If I relied upon my memory, I could not tell when the French war ended. It had practically terminated, so far as our Valley was concerned, with the episode already related. Sir William Johnson was away much of the time with the army, and several of the boys older than myself--John Johnson, John Frey, and Adam Fonda among them--went with him. We heard vague news of battles at distant places, at Niagara, at Quebec, and elsewhere. Once, indeed, a band of Roman Catholic Indians appeared at Fort Herkimer and did bloody1 work before they were driven off, but this time there was no panic in the lower settlements.
Large troops of soldiers continually passed up and down on the river in the open seasons, some of them in very handsome clothes.
I remember one body of Highlanders in particular whose dress and mien2 impressed me greatly. Mr. Stewart, too, was much excited by the memories this noble uniform evoked3, and had the officers into the house to eat and drink with him. I watched and listened to these tall, fierce, bare-kneed warriors4 in awe5, from a distance. He brought out bottles from his rare stock of Madeira, and they drank it amid exclamations6 which, if I mistake not, were highly treasonable. This was almost the last occasion on which I heard references made to his descent, and he did his best to discourage them then. Most of these fine red-haired men, I learned afterward8 laid their bones on the bloody plateau overlooking Quebec.
Far fresher in my recollection than these rumors10 of war is the fact that my Tulp caught the small-pox, in the spring of '60, the malady11 having been spread by a Yankee who came up the Valley selling sap-spouts that were turned with a lathe12 instead of being whittled13. The poor little chap was carried off to a sheep-shed on the meadow clearing, a long walk from our house, and he had to remain there by himself for six weeks. At my urgent request, I was allowed to take his food to him daily, leaving it on a stone outside and then discreetly14 retiring. He would come out and get it, and then we would shout to each other across the creek15. I took up some of our dolls to him, but he did not get much comfort out of them, being unable to remember any of the stories which I illustrated16 with them, or to invent any for himself. At his suggestion I brought him instead a piece of tanned calf-skin, with a sailor's needle and some twine18, and the little fellow made out of this a lot of wallets for his friends, which had to be buried a long time before they could be safely used. I have one of these yet--mildewed with age, and most rudely stitched, but still a very precious possession.
Tulp came out finally, scarred and twisted so that he was ever afterward repellent to the eye, and as crooked19 as Richard the Third. I fear that Daisy never altogether liked him after this. To me he was dearer than ever, not because my heart was tenderer than hers, of course, but because women are more delicately made, and must perforce shudder21 at ugliness.
How happily the years went by! The pictures in my memory, save those of the snug22 winter rooms already referred to, are all of a beautiful Valley, embowered in green, radiant with sunshine--each day live-long with delight.
There was first of all in the spring, when the chorus of returning song-birds began, the gathering23 of maple-sap, still sacred to boyhood. The sheep were to be washed and sheared24, too, and the awkward, weak-kneed calves25 to be fed. While the spring floods ran high, ducks and geese covered the water, and muskrats26 came out, driven from their holes. Then appeared great flocks of pigeons, well fattened27 from their winter's sojourn28 in the South, and everybody, young and old, gave himself up to their slaughter29; while this lasted, the crack! crack! of guns was heard all the forenoon long, particularly if the day was cloudy and the birds were flying low--and ah! the buttered pigeon pies my aunt made, too.
As the floods went down, and the snow-water disappeared, the fishing began, first with the big, silly suckers, then with wiser and more valued fish. The woods became dry, and then in long, joyous30 rambles31 we set traps and snares32, hunted for nests among the low branches and in the marsh-grass, smoked woodchucks out of their holes, gathered wild flowers, winter-green, and dye-plants, or built great fires of the dead leaves and pithless, scattered33 branches, as boys to the end of time will delight to do.
When autumn came, there were mushrooms, and beech-nuts, butter-nuts, hickory-nuts, wild grapes, pucker-berries, not to speak of loads of elder-berries for making wine. And the pigeons, flying southward, darkened the sky once more; and then the horses were unshod for treading out the wheat, and we children fanned away the chaff35 with big palm-leaves; and the combs of honey were gathered and shelved; and the October husking began by our having the first kettleful of white corn, swollen36 and hulled37 by being boiled in lye of wood ashes, spooned steaming into our porringers of milk by my aunt.
