CHAPTER XII.
AFTER FOUR YEARS.
Despite a really warm and hospitable heart, it was not pleasant forMercy Smith to find that her submissive husband had taken upon himselfto keep open house in this fashion for all who chose to call; and, asshe often expressed it, the settler's wife "hated an Indian on sight."
Upon her unexpected entrance, there had ensued a brief silence; thenthe two tongues which were accustomed to wag so nimbly took up theirfamiliar task and a battle of words followed. Its climax came rathersuddenly, and was not anticipated by the housewife who declared withgreat decision:
"I say the children may stay for a spell, till we can find a way todispose of 'em. The boy's big enough to earn his keep, if he ain't toolazy. Male creatur's mostly are. An' the girl's no great harm as Isee, 'nless she's too pretty to be wholesome. But that red-face goes,or I do. There ain't no room in this cabin for me an' a squaw to onetime. You can take your druther. She goes or I do"; and she glancedwith animosity toward Wahneenah, who, when hearing the fresh voiceadded to the other three, had come promptly upon Mercy's return totake her stand just within the entrance. There she had remained eversince, silent, watchful, and quite as full of distrust concerningMercy as Mercy could possibly have been toward herself.
"Well," said Abel, slowly, and there was a new note in his voice whicharoused and riveted his wife's attention. "Well--you hear me. I don'toften claim to be boss, but when I do I mean it. Them children canstay here just as long as they will. For all their lives, an' I'll beglad of it. The Lord has denied us any little shavers of our own, an'maybe just because in His providence He was plannin' to send them twoorphans here for us to tend. As for the squaw, she's proved her soul'swhite, if her skin is red, an' she stays or goes, just as sheelects--ary one. That's all. Now, you'd better see about fixing 'em aplace to sleep."
Because she was too astonished to do otherwise, Mercy complied. AndWahneenah wisely relieved her unwilling hostess of any troubleconcerning herself. She followed Abel to the barn, to attend him uponhis belated "chores," and to beg the use of some coarse blankets whichshe had found stored there. Until she could secure properly dressedskins or bark, these would serve her purpose well enough for thelittle tepee she meant to pitch close to the house which sheltered herchildren.
"For I must leave them under her roof while the winter lasts. They arenot of my race, and cannot endure the cold. But I will work just somuch as will pay for their keep and my own. They shall be beholden tothe white woman for naught but their shelter. For that, too, I willmake restitution in the days to come."
"Pshaw, Wahneeny! I wouldn't mind a bit of a sharp tongue, if I wasyou. Ma don't mean no hurt. She's used to bein' boss, that's all; an'she will be the first to be glad she's got another female to consortwith. I wouldn't lay up no grudge. I wouldn't."
But the matter settled itself as the Indian suggested. It was pain andtorment to her to hear Mercy alternately petting and correcting herdarlings, yet for their sakes she endured that much and more. She evenfailed to resent the fact that, after a short residence at the farm,the Smiths both began to refer to her as "our hired girl, that'sworkin' for her keep an' the childern's."
It did not matter to her now. Nothing mattered so long as she wasstill within sight and sound of her Sun Maid's beauty and laughter;and by the time spring came she had procured the needful skins toconstruct the wigwam she desired. Her skill in nursing, that had beenwell known among her own people, she now made a means of sustainingher independence. Such aid as she could render was indeed difficult tobe obtained by the isolated dwellers in that wilderness; and havingnursed Abel through a siege of inflammatory rheumatism, as he hadnever been cared for before, he sounded her praises far and near, andto all of the chance passers-by.
For her service among those who could pay she charged a very moderatewage, but it sufficed; and, for the sake of pleasing her children, sheadopted a dress very like that worn by all the women of the frontier.Kitty, also, had soon been clothed "like a Christian" by Mercy'sdecision; but Wahneenah still carefully preserved the dainty Indiancostume Katasha had given the child; along with the sacred White Bowand the priceless Necklace.
As for the three horses on which she and the two children had stolenaway from their enemies in the cave of refuge, Abel had long agodecided that they were but kittle cattle, unfitted for the sober workof life which his own oxen and old nag Dobbin performed so well. Sothey were left in idleness, to graze where they pleased, and werelittle used except by their owners for a rare ride afield. TheChestnut, however, carried Wahneenah to and fro upon her nursingtrips; for, unless the case were too urgent to be left, she alwaysreturned at nightfall to her own lodge and the nearness of her SunMaid.
Thus four uneventful years passed away, and it had come to the time ofthe wheat harvest.
"And it's to be the biggest, grandest frolic ever was in this part ofthe country," declared the settler, proudly.
Whereupon, days before, Mercy began to brew and bake, and evenWahneenah condescended to assist in the household labor. But she didthis that she might if possible lighten that of her Sun Maid, who hadnow grown to a "real good-sized girl an' just as smart as chainlightning."
