force of armed men, had
succeeded, not only in defeating the aim of her pursuer, but also in
capturing her. Such a result was not impossible. The enemy against whom
they had to contend yielded to none in bravery; and as the small bark
which had quitted the gun-boat was not one third of the size of that
which they pursued, it followed of necessity, that the assailants must
be infinitely weaker in numbers than the assailed. Still no signal of
alarm was made by the gun-boat, which continued to lie to, apparently in
expectation of the return of the detached portion of her crew. Grantham
knew enough of his brother's character to feel satisfied that he was in
the absent boat, and yet it was impossible to suppose that one so imbued
with the spirit of generous enterprise should have succumbed to his
enemy, after a contest of so short duration, as, from the number of
shots heard, this had appeared to be. That it was terminated, there
could be no doubt. The cheers, which had been followed by an universal
silence, had given evidence of this fact; yet why, in that case, if his
brother had been victorious, was he not already on his return?
Appearances, on the other hand, seemed to induce an impression of his
defeat. The obvious course of the enemy, if successful, was to abandon
their craft, cut off from escape by the gun-boat without, and to make
the best of their way through the woods, to their place of destination,
the American fort of Detroit--and, as neither party was visible, it was
to be feared this object had been accomplished.

The minds of all were more or less influenced by these doubts, but that
of Henry Grantham was especially disturbed. From the first appearance of
the gun-boat his spirits had resumed their usual tone, for he had looked
upon the fleeing bark as the certain prize of his brother, whose
conquest was to afford the flattest denial to the insinuation that had
been urged against him. Moreover, his youthful pride had exulted in the
reflection that the first halo of victory would play around the brow of
one for whom he could have made every personal sacrifice; and now, to
have those fair anticipations clouded at the very moment when he was
expecting their fullest accomplishment, was almost unendurable. He felt,
also, that, although his resolution was thus made to stand prominently
forth, the prudence of his brother would assuredly be called in
question, for having given chase with so inferior a force, when a single
gun fired into his enemy must have sunk her. In the impatience of his
feelings, the excited young soldier could not refrain from adding his
own censure of the imprudence, exclaiming, as he played his foot
nervously upon the ground: "Why the devil did he not fire and sink her,
instead of following in that nutshell?"

While he was yet giving utterance to his disappointment, a hasty
exclamation met his ear from the chieftain at his side, who, placing one
hand on the shoulder of the officer, with a familiar and meaning grasp,
pointed, with the fore-finger of the other, in the direction in which
the boats had disappeared. Before Grantham's eye could follow, an
exulting yell from the distant masses of Indians announced an advantage
that was soon made obvious to all. The small dark boat of the pursuing
party was now seen issuing from behind the point, and pulling slowly
towards the gun-boat. In the course of a minute or two afterwards
appeared the American, evidently following in the wake of the former,
and attached by a tow-line to her stern. The yell pealed forth by the
Indians when the second boat came in view, was deafening in the extreme;
and everything became commotion along the bank, while the little fleet
of canoes, which still lay resting on the beach, put off one after the
other to the scene of action.

Meanwhile, both objects had gained the side of the gun-boat, which,
favored by a partial shifting of the wind, now pursued her course down
the river with expanded sails. Attached to her stern, and following at
quarter cable distance, was to be seen her prize, from which the
prisoners had been removed.

Informed of the success which had crowned the enterprise of their
officer, the crews of the several vessels in the harbor swelled the
crowd assembled on the bank near the fort, to which point curiosity and
a feeling of interest had moreover brought many of the town's people, so
that the scene finally became one of great animation.

The gun-boat had now arrived opposite the fort, when the small bark,
which had recently been used in pursuit, was again drawn up to the
quarter. Into this, to the surprise of all, was first lowered a female,
hitherto unobserved; next followed an officer in the blue uniform of the
United States regular army; then another individual, whose garb
announced him as being of the militia, and whose rank as an officer was
only distinguishable from the cockade surmounting his round hat, and an
ornamented dagger thrust into a red morocco belt encircling his waist.
After these came the light and elegant form of one, habited in the
undress of a British naval officer, who, with one arm supported by a
black silk handkerchief, evidently taken from his throat, and suspended
from his neck, and with the other grasping the tiller of the rudder,
stood upright in the boat, which, urged by six stout rowers, now stood
at his command towards the landing place, above which lingered,
surrounded by several officers of either service, General Brock and
Commodore Barclay.

"Well, Commodore, what think you of your Lieutenant now?" observed the
former to his friend; "the young Canadian you must admit, has nobly
redeemed my pledge. On the score of his fidelity there could exist no
doubt, and as for his courage, you see," pointing to the young man's
arm, "his conquest has not been bloodless to himself, at least."

"With all my soul do I disclaim the wrong I have done him," was the
emphatic and generous rejoinder. "He is, indeed, a spirited youth; and
well worthy of the favorable report which led me to entrust him with the
command--moreover he has an easy grace of carriage which pleased and
interested me in his favor, when I first saw him. Even now, observe how
courteously he bends himself to the ear of his female prisoner, as if to
encourage her with words of assurance, that she may sustain the presence
and yells of these clamorous beings."

The boat had now reached the beach, but the difficulty of effecting a
passage, through the band of wild Indians that crowded, yelling, in
every direction, to take a nearer view of the prisoners, would, perhaps,
have proved insurmountable, had it not been for the interference of one
who alone possessed the secret of restraining their lawlessness.
Tecumseh had descended to the beach, eager to be the first to
congratulate his young friend. He pressed the hand promptly extended to
receive his, and then, at a single word, made those give way whose
presence impeded the landing of the party.

Pursuing their way up the rude steps by which Lieutenant Raymond had
previously descended, the little band of prisoners soon stood in the
presence of the group assembled to receive them. On alighting from the
boat, the youthful captor had been seen to make the tender of his
uninjured arm to the lady, who, however, had rejected it, with a
movement, seemingly of indignant surprise, clinging in the same moment
to her more elderly companion. A titter among the younger officers, at
Gerald Grantham's expense had followed this rejection of his proffered
arm.

The young sailor was the first to gain the summit of the bank.
Respectfully touching his hat, and pointing to the captives, who
followed a few paces in his rear:

"General--Commodore," he observed, his cheek flushing with a
consciousness of the gratifying position in which he stood, "I have the
honor to present to you the first fruits of your good fortune. This
gentleman," pointing to the elder officer, "is the commander of the
party, and the lady I believe is----"

"Certainly a non-combatant on this occasion," interrupted the General,
raising his plumed hat, and bowing to the party alluded to; "Gentlemen,"
he pursued, addressing the two officers, "I am sorry we do not meet
exactly on the terms to which we have so long been accustomed; but,
although the fortune of war has made you rather unwilling guests in the
present instance, the rites of hospitality shall not be the less
observed. But Mr. Grantham, you have forgotten to introduce these
officers by name."

"I plead guilty, General, but the truth is I have neglected to make the
inquiry myself."

"Major Montgomerie, sir, of the United States Infantry," interposed the
elderly officer, completely set at his ease by the affable and attentive
manner of the British leader. "This young lady is my niece."

Again the general slightly, but courteously, bowed. "I will not, Major
Montgomerie, pay you the ill timed compliment of expressing pleasure in
seeing you on an occasion like the present, since we must unquestionably
consider you a prisoner of war; but if the young lady your niece, has
any desire to continue her journey to Detroit, I shall feel pleasure in
forwarding her thither under a flag of truce."

"I thank you much, General, for this mark of your attention," returned
the American; "but I think I may venture to answer for my niece, that
she will prefer remaining with me."

"Not so, sir;" said a voice deep but femininely soft. "General," she
continued, throwing aside her veil, which had hitherto concealed
features pale even to wanness, "I have the strongest--the most urgent
reasons--for the prosecution of my journey, and gladly do I accept your
offer."

The earnest manner of her address struck every hearer with surprise,
contrasting as it did, with the unchanging coldness of her look; but the
matter was a source of serious concern to her uncle. He regarded her
with an air of astonishment, not unmixed with displeasure.

"How is this, Matilda," he asked; "after having travelled thus far into
the heart of this disturbed district would you now leave me?"

"Major Montgomerie," she pursued, somewhat impatiently, "we are in the
presence of strangers, to whom this discussion must be uninteresting--My
mind is fully made up, and I avail myself of the British General's
offer."

"Certainly, certainly," observed that officer, somewhat disconcerted by
the scene; "and I can do it the more readily, as it is my intention to
send an instant summons to the garrison of Detroit. Miss Montgomerie
will, however, do well to consider before she decides. If the summons be
not obeyed, another week will see our columns marching to the assault,
and she must be prepared for all the horrors of such an extremity,
aided, as I am compelled to be, (and he glanced at the groups of Indians
who were standing around, but at some distance, looking silently yet
eagerly at the prisoners,) by these wild and ungovernable warriors.
Should she, on the contrary, decide on remaining here with her uncle,
she will be perfectly safe."

"General," emphatically returned Miss Montgomerie, "were I certain that
the columns to which you allude would not be repulsed whenever they may
venture upon that assault, and were I as certain of perishing beneath
the tomahawk and scalping knife of these savages"--and she looked
fearlessly towards them--"still would my determination remain the same."

As she concluded, a hectic spot rose to either cheek, lingered there a
moment, and then left it colorless as before.

"Be it so, Miss Montgomerie, my word is pledged and you shall
go--Grantham, I had intended sending one of my personal staff with the
summons, but, on reflection, you shall be the bearer. As the captor of
the lady, to you shall be awarded the charge of delivering her over to
her friends."

"Friends!" involuntarily repeated the American, her cheek becoming even
paler than before, and her lips compressed in a way to indicate some
deep and painful emotion. Again she dropped her veil.

No other notice was taken of the interruption than what the surprised
manner of Major Montgomerie manifested, and the General proceeded;

"I would ask you, Major Montgomerie, to become my guest while you remain
with us, but I fear that, as a bachelor, I have but indifferent
accommodation to offer to your niece."

"If Miss Montgomerie will accept it," said Colonel D'Egville,
interposing, "I shall be most happy to afford her the accommodation of a
home until she finally departs for the opposite shore. If the attention
of a family of daughters," he continued, more immediately addressing
himself to the young lady, "can render your temporary sojourn among us
less tedious, you have but to command them."

So friendly an offer could not well be refused. Miss Montgomerie
inclined her head in acquiescence, and Colonel D'Egville drew her arm
within his own.

"It were unkind," remarked the general, good-humoredly, "to separate
Major Montgomerie altogether from his niece. Either the young lady must
partake of our rude fare, or we shall consider ourselves included in
your dinner party."

"You could not confer on me a greater pleasure, General, and indeed I
was about to solicit it. Commodore Barclay, may I hope that so short and
unceremonious an invitation will be excused by the circumstances? Good,
I shall expect you. But there is yet another to be included among our
guests. Gerald, you will not fail to conduct this gentleman, whose name
I have not yet had the pleasure of hearing"--and he looked at the
latter, as if he expected him to announce himself.

"I fear, sir," observed the young officer, pointedly, "that your dinner
party would be little honored by such an addition. Although he wears the
uniform of an American officer, this person is wholly unworthy of it and
of a seat at your table."

Every eye was turned with an expression of deep astonishment on the
speaker, and thence upon the form of the hitherto scarcely noticed
militia officer; who, with his head sunk sullenly upon his chest, and an
eye now and then raised stealthily to surrounding objects, made no
attempt to refute, or even to express surprise at, the singular
accusation of his captor.

"This is strong language to apply to a captive enemy, and that enemy
apparently an officer," gravely remarked the general; "yet I cannot
believe Mr. Grantham to be wholly without grounds for his assertion."

Before Grantham could reply, a voice in the crowd exclaimed, as if the
utterer had been thrown off his guard, "What--Phil!"

On the mention of this name, the younger prisoner looked suddenly up
from the earth on which his gaze had been riveted, and cast a rapid
glance around him.

"Nay, nay, my young friend, do not, as I see you are, feel hurt at my
observation," resumed the general, extending his hand to Gerald
Grantham; "I confess I did at one moment imagine that you had been rash
in your assertion, but from what has this instant occurred, it is
evident your prisoner is known to others as well as to yourself. No
doubt we shall have everything explained in due season. By the bye, of
what nature is your wound? slight, I should say, from the indifference
with which you treat it."

"Slight, General--far slighter," he continued, coloring, "than the wound
that was sought to be affixed to my fair name in my absence."

All looked at the speaker, and at each other with surprise, for, as yet,
there could have been no communication to him of the doubts which had
been entertained.

"Who is it of you all, gentlemen," pursued the young man, with the same
composedness of voice and manner, and turning particularly to the
officers of the forty-first regiment, who were grouped around their
chief, "Who is it, I ask, on whom has devolved the enviable duty of
reporting me as capable of violating my faith as a subject, and my honor
as an officer?"

There was no reply, although the same looks of surprise were
interchanged; but, as he continued to glance his eye around the circle,
it encountered, either by accident or design, that of Captain Molineux,
on whose rather confused countenance the gaze of Henry Grantham was at
that moment bent with an expression of much meaning.

"No one answers," continued the youth; "then the sting has been
harmless. But I crave your pardon, General--I am claiming an exemption
from censure which may not be conceded by all. Commodore, how shall I
dispose of my prisoners?"

"Not so, Mr. Grantham; you have sufficiently established your right to
repose, and I have already issued the necessary instructions. Yet, while
you have nobly acquitted yourself of _your_ duty, let me also perform
_mine_. Gentlemen," he continued, addressing the large circle of
officers, "I was the first to comment on Mr. Grantham's supposed neglect
of duty, and to cast a doubt on his fidelity. That I was wrong I admit,
but right I trust will be my reparation, and whatever momentary pain he
may experience in knowing that he has been thus unjustly judged, it
will, I am sure, be more than compensated for, when he hears that by
General Brock himself his defence was undertaken, even to the pledging
of his own honor. Mr. Grantham," concluded the gallant officer, "how you
have obtained your knowledge of the conversation that passed here during
your absence, is a mystery I will not now pause to inquire into, but I
would fain apologize for the wrong I have done. Have I your pardon?"

At the commencement of this address, the visible heaving of his full
chest, the curling of his proud lip, and the burning flush of his dark
cheek, betrayed the mortification Gerald felt, in having been placed in
a position to be judged thus unjustly; but, as the commodore proceeded,
this feeling gradually passed away, and when the warm defence of his
conduct by the general was alluded to, closed as the information was
with a request for pardon, his temporary annoyance was banished, and he
experienced only the generous triumph of one who is conscious of having
won his way, through calumny and slander, to the well merited
approbation of all right minded men.

