CHAPTER XX.

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A STRANGE LIFE-HISTORY.—AMONG THE RED INDIANS.

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La Salle had been, as we have said, displeased and disgusted, as well as puzzled, by much which had occurred; but his heart melted when he realized the sorrow and suffering, which, in spite of unusual self-restraint, was thus laid bare before him. He threw one arm around the boy's neck, and gently pressed his hand.

"Forgive me, Regnar, if I have been unkind. I will be your friend if you desire it. Confide in me, and I will try to assist you, if you need aid or counsel."

"You are kind, very kind, Charley; and perhaps I have been wrong in not trusting more in you heretofore. There is no time, however, like the present, and no more secret and fitting place than this burial-grot of the cause of all my sorrow."

Regnar's History.

"My father was a Danish youth of good parentage, whose strange and roving predilections sent him early in manhood to an outlying station in the north of Greenland, where, between his books and the wild life of that savage coast, he passed several years, until his unpleasant relations with the Danish officials made a change desirable, and he sought the Moravian settlements on the Labrador coast.

"He had plenty of money, and soon became well known along the coast, which he searched thoroughly in his trading schooner, doing a brisk business in furs, seal-oil, and skins, and at the same time making frequent metallurgical discoveries and adventurous exploring expeditions. It was said that no man on the coast knew so much of the topography of Labrador, between Hamilton Inlet and the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and a strange adventure opened to him new and startling experiences in the northern central portion of Newfoundland, then, as now, almost a terra incognita.

"Twenty years ago he made his last voyage down the coast, attended by the man who lies yonder, an American, named Perry, a native of Baltimore, who, it afterwards transpired, fled from that city, having killed an opponent in a political quarrel.

"Albert Perry was well educated, bold, and politic, and he formed a friendship with my father which ended only with life, and, as I believe, served him but too faithfully through good and ill, until death broke the bond between two men who were not fitted to lead the comparatively calm, eventless life which the laws of society, and the wants of the many prescribe to all; under penalty of social ostracism to the few who scorn to be fettered by a multitude of social conventionalities.

"With this man as mate, and a crew of four Esquimaux, my father found himself, in July, in one of the little harbors, on the Newfoundland shore, of the Straits of Belle Isle. The night was dark, but calm, and at about ten he retired, to be awakened an hour later by Perry.

"'Come on deck, captain; there's something going on up in the mountains yonder that I cannot make out.'

"My father, already half dressed, was soon upon deck, and found the whole crew on the after-deck, gazing eagerly at the hills, which, covered with forest, surrounded the low land at the head of the bay. Near the summit of the highest, a fire of large size had been kindled, and lit up the dark sky above it, and the tops of the surrounding trees, with a deep crimson glow, while from time to time unearthly and savage cries were borne on the night air to the ears of the wondering voyagers.

"'Have you any idea what that means, captain?' asked the American.

"'What do you say, Krasippe?' said my father, addressing a huge-shouldered Esquimaux, grizzled and scarred, who had followed his fortunes from Greenland, and knew all the lore of his wandering brethren of the Labrador coast.

"'Me tink it red Injin. Have dance; deer now come north. Marcus Jungsten, down at Hopedale, tell me he see such ting five year ago.'

"'But the red Indians are all dead, captain,' said Perry, who had spent a year or two on the coast, and heard many stories of the unconquerable ferocity and final extinction of that strange race—the aborigines of Newfoundland.

"'Such, indeed, is said to be the case, but I have met several who have seen and heard similar things, such as we hear and see to-night, and they refer them to the presence of remnants of that savage and solitary race. I shall soon know, however. Krasippe, will you get your rifle, and go with me?

"'I'll go with you, Hubel,' said Perry, eagerly.

"But my father stopped, and said, gravely,—

"'There is too much of danger in this adventure for us both to risk our lives at once. Krasippe belongs to me. I have saved his life half a score of times, but I have no claim on you; and, besides, the vessel must be taken back to Hopedale, and you must stay to do it;' and so saying, he retired to his cabin.

"When he returned, he carried in his hand a light rifle and a number of glittering wands, while a row of bright medals shone against the thick pile of a close-fitting robe of black velvet, and upon his head a cap of the same material, encircled by a strip of ermine, bore a single red feather, with an agraffe of diamonds.

"'I have done wonders with this dress, amid the fire-rocks of the Nasquapees. Krasippe, old fellow, are you ready?'

