"This pine is ill-named," cried Sir George Templemore, "for it is the most eloquent tree eye of mine has ever looked on!"
"It is, indeed, eloquent," answered Eve; "one hears it speak even now of the fierce storms that have whistled round its tops--of the seasons that have pa.s.sed since it extricated that verdant cap from the throng of sisters that grew beneath it, and of all that has pa.s.sed on the Otsego, when this limpid lake lay, like a gem embedded in the forest. When the Conqueror first landed in England, this tree stood on the spot where it now stands! Here, then, is at last, an American antiquity!"
"A true and regulated taste, Miss Effingham," said Paul, "has pointed out to you one of the real charms of the country. Were we to think less of the artificial, and more of our natural excellencies, we should render ourselves less liable to criticism."
Eve was never inattentive when Paul spoke; and her colour heightened, as he paid this compliment to her taste, but still her soft blue eye was riveted on the pine.
"Silent it may be, in one respect, but it is, indeed, all eloquence in another," she resumed, with a fervour that was not lessened by Paul"s remark. "That crest of verdure, which resembles a plume of feathers, speaks of a thousand things to the imagination."
"I have never known a person of any poetry, who came under this tree," said John Effingham, "that did not fall into this very train of thought. I once brought a man celebrated for his genius here, and, after gazing for a minute or two at the high, green tuft that tops the tree, he exclaimed, "that ma.s.s of green waved there in the fierce light when Columbus first ventured into the unknown sea." It is, indeed, eloquent; for it tells the same glowing tale to all who approach it--a tale fraught with feeling and recollections."
"And yet its silence is, after all, its eloquence," added Paul; "and the name is not so misplaced as one might at first think."
"It probably obtained its name from some fancied contrast to the garrulous rocks that lie up yonder, half concealed by the forest. If you will ply the oars, gentlemen, we will now hold a little communion with the spirit of the Leather-stocking."
The young men complied; and in about five minutes, the skiff was off in the lake, at the distance of fifty rods from the sh.o.r.e, where the whole mountainside came at one glance into the view. Here they lay on their oars, and John Effingham called out to the rocks a "good morning," in a clear distinct voice. The mocking sounds were thrown back again, with a closeness of resemblance that actually startled the novice. Then followed other calls and other repet.i.tions of the echoes, which did not lose the minutest intonation of the voice.
"This actually surpa.s.ses the celebrated echoes of the Rhine," cried the delighted Eve; "for, though those do give the strains of the bugle so clearly, I do not think they answer to the voice with so much fidelity."
"You are very right, Eve," replied her kinsman, "for I can recall no place where so perfect and accurate an echo is to be heard as at these speaking rocks. By increasing our distance to half a mile, and using a bugle, as I well know, from actual experiment, we should get back entire pa.s.sages of an air. The interval between the sound and the echo, too, would be distinct, and would give time for an undivided attention. Whatever may be said of the "pine," these rocks are most aptly named; and if the spirit of Leather-stocking has any concern with the matter, he is a mocking spirit."
John Effingham now looked at his watch, and then he explained to the party a pleasure he had in store for them. On a sort of small, public promenade, that lay at the point where the river flowed out of the lake, stood a rude sh.e.l.l of a building that was called the "gun- house." Here, a speaking picture of the entire security of the country, from foes within as well as from foes without, were kept two or three pieces of field artillery, with doors so open that any one might enter the building, and even use the guns at will, although they properly belonged to the organized corps of the state.
One of these guns had been sent a short distance down the valley; and John Effingham informed his companions that they might look momentarily for its reports to arouse the echoes of the mountains. He was still speaking when the gun was fired, its muzzle being turned eastward. The sound first reached the side of the Vision, abreast of the village, whence the reverberations reissued, and rolled along the range, from cave to cave, and cliff to cliff, and wood to wood, until they were lost, like distant thunder, two or three leagues to the northward. The experiment was thrice repeated, and always with the same magnificent effect, the western hills actually echoing the echoes of the eastern mountains, like the dying strains of some falling music.
"Such a locality would be a treasure in the vicinity of a melo- dramatic theatre," said Paul, laughing, "for certainly, no artificial thunder I have ever heard has equalled this. This sheet of water might even receive a gondola."
"And yet, I fear one accustomed to the boundless horizon of the ocean, might in time weary of it," answered John Effingham, significantly.
Paul made no answer; and the party rowed away in silence.
"Yonder is the spot where we have so long been accustomed to resort for Pic-Nics," said Eve, pointing out a lovely place, that was beautifully shaded by old oaks, and on which stood a rude house that was much dilapidated, and indeed injured, by the hands of man. John Effingham smiled, as his cousin showed the place to her companions, promising them an early and a nearer view of its beauties.
"By the way, Miss Effingham," he said, "I suppose you flatter yourself with being the heiress of that desirable retreat?"
"It is very natural that, at some day, though I trust a very distant one, I should succeed to that which belongs to my dear father."
"Both natural and legal, my fair cousin; but you are yet to learn that there is a power that threatens to rise up and dispute your claim."
