Democratic Sentinel, Volume 17, Number 12, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 April 1893 — In Sheep's Clothing. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

In Sheep's Clothing.

By Capt. Ormond Steele

/CHAPTER XII. Colonel Graham could not have been mu h over 50 years of age, but he ordinarily looked to be 60, and now that he was suffering from a very unnecessary loss of blood, added to great mental anxiety, he might have passed for 70 a' least. His sickness called out a great interest, and the people of the town and the officers of the sea Hawk would have paid him every attention had he permitted it. Dinah’s visit was soon noised abroad, and created no little comment; but, as many of the humbler people, and some of the well-to-do also, hed great faith in her curative skill, it was generally believed that Colonel Graham had summoned her to examine his case. Unlike the majority of his race, Othello was reticent, and though he was pretty well subjected to the pumping prooess, be kept his own and his master’s secrets; the latter had suddenly become very heavy, but, being naturally shrewd, he bore the burden with a dim notion that it would turn out sooner or later to his advantage. His relationship to Dinah was not known outside themselves. The old woman called every man, white, black or red, “son, ” and she was usually called “granny.” Col. Graham could not afford to remain pent up in his room. It was essential that he should be off, yet evident to the doctor and even himself that he would not be able to make the journey overland to New York, for at least two weeks. “I am very anxions,” he said to Dr. Hedges, the day after Dinah’s visit, “to utilize my forced stay here by learning something of the aborigines. I have seen, here in your streets, Uncas, the Montauk chief, and his rarelv be/ u'iful sister, Untilla; if they be fair specimens of the natives, they are a people to be envied.” “They are hardly fair specimens,” said the doctor, who was an authority on Indian matters. “They belong to the royal race, and are descended from the great Wyandauch, with whom our first settlers —my father was one of them—made a treaty for the lands now held by the whites. A trip into the land of the Montauks would do you good; and if you desire to make it, I will see that they give you due care and a proper escort.” “They are hospitable, then?” “Yes, sir; as all brave people are.no matter where you find them.” “I thank you for your offer, and will start at once,” said Graham. He was emphatically a man of action, and so well did he exert himself, that by the early afternoon of that day, he was sitting on a horse, while his servant, mounted on another, led an animal laden with their luggage.

The young chief, Uncas,'being in town that day, was asked by Doctor Hedges to take charge of the colonel and his servant, and he did so with a readiness and grace that would have done credit to an accomplished courtier. Uncas on foot, and, with his long rifle thrown over his shoulder, strode ahead, and he would have kept on, without a halt, had not Colonel Graham stopped in front of Squire Condit’s house. The Colonel was not anxious to meet the Squire again, but on this occasion he could not avoid it, for that gentleman was standing in the road in front of his own house, and looked as if he wanted to be addressed. Approaching the Colonel, and laying his hand on the horse’s mane, the Squire said: “When you spoke to me last, you said there was something you wanted to get Ealph Denham to do, when you would answer a question I asked.” “I am aware of that,” said the Colonel, haughtily. “Well, I am ready.” “But is Capt. Denham here?” “You know he is not.” “Then it is impossible for you to fulfill your part of the condition, so with your permission we shall wait till he returns from New York.” “But you may not be here then.” “How do you know?" “I know but little about your past or present, unfortunately, and that little, I gues3, is not in your favor. You do not wish to speak now. Go on, we shall meet again before you leave, depend on that. ” Squire Condit, with a flushed face, turned toward his house, and the Colonel, followed by Othello, and preceded by the Montauk chief, rode on. “Why, Goodwill,” said Mrs. Condit, who, with her daughter Ellen, Lea Hedges, Valentine Dayton and the old Lieutenant, was looking over the flower garden, now in a most charming bloom, “you look to be excited. Has anything wrong been done to you?” Mrs. Condit had never seen Colonel Graham until his recent visit, and her husband, not caring to tiouble her, or it may be with the belief that one can keep a secret better than two, had never told her his suspicions and dislike of this man, nor hinted that he had ever received money from him for Kalph’s care. Squire Condit had a religious and also a manly hatred of falsehood, but being something of a lawyer he was inolined to caution and diplomacy, and had the skill to parry a direct question without throwing much light on it. “I have no sympathy with people whose curiosity takes them in among peaceful enough people if they are let alone. Some day one of these rich Englishmen will see the land of the Montauks —as did the spies of Joshua in the olden time —and they will conclude that it would make a fine estate and game preserve, and then they will send agents over here, and under 6ome tfumped-up treaty they will get the lands away from our red neighbors,” said the Squire. “Wasn’t that the way grandfather did?” asked Ellen, laughingly. “No, it wasn’t. The treaty with the great Wyandauch was fair, and has not been violated by Montauk or white man. I read it so often when I was a boy that I knew it by all the old spelling. Let me see; it begins: “April the 29th, 1648. “This present writing testifleth an agreement between the worship’ll Theophilus Eaton, Esquire, Governor of the Colony New Haven, and the worship’ll Edward Hopkins, Esquire, Governor of the Colony Cofinecticut, and their Astoyats on the one parte. And Poggatacut, Sachem of Munhausett, Wyandauch, Sachem of Meuntacut, Moniowetow of " Squire Condit would have gone clear through the agreement had not Valentine Dayton interrupted with the exclamation:

“I declare, Squire, your memory is remarkable. Strange how those old Indian names get twisted round from the original.” “Aye, and a pity it is. Now, I could give you some remarkable instances of the mutilation of native words; for instance, there’s Corchake ” Miss Condit mercifully saved the young people from hearing the Squire airing his Indian vocabulary by leading him into the house, on the plea of wanting him to taste her new raspberry vinegar. And so, after all, the Squire was not pumped. In the meantime Colonel Graham followed his guide, and when they had gone out of sight of the settlements the latter dropped back and said: “Here we are in the land of the Montauks, to which I bid you welcome. ” “I thank you,” replied Graham. “You have a beautiful land. How far does it extend to the eastward from here?” “As far as the island extends.” “And you cultivate the soil?” “The women do that,” said the chief, proudly. “Of course, but you have flocks and herds?” “Some, but the deer on the hills are our flocks, and the sword-lish in the sea are our herds. ” “You must lead a happy, independent life. How far is your settlement from here?” “We can reach it before the sun is there,,” replied the chief, pointing his rifle half way down the western sky. They went on with more speed, and early in the afternoon they came to a wooded elevation, from which they had a view to the eastward of a nearly treeless valley, in which were many houses of logs and bark, and beyond which there stretched a great pond that looked as large as an old world lake. To the south a glimpse of the great ocean could be had, while to the north there stretched away the placid blue waters of the Sound. “Does the black woman, Dinah, live here?” asked Graham, as they descended to the valley. “You mean the black priestess?” “Ah—perhaps—yes, I mean the black priestess. ” “There is her house,” said the chief, pointing to a cabin from the clay chimney of which the smoke was rising. “Do you all like her?" “Some do. I do not, though once I did like her,” said the chief. “And why did you change? "Because she was the friend of Ealph Denham.” “Then you do not like Denham?” “I hate him, and should he return and meet me alone, blood will be spilled.” “Why do you hate him?” Before replying, Uncas looked Graham full in the face, and was satisfied that he, too, had no liking for the sailor. “My sister likes him as she does her life.” “Oh, indeed. And you do not wish him to marry your sister?” “No. I wish he would marry Untilla; and leave Lea Hedges to the man who loves her as he never can.” “Ah, I see,’’said the colonel, on whom the light suddenly broke, and he regretted that be did not know of this before. Had he done so, he would have saved Fox —whom he trusted with reluctance—the trouble of making away with Ealph Denham, for here was a man anxious for the work, and amply able, with a little coaching, to carry it out. Uncas’ house differed only in size from the houses of the rest of the tribe; it was, in reality, a number of ordinary houses, connected by covered passage-ways.

