CHAPTER I.

THE INDIAN OUTBREAK.

"What signifies my deadly standing eye,
My silence and my cloudy melancholy,
My fleece of woolly hair, that now uncurls
Even as an adder, when she doth unroll
To do some fatal execution?
Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,
Blood and revenge are hammering in my head."

Titus Andronicus.

THE banks of the Wandoo, in South Carolina, display some of the most diversified and beautiful scenery that is to be found in any part of the Southern States. The rich soil along the banks of this river, is possessed by opulent planters, who reside almost constantly on their extensive plantations, surrounded by crowds of slaves, and display all that easy luxury, and free hospitality, for which the Carolinian planters have been so long and so justly famed.

Of all the planters in that district, few ranked higher than Mr. Bellgrove of Bellgrove, whose family connexions extended far and near throughout the State. Mr. Bellgrove had taken the lead in society around him, until, in a predatory incursion of the Cherokee Indians, his plantation had been destroyed; and his only son-a youth of much promise-seized and carried away by the savages. From that hour no tidings were heard of the fate of the young man; and the melancholy event was soon followed by the death of Mrs. Bellgrove, whom grief for the loss of her son hurried to an early grave. Sick of the world, Mr. Bellgrove retired from society, and secluded himself on his own estate, shunning all intercourse with his wealthy neighbours, and leaving the management of his

VOL. X.-NO. CIX,

plantation to his kinsman and overseer, Mr. Joolay -a rude, unpolished Kentuckian-who ruled with despotic sway over the negro slaves intrusted to his

care.

Early one morning, about two years after the destruction of Bellgrove Plantation by the Indians, two negroes were plying their hatchets on the trunk of a tree close by the banks of the Wandoo. One of them was a noble-looking youth, of remarkable regularity and beauty of features. Unlike the gener ality of the negro race, his figure was handsomely formed, and shown to much advantage by the neat arrangement of his dress, which was of finer materials than that commonly worn by slaves. His companion-who was attired in the ordinary slavedress-was a chubby, merry-faced, blubber-lipped, flat-nosed negro, who seemed to love laughter and good cheer, and to cherish a thorough negro antipathy to labour; which latter feeling he evinced by repeatedly laying down his hatchet, and stretching his limbs, with a yawn which displayed his capacious mouth from ear to ear.

"Come, Whackie, you must get forward with your work before Mr. Joolay comes round," said his fellow-labourer: "you can't be tired already." "I is always tire ob dis work," said Whackic, reluctantly resuming his hatchet. "I wish Massa Joolay was at de debil wid all a heart. 'Tis bery kind ob you Zama to come and help I so—but how you like dis workee workee all day?"

"Well enough," answered Zama, "if I saw our poor fellow-negroes looked upon as men and Christians."

"Goley, Zama!" cried Whackie, "Bucera tink

we nigger is no men: and den what right hab nigger for be Christine?"

"Alas!" sighed Zama, "there is nothing but oppression for the poor negro race."

"Goley!" chuckled Whackie, "if dat be nigger wages, we is always well paid!"

"I grieve to say that you are right," answered Zama, deeply sighing.

"Well," said Whackie, after a pause, " you tink dat Massa Joolay sall go to heben?"

I

"All good men go there," answered Zama. "Ah! boy, but Massa Joolay no good man. tink um go oder place, an' poor nigger flog um when um is dere. I no like for workee; but Massa Joolay make me workee like a slave!"

"And what are you but a slave?" said Zama. Nothing provokes a negro quicker than to be called a slave, as the name sounds, even in his ears, like an insult; and Whackie, enraged at the epithet, threw down his hatchet, exclaiming, "Come, boy! no call decen' people names. Lookee, Zama, I no work anoder stroke; an' Massa Joolay may go dam for I!"

"Mr. Joolay," said Zama, "may miss the sound of your axe, and make you feel his whip." This hint had the desired effect; and Whackie, taking up his axe again, growled,

"Workee work from morn till night;

Why should black man stoop to white?'

