The Pilgrims of New England: A Tale of the Early American SettlersWebb, J. B., Mrs. (Annie)
History
The Pilgrims of New England: A Tale of the Early American Settlers
Webb, J. B., Mrs. (Annie)
Pilgrims (New Plymouth Colony) -- Fiction
Among the bystanders, Henrich instantly recognized his friend Jyanough;
and he shuddered to see the ingenious and inquiring youth assisting at
such satanic rites. But the figure that chiefly attracted his
attention, and to which his eyes became riveted, was that of
Tisquantum--the father of his gentle and beloved Oriana! There stood
the Sachem: he whose countenance he had seldom seen disturbed from his
usual expression of gravity and composure, and whose dignity of manner
had hitherto always commanded his respect. There he now stood--a victim
to satanic influence! His tall figure was dilated to its utmost height
by excitement and violent muscular effort, as he stood by the side of
the sick man. His eyes were fixed with a fearful and unmeaning glare on
the darkest corner of the hut, and seemed to be starting from their
sockets; while his hands, stiff and motionless, were extended over the
body of Terah, as if to guard him from the assault of some demons
visible to the conjuror alone. In this statue-like posture he remained
for some moments, while his breast heaved convulsively, and foam
gathered on his parted lips. Then, suddenly, he uttered a yell--so loud
and so unearthly that Henrich started with surprise and terror: and
Oriana caught his hand, and tried to draw him away from a scene that
now filled her soul with shame and sorrow.
But Henrich did not move: he did not heed the beseeching voice, and the
gentle violence of his companion, whose wishes were generally commands
to her white brother.
That yell had recalled the patient to partial consciousness, and he
rolled his blood-shot eyes around him, as if endeavoring to collect his
wandering senses; and then his haggard countenance again resumed the
expression of imperturbable composure and firm endurance that an Indian
warrior thinks it a disgrace to lose, even in the extremity of
suffering. Then Tisquantum sank on one knee beside him, and burst forth
into a passionate address to his deities--the powers of good and evil--
whom he regarded as almost equally mighty to decide the fate of the
patient.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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