"Come, come," interposed the general, more touched than he was willing
to appear, by the expressive manner in which the only hand of the
commodore now grasped that of his lieutenant, and perceiving that the
latter was about to reply--"We will defer all further explanation until
a later period. But, before we depart, this person must be disposed of;
Major Montgomerie, excuse my asking if you will be personally
responsible for your fellow prisoner?"

"Certainly not!" returned the Major quickly, and with something like
alarm at the required responsibility; "that is to say, he does not
belong to the United States regular service, and I know nothing of him.
Indeed, I never saw him before last night, when he joined me with a
verbal message from Detroit."

Hitherto the individual spoken of had preserved an unbroken silence,
keeping, as we have already shown, his gaze riveted upon the ground,
except at intervals, when he looked around with an eye of suspicion, as
if to measure the distance that separated him from the groups of Indians
in the background. The disclaimer of the major had, however, the effect
of restoring to him the use of his tongue. Casting his uncertain eye on
the gentlemanly person of the latter, he exclaimed, in a tone of
insufferable vulgarity:

"I'll tell you what it is, Mister Major--you may think yourself a
devilish fine feller, but I guess as how an officer of the Michigan
Militia is just as good and as spry as any blue coat in the United
States rig'lars; so there's that (snapping his fingers) for pretendin'
not to know me."

An ill-suppressed titter pervaded the group of British officers--the
general alone preserving his _serieux_.

"May I ask your name?" he demanded.

"I guess, gin'ril, it's Paul Emilius Theophilus Arnoldi, ensign in the
United States Michigan Militia," was answered with a volubility strongly
in contrast with the preceding silence of the speaker.

"Then, Mr. Arnoldi, as an officer in the American militia, you shall
enjoy your liberty on parole. I need not, I presume, sir, point out to
you the breach of private honor and national faith consequent on any
violation of that parole."

"I guess not, gin'ril, for, I take it, the word of a Michigan militia
officer is as good as that of any United States rig'lar as ever stepped
in shoe leather."

Another very pardonable disposition on the part of the younger officers
to indulge in mirth, was interrupted by the general, desiring a young
aide-de-camp to procure the necessary billet and accommodation for
Ensign Arnoldi.

These two individuals having moved away in search of the required
lodging, the general, with his staff and prisoner guests, withdrew
towards the fort. Their departure was the signal for the breaking up of
the groups, and all dispersed to their several homes, and in pursuit of
their various duties. The recently arrived Indians were distributed
throughout the encampment, already occupied as we have described, and
the prisoners taken in the morning were provided with suitable
accommodation.

As Colonel D'Egville was about to enter the gate of the fort, with his
fair charge leaning on his arm, Gerald Grantham approached the party,
with the intention of addressing the general in regard to the prisoner
Arnoldi; but finding him engaged in close conversation with Major
Montgomerie, he lingered, as if awaiting a fitting opportunity to open
the subject.

While he yet loitered, the eye of Miss Montgomerie met his. What it
expressed we will not venture to describe, but its effect upon the young
officer was profound. The moment before, discouraged by her apparent
reserve, he had stood coldly by, but now startled into animation, he
bent upon her an earnest and corresponding look; then, with a wild
tumult at his heart, which he neither sought to stifle nor to analyze,
and wholly forgetting what had brought him to the spot, he turned and
joined his brother, who, at a short distance, stood awaiting his return.




CHAPTER IV.


At the garrison mess-table that evening the occurrences of the day
naturally formed a chief topic of conversation; and a variety of
conjectures, more or less probable, regarding the American lady, were
hazarded by the officers to some of whom she had become an object of
curiosity, as she had to others of interest. This conversation,
necessarily _parenthèsed_ with much extraneous matter, in the nature of
rapid demands for solids and liquids, during the interesting period
devoted to the process of mastication, finally assumed a more regular
character when the cloth had been removed, and the attendants retired.

"Apropos," remarked Captain Granville, who filled the president's chair.
"We ought to have toasted your brother's gallant exploit, Henry;
gentlemen, fill your glasses--all full? Then I will give you the health
of Lieutenant Grantham, of the squadron."

The toast was responded to by all but Captain Molineux. His glass had
been filled and raised, but its contents remained untasted.

The omission was too marked not to be noticed by more than one of the
party; Henry Grantham, whose eye had been fixed on Captain Molineux at
the time, of course detected the slight. He sat for some minutes
conversing with an unusual and evidently forced animation; then,
excusing his early departure under the plea of an engagement with his
brother, rose and quitted the mess-room.

"What have you done with the ugly lout you took charge of, De Courcy?"
inquired Captain Cranstoun, interrupting the short and meaning pause
which had succeeded to Grantham's departure.

"Why, I calculate, captain," returned the lively aid-de-camp, imitating
the nasal drawl and language which had called up so much mirth, even in
presence of the general--"I calculate as how I have introduced Ensign
Paul, Emilius, Theophilus Arnoldi, of the United States Michigan
Militia, into pretty considerable snug quarters--I have billeted him at
the inn, in which he had scarcely set foot, when his first demand was
for a glass of 'gin sling,' wherewith to moisten his partick'lar damn'd
hot, baked clay."

"What a vulgar and uncouth animal," observed St. Clair, a Captain of
Engineers--"I am not at all surprised at Major Montgomerie's
disinclination to acknowledge him as a personal acquaintance."

"It is to be hoped," said De Courcy, "we shall not encounter many such
during the approaching struggle, for, since we have been driven into
this war, it will be a satisfaction to find ourselves opposed to an
enemy rather more chivalrous than this specimen seems to promise."

"Nay, nay, De Courcy," remarked Captain Granville, "you must not judge
of the American officers of the line by that standard; as, for example,
Major Montgomerie and the person just alluded to. Last winter," he
continued, "there was a continued interchange of hospitalities between
the two posts, and, had you been here to participate in them, you would
have admitted that among the officers of Detroit, there were many very
superior men indeed."

"Pleasant ball, that last they gave," said Lieutenant Villiers, with a
malicious laugh, and fixing his eyes on the Captain of Grenadiers.

"The devil take the ball," impatiently retorted Cranstoun, who did not
seem to relish the allusion; "don't talk about it now, man."

"What was it, Villiers? do pray tell us. Something good, I am sure from
Cranstoun's manner," eagerly asked the aid-de-camp, his curiosity
excited by the general titter that followed the remark.

"Shall I tell him, Cranstoun?" asked Villiers, in the same bantering
tone.

"Don't bother me," petulantly returned the other, as, thrusting his long
legs under the table and turning his back upon the questioner, he
joined, or affected to join, in a conversation that was passing, in a
low tone, at his end of the room.

"I must premise," began Villiers, addressing himself to the attentively
listening De Courcy, "that such is the mania for dancing in this country
scarcely any obstacle is sufficient to deter a Canadian lady,
particularly a French Canadian, from indulging in her favorite
amusement. It is, therefore, by no means unusual to see women drawn in
sleighs over drifting masses of ice, with chasms occasionally occurring
of from fifteen to twenty feet--and that at a moment when, driven by
wind and current, the huge fragments are impelled over each other with a
roar that can only be likened to continuous thunder, forming, in various
directions, hillocks from which the sun's rays are reflected in a
thousand fantastic shades and shapes. On these occasions the sleighs, or
carioles, are drawn, not as otherwise customary, by the fast-trotting
little horses of the country, but by expert natives whose mode of
transportation is as follows: A strong rope is fastened to the extremity
of the shafts, and into this the French Canadian, buried to the chin in
his blanket coat, and provided with a long pole terminating in an iron
hook, harnesses himself, by first drawing the loop of the cord over the
back of his neck, and then passing it under his arms. In this manner
does he traverse the floating ice, stepping from mass to mass with a
rapidity that affords no time for the detached fragment to sink under
the weight with which it is temporarily laden. As the iron-shod runners
obey the slightest impulsion, the draught is light; and the only fatigue
encountered is in the act of bringing the detached bodies together.
Wherever an opening intervenes, the Canadian throws forward his pole,
and, securing the pointed hook in some projection of the floating ice,
drags it towards that on the extreme verge of which he stands. In like
manner he passes on to the next, when the same operation remains to be
performed, until the passage is fully effected. Sometimes it happens
that a chasm of more than ordinary extent occurs, in which case the pole
is unavailable, and then his only alternative is to wait patiently until
some distant mass, moving in a direction to fill up the interstice,
arrives within his reach. In the meanwhile the ice on which he stands
sinks slowly and gradually, until sometimes it quite disappears beneath
the surface of the water."

"And the women, all this time?" demanded De Courcy, with something of
the nervousness which might be attributed to such a situation.

"Sit as quietly and as unconcernedly, wrapped in their furs, as if they
were merely taking their customary drive on terra firma," continued
Villiers; "nay, I am persuaded that if they ever entertain an anxiety on
those occasions, it is either lest the absence of one of these
formidable masses should compel them to abandon an enterprise, the bare
idea of entering upon which would give an European woman an attack of
nerves, or that the delayed aid should be a means of depriving them of
one half minute of their anticipated pleasure."

"Why," interrupted Middlemore, despite of a dozen ohs and ahs--"why, I
say, is Villiers like a man of domestic habits? Do you give it up?
Because he is fond of dwelling on his own premises."

"Middlemore, when will you renounce that vile habit of punning?" said De
Courcy, with an earnestness of adjuration that excited a general laugh
at his end of the table. "Come, Villiers, never mind his nonsense, for
your premises, although a little long, are not without deep
interest--but what has all this to do with our good friend above?"

"You shall hear. After a succession of balls last winter, to which the
ladies of either shore were invariably invited, the concluding one was
given by the officers in garrison at Detroit. This was at the very close
of the season, and it chanced that, on the preceding night, the river
had broken up, so that the roar and fracas of crashing ice might have
been likened, during forty-eight hours afterwards, to some terrible
disorganization of nature. Nothing daunted, however, by the
circumstance, many of the Canadian ladies made the usual preparations,
and among others the Miss D'Egvilles."

Here Villiers paused a moment, and with a significant "hem," sought to
arouse the attention of the grenadier; but Cranstoun, insensible to the
appeal, and perhaps unwilling to listen to a story that occasioned so
much mirth whenever it was repeated, continued with his back immovably
turned towards the speaker.

"All very well," pursued Villiers; "but we know the adage--'none so deaf
as those who will not hear.' I have said," again turning to De Courcy,
while those who were near listened not without interest to the story,
familiar even as it was to them all, "that the Miss D'Egvilles were of
the party. At that time our friend was doing the amiable to the lively
Julia, although we never could persuade him to confess his penchant;
and, on this occasion, he had attached himself to their immediate
sleigh. Provided, like the Canadians, with poles terminated by an iron
hook at one end and a spike at the other, we made our way after their
fashion, but in quicker time than they possibly could, harnessed as they
were in the sledges. With the aid of these poles, we cleared, with
facility, chasms of from ten to twelve feet, and alighting on our
moccasined feet, seldom incurred much risk of losing our hold. Our ball
dresses were taken in charge by the ladies, so that our chief care was
the safe passage of our own persons. We all arrived without accident,
and passed a delightful evening, the American officers exerting
themselves to give the _coup d'éclat_ to the last ball of the season."

"Yes," interrupted the incorrigible Middlemore, as he cracked a peccan
nut, "and the balls reserved for us this season will also carry with
them the _coup de grass_."

"The night," pursued Villiers, no one noticing the interruption save by
an impatient 'pish,' "gave every indication of a speedy break up. The
ice yet floated along in disjoined masses, but with even greater
rapidity than on the preceding day. Two alternatives remained--either to
attempt the crossing before further obstacle should be interposed, or to
remain in Detroit until the river had been so far cleared of the ice as
to admit of a passage in canoes. With our leaping poles, we were not so
much at a loss, but the fear entertained was principally for the safety
of the sleighs. Nothing dismayed, however, by the dangerous appearance
of the river, the ladies, after due deliberation, courageously resolved
on returning without delay, and we accordingly set out on our somewhat
hazardous expedition.

"Notwithstanding it was, as I have already remarked, the close of
winter, the cold was intense, and we were warmly clad. I do not know if
you have ever seen Cranstoun's huge bear skin coat, (an affirmative nod
was given by De Courcy), well: in this formidable covering had he
encased himself, so that when he quitted the town, surmounted as his
head was moreover with a fur cap, he presented more of the appearance of
a dancing bear than of a human creature. In this guise he attached
himself to the sleigh of the D'Egvilles, which, in crossing, happened to
be the furthest down the river, of the group."

"What a damn'd long time you are telling that stupid story, Villiers,"
at length noticed Cranstoun, wheeling round and regarding the narrator
with a look of ill assumed indifference, "I could have told it myself in
half the time."

"I am afraid you would not tell it so faithfully," replied Lieutenant
Villiers, amid the loud laugh which was now raised at Cranstoun's
expense. "You see it is so good a thing, I like to make the most of it."

Here Cranstoun again turned his back upon the party, and Villiers
pursued.

"The main body of the expedition had got nearly half way across the
river, when suddenly our ears were assailed by moanings, resembling
those of some wild beast, mingled with incessant and ungovernable
laughter. Checking our course, and turning to behold the cause, we
observed, about a hundred yards below us, the sledge of the D'Egvilles,
from which the almost convulsive laughter proceeded, and at a
considerable distance beyond this again, an object the true character of
which we were some time in discovering.

"It appeared, on subsequent explanation, that Cranstoun, who had been
whispering soft nothings in the ear of Julia D'Egville, (here the
captain was observed to prick his ear without materially altering his
position) hem! Cranstoun, I say, it appeared had also taken it into his
head to give her a specimen of his agility, by an attempt to clear a
space between two masses of ice of somewhat too great a breadth for a
heavy grenadier, buttoned up to the chin in a ponderous bear skin coat.
He succeeded in gaining the opposite piece of ice, but had no sooner
reached it, than he fell, entangled in such a manner in his covering
that he found it impossible to extricate himself. To add to his
disaster, the force of his fall broke off, from the main body, the
section of ice on which he rested. Borne down by the current, in spite
of his vain struggles to free himself, he was unable even to call for
aid, his fingers moreover being so benumbed with cold that he found it
impossible to unbutton the straps which confined his mouth. In this
emergency he could only utter the strange and unintelligible moan which
had reached our ears, and which, mingled with the bursts of laughter
from Julia D'Egville, formed a most incongruous melange.

