Fortunately for Captain Trench1, and indeed for the whole party, the execution of his plan was rendered unnecessary by an incident the full significance of which requires that we should transport the reader to another, but not far distant, part of the beautiful wilderness2 of Newfoundland.
Under the boughs3 of a spreading larch4, on the summit of a mound5 which commanded a wide prospect6 of plain and morass7, sat an Indian woman. She might have been taken for an old woman, so worn and thin was she, and so hollow were her cheeks; but the glossy8 blackness of her hair, the smoothness of her brow, and the glitter of her dark eyes told that she was yet in her youthful years.
She sat perfectly9 listless, with a vacant yet steadfast10 expression on her thin features, as if she were dreaming with her eyes open. The view before her was such as might indeed arouse the admiration11 of the most stolid12; but it was evident that she took no notice of it, for her eyes were fixed13 on the clouds above the horizon.
Long she sat, almost motionless, thus gazing into space. Then she began to sing in a low sweet voice a plaintive14 air, which rose and fell for some time more like a tuneful wail15 than a song. Suddenly, and in the very midst of her song, she burst into a wild laugh, which increased in vehemence16 until it rang through the forest in a scream so terrible that it could be accounted for by nothing but insanity17. That the poor creature’s reason was indeed dethroned became evident from her subsequent movements, for after falling backwards18 from the exhaustion19 produced by her effort, or, it might be, from the sheer weakness resulting from partial starvation, she got up and began quietly to cut up and devour20 raw a small bird which she had killed with a stone. Strengthened a little by this food, she rose and made a futile21 effort to draw more closely around her a little shawl, or rather kerchief of deerskin, which covered her shoulders, shuddering22 with cold as she did so.
Her short leathern gown and leggings were so soiled and torn that the ornamental23 work with which they had been originally decorated was almost invisible, and the moccasins she had worn hung in mere24 shreds25 upon her little feet.
Rising slowly, and with a weary sigh, the poor creature descended26 the side of the hill and entered the forest at the foot of it.
Lying concealed27 in a neighbouring thicket28 an Indian youth had watched the motions of the girl. It was evident, from his gaze of surprise, that he had just discovered her. It was equally evident, from his expression of perplexity, that he hesitated to intrude29 upon one who, he could not help seeing, was mad; but when she moved forward he followed her with the soft wary30 tread of a panther.
At first the girl’s step was slow and listless. Then it became rapid. A fit of excitement seemed to come on, and she began to run. Presently the excitement seemed to have passed, for she fell again into the listless walk. After a time she sat down, and recommenced her low wailing31 song.
At this point, taking advantage of a neighbouring thicket, the young Indian drew as near to the girl as possible, and, in a low voice, uttered the Indian word for—“Rising Sun!”
Starting violently, the girl turned round, stretched out both arms, and, with intense hope expressed in every feature, took a step forward. In an instant the expression vanished. Another terrible scream resounded32 in the air, and, turning quickly away, she fled like a hunted deer.
The young man pursued, but he evidently did not try to overtake her—only to keep her in sight. The maniac33 did not choose her course, but ran straight before her, leaping over fallen trees and obstructions34 with a degree of agility35 and power that seemed marvellous. Sometimes she shrieked37 as she ran, sometimes she laughed fiercely, but she never looked back. At last she came to a small lake—about a quarter of a mile wide. She did not attempt to skirt it, but went straight in with a wild rush, and, being well able to swim, struck out for the opposite shore. The young man followed without hesitation38, but could not overtake her, and when he landed she had disappeared in the woods beyond.
Skilled to follow a trail, however, the youth soon recovered sight of her, but still did not try to overtake her—only to keep her in view.
At length the fire which had sustained the poor creature seemed to have burned itself out. In attempting to leap over a low bush Rising Sun stumbled, fell, and lay as if dead.
The Indian youth came up and, raising her in his arms, looked very sadly into her face. She still breathed, but gave no other sign of life. The youth, therefore, lifted her from the ground. He was tall and strong. She was small in person, and reduced almost to skin and bone. He carried her in his arms as though she had been but a little child, and, an hour later, bore her into the Indian camp, for which for many days past she had been making—straight as the arrow flies from the bow.
He carried her at once to the chief’s tent and laid his burden softly down, at the same time explaining how and where he had found her.
Bearpaw sprang up with an air of excitement which an Indian seldom displays. Evidently his feelings were deeply touched, as he knelt and raised the girl’s head. Then he ordered his chief squaw to supply Rising Sun with some warm food.
