Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 138 — page 9: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

in the hour of need? where was his strong heart at the moment of danger? Far, far away, and the poor creature was doomed to fall, helpless and unaided! Assowaum gnashed his teeth in impotent rage, as if this thought darted like a keen blade through his burning brain. But then the cool, reflecting calmness of the Indian prevailed. Again he searched in every corner, every recess of the narrow apartment; then left the hut, and stepping into the open air, with a lighted pine-knot in his band, he examined every bush, every patch of moss, but in vain! the pouring rain had washed every track away. Between the river and the hut, however, which was now reached by the rising flood, his attention was attracted to some birch-treea, from a portion of the branches of which the leaves seemed to have been violently stripped; but, as we have said, the mounting stream bad effaced every track beneath its fury, and, disappointed in_ his search, the Indian returned gloomily to the but. He now prepared the death-couch for his murdered wife. Hespread out his blanket, and laid her stiffened limbs thereon; he brought water from the stream, and washed her blood stained face and hair; then placed her own blanket beneath ber head, that she might rest softly and sweetly as in former, happier times; and tried to fold her hands over that heart which bad loved him so truly and so warmly. The right hand, however, was fast locked in a convulsive grasp, and he was about to desist from the attempt to force back those fingers that had grown rigid in death, when he felt a bard substance within them; he renewed his efforts, and took from their clasp a black horn button, which she had clutched and retained in the death-struggle. But of what use was such a token? What clew could it give to the discovery of the mur- derer? Assowaum shook his head darkly; thrust the button, however, into the ball- pouch at his side; and seated himself once more sadly at his wife’s feet, as if she slept merely, and he were watching over her slumbers. Thus he sat motionless for many hours. The fire sunk together, gleamed up awhile fitfully at intervals, and then died away; thick dark- ness enveloped the narrow hut; without, in the forest, the wolves retreated timidly from the presence of a human being; not a sound interrupted the solemn stillness, except the dashing and roaring of the river; even the owl had left the fearful spot. All was hushed; and still that. dark form sat cowering before the corpse, until the morning wind shook the dew from the bushes—until a bright streak of light in the east proclaimed the approaching day, and the birds of night, with loud and lamentable tones, bade adieu to the departing gloom, Voices were now heard without the hut; and Brown, followed by Wilson, entered the quiet chamber of mourning, The Indian, however, did not seem to heed them; his eye, which he had not for an instant turned from Alapaha’s face, still hung upon her dear features; and when his friend slightly touched his shoulder, he started up as if awaking from a deep sleep. ‘Come, Assowaum,” said Brown, reaching him his hand, ‘shake off this grief, and let us to our tasks—first. to bury your wife, and then to avenge her!” The Indian had listened unmoved to the white man’s words, until the last fell upon his ear. ‘‘ Avenge her!” he cried, leaping up, and his eyes flashed fire; ‘‘yes, avenge her! Come, my brother! the sight of this dead body un- mans me—come!” With these words, he took the bloody tomahawk, placed it in bis belt, and then with calm and steadfast step he aided the two men to trausport the body to the frail bark, which, held by its cable of vines, floated pans the waves that broke over the roots of et ‘Wilson now offered him some refreshment that be had brougbt with him, but he motioned it away, took silently his accustomed place in the canoe, and guided it—impelled as it was by the vigorous arms of the two men—with the rapidity of lightning over the boiling flood, safely and calmly down the stream toward Harper’s dwelling, which lay about ten miles distant. CHAPTER V. Harrer’s hut stood scarcely a hundred paces from the bank of the La Fave, overshadowed by young and slender hickory and mulberry | around in wild confusion, The Border Bandits. | trees. Brown and himself had but recently begun to till the land near the house, and on the north side of the dwelling the felled and partly chopped, partly-untouched trunks, lay In the house itself, | on the contrary, various convenient arrange- ments might be observed, which were rarely to be found in the dwellings of the common farmers. Not only was there an opening made for a small window, but this was actually pro- vided with a sash, set with genuine glass panes; and notwithstanding the proximity of the river, a well had been dug, which afforded a convenient supply of cool and healthy water, In addition to this, there was a plentifully-filled corn-crib; so that the occupants, even though they had as yet raised no grain themselves, were far from being destitute of a good supply. Chickens and ducks, nay, a brood of proud turkeys, crowded, strutting and _ clucking, around the door, and seemed anxiously waiting for their food; while two strong bay horses, evidently raised at the North, stood at the empty trough, snuffing and whinnying, as if impatient and dissatisfied at not finding the usual quantity of corn in the accustomed place. The men who were assembled at Mullins’s on the preceding evening, had just ridden up to the open space before the house; and the silent, gloomy solitude of the spot seemed to strike all, and Roberts’ in particular, as being singu- lar and ominous. He spurred to the open door, dismounted, entered, and found his worst fears confirmed. Upon a hard, rude couch, the coverlet of which he had thrown back in the glow of fever, lay the once so cheerful and joyous man, the once so welcome companion, alone and helpless, with not a soul near to reach him a cup of water to cool bis burning lips. Roberts and Barker, deeply moved, stepped to the bedside of the sufferer, and took his hand. Harper did not recognize them, how- ever, but spoke in wild, disordered words of hunts and marches, of his brother who loved the betrothed of another, and of his nephew, who had slain his antagonist, and now appear- ed before him, covered with his victim’s blood, At this moment, Rawson, who had regained all his firmness and calmness, entered the low chamber, and stepped to the bedside of the in- valid, who raised himself half-erect at his ap- proach, and cried:— “Away! away!