Littlepage Manuscripts: Satanstoe, The Chainbearer & The Redskins (Complete Edition)
though at what precise elevation could not yet be told. Our route had lain across hills, and through valleys, and along small streams; though, as I afterwards ascertained, the Hudson did not run far enough north to intercept our march; or rather, by a sudden turn to the west, it left our course clear. Had we inclined westwardly ourselves, we might have almost done that which Col. Follock had once laughingly recommended to my mother, in order to avoid the dangers of the Powles Hook Ferry, gone round the river.
A clearing now showed itself a little on our right; and thither the Indian held his way. This clearing was not the result of the labours of man, but was the fruit of one of those forest accidents that sometimes let in the light of the sun upon the mysteries of the woods. This clearing was on the bald cap of a rocky mountain, where Indians had doubtless often encamped; the vestiges of their fires proving that the winds had been assisted by the sister element, in clearing away the few stunted trees that had once grown in the fissures of the rocks. As it was, there might have been an open space of some two or three acres, that was now as naked as if it had never known any vegetation more ambitious than the bush of the whortleberry or the honeysuckle. Delicious water was spouting from a higher ridge of the rocks, that led away northerly, forming the summit of an extensive range in that direction. At this spring Susquesus stooped to drink; then he announced that our day’s work was done.
Until this announcement, I do not believe that one of us all had taken the time to look about him, so earnest and rapid had been our march. Now, however, each man threw aside his pack, laid down his rifle, and, thus disencumbered, we turned to gaze on one of the most surprisingly beautiful scenes eye of mine had ever beheld.
From what I have read and heard, I am now fully aware, that the grandest of our American scenery falls far behind that which is to be found among the lakes and precipices of the Alps, and along the almost miraculous coast of the Mediterranean; and I shall not pretend that the view I now beheld approached many, in magnificence, that are to be met with in those magic regions. Nevertheless, it was both grand and soft; and it had one element of vastness, in the green mantle of its interminable woods, that is not often to be met with in countries that have long submitted to the sway of man. Such as it was, I shall endeavour to describe it.
Beneath us, at the distance of near a thousand feet, lay a lake of the most limpid and placid water, that was beautifully diversified in shape, by means of bluffs, bays, and curvatures of the shores, and which had an extent of near forty miles, We were on its eastern margin, and about one-third of the distance from its southern to its northern end. Countless islands lay almost under our feet, rendering the mixture of land and water, at that particular point, as various and fanciful as the human imagination could desire. To the north, the placid sheet extended a great distance, bounded by rocky precipices, passing by a narrow gorge into a wider and larger estuary beyond. To the south, the water lay expanded to its oval termination, with here and there an island to relieve the surface. In that direction only, were any of the results of human industry to be traced. Everywhere else, the gorges, the receding valleys, the long ranges of hills, and the bald caps of granite, presented nothing to the eye but the unwearying charms of nature. Far as the eye could reach, mountain behind mountain, the earth was covered with its green mantle of luxuriant leaves; such as vegetation bestows on a virgin soil beneath a beneficent sun. The rolling and variegated carpet of the earth resembled a firmament reversed, with clouds composed of foliage.
At the southern termination of the lake, however, there was an opening in the forest of considerable extent; and one that had been so thoroughly made as to leave few or no trees. From this point we were distant several miles, and that distance necessarily rendered objects indistinct; though we had little difficulty in perceiving the ruins of extensive fortifications. A thousand white specks, we now ascertained to be tents, for the works were all that remained of Fort William Henry, and there lay encamped the army of Abercrombie; much the largest force that had then ever collected in America, under the colours of England. History has since informed us that this army contained the formidable number of sixteen thousand men. Hundreds of boats, large batteaux, that were capable of carrying forty or fifty men, were moving about in front of the encampment, and, remote as we were, it was not impossible to discover the signs of preparation, and of an early movement. The Indian had not deceived us thus far, at least, but had shown himself an intelligent judge of what was going on, as well as a faithful guide.
We were to pass the night on the mountain. Our beds were none of the best, as the reader may suppose, and our cover slight; yet I do not remember to have opened my eyes from the moment they were closed, until I awoke in the morning. The fatigue of a forced march did that for us which down cannot obtain for the voluptuary, and we all slept as profoundly as children. Consciousness returned to me, by means of a gentle shake of the shoulder, which proceeded from Susquesus. On arising, I found the Indian still near me, his countenance, for the first time since I had known him, expressing something like an animated pleasure. He had awoke none of the others, and he signed for me to follow him, without arousing either of my companions. Why I had been thus particularly selected for the scene that succeeded, I cannot say, unless the Onondago’s native sagacity had taught him to distinguish between the educations and feelings of us three young men. So it was, however, and I left the rude shelter we had prepared for the night, alone.
A glorious sight awaited me! The sun had just tipped the mountain-tops with gold, while the lake and the valleys, the hill-sides even, and the entire world beneath, still reposed in shadow. It appeared to me like the awakening of created things from the sleep of nature. For a moment or more, I could only gaze on the wonderful picture presented by the strong contrast between the golden hill-tops and their shadowed sides—the promises of day and the vestiges of night. But the Onondago was too much engrossed with his own feelings, to suffer me long to disregard what he conceived to be the principal point of interest. Directed by his finger, and eye, for he spoke not, I turned my look towards the distant shore of William Henry, and at once perceived the cause of his unusual excitement. As soon as the Indian was certain that I saw the objects that attracted himself so strongly, he exclaimed with a strong, guttural, emphatic cadence—
“Good!”
Abercrombie’s army was actually in motion! Sixteen thousand men had embarked in boats, and were moving towards the northern end of the lake, with imposing force, and a most beautiful accuracy. The unruffled surface of the lake was dotted with the flotilla, boats in hundreds stretching across it in long, dark lines, moving on towards their point of destination with the method and concert of an army with its wings displayed. The last brigade of boats had just left the shore when I first saw this striking spectacle, and the whole picture lay spread before me at a single glance. America had never before witnessed such a sight; and it may be long before she will again witness such another. For several minutes I stood entranced; nor did I speak until the rays of the sun had penetrated the dusky light that lay on the inferior world, as low as the bases of the western mountains.
“What are we to do, Susquesus?” I then asked, feeling how much right the Indian now might justly claim to govern our movements.
“Eat breakfast, first”—the Onondago quietly replied; “then go down mountain.”
“Neither of which will place us in the midst of that gallant army, as it is our wish to be.”
“See, bye’m by. Injin know—no hurry, now. Hurry come, when Frenchman shoot.”
I did not like this speech, nor the manner in which it was uttered; but there were too many things to think of, just then, to be long occupied by vague conjectures touching the Onondago’s evasive allusions. Guert and Dirck were called, and made to share in the pleasure that such a sight could not fail to communicate. Then it was I got the first notion of what I should call the truly martial character of Ten Eyck. His fine, manly figure appeared to me to enlarge, his countenance actually became illuminated, and the expression of his eye, usually so full of good-nature and fun, seemed to change its character entirely, to one of sternness and seventy.
“This is a noble sight, Mr. Littlepage,” Guert remarked, after gazing at the measured but quick movement of the flotilla, for some time, in silence—“a truly noble sight, and it is a reproach to us three for having lost so much time in the woods, when we ought to have been there, ready to aid in driving the