Ah, they were happy times indeed!
Every other Sunday, granted tolerable weather, I crossed the river early in the morning to attend church with my mother and sisters. It is no reflection upon my filial respect, I hope, to confess that these are wearisome memories. We went in solemn procession, the family being invariably ready and waiting when I arrived. We sat in a long row in a pew quite in front of the slate-colored pulpit--my mother sitting sternly upright at the outer end, my tallest sister next, and so on, in regular progression, down to wretched baby Gertrude and me. The very color of the pew, a dull Spanish brown, was enough to send one to sleep, and its high, uncompromising back made all my bones ache.
Yet I was forced to keep awake, and more, to look deeply interested. I was a clergyman's son, and the ward9 of an important man; I was the best-dressed youngster in the congregation, and brought a slave of my own to church with me. So Dominie Romeyn always fixed38 his lack-lustre eye on me, and seemed to develop all his long, prosy arguments one by one to me personally. Even when he turned the hour-glass in front of him, he seemed to indicate that it was quite as much my affair as his. I dared not twist clear around, to see Tulp sitting among the negroes and Indians, on one of the backless benches under the end gallery; it was scarcely possible even to steal glances up to the side galleries, where the boys of lower degree were at their mischief39, and where fits of giggling40 and horse-play rose and spread from time to time until the tithing-man, old Conrad to wit, burst in and laid his hickory gad41 over their irreverent heads.
When at last I could escape without discredit42, and get across the river again, it was with the consoling thought that the next Sunday would be Mr. Stewart's Sunday.
This meant a good long walk with my patron. Sometimes we would go down to Mount Johnson, if Sir William was at home, or to Mr. Butler's, or some other English-speaking house, where I would hear much profitable conversation, and then be encouraged to talk about it during our leisurely43 homeward stroll. But more often, if the day were fine, we would leave roads and civilization behind us, and climb the gradual elevation44 to the north of the house, through the woodland to an old Indian trail which led to our favorite haunt--a wonderful ravine.
The place has still a local fame, and picnic parties go there to play at forestry45, but it gives scarcely a suggestion now of its ancient wildness. As my boyish eyes saw it, it was nothing short of awe-inspiring. The creek, then a powerful stream, had cut a deep gorge46 in its exultant47 leap over the limestone48 barrier. On the cliffs above, giant hemlocks49 seemed to brush the very sky with their black, tufted boughs50. Away below, on the shadowed bottomland, which could be reached only by feet trained to difficult descents, strange plants grew rank in the moisture of the waterfall, and misshapen rocks wrapped their nakedness in heavy folds of unknown mosses51 and nameless fern-growths. Above all was the ceaseless shout of the tumbling waters, which had in my ears ever a barbaric message from the Spirit of the Wilderness52.
The older Mohawks told Mr. Stewart that in their childhood this weird53 spot was held to be sacred to the Great Wolf, the totem of their tribe. Here, for more generations than any could count, their wise men had gathered about the mystic birch flame, in grave council of war. Here the tribe had assembled to seek strength of arm, hardness of heart, cunning of brain, for its warriors, in solemn incantations and offerings to the Unknown. Here hostile prisoners had been tortured and burned. Some mishap54 or omen20 or shift of superstitious55 feeling had led to the abandonment of this council place. Even the trail, winding56 its tortuous57 way from the Valley over the hills toward the Adirondack fastnesses, had been deserted58 for another long before--so long, in fact, that the young brave who chanced to follow the lounging tracks of the black bear down the creek to the gorge, or who turned aside from the stealthy pursuit of the eagle's flight to learn what this muffled59 roar might signify, looked upon the remains60 of the council fire's circle of stone seats above the cataract61, and down into the chasm62 of mist and foam63 underneath64, with no knowledge that they were a part of his ancestral history.
Mr. Stewart told me that when he first settled in the Valley, a disappointed and angry man, this gulf65 had much the satisfaction for him that men in great grief or wrath66 find in breasting a sharp storm. There was something congenial to his ugly unrest in this place, with its violent clamor, its swift dashing of waters, its dismal67 shadows, and damp chilliness68 of depths.
