The Sun Maid: A Story of Fort Dearborn

  CHAPTER II.

  TWO FOR BREAKFAST.

  The dead son of the Woman-Who-Mourns had never been disobedient, andsmall Kitty Briscoe had never obeyed anybody. She had laughed andfrolicked her way through all rules and over all obstacles with amerry indifference that would have been insolent had it been lessinnocent and charming. During her short life the orphan had heard novoice but was full of tenderness, toward her at least; and everybabyish misdemeanor had been pardoned almost before it was committed,by reason of her exceeding loveliness and overflowing affection. Shehad so loved all that she feared none, and not one of the kind mothersat the Fort had felt it her especial duty to discipline so sweet andfearless a nature. By and by, when she grew older, why, of course, thechild must come under the yoke, like other children of that sterngeneration; but for the present, what was she but an ignorant baby, amotherless babe at that?

  So that, on that first morning of their life together, it gave thelatest foster-mother a very decided shock when she directed:

  "Take your bowl of suppawn and milk, and eat it here by the fire,Girl-Child," to have the other reply, with equal decision:

  "Kitty will take it to the out-doors."

  "How? The papoose must eat her breakfast here, as I command."

  "But Kitty must take it out the doors. What will the pigeons say? Comewith me, Other Mother."

  Quite to her own astonishment, the proud daughter of a chief complied.Superstition had suggested to her that this white-robed littlecreature, with her trustful eyes and her wonderful hair, who seemedrather to float over the space to the threshold than to tread upon theearthen floor, was the re-embodied spirit of her own lost child comeback to comfort her sorrow and to be a power for good in her tribe.

  But if the Sun Maid were a spirit, she had many earthly qualities; andwith a truly human carelessness she had no sooner stepped beyond thetent flap than she let fall her heavy bowl and spilled her breakfast.For there stood her last night's rescuer, his arms full of flowers.

  "Oh, the posies! the posies! Nice Feather-man did bring them."

  "Ugh! Black Partridge, the Truth-Teller. I have come to take myleave. Also to ask you, my sister, shall I carry away the Sun Maid toher own people? Or shall she abide with you?"

  "Take her away, my brother? Do you not guess, then, who she is?"

  "Why should I guess when I know. I saw her father die, and I stoodbeside her mother's grave. The white papoose has neither tribe norkinsman."

  "There for once the Truth-Teller speaks unwisely. The Sun Maid, whomyou found asleep on the path, is my own flesh and blood."

  In surprise Black Partridge stared at the woman, whose face glowedwith delight. Then he reflected that it would be as well to leave herundisturbed in her strange notion. The helpless little one would bethe better cared for, under such circumstances, and the time mightspeedily come when she would need all the protection possible foranybody to give.

  "It is well--as you believe; yet then you are no longer theWoman-Who-Mourns, but again Wahneenah, the Happy."

  For a moment they silently regarded the child who had thrown herselfface downward upon the great heap of orchids that Black Partridge hadbrought, and which he had risen very early to gather. They were of thesame sort that the little one had grieved over on the night before,only much larger and fairer, and of far greater number. Talking tothe blossoms and caressing them as if they were human playmates, theSun Maid forgot that she was hungry, until Wahneenah had brought asecond bowl of porridge and, gently lifting her charge to a place uponthe mat, had bidden her eat.

  "Oh, yes! My breakfast. I did forget it, didn't I? Oh, the darlingposies! Oh! the pretty Feather-man, that couldn't tell a naughtystory. I know 'bout him. We all know 'bout him to our Fort. My Captainsays he is the bestest Feather-man in all the--everywhere."

  "Ugh! Ugh!"

  The low grunt of assent seemed to come from every side the big wigwam.At all times there were many idle Indians at Muck-otey-pokee, but oflate their number had been largely increased by bands of visitingPottawatomies. These had come to tarry with their tribesmen in thevillage till the distribution of goods should be made from FortDearborn, as had been ordered by General Hull; or until the hour wasripe for their treacherous assault upon the little garrison.

  The Man-Who-Kills was in the very centre of the group which hadsquatted in a semi-circle as near as it dared before the tepee oftheir chief's sister, and the low grunts came from this band ofspectators.

  "We will sit and watch. So will we learn what the Black Partridgemeans," and when Spotted Rabbit so advised his brothers, they hadcome in the darkness and arranged themselves as has been described.

  The chief had found them there when, before dawn, he came with hisoffering of flowers, and Wahneenah had seen them when she raised thecurtain of her tent and looked out to learn what manner of day wascoming. But neither had noticed them any more than they did the birdsrustling in the cottonwood beside the wigwam, or the wild creaturesskurrying across the path for their early drink at the stream below.

  Neither had the Sun Maid paid them any attention, for she had alwaysbeen accustomed to meeting the savages both at the Fort and on herrides abroad with any of her garrison friends; so she deliberatelysipped her breakfast, pausing now and then to arrange the pouch-likepetals of some favored blossoms and to converse with them in herfantastic fashion, quite believing that they heard and understood.