"Krasippe, grinning from ear to ear, nodded assent, and launching the captain's boat,—a light wherry for two pairs of sculls,—they pushed off from the vessel's side.

"'Watch that spot,' said Hubel, 'and if you see the stars of this Roman candle, launch your boat, and come to the shore at once. Vasa there,' pointing to a huge Danish hound, 'will find me for you, if need be.'

"An hour or two later, Perry saw the stars of green and crimson shooting through the lurid cloud into the midnight sky. A rifle-shot echoed through the valley and across the bay, and the fire was instantly extinguished. Perry, who had prepared everything for such an emergency, pushed off in his boat at once, taking his three men, all well armed, and Vasa, the great hound. Pulling at full speed, they struck in for the shore, and at last found the captain's boat hauled upon the beach. Taking the leash of the hound in his left hand, Perry sprang ashore, ordered his men to secure the boat, and lighting a dark lantern secured to his belt, he gave the word to Vasa, who set off, with an eager whine, at such a pace that it was hard to keep up with him.

In about half an hour they emerged into a large glade, and the hound stopped with a low howl over a prostrate body. It was that of Krasippe. He was lying on his face, with a deep gash on the shoulder, and a bruise on the top of the skull, but still breathed, although insensible. Perry, who doubted not that Hubel would be found near the body of his faithful follower, let slip the chain from Vasa's collar, and he at once darted off into the darkness, while Perry, drawing the slide of his bull's-eye, and pistol in hand, carefully examined the glade.

"He found the remains of a large fire, some ten feet in circumference, still steaming with the water used to quench it, a few fragments of venison, as well as a hatchet-head of white quartz, broken from its helve, not far from where Krasippe had received his wound; but they looked in vain for their captain.

"Morning had just dawned when Vasa reappeared, and wagging his tail, came up to Perry. Around his neck was looped a piece of birch bark, on opening which Perry found the following note:—

"'Among the Indians—Midnight.

"'I take my pencil to send you what may be my final directions, for as yet I am doubtful as to what may be my fate. Poor Vasa was about to be killed, as they dare keep no dogs; but I take advantage of his old tricks to send him to you. Take the vessel to Hopedale, and use her as if you were managing her for me, and next year at this time await me here. I have such an opportunity as no other man has had to learn the truth about these savages, and I risk my life willingly on the chance.

(Signed)"'Paul Hubel.'

"Perry seized Vasa's collar and knotted the leash, then, turning to his men, ordered them to take up Krasippe and carry him down to the shore, where, launching the boat, they returned to the vessel. The next day they made sail, but it was several days before Krasippe recovered sufficiently to detail his portion of the adventure, which ran somewhat as follows:—

"'Me land with capten. We go up hill trough de hood. We see ten, twelve, Injin almos' naked, eatin', drinkin', dancin', an' yell like debbil. Capten say, "Stay here, Krasippe; I get hind bush." Capten creep trough bush, light cannle, an' bust out trough circle to middle of fire. I see fifty Injin fright dat way. Dose Injin not frighten much. I see one man jump on capten, trow him down, raise hatchet to kill him. Then one girl catch at his arm, an' I fire my rifle. Then I see no more until I wake up.'"

"'Well, Krasippe, the captain is alive, and we are to meet him here in a year from now. In the mean time we'll try to navigate the Thyri, and make as much money for the skipper as we can;' and well he kept his word."

"A year later the Thyri crept again into the rock-bound haven, and for a week Perry and his crew watched by night and day for his friend. At last, one evening they saw a fire on the shore opposite the vessel, and rowing ashore, a strange figure rushed to meet Perry, saying, 'I am here at last.'"

"It was Hubel, but he was clad in tanned deerskins, ornamented with the dyed quills of the porcupine, and his face and naked breast were painted with a mixture of deer-suet and ocher, while from his hair, long, unshorn, and gathered into a knot, waved a plume of the war-eagle. His story I give in a few words."

"'I advanced cautiously, intending to surprise and awe the Indians, as I have before done with the heathen savages, who still hunt beyond the head waters of the Mistassini, in the Labrador peninsula. As Krasippe told you, I failed; but the strange garb that I wore, and the interposition of a woman, saved my life for the time being, and the wonders of my magic wands added to the first impression, and gave me an importance I could have acquired in no other way. The riches and weapons of the whites have no charms for them, and the memory of their massacred and hunted relatives will never die until the last of the race sleep amid the islands of the great lakes of the interior; but when they saw me shake coals of fire at will from a wand filled with pyrophoric lead, they felt at once that I must be of another race than their persecutors.'"

