In the Days of Poor Richard
3
Solomon's speech that evening before the council fire impressed theIndians. He had given much thought to its composition and Jack hadhelped him in the invention of vivid phrases loved by the red men. Headdressed them in the dialect of the Senecas, that being the one withwhich he was most familiar. He spoke of the thunder cloud of warcoming up in the east and the cause of it and begged them to fight withtheir white neighbors, under the leadership of The Great Spirit for thejustice which He loved. Solomon had brought them many gifts in tokenof the friendship of himself and his people.
Old Theandenaga, of the Mohawks, answered him in a speech distinguishedby its noble expressions of good will and by an eloquent, but notill-tempered, account of the wrongs of the red men. He laid particularstress on the corrupting of the young braves with fire-water.
"Let all bad feeling be buried in a deep pool," Solomon answered."There are bad white men and there are bad Indians but they are notmany. The good men are like the leaves of the forest--you can notcount them--but the bad man is like the scent pedlar [the skunk].Though he is but one, he can make much trouble."
Every judgment of the league in council had to be unanimous. Theyvoted in sections, whereupon each section sent its representative intothe higher council and no verdict was announced until its members wereof one mind. The deliberations were proceeding toward a favorablejudgment as Solomon thought, when Guy Johnson arrived from JohnsonCastle with a train of pack bearers. A wild night of drunken revelryfollowed his arrival. Jack and Solomon were lodging at a log inn, keptby a Dutch trader, half a mile or so from the scene of the council. Alittle past midnight, the trader came up into the loft where they weresleeping on a heap of straw and awakened Solomon.
"Come down the ladder," said the Dutchman. "A young squaw has come outfrom the council. She will speak to you."
Solomon slipped on his trousers, coat and boots, and went below. Thesquaw was sitting on the floor against the wall. A blanket was drawnover the back of her head. Her handsome face had a familiar look.
"Put out the light," she whispered in English.
The candle was quickly snuffed and then:
"I am the Little White Birch," she said. "You and my beautiful youngbrave were good to me. You took me to the school and he kissed mycheek and spoke words like the song of the little brown bird of theforest. I have come here to warn you. Turn away from the great campof the red man. Make your feet go fast. The young warriors are drunk.They will come here to slay you. I say go like the rabbit when he isscared. Before daylight, put half a sleep between you and them."
Solomon called Jack and in the darkness they quickly got ready to go.The Dutchman could give them only a loaf of bread, some salt and a slabof bacon. The squaw stood on the door-step watching while they weregetting ready. Snow was falling.
"They are near," she whispered when the men came out. "I have heardthem."
She held Jack's hand to her lips and said:
"Let me feel your face. I can not see it. I shall see it not againthis side of the Happy Hunting-Grounds."
For a second she touched the face of the young man and he kissed herforehead.
"This way," she whispered. "Now go like the snow in the wind, mybeautiful pale face."
"Can we help you?" Jack queried. "Will you go with us back to thewhite man's school?"
"No, I am old woman now. I have taken the yoke of the red man. In theHappy Hunting-Grounds maybe the Great Spirit will give me a pale face.Then I will go with my father and his people and my beautiful youngbrave will take me to his house and not be ashamed. Go now. Good-by."
"Little White Birch, I give you this," said Jack, as he put in her handthe tail of the great gray wolf, beautifully adorned with silver braidand blue ribbands.
It was snowing hard. Jack and Solomon started toward a belt of timbereast of the log inn. Before they reached it, their clothes were whitewith snow--a fact which probably saved their lives. They were shot atfrom the edge of the bush. Solomon shouted to Jack to come on andwisely ran straight toward the spot from which the rifle flashes hadproceeded. In the edge of the woods, Jack shot an Indian with hispistol. The red man was loading. So they got through what appeared tobe a cordon around the house and cut into the bush.
"They won't foller us," said Solomon, as the two stopped presently toput on their snow-shoes.
"What makes you think so ?"
