Much of his time was devoted to accompanying Sir Amory on his hunting expeditions, during which the youth's marvellous skill in tracking game and his fearlessness in moments of peril won for him both admiration and respect.
On days when there was no hunting he busied himself with making bows, arrows, or snow-shoes, and in receiving visits from the green-coated foresters, whose tastes and pursuits were so similar to his own. He taught them some things, but learned more than he taught; and chiefest of all the things that he learned was to load and fire a musket. Thus was solved the mystery of the white man's thunder-stick, and he could now smile as he recalled the melancholy experience of Tasquanto and himself in attempting to fire a salute.
So some months were happily passed, and it seemed as though our young American would spend the remainder of his life as an English forester. Then all of a sudden there occurred an amazing thing, by which he was rendered so unhappy that he no longer cared to live if the balance of his days must be passed under existing conditions.
Most welcome of all the guests at Nahma's lodge was the little lady Betty, who was sometimes taken thither by her father mounted in front of him on his great Flemish horse Baldric. A strong friendship had sprung up between the child and the young Indian, and she was never happier than during the hour occasionally spent with him. She always brought some little gift, and he never failed to have ready a unique bit of his own handiwork to offer in return. Once it was a wee bow and a quiver of small stone-headed arrows. Again he presented her with the beautifully dressed skin of an otter. At length he completed a pair of tiny snow-shoes gayly fringed and ornamented. For some days after they were finished he waited expectantly the coming of his little friend, and as she failed to appear, he finally decided to take his gift to the castle.
Now, it happened that Sir Amory, being called by some business to the near-by city of Bristol, had taken his wife and little daughter with him for a brief visit, from which they had just returned. As was usual on such occasions, they had brought back a number of trifling gifts for members of the household, and also one for the young Indian whom they held in such high esteem.
The city of Bristol, more than any other in England, was building up a trade with the New World. While this trade was more especially with the Virginia plantations, it was gradually extending northward along the American coast. Thus a ship, recently returned, had voyaged as far north as the French settlements, trading with natives wherever found on her way. This ship had brought back many curious things, among which was an object of native make that Sir Amory, having his Indian guest in his mind, purchased on sight.
"It may interest him," he said to his wife, "and, at any rate, it will be something for Betty to take him when next she and I ride to his lodge." So this present was fetched home with the others, and was to have been carried out to Nahma on the very day of his appearance at the castle.
On learning that the Indian waited outside with a gift for Betty, Sir Amory ordered him to be brought in. The knight and his lady together with several guests were grouped near the huge fireplace in the great hall as Nahma entered and, advancing gravely, extended a hand to his host. Then, looking about inquiringly, he pronounced the single word "Betty."
"I' faith!" laughed the knight, "the young man hath quickly recognized the most important personage of this establishment and will have dealings with none other. Let Mistress Betty be brought."
As soon as the little girl appeared, the young Indian, kneeling gracefully, presented her with his gift. After the tiny snow-shoes had been passed from hand to hand for inspection and their use had been explained, Lady Effingham said,—
"Now, Betty, give him the present fetched from Bristol."
Thus saying she placed a small packet in the child's hand, and the latter, advancing shyly, handed it to Nahma. With a smiling face the young warrior undid the wrappings of the packet until its contents were exposed. Suddenly his expression changed to one of consternation and bewilderment. For a moment he held the object in his hands gazing at it wildly and in evident perplexity. Then he uttered a great cry and a gush of tears filled his eyes. He gasped and seemed about to speak; but, words failing him, he turned and fled from the hall, leaving its occupants amazed at his strange actions.
"It is doubtless a native charm of some kind," quoth the knight, breaking the silence, "and a powerful one at that, for never did I see a man so upset by a trifle. After a little, when he has had time to quiet down, I will question him concerning his agitation, but until then we must amuse ourselves with conjecture."
In the mean time Nahma had not paused in his flight until reaching his own lodge. There he sat down and examined his newly acquired prize with minutest care, alternately laughing and crying as he did so. At length, apparently satisfied with his inspection, he said aloud in the long forgotten tongue of the Wampanoags,—
"Truly it is my father's wampum, and I am Nahma, the son of Longfeather."
