The Emigrant's Lost Son Part 9

I replied by saying that we could not tell G.o.d of anything that he did not already know, and that prayer and thanksgiving were due from us all to one so beneficent. I then explained to him that his condition of darkness in religious matters was once the condition of all mankind, and that it was only by reflection, and the intercommunication of minds, that the little light our forefathers possessed was obtained, until at length G.o.d sent his only Son to reveal the truth to us. I then repeated the Lord's Prayer, and promised to teach it to him in his own language if he would use it.

He replied that he must have time to consider of it. A few days after he requested that I would not talk in that way any more to him, adding, that they were all my own sayings, meaning they were things of my own invention.

"You have consulted your father," said I. He acknowledged that he had, laughing at the same time, as if I had been a subject of their ridicule. Up to that moment I had flattered myself that I should have been spiritually of service to him, and perhaps through him, to more of his race. His father, however, was an enemy to civilized man, and inimical to innovations of every kind.

It appeared from a traditional story, which Pecoe subsequently related me, that at some former period these people had been visited by a party of missionaries, the particulars of which I an induced to give, as a caution to gentlemen who labour in such arduous undertakings as those of converting heathens to Christianity.

"Some white men," said Pecoe, "came here a long time since, and brought strange talk about the Great Spirit and his Son, (that is, about our blessed Saviour), to which our people agreed to listen, upon condition, that every time they attended they should receive a bottle of rum.

They did attend," continued Pecoe, "but in a short time the white men wanted them to come and listen for nothing, and so broke their contract." Scrupulously punctual to their own engagements, the Indians, immediately on the withholding of the rum, took a prejudice against the missionaries, which no subsequent conduct on the part of the latter could remove, or perhaps will ever efface from the memory of the former. Thus has a stumblingblock been placed in the way of all future adventurers among them in the cause of Christianity. As soon as I was made acquainted with these particulars, I resolved to undertake the defence of the missionaries' conduct, and at least, lessen the prejudice against them. With this view, I availed myself of the first large a.s.semblage of the natives, and opened the subject by inquiring how long it was since the white men had visited them, which way they came, and lastly, by what road they returned? suggesting, that perhaps the same road might lead me to a European colony, where I might have a chance of hearing from my friends.

[Sidenote: Defence of the missionaries]

An aged Indian replied to these inquiries, adding, that he had no great opinion of the white men who came there; and on asking how they had conducted themselves, he related the story in nearly the same words as I had heard it from Pecoe. I then explained the good intentions of the persons who subscribed money to spread the truths of the gospel, and the great sacrifices made by those who consented to give up the charms of civilized life for the good of the poor unenlightened heathen. I then went on to say, that with respect to the presents of rum, it was natural, after the missionaries had taken the trouble to study their language, and to travel so far, to adopt any means to secure a hearing, without which, no good could possibly accrue to the objects of their mission. Although, I continued, they might at first hold out some inducement to be heard, yet it was unreasonable to expect that persons so far away from home and their resources could continue to find the means of making repeated presents in order to tempt persons to their own good.

When I had finished, some of the Indians laughed, others shook their heads, indicating disapprobation, and a hint that I had better be silent. Upon the whole, though I pushed the matter somewhat strongly, I failed in making any impression on the auditors.

With regard to natural objects, I question if there be a more acute and observing people in the whole world; yet they are wholly a people of feelings, being evidently deficient in intellect. Their imagination and understanding are both at a low ebb, as I could never extend their ideas beyond their own path of life. At times I gave Pecoe credit for possessing a more lively imagination than others of his tribe; but as I knew more of him, this impression died away. In the highly cultivated walks of society, manhood is the period when the feelings are predominant. Imagination prevails in youth, and the understanding in old age. These people are in the middle stage of progress; and as they possess the purest moral notions of right and wrong, cannot be incapable of receiving the truths of revealed religion. The highest degree of moral elevation can only be attained by carefully cheris.h.i.+ng the more benevolent and kindlier feelings of nature; that is, by cultivating the good pa.s.sions, and throwing into disuse the bad ones.

The Indians with whom I lived, effected these objects in a very high degree; for I never saw an instance of any violent exhibition of temper among them, and it was always a matter of astonishment to me to see how exceeding tractable their children were without severity on the part of the parents.

In the moral sense of the word, they were good; and if they had been Christians, would have been deemed examples for more refined nations.