It was evening when this occurred. Most of the people were supping in their tents. No one was with the chief save his own family and two of his braves.
When the poor maniac revived under the influence of the warm food, she started up with wild looks and sought again to fly, but was forcibly detained by one of the braves.
“Oh, let me go—let me go!—to his mother!” she wailed39 piteously, for she felt herself to be helpless in the youth’s strong grasp.
“Has Rising Sun forgotten Bearpaw?” said the chief tenderly, as he stood before her.
“Yes—yes—no. I have not forgotten,” she said, passing her hand over her brow; “but, oh! let me go to her before I die!”
“Rising Sun shall not die. She is among friends now. The pale-faced enemies who killed Little Beaver40 can do her no harm.”
“Killed him—enemies!” murmured the poor girl, as if perplexed41; then, quickly, “Yes—yes—he is dead. Does not Rising Sun know it? Did she not see it with her own eyes? He was killed—killed!”
“Rising Sun,” said the chief, in a tone which the girl could not choose but obey, “tell us who killed him?”
“Killed him? No one killed him!” she answered, with a return of the perplexed look. “He missed his footing and fell over the cliff, and the Great Spirit took him.”
“Then the palefaces had nothing to do with it?” asked the chief eagerly.
“Oh! yes; the palefaces had to do with it. They were there, and Rising Sun saw all that they did; but they did not see her, for when she saw them coming she hid herself, being in great fear. And she knew that Little Beaver was dead. No man could fall from such a cliff and live. Dead—dead! Yes, he is dead. Oh! let me go.”
“Not yet, Rising Sun. What did the palefaces do? Did they take his scalp?”
“No; oh! no. The palefaces were kind. They lifted him tenderly. They dug his grave. They seemed as if they loved him like myself. Then they went away, and then—Rising Sun forgets! She remembers running and bounding like the deer. She cannot—she forgets!”
The poor girl stopped speaking, and put her hand to her brow as if to restrain the tumult43 of her thoughts. Then, suddenly, she looked up with a wild yet intelligent smile.
“Yes, she remembers now. Her heart was broken, and she longed to lay it on the breast of Little Beaver’s mother—who loved him so well. She knew where the wigwams of Bearpaw stood, and she ran for them as the bee flies when laden44 with honey to its home. She forgets much. Her mind is confused. She slept, she fell, she swam, she was cold—cold and hungry—but—but now she has come home. Oh, let me go!”
“Let her go,” said the chief, in a low voice.
The young brave loosed his hold, and Rising Sun bounded from the tent.
It was dark by that time, but several camp-fires threw a lurid45 glare over the village, so that she had no difficulty in finding the hut of her dead husband’s mother, for, during the interchange of several visits between members of the two tribes, she had become very familiar with the camp. All ignorant of the poor maniac’s arrival, for the news had not yet spread, the mother of Little Beaver sat embroidering46 a moccasin with dyed quill-work. The traces of profound grief were on her worn face, and her meek47 eyes were dim as she raised them to see who lifted the curtain of the tent so violently.
Only one word was uttered by Rising Sun as she sprang in and fell on her knees before the old woman:—“Mother!”
No cry was uttered, not even an expression of surprise moved the old woman’s face; but her ready arms were extended, and the girl laid her head, with a long-drawn sigh, upon the old bosom48.
Long did she lie there that night, while a tender hand smoothed her coal-black hair, and pressed the thin cheek to a warm throbbing49 heart, which feared to move lest the girl’s rest should be disturbed; but there was no need to fear that. Even the loving old heart could no longer warm the cheek that was slowly but surely growing cold. When the face was at last turned anxiously towards the firelight it was seen that a rest which could not be disturbed had been found at last—for Rising Sun was dead.
While this solemn scene was enacting50 in the old mother’s tent, a very different one was taking place in the cave prison, where the captives still sat, bound hand and foot leaning against the wall.
Captain Trench and his son sat in front of them. A small fire burned in the cave, the smoke of which found an exit among the crevices51 of the high roof. It cast a lurid light on the faces of the men and on projections52 of the wall, but left the roof in profound darkness.
The captain was still much excited, for the moment for his desperate venture was rapidly approaching.
“Now, Grummidge,” he said, in a low but earnest voice, “it’s of no use your objectin’ any more, for I’ve made up my mind to do it.”