Some ot the furniture had been procured from the whites, but the greater part—from which It must not bo inferred that there was a great deal of furniture —was of native manufacture. The chief and his sister bade Graham welcom, and, at the bidding of the former, a number of Indians appeared to take charge ot the horses. One of the houses was set apart for the use of Graham, and a small one adjoining was given to his servant. Women appeared to cook venison and fish before a great fire that was buiit before the chief’s house. Being very weary, Graham lay down in a buckskin hammock after supper, and Uncas, evidently glad to have his guest out of the way, shouldered his rifle and started, with the speed of a man who had an important object in view, for the eastward. After Uncas had gone out of sight of the Montauk village, he sat down on a rock, first taking a careful survey of the surrounding country. He had not been here very long when he heard the quick breathing and quicker steps of one running very fast. He did not look in the direction of tho sounds, but with his rifle across his knees he gazed steadily in the direction of the ocean, now lost to sight, for the first stars were gleaming in the east. “Uncas, I have come from the beacon hill,” said a young Indian, suddenly stopping before the chief and addressing him in the musical language of the Montauks. “The feet of Somonk,” said the chief, “are as the wings of the eagle.” _ “Yes,” replied Somonk, “but to me they are all too slow when they run to do the bidding of my chief.” “Did the white men reach the shore?” “They did. I saw them while yet the declining sun flashed on the headland of Montauk. “They came last night as was agreed?” “That I know not, but the young chief gave me this paper, and told me to hand it to you. ” Uncas had been taught to read and write by an aid clergyman named Bogert, who had taken a great interest in the conversion of the polytheistic Mcntauks. Striking a light with his flint and steel, the young ehief handed the flambeau to Somonk and tkji& opened the paper. it was neither dated norTfpgned, but was written in a large clear hand, and read as follows: “The Captain of the Wanderer will ever look on Uncas, chief of the Montauks, as a friend who is very warm in his heart. When four suns more have set the Wanderer will be at anchor off the beacon headland, a boat will come to the shore, and there Captain Fox will give to Uncas that whicti he promised. “Warriors win as often through silence and secrecy as by valor. “If Uncas helps his friend, he can conquer his enemy, and become master of that which is dear to him as liie.” The chief read this over three or four times, and then asked: “Somonk, can you guide me there in the darkness?” “I can,” was the reply. “How many of them are there?” “Three,” answered Somonk, holding up that number of fingers. “Go on and I will follow.” The chief waved his hand, and Somonk, how completely rested, took the advance. They moved on as silently as shadows. Along valleys and over hills till they could hear the roar of the ocean; and looking down from the rocky heights, they saw Frenauld and two companions (sitting about a Are on the shoze.

CHAPTER Xm. ■ CAVTAIN POX AND HIS OCXS* A happier man than Ealph Denham was the morning he sailed away from Sag Harbor, on the Wanderer, never paced a quarter deck. He was young, handsome and able, but in his joy he gave no thought to these, for vanity held no place in his brave heart But he was ordered to meet the authorities of the province, and he felt certain no sailor who ever left New York harbor had been more' successful than himself. He felt a glow of pride at the sense of a duty well performed, but it is doubtful if this would have elated him so much had the gratification, of what was now the control* ling impulse of his life, been wanting. Lea Hedges had pledged him her lov%* What if her astonished father stammered out objections without clearly defining them; the. young man felt that he could sot them aside, and that the clouds of mystery that enveloped hia origin would be dissipated or forgotten in the glow of a glory that was yet to be his. Ail nature was in harmony with his joyous frame of mind. He had loved the ocean from a boy; but never before did he feel that rapt sympathy that existed between his strongly throbbing heart and the gayly .lashing waters. He had cruise 1 among the Antilles, that gem with iropic growth the breast of the Caribbean, which fringed with beaded emeralds the hem of the old ocean’s mantle; but their remembered beauties wepe rank and garish, compared with the verdant islands which jeweled the hand Long Island Extended in greeting to the mainland. He was pacing the deck, watohing the fishing canoes of the Indians, and recalling a hundred happy days spent with them on these bays, when Captain Fox, who had been issuing commands in a way that showed he was a very thorough sailor, joined him, and said: “I intended going up through the Sound, but as I do not know the channel, hardly caro to risk it with this wind, and so will go outside. It will not make ten minutes’ difference in the time.” “I think I am familiar with every foot of the way up the Sound, and, if you permit me to act as pilot, I shall be happy to seive you in that capacity,” said Ealph. “And that you could do 6o better than any man that ever traversed that route, I am as sure as that we are here; but I could not permit the Captain of the Sea Hawk, that has covered herself with glory, to play pilot for the Wanderer, that has yet a reputation to make in these waters. No, with the southeast wind and the open sea before us, we can make the Narrows before the sun has set,” said Capt. Fox, as he passed his arm through Ealph Denham’s, and began walking back and forth, just as if they were the dearest friends in the world. On th“ part of one, at least, there was a feeling of regard that might in time grow into strong friendship; but on the part of the other there was an incapacity for everything that did not pander to his own avarice or feed his inordinate ambition. |TO BE CONTINUED-!