Oh, those savage Seminole robbers! they must be got rid of — they must be "moved" out.
As the cattle chanced to belong to lawyer Grubbs, I did not choose to interfere. I could tell my tale elsewhere; and, without making our presence known, my companion and I turned silently upon our heels, regained our horses, and went our way reflecting.
I entertained no doubt about the justness of our surmise — no doubt that Williams and Spence had employed the drunken Indians — no more that lawyer Grubbs had employed Williams and Spence, in this circuitous transaction.
The stream must be muddied upward — the poor Indian must be driven to desperation.
Note 1. It is art, not nature, that causes this peculiarity; it is done in the cradle.
Chapter Twenty Three
Reflections by the Way
At college, as elsewhere, I had been jeered for taking the Indian side of the question. Not unfrequently was I "twitted" with the blood of poor old Powhatan, which, after two hundred years of "whitening," must have circulated very sparsely in my veins. It was said I was not patriotic, since I did not join in the vulgar clamour, so congenial to nations when they talk of an enemy.
Nations are like individuals. To please them, you must be as wicked as they — feel the same sentiment, or speak it — which will serve as well — affect like loves and hates; in short, yield up independence of thought, and cry "crucify" with the majority.
This is the world’s man — the patriot of the times.
He who draws his deductions from the fountain of truth, and would try to stem the senseless current of a people’s prejudgments, will never be popular during life. Posthumously he may, but not this side the grave. Such need not seek the "living Fame" for which yearned the conqueror of Peru: he will not find it. If the true patriot desire the reward of glory, he must look for it only from posterity — long after his "mouldering bones" have rattled in the tomb.
Happily there is another reward. The mens conscia recti is not an idle phrase. There are those who esteem it — who have experienced both sustenance and comfort from its sweet whisperings.
Though sadly pained at the conclusions to which I was compelled — not only by the incident I had witnessed, but by a host of others lately heard of — I congratulated myself on the course I had pursued. Neither by word nor act, had I thrown one feather into the scale of injustice. I had no cause for self-accusation. My conscience cleared me of all ill-will towards the unfortunate people, who were soon to stand before me in the attitude of enemies.
My thoughts dwelt not long on the general question — scarcely a moment. That was driven out of my mind by reflections of a more painful nature — by the sympathies of friendship, of love. I thought only of the ruined widow, of her children, of Maümee. It were but truth to confess that I thought only of the last; but this thought comprehended all that belonged to her. All of hers were endeared, though she was the centre of the endearment.
And for all I now felt sympathy, sorrow — ay, a far more poignant bitterness than grief — the ruin of sweet hopes. I scarcely hoped ever to see them again.
Where were they now? Whither had they gone? Conjectures, apprehensions, fears, floated upon my fancy. I could not avoid giving way to dark imaginings. The men who had committed that crime were capable of any other, even the highest known to the calendar of justice. What had become of these friends of my youth?
My companion could throw no light on their history after that day of wrong. He "’sposed tha had move off to some oder clarin in da Indyen rezav, for folks nebba heern o’ um nebber no more arterward."
Even this was a conjecture. A little relief to the heaviness of my thoughts was imparted by the changing scene.
Hitherto we had been travelling through a pine forest. About noon we passed from it into a large tract of hommock, that stretched right and left of our course. The road or path we followed ran directly across it.
The scene became suddenly changed as if by a magic transformation. The soil under our feet was different, as also the foliage over our heads. The pines were no longer around us. Our view was interrupted on all sides by a thick frondage of evergreen trees — some with broad shining coriaceous leaves, as the magnolia, that here grew to its full stature. Alongside it stood the live-oak, the red mulberry, the Bourbon laurel, iron-wood, Halesia and Callicarpa, while towering above all rose the cabbage-palm, proudly waving its plumed crest in the breeze, as if saluting with supercilious nod its humbler companions beneath.
For a long while we travelled under deep shadow — not formed by the trees alone, but by their parasites as well — the large grape-vine loaded with leaves — the coiling creepers of smilax and hedera — the silvery tufts of tillandsia shrouded the sky from our sight. The path was winding and intricate. Prostrate trunks often carried it in a circuitous course, and often was it obstructed by the matted trellis of the muscadine, whose gnarled limbs stretched from tree to tree like the great stay-cables of a ship.
The scene was somewhat gloomy, yet grand and impressive. It chimed with my feelings at the moment; and soothed me even more than the airy open of the pine-woods.
Having crossed this belt of dark forest, near its opposite edge we came upon one of these singular ponds already described — a circular basin surrounded by hillocks and rocks of testaceous formation — an extinct water volcano. In the barbarous jargon of the Saxon settler, these are termed sinks, though most inappropriately, for where they contain water, it is always of crystalline brightness and purity.
The one at which we had arrived was nearly full of the clear liquid. Our horses wanted drink — so did we. It was the hottest hour of the day. The woods beyond looked thinner and less shady. It was just the time and place to make a halt; and, dismounting, we prepared to rest and refresh ourselves.
Jake carried a capacious haversack, whose distended sides — with the necks of a couple of bottles protruding from the pouch — gave proof of the tender solicitude we had left behind us.
The ride had given me an appetite, the heat had caused thirst; but the contents of the haversack soon satisfied the one, and a cup of claret, mingled with water from the cool calcareous fountain, gave luxurious relief to the other.
A cigar was the natural finish to this al fresco repast; and, having lighted one, I lay down upon my back, canopied by the spreading branches of an umbrageous magnolia.
I watched the blue smoke as it curled upward among the shining leaves, causing the tiny insects to flutter away from their perch.
My emotions grew still — thought became lull within my bosom — the powerful odour from the coral cones and large wax-like blossoms added its narcotic influences; and I fell asleep.
Chapter Twenty Four
A Strange Apparition
I had been but a few minutes in this state of unconsciousness, when I was awakened by a plunge, as of some one leaping into the pond. I was not startled sufficiently to look around, or even to open my eyes.
"Jake is having a dip," thought I; "an excellent idea — I shall take one myself presently."