But we were fallen now upon calmer, brighter days. He was no longer the discouraged, sullen69 misanthropist, but had come to be instead a pacific, contented70, even happy, gentleman. And lo! the meaning of the wild gorge changed to reflect his mood. There was no stain of savagery71 upon the delight we had in coming to this spot. As he said, once listened rightly to, the music of the falling waters gave suggestions which, if they were sobering, were still not sad.
This place was all our own, and hither we most frequently bent72 our steps on Sundays, after the snow-water had left the creek, and the danger of lurking73 colds had been coaxed74 from the earth by the May sun. Here he would sit for hours on one of the stones in the great Druid-like circle which some dead generation of savages75 had toiled76 to construct. Sometimes I would scour7 the steep sides of the ravine and the moist bottom for curious plants to fetch to him, and he would tell me of their structure and design. More often I would sit at his feet, and he, between whiffs at his pipe, would discourse77 to me of the differences between his Old World and this new one, into which I providentially had been born. He talked of his past, of my future, and together with this was put forth78 an indescribable wealth of reminiscence, reflection, and helpful anecdote79.
On this spot, with the gaunt outlines of mammoth80 primeval trunks and twisted boughs above us, with the sacred memorials of extinct rites81 about us, and with the waters crashing down through the solitude82 beneath us on their way to turn Sir William's mill-wheel, one could get broad, comprehensive ideas of what things really meant. One could see wherein the age of Pitt differed from and advanced upon the age of Colbert, on this new continent, and could as in prophecy dream of the age of Jefferson yet to come. Did I as a lad feel these things? Truly it seems to me that I did.
Half a century before, the medicine-man's fire had blazed in this circle, its smoky incense83 crackling upward in offering to the gods of the pagan tribe. Here, too, upon this charred84, barren spot, had been heaped the blazing fagots about the limbs of the captive brave, and the victim bound to the stake had nerved himself to show the encircling brutes85 that not even the horrors of this death could shake his will, or wring86 a groan87 from his heaving breast. Here, too, above the unending din34 of the waterfall and the whisper of these hemlocks overhead, had often risen some such shrill-voiced, defiant88 deathsong, from the smoke and anguish89 of the stake, as that chant of the Algonquin son of Alknomuk which my grandchildren still sing at their school. This dead and horrible past of heathendom I saw as in a mirror, looking upon these council-stones.
The children's children of these savages were still in the Valley. Their council fires were still lighted, no further distant than the Salt Springs. In their hearts burned all the old lust17 for torture and massacre90, and the awful joys of rending91 enemies limb by limb. But the spell of Europe was upon them, and, in good part or otherwise, they bowed under it. So much had been gained, and two peaceful white people could come and talk in perfect safety on the ancient site of their sacrifices and cruelties.
Yet this spell of Europe, accomplishing so much, left much to be desired. It was still possible to burn a slave to death by legal process, here in our Valley; and it was still within the power of careless, greedy noblemen in London, who did not know the Mohawk from the Mississippi, to sign away great patents of our land, robbing honest settlers of their all. There was to come the spell of America, which should remedy these things. I cannot get it out of my head that I learned to foresee this, to feel and to look for its coming, there in the gorge as a boy.
But there are other reasons why I should remember the place--to be told later on.
The part little Daisy played in all these childhood enjoyments92 of mine is hardly to be described in words, much less portrayed93 in incidents. I can recall next to nothing to relate. Her presence as my sister, my comrade, and my pupil seems only an indefinable part of the sunshine which gilds94 these old memories. We were happy together--that is all.
I taught her to read and write and cipher95, and to tell mushrooms from toadstools, to eschew96 poisonous berries, and to know the weather signs. For her part, she taught me so much more that it seems effrontery97 to call her my pupil. It was from her gentle, softening98 companionship that I learned in turn to be merciful to helpless creatures, and to be honest and cleanly in my thoughts and talk. She would help me to seek for birds' nests with genuine enthusiasm, but it was her pity which prevented their being plundered99 afterward. Her pretty love for all living things, her delight in innocent, simple amusements, her innate100 repugnance101 to coarse and cruel actions--all served to make me different from the rough boys about me.
Thus we grew up together, glad in each other's constant company, and holding our common benefactor102, Mr. Stewart, in the greatest love and veneration103.