It was indeed the Belt of Seven Totems, thus marvellously restored to him from whose unconscious form it had been taken nearly three years earlier in the far-away land of the Iroquois. Not only had Nahma thus regained his father's badge of authority, but at sight of it the memory of his earlier years, lost to him ever since he had been struck down by Miantinomo, was abruptly and fully restored. He recalled who he was and found himself once more in command of his native tongue. He also remembered every incident of his journey to the country of the Maqua as though it had been undertaken but the day before. He even remembered lying down for a brief rest after eating his supper on the western bank of the Shatemuc; but beyond that came a blank, and his next memory was of Aeana in the lodge of Kaweras.
As these things passed through his mind in rapid review, he was also whelmed by a great wave of home-sickness. The voices of his own people rang in his ears, and he heard the plash of waves on the beach at Montaup. The scent of burning cedar from the evening camp-fires was in his nostrils, and he felt the spring of brown pine needles beneath his feet as he threaded the dim forest trails of his native land. In a bark canoe he once more ran the foaming rapids of great rivers, or, lying beside Tasquanto, he was lulled to sleep by the roar of mighty cataracts. So distinct were the pictures thus flashed before him by the magic belt that he had no longer a wish to live unless he could once more gaze upon them in reality. Every other feeling was merged in an intense desire to regain his own country and rejoin his own people.
At length the longing for these things became so great that the youth sprang to his feet, determined to set forth at once in quest of them. His reason told him that such an adventure was well-nigh hopeless; but the wampum belt urged him forward and persuaded him that by some means he would succeed. So Nahma departed forever from the lodge that, but an hour earlier, had seemed his home for life, and set forth on the tremendous journey. He took with him only his weapons, a fur cloak, the fire-bag that had once belonged to Aeana, and the Belt of Seven Totems girded about his body next his skin.
As he emerged from the lodge he stood for a moment irresolute. Whither should he turn? What path would lead him to Montaup? Then the last word uttered in his hearing by Betty's mother rang again in his ears. It was "Bristol." From there the belt had but recently come, and there he would begin to retrace its mysterious course to the place where he had lost it. He had heard the foresters speak of Bristol, and he knew that it lay in the direction of the setting sun. What Bristol was, or how far away, he did not know, any more than what he should do upon getting there. It was enough that his first step was decided upon, and without a single backward glance he began his long homeward journey.
An hour later Sir Amory on his good horse Baldric, and with mistress Betty in his arms, rode up to the deserted lodge and uttered a cheery call for its supposed occupant to come forth. The knight was puzzled at finding the place empty; and for several days thereafter he caused search to be made for its recent owner. But nothing came of this, nor for many years did he hear a word concerning the disappearance and whereabouts of Massasoit.
That night Nahma slept in the wood, as lonely and friendless a human being as could be found in all the world, but so happy in his regained memory and in the knowledge that he, like others, could now lay claim to home and people, towards whom he was journeying, that nothing else mattered. On the morrow he struck the broad trail of a highway that led to the westward, and thereafter he followed it. Noting that his appearance attracted attention from the few travellers whom he met, he determined to procure a suit of clothing that would render him less conspicuous.
He dreaded to approach a house, and was at a loss how to accomplish his purpose until at dusk of the second day. Then he ran across a camp-fire surrounded by a group of dark-skinned persons, who for a moment he believed to be people of his own race. He did not discover his mistake until he was within the circle of fire-light and it was too late to retreat. So he put on a bold face, accepted an invitation to eat with the gypsies, and strove hard, though without success, to understand what they said.
They in turn were as much puzzled by him as he was by them; but this did not prevent them from exchanging a well-worn suit of clothing for Nahma's fur robe when he intimated by signs his willingness to make such a trade. As soon as he procured these things he put them on over his buckskin garments; and, as a dilapidated cap had been thrown in to complete the bargain, he was so thoroughly disguised that even Sir Amory would have failed to recognize him.
The gypsies invited their guest to cast his fortunes with them, and proposed among themselves to compel him to do so in any event. He neither declined nor accepted their offer, but after a while lay down to sleep near their fire, as though willing, at any rate, to remain with them for the present. Thus they were much chagrined to find in the morning that he had disappeared without leaving a trace to show which way he had gone.
So it happened that our wanderer came at length to the snug little seaport of Bristol, at that time second in importance only to London. And thus was taken the first step of his momentous journey. Dusk was falling as he entered the place, and for some time he wandered aimlessly through its narrow streets.
