The Chainbearer; Or, The Littlepage Manuscripts
CHAPTER XX.
"I mark'd his desultory pace, His gestures strange, and varying face, With many a muttered sound; And ah! too late, aghast, I view'd The reeking blade, the hand imbru'd: He fell, and groaning grasp'd in agony the ground." --WARTON.
In this manner passed that long and weary day. I could and did takeexercise, by walking to and fro in my prison; but the Indian seldomstirred from the moment he entered. As for the squatter himself, he cameno more near the storehouse, though I saw him, two or three times in thecourse of the day, in private conference with his elder sons, mostprobably consulting on my case. At such moments, their manner wasserious, and there were instants when I fancied it menacing.
Provision was made for our comfort by throwing a sufficient number ofbundles of straw into the prison, and my fellow-captive and myself hadeach a sufficiently comfortable bed. A soldier was not to be frightenedat sleeping on straw, moreover; and as for Susquesus, he asked for nomore than room to stretch himself, though it were even on a rock. AnIndian loves his ease, and takes it when it comes in his way; but it isreally amazing to what an extent his powers of endurance go, when itbecomes necessary for him to exert them.
In the early part of the night I slept profoundly, as I believe did theIndian. I must acknowledge that an uncomfortable distrust existed in mymind, that had some slight effect in keeping me from slumbering, thoughfatigue soon overcame the apprehensions such a feeling would be likelyto awaken. I did not know but Thousandacres and his sons might take itinto their heads to make away with the Indian and myself under cover ofthe darkness, as the most effectual means of protecting themselvesagainst the consequences of their past depredations, and of securing thepossession of those that they had projected for the future. We werecompletely in their power, and, so far as the squatter knew, the secretof our visit would die with us, the knowledge of those of his own fleshand blood possessed on the subject excepted. Notwithstanding thesethoughts crossed my mind, and did give me some little uneasiness, theywere not sufficiently active or sufficiently prominent to prevent mefrom slumbering, after I had fairly fallen asleep, without awaking once,until it was three o'clock, or within an hour of the approach of day.
I am not certain that any external cause aroused me from my slumbers.But I well remember that I lay there on my straw, meditating for sometime, half asleep and half awake, until I fancied I heard the musicalvoice of Dus, murmuring in my ear my own name. This illusion lasted somelittle time; when, as my faculties gradually resumed their powers, Ibecame slowly convinced that some one was actually calling me, and byname too, within a foot or two of my ears. I could not be mistaken; thefact was so, and the call was in a woman's tones. Springing up, Idemanded--
"Who is here? In the name of heaven, can this really be MissMalbone--Dus!"
"My name is Lowiny," answered my visitor, "and I'm Thousandacres'da'ghter. But don't speak so loud, for there is one of the b'ys on thewatch at the other end of the store'us, and you'll wake him up unlessyou're careful."
"Lowiny, is it you, my good girl? Not content to care for us throughoutthe day, you still have a thought for us during the night!"
I thought the girl felt embarrassed, for she must have been conscious ofhaving a little trespassed on the usages and reserve of her sex. It israre, indeed, that any mother, and especially an American mother, everfalls so low as completely to become unsexed in feelings and character,and rarer still that she forgets to impart many of the decencies ofwoman to her daughter. Old Prudence, notwithstanding the life she led,and the many causes of corruption and backslidings that existed aroundher, was true to her native instincts, and had taught to her girls manyof those little proprieties that become so great charms in woman.
Lowiny was far from disagreeable in person, and had the advantage ofbeing youthful in appearance, as well as in fact. In addition to thesemarks of her sex, she had manifested an interest in my fate, from thefirst, that had not escaped me; and here she was now, doubtless on someerrand of which the object was our good. My remark embarrassed her,however, and a few moments passed before she got entirely over thefeeling. As soon as she did, she again spoke.
"I don't think anything of bringing you and _the Injin_ a little water,"she said--laying an emphasis on the words I have put in Italics--"norshould I had we any beer or sap-cider instead. But all our spruce isout; and father said he wouldn't have any more of the cider made, seein'that we want all the sap for sugar. I hope you had a plentiful supply,Mr. Littlepage; and for fear you hadn't, I've brought you and theredskin a pitcher of milk and a bowl of hasty-pudding--_he_ can eata'ter _you've_ done, you know."
