PO-NO-KAH AN INDIAN TALE OF LONG AGO By Mary Mapes Dodge 1903 PO-NO-KAH. AN INDIAN STORY OF LONG AGO. I. THE HEDDEN FAMILY. We who live in comfortable country homes, secure from every invader, find it difficult to conceive the trials that beset the hardy pioneerswho settled our Western country during the last century. In those days, and for many a year afterward, hostile Indians swarmed inevery direction, wherever the white man had made a clearing, or starteda home for himself in the wilderness. Sometimes the pioneer would beunmolested, but oftener his days were full of anxiety and danger. Indeed, history tells of many a time when the settler, after leavinghome in the morning in search of game for his happy household wouldreturn at night to find his family murdered or carried away and hiscabin a mass of smoking ruins. Only in the comparatively crowdedsettlements, where strength was in numbers, could the white inhabitantshope for security--though bought at the price of constant vigilance andprecaution. In one of these settlements, where a few neatly whitewashed cabins, androugher log huts, clustered on the banks of a bend in the Ohio River, dwelt a man named Hedden, with his wife and three children. His farmstretched further into the wilderness than his neighbors', for his hadbeen one of the first cabins built there, and his axe, ringing merrilythrough the long days, had hewn down an opening in the forest, afterwardfamous in that locality as "Neighbor Hedden's Clearing. " Here he hadplanted and gathered his crops year after year, and in spite ofannoyances from the Indians, who robbed his fields, and from bears, whosometimes visited his farm stock, his family had lived in security solong that, as the settlement grew, his wife sang at her work, and hislittle ones shouted at their play as merrily as though New York orBoston were within a stone's throw. To be sure, the children were biddennever to stray far from home, especially at nightfall; and the crack ofrifles ringing now and then through the forest paled their cheeks foran instant, as the thought of some shaggy bear, furious in his deathagony, crossed their minds. Sometimes, too, the children would whisper together of the fate of poorAnnie Green, who, a few years before had been found killed in theforest; or their mother would tell them with pale lips of the night whentheir father and neighbor Freeman encountered two painted Indians nearthe cabin. The tomahawk of the Indian who tried to kill their father wasstill hanging upon the cabin wall. But all this had happened twelve years earlier--before Bessie, theoldest girl, was born--and seemed to the children's minds like a bit ofancient history--almost as far off as the exploits of Hannibal or JuliusCaesar appear to us. So, as I have said, the girls and boys of thesettlement shouted joyously at their play, or ran in merry groups to therough log hut, called "The School-House, " little dreaming of the caresand anxieties of their elders. Bessie Hedden was a merry-hearted creature, and so pretty that, had shebeen an Indian maiden, she would have been known as "Wild Rose, " or"Singing Bird, " or "Water Lily, " or some such name. As it was, many ofthe villagers called her "Little Sunshine, " for her joyous spirit couldlight up the darkest corner. She was faithful at school, affectionateand industrious at home, and joyous and honorable among her playmates. What wonder, then, that everybody loved her, or that she was happiestamong the happy? Her brother Rudolph was much younger than she, --arosy-checked, strong-armed little urchin of seven years; and Kitty, theyoungest of the Hedden children, was but three years of age at the dateat which my story opens. There was one other individual belonging to the family circle, largereven than Bessie, stronger and saucier even than Rudolph, and but littleolder than Kitty. He had no hands, yet once did, as all admitted, thebest day's work ever performed by any member of the family. Thisindividual's name was Bouncer, and he had a way of walking about onall-fours, and barking--probably in consequence of his having beencreated a dog. Bouncer loved all the children dearly; but, stout-hearted fellow that hewas, he loved the weakest one best; and, therefore, little Kitty wasnever without a friend and protector. Ever since a certain day in thesummer, when she had fallen into the stream, and had been carried homeinsensible by Bouncer, Kitty had loved the huge mastiff dearly, andnightly added to her simple prayer, "Please, God, bless dear Bouncer, too!" And Bouncer _was_ blessed beyond most dogs. Gentle as a baby whenKitty's arm was about his neck, he was fierce as a lion when fiercenesswas required. His great white teeth were a terror to evil-doers, and hisbark in the dead of night would make venturesome bears sneak back intothe forest like kittens. Often would Mrs. Hedden say to her neighbors, that with "husband's rifleand Bouncer's teeth, she felt that she lived in a fortress. As for thechildren, " she would add, laughingly, "I scarcely ever feel any anxietyabout them, when I know that Bouncer has joined their littleexpeditions. He is a regiment in himself. " II. EXPLORING THE STREAM. One of the favorite holiday resorts of Bessie and Rudolph was a lovelyspot in the forest, not a quarter of a mile from the house. Shaded bygiant oaks, whose gnarled roots lay like serpents, half hidden in themoss, ran a streamlet, covered with sunny speckles, where parted leavesadmitted the sunshine. Flowers grew along its banks in wild profusion, and it held its wayward course with many a rippling fall and fantasticturn, until it was lost in the shades of the forest. "Where does it go to, I wonder?" the children often would say to eachother, longing for permission to follow its windings farther than thelimits prescribed by their parents would allow. "To the ocean, of course, " Rudolph would answer, triumphantly; whileBessie, looking at its golden ripple, and listening to its musical song, half believed that it carried its wealth of sparkling jewels toFairyland itself. Sometimes, when Bouncer was with them, they lingered so long by themysterious streamlet, sending chip boats adrift upon its surface, ortrying to adjust troublesome little water-wheels under some of its tinycascades, that Mrs. Hedden would blow the big horn as a signal for theirreturn; and as they ran home, playing with Bouncer by the way, orscolding him for shaking his wet sides under their very faces, theywould inwardly resolve to coax father to take them up the stream on thevery first pleasant Saturday. Accordingly, on one bright Friday in June, as Bessie and Rudolph werereturning from school together, they ran toward their father, who wasworking in the clearing. "Father! father!" they shouted, "will you take us down the streamto-morrow?--we want to see where it goes to. " "Goes to?" laughed back the father. "Why, it goes to the moon; didn'tKitty say so last night?" "Now, father, " returned Bessie, pouting just a little, "you _know_ wedon't believe that. We want you so much to take us in the boat; itdoesn't leak at all now--oh! do. " And both children fairly capered intheir excitement. Mr. Hedden smiled; but; after wiping his forehead with a red and yellowhandkerchief, went on thoughtfully with his work without returning anyanswer. The children, looking wistfully at him a moment, turned toward thehouse, wondering among themselves, "what father meant to do about it. " That evening, at the supper-table (where they didn't have napkin ringsor silver salt-cellars, I can assure you), Mr. Hedden asked his wifewhether Tom Hennessy was back from "up river" yet? "I think he came home yesterday, " returned his wife. "Why do you ask?" "Because I thought, as to-morrow'll be a holiday, I'd get him to takethe youngsters down the stream in the scow. " "Oh! husband, " rejoined Mrs. Hedden, looking up anxiously, "do you thinkit's safe?" "Why not, Betsey?--the scow doesn't leak; and even if it did, the waterisn't above Tom's waist anywhere. " "I don't mean anything of that kind, " pursued the wife, smiling in spiteof herself at the joyful faces of the young folks. "I--I mean theIndians. " "Oh, never fear about them; I'll give Tom every necessary caution, " wasthe answer. "The boat won't be gone more than two hours altogether; and, to my mind, there wouldn't be the slightest danger in letting evenlittle Kitty join the party. " "Oh! tanky, Poppy, tanky!" shouted Kitty, clapping her chubby hands ingreat glee. Every one at the table laughed heartily at her unexpectedresponse. Bright and early the next morning, the children stood in the door-way, eagerly looking out for Tom. Big Tom, the village boys called him; andwell they might, for he was a staunch, burly fellow, who looked as if hecould crush an Indian in each hand--not that he had ever had anopportunity to perform that remarkable feat, for Tom Hennessy had butrecently arrived from a large town in the East; but he _looked_ as if hecould do it; and, therefore, had credit for any amount of prowess andstrength. After sundry directions given by Mr. Hedden to Tom, and a command fromtheir mother for the little folks to be home at dinner-time, they setforth amid shouts of laughter and merriment. Kitty was there in all herglory, for, after what "Poppy" had said, she had insisted upon joiningthe