the spirit of the border- 第18部分

grove　yonder。〃



Jim　and　the　others　looked　in　at　the　door　of　the　large　log　structure。　They　saw

an　immense　room；　the　floor　covered　with　benches；　and　a　raised　platform　at　one

end。　A　few　windows　let　in　the　light。　Spacious　and　barn…like　was　this

apartment；　but　undoubtedly；　seen　through　the　beaming　eyes　of　the　missionary；

it　was　a　grand　amphitheater　for　worship。　The　hard…packed　clay　floor　was　velvet

carpet；　the　rude　seats　soft　as　eiderdown；　the　platform　with　its　white…oak

cross；　an　altar　of　marble　and　gold。



〃This　is　one　of　our　shops；〃　said　Mr。　Zeisberger；　leading　them　to　a　cabin。

〃Here　we　make　brooms；　harness　for　the　horses；　farming　implementseverything

useful　that　we　can。　We　have　a　forge　here。　　Behold　an　Indian　blacksmith！〃



The　interior　of　the　large　cabin　presented　a　scene　of　bustling　activity。　

Twenty　or　more　Indians　bent　their　backs　in　earnest　employment。　In　one　corner　a

savage　stood　holding　a　piece　of　red…hot　iron　on　an　anvil；　while　a　brawny　brave

wielded　a　sledge…hammer。　The　sparks　flew；　the　anvil　rang。　　In　another　corner　a

circle　of　braves　sat　around　a　pile　of　dried　grass　and　flags。　They　were

twisting　and　fashioning　these　materials　into　baskets。　At　a　bench　three　Indian

carpenters　were　pounding　and　sawing。　Young　braves　ran　back　and　forth；　carrying

pails；　rough…hewn　boards　and　blocks　of　wood。



Instantly　struck　by　two　things；　Jim　voiced　his　curiosity：



〃Why　do　these　Indians　all　wear　long　hair；　smooth　and　shiny；　without

adornment？〃



〃They　are　Christians。　They　wear　neither　headdress；　war…bonnet；　nor

scalp…lock；〃　replied　Mr。　Zeisberger；　with　unconscious　pride。



〃I　did　not　expect　to　see　a　blacksmith's　anvil　out　here　in　the　wilderness。　

Where　did　you　procure　these　tools？〃



〃We　have　been　years　getting　them　here。　Some　came　by　way　of　the　Ohio　River；

others　overland　from　Detroit。　That　anvil　has　a　history。　It　was　lost　once；　and

lay　for　years　in　the　woods；　until　some　Indians　found　it　again。　It　is　called

the　Ringing　Stone；　and　Indians　come　from　miles　around　to　see　and　hear　it。〃



The　missionary　pointed　out　wide　fields　of　corn；　now　growing　yellow；　and

hillsides　doted　with　browsing　cattle；　droves　of　sturdy…limbed　horses；　and　pens

of　fat；　grunting　pigsall　of　which　attested　to　the　growing　prosperity　of　the

Village　of　Peace。



On　the　way　back　to　the　cabin；　while　the　others　listened　to　and　questioned　Mr。

Zeisberger；　Jim　was　silent　and　thoughtful；　for　his　thoughts　reverted　to　his

brother。



Later；　as　he　walked　with　Nell　by　the　golden…fringed　stream；　he　spoke　of　Joe。



〃Joe　wanted　so　much　to　hunt　with　Wetzel。　He　will　come　back；　surely　he　will

return　to　us　when　he　has　satisfied　his　wild　craving　for　adventure。　Do　you　not

think　so？〃



There　was　an　eagerness　that　was　almost　pleading　in　Jim's　voice。　What　he　so

much　hoped　forthat　no　harm　had　befallen　Joe；　and　that　he　would　returnhe

doubted。　he　needed　the　encouragement　of　his　hope。



〃Never；〃　answered　Nell；　solemnly。



〃Oh；　whywhy　do　you　say　that？〃



〃I　saw　him　look　at　youa　strange；　intent　glance。　He　gazed　long　at　me　as　we

separated。　Oh！　I　can　feel　his　eyes。　No；　he　will　never　come　back。〃



〃Nell；　Nell；　you　don　not　mean　he　went　away　deliberatelybecause；　oh！　I　cannot

say　it。〃



〃For　no　reason；　except　that　the　wilderness　called　him　more　than　love　for　you

orme。〃