Then, unexpectedly, he came to the water front and discovered ships, some under sail and others anchored in the stream. His heart leaped at sight of them, for he supposed that all ships passed to and from his own country. Therefore if he could only find one about to depart, and contrive to get on board, the second and longest step of his journey would be provided for.
He managed to exchange his bow and arrows for a meal in a small public-house near the water, and when he had eaten it he again strolled outside looking for a place in which to pass the night. It was now quite dark, and, without going far, he lay down to sleep under the lee of a boat that was drawn up on one of the wharves.
Some hours later he was awakened by sounds of shouting and scuffling close at hand, and sprang to his feet in alarm. As he did so a rough voice called out,—
"Here's another stout fellow! Seize him, lads, and hustle him along."
Immediately Nahma was surrounded, and, despite his furious struggles, was quickly overthrown and securely bound.
For a short space our lad was heart-broken by this rude awakening from his dreams of freedom and of a return to his own country. Half dazed as he was, he had fought desperately; and now, hustled along in company with a dozen other unfortunates, all bound and suffering from rough handling, his sole thought was of how he could soonest put an end to the life that he was resolved not to pass in slavery. He recalled with satisfaction the dirk that, hidden in his clothing, still remained to him, and was determined to use it at the earliest opportunity, first on such of his present enemies as he could reach and then on himself.
Suddenly his sombre reflections were interrupted and given a decided change of direction by finding himself crowded, together with his wretched companions, into a boat. No sooner had it received them than it was rowed out to the mouth of the harbor where stood a ship under easy sail.
From the moment of realizing that he was in a boat Nahma was filled with a wild hope, and when he was transferred from it to the deck of a waiting ship this hope was confirmed. For some reason utterly beyond his comprehension he had once more been kidnapped, but only to be placed in the very position he had longed to attain.
The ways of the white man were past understanding. Why had he been brought by force from his own country? and why should an equal amount of anxiety now be shown, and even a greater amount of force be used, to carry him back to it? He could not imagine, nor did he care. It was enough that the second step of his homeward journey had been taken for him and that the object he had so ardently desired was accomplished.
Nahma would gladly have remained on deck and attempted to make himself useful without a thought of escaping or of doing harm to those who had unwittingly so aided his plans. But this was not permitted, and he was bundled below with the poor wretches who had been ruthlessly torn from their homes to be taken as bondsmen to the Virginia plantations.
So great was the demand for labor in that colony that criminals were sent there to work out their sentences and debtors to labor until their indebtedness was discharged. In fact, all of whom society wished to rid itself were shipped across the ocean. Men anxious to try their fortunes in the New World but too poor to pay their passage went out under contract, to serve any master who would purchase their time until they had made good the money thus advanced. But even these sources of supply were not sufficient to satisfy the demand for laborers, and unscrupulous shipmasters found great profit in gathering up unsuspecting citizens by means of press-gangs sent ashore on the eve of departure, getting them on board, and sailing at once for the distant scene of their enforced servitude.
Thus Nahma now found himself in a motley company of mechanics, sailors, small tradesmen, 'prentice lads, and others, all being carried away against their will and without the knowledge of their friends. Some had left dependent families unprovided for, while others were parted from sweethearts or newly married wives. To us of to-day all this sounds incredible; but the age of "good Queen Bess" was an age of cruelty, when even the best thinking persons only shrugged their shoulders on hearing of such things, and thanked their stars that they were not in similar plight.
Some of the group now surrounding Nahma in the small space allotted to them, which was dimly lighted by a vilely smoking lamp, were groaning, some weeping, others were bemoaning their hard fate, and all were as wretchedly unhappy as it is possible for mortals to be. That is, all except our young Indian, who was overjoyed at finding himself on a ship that he believed would carry him back to his own country and people.
The kidnapped men were kept below for several days, or until land was out of sight and the ship was ploughing her slow way across the Bay of Biscay; but after that they were allowed on deck from sunrise until dark. As Nahma, buoyed by hope and eager anticipation, was the only one among them who was not seasick, he was compelled to act as steward of their mess. At first his duties in this capacity were light and he performed them willingly, but later, when his companions had gained their sea-legs, they forced all sorts of disagreeable tasks upon him, and treated him with such cruelty that his hatred of white men was increased a hundred-fold.
