Wild Western Scenes Part 48

"Huzza! huzza!! huzza!!!" shouted Joe, casting the bandages. .h.i.ther and thither, and dancing nimbly over the floor. "Fal-de-lal--tider-e-i-- tider-e-o-- tider-e-um!" he continued, in frenzied delight, and, observing Sneak at the door with an armful of plantain (who had returned in time to witness his abrupt recovery, and now continued to regard him with wonder and doubt--at times thinking he was delirious,) skipped up and held out both hands, as if inviting him to dance.

"Dod rot it, your leg ain't swelled a bit!" said Sneak.

"Don't use that bad word, Sneak," said Mary.

"I won't--but dod--he's had me running all over--"

"Tider-e-i--tider-e-um!" continued Joe, still dancing, while the perspiration streamed over his face.

"Have done with this nonsense, Joe!" said Glenn, "or else continue your ridiculous exercises on the gra.s.s in the yard. You may rejoice now, but this affair will be sport for others all your life. You will not relish it so much to-morrow."

"I'd rather all the world would laugh at me alive and kicking, than that one of you should mourn over my dead body," replied Joe, leaping over Sneak, who was sitting in the door, and striding to the gra.s.s plot under the elm, where he continued his rejoicings. Sneak followed, and, sitting down on the bench in the shade, seemed to muse with unusual gravity at the strange spectacle presented by Joe.

This was Joe's last wild western adventure. The incident was soon forgotten by the party in the house. Serious and sad thoughts succeeded the mirthful scene described above. Roughgrove had brought Boone thither to receive their last farewell! The renowned woodman and warrior wore marks of painful regret on his pale features. The rest were in tears.

"William," said Roughgrove, "listen to a tale concerning thy birth and parentage, which I feel it to be my duty to unfold. Your sister has already learned the story from your friend, who sits beside her. But I will repeat it to all present. You who are the most interested can then determine whether it shall ever be disclosed to other ears. The secret was long locked in my bosom, and it was once my purpose to bury it with my body in the grave. I pondered long on the subject, and prayed to Heaven to be instructed. I have satisfactory evidence in my own heart that I have acted correctly." He then related the history of the twins, as we have given it to the reader. When he concluded, La-u-na, who had betrayed much painful interest during the recital, threw her arms round William's neck, and wept upon his breast.

"Why do you weep, La-u-na?" asked the youth.

"La-u-na must die!" said she; "her William will leave her and forget her. The wild rose will bend over her grave--the brook will murmur low at her cold feet--the rabbit will nip the tender gra.s.s by her tombstone at night-fall--the katydid will chirp over her, and the whippor-will will sing in vain. William will forget her! Poor La-u-na!"

"No--La-u-na! no! Thou shalt go with me and be my bride, or else I will remain with thee! Death only shall separate us!" said the youth, drawing the slight form of the Indian maiden closer to his heart, and imprinting a rapturous kiss on her smooth forehead.

"We will all go together," continued Roughgrove, "save our beloved friend here, who tells me that no earthly consideration could induce him to dwell in cities among civilized men."

"True," said Boone; "I would not exchange my residence in the western wilds for the gorgeous palaces of the east. Yet I think you do right in returning to the society which you were destined to adorn. I shall grieve when I miss you, but I will not persuade you to remain. Every one should act according to the dictates of his conscience. It is my belief that Providence guides our actions. You, my friends, were fitted and designed to move in refined society, and by your example and influence to benefit the world around you. The benefits bestowed by _me_ will not be immediate, nor altogether in my day. I am a PIONEER, formed by nature. Where I struggle with the savage and the wild beast, my great grandchildren will reside in cities, I must fulfil my mission."

At this moment Joe and Sneak appeared at the door.

"There's a covered flat-boat just landed down at the ferry," said Joe.

"It is from the island above," said Roughgrove, "and the one I have had constructed for our voyage down the river."

"Are we going, sure enough?" asked Joe.

"Yes; to-morrow," said Glenn.

"Dod--are you _all_ going off?" asked Sneak, rolling round his large eyes, and stretching out his neck to an unusual length.

"All but me, Sneak," said Boone.

"And you won't be any company for me. Dod--I've a notion to go too! If I could foller any thing to make a living in Fillydelfa--"

"If you go with us, you shall never want--I will see that you are provided for," said Glenn.

"It's a bargain!" said Sneak, with the eager emphasis characteristic of the trading Yankee.

"But poor Pete--the horses!" said Joe.

"There are stalls in the boat for them," said Roughgrove.

"Huzza! I'm glad. Huzza!" cried Joe.

The next morning beamed upon them in beauty--and in sadness. The sun rose in majesty, and poured his brilliant and inspiring rays on peak and valley and plain. But the hearts of the peaceful wanderers throbbed in sorrow as they gazed for the last time on the scene before them. Though it had been identified with the many perilous and painful encounters with savages, yet the quivering green leaves above, the sparkling brook below, and the soft melody of happy birds around, were intimately a.s.sociated with some of the most blissful moments of their lives.

La-u-na retired to a lonely spot, and poured forth a farewell song to the whispering spirits of her fathers. Long her steadfast gaze was fixed on the blue sky, as if communing with the departed kings from whom she descended. At length her tears vanished like a shower in the sunshine, and a bright smile rested upon her features, as if her prayer had been heard and all she asked were granted! Prophetic vision! While the race from which she separated is doomed to extinction in the forest, the blood she mingled with the Anglo-Saxon race may yet be destined to sway the councils of a mighty empire.

William mused in silence, guarding at a distance the bride of his heart, and not venturing to intrude upon her devotions. The past was like a dream to him--the present a bright vision--the future a paradise!

Glenn and Mary were seated together, regarding with impatience the brief preparations to embark. Boone, Roughgrove, Sneak, and Joe were busily engaged lading the vessel. Sneak had hastily brought thither his effects, and without a throe of regret abandoned his _house_ for ever to the owls. Joe succeeded with but little difficulty in getting the horses on board. The fawn, the kitten, the hounds, and the chickens were likewise taken along.

And now all was ready to push out into the current. All were on board.

Boone bid them an affectionate adieu in silence--in silence, but in tears. The cable was loosened, and the boat was wafted down on its journey eastward. William and La-u-na sat upon the deck, and gazed at the receding sh.o.r.e, rendered dear by hallowed recollections. Glenn and Mary stood at the prow, and as they marked the fleeting waters, their thoughts dwelt on the happy future. Roughgrove was praying. Joe was caressing the pony. Sneak was counting his muskrat skins. And thus we must bid them adieu.

THE END.