The Chainbearer; Or, The Littlepage Manuscripts

  CHAPTER XVI.

  DANS. "Ye boys who pluck the flowers, and spoil the spring, Beware the secret snake that shoots a sting." --_Dryden's Eclogues._

  For the first half hour after I left Ursula Malbone's hut, I wasliterally unconscious of whither I was going, or of what I was about. Ican recollect nothing but having passed quite near to the Onondago, whoappeared desirous of speaking to me, but whom I avoided by a species ofinstinct rather than with any design. In fact, fatigue first brought mefairly to my senses. I had wandered miles and miles, plunging deeper anddeeper into the wilds of the forest, and this without any aim, or anyknowledge of even the direction in which I was going. Night soon came tocast its shadows on the earth, and my uncertain course was held amid thegloom of the hour, united to those of the woods. I had wearied myself byrapid walking over the uneven surface of the forest, and finally threwmyself on the trunk of a fallen tree, willing to take some repose.

  At first, I thought of nothing, felt for nothing but the unwelcomecircumstance that the faith of Dus was plighted to another. Had I fallenin love with Priscilla Bayard, such an announcement could not haveoccasioned the same surprise; for _she_ lived in the world, met with menof suitable educations, conditions, and opinions, and might be supposedto have been brought within the influence of the attentions andsympathies that are wont to awaken tenderness in the female breast. WithDus, it had been very different; she had gone from the forest to theschool, and returned from the school to the forest. It was true, thather brother, while a soldier, might have had some friend who admiredUrsula, and whose admiration awakened her youthful sympathies, but thiswas only a remote probability, and I was left burdened with a load ofdoubt as respected even the character and position of my rival.

  "At any rate, he must be poor," I said to myself, the moment I wascapable of reflecting coolly on the subject, "or he would never haveleft Dus in that hut, to pass her youth amid chainbearers and the otherrude beings of a frontier. If I cannot obtain her love, I may at leastcontribute to her happiness by using those means which a kind Providencehas bestowed, and enabling her to marry at once." For a little while Ifancied my own misery would be lessened, could I only see Dus marriedand happy. This feeling did not last long, however; though I trust thedesire to see her happy remained after I became keenly conscious itwould require much time to enable me to look on such a spectacle withcomposure. Nevertheless, the first tranquil moment, the first relievingsensation I experienced, was from the conviction I felt that Providencehad placed it in my power to cause Ursula and the man of her choice tobe united. This recollection gave me even a positive pleasure for alittle while, and I ruminated on the means of effecting it, literallyfor hours. I was still thinking of it, indeed, when I threw myself onthe fallen tree, where weariness caused me to fall into a troubledsleep, that lasted, with more or less of forgetfulness, several hours.The place I had chosen on the tree was among its branches, on which theleaves were still hanging, and it was not without its conveniences.

  When I awoke, it was daylight; or, such a daylight as penetrates theforest ere the sun has risen. At first I felt stiff and sore from thehardness of my bed; but, on changing my attitude and sitting up, thesesensations soon wore off, leaving me refreshed and calm. To my greatsurprise, however, I found that a small, light blanket, such as woodmenuse in summer, had been thrown over me, to the genial warmth of which Iwas probably indebted more than I then knew myself. This circumstancealarmed me at first, since it was obvious the blanket could not havecome there without hands; though a moment's reflection satisfied me thatthe throwing it over me, under the circumstances, must have been the actof a friend. I arose, however, to my feet, walked along the trunk of thetree until clear of its branches, and looked about me with a livelydesire to ascertain who this secret friend might be.

  The place was like any other in the solitude of the forest. There wasthe usual array of the trunks of stately trees, the leafy canopy, thedark shadows, the long vistas, the brown and broken surface of theearth, and the damp coolness of the boundless woods. A fine spring brokeout of a hill-side quite near me, and looking further, with theintention to approach and use its water, the mystery of the blanket wasat once explained. I saw the form of the Onondago, motionless as one ofthe trees which grew around him, leaning on his rifle, and seeminglygazing at some object that lay at his feet. In a minute I was at hisside, when I discovered that he was standing over a human skeleton! Thiswas a strange and startling object to meet in the depth of the woods!Man was of so little account, was so seldom seen in the virgin wilds ofAmerica, that one naturally felt more shocked at finding such a memorialof his presence in a place like that, than would have been the case hadhe stumbled on it amid peopled districts. As for the Indian, he gazed atthe bones so intently that he either did not hear, or he totallydisregarded my approach. I touched him with a finger before he evenlooked up. Glad of any excuse to avoid explanation of my own conduct, Ieagerly seized the occasion offered by a sight so unusual, to speak ofother things.

