The distinguished members of the Continental Congress reached Dorminghurst during the afternoon when Mollie Greydon and Segwuna had been gathering the wild strawberries for supper. They were weary with their deliberations during the hot June days, and the freshness of the country air was a tonic to soul and body. Dr. Franklin had known Dr. Greydon since the latter’s childhood, and he walked around the grounds examining the garden with characteristic good comradeship, as he said: “William,” addressing Dr. Greydon, “are these cherries from the trees brought over by William Penn and planted by your father?” “How fine,” exclaimed Mr. Jefferson, “are these roses! I shall have to get some cuttings for my garden at Monticello,” as they sauntered along the path bordered by box, on the way to the sun-dial. “Yes,” replied Dr. Greydon to Benjamin Franklin, “father planted the originals of most of these trees and we have grafted the scions to perpetuate the memory of our dear friend, William Penn. But do you see those columbines The three made their way through rows of hollyhocks, feverfew, rhododendrons, tulips, peonies, narcissi, rows of homely bee-hives, the spot for the physic and pot-herbs, where pennyroyal, tansy, spearmint, anise, dill, horse-leek, bitter-sweet, hyssop and boneset were growing, when they reached the apple orchard beyond the garden. A large orchard seat under one of those homely old apple trees, savoring of domesticity, brought them to a quiet nook where the three sat down for a discussion of affairs. “Do you believe that the delegates from Pennsylvania will vote for a Declaration, Doctor Franklin?” asked Mr. Jefferson of his associate. “I, for one, shall vote for the Declaration,” replied Benjamin Franklin, emphatically, “but the other delegates from Pennsylvania, Robert Morris and James Wilson, I am convinced will never do so. They love riches too well to disturb present institutions. They are too close to, and too much interested in the commercial element of Philadelphia to be so radical. If they could “But do you not think that they can see the great benefits to mankind in free institutions and in the doctrine that all men are created free and equal?” continued Mr. Jefferson. “Never, sir, so long as they think that there is any reason to stand on the argument of non-interference with settled usage and present commercial relations. They believe that a Declaration would bring war and an upheaval in trade. You know they represent great commercial houses in London, and they think that they would be ruined to cut off their condition of agent and hireling. They are thoroughly whipped into line by a policy of commercial cowardice and dependence. They cannot see that to be independent of England’s merchants would be for their own benefit,” argued Franklin to his listeners’ delight. “I believe that they will see the error of their way,” continued Dr. Greydon. “Yes, when they find that they are overwhelmingly outvoted by the rest of us,” remarked Jefferson. “But those commercial people think that the world revolves around them and that we farmers are mere satellites, reflecting their wisdom,” continued Jefferson lightly. “But what about the printers?” inquired Franklin with a smile. “When they speak of themselves as men of substance, I find that they are mighty small potatoes, when they require a man of physic to keep body and soul together,” happily joined in Dr. Greydon. “Really, these commercial people are to be pitied,” said Franklin. “Their glory is of short duration. To-day they are princes of commerce, and to-morrow they are paupers. So we must be charitable with them and let them show how little they know, as they usually do in a bombastic way. Like a ‘tinkling cymbal’ and ‘a sounding brass’ their glory passeth as the night.” By this time a servant announced supper, and the three retraced their steps in jolly good humor to the mansion, for their appetites were unusually keen. At supper Dr. Franklin exclaimed when he tasted the wild fruit that Mollie had provided: “William, where did you get such delicious wild fruit?” “Why, sir, our daughter, Mollie, and Segwuna, the Indian maiden, gathered the best on the estate,” as he indicated Miss Mollie with a gesture of his hand, whereupon Mollie blushed inordinately “Did I understand you to say ‘Segwuna’?” asked the philosopher. “Segwuna, Segwuna,” he continued. “Why, Mr. Jefferson, we have heard that name before. It is so peculiar.” “Certainly, certainly, Doctor,” was Mr. Jefferson’s response. “She is the mysterious Indian maiden that has been such a constant attendant upon our meetings of Congress. Why, she would be at our door as we passed in, and still there as we passed out. She has been observed by several gentlemen. At all times she looks eagerly into our faces as though anxious for some sign or news that would please her. Her face lights up with an intelligence that haunts me ever since I first met her gaze. She seemed so pure and noble that I have been more than once moved at the presence of this lone Indian girl,—the sole representative of her race among the curious throng that have watched our deliberations. If she lives near by,” continued the statesman with much earnestness in his tone, “I would like to question her, and learn her purpose at the doors of Congress.” Dr. Greydon was surprised at this information and he replied with lively interest: “You certainly may see our forest child, Mr. “May I take you to the lodge of Segwuna, Mr. Jefferson?” enthusiastically questioned Miss Mollie, as her eyes danced with joy at the mention of her favorite companion by these distinguished gentlemen. “Segwuna,” she added, “has told me that great events were going to happen within