The Literary World Seventh Reader Part 5

Thereupon answered the bridegroom: "Let all be forgotten between us,-- All save the dear old friends.h.i.+p, and that shall grow older and dearer!"

Then the Captain advanced, and, bowing, saluted Priscilla, Wis.h.i.+ng her joy of her wedding, and loudly lauding her husband.

Then he said with a smile: "I should have remembered the adage,-- If you would be well served, you must serve yourself; and, moreover, No man can gather cherries in Kent at the season of Christmas!"

Great was the people's amazement, and greater yet their rejoicing, Thus to behold once more the sunburnt face of their Captain, Whom they had mourned as dead; and they gathered and crowded about him, Eager to see him and hear him, forgetful of bride and of bridegroom, Questioning, answering, laughing, and each interrupting the other, Till the good Captain declared, being quite overpowered and bewildered, He had rather by far break into an Indian encampment, Than come again to a wedding to which he had not been invited.

Meanwhile the bridegroom went forth and stood with the bride at the doorway, Breathing the perfumed air of that warm and beautiful morning.

Touched with autumnal tints, but lonely and sad in the suns.h.i.+ne, Lay extended before them the land of toil and privation; But to their eyes transfigured, it seemed as the Garden of Eden, Filled with the presence of G.o.d, whose voice was the sound of the ocean.

Soon was their vision disturbed by the noise and stir of departure, Friends coming forth from the house, and impatient of longer delaying.

Then from a stall near at hand, amid exclamations of wonder, Alden the thoughtful, the careful, so happy, so proud of Priscilla, Brought out his snow-white bull, obeying the hand of its master, Led by a cord that was tied to an iron ring in its nostrils, Covered with crimson cloth, and a cus.h.i.+on placed for a saddle.

She should not walk, he said, through the dust and heat of the noonday; Nay, she should ride like a queen, not plod along like a peasant.

Somewhat alarmed at first, but rea.s.sured by the others, Placing her hand on the cus.h.i.+on, her foot in the hand of her husband, Gayly, with joyous laugh, Priscilla mounted her palfrey.

Onward the bridal procession now moved to the new habitation, Happy husband and wife, and friends conversing together.

Down through the golden leaves the sun was pouring his splendors, Gleaming on purple grapes, that, from branches above them suspended, Mingled their odorous breath with the balm of the pine and the fir-tree, Wild and sweet as the cl.u.s.ters that grew in the valley of [v]Eshcol.

Like a picture it seemed of the primitive, pastoral ages, Fresh with the youth of the world, and recalling Rebecca and Isaac, Old and yet ever new, and simple and beautiful always, Love immortal and young in the endless succession of lovers, So through the Plymouth woods pa.s.sed onward the bridal procession.

HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.

=HELPS TO STUDY=

Miles Standish was one of the early settlers of Plymouth colony. He came over soon after the landing of the _Mayflower_ and was made captain of the colony because of his military experience. The feeble settlement was in danger from the Indians, and Standish's services were of great importance. He was one of the leaders of Plymouth for a number of years.

Longfellow shaped the legend of his courts.h.i.+p into one of the most beautiful poems of American literature, vividly describing the hards.h.i.+ps and perils of the early life of New England.

I. Where is the scene of the story laid? At what time did it begin?

What is the first impression you get of Miles Standish? of John Alden? Read the lines that bring out the soldierly qualities of the one and the studious nature of the other. What lines show that Standish had fought on foreign soil? Read the lines that show John Alden's interest in Priscilla. What request did Standish make of Alden? How was it received? Why did Alden accept the task?

II. What time of the year was it? How do you know? Contrast Alden's feelings with the scene around him. What were Priscilla's feelings toward Alden? Quote lines that show this. How did he fulfill his task? With what question did Priscilla finally meet his eloquent appeal in behalf of his friend? How did Standish receive Alden's report? What interruption occurred?

III. What report brought about the marriage of John Alden and Priscilla? Read the lines that describe the beauty of their wedding-day. What time of year was it? How do you know? What custom was followed in the marriage ceremony? Look in the Bible for a description of the marriage of Ruth and Boaz. Find other biblical references in the poem. Who appeared at the end of the ceremony?

How was he received? Contrast his mood now with the mood when he left to fight the Indians. What adage did he use to show the difference between his age and Priscilla's? Describe the final scene of the wedding--the procession to the new home. Tell what you know of early life in Ma.s.sachusetts.

SUPPLEMENTARY READING

Gareth and Lynette--Alfred Tennyson.