I thanked my kind-hearted friend, and received her gift through a holethat she pointed out to me. The food, in the end, proved veryacceptable, as subsequent circumstances caused our regular breakfast tobe forgotten for a time. I was desirous of ascertaining from this girlwhat was said or contemplated among her relatives, on the subject of myfuture fate; but felt a nearly unconquerable dislike to be prying intowhat was a species of family secrets, by putting direct questions toher. Fortunately, the communicative and friendly disposition of Lowinyherself soon removed all necessity for any such step; for afterexecuting her main purpose, she lingered with an evident wish to gossip.
"I wish father wouldn't be a squatter any longer," the girl said, withan earnestness that proved she was uttering her real sentiment. "It'sawful to be forever fighting ag'in law!"
"It would be far better if he would apply to some landowner and get afarm on lease, or by purchase. Land is so plenty in this country, no manneed go without a legal interest in his hundred acres, provided he beonly sober and industrious."
"Father never drinks, unless it's on the Fourth of July; and the b'ys beall pretty sober, too, as young men go, nowadays. I believe, Mr.Littlepage, if mother has told father once, she has told him a thousandtimes, that she _doos_ wish he'd leave off squatting, and take writin'sfor some piece of land or other. But father says, 'no--he warn't madefor writin's, nor writin's for him.' He's desp'ately troubled to knowwhat to do with you, now he's got you."
"Did Mr. Newcome give no opinion on the subject while he was with you?"
"'Squire Newcome! Father never let on to him a syllable about everhaving seen you. He knows too much to put himself in 'Squire Newcome'spower, sin' his lumber would go all the cheaper for it. What's youropinion, Mr. Littlepage, about our right to the boards, when we've cut,and hauled, and sawed the logs with our own hands. Don' that make somedifference?"
"What is your opinion of your right to a gown that another girl has madeout of calico she had taken from your drawer, when your back was turned,and carried away, and cut and stitched, and sewed with her own hands?"
"She never _would_ have any right to my calico, let her cut it as muchas she might. But lumber is made out of trees."
"And trees have owners just as much as calico. Hauling, and cutting, andsawing can of themselves give no man a right to another man's logs."
"I was afeard it was so--" answered Lowiny, sighing so loud as to beheard. "There's suthin' in that old Bible I lent you that I read prettymuch in that way; though Tobit, and most of the b'ys say that it don'tmean any sich thing. They say there's nothin' about lumber in the Bibleat all."
"And what does your mother tell you on this head?"
"Why, mother don't talk about it. She wants father to lease or buy; butyou know how it is with women, Mr. Littlepage; when their fr'nds act,it's all the same as a law to them to try to think that they act right.Mother never says anything to us about the lawfulness of father'sdoin's, though she often wishes he would live under writin's. Motherwants father to try and get writin's of you, now you're here, and in hishands. Wouldn't you give us writin's, Mr. Littlepage, if we'd promise togive you suthin' for rent?"
"If I did they would be good for nothing, unless I were free and amongfriends. Deeds and leases got from men who are 'in the hands,' as youcall it, of those w
ho take them, are of no value."
"I'm sorry for that--" rejoined Lowiny, with another sigh--"not that Iwanted you to be driven into anything, but I thought if you would onlyconsent to let father have writin's for this clearin', it's so good atime to do it now, 'twould be a pity to lose it. If it can't be done,however, it can't, and there's no use in complaining. Father thinks hecan hold you 'till the water rises in the fall, and the b'ys have runall the lumber down to Albany; a'ter which he'll not be so partic'larabout keepin' you any longer, and maybe he'll let you go."
"Hold me until the water rises! Why, that will not take place thesethree months!"
"Well, Mr. Littlepage, three months don't seem to me sich a desp'ratelong time when a body is among fri'nds. We should treat you as well aswe know how, that you may depend on--I'll answer for it, you shall wantfor nothin' that we've got to give."
"I dare say, my excellent girl, but I should be extremely sorry totrouble your family with so long a visit. As for the boards, I have nopower to waive the rights of the owners of the land to that property; mypower being merely to sell lots to actual settlers."
"I'm sorry to hear that," answered Lowiny in a gentle tone, that fullyconfirmed her words; "for father and the b'ys be really awful aboutanything that touches their profits for work done. They say their fleshand blood's in them boards, and flesh and blood shall go, afore theboards shall go. It makes my blood run cold to hear the way they dotalk! I'm not a bit skeary; and last winter, when I shot the bear thatwas a'ter the store-hogs, mother said I acted as well as she could havedone herself, and she has killed four bears and near upon twenty wolves,in her time. Yes, mother said I behaved like her own da'ghter, and thatshe set twice the store by me that she did before."
