The Oak Openings, Or, the Bee Hunter

  "Brothers," said this mysterious chief, "it is good for Injins to learn. When they learn a thing, they know it; then they may learn another. It is in this way that the pale-faces do; it makes them wise, and puts it in their power to take away our hunting-grounds. A man that knows nothing is only a child that has grown up too fast. He may be big—may take long steps—may be strong enough to carry burdens—may love venison and buffaloes' humps; but his size is only in the way; his steps he does not know where to direct; his burdens he does not know how to choose; and he has to beg food of the squaws, instead of carrying it himself to their wigwams. He has not learned how to take game. We must all learn. It is right. When we have learned how to take game, and how to strike the enemy, and how to keep the wigwam filled, then we may learn traditions. Traditions tell us of our fathers. We have many traditions. Some are talked of, even to the squaws. Some are told around the fires of the tribes. Some are known only to the aged chiefs. This is right, too. Injins ought not to say too much, nor too little. They should say what is wise—what is best. But my brother, the medicine-man of the pale- faces, says that our traditions have not told us everything. Something has been kept back. If so, it is best to learn that too. If we are Jews, and not Injins, we ought to know it. If we are Injins, and not Jews, our brother ought to know it, and not call us by a wrong name. Let him speak. We listen."

  Here Peter slowly resumed his seat. As the missionary understood all that had been said, he next arose, and proceeded to make good, as far as he was able, and in such language as his knowledge of Indian habits suggested, his theory of the lost tribes.

  "I wish my children to understand," resumed the missionary, "that it is an honor to be a Jew. I have not come here to lessen the red men in their own eyes, but to do them honor. I see that Bear's Meat wishes to say something; my ears are open, and my tongue is still."

  "I thank my brother for the opportunity to say what is on my mind," returned the chief mentioned. "It is true I have something to say; it is this: I wish to ask the medicine-man if the pale-faces honor and show respect to the Jews?"

  This was rather an awkward question for the missionary, but he was much too honest to dissemble. With a reverence for truth that proceeded from his reverence for the Father of all that is true, he replied honestly, though not altogether without betraying how much he regretted the necessity of answering at all. Both remained standing while the dialogue proceeded; or in parliamentary language, each may be said to have had the floor at the same time.

  "My brother wishes to know if the pale-faces honor the Jews," returned the missionary. "I wish I could answer 'yes'; but the truth forces me to say 'no.' The pale-faces have traditions that make against the Jews, and the judgments of God weigh heavy on the children of Israel. But all good Christians, now, look with friendly eyes on this dispersed and persecuted people, and wish them well. It will give the white men very great pleasure to learn that I have found the lost tribes of Israel in the red men of America."

  "Will my brother tell us WHY this will give his people pleasure? Is it because they will be glad to find old enemies, poor, living on narrow hunting-grounds, off which the villages and farms of the pale-faces begin to push them still nearer to the setting sun; and toward whom the small-pox has found a path to go, but none to come from?"

  "Nay, nay, Bear's Meat, think not so unkindly of us of the white race! In crossing the great salt lake, and in coming to this quarter of the world, our fathers were led by the finger of God. We do but obey the will of the Great Spirit, in pressing forward into this wilderness, directed by his wisdom how to spread the knowledge of his name among those who, as yet, have never heard it; or, having heard, have not regarded it. In all this, the wisest men are but babes; not being able to say whither they are to go, or what is to be done."

  "This is strange," returned the unmoved Indian. "It is not so with the red men. Our squaws and pappooses do know the hunting-ground of one tribe from the hunting-ground of another. When they put their feet on strange hunting-grounds, it is because they INTENDED to go there, and to steal game. This is sometimes right. If it is right to take the scalp of an enemy, it is right to get his deer and his buffalo, too. But we never do this without knowing it. If we did, we should be unfit to go at large, unfit to sit in council. This is the first time I have heard that the pale-faces are so weak, and they have such feeble minds, too, that they do not know where they go."