The Courtin'--James Russell Lowell.

Evangeline--Henry W. Longfellow.

THE FRIENDs.h.i.+P OF NANTAQUAS

This story is taken from Mary Johnston's novel, _To Have and to Hold_, which describes the early settlement of Virginia. The most important event of this period was the Indian ma.s.sacre of 1622. For some years the whites and Indians had lived in peace, and it was believed that there would be no further trouble from the savages.

However, Opechancanough, the head chief of the Powhatan confederacy, formed a plot against the white men and suddenly attacked them with great fury. Hundreds of the English settlers were slain. The author of the novel, taking the bare outline of the ma.s.sacre as given in the early histories, has woven around it the graphic story of Captain Ralph Percy and his saving of the colony.

Percy, unlike Miles Standish, is not a historical character.

I.

A man who hath been a soldier and adventurer into far and strange countries must needs have faced Death many times and in many guises. I had learned to know that grim countenance, and to have no great fear of it. The surprise of our sudden capture by the Indians had now worn away, and I no longer struggled to loose my bonds, Indian-tied and not to be loosened.

Another slow hour and I bethought me of Diccon, my servant and companion in captivity, and spoke to him, asking him how he did. He answered from the other side of the lodge that was our prison, but the words were scarcely out of his mouth before our guard broke in upon us, commanding silence.

It was now moonlight without the lodge and very quiet. The night was far gone; already we could smell the morning, and it would come apace.

Knowing the swiftness of that approach and what the early light would bring, I strove for a courage which should be the steadfastness of the Christian and not the vainglorious pride of the heathen.

Suddenly, in the first gray dawn, as at a trumpet's call, the village awoke. From the long communal houses poured forth men, women, and children; fires sprang up, dispersing the mist, and a commotion arose through the length and breadth of the place. The women made haste with their cooking and bore maize cakes and broiled fish to the warriors, who sat on the ground in front of the royal lodge. Diccon and I were loosed, brought without, and allotted our share of the food. We ate sitting side by side with our captors, and Diccon, with a great cut across his head, even made merry.

In the usual order of things in an Indian village, the meal over, tobacco should have followed. But now not a pipe was lit, and the women made haste to take away the platters and to get all things in readiness for what was to follow. The [v]werowance of the [v]Paspaheghs rose to his feet, cast aside his mantle, and began to speak. He was a man in the prime of life, of a great figure, strong as a [v]Susquehannock, and a savage cruel and crafty beyond measure. Over his breast, stained with strange figures, hung a chain of small bones, and the scalp locks of his enemies fringed his moccasins. No player could be more skillful in gesture and expression, no poet more nice in the choice of words, no general more quick to raise a wild enthusiasm in the soldiers to whom he called. All Indians are eloquent, but this savage was a leader among them.

He spoke now to some effect. Commencing with a day in the moon of blossoms when for the first time winged canoes brought white men into the [v]Powhatan, he came down through year after year to the present hour, ceased, and stood in silence, regarding his triumph. It was complete. In its wild excitement the village was ready then and there to make an end of us, who had sprung to our feet and stood with our backs against a great bay tree, facing the maddened throng. Much the best would it be for us if the tomahawks left the hands that were drawn back to throw, if the knives that were flourished in our faces should be buried to the haft in our hearts; and so we courted death, striving with word and look to infuriate our executioners to the point of forgetting their former purpose in the pa.s.sion for instant vengeance. It was not to be. The werowance spoke again, pointing to the hills which were dimly seen through the mist. A moment, and the hands clenched upon the weapons fell; another, and we were upon the march.

As one man, the village swept through the forest toward the rising ground that was but a few bowshots away. The young men bounded ahead to make the preparation; but the approved warriors and the old men went more sedately, and with them walked Diccon and I, as steady of step as they. The women and children for the most part brought up the rear, though a few impatient hags ran past us. One of these women bore a great burning torch, the flame and smoke streaming over her shoulder as she ran. Others carried pieces of bark heaped with the [v]slivers of pine of which every wigwam has store.

The sun was yet to rise when we reached a hollow amongst the low red hills. The place was a natural amphitheater, well fitted for a spectacle. Those Indians who could not crowd into the narrow level spread themselves over the rising ground and looked down with fierce laughter upon the driving of the stakes which the young men had brought.

The women and children scattered into the woods beyond the cleft between the hills and returned bearing great armfuls of dry branches. Taunting laughter, cries of savage triumph, the shaking of rattles, and the furious beating of two great drums combined to make a clamor deafening me to stupor. Above the horizon was the angry reddening of the heavens and the white mist curling up like smoke.