"You are a brave girl, Lowiny, and an excellent one in the main, I makeno question. Whatever become of me, I shall not forget your kindness aslong as I live. It will be a very serious matter, however, to yourfriends, to attempt keeping me here three or four months, as mine willcertainly have a search for me, when this clearing would be found. Ineed not tell you what would be the consequence."
"What _can_--what _will_ father and the b'ys do? I can't bear to thinkon't--oh! they'll not have the hearts to try to put you out of the way!"
"I should hope not, for their own sakes, and for the credit of theAmerican name. We are not a nation addicted to such practices, and Ishould really regret to learn that we have made so long a step towardthe crimes of older countries. But there is little danger of anything ofthe sort, after all, my good Lowiny."
"I hope so, too," the girl answered, in a low, tremulous voice; "thoughTobit is a starn bein' sometimes. He makes father worse than he wouldbe, if let alone, I know. But I must go, now. It's near daylight, and Ihear 'em stirring in Tobit's house. It would cost me dear did any on 'emknow I had been out of my bed, talking to you."
As this was said, the girl vanished. Before I could find an aperture towatch her movements, she had disappeared. Susquesus arose a few minuteslater, but he never made any allusion to the secret visit of the girl.In this respect, he observed the most scrupulous delicacy, never lettingme know by hint, look, or smile, that he had been in the least consciousof her presence.
Day came as usual, but it did not find these squatters in their beds.They appeared with the dawn, and most of them were at work ere the broadlight of the sun was shed on the forest. Most of the men went down intothe river, and busied themselves, as we supposed, for we could not seethem, in the water, with the apples of their eyes, their boards. OldThousandacres, however, chose to remain near his habitation, keeping twoor three well-grown lads about him; probably adverting in his mind tothe vast importance it was to all of his race, to make sure of hisprisoners. I could see by the thoughtful manner of the old squatter, ashe lounged around his mill, among his swine, and walked through hispotatoes, that his mind wavered greatly as to the course he ought topursue, and that he was sorely troubled. How long this perplexity offeeling would have continued, and to what it might have led, it is hardto say, had it not been cut short by an incident of a very unexpectednature, and one that called for more immediate decision and action. Ishall relate the occurrence a little in detail.
The day was considerably advanced, and, Thousandacres and the girl whothen watched the storehouse excepted, everybody was occupied. EvenSusquesus had picked up a piece of birch, and with a melancholycountenance, that I fancied was shadowing forth the future life of ahalf-civilized red man, was attempting to make a broom with a part of aknife that he had found in the building; while I was sketching, on aleaf of my pocket-book, the mill and a bit of mountain land that servedit for a background. Thousandacres, for the first time that morning,drew near our prison, and spoke to me. His countenance was severe, yet Icould see he was much troubled. As I afterward ascertained, Tobit hadbeen urging on him the necessity of putting both myself and the Indianto death, as the only probable means that offered to save the lumber.
"Young man," said Thousandacres, "you have stolen on me and mine like athief at night, and you ought to expect the fate of one. How in natur'can you expect men will give up their hard 'arnin's without a struggleand a fight for 'em? You tempt me more than I can bear!"
I felt the fearful import of these words; but human nature revolted atthe thought of being cowed into any submission, or terms unworthy of mycharacter, or late profession. I was on the point of making an answer inentire consonance with this feeling, when, in looking through the chinksof my prison to fasten an eye on my old tyrant, I saw Chainbeareradvancing directly toward the storehouse, and already within a hundredyards of us. The manner in which I gazed at this apparition attractedthe attention of the squatter, who turned and first saw the unexpectedvisitor who approached. At the next minute, Andries was at his side.
"So, T'ousandacres, I fint you here!" exclaimed Chainbearer. "It's agoot many years since you and I met, and I'm sorry we meet now on suchpisiness as t'is!"
"The meetin's of your own seekin', Chainbearer. I've neither invited norwished for your company."
"I p'lieve you wit' all my heart. No, no; you wish for no chains and nochainpearers, no surfeyors and no compasses, no lots and no owners, too,put a squatter. You and I haf not to make an acquaintance for t'e firsttime, T'ousandacres, after knowin' each other for fifty years."