〃No；　no；〃　returned　Jim；　his　face　white。　〃You　do　not　understand。　He　really

loved　youI　know　it。　He　loved　me；　too。　Ah；　how　well！　He　has　gone　becauseI

can't　tell　you。〃



〃Oh；　Jim；　I　hopehe　lovedme；〃　sobbed　Nell；　bursting　into　tears。　〃His

coldnesshis　neglect　thoselast　few　dayshurt　meso。　If　he　caredas　you

sayI　won't　besomiserable。〃



〃We　are　both　rightyou　when　you　say　he　will　never　return；　and　I　when　I　say　he

loved　us　both；〃　said　Jim　sadly；　as　the　bitter　certainty　forced　itself　into　his

mind。



As　she　sobbed　softly；　and　he　gazed　with　set；　stern　face　into　the　darkening

forest；　the　deep；　mellow　notes　of　the　church　bell　pealed　out。　So　thrilled；　so

startled　were　they　by　this　melody　wondrously　breaking　the　twilight　stillness；

that　they　gazed　mutely　at　each　other。　Then　they　remembered。　　It　was　the

missionary's　bell　summoning　the　Christian　Indians　to　the　evening　service。







Chapter　XI。



The；　sultry；　drowsy；　summer　days　passed　with　no　untoward　event　to　mar　their

slumbering　tranquillity。　Life　for　the　newcomers　to　the　Village　of　Peace

brought　a　content；　the　like　of　which　they　had　never　dreamed　of。　Mr。　Wells　at

once　began　active　work　among　the　Indians；　preaching　to　them　through　an

interpreter；　Nell　and　Kate；　in　hours　apart　from　household　duties；　busied

themselves　brightening　their　new　abode；　and　Jim　entered　upon　the　task　of

acquainting　himself　with　the　modes　and　habits　of　the　redmen。　Truly；　the　young

people　might　have　found　perfect　happiness　in　this　new　and　novel　life；　if　only

Joe　had　returned。　His　disappearance　and　subsequent　absence　furnished　a　theme

for　many　talks　and　many　a　quiet　hour　of　dreamy　sadness。　　The　fascination　of

his　personality　had　been　so　impelling　that　long　after　it　was　withdrawn　a　charm

lingered　around　everything　which　reminded　them　of　him；　a　subtle　and　sweet

memory；　with　perverse　and　half　bitter　persistence；　returned　hauntingly。　No

trace　of　Joe　had　been　seen　by　any　of　the　friendly　Indian　runners。　He　was　gone

into　the　mazes　of　deep…shadowed　forests；　where　to　hunt　for　him　would　be　like

striving　to　trail　the　flight　of　a　swallow。　　Two　of　those　he　had　left　behind

always　remembered　him；　and　in　their　thoughts　followed　him　in　his　wanderings。



Jim　settled　down　to　his　study　of　Indians　with　single…heartedness　of　purpose。

He　spent　part　of　every　morning　with　the　interpreters；　with　whose　assistance　he

rapidly　acquired　the　Delaware　language。　He　went　freely　among　the　Indians；

endeavoring　to　win　their　good…will。　　There　were　always　fifty　to　an　hundred

visiting　Indians　at　the　village；　sometimes；　when　the　missionaries　had

advertised　a　special　meeting；　there　were　assembled　in　the　shady　maple　grove　as

many　as　five　hundred　savages。　Jim　had；　therefore；　opportunities　to　practice

his　offices　of　friendliness。



Fortunately　for　him；　he　at　once　succeeded　in　establishing　himself　in　the　good

graces　of　Glickhican；　the　converted　Delaware　chief。　The　wise　old　Indian　was　of

inestimable　value　to　Jim。　Early　in　their　acquaintance　he　evinced　an　earnest

regard　for　the　young　minister；　and　talked　with　him　for　hours。



From　Glickhican　Jim　learned　the　real　nature　of　the　redmen。　The　Indian's　love

of　freedom　and　honor；　his　hatred　of　subjection　and　deceit；　as　explained　by　the

good　old　man；　recalled　to　Jim　Colonel　Zane's　estimate　of　the　savage　character。