party. Even Bouncer, in spite of many a "Go back, sir!" "Call him, mother!" had quietly insinuated himself into the group, and neitherthreats nor coaxing could force him away. It was a glorious day; and, as they neared the stream, it seemed tosparkle into joyous welcome at their approach. Soon, comfortably seated in the scow, they were pushed and rowedlaboriously along by the good-natured Tom, while Bouncer panted alongthe bank, or dashed into the water, splashing the boat in fine style. Inpassing the accustomed "limits, " the delight of the children knew nobounds. "Now for it!" cried Bessie, clapping her hands. "Now we shall find outwhere the stream goes to!" And so they sailed along, following its graceful windings--sometimestouching bottom, and sometimes skimming smoothly over deep water, whereKitty could no longer clutch for the tall, bright grass that here andthere had reared itself above the surface. Often Big Tom would sing out, "Lie low!" as some great bough, hanging over the stream, seemedstretching out its arms to catch them; and often they were nearlychecked in their course by a fallen trunk, or the shallowness of thewater. At last, upon reaching a very troublesome spot, Tom criedgood-naturedly-- "Now, youngsters, you must all get out while I turn the scow over this'ere log, and then you can jump in again on t'other side. " With merry shouts they leaped out, one after the other, Tom holdingKitty in his arms, as he stood knee-deep in the water. "What is the matter with Bouncer?" cried Bessie. There was no time for a reply. Looking up, the frightened party sawthree hideous faces peering at them over the bushes! "The Indians! the Indians!" screamed Bessie. Springing to the shore, and catching Rudolph with one arm, while heheld Kitty tightly in the other, Tom Hennessy dashed into the forest, calling upon Bessie to follow. Poor Bessie! What could she do? With athrill of horror she saw two fierce savages bounding after them withfearful yells, while a third, with upraised club, and tomahawk andscalping-knife in his belt, was rushing toward her. Uttering one long piercing scream, the poor girl knelt to await herdoom. A prolonged roar of fury caused her to raise her head. Bouncer, brave, noble Bouncer, and the Indian had fallen together in a deadlystruggle! Now was her time! With new energy and hope, she sprang to herfeet, and darted through the forest, rending the air with cries forhelp, and unconscious of whither she was flying. "Rudolph! Kitty!" she cried, frantically. "God in heaven help us! Oh!help us!" III. WHERE ARE THE CHILDREN? It was nearly dinner-time in the Hedden cottage. Farmer Hedden sat inthe doorway, equipped in his hunting dress--for he usually spentSaturday afternoons in the forest; and it was only at his wife'ssolicitation that he had consented to wait and "take a bite of dinner"before starting, Every now and then he raised his head from the almanac, over which he was bending, to listen to the whirr of his wife'sspinning-wheel, and her merry song issuing from the cottage, or to castan impatient glance in the direction of the streamlet. Within, all was neatness and cheerfulness; the clean deal table wasarranged with its row of yellow platters and shining pewter-mugs--eventhe stools were standing round it, ready for the hungry household thatusually assembled at noon, eager for dinner. "Father's" and "mother's" places were at either end of the table;Rudolph's and Kitty's at one side (Kitty had a high chair made by"father" out of young oak branches); Bessie's opposite; and, besidehers, the prettiest plate; and the brightest mug for Big Tom--for, ofcourse, he must be asked to stay. Everything was ready. Far back in the open fireplace the fagots wereblazing and snapping. Hanging above them, the great iron pot threw fortha circle of noisy steam around the loosely fitted lid, while thepotatoes within were in a high state of commotion--little ones tumblingpell-mell over big ones, and big ones rocking dolefully backward andforward in the boiling water as though they felt sure their end wasapproaching. "Blow the horn again, John, " called out Mrs. Hedden, as she cut anotherslice from the big brown loaf that had rapidly been growing less underher shining knife. "Ha! ha! they can't help hearing _that_, " shelaughed, as her husband blew a blast even louder than usual. After waiting a moment, Mr. Hedden came in, throwing the almanac on alow wooden settee as he entered. "No use waiting any longer, wifey--let's sit by. I don't see a sign ofthe youngsters; though it did seem to me I heard some of 'em screamingand laughing in the distance a bit ago. 'Twon't do, though, " hecontinued, shaking his head; "we must make the crazy little cubs mindthe horn closer. Play's play, and all well enough in its way, but youmust teach children regularity from the very outset, or they'll never begood for much. " "That's true enough, John, " answered his wife, as she "dished" some ofthe steaming potatoes--leaving a goodly number in the pot for the littlefolk--"that's true enough; but you know this is a day of extra frolicfor the children. They're having such fun, likely, they've no notionhow the time is passing. As for the horn, who could expect mortal earsto hear _that_--with Bessie and Big Tom laughing and singing, andRudolph screaming with fun--as I know he is; and little Kit, bless her!just frantic with delight; I think I can see them now, the merrymadcaps!" Ah! happy, unconscious mother, if you _could_ have seen them--if theircries of terror could but have reached your ears! Finally, neighbor Hedden arose, shoving back his stool on the sandedfloor. "Well, well, wifey, you're right enough, no doubt; but I tell you itisn't best to be too easy with youngsters, though ours are the bestgoing, if I _do_ say it. A good trouncing all around, when they come in, wouldn't be a bit too much for them for being so late;" and, half infun, half in earnest, he shook his head rather fiercely at his wife, andstalked out of the cottage. Presently she laughed outright to hear the loud, impatient tones issuingfrom the great tin horn. "That'll fetch them, I reckon, " said neighborHedden, showing a smiling face at the window. As another hour passed away, the songs grew fewer and fainter upon themother's lips--at first from vexation, and, finally, from weariness anda vague feeling of anxiety. "Bessie should know better, " she thought to herself, "than to stay solong. I wish I had not let Kitty go with them. " The next moment she smiled to think how hungry the children would bewhen they returned, and half wished that it would not be "spoiling" themto make them a good sugar-cake for their supper. Not until the shadows grew longer upon the edge of the forest, andthreatening clouds grew thicker overhead, did her heart quail or hercheek grow white with sudden fear. "Oh! what _can_ keep them, I wonder! Why didn't I ask John to go lookfor them?" she asked herself over and over again. But Mrs. Hedden wasnot one to sit weeping with folded hands while anything remained to bedone. It was not long before their nearest neighbor, who was still at work, enjoying the coolness of the afternoon, leaned upon his spade to wonderwhat on earth neighbor Hedden's wife was up to now. "Why, look there! Bob, " he called out to his son, "if she ain't leapingover this way like a year-old colt!" In the mean time, neighbor Hedden himself was having but sorry sport inthe forest. He saw nothing worth even pointing his gun at, and feltaltogether so ill at ease and so fidgety as he trudged along, steppingnow upon the soft moss, and now upon fallen branches that crackled evenunder the stealthy tread of his hunting moccasins, that I doubt whetherhalf the bears hidden in the depths of the forest were not in a liveliermood than he. Not that he had anything to make him feel especiallyill-humored, unless it was the disobedience of his children in havingfailed to appear at dinner-time--but it seemed to him that there wassomething going wrong in the world, some screw loose in his affairsthat, unless he turned it tight in time, would cause his happiness andthe prosperity of his home to fall in ruins about him. After awhile thisfeeling became so strong that he seated himself upon a stone to think. "I haven't been as neighborly as I might have been, " he reflected:"there's many a turn been wanting by these new-comers, the Morrises, that I might have tended to, if I hadn't been so wrapped up in my ownaffairs. Come to think, almost the only kindness I've done for nearly ayear past was in giving a bag of potatoes to that sick fellow, Po-no-kah, who seemed to me to be a good fellow, as Indians go. However, it ain't much kindness to give to those murderous red-skins when there'splenty of white men wanting help. Well, if I'm not agoin' to shootanything, I guess I'd better go home. " With these last words, uttered half aloud, neighbor Hedden arose, andwalked a few steps in the direction of his home. Presently he pausedagain, muttering to himself-- "It's blamed queer I haven't heard the youngsters coming down with thescow; I certainly should have heard them if they'd passed anywherenear--guess I'd best walk on a little way up stream. " So saying, he turned, with a new anxiety upon his countenance, and movedwith rapid strides toward the rivulet, that still ran rippling on, though the bright sparkles that lit its surface at noon had vanished. Indeed, by this time the sunshine was, fast vanishing, too, for heavyclouds were gathering overhead, while those in the west were gilded ontheir lower edge. IV. THE SEARCH. Neighbor Hedden, now intent upon his new thoughts, hurried along thebank of the stream. There were pretty tassel-flowers and Jack-in-pulpitsgrowing there, which at any other time he might have plucked, andcarried home in his cap for Kitty; but he did not heed them now. Something in the distance had caught his eye, something that, showingdarkly through the trees, from a bend in the streamlet, caused hisbreathing to grow thicker and his stride to change into a run--_it wasthe empty boat_! Hastening toward it, in the vain hope that he would find his little onesplaying somewhere near the spot, he clutched his ride more firmly, andgasped out their names one by one. Where were they?