"They don't keer to see us lessen they're hid. We are the Son o' theThunder an' the Brother o' Death. It would hurt to see us. The secondour eyes drop on an Injun, he's got a hole in his guts an' they knowit. They'd ruther go an' set down with a jug o' rum."
"It was a low and devilish trick to bring fire-water into that camp,"said Jack.
"Guy Johnson is mean enough to steal acorns from a blind hog," Solomonanswered.
Suddenly they heard a loud whooping in the distance and looking backinto the valley they saw a great flare of light.
"They've put the torch to the tavern and will have a dance," saidSolomon. "We got out jest in time."
"I am afraid for the Little White Birch," said Jack.
"They'll let her alone. She is one of the wives of ol' Theandenaga.She will lead the Dutchman an' his family to the house o' the greatchief. She won't let 'em be hurt if she kin help it. She knowed theywas a'ter us."
"Why do they want to kill us?" Jack queried.
"'Cause they're goin' to fight with the British an' we shoot so damnwell they want to git us out o' the way an' do it sly an' withoutgittin' hurt. But fer the squaw, we'd be hoppin' eround in that 'ereloft like a pair o' rats. They'd 'a' sneaked the Dutchman an' hisfolks outdoors with tommyhawks over their heads and scattered greasean' gunpowder an' boughs on the floor, an' set 'er goin' an' me an' youasleep above the ladder. I reckon we'd had to do some climbin' an'they's no tellin' where we'd 'a' landed, which there ain't do doubt'bout that."
Solomon seemed to know his way by an instinct like that of a dog. Theywere in the deep woods, traveling by snow light without a trail. Jackfelt sure they were going wrong, but he said nothing. By and by therewas a glow in the sky ahead. The snow had ceased falling and theheavens were clear.
"Ye see we're goin' right," said Solomon. "The sun'll be up in half anhour, but afore we swing to the trail we better git a bite. Gulf Brookis down yender in the valley an' I'd kind o' like to taste of it."
They proceeded down a long, wooded slope and came presently to thebrook whose white floored aisle was walled with evergreen thicketsheavy with snow. Beneath its crystal vault they could hear the song ofthe water. It was a grateful sound for they were warm and thirsty.Near the point where they deposited their packs was a big beaver dam.
Solomon took his ax and teapot and started up stream.
"Want to git cl'ar 'bove," said he.
"Why?" Jack inquired.
"This 'ere is a beaver nest," said Solomon.
He returned in a moment with his pot full of beautiful clear water ofwhich they drank deeply.
"Ye see the beavers make a dam an' raise the water," Solomon explained."When it gits a good ice roof so thick the sun won't burn a hole in itafore spring, they tap the dam an' let the water out. Then they've gota purty house to live in with a floor o' clean water an' a glass roofan' plenty o' green popple sticks stored in the corners to feed on.They have stiddy weather down thar--no cold winds 'er deep snow tobother 'em. When the roof rots an' breaks in the sunlight an' slidesoff they patch up the dam with mud an' sticks an' they've got aswimmin' hole to play in."
They built a fire and spread their blankets on a bed of boughs and hadsome hot tea and jerked meat and slices of bread soaked in bacon fat.
"Ye see them Injuns is doomed," said Solomon. "Some on 'em has gotgood sense, but rum kind o' kills all argeyment. Rum is now the greatchief o' the red man. Rum an' Johnson 'll win 'em over. Sir Williamwas their Great White Father. They trusted him. Guy an' John have gothis name behind 'em. The right an' wrong o' the matter a
in't able togit under the Injun's hide. They'll go with the British an' burn, an'rob, an' kill. The settlers 'll give hot blood to their childern. TheInjun 'll be forever a brother to the snake. We an' our childern an'gran'childern 'll curse him an' meller his head. The League o' theIroquois 'll be scattered like dust in the wind, an' we'll wonder whereit has gone. But 'fore then, they's goin' to be great trouble. Thewhite settlers has got to give up their land an' move, 'er turn Tory,'er be tommy-hawked."
With a sense of failure, they slowly made their way back to Albany,riding the last half of it on the sled of a settler who was going tothe river city with a grist and a load of furs.