If I was been born planta', an' hab white slave, Lor! how I flog 'em up!" and indulging in this fancy, he plied his hatchet with redoubled vigour, till Zama suddenly ceased working, and gazing earnestly at a small clump of cypress trees, motioned to Whackie to be silent.

"Wot you look at?" inquired Whackie. "Hush!" said Zama, "there is an Indian lurking in the underwood."

"Oh Lor!" exclaimed Whackie, in a fit of terror, as he concealed himself behind a tree. "Hide, Zama, hide! he shoot like de debil!"

The Indian finding they had observed him, advanced from the thicket. His dress was that of a chieftain of the Cherokee tribe: deer-skin leggans were laced tightly to his shape, while a shirt of beautifully-wrought stuff descended to his knees; his moccasins were trimmed with the skin of the rattlesnake; and a large blanket hung, in not inelegant folds, like a mantle at his back, over which streamed his long, glossy, coarse black hair. The negroes instantly perceived that he bore on his face the streak of war-paint; his wampum belt sustained a huge scalping-knife and a glittering tomahawk, and in his hand he bore a long Kentuckian | rifle. With bounding proud step the Indian approached the negroes.

"Slave," said he haughtily, "where is the nearest plantation?"

Nettled at the Indian's sneer, and yet frightened at the fiery sparkling of his hawk-like eyes, Whackie sullenly muttered, "Look for him; de first plantation you come to will be de nearest."

The Indian enraged at the insolent answer, and seemingly acquainted with the tenderest part of à negro's frame, suddenly brought the heavy barrel of his rifle in rude contact with the shins of Master Whackie; and that so forcibly, that the poor fellow sprang in the air, and catching hold of the affected part, shrieked with pain and anger, while he pirouetted round on the other splay-foot with the agility of an opera-dancer. "Yeh!" he roared, "yeh! wot is dat?-oh! you dam red tief! yeh! oh Lor! you cus' red waggybone, wot you mean?" The Indian grasped his tomahawk; but Zama, raising his hatchet, threw himself between his companion and the enraged Indian.

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"You came with peace on your lips," cried Zama. "Begone then; pass on your way in peace."

"It is good," said the Indian, replacing his tomahawk. "Let there be peace between us. Poor slave," he continued, stroking Whackie's woolly head, "the Red Indian will not harm you."

"Go to de debil, you dam red tief. You break my shin, an' say you no harm me!" was the angry sobbing response of Whackie, as, holding up his cucumber-shaped leg to Zama, he bitterly cried, "Look a' dat Zama, see how he swell!"

Zama expressed his sorrow, and assured Whackie that there was no danger; when the Indian, addressing Zama, inquired, "What is your master's name?" Bellgrove," answered Zama.

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The

eyes of the Indian glowed, as he hastily said "His plantation is called Bellgrove also. Is it the same Bellgrove whose plantation was destroyed some seasons ago, and whose son was carried away?"

"It is," answered Zama, as he sternly eyed the Indian; "and the Cherokee tribe will yet suffer for the foul deed."

"Have you seen the youth lately?" inquired the Cherokee, eagerly; "he left the wigwams of the Indian to return to his home; has he come? is he well?"

Notwithstanding the assumed composure of the Indian, Zama could easily perceive that there was some deep design labouring in his mind; and he accordingly answered, "The Red Indian comes with a lying tongue. We believe him not. The Cherokees are too bloody to spare the young pale face."

"Then the youth has not returned?" said the Indian.-"No," rejoined Zama.

"Ha!" shouted the Indian, "the young snake has not escaped from the forest yet; he is yet in the power of the Red Cherokee!" With a joyous shout he flourished his rifle in the air, and the wild woods rang with his horrid war-whoop.

"If it is to injure my noble master that you speed thither, you quit not this spot with life!" cried Zama, rushing on the Indian.