"Yes, we _do_ know each other for fifty years; and seein' that themyears hav'nt sarved to bring us of a mind on any one thing, we shouldhave done better to keep apart, than to come together now."
"I haf come for my poy, squatter--my nople poy, whom you haf illegallyarrested, and mate a prisoner, in the teet' of all law and justice. Gifme pack Mortaunt Littlepage, and you'll soon be rit of my company!"
"And how do you know that I've ever seen your 'Mortaunt Littlepage?'What have I to do with your boy, that you seek him of me? Go your ways,go your ways, old Chainbearer, and let me and mine alone. The world'swide enough for us both, I tell you; and why should you be set on yourown ondoin', by runnin' ag'in a breed like that which comes of Aaron andPrudence Timberman?"
"I care not for you or your preet," answered old Andries sternly."You've dare't to arrest my frient, against law and right, and I come todemant his liperty, or to warn you of t'e consequences."
"Don't press me too far, Chainbearer, don't press me too far. There'sdesp'rate crittur's in this clearin', and them that is'nt to be drivenfrom their righteous 'arnin's by any that carry chains or p'intcompasses. Go your way, I tell ye, and leave us to gather the harvestthat comes of the seed of our own sowin' and plantin'."
"Ye'll gat'er it, ye'll gat'er it all, T'ousantacres--you and yours.Ye've sown t'e win't, and ye'll reap t'e whirl-wints, as my niece DusMalpone has reat to me often, of late. Ye'll gat'er in all your harvest,tares ant all, ye will; and t'at sooner t'an ye t'ink for."
"I wish I'd never seen the face of the man! Go away, I tell you,Chainbearer, and leave me to my hard 'arnin's."
"Earnin's! Do you call it earnin's to chop and pillage on anot'er'slants, and to cut his trees into log
s, and to saw his logs into poarts,and to sell his poarts to speculators, and gif no account of yourprofits to t'e rightful owner of it all? Call you such t'ievin'righteous earnin's?"
"Thief back ag'in, old measurer! Do not the sweat of the brow, long andhard days of toil, achin' bones, and hungry bellies, give a man a claimto the fruit of his labors?"
"T'at always hast peen your failin', T'ousantacres; t'at's t'e veryp'int on which you've proken town, man. You pegin wit' your morals, att'e startin' place t'at's most convenient to yourself and yourplunterin' crew, insteat of goin' pack to t'e laws of your Lort andMaster. Reat what t'e Almighty Got of Heaven ant 'art' sait unto Moses,ant you'll fint t'at you've not turnet over leafs enough of your piple.You may chop ant you may hew, you may haul ant you may saw, from t'isday to t'e ent of time, and you'll nefer pe any nearer to t'e right t'anyou are at t'is moment. T'e man t'at starts on his journey wit' his facein t'e wrong direction, olt T'ousantacres, wilt nefer reach its ent;t'ough he trafel 'till t'e sweat rolls from his poty like water. Youpegin wrong, olt man, and you must ent wrong."
I saw the cloud gathering in the countenance of the squatter, andanticipated the outbreaking of the tempest that followed. Two fierytempers had met, and, divided as they were in opinions and practice, bythe vast chasm that separates principles from expediency, right fromwrong, honesty from dishonesty, and a generous sacrifice of self tosupport the integrity of a noble spirit, from a homage to self thatconfounded and overshadowed all sense of right, it was not possible thatthey should separate without a collision. Unable to answer Chainbearer'sreasoning, the squatter resorted to the argument of force. He seized myold friend by the throat and made a violent effort to hurl him to theearth. I must do this man of violence and evil the justice to say, thatI do not think it was his wish at that moment to have any assistance;but the instant the struggle commenced the conch blew, and it was easyto predict that many minutes would not elapse before the sons ofThousandacres would be pouring in to the rescue. I would have given aworld to be able to throw down the walls of my prison, and rush to theaid of my sterling old friend. As for Susquesus, he must have felt alively interest in what was going on, but he remained as immovable, andseemingly as unmoved as a rock.
Andries Coejemans, old as he was, and it will be remembered he too hadseen his threescore years and ten, was not a man to be taken by thethroat with impunity. Thousandacres met with a similar assault and astruggle followed that was surprisingly fierce and well contested,considering that both the combatants had completed the ordinary limitsof the time of man. The squatter gained a slight advantage in thesuddenness and vigor of his assault, but Chainbearer was still a man offormidable physical power. In his prime few had been his equals; andThousandacres soon had reason to know that he had met more than hismatch. For a single instant Chainbearer gave ground; then he rallied,made a desperate effort, and his adversary was hurled to the earth witha violence that rendered him for a short time insensible; old Andrieshimself continuing erect as one of the neighboring pines, red in theface, frowning, and more severe in aspect than I remembered ever to haveseen him before, even in battle.