  "My brother does not understand me. No man can see into the future— no man can say what will happen to-morrow. The Great Spirit only can tell. It is for him, then, to guide his children in their wanderings. When our fathers first came out of their canoes upon the land, on this side of the great salt lake, not one among them knew anything of this country between the great lakes of sweet water. They did not know that red men lived here. The Great Spirit did know, and intended then, that I should this night stand up in this council, and speak of his power and of his name, and do him reverence. It was the Great Spirit that put it into my mind to come among the Indians; and it is the Great Spirit who has led me, step by step, as warriors move toward the graves of their fathers, to make the discovery, that the Indians are, in truth, the children of Israel, a part of his own chosen and once much-favored people. Let me ask my friends one or two questions. Do not your traditions say that your fathers once came from a far-off land?"

  Bear's Meat now took his seat, not choosing to answer a question of this nature, in the presence of a chief so much respected as Peter. He preferred to let the last take up the dialogue where he now saw fit to abandon it. As the other very well understood the reason of this sudden movement, he quietly assumed the office of spokesman; the whole affair proceeding much as if there had been no change.

  "Our traditions DO tell us that our fathers came from a far-off land," answered Peter, without rising.

  "I thought so!—I thought so!" exclaimed the simple-minded and confiding missionary. "How wonderful are the ways of God! Yes, my brother, Judea is a far-off land, and your traditions say that your fathers came from such a distance! This, then, is something proved. Do not your traditions say, that once your tribes were more in favor with the Great Spirit than they are now?"

  "Our traditions do say this: once our tribes did not see the face of the Manitou looking dark upon them, as it now does. That was before the pale-faces came in their big canoes, across the great salt lake, to drive the Indians from their hunting-grounds. It was when the small-pox had not found the path to their villages. When fire-water was unknown to them, and no Indian had ever burned his throat with it."

  "Oh, but I speak of a time much more distant than that. Of a time when your prophets stood face to face with God, and talked with the Creator. Since that day a great change has come over your people. Then your color was light, like that of the fairest and handsomest of the Circassian race; now, it has become red. When even the color is changed, it is not wonderful that men should no longer be the same in other particulars. Yes; once all the races of men were of the same color and origin."

  "This is not what our traditions say. We have heard from our fathers that the Great Spirit made men of different colors; some he made light, like the pale-faces; some red, like the Injins; some black, like the pale-faces' slaves. To some he gave high noses; to some low noses: to some flat noses. To the pale-faces he gave eyes of many colors. This is the reason why they see so many things, and in so many different ways. To the red men he gave eyes of the same color, and they always see things of the same color. To a red man there is no change. Our fathers have always been red. This we know. If them Jews, of whom my brother speaks, were ever white, they have not been our fathers. We tell this to the medicine-man, that he may know it, too. We do not wish to lead him on a crooked path, or to speak to him with a forked tongue. What we have said, is so. Now, the road is open to the wigwam of the pale-faces, and we wish them safe on their journey home. We Injins have a council to hold around this fire, and will stay longer."

  At this plain intimation tha
t their presence was no longer desirable, it became necessary for them to depart. The missionary, filled with zeal, was reluctant to go, for, in his eyes, the present communications with the savages promised him not only the conversion of pagans, but the restoration of the Jews! Nevertheless, he was compelled to comply; and when le Bourdon and the corporal took their departure, he turned, and pronounced in solemn tone the Christian benediction on the assembly. The meaning of this last impressive office was understood by most of the chiefs, and they rose as one man, in acknowledgment.

  The three white men, on retiring from the circle, held their way toward Castle Meal. Hive followed his master, having come out of the combat but little injured. As they got to a point where a last look could be had of the bottom-land of the council, each turned to see what was now in the course of proceeding. The fire glimmered just enough to show the circlet of dark faces, but not an Indian spoke or moved. There they all sat, patiently waiting for the moment when the "strangers" might "withdraw" to a sufficient distance, to permit them to proceed with their own private affairs without fear of interruption.

