 Section 1 of Atala by François-René des Choteau-Briand. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by William Jones, Benita Springs, Florida. Atala Section 1 Prologue. St. Lawrence formerly possessed in North America a vast empire, extending from Labrador to the Florida's, and from the shores of the Atlantic to the most distant lakes of Upper Canada. Four great rivers, deriving their sources from the same mountains, divided these immense regions. The river St. Lawrence, which is lost to the east in the Gulf of that name, the Western River, whose waters flow to the seas unknown. The river Bourbon, which runs from south to north into Hudson's Bay, and the Mississippi, whose waters fall from north to south into the Gulf of Mexico. The last name river, in its course of more than a thousand leagues, waters a delicious country, called by the inhabitants of the United States the New Eden, to which the French left the pretty appellation of Louisiana. A thousand other rivers, tributaries of the Mississippi, the Missouri, the Illinois, the Arkansas, the Wabash, the Tennessee, enrich it with their mud, and fertilize it with their waters. When all these rivers have been swollen by the deluges of winter, uprooted trees, forming large portions of forest torn down by tempests, crowd about their sources. In a short time the mud cements the torrent trees together, and they become enchained by creepers, which, taking root in every direction, bind and consolidate the debris. Carried away by the foaming waves, the rafts descend to the Mississippi, which, taking possession of them, hurries them down towards the Gulf of Mexico, throws them upon sandbanks, and so increases the number of its mouths. At intervals the swollen river raises its voice whilst passing over the resisting heaps, and spreads its overflowing waters around the colonnades of the forests and the pyramids of the Indian tombs. And so the Mississippi is the nile of these deserts. But grace is always united to splendor in the scenes of nature. While the midstream bears away towards the sea the dead trunks of pine trees and oaks, the lateral currents on either side, convey along the shores floating islands of pistias and nenufars whose yellow roses stand out like little pavilions. Green serpents blue herons, pink flamingos and baby crocodiles, embark as passengers on these rafts of flowers, and the brilliant colony unfolding to the wind its golden sails glides along slumberingly till it arrives at some retired creek in the river. The two shores of the Mississippi present the most extraordinary picture. On the western border vast savannas spread away farther than the eye can reach, and their waves of verger, as they recede, appear to rise gradually into the azure sky where they fade away. And these limitless meadows herds of three or four thousand wild buffaloes wander at random. Sometimes, clipping the waters as it swims, a bison laden with years comes to repose among the high grass on an island of the Mississippi, its forehead ornamented with two crescents and its ancient and slimy beard giving it the appearance of a god of the river, throwing an eye of satisfaction upon the grandeur of its waters and the wild abundance of its shores. Such is the scene upon the western border, but it changes on the opposite side which forms an admirable contrast with the other shore. Suspended along the course of the waters grouped upon the rocks and upon the mountains and dispersed in the valleys, trees of every form of every color and of every perfume throng and grow together, stretching up into the air two heights that worry the eye to follow. Wild vines, bignonias, coloquintitas intertwine each other at the feet of these trees, escalate their trunks and creep along to the extremity of their branches, stretching from the maple to the tulip tree, from the tulip tree to the hollyhock, and thus forming thousands of grottos, arches, and porticoes. Often in their wanderings from tree to tree, these creepers cross the arm of a river over which they throw a bridge of flowers. Out of the midst of these masses, the magnolia raising its motionless cone surmounted by large white buds commands all the forest where it has no other rival than the palm tree, which gently waves close by its fans of verdure. A multitude of animals, placed in these retreats by the hand of the Creator, spread about life and enchantment from the extremities of the avenues may be seen bears intoxicated with the grape, staggering upon the branches of the elm trees, caribou bathed in the lake, black squirrels play among the thick foliage, mocking birds and Virginia pigeons, not bigger than sparrows, fly down upon the turf, reddened with strawberries. Green parrots with yellow heads, purple wetpeckers, cardinals red as fire, clamber to the very tops of the cypress trees. Green birds sparkle upon the jessamine of the Florida's and bird-catching serpents hiss while suspended to the domes of the woods where they swing about like the creepers themselves. If all is silence and repose in the savannas on the other side of the river, all here on the contrary is sound and motion, pecans against the trunks of the oaks, frictions of animals walking along as they nibble or crush between their teeth the stones of fruits, the roaring of the waves, plenty of cries, dull bellowings and mild cooings fill these deserts with a tender yet wild harmony. But when a breeze happens to animate these solitudes, to swing these floating bodies, to confound the masses of white, blue, green and pink, to mix all the colors and to combine all the murmurs, their issue such sounds from the depths of the forests and such things pass before the eyes that I should in vain endeavor to describe them to those who have never visited these primitive fields of nature. After the discovery of the Mississippi by Father Marquette and the unfortunate LaSalle, the first Frenchmen who established themselves at Biloxi and at New Orleans entered into an alliance with the Natchez, an Indian nation whose power was redoubtable in these countries. Quarles and jealousies subsequently ensanguin the land of hospitality. Amongst these savages there was an old man named Chakdas, the harmonious voice, who on account of his age wisdom and knowledge of the affairs of life was the patriarch and the beloved of the deserts. Like many other men he had acquired virtue by calamity. Not only were the forests of the New World filled with his misfortunes, but he bore the tale of his calamities even to the shores of France. Kept in the galleys at Marseille by a cruel act of injustice, restored to liberty and presented to Louis XIV, he had conversed with the great men of that age and had been present at the fates at Versailles, at the tragedies of Racine and at the funeral orations of Boussé. In one word the savage had contemplated society at the moment of its greatest splendor. For several years Chakdas, restored to the bosom of his country, had been in the enjoyment of repose. Nevertheless Providence granted him even this favor dearly. The old man had become blind. A young girl used to accompany him on the hills of the Mississippi, just as Antigone formally guided the steps of Oedipus over the Chitharan, or as Malvina conducted Ocean over the rocks of Morvin. In spite of the numerous acts of injustice to which Chakdas had been subjected by the French, he was very partial to them. He ever remembered Vénélan, whose guest he had been and desired an opportunity for rendering service to the fellow countrymen of that virtuous man. A favorable occasion presented itself. In 1725 a Frenchman named Rene, driven thither by his passions and his misfortunes, arrived at Louisiana. He ascended the Mississippi as far as the territory of the Natchez and asked to be accepted as a warrior of that nation. Chakdas, having questioned him and finding him not to be shaken in his resolution, adopted him as a son and united him to an Indian girl called Saluta. Shortly after this marriage the savages prepared to go beaver-hunting. And on account of the respect with which the Indian tribes regarded the old man Chakdas, although blind, was appointed by the council of the wise men to command the expedition. Rairs and fasts commenced, the jugglers interpreted the dreams, the manatews were consulted, sacrifices of tobacco were offered up, fillets of elk tongues were burnt, the assistants examining whether they sputtered in the flames in order to ascertain the will of the genii, and at length they started after having partaken of the sacred dog. Rene was of the party. With the assistance of the counter-currents, the pierogues re-ascended the Mississippi and reached the bed of the Ohio. One moonlit night while all the Natchez were asleep at the bottom of their pierogues and the Indian fleet under a crowd of beast-skin sails was flying before a mild breeze, Rene, who had remained alone with Chakdas, asked him to tell the story of his adventures. The old man consented to satisfy his curiosity and began in these words. The destiny which has brought us together, my dear son, is a singular one. I see in you the civilized man becomes savage, you see in me the wild man whom the great spirit, I know not from what motive, desire to civilize. Having each entered upon the career of life from opposite directions, you came to repose yourself at my place, and I have seated myself in yours, so that we must have acquired a totally different view of things. Which of the twain has gained or lost the more by this change of position? That is known to the genii, the least learned of whom possesses more wisdom than all mankind put together. At the next flower-moon, the month of May, there will be seven times ten snows, and three snows more since my mother brought me into the world on the banks of the Mississippi. The Spaniards had recently established themselves in the Bay of Pensacola, but no European yet inhabited Louisiana. I had scarcely witnessed seventeen falls of the leaves when I marched with my father, the warrior Utalici, against the Miscogulges, a powerful nation in the