“Yes, it is better to know,” said Molly, “and not go on hoping.”
“Now I’ve got to move on,” said Fallenash. “I always had a hankerin’ to try the climate of Quebec so we’re takin’ a little canoe ride, me and my family. When them English take Quebec, only the Lord knows what’ll become of Old Fallenash.”
“Then where will you go?” asked Molly.
“I’ll find a little corner somewhere, where there ain’t no French or English to bother—me and my Indian woman and my little warrior! We can look out for ourselves. Don’t worry none ’bout us.”
“Thank you for coming such a long way just to tell me,” said Molly. “I’d have liked to see your Indian baby…”
“Try to be happy!” said Fallenash, kindly. “You ain’t so bad off, after all.”
“This is the only home I have now,” said Molly. She watched the trader start off. “I hope you’ll find some place to go to, after they take Quebec…”
She waved her hand till he was out of sight. “How good he is!” she said to herself. Then, like a young thin sapling, broken by cruel winds, she sank to the ground.
16
Born of a Long Ripening
SEVERAL DAYS LATER, AT noon, Molly walked slowly to the spring, carrying her water vessel. She wore the new cloth garments which Shining Star had made for her. She studied the embroidered tree pattern on her skirt as she walked along. At the spring, she was surprised to see Gray Wolf waiting.
“The English Captain has come,” he announced.
“Who? What?” asked Molly.
“Captain Morgan has come with a message from Sir William Johnson to Chief Burning Sky. Sir William Johnson is glad to know that he can count on the help of the People of the Long House. He sends word that Quebec has been taken by the English and all the French soldiers have been withdrawn. Soon he will be raiding the frontier settlements and sending out war parties.”
“What is that to me?” said Molly, with scorn in her voice. “With war I have nothing to do. That is the affair of the Chief and the sachems. Go, speak to them.” She shivered, then bent over to fill her vessel, so that she might hurry back.
Gray Wolf jumped up and took her roughly by the arm. “Come, little Pale-Face!” he commanded. “I will take you to him.”
Molly dropped her vessel of water. In a flood it poured over her feet.
“What?” she cried out. “Where will you take me?”
“To the fine English Captain, whose name is Morgan, you know!” said Gray Wolf sneering. “He says he comes with a message from Sir William Johnson, but we all know that he comes to take back the pretty captive, whose hair shines like gold in the sun and who has found great favor in the Captain’s eyes. He will take her back with him to Fort Niagara and give her a home. You wish to return to the pale-faces, do you not?”
Not once since bidding Fallenash farewell had Molly thought of leaving the Indians. Not once since the Englishman in red went away, had she given him a single thought. Now that he was back, she was surprised and startled.
“You wish to go back to the pale-faces, do you not?” asked Gray Wolf again.
“No! Oh, no!” cried Molly, backing up. “I don’t want to go with the Englishman.”
“Come, little Pale-Face!” commanded Gray Wolf. “You shall go whether you wish to or not. Ever since you were first adopted, you have been trying to go back to the pale-faces. Squirrel Woman has caught you talking to them time and again. You’ve tried to run away more than once and I know it. Now that the Englishman will pay gold…I mean, now that the Englishman wants to take you…
“But I don’t want to go!” cried Molly. “I want to stay here!”
Seeing Gray Wolf advancing toward her, she stumbled over her water vessel, turned and ran.
“You can’t run away from me, little Pale-Face!”
She heard the man’s angry words and heavy breathing behind her. Through the meadow to the corn-field, like a chased rabbit she ran. Then into the corn-field, the friendly corn-field, darting about among the corn-hills as fast as she could go. The sharp edges of the green leaves lashed her in the face, but after she passed, they concealed her. Gradually she slackened her pace, when she saw that she was not being followed. Gray Wolf had found difficulty ducking through and under the leafy corn-stalks. Gray Wolf’s feet were clumsy and tottery. He went back to the village without his pale-face, doubtless thinking up some other plan.
Trembling, Molly returned to Red Bird’s lodge. There she found Shining Star alone and poured out her story.
“Yes, I know!” cried Shining Star, in anger. “Gray Wolf says he will sell you for gold pieces. He wishes to take you to Captain Morgan himself. I will tell you why. He wishes to get his hands on the gold pieces, go to Fort Niagara and fit himself out in a white man’s suit. He will go to Fort Niagara and buy fire-water which lies sweet on the tongue.
“Oh, that we had never seen the face of an Englishman…Oh, that we had never promised to fight with them…” Shining Star walked back and forth, overcome with anger. Molly looked at her in surprise. She had never seen her angry before.
“But Corn Tassel,” the Indian woman stopped and spoke gently, “I have good news for you. The Chief and sachems have met in council and have given orders that you are not to be sold without your own consent. You may stay here quietly and undisturbed, if you choose.”
“Will he soon be back?” asked Molly, full of fear. “Will Gray Wolf soon be back?”
“He will look for you everywhere,” replied Shining Star, quickly. “So you must hide.”
“Shall I go and sleep on the pole platform in the cornfield?”
“No, Corn Tassel, that would not be safe,” said Shining Star. “He saw you go into the corn. He will look for you there. No—go down to the creek. Go down where the rushes grow and hide there till evening. After dark, come back to the lodge. I will bake a small cake and put it here, outside the door, if there is danger. If you see no cake, you may come in and sleep in your bed. If the cake is there, take it with you and go back to the creek. Wait there till by some means you hear from me again.”
Molly ran fast to the waters edge and hid in the weeds and rushes. She found a dry stone to sit upon and rest, but the pounding in her heart would not be stilled. It