  "This has been to me a most trying scene," observed the missionary, as the three pursued their way toward the garrison. "How hard it is to convince men against their wishes. Now, I am as certain as a man can be, that every one of these Injins is in fact a Jew; and yet, you have seen how small has been my success in persuading them to be of the right way of thinking, on this subject."

  "I have always noticed that men stick even to their defects, when they're nat'ral," returned the bee-hunter. "Even a nigger will stand up for his color, and why shouldn't an Injin? You began wrong, parson. Had you just told these chiefs that they were Jews, they might have stood THAT, poor creatures, for they hardly know how mankind looks upon a Jew; but you went to work to skin them, in a lump, making so many poor, wishy-washy pale-faces of all the red- skins, in a body. You and I may fancy a white face better than one of any other color; but nature colors the eye when it colors the body, and there's not a nigger in America who doesn't think black the pink of beauty."

  "Perhaps it was proceeding too fast to say anything about the change of color, Bourdon. But what can a Christian minister do, unless he tell the truth? Adam could have been but of one color; and all the races on earth, one excepted, must have changed from that one color."

  "Aye, and my life on it, that all the races on 'arth believe that one color to have been just that which has fallen to the luck of each partic'lar shade. Hang me if I should like to be persuaded out of my color, any more than these Injins. In America, color goes for a great deal; and it may count for as much with an Injin as among us whites. No, no, parson; you should have begun with persuading these savages into the notion that they're Jews; if you could get along with THAT, the rest might be all the easier."

  "You speak of the Jews, not as if you considered them a chosen people of the Lord, but as a despised and hateful race. This is not right, Bourdon. I know that Christians are thus apt to regard them; but it does not tell well for their charity or their knowledge."

  "I know very little about them, Parson Amen; not being certain of ever having seen a Jew in my life. Still, I will own that I have a sort of grudge against them, though I can hardly tell you why. Of one thing I feel certain—no man breathing should ever persuade me into the notion that I'M a Jew, lost or found; ten tribes or twenty. What say you, corporal, to this idea?"

  "Just as you say, Bourdon. Jews, Turks, and infidels, I despise: so was I brought up, and so I shall remain."

  "Can either of you tell me WHY you look in this uncharitable light, on so many of your fellow-creatures? It cannot be Christianity, for such are not its teachings or feelings. Nor is either of you very remarkable for his observance of the laws of God, as they have been revealed to Christian people. MY heart yearns toward these Injins, who are infidels, instead of entertaining any of the feelings that the corporal has just expressed."

  "I wish there were fewer of them, and that them few were farther from Castle Meal," put in le Bourdon, with point. "I have known all along that Peter meant to have a great council; but will own, now that I have seen something of it, I do not find it quite as much to my mind as I had expected it would be."

  "There's a strong force on 'em," said the corporal, "and a hard set be they to look at. When a man's a young soldier, all this paint, and shaving of heads, and rings in noses and ears, makes some impression; but a campaign or two ag'in' the fellows soon brings all down to one color and one uniform, if their naked hides can be so called. I told 'em off, Bourdon, and reconn'itred 'em pretty well, while they was a making speeches; and, in my judgment, we can hold good the garrison ag'in' 'em all, if so be we do not run short of water. Provisions and water is what a body may call fundamentals, in a siege."

  "I hope we shall have no need of force—nay, I feel persuaded there will not be," said Parson Amen. "Peter is our friend; and his command over these savages is wonderful! Never before have I seen red men so completely under the control of a chief. Your men at Fort Dearborn, corporal, were scarcely more under the orders of their officers, than these red-skins are under the orders of this chief!"

  "I will not go to compare rig'lars with Injins, Mr. Parson," answered the corporal, a little stiffly. "They be not of the same natur' at all, and ought not to be put on a footing, in any particular. These savages may obey their orders, after a fashion of their own; but I should like to see them manoeuvre under fire. I've fit Injins fourteen times, in my day, and have never seen a decent line, or a good, honest, manly, stand-up charge, made by the best among 'em, in any field, far or near. Trees and covers is necessary to their constitutions, just as sartain as a deer chased will take to water to throw off the scent. Put 'em up with the baggonet, and they'll not stand a minute."