"The best of the adventure remains, however, to be told. Numbers of the
peasantry from either shore, provided with poles, guns, and ropes, were
now to be seen rushing towards the half congealed Cranstoun, fully
imagining--nay exclaiming--that it was a wild bear, which, in an attempt
to cross the river, had had its retreat cut off, and was now, from
insensibility, rendered harmless. Disputes even arose in the distance as
to whom the prize should belong, each pursuer claiming to have seen it
first. Nay, more than one gun had been levelled with a view of
terminating all doubt by lodging a bullet in the carcase, when,
fortunately, for the subject in dispute, this proposal was overruled by
the majority, who were more anxious to capture than to slay the supposed
bear. Meanwhile the Canadian, harnessed to the sleigh of the D'Egvilles,
roared out with all his lungs for the two parties to hasten to the
assistance of the drowning British officer. In the confusion produced by
their own voices, however, they did not appear to hear or understand
him; yet all pursued the aim they had in view. Cranstoun's body was so
doubled up that it was impossible for any one, who had not witnessed the
accident, to imagine it anything in nature but a bear; and this
impression, the strange moaning he continued to make, tended to
confirm.

"The party of Canadians, favored by the nature of their floating
ice-bridges, were the first to come up to him. A desperate effort of his
cramped muscles had enabled Cranstoun to extend one of his legs, at the
moment when they were about to throw a noose round his neck, and this
was the first intimation the astonished peasantry had of their supposed
prize being a human being, instead of the fat bear they had expected.
Poor Cranstoun was of course liberated from his 'durance vile,' but so
chilled from long immersion, that he could not stand without assistance,
and it was not until one of their companions had approached with a
sleigh that he could be removed. He kept his bed three days, as much I
believe from vexation as illness, and has never worn his unlucky bear
skin since; neither has he forgiven Julia D'Egville the laugh she
enjoyed at his expense. Cranstoun," he concluded, "you may turn now, the
story is told."

But Cranstoun, apparently heedless of the laugh that followed this--as
indeed it did every--narration of the anecdote, was not to be shaken
from his equanimity. He continued silent and unmoved, as if he had not
heard a word of the conclusion.

"Poor Cranstoun," exclaimed the joyous De Courcy, in a strain of
provoking banter, "what an unfortunate leap that was of yours; and how
delighted you must have felt when you again stepped on terra firma."

"I don't wonder at his leap being unfortunate," observed Middlemore, all
eyes fixed upon him in expectation of what was to follow, "for Julia
D'Egville can affirm that, while paying his court to her, he had not
chosen a _leap year_."

While all were as usual abusing the far strained pun, a note was brought
in by the head waiter and handed to the punster. The officer read it
attentively, and then, with an air of seriousness which in him was
remarkable, tossed it across the table to Captain Molineux, who, since
the departure of Henry Grantham, had been sitting with his arms folded,
apparently buried in profound thought, and taking no part either in the
conversation or the laughter which accompanied it. A faint smile passed
over his features, as, after having read, he returned it, with an
assentient nod to Middlemore. Shortly afterwards, availing himself of
the opportunity afforded by the introduction of some fresh topic of
conversation, he quitted his seat, and whispering something in the ear
of Villiers, left the mess room. Soon after, the latter officer
disappeared from the table, and in a few moments his example was
followed by Middlemore.




CHAPTER V.


The dinner party at Colonel D'Egville's was composed in a manner to
inspire an exclusive with irrepressible horror. At the suggestion of
General Brock, Tecumseh had been invited, and, with him, three other
celebrated Indian chiefs, whom we beg to introduce to our readers under
their familiar names--Split-log--Round-head--and Walk-in-the-water--all
of the formidable nation of the Hurons. In his capacity of
superintendent of Indian affairs, Colonel D'Egville had been much in the
habit of entertaining the superior chiefs, who, with a tact peculiar to
men of their sedate and serious character, if they displayed few of the
graces of European polish, at least gave no manifestation of an innate
vulgarity. As it may not be uninteresting to the reader to have a slight
sketch of the warriors, we will attempt the portraiture.

The chief Split-log, who indeed should rather have been named Split-ear,
as we shall presently show, was afflicted with an aldermanic rotundity
of person, by no means common among his race, and was one, who from his
love of ease and naturally indolent disposition, seemed more fitted to
take his seat in the council than to lead his warriors to battle. Yet
was he not, in reality, the inactive character he appeared, and more
than once subsequently he was engaged in expeditions of a predatory
nature, carrying off the customary spoils. We cannot impart a better
idea of the head of the warrior than by stating, that we never recall
that of the gigantic Memnon, in the British Museum, without being
forcibly reminded of Split-log's. The Indian, however, was notorious for
a peculiarity which the Egyptian had not. So enormous a head, seeming to
require a corresponding portion of the several organs, nature had, in
her great bounty, provided him with a nose, which, if it equalled not
that of Smellfungus in length, might, in height and breadth, have
laughed it utterly to scorn. Neither was it a single, but a double
nose--two excrescences, equalling in bulk a moderate sized lemon, and of
the spongy nature of a mushroom, bulging out, and lending an expression
of owlish wisdom to his otherwise heavy features. As on that of the
Memnon, not a vestige of a hair was to be seen on the head of Split-log.
His lips were, moreover, of the same unsightly thickness, while the
elephantine ear had been slit in such a manner, that the pliant
cartilage, yielding to the weight of several ounces of lead which had
for years adorned it, now lay stretched, and coquetting with the brawny
shoulder on which it reposed. Such was the Huron, or Wyandot Chief,
whose cognomen of Split-log had, in all probability, been derived from
his facility in "suiting the action to the word;" for, in addition to
his gigantic nose, he possessed a fist, which in size and strength might
have disputed the palm with Maximilian himself; although his practice
had chiefly been confined to knocking down his drunken wives, instead of
oxen.

The second Chief, Round-head, who, by the way, was the principal in
reputation after Tecumseh, we find the more difficulty in describing
from the fact of his having had few or none of those peculiarities which
we have, happily for our powers of description, been enabled to seize
hold of in Split-log. His name we believe to have been derived from that
indispensable portion of his frame. His eye was quick, even penetrating,
and his stern brow denoted intelligence and decision of character. His
straight, coal-black hair, cut square over the forehead, fell long and
thickly over his face and shoulders. This, surmounted by a round
slouched hat, ornamented with an eagle's feather, which he ordinarily
wore and had not even now dispensed with, added to a blue capote or
hunting frock, produced a _tout ensemble_, which cannot be more happily
rendered than by a comparison with one of his puritanical sly-eyed
namesakes of the English Revolution.

Whether our third hero, Walk-in-the-water, derived his name from any
aquatic achievement which could possibly give a claim for its adoption,
we have no means of ascertaining; but certain it is, that in his
features he bore a striking resemblance to the portraits of Oliver
Cromwell. The same small, keen, searching eye, the same iron
inflexibility of feature, together with the long black hair escaping
from beneath the slouched hat, (for Walk-in-the-water, as well as
Round-head, was characterised by an unconscious imitation of the
Rounheads of the Revolution)--all contributed to render the resemblance
as perfect as perfection of resemblance can be obtained, where the
physical, and not the moral, man, forms the ground of contrast.

Far above these in nobleness of person, as well as in brilliancy of
intellect, was the graceful Tecumseh. Unlike his companions, whose dress
was exceedingly plain, he wore his jerkin or hunting coat of the most
beautifully soft and pliant deer-skin, on which were visible a variety
of tasteful devices, exquisitely embroidered with the stained quills of
the porcupine. A shirt of dazzling whiteness was carefully drawn over
his expansive chest, and in his equally white shawl-turban was placed an
ostrich feather, the prized gift of the lady of the mansion. On all
occasions of festivity, and latterly in the field, he was wont thus to
decorate himself; and never did the noble warrior appear to greater
advantage than when habited in this costume. The contrast it offered to
his swarthy cheek and mobile features, animated as they were by the
frequent flashing of his eagle eye, seldom failed to excite admiration
in the bosoms of all who saw him.

The half hour that elapsed between the arrival of the several guests and
the announcement of dinner, was passed under the influence of feelings
almost as various in kind as the party itself. Messieurs Split-rock,
Round-head, and Walk-in-the-water, fascinated by the eagles on the
buttons of Major Montgomerie's uniform, appeared to regard that officer
as if they saw no just cause or impediment why certain weapons dangling
at their sides should not be made to perform, and that without delay, an
incision into the cranium of their proprietor. True, there was a
difficulty. The veteran major was partially bald, and wanted the top
knot or scalping tuft, which to a true warrior was indispensable; not
that we mean to insinuate, that either of these chiefs would so far have
forgotten the position in which that gentleman stood, as to have been
tempted into any practical demonstration of hostility: but there was a
restlessness about the eye of each, that--much like the instinct of the
cat, which regards with natural avidity the bird that is suffered to go
at large within his reach, without daring openly to attack it--betrayed
the internal effort it cost them to lose sight of the enemy in the
prisoner and friend of the superintendent. The major, on the other hand,
although satisfied he was under the roof of hospitality, did not at
first appear altogether at his ease, but, while he conversed with the
English officers, turned ever and anon an eye of distrust on the
movements of his swarthy fellow guests. On the arrival of Tecumseh, who,
detained until a late hour by the arrangements he had been making for
the encampment and supplies of his new force, was the last to make his
appearance, the major's doubts passed entirely away. It was impossible
to be in the presence of this chieftain, and fail, even without any
other index to his soul than what the candor of his expression afforded,
to entertain all the security that man may repose on man. He had in him,
it is true, too much of the sincerity of nature, to make anything like a
friendly advance to one of a people on whom he charged all the
misfortunes of his race, and for whom he had avowed an inextinguishable
hostility of heart and purpose; but, unless when this might with strict
propriety be exercised, the spirit of his vengeance extended not; and
not only would he have scorned to harm a fallen foe, but his arm would
have been the first uplifted in his defence.

Notwithstanding the glance of intelligence which Captain Granville had
remarked, and which we have previously stated to have been directed by
Miss Montgomerie to her captor a few hours before, there was nothing in
her manner during dinner to convey the semblance of a prepossession.
True, that in the tumultuous glow of gratified vanity and dawning love,
Gerald Grantham had executed a toilet, into which, with a view to the
improvement of the advantage he imagined himself to have gained, all the
justifiable coquetry of personal embellishment had been thrown; but
neither the handsome blue uniform with its glittering epaulette, nor the
beautiful hair on which more than usual pains had been bestowed, nor the
sparkling of his dark eye, nor the expression of a cheek, rendered
doubly animated by excitement, nor the interestingly displayed arm _en
écharpe_--none of these attractions, we repeat, seemed to claim even a
partial notice from her they were intended to captivate. Cold,
colorless, passionless, Miss Montgomerie met him with the calmness of an
absolute stranger; and when, with the recollection of the indescribable
look she had bestowed upon him glowing at his heart, Gerald again sought
in her eyes some trace of the expression that had stirred every vein
into transport, he found there indifference the most complete. How great
his mortification was, we will not venture to describe, but the arch and
occasional raillery of his lively cousin, Julia D'Egville, seemed to
denote most plainly that the conqueror and the conquered had exchanged
positions.

Nor was this surprising; Miss Montgomerie's travelling habit had been
discarded for the more decorative ornaments of a dinner toilet, in
which, however, the most marked simplicity was observed. A plain white
muslin dress gave full development to a person which was of a perfection
that no dress could have disguised. It was the bust of a Venus, united
to a form, to create which would have taxed the imaginative powers of a
Praxiteles--a form so faultlessly moulded, that every movement presented
some new and unpremeditated grace. What added to the surpassing richness
of her beauty was her hair, which, black, glossy, and of eastern
luxuriance, and seemingly disdaining the girlishness of curls, reposed
in broad Grecian bands across a brow, the intellectual expression of
which they contributed to form. Yet never did woman exhibit in her
person and face more opposite extremes of beauty. If the one was
strikingly characteristic of warmth, the other was no less indicative of
coldness. Fair, even to paleness, were her cheek and forehead, which
wore an appearance of almost marble immobility, save when, in moments of
oft recurring abstraction, a slight but marked contraction of the brow
betrayed the existence of a feeling, indefinable indeed to the observer,
but certainly unallied to softness. Still she was beautiful--coldly,
classically, beautiful--eminently calculated to inspire passion, but
seemingly incapable of feeling it.

The coldness of Miss Montgomerie's manner was no less remarkable. Her
whole demeanor was one of abstraction. It seemed as if heedless, not
only of ceremony, but of courtesy, her thoughts and feelings were far
from the board of whose hospitality she was partaking. Indeed, the very
few remarks she made during dinner referred to the period of departure
of the boat, in which she was to be conveyed to Detroit, and on this
subject she displayed an earnestness, which, even Grantham thought,
might have been suppressed in the presence of his uncle's family.
Perhaps he felt piqued at her readiness to leave him.

Under these circumstances, the dinner was not, as might be expected,
particularly gay. There was an embarrassment among all, which even the
circulating wine did not wholly remove. Major Montgomerie was nearly as
silent as his niece. Mrs. D'Egville, although evincing all the kindness
of her really benevolent nature--a task in which she was assisted by her
amiable daughters--still felt that the reserve of her guest insensibly
produced a corresponding effect upon herself; while Colonel D'Egville,
gay, polished, and attentive, as he usually was, could not wholly
overcome an apprehension that the introduction of the Indian chiefs had
given offence to both uncle and niece. Still, it was impossible to have
acted otherwise. Independently of his strong personal attachment to
Tecumseh, considerations involving the safety of the province,
threatened as it was, strongly demanded that the leading chiefs should
be treated with the respect due to their station; and moreover, while
General Brock and Commodore Barclay were present, there could be no
ground for an impression that slight was intended. Both these officers
saw the difficulty under which their host labored, and sought by every
gentlemanly attention, to remove whatever unpleasantness might lurk in
the feelings of his American guests.

The dessert brought with it but little addition to the animation of the
party, and it was a relief to all, when, after a toast proposed by the
general to the "Ladies of America," Mrs. D'Egville made the usual signal
for withdrawing.

