Part 14 (1/2)
”And,” continued Lumley, ”I have brought men--strong men, who can work well--to help me to build a house, so that we may live among you and hunt together.”
He paused here to let the statement have its full effect. Then he continued:--
”I have also brought plenty of guns, and powder, and lead.”
Again he paused, and an emphatic ”waugh” proved that the remark was fully appreciated.
”The white man knows,” continued Lumley, in a more flowing style, ”that his red brothers have need of many things which they do not possess, while the white man is in need of furs, and does not possess them. It is for the good of each that we should exchange. The Great Spirit, who is all-wise, as well as all-good, has seen fit to scatter His children over a wide world, and He has given some of them too much of one thing, some of them too much of another. Why has He done so? May we not think that it is for the purpose of causing His children to move about the world, and mingle, and help each other, and so increase Love? Some of the bad children prefer to move about and steal. But there is no need.
It is easier to do good than to do evil. If all men would help and none would steal, there would be more than enough for all.”
Again a pause. Some of the savages, who were thoughtful men, were greatly tickled in their minds by the arguments set forth. Others, who could not understand, were deeply impressed.
”Now,” continued Lumley, coming to the marrow of his discourse, ”the red-men have more than enough of furs.”
”Waugh!” in a tone of emphasis, that implied ”that's true.”
”And the pale-faces have few furs, but want some very much.”
”Waugh?” interrogatively, in a tone that implied ”what then?”
”Well, but the pale-faces are not poor. They are rich, and have far too much of many things. They have far too much of those pleasant sweet things called sugar and mola.s.ses (the Indians involuntarily licked their lips). Too much cloth as bright as the sun at setting, and as blue as the sky at noon (the Indian eyes glistened). Too many guns, and too much powder and shot (the savage eyes glared). They have more beads, and blankets, and hatchets, and tobacco, than they know what to do with, so they have sent some of these things here to be given to you in exchange for furs, and food, and leather.”
The waughs! and hows! and hos! with which these remarks were followed up were so hearty, that Lumley thought it best to make a considerable pause at this point; then he resumed:--
”But, my brothers,”--he stopped for a considerable time, and looked so grave, that the hearts of the red-men sank, lest the glorious vision which had been suddenly revealed to them, should be as suddenly withdrawn in some way.
”But,” repeated Lumley, again, with a sort of awful emphasis, ”the pale-faces detest war. They can fight--yes, and when they _must_ fight, they _will_ fight, but they do not love fighting, and if they are to stay here and open up trade with their guns, and their powder, and their blankets, and beads, and cloth (he wisely went all over it again for the sake of effect), there must be peace in the land. If there is war the pale-faces will take all their good things and go away--waugh!”
Finis.h.i.+ng off in the true red-man style, Lumley sat down with decision, as though to say, ”Now, the ball is at your own feet, kick it which way you please.”
Then the chief of the savages rose with dignity, but with a tinge of eagerness which he could not altogether conceal, and said:--
”Let not my white brother talk of going away. War shall cease at his bidding. Let him and his pale-faced warriors fell trees, and build wigwams, and hunt. We have plenty furs--the black fox, the red fox, the beaver, the marten, the minks, the bear, and many other animals are plentiful. We will exchange them for the goods of the white man. We will bury the hatchet, and smoke the calumet of peace, and the sound of the war-whoop shall no more be heard in the land--waugh!”
”Are my brothers ready to go to the camp of Big Otter, and make friends at once?” asked Lumley.
This was a testing question, and for some time remained unanswered, while the chiefs and braves looked preposterously solemn. At last, however, they seemed to make up their minds, and the chief replied, ”We are ready.”
That night the hostile savages met on the sh.o.r.es of Lake Wichikagan, and encamped with the fur-traders. Fires were lighted, and kettles put on, a royal feast was prepared; and the reunited tribes of red-men finally buried the war-hatchet there, and smoked the pipe of peace.
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
LUMLEY ON DUTY--FORT WICHIKAGAN BEGINS TO GROW.
The bold and prompt manner in which peace was established among the contending savages of Lake Wichikagan did more to raise my friend Jack Lumley in their estimation than if he had fought a hundred successful battles, and subdued a nation of foes. It seemed to be felt on all hands that he was a man who could be trusted, and his pointed reference to the Great Spirit conveyed an impression that truth and justice must be his guiding principles.
And on this point these children of nature read his character correctly, for, as I have had frequent occasion to observe, my friend was strictly truthful, and, I might almost say, sternly just. Duty indeed was his pole-star--duty to G.o.d and man.
”Max,” he once said to me when we had got into a confidential chat beside our camp-fire, ”let me advise you to take a sound view, and a good grasp, of what men call duty. There is a right and a wrong in everything that the mind or hand of man can be brought to bear upon. It is our duty to discover and do the right if we can--to recognise and avoid the wrong. True success in life depends upon this principle being acted on at all times, and in all things. Even what worldly men deem success--the acquisition of wealth, fame, etcetera--is largely dependent on strict regard to duty.”