"A good man, and an angel! these between, How thin the barrier? What divides their fate?

Perhaps a moment, or perhaps a year; Or, if an age, it is a moment still."

The following anecdote will not only ill.u.s.trate the kind feelings of the Indian's heart, but also exhibit his delicacy in bestowing a favour. I had for some time been uneasy at not being able to contribute, by my exertions, a fair share towards the provisions of the common stock of those with whom I resided; and this uneasiness was frequently expressed to Pecoe, the princ.i.p.al difficulty being the want of a canoe--for these vessels were not constructed in general to carry more than one person; I was thus precluded from sharing in the daily excursions on the water.

[Sidenote: Gift of a canoe]

Pecoe, as I have said, knew that I felt this want, and one morning surprised and delighted me, after a walk in the woods, where he pointed out the silk cotton tree as the material out of which they made canoes.

"Why," exclaimed he, as he took a turn towards an inlet of the great river, "here is a canoe already made for you; come, help me to launch it, and let us see how it fits you when afloat." I had recently, for several long intervals, missed him, and having, when inquiring the cause of his absence, received equivocal replies, I thought it was occasioned by some duty connected with his family, and had in consequence forborne to notice it again. He had, however, been in the wood, fas.h.i.+oning a canoe for my use, being the most valuable present he could, at that juncture, have made me; and the manner in which he conducted the matter, considerably enhanced its value. I was now as rich in property as any of the natives, whose ambition seldom soars beyond the possession of a canoe and a stock of hunting and fis.h.i.+ng implements, which my friend Pecoe did not forget to provide with the canoe.

My health being perfectly restored, I now joined in all the sports followed by the natives, having previously, at Pecoe's earnest solicitation, learned to swim. Time ran on smoothly, the morning invited me to the woods (my natural home) to hunt for game.

"On a sweet s.h.i.+ning morning, thus drawn out, It seem'd what man was made for, to look round And trace the full brook, that, with clamorous route, O'er fallen trees and roots, black curling, wound Through glens, with wild brakes scatter'd all about."

The days did not linger in their progress, nor did night arrive too soon, the changes being all attended with enjoyments.

"Night bringeth sleep To the forest deep, The forest bird to its nest, To care, bright hours, And dreams of flowers, And that balm to the weary--rest."

Discontent is man's great enemy. I believe that, const.i.tutionally, I was fitted to enjoy any station to which the Almighty, in his wisdom, might call me; yet even contentment may be carried to an extreme, and degenerate into apathy, or the want of a healthful spirit into indolence.

Soft leisure hath her charms, and the bliss of her votaries is to bask in summer rays through the day under the greenwood tree; but however soothing or pleasant this may be to the reflective mind, the common duties of life should not be neglected. I had parents, relations, and friends, all of whom had more or less been rendered unhappy by my loss in the woods; and I now became impressed with a notion that I had not been sufficiently active in using means for my restoration.

I had indeed escaped the mazes of the forest by the inundation--an event in which the hand of Providence was conspicuous; for had not the flood-gates of the firmament been opened, I might still have remained in my forest prison. I now asked myself why I did not stir and exert all the energies the same Providence had bestowed on me, to reach the nearest European colony and seek advice as to the proper mode of proceeding to discover the home of my parents. All my moments of leisure were now filled up with self-reproaches. The deep solitude of the woods, I thought, had enchanted me, and now the wild charm of a free and roving life was weaning me from duty. These were errors which, I thought, demanded a rigid retribution; yet at intervals I was in no want of excuses to extenuate my conduct. I reflected on the extraordinary flexibility of our nature, which accommodates and adapts itself to all circ.u.mstances; and, that the reality of our existence is the present moment, the exigencies of which are inimical to prudent resolutions.

Of man's generic character there is much yet to be written; the change of climate, food, scenery, society, together with a thousand contingent circ.u.mstances that follow in their train, all produce effects unappreciable by those whose lives have been bounded by one circle. Of all animals, man best endures the changes of food and climate. It therefore follows that his physical construction is more changeable; but in proportion as the body undergoes a change, and adapts itself to the circ.u.mstances of its situation, so will the feelings, temper, and mind also undergo some change, and more or less affect the character of the individual.