  "This has been a violent death, Sureflint," I said; "else the body wouldnot have been left unburied. The man has been killed in some quarrel ofthe red warriors."

  "_Was_ bury," answered the Indian, without manifesting the leastsurprise at my touch, or at the sound of my voice. "Dere, see grave?'Arth wash away, and bones come out. Nuttin' else. _Know_ he bury, forhelp bury, myself."

  "Do you, then, know anything of this unhappy man, and of the cause ofhis death?"

  "Sartain; know all 'bout him. Kill in ole French war. Fader here; andColonel Follock; Jaap, too. Huron kill 'em all; afterward we flog Huron.Yes, dat ole story now!"

  "I have heard something of this! This must have been the spot, then,where one Traverse, a surveyor, was set upon by the enemy, and wasslain, with his chainbearers and axe-men. My father and his friends_did_ find the bodies and bury them, after a fashion."

  "Sartain; just so; poor bury, d'ough, else he nebber come out of groun'.Dese bones of surveyor; know 'em well: hab one leg broke, once. Dere;you see mark."

  "Shall we dig a new grave, Susquesus, and bury the remains again?"

  "Best not, now, Chainbearer mean do dat. Be here by-'m-bye. Gotsomet'ing else t'ink of now. You own all land 'bout here, so no need bein hurry."

  "I suppose that my father and Colonel Follock do. These men were slainon the estate, while running out its great lots. I think I have heardthey had not near finished their work in this quarter of the patent,which was abandoned on account of the troubles of that day."

  "Just so; who own mill, here, den?"

  "There is no mill near us, Susquesus; _can_ be no mill, as not an acreof the Ridge property has ever been sold or leased."

  "May be so--mill d'ough--not far off, needer. Know mill when hear him.Saw talk loud."

  "You surely do not hear the saw of a mill now, my friend. I can hearnothing like one."

  "No hear, now; dat true. But hear him in night. Ear good in night--heargreat way off."

  "You are right enough there, Susquesus. And you fancied you heard thestroke of a saw, from this place, during the quiet and heavy air of thepast night?"

  "Sartain--know well; hear him plain enough. Isn't mile off. Out here;find him dere."

  This was still more startling than the discovery of the skeleton. I hada rough, general map of the patent in my pocket; and on examination, Ifound a mill-stream _was_ laid down on it, quite near the spot where westood. The appearance of the woods, and the formation of the land,moreover, favored the idea of the proximity of a mill. Pine was plenty,and the hills were beginning to swell into something resemblingmountains.

  Fasting, and the exercise I had taken, had given me a keen appetite; andin one sense at least, I was not sorry to believe that human habitationswere near. Did any persons dwell in that forest, they were squatters,but I did not feel much personal apprehension in encountering such men;especially when my only present object was to ask for food. The erectingof a mill denoted
a decided demonstration, it is true, and a littlereflection might have told me that its occupants would not be delightedby a sudden visit from the representative of the owners of the soil. Onthe other hand, however, the huts were long miles away, and neitherSureflint nor I had the smallest article of food about us. Both werehungry, though the Onondago professed indifference to the feeling, anunconcern I could not share with him, owing to habits of greaterself-indulgence. Then I had a strong wish to solve this mystery of themill, in addition to a feverish desire to awaken within me some newexcitement, as a counterpoise to that I still keenly felt in behalf ofmy disappointed love.