They were much puzzled over his nationality, which he never revealed, though often questioned concerning it. Most of them declared that he was a gypsy, while others insisted that he was of negro blood and called him "Guinea." The captain of the ship while strongly suspecting him to be an American would not admit it, but spoke of him as a "Jack Spaniard."
So slow was the weary voyage that it was two months to a day before the westerly winds against which they were beating brought to Nahma's sensitive nostrils the first scent of land. That evening he hid himself on deck so that he might sniff the air all night, and at daybreak he was rewarded by the sight of land lying cloud-like on the western horizon.
During that day he was so inattentive to his enforced duties as to win many a blow and kick from his brutal masters. Although the young Indian's blood boiled with rage, he did not attempt to resent these things, but submitted to them with an assumed meekness that ill-expressed his feelings. He felt that he could afford to abide his time, for was he not almost within reach of his own people? At the same time deep down in his heart he vowed a bitter vengeance against those who thus degraded him, if ever the opportunity should come. And it came sooner than he expected, though not through his own people, as he had hoped.
Before the features of the landfall became recognizable the wind hauled to the eastward and the weather thickened, with every indication of a storm. Thus the skipper was greatly relieved shortly before night to find his ship running into a broad bay between two distant headlands that he believed to be the capes of Virginia, though in reality they were those of Delaware. Without attempting to discover the mouth of the James, he sought only a lee under which the night might be passed in safety.
When this was found and the ship was snugly anchored for the first time since leaving Bristol, not only the captain but his entire company began a carouse to celebrate this successful termination of their perilous voyage. Liquor flowed freely in the cabin, and was served forward in such generous measure that a liberal portion even found its way to the wretched bondmen who expected shortly to be sold into years of servitude. Thus by midnight nearly every man on board was helplessly drunk, and most of them were asleep.
Up to this hour the storm had steadily increased in violence, and the ship, though still safe, was surging heavily at her cables. At the same time but a single figure was in motion on her decks, and he was creeping forward as stealthily as though fearful of being discovered. Gaining the bow undetected, he bent for a minute over one of the straining cables, and when he arose two of its hempen strands had been severed. Then he stepped quickly to the other, drew his keen blade across it once, twice, three times, and with the last stroke it parted. The one first cut gave way almost at the same moment, and the freed ship started up the bay like a restive steed just given a loose rein.
With his long-meditated design thus successfully accomplished, Nahma darted back to his place of hiding and awaited developments. He had long since discovered that he was destined to be sold into slavery among those white men who had settled far to the southward of his own country. Tales of their injustice and cruelty towards the natives had reached Montaup even before he left there, and had filled his boyish heart with a fierce indignation. Now he was determined not to fall alive into their hands, and believed that on this night or never he must effect an escape. He could not swim to shore because of the distance and the heavy seas. All the ship's boats were inboard and securely lashed, so that he could not make off in one of them. Consequently his only feasible plan seemed to be to let the ship herself drift until she fetched up on some beach, from which he might gain the safe cover of the woods. He had never experienced a shipwreck and knew nothing of its terrors. Even if he had he would not have hesitated to carry out his desperate plan.
The captain of the drifting ship, too hard-headed to be overcome by any amount of liquor, was the first to become aware that her cables had parted. He stumbled on deck, bawling out orders that were mingled with strange oaths, and, gaining the wheel, put his vessel's head before the wind that she might scud without danger of being thrown on her beam ends. Then he bellowed for assistance, but it came tardily, and was of slight avail. There was but one spare anchor, and when finally it was broken out, bent on, and got overboard, the ship was so far in the open that it could not hold.
So the helpless vessel drifted for several hours, and shortly before daybreak struck with such force that all of her masts went by the board. Then ensued a period of horrible crashing, grinding, and pounding, with which were mingled the shrieks of drowning men. Some of the strongest swimmers reached the shore, bruised and breathless but still alive, and foremost among them was the almost naked form of him who had caused the disaster.
Battered and beaten by roaring breakers, weak and nearly perished with cold, Nahma was at the same time upheld by such a spirit of exultation as he had never before known. He was once more free and once more lying on the beloved soil of his native land. No sooner had he regained his breath after being flung on the beach than he struggled to his feet and staggered to the safe shelter of a forest that grew almost to the water's edge. He did not look back nor give a thought to what was taking place behind him. The white men who would have sold him into slavery might care for themselves, as might those who had so recently degraded him by their blows and curses.