This was Abel's description. Mercy's would have been:
"Kitty's well enough. But she hates to sew her seam like she hatespoison. She'd ruther be makin' posies an' animals out my nice cleanfresh-churned butter than learn cookin'. But she's good-tempered.Never flies out at all, like Gaspar, 'cept I lose patience withWahneeny. Then, look sharp!"
"Well, I tell you that out in this country a harvestin' is a biginstitution!" cried Abel to Gaspar as, early on the morning of theeventful day, they were making all things ready for the accommodationof the people who would flock to the Smith farm to assist in the laborand participate in the fun. "If there's some things we miss here, wehave some that can't be matched out East. Every white settler's everyother settler's neighbor, even though there's miles betwixt theirclearin's. All hands helpin' so makes light work of raisin' cabins orbarns, sowin', reapin', or clearin'. I--I declare I feel as excited asa boy. But you don't seem to. You're gettin' a great lad now, Gaspar,an' one these days I'll be thinkin' of payin' you some wages. If so beI can afford it, an'----"
"And Mercy will let you!"
"Hi, diddle diddle! What's struck you crosswise, sonny?"
"I'm tired of working so hard for other people. I want a chance to dosomething for myself. I'm not ungrateful; don't think it. But see. Iam already taller than you and I can do as much work in a day. Whereis the justice, then, of my labor going for naught?"
"Why, Gaspar. Why, why, why!" exclaimed the pioneer, too astonished tosay more.
Gaspar went on with his task of clearing the barn floor and arrangingtying places for the visitors' teams; but his dark face was cloudedand anxious, showing little of the anticipation which Abel's did.
"I'm going to ask you, Father Abel, to let me try for a job somewhereelse; that is, if you can't really pay me anything, as your wifedeclares. Then, by and by, when I can earn enough to get ahead alittle, I'd pay you back for all you've spent on us three."
Abel's face had fallen, and he now looked as if he might be expectingsome dire disaster rather than a frolic. But it brightened presently.
"Yes, Gaspar; I know you're big, and well-growed. But you're youngyet--dreadful young----"
"I'm near fifteen."
"Well, you won't be out your time till you're twenty-one."
"What 'time'?" asked the lad, angrily, though he knew the answer.
"Hmm. Of course, there wasn't no regular papers drawed, but it wasunderstood; it was always understood between ma and me that if we tookyou all in, and did for you while you was growin' up, your servicebelonged to us. Same's if you'd been bound by the authorities."
"Get over there, Dobbin!"
"Pshaw! You must be real tried in your mind to hit a four-footedcreatur' like that. I hain't never noticed that you was short-spokewith the stock--not before this morning. I wish you
wouldn't get outof sorts to-day, boy! I--well, there's things afoot 'at I think you'dlike to take a share in. There. That'll do. Now, just turn anotheredge on them reapin' knives, an' see that there's plenty o' water inthe troughs, an' feed them fattin' pigs in the pen, an'--Shucks! He'soff already. I wonder what's took him so short! I wonder if he's gotwind of anything out the common!"
The latter part of Abel's words were spoken to himself, for Gaspar hadtaken his knives to the grindstone in the yard and was now calling forKitty to turn the stone for him, while he should hold the bladesagainst its surface.
But it was Mercy who answered his summons, appearing in the doorwaywith her sleeves rolled up, her apron floured, and her round faceaglow with haste and excitement.
"Well? well, Gaspar Keith? What you want of Kit?"
"To help me."
"Help yourself. I can't spare her."
"Then I can't grind the knives. That's all." He tossed them down towait her pleasure, and Mercy groaned.
"If I ain't the worst bestead woman in the world! Here's all creationcoming to be fed, an' no help but a little girl like Kit an' a grumpyold squaw 't don't know enough to 'preciate her privileges. Hey!Gaspar! Call Abel in to breakfast. An' after that maybe sissy can turnthe stun. Here 'tis goin' on six o'clock, if it's a minute, an' somethe folks'll be pokin' over here by seven, sure!"
Then Mercy retreated within doors and directed the Sun Maid to:
"Fly 'round right smart now an' set the house to one side. Whisk themflapjacks over quicker 'an that, then they'll not splish-splash allover the griddle. When I was a little girl nine years old I could frycakes as round as an apple. No reason why you shouldn't, too, if youput your mind to it."
The Sun Maid laughed. No amount of fret or labor had ever yet hadpower to dim the brightness of her nature. Was it the Sun Maid,though? One had to look twice to see. For this tall, slender girl nowwore her glorious hair in a braid, and her frock was of coarse bluehomespun.
Her feet were bare, and her plump shoulders bowed a little because ofthe heavy burdens which her "mother Mercy" saw fit to put upon them.