  Did I not so well understand the character of my companion, and thegreat accuracy of Indian senses, I might have hesitated about going onwhat seemed to be a fool's errand. But circumstances, that were then ofrecent origin, existed to give some countenance to the conjecture ofSureflint, if conjecture his precise knowledge could be called.Originally, New York claimed the Connecticut for a part of its easternboundary, but large bodies of settlers had crossed that stream comingmainly from the adjacent colony of New Hampshire, and these persons hadbecome formidable by their positions and numbers, some time anterior tothe revolution. During that struggle, these hardy mountaineers hadmanifested a spirit favorable to the colonies, in the main, though everyindication of an intention to settle their claims was met by adisposition to declare themselves neutral. In a word, they weresufficiently patriotic, if left to do as they pleased in the matter oftheir possessions, but not sufficiently so to submit to the regularadministration of the law. About the close of the war, the leaders ofthis self-created colony were more than suspected of coquetting with theEnglish authorities; not that they preferred the government of thecrown, or any other control, to their own, but because the times werefavorable to playing off their neutrality, in this manner, as a means ofsecuring themselves in the possession of lands to which their titles, inthe ordinary way, admitted of a good deal of dispute, to say the least.The difficulty was by no means disposed of by the peace of '83; but thecounties that were then equally known by the name of Vermont and that ofthe Hampshire Grants, were existing, in one sense, as a people apart,not yet acknowledging the power of the confederacy; nor did they comeinto the Union, under the constitution of 1789, until all around themhad done so, and the last spark of opposition to the new system had beenextinguished.

  It is a principle of moral, as well as of physical nature, that likeshould produce like. The right ever vindicates itself, in the process ofevents, and the sins of the fathers are visited upon the children, evento the third and fourth generations, in their melancholy consequences.It was impossible that an example of such a wrong could be successfullyexhibited on a large scale, without producing its deluded imitators, onanother that was better suited to the rapacity of individual longings.It is probable Vermont has sent out, among us, two squatters, andotherwise lawless intruders on our vacant lands, to one of any other ofthe adjoining States, counting all in proportion to their whole numbers.I knew that the county of Charlotte, as Washington was then called, waspeculiarly exposed to inroads of this nature; and did not feel muchsurprise at this prospect of meeting with some of the fruits of the seedthat had been so profusely scattered along the sides of the GreenMountains. Come what would, however, I was determined to ascertain thefacts, as soon as possible, with the double purpose of satisfying bothhunger and curiosity. As for the Indian, he was passive, yielding to mydecision altogether as a matter of course.

  "Since you think there is a mill, out here, west of us, Sureflint," Iobserved, after turning the matter over in my mind, "I will go andsearch for it, if you will bear me company. You think you can find it, Itrust, knowing the direction in which it stands?"

  "Sartain--find him easy 'nough. Find stream first--den find _mill_. Gotear--got eye--no hard to find him. Hear saw 'fore great while."

  I acquiesced, and made a sign for my companion to proceed. Susquesus wasa man of action, and not of words; and, in a minute he was leading theway toward a spot in the woods that looked as if it might contain thebed of the stream that was known to exist somewhere near by, since itwas laid down on the map.

  The sort of instinct possessed by the Trackless, enabled him soon tofind this little river. It was full of water, and had a gentle current;a fact that the Indian immediately interpreted into a sign that the millmust be above us, since the dam would have checked the course of thewater, had we been above _that_. Turning up stream, then, my companionmoved on, with the same silent industry as he would have trotted alongthe path that led to his own wigwam, had he been near it.

  We had not been on the banks of the stream five minutes, before theTrackless came to a dead halt; like one who had met an unexpectedobstacle. I was soon at his side, curious to know the motive of thisdelay.

  "Soon see mill, now," Susquesus said, in answer to an inquiry of mine."Board plenty--come down stream fast as want him."

  Sure enough, boards _were_ coming down, in the current of the river,much faster than one who was interested in the property would be apt towish; unless, indeed, he felt certain of obtaining his share of theamount of sales. These boards were neither in rafts, nor in cribs; butthey came singly, or two or three laid together, as if some arrangementhad been made to arrest them below, before they should reach any shoals,falls, or rapids. All this looked surprisingly like a regularmanufacturer of lumber, with a view to sales in the markets of the townson the Hudson. The little stream we were on was a tributary of thatnoble river, and, once in the latter, there would be no very materialphysical obstacle to conveying the product of our hills over thehabitable globe.

  "This really looks like trade, Sureflint," I said, as soon as certainthat my eyes did not deceive me. "Where there are boards made, mencannot be far off. Lumber, cut to order, does not _grow_ in thewilderness, though the material of which it is made, may."