Instead of pushing his advantage, Chainbearer did not stir a foot afterhe had thrown off his assailant. There he remained, lofty in bearing,proud and stern. He had reason to believe no one was a witness of hisprowess, but I could see that the old man had a soldier's feelings athis victory. At this instant I first let him know my close proximity byspeaking.
"Fly--for your life take to the woods, Chainbearer," I called to him,through the clinks. "That conch will bring all the tribe of thesquatters upon you in two or three minutes; the young men are close athand, in the stream below the mill, at work on the logs, and have onlythe banks to climb."
"Got be praiset! Mortaunt, my tear poy, you are not injuret, t'en! Iwill open t'e toor of your prison, and we will retreat toget'er."
My remonstrances were vain. Andries came round to the door of thestorehouse, and made an effort to force it open. That was not easy,however; for, opening outward, it was barred with iron, and secured by astout lock. Chainbearer would not listen to my remonstrances, but helooked around him for some instrument by means of which he could eitherbreak the lock or draw the staple. As the mill was at no great distance,away he went in that direction, in quest of what he wanted, leaving mein despair at his persevering friendship. Remonstrance was useless,however, and I was compelled to await the result in silence.
Chainbearer was still a very active man. Nature, early training,sobriety of life in the main, and a good constitution, had done thismuch for him. It was but a moment before I saw him in the mill, lookingfor the crowbar. This he soon found, and he was on his way to thestorehouse, in order to apply this powerful lever, when Tobit came insight, followed by all the brethren, rushing up the bank like a pack ofhounds in close pursuit. I shouted to my friend again to fly, but hecame on steadily toward my prison, bent on the single object of settingme free. All this time, Thousandacres was senseless, his head havingfallen against a corner of the building. Chainbearer was so intent onhis purpose that, though he must have seen the crowd of young men, noless than six in number, including well-grown lads, that was swiftlyadvancing toward him, he did not bestow the least attention on them. Hewas actually busied with endeavoring to force the bar in between thehasp and the post, when his arms were seized behind, and he was made aprisoner.
Chainbearer was no sooner apprised of the uselessness of resistance,than he ceased to make any. As I afterward learned from himself, he haddetermined to become a captive with me, if he could not succeed insetting me free. Tobit was the first to lay hands on the Chainbearer;and so rapidly were things conducted, for this man had the key, that thedoor was unbarred, opened, and old Andries was thrust into the cage,almost in the twinkling of an eye. The rapidity of the movement wasdoubtless aided by the acquiescent feeling that happened to be uppermostin the mind of Chainbearer, at that precise moment.
No sooner was this new prisoner secured, than the sons of Thousandacresraised their father's body, and bore it to his own residence, which wasbut a few yards distant. Old and young, both sexes and all ages,collected in that building; and there was an hour during which weappeared to be forgotten. The sentinel, who was a son of Tobit's,deserted his post; and even Lowiny, who had been hovering in sight ofthe storehouse the whole morning, seemed to have lost her interest inus. I was too much engaged with my old friend, and had too manyquestions to ask and to answer, however, to care much for thisdesertion; which, moreover, was natural enough for the circumstances.
"I rejoice you are not in the hands of that pack of wolves, my goodfriend!" I exclaimed, after the first salutations had passed betweenAndries and myself, and squeezing his hand again and again. "They arevery capable of any act of violence; and I feared the sight of theirfather, lying there insensible, might have inflamed them to some deed ofimmediate violence. There will now be time for reflection, andfortunately, I am a witness of all that passed."
"No fear for olt Thousandacres," said Chainbearer, heartily. "He istough, and he is only a little stunnet, pecause he t'ought himself apetter man t'an he ist. Half an hour will pring him rount, and make himas good a man ast he ever wast. But Mortaunt, lat, how came you here,and why wast you wantering apout t'e woods at night, wit' Trackless,here, who ist a sensiple ret-skin, and ought to haf set you a petterexample?"
