The Prairie (Fiscle Part 3) Of 2 by J Fenimore Cooper (phonics reading books TXT) 📕

Better Customs Of The Whites.

This Enquiring And Troublesome Spirit Found No Imitators Among The

Indians. The Delicacy And Reserve Of Hard-Heart Were Communicated To

His People. When Every Attention,  That Could Be Suggested By Their

Simple Manners And Narrow Wants,  Had Been Fulfilled,  No Intrusive Foot

Presumed To Approach The Cabins Devoted To The Service Of The

Strangers. They Were Left To Seek Their Repose In The Manner Which

Most Comported With Their Habits And Inclinations. The Songs And

Rejoicings Of The Tribe,  However,  Ran Far Into The Night,  During The

Deepest Hours Of Which,  The Voice Of More Than One Warrior Was Heard,

Recounting From The Top Of His Lodge,  The Deeds Of His People And The

Glory Of Their Triumphs.

Every Thing Having Life,  Notwithstanding The Excesses Of The Night,

Was Abroad With The Appearance Of The Sun. The Expression Of

Exultation,  Which Had So Lately Been Seen On Every Countenance,  Was

Now Changed To One Better Suited To The Feeling Of The Moment. It Was

Understood By All,  That The Pale-Faces,  Who Had Befriended Their Chief

Were About To Take Their Final Leave Of The Tribe. The Soldiers Of

Middleton,  In Anticipation Of His Arrival,  Had Bargained With An

Unsuccessful Trader For The Use Of His Boat,  Which Lay In The Stream

Ready To Receive Its Cargo,  And Nothing Remained To Complete The

Arrangements For The Long Journey.

Middleton Did Not See This Moment Arrive Entirely Without Distrust.

The Admiration With Which Hard-Heart Regarded Inez,  Had Not Escaped

His Jealous Eye,  Any More Than Had The Lawless Wishes Of Mahtoree. He

Knew The Consummate Manner In Which A Savage Could Conceal His

Designs,  And He Felt That It Would Be A Culpable Weakness To Be

Unprepared For The Worst. Secret Instructions Were Therefore Given To

His Men,  While The Preparations They Made Were Properly Masked Behind

The Show Of Military Parade,  With Which It Was Intended To Signalise

Their Departure.

The Conscience Of The Young Soldier Reproached Him,  When He Saw The

Whole Tribe Accompanying His Party To The Margin Of The Stream,  With

Unarmed Hands And Sorrowful Countenances. They Gathered In A Circle

Around The Strangers And Their Chief,  And Became Not Only Peaceful,

But Highly Interested Observers Of What Was Passing. As It Was Evident

That Hard-Heart Intended To Speak,  The Former Stopped,  And Manifested

Their Readiness To Listen,  The Trapper Performing The Office Of

Interpreter. Then The Young Chief Addressed His People,  In The Usual

Metaphorical Language Of An Indian. He Commenced By Alluding To The

Antiquity And Renown Of His Own Nation. He Spoke Of Their Successes In

The Hunts And On The War-Path; Of The Manner In Which They Had Always

Known How To Defend Their Rights And To Chastise Their Enemies. After

He Had Said Enough To Manifest His Respect For The Greatness Of The

Loups,  And To Satisfy The Pride Of The Listeners,  He Made A Sudden

Transition To The Race Of Whom The Strangers Were Members. He Compared

Their Countless Numbers To The Flights Of Migratory Birds In The

Season Of Blossoms,  Or In The Fall Of The Year. With A Delicacy,  That

None Know Better How To Practise Than An Indian Warrior,  He Made No

Direct Mention Of The Rapacious Temper,  That So Many Of Them Had

Betrayed,  In Their Dealings With The Red-Men. Feeling That The

Sentiment Of Distrust Was Strongly Engrafted In The Tempers Of His

Tribe,  He Rather Endeavoured To Soothe Any Just Resentment They Might

Entertain,  By Indirect Excuses And Apologies. He Reminded The

Listeners That Even The Pawnee Loups Had Been Obliged To Chase Many

Unworthy Individuals From Their Villages. The Wahcondah Sometimes

Veiled His Countenance From A Red-Man. No Doubt The Great Spirit Of

The Pale-Faces Often Looked Darkly On His Children. Such As Were

Abandoned To The Worker Of Evil Could Never Be Brave Or Virtuous,  Let

The Colour Of The Skin Be What It Might. He Bade His Young Men Look At

The Hands Of The Big-Knives. They Were Not Empty,  Like Those Of Hungry

Beggars. Neither Were They Filled With Goods,  Like Those Of Knavish

Traders. They Were,  Like Themselves,  Warriors,  And They Carried Arms

Which They Knew Well How To Use--They Were Worthy To Be Called

Brothers!

Then He Directed The Attention Of All To The Chief Of The Strangers.

He Was A Son Of Their Great White Father. He Had Not Come Upon The

Prairies To Frighten The Buffaloes From Their Pastures,  Or To Seek The

Game Of The Indians. Wicked Men Had Robbed Him Of One Of His Wives; No

Doubt She Was The Most Obedient,  The Meekest,  The Loveliest Of Them

All. They Had Only To Open Their Eyes To See That His Words Must Be

True. Now,  That The White Chief Had Found His Wife,  He Was About To

Return To His Own People In Peace. He Would Tell Them That The Pawnees

Were Just,  And There Would Be A Line Of Wampum Between The Two

Nations. Let All His People Wish The Strangers A Safe Return To Their

Towns. The Warriors Of The Loups Knew Both How To Receive Their

Enemies,  And How To Clear The Briars From The Path Of Their Friends.