  "Did the nice Feather-man bring you all softly, little posies? Aren'tyou glad you've come to live with Kitty? Other Mother will give youall some breakfast, too, of coldest water in the brook. Then you willsit up straight and hold your heads high. That's the way the childrendo when my Captain takes the book with the green cover and makes themspell things out of it. Oscar doesn't like the green book. It makeshim wriggle his nose--so; but Margaret is as fond of it as I am ofyou. Oh, dear! Some day, all my mothers say, I, too, will have to sitand look on the printing and spell words. I can, though, even now.Listen, posies. D-o-g--that's--that's--I guess it's 'cat.' Isn't it,posies? But you don't have to spell things, do you? I needn't either.Not to-day, and maybe not to-morrow day. Because, you see, I runnedaway. Oh, how I did run! So fast, so far, before I found your littlesisters, posies, dear. Then I guess I went to sleep, without eversaying my 'Now I lay me,' and the black Feather-man came, and--that'sall."

  Wahneenah had gone back to her household duties, for she had manythings on hand that day. Not the least, to make her neglected tepee abrighter, fitter home for this stray sunbeam which the Great Spirithad sent to her out of the sky, and into which He had breathed thesoul of her lost one. Indistinctly, she heard the murmuring of thebabyish voice at the threshold and occasionally caught some of thewords it uttered. These served but to establish her in her belief thatthe child had more than mortal senses; else how should she fancy thatthe blossoms would hear and understand her prattle?

  "Listen. She talks to the weeds as the white men talk to us. She is awitch," said the Man-Who-Kills to his neighbor in the circle, theWhite Pelican.

  "She is only a child of the pale-faces. The Black Partridge has sether among us to move our hearts to pity."

  "The White Pelican was ever a coward," snorted the Man-Who-Kills.

  But the younger warrior merely turned his head and smiledcontemptuously. Then he critically scrutinized the ill-proportionedfigure of the ugly-tempered brave. The fellow's crooked back,abnormally long arms and short legs were an anomaly in that race ofstalwart Indians, and the soul of the savage corresponded to hisoutward development. For his very name had been given him in derision;because, though he always threatened and always sneaked after hisprey, he had never been known to slay an enemy in open combat.

  "That is as the tomahawks prove. The scalps hang close on the pole ofmy wigwam," finally remarked the Pelican.

  "Ugh! But there was never such a scalp as that of the papoose yonder.It shall hang above all others in _my_ tepee. I have said it."

  "Having said it, you may unsay it. That is no human fleece
upon thatsmall head. She is sacred."

  "How? Is the White Pelican a man of dreams?"

  The elder brave also used a tone of contempt, though not with markedsuccess. His thought reverted to the night before, when the chief hadstood beside the council fire holding the sleeping child in his arms.Her wonderful yellow hair, fine as spun cobwebs and almost as light,had blown over the breast of Black Partridge like a cloud, and it hadglistened and shimmered in the firelight as if possessed of restlesslife. The little figure was clothed in white, as the Fort mothers hadfancied best suited their charge's fairness, even though the fabricmust of necessity be coarse; and this garment likewise caught the glowof the dancing flames till it seemed luminous in itself.

  As an idle rumor spreads and grows among better cultured people sosuperstition held in power these watchful Indians. Said one:

  "The father of his tribe has met a spirit on the prairie and broughtit to our village. Is the deed for good or evil?"

  This was what the men in the semi-circle had come to find out. Sothey relapsed again into silence, but kept a fixed gaze upon theindifferent child before them. She continued her playing and feedingas unconsciously as if she, the flowers, and the sunshine, werequite alone. Some even fancied that they could hear the orchidswhispering in return; and it was due to that morning's incident that,thereafter, few among the Pottawatomies would lightly bruise or breaka blossom which they then learned to believe was gifted with a sensatelife.

  But presently a sibilant "Hst!" ran the length of the squatting line,and warriors who feared not death for themselves felt their musclesstiffen under a tension of dread as they saw the slow, sinuousapproach of a poisonous reptile to the child on the mat; and thethought of each watcher was the same:

  "Now, indeed, the test--spirit or mortal?"

  The snake glided onward, its graceful body showing through the grass,its head slightly upraised, and its intention unmistakable.

  An Indian can be the most silent thing on earth, if he so wills, andat once it was as if all that row of red men had become stone. EvenWahneenah, in the wigwam behind, was startled by the stillness, andcautiously tiptoed forward to learn its cause. Then her heart, liketheirs, hushed its beating and she rigidly awaited the outcome.

  Only the child herself was undisturbed. She did not cease the slowlifting of the clay spoon to her lips, and between sips she stillprattled and gurgled in sheer content.

  "Kitty is most fulled up, 'cause she did have so big a breakfast, shedid. Nice Other Mother did give it me. I wish my bunny rabbit had notrunned away. Then he could have some. Never mind. Here comes abeau'ful cunning snake. I did see one two times to my Fort. Bad Jackysoldier did kill him dead, and that made Kitty cry. Come, prettything, do you want Kitty's breakfast? Then you may have it every bit."

