CHAPTER XVII.
A DAY OF HAPPENINGS.
"Abel! Abel Smith! Here I am. Right here, in our little Kitty's ownhouse. How'd you get along? Did the man buy?"
"Shucks!" groaned the pioneer, as these words reached him where hestood beside the Sun Maid, eager to hear what she could tell him ofthe lad Gaspar. "Shucks! I've had a right peaceful sort of day, me andold Dobbin, and I'd most forgot it couldn't last. Say, Kit, you looklike a girl could do a'most ary thing she tried to. Just put yourshoulder to the wheel, won't you, and shut the power off Mercy'stongue. Tell her 'tain't the fashion for women to talk much or loud,not in big settlements like this. She's death on the fashion, Mercyis. Why, that last gown of hers, cut out a piece of calico a neighborbrought from the East--you'd ought to see it. She got hold apicture-book, land knows when or where, and copied one the pictures.Waist clean up to her neck, it's so short, and sleeves big enough tomake me a suit of clothes. Fact! Wait till you see it. She's a sight,I tell you. But so long 's she thinks it's a touch beyond, why she'shappy. But don't let her talk so much. 'Tain't proper; not insettlements."
The Sun Maid set her head on one side and regarded her old friendcritically; then frankly, if laughingly, remarked:
"Abel, you dear, you can beat Mercy talking, by a great length. It'sfunny to hear you blaming her for the very thing you do. But I likeit. You can't guess how I like it, and how it brings back my childishdays in the forest. Now come in and get something to eat. Then we canhave another talk."
"I ain't hungry. I had some doughnuts in my saddle-bags, and I munchedthem along the road. Say, Kit. Don't tell Mercy; but I didn't try tosell. Just put the question once, so to satisfy her when she asked. Wehain't no need. She's got a lot of money in a buckskin bag tied roundher waist. The land's all right. It's a good investment. I'll let itstand. This country is bound to grow. Some day it will be worth apower, and then I'll sell out, if I'm livin'; and if I ain't, you can.One of the reasons I came was to fix things up for you. I always meantto make you my legatee. We've no kith nor kin nigh enough to worryabout, Mercy an' me; an' I 'low she'd be agreeable. So we'll let theland lie. Oh, bosh! There she is, calling again. May as well go in forshe won't stop till we do."
After all, there was real pleasure in the faces of both husband andwife at their reunion, short though their separation had been, andbitter though their words sounded to a stranger; and, already, therewas a personal pride in Mercy's tones as she exhibited the house overwhich the Sun Maid presided, and explained the details--supplied byher own imagination--of its purposes.
"But about Gaspar, Mercy. Has she told you anything about him yet? I'm'lowing to have him help me keep tavern if he's grown up as capable ashe promised when he was a little shaver."
"No. She hain't said a word. Fact is, I hain't asked. We've been toobusy with other things. Likely he's round somewheres. Maybe offhunting with them lazy soldiers. Shame, I think. The Governmentkeepin' 'em just to loaf away their time."
"Hmm! What on earth else could they do with it? I met a man, comingalong, said there'd been a right sharp lot of wolves prowlin' thiswinter an' spring. They're gettin' most too neighborly for comfort forthe settlers across the prairies, so the military are trying to clearthem out. That's not a bad idee. But don't it beat all! That littlesissy, that used to have to stand on a three-legged stool to turn thestirabout, grown like she has? I never saw a finer woman, never; andher hair's the same dazzlin' kind it always was. I 'low I'm proud ofher, and no mistake. Hello! What's yonder? An Indian, on horseback,a-stoppin' to this place! What's he after? His face is painted black,too. There's Sunny Maid going out to talk with him, and Wahneeny, too.Must be somethin' up."
"There's always somethin' up, where there's an Indian. I hate 'em, an'they know it."
"I guess they do, ma. Wahneeny, for instance, and--Shucks! That long,lanky, copper-face out back there, settin' flat on the ground, tryingto pitch jack-knives with a lot of other boys, white ones; he's thechap that hung around our place so much--the chicken-stealer. I'mgoing to speak to him."
"And I'm going to get him took up, just as soon as the Captain getsback, for setting our house afire. It wouldn't have happened if I'dbeen home; but you never could be trusted to look after things."
Abel thought it time to change the subject, and retreated, whileMercy's attention became riveted upon the group before the house. Thefaces of all three were very grave, and Wahneenah, who had come acrossto nurse a sick child, paid no heed to its fretful calls for her. TheIndian horseman tarried but a brief time, then wheeled about and rodewestward over the prairie, avoiding the regular road and the mudwhere the Smiths had suffered such annoyance.