"But I guess I don't want to put my mind to it. I can't see anythingpretty in 'jacks which are to be eaten right up. Only I like to havethem taste right for the folks. That's all."
Abel and Gaspar came in, and Kitty placed a plate of steaming cakesbefore them. Mercy hurried to the big churn outside the door and beganto work the dasher up and down as if she hadn't an ounce of butter inher dairy and must needs prepare this lot for the festival. As shechurned she kept up a running fire of directions to the householdwithin, finally suggesting, in a burst of liberality due to theoccasion:
"You can fry what flapjacks you want for yourself, Wahneeny. An' Idon't know as I care if you have a little syrup on 'em to-day--justfor once, so to speak."
However, Wahneenah disdained even the cakes, and the syrup-jug wasdeposited in its place with undiminished contents.
"Be you all through, then? Well, Kit, fly 'round. Clear the table likelightning, an' fetch that butter bowl out the spring, an' see if thesalt's all poun' an' sifted; an' open the draw's an' lay out myclothes, an'--Dear me! Does seem 's if I should lose my senses with somuch to do an' no decent help, only----"
"Hold on, Mercy! What's the use of rushin' through life 's if you wastryin' to break your neck?"
"Rushin'! With all that's comin' here to-day!"
"Well, let 'em come. We'll be glad to see 'em. Nobody gladder 'n youyourself. But you fair take my breath away with your everlastin'hurry-skurry, clitter-clatter. Don't give a man a chance to even kisshis little girl good-mornin'. Do you know that, Sunny Maid? Hain'tsaid a word to your old Daddy yet!"
The child ran to him and fondly flung her arms as far as they wouldgo around the settler's broad shoulders. It was evident that there waslove and sympathy between these two, though they were to be allowedshort space "for foolin'" that day, and Mercy's call again interruptedthem:
"Come and take this butter down to the brook, Kit, an' wash it allclean, an' salt it just right--here 'tis measured off--an' make haste.I do believe you'd ruther stand there lovin' your old Abel--homelycreatur'!--than helpin' me. Yet, when I was a little girl your age, Icould work the butter over fit to beat the queen. Upon my word, I dodeclare I see a wagon movin' 'crost the prairie this very minute! Oh!what shall I do if I ain't ready when they get here!"
Catching at last something of the pleasurable excitement about her,Kitty lifted the heavy butter-tray and started for the stream. Thebutter was just fine and firm enough to tempt her fingers into a bitof modelling, such as she had picked up for herself; and very speedilyshe had arranged a row of miniature fruits and acorns, and was justattempting to copy a flower which grew by the bank when Wahneenah'svoice, close at hand, warned her:
"Come, Girl-Child. The white mistress is in haste this morning. It isbetter to carry back the butter in a lump than to make even suchpretty things and risk a scolding."
"But father Abel would like them for his company. He is very fond ofmy fancy 'pats'."
"But not to-day. Besides, if there is time for idleness, I want you topass it here with me, in my own wigwam."
The Sun Maid looked up. "Shall you not be at the feasting, dear OtherMother? You have many friends among those who are coming."
"Friendship is proved by too sharp a test sometimes. The way of theworld is to follow the crowd. If a person falls into disfavor withone, all the rest begin to pick flaws. More than that: the temptationof money ruins even noble natures."
"Why, Wahneenah! You sound as if you were talking riddles. Who istempted by money? and which way does the 'crowd' you mean go? I don'tunderstand you at all."
"May the Great Spirit be praised that it is so. May He long preserveto you your innocent and loyal heart."
With these words, the Indian woman stooped and laid her hand upon thechild's head; then slowly entered her lodge and let its curtains fallbehind her. There was an unusual sternness about her demeanor whichimpressed Kitty greatly; so that it was with a very sober face thatshe herself gathered up her burdens and returned to the cabin.
Yet on the short way thither she met Gaspar, who beckoned to her frombehind the shelter of a haystack, motioning silence.
"But you mustn't keep me, Gaspar boy. Mother Mercy is terribly hurriedthis morning, and now, for some reason, Other Mother has stoppedhelping and has gone home to the tepee. If I don't work, it will aboutcrush her down, Mercy says."
"Hang Mercy! There. I don't mean that. I wish you wouldn't always lookso scared when I get mad. I am mad to-day, Kit. Mad clear through.I've got to be around amongst folks, too, for a while; but the firstminute you get, you come to that pile of logs near Wahneenah's place,and I'll have something to tell you."
"No you won't! No you won't! I know it already. I heard father Abeltalking. There is to be a horse race, after the harvesting and thesupper are over. There is a new man, or family, moved into theneighborhood and he is a horse trader. I heard all about it, sir!"
"You heard that? Did you hear anything else? About Wahneenah andmoney?"
"Only what she told me herself"; repeating the Indian woman's words.
"Then she knows, poor thing!" cried Gaspar, indignantly.