I sat down beside Diccon on the log. I did not speak to him, nor he to me; there seemed no need of speech. In the [v]pandemonium to which the world had narrowed, the one familiar, matter-of-course thing was that he and I were to die together.

The stakes were in the ground and painted red, the wood was properly fixed. The Indian woman who held the torch that was to light the pile ran past us, whirling the wood around her head to make it blaze more fiercely. As she went by she lowered the brand and slowly dragged it across my wrists. The beating of the drums suddenly ceased, and the loud voices died away.

Seeing that they were coming for us, Diccon and I rose to await them.

When they were nearly upon us, I turned to him and held out my hand.

He made no motion to take it. Instead, he stood with fixed eyes looking past me and slightly upward. A sudden pallor had overspread the bronze of his face.

"There's a verse somewhere," he said in a quiet voice,--"it's in the Bible, I think--I heard it once long ago: 'I will look unto the hills from whence cometh my help.' Look, sir!"

I turned and followed with my eyes the pointing of his finger. In front of us the bank rose steeply, bare to the summit,--no trees, only the red earth, with here and there a low growth of leafless bushes. Behind it was the eastern sky. Upon the crest, against the sunrise, stood the figure of a man--an Indian. From one shoulder hung an otterskin, and a great bow was in his hand. His limbs were bare, and as he stood motionless, bathed in the rosy light, he looked like some bronze G.o.d, perfect from the beaded moccasins to the calm, uneager face below the feathered head-dress. He had but just risen above the brow of the hill; the Indians in the hollow saw him not.

While Diccon and I stared, our tormentors were upon us. They came a dozen or more at once, and we had no weapons. Two hung on my arms, while a third laid hold of my doublet to rend it from me. An arrow whistled over our heads and stuck into a tree behind us. The hands that clutched me dropped, and with a yell the busy throng turned their faces in the direction whence had come the arrow.

The Indian who had sent that dart before him was descending the bank. An instant's breathless hush while they stared at the solitary figure; then the dark forms bent forward for the rush straightened, and there arose a cry of recognition. "The son of Powhatan! The son of Powhatan!"

He came down the hillside to the level of the hollow, the authority of his look and gesture making way for him through the crowd that surged this way and that, and walked up to us where we stood, hemmed round but no longer in the clutch of our enemies.

"You were never more welcome, Nantaquas," I said to him, heartily.

Taking my hand in his, the chief turned to his frowning countrymen. "Men of the [v]Pamunkeys!" he cried, "this is Nantaquas' friend, and so the friend of all the tribes that called Powhatan 'father.' The fire is not for him nor for his servant; keep it for the [v]Monacans and for the dogs of the [v]Long House! The calumet is for the friend of Nantaquas, and the dance of the maidens, the n.o.blest buck and the best of the fish-weirs."

There was a surging forward of the Indians and a fierce murmur of dissent. The werowance, standing out from the throng, lifted his voice.

"There was a time," he cried, "when Nantaquas was the panther crouched upon the bough above the leader of the herd; now Nantaquas is a tame panther and rolls at the white men's feet! There was a time when the word of the son of Powhatan weighed more than the lives of many dogs such as these, but I know not why we should put out the fire at his command! He is war chief no longer, for [v]Opechancanough will have no tame panther to lead the tribes. Opechancanough is our head, and he kindleth a fire indeed. We will give to this man what fuel we choose, and to-night Nantaquas may look for his bones!"

He ended, and a great clamor arose. The Paspaheghs would have cast themselves upon us again but for a sudden action of the young chief, who had stood motionless, with raised hand and unmoved face, during the werowance's bitter speech. Now he flung up his hand, and in it was a bracelet of gold, carved and twisted like a coiled snake and set with a green stone. I had never seen the toy before, but evidently others had.

The excited voices fell, and the Indians, Pamunkeys and Paspaheghs alike, stood as though turned to stone.

Nantaquas smiled coldly. "This day hath Opechancanough made me war chief again. We have smoked the peace pipe together--my father's brother and I--in the starlight, sitting before his lodge, with the wide marshes and the river dark at our feet. Singing birds in the forest have been many; evil tales have they told; Opechancanough has stopped his ears against their false singing. My friends are his friends, my brother is his brother, my word is his word: witness the armlet that hath no like.

Opechancanough is at hand; he comes through the forest with his two hundred warriors. Will you, when you lie at his feet, have him ask you, 'Where is the friend of my friend, of my war chief?'"