--his sunny-heartedBessie, his manly little Rudolph, and Kitty, his bright-eyed darling?Alas! the only answer to the father's call was the angry mutter of thethunder, or the quick lightning that flashed through the gatheringgloom! In frantic haste he searched in every direction. "Perhaps, " thought he, "they have become frightened at the sound ofbears, and hidden themselves in a thicket. They may even have got tiredand gone to sleep. But where is Tom Hennessy?" Again and again he returned to the boat, as though some clue might therebe found to the missing ones; but as often he turned back in despair, trusting now only to the flashes of the lightning to aid him in hissearch. The sharp twigs and branches tore his face and hands as, bendinglow, he forced himself where the tangled undergrowth stood thickest. Soon his hunting-cap was dragged from his head, as by some angry hand;he knew that it had caught upon the branches, and did not even try tofind it in the darkness. The heavy drops of rain, falling upon his bare head, cooled him with astrange feeling of relief. Next his gun, which he had leaned against atree, while on hands and knees he had forced his way into some brush, was swallowed up in the darkness. In vain he peered around him at every flash that lit the forest--hecould see nothing of it. Suddenly a bright gleam, shooting across hispathway, revealed something that instantly caught his eye--it was asmall bit of blue ribbon, such as Bessie often wore. Bending to pick itup, he started back in horror! The light had lasted but an instant, yetit had been long enough to show him that the ribbon was stained withblood, while near it the stones and leaves shone crimson! Even thegnarled roots of a fallen tree were dabbled with a fearful stain. Hecould see it all distinctly. With upraised arms, he knelt and pouredforth an agonized prayer-- "Great God! where are my children? Oh! have mercy! have mercy!" Flash after flash lighted up the kneeling form. Presently loud voicesresounded through the forest: "What, ho!" "Hedden! Hedden!" "Hennessy! Tom!" "Hallo!" Hedden stood upright. The voices were familiar. He shouted back lustily, and hurried toward the approaching lanterns. Alas! he came upon facesalmost as pale and inquiring us his own--no news on either side! His neighbors had eagerly responded to the mother's appeal, but so farhad searched the forest in vain. If Bouncer only could be found; and, for almost the first time in years, Hedden called, "Bouncer! Bouncer!"without seeing the great fellow leaping toward him. What wonder, though--even Bouncer could scarcely have recognized that voice now! "Hark!" cried one of the neighbors. They listened. There was certainly a panting sound from some spot notfar away. "Bouncer! Bouncer!" cried the poor father. The panting again; theylowered their lanterns. What was that lying upon the ground--lying thereclose by Bouncer? It was Bessie! They rushed toward her. She was lyingvery still; Bouncer was breathing heavily. They raised her from the ground. "Bessie! Bessie! my darling, speak to me!" cried the father. Her eyes opened slowly; for an instant she did not know who held her. "Bessie, child, it's father--speak to me!" She looked at him an instant, then with a pitiful cry buried her face inhis bosom. Bouncer staggered forward, and now, by the light of the lanterns, theycould see a broad gash upon his shoulder, and another upon his head. Helooked up at Bessie with a mournful whine. "Oh, Bouncer, dear Bouncer! can't _you_ tell me where they are?" criedBessie, turning suddenly, and gazing upon him with streaming eyes. The brave fellow tried to wag his tail, but his strength was failingfast. "He came to me only a little while ago, " sobbed Bessie. "Oh! I was sothankful! but he came so slowly I knew he was hurt. I put out my handand felt him all hot and wet--I can't remember anything since then. Oh!father, don't let poor Bouncer die--see! he is falling! Dear oldBouncer!" and she threw herself down beside him. The poor fellow turned his head, and tried to lick her hand; thenstarted up, growling with something like his old savageness, and fellover. They tried to lift him; they called his name. Even Bessieattempted to arouse him with a cheerful call. There was nomovement;--Bouncer was dead! It seemed hard to leave the body of the faithful creature lying exposedin the forest, but this was no time to bury him. All that they could gather from Bessie's confused account of thesurprise by the Indians, and her own escape, served to make the partyfeel that further effort was almost hopeless--still they would notdespair. It was decided that one of their number should take the rescuedgirl back to her mother, while the rest should proceed in their search. The fury of the storm had passed by this time, though the rain fell ingreat splashing drops, and the wind muttered angrily among the trees inanswer to the distant rumbling of the thunder. Drenched to her skin, andshivering with excitement, Bessie begged that she might go with herfather. "We will find them soon, " she pleaded; "I'm sure we will, and then wecan all go home together. It will frighten mother so dreadfully to seeme coming alone, without Rudolph and Kittie, and Bouncer!" The man whose lantern had gleamed upon her shaded the light with hisgreat rough hand from the spot where Bouncer lay, and in a voice astender as a woman's, urged her to go with him at once, "Go, Bessie, " said her father hurriedly, on seeing that she stillresisted, "we are losing time. " This was enough. "Good-night, dear father!" she sobbed, as she was ledaway; "don't tell Rudolph about Bouncer until he gets home, father--itwill almost break his heart. " A voice that even Bessie could scarcely recognize called back throughthe darkness: "Good-night, my child. Go easy, Joe, and keep a sharplook-out. " "Ay! Ay!" answered the man in a suppressed voice, as he grasped morefirmly the little hand in his, and hurried on. After a wearisome tramp, they at last reached the edge of the forest. Bessie started to see a tall, white figure rushing with outstretchedarms toward them. "It's the mother, " said Joe, pityingly, raising the lantern as he spoke. "Oh, Joe!" screamed the poor woman, "have you found them?--tell me, quick!" "Well--no, Mrs. Hedden, " he shouted in reply, "not exactly that--butwe've got the gal safe an' sound--not a scratch on her. " In another moment Bessie was in her mother's arms. "Only me, mother!" she sobbed; "only me; but father's looking for themand, oh! mother, Bouncer is dead!" The next day brought no better tidings. At noon the men returned fromtheir search, jaded and dispirited. After the first explanations wereover, Mr. Hedden called one of the party aside and whispered, huskily-- "Give her this, Dennis--I can't; and tell her it was the only trace wecould find. " The mother's quick eye caught sight of the object before her husband hadfairly drawn it from beneath his hunting-jacket. "It's Kitty's hood, "she cried, stretching forth her hand as she fell senseless to the floor. That evening, and for many a day afterward, the search was continued butwithout success; no trace could be found of either Tom Hennessy, Rudolph, or little Kitty. V. THE CAPTIVES. And what had befallen Tom and the children, on the fearful day of theirsail up the beautiful stream? Bessie's eyes had not deceived her when, in one agonized glance, she had seen Tom dash into the forest bearingRudolph and Kitty in his arms, followed by yelling savages. The chase, however, was a short one; before Tom had advanced many steps hispursuers closed upon him, and tearing the children from his embrace, bound his arms close to his body with deerskin thongs. The children, screaming with terror, struggled in the arms of the Indians and calledfrantically upon Tom for help; but he, poor fellow, could only turn hispitying eyes upon them and beg them to remain quiet. "It'll save you from worse things, " he groaned. By this time severalsavages, darting from near hiding-places, had surrounded them and Tomabandoned all hope of escape. Bessie's screams had died away, and hefelt sure that she had been killed by the Indian who had first rushedupon her. After holding a moment's council the Indians began a rapid march, hurrying Tom along with them, and almost dragging the terrifiedchildren--who, each with a tiny hand in the grip of a painted warrior, ran panting by their sides. Hurrying