Wahneenah returned to her charge, and the Sun Maid disappeared in thedirection of the Fort. Before Mercy could decide whether to follow ornot, the girl reappeared, and her old friend viewed her withamazement. She had mounted the Snowbird, which looked no older thanwhen Mercy had watched her gallop away across the prairie, and hadslung the famous White Bow upon her saddle horn. About her floatinghair she had wound a fillet of white beads and feathers, and fastenedthe White Necklace of Lahnowenah, the Giver, around her fair throat.She sat her horse as only one trained to the saddle from infancy couldhave done, and her commanding figure seemed perfect in every outline.
"To the land's sake! Ain't she splendid! I never saw such a sight.Never. Never. Abel! Abel! A-b-e-l!!"
"Yes, yes; what? Mercy, Mercy Smith, hold your tongue! Don't you knowfolks can't bawl in a settlement as they do in the backwoods? Whatails you? I'm coming as fast as a man in reason can. Hey? Kitty? Well,why didn't you say so? Where? Out front? My--land! Well, well, well!It ain't--it can't be--it is! Well, Kitty girl, you beat the Dutch!"
The young horsewoman rode up to the front door of her house, andpaused to let her old friends admire her to their satisfaction. Buttheir admiration aroused neither surprise nor vanity in her simple,straightforward mind. Years before, the old clergyman had said to her,upon their first meeting, that the Lord had been very good to her ingiving her a beauty so remarkable and impressive; and under his wiseinstruction she had accepted the fact as she did all the others of herlife. Only she had striven to keep her soul always worthy of theglorious form in which it was housed and to use all her gifts andgraces for good. So she stood a while, letting the honest coupleinspect and comment, and finally answering Abel's curiosity, in honestmodesty.
"Why am I so dressed up? Because I have a mission to perform, and Ineed to make myself as beautiful as possible."
"Kit--ty Bris--coe! I've read in my red Bible that 'favor is deceitfuland beauty is vain.' I'm amazed at you. Livin' with a minister, too.Well, _he_ can't preach to _me_. I'd despise to set under him."
Abel's eyes twinkled, but the gravity of the Sun Maid's face did notlessen. She explained gently, yet with unshaken decision, that herself-adornment was right, and gave her reasons.
"You will remember, dears, that I am a 'Daughter of thePottawatomies.' They believe that I have supernatural gifts, and thatI am a spirit living in a human form."
"And you let 'em, Kit, you let 'em?"
"I couldn't prevent it if I tried. And I do not try. That idea oftheirs is far too powerful a factor for good. Even Wahneenah, whoknows better and is to me as a real mother, even she treats me alittle more deferentially when I attire myself like this."
"Put on your war paint, eh?"
"No, indeed: my peace paint," laughed the girl. "The messenger you sawtalking with Wahneenah and me is from an encampment a dozen miles orso to the westward. There are about five hundred Indians in the camp,and they are getting restless. They are always restless, it seems tome," and she sighed profoundly. "It is such a problem, isn't it? Theythink they have right on their side, and the whites think _they_ have;and there is so much that is good, so much that is evil, on both.Well, the red people are planning treachery. The brave you saw is areal friend to the pale-faces, and one of my closest confidants. Hecame to warn me. His tribe, or the mixed tribes in the camp, aregetting ready fo
r an attack upon us, or some other near-by settlement.I must go out and stop it,--find out their grievance and right it if Ican. If not--Well, I must make peace. I may be gone for several days,and I may be back before morning. You must make yourselves comfortablesomewhere. Ask Doctor Littlejohn. If he is too absorbed in hisstudies, then talk with One, his eldest son. He is a fine fellow, andknows everything about this village. Good-by."
"But, child alive! You ain't going alone, single-handed, to face fivehundred bloody Indians! You must be crazy!"
"Oh, no, I'm not. It is all right. I am not afraid. There isn't anIndian living who would harm a hair of my head, if he knew me; andalmost all in Illinois do know me, either by sight or reputation. I amvery happy with them and shall have a pleasant visit; that is, after Ihave dissuaded them from this proposed attack."
"Kit, you couldn't do it. 'Tain't in nature. A young girl, alone,pretty as you are--You _sha'n't_ do it,--not with my consent; notwhile I'm alive and can set a horse or handle a gun. No, sirree. Ifyou go, I go, and that's the long and short of it."