As soon as they had departed, followed a moment or two afterwards by
Tecumseh and Gerald Grantham, Messieurs Split-log, Round-head, and
Walk-in-the-water, deliberately taking their pipe-bowl tomahawks from
their belts, proceeded to fill them with kinni-kinnick, a mixture of
Virginia tobacco and odoriferous herbs, than which no perfume can be
more fragrant. Amid the clouds of smoke puffed from these at the lower
end of the table, where had been placed a supply of whiskey, their
favorite liquor--did Colonel D'Egville and his more civilized guests
quaff their claret; more gratified than annoyed by the savoury
atmosphere wreathing around them, while, taking advantage of the early
departure of the abstemious Tecumseh, they discussed the merits of that
chief, and the policy of employing the Indians as allies, as will be
seen in the following chapter.




CHAPTER VI.


"What a truly noble looking being!" observed Major Montgomerie, as he
followed with his eye the receding form of the athletic but graceful
Tecumseh. "Do you know, Colonel D'Egville, I could almost forgive your
nephew his success of this morning, in consideration of the pleasure he
has procured me in this meeting."

Colonel D'Egville looked the gratification he felt at the avowal. "I am
delighted, Major Montgomerie, to hear you say so. My only fear was that,
in making those chieftains my guests at the same moment with yourself
and niece, I might have unconsciously appeared to slight, where slight
was certainly not intended. You must be aware, however, of the rank held
by them among their respective nations, and of their consequent claim
upon the attention of one to whom the Indian interests have been
delegated."

"My dear sir," interrupted the Major, eager to disclaim, "I trust you
have not mistaken me so far, as to have imputed a reserve of speech and
manner during dinner, to which I cannot but plead guilty, to a
fastidiousness which, situated as I am, (and he bowed to the general and
commodore,) would have been wholly misplaced. My distraction, pardonable
perhaps under all the circumstances, was produced entirely by a
recurrence to certain inconveniences which I felt might arise to me from
my imprisonment. The captive bird," he pursued, while a smile for the
first time animated his very fine countenance, "will pine within its
cage, however gilded the wires which compose it. In every sense, my
experience of to-day only leads me to the expression of a hope, that all
whom the chances of war may throw into a similar position, may meet with
a similar reception."

"Since," observed the General, "your private affairs are of the
importance you express, Major Montgomerie, you shall depart with your
niece. Perhaps I am rather exceeding my powers in this respect, but,
however this may be, I shall take the responsibility on myself. You will
hold yourself pledged, of course, to take no part against us in the
forthcoming struggle, until you have been regularly exchanged for
whatever officer of your own rank, may happen to fall into the hands of
your countrymen. I shall dispatch an express to the Commander in-Chief,
to intimate this fact, requesting at the same time, that your name may
be put down in the first list for exchange."

Major Montgomerie warmly thanked the General for his kind offer, of
which he said he should be glad to avail himself, as he did not like the
idea of his niece proceeding without him to Detroit, where she was an
entire stranger. This, he admitted, determined as she had appeared to
be, was one of the unpleasant subjects of his reflection during dinner.

With a view of turning the conversation, and anxious moreover, to obtain
every information on the subject, the general now inquired in what
estimation Tecumseh was generally held in the United States.

"Among the more intelligent classes of our citizens, in the highest
possible," was the reply; "but by those who are not so capable of
judging, and who only see, in the indomitable courage and elevated
talents of the patriot hero, the stubborn inflexibility of the mere
savage, he is looked upon far less flatteringly. By all, however, is he
admitted to be formidable without parallel, in the history of Indian
warfare. His deeds are familiar to all, and his name is much such a
bugbear to American childhood, as Marlborough's was in France, and
Napoleon's is in England. It is a source of much regret to our
Government never to have been enabled to conciliate this extraordinary
man."

"What more feasible," remarked the General, but with a tone and manner
that could not possibly give offence; "had not the difficulty been of
its own creation? Treaty after treaty, you must admit, major, had been
made and violated under various pretexts, while the real motive--the
aggrandizement of territories already embracing a vast portion of their
early possessions--was carefully sought to be concealed from these
unfortunate people. How was it to be expected then that a man, whom the
necessities of his country had raised up to itself in the twofold
character of statesman and warrior--one gifted with a power of analyzing
motives which has never been surpassed in savage life--how, I ask, was
it to be expected that he, with all these injuries of aggression
staring him in the face, should have been won over by a show of
conciliation, which long experience, independently of his matured
judgment, must have assured him was only held forth to hoodwink, until
fitting opportunity should be found for again throwing off the mask."

"To the charge of violating treaties," returned Major Montgomerie, who
took the opposite argument in perfectly good part, "I fear, general, our
Government must to a certain extent plead guilty--much, however, remains
to be said in excuse. In the first place, it must be borne in mind that
the territory of the United States, unlike the kingdom of Europe, has no
fixed or settled boundary whereby to determine its own relative bearing.
True it is, that we have the Canadas on one portion of our frontier, but
this being a fixed line of demarcation, there can exist no question as
to a mutual knowledge of the territorial claims of both countries.
Unlike that of the old world, however our population is rapidly
progressing, and where are we to find an outlet for the surplus of that
population unless, unwilling as we are to come into collision with our
more civilized neighbors, we can push them forward into the interior. In
almost all the contracts entered into by our Government with the
Indians, large sums have been given for the lands ceded by the latter.
This was at once, of course, a tacit and mutual revocation of any
antecedent arrangements, and if instances have occurred wherein the
sacredness of treaty has been violated, it has only been where the
Indians have refused to part with their lands for the proffered
consideration, and when those lands have been absolutely indispensable
to our agricultural purposes. Then indeed has it been found necessary to
resort to force. That this principle of "might being the right," may be
condemned _in limine_ it is true, but how otherwise, with a
superabundant population, can we possibly act?"

"A superabundance of territory, I grant you, but surely not of
population," remarked the commodore; "were the citizens of the United
States condensed into the space allotted to Europeans, you might safely
dispense with half the Union at this moment."

"And what advantages should we then derive from the possession of nearly
a whole continent to ourselves?"

"Every advantage that may be reaped consistently with common justice.
What would be thought in Europe, if, for instance to illustrate a point,
and assuming these two countries to be in a state of profound peace,
Spain, on the principle of might, should push her surplus population
into Portugal, compelling the latter kingdom to retire back on herself,
and crowd her own subjects into the few provinces that might yet be left
to them."

"I cannot admit the justice of your remark, commodore," returned Major
Montgomerie, gradually warming into animation; "Both are civilized
powers, holding the same rank and filling nearly the same scale among
the nations of Europe. Moreover, there does not exist the same
difference in the natural man. The uneducated negro is, from infancy and
long custom, doomed to slavery, wherefore should the copper colored
Indian be more free? But my argument points not at their subjection. I
would merely show that, incapable of benefitting by the advantages of
the soil they inherit, they should learn to yield it with a good grace
to those who can. Their wants are few, and interminable woods yet remain
to them, in which their hunting pursuits may be indulged without a fear
of interruption."

"That it will be long," observed the General, "before, in so vast a
continent, they will be without a final resting place, I readily admit;
but the hardship consists in this--that they are driven from particular
positions to which their early associations lend a preference. What was
it that stirred into a flame, the fierce hostility of Tecumseh but the
determination evinced by your Government to wrest, from the hands of his
tribe, their last remaining favorite haunts on the Wabash?"

"This cannot be denied, but it was utterly impossible we could forego
the possession of countries bordering so immediately on our settlements.
Had we pushed our colonization further, leaving the tribes of the Wabash
in intermediate occupation, we ran the risk of having our settlers cut
off in detail, at the slightest assumed provocation. Nay, pretexts would
have been sought for the purpose, and the result of this would have been
the very war into which we were unavoidably led. The only difference
was, that, instead of taking up arms to avenge our slaughtered kinsmen,
we anticipated the period that must sooner or later have arrived, by
ridding ourselves of the presence of those from whose hostility we had
everything to apprehend."

"The expediency of these measures," said the General, "no one, Major,
can of course doubt; the only question at issue is their justice, and in
making this remark it must be obvious there is no particular allusion to
the United States, further than that country serves to illustrate a
general principle. I am merely arguing against the right of a strong
power to wrest from a weaker what may be essential to its own interest,
without reference to the comfort, or wishes, or convenience of the
latter."

"In such light assuredly do I take it," observed Major Montgomerie,
bowing his sense of the disclaimer. "But to prove to you, general, that
we are only following in the course pursued by every other people of the
world, let us, without going back to the days of barbarism, when the
several kingdoms of Europe were overrun by the strongest, and when your
own country in particular became in turn the prey of Saxons, Danes,
Normans, &c., merely glance our eyes upon those provinces which have
been subjugated by more civilized Europe. Look at South America, for
instance, and then say what we have done that has not been far exceeded
by the Spaniards, in that portion of the hemisphere--and yet, with this
vast difference in the balance, that there the European drove before him
and mercilessly destroyed an unoffending race, while we, on the
contrary, have had fierce hostility and treachery everywhere opposed to
our progress. The Spaniards, moreover, offered no equivalent for the
country subdued; now we have ever done so, and only where that
equivalent has been rejected, have we found ourselves compelled to
resort to force. Look again at the islands of the West Indies, the chief
of which are conquests by England. Where are the people to whom
Providence had originally assigned those countries, until the European,
in his thirst for aggrandizement, on that very principle of might which
you condemn, tore them violently away. Gone, extirpated, until scarce a
vestige of their existence remains, even as it must be, in the course of
time, with the Indians of these wilds--perhaps not in this century or
the next, but soon or late assuredly. These two people--the South
Americans and Caribs--I particularly instance, for the very reason that
they offer the most striking parallel with the immediate subject under
discussion. But shall I go further than this, gentlemen, and maintain
that we, the United States, are only following in the course originally
pointed out to us by England."

"I should be glad to hear your argument," said the Commodore, drawing
his chair closer to the table.

"And I," added the General, "consider the position too novel not to feel
interested in the manner in which it will be maintained."

"I will not exactly say," observed Colonel D'Egville, smiling one of his
blandest smiles, and few men understood the winning art better than
himself, "that Major Montgomerie has the happy talent of making the
worse appear the better cause; but certainly, I never remember to have
heard that cause more ably advocated."

"More subtly perhaps you would say, Colonel; but seriously, I speak from
conviction alone. It is true, as a citizen of the United States, and
therefore one interested in the fair fame of its public acts, that
conviction may partake in some degree of partial influences; still it is
sincere. But to my argument. What I would maintain is, as I have before
stated, that in all we have done we have only followed the example of
England. For instance, when the colonisation of the Eastern and Southern
states of the Union took place, that is to say, when our common
ancestors first settled in this country, how was their object effected?
Why, by driving from their possessions near the sea, in order to make
room for themselves, those very nations whom we are accused of a desire
to exterminate, as if out of a mere spirit of wantonness. Did either
English or Dutch then hesitate as to what course _they_ should pursue,
or suffer any qualms of conscience to interfere with their colonial
plans? No; as a measure of policy--as a means of security--they sought
to conciliate the Indians, but not the less determined were they to
attain their end. Who, then, among Englishmen, would have thought of
blaming their fellow countrymen, when the object in view was the
aggrandizement of the national power, and the furtherance of individual
interests? While the colonists continued tributary to England they could
do no wrong--they incurred no censure. Each succeeding year saw them,
with a spirit that was _then_ deemed worthy of commendation, pushing
their advantages and extending their possessions, to the utter exclusion
and at the expense of the original possessors of the soil. For this they
incurred no blame. But mark the change: no sooner had the war of the
revolution terminated in our emancipation from the leading strings of
childhood--no sooner had we taken rank among the acknowledged nations of
the world--no sooner had we, in a word, started into existence as an
original people--than the course we had undeviatingly pursued in
infancy, and from which we did not dream of swerving in manhood, became
a subject for unqualified censure. What had been considered laudable
enterprise in the English colonist, became unpardonable ambition in the
American republican; and acts affecting the national prosperity, that
carried with them the approbation of society and good government during
our nonage, were stigmatized as odious and grasping the moment we had
attained our majority."

"Most ably and eloquently argued, Major," interrupted the general, "and
I fear with rather more truth than we Englishmen are quite willing to
acknowledge: still it must be admitted, that what in the first instance
was a necessity, partook no longer of that character at a later period.
In order to colonize the country originally, it was necessary to select
such portions as were, by their proximity to the sea, indispensable to
the perfection of the plan. If the English colonists drove the Indians
into the interior, it was only for a period. They had still vast tracts
to traverse, which have since, figuratively speaking, been reduced to a
mere span: and their very sense of the difference of the motive--that is
to say, of the difference between him who merely seeks whereon to erect
his dwelling, and him who is anxious to usurp to himself the possession
of an almost illimitable territory--cannot be better expressed than by
the different degrees of enmity manifested against the two several
people. When did the fierceness of Indian hatred blaze forth against the
English colonists, who were limited in their views, as it has since
against the subjects of the United States, who, since the Revolution,
have more than tripled their territorial acquisitions?"

"Nay, general," replied the American, his lip partially curling with a
smile, indicating consciousness of triumphant argument; "I shall defeat
you on your own ground, and that by going back to a period anterior to
the revolution--to the very period you describe as being characterised
by less intense hostility to your own government."

"What, for instance, have we seen in modern times, to equal the famous
Indian league, which, under the direction of the celebrated Pontiac, a
chieftain only surpassed by Tecumseh, consigned so many of the European
posts to destruction, along this very line of district, about the middle
of the last century. It has been held up as a reproach to us, that we
have principally subjected ourselves to the rancorous enmity of the
Indians, in consequence of having wrested from them their favorite and
beautiful hunting grounds, (Kentucky in particular,) to which their
early associations had linked them. But to this I answer, that in
Pontiac's time this country was still their own, as well as Ohio,
Louisiana, Indiana, &c., and yet the war of fierce extermination was not
the less waged towards the English; not because these latter had
appropriated their principal haunts, but because they had driven them
from their original possessions near the sea. The hatred of the Indians
has ever been the same towards those who first secured a footing on
their continent, and, although we are a distinct people in the eyes of
the civilized world, still we are the same in those of the natives, who
see in us, not the emancipated American, but merely the descendant of
the original colonist. That their hostility has progressed in proportion
with our extension of territory, I cannot altogether admit, for although
our infant settlements have in a great degree suffered from occasional
irruptions of the savages, when men, women and children, have alike been
devoted to the murderous tomahawk, in no way have our fortresses been
systematically assailed, as during the time of Pontiac."

"For this," interrupted the general, "there are two obvious reasons. In
the first instance, your fortresses are less isolated than ours were at
that period, and secondly, no such intelligent being as the chieftain
you have named, had started up among the Indian nations until now. What
Tecumseh may not effect in course of time, should he not perish in the
struggle for his country's liberty, ought to be a matter of serious
consideration with your Government."

