Critical Notices [pp. 582-600]

SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER.
perty, a penchant for Mr. Richard Rolfe, and a very
pretty appellation, which is Gay Foreman. But that
the course of true love may not run altogether smooth,
the young lady's father "knows a thing or two," and
will have nothing to do with our hero. The damsel
too refuses to run away with him, and so he is forced
to run away by himself. In a word, he resolves "to
leave the scene of his unhappiness and seek a home in
the western wilds." "Oh poverty! poverty!" says
Mr. Richard Rolfe, in throwing his leg over the saddle,
"how often hast thou been sketched in some humble
sphere, as fascinating in the extreme-and indeed lovely
art thou-in the abstract!"-a very neat and very comfortable little piece of positive fact, or as Ben D'Israeli
would call it-of msthetical psychology.
Our hero is next seen in Kentucky, where we find
him, on the night of the 10th of August 1809, in the
woods, on the banks of the Ohio, in company with one
Mr. Earthquake, a hunter. A cry is suddenly heard
proceeding from the river. Stealthily approaching the
banks, Mr. R. and his friend look abroad and discovernothing. Earthquake, however, (whom our hero calls
Earth for brevity) is of opinion that the Indians have
been murdering some emigrant family. While deliberating, a light is discovered on the Illinois bank of the
river, and presently a band of Indian warriors become
visible. They are dancing a war-dance, with a parcel
of bloody scalps in their hands, and (credat Judwus!)
with Mr. Rolfe's very identical little sweetheart in their
abominable clutches! "Is there a human bosom callous
to the appeals of pity?" here says Mr. Richard Rolfe,
attorney at law, placing his hand upon his heart. Mr.
Earthquake, unfortunately, says nothing, but there can
be no doubt in any reasonable mind, that had he opened
his mouth at all, "Humph! here's a pretty kettle of
fish!" would have come out of it.
It appears that Mr. Rolfe having decamped from
Petersburg, old Mr. Foreman, as a necessary consequence, becomes unfortunate in business, fails, and goes
off to Pittsburg-or perhaps goes to Pittsburg first and
then fails-at all events it is incumbent upon him to
emigrate and go down the Ohio in a flat-boat with all
his family, and so down he goes. He arrives, of course,
before any accident can possibly happen to him, exactly
opposite the spot where that ill-treated young attorney,
Mr. Rolfe, is sitting as aforesaid, with a very long face,
in the woods. But having got so far, it follows that he
can get no farther. The Indians now catch him (what business had he to reject Mr. Rolfe?) they give
him a yell-(oh, the old villain!) they kill him-(quite
right!) scalp him, and throw him overboard, him and
all his family, with the exception of the young lady.
Her they think it better to carry across to the Illinois
side of the river, and set her up on the top of a rock
just opposite our hero, with a view, no doubt, of letting
that interesting young gentlenian behold her to the
greatest possible advantage.
But the glaring improbability of this rencontre (an
incident upon which the whole narrative depends) is
perhaps the worst feature in Mr. French's novel. Mat ters now proceed in a more rational manner. The
Indians, eight in number, having finished their war dance, make off with their prey. The two hunters
(for Mr. R. has turned hunter) swim the river and
proceed to follow in pursuit, with the view of seizing
any favorable opportunity for rescuing the young lady.
There are now some points of interest. At one time,
our friends, hiding in the trunk of a tree, are near being
discovered by the red men, when these latter are turned
from the path by the rattling of a snake. This is a
maneuvre on the part of Earthquake, who carries the
rattles about his person. Something of the same kind,
however, is narrated by Cooper. At another period, one
of the eight becoming separated from the party, is waylaid and dexterously slain. Mr. Rolfe too, manages to
obtain a glimpse of the face of the captive, and is convinced of her being his inamorata. The pursuit, however, is unsuccessful, and the maiden is carried to the
camp of Tecumseh.
We have now a description of this warrior-of his
brother Elkswatawa, the Prophet-of Net-nok-wa, the
female chiefofthe Ottawas-and of Mis-kwa-bun-o-kwa
her daughter. The two latter are on a visit to Tecumseh, who refuses, for state reasons, the proffered hand of
Mis-kwa-bun-o-kwa. This princess, becoming interested in the the fate of our heroine, begs her of the Prophet
as a slave. The Prophet yields, and Miss Foreman is
carried by Mis-kwa-bun-o-kwa to visit some of the latter's friends on the Wabash, before setting off for the
more distant regions of her tribe. In the meantime, our
hunters, arriving at the camp, and having reconnoitred
it in vain for any traces of the captive, boldly enter the
camp itself, and demand the maiden at the hands of
the Prophet. His hostile intentions not being yet
sufficiently ripe, Elkswatawa receives them with kindness, and gives them fair words, but disclaims any
knowledge of Miss Foreman. Being desired, however,
to aid the search by means of his power as a Prophet,
the Indian finally points out the true route of Mis..kwabun-o-kwa's party, and our hunters taking leave, determine, as nothing better can be done, to return home
for assistance. On their way they come across the body
of the Indian, who, it will be remembered, was separated
from his party and killed by our friends. Upon his
person they find, among other articles, a handkerchief
marked with the letters R. Rolfe, in the hand-writing
of our hero. He remembers having exchanged hand kerchiefs with Miss F. on the day of his leaving Petersburg, and his doubts are now, consequently, resolved
into certainty. This incident determines Rolfe to
proceed immediately up the Wabash. Here, too, he
fails in the object of his search, and the hunters com mence their return. On the route an Indian woman is
discovered, bearing a torch, and looking for her son whom
she supposes to have been murdered by the whites.
Touched with pity, our friends aid her in the search,
and the son is found, grievously wounded, but not dead.
In her lamentations, the mother drops some few words
about a white maiden who has taken shelter in her
wigwam, and the hopes of Rolfe are rekindled. They
bear the wounded man to the hut, and the white maiden,
who is found dead, proves not to be Gay Foreman.
But the kindness of Rolfe and his companion have
excited a deep gratitude in the breasts of the Indian
mother and son-the latter is called Oloompa. They
pledge their aid in recovering the lady-and, Rolfe
having entrusted Oloompa with a letter for his mistress,
the hunters resume their journey. Reaching Indiana,
they find that, owing to the unsettled state of Indian
affairs, no assistance can be rendered them in regard
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