"What power--human power, at least--can dispute the lawful claim of an owner to his property? That Point has been ours ever since civilized man has dwelt among these hills; who will presume to rob us of it?"
"You will be much surprised to discover that there is such a power, and that there is actually a disposition to exercise it. The public-- the all-powerful omnipotent, overruling, law-making, law-breaking public--has a pa.s.sing caprice to possess itself of your beloved Point; and Ned Effingham must show unusual energy, or it will get it?"
"Are you serious, cousin Jack?"
"As serious as the magnitude of the subject can render a responsible being, as Mr. Dodge would say."
Eve said no more, but she looked vexed, and remained almost silent until they landed, when she hastened to seek her father, with a view to communicate what she had heard. Mr. Effingham listened to his daughter, as he always did, with tender interest; and when she had done, he kissed her glowing cheek, bidding her not to believe that which she seemed so seriously to dread, possible.
"But, cousin John would not trifle with me on such a subject, father," Eve continued; "he knows how much I prize all those little heir-looms that are connected with the affections."
"We can inquire further into the affair, my child, if it be your desire; ring for Pierre, if you please."
Pierre answered, and a message was sent to Mr. Bragg, requiring his presence in the library.
Aristabulus appeared, by no means in the best humour, for he disliked having been omitted in the late excursion on the lake, fancying that he had a community-right to share in all his neighbour"s amus.e.m.e.nts, though he had sufficient self-command to conceal his feelings.
"I wish to know, sir," Mr. Effingham commenced, without introduction, "whether there can be any mistake concerning the ownership of the Fishing Point on the west side of the lake."
"Certainly not, sir; it belongs to the public."
Mr. Effingham"s cheek glowed, and he looked astonished: but he remained calm.
"The public! Do you gravely affirm, Mr. Bragg, that the public pretends to claim that Point?"
"Claim, Mr. Effingham! as long as I have resided in this county, I have never heard its right disputed."
"Your residence in this county, sir, is not of very ancient date, and nothing is easier than that _you_ may be mistaken. I confess some curiosity to know in what manner the public has acquired its t.i.tle to the spot. You are a lawyer, Mr. Bragg, and may give an intelligible account of it."
"Why, sir, your father gave it to them in his lifetime. Every body, in all this region, will tell you as much as this."
"Do you suppose, Mr. Bragg, there is any body in all this region who will swear to the fact? Proof, you well know, is very requisite even to obtain justice."
"I much question, sir, if there be any body in all this region that will not swear to the fact. It is the common tradition of the whole country; and, to be frank with you, sir, there is a little displeasure, because Mr. John Effingham has talked of giving private entertainments on the Point."
"This, then, only shows how idly and inconsiderately the traditions of the country take their rise. But, as I wish to understand all the points of the case, do me the favour to walk into the village, and inquire of those whom you think the best informed in the matter, what they know of the Point, in order that I may regulate my course accordingly. Be particular, if you please, on the subject of t.i.tle, as one would not wish to move in the dark."
Aristabulus quitted the house immediately, and Eve, perceiving that things were in the right train, left her father alone to meditate on what had just pa.s.sed. Mr. Effingham walked up and down his library for some time, much disturbed, for the spot in question was identified with all his early feelings and recollections; and if there were a foot of land on earth, to which he was more attached than to all others, next to his immediate residence, it was this.
Still, he could not conceal from himself, in despite of his opposition to John Effingham"s sarcasms, that his native country had undergone many changes since he last resided in it, and that some of these changes were quite sensibly for the worse. The spirit of misrule was abroad, and the lawless and unprincipled held bold language, when it suited their purpose to intimidate. As he ran over in his mind, however, the facts of the case, and the nature of his right, he smiled to think that any one should contest it, and sat down to his writing, almost forgetting that there had been any question at all on the unpleasant subject.
Aristabulus was absent for several hours, nor did he return until Mr.
Effingham was dressed for dinner, and alone in the library, again, having absolutely lost all recollection of the commission he had given his agent.
"It is as I told you, sir--the public insists that it owns the Point; and I feel it my duty to say, Mr. Effingham, that the public is determined to maintain its claim."
"Then, Mr. Bragg, it is proper I should tell the public that it is _not_ the owner of the Point, but that _I_ am its owner, and that I am determined to maintain _my_ claim."
"It is hard to kick against the p.r.i.c.ks, Mr. Effingham."
"It is so, sir, as the public will discover, if it persevere in invading a private right."
"Why, sir, some of those with whom I have conversed have gone so far as to desire me to tell you--I trust my motive will not be mistaken----"
"If you have any communication to make, Mr. Bragg, do it without reserve. It is proper I should know the truth exactly."
"Well, then, sir, I am the bearer of something like a defiance; the people wish you to know that they hold your right cheaply, and that they laugh at it. Not to mince matters, they defy you."
"I thank you for this frankness, Mr. Bragg, and increases my respect for your character. Affairs are now at such a pa.s.s, that it is necessary to act. If you will amuse yourself with a book for a moment, I shall have further occasion for your kindness."