"Of his great talents and dauntless determination they are fully aware,"
replied the major; "but as I have already said, nothing short, not
merely of giving up all claim to future advantages, but of restoring the
country wrested from him on the Wabash, can ever win him from his
hostility; and this is a sacrifice the Government will never consent to
make."

At this point of the argument, Messieurs Split-log, Round-head, and
Walk-in-the-water, having finished their kinni-kinnick, and imbibed a
due quantum of whiskey; possibly, moreover, not much entertained by the
conversation that was carried on in a language neither of them
understood but imperfectly, rose to take their leave. They successively
shook hands with the British leaders, then advancing towards Major
Montgomerie, with a guttural "Ugh," so accentuated as to express good
will and satisfaction, tendered their dark palms to that officer also,
muttering as they did something about "good Chemocomon." They then with
becoming dignity withdrew, followed by Colonel D'Egville, who had risen
to conduct them to the door.

The conversation, thus temporarily interrupted, was resumed on that
officer's return.

"Admitting the truth of your position, Major Montgomerie," remarked the
Commodore, "that the Government of the United States is justified, both
by expediency and example, in the course it has pursued, it will not at
least be denied, that Tecumseh is, on the very same principle, borne out
in the hatred and spirit of hostility evinced by him towards the
oppressors of his country."

"Granted," returned the Major, "but this point has no reference to my
argument, which tends to maintain, that in all we have done, we have
been justified by necessity and example."

"The fact is, however, that this position of things is one unavoidably
growing out of the clashing of adverse interests--the Indians being
anxious to check, we to extend, our dominion and power as a people; and
the causes existing now were in being nearly a century ago, and will, in
all probability continue, until all vestige of Indian existence shall
have passed utterly away. When the French were in the occupancy of the
Canadas, having nothing to gain from them, they cultivated the alliance
and friendship of the several nations, and by fostering their fierce
hostility against the English colonists, rendered them subservient to
their views. To-day the English stand precisely where the French did.
Having little to expect from the Indians but assistance in a case of
need, they behold, and have for years beheld, with anything but
indifference, the struggle continued by the United States which was
commenced by themselves. I hope I shall not be understood as expressing
my own opinion, when I add, that in the United States, the same covert
influence is attributed to the commanders of the British fortresses that
was imputed to the French. Indeed it is a general belief, among the
lower classes particularly, that, in all the wars undertaken against the
American out-posts and settlements, the Indians have been instigated to
the outrage by liberal distributions of money and presents from the
British Government."

"It will hardly be necessary to deny the justice of such an imputation
to Major Montgomerie," remarked the General, with a smile, "especially
after having disavowed the opinion as his own. The charge is too absurd
for serious contradiction--yet we are not altogether ignorant that such
an impression has gone abroad."

"Few of the more enlightened of our citizens give into the belief," said
the Major; "still it will give me especial pleasure to have it in my
power to contradict the assertion from the lips of General Brock
himself."

"That we have entered into a treaty of alliance with the Indians,"
observed Colonel D'Egville, "is most certainly true; but it is an
alliance wholly defensive. I must further observe, that in whatever
light the policy of the Government of the United States in its relations
with the Indians, may be privately viewed, we are, under all
circumstances, the last people in the world who should condemn it as
injurious to our public interests, since it has been productive of
results affecting the very existence of these provinces. Had the
American Government studied conciliation rather than extension of
territory, it is difficult to say to what side the great body of the
Indians would, in the impending struggle, have leaned. The possibility
of some such event as the present had not only been foreseen, but
anticipated. It has long been obvious to us that the spirit of
acquisition manifested by the United States, would not confine itself to
its customary channels; but on the contrary, that, not contented with
the appropriation of the hunting grounds of the Indians, it would
finally extend its views to Canada. Such a crisis has long been provided
against. Presents, to a large amount, have certainly been distributed
among the Indians, and not only this, but every courtesy, consistent at
once with our dignity and our interest, has been shown to them. You have
seen, for instance," continued he with a smile, "my three friends who
have just left the room; they are not exactly the happiest specimens of
Indian grace, but they have great weight in the council, and are the
leading men in the alliance to which you alluded, although not wholly
for the same purpose. In the wars of Pontiac--and these are still fresh
in the recollection of certain members of my own family--the English
commanders, with one or two exceptions, brought those disasters upon
themselves. Forgetting that the Indians were a proud people, whom to
neglect was to stir into hatred, they treated them with indifference, if
not with contempt; and dearly did they pay the penalty of their fault.
As we all know, they, with only one exception, were destroyed. In their
fall expired the hostility they themselves had provoked, and time had
wholly obliterated the sense of injustice from the minds of the several
nations. Were we then, with these fearful examples yet fresh in our
recollection, to fall into a similar error? No: a course of conciliation
was adopted, and has been pursued for years; and now do we reap the
fruit of what, after all, is but an act of justifiable policy. In my
capacity of Superintendent of Indian affairs, Major Montgomerie, even
more than as a Canadian brought up among them, I have had opportunities
of studying the characters of the heads of the several nations. The most
bitter enmity animates the bosoms of all against the Government and
people of the United States, from whom, according to their own showing,
they have to record injury upon injury; whereas from us they have
received but benefits. I repeat, this is at once politic and just. What
could Canada have hoped to accomplish in the approaching struggle, had
the conduct of the American Government been such as to have neutralized
the interest we had excited in and for ourselves? She must have
succumbed; and my firm impression is, that at whatever epoch of her
existence, the United States may extend the hand of conquest over these
colonies, with the Indian tribes that are now leagued with us crowding
to her own standard, not all the armies that England may choose to send
to their defence will be able to prevent it."

"Filling the situation you now occupy, Colonel, there can be no doubt
you are in every way enabled to arrive at a full knowledge of Indian
feelings and Indian interests; and we have but too much reason to fear,
that the strong hatred to the United States you describe as existing on
the part of their several leaders, has had a tendency to unite them more
cordially to the British cause. But your course of observation suggests
another question. Why is it that, with the knowledge possessed by the
British Government of the cruel nature of Indian warfare, it can consent
to enlist them as allies? To prevent their taking up arms against the
Canadas may be well, but in my opinion, (and it is one generally
entertained through the United States,) the influence of the British
authorities should have been confined to neutralizing their services."

"Nay, Major Montgomerie," observed the General, "it would indeed be
exacting too much to require that we should offer ourselves unresisting
victims to your Government; and what but self-immolation would it be to
abstain from the only means by which we can hope to save these
threatened Provinces? Colonel D'Egville has just said that, with the
Indians opposed to us, Canada would fall. I go farther, and aver that,
without the aid of the Indians, circumstanced as England now is, Canada
must be lost to us. It is a painful alternative, I admit, for that a
war, which is not carried on with the conventional courtesies of
civilized belligerent nations, is little suited to our taste, you will
do us the justice to believe; but by whom have we been forced into the
dilemma? Had we been guilty of rousing the Indian spirit against you,
with a view to selfish advantage; or had we in any way connived at the
destruction of your settlements, from either dread or jealousy of your
too close proximity, then should we have deserved all the odium of such
conduct. But this we unequivocally deny.

"I would ask you, on the other hand, if you are aware of the great
exertions made by your Government, to induce them to take an active part
in this very war. If not, I can acquaint you that several of the chiefs,
now here, have been strongly urged to declare against us; and, not very
long since, an important council was held among the several tribes,
wherein some few, who had been won over by large bribes, discussed the
propriety of deserting the British cause, in consideration of advantages
which were promised them by the United States. These of course were
overruled by the majority, who expressed the utmost indignation at the
proposal; but the attempt to secure their active services was not the
less made. We certainly have every reason to congratulate ourselves on
its failure."

"This certainly partakes of the _argumentum ad hominem_," said the
Major, good humoredly; "I do confess, I am aware that, since the idea of
war against England was first entertained, great efforts have been made
to attach the Indians to our interests; and in all probability, had any
other man than Tecumseh presided over their destinies, our Government
would have been successful. I however, for one, am no advocate for their
employment on either side; for it must be admitted they are a terrible
and a cruel enemy, sparing neither age nor sex."

"Again, Major," returned the General, "do we shield ourselves under our
former plea--that, as an assailed party, we have a right to avail
ourselves of whatever means of defence are within our reach. One of two
things--either we must retain the Indians, who are bound to us in one
common interest, or we must, by discarding them, quietly surrender the
Canadas to your armies. Few will be Quixotic enough to hesitate as to
which of the alternatives we should adopt."

"And if we should be accused of neglecting the means of preventing
unnecessary cruelty," observed Colonel D'Egville, "the people of the
United States will do us infinite wrong. This very circumstance has been
foreseen and provided against. Without the power to prevent the Indians
from entering upon these expeditions, we have at least done all that
experience and a thorough knowledge of their character admits, to
restrain their vengeance, by the promise of head money. It has been made
generally known to them that every prisoner that is brought in and
delivered up shall entitle the captor to a certain sum. This promise, I
have no doubt, will have the effect, not only of saving the lives of
those who are attacked in their settlements, but also of checking any
disposition to unnecessary outrage in the hour of conflict."

"The idea is one certainly reflecting credit on the humanity of the
British authorities," returned Major Montgomerie; "but I confess I doubt
its efficacy. We all know the nature of an Indian too well to hope that
in the career of his vengeance, or the full flush of victory, he will
waive his war trophy in consideration of a few dollars. The scalp he may
bring, but seldom a living head with it."

"It is, I fear, the horrid estimation in which the scalp is held, that
too frequently whets the blades of these people," observed the
Commodore. "Were it not considered a trophy, more lives would be spared;
but an Indian, from all I can understand, takes greater pride in
exhibiting the scalp of a slain enemy, than a knight of ancient times
did in displaying in his helmet the glove that had been bestowed on him
as a mark of favor by his lady-love."

"After all," said the General, "necessary as it is to discourage it by
every possible mark of disapprobation, I do not see, in the mere act of
scalping, half the horrors usually attached to the practice. The motive
must be considered. It is not the mere desire to inflict wanton torture
that influences the warrior but an anxiety to possess himself of that
which gives undisputed evidence of his courage and success in war. The
prejudice of Europeans is strong against the custom, however, and we
look upon it in a light very different, I am sure from that in which it
is viewed by the Indians themselves. The burnings of prisoners, which
were practised many years ago, no longer continue; and the infliction of
the torture has passed away, so that, after all, Indian cruelty does not
exceed that which is practised even at this day in Europe, and by a
nation bearing high rank among the Catholic powers of Europe. I have
numerous letters, recently received from officers of my acquaintance now
serving in Spain, all of which agree in stating that the mutilations
perpetrated by the Guerilla bands, on the bodies of such of the
unfortunate French detachments as they succeeded in overpowering, far
exceeded anything imputed to the Indians of America; and, as several of
these letters are from individuals who joined the Peninsular Army from
this country, in which they had passed many years, the statement may be
relied on as coming from men who have had more than hearsay knowledge of
both parties."

Here a tall, fine-looking black, wearing the livery of Colonel
D'Egville, entering to announce that coffee was waiting for them in an
adjoining room--the party rose and retired to the ladies.




CHAPTER VII.


Many of our readers will doubtless bear in mind the spot called
Elliott's Point, at the western extremity of Lake Erie, to which we have
already introduced them. At a considerable distance beyond that again
(its intermediate shores washed by the silver waves of the Erie)
stretches a second, called also, from the name of its proprietor,
Hartley's Point. Between these two necks are three or four farms; one of
which, and adjoining Hartley's, was, at the period of which we treat,
occupied by an individual of whom, unfortunately for the interests of
Canada, too many of the species had been suffered to take root within
her soil.

This person had his residence near Hartley's Point. Unlike those however
whose dwellings rose at a distance, few and far between, hemmed in by
the fruits of prosperous agriculture, he appeared to have paid but
little attention to the cultivation of a soil, which in every part was
of exceeding fertility. A rude log hut, situated in a clearing of the
forest, the imperfect work of lazy labor, was his only habitation, and
here he had for years resided without its being known how he contrived
to procure the necessary means of subsistence; yet, in defiance of the
apparent absence of all resources, it was subject of general remark,
that he not only never wanted money, but had been enabled to bestow
something like an education on a son, who had, at the epoch opened by
our narrative, been absent from him upwards of five years. From his
frequent voyages, and the direction his canoe was seen to take, it was
inferred by his immediate neighbors, that he dealt in contraband,
procuring various articles on the American coast, which he subsequently
disposed of in the small town of Amherstburg (one of the principal
English posts) among certain subjects domiciliated there, who were
suspected of no very scrupulous desire to benefit the revenue of the
country. So well and so wisely however, did he cover his operations,
that he had always contrived to elude detection--and, although suspicion
attached to his conduct, in no instance had he openly committed himself.
The man himself, tall, stout, and of a forbidding look, was of a
fearless and resolute character, and if he resorted to cunning, it was
because cunning alone could serve his purposes in a country, the laws of
which were not openly to be defied.

For a series of years after his arrival, he had contrived to evade
taking the customary oaths of allegiance; but this, eventually awakening
the suspicions of the magistracy, brought him more immediately under
their surveillance, when year after year, he was compelled to a renewal
of the oath, for the imposition of which, it was thought, he owed more
than one of those magistrates a grudge. On the breaking out of the war,
he still remained in undisturbed possession of his rude dwelling,
watched as well as circumstances would permit, it is true, but not so
narrowly as to be traced in his various nocturnal excursions by water.
Nothing could be conceived more uncouth in manner and appearance than
this man--nothing more villanous than the expression of his eye. No one
knew from what particular point of the United States he had come, and
whether Yankee or Kentuckian, it would have puzzled one of that race of
beings, so proverbial fer acumen--a Philadelphia lawyer--to have
determined.

The day following that of the capture of the American detachment was
just beginning to dawn, as two individuals appeared on the skirt of the
rude clearing in which the hut of the man we have just described, had
been erected. The persons of both these, wrapped in blue military
cloaks, reposed upon the dark foliage in a manner to enable them to
observe, without being themselves seen, all that passed within the
clearing, from the log hut to the sand of the lake shore. There had been
an indication by one of these of a design to step forth from his
concealment into the clearing, and advance boldly towards the house; but
this had been checked by his companion, who, laying his hand upon his
shoulder, arrested the movement, pointing out at the same time, the
leisurely but cautious advance of two men from the hut towards the
shore, on which lay a canoe half drawn up on the sands. Each, on issuing
from the hut, had deposited a rifle against the rude exterior of the
dwelling, the better to enable them to convey a light mast, sail,
paddles, several blankets and a common corn-bag, apparently containing
provisions, with which they proceeded towards the canoe.