on, faster and faster, until evenTom was nearly out of breath, the savages, without exchanging a wordamong themselves, continued their flight (for such it seemed), carefullyavoiding even the breaking of a twig, or anything that could furnish aclue to those who might come in pursuit. Soon Kitty, who could run no more, was snatched angrily from the groundand carried, like a bundle, under the great muscular arm of one of thesavages. But when Rudolph showed evident signs of exhaustion, theIndians paused, evidently consulting together whether they should nottomahawk the children at once. Tom could stand it no longer. He declaredthat he would not go another step if the children were injured a hair. "Let me carry them, " he cried. "I am strong enough to bear a dozenyoungsters--unbind me, I say, and hand 'em over. " Some of the red men knew enough of English to understand his meaning. With a contemptuous sneer one of them tossed Rudolph on Tom's back; thenset one of his arms free, and drove him onward with many a brutalstroke. It was hard work for Tom, shackled as he was, to bear thefrightened boy, who at times clung to his throat so tightly as to almoststrangle him. "Hold on, Rudolph, boy, " he whispered; "lower down--there, that way. Nowdon't cry; you're father's little man, you know. " "Oh, Tom, " sobbed the poor boy, "they'll kill us, I'm sure, as theykilled little Annie Green. See, now, how they carry Kitty--how theyscrape her face against the bushes; oh! oh!" and Rudolph hid his eyes inTom's hair, crying as if his little heart would break. "Hush!" muttered Tom, sternly, "or I'll put you down. " In an instant one of the red men whose look, though grim and fearfulenough, showed less savageness than his companions, gruffly took Kittyfrom the Indian who was carrying her with such cruel carelessness. Thechange comforted the child, and in a few moments the exhausted littlecreature was sleeping soundly upon his shoulder, never waking eventhrough the thunder-storm that ere long seemed to rend the forest. In this way the Indians hurried on, pausing once to change theircaptive's bands, so as to leave his right arm free instead of his left. Now and then Tom would put Rudolph upon the ground for awhile, and whenthe little fellow flagged he would lift him up to his shoulder again. At nightfall the party halted and made a large fire of brush, by whichthey cooked some venison and hominy, which had been carried by themduring the march. After partaking of their meal, and giving theirprisoners a liberal supply, they disposed themselves for the night, first taking care to fasten Tom's hands and feet securely, and even tobandage the children's ankles so that they could not stand. In vain Tompeered about him for a chance of escape for himself and his charges--forhe would on no account have left them behind--but there was no hope. His knife had been taken away from him, and all night long he waswatched by two Indians, who remained near him in a sitting posture. Evenwhen their dusky faces were lost in the darkness, he could see the gleamof their piercing eyes as the fire-light flashed and faded. Once, whenthe pain from his fastenings became insupportable, he complained to oneof the watchers and begged to be unbound for a moment, while a wild hoperushed through his heart that he might then, quick as a flash, seizeRudolph and Kitty and fly through the darkness out of the reach of hispursuers. Vain hope! no opportunity came, though the Indian readilycomplied with his request. Almost every warrior raised himself upon hiselbow in an instant, and he felt the glare of a dozen eyes upon him atthe slightest motion he made. After the Indian had loosened thefastenings somewhat, and given Tom a drink of pure spring water, he evenoffered him some parched corn, and in no unfriendly way motioned to himto try and sleep; but all this show of kindness did not reassure Tom. Hehad heard enough of Indian warfare to feel that any consideration theymight show their prisoners at first was often but a proof that theywere reserving them for the greatest cruelties afterward. Long before daylight the next morning, the march was resumed, in thesame manner as on the previous day; and, indeed, for three or four daysit was continued over a country dense with cedar thicket, and becomingrougher and more rocky as they journeyed on. At last, after travelingwestward for a distance of ever a hundred miles--as nearly as Tom couldestimate--they saw, afar, rising from the lowlands, the smoke of anIndian encampment. Some one evidently had been on the look-out for them. Before theyreached the spot, they were welcomed with loud whoops and yells. Presently the entire community, as it seemed, turned out to receivethem--hundreds of savages, men, women, and children--who, when they sawthe prisoners, pierced the air with wild shouts of joy. The men were painted in every conceivable way, with hideous daubs ofcolor upon their limbs and faces, or tattooed so as to look more fearfulstill; their heads were closely shaved, leaving only a lock on thecrown, called the scalp-lock, which was twisted up so as to hold tuftsof brilliant feathers. The women, scarcely less hideous than the men(excepting here and there a young maiden, the joy of her tribe, standing apart from the rest), crowded fiercely about, and the children, naked and dirty, whooped and yelled like so many imps. The scene was certainly not likely to inspire the prisoners with anykeen sense of security. Indeed, Tom expected instant death at theirhands. As for Rudolph and Kitty, the poor little creatures werestupefied with terror, and clung to Tom in a way that seemed to make theIndian children half mad with delight. Suddenly all the warriors arranged themselves into two long lines, facing each other--and, brandishing their tomahawks, switches, andclubs, called upon Tom to run the gauntlet! One of the savages proceededto set free the limbs of the captive, at the same time explaining tohim, in broken English, the nature of the ceremony about to be enacted. This was nothing less than for Tom to run between the lines, along theirentire length, with the chance of receiving a blow from each Indian ashe passed. "Run like deer!" said the Indian, as he jerked off the last strip ofhide from the captive's arm, "then he get more few knock. " Casting one despairing look about him, and seeing not a possible chanceof escape, even if he were not bound to the spot by the presence ofRudolph and Kitty, poor Tom entered upon the dread ordeal. His wearinesswas forgotten as, in very desperation, he flew between the lines sorapidly that for a short distance the blows fell but lightly upon him. Soon a crushing stroke from the back of a tomahawk fell heavily upon hisshoulder, but he did not falter; the yells and blows of the savages lentwings to his feet--until, at last, when the end was nearly reached, ahuge chief struck him a blow, with his club, that felled him to theground. Springing up instantly, Tom dashed forward again, and staggeredon to the end of the line where he sank to the ground, unable to rise. Up to the last moment he could hear the shrieks of Rudolph rising abovethe din. The poor child had been forced to witness Tom's suffering fromthe first. As soon as Tom opened his eyes he saw the pale, tearful faces of Rudolphand Kitty. "Don't cry, youngsters, " he gasped; "be good, and we may gethome again yet. " "Oh, come _now_, " urged Kitty; "come tell mammy--mammy'll whip'em forhurtin' 'oo; naughty Injins!" Rudolph, forgetting his misery for an instant, laughed outright atKitty's words. The next instant he shook his head solemnly--ather--"No, Kitty, mother couldn't whip 'em. But oh, I wish we were home!I wish we were home!" he cried, giving vent to his terrors again, as hesaw a group of red men moving hastily towards them. After dashing water over Tom's wounds and laying him upon a bed ofdeer-skins, the savages seated themselves in a ring, and held a councilto decide the fate of the prisoners. The warriors sat in silence while agreat war-club was passed around the circle. Those who were in favor ofburning them alive struck the ground heavily with the weapon beforehanding it to the next warrior; while those who objected to putting themto death in that manner merely passed it on in silence. Tom saw all this from where he lay, and he knew its meaning well. With asinking heart he heard the heavy thump of the club as each warrior gavehis cruel vote, until at last one chief, holding the club in the air, pointed with a meaning gesture--first at Tom, then at Rudolph and Kitty. The chiefs responded with a grunt of assent to his inquiry concerningthe latter, but shook their heads when their attention was directed toTom. Then the noble fellow knew that not his fate, but that of thechildren was being decided; while they, unconscious little creatures, looked on half amused at what seemed to them some singular game. "Hi!" whispered Rudolph to Kitty, "didn't that fellow hit hard, though?