  "Mill make him. Know'd mill, when hear him. Talk plain 'nough. Pale-facemake mill, but red man got ear to hear wit'!"

  This was all true enough; and it remained to ascertain what was to comeof it. I will acknowledge that, when I saw those tell-tale boards comefloating down the winding little river, I felt a thrilling of thenerves, as if assured the sight would be succeeded by some occurrence ofimportance to myself. I knew that these lawless lumbermen bore a badname in the land, and that they were generally regarded as a set ofplunderers, who did not hesitate to defend themselves and their habits,by such acts of violence and fraud as they fancied their circumstancesjustified. It is one evil of crime, where it penetrates masses, thatnumbers are enabled to give it a gloss, and a seeming merit, thatunsettle principles; rendering the false true, in the eyes of theignorant, and generally placing evil before good. This is one of themodes in which justice vindicates itself, under the providence of God;the wrongs committed by communities reacting on themselves, in the shapeof a demoralization that soon brings its own merited punishment.

  There was little time for speculation or conjecture, however; for,resuming our march, the next bend in the river brought into view a reachof the stream in which half a dozen men and lads were at work in thewater, placing the boards in piles of two or three, and setting them inthe current, at points favorable to their floating downward. Booms,connected with chains, kept the confused pile in a sort of basin beneathsome low cliffs, on the margin of which stood the expected saw-millitself. Here, then, was ocular proof that squatters were systematicallyat work, plundering the forests of which I was in charge, of their mostvaluable trees, and setting everything like law and right at defiance.The circumstances called for great decision, united with the utmostcircumspection. I had gone so far, that pride would not suffer me toretreat, had not a sense of duty to my father and Colonel Follock, cometo increase the determination to go on.

  The reader may feel some desire to know how far Dus mingled with mythoughts, all this time. She was never absolutely out of them, thoughthe repulse I had met in my affections gave an impetus to my feelingsthat rendered me more than usually disposed to e
nter on an adventure ofhazard and wildness. If I were naught to Ursula Malbone, it matteredlittle what else became of me. This was the sentiment that wasuppermost, and I have thought, ever since, that Susquesus had someinsight into the condition of my feelings, and understood the cause ofthe sort of desperation with which I was about to rush on danger. Wewere, as yet, quite concealed, ourselves; and the Indian profited by thecircumstance, to hold a council, before we trusted our persons in thehands of those who might feel it to be their interest to make away withus, in preference to permitting us ever to see our friends again. Indoing this, however, Sureflint was in no degree influenced by concernfor himself, but solely by a desire to act as became an experiencedwarrior, on a very difficult war-path.

  "S'pose you know," said Sureflint. "'Em no good men--Varmountsquatter--_you_ t'ink own land--_dey_ t'ink own land. Carry rifle and doas please. Best watch him."

  "I believe I understand you, Susquesus, and I shall be on my guard,accordingly. Did you ever see either of those men before?"

  "T'ink have. Must meet all sort of men, when he go up and down in 'ewood. Despret squatter, dat ole man, out yonder. Call himselfT'ousandacre--say he alway own t'ousand acre when he have mind to findhim."

  "The gentleman must be well provided with estates! A thousand acres willmake a very pretty homestead for a wanderer, especially when he has theprivilege of carrying it about with him, in his travels. You mean theman with gray hairs, I suppose--he who is half dressed in buckskin?"

  "Sartain; dat ole T'ousandacre--nebber want land--take him where he findhim. Born over by great salt lake, he say, and been travel towardsetting sun since a boy. Alway help himself--Hampshire Grant man, _dat_.But, major, why he no got right, well as you?"

  "Because our laws give him no right, while they give to the owner infee, a perfect right. It is one of the conditions of the society inwhich we live, that men shall respect each other's property, and this isnot his property, but mine--or rather, it is the property of my fatherand Colonel Follock."

  "Best not say so, den. No need tell ebberyt'ing. No your land, say noyour land. If he t'ink you spy, p'raps he shoot you, eh? Pale-face shootspy; red man t'ink spy good feller!"

  "Spies can be shot only in time of war; but, war or peace, you do notthink these men will push matters to extremities? They will be afraid ofthe law."

  "Law! What law to him? Nebber see law--don't go near law; don't knowhim."