"So," said the taller of the first party, in a whisper, "there is that
d----d rascal Desborough setting out on one of his contraband
excursions. He seems to have a long absence in view, if we may judge
from the contents of his provision sack."

"Hist," rejoined his companion, "there is more here than meets the eye.
In the first instance, remove the pistols from the case, and be prepared
to afford me assistance, should I require it."

"What the devil are you going to do?" asked the first speaker, following
however the hint that had been given him, and removing a pair of
duelling pistols from their mahogany case.

While he was in the act of doing this, his companion had, without
replying, quitted his side, and cautiously and noiselessly advanced to
the hut. In the course of a few minutes he again appeared at the point
whence he had started, grasping in either hand the rifles so recently
deposited there.

"Well, what is the meaning of this feat? you do not intend, Yankee
fashion, to exchange a long shot with poor Molineux, I hope--if so, my
dear fellow, I cry off, for upon my honor, I cannot engage in anything
that is not strictly orthodox."

He, thus addressed, could scarcely restrain a laugh at the serious tone
in which his companion expressed himself, as if he verily believed he
had that object in view.

"Would you not like," he asked, "to be in some degree instrumental in
banishing wholly from the country a man whom we all suspect of treason,
but are compelled to tolerate from inability to prove his guilt--this
same notorious Desborough?"

"Now that you no longer speak and act in parables, I can understand you.
Of course I should, but what proof of his treason are we to discover in
the mere fact of his departing on what he may choose to call a hunting
excursion? even admitting he is speculating in the contraband, _that_
cannot banish him; and if it could, we would never descend to become
informers."

"Nothing of the kind is required of us--his treason will soon unfold
itself, and that in a manner to demand, as an imperative duty, that we
secure the traitor. For this have I removed the rifles which may, in a
moment of desperation, be turned at backwoodsman's odds against our
pistols. Let us steal gently towards the beach, and then you shall
satisfy yourself; but I had nearly forgotten--suppose the other party
should arrive?"

"Then they must in their turn wait for us. They have already exceeded
their time ten minutes."

"Look," exclaimed his companion, as he slightly grasped the shoulder on
which his hand had rested, "he is returning for the rifles."

Only one of the two men now retrod his steps from the beach towards the
hut, but with a more hurried action than before. As he passed where the
friends still lingered, he gave a start of surprise, apparently produced
by the absence of the rifles. A moment's reflection seeming to satisfy
him it was possible his memory had failed him, and that they had been
left within the building, he hurried forward to assure himself. After a
few moments of apparently ineffectual search, he again made his
appearance, making the circuit of the hut to discover his lost weapons,
but in vain; when in the fierceness of his anger, he cried aloud, with a
bitterness that gave earnest of sincerity.

"By ----. I wish I had the curst British rascal who played me this
trick, on t'other shore--if I wouldn't tuck my knife into his b----y
gizzard, then is my name not Jeremiah Desborough. What the h--ll's to be
done now?"

Taking advantage of his entrance into the hut, the two individuals,
first described, had stolen cautiously under cover of the forest, until
they arrived at its termination, within about twenty yards of the shore,
where however there was no outward or visible sign of the individual who
had been Desborough's companion. In the bows of the canoe were piled the
blankets, and in the centre was deposited the provision bag that had
formed a portion of their mutual load. The mast had not been hoisted,
but lay extended along the hull, its sail loosened and partially
covering the before-mentioned article of freightage. The bow half of the
canoe pressed the beach, the other lay sunk in the water, apparently in
the manner in which it had first approached the land.

Still uttering curses, but in a more subdued tone, against "the feller
who had stolen his small bores," the angry Desborough retraced his steps
to the canoe. More than once he looked back to see if he could discover
any traces of the purloiner, until at length his countenance seemed to
assume an expression of deeper cause for concern, than even the loss of
his weapons.

"Ha, I expect some d----d spy has been on the look out--if so, I must
cut and run I calculate purty soon."

This apprehension was expressed as he arrived opposite the point where
the forest terminated. A slight rustling among the underwood reduced
that apprehension to certainty. He grasped the handle of his huge knife
that was thrust into the girdle around his loins, and riveting his gaze
on the point whence the sound had proceeded, retreated in that attitude.
Another and more distinct crush of underwood, and he stood still with
surprise, on finding himself face to face, with two officers of the
garrison.

"We have alarmed you, Desborough," said the younger, as they both
advanced leisurely to the beach. "Do you apprehend danger from our
presence?"

A keen searching glance flashed from the ferocious eye of the ruffian.
It was but momentary. Quitting his firm grasp of the knife, he suffered
his limbs to relax their tension, and aiming at carelessness, observed
with a smile, that was tenfold more hideous from its being forced:

"Well now, I guess, who would have expected to see two officers so fur
away from the fort at this early hour of the mornin'?"

"Ah," said the taller of the two, availing himself of the first opening
to a pun which had been afforded, "we are merely out on a _shooting_
excursion."

Desborough gazed doubtingly on the speaker. "Strange sort of a dress
that for shootin' I guess--them cloaks must be a great tanglement in the
bushes."

"They serve to keep our _arms_ warm," continued Middlemore, perpetrating
another of his execrables.

"To keep your arms warm! well sure-_ly_, if that arn't droll. It may be
some use to keep the primins dry, I reckon; but I can't see the use of
keepin' the fowlin' pieces warm. Have you met with any game yet,
officers? I expect as how I can point you out a purty spry place for
pattridges and sich like."

"Thank you, my good fellow; but we have appointed to meet our _game_
here."

The dry manner in which this was observed had a visible effect on the
settler. He glanced an eye of suspicion around, to see if other than the
two officers were in view, and it was not without effort that he assumed
an air of unconcern, as he replied:

"Well, I expect I have been many a long year a hunter, as well as other
things, and yet, dang me if I ever calculated the game would come to me.
It always costs me a purty good chase in the woods."

"How the fellow _beats_ about the _bush_ to find what _game_ we are
driving at," observed Middlemore, in an under tone, to his companion.

"Let him alone for that," returned he whom our readers have doubtless
recognised for Henry Grantham. "I will match his punning against your
cunning any day."

"The truth is, he is _fishing_ to discover our motive for being here,
and to find out if we are in any way connected with the disappearance of
his rifles."

During this conversation _apart_, the Yankee had carelessly approached
his canoe, and was affecting to make some alteration in the disposition
of the sail. The officers, the younger especially, keeping a sharp
look-out upon his movements, followed at some little distance, until
they, at length, stood on the extreme verge of the sands. Their near
approach seemed to render Desborough impatient.

"I expect, officers," he said, with a hastiness that, at any other
moment, would have called down immediate reproof, if not chastisement,
"you will only be losin' time here for nothin'; about a mile beyond
Hartley's there'll be plenty of pattridges at this hour, and I am jist
goin to start myself for a little shootin' in the Sandusky river."

"Than I presume," said Grantham, with a smile, "you are well provided
with silver bullets, Desborough; for, in the hurry of departure, you
seem likely to forget the only medium through which leaden ones can be
made available--not a rifle or a shot-gun do I see."

The man fixed his eyes for a moment, with a penetrating expression, on
the youth, as if he would have sought a meaning deeper than the words
implied. His reading seemed to satisfy him that all was right.

"What," he observed, with a leer, half cunning, half insolent, "if I
have hid my rifle near the Sandusky swamp, the last time I hunted
there?"

"In that case," observed the laughing Middlemore, to whom the
opportunity was irresistible, "you are going out on a _wild goose chase_
indeed. Your prospects for a good hunt, as you call it, cannot be said
to _be sure as a gun_; for in regard to the latter, you may depend some
one has discovered and _rifled_ it before this."

"You seem to have laid in a store of provisions for this trip,
Desborough," remarked Henry Grantham; "how long do you purpose being
absent?"

"I guess three or four days," was the sullen reply.

"Three or four days! why your bag contains"--and the officer partly
raised a corner of the sail, "provisions for a week, or, at least, for
_two_ for half that period."

The manner in which the _two_ was emphasised did not escape the
attention of the settler. He was visibly disconcerted, nor was he at all
reassured when the younger officer proceeded:

"By the bye, Desborough, we saw you leave the hut with a companion--what
has become of him?"

The settler, who had now recovered his self-possession, met the question
without the slightest show of hesitation:

"I expect you mean, young man," he said, with insufferable insolence, "a
help as I had from Hartley's farm, to assist gittin' down the things. He
took home along shore when I went back to the hut for the small bores."

"Oh ho, sir! the rifles are not then concealed near the Sandusky swamp,
I find?"

For once the wily settler felt his cunning had overreached itself. In
the first fury of his subdued rage, he muttered something amounting to a
desire that he could produce them at that moment, as he would well know
where to lodge the bullets--but, recovering himself, he said aloud:

"The rale fact is, I've a long gun hid, as I said, near the swamp, but
my small bore I always carry with me--only think, jist as I and
Hartley's help left the hut, I pit my rifle against the outside wall,
not being able to carry it down with the other things, and when I went
back a minute or two after, drot me if some tarnation rascal hadn't
stole it."

"And if you had the British rascal on t'other shore, you wouldn't be
long in tucking a knife into his gizzard, would you?" asked Middlemore,
in a nearly verbatim repetition of the horrid oath originally uttered by
Desborough. "I see nothing to warrant our interfering with him," he
continued in an under tone to his companion.

Not a little surprised to hear his words repeated, the man lost somewhat
of his confidence as he replied, "Well now, sure-_ly_, you officers
didn't think nothin' o' that--I expect I was in a mighty rage to find my
small bore gone, and I did curse a little heart_y_, to be sure."

"The small bore multiplied in your absence," observed Grantham; "when I
looked at the hut there were two."

"Then may be you can tell me who was the particular d----d rascal that
stole them," said the settler eagerly.

Middlemore laughed heartily at his companion who observed:

"The particular d----d rascal who removed, not stole them thence, stands
before you."

Again the settler looked disconcerted. After a moment's hesitation he
continued, with a forced grin that gave an atrocious expression to his
whole countenance:

"Well now, you officers are playing a purty considerable spry
trick--it's a good lark, I calculate--but you know, as the saying is,
enough's as good as a feast. Do tell me, Mr. Grantham," and his
discordant voice became more offensive in its effort at a tone of
entreaty, "Do tell me where you've hid my small bore; you little think,"
he concluded, with an emphasis then unnoticed by the officers, but
subsequently remembered to have been perfectly ferocious, "what reason I
have to vally it."

"We never descend to larks of the kind," coolly observed Grantham; "but
as you say you value your rifle, it shall be restored to you on one
condition."

"And what may that be?" asked the settler, somewhat startled at the
serious manner of the officer.

"That you show us what your canoe is freighted with. Here in the bows, I
mean."

"Why," rejoined the Yankee quickly, but, as if without design,
intercepting the officers' near approach, "that bag, I calculate,
contains my provisions, and these here blankets that you see, peepin'
like from under the sail, are what I makes my bed of while out huntin'."

"And are you quite certain there is nothing under those blankets?--nay
do not protest--you cannot answer for what may have occurred while your
back was turned, on your way to the hut for the rifle."

"By hell," exclaimed the settler, blusteringly, "were any man to tell
me, Jeremiah Desborough, that there was anythin' beside them blankets in
the canoe, I would lick him into a jelly, even though he could whip his
own weight in wild cats."

"So is it? Now then, Jeremiah Desborough, although I have never yet
tried to whip my own weight in wild cats, I tell you there is something
more than those blankets; and what is more, I insist upon seeing what
that something is."

The settler stood confounded. His eye rolled rapidly from one to the
other of the officers, at the boldness and determination of this
language. Singly, he could have crushed Henry Grantham in his gripe,
even as one of the bears of the forest, near the outskirt of which they
stood; but there were two, and while attacking the one, he was sure of
being assailed by the other--nay, what was worse, the neighborhood might
be alarmed. Moreover, although they had kept their cloaks carefully
wrapped around their persons, there could be little doubt that both
officers were armed, not, as they had originally given him to
understand, with fowling pieces, but with (at the present close quarters
at least) far more efficient weapons--pistols. He was relieved from his
embarrassment by Middlemore exclaiming:

"Nay, do not press the poor devil, Grantham; I dare say the story of his
hunting is all a hum, and that the fact is, he is merely going to earn
an honest penny in one of his free commercial speculations--a little
contraband," pointing his finger to the bows, "is it not, Desborough?"

"Why now, officer," said the settler, rapidly assuming a dogged air, as
if ashamed of the discovery that had been so acutely made, "you won't
hurt a poor feller for doin' a little in this way. Drot me, these are
hard times, and this here war jist beginnin' quite pits one to one's
shifts."

"This might do, Desborough, were your present freight an arrival instead
of a departure, but we all know that contraband is imported, not
exported."

"Mighty cute you are, I guess," replied the settler warily, with
something like the savage grin of the wild cat to which he had so
recently alluded; "but I expect it would be none so strange to have
packed up a few dried hog skins to stow away the goods I am goin' for."

"I should like to try the effect of a bullet among the skins," said
Grantham, leisurely drawing forth and cocking a pistol, after having
whispered something in the ear of his companion.

"Nay, officer," said Desborough, now for the first time manifesting
serious alarm, "you sure-_ly_ don't mean to bore a hole through them
innocent skins?"

"True!" said Middlemore, imitating. "If he fires, the hole will be
something more than _skin_ deep, I reckon--these pistols, to my
knowledge, send a bullet through a two inch plank at twenty paces."

As Middlemore thus expressed himself, both he and Grantham saw, or
fancied they saw, the blankets slightly agitated.

"Good place for a _hide_ that!" said the former, addressing his pun to
the settler, on whom it was totally lost, "show us those said skins, my
good fellow, and if we find they are not filled with anything it would
be treason in a professed British subject to export thus clandestinely,
we promise that you shall depart without further hindrance."

"Indeed, officer," muttered Desborough sullenly and doggedly, "I shan't
do no sich thing. You don't belong to the custom-house, I reckon, and so
I wish you a good day, for I have a considerable long course to run, and
must be movin'." Then seizing the paddles that were lying on the sand,
he prepared to shove the canoe from the beach.

"Not at least before I have sent a bullet to ascertain the true quality
of your skins," said Grantham, levelling his pistol.