--he'll beat I guess. " A moment more and the council was ended. One of the Indians approachedthe children and daubed their faces with black; it was a fatal sign, forit proved that the vote had been against them--Rudolph and Kitty were tobe put to death! VI. KA-TE-QUA. All that night, and for many days afterward, Tom lay in a burning fever, quite unconscious of what was passing around him. Meanwhile, strange to say, Rudolph and Kitty were treated almost withkindness. They were well fed, and were given the softest deer-skins tolie upon at night. Finding themselves unharmed as the hours went on, thelittle creatures became more confident, and finally resumed theirnatural playfulness. Kitty was never weary of the bright beads and ornaments of the Indianmaidens, and Rudolph found great delight in shooting with the bows andarrows of the _papooses_ or children, who, in turn, were wonderfullyamused at the bad shots of the little pale-face. Now and then, to besure, the vicious child of some chieftain would amuse itself by prickingKitty's tender skin with a thorn, and hearing her scream in consequence;or, having seen the black-and-blue marks upon her delicate arms, causedby the rough handling of her captors, they would pinch her flesh andwatch for the change of color with intense interest. One day they triedit while Rudolph was standing by, holding the hand of the squaw who hadhim in charge. No sooner did the usual scream escape Kitty's lips than, quick as thought, the boy broke from the woman's grasp, and, rushingupon his sister's tormentor, laid the little savage in the dust andpummeled him well. Instead of resenting this, the Indians seemed toadmire the pluck of the young pale-face, and he rose in their favor atonce. Especially did the old squaw, as Indian women are called, applaudhim. She was a strange old creature, named Ka-te-qua (_female eagle_), and, being half crazy, was looked upon by the Indians as one inspired byManitou, or the Great Spirit. Besides, her brother had been a famousMedicine-man[1] of the tribe; and her two sons, who had been slain inbattle, were celebrated braves or warriors, each owning long chains ofscalps, which they had taken from their enemies. So, of course, when shewagged her head in approbation of Rudolph's conduct, all the women nearher wagged their heads also. Indeed, had Tom remained ill a few weekslonger, the black marks on the children's faces would have worn offwithout any further injury being done them. But as he grew better, and, finally, was able to sit upright on his deer-skin couch, the malice ofhis captors was renewed. They resolved not only to carry out thesentence upon the children, but to put the sick pale-face to newtortures as soon as he was strong enough to afford them the requisiteamount of sport on the occasion. Accordingly on the fourth day afterRudolph had punished the little "Red-skin, " preparations were begun. Heaps of fagots were industriously piled against an oak tree, whichstood apart. Tom, with feet shackled, and his arms tightly secured tohis sides, was led out to witness the fearful scene. Rudolph and Kittywere seized, and, in spite of their struggles, bound side by side to thetree. Already the wild dance of the Indians had begun. Frightful yells andwhoops filled the air, and even women and little dusky children clappedtheir hands and shouted with excitement and delight. They broughtarmfuls of brush and laid it close to the pile. Nothing was needed tocomplete the deed but to apply the fatal torches, now sending forth hot, fierce gleams into the pale air, and brandished by a dozen yellingsavages. At a signal from an aged chief, the brush was lighted. The fire crackedand snapped; soon its snake-like wreaths curled about the pile, sendingthick smoke around the screaming victims, when, suddenly, oldKa-te-qua--she who had taken charge of the children--rushed from theneighboring forest. Tearing through the crowd, she flew to the pile offagots, and with vigorous strokes scattered the blazing wood in everydirection. Then, turning toward the astonished savages, who had retreated a fewpaces to escape the burning brands, she addressed them passionately inthe Indian tongue: "The Great Spirit, " she cried, "scowls upon you--the very flames hiss inthe wet grass. The sons of Ka-te-qua are gone to the happy huntinggrounds of the dead. Her wigwam is dark. The young pale-faces are to herlike the water-lilies of the stream. Why, when she was in the forestgathering herbs for the sick of her tribe, did ye steal them from herlodge like dogs? "Is the tongue of Ka-te-qua forked? Has she not said that no warriorneed hunt the deer for the young pale-faces? With her they shall growlike hickory saplings, towering with strength. The deer shall not bemore fleet than they, nor the songs of the birds more glad. The sunshall paint their white skins. The love of the red man shall enter theirhearts: they shall be as the young of our tribe. Unbind them! Give themto Ka-te-qua, or by the next moon a burning fever shall fall upon you. Like panthers will you bite the dust. All the waters of the greatcataract cannot quench your thirst, and your mightiest hunters will beas women. " She paused. A fine-looking chieftain arose and spoke: "The sister of the great Medicine-man has spoken well. She dwells alonein her wigwam Her arm is strong. Her eye is keen, like the hawk's. Thedeer fall before her, and her arrow can find the heart of the grizzlybear. Her corn stands higher than the grass of the prairie. She can feedthe young pale-faces. The Great Spirit gives them to her. Let it be so. " A council was held at once. This time more than half the chieftainspassed the club on in silence, for Ka-te-qua, as I have said, wasrespected among them; she had great powers of healing, and many of theIndians regarded her with a superstitious reverence. The children were unbound and borne in state to the old squaw's wigwam. From that hour, though they were closely watched and guarded, theirlives were safe. [Footnote 1: Mystery-man or Indian prophet. ] VII. BIG TOM. From the conduct of the Indians towards Tom, it was evident that histime for torture had not yet arrived. He therefore had tact enough toremain "weak" as long as possible, tottering languidly about thegrounds whenever they allowed him the liberty of exercising his limbs, and drinking the mixtures and decoctions of Ka-te-qua with the patienceof a martyr. In the meantime, the shrewd fellow took care to win thegood-will of the tribe by taking apparent interest in their games, andshowing a great amount of admiration at their feats of strength andagility. He amused them too by the display of numerous accomplishmentspeculiar to himself, such as whistling in close imitation of the songsof various birds, and performing feats of jugglery that he had long agolearned in his native town. He could bark like a dog and howl like awolf; imitate the distant tramping of horses' feet, and give the soundof a whizzing arrow so perfectly that the oldest chiefs would turn theirhead quickly in the direction of the sound. Neither at this, however, nor at any other of Tom's performances, would they show the slightestchange of countenance, for an Indian never allows himself to exhibitfeelings of surprise, considering it quite beneath the dignity of hisrace to do so. Even when, by some dexterous trick, Tom would show themtwo or three acorns under a leaf where their reason told them therecould be none, and then as mysteriously cause the same acorns todisappear, the stony faces looking on never changed a muscle though atheart they were probably quite as astounded as the Welsh monster wassupposed to be when Jack the Giant-Killer, performed such wonderfulfeats with hasty-pudding. By degrees, as Tom deemed it prudent to appearstronger, he would dance the sailors' hornpipe for them, or sing wild, rollicksome songs, or make beautiful rustic seats and bowers for thesquaws. He was a capital marksman, too, and soon won respect by showingthat he could handle a musket with the best of them. The few Indians whoowned guns had become very expert in their use; and Tom, whenever theyhad trials of their skill, took care to shoot just well enough to provehimself a good marksman, without provoking their anger by excelling toooften. After awhile, in his desire to win their confidence, he even went so faras to signify to the Indians that he would like to become one of them;that their mode of life suited him well, and he would be glad to huntand fish with them and be a pale-face no more. Alas! poor fellow, he didnot know what he was saying, or how soon he would find out that even incases of great temptation no one can tell a lie without sufferingunhappy consequences. The savages took him at his word. They held acouncil. After it was over, while most of them were still smoking theirlong, richly ornamented pipes with great deliberation, two or three ofthe Indians seized him and gravely commenced plucking out his hair bythe roots. [2] Soon Tom twitched from head to foot, and water stood inhis eyes; but the red men still kept on with their work, dipping theirfingers in ashes occasionally to enable them to take a better hold. Before long his head was completely bald, with the exception of one longtuft upon his crown, called the scalp-lock. This was immediatelystiffened and plaited, so as to stand upright and hold a variety ofornaments, which his glum hairdresser fastened upon it. Then two oldIndians pierced his nose and ears and hung big rings in the smartingholes. They then took off his clothing and painted his body with everyvariety of color. Next they hung a gaily embroidered cloth about hisloins, put a wampum[3] chain about his neck and