An hour later our young Indian was seated by a camp-fire of the Saganaga or Delawares, and telling them in sign language, supplemented by the few words they had in common, of the wonderful treasure that the sea had brought to their very doors.
They, recognizing the splendid belt of wampum that he wore, listened to him with closest attention; and when he had finished, all the able-bodied men of the village hastened to the scene of the wreck, leaving Nahma to the kindly hospitality of those who remained behind.
That night there was no village in the Delaware nation, nor probably on the entire Atlantic coast, so rich in scalps and plunder as the one in which the son of Longfeather was an honored guest.
This utter destruction of the ship and of her entire company gave great satisfaction not only to the young Indian who had suffered so much on her but to the Saganaga, who were at that time feeling very bitter against white men on account of the recent stealing of a number of their tribe to be sold into slavery. It had been the usual case of a cordial welcome to the strangers from beyond the sea, a brisk trade by which the confidence of the Indians was won, and then a sudden sailing with some twenty of them on board. Now, thanks to Nahma, the Lenni Lenape were revenged and their hearts were lightened of a burden.
Also they had acquired wealth beyond their wildest dreams, and were very grateful to him who had thrown it in their way. He did not tell them that he had been a slave in the white man's country, for he was determined to keep that humiliating knowledge to himself. So he only gave them to understand that he too had been kidnapped, and let them imagine it to have been of recent occurrence.
They had at once recognized the Belt of Seven Totems that Nahma wore diagonally across his breast when first appearing among them, though no member of their tribe had ever before seen it. They, however, knew it from description; for, among American Indians, tribal totems and the belts of principal chieftains were as well known as are the banners of European nations, and the coats of arms of their rulers, among white men. The Saganaga also knew that none but Longfeather or his eldest son might wear the Belt of Seven Totems, and so they treated Nahma with every mark of consideration.
Finding that he was desirous of returning at once to his own country, they furnished him with clothing, weapons, and a belt of wampum bearing the likeness of a serpent, which he was to deliver to the Peacemaker as a badge of friendship. They also provided an escort of young warriors, who would guide him to the country of the Pavonias. These people, who were a branch of the Saganaga, occupied the territory lying on the south side of the Shatemuc at the point where it flows into the sea, and they willingly furnished Nahma with a canoe in which to continue his journey.
Launching this craft on the waters of the narrow, tide-swept channel afterwards known as the Kill von Kull, and receiving from his friends a goodly store of parched corn, our traveller set forth alone on the last stage of his homeward journey.
On leaving the Kill he crossed New York Bay, undotted by a single sail, passed the densely wooded island that was to be known as "Governor's," and entered the East River. Here he came upon a scene of enchanting beauty. On his right stretched the level salt marshes and wooded plains of Long Island. On the other hand lay rock-ribbed Manhattan, rugged with hills and valleys, among which sparkled many crystal springs and rippling brooks. It was covered from end to end and from water's edge to water's edge with groves of stately forest-trees interspersed with grassy glades in which fed herds of deer. Over all was flung the exquisite veil of a May verdure, while the air was heavy with the scent of blossoms and filled with the song of mating birds. On the river's edge brown rocks were fringed with fantastic sea-growths that waved in the swift tide like banners streaming in a breeze.
Brooding ducks and wading heron peopled every placid cove, fish leaped from the clear waters, and white-plumed gulls flecked the blue sky. The beauty and peace of nature reigned undisturbed over all; for, as yet, no Old World keel had cleaved those waters, and the site of what was destined to become the greatest city of the earth was still untainted by the blight of civilization. Nor did Nahma see a human being on his whole journey from bay to sound. In the place destined to hold millions of his kind he was alone.
Skirting the northern shore of Long Island Sound, the solitary voyager, always taking pains to avoid observation, passed the country of the Mohicans and entered upon that of the Pequots. During the four days thus occupied he had not held communication with any man, having shunned alike the infrequent villages of bark huts and the camp-fires of fishermen or shell gatherers, as well as their canoes. He did not wish to be delayed or recognized before reaching the country of his own people. Consequently he hesitated for a moment when, on the fourth day of his journey, he discovered two figures in a canoe making signals of distress.