"No, dear Father Abel; you must not go; indeed you must not. It wouldruin everything. It makes me very sad to have these constant broilsand ill-feelings coming up between my white-faced and red-facedfriends; yet the Lord permits it, and I try to be patient. But I tellyou again, and you must believe it, that I am as safe out yonder inthat camp of savages as I am here, this minute, with you. I am the SunMaid, the Unafraid, the Daughter of Peace, the Snowflake. They have asmany names for me as I am years old, I fancy. Each name means somenoble thing they think they see in my character, and so I try tolive up to it. It's hard work, though, because I'm--well, I'm soquick-tempered and full of faults. But I suppose if God didn't mean meto do this work, be a sort of peacemaker, He wouldn't have made mejust as I am or put me in just this place. That's what the Doctorsays, and so I do the best I can. After all, it's a great honor, Ithink, to be let to serve people in this way, and so--Good-by,good-by!"
The Snowbird sprang forward at a word and, by experience trained toshun the sloughs and mud-holes, skimmed lightly across the prairie andout of sight. The Smiths stood and watched its disappearance, and theerect white figure upon its back, till both became a speck in thedistance. Then, completely dumfounded by the incident, Abel sat downnear the door-step to reflect upon it, while the more energetic Mercydeparted for the Fort, declaring:
"I'll see what that all means, or I'll never say another word's longas I live! The idee! _Men_--folks calling themselves _men_--andwearing government breeches, as I suppose they do, letting a girllike that go to destruction without a soul to stop her! But, my land!she was a sight to see, and no mistake!"
Meanwhile that was happening down at the little wharf which set alltongues a-chatter and fascinated all eyes.
"A fleet is coming in! A regular fleet of schooners, from the northand the upper lakes!"
Those who had not gone hunting crowded to the shore, and even thewomen caught their babies up and followed the men, Abel among theothers, roused from his anxious brooding over the Sun Maid's daringand catching the excitement.
"Shucks! Something must be up down that direction. Beats all. HereI've been only part of a day, and more things have gone on than wouldat our clearing in a month of Sundays. I--I'm all of a fluster to kindof keep my head level an' my judgment cool. 'Twouldn't never do to leton to ma how stirred up I be. Dear me! Seems as if I wouldn't neverget there. I do hope they'll wait till I do."
After all, it was the quietest and drowsiest of little hamlets,dropped down in the mud beside a great waterway; and the "fleet,"which had roused so much interest, was but a modest one of ahalf-dozen small schooners, laden with furs and peltries and manned bythe smallest of crews.
However, to Abel, and to many another, it was a memorable event; andhe made a pause at the Fort, which in itself was an object of greatinterest to him, to inform Mercy of the spectacle she was losing.
"Come on, ma! It's a regular show down there. Real sailors andships--we hain't seen the like since we left the East and the coast ofold Massachusetts."
"Ships? My heart! I never expected to look upon another. Just to thinkit!"
The foremost vessel came to shore and was made fast; and there uponits deck stood a tall, dark-bearded man, who appeared what hewas--the commander of the fleet; and he gave his orders in a clear,ringing voice that was instantly obeyed. His manner was grave, evenmelancholy; and his interest in the safe landing seemed greater thanin any person among the expectant groups. He had tossed his hat asideand waited bareheaded in the sunshine till all was ready, when hestepped quietly ashore.
Then, indeed, he cast an inquiring glance around, in the possibility,though not probability, of meeting a familiar face. All at once, hisdark eyes brightened and his bearing lost its indifference. Pushinghis way rapidly through the crowd, he approached Abel and Mercy andextended his hands in greeting.
"Hail, old friends! Well met!"
"Hey? What? Ruther think you've got the better of me, stranger," saidthe pioneer, awkwardly extending his own hardened palm.
"Probably the years since we met have made a greater change in me thanin you. You both look exactly as you did that last day I saw you atthe harvesting."
"Hey? Which? When? I can't place you, no how. I ain't acquainted withary sailor, so far forth as I remember."
"But Gaspar, Father Abel? Surely, you and Mercy remember Gaspar Keith,whom you sheltered for so many years, and who treated you so badly atthe end?"
"Glory! It ain't! My soul, my soul! Why, Gaspar--_Gaspar!_ If it'syou, I'm an old man. Why, you was only a stripling, and now----"
"Now, I'm a man, too. That's all. We all have to grow up and mature. Ifeel older than you look. And Mercy, the years have certainly used youwell. It is good, indeed, to see your faces here, where I looked forstrangers only."