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1
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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evoked
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| [医]诱发的 | |
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4
warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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5
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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6
exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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7
scour
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| v.搜索；擦，洗，腹泻，冲刷 | |
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8
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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10
rumors
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| n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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11
malady
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| n.病，疾病(通常做比喻) | |
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12
lathe
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| n.车床，陶器，镟床 | |
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13
whittled
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| v.切，削（木头），使逐渐变小( whittle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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15
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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18
twine
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| v.搓，织，编饰；（使）缠绕 | |
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crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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omen
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| n.征兆，预兆；vt.预示 | |
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21
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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22
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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23
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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24
sheared
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| v.剪羊毛( shear的过去式和过去分词 )；切断；剪切 | |
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calves
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| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
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26
muskrats
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| n.麝鼠（产于北美，毛皮珍贵）( muskrat的名词复数 ) | |
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27
fattened
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| v.喂肥( fatten的过去式和过去分词 )；养肥（牲畜）；使（钱）增多；使（公司）升值 | |
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28
sojourn
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| v./n.旅居，寄居；逗留 | |
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29
slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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30
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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rambles
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| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的第三人称单数 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
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32
snares
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| n.陷阱( snare的名词复数 )；圈套；诱人遭受失败（丢脸、损失等）的东西；诱惑物v.用罗网捕捉，诱陷，陷害( snare的第三人称单数 ) | |
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33
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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34
din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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35
chaff
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| v.取笑，嘲笑；n.谷壳 | |
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36
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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37
hulled
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| 有壳的，有船身的 | |
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38
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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39
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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40
giggling
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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41
gad
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| n.闲逛；v.闲逛 | |
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42
discredit
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| vt.使不可置信；n.丧失信义；不信，怀疑 | |
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43
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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44
elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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45
forestry
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| n.森林学；林业 | |
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46
gorge
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| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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47
exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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48
limestone
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| n.石灰石 | |
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49
hemlocks
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| 由毒芹提取的毒药( hemlock的名词复数 ) | |
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50
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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51
mosses
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| n. 藓类, 苔藓植物 名词moss的复数形式 | |
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52
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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53
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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54
mishap
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| n.不幸的事，不幸；灾祸 | |
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55
superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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56
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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57
tortuous
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| adj.弯弯曲曲的，蜿蜒的 | |
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58
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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59
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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60
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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61
cataract
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| n.大瀑布，奔流，洪水，白内障 | |
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62
chasm
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| n.深坑，断层，裂口，大分岐，利害冲突 | |
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63
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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64
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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65
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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66
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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67
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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chilliness
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| n.寒冷，寒意，严寒 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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savagery
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| n.野性 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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coaxed
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的过去式和过去分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱 | |
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savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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anecdote
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| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
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mammoth
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| n.长毛象；adj.长毛象似的，巨大的 | |
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rites
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| 仪式，典礼( rite的名词复数 ) | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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incense
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| v.激怒；n.香，焚香时的烟，香气 | |
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charred
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| v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式)；烧焦 | |
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brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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wring
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| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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massacre
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| n.残杀，大屠杀；v.残杀，集体屠杀 | |
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rending
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| v.撕碎( rend的现在分词 )；分裂；（因愤怒、痛苦等而）揪扯（衣服或头发等）；（声音等）刺破 | |
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enjoyments
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| 愉快( enjoyment的名词复数 )； 令人愉快的事物； 享有； 享受 | |
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portrayed
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| v.画像( portray的过去式和过去分词 )；描述；描绘；描画 | |
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gilds
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| 把…镀金( gild的第三人称单数 )； 给…上金色； 作多余的修饰（反而破坏原已完美的东西）； 画蛇添足 | |
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cipher
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| n.零；无影响力的人；密码 | |
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eschew
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| v.避开，戒绝 | |
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effrontery
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| n.厚颜无耻 | |
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softening
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| 变软，软化 | |
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99
plundered
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| 掠夺，抢劫( plunder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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innate
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| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
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101
repugnance
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| n.嫌恶 | |
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102
benefactor
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| n. 恩人，行善的人，捐助人 | |
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veneration
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| n.尊敬，崇拜 | |
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