[Sidenote: Forgetfulness of home]

In reference to my own case, and the experience derived from it, this is the best solution I can give of the pa.s.sive submission with which I accommodated myself to the manner of life into which my waywardness had cast me. If we pa.s.s from man to the influence of climate on other animals, the effect on dogs is very remarkable. In Kamtschatka, instead of the dog being faithful and attached to his master, he is full of deceit and treachery; he does not bark in the hot parts of Africa, nor in the extreme cold countries of the north; in Greenland he loses his fitness for hunting and his character for docility. If this subject were pursued, it might be added that the African slaves, when removed from their own country to the West Indies, undergo a marked change of character. The American settlers too, have changed in character since their first settlement in that country, as also have the Anglo-New Hollanders. The temperate zones appear to be the most favoured regions for the full development of the human powers, whether physical or moral, especially of the principle of sympathy, that vicegerent of the divine benevolence in our world, which is capable of binding up all the wounds that sin and death have introduced into it.

As we are all, however, too much swayed by the considerations of pleasure and pain, it is probable, that had I been cast into regions subject to a rigorous winter, I should have been more anxious to have escaped from the forest. Perpetual summer, however, beguiled me from my resolution, and being unprovided with a defence against ease and indolence, years pa.s.sed on while I was only dreaming of home and friends.

The hand of Providence, notwithstanding, continued over me, and in a miraculous manner took me from savage life.

The sun's departing red rays were s.h.i.+ning on the surface of the river, as Pecoe, myself, and three other youths were hastening in our canoes to reach home before night should set in, when I heard the stroke of oars, that indicated the approach of a boat's crew. I have before said that an inexplicable feeling came over me whenever I thought that I was in approximation with those who might be the means of conveying me again into civilized life. On this occasion I was for the moment paralysed. Pausing to a.s.sure myself of the reality of the sounds, I heard Pecoe and his companions calling to me to pull towards the opposite sh.o.r.e, from whence the sounds proceeded, and turning round to ascertain the direction they were pursuing, I caught sight of a long-boat, manned with ten sailors, just turning a point of land which had hitherto screened them from my view. The Indians were still calling to me, but it was too late. With the usual celerity of British sailors, the boat in a few seconds was abreast of my canoe. The officer who commanded the crew pulled my canoe aft, and after scrutinizing my countenance, e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, "The boatswain is right--an European; but not, as he supposed, a runaway convict; it's the wrong lat.i.tude for that kind of fish;" continuing, "Come, young man, step into our boat: we are in want of some information with which you may furnish us."

[Sidenote: Impressed on board an English s.h.i.+p]

I hesitated, then made some reply in English, when one of the sailors exclaimed, "I told Tom that he was a Briton."

"I am glad I have met with a countryman," resumed the officer, who held the canoe fast as he offered his hand to a.s.sist me into his own boat; but as I still hesitated, he affected to stumble, and in the action drew me over the bow of the canoe, which constrained me either to jump into the s.h.i.+p's boat or fall into the river. When seated beside the lieutenant, I had in some measure recovered from my surprise; I inquired whether the practice of pressing in the British navy was revived.

"It is not," replied the lieutenant, "but I shall feel myself justified in detaining you until I have the particulars of your history, and learn especially what brought you into this part of the world."

All this time the boat was proceeding down the river, and had carried me out of sight of my Indian friends. When I informed the officer that I had been lost when a boy, he replied--

"Then you are now found; but have you a knowledge of this river?"

"From hence upwards I have," said I. "having accompanied the Indians in their farthest migrations."

"Make your mind easy," rejoined the officer, "I shall introduce you to the captain of our brig."

It appeared that the boat had been sent out by a government brig which was on a survey in the river Amazon, to ascertain the course of one of its tributaries. Late in the evening of the following day we reached the s.h.i.+p, and when my story had been heard by the captain, he at once determined on taking me with him, saying that he should find means of sending me to Berbice, the point, he judged, from which my father had started, and to which place he thought it probable my father would in the first instance transmit an account of my having been lost; and where also it was likely some arrangement had been made for providing me with the means of finding my way to his residence.

The brig remained two months on the survey, and then sailed for Halifax, crossing the Mexican bay, where I had an opportunity of witnessing the extraordinary phenomena produced by a large body of fish that at one time surrounded the vessel. The sea was like one field of fireworks, all sparkling with serpents and silver spangles; the mind, when contemplating such scenes, is lost in amazement at the prodigious number of living things the regions of the sea contain. But whether the naturalist turns to the woods and the water, or explores the cloud-capt mountains, the sequestered cave, or the rocky cliffs, he will at first be embarra.s.sed at the sight of the variety of objects that claim his attention; and it is only by learning how to distinguish them in a methodical manner that the mind can be brought to contemplate them in detail.