"Them's us, lad. Them's us. _We're_ the strangers in these parts. Juststruck Chicago this very day. Got stuck in the mud, and had to befished out like a couple of clams. And who do you think done thefishing? Though, if you hadn't spoke that odd way just now, I'd havethought you would have known first off. Who do you suppose?"
"Oh, he'll never guess. A man is always so slow," interrupted Mercy,eagerly. "Well, 'twas nobody but our own little Kit! The Sun Maid, andlooking more like a child of the sunshine even than when you run offwith her so long ago."
"The--Sun--Maid! _Kit-ty, my Kitty?_"
Gaspar's face had paled at the mention of the Sun Maid to such agrayness beneath its brown that Mercy reached her hand to stay himfrom falling; but at his second question her womanly intuition toldher something of the truth.
"Yes, Gaspar, boy. Your Kitty, and ours. We hadn't seen her tillto-day, neither; not since that harvestin'. But the longing got toostrong and, when we was burnt out, we came straight for her. Didn'tyou know she was here yet? Or didn't you know she was still alive?"
"No. No, I didn't. That very next winter after I went away--and thatwas the next day after we came here together--an Indian passed where Iwas hunting with my master and told me she had died. He was one we hadknown at Muck-otey-pokee--the White Pelican. He said a scourge ofsmallpox had swept the Fort and this settlement and that my littlemaid had passed out of the world forever. But you tell me--_she isalive_? After all these years of sorrow for her, she is still alive?I--it is hard to believe it."
Mercy laid her hand upon the strong shoulder that now trembled inexcitement.
"There, there, son; take it quiet. Yes, she's alive, and the mostbeautiful woman the good Lord ever made. Never, even in the East,where girls had time to grow good-looking, was there ever anybody likeher. I ain't used to it myself, yet. I can't realize it. She's thatwell growed, and eddicated, and masterful. Why, child, the wholecommunity looks up to her as if she were a sort of queen. I've foundthat out in just the few hours I've been here, and from just the fewI've met. Even Wahneeny--she's here, too; has been most all the time.The Black Partridge, Indian chief, he that was her brother, that tookcare of you two childre
n when the massacre was, he didn't expect she'dever come again; but still, it appears, just on the chance of it, herode off up country somewhere, and he happened to strike her trail,and that Osceolo's--the scamp--that had run off with Kitty's whitehorse, and fetched 'em all back. The women in the Fort was tellin' methe whole story just now. I hain't got a word out of Wahneeny, yet.She's as close-mouthed as she ever was; but there's more to hear thanyou could hark to in a day's ride, and--Where you going, Gaspar?"
"To find my Kitty."
"Well, you needn't. And I don't know as she's any more yours than sheis ours, seein' we really had the credit of raisin' her. For she'stook her life in her hand, and has gone alone, without ary man toprotect her, out across the prairie to face five hunderd Indians onthe war-path, and--Hold on! What you up to?"
The sailor, or hunter, whichever he might be, had started along thefootpath to the Fort, and halted, half angrily, at this interruption.
"Well? What? I'll see you by and by. I must find Kitty!"
"Right you are, lad. Find her, and fetch her back. And, say! Mercysays your own old Tempest horse is in the stable at the Fort; that itnow belongs to the Sun Maid, and she's the only one who ever rides it.The Captain gave it to her because she grieved so about you. Iwouldn't wonder if he'd travel nigh as fast as he used--when he runaway before. I never saw the beat of you two young ones! As fast as abody catches up to you, off you run!"
Even amid the anxiety now renewed in Abel's mind regarding Kitty, thehumorous side of the situation appealed to him; but there was noanswering smile on Gaspar's face; only an anxiety and yearning beyondthe comprehension of either of these honest, simple souls.
"Well, go on, then. Run your beatingest, in a bee line, due west.That's the way she took, and that's the trail you'll find her on, ifso be you find her at all."
Those at the Fort looked, wondered, but did not object, as this dark_voyageur_ strode straight into the stables and to a box stall whereTempest enjoyed a life of pampered indolence. They realized that thiswas no stranger, but one to whom all things were familiar--even theanimal which answered so promptly to the cry:
"Tempest, old fellow!"
It was a voice he had never forgotten. The black gelding's handsomehead tossed in a thrill of delight, and the answering neigh to thatlove call was good to hear. In a moment Gaspar had found a saddle,slipped it into place, and, scarcely waiting to tighten its girth, hadleaped upon the animal's back.
"Forward, Tempest! Be true to your name!"
Those who saw the rush of the gallant creature through the open gatesof the stockade acknowledged that he would be.