"Ay!" cried Whackie, starting up and flourishing his axe, we do for you. You may kill Massa Joolay, but no harm Massa heshef!"

With a loud war-cry, the Indian bounded forward; and, eluding the grasp of the negroes, with the swiftness of the stag he darted through the mazes of the dark forest, pursued by Zama and Whackie.

After a hard chase, the two negroes reached the clearings of the plantation, and in one of the fields observed Mr. Bellgrove walking with Mr. Joolay. "Thank heaven," cried Zama, "my dear master is safe."

"No be too sure ob dat," panted Whackie, who had ran till he was out of breath: "look, Zama, yonder de red rogue, see he take a bush an' aim him rifle at Massa; oh run, Zama; you, me run, come, come!"

Both rushed to the spot where the Indian lurked; and before he could take a deliberate aim at his intended victim, Zama hurled his hatchet at the savage, and struck him down with the blow. Whackie flew forward and would have completed the victory by chopping off the head of the Indian, but Zama withheld him. "Shame, shame!" he urged, "he cannot harm us now. Why butcher a helpless foe?”

“Ha, ha!” cried Whackie, struggling to get at the Indian; "he no scruple for take my scalp, an' why I no take him head? You tink if de red rascal get up he tank you for knock um down? He shoot you, and scalp you too, for be so werry kind." While Zama was endeavouring to prevent Whackie from fulfilling his fierce intent, the Indian, recovering from the sudden effect of the blow, slowly brought his rifle to bear on Mr. Bellgrove, and fired; then instantly springing to his feet, hurled his tomahawk at Zama; but Whackie rushed between his friend and the weapon, the handle of which, in its whirl, encountered the head of Whackie with irresistible force, and stretched him at full length on the ground. Zama instantly caught up Whackie's hatchet, and darted on the Indian, who, drawing his long scalping-knife, attempted to grapple with the negro; who, avoiding his grasp, struck him a violent blow on the right arm, which caused the knife to drop from his hand; and ere he could recover it, the gripe of the negro compressed the throat of the savage, and snatching up the knife, Zama plunged it into the body of his foe.

A number of negroes led by Mr. Bellgrove and the overseer reached the spot, and were amazed at beholding Zama standing with the blood-stained weapon in his hand, over the prostrate Cherokee. "Zama," cried the overseer, "what means this? who fired at your master?”

Zama turned to Mr. Bellgrove, and pointing to the Indian said, “He would have taken your life, my dear master; but you are safe!"

"Thanks, my faithful Zama," said Mr. Bellgrove. "I will reward your gallant conduct; but is this Whackie? Is the poor fellow dead?"

"Oh no, Massa," said Whackie, rising up, as he screwed his mouth with pain; "no hurt much; only noise in a ears; dat all. Oh! de dam red tief, was gib me such rap!" And he squeezed his head all round with his hands, as if to restore it to a proper shape again.

"The Indian appears to be dead," said Mr. Bellgrove."He no more dead as I," cried Whackie; "he lie 'tiff an' quiet; but neber say Indine dead till um head off."

Mr. Bellgrove looked at the Indian, and seemed violently agitated.

"Mr. Joolay," said he to the overseer, “do you remember the Indian chief who headed the attack on the night my plantation was destroyed?"

"I marked him sure enough," said Joolay. "I shot part of his cheek away; and, if I guess aright, there he lies. 'Tis Moonakah, the Cherokee chief." The Indian slowly raised his head, while the blood oozed fast from his wounds. "Who spoke of Moonakah?" he feebly asked.

"Oh! tell me of my son!" exclaimed Mr. Bellgrove, as he stooped, and, supporting the Indian, endeavoured to stanch his wounds. The Indian faintly smiled; and, speaking with difficulty, said

"The Red Indian hated the pale faces, and sought to destroy them. A slave has humbled the pride of the Cherokees. The deer shall bound through the dark forest unhurt-Moonakah's rifle is silent, his bow is unstrung."