"Sure-_ly_," said Desborough, as he turned and drew himself to the full
height of his bony and muscular figure, while his eye measured the
officer from head to foot, with a look of concentrated but suppressed
fury, "you wouldn't _dare_ to do this--you wouldn't dare to fire into my
canoe--besides, consider," he said, in a tone somewhat deprecating,
"your bullet may go through her, and you would hardly do a feller the
injury to make him lose the chance of a good cargo."

"Then why provoke such a disaster by refusing to show us what is beneath
those blankets?"

"Because it's my pleasure to do so," fiercely retorted the other, "and I
won't show them to no man."

"Then it is my pleasure to fire," said Grantham. "The injury be on your
own head, Desborough--one--two--"

At this moment the sail was violently agitated--something, struggling
for freedom, cast the blankets on one side, and presently the figure of
a man stood upright in the bows of the canoe, and gazed around him with
an air of stupid astonishment.

"What," exclaimed Middlemore, retreating back a pace or two, in
unfeigned surprise; "has that pistol started up, like the ghost in
Hamlet, Ensign Paul Emilius Theophilus Arnoldi, of the United States
Michigan Militia--a prisoner on his parole of honor? and yet attempting
a clandestine departure from the country--how is this?"

"Not this merely," exclaimed Grantham, "but a traitor to his country,
and a deserter from our service. This fellow," he pursued, in answer to
an inquiring look of his companion, "is a scoundrel, who deserted three
years since from the regiment you relieved. I recognised him yesterday
on his landing, as my brother Gerald, who proposed making his report to
the general this morning, had done before. Let us secure both,
Middlemore; for, thank heaven, we have been enabled to detect the
traitor at last in that which will excuse his final expulsion from the
soil, even if no worse befall him. I have only tampered with him thus
long to render his conviction more complete."

"Secure me! secure Jeremiah Desborough?" exclaimed the settler, with
rage manifest in the clenching of his teeth and the tension of every
muscle of his iron frame, "and that for jist tryin' to save a
countryman--well, we'll see who'll have the best of it."

Before Grantham could anticipate the movement, the active and powerful
Desborough had closed with him in a manner to prevent his making use of
his pistol, had he even so desired. In the next instant it was wrested
from him, and thrown far from the spot on which he struggled with his
adversary, but at fearful odds against himself. Henry Grantham, although
well and actively made, was of slight proportion, and yet in boyhood.
Desborough, on the contrary, was in the full force of a vigorous
manhood. A struggle, hand to hand, between two combatants so
disproportioned, could not, consequently, be long doubtful as to its
issue. No sooner had the formidable settler closed with his enemy, than
pressing the knuckles of his iron hand, which met round the body of the
officer, with violence against his spine, he threw him backward with
force upon the sands. Grasping his victim with one hand as he lay upon
him, he seemed, as Grantham afterwards declared, to be groping for his
knife with the other. He was evidently anxious to despatch one enemy, in
order that he might fly to the assistance of his son, for it was he whom
Middlemore, with a powerful effort, had dragged from the canoe to the
beach. While his right hand was still groping far the knife--an object
which the powerful resistance of the yet unsubdued, though prostrate,
officer rendered somewhat difficult of attainment--the report of a
pistol was heard, fired evidently by one of the other combatants.
Immediately the settler looked up to see who was the triumphant party.
Neither had fallen, and Middlemore, if anything, had the advantage of
his enemy; but to his infinite dismay, Desborough beheld a horseman,
evidently attracted by the report of the pistol, urging his course with
the rapidity of lightning, along the firm sands, and advancing with
cries and vehement jesticulations to the rescue.

Springing with the quickness of thought from his victim, the settler was
in the next moment at the side of Middlemore. Seizing him from behind by
for arm within his nervous grasp, he pressed the latter with such
prodigious force as to cause him to relinquish, by a convulsive
movement, the firm hold he had hitherto kept of his adversary.

"In, boy, to the canoe for your life," he exclaimed, hurriedly as,
following up his advantage, he spun the officer round, and sent him
tottering to the spot where Grantham lay, still stupified and half
throttled. The next instant saw him heaving the canoe from the shore,
with all the exertion called for by his desperate situation. And all
this was done so rapidly, in so much less time than it will take our
readers to trace it, that before the horseman, so opportunely arriving,
had reached the spot, the canoe, with its inmates, had pushed from the
shore.

Without pausing to consider the rashness and apparent impracticability
of his undertaking, the strange horseman, checking his rein, and burying
the rowels of his spurs deep into the flanks of his steed, sent him
bounding and plunging into the lake, in pursuit of the fugitives.

He himself evinced every symptom of one in a state of intoxication.
Brandishing a stout cudgel over his head, and pealing forth a shout of
defiance, he rolled from side to side on his spirited charger, like some
laboring bark careering to the violence of the winds, but ever, like
that bark, regaining an equilibrium that was never thoroughly lost.
Shallow as the lake was at this point for a considerable distance, it
was long before the noble animal lost its footing; and thus had its
rider been enabled to arrive within a few paces of the canoe, at the
very moment when the increasing depth of the water, in compelling the
horse to the less expeditious process of swimming, gave a proportionate
advantage to the pursued. No sooner, however, did the Centaur-like rider
find that he was losing ground, than, again darting his spurs into the
flanks of his charger, he made every effort to reach the canoe. Maddened
by the pain, the snorting beast half rose upon the calm element, like
some monster of the deep, and, making two or three desperate plunges
with his fore feet, succeeded in reaching the stem. Then commenced a
short but extraordinary conflict. Bearing up his horse as he swam, with
the bridle in his teeth, the bold rider threw his left hand upon the
stern of the vessel, and brandishing his cudgel in the right, seemed to
provoke both parties to the combat. Desborough, who had risen from the
stern at his approach, stood upright in the centre, his companion still
paddling at the bows; and between these two a singular contest now
ensued. Armed with the formidable knife which he had about his person,
the settler made the most desperate and infuriated efforts to reach his
assailant; but in so masterly a manner did his adversary use his simple
weapon, that every attempt was foiled, and more than once did the hard
iron-wood descend upon his shoulders, in a manner to be heard from the
shore. Once or twice the settler stooped to evade some falling blow,
and, rushing forward, sought to sever the hand which still retained its
hold of the stern; but, with an activity remarkable in so old a man as
his assailant, for he was upwards of sixty years of age, the hand was
removed--and the settler, defeated in his object, was amply repaid for
his attempt, by a severe collision of his bones with the cudgel. At
length, apparently enjoined by his companion, the younger removed his
paddle, and, standing up also in the canoe, aimed a blow with its
knobbed handle at the head of the horse, at a moment when his rider was
fully engaged with Desborough. The quick-sighted old man saw the action,
and, as the paddle descended, an upward stroke from his own heavy weapon
sent it flying in fragments in the air, while a rapid and returning blow
fell upon the head of the paddler, and prostrated him at length in the
canoe. The opportunity afforded by this diversion, momentary as it was,
was not lost upon Desborough. The horseman, who, in his impatience to
avenge the injury offered to the animal, which seemed to form a part of
himself, had utterly forgotten the peril of his hand; and before he
could return from the double blow that had been so skilfully wielded, to
his first enemy, the knife of the latter had penetrated his hand, which,
thus rendered powerless, now relinquished its grasp. Desborough, whose
object--desperate character as he usually was--seemed now rather to fly
than to fight, availed himself of this advantage to hasten to the bows
of the canoe, where, striding across the body of his insensible
companion, he with a few vigorous strokes of the remaining paddle, urged
the lagging bark rapidly ahead. In no way intimidated by his disaster,
the courageous old man, again brandishing his cudgel, and vociferating
taunts of defiance, would have continued the pursuit; but panting as he
was, not only with the exertion he had made, but under the weight of his
impatient rider, in an element in which he was supported merely by his
own buoyancy, the strength and spirit of the animal began now
perceptibly to fail him, and he turned, despite of every effort to
prevent him, towards the shore. It was fortunate for the former that
there were no arms in the canoe, or neither he nor the horse would, in
all probability, have returned alive; such was the opinion, at least,
pronounced by those who were witnesses of the strange scene, and who
remarked the infuriated but impotent gestures of Desborough, as the old
man, having once more gotten his steed into depth, slowly pursued his
course to the shore, but with the same wild brandishing of his enormous
cudgel, and the same rocking from side to side, until his body was often
at right angles with that of his jaded, but sure-footed beast. As he is,
however, a character meriting rather more than the casual notice we have
bestowed, we shall take the opportunity, while he is hastening to the
discomfited officers on the beach, more particularly to describe him.




CHAPTER VIII.


Nearly midway between Elliott's and Hartley's points, both of which are
remarkable for the low and sandy nature of the soil, the land, raising
gradually towards the centre, assumes a more healthy and arable aspect;
and, on its highest elevation, stood a snug, well cultivated property,
called Girty's farm. From this height, crowned on its extreme summit by
a neat and commodious farm-house, the far reaching sands, forming the
points above-named, are distinctly visible. Immediately in the rear, and
commencing beyond the orchard which surrounded the house, stretched
forestward, and to a considerable distance, a tract of rich and
cultivated soil, separated into strips by zig-zag enclosures, and
offering to the eye of the traveller, in appropriate season, the several
species of American produce, such as Indian corn, buck wheat, &c., with
here and there a few patches of indifferent tobacco. Thus far of the
property, a more minute description of which is unimportant. The
proprietors of this neat little place were a father and son, to the
latter of whom was consigned, for reasons which will appear presently,
the sole management of the farm. Of him we will merely say that, at the
period of which we treat, he was a fine, strapping, dark curley-haired,
white-teethed, red-lipped, broad-shouldered, and altogether comely and
gentle tempered youth, of about twenty, who had, although unconsciously,
monopolized the affections of almost every well favored maiden of his
class, for miles around him--advantages of nature from which had
resulted a union with one of the prettiest of the fair competitors for
connubial happiness.

The father we may not dismiss so hastily. He was--but, before attempting
the portraiture of his character, we will, in the best of our ability,
sketch his person.

Let the reader fancy an old man of about sixty, possessed of that
comfortable amptitude of person which is the result rather of a mind at
peace with itself, and undisturbed by worldly care, than of any marked
indulgence in indolent habits. Let him next invest this comfortable
person in a sort of Oxford grey, coarse capote, or frock, of capacious
size, tied closely round the waist with one of those-parti-colored
worsted sashes, we have, on a former occasion described as peculiar to
the bourgeois settlers of the country. Next, suffering the eye to
descend on and admire the rotund and fleshy thigh, let it drop gradually
to the stout and muscular legs, which he must invest in a pair of
closely fitting leathern trowsers, the wide-seamed edges of which are
slit into innumerable small strips, much after the fashion of the
American Indian. When he has completed the survey of the lower
extremities, to which he must not fail to subjoin a foot of
proportionate dimensions, tightly moccasined, and, moreover, furnished
with a pair of old English hunting spurs, the reader must then examine
the head with which this heavy piece of animated machinery is
surmounted. From beneath a coarse felt hat, garnished with an inch-wide
band or ribbon, let him imagine he sees the yet vigorous grey hair,
descending over a forehead not altogether wanting in a certain dignity
of expression, and terminating in a beetling brow, silvered also with
the frost of years, and shadowing a sharp, grey, intelligent eye, the
vivacity of whose expression denotes its possessor to be far in advance,
in spirit, even of his still active and powerful frame. With these must
be connected a snub nose--a double chin, adorned with grizzly honors,
which are borne, like the fleece of the lamb, only occasionally to the
shears of the shearer--and a small, and not unhandsome, mouth, at
certain periods pursed into an expression of irresistible humor, but
more frequently expressing a sense of lofty independence. The grisly
neck, little more or less bared, as the season may demand--a kerchief
loosely tied around the collar of a checkered shirt--and a knotted
cudgel in his hand--and we think our sketch of Simon Girty is complete.

Nor must the reader picture to himself this combination of animal
properties, either standing, or lying, or walking, or sitting; but in a
measure glued, Centaur-like, to the back of a noble stallion, vigorous,
active, and of a dark chestnut color, with silver mane and tail. In the
course of many years that Simon had resided in the neighborhood, no one
could remember to have seen him stand, or lie, or walk, or sit, while
away from his home, unless absolutely compelled. Both horse and rider
seemed as though they could not exist while separated, and yet
Silvertail (thus was the stallion named) was not more remarkable in
sleekness of coat, soundness of carcase, and fleetness of pace, than his
rider was in the characteristics of corpulency and joviality.

Simon Girty had passed the greater part of his younger days in America.
He had borne arms in the revolution, and was one of those faithful
loyalists, who preferring rather to abandon a soil which, after all, was
one of adoption, than the flag under which they had been nurtured, had,
at the termination of that contest, passed over into Canada. Having
served in one of those irregular corps, several of which had been
employed with the Indians, during the revolutionary contest, he had
acquired much of the language of these latter, and to this knowledge was
indebted for the situation of interpreter which he had for years
enjoyed. Unhappily for himself, however, the salary attached to the
office was sufficient to keep him in independence, and, to the idleness
consequent on this, (for the duties of an interpreter were only
occasional,) might have been attributed the rapid growth of a vice--an
addiction to liquor--which unchecked indulgence had now ripened into
positive disease.

Great was the terror that Simon was wont to excite in the good people of
Amherstburg. With Silvertail at his speed he would gallop into the town,
brandishing his cudgel, and reeling from side to side, exhibiting at one
moment the joyous character of a Silenus, at another, as we have already
shown--that of an inebriated Centaur. Occasionally he would make his
appearance, holding his sides convulsed with laughter, as he reeled and
tottered in every direction, but without ever losing his equilibrium. At
other times he would utter a loud shout, and, brandishing his cudgel,
dart at full speed along the streets, as if he purposed singly to carry
the town by (what Middlemore often facetiously called) a _coup de main_.
At these moments were to be seen mothers rushing into the street to look
for, and hurry away, their loitering offspring, while even adults were
glad to hasten their movements, in order to escape collision with the
formidable Simon; not that either apprehended the slightest act of
personal violence from the old man, for he was harmless of evil as a
child, but because they feared the polished hoofs of Silvertail, which
shone amid the clouds of dust they raised as he passed, like rings of
burnished silver. Even the very Indians, with whom the streets were at
this period habitually crowded, were glad to hug the sides of the
houses, while Simon passed; and they who, on other occasions, would have
deemed it in the highest degree derogatory to their dignity to have
stepped aside at the approach of danger, or to have relaxed a muscle of
their stern countenance, would then open a passage with a rapidity which
in them was remarkable, and burst into loud laughter as they fled from
side to side to make way for Simon. Sometimes, on these occasions, the
latter would suddenly check Silvertail, while in full career, and, in a
voice that could be heard from almost every quarter of the little town,
harangue them for half an hour together in their own language, and with
an air of authority that was ludicrous to those who witnessed it--and
must have been witnessed to be conceived. Occasionally a guttural "ugh"
would be responded in mock approval of the speech, but more frequently a
laugh, on the part of the more youthful of his red auditors, was the
only notice taken. His lecture concluded, Simon would again brandish his
cudgel, and vociferate another shout; then betaking himself to the
nearest store, he would urge Silvertail upon the footway, and with a tap
of his rude cudgel against the door, summon whoever was within, to
appear with a glass of his favorite beverage. And this would he repeat,
until he had drained what he called his stirrup cup, at every shop in
the place where the poisonous liquor was vended.