the present moon and that great leaders of men were to come forth and proclaim the sweetest message from the Great Spirit that human kind had ever heard. “She has been to the meetings of Congress,” innocently burst out Segwuna’s companion, “to watch for what the Manitou has told her would come to pass, because she has told me all about it.” “How do you suppose the Indian maiden can foretell such great matters, Miss Mollie?” asked the venerable Dr. Franklin, who was really affected by the enthusiasm of his young friend. “Why, Mr. Franklin, there is much that is good and wise in Segwuna. She seeks out the poor and sick in the city and carries them medicine and game. She says that the rich are too proud and grasping to remember the poor. As the question had been answered most interestingly by Miss Mollie, Mr. Jefferson seemed to be seriously taken up with the philosophy of Segwuna, and turned to Dr. Greydon suggesting that they might go to the lodge of Segwuna and interview her upon the glowing topics of the day as the sage of Monticello remarked: “For we know not from what source we may gather wisdom that shall illumine our path.” When the meal had been finished, and the gentlemen had relished their pipes under the hemlocks, the whole party strolled on their way with Mollie as leader. They took the path past the mill on the Wingohocking and through the wild-wood trail in the soft light of the early evening to the lodge of Segwuna. Nothing could be more peaceful or simple in nature than the lone wigwam in a rift of the woods, approached by a well-beaten path through the underbrush. The curling smoke of a lazy fire was streaming skyward in the still evening air, with an atmosphere broken by no sound except the barking of an Indian’s dog. Kaubequa sat quietly at her wigwam entrance and when Dr. Greydon approached and greeted her in her own tongue, she replied and smiled as she asked Segwuna to step out and greet them. As the daughter obeyed, Mollie ran and took Segwuna by both hands, and led her toward Dr. Franklin and Mr. Jefferson,—both of whom bowed very low when Miss Mollie presented her shy Indian companion. As Dr. Franklin could discern serious eagerness in Mr. Jefferson’s countenance, he volunteered to unravel the Indian girl’s mind. “Segwuna, we have observed you at the meetings of Congress, and may we ask why you are so much interested in the proceedings?” asked Dr. Franklin, when he had been presented to Segwuna. “Certainly, Mr. Franklin,” answered the Indian maid, “Segwuna never misses a day. The Great Spirit is watching every word said in Congress. I am bound to do His bidding. He wishes Americans to be free and make all men equal. The Indians love liberty. The soil which the white man has adopted for his home, in the beginning was given by the Great Spirit to His When Mr. Jefferson had found much force in the first answer, he nervously continued with a question: “Do you believe, Segwuna, that this land of ours shall be free and prosperous forever?” “Yes, Mr. Jefferson, the Great Spirit in the first place gave the Indians this land. He told them that they would be given the means of subduing all of the earth, if they would only be industrious and cultivate the gift of corn and make good use of His gift. “If they did not make good use of the gift, his white brother would come and take his birth-right away. So, as the Indians heeded not what the Great Spirit commanded, his white brother has succeeded to all the good that the Indian’s corn was intended to be for the land.” Dr. Greydon was amazed at the answers already given and thought that something more than common knowledge was her heritage, so he attempted a question: “Is the Indian’s white brother to resist his enemy, the King across the water?” “O Segwuna, will you tell the gentlemen what the Great Spirit says shall come to the land of the Indians when the King shall cease to hold sway over it?” was the question of Mollie, who had heard Segwuna talk about these things before. “Yes, my sweetheart, I love to look upon my native land, the land of my forefathers, as the most powerful of the nations. But the Great Spirit must be obeyed, or the white brother of the Indian shall lose all like the Indian. “The Indians have lost their beautiful land because they did not make good use of the Great Spirit’s gift,—the Indian corn. They left the planting of it to the women, while they followed the chase. But the Indian’s white brother must make good use of this gift and become very powerful as the Great Spirit promised. Yet when the white man shall get too proud to eat the Indian’s corn for food, he then also shall lose this beautiful land. “If the King takes all of the corn away from his hunters and gives it to the chiefs, the Great Chief will become angry and take his corn away from his land so that the King and his chiefs shall have to become hunters too.” At the conclusion of this last answer, Mr. Jefferson stepped up to Segwuna and thanked her for her kindness, and handed her a silver coin. But at this last act Segwuna smiled and with polite dignity returned the coin and said: “The Great Spirit hath no token of worth except His bounteous love and kindness.” In return Mr. Jefferson seemed greatly pleased as he politely shook the hand of Segwuna and replied: “My dear child, you have a noble spirit and I shall remember what you have told us.” The other gentlemen shook the hand of Segwuna and Mollie kissed her as they left to return to the mansion. After a short period of silent reflection on the part of all, the good-humor of the old printer could not be held in as he solemnly said: “If the King of Great Britain does not subdue the Americans, he shall have to acknowledge the corn.” |