They were midway between an island lying several miles off shore and the mainland, and their canoe was so low in the water that it seemed about to sink. One of the figures was that of a man, who was paddling with desperate energy, while the other, evidently a woman, was furiously bailing water from the sinking craft. Only for a moment did Nahma hesitate, and then he headed with all speed in that direction.
The water-logged canoe sank before he reached it; but, within a few minutes, he had rescued the survivors, and they were safely bestowed in his own craft. With this accomplished, he started towards the land that had been their objective-point when, as he afterwards learned, their canoe had been pierced and ripped open by a sword-fish. Whether this had been done with malice, playfully, or by accident they could not tell; but it had so endangered their lives that they would, almost of a certainty, have drowned had not the stranger come to their rescue.
Not a word was spoken by any one of the three until the canoe had nearly gained the land. Then the rescued man, who, though young, was of commanding aspect, turned from his paddling in the bow and said,—
"Thou hast saved us from death and I will not forget it. I am Sassacus, chief of the Pequots."
Nahma's heart leaped within him. The Pequots formed one of the tribes acknowledging the authority of his father, and this youth was his own cousin. He was about to make reply, when the other continued: "I perceive thou art a stranger, and if thy business be not too pressing, my lodge would be honored to shelter thee as a guest."
"Gladly would I tarry," was the reply, "but I may not, for I bear a belt from the Saganaga to Longfeather the Peacemaker, that must be promptly delivered. The name by which I am known is Massasoit."
The Pequot chieftain turned and gazed keenly at the speaker. "Have not the Lenni Lenape learned that Longfeather has gone the great journey?" he asked.
"Dead! Longfeather dead, and I not with him at the end!" cried Nahma, shocked by the suddenness of this news into an unpremeditated betrayal of feeling. "When did he die, and how? Was he killed in battle?"
"He went to the place of Okis when the willow leaves were the size of mouse-ears, and he was killed by the pale-faces who come from the sea with death and destruction in their hands," answered the young chieftain, bitterly.
"Killed by the white man!" gasped Nahma, his face growing black and the cords of his neck swelling with rage. "Then by his blood I swear——"
"Wait," commanded Sassacus. "Not directly did the men from the sea take his life, nor was his blood shed. With the falling of leaves one of their winged canoes came to land near Montaup. From it were set on shore two men more nearly dead than living. Then the great canoe departed, leaving them to die. The dwellers of that country took pity on them and cared for them; but they died, and in a short time all who had gone near them were also dead. The plague spread from the Pokanokets to the Nausets, the Nipmucks, the Naticks, the Abenakis, and may still be spreading in the land of cold, though on this side it was stayed by the coming of warm weather, and thy—— Longfeather was the last to die of it."
For a few moments Nahma sat silent. Then, lifting his face, on which were unconcealed traces of a mighty grief, he said, "I will go with thee, Sassacus."
"It is well," replied the other, and no further word was spoken between them until after a landing was made. Even then the subject that had so greatly affected the new-comer was not again mentioned until after he had been taken to the lodge of the young chieftain and refreshed. This having been done, the guest requested that his host would walk apart with him, and when they were by themselves he said,—
"Thy news of the Peacemaker hath so confused my plans that I am at a loss how to proceed and would learn further from thee. First I would know who exercises authority in place of the great Wampanoag? Left he a son to rule in his stead?"
Sassacus looked curiously at his guest as he answered,—
"Longfeather had a son who should take his place, but he disappeared many moons ago."
"How?"
"No man knows for a certainty. Some say that he joined the Iroquois, and others that he was taken prisoner by the Hurons of the cold land. In that case there is small chance of his being now alive."
"Who, then, wears the Belt of Seven Totems?"
"No one wears it," replied the other, gravely, "for it also disappeared at the same time. Miantinomo the Narragansett claims the place and authority of Longfeather in the name of Canonicus, his father, and is even now at Montaup."
"Miantinomo!" exclaimed Nahma, bitterly. "By what right does he make such a claim?"
"By the right of a strong arm," replied the other.
"Is he loved and respected as was Longfeather?"
"No; he is hated by many and feared by all."
"Why, then, was he allowed to assume authority?"
"Because there was none other to dispute him."
"If one should come——?" began Nahma, hesitatingly.
"If one should come wearing the Belt of Seven Totems, or bearing other proof that he is the son of Longfeather," said Sassacus quickly, and with a meaning glance at his companion, "then would he find many to support his claim."
