She
fed them with corn, and they supplied her and themselves with meat, by
hunting squirrels, raccoons, and rabbits. To the rest of mankind they were aliens or enemies. They never left the
desert but in company with their mistress, and, when she entered a
farm-house, waited her return at a distance. They would suffer none to
approach them, but attacked no one who did not imprudently crave their
acquaintance, or who kept at a respectful distance from their wigwam. That sacred asylum they would not suffer to be violated, and no stranger
could enter it but at the imminent hazard of his life, unless
accompanied and protected by their dame. The chief employment of this woman, when at home, besides plucking the
weeds from among her corn, bruising the grain between two stones, and
setting her snares for rabbits and opossums, was to talk. Though in
solitude, her tongue was never at rest but when she was asleep; but her
conversation was merely addressed to her dogs. Her voice was sharp and
shrill, and her gesticulations were vehement and grotesque. A hearer
would naturally imagine that she was scolding; but, in truth, she was
merely giving them directions. Having no other object of contemplation
or subject of discourse, she always found, in their postures and looks,
occasion for praise, or blame, or command. The readiness with which they
understood, and the docility with which they obeyed, her movements and
words, were truly wonderful. If a stranger chanced to wander near her hut and overhear her jargon,
incessant as it was, and shrill, he might speculate in vain on the
reason of these sounds. If he waited in expectation of hearing some
reply, he waited in vain. The strain, always voluble and sharp, was
never intermitted for a moment, and would continue for hours at a time. She seldom left the hut but to visit the neighbouring inhabitants and
demand from them food and clothing, or whatever her necessities
required. These were exacted as her due; to have her wants supplied was
her prerogative, and to withhold what she claimed was rebellion. She
conceived that by remaining behind her countrymen she succeeded to the
government and retained the possession of all this region. The English
were aliens and sojourners, who occupied the land merely by her
connivance and permission, and whom she allowed to remain on no terms
but those of supplying her wants. Being a woman aged and harmless, her demands being limited to that of
which she really stood in need, and which her own industry could not
procure, her pretensions were a subject of mirth and good-humour, and
her injunctions obeyed with seeming deference and gravity. To me she
early became an object of curiosity and speculation. I delighted to
observe her habits and humour her prejudices. She frequently came to my
uncle's house, and I sometimes visited her: insensibly she seemed to
contract an affection for me, and regarded me with more complacency and
condescension than any other received. She always disdained to speak English, and custom had rendered her
intelligible to most in her native language, with regard to a few simple
questions. I had taken some pains to study her jargon, and could make
out to discourse with her on the few ideas which she possessed. This
circumstance, likewise, wonderfully prepossessed her in my favour. The name by which she was formerly known was Deb; but her pretensions to
royalty, the wildness of her aspect and garb, her shrivelled and
diminutive form, a constitution that seemed to defy the ravages of time
and the influence of the elements, her age, (which some did not scruple
to affirm exceeded a hundred years,) her romantic solitude and
mountainous haunts, suggested to my fancy the appellation of _Queen
Mab_. There appeared to me some rude analogy between this personage
and her whom the poets of old time have delighted to celebrate: thou
perhaps wilt discover nothing but incongruities between them; but, be
that as it may, Old Deb and Queen Mab soon came into indiscriminate and
general use. She dwelt in Norwalk upwards of twenty years. She was not forgotten by
her countrymen, and generally received from her brothers and sons an
autumnal visit; but no solicitations or entreaties could prevail on her
to return with them. Two years ago, some suspicion or disgust induced
her to forsake her ancient habitation and to seek a hew one. Happily she
found a more convenient habitation twenty miles to the westward, and in
a spot abundantly sterile and rude. This dwelling was of logs, and had been erected by a Scottish emigrant,
who, not being rich enough to purchase land, and entertaining a passion
for solitude and independence, cleared a field in the unappropriated
wilderness and subsisted on its produce. After some time he disappeared. Various conjectures were formed as to the cause of his absence. None of
them were satisfactory; but that, which obtained most credit was, that
he had been murdered by the Indians, who, about the same period, paid
their annual visit to the _Queen_. This conjecture acquired some
force by observing that the old woman shortly after took possession of
his hut, his implements of tillage, and his corn-field. She was not molested in her new abode, and her life passed in the same
quiet tenor as before. Her periodical rambles, her regal claims, her
guardian wolves, and her uncouth volubility, were equally remarkable;
but her circuits were new. Her distance made her visits to Solebury more
rare, and had prevented me from ever extending my pedestrian excursions
to her present abode. These recollections were now suddenly called up by the information of my
hostess. The hut where I had sought shelter and relief was, it seems,
the residence of Queen Mab. Some fortunate occurrence had called her
away during my visit. Had she and her dogs been at home, I should have
been set upon by these ferocious sentinels, and, before their dame could
have interfered, have been, together with my helpless companion, mangled
or killed. These animals never barked: I should have entered unaware of
my danger, and my fate could scarcely have been averted by my fusil. Her absence at this unseasonable hour was mysterious. It was now the
time of year when her countrymen were accustomed to renew their visit. Was there a league between her and the plunderers whom I had
encountered? But who were they by whom my footsteps were so industriously traced? Those whom I had seen at Deb's hut were strangers to me, but the wound
upon my face was known only to them. To this circumstance was now added
my place of residence and name. I supposed them impressed with the
belief that I was dead; but this mistake must have speedily been
rectified. Revisiting the spot, finding me gone, and obtaining some
intelligence of my former condition, they had instituted a search after
me. But what tidings were these? I was supposed to have been bewildered in
the mountains, and three days were said to have passed since my
disappearance.