On board the vessel I was supplied with a sailor's dress, but the force of habit was so strong that for a considerable time I could not wear it with any comfort to myself. The captain was faithful to his promise, and from Halifax sent me in a merchant vessel to Demerara, with a letter addressed to the British consul at that station. On my arrival I presented myself before that authority, who the next day produced a colonial newspaper in which I had seven years previously been advertised, and a reward offered for my recovery, and in which also the name of an agent was mentioned who would defray any costs incurred on the occasion.

[Sidenote: Return to society]

Fortunately that gentleman was still in the colony, who, after satisfying himself of my ident.i.ty, promised to avail himself of the earliest opportunity to restore me to my family. The location of my father's property was on the remote banks of a branch of the Amazon river, to which few vessels traded, there was therefore no possibility of reaching it otherwise than overland, as the family had previously done. For some time after my arrival in Demerara, I found myself an object of interest, receiving invitations from most of the respectable inhabitants; while my appearance in the streets excited a sensation.

Although I was much pleased with the opportunity of attending public wors.h.i.+p, where I might collect and concentrate the scattered ideas I retained of my father's faith, yet the ceremonies and forms of society appeared ridiculous to me, and were very irksome.

[Sidenote: First sight of home]

[Sidenote: The brother and sister]

[Sidenote: Rengal]

I received marked attention and kindness from the gentleman who had been advertised as my father's agent, and an opportunity soon occurred for him to place me under safe escort to my home. Two gentlemen were about to journey near to where my father resided, and they kindly undertook my safe conveyance. They were entrusted with a letter from the agent to my father, which was to be delivered into no other hands but his own. I can scarcely describe my delight when all was in readiness for our departure and we set out on our journey. My feelings of impatience grew more uncontrollable every day. The thoughts of home and the prospect of again beholding all I held dear on earth made my pa.s.sage appear a lifetime;--tedious and protracted as it was I shall pa.s.s it over now, as it had no incident that was at all attractive to me--until we arrived at the Amazon River, whose clear surface I hailed with indescribable delight, as I knew then we were not far from my father's estate. Following its course for a day we arrived towards the afternoon at a plantation of cotton, the proprietor of which informed me that we were within two miles of my father's house. He had heard the particulars of my absence, but declined to comply with my request to go and inform the family of my arrival. The reason he a.s.signed was that he had lately been engaged in a dispute with my father, and therefore could not undertake my mission--adding that the alteration in my appearance, living as I had from the age of thirteen to twenty in the wilderness, would be sufficient to prevent them from recognising me at first. I then inquired for my uncles, and was informed that one had sold his land and returned to England, and that the other (the widower) was dead. This unchristian man also informed me that, in his opinion, I had been given up as entirely lost by my family. As the day was advancing, I waited no longer to hold converse with him, but abruptly turned away, disgusted with his apathy and want of feeling. As we proceeded towards my home, I consulted with the two gentlemen who were my guides what course to adopt in breaking the intelligence of my return, to my family, as I felt a dread of presenting myself too precipitately after so long an absence, being naturally fearful that the shock would be more than my mother could sustain. We deemed it prudent, therefore, to send the letter by one of my guides, while I waited the result close by. Our precautions, however, were not carried into effect, as an incident occurred which rendered them unnecessary.

I had arrived in sight of my father's habitation, and paused on a slight eminence to contemplate with mingled feelings of surprise, delight, and fear, the spot made sacred by the affections which were centred there, with all the ties which bound me to the world--that spot which, from the meanest to the n.o.blest in every land, is the only haven of refuge from the troubles and travail in this life, and which finds a ready response in every heart by the one magic word--home! I had not felt its cheering influence for now more than six years. An outcast and a wanderer for that period, how often in the loneliness of my forest life had I yearned to be again restored to it, and to find, like the dove of old, a place of refuge and rest--an ark, and a covenant.

But now, as the fruition of my hopes appeared to be realized, I paused, spell-bound and overpowered by the many conflicting feelings which the sight of it had conjured up. The memory of all the incidents of my early life--the days of childhood--the school-boy troubles--the many acts of parental kindness evinced in a thousand ways--were all pictured to my sight in one rapid glance. And then the terrible foreboding presented itself, that I might not find my family circle as I had left them--alive and in health. In the history of the world six years is but a speck of time; but with individuals the case is widely different.