"Your wounds will be attended to," said Mr. Bellgrove; "you will live and return to your tribe-only tell me of the fate of my son."

The Indian frowned as he feebly answered, "White man, the fawn of thy bosom hath fled from the wigwams of the Indian. He cannot escape-death stalks before the Red Cherokee-ruin is in his train-blood must flow in torrents ere the Red Cherokee seeks the shadows of the dark forest again!" He endeavoured to raise the notes of a warlike death-song; but the mild look of Mr. Bellgrove calmed the fierce spirit of the Indian, and faintly muttering, "I have pursued the young pale face, thy son, with my Braves: even now they surround him-they shall not all fall like Moonakah." With a faint sigh he sunk back into the arms of his supporter, swooning from loss of blood.

"Raise him," said Mr. Bellgrove; carry him gently to the mansion-house, and let his wounds be properly attended to."

"If

f you would take my advice," cried Mr. Joolay, "you'd throw him into the Wandoo."

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"Silence," said Mr. Bellgrove. "He brings me tidings of my long-lost boy, therefore he must be well treated. Now, my friends," continued he, addressing the negroes, we must to the woods, and search for your young master; he cannot be far off: and, mark my words-The first negro who brings me intelligence of my son shall be rewarded with Freedom!"

To his amazement the negroes shrank back and regarded him with sullen angry looks.

"Are ye men?" cried Zama; "hear ye not a father asking for his child-your own master, too; and will you not aid him? Are ye Africans? Ye base dogs! ye are only fit for the whip and the chain will no one follow me?"

:

"I go with you," cried a stalwart negro, advancing; but this volunteer was instantly collared by a coarse-looking, blubber-lipped negress, who nearly strangled him with the fury of her gripe as she yelled, "Yeh! oh! you blacka waggybone; you want a go free, an' leave you bootiful wife and you lubely piccaninny!"

"Hold you tongue, Sally," remonstrated the negro, struggling to get away from her; "no 'front me 'fore de whole plantation. See, Massa be angry." "Let him go, Muma Sally," said Mr. Bellgrove; "if any negro brings me tidings of my son, the negro shall not only obtain his own freedom, but the freedom of his wife and family also."

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No, no, Massa," cried the negress, no freeno free. Joey go free, Joey go lazy-wife an' piccaninny go starve. No free-no free!"

And the cry of "No free!" arose from the whole sable mob around.

"Pardon me, Sir," said Mr. Joolay, respectfully addressing Mr. Bellgrove. "Your excited feelings cause you to forget the negro character. In the first place, these fellows can do nothing of themselves. In the second place, effectual aid must be obtained, otherwise we are lost. With your permission, therefore, I will proceed to the city, and inform the Governor of this outbreak of the Indians, and request a few companies of Cadet Rifles to scour the woods. In the meantime, send on to Myrtlegrove, and cause your niece to alarm her plantations, and set her negroes to coöperate with your own in watching the clearings till aid arrives. Let your own negroes be well-armed, and a few bands of them be dispersed amongst the thickets to give the alarm. No fear of the Indians harming them; they know the negroes' scalps are no honour, so wont touch them."

"You are right," said Mr. Bellgrove: "proceed instantly to the city; take eight good rowers with you-you will soon reach it. Zama, proceed you to Myrtlegrove and spread the alarm. Request my niece to send out her negroes to cover my son's escape. Mr. Joolay will call at Myrtlegrove on his return, and see that effectual measures are taken. I will arm my own servants, and scour the woods myself at their head."

Zama's countenance became joyful again as he said, "I will strike through the forest, and soon reach Miss Bellgrove's plantation."

"You please, Massa," cried Whackie, "I go wid Zama?"

"If you think you are able, go. Remember, watch the woods well; bring me tidings of my son, and freedom is your reward."