fastened silver bands onhis right arm. When this was done the whole party gave three shrillwhoops, and men, women, and children crowded around him, making the mostfrantic gestures, and uttering the most horrid sounds that ever a poorfibbing white man heard. Next the maidens of the tribe rushed upon him, and, hurrying him to astream that ran near by, dragged him into the water until it reached hiswaist, and tried to force his head under. This of course, aroused allhis spirit of resistance; but, when one of the girls, named She-de-ah(wild sage), cried into his ear. "No kill! no kill!" he concluded tosubmit. After this he was ducked and held under most unmercifully, until, believing by this time that "the white blood must be all washed out ofhim, " they led him up the shore, all shivering and dripping, andpresented him to their principal chief. The next performance was to dress him in an Indian shirt ornamented withfeathers and beads and bits of porcupine quill. They put leggins on hislegs and moccasins on his feet, and, seating him upon a bear-skin, gavehim flint and steel to strike a light with; then a pouch, a tomahawk, some tobacco, and a long pipe. Then the chiefs seated themselves besidehim, and smoked in silence. Tom knew well enough that he was expected tosmoke too, and filled and lit his pipe accordingly, never dreaming ofthe consequences. Old as he was, nearly twenty, this was his "firstsmoke, " and very soon the poor fellow found himself growing deadly sick. He could feel the cold chills creeping one after another into his veryface. Finally, something within him seemed to turn somersaults, when, yielding to a sudden impulse, he flung the pipe upon the ground, andrushed into the recesses of the wigwam, where he usually slept. Thisthe Indians, who attach an almost sacred importance to the pipe, took asa great affront; and only when Tom afterward, by the most earnestgestures, explained to them the real cause of his conduct, did theyallow their injured feelings to be pacified; though it cut him sorely tonotice the expressions of contempt, and ridicule that were soon lavishedupon him. Whether this proof of what seemed in Indian opinion a want ofmanliness had anything to do with their conduct or not, I cannot say, but certain it is that no further ceremonies towards making him ared-man were performed though he was allowed to wear his Indian costume. Neither did they allow him to hunt with them, as he had hoped. Wheneverthey went forth to shoot the bison or deer, or to trap the beavers, orwage war with hostile tribes, they always left him with the squaws, theold men, and the warriors who remained at home to take charge of thesettlement. Rudolph and Kitty were sorely frightened when they first saw the strangefigure, "half Indian, half Tom, " as Rudolph afterward described him, stalk into Ka-te-qua's wigwam. His bald head and painted body struckpoor Kitty with dismay. When he spoke soothingly to her, and gave her ahandful of bright feathers, she ventured to approach him, though shecried pitifully all the time for Tom, dear, big Tom, who knew papa andmamma, and Bessie and Bouncer. Neither Kitty nor Rudolph had forgotten the brave dog through all thesedays of absence, and they loved to hold long conversations with Tomabout him; though the little creatures oftener talked of their parentsand Bessie, as they lay at night upon their beds of dried grass. [Footnote 2: See American Adventure by Land and Sea. Harper Bros. 1842. ] [Footnote 3: _Wampum_. Beads made of shells, used by North AmericanIndians as money, the shells run on strings, and are wrought into beltsand ornaments. ] VIII. BOUNCER'S WORK. There was another person in the settlement besides the captives, who wasnot likely to forget Bouncer very soon. This was an Indian who, woundedand exhausted, had reached the settlement four days after the arrival ofthe prisoners. He had an ugly mark upon his throat, and another on hischest, and he sulked aside from the rest of his tribe as though he feltthat his wounds were ignoble, and a dishonor to his Indian birth. It washis blood that Farmer Hedden had seen on that fearful night; and whenmore than once the agonized father had listened to what seemed to be thetread of some skulking wolf, he had heard this very Indian, who, halfdead with pain and loss of blood, was dragging himself slowly throughthe depths of the forest. This discomfited warrior had looked upon Tom and the two littlepale-faces with dislike, from the hour when he first saw them asprisoners in the encampment. They were constant reminders to him of hismortifying struggle with the dog. He felt it all the more because, though his jacket and leggings were trimmed with the scalps of hisenemies, he had lately been forced to receive charity from the whiteman's hand, This was when, starving and nearly frozen, he had fallenhelpless in the forest, after an unlucky trapping excursion; a settlerhad found him there, given him food and drink and sent him on his waywith a bountiful supply of provisions. Big Tom saw the dark looks of this Indian, and regarded him withsuspicion; but little Kitty was quite unconscious of the resentfulfeelings of "the sick man, " as she called him. In fact, as soon as shegrew more familiar with the Indians, she often sought him in preferenceto the rest, and loved to sit upon the ground beside him, and tracewith her tiny fingers the patterns worked upon his leggings andmoccasins. At first the grim warrior repulsed these familiarities; but when, as hebegan to mingle with his tribe, he heard her sweet voice calling him byname, and saw her day after day display her store of beads and feathersat his feet, his feelings gradually softened. Before long he ceased toscowl upon her when she lifted her sunny face to his, and, on rareoccasions, he even allowed her to count his arrows. Once, when Rudolph had shot a wild turkey, he rushed to Ka-te-qua'swigwam with his prize, for he had learned to love the strange old squaw, though he feared her, too, sometimes. Kitty clapped her hands withdelight at her brother's skill, and begged him to go with her and showthe dead bird to her favorite Indian. "Come, Rudolph; come show 'Nokah, '" she pleaded, pulling the younghunter by the arm. "Come twick! he goin' away. " Rudolph suffered himself to be led. They found Po-no-kah standing aloneby a tree, fully equipped for the hunt. He looked at the turkey and gave a grunt, not particularly flattering toRudolph's vanity. "I've shot THREE!" said the boy, holding up three fingers to make hismeaning clearer. "Ugh!" grunted the savage again. "Paleface no shoot much. " "But I'm growing, " persisted Rudolph. "When I'm big, I'm going to shootbears and bison. Did you kill the bears to get all these claws?" headded, pointing up to Po-no-kah's necklace, which was formed entirely ofhuge bear-claws, strung through the thickest end. "Ugh, " replied the Indian, nodding his plumed head, "me shoot him. " "And these scalps, " said Rudolph, shuddering as he pointed to the fringeof human hair hanging from the buckskin leggings; "did _you_ get allthese?" "Ugh, " he answered grimly, nodding the plumes again. "You are bad, then, " exclaimed Rudolph, looking fearlessly intoPo-no-kah's eyes. "I know _you_, " he added suddenly, after gazing at himintently for an instant. "Father brought you into our kitchen lastwinter, and I ran behind the door. Mother gave you meat and hot drink, and father warmed you and gave you a bag of potatoes. Oh!" he continued, clasping Po-no-kah's knee, "_you_ know where our home is. Nearly everynight I dream that mother is calling us. Show me the way, please do. Ka-te-qua says there are dreadful things in the forest that will eat meup, but I am not afraid. Oh, do tell us the way home!" The Indian gave a sharp look at the sobbing boy, and seemed in part tounderstand his words. Stooping, he whispered in a stern tone: "No speak;no tell Ka-te-qua;"--and without one glance of encouragement, he stalkedaway to the spot where the other Indians had assembled, preparing forthe hunt. The children saw him no more for weeks. Rudolph remembered his partingwords, and though he could not fully understand Po-no-kah's motive, hefaithfully obeyed his command. Not even to Tom did he relate what hadoccurred. IX. INDIAN LIFE. Rudolph and Kitty learned many things from the Indians that they neverwould have studied in the rough school-house near their pretty home; andthey soon became familiar with many singular customs that at firstfilled them with wonder. For instance: when they, or any of the little papooses, were naughty ordisobedient, they were put under what might be called the water-curetreatment. Instead of being whipped or locked up in a dark pantry--aswas, I am sorry to say, the custom among some white people--they weresimply "ducked" under water until they became manageable. Winter orsummer, it was all the same. A bad child would very soon become a wetchild, if there were any water within a mile. There are bright sides, as well as dark, to the Indian character; and inconsidering their cruelties and inhuman practices, we must remember thatthe white man has not always been just to him or set a good example tohis uncivilized brother, or been careful not to provoke him to deeds ofresentment and wrong. An Indian rarely forgets a kindness, and he nevertells a lie. He is