Florida's. We united our forces with those of the Spaniards, our allies, and the combat took place upon one of the branches of the Mobile. Arrascui, the God of War, and the Manitous were not favorable to us. Our enemies triumphed. My father lost his life. I was twice wounded whilst defending him. Oh, why did I not then go down into the land of souls? I should have avoided the misfortunes which were awaiting me on earth. The spirits ordained otherwise. I was dragged along by the defeated crowd to St. Augustine. In that city, but then recently built by the Spaniards, I ran the risk of being carried away to the mines of Mexico, when an old Castilian named Lopez, touched by my youth and simplicity, offered me an asylum, and presented me to his sister, with whom he was living spousalous. Both of them took to me in the tenderest manner. I was brought up with much care and had all sorts of masters given to me. And after having passed thirty moons at St. Augustine, I was afflicted with a disgust for the life of cities. I fell away visibly. Sometimes I remained motionless for hours while contemplating the summits of distant forests, and other times I might be seen seated on the banks of a river casing sadly upon the flowing waters. I figured to myself the woods through which these waters had passed, and my soul was thus entirely given up to solitude. No longer able to resist the desire of returning to the desert, I one morning presented myself to Lopez, dressed in my savage attire, holding in one hand my bow and arrows, and in the other my European costume, which I returned to my generous protector, at whose feet I fell, shedding a torrent of tears, giving myself odious names, and accusing myself of ingratitude. After all, O my father, said I to him, you see it yourself. I must die if I do not resume the life of the Indian. Lopez, struck with astonishment, endeavored to change my determination. He spoke of the dangers I was about to encounter by exposing myself to the possibility of falling into the hands of the muskogulja, but perceiving at last I was resolved to risk everything. He melted into tears, and pressing me in his arms with affection, go, said he. of nature take back this independence of man of which Lopez did not wish to deprive you. If I were myself younger, I would accompany you to the desert, where I also have sweet remembrances, and restore you to your mother's arms. When you shall be once again in your forests, think sometimes of the old Spaniard who gave you hospitality, and remember, in order that you may be disposed to love your fellow creatures, that your first experience of the human heart was altogether in its favor. Lopez finished by a prayer to the God of the Christian, whose religion I refused to embrace, and we separated with much sadness. It was not long before I was punished for my ingratitude. My inexperience caused me to lose myself in the wood, and I was taken by a party of the muskoguljas and seminals as Lopez had predicted. My dress and the feathers ornamenting my head caused me to be recognized as a natchez. I was enchained, but slightly, on account of my youth. Simagon, the leader of the troop, desired to learn my name. I replied, I am Chaltchaktas, son of Utalisi, son of Meskou, who have taken more than a hundred scouts from the heroes of the muskoguljas. Simagon then said, Chaktas, son of Utalisi, son of Meskou, rejoice! Thou shalt be burnt at the big village. I answered, that is well, and began to chant the song of death. Although a prisoner, I could not refrain during the first few days from admiring my enemies. The muskoguljas, and especially his ally the Seminole, is full of gaiety, love and contentment. His walk is light, his mean is calm and open, he speaks much and with volubility. His language is harmonious and flowing. Even age does not deprive the satiums of this joyous simplicity. Like the old birds of our forests, they mingle their ancient songs with the fresh notes of their young posterity. The women who accompanied the troop displayed for my youth a tender pity and an amiable curiosity. They questioned me about my mother concerning the earliest days of my life, and they wanted to know whether my cradle of moss had been hung upon the flowering branches of the maple trees, and whether the breezes had rocked me near the nests of the little birds. Then came a thousand other questions as to the state of my heart. They asked me if I had seen a white fawn in my dreams, and whether the trees of the secret valley had advised me to love. I replied with simplicity to the mothers, to the daughters, and to the spouses of the men, saying, You are the graces of the day, and the night loves you like dew. Man issues from your loins to hang upon your breast and upon your lips. You know the magic words that lull every pain. So I was told by her, who brought me into the world, and who will never see me again. She told me also that maidens are mysterious flowers met with in solitary places. These praises gave much pleasure to the women, who overwhelmed me with all sorts of presents, and brought me cocoa nut cream, maple tree sugar, Saganite, a cake made with Indian corn, bearhams, beaver skins, shells with which you ornamented myself, and moss for my couch. They sang and laughed with me, and then took to shedding tears, at the thought that I was to be burnt. One night, when the muskled gulias had pitched their camp on the outskirt of a forest, I was seated near the war-fire with the guard who had charge of me. All of a sudden I heard the sound of a dress upon the grass, and a female, half-veiled, came and sat down by my side. Tears were rolling from underneath her eyelids, and I saw by the light of the fire that a small golden crucifix shone upon her bosom. She was altogether beautiful, and I remarked upon her countenance an expression of virtue and passion of irresistible attraction. To that she added the most tender graces and extreme sensitiveness united to a profound melancholy, breathed in her looks, and her smile was heavenly. I took her to be the version of the last loves, the version sent to the prisoner of war to enchant his tomb. After this impression I said to her, stammeringly, and with any motion that did not, however, proceed from any feeling of fear of the funeral pile, O version, you are worthy of a first love, and you are not made for the last. The palpitations of a heart that will soon cease to beat would ill-respond to the movements of your own. How can death and life lie mingled together? You would cause me to regret too much the approach of the day. Let another be happier than myself, and may long embraces unite the tender plant to the oak. The youthful maiden then said to me, I am not the version of the last loves. Are you a Christian? I replied that I had not betrayed the genie of my cottage. After these words the Indian made an involuntary movement and said, I pity you for being merely a wicked idolater. My mother made me a Christian. My name is Atala, and I am the daughter of Sima Gan of the Golden Bracelets, the chief of the warriors of this troop. We are going to Apala Chukla, where you will be burnt. When uttered these words, Atala rose and took her departure. Here Chaktas was compelled to interrupt his story. A crowd of souvenirs rushed into his soul. His closed eyes inundated his furrowed cheeks with tears. Just as two springs, hidden in the profound depths of the earth, reveal themselves by the waters they sin filtering between the rocks. O my son, said he after a long pause, you perceive that Chaktas is not very wise notwithstanding his reputation for wisdom. Alas, my dear child, although men can no longer see, they can still weep. Several days passed. Every evening the old man's daughter came to converse with me. Sleep had fled from my eyes, and Atala was in my heart like the remembrance of the resting place of my father's. On the seventeenth day of our march, about the time when the ephemerin rises from the waters, we entered upon the grand savanna of Alachua. The plain is surrounded with hills, which, receding behind one another, are covered as they appear to touch the clouds with ranges of forests, of palm trees, citrone trees, magnolias, and oaks. The chief uttered the cry of arrival, and the troop encamped at the foot of a hillside. I was left at some distance on the border of one of those natural wells so famous in the Florida's attached to the trunk of a tree, and guarded by a warrior who watched me with impatience. I had passed but some moments in this place when Atala appeared beneath the liquid ambers of the fountain. Hunter, said she to the Muscovuljan hero, if you would like to chase the stag, I will guard the prisoner. The warrior jumped for joy at this offer of the chief's daughter, and at once hurried from the top of the hill and directed his steps toward the plain. What a strange contradiction is the heart of man. I, who had so much desire to speak of things mysterious to her whom I already loved like the sun, suddenly became troubled and confused, and felt as though I should have preferred to be thrown amongst the crocodiles in the fountain to find in myself alone with Atala. The daughter of the desert was as much affected as her prisoner. We observed a profound silence, for the genie of love had deprived us of speech. After an interval, Atala, making an effort, spoke thus, Warrior, you are held but slightly. You can't easily escape. At these words courage returned to my tongue, and I replied, but slightly held, o woman. I could not compete my phrase. Atala hesitated some moments, and then said, Fly! At the same time liberating me from the trunk of the tree, I seized the cord and returned it to the hand of the foreign maiden, forcing her beautiful fingers to close themselves upon my chain. Take it back, take it back, I cried. You are mad, said Atala, in a voice full of emotion. Wretched man, do you not know that you will be burnt? What do you mean? Do you reflect that I am the daughter of a redoubtable sage? There was a time, I replied, with tears, when I also was carried about in a beaver-skin