"'So they took me with them to the south, along the trail of the migrating reindeer; they gave me the best of their simple food and raiment, and the girl who saved my life came to my lodge, and served me with a love that I can never forget. She died in childbirth two months ago, and when I left the tribe to return to my own people, her father wanted to keep the infant, and at last I consented that he should remain with him a year longer. "Give me a token," said I, "and when, a year from now, you follow the deer northward, seek the bay, and if a vessel lies there at anchor, look each day in the glade for the signet of our bond. When you find it, leave the babe beside it, and I will take him across the ocean, and teach him to be wise and brave; then he shall come back to his tribe, and help them to become again a happy and powerful people.'"

"The Thyri went northward, and Hubel was received as one who returns from the dead; but none save his mate knew the whole story of his wanderings."

"'I have sworn to tell no one,' he said, in reply to all questionings, 'and should I break my oath, it would, in all human probability, cost the lives of the few remaining warriors of that unfortunate race. The people of Newfoundland can never blot out the memory of their past cruelties, and any party who strives to penetrate to their wilderness fastnesses, must either kill or be killed.'"

"Before the next year elapsed, Hubel was summoned back to Denmark, having succeeded to his father's property; but before leaving Hopedale, he had a final interview with his chief officer."

"'I give you, Perry, the Thyri and all her outfit, as well as the goods I have here, on one condition. You must keep the tryst I cannot keep, and bring the child you know of to the settlement at Hopedale. I have spoken to brother Hans, who will see after him until I send or come for him.'"

"'I will do your bidding, Paul; but I shall not stay upon this coast after that job is over. There will be nothing to keep me in this desolate land after you leave it;' and tears glistened in the eyes of that cool, cynical, worldly-minded adventurer, for he really loved my father."

"'When your work is done here, Albert, come to me in Denmark. There is enough for us both, and we have been so long together, that we shall never be happy apart. Will you come?'"

"Perry said nothing, but pressing the hand of his friend with painful energy, he rushed up the beach, and seeking the hill behind the little settlement, watched the ship as she sailed out of the firth and disappeared in the gathering twilight. The next summer he sought the appointed spot, and left this talisman tied to the top of a bush, which stood alone almost in the centre of the glade."

La Salle curiously examined the ring, whose gold circlet of European manufacture held securely an oval bit of jasper, on whose polished surface was cut the rude outline of a beaver wounded with an arrow.

"The next day he went again: the stone had disappeared; but two arrows, headed with flint, lay beside the bush, one pointed to the interior, the other to the shore. 'I suppose that means "I go, I return," said he; and I shall find the child here to-morrow night.'"

"He was right in his conjectures, for on going to the spot the next night, he found beneath the bush a little boy clad in a strange mÉlange of Indian finery, and the bizarre attire worn by Paul Hubel when he set out on his strange adventure. That child was myself."

La Salle had listened to the strange story with amazement, which increased as it progressed.

"You tell me, Regnie, though, only of good deeds and faithful services rendered by the dead. You say that he loved your father, and served him faithfully as long as he lived."

Regnar took up the word in bitter wrath, strangely mingled with regret.

"As long as he lived—yes! But listen only until the end, and you shall judge for yourself of my justice to the memory of the dead.

"On the breast of the babe lay the talisman, and a facsimile, pierced and suspended by a cord round the child's neck, lay beneath its clothing. See, I wear it still, and shall wear it until I meet again with my mother's people.

"I must hasten to end my story. I was taken to Hopedale, where I remained ten years, at the end of which time Perry was sent from Europe to take me to my father, who had taken to his home a daughter born of an earlier marriage, whose mother, unable to understand the caprices of my father, had returned, almost broken-hearted, to her father's house, and died during his voluntary exile in Greenland.

"I spent four years in Europe, studying most of the time at Bonn; and then my father sent for me, and I lived another year on his estate, learning all that I could of the various handicrafts and avocations, especially the best modes of agriculture. At the end of the fifth year, he called me into the library, and spoke to me as follows:—

"'You are now sixteen years of age, and you know that I have given you opportunities such as are seldom lavished on young men of your age. I would like to keep you with me longer, but I have told you of your mother, and the sufferings of her people. It is my wish that you should visit them within two years, and I have imparted to you much knowledge of their mode of life and government. Spend one year at Hopedale, and learn the lore of the fisherman and the craft of the hunter; and when I shall send you this ancient weapon, you will find within its hilt all that I dare not commit to paper, or the lips of my messenger.'