heroic, and deems it beneath a man's dignity toexhibit the slightest sign of pain under any circumstances. Among theSioux tribe of that time, the boys were trained from the first to bearas much hardship as possible. They had a ceremony called the StrawDance, in which children were forced to maintain a stately and measuredstep, while bunches of loose straws tied to their naked bodies werelighted and allowed to burn slowly away. Any poor little creature whoflinched or "broke step" was sorely punished and held in disgrace. There were certain dances among the Indians performed by the warriors, before going either to battle or to the hunt. If to battle, they spenthours, and often whole days and nights together, in the fearfulwar-dance, accompanied by clashing on their drumlike instruments, andwhoops that rang long and loud amid the echoing hills. If to the hunt, the Bear-Dance or the Buffalo-Dance was kept up nights and days beforestarting, in order to propitiate the Bear Spirit or Buffalo Spirit, whichever it might be. They had a funeral dance also, which was verysolemn and impressive. And if a chieftain was to be buried, either inthe river, or, as among the Mandans, on a rough platform erected onpoles high up from the ground, the warriors danced before his wigwam, and assigned to a few of their number the duty of seeing that his widowand children, if he left any, should never be without food and shelter. Kitty and Rudolph often looked on with, mingled feelings of terror anddelight, while some of these strange ceremonies were being enacted. Itwas curious to see the stalwart warriors, with bent backs and glumfaces, and many a grunt or whoop, stamp through the measured dance. Often Kitty would clutch her brother's arm in terror, when, in strangeconcert, the savages would suddenly halt, and with fiendish look andstealthy gesture, seem to be listening to the approach of an enemy. Sometimes, too, the women danced, but always apart from the men. Even intheir games the warriors and squaws never played together. Among theCrow Indians, famous for their long black hair, it was not uncommon fora thousand young men to play in one game of ball for three or fourconsecutive days without interruption. As soon as one player retired, exhausted, another took his place. Often hundreds of women playedtogether, and they were generally as expert as the men in throwing andcatching the ball. Another strange feature among Indian customs, was the importanceattached to the _medicine-bag_. Every warrior had one, and would nosooner hunt, or go to battle, or appear among his tribe without it, thanhe would neglect to wear his bow or his scalping-knife. Not that the bagcontained any medicine, such as we understand by the word--for it wasnothing but a small piece of skin sewed like a bag, curiouslyornamented, and stuffed with straw or leaves--but because he regarded itas a _charm_. With him, "medicine" meant some mysterious power thatwould protect and guide him, and propitiate the unseen powers in hisfavor. When about to obtain his medicine, the young Indian went alone tosome solitary river or lake in the depths of the forest, or mounted tosome lonely peak. Here he fasted, and remained until, sleeping, hedreamed. The first animal he dreamed about, whether it were a bear, buffalo, deer, weasel, or bird or reptile of any kind, became his"medicine" forever. He at once hunted until he found one, and obtainedits skin for a bag. Rudolph and Kitty looked with awe upon many of the rare medicine-bags ofthe tribe, though they were never on any account allowed to touch them. Indeed, Kitty had managed to make a rough little one for Rudolph, dottedwith clumps of beads, and he wore it next his heart with secret pride. The little fellow had once, while tramping through the forest withKatequa, seen a number of deer gathered around a spring, or salt-lick, as it is called, and had quivered with frightened delight to see thefinest one fall wounded by her arrow. When the large eyes of the woundedcreature had turned plaintively toward him, he had tried not to feelsorry, but his heart ached in spite of his efforts, "I shall be a mighty hunter one of these days, " he said to Kitty on hisreturn; "but I won't shoot deer, for they look at you just as if theywanted to speak. I'll get bears though, lots of 'em, and buffalo; andI'll have a fine trap when I get home, and catch badgers and foxes, justas the Indians do. " Tom and Rudolph saw with indignation that, throughout the village, thelabor and drudgery were forced upon the squaws, while the warriorsstretched themselves lazily upon the ground, or smoked their pipes underthe spreading trees. As for Kitty, she was too busy watching the womencook, dig, chop, and carry, to make any moral reflections. She loved, also, to sit beside them when they prepared the skins broughtin from the hunt, or while they were busy with their curious sewing, sodifferent from that with which she had seen her mother occupied. Bright-colored rags, feathers, beads, porcupine-quills, and even scrapsof tin, were the ornaments upon which the squaws relied to make thetoilets of their tribe "stylish" and beautiful; and Kitty--tiny littlewoman that she was--soon grew to agree with them perfectly in matters oftaste. To be sure, the Indian women never did anything quite so barbarous as toput their little girls' feet into narrow shoes with high heels, norfasten tight belts about their waists, so that the God-given machinerywithin could hardly work. But they did many preposterous things, for allthat. They painted their bodies and tattooed their skins, by prickingfigures on the flesh and rubbing in some staining juice when the bloodappeared. They even pierced their noses so that bright rings coulddangle from them. Many, too, hung bits of metal from their ears in asimilar way--but that may not strike my civilized readers as being avery barbarous custom. X. KA-TE-QUA'S "GOOD NIGHT. " Thus weeks and months passed away, not so wearily to the prisoners, asto the poor, sorrowing hearts that mourned for them at home. Tom's brainwas always busy in planning some mode of escape for himself and hislittle charges. But, as he was still closely guarded, never being leftalone for an instant, night or day, and as the children slept in thewigwam of Ka-te-qua, whose eyes seemed never intended to close, heconcluded to wait patiently rather than to risk the lives of all threeby an unsuccessful attempt. Meantime, Ka-te-qua's strong arms grew feeble, her arrow became lessfatal in its aim, and her strange fits of moodiness filled Rudolph andKitty with dread. For hours she would sit at the entrance of her wigwam, chantingmournfully in the Indian tongue. At such times she would compel thechildren to remain within, --becoming frantic with crazy rage should theyattempt to force past her into the pleasant sunshine; and they would sittogether in the shadow, hoping that by some whim she would walk away, orthat the long, long chant would cease. One afternoon she kept themwaiting in this way for hours. The sun sank lower and lower into thedistant prairie, and the crimson clouds faded to a dull gray. Rudolphand Kitty sat listening to the wailing tones of Ka-te-qua's voice until, as the evening grew dark and chilly, they found for themselves a scantysupper of parched corn, and after whispering their simple prayer, gropedtheir way to bed. The strange old creature ceased singing after a while, and entered thewigwam. They could distinguish her form as she slowly moved about, before throwing herself down near the entrance to indulge in her usualcat-like sleep. Afraid to speak to her, for they were not quite sure inwhat mood she might be, they watched her movements as well as theycould, and at last felt sure that she was tottering slowly toward them. Kitty clasped Rudolph's neck more tightly, and broke into a frightenedsob. In an instant, they felt her hand steal very gently over theirtumbled curls. "Night! night!" she whispered softly. "Good-night, Ka-te-qua, " they answered in a breath, for their fear wasall gone now. "Night, night, " repeated the voice, as kindly as their own mother couldhave said it, and after giving each a caressing stroke, their old friendmoved softly away. Very early the next morning the children were awakened by a buzzing ofmany voices. Ka-te-qua had been found lying stiff and cold at theentrance of her wigwam. Not a trace of injury of any kind was upon her. The Indians, crowding round, shook their heads gravely. Ka-te-qua waswise, they said, but Manitou had sent for her. She had gone to the happyHunting Grounds of her fathers. XI. FIRE-WATER BECOMES MASTER. After a long absence, the hunting party returned. As soon as Po-no-kah'sstalwart form appeared in sight, Rudolph and Kitty rushed, with a cry ofjoy, to meet him; but, to their great dismay, he pushed them away with afrown and a grunt that told them plainly that they were to be familiarwith him no more. Poor children!