The Heart Of Middleton Beat Quick,  As The Young Partisan[*] Alluded To

The Charms Of Inez,  And For An Instant He Cast An Impatient Glance At

His Little Line Of Artillerists; But The Chief From That Moment

Appeared To Forget He Had Ever Seen So Fair A Being. His Feelings,  If

He Had Any On The Subject,  Were Veiled Behind The Cold Mask Of Indian

Self-Denial. He Took Each Warrior By The Hand,  Not Forgetting The

Meanest Soldier,  But His Cold And Collected Eye Never Wandered,  For An

Instant,  Towards Either Of The Females. Arrangements Had Been Made For

Their Comfort,  With A Prodigality And Care That Had Not Failed To

Excite Some Surprise In His Young Men,  But In No Other Particular Did

He Shock Their Manly Pride,  By Betraying Any Solicitude In Behalf Of

The Weaker Sex.

[*] The Americans And The Indians Have Adopted Several Words,  Which

    Each Believe Peculiar To The Language Of The Others. Thus "Squaw,"

    "Papoose," Or Child,  Wigwam,  &C. &C.,  Though It Is Doubtful

    Whether They Belonged At All To Any Indian Dialect,  Are Much Used

    By Both White And Red Men In Their Intercourse. Many Words Are

    Derived From The French,  In This Species Of Prairie Nomaic.

    Partisan,  Brave,  &C. Are Of The Number.

The Leave-Taking Was General And Imposing. Each Male Pawnee Was

Sedulous To Omit No One Of The Strange Warriors In His Attentions,  And

Of Course The Ceremony Occupied Some Time. The Only Exception,  And

That Was Not General,  Was In The Case Of Dr. Battius. Not A Few Of The

Young Men,  It Is True,  Were Indifferent About Lavishing Civilities On

One Of So Doubtful A Profession,  But The Worthy Naturalist Found Some

Consolation In The More Matured Politeness Of The Old Men,  Who Had

Inferred,  That Though Not Of Much Use In War,  The Medicine Of The Big-

Knives Might Possibly Be Made Serviceable In Peace.

When All Of Middleton's Party Had Embarked,  The Trapper Lifted A Small

Bundle,  Which Had Lain At His Feet During The Previous Proceedings,

And Whistling Hector To His Side,  He Was The Last To Take His Seat.

The Artillerists Gave The Usual Cheers,  Which Were Answered By A Shout

From The Tribe,  And Then The Boat Was Shoved Into The Current,  And

Began To Glide Swiftly Down Its Stream.

A Long And A Musing,  If Not A Melancholy,  Silence Succeeded This

Departure. It Was First Broken By The Trapper,  Whose Regret Was Not

The Least Visible In His Dejected And Sorrowful Eye--

"They Are A Valiant And An Honest Tribe," He Said; "That Will I Say

Boldly In Their Favour; And Second Only Do I Take Them To Be To That

Once Mighty But Now Scattered People,  The Delawares Of The Hills. Ah's

Me,  Captain,  If You Had Seen As Much Good And Evil As I Have Seen In

These Nations Of Red-Skins,  You Would Know Of How Much Value Was A

Brave And Simple-Minded Warrior. I Know That Some Are To Be Found,  Who

Both Think And Say That An Indian Is But Little Better Than The Beasts

Of These Naked Plains. But It Is Needful To Be Honest In One's Self,

To Be A Fitting Judge Of Honesty In Others. No Doubt,  No Doubt They

Know Their Enemies,  And Little Do They Care To Show To Such Any Great

Confidence,  Or Love."

"It Is The Way Of Man," Returned The Captain; "And It Is Probable They

Are Not Wanting In Any Of His Natural Qualities."

"No,  No; It Is Little That They Want,  That Natur' Has Had To Give. But

As Little Does He Know Of The Temper Of A Red-Skin,  Who Has Seen But

One Indian,  Or One Tribe,  As He Knows Of The Colour Of Feathers Who

Has Only Looked Upon A Crow. Now,  Friend Steersman,  Just Give The Boat

A Sheer Towards Yonder,  Low,  Sandy Point,  And A Favour Will Be Granted

At A Short Asking."

"For What?" Demanded Middleton; "We Are Now In The Swiftest Of The

Current,  And By Drawing To The Shore We Shall Lose The Force Of The

Stream."

"Your Tarry Will Not Be Long," Returned The Old Man,  Applying His Own

Hand To The Execution Of That Which He Had Requested. The Oarsmen Had

Seen Enough Of His Influence,  With Their Leader,  Not To Dispute His

Wishes,  And Before Time Was Given For Further Discussion On The

Subject,  The Bow Of The Boat Had Touched The Land.

"Captain," Resumed The Other,  Untying His Little Wallet With Great

Deliberation,  And Even In A Manner To Show He Found Satisfaction In

The Delay,  "I Wish To Offer You A Small Matter Of Trade. No Great

Bargain,  Mayhap; But Still The Best That One,  Of Whose Hand The Skill

Of The Rifle Has Taken Leave,  And Who Has Become No Better Than A

Miserable Trapper,  Can Offer Before We Part."

"Part!" Was Echoed From Every Mouth,  Among Those Who Had So Recently

Shared His Dangers,  And Profited By His Care.

"What The Devil,  Old Trapper,  Do You Mean To Foot It To The

Settlements,  When Here Is A Boat That Will Float The Distance In Half

The Time,  That The Jackass,  The Doctor Has Given The Pawnee,  Could

Trot Along The Same."

"Settlements,  Boy! It Is Long Sin'