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Read books online » Fiction » The Knight Of The Golden Melice by John Turvill Adams (web based ebook reader txt) 📖

Book online «The Knight Of The Golden Melice by John Turvill Adams (web based ebook reader txt) 📖». Author John Turvill Adams



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Light Which Could No Longer Be Mistaken, And All Were

Satisfied That It Must Proceed From The Habitation Of The Knight. The

Majority Of The Men Adopted, Without Reflection, The Idea Thrown Out

By The Wily Assistant, But There Were Others Who Were Unable To

Satisfy Themselves As Easily.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Xxvii.

 

 

 

  When The King Of Tars Saw That Sight,

  Wood He Was For Wrath Aplight:

        In Hand He Hent A Spear,

  And To The Soudan He Rode Full Right;

  With A Dunt Of Much Might,

        Adown He Gan Him Bear.

  

 

  Old English Metrical Romance.

 

  

 

Only The Accidental Absence Of The Knight Saved Him From The Indignity

To Which His Household Was Subjected. Well Were The Measures Of His

Enemies Taken, And The Time Chosen, For It Was Reasonable To Suppose,

That After So Long A Journey, He Would Certainly Be Found At His

Domicile The First Night. His Erratic Habits Were Well Known, And It

Was This Knowledge Which Induced The Choice Of The Time For The

Arrest, And Indeed Had Assisted To Deepen Suspicions, In A Suspicious

Community, Against Him. It Would Not Have Suited The Purposes Of

Spikeman To Wait, And Thus Afford The Knight An Opportunity To Present

Himself In Town. He Chose To Bring In Sir Christopher As A Criminal,

Knowing That Having Committed His Associates Thus Far, To An Act Of

Violence, They Would Not Be Likely To Rest Until They Had Expelled Sir

Christopher From The Colony.

 

  

At The Time Spikeman Was Rifling His House, And Injuriously Treating

Its Inmates, The Knight, Unsuspicious Of Harm, Was Lying In The Wigwam

Of Sassacus, Which Was Distant But A Mile Or Two From His Own

Residence. Lying On His Side, With His Head Supported On One Hand By

The Elbow Resting On The Ground, He Was Addressing The Sagamore, Who,

Seated In Indian Fashion, With The Soothing Pipe At His Lips, Was

Listening To His Discourse. A Flickering Fire Sent Up Now And Then A

Bright Flame, By Means Of Which The Two Became Ever And Anon More

Distinctly Discernible To Each Other, While In The Intervals, There

Was Only Light Enough To Distinguish The Outlines Of Their Persons.

Even Through The Studied Apathy Of The Pequot, It Was Obvious That The

Subject Possessed Considerable Interest For Him, For Occasionally He

Would Remove His Pipe From His Mouth, And Gaze Fixedly On The Ground,

As If Lost In Profound Thought.

 

  

"Wonderful, O Chief," He Said, After The Knight Had Ceased Speaking,

"Are The Things Which Thou Hast Told, And I Believe, Because The White

Men Are Very Strange, And I Have Never Caught Thee In A Lie. Truly, As

Thou Sayest, Are The Red Men Children, And The White Men Exceed Them

In Wisdom, Even As The Beaver The Wolf. The Wise Beaver Is Warm In His

Lodge, When The Wolf Howls For Hunger And Cold In The Forest. The

White Man Is The Beaver, And The Red Man The Wolf. The Great Spirit

Made Them So, For So It Pleased Him, And So They Must Remain."

 

  

"Nay," Said The Knight. "There Was A Time When The White Race Was Like

Thine Own, Without That Knowledge Which Makes Them So Powerful."

 

  

"And Can The Chief Say Why The Great Spirit Gave Owanux The Wisdom

Which He Denied To Us?"

  

 

"That Is A Question I Cannot Answer, Any More Than Why Thy Skin Is Red

And Mine White; But The Christian Religion Was The Means Whereby The

Change Was Effected."

 

  

"There Is But One Great Spirit, Who Made All Things," Said Sassacus,

Solemnly, "And We Worship Him As Well As The White Men. Lightnings Are

The Glances Of His Eyes; Thunder Is His Voice; The Sun Is The Fire

Before His Lodge, Which He Extinguishes When He Sleeps, And The Moon

And Stars Are The Sparks Which Fly Up Into The Air When It Goes Out."

 

 

 "Thou Hast Indeed, In Some Sort, A Religion, For He Hath Not Left Even

The Most Barbarous Nations Without Some Knowledge Of Himself, Howbeit

It Is Not Unto Wisdom. But It Is Only With His True Religion That He

Has Connected That Acquaintance With Himself, Which Makes Men To

Advance In All That Is Worthy To Be Known Here, And Happy Hereafter."

 

  

"Our Wise Men Say," Replied Sassacus, "That For The Spirits Of Brave

And Just Warriors There Are Happy Hunting Grounds, Far Away Towards

The Setting Sun, Which The Indian Travels To, Over The White Path In

The Middle Of The Sky, Where Deer, And Elk, And Bears Never Fail, And

Where The Hunter Is Never Tired, Nor Very Hungry."

  

 

"Alas!" Said The Knight; "These Are But Figments Of The

Imagination--Fond Dreams As Unsubstantial As Morning Mist, And

Deceitful As The Wandering Fire, Which Lures The Ignorant Traveller

Into The Morass."

  

 

"O, Wise Chief," Said Sassacus, "Our Tribes Have Also Their

Traditions, And I Know Not Why They May Not Be As True As Thine. We Do

Not Think, As Your Powahs Teach, That Our Traditions Come From

Hobbamocki, While Yours All Proceed From The Master Of Life."

 

  

"Hobbamocki Is Thy Name For The Evil Spirit?"

  

 

"My Brother Has Said It. Would He Like To Know How He Was Created?"

 

 

 "I Listen," Said The Knight.

 

 

"A Long, Long Time Ago," Said Sassacus, "The Master Of Life, Kiehtan,

Went To A Large Flat Island, In Order To Complete His Work Of

Creation. He There Created A Multitude Of Animals, Some Of Which Were

So Large That He Was Unable To Control Them. It Is Said That Remains

Of Gigantic Beasts Are Still To Be Found Upon The Island, Which Were

Never Finished. It Was Out Of Clay That Kiehtan Formed The Beasts,

While The Inferior Manitos Looked On And Rejoiced In His Labor. He

Made In The Side Of Each Animal An Opening, Whereinto He Crept, And So

Warmed It Into Life. It The Animals Pleased Him He Permitted Them To

Swim To The Great Pasture Land, And To Fill The Woods; If They Pleased

Him Not, He First Withdrew The Life, And Then Turned Them Into Clay

Again. Once He Made So Large A Beast That He Was Afraid To Give Him

Life. There Were Also Other Smaller, To Whom He Gave Not Life, Because

He Considered Them Not Useful. Once He Made A Creature, In The Form Of

A Man, Which He Also Rejected, But He Forgot To Take The Life Away

From Him, And This Is The Evil Spirit, Hobbamocki."

  

 

"And Thou Believest This Fable, As Wild As Ever Sprung From The

Unbridled License Of An Oriental Story-Teller?"

 

  

"Sassacus Believes As The Wise Men Of His Nation Believed, When He Was

A Little Pappoose, And As Their Fathers Believed, When They Were

Papooses, And As His People Have Always Believed, For More Summers

Than There Are Stars In The Sky. But Do Not The White Men Believe In

Hobbamocki?"

 

 

 "They Do, Though They Give Him A Different Name," Answered The Knight.

"He Was A Great Spirit, Who Was Expelled From Heaven, Or The Happy

Hunting Grounds, Because Of His Wickedness."

  

 

"Was He Not Very Happy There, And Had All That He Wanted?" Inquired

The Pequot.

 

 

 

"He Was Happy And Preeminent Above All Other Manitos In Glory And

Power."

  

 

"How Then Became He Wicked?" 

 

 

"That Is A Question Which Our Wise Men Have Never Been Able To Answer.

But He Envied The Greatness Of The Master Of Life, And Desired To

Occupy His Place."

  

 

"Can Your Hobbamocki Be In Two Places At Once?"

 

  

"No. Being A Created Spirit, He Is Limited."

 

  

"It Cannot Be, Then, That He Was Such A Fool," Said The Chief,

Decisively. "Behold! The Master Of Life Is Every Where! He Is Like The

Air And The Light. Manitos Are Very Little Things Beside Him, And All

Together Cannot Fill His Place. Your Powahs Have Deceived You, And

Told A Foolish Story Of Their Own Invention. No. Hobbamocki Was Vexed

Because The Great Spirit Did Not Like Him, And For That Reason Tries

To Revenge Himself, By Troubling Those Whom The Great Spirit Loves."

  

 

"At Least," Said The Knight, "Our Two Traditions Agree In This--That

There Is An Evil Spirit, Who Injures And Leads Men Into Wickedness,

And Therein Do Thy Legends Confirm The Truth Of The Catholic

Religion."

 

  "Do The People At Shawmut, Under Sagamore Winthrop, Believe In All

Things, As My Brother?"

 

 

 

"Nay. They Are Heretics, And Given Over To Believe A Lie--From Whom

This Land Shall Be Taken, And Bestowed As An Heritage On Others, Who

Shall Be The Indians' Friends, And They Shall All Live Together."

 

 

 "Listen! My Brother Has Spoken Of This Before, And Sassacus Has

Thought Much About It. It Seems To Me That When The Great Spirit Spoke

To The White Men, They Could Not Understand His Words, But His Voice

Was To Them Like The Sighing Of The Wind Among The Trees, Or The

Dashing Of The Green Water On The Shore, For They Cannot Agree About

Their Religion. But The Ears Of The Indians Were Sharper, And They All

Understood Alike, And Therefore They Do Not Differ About What The

Master Of Life Said, And They Also Know Better Concerning Hobbamocki.

Has Not My Brother Told Me That The White Men Fight And Kill One

Another About Their Religion?"

  

 

"Alas! It Is Too True," Replied Sir Christopher.

 

  

"Indians Never Do So. Let Us Do A Great Thing," Added Sassacus, His

Face Suddenly Kindling, As With The Inspiration Of A Magnificent

Thought--"We Will Teach The English Our Religion, Which We Never Fight

About, Because We Know It To Be True, And The English Shall Teach Us

How To Build Ships, And Make Guns And Powder; And, Together, We Will

Drive The Taranteens Into The Salt Lake."

 

  

"It Is In Vain," Said The Knight To Himself, On Hearing This

Extraordinary Proposition. "He Doth, Ever In His Childlike Simplicity,

Say Something To Confound Me. His Untutored Mind Is Yet Incapable Of

Receiving The Mysteries Of Our Holy Religion, But, In Lieu Thereof,

Perpetually Runs After The Practical And Immediate Advantages Of

Powder And Guns. Direct The Conversation As I May, This Target Doth It

Hit At Last."

 

  

At This Moment An Indian Stepped Into The Lodge, And, Uttering The

Word "Fire!" Accompanied By A Gesture Of The Arm, Retired.

 

  

The Knight And Sassacus Sprung Up, And, Looking In The Direction

Indicated, Beheld The Heavens All Aglow With The Conflagration.

 

  

"It Is My Lodge!" Exclaimed Sir Christopher. "I Will Hasten Thither

Instantly."

 

 

 

"Come With Us, Towanquattick," Said The Chief, Calling To The Indian,

And The Three At Once Directed Their Course Toward The Dwelling Of The

Knight.

 

 

With All Their Haste, They Did Not Reach It Until The Fire Had Made

Such Progress That It Was Impossible To Suppress It, Or Even Save

Anything From The Building. The Flames Were Pouring Out In Billows

From The Doors And Windows, And A Moment After Their Arrival The Roof

Fell In. They Approached As Near As The Heat Would Permit, But Were

Unable To Distinguish Anything In The Interior, Nor Was A Sound To Be

Heard, Save That Of The Rushing Flames And Falling Timbers. No One Was

Present, Except The Three--The Natives Who Lived Near Having Retired

Deeper Into The Wood On The First Alarm. Leaning On His Gun, The

Knight Gazed Sadly On The Burning Ruin, Reflecting On What Had

Probably Become Of Its Former Occupants. If He Had Any Doubts, They

Were Soon Dissipated By Sassacus, Whose Attention, With That Of The

Other Indian, Had Been Attracted By Marks Upon The Ground Which Had

Escaped The Notice Of Sir Christopher. These Plainly Revealed To Them

By The Light Of The Fire, The Two, Like Well-Bred Hounds, Had Been

Examining In Every Direction, Until, Gathering Together The Various

Tracks Into One Trail, They Had Followed It Into The Wood. Returning

To The Knight, And Pointing Out The Traces, The Chief Said:

 

  

"Many Owanux Have Been Here, And All Are Gone To Shawmut."

 

 

 "I Surmised As Much," Said Sir Christopher, Partly To Himself. "We

Will Follow, Sagamore, And Assure Ourselves With Our Own Eyes."

 

  

No Time Was Lost In Lamentation But The Three Instantly Started After

The Band.

 

  

Sir Christopher Could See The Trail Until It Reached The Wood; But

Here, Notwithstanding His Experience In Woodcraft, He Frequently Lost

All Trace Of It, Though To The Indians It Seemed As Plain As A Beaten

Highway. Never Hesitating, Even In The Obscurest Recesses Of The

Forest Where Penetrated No Ray Of A Star, With Rapid Steps They

Pursued Their Way.

 

 

 eanwhile, The Party Of Soldiers, Conscious Of Their Strength, And

Encumbered With Their Prisoners, Though Pushing On At First At A Good

Pace, Had Of Late Been Proceeding More Leisurely. Even Lieutenant

Venn, Satisfied That They Would Be Able Without Haste To Reach Their

Destination Before Daylight, Ceased To Hurry. As They Approached

Nearer The Village, Their Vigilance Diminished--The Men Talked Loud

And Jested With One Another, And It Was Obvious That No Apprehensions

Of Danger Were Entertained.

 

 

 This State Of Things Had Not Been Unnoticed By Philip, Who Had Been

Meditating Over The Question, Whether It Were Not Better

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