  "Well, I shall run the risk, for hunger is quite as active just now ascuriosity and interest. There is no necessity, however, for yourexposing yourself, Sureflint; do you stay behind, and wait for theresult. If I am detained, you can carry the news to Chainbearer, whowill know where to seek me. Stay you here, and let me go onalone--adieu."

  Sureflint was not to be dropped in this manner. He _said_ nothing, butthe moment I began to move, he stepped quietly into his accustomedplace, in advance, and led the way toward the party of squatters. Therewere four of these men at work in the river, in addition to two stoutlads and the old leader, who, as I afterward ascertained, was verygenerally known by the _sobriquet_ of Thousandacres. The last remainedon dry land, doubtless imagining that his years, and his long servicesin the cause of lawlessness and social disorganization, entitled him tothis small advantage. The evil one has his privileges, as well as thepublic.

  The first intimation our hosts received of this unexpected visit, camefrom the cracking of a dried stick on which I had trodden. The Indianwas not quicker to interpret and observe that well-known sound, than theold squatter, who turned his head like thought, and at once saw theOnondago within a rod of the spot where he himself was standing. I wasclose on the Indian's heels. At first, neither surprise nor uneasinesswas apparent in the countenance of Thousandacres. He knew the Trackless,as he called Susquesus, and, though this was the first visit of theIndian, at that particular "location," they had often met in a similarmanner before, and invariably with as little preliminary notice. So farfrom anything unpleasant appearing in the countenance of the squatter,therefore, Susquesus was greeted with a smile, in which a certainleering expression of cunning was blended with that of welcome.

  "So its only you, Trackless," exclaimed Thousand Acres, orThousandacres, as I shall in future spell the name--"I didn't know butit might be a sheriff. Sitch critturs do get out into the woods,sometimes, you know; though they don't always get back ag'in. How comeyou to find us out, in this cunning spot, Onondago!"

  "Hear mill, in night. Saw got loud tongue. Hungry; so come get somet'ingto eat."

  "Waal, you've done wisely, in that partic'lar, for we never have beenbetter off for vi't'als. Pigeons is as plenty as land, and the lawhasn't got to that pass yet, as to forbid a body from taking pigeons,even though it be in another man's stubble. I must keep that saw bettergreased, nights; though, I s'p'ose, a'ter all, 't was the cut of theteeth you heard, and not the rubbing of the plate?"

  "Hear him all--saw got loud voice, tell you."

  "Yes, there's natur' in that. Come, we'll take this path, up to thehouse, and see what Miss Thousandacres can do for you. Breakfast must beready, by this time; and you, and your fri'nd, behind you, there, iswilcome to what we have, sitch as it is. Now, as we go along," continuedthe squatter, leading the way up the path he had mentioned--"now, as wego along, you can tell me the news, Trackless. This is a desp'rate quietspot; and all the tidings we get is brought back by the b'ys, when theycome up stream, from floating boards down into the river. A desp'ratesight have we got on hand, and I hope to hear that matters be going onso well, in Albany, that boards will bring suthin', soon. It's high timehonest labor met with its reward."

  "Don't know--nebber sell board," answered the Indian--"nebber buy him.Don't care for board. Powder cheap, now 'e war-path shut up. Dat good,s'pose you t'ink."

  "Waal, Trackless, I kear more for boards than for powder, I must own;though powder's useful, too. Yes, yes; a useful thing is powder, in itsway. Venison and bear's meat are both healthy, cheap, food: and I _have_eaten catamount. Powder can be used in many ways. Who is your fri'nd,Trackless?"

  "_Ole_ young frien'--know his fader. Live in wood now, like us thissummer. Shoot deer like hunter."

  "He's wilcome--he's heartily wilcome! All's wilcome to these parts, butthe landlord. You know me, Trackless--you're well acquainted with oldThousandacres; and few words is best, among fri'nds of long standing.But, tell me, Onondago, have you seen anything of the Chainbearer, andhis party of lawless surveyors, in the woods, this summer? The b'ysbrought up an account of his being at work, somewhere near by, thisseason, and that he's at his old tricks, ag'in!"

  "Sartain, see him. Ole frien', too, Chainbearer. Live wit' him, aforeold French war--_like_ to live with him, when can. Good man,Chainbearer, tell you, Thousandacres. What trick he do, eh?"