--Ka-te-qua gone, Po-no-kah changed, andTom scarcely heeding them, --they felt friendless indeed. Kind words theynever heard now, and kind looks rarely, except when Tom threw them ahasty glance that warmed their hearts, though they scarcely knew why. They did not know how his feelings yearned towards them, nor how eagerlyhe would have joined in all their simple pursuits, had he dared to doso; but the poor fellow had discovered that any notice he took of thechildren aroused suspicion, and he therefore concluded to pursue aprudent course. In the meantime the children had one great joy. Their love for eachother was always the same. Kitty trusted in the belief that "mammy"would send for them; but Rudolph looked ever up to the Great Love thathe knew was watching over them and the dear ones at home. "If it's _right_, Kitty, " he would whisper, "I _know_ we'll go home oneof these days. Don't be afraid. God will take care of us. " "But Dod took Te-qua away, " Kitty would sometimes say. "Yes, I know He did, Kitty, " and Rudolph's eyes would look sadly up tothe blue sky, "I know He did, but then I think she was tired and wantedto go. " Summer, autumn, and winter had passed away, and now came the season whenthe Indians carried their largest supply of furs and skins to sell inthe city far over the prairies. Often, after their hunts, they had metwith traders, and exchanged the skins they had taken for such articlesas the white man had to give--guns, blankets, knives, powder, pipes, andfire-water;[4] but this was the grand trading excursion of the year. When the party returned, after a few weeks' absence, they brought withthem among other things, a keg of whisky. After the first welcome wasover, the savages held a council. It was soon evident that a fearful scene was to be enacted. Theprisoners had seen something of the kind before, but never on so large ascale as this. The Indians had decided to hold a revel, in which nearly all the menwere to drink fire-water until they could take no more. Even these savages knew the horrible consequences of parting with theirwits in this manner. Before the drinking commenced, they appointed a fewable-bodied Indians who were to remain sober and take care of the rest. They then deprived themselves of all their dangerous weapons--tomahawks, clubs, guns, arrows, and knives, and prepared for their fearful riot. The scene that followed need not be described. Soon the confusion became fearful. The few sober chiefs were constantlyrisking their lives in their efforts to prevent mischief. Squaws werescreaming, and frightened children were hiding in every direction. Tom, who was half forgotten in the general excitement, saw Po-no-kahwhisper hurriedly to one of the women. In a moment she caught Rudolphand Kitty by their hands and stole cautiously with them into the forest. Tom's suspicions were aroused. He started up only to feel a strong armforce him back to the log upon which he had been seated. "No move!" muttered a voice, close by his ear. "Soon come. --Be verydrunk. " In a few moments, while the tumult and uproar were at their height, Tomsaw Po-no-kah reeling toward the forest. Wondering what the fellow meant to do, yet filled with a wild hope, Tomwatched his chance, staggered past the rioters, and managed to followthe warrior by another path, without creating any suspicion. When, at last, they met, Po-no-kah had Rudolph and Kitty in his arms, and, staggering no more, was hurrying through the forest, armed withbow, quiver, and traveling pouch. The astonished prisoner, after takingKitty from his companion's arms, followed him in silence. Not for hoursdid Po-no-kah look back or speak, and then it was but to say a fewbroken words: "Po-no-kah was hungry. The father of the little pale-faces fed him. Po-no-kah no snake--he remember--Po-no-kah take 'em home. " [Footnote 4: Brandy, rum, and all alcoholic liquors. ] XII. SHOWING HOW THE BAG OF POTATOES CAME BACK AGAIN. Farmer Hedden was busily at work in the fields, looking ten years olderthan on that sunny day, nearly a year before, when he had shouted alaughing "good-bye" to Tom and the little ones. Bessie was trudging alone from school, wondering why the birds sang lesssweetly than they did the May before, and wishing that the noble dogthat bounded by her side looked a little more like the first Bouncer. Mrs. Hedden sat with her brother in the lonely cottage, talking on theold, old theme; the memory of that terrible night had never left herheart. "No, no, Robert, " she said at length, in reply to some appeal from herbrother, "we must not go. I know it would be better for us to sell outand go to Philadelphia. But it cannot be; we must never leave thisspot. " "Surely, Betsy, " urged her brother, "you cannot be so wild as tosuppose--" "No!" she interrupted, "I never dare even hope for that now. I know mylost darlings are not in this world, and yet--and yet why not hope? whynot think that perhaps--" A shadow fell upon the threshold. What wonder that the mother sprangforward with a cry of joy! What wonder that Farmer Hedden, looking fromthe field, came bounding toward the house! Po-no-kah wasthere--Po-no-kah and little Kitty! Laughing, --crying, --clasping her dear Kitty frantically to her heart, then gazing at her at arms' length, Mrs. Hedden raised her eyes to theIndian, and gasped faintly-- "Rudolph? the boy--is he--" She could say no more. "Yes--boy all good, " answered Po-no-kah, eagerly, "white man say breakheart see two--he here. " Just then Farmer Hedden, Tom Hennessy, and Rudolph rushed in. Oh, what a meeting that was! And Bessie, too, was there before they knewit. Such laughter--such tears--such shouts of rejoicing had never beenknown in the Hedden cottage before! Soon the barking of a dog was heard. Rudolph sprang from his father'sarms: "Oh, it's Bouncer!" he cried; "let me see him. Here, Bouncer!" Bouncer indeed came leaping in at the call, but it was not _the_Bouncer, though it was a great, shaggy fellow, worthy of the name. Rudolph started back; the dog, too, eyed him with a suspicious look. "That isn't Bouncer! Where is he, mother?" exclaimed the poor boy, looking up with a bewildered glance. Po-no-kah slunk aside. "Do tell me where Bouncer is, " he repeated, "We are all here but him. Here, Bouncer! Bouncer!" and he ran to thedoor. Bessie wound her arms about his neck. "Rudolph, darling, " she sobbed, "don't cry. Bouncer was killed on _that_day. He saved my life, Rudolph--" "Bouncer dead!" screamed the boy. Just then the new dog, seeing Bessie and her brother so close together, felt that he had a right there, too. With many a frantic leap and boundhe endeavored to draw Rudolph's attention, until, finally, the tearfuleyes of the boy were turned upon him. Then, if ever a dog tried to dohis best, that fellow did. He sprang into the air, barked, tumbled, leaped, whined, wagged his tail till it almost spun, and, finally, licked Rudolph in the face until the chubby cheeks shook with laughter. All this time Tom's Indian dress had scarcely been noticed. At last Mrs. Hedden, grasping both his hands, exclaimed: "Why, what in the world have you been doing with yourself? I knew you, though, the moment you came in. Oh, Tom, how you have suffered!" Tom tried to answer her; but somehow his great faithful heart wasoverflowing, and he could only look at her with a tearful smile. "That's nothing, " he said at length. "It's all ended well, anyhow. But afellow can't help thinking of his own folks, dead and gone, when he seessuch a meeting as this. " Mr. Hedden, who had been talking with Po-no-kah, walked over to Tom andplaced his hand upon his shoulder. "_We_ are your folks now, my faithful fellow. God bless you! I can neverrepay what I owe you. Remember, our home is yours from this hour. Ishall take no denial. " "Good!" exclaimed Bessie, clapping her hands; "now I shall have twobrothers!" Mrs. Hedden, who had listened to Po-no-kah's broken words, kissed andhugged Tom in her motherly way. "Dear me, " she exclaimed, "how can wemake you look like a white man again; and to think you have had chancesto escape and would not leave the children, " and then she hugged himagain. "Ugh!" grunted the Indian, nodding his head and holding up threefingers--to signify that Tom had had three chances. "Pooh!" said the brave fellow, blushing through all the red paint, "Ididn't have any at all until a month or so ago, and I'd got kind o' usedto staying then. " Soon the red man turned to go. In vain the grateful parents tried toforce their gifts upon him, and to persuade him to at least partake ofsome refreshment after his long journey. He pointed to his hunting-pouch and his bow, as if to say that theywould furnish all the the food he required, and nodded westward to showthat he must be far on his way before sundown. As Tom gave him a hearty hand-shake and the rest crowded about him, all, even to little Kitty, thanking him over and over again, he waved themoff with dignity. "No thank, " he said; "Po-no-kah was cold and hungry; the father of theyoung pale-faces gave him food. He come tell white man Indian noforget. " Tom expressed anxiety lest their deliverer should suffer for his actwhen he returned to his tribe. "Po-no-kah no fraid" answered the Indian grimly with almost a smile uponhis face. And, nodding a farewell to little Kitty, he strodemajestically away. * * * * * A year later, the Heddens settled on a fine farm near Philadelphia. Rudolph and Kitty doubtless walked many a time by the old Hall where ourDeclaration of Independence was signed. Bessie Hedden's sons when they grew up became pioneers themselves; andtheir names were Hennessy; so you see the maiden probably, in the courseof time, changed her mind about having Tom for a brother.