“Which means,” returned the seaman53, “that for the sake of savin’ my life, you’re a-goin’ to risk your own and the lives of all consarned. Now it’s my opinion that as the sayin’ goes, of two evils a man should choose the least. It’s better that I should die quietly than that the whole of us should die fightin’, and, maybe, killin’ savages54 as well, which would be of no manner of use, d’ye see. I can only die once, you know, so I advise ye to give it up, an’ leave the whole matter in the hands of Providence55.”
“Not at all,” said Squill stoutly56. “It’s my opinion that when they’ve kilt you, Grummidge, they’ll be like tigers when they’ve tasted blood: they’ll want to kill the rest of us. No; I’ve made up me mind to bolt, and, if need be, fight, an’ so has all the rest on us—so heave ahead, cappen, an’ tell us what we’ve got to do.”
“Well, boys, here it is,” said the captain. “You see this weapon.” He took up the heavy bludgeon that Oliver had made for himself on commencing his travels in Newfoundland. “Well, I’ve brought this here every time I’ve come just to get the two sentries57 accustomed to see me with it. This is your last night on earth, Grummidge, so I’m goin’ to pay you an extra visit about midnight, by way of sayin’ farewell. As I pass the sentries—who are quite used to me now—I’ll fetch the first one I come to such a crack with this here that he will give no alarm. Before the other has time to wink58 I’ll treat him to the same. It’s a mean sort o’ thing to do, but necessity has no law, so I’ve made up my mind to go through with it.”
“It’ll be a bad look-out if you do,” said Grummidge.
“It’ll be a worse look-out if I don’t,” replied the captain. “Then, when that’s done,” he continued, “I’ll cut your lashin’s, an’ we’ll crowd all sail for the woods, where I have already concealed some arms an’ dried deer’s-meat, an’ if we can’t get fair off and make for the east coast, we’ll get on the top o’ some mound or rock an’ show these Redskins what English seamen59 can do when they’re hard pressed.”
“An’ have Master Paul an’ Hendrick agreed to fall in wi’ this mad plan?” asked Grummidge.
“No, I can’t say they have. To say truth, considerin’ that Hendrick’s a relation o’ the Redskins an’ that Master Paul is his friend, I thought it best to say nothing to them about it. So I’ll—”
He was interrupted here by the sudden entrance of Hendrick and Paul themselves, accompanied by Bearpaw and the sentries. To one of the latter the chief gave an order, and the man, drawing his knife, advanced to Grummidge. The seaman instinctively61 shrank from him, but was agreeably surprised on having his bonds cut. The others having also been liberated62, the chief said:—
“My pale-faced brothers are free.”
“Yes, lads,” said Paul, heartily63 grasping Grummidge by the hand. “God has sent deliverance at the eleventh hour—you are all free.”
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1
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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larch
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| n.落叶松 | |
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mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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7
morass
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| n.沼泽，困境 | |
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8
glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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9
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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10
steadfast
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| adj.固定的，不变的，不动摇的；忠实的；坚贞不移的 | |
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11
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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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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14
plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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16
vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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insanity
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| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
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18
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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20
devour
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| v.吞没；贪婪地注视或谛听，贪读；使着迷 | |
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21
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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22
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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ornamental
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| adj.装饰的；作装饰用的；n.装饰品；观赏植物 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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shreds
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| v.撕碎，切碎( shred的第三人称单数 )；用撕毁机撕毁（文件） | |
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26
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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intrude
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| vi.闯入；侵入；打扰，侵扰 | |
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30
wary
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| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
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wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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32
resounded
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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maniac
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| n.精神癫狂的人；疯子 | |
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obstructions
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| n.障碍物( obstruction的名词复数 )；阻碍物；阻碍；阻挠 | |
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agility
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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36
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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39
wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40
beaver
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| n.海狸，河狸 | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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42
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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43
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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44
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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lurid
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| adj.可怕的；血红的；苍白的 | |
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46
embroidering
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| v.（在织物上）绣花( embroider的现在分词 )；刺绣；对…加以渲染（或修饰）；给…添枝加叶 | |
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47
meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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48
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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49
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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50
enacting
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| 制定（法律），通过（法案）( enact的现在分词 ) | |
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51
crevices
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| n.（尤指岩石的）裂缝，缺口( crevice的名词复数 ) | |
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52
projections
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| 预测( projection的名词复数 )； 投影； 投掷； 突起物 | |
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53
seaman
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| n.海员，水手，水兵 | |
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54
savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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56
stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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57
sentries
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| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
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wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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seamen
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| n.海员 | |
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wans
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| vt.& vi.（使）变苍白，（使）呈病态（wan的第三人称单数形式） | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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liberated
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| a.无拘束的，放纵的 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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