Part 6 (1/2)

WAITER. Why, truly, sir, this is but a young country, and we have to live upon what we can catch. Pray, would you fancy some 'possum fat and hominy?

PENDRAGON. Oh, shocking! begone, fellow--you'll throw me into a fever with your vile bill of fare. Get me a cup of tea--mix it, hyson and souchong, with cream and m.u.f.fins.

WAITER. We can't give you any of those things, sir.--However, you can have an excellent cup of sage tea, sweetened with honey.

PENDRAGON. Sage tea! Why, you rascal, do you intend to throw me into a perspiration by way of curing my hunger? or do you take me for a goose or a duck, that you intend stuffing me with sage? Begone, get out, you little deformed fellow! [_Exit WAITER._] I shall perish in this barbarous land--bear meat, 'possum fat, and sage tea! O dear St. James!

I wish I was snug in my old quarters. LaRole! [_Enter LAROLE._] Where the devil do you hide yourself in this d.a.m.n'd house? Why, I shall starve--there's nothing to eat, fit for a gentleman.

LAROLE. Oui, monsieur, dis is von d.a.m.n contree, I can find nosing to eat. I did look into all de pantri, mai parbleu, I find only a ver pretti demoiselle, mai, I could not eat her.

PENDRAGON. We must be off to the camp, LaRole, my quarters there will be infinitely more agreeable. I shall get the blue devils in this cursed place.

LAROLE. Vell, sair, I have all de devils ventre bleu, das you can imagine; dere is no politesse, no respect, nosing paid to me.

PENDRAGON. My fit of the blues is coming on me; sing me a song, LaRole.

LAROLE. A chanson? Vell, sair, I shall sing to frighten avay de littel blue devil; vill you I shall sing de English or de Francaise?

PENDRAGON. Oh, English, by all means--curse your foreign lingo.

LAROLE. Ahem! Ahem! you shall understand.

_Vat is dis dull town to me, Robin Hadair?

Vere is all de joys on earth, dat Make dis town_--

[_A bugle sounds without._

Ha! what is dat? who de devil intrup me in my chanson?

INDIAN CHIEF. [_Speaks without._] Have them all ready, with their rifles and tomahawks in order; [_Enters with another INDIAN._] and you, Coosewatchie, tell our priests to take their stand on yonder hill, and as my warriors pa.s.s them, examine whether they have fire in their eyes.

[_Exit INDIAN._] How now, who have we here?

PENDRAGON. [_Examining him with his gla.s.s._] Where the devil did this character come from? he's one of the fancy, I suppose.

INDIAN. Who and what are you?

PENDRAGON. Who am I? Why, sir, I am the honourable captain Pendragon, of his majesty's guards, formerly of the buffs.

INDIAN. [_Aside._] The officer who is to be under my command. Well sir, you have lately arrived from across the great waters: How did you leave my father, the King of England?

PENDRAGON. How! call my most gracious sovereign your father? Why, sir, you are the most familiar--impertinent--'sdeath! I shall choke--What the devil do you mean?

INDIAN. [_Coolly._] What should I mean, young man, but to inquire after the health of my father, who commands my respect, who has honoured me with his favours, and in whose cause I am now fighting.

PENDRAGON. Well, sir, if you have the honour to hold a commission from his majesty, I desire that you will speak of him with proper awe, and not call him your father, but your gracious master.

INDIAN. Young man, the Indian warrior knows no master but the Great Spirit, whose voice is heard in thunder, and whose eye is seen in the lightning's flash; free as air, we bow the knee to no man; our forests are our home, our defence is our arms, our sustenance the deer and the elk, which we run down. White men encroach upon our borders, and drive us into war; we raise the tomahawk against your enemies, because your king has promised us protection and supplies. We fight for freedom, and in that cause, the great king and the poor Indian start upon equal terms.

PENDRAGON. A very clever spoken fellow, pon honour; I'll patronise him.