Chapter 29 - Page 2

solitude, the
foot of man is rarely heard. An occasional glimpse of the bounding deer or
trotting moose, is almost the only interruption on the earth itself; while
the heavy bear or leaping panther, is, at long intervals, met seated on
the branches of some venerable tree. There are moments, too, when troops
of hungry wolves are found hunting on the trail of the deer; but these are
seen rather as exceptions to the stillness of the place, than as
accessories that should properly be introduced into the picture. Even the
birds are, in common, mute, or when they do break the silence, it is in a
discordance that suits the character of their wild abode.

Through such a scene two men were industriously journeying, on the day
which succeeded the inroad last described. They marched as wont, one after
the other, the younger and more active leading the way through the
monotony of the woods, as accurately and as unhesitatingly as the mariner
directs his course by the aid of the needle over the waste of waters. He
in front was light, agile, and seemingly unwearied; while the one who
followed was a man of heavy mould, whose step denoted less practice in the
exercise of the forest, and possibly some failing of natural vigor.

"Thine eye, Narragansett, is an unerring compass by which to steer, and
thy leg a never-wearied steed;" said the latter, casting the but of his
musket on the end of a mouldering log, while he leaned on the barrel for
support. "If thou movest on the war-path with the same diligence as thou
usest in our errand of peace, well may the Colonists dread thy enmity."

The other turned, and without seeking aid from the gun which rested
against his shoulder, he pointed at the several objects he named, and
answered--

"My father is this aged sycamore; it leans against the young
oak--Conanchet is a straight pine. There is great cunning in gray hairs,"
added the chief stepping lightly forward until a finger rested on the arm
of Submission; "can they tell the time when we shall lie under the moss
like a dead hemlock?"

"That exceedeth the wisdom of man. It is enough, Sachem, if when we fall,
we may say with truth, that the land we shadowed is no poorer for our
growth. Thy bones will lie in the earth where thy fathers trod, but mine
may whiten in the vault of some gloomy forest."

The quiet of the Indian's face was disturbed. The pupils of his dark eyes
contracted, his nostrils dilated, and his full chest heaved; and then all
reposed, like the sluggish ocean, after a vain effort to heave its waters
into some swelling wave, during a general calm.

"Fire hath scorched the prints of my father's moccasons from the earth,"
he said, with