  So she tossed her hair from her eyes and sat with uplifted spoon whilethe moccasin glided up to the mat and over it, till its mouth couldreach the shallow bowl in the child's lap.

  "Oh! the funny way it eats. Poor thing! It hasn't any spoon. It mighthave Kitty's, only----"

  The bright eyes regarded the rudely shaped implement and the mouth itwas to feed; then the little one's ready laughter bubbled forth.

  "Funny Kitty! How could it hold a spoon was bigger 'n itself--when itshands have never grown? Other pretty one, that Jacky killed, thatdidn't have its hands, either. Hush, snaky. Did I make you afraid, Ilaugh so much? Now I will keep very, very still till you are through.Then you may go back home to your childrens, and tell them all aboutyour nice breakfast. Where do you live? Is it in a Fort, as Kittydoes? Oh, I forgot! I did promise to keep still. Quite, quite still,till you go way away."

  So she did; while not only the red-skins, but all nature seemed topause and watch the strange spectacle; for the light breeze that hadcome with the sunrise now died away, and every leaf stood still in thegreat heat which descended upon the earth.

  It seemed to Wahneenah, watching in a very motherly fear, and to thesquatting braves, in their increasing awe, as if hours passed whilethe child and the reptile remained messmates. But at length thedangerous serpent was satisfied and, turning slowly about, retreatedwhence it came.

  Then Mistress Kitty lifted her voice and called merrily:

  "Come, Other Mother! Come and see. I did have a lovely, lovely creepyone to eat with me. He did eat so funny Kitty had to laugh. Then Iremembered that my other peoples to my Fort tell all the children tobe good and I was good, wasn't I? Say, Other Mother, my posies wantsome water."

  "They shall have it, White Papoose, my Girl-Child-Who-Is-Safe. Shewhom the Great Spirit has restored nothing can harm."

  Then she led the Sun Maid away, after she had gathered up everyflower, not daring that anything beloved of her strange foster-childshould be neglected.

  The watching Indians also rose and returned into the village fromthat point on its outskirts where Wahneenah's wigwam stood. They spokelittle, for in each mind the conviction had become firm that the SunMaid was, in deed and truth, a being from the Great Beyond, safe fromevery mortal hurt.

  Yet still, the Man-Who-Kills fingered the edge of his tomahawk withregret and remarked in a manner intended to show his great prowess:

  "Even a mighty warrior cannot fight against the powers of the sky."

  After a little, one, less credulous than his fellows, repliedboastfully:

  "Before the sun shall rise and set a second time the white scalp willhang at my belt."

  Nobody answered the boast till at length a voice seemed to come out ofthe ground before them, and at its first sound every brave stood stillto listen for that which was to follow. All recognized the voice, eventhe strangers from the most distant settlements. It was heard inprophecy only, and it belonged to old Katasha, the One-Who-Knows.

  "No. It is not so. Long after every one of this great Pottawatomienation shall have passed out of sight, toward the place where the daydies, the hair of the Sun Maid's head shall be still shining. Its goldwill have turned to snow, but generation after generation shall bowdown to it in honor. Go. The road is plain. There is blood upon it,and some of this is yours. But the scalp of the Sun Maid is in thekeeping of the Great Spirit. It is sacred. It cannot be harmed. Go."

  Then the venerable woman, who had risen from her bed upon the groundto utter her message, returned to her repose, and the warriors filedpast her with bowed heads and great dejection of spirit. In this moodthey joined another company about the dead council fire, and in angryresentment listened to the speech of the Black Partridge as he pleadedwith them for the last time.

  "For it is the last. This day I make one more journey to the Fort, andthere I will remain until you join me. We have promised safe escortfor our white neighbors through the lands of the hostile tribes whodare not wage war against us. The white man trusts us. He counts ushis friends. Shall we keep our promise and our honor, or shall webecome traitors to the truth?"

  It was Shut-Hand who answered for his tribesmen:

  "It is the pale-face who is a traitor to honesty. The goods which ourGreat Father gave him in trust for his red children have beendestroyed. The white soldiers have forgotten their duty and havetaught us to forget ours. When the sun rises on the morrow we willjoin the Black Partridge at the Fort by the great water, and we willdo what seems right in our eyes. The Black Partridge is our fatherand our chief. He must not then place the good of our enemies beforethe good of his own people. We have spoken."

  So the great Indian, who was more noble than his clansmen, went outfrom among them upon a hopeless errand. This time he did not make hisjourney on foot, but upon the back of his fleetest horse; and themedal he meant to relinquish was wrapped in a bit of deerskin andfastened to his belt.

  "Well, at least the Sun Maid will be safe. When the braves, with thesquaws and children, join their brothers at the camp, Wahneenah willremain at Muck-otey-pokee; as should every other woman of thePottawatomie nation, were I as powerful in reality as I appear. It isthe squaws who urge the men to the darkest deeds. Ugh! What will bemust be
. Tchtk! Go on!"

  But the bay horse was already travelling at its best, slow as its paceseemed to the Black Partridge.