For a full minute Nahma hesitated, and the young men gazed steadfastly at each other. Then Nahma slowly thrust a hand within his buckskin shirt, and, drawing forth the Belt of Seven Totems, displayed it to his companion.
"Here is the Peacemaker's badge of authority," he said, "and here also is he who should succeed him, for I am Nahma, son of Longfeather."
"I have known it, my brother," replied Sassacus, "since the moment I saw thy face on hearing news of thy father's death, but I would not speak till thou hadst spoken. Now, however, I gladly acknowledge thee as my sachem, and will at once make public announcement of thy coming."
"Not so," objected Nahma. "For the present, and until I can meet Miantinomo face to face, I must be Massasoit of the Lenni Lenape. If, however, my brother will go to Montaup with a following of his young men, I will gladly travel in his company."
By murder, treachery, fraud, and force Miantinomo the Narragansett had finally attained the position upon which he had so long cast envious eyes. At the death of Longfeather he had caused himself to be proclaimed Peacemaker, or ruler of the confederated New England tribes, in the name of his adopted father, who was now too old to take an active part in affairs of this kind. The various stories concerning Nahma, circulated from time to time, had not disturbed him, for did he not know that his rival was dead? Nor had he any fear that the Belt of Seven Totems would ever again be seen in those parts, since he had given it to a white trader in exchange for a hatchet, and it had been carried to that mysterious place beyond the sea from which nothing ever returned.
He had also learned with satisfaction of Sacandaga's death, for that chieftain was the only red man who had ever seen the belt in his possession. With all traces of his own treacherous dealings thus wiped out, the ambitious young man had no hesitation in proclaiming Canonicus, his father, to be Longfeather's successor by virtue of his position as head of the strongest tribe in the confederation.
Although Miantinomo was generally disliked, no person felt strong enough to dispute this claim, and so he was sullenly accepted as Lawgiver of the tribes. In this capacity he hastened to take possession of Montaup, which had become the recognized seat of government.
There he at once proceeded to belie his assumed character of Peacemaker by making preparations on a large scale for invading the country of the Iroquois. He had never forgiven them for refusing to treat with him simply as a Narragansett, and now that he was in a position to command a war-party equal to any they could put in the field, he believed the time for humiliating them had come. He sent a runner to the Hurons urging them to attack the Iroquois from the north about the time that he proposed to cross the Shatemuc, and he imagined that the combination thus formed would prove overpowering. He also hoped that all this warlike activity would divert the thoughts of those who were displeased with his usurpation of authority, and he knew that a successful war would firmly establish his position.
So Miantinomo had sent messengers to every tribe and clan of the New England Confederacy bidding their warriors assemble at Montaup, and already were a great number thus gathered. Among others Sassacus had received a summons to this effect, but the fiery Pequot had determined to disobey it and risk the consequences. Now, however, the coming of Nahma had so changed the aspect of affairs that he gladly accepted the invitation to present himself at Montaup accompanied by a strong body of picked warriors.
Miantinomo, who had feared that Sassacus more than any other might rebel against his self-assumed authority, received him with effusive hospitality.
"Now do I know," he said, "that my undertaking against the arrogant Iroquois will succeed, since they have no warriors to equal the Pequots in bravery."
"It is good that you esteem my young men so highly," replied Sassacus, "and it is certain that they will do what may be to establish firmly the power of the Peacemaker. I am also accompanied to Montaup by one who will doubtless prove more welcome than all the others. He is a medicine-man of the Saganaga, who brings to the Peacemaker a belt of friendship from his people."
"Say you so!" exclaimed Miantinomo, his dark face lighting with pleasure, for an alliance with the Lenni Lenape of the south as well as one with the Hurons of the north would render him invincible. "Where is he? Why has he not already been brought to the lodge of council?"
"He is an old man and weary, who secludes himself from the common gaze in a lodge of skins that was pitched for him as soon as the canoes came to land," replied Sassacus. "He desires not to make his message public, since it is for your ears alone. For this reason he requests that a new medicine-lodge be erected in which he may receive you in private and with ceremonies befitting so important an occasion."
"An old man say you?" inquired Miantinomo, doubtfully.
"He has every appearance of extreme age and decrepitude."
"Have you seen the belt that he bears?"
"I have seen it, and know it to be a serpent-belt of the Saganaga. He hopes also to take one from you, that his people may know his mission to have been truly performed. If his terms be not granted, then with his belt will he depart to the land of the Iroquois."
