and we all partook of it like so many famished men. The negro got his share, of course, and then we called a council as to future proceedings.
“The question is, whether we ought to make a straight path to Ravensnest,” observed Guert, “or proceed first to the surveyor’s, and see how things are going on in that direction.”
“As there can be no great danger of a pursuit on the part of the French, since all their boats are in the other lake,” I remarked, “the state of the country is very much what it was before the army moved.”
“Ask that question of the Indian,” put in Dirck, a little significantly.
We looked at Susquesus inquiringly, for a look always sufficed to let him comprehend us, when a tolerably plain allusion had been previously made.
“Black-man do foolish t’ing,” observed the Onondago.
“What I do, you red-skin devil?” demanded Jaap, who felt a sort of natural antipathy to all Indians, good or bad, excellent or indifferent; a feeling that the Indians repaid to his race by contempt indifferently concealed. “What I do, red-devil, ha?—dat you dares tell Masser Corny dat!”
Susquesus manifested no resentment at this strong and somewhat rude appeal; but sat as motionless as if he had not heard it. This vexed Jaap so much the more; and, my fellow being exceedingly pugnacious on all occasions that touched his pride, there might have been immediate war between the two, had I not raised a finger, at once effectually stilling the outbreak of Jacob Satanstoe’s wrath.
“You should not bring such a charge against my slave, Onondago,” I said, “unless able to prove it.”
“He beat red warrior like dog.”
“What of dat!” growled Jaap, who was only half-quieted by my sign. “Who ebber hear it hurt red-skin to rope-end him?”
“Warrior back like squaw’s. Blow hurt him. He never forget.”
“Well, let him remember den,” grinned the negro, showing his ivory teeth from ear to ear. “Muss was my prisoner; and what good he do me, if he let go widout punishment. I wish you tell Masser Corny dat, instead of tellin’ him nonsense. When he flog me, who ebber hear me grumble?”
“You have not had half enough of it, Jaap, or your manners would be better,” I thought it necessary to put in, for the fellow had never before manifested so quarrelsome a disposition in my presence; most probably because I had never before seen him at variance with an Indian. “Let me hear no more of this, or I shall be obliged to pay off the arrears on the spot.”
“A little hiding does a nigger good, sometimes,” observed Guert, significantly.
I observed that Dirck, who loved my very slave principally because he was mine, looked at the offender reprovingly; and by these combined demonstrations, we succeeded in curbing the fellow’s tongue.
“Well, Susquesus,” I added, “we all listen, to hear what you mean.
“Musquerusque chief—Huron chief—got very tender back; never forget rope.”
“You mean us to understand that my black’s prisoner will be apt to make some attempt to revenge himself for the flogging he got from his captor?”
“Just so. Indian good memory—no forget friend—no forget enemy.”
“But your Huron will be puzzled to find us, Onondago. He will suppose us with the army; and, should he even venture to look for us there, you see he will be disappointed.”
“Never know. Wood full of paths—Injin full of cunning. Why talk of Ravensnest?”
“Was the name of Ravensnest mentioned in the presence of that Huron?” I asked, more uneasy than such a trifle would probably have justified me in confessing.
“Ay, something was said about it, but not in a way the fellow could understand,” answered Guert, carelessly. “Let him come on, if he has not had enough of us yet.”
This was not my manner of viewing the matter, however; for the mentioning of Ravensnest brought Anneke to my mind, surrounded by the horrors of an Indian’s revenge.
“I will send you back to the Huron, Susquesus,” I added, “if you can name to me the price that will purchase his forgiveness.”
The Onondago looked at me meaningly a moment; then, bending forward, he passed the fore-finger of his hand around the head of Jaap, along the line that is commonly made by the knife of the warrior, as he cuts away the trophy of success from his victim. Jaap comprehended the meaning of this very significant gesture, as well as any of us, and the manner in which he clutched the wool, as if to keep the scalp in its place, set us all laughing. The negro did not partake of our mirth; but I saw that he regarded the Indian, much as the bull-dog shows his teeth, before he makes his spring. Another motion of my finger, however, quelled the rising. It was necessary to put an end to this, and Jaap was ordered to prepare our packs, in readiness for the expected march. Relieved from his presence, Susquesus was asked to be more explicit.
“You know Injin,” the Onondago answered. “Now he t’ink red-coats driv’ away and skeared, he go look for scalp. Love all sort scalp—old scalp, young scalp—man scalp, woman scalp—boy scalp, gal scalp—all get pay, all get honour. No difference to him.”
“Ay!” exclaimed Guert, with a strong aspiration, such as escapes a man who feels strongly; “he is a devil incarnate, when he once gets fairly on the scent of blood! So you expect these French Injins will make an excursion in among the settlers, out here to the south-east of us?”
“Go to nearest—don’t care where he be. Nearest your friend; won’t like that, s’pose?”
“You are right enough, Onondago, in saying that. I shall not like it, nor will my companions, here, like it; and the first thing you will have to do, will be to guide us, straight as the bird flies, to the Ravensnest; the picketed house, you know, where we have left our sweethearts.”
Susquesus understood all that was said, without any difficulty; in proof of which, he smiled at this allusion to the precious character of the inmates of the house Guert told him to seek.
“Squaw pretty ‘nough,” he answered, complacently. “No wonder young man like him. But, can’t go there, now. First find friends measure land. All Injin land, once!”
This last remark was made in a way I did not like; for the idea seemed to cross the Onondago’s brain so suddenly, as to draw from him this brief assertion in pure bitterness of spirit.
“I should be very sorry if it had not been, Susquesus,” I observed, myself, “since the title is all the better for its having been so, as our Indian deed will show. You know, of course, that my father, and his friend, Col. Follock, bought this land of the Mohawks, and paid them their own price for it.”
“Red-man nebber measure land so. He p’int with finger, break bush down, and say, ‘there, take from that water to that water.’”
“All very true, my friend; but, as that sort of measurement will not answer to keep farms separate, we are obliged to survey the whole off into lots of smaller size. The Mohawks first gave my father and his friend, as much land as they could