on the shoulders of a mother. My father also had a fine cottage, and his fawns drank of the waters of a thousand torrents. But now I wander without a country. When I shall have ceased to exist, no friend will place a little grass over my body to keep the insects away from it. The corpse of an unhappy stranger interests no one. These words touched Atala. Her tears fell into the fountain. Ah, I continued with vivacity, if your heart spoke like mine, is not the desert free? Do not the forests contain folds in which we could conceal ourselves? And in order to be happy, are there so many things necessary for the children of the huts? O maiden, more beautiful than the first dream of a spouse, O my well-beloved, dare to follow me. Such was my language. Atala replied to me in a tender tone of voice. My young friend, you have learnt the expressions of the white men. It is easy to deceive an Indian girl. What? I exclaimed. You call me your young friend? Ah, if a poor slave—well, she said, leaning upon me, a poor slave. I continued with ardour. Let a kiss assure him of your faith. Atala listened to my prayers, as a fawn appears to cling to the flowers of the rosy creepers which it seizes with its delicate tongue on the mountain steeps, so I remained attached to the lips of my well-beloved. Alas, my dear son, pain is in close attendance upon pleasure. Who could have thought that at the moment in which Atala gave me the first token of her love should be precisely that in which she would destroy all my hopes? White hares of old Choctus, what was your astonishment when the doctor of the Sajam pronounced these words? Beautiful prisoner, I have foolishly given way to your desire. But whither will this passion lead us? My religion separates me from you for ever. Oh, my mother, what has thou done? Atala became suddenly silent, and kept back I know not what fatal secret about to escape from her lips. Her words plunged me into despair. Well, then, I exclaimed, I will be as cruel as you. I will not escape. You shall see me in the flame of fire. You shall hear the groans of my flesh, and you will be full of joy. Atala took my hands between both of hers. Poor young idolater, she cried, I really grieve for you. You wish me then to weep my whole heart out? What a pity I cannot fly with you. Unhappy was the bosom of my mother, O Atala, why dost thou not throw thyself to the crocodiles in the fountain? That very moment the crocodiles at the approach of the setting of the sun began to make their cries heard. Atala said to me, let us leave this place. I led away the daughter of Sima Gan to the foot of the hills, which formed gulfs of verdure by advancing their promontories into the savannas. Everything in the desert was splendidly imposing. The stork was screaming upon its nest, the woods resounded with the monotonous song of the quails, the whistling of the pericats, the lowing of the bisons, and the naing of the siminolian cavalry. Our promenade was almost a dumb one. I walked by the side of Atala, who was holding the end of the cord, which I had forced her to take back again. Sometimes we shed tears, and sometimes we endeavored to smile. I looked, now directed toward the sky and then toward the earth, an ear listening to the song of the birds, a gesture towards the setting sun, a hand tenderly pressed, a bosom by turns palpitating and tranquil. The names of Chakta and Atala softly repeated at intervals. O first promenade of love, thy souvenir must be extremely powerful, since after so many years of misfortune it can still stir the heart of old Chakta's. How incomprehensible our mortals went agitated by the passions. I had just abandoned the generous heart of Lopez, I had just exposed myself to every danger for the sake of liberty, and in one instant the look of a woman had changed my tastes, my resolutions, my thoughts. Forgetful of my country, my mother, my cabin, and the frightful death awaiting me, I had become indifferent to everything that was not Atala. Lacking strength to raise myself to the reason of a man, I had suddenly fallen into a sort of childishness, and far from being able to do anything to extricate myself from threatening misfortune, I almost required someone to provide me with the means of sleep and nourishment. It was therefore in vain that Atala, after a ramble in the savannah, threw herself at my knees and again begged me to leave her. I declared that I would return alone to the camp, if she refused to reattach me to the trunk of my tree. She was compelled to comply with my request, hoping to convince me at another time. CHAPTER 1 THE HUNTERS The next day, which decided the fate of my life, we halted in a valley not far from Koskowija, the capital of the Seminoles. These Indians, together with the mystical gulges, formed the confederation of the creeks. The daughter of the land of palm trees came to find me in the middle of the night. She conducted me to a great pine forest, and renewed her entreaties to induce me to escape. Without replying to her, I took her hand in mind and forced a thirsting fond to wander with me into the forest. The night was delitious, the genius of the air appeared to be shaking the blue canopy in balm with the odor of the pines, and we breathed a slight perfume of ember emitted by the crocodiles asleep beneath the tamarin trees by the riverside. The moon was shining in the midst of a spotless azure, and the pearl-gray light fell upon the undefined summit of the forests. Not a sound was to be heard, except I know not what distant harmony that reigned in the depths of the woods. It seemed as though the soul of solitude was sighing throughout the entire extent of the desert. Through the trees we perceived a young man, who, holding the torch in his hand, looked like the genius of spring visiting the forests to reanimate nature. He was a lover on his way to learn his fate at the cabin of his mistress. Should the maiden blow out the torch, she accepts the offered vows, but if she veiled herself without extinguishing it, she refuses the spouse. The warrior, gliding through the shades, chanted these words in a low tone of voice. I will outrun the steps of the daylight upon the mountaintops to seek my lonely dove in the midst of the oaks of the forest. I have fastened around her throat a necklace of shells, with three red beads for my love, three violet ones for my fears, three blue ones for my hopes. Mila has the eyes of an ermine, and hair as light as a field of rice. Her mouth is a pink shell lined with pearls. Her two breasts are like two little spotless kids born the same day of one mother. May Mila extinguish this torch. May her mouth cast a voluptuous shade over it. I will fertilize her bosom. The hope of the country shall hang from her fruitful breast, and I will smoke my collument of peace by the cradle of my son. Ah, let me outrun the steps of the daylight upon the mountaintops to seek my lonely dove amidst the oaks of the forest. Thus sang the young man whose accents agitated me to the bottom of my soul and calls Adala to chant countenance. Our united hands trembled in each other, but we were diverted from this scene by another scene, not less dangerous for us. We passed near a child's tomb, which served as a boundary between two nations. It had been placed on the border of the road, according to custom, in order that the young wives when going to the fountain might draw into their bosom the soul of the innocent creature and restore it to the country. At this moment several newly married spouses were there, and the desires of the sweets of maternity were endeavoring by opening their lips to receive the soul of the little child which they fancied they saw wandering amongst the flowers. The veritable mother came forwards and deposited a bunch of corn and white lilies upon the tomb. She sprinkled the earth with her milk, sat down upon the damp turf, and spoke thus to her child in an impassioned voice. Oh, why do I weep for thee in thy earthly cradle, O my newborn? When the little bird has grown it must seek its own nutriment and find many bitter seeds in the desert. At least thou hast been unconscious of tears, at least thy heart has not been exposed to the devouring breath of men. The bud that dries up in its envelope passes away with all its perfume like thou, O my son, with all thy innocence. Happy are those who die in the cradle. They have only known the kisses and smiles of a mother. Already subdued by our own hearts we were overwhelmed by the images of love and maternity which seemed to pursue us in these enchanted solitudes. I carried Atala away in my arms to the extremity of the forest where I told her things that I should in vain endeavour to repeat today with my lips. The southern wind, my dear son, loses its heat on passing over the mountains of ice. The souvenirs of love in the heart of an old man are like the fires of day reflected by the peaceful orb of the moon when the sun has set and silence spreads itself over the huts of the savages. What could save Atala? What could prevent her from succumbing to nature? Nothing doubtless but a miracle, and that miracle was accomplished. The daughter of Simeaghan had recourse to the God of the Christians. She threw herself upon the ground and uttered a fervent prayer addressed to her mother and to the Queen of Virgins. It was from this moment over and there that I entertained a wonderful idea of that religion which in the forest in the midst of all the privations of life imparts a thousand boons to the unfortunate of that religion which opposing its power to the torrent of the passions suffices alone to conquer them when everything else is in their favor. The secrecy of the woods, the absence of men and the fidelity of the shades, O how divine to me appeared that simple savage, the ignorant Atala who on her knees before an old fallen pine tree as at the foot of an altar was offering up a prayer to her God in favor of an idolatrous lover. Her eyes raised toward the star of the night, her cheeks brilliant with tears of religion and of love were of immortal beauty. Several times it appeared