Zama, with an exclamation of joy, caught Whackie in his arms, and cried, "Oh! Whackie, we will yet be free."

"Much good dat do we, eh?" said Whackie, disengaging himself from the embrace of his friend,

"Wot use for be free? Massa," continued he, addressing Mr. Bellgrove, "I no like a be free-I no want a be free."

"Why not, my good lad?" inquired Mr. Bellgrove.

Whackie's blubber lip seemed to dangle over his chin with a ludicrous expression of sorrow as he answered, "'Cause, Massa, free nigger hab to work for um wittals; an' when he fall sick, nobody care for um; free nigger no respectable; oder nigger laugh at um : no, no, Massa, you please I no want a be free."

"But, my good lad, you will still remain with me, and I will be your friend and protector," said Mr. Bellgrove.

"Hi!” cried Whackie, joyfully, “dat be oder ting; but wot if Massa Joolay flog I den?" "Knock him down," cried Zama; "the lash touches not the free!"

"Den, Massa, I want a be free," said Whackie. "I say, Zama," continued he, with a chuckling laugh, addressing his friend in an under tone, " Goley! how I like to hab de pleasure of knock down Massa Joolay!"

"Every man to his duty!" cried Mr. Bellgrove; and instantly the negroes rushed into the thickets.

CHAPTER II.

"There's a splendid day for yellow fever," said Lieutenant Galliard to Captain Charles Waldenberg, as they sauntered along the piazza in front of the Governor's house in Carlville.-"Ay, or roasting eggs i' the sand," responded the captain. "This is no day for reviewing the troops. I'd as soon go through drill in a baker's oven."

"It seems," said Galliard, "that we're to have hot work somehow. What can the Governor mean by sending for us so hurriedly?"

"I can't tell; but here he comes; he will explain it himself."

"Good morning, gentlemen," said the Governor, as he advanced to meet them. "Have you heard anything of this outbreak of the Cherokees?"

The young officers answered that they had heard nothing of it.

"As yet," said the Governor, "it is merely a rumour; nor has aught transpired to confirm it. A number of the Cherokees recently entered the State, and advanced close to the city on pretence of trading; but it seems they have now broke into open warfare, thinking that we are not prepared for them. Captain Waldenberg, I regret that that unfortunate duel between your brother the colonel and Major Maitland should deprive me of the service of two such gallant officers at such a crisis."

"I am happy to learn," answered the captain, "that Major Maitland is now fully recovered from the effects of his wound. My brother has been self-exiled too long; but I am in hourly expectation of his return."

"I rejoice to hear such news," said the Governor; "but in the meantime it is my wish that your brigade of rifles be in readiness to repel any attack which the Indians may be inclined to make."

Assuring him of their readiness to obey his wishes, the young officers received their instructions from the Governor, and were about to take leave, when Captain Waldenberg, looking down the avenue, exclaimed, “As I live, here comes old Joolay, waddling like an overgrown Muscovy duck." "I see he has got that eternal coach-whip with him," said Galliard; " I should like to know how many lazy negroes have felt it during his progress through the streets."

"His presence bodes no good," said the Governor, hastily.

"One-half of the negroes in town will swear to that," said the captain, laughing.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," said the Governor; "I will go and meet him. He seems fatigued. Don't leave till I return." So saying, he hurried down the piazza stairs, and advanced to meet the

overseer.

"What does Joolay's face look like?" inquired Galliard of his merry companion, as they watched the approach of that worthy.

"It has been sadly bungled in the making," answered the captain: "Nature, in sculpturing his nose, seems to have missed the chissel, and flattened his features with her mallet, leaving the brow and chin protruding most ludicrously."

"True," said the lieutenant, smiling; "and, by way of amending her blunder, Nature placed a fiery carbuncle where the nose should be, and which the owner nourishes most carefully with brandy and water.”

"Did you ever see such a dress?" said the captain; "his nankeen coat and trousers would contain half-a-dozen ordinary-sized men, and his sombréro might thatch a negro hut. Here he comes; keep your gravity-he's a dead shot, and I have no desire that he should try his skill at my corpus."

Sarvant, gentlemen," roared Joolay, as he waddled towards them. "Warm weather this for running in, ain't it? Tarnation hot, I guess, for agoing through the millinery evolutions!"

Ay, or flogging lazy negroes, Mr. Joolay," cried the captain. "Any of your negroes ran away, that you have galloped to town so fast?" "No, no," answered Joolay, taking off his huge sombrero, and wiping the perspiration from his face with the lining of it. "The Indgines are down on us bang slam; we want you chaps up to shoot a lot of 'em."

"We are always ready to oblige our friends, Mr. Joolay," said the captain.

"Then, gentlemen, it is time your Rifles were advancing," said the Governor. "Give orders to sound to arms. The young officers bowed and

took leave.

The sound of the bugles were heard through every quarter of the city; and the citizens hurried to ascertain the cause of so sudden a call to arms. Merchants, planters, and store-keepers were running along the streets towards the Exchange-all seemed noise and confusion. The haughty Spaniard paused in his promenade, twirled his moustaches, pulled the cigar from his mouth, and muttering "Que ruido es este?" stalked on. The

lively Frenchman jumped quickly round, and listening to the clang of the bugles, exclaimed, "Ha! preparatifs de guerre!" as he rubbed his hands with glee. Young Carolinians were seen rushing with speed through the streets, with flushed cheeks, and eagerness and joy sparkling in their eyes. The negroes looked around with distended eyes and mouth, and wondered-" Wot de debil is de row!" while the Catabaw Indian started forward-clutched his bow and arrows with firmer grasp, and drawing his blanket closer around him, sought the outskirts of the city. Americans of every state-Scotch, English, Irish, Spaniards, French, Germans, Italians, Israelites, Indians, Africans, men of every clime and every tongue, were crowded at the Exchange, all eager to know the cause of alarm-when suddenly the Carolinian Cadets, in their elegant uniforms, with their dreaded Kentuckian rifles in their hands, were seen hurrying to their place of rendezvous, and the mounted brigade galloping along at full speed: the alarm was now explained-the Cadets were called out to repel the Cherokees.

The Governor and Joolay stood in the verandah of the Governor's house, watching the gathering of the troops as they rapidly formed on the lawn; and in a short time, four hundred as noble-looking and as gallant-hearted youths as ever breathed, were drawn up in warlike array, ready and eager to advance upon the foe.

"Look, Mr. Joolay," said the Governor, as his voice trembled with emotion, and the tear glistened in his eye; "are they not a noble set of young men? Do they not look like members of one family?"

"I shouldn't like to be the father of such a family!" growled Joolay.

"Is it not a pity that such gallant youths should fall in such a warfare as this, with these savages?" continued the Governor.

"Better for them to be fighting the Red Cherokees, than fighting duels with each other," answered Joolay. "Lord bless you, Sir, they're all as merry at the idea, as if they were going to shoot squirrels. Hillo!" he cried, "what's ado now?" as two mounted officers galloped up from different directions in front of the troops, and, dismounting from their horses, advanced and embraced each other amid the cheers of the brigade.

is

"It

"Nobly done!" exclaimed the Governor. Waldenberg and Maitland. I am happy that Waldenberg is returned, and still happier at this reconciliation. Now the young sparks will follow them in the face of all danger. Come, Mr. Joolay, it is time they were getting orders."

The Governor, followed by Joolay, approached towards the corps, and the officers gathering around him, awaited his instructions.

"Colonel Waldenberg," said the Governor, "your presence is unexpected, and it affords me much pleasure to behold you again."

"It is not an hour since I arrived in the city," said the colonel. "Indeed, I had but brief time to arm and gallop hither."

"Major Maitland, I am heartily glad to see you at your post again," said the Governor, addressing