  "How should they, corporal," interrupted le Bourdon laughing, "when they've no baggonets of their own to make a stand with? You put one in mind of what my father used to say. He was a soldier in revolution times, and sarved his seven years with Washington. The English used to boast that the Americans wouldn't 'stand up to the rack,' if the baggonet was set to work; 'but this was before we got our own toothpicks,' said the old man. 'As soon as they gave US baggonets, too, there was no want of standing up to the work.' It seems to me, corporal, you overlook the fact that Injins carry no baggonets."

  "Every army uses its own weapons. If an Injin prefers his knife and his tomahawk to a baggonet, it is no affair of mine. I speak of a charge as I see it; and the soldier who relies on a tomahawk instead of a baggonet, should stand in his tracks, and give tomahawk play. No, no, Bourdon, seeing is believing. These red-skins can do nothing with our people, when our people is properly regimented, well officered, and thoroughly drilled. They're skeary to new beginners— THAT I must acknowledge—but beyond that I set them down as nothing remarkable as military men."

  "Good or bad, I wish there were fewer of them, and that they were farther off. This man Peter is a mystery to me: sometimes he seems quite friendly; then, ag'in, he appears just ready to take all our scalps. Do you know much of his past history, Mr. Amen?"

  "Not as much as I wish I did," the missionary replied. "No one can tell me aught concerning Peter, beyond the fact of his being a sort of a prophet, and a chief of commanding influence. Even his tribe is unknown; a circumstance that points us to the ancient history of the Jews for the explanation. It is my own opinion that Peter is of the race of Aaron, and that he is designed by Divine Providence to play an important part in the great events on which we touch. All that is wanting is, to persuade HIM into this belief, himself. Once persuade a man that he is intended to be something, and your work is half done to your hands. But the world is so full of ill-digested and random theories, that truth has as much as it can do to obtain a sober and patient hearing!"

  Thus is it with poor human nature. Let a man get a crotchet into his head—however improbable it may be, however little supported by reason or fact, however ridiculous, indeed—and he becomes indisposed to
receive any evidence but that which favors his theory; to see any truths but such as he fancies will harmonize with HIS truths; or to allow of any disturbing causes in the great workings of his particular philosophy. This notion of Parson Amen's concerning the origin of the North American savage, did not originate with that simple-minded enthusiast, by any means. In this way are notions formed and nurtured. The missionary had read somewhat concerning the probability that the American Indians were the lost tribes of Israel; and possessed with the idea, everything he saw was tortured into evidence in support of his theory. There is just as much reason for supposing that any, and all, of the heathen savages that are scattered up and down the earth have this origin, as to ascribe it to our immediate tribes; but to this truth the good parson was indifferent, simply because it did not come within the circle of his particular belief.

  Thus, too, was it with the corporal. Unless courage, and other military qualities, were manifested precisely in the way in which HE had been trained, they were not courage and military qualities at all. Every virtue has its especial and conventional accessories, according to this school of morals; nothing of the sort remaining as it came from above, in the simple abstract qualities of right and wrong. On such feelings and principles as these, do men get to be dogmatical, narrow-minded, and conceited!

  Our three white men pursued their way back to the "garrison," conversing as they went, much in the manner they did in the dialogue we have just recorded. Neither Parson Amen nor the corporal seemed to apprehend anything, not-withstanding the extraordinary scene in which one had been an actor, and of which the other had been a witness. Their wonder and apprehensions, no doubt, were much mitigated by the fact, that it was understood Peter was to meet a large collection of the chiefs in the Openings, and the minds of all were, more or less, prepared to see some such assemblage as had that night got together. The free manner in which the mysterious chief led the missionary to the circle, was, of itself, some proof that HE did not desire concealment; and even le Bourdon admitted, when they came to discuss the details, that this was a circumstance that told materially in favor of the friendliness of his intentions. Still, the bee-hunter had his doubts; and most sincerely did he wish that all in Castle Meal, Blossom in particular, were safe within the limits of civilized settlements.