“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 walk round in two suns, allowing them the night to rest in.”
“That good deed!” exclaimed the Indian, with strong emphasis. “Leg can’t cheat—pen great rogue.”
“Well, we have the benefit of both grants; for the proprietors actually walked round the estate, a party of Indians accompanying them, to see that all was fair. After that, the chiefs signed a deed in writing, that there might be no mistake, and then we got the King’s grant.”
“Who give King land, at all?—All land here red-man land; who give him to king?”
“Who made the Delawares women?—The warriors of he Six nations, was it not, Susquesus?”
“Yes—my people help. Six Nation great warrior, and put petticoat on Delawares, so they can’t go on war-path any more. What that to do with King’s land?”
“Why, the King’s warriors, you know, my friend, have taken possession of this country, just as the Six Nations took possession of the Delawares, before they made them women.”
“What become of King’s warrior, now?” demanded the Indian, quick as lightning. “Where he run away to? Where land Ticonderoga, now? Whose land t’other end lake, now?”
“Why, the King’s troops have certainly met with a disaster; and, for the present, their rights are weakened, it must be admitted. But, another day may see all this changed, and the King will got his land again. You will remember, he has not sold Ticonderoga to the French, as the Mohawks sold Mooseridge to us; and that, you must admit, makes a great difference. A bargain is a bargain, Onondago.”
“Yes, bargain, bargain—that good. Good for red-man, good for pale-face—no difference—what Mohawk sell, he no take back, but let pale-face keep—but how come Mohawk and King sell, too? Bot’ own land, eh?”
This was rather a puzzling question to answer to an Indian. We white people can very well understand that a human government, which professes, on the principles recognised by civilized nations, to have jurisdiction over certain extensive territories that lie in the virgin forest, and which are used only, and that occasionally, by certain savage tribes as hunting-grounds, should deem it right to satisfy those tribes, by purchase, before they parcelled out their lands for the purposes of civilized life; but, it would not be so easy to make an unsophisticated mind understand that there could be two owners to the same property. The transaction is simple enough to us, and it tells in favour of our habits, for we have the power to grant these lands without ‘extinguishing the Indian title,’ as it is termed; but it presents difficulties to the understandings of those who are not accustomed to see society surrounded by the multifarious interests of civilization. In point of fact, the Indian purchases give no other title, under our laws, than the right to sue out, in council, a claim to acquire by, the grant of the crown; paying to the latter such a consideration as in its wisdom it shall see fit to demand. Still, it was necessary to make some answer to the Onondago’s question, lest he might carry away the mistaken notion that we did not justly own our possessions.
“Suppose you find a rifle to your fancy, Susquesus,” I said, after reflecting a moment on the subject, “and you find two Indians who both claim to own it; now, if you pay each warrior his price, is your right to the title any the worse for having done so? Is it not rather better?”
The Indian was struck with this reply, which suited the character of his mind. Thrusting out his hand, he received mine, and shook it cordially, as much as to say he was satisfied. Having disposed of this episode thus satisfactorily, we turned to the more interesting subject of our immediate movements.
“It would seem that the Onondago expects the French Indians will now strike at the settlements,” I remarked to my companions, “and, that our friends at Ravensnest may need our aid; but, at the same time, he thinks we should first return to Mooseridge, and join the surveyors. Which mode of proceeding strikes you as the best, my friends?”
“Let us first hear the Injin’s reasons for going after the surveyors,” answered Guert. “If he has a sufficient reason for his plan, I am ready to follow it.”
“Surveyor got scalp, as well as squaw,” said Susquesus, in his brief, meaning manner.
“That must settle the point!” exclaimed Guert. “I understand it all, now. The Onondago thinks the Mooseridge party may be cut off, as being alone and unsupported, and that we ought to apprise them of this danger.”
“All perfectly just,” I replied, “and it is what they, being our own people, have a right to expect from us. Still, Guert, I should think those surveyors might be safe where they are, in the bosom of the forest, for a year to come. Their business there cannot be known, and who is then to betray them?”
“See,” said Susquesus, earnestly. “Kill deer, and leave him in the wood. Won’t