Surely；　as　the　colonel　had　said；　the　Indians　had　reason　for　their　hatred　of

the　pioneers。　Truly；　they　were　a　blighted　race。



Seldom　had　the　rights　of　the　redmen　been　thought　of。　The　settler　pushed

onward；　plodding；　as　it　were；　behind　his　plow　with　a　rifle。　　He　regarded　the

Indian　as　little　better　than　a　beast；　he　was　easier　to　kill　than　to　tame。　How

little　the　settler　knew　the　proud　independence；　the　wisdom；　the　stainless

chastity　of　honor；　which　belonged　so　truly　to　many　Indian　chiefs！



The　redmen　were　driven　like　hounded　deer　into　the　untrodden　wilds。　From

freemen　of　the　forests；　from　owners　of　the　great　boundless　plains；　they　passed

to　stern；　enduring　fugitives　on　their　own　lands。　Small　wonder　that　they　became

cruel　where　once　they　had　been　gentle！　Stratagem　and　cunning；　the　night

assault；　the　daylight　ambush　took　the　place　of　their　one…time　open　warfare。

Their　chivalrous　courage；　that　sublime　inheritance　from　ancestors　who　had

never　known　the　paleface　foe；　degenerated　into　a　savage　ferocity。



Interesting　as　was　this　history　to　Jim；　he　cared　more　for　Glickhican's　rich

portrayal　of　the　redmen's　domestic　life；　for　the　beautiful　poetry　of　his

tradition　and　legends。　He　heard　with　delight　the　exquisite　fanciful　Indian

lore。　From　these　romantic　legends；　beautiful　poems；　and　marvelous　myths　he

hoped　to　get　ideas　of　the　Indian's　religion。　Sweet　and　simple　as　childless

dreams　were　these　quaint　talestales　of　how　the　woodland　fairies　dwelt　in

fern…carpeted　dells；　how　at　sunrise　they　came　out　to　kiss　open　the　flowers；

how　the　forest　walks　were　spirit…haunted　paths；　how　the　leaves　whispered

poetry　to　the　winds；　how　the　rocks　harbored　Indian　gods　and　masters　who

watched　over　their　chosen　ones。



Glickhican　wound　up　his　long　discourses　by　declaring　he　had　never　lied　in　the

whole　course　of　his　seventy　years；　had　never　stolen；　never　betrayed；　never

murdered；　never　killed；　save　in　self…defence。　Gazing　at　the　chief's　fine

features；　now　calm；　yet　showing　traces　of　past　storms；　Jim　believed　he　spoke

the　truth。



When　the　young　minister　came；　however；　to　study　the　hostile　Indians　that

flocked　to　the　village；　any　conclusive　delineation　of　character；　or　any

satisfactory　analysis　of　their　mental　state　in　regard　to　the　paleface

religion；　eluded　him。　Their　passive；　silent；　sphinx…like　secretiveness　was

baffling。　Glickhican　had　taught　him　how　to　propitiate　the　friendly　braves；　and

with　these　he　was　successful。　Little　he　learned；　however；　from　the　unfriendly

ones。　When　making　gifts　to　these　redmen　he　could　never　be　certain　that　his

offerings　were　appreciated。　The　jewels　and　gold　he　had　brought　west　with　him

went　to　the　French　traders；　who　in　exchange　gave　him　trinkets；　baubles；

bracelets　and　weapons。　Jim　made　hundreds　of　presents。　Boldly　going　up　to

befeathered　and　befringed　chieftains；　he　offered　them　knives；　hatchets；　or

strings　of　silvery　beads。　Sometimes　his　kindly　offerings　were　repelled　with　a

haughty　stare；　at　other　times　they　would　be　accepted　coldly；　suspiciously；　as

if　the　gifts　brought　some　unknown　obligation。



For　a　white　man　it　was　a　never…to…be…forgotten　experience　to　see　eight　or　ten

of　these　grim；　slowly　stepping　forest　kings；　arrayed　in　all　the　rich　splendor

of　their　costume；　stalking　among　the　teepees　of　the　Village　of　Peace。　Somehow；

such　a　procession　a