American fiction -- 19th century; Historical fiction; Indians of North America -- Fiction
The Indians already present were not seated. They stood in groups
conversing, or stalked across the arena, resembling so many dark and
stately spectres. No sound was heard among them, a circumstance that
added largely to the wild and supernatural aspect of the scene. If any
spoke, it was in a tone so low and gentle, as to carry the sound no
farther than to the ears that were listening; two never spoke at
the same time and in the same group, while the moccasin permitted no
footfall to be audible. Nothing could have been more unearthly than the
picture presented in that little, wood-circled arena, of velvet-like
grass and rural beauty. The erect, stalking forms, half naked, if not
even more; the swarthy skins; the faces fierce in the savage conceits
which were intended to strike terror into the bosoms of enemies, and the
glittering eyes that fairly sparkled in their midst, all contributed to
the character of the scene, which le Bourdon rightly enough imagined was
altogether much the most remarkable of any he had ever been in the way
of witnessing.
Our two spectators might have been seated on the fallen tree half an
hour, all of which time they had been gazing at what was passing before
their eyes; with positively not a human sound to relieve the unearthly
nature of the picture. No one spoke, coughed, laughed, or exclaimed, in
all that period. Suddenly, every chief stood still, and all the faces
turned in the same direction. It was toward the little gateway of the
rill, which being the side of the arena most remote from the bee-hunter
and the corporal, lay nearly in darkness as respected them. With the red
men it must have been different, for THEY all appeared to be in intent
expectation of some one from that quarter. Nor did they have to wait
long; for, in half a minute, two forms came out of the obscurity,
advancing with a dignified and deliberate tread to the centre of
the arena. As these newcomers got more within the influence of the
flickering light, le Bourdon saw that they were Peter and Parson Amen.
The first led, with a slow, imposing manner, while the other followed,
not a little bewildered with what he saw. It may be as well to explain
here, that the Indian was coming alone to this place of meeting, when
he encountered the missionary wandering among the oaks, looking for le
Bourdon and the corporal, and, instead of endeavoring to throw off this
unexpected companion, he quietly invited him to be of his own party.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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