Were such a character to make his appearance in the Mother Country,
endangering, to all perception, the lives of the Sovereign's liege
subjects, he would, if in London, be hunted to death like a wild beast,
by at least one half of the Metropolitan police; and, if in a provincial
town, would be beset by a posse of constables. No one, however--not even
the solitary constable of Amherstburgh, ever ventured to interfere with
Simon Girty, who was in some degree a privileged character. Nay, strange
as it may appear, notwithstanding his confirmed habit of inebriety, the
old man stood high in the neighborhood, not only with simple but with
gentle, for there were seasons when he evinced himself "a rational
being," and there was a dignity of manner about him, which, added to his
then quietude of demeanor, insensibly interested in his favor, those
even who were most forward to condemn the vice to which he was
unfortunately addicted. Not, be it understood, that in naming seasons of
rationality, we mean seasons of positive abstemiousness; nor can this
well be, seeing that Simon never passed a day of strict sobriety during
the last twenty years of his life. But, it might be said, that his three
divisions of day--morning, noon and night--were characterised by three
corresponding divisions of drunkenness--namely, drunk, drunker, and most
drunk. It was, therefore, in the first stage of his graduated scale,
that Simon appeared in his most amiable and winning, because his least
uproarious, mood. His libations commenced at early morn, and his
inebriety became progressive to the close of the day. To one who could
ride home at night, as he invariably did, after some twelve hours of
hard and continued drinking, without rolling from his horse, it would
not be difficult to enact the sober man in its earlier stages. As his
intoxication was relative to himself, so was his sobriety in regard to
others--and although, at mid-day, he might have swallowed sufficient to
have caused another man to bite the dust, he looked and spoke, and
acted, as if he had been a model of temperance. If he passed a lady in
the street, or saw her at her window Simon Girty's hat was instantly
removed from his venerable head, and his body inclined forward over his
saddle-bow, with all the easy grace of a well-born gentleman, and one
accustomed from infancy to pay deference to woman; nay, this at an hour
when he had imbibed enough of his favorite liquor to have rendered most
men insensible even to their presence. These habits of courtesy,
extended moreover to the officers of the garrison, and such others among
the civilians as Simon felt to be worthy of his notice. His tones of
salutation, at these moments, were soft, his manner respectful, even
graceful; and while there was nothing of the abashedness of the
inferior, there was also no offensive familiarity, in the occasional
conversations held by him with the different individuals, or groups, who
surrounded and accosted him.

Such was Simon Girty, in the first stage of his inebriety, no outward
sign of which was visible. In the second, his perception became more
obscured, his voice less distinct, his tones less gentle and
insinuating, and occasionally the cudgel would rise in rapid flourish,
while now and then a loud halloo would burst from lungs, which the
oceans of whiskey they had imbibed had not yet, apparently, much
affected. These were infallible indices of the more feverish stage, of
which the gallopings of Silvertail--the vociferations of his master--the
increasing flourishing of the cudgel--the supposed danger of
children--and the consequent alarm of mothers, together with the
harangues to the Indian auditory, were the almost daily results.

There was one individual, however, in the town of Amherstburgh, of whom,
despite his natural wilfulness of character, Simon Girty stood much in
awe, and that to such a degree, that if he chanced to encounter him in
his mad progress, his presence had the effect of immediately quieting
him. This gentleman was the father of the Granthams, who, although then
filling a civil situation, had formerly been a field officer in the
corps in which Simon had served; and who had carried with him into
private life those qualities of stern excellence for which he had been
remarkable as a soldier--qualities which had won to him the respect and
affection, not only of the little community over which, in the capacity
of its chief magistrate, he had presided, but also of the inhabitants of
the country generally for many miles around. Temperate to an extreme
himself, Major Grantham held the vice of drunkenness in deserved
abhorrence, and so far from sharing the general toleration extended to
the old man, whose originality (harmless as he ever was in his
intoxication,) often proved a motive for encouragement; he never failed,
on encountering him, to bestow his censure in a manner that had an
immediate and obvious effect on the culprit. If Simon, from one end of
the street, beheld Major Grantham approaching at the other, he was wont
to turn abruptly away; but if perchance the magistrate came so
unexpectedly upon him as to preclude the possibility of retreat, he
appeared as one suddenly sobered, and would rein in his horse, fully
prepared for the stern lecture which he was well aware would ensue.

It afforded no slight amusement to the townspeople, and particularly
the young urchins, who usually looked up to Simon with awe,
to be witnesses of one of those rencontres. In a moment, the
shouting--galloping--rampaging cudgel-wielder was to be seen changed, as
if by some magic power, into a being of almost child-like obedience,
while he listened attentively and deferentially to the lecture of Major
Grantham, whom he both loved and feared. On these occasions, he would
hang his head upon his chest--confess his error--and promise solemnly to
amend his course of life, although it must be needless to add that never
was that promise heeded. Not unfrequently, after these lectures, when
Major Grantham had left him, Simon would turn his horse, and, with his
arms still folded across his chest, suffer Silvertail to pursue his
homeward course, while he himself, silent and thoughtful, and looking
like a culprit taken in the fact, sat steadily in his saddle, without
however venturing to turn his eye either to the right or to the left, as
he passed through the crowd, who, with faces strongly expressive of
mirth, marked their sense of the change which had been produced in the
old interpreter. Those who had seen him thus for the first time, might
have supposed that a reformation in one so apparently touched would have
ensued; but long experience had taught that, although a twinge of
conscience, or more probably fear of, and respect for, the magistrate,
might induce a momentary humiliation, all traces of cause and effect
would have vanished with the coming dawn.

To the sterling public virtues he boasted, Simon Girty united that of
loyalty in no common degree. A more staunch adherent to the British
crown existed nowhere in the sovereign's dominions; and such was his
devotedness to "King George," that, albeit he could not in all
possibility have made the sacrifice of his love for whiskey, he would
willingly have suffered his left arm to be severed from his body, had
such proof of his attachment to the throne been required. Proportioned
to his love for everything British, arose, as a natural consequence,
his dislike for everything anti-British; and especially for those who
under the guise of allegiance, had conducted themselves in a way to
become objects of suspicion to the authorities. A near neighbor of
Desborough, he had watched him as narrowly as his long indulged habits
of intoxication would permit, and he had been the means of conveying to
Major Grantham much of the information which had induced that
uncompromising magistrate to seek the expulsion of the dangerous
settler--an object which, however, had been defeated by the perjury of
the unprincipled individual, in taking the customary oaths of
allegiance. Since the death of Major Grantham, for whom, notwithstanding
his numerous lectures, he had ever entertained that reverential esteem
which is the result of the ascendancy of the powerful and virtuous mind
over the weak, and not absolutely vicious--and for whose sons he felt
almost a fatherly affection--old Girty had but indifferently troubled
himself about Desborough, who was fully aware of what he had previously
done to detect and expose him, and consequently repaid with usury--an
hostility of feeling which, however, had never been brought to any
practical issue.

As a matter of course, Simon was of the number of anxious persons
collected on the bank of the river, on the morning of the capture of the
American gun-boat; but, as he was only then emerging from his first
stage of intoxication (which we have already shown to be tantamount to
perfect sobriety in any other person), there had been no time for a
display of those uproarious qualities which characterized the last, and
which, once let loose, scarcely even the presence of the General could
have restrained. With an acuteness, however, which is often to be
remarked in habitual drunkards at moments when their intellect is
unclouded by the confusedness to which they are more commonly subject,
the hawk's eye of the old man had detected several particulars which had
escaped the general attention, and of which he had, at a later period of
the day, retained sufficient recollection to connect with an accidental,
yet important discovery.

At the moment when the prisoners were landed, he had remarked
Desborough, who had uttered the hasty exclamation already recorded,
stealing cautiously through the surrounding crowd, and apparently
endeavoring to arrest the attention of the younger of the American
officers. An occasional pressing of the spur into the flank of
Silvertail, enabled him to turn as the settler turned, and thus to keep
him constantly in view; until, at length, as the latter approached the
group of which General Brock and Commodore Barclay formed the centre, he
observed him distinctly to make a sign of intelligence to the Militia
Officer, whose eye he at length attracted, and who now bestowed upon him
a glance of hasty and furtive recognition. Curiosity induced Simon to
move Silvertail a little more in advance, in order to be enabled to
obtain a better view of the prisoners; but the latter turning away his
head at the moment, although apparently without design, baffled his
penetration. Still he had a confused and indistinct idea that the person
was not wholly unknown to him.

When the prisoners had been disposed of, and the crowd dispersed, Simon
continued to linger near the council-house, exchanging greetings with
the newly arrived chiefs, and drinking from whatever whiskey bottle was
offered to him until he at length gave rapid indication of arriving at
his third or grand climacteric. Then were to be heard the loud
shoutings of his voice, and the clattering of Silvertail's hoofs; as
horse and rider flew like lightning past the fort into the town, where a
more than usual quantity of the favorite liquid was quaffed at the
several stores, in commemoration, as he said, of the victory of his
noble boy, Gerald Grantham, and to the success of the British arms
generally throughout the war.

Among the faults of Simon Girty, was certainly not that of neglecting
the noble animal to whom long habit had deeply attached him. Silvertail
was equally a favorite with the son, who had more than once ridden him
in the occasional races that took place upon the hard sands of the lake
shore, and in which he had borne everything away. As Simon was ever
conscious and collected about this hour, care was duly taken by him that
his horse should be fed, without the trouble to himself of dismounting.
Even as Girty sat in his saddle, Silvertail was in the daily practice of
munching his corn out of a small trough that stood in the yard of the
inn where he usually stopped, while his rider conversed with whoever
chanced to be near him--the head of his cudgel resting on his ample
thigh, and a glass of his favorite whiskey in his other and unoccupied
hand.

Now it chanced that, on this particular day, Simon neglected to pay his
customary visit to the inn, an omission which was owing rather to the
hurry and excitement occasioned by the stirring events of the morning,
than to any wilful neglect of his steed. Nor was it until some hours
after dark that, seized with a sudden fit of caressing Silvertail, whose
glossy neck he patted, until the tears of warm affection started to his
eyes, he bethought him of the omission of which he had been guilty.
Scarcely was the thought conceived, before Silvertail was again at full
career, and on his way to the inn. The gate stood open, and, as Simon
entered, he saw two individuals retire, as if to escape observation,
within a shed adjoining the stable. Drunk as he was, a vague
consciousness of the truth, connected as it was with his earlier
observation, flashed across the old man's mind; and when, in answer to
his loud hallooing, a factotum, on whom devolved all the numerous
officers of the inn, from waiter down to ostler, made his appearance,
Simon added to his loudly expressed demand for Silvertail's corn, a
whispered injunction to return with a light. During the absence of the
man, he commenced trolling a verse of "Old King Cole," a favorite ballad
with him, and with the indifference of one who believes himself to be
alone. Presently the light appeared, and, as the bearer approached, its
rays fell on the forms of two men, retired into the furthest extremity
of the shed and crouching to the earth as if in concealment, whom Simon
recognised at a glance. He however took no notice of the circumstance to
the ostler, or even gave the slightest indication, by look or movement,
of what he had seen.

When the man had watered Silvertail and put his corn in the trough, he
returned to the house, and Simon, with his arms folded across his chest,
as his horse crunched his food, listened attentively to catch whatever
conversation might ensue between the loiterers. Not a word however was
uttered, and soon after he saw them emerge from their concealment--step
cautiously behind him--cross the yard towards the gate by which he had
entered--and then disappear altogether. During this movement the old man
had kept himself perfectly still, so that there could be no suspicion
that he had in any way observed them. Nay, he even spoke once or twice
coaxingly to Silvertail, as if conscious only of the presence of that
animal, and, in short, conducted himself in a manner well worthy of the
cunning of a drunken man. The reflections to which this incident gave
rise, had the effect of calling up a desperate fit of loyalty, which he
only awaited the termination of Silvertail's hasty meal to put into
immediate activity. Another shout to the ostler, a second glass
swallowed, the reckoning paid, Silvertail bitted, and away went Simon
once more at his speed through the now deserted town, the road out of
which to his own place, skirted partly the banks of the river, and
partly those of the lake.

After galloping about a mile, the old man found the feet of Silvertail
burying themselves momentarily deeper in the sands which form the road
near Elliot's Point. Unwilling to distress him, he pulled him up to a
walk, and, throwing the reins upon his neck, folded his arms as usual,
rolling from side to side at every moment, and audibly musing, in the
thick, husky voice that was common to him in inebriety.

"Yes, by Jove, I am as true and loyal a subject as any in the service of
King George, God bless him (here he bowed his head involuntarily and
with respect), and though, as that poor dear old Grantham used to say, I
do drink a little (hiccup), still there's no great harm in that. It
keeps a man alive. I am the boy, at all events, to scent a rogue. That
was Desborough and his son I saw just now, and the rascals, he! he!
he!--the rascals thought, I suppose, I was too drunk (hiccup), too drunk
to twig them. We shall tell them another tale before the night is over.
D----n such skulking scoundrels, I say. Whoa! Silvertail, whoa!--what do
you see there, my boy, eh?"

Silvertail only replied by the sharp pricking of his ears, and a side
movement, which seemed to indicate a desire to keep as much aloof as
possible from a cluster of walnut trees, which, interspersed with wild
grape vines, may be seen to this hour, resting in gloomy relief on the
white deep sands that extend considerably in that direction.

"Never mind, my boy, we shall be at home presently," pursued Simon,
patting the neck of his unquiet companion. "But, no--I had forgotten; we
must give chase to these (hiccup) to these rascals. Now there's that son
Bill of mine fast asleep, I suppose, in the arms of his little wife.
They do nothing but lie in bed, while their poor old fathe

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