"Without doubt I will grant all that he asks," replied Miantinomo, hastily, "for a friendship with the Saganaga may not be thrown away. At once shall a medicine-lodge be built, and when next the shadows are shortest then will I meet him."
"If it is your pleasure I will see to the building of the lodge," said Sassacus.
"It is my pleasure," answered the other, and with this the interview ended.
By noon of the following day the medicine-lodge, a simple affair of poles and bark, stood finished on the edge of a cleared space that formed the public gathering-place of Montaup. It was a mere shell bare of all furnishings, as was noted by the many curious persons who peeped in at its open doorway. The news that something of absorbing interest was to take place within it had attracted a large assemblage to its vicinity, where they waited with eager curiosity.
At the same time there was but little mingling of those belonging to the several tribes represented. The Narragansetts, with Miantinomo seated in front of them, were grouped by themselves close to the lodge but a little to one side. Although they outnumbered any of the visiting delegations, they formed but a fraction of the whole gathering.
Opposite to them and equally near the lodge stood the Pequots with the plumed head of Sassacus towering above them, and beside him stood our old acquaintance, Samoset.
The Wampanoags were there in full force supported by a large delegation of their near relatives, the Pokanokets. Besides these were representatives of every New England tribe that had acknowledged the authority of Longfeather. All were warriors, armed as for battle, and headed by their most experienced chiefs.
About half an hour before the sun attained his meridian a distant chanting of voices, accompanied by the measured beating of medicine-drums, announced the opening of the ceremonies, and a buzz of expectation swept over the great assembly.
Then appeared a procession of medicine-men clad in fantastic garb calculated to inspire those who beheld it with awe. Most prominent among them was an old man enveloped in a long robe of costly furs. He was so feeble and bent with age that he leaned heavily upon a stick and was also supported by two attendants. Directly in front of him walked a boy, very proud of his honorable position, and bearing in outstretched hands the wampum serpent-belt of the Saganaga so displayed that all might see it.
The procession halted before the lodge, while its members engaged in a medicine-dance, circling with furious gestures and wild cries about the central figure of the old man. Precisely at the hour of noon the dancing came to an abrupt end, and the old medicine-man, taking from the boy who had borne it the belt of the Saganaga, entered the empty lodge alone.
For a few minutes his voice was heard in the feeble chanting of an incantation, and then it invited the presence of the Peacemaker. Upon this Miantinomo stepped forth without hesitation and entered the lodge, vanishing from sight beyond its heavy curtain of double deer-skins. The light of the interior was so dim that for a moment he could see nothing; then he made out the form of its solitary occupant standing before him, and holding the belt that he believed was to confirm him in his assumed position. The old man, leaning on his stick, was still enveloped in the long robe that covered him from head to foot.
Gazing steadfastly at Miantinomo, he said, sternly,—
"Why dost thou come here? I summoned Longfeather the Peacemaker."
"He is dead," replied the other, "and I——"
"Then should his son Nahma have come in his place," interrupted the old man.
"He, too, is dead," said Miantinomo; "that is," he added, hastily, "he is dead to this people, for he is a traitor and dwells in the lodges of their enemies."
"Thou, then, art authorized to fill his place?"
"I am so authorized by Canonicus, my father, and will seek to wipe out the shame cast upon the name of Longfeather by his unworthy son."
"Why, then, dost thou not wear the Peacemaker's badge of authority, the great Belt of Seven Totems?"
"Because it was stolen and carried away by Nahma the renegade."
"Now do I know that thou liest!" exclaimed the old man with an energy of voice as startling as it was unexpected. "Thou knowest, better than any other, that the son of Longfeather was foully murdered while he slept on the farther bank of the Shatemuc. Thou knowest that his body, stripped of its badge of authority, was flung into the river. Thou knowest that the Belt of Seven Totems, first used to blind the eyes of Sacandaga, was afterwards sold to a white-faced trader that it might disappear forever beyond the salt waters. Thou knowest who first put in circulation the false tale that the son of Longfeather was a traitor and a renegade. Thou knowest, and I know, for such things may not be hid from the Okis. Also will I prove to thee that the dead may live, and that evil designs may come to naught even when they seem most likely to succeed. Look, then, and tremble, thou dog of a murderer."