  The Indian spoke a little sternly, for he loved Andries too well to hearhim disrespectfully named, without feeling some sort of resentment.These men, however, were too much accustomed to plain dealing in theirordinary discourse, to take serious offence at trifles; and the amicablesunshine of the dialogue received no serious interruption from thispassing cloud.

  "What trick does Chainbearer do, Trackless," answered the squatter--"amortal sight of tricks, with them plaguy chains of his'n! If therewarn't no chains and chainbearers, there could be no surveyors; and, ifthere warn't no surveyors, there could be no boundaries to farms but therifle; which is the best law-maker, too, that man ever invented. TheIndians want no surveyors, Trackless?"

  "S'pose he don't. It _be_ bad to measure land, will own," answered theconscientious Susquesus, who would not deny his own principles, evenwhile he despised and condemned the man who now asserted them. "Nebbersee anyt'ing good in measurin' land."

  "Ay, I know'd you was of the true Injin kidney!" exclaimedThousandacres, exultingly, "and that's it which makes sich fri'nds of ussquatters and you redskins. But Chainbearer is at work hard by, is he,Trackless?"

  "Sartain. He measure General Littlepage farm out. Who _your_ landlord,eh?"

&
nbsp; "Waal, I do s'pose it's this same Littlepage, and a desp'rate rogue allagree in callin' him."

  I started at hearing my honored and honorable father thus alluded to,and felt a strong disposition to resent the injury; though a glance fromthe Indian's eye cautioned me on the subject. I was then young, and hadyet to learn that men were seldom wronged without being calumniated. Inow know that this practice of circulating false reports of landlords,most especially in relation to their titles, is very general, taking itsrise in the hostile positions that adventurers are constantly assumingon their estates, in a country as unsettled and migratory as our own,aided by the common and vulgar passion of envy. Let a man travel throughNew York, even at this day, and lend his ear to the language of thediscontented tavern-brawlers, and he would hardly believe there was sucha thing as a good title to an estate of any magnitude within itsborders, or a bad one to the farm of any occupant in possession. Thereis among us a set of declaimers, who come from a state of society inwhich little distinction exists in either fortunes or social conditions,and who are incapable of even seeing, much less of appreciating the vastdifferences that are created by habits, opinions, and education, but whoreduce all moral discrepancies to dollars and cents. These meninvariably quarrel with all above them, and, with them, to quarrel is tocaluminate. Leaguing with the disaffected, of whom there always must besome, especially when men are compelled to pay their debts, one of theirfirst acts is to assail the title of the landlord, when there happens tobe one in their neighborhood, by lying and slandering. There seems to beno exception to the rule, the practice being resorted to against theoldest as well as against the most recently granted estates among us.The lie only varies in particulars; it is equally used against thetitles of the old families of Van Rensselaer, Livingston, Beekman, VanCortlandt, De Lancey, Schuyler, and others, as against the hundred newnames that have sprung up in what is called the western counties, sincethe revolution. It is the lie of the Father of Lies, who varies it tosuit circumstances and believers. "A desp'rate rogue," all agree incalling the man who owns land that they desire to possess themselves,without being put to the unpleasant trouble of purchasing and paying forit.

  I so far commanded myself, however, as to make no retort for theinjustice done my upright, beloved, and noble-minded father, but lefthis defence to the friendly feelings and sterling honesty of Sureflint.

  "Not so," answered the Indian sternly. "Big lie--forked tongue tell_dat_--know gen'ral--sarve wid him--_know_ him. Good warrior--honestman--dat _lie_. Tell him so to face."

  "Waal--wa-a-l--I don't know," drawled out Mr. Thousandacres: how thoserascals will "wa-a-l," and "I don't know," when they are cornered in oneof their traducing tales, and are met face to face, as the Indian nowmet the squatter! "Wa-a-l, wa-a-l, I don't know, and only repeat what Ihave heern say. But here we be at the cabin, Trackless; and I see by thesmoke that old Prudence and her gals has been actyve this morning, andwe shall get suthin' comfortable for the stomach."

  Hereupon, Mr. Thousandacres stopped at a convenient place by the side ofthe stream, and commenced washing his face and hands; an operation thatwas now performed for the first time that day.