"I was hot and feverish, and could not sleep; and so I took a stroll inthe forest, and got lost. Luckily, Susquesus had an eye on me, and kepthimself at hand the whole time. I was obliged to catch a nap in the topof a fallen tree, and when I woke in the morning, the Onondago led mehere in quest of something to eat, for I was hungry as a famished wolf."
"Tid Susquesus, t'en, know of squatters having mate t'eir pitch on t'isproperty?" asked Andries, in some surprise, and as I thought, a littlesternly.
"Not he. He heard the saw of the mill in the stillness of night, and wefollowed the direction of that sound, and came unexpectedly out on thissettlement. As soon as Thousandacr
es ascertained who I was, he shut meup here and as for Susquesus, Jaap has doubtless told you the story hewas commissioned to relate."
"All fery true, lat, all fery true; t'ough I don't half understant, yet,why you shoul't haf left us in t'e manner you tit, and t'at, too, afterhafin' a long talk wit 'Dus. T'e gal is heart-heafy, Mortaunt, as 'tisplain to pe seen; put I can't get a syllaple from her t'at hast t'e lookof a rational explanation. I shall haf to ask you to tell t'e story,lat. I was tryin' to get t'e trut' out of Dus, half of t'e way comin'here; put a gal is as close as----"
"Dus!" I interrupted--"Half the way coming here? You _do_ not, _cannot_mean that Dus is with you."
"Hist, hist--pe careful. You speak too lout. I coult wish not to lett'ese scountrels of squatters know t'at t'e gal is so exposet, put hereshe ist; or, what is much t'e same, she is in t'e woots out yonter, alooker-on, and I fear must pe in consarn at seein' t'at I, too, am aprisoner."
"Chainbearer, how could you thus expose your niece--thus bring her intothe very grasp of lawless ruffians?"
"No, Mortaunt, no--t'ere is no fear of her peing insultet, or anyt'ingof t'at sort. One can reat of such t'ings in pooks, put woman isrespectet and not insultet in America. Not one of T'ousantacres' rascalswoult wount t'e ear of t'e gal wit' an improper wort, hat he a chance,which not one of 'em hast, seein' nopody knows t'e gal is wit' me, putourselves. Come she woult, and t'ere wast no use in saying her nay. Dusis a goot creature, Mortaunt, and a tutiful gal; put it's as easy toturn a rifer up stream, as to try to holt her pack when she loves."
"Is that her character?" I thought. "Then is there little chance,indeed, of her ever becoming mine, since her affections must have gonewith her troth." Nevertheless, my interest in the noble-hearted girl wasjust as strong as if I held her faith, and she was to become mine in afew weeks. The idea that she was at that moment waiting the return ofher uncle, in the woods, was agony to me; but I had sufficientself-command to question the Chainbearer, until I got out of him all ofthe following facts:
Jaap had carried the message of Susquesus, with great fidelity, to thoseto whom the Indian had sent it. On hearing the news, and the manner ofmy arrest, Andries called a council, consisting of himself, Dus andFrank Malbone. This occurred in the afternoon of the previous day; andthat same night, Malbone proceeded to Ravensnest, with a view ofobtaining warrants for the arrest of Thousandacres and his gang, as wellas of procuring assistance to bring them all in, in expectation ofhaving the whole party transferred to the gaol at Sandy Hill. As thewarrant could be granted only by Mr. Newcome, I could easily see thatthe messenger would be detained a considerable time, since themagistrate would require a large portion of the present day to enablehim to reach his house. This fact, however, I thought it well enough toconceal from my friend at the moment.
Early that morning, Chainbearer, Dus and Jaap had left the huts, takingthe nearest route to the supposed position of the clearing ofThousandacres, as it had been described by the Indian. Aided by acompass, as well as by their long familiarity with the woods, this partyhad little difficulty in reaching the spot where the Onondago and thenegro had met; after which, the remainder of the journey was through a_terra incognita_, as respects the adventurers. With some search,however, a glimpse was got of the light of the clearing, much as onefinds an island in the ocean, when the skirts of the wood wereapproached. A favorable spot, one that possessed a good cover, wasselected, whence Chainbearer reconnoitred for near an hour before heleft it. After a time he determined on the course he adopted and carriedout, leaving his niece to watch his movements, with instructions torejoin her brother, should he himself be detained by the squatter. I wasa little relieved by the knowledge of the presence of Jaap, for I knewthe fidelity of the fellow too well to suppose he would ever desert Dus;but my prison became twice as irksome to me after I had heard thisaccount of the Chainbearer's, as it had been before.