to me as though she were about to take her flight to heaven several times. I fancied I saw come down upon the rays of the moon and heard amongst the trees those genii whom the gods of the Christians sends to the Hermes of the rocks when he is about to call them back to himself. I was afflicted by all this for I feared that Atala had but little time to remain on earth. Nevertheless she shed such abundant tears she appeared so unhappy that I was perhaps upon the point of consenting to take my departure when the cry of death resounded through the forest. Our armed men rushed upon me, we had been discovered, the war chief had given orders for our pursuit. Atala who resembled a queen in the pride of her demeanor disdained to speak to these foyers. She glanced nobly at them and went forthwith to Simagon. She could obtain no concession. My guards were doubled, my chains increased and my lover was kept away from me. Five nights passed and then we perceived Apalachukla situated on the banks of the river Chattahoochee. I was immediately crowned with flowers, my face was painted blue and red, beads were fastened to my nose and to my ears, a cheeky kooey was placed in my hand. Thus prepared for the sacrifice I entered Apalachukla amidst the re-aided shouts of the crowd. My fate was sealed when all of a sudden the sound of a conch was heard and the meekle or chief of the nation ordered an assembly. You know who my son, the torments to which savages subject their prisoners of war? Christian missionaries at the risk of their lives and with an indefatigable charity had succeeded in inducing several nations to substitute a comparatively mild slavery to the horrors of the funeral pile. The Miskul Ghulshas had not yet adopted this custom, but a numerous party amongst them had declared themselves in favor of it. It was to decide upon this important matter that the meekle had convoked the sages or wise men. I was conducted to the place of deliberation. The pavilion of the council was situated upon an isolated mound not far from Apalachukla Three circles of columns constituted the elegant architecture of this rotunda. The columns were of polished and carved cypress wood increasing in height and in thickness and diminishing in number as they approached the center which was indicated by a single pillar. From the summit of this pillar suspended strips of bark which passing over the tops of the other columns covered the pavilion in the guise of an open fan. The council assembled fifty old men in beaver cloaks were ranged upon the steps facing the door of the pavilion. The Grand Chief was seated in their midst holding in his hand the Calumet of Peace half colored for war. On the right of the old men were placed fifty women dressed in robes of swan feathers. The war chiefs with a tomahawk in the hand, a bunch of feathers on the head and their arms and chest dyed with blood occupied the left. At the foot of the central column the fire of the council was burning. The first jungler surrounded by eight guardians of the temple dressed in long vestments and wearing a stuffed owl upon their heads poured some balm of kopal upon the flames and offered a sacrifice to the sun. The triple row of old men, matrons and warriors, the priests, the clouds of incense and the sacrifice imparted to this council an aspect altogether imposing. I was standing chained in the midst of the assembly. When the sacrifice was finished Miko spoke and explained with simplicity the affair that I brought the council together. He threw a blue necklace upon the ground as evidence of what he had just said. Then a sacrum of the tribe of the eagle rose and spoke thus. My father, the Miko, sacrums, matrons and warriors of the four tribes of the eagle, the beaver, the serpent and the tortoise, let us change nothing in the manners of our forefathers. Let us burn the prisoner and let us not allow our courage to be weakened. It is a custom of the white men that is now proposed to you it cannot be other than pernicious. Give a red collar which contains my words I have spoken. And he threw a red collar into the midst of the assembly. I matron then rose and said, my father eagle, you have the cleverness of a fox and the prudent slowness of a tortoise. I will polish the chain of friendship with you and we will plant together the tree of peace. But let us change the customs of our forefathers when they are of a terrible character. Let us have slaves to cultivate our fields and let us no longer hear the cries of the prisoners who trouble the bosoms of the mothers. I have spoken. As the waves of the ocean are broken up by a storm, as in autumn the dried leaves are carried away in a whirlwind. As the reeds of the Mississippi bend and rise again during a sudden inundation, as a great herd of deer bellow in the depths of a forest, so was the council agitated and murmuring. Sage, warriors and matrons spoke by turns, or altogether interests clashed, opinions were divided and the council was about to be dissolved. But at length the ancient custom prevailed and I was condemned to the pile. A circumstance caused my punishment to be delayed. The Feast of the Dead, or the Festival of Souls, was approaching and it is the custom not to put any captive to death during the days consecrated to that ceremony. I was handed over to a strict guard and doubtless the sages had sent away the daughter of Sima Gan as I saw her no longer. Meanwhile the tribes for more than three hundred leagues around came in crowds to celebrate the Festival of Souls. A long hut had been constructed upon an isolated situation. On the day indicated each cabin exhumed the remains of its fathers from their private tombs and the skeletons were hung upon the walls of the common room of the ancestors in order and by families. The winds, a tempest had burst forth, the forest and the cataracts roared from without while the old men of the different nations were engaged in concluding treaties of peace between the tribes over the bones of their fathers. Several amusements were indulged in, running ball and a game with small bones. Two maidens tried to snatch from each other a willow twig. Their hands fluttered about the twig, which each in her turn held above her head. Their beautiful naked feet in her twine, their mouths met, their sweet breaths became confounded. They stooped and their hairs were mixed together. Then they looked at their mothers and blushed in the midst of applause. Blushing is a marked characteristic with young savages. The jungler invoked Michabu, the genius of the waters, and related the wars of the great hare against Machimanatu, the god of evil. He spoke of the first man and of Atha-insik, the first woman, being hurled from heaven for having lost their innocence. Of the earth having been reddened with a brother's blood, of the immolation of Tahu-sitaru, by the impious Jusekka, of the revenge commended by the voice of the great spirit of Masu, the only one saved in his bark vessel, and of the crow sent out to discover the land. He spoke moreover of the beautiful Indaya, recalled from the land of souls by the sweet song of her spouse. After these games and hymns, preparations were made for giving the ancestors an eternal sepulcher. Upon the borders of the river Chadauchi there was a wild fig tree which the worship of the people had consecrated. The Indian maids were in the habit of washing their bark dresses at this place and exposing them to the breath of the desert upon the branches of the ancient tree. It was there that an immense tomb had been dug. While leaving the funeral chamber the hymn of death was sung. Each family carried some sacred remains. On arriving at the tomb the relics were lowered down into it and spread out in layers separated by the skins of bears and beavers. The mound of the tomb was then raised and the tree of tears and of sleep planted on it. Let us pity men, my dear son. Those very indents whose customs are so touching, those very women who had displayed such a tender interest in my behalf, now called out loudly for my execution, and entire tribes delayed their departure in order to have the pleasure of seeing a young man undergo the most horrible sufferings. Any valley to the north at some distance from the Grand Village was a wood of cypress and deals called the Wood of Blood. It was reached by the ruins of one of those monuments of which the origin is ignored and which were the work of a people now unknown. I was led thither in triumph. Preparations were being made for my death. The pole of Arrascui was planted, pine, elm, and cypress trees fell beneath the axe. The funeral pile was rising and spectators were constructing amphitheaters with branches and trunks of trees. Each one was occupied in inventing a torture. Some proposed to tear the skin off my head. Others to burn my eyes out with red hot axes. I began to sing the song of death. I do not fear torture. I am brave, O Miscu golges. I defy you. I despise you more than women. My father Utolisi, son of Miscu, drink out of the skulls of your most famous warriors. You will not draw a sigh from my breast. Provoked by my song, a warrior pierced my arm with an arrow. I merely said, brother, I thank thee. In spite of the activity of the executioners, the preparations for my execution could not be completed before the setting of the sun. A jungler was consulted, and he forbade the genii of the shades to be troubled, so that my death was postponed till the following day. But in their impatience to enjoy this spectacle, and in order to be ready sooner on the break of day, the indents did not quit the wood of blood. They lighted large fires and began a series of festivities and dances. Meanwhile, I had been laid down upon my back. Chords from my neck, from my feet, and from my arms were attached to stakes fixed in the ground. Warriors were seated upon these cords, and I could not make the slightest movement without their knowledge. The night advanced. The songs and dances gradually ceased. The fires emitted but a ruddy light, in front of which I could see the shadows of some of the savages