"The week after, I sailed for Hopedale; but before the year of my stay had elapsed, I learned from a friend's letter of the sudden death of my father. 'I suppose that your father's friend and your sister have joined you in America, and that you will be consoled somewhat for your loss by their affection, and your changed fortunes.'

"Thus ran the letter; but it was not until the arrival of the fall ship that I learned that my father was indeed no longer living, and that fully six months had elapsed since my sister, accompanied by the man who lies yonder, had set out to join her half brother, whom she had never seen, and to share with him the personal fortune of their common father; for the hereditary acres could not, by the laws of Denmark, fall to my lot, but went to the next nearest male relative.

"Since that time I have sought everywhere for tidings of my sister's fate, or news of the whereabouts of that man. I heard of him once as a slaver, and a year ago I learned of his having been seen on this coast. I have but one more explanation to make, and that is of the strange statement I made to you, when we stood alone looking across the moonlit waste of the drifting pack.

"About a month before you hired me at the trading post, I met Krasippe, now a very old man, and claiming some power as a prophet, or 'angekok,' among his people; for, although Christianized, they have not thrown off many of their old superstitions. He took me in his arms and wept over me, and growled a bitter curse on the treachery of his old associate. Then he appeared lost in deep thought, which seemed to absorb every sense, and his countenance became almost terrible in its fixed expression. At last, as if by no volition of his own, he uttered, in low, stern tones, the following rhapsody:—

"'You will meet in the desert of ice the man who will lead you to your heart's dearest wish. He shall lose, and you will gain.'"

La Salle's face was pale, and his lips firmly set, as he listened to the ending of this strange recital; but he took up the broken chain of evidence, with the firm intention of finding the missing links.

"Did you read my letter because you thought that Miss Randall might prove to be your sister?"

"Yes, Charley, I did. Her name was Pauline Hubel. She was named after our father, Paul Hubel. My name is Regnar Orloff Hubel."

"Well, Regnie, all I can tell you now is, that the young lady's English is not the best in the world, and that she is an orphan child. Of the whereabouts of her adopted father she knows nothing, but in a book which I took up there one day, I found written, 'A. P. Randall;' and Mrs. Randall said—"

"What?" asked Regnar, hoarsely.

"That it belonged to her brother. Now, Regnie," said La Salle, kindly, "you know all that I can tell you. Perhaps you may find in the hilt of yonder antique weapon the clew to much more. But we have other duties to perform; and first, how shall we seal up this cave so that no one can possibly suspect our having entered this place. That Peter has the eyes of a lynx, and should he follow us, would not fail to discover all."

"In an hour hence," said Regnar, "no human being can stand where we are now, and you can walk the stanchest hound over the ledge, without his dreaming of what lies beneath. Come up to the top of the berg."

Taking their equipments, they left the grotto, and issued through the narrow entrance. Regnar pointed to a shelving path, like a shallow groove in the face of the cliff.

"Can we climb there?" said he.

"I should think so," answered La Salle; and taking an axe and the end of the rope, he began to ascend the cliff along the shelving pathway. As he ascended, he heard behind him the blows of an axe, and, turning, saw Regnar cut a narrow cleft from the entrance of the cove to the level of the way to the top of the berg. "Are you mad," asked La Salle, "that you scatter your chips about the berg like that, and into the very pathway?"

Regnar gave a finishing stroke to his work, and came lightly up the path.

"I shall finish my work above," said he; and in a moment more they stood upon the summit.

The brink of the pool lay near the edge of the cliff, and without stopping to look around him, Regnar commenced cutting a deep, narrow gutter from the pathway to the huge reservoir. As he struck the blows which shattered the thin wall of ice between the pool and its new outlet, the water poured in a stream a foot deep through the little canal, and down the slanting ledge into the cavern below.

"I understand it now," said La Salle, "and I now know why you lashed the body to its support."

"Yes," answered the boy, coolly, "should any try to break into yonder tomb to-morrow, they would do so at the risk of their lives; but if we have a week of frost, the cove will be full to its outlet of solid ice."

"But, Regnar, let us think of something else. Where are the islands we saw last evening? We ought now to be near the southern shore of the group."

"We have been wedged off to sea by stranded ice, I should judge; for there, about fifteen miles to the northward, lies Amherst Island."

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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