I had lost one uncle, and the fear came across me that my loss might not be ended thus. I almost dreaded to make the inquiry, as I felt incapable of bearing such a calamity. It was a beautiful mansion which lay before me. The large and well-built house, surrounded with thick foliage--the carefully cultivated grounds surrounding it--the broad and extensive landscape beyond of richly wooded hill and dale--the wide and meandering river by whose banks I had been guided thither--gave to the scene a lofty grandeur. While standing thus irresolute, a young man of some five or six and twenty was advancing towards us; he had on his arm a female, with whom he appeared to be chatting familiarly. I watched them as they came near us, and from the young man's appearance judged him to be one of the settlers here. As they approached, I heard their voices more distinctly. That of the female fell upon my ear in well remembered tones. There could be no mistaking them, I knew it to be the voice of my sister. But ah! how changed she was. The laughing merry girl had grown into a staid and matronly woman. I could hardly believe it possible; but to a.s.sure myself, I inquired of her companion if that was the residence of Mr. Howard. My sister started as I spoke, turned pale, and looked at me intently. I suppose I was changed; indeed, there was but little doubt of that--but changed as I was, she could not be deceived. She trembled, and would have fallen, had I not caught her in my arms in a fond embrace. The first surprise over, she laughed and cried by turns, and overwhelmed me with caresses. Then the numberless inquiries she had to make! One after the other in such rapid succession, without waiting for replies. I know not what the three spectators of the scene must have thought; but no doubt they deemed her frantic, and, indeed, for the time, I believe she was. My first inquiry was about my parents. They were both well. She had left them a few minutes previously. Her companion she introduced to me as her husband. She told me, also, that she had two children, a little boy and girl. We arranged our plan, if it could be called arrangement, where all was mad delight; she insisted that my two guides should go home with her husband for that evening, as his house was close by, and deliver the letter in the morning, while she and myself went home to our parents. When we had arrived at the house, I detained her from entering until I had peeped in at the window to take a glance at its inmates. There was a light in the interior, and I could observe all distinctly. I saw my father seated in a comfortable apartment, quite unconscious of any one observing them. My father was reading aloud one of the local papers. He wore spectacles; I remember to have been struck with this, otherwise, my mother and he were not at all changed.

The same as I had left them--the old familiar faces, remembered from earliest childhood--the old familiar faces, it made a child of me again to gaze on them. Presently my sister entered, and from her hurried manner and sudden return, they seemed surprised. She said something, I did not know what, but my father rose, and hastily throwing down the paper, gazed wonderingly on my sister. I waited no longer--another moment--I was on my knees before my mother, buried in her embrace. She wept over me, her truant boy, tears of joy. Who of us has not felt the depth and purity of a mother's love? Who hath not found, be his errors what they might, that there was one gentle spirit to turn to, ever ready to pardon, protect, and solace? I felt the force of this doubly then. And now, when past the meridian of my life, I look back through the long vista of the past, the self-devotedness of a mother's love s.h.i.+nes forth as something "which lighted up my way of life," never to be forgotten. My father could scarcely find utterance, from excess of joy at my return. I recounted to him a brief summary of all I had gone through since I had been lost, and half that night was pa.s.sed in the details of my story. My sister did not return to her own home till the following morning, when I accompanied her. Another surprise awaited me. I saw Rengal and his father working on our estate. They had become devoted and trustworthy servants of the family, being employed as free labourers. It seemed that my father had inst.i.tuted a vigorous search for me, and had engaged them many months for that purpose, believing their acquaintance with the country would be of infinite service in the undertaking. Their labours, however, proved fruitless, as my reader already knows. Ultimately, pleased with their faithful conduct, and evident anxiety to accomplish my restoration, he engaged them as a.s.sistants on his farm, where they had remained ever since.

Their surprise and extravagant delight when I made myself known, exceeded all bounds; and although, perhaps, I compromised my dignity, I was obliged, in spite of myself, to burst out into a fit of immoderate laughter. There was a degree of comicality about these people which was perfectly irresistible, the more so, as they could not at all comprehend it themselves. The old negro informed me that he had discovered his daughter, and my sister's husband had purchased her freedom, and engaged her as a domestic in his house.