pass. At last they all fell asleep. But as the noise of men became pacified, that of the desert seemed to increase, and to the tumult of voices succeeded the howlings of the winds in the forest. It was the hour when a young indian recently became a mother awakes with a start in the middle of the night, fancying she has heard the cry of her firstborn babe, desirous of her sweet nutriment. With my eyes gazing up to heaven, where the crescent moon was wandering in the clouds, I was reflecting upon my destiny. Atala appeared to me to be a monster of ingratitude, thus to abandon me at the moment of punishment, I who had given myself up to the flames rather than leave her. And yet I felt that I still loved her, that I should die with joy for Atala. In extreme pleasures there is a sting that excites one, as though to counsel us to profit by the rapidly passing moment. In great grief, on the contrary, there is something heavy that induces drowsiness. The eyes fatigued with the tears naturally seek to close, and the goodness of providence may be thus remarked even in our misfortunes. I gave way, in spite of myself, to that heavy sleep which sometimes overcomes the wretched. I dreamt that my chains were being taken off. I thought I felt the satisfaction experienced when, after having been tightly pressed, a helping hand relieves us of our irons. This sensation was so vivid that it caused me to raise my eyelids, by the light of the moon, a ray of which was escaping between two clouds. I saw a tall, white figure leaning over me and silently occupied in loosening my bonds. I was about to utter a cry when a hand, which I instantly recognized, closed on my mouth. A single cord remained, but it appeared impossible to cut it without touching a warrior who covered it entirely with his body. Atala placed her hand upon it. The warrior, half-awakened, restored himself and sat up. Atala remained motionless and looked at him. The Indian thought he was looking at the spirit of the ruins, and he lay down again, closing his eyes and invoking his manatee. The bond was broken. I arose and followed my deliverer, who tendered me to the end of a bow of which she held the other extremity. But with what dangers were we surrounded? At times we were on the point of stumbling over the sleeping savages. Then a guard questioned us, and Atala replied in an assumed voice. The children were crying, and dogs were barking. Scarcely had we got clear of the fatal enclosure, when terrible howlings resounded through the forest. The camp was aroused, a thousand fires were lighted, and savages were running about in all directions with torches. We hurried away with precipitation. When day broke upon the Apalaches, we were already far away. Great was my felicity on finding myself again in solitude with Atala. With Atala my deliverer, with Atala, who was giving herself to me forever. Dogs failed my tongue, I fell on my knees and said to the daughter of Sima Gan, Men are but little, but when they geniee visit them they are nothing at all. You are a genius. You have visited me, and I cannot speak before you. Atala offered me her hand with a smile. I am obliged to follow you, she said, since you will not fly without me. During the night I seduced the jungler with presence. I intoxicated your executioners with essence of fire, Brandy, and I risked my life for you because you had given yours for me. Yes, young idolater, she added with an accent that alarmed me. The sacrifice will be reciprocal. Atala gave me the weapons she had had the precaution to bring, and then she dressed my wound. Whilst wiping it with a papaya leaf she wetted it with her tears. It is a balm, I said to her, that you are dropping on my arm. I am rather afraid that it may be a poison, she replied. She tore one of the coverings from her bosom, with which she made a first bandage that she fastened with a crest of her hair. Intoxication, which lasts a long time upon savages, and is for them a species of malady, prevented them from pursuing us during the first few days. If they sought for us afterward it was probably in a westerly direction, as they must have thought we should make for the Mississippi. But we had taken our flight toward the fixed star, north, guiding ourselves by the moss on the trunks of the trees. We were not long in perceiving that we had gained but little by my deliverance. The desert now unrolled before us is immeasurable solitudes. Without experiencing forest life, having lost our way and walking on at hazard, what was to become of us? Often while gazing upon Attala I remembered the ancient story of Agar that Lopez had given me to read and which happened to be in the desert of Bershiba a long time ago, when men lived to three times the age of the oak. Attala made me a cloak out of some ash bark, and she also embroidered me a pair of muskrat skin moccasins with porcupine's hair. In my turn I did all in my power to ornament her attire. First of all I placed upon her head the crown of those blue mouths that crowded beneath our feet in the abandoned Indian cemeteries. Then I made her a necklace of red azalea berries, and after all I smiled at the contemplation of her wonderful beauty. When we encountered a river we crossed it either on a raft or by swimming. Attala placed one of her hands upon my shoulders, and thus like a pair of migratory swans we traversed the solitary waves. During the great heat of the day we often sought shelter beneath the moss of the cedars. Nearly all of the floridant trees, especially the cedar and the oak, were covered with a white moss which descends from the branches down to the very ground. At night time, by moonlight, should you happen to see, in the open savanna and isolated home dressed in such drapery, you would imagine it to be a phantom dragging after it a number of long veils. The scene is not less picturesque by the day when a crowd of butterflies, brilliant insects, colibris, green perocats, and blue jackdaws entangle themselves amongst the moss, and thus produce the effect of a piece of white woollen tapestry embroidered by some clever European workmen with beautiful birds and sparkling insects. It was in the shade of such smiling quarters prepared by the great spirit that we stopped to repose ourselves. When the winds came down from heaven to rock the great cedar, when the aerial castles built upon its branches undulate with the burns and the trevorous living beneath its shelter, when thousands of sighs pass through the corridors of the waving edifice, there is nothing amongst the wonders of the ancient world to be compared with this monument of the desert. In Section 3 The Hunters Part 2 Section 4 of Atala by François-René des Choteaux-Briands Section 4. Chapter 1 The Hunters Part 3 Every evening we lighted a large fire and built a traveling hut of bark raised upon four stakes. When I had killed a wild turkey, a pigeon, or wood pheasants, we attached it to the end of a pole before a pile of burning oak and left the care of turning the hunters prey to the caprices of the wind. We used to eat a kind of moss called rock tripe, sweetened bark, and may apples that tasted of the peach and of the raspberry. The black walnut tree, the maple tree, and the sumac furnished our table with wine. Sometimes I went and fetched from amongst the reeds a plant whose flower, in the form of an elongated cup, contained a glass of the purest dew. We blessed heaven for having placed this limpid spring upon the stalk of a flower in the midst of the corrupted marshes just as it has placed hope at the bottom of a heart's ulcerated by grief, just also as it has caused virtue well up from the bosom of the miseries of life. I soon discovered alas that I had deceived myself as to the apparent calm of my beloved Attala. The further we advanced, the sadder she became. She frequently shuddered without a cause and turned her head aside hurriedly. I sometimes caught her regarding me with a passionate look, which she at once cast toward this guy with a profound melancholy. What alarmed me above all was a secret thought concealed in the bottom of her soul but which I read in her eyes, constantly drawing me towards her and then pushing me away, reanimating my hopes and then destroying them when I thought I had made some progress in her heart. I found myself still at the same point. How many times she said to me, oh, my young sweetheart, I love you like the shade of the woods at midday. You are as beautiful as the desert with all its flowers and all its breezes. If I inclined toward you, I tremble. When my hand falls upon yours, it seems to me as though I were about to die. The other day the wind blew your hair upon my face as you were reposing yourself upon my bosom and I fenced, I felt the light touch of the invisible spirits. Yes, I have seen the young kids of the mountains of Okona. I have listened to the language of men ripe with years, but the mildness of goats and the wisdom of old men are less agreeable and less powerful than your words. Ah, my poor Choctus, I shall never be your spouse. The constant struggle between Atala's love and religion, her tender freedom and the chastity of her conduct, the pride of her character and her profound sensitiveness, the elevation of her soul in great things, her susceptibility about trifles, rendered her, in my opinion, an incomprehensible being. Atala could not hold a weak empire over a man full of passion, she was full of power, she was either be adored or hated. After fifteen nights of hurried march we entered upon the chain of the Allegheny Mountains and reached one of the branches of the Tennessee, a river that falls into the Ohio. Aided by the advice of Atala I built a boat which I coated with plum tree gum after having re-sawn the bark with the roots of the fir. I subsequently embarked therein with Atala and we abandoned ourselves to the current of the river. The Indian village of Stikoy, with its pyramidal tombs and ruined huts, appeared on our left at the turn of a promontory. On the right we left the valley of Kio, terminated by the perspective of the cabins of Jore, which