—wash those hands! wipe the blade—it might betray thee! Ha! thy bullet struck home—what a hole it made!--the wound will be hard to heal--right through the brain!” . Rawson turned pale, and stepped backward with a shudder. Koberts, however, witbout turning his eyes from the sick man’s face, said, in a whisper: “ He is dreaming of his nephew, He thinks him guilty, and fears for his life,” ‘Wild fantasies!” replied the preacher, in a ‘low voice, as, hastily collecting himself, he bent down to the sufferer, ) ‘*Mr. Harper,” he then continued, in a kind tone, as he placed his cold fingers upon the sick man’s burning brow, “ collect yourself— friends are near you—” but, before he had finished the words, the invalid started from his couch with a ery of pain:— ‘“Water! water!” he exclaimed. ‘The fiend stretches out his claws after me!—it was not I who killed him—no—yes—it was I!— seize--me!—I fired the shot!” With these words he sunk back senseless upon his bed. ‘He is very sick,” said Barker, in a tone of sympathy. ‘Stay with him, while I bring him a cup of water to quench his thirst. The cattle, too, must be fed; I can not bear to see the beasts run around so hungry and forlorn.” Without saying more, Barker departed to do as he said; and, before the canoe had reached the landing with its sad freight, he had, with Roberts’s aid, cooled the temples of the invalid with wet cloths, arranged his bed, prepared him a refreshing draught, attended to the cat- tle, swept the house and set it in order, and “fixed everything in comfortable and human fashion,” as he said. Rawson, in the ‘mean while sat with Roberts, near the sufferer’s bed, and reached him what he desired, until after a protracted delirium, he fell into a slumber in- duced rather by exhaustion than mental com- posure. Soon after, the canoe arrived; and Brown and Wilson, followed by the Indian, carried the body up the bank, and laid it near the moss-covered roots oi a gigantic pine. ‘* Where shal) we dig the grave?’ asked Mul- lins, approaching Brown; but Assowaum Se grasped the speaker’s hand in silence, led bir about a hundred paces from the house to am old Indian mound which stood close to bis: wigwam, a structure covered with undressed skins, and said: ‘* Let the flower of the prairies repose near the children of the Natchez, Hate and discord in old times kindled their hearts against their red brothers of the South. The Great Spirit. has punished them. Let their ashes rest peace- fully together.” The men now proceeded to dig up the ground at the described spot, and were then about to place the body in a rude coffin which. they had made during the night, and brought. with them, The Indian, however, prevented. them. He entered his wigwam, and returned with a number of neatly-dressed skins, wrapped them carefully about the lifeless form of the deceased, and then, aided by Brown, laid bis. young wife in her coffin. Mullins now ap-. proached, with a hammer and nails in his. band, to fasten down the lid, but this also the Indian refused to permit. Rawson now stepped to the open grave, and Assowaum had already made a movement as if to prevent the performance of the Christian rites of burial, when his glance fell upon the Bible which the latter held in his hand, and which the deceased had venerated with such devotion, He hid his face in his hands, kneeled down beside the grave, and now, for the first. time, his long-concealed and manfully-sup- pressed sorrow broke forth, his breast heaved convulsively, aud the tears streamed in clear, big drops between his dark fingers, and sunk upon the upturned earth, which in a few mo- ments would cover the being for whom he had forsaken friends and tribe, home and parents, and bad become a solitary wanderer among a foreign people. In the mean while the preacber, in Jow and faltering tones, had begun his funeral address over the remains of the woman murdered by his own hand. He praised her virtue and piety; he extolled the zeal with which she had clung fast to the true God, and placed ber hopes in Him; he spoke of her industry, her love to ber husband and chief; and then implored that Heaven, to which he durst not lift bis timid, guilty glance, for “mercy for the deceased, and—forgiveness for the hand which had shed, perbaps in anger, innocent blood,” But, before he had concluded his prayer, a strange, wild fire seemed to dart through the Indian’s frame. He slowly removed his hands: from bis eyes, and as bis steadfast and piercing glance met that of the preacher, and as the latter, shudd>ring in secret at the dark, flash- ing eye of the warrior, paused and was silent, the chief raised bis head, grasped the toma- hawk which he wore at his belt, and extending: his left arm toward the preacher, he said, in a loud and echoing voice: ** Alapaha is dead—hber spirit has gone to the happy fields of the white man; ber beart had turned from the Great Spirit, whose ven- geance has now reached her. But why does. the pale man pray to his God that he would show mercy to the woman who torgot all, to belong only to him—who forsook the faith of her people, and prayed to the God of the whites? She needs no mercy, The pale man has often told me that bis God was just, snd Assowaum’s wife need not ask for mercy, even from Him, when she can demand justice. If the God of the whites is just, he cannot refuse: to reward the unhappy creature who, for his sake, forgot all that was dear and sacred to her.” Rawson would have interrupted him, but the glance of the savage, which was stcadfastly fixed upon him, restrained him; and Assowaum continued in a still louder and more impressive tone: ; ‘‘But the pale man’s lips implore forgiveness for the murderer. He bas dipped his hand in the pure blood of the flower of the Bh ee Who is there here that did not know and did not love her? No! no forgiveness! A curse light upon the wretch! Assowaum will find him; his life has now but one aim—to punish the murderer. Let white or red earth cover Assowaum afterward, the Great Spirit will welcome him with open arms and a smiling : face.” Rawson, who had been compelled to summon up all his self-control, to ehdure the warrior’s dark and threatening glance, now raised his hands aloft in silence, as if absorbed in prayer. Then, after a long and solemn pause, he be- gan: <SiGO ~ Conniclooo