seemed to be suspended from the forehead of the mountain of the same name. The river, which carried us along, flowed between high cliffs at the extremity of which we perceived the setting sun. The profound solitudes were not disturbed by the presence of men. We only saw one Indian hunter, who, leaning motionless upon his bow on the peak of a rock, looked like a statue raised upon the mountain to the genius of those deserts. Atala and myself added our silence to the silence of this scene. All of a sudden the daughter of exile filled the air by thus singing in a voice replete with melancholy emotion of her absent country. Happy are they who have not seen the smoke of foreign festivals and who have never been seated elsewhere than in the rejoicings of their fathers. If the blue Jack-Tall of the Mississippi were to say to the non-periol of the Florida's, why dost thou complain so sadly, hast thou not hear beautiful waters and lovely shades and all sorts of pastures as in thine own for us? Yes, would reply the fugitive non-periol, but my nest is in the jesemmon who will bring it to me, and the son of my savannah where is it? Happy are they who have not seen the smoke of foreign festivals and who have never been seated elsewhere than at the rejoicings of their father. After hours of painful wayfair the traveller sits down in sadness. He sees around him the roofs of men's habitations, but has no place wherein to repose his head. The traveller knocks at a cabin, places his bow behind the door and asks for hospitality. The master makes a gesture of the hand. The traveller takes back his bow and returns to the desert. Happy are they who have not seen the smoke of foreign festivals and who have never been seated elsewhere than at the rejoicings of their fathers. Wonder stories told around the hearth tender effusions of the heart, long habits of loving so necessary to life, you have filled the days of those who have not quitted their natal place. Their tombs are in the land of their birth with the setting sun, the tears of their friends and the charms of religion. Happy are they who have not seen the smoke of foreign festivals and who have never been seated elsewhere than at the rejoicings of their fathers. Thus saying atala, nothing interrupted the course of her lamentations except the almost imperceptible sound of our boat upon the waves. In two or three places only were they taken up by a weak echo which repeated them to a second faintly and more faintly still. It seemed as though the souls of two lovers formerly unfortunate like ourselves and attracted by the touching melody were enjoying the pleasure of sign forth the dying sounds of its music in the mountain. Nevertheless, the solitude, the constant presence of the beloved object, even our misfortunes raised our affection from one instant to another. Atala prayed continuously to her mother whose irritated shade she seemed as though wishing to appease. She sometimes asked me if I did not hear a plaintive voice and see flames issuing out of the earth. As for myself, exhausted with fatigue but still burning with desire and thinking that I was perhaps irreverably lost in the midst of those forests I was hundred times upon the point of drawing my spouse into my arms and a hundred times I did urge Atala to allow me to build a hut upon the riverside so that we might bury ourselves therein together. But she always resisted my propositions. Remember, my young friend, she would say, that a warrior owes himself to his country. What is a woman compared to the duties you have to fulfill? Take courage, son of Utalisi. Do not murmur against your destiny. The heart of man is like a river sponge that imbibes pure water during the calm weather and is swollen with muddy liquid when the sky has troubled the waves. Has the sponge the right to say that there would never be any storms that the sun would never be scorching? O Horene, if you fear the trials of the heart be upon your guard against solitude. The great passions are solitary and to transport them to the desert is to restore them to their triumph. Overcome with cares and fears exposed to the danger of falling into the hens to be swallowed up by waters stung by serpents devoured by beasts finding the poorest nourishment with difficulty and not knowing whether to direct our steps it seemed impossible for our misfortunes to be greater. When an accident brought them to a climax it was the 27th sun since our departure from the Capons the moon of fire had commenced her course and everything announced as storm. Towards the hour when the Indian madrons hang up the plow handle to the branches of the savantry when the periquets retire into the howls of the Cyprus the sky began to be overcast. The voices of the solitude died away the desert became silent and the forests were reposing in the mists of a universal calm. Shortly after the rolling of a distant thunder prolonged through the woods as old as the world reissued from them with sublime sounds fearful of being submerged we hastened to reach the bank of the river and withdrew into a forest. The ground in this place was marshy we advanced with difficulty under a vault of smelaks amidst vines, indigo plants, bean trees and creeping ivy that entangled our feet like nets the spongy soil trembled around us and at each instant we were on the point of sinking into the quagmires insects without number and enormous bats blinding us bell serpents were hissing in every direction and wolves, bears, caracajus and young tigers came to hide themselves in these retreats made them resound with their warrings meanwhile the darkness increased lowering clouds were entering beneath the leafy covering of the woods suddenly the sky was rent and the lightning traced a rapid zigzag of fire a violent wind from the east rode clouds upon clouds the forest bent the sky opened time after time and from between the interstices other skies and ardent scenes might be perceived what a frightful what a magnificent spectacle the lightning set fire to the forest the conflagration extended like a headdress of flame columns of sparks and of smoke besieged the clouds which were vomiting their flashes into the vast burning mass then the great spirit covered the mountains with heavy darkness and from the midst of this chaos there rose a confused moaning formed by the rushing of the winds the crackling of trees the howling of wild beasts the buzzing of the inflamed vegetation and the repeated fall of thunderbolts hissing as they died out in the waters the great spirit knows that at this moment I saw and thought of nothing but Atala I managed to guard her against the torrents of rain by placing her beneath the inclining trunk of a birch tree under which I sat holding my well-beloved upon my knees and warming her naked feet between my hands and thus I found myself happier than the young spouse who feels her future offspring quiver in her bosom for the first time we were listening to the sounds of the tempest when all of a sudden I felt one of Atala's tears fall upon my breast storm of the heart I cried to myself is it a drop of your rain then embracing her I loved I said Atala you're concealing something from me open your heart to a male beauty it does one so much good when a friend looks into one's soul tell me this secret of grief which you persist in hiding from me ah, I see you're weeping for your country she immediately retorted child of men why should I weep for my country since my father came not from the land of palms what? I replied with profound astonishment your father was not from the land of palms what was he then who brought you upon this earth? reply Atala answered with these words before my mother brought to the warrior Sima Gan as a marriage portion thirty mayors twenty buffaloes a hundred measures of nut oil fifty beaver skins and a quantity of other riches she had known a man of white flesh now the mother of my mother threw water in her face and forced her to marry the magnanimous Sima Gan who was likened to a king and honored by the people as a genius but my mother said to her new spouse my bosom has conceived kill me Sima Gan replied to her may the great spirit preserve me from such an action I will not mutilate you I will neither cut off your nose nor your ears because you have been sincere and have not betrayed my couch the fruit of your bosom shall be my fruit and I will not visit you till after the departure of the bird of the rice fields when the thirteenth moon shall have shown about that time I issued from my mother's bosom and I began to grow proud as a Spaniard and as a savage my mother made me a Christian so that her god and the god of my father might also be my god afterwards love sickness fell upon her and she went down into the little pit furnished with skins from which no one ever comes out such was Atala's story and who was your father then poor orphan I said to her how was he called by men upon earth and what name did he bear among the genii I never washed my father's feet said Atala I only know that he lived with his sister at St. Augustine and that he ever remained faithful to my mother Philip was his name amongst the angels and men called him Lopez as his words I uttered a cry which re echoed throughout the solitude the somies of my transports mingled with those of the storm pressing Atala to my heart I exclaimed with sobs oh my sister oh daughter of Lopez daughter of my benefactor Atala alarmed sought to ascertain the cause of my agitation but when she learned that Lopez was the generous host who had adopted me at St. Augustine and whom I had quitted in order to be free she was herself stricken with joy and confusion this fraternal friendship which came upon us and joined its love to our love was too much for our hearts already I had intoxicated myself with her breath already I had drunk all the magic of love upon her lips with my eyes raised toward heaven amidst the flash of the lightning I held my spouse in my arms in the presence of the eternal splendid pomp worthy of our misfortunes and of the grandeur of our loves superb forest that shook your creeping plants and your leafy domes as though they were to be the curtains and the canopy of our couch overflowing river roaring mountains frightful and sublime nature were you then but a combination prepared to deceive us and could you not for one moment conceal a man's felicity amidst your mysterious horrors suddenly a vivid flash followed by a clap of thunder the sickness of the shades filled the forest with sulfur and light and rent a tree close by us we fled oh surprise and the silence was followed we heard the sound of a bell both speechless we listened to the sound so strange in the desert at the same instant a dog barked in the distance it approached redoubled its cries came up to us and howled with joy at our feet an old hermit carrying a small lantern was following the animal through the darkness of the forest heaven be praised he cried as soon as he perceived us I have been looking for you a long time our dog smelt you as soon as the storm commenced and has guided me hither poor children how young you are and how you must have suffered come I have brought a bear skin it shall be for this young woman and there is some wine in our gourd let God be praised in all his works his mercy is great and his goodness is infinite Atala threw herself at the feet of the monk chief of prayer said she to him I am a Christian heaven has sent you to save me my daughter said the hermit raising her up we usually ring the mission bell during the night and during tempest to call strangers and in imitation of the example of our brethren of the Alps and of the Liban we have taught our dog to discover lost travelers I scarcely understood the hermit this charity appeared to me so much above man that I thought I was dreaming by the light of the little lantern the monk was holding in his hand I saw that his beard and hair were saturated with water his feet, his hands and his face were bleeding from their encounters with the brambles old man I at length cried what sort of heart have you that you did not fear being struck by the lightning fair retorted the father with a certain order fair when men are in danger and I can be useful to them I should in that case be an unworthy servant of Jesus Christ but do you know ain't erupted that I am not a Christian young man replied the hermit that I ask you your religion Jesus Christ did not say my blood shall wash this one or that one he died for the Jew and for the Gentile and he only considered all the races of men as brothers in misfortune what am I now doing for you is but little little and you would find elsewhere plenty of other help but the glory of it should not fall upon the priests what are we poor hermits if not the course instruments of a celestial work and what soldier would be cowardly enough to retreat when his chief with the cross in his hand and his forehead covered with thorns marches before him to the assistance of suffering humanity these words went to my heart tears of admiration and tenderness fell from my eyes my dear children said the missionary I govern in these forests a little flock of your wild brethren my grotto is not far from here in the mountains come and warm yourselves under my roof you will not find the conveniences of life there but you shall have shelter and you should thank the divine goodness even for that for there are many men who are without it End of section 4 The Hunters Part 3 Section 5 of Atala by François-René de Choteau-Prégnant This Librebox recording is in the public domain Recording by William Jones Benita Springs, Florida Section 5 Chapter 2 The Laborers There are some righteous people whose conscience is so tranquil that one cannot approach them without participating in the peace emitted so to say by their heart and by their language As the hermit went on speaking I felt the passions calm down in my bosom and even the storm of heaven appeared to recede at his voice The clouds were soon sufficiently dispersed to permit us to quit our retreat We issued from the forest and commenced climbing a high mountain The dog walked by our side carrying the extinguished lantern at the end of a stick I held Atala by the hand and we followed the missionary He frequently turned round to look at us and seemed to pity our youth and our misfortunes A book was hanging from his neck and he leaned upon a white staff His figure was tall His face pale and thin and his countenance simple and sincere His features showed that he had seen bad days and the deep wrinkles in his forehead were the noble scars of passions overcome by virtue and by the love of God and of man When he spoke to us standing in motionless and veered, his eyes modestly cast downwards the affectionate tone of his voice Everything about him was calm and sublime Whoever, like myself, has seen Father Albrey with his brevery and staff on his lonely way in the desert preserves a veritable idea of the Christian traveler upon earth After half an hour's dangerous march through the paths of the mountain we arrived at the missionary's grotto We entered it over an accumulation of wet ivy and wild plants washed down from the rocks by the rain There was nothing in the place beyond a mat of papaya leaves a gourd for drawing up water a few wooden vessels a spade, a harmless serpent and upon a block of stone that served as a table a crucifix and the Book of the Christians The man of ancient days was not long in lighting a fire with some dried leaves He then crushed some indian corn between two stones and having made a cake with it placed it beneath the ashes to bake When the cake had come to a fine golden color he served it to us hot with nut cream in a maple bowl The evening having restored calm the servant of the great spirit proposed that we should go and sit in the entrance to the grotto which commended an immense view The remains of the storm had been carried in disorder toward the east The fires of the conflagration caused in the forest by the lightning were still shining in the distance At the foot of the mountain an entire pine wood had been thrown down into the mud and the river was charged pale mel with molten clay trunks of trees and the bodies of dead animals and of dead fishes floating upon the still agitated surface of the waters It was in the midst of this scene that Atala related our history to the old genius of the mountain His heart appeared to be touched and tears fell upon his beard My child, he said to Atala you must offer your sufferings to God In His glory you have already done so many things He will give you rest Look at those smoking forests those receding torrents those scattered clouds Do you imagine that He who can calm such a tempest cannot appease the troubles of the heart of man If you have no better retreat my dear daughter I offer you a place amongst the flock of happiness of calling to Jesus Christ I will instruct Choctus and I will give him to you as a husband when he shall have proved himself worthy to be your spouse At these words I fell at the hermit's knees shedding tears of joy but Atala became as pale as death The old man raised me with benignity and I then perceived that both his hands were mutilated Atala at once comprehended his misfortunes The barbarians, she exclaimed My daughter replied the hermit with a pleasant smile What is that in comparison with the sufferings of my divine master If the Indian idolaters have tortured me they are poor, blind creatures whom God will enlighten some day I love them all the more for the injury they have done me I could not remain in my country to which I had gone back and where an illustrious queen did me the honor to look upon these poor marks of my apostolate And what more glorious reward could I receive for my labors than that of obtaining from the head of our religion the permission to celebrate the divine sacrifice with these mutilated hands It only remained for me after such an honor to try and render myself worthy of it So I returned to the New World to pass the rest of my life in the service of my God I have dwelt in these solitudes nearly thirty years and it will be twenty-two tomorrow since I took position of this rock When I came to the place I encountered but a few wandering families whose manners were ferocious and whose life was miserable I have induced them to listen to the word of peace and their manners have become gradually softened They now live together at the foot of this mountain whilst teaching them the way of the salvation I endeavored to instruct them in the primary arts of life but without carrying them too far and constantly keeping the honest people within the bounds of that simplicity which constitutes happiness Fearing to trouble them by my presence I retired to this grotto where they come to consult me It is here that far from man I admire God in the grandeur of this solitude and prepare myself for the death which the length of my years passes to me as approaching Upon finishing this discourse the hermit fell upon his knees and we imitated his example He began in a loud voice a prayer to which Atala responded Some dull flashes of lightning still opened the sky in the east and upon the western clouds three suns seemed to be shining at the same time We re-entered the grotto where the hermit stretched out a bed of cypress moss for Atala Profound language was depicted in the eyes and movements of the maiden She looked at Father Aubrey as though she wished to reveal a secret to him but something appeared to deter her from doing so either my presence or a sort of shame or perhaps the uselessness of the avowal I heard her get up in the middle of the night She went to look for the hermit but as he had given up his couch to Atala he had gone to contemplate the beauty of the heavens and to pray to God on the top of the mountain He told me the next day that such was his custom even during winter as he loved to see the forests wave their stripped summits the clouds fly through the air and to hear the winds and the torrents roar in the solitude My sister was therefore obliged to return to her couch where she immediately fell asleep Alas, full of hope I thought Atala's weakness was nothing more than a passing sign of weariness The next morning I was awakened by the songs of the cardinals and the mockingbirds nestled in the acaches and laurels that surrounded the grotto I went forth and gathered a magnolia rose and placed it wet with the tears of the morning upon the head of my sleeping Atala I hoped according to the religion of my country that the soul of some child dead at the breast might have descended upon this flower in a dewdrop and that a happy dream might convey it to the bosom of my future spouse I afterwards sought my host I found him his gown turned up into his two pockets and a chaplet in his hand waiting for me seated upon the trunk of a pine tree that had fallen from old age He proposed that we should go together to the mission while Atala was still reposing I accepted his offer and we immediately started on our way On descending the mountain I perceived some oaks upon which the genii seemed to have drawn foreign characters The hermit told me that he had traced them himself that they were some verses of an ancient poet called Homer and a few sentences of another poet more ancient still named Solomon There was a sort of mysterious harmony between the wisdom of former times the verses eaten into by mos the hermit who had engraved them and the aged oaks which had served him for books His name, his age and the date of his mission were also marked upon a reed of the savannah at the foot of those trees I was surprised at the fragility of the latter monument It will last longer than I replied the father and it will always be of more value than the little good I have done From thence we arrived at the entrance to a valley where I saw a wonderful work It was a natural bridge similar to that in Virginia of which you have perhaps heard Men, my son especially those of your country often imitate nature and their copies are always insignificant It is not the same with nature when she appears to imitate the labors of men by in reality offering them models Then it is that she throws bridges from the summit of one mountain to the summit of another suspends roads in the air spreads rivers for canals carves out hills for columns and for basins excavates seas We passed beneath the sole arch of this bridge and found ourselves in front of another wonder the cemetery of the Indians of the mission or the groves of death Father Aubrey had permitted his neophytes to bury their dead in their manner and to continue its original name to their place of sepulcher He had merely sanctified the place with a cross Father Aubrey had done like the Jesuits in China who allowed the Chinese to enter their relations in their gardens according to an ancient custom The soil was divided like fields set out for harvest into as many lots as there were families Each lot formed a wood of itself which varied according to the taste of those who had planted it A stream meander noiselessly through the groves it went by the name of the River of Peace This smiling refuge of souls was closed on the east by the bridge beneath which we had passed Two hills bounded it on the north and on the south and it was open only towards the west where stood a large forest of fir trees The trunks of these trees spotted with green and growing without branches up to the very summits resembled tall columns and formed the peristyle of this temple of death We were marked a religious sound similar to the half suppressed murmurs of an organ beneath the roof of a church But when we had penetrated into the interior of the sanctuary we could hear nothing beyond the hymns of the birds celebrating an eternal fate to the memory of the dead On emerging from the wood we perceived the village of the mission situated on the side of a lake in the midst of a savanna planted with flowers It was reached by an avenue of magnolias Folks which bordered one of those ancient roads met with toward the mountains that separate Kentucky from the Florida's As soon as the Indians saw their pastor in the plain they abandoned their labors and hastened to meet him Some of them kissed his gown others assisted him to walk The mothers raised their little children in their arms to show them the man of Jesus Christ who had shed tears Father Aubrey inquired as he went along of what was going on in the village He gave counsel to one and a mild reprimand to another He spoke of harvests to be gathered of children to be instructed of troubles to be consoled and he alluded to God in every topic he touched upon Thus escorted we arrived at the foot of the large cross placed by the roadside It was here that the servant of God was in the habit of celebrating the mysteries of his religion My dear Neophytes said he turned himself toward the crowd A brother and a sister have come up to you and as an additional happiness I see the Providence spared your harvests yesterday Behold two great reasons for thankfulness Let us therefore offer up the holy sacrifice and may each of you bring to it deep attention a lively faith, infinite gratitude and a humble heart The holy priest forthwith put on a white tunic of mulberry bark The sacred cups were withdrawn from a tabernacle at the foot of the cross The altar was set out on a portion of the rock Water was procured from the neighboring torrent and a bunch of wild grapes furnished the wine for the sacrifice We all went down upon our knees in the high grass and the mystery began Break of day, appearing from behind the mountains inflamed the eastern sky Everything in the solitude was golden or roseate The sun announced by so much splendor at length issued from an abyss of light and its first ray fell upon the concentrated host which the priest was at that very moment raising in the air After the sacrifice during which nothing was wanting to meet but the daughter of Lopez we went to the village The most touching mixture of social and natural life reigned there By the side of a cypress wood of the ancient desert was a nascent vegetation Years of corn rolled like gold about the trunk of a fallen oak and summer sheaves replaced the tree of three centuries On all sides, forests given up to the flames were sending up their smoke into the air and the plow was being pushed slowly through the remains of their roots Surveyors with long chains went to measure the ground Arbitrators marked out the first properties The bird gave up its nest The din of the wild beast was converted into a cabin The gorges were heard to roar and the blows of the axe caused the echoes to resound for the last time as they expired with the trees which had served them for a refuge I wandered with delight in the midst of these scenes rendered still more enchanting by the image of Atala and by the dreams of Felicity with which I was feeding my heart I admired the triumph of Christianity over savage life I saw the end in becoming civilized by the voice of religion I assisted at the primitive union of man and the earth man by this great contract abandoning to the earth the inheritance of his labors and the earth undertaking in return to bear faithfully the harvests, the sons, and the ashes of man During this time a child was presented to the missionary who baptized it among the flowering jessemen on the border of a spring whilst a coffin in the midst of these joys and labors was being carried to the groves of death Two spouses received the nuptial benediction beneath an oak and we afterwards went to install them in a corner of the desert The pastor walked in front of us blessing here and there a rock, a tree, or a fountain as of old, according to the book of the Christians God blessed the untilled land when he gave it to Adam for an inheritance This procession, which with the flocks was following its venerable chief from rock to rock represented to my affected heart the migrations of the first families when Shim with his children advanced into an unknown world following the son as his guide I desired to know from the hermit how he governed his flock With great patience he replied to me I have laid down no law for them I have merely taught them to love one another to pray to God and to hope for a better life All the laws and the world are comprised therein Toward the middle of the village you may perceive a cabin some point larger than the rest it serves as a chapel during the rainy season My children assembled there morning and evening to praise the Lord and when I am absent an old man offers up the prayers for old age like maternity is a sort of priesthood The people afterwards go to work in the fields and although the properties are divided in order that each may learn something of social economy the harvest are deposited in the same storehouse out of a spirit of brotherly charity Four old men are charged with the equal distribution of the produce of the general laborers and to all that our religious ceremonies plenty of hymns the cross where I celebrate the mysteries the entry beneath which I preach in the fine weather our tombs near our cornfields our rivers into which I plunge the little children and the St. John's of this new Bethany and you will have a complete idea of this kingdom of Jesus Christ The language of the hermit delighted me and I felt the superiority of this stable and busy life over the wondering and idle existence of the savage Ah, Renee, I do not repine against Providence yet I confess I never think of that evangelical society without experiencing bitter regret how a hut with Atala in that neighborhood would have rendered my life happy there all my wanderings would have ceased there with a spouse ignored by men and concealing my happiness in the depth of the forest my days would have flown by like those rivers which have not even a name in the desert instead of the peace I was then bold enough to promise myself I missed what troubles have my years been cast the constant plaything of fortune wrecked upon every shore long in exile from my country and on my return thither finding only a ruined cabin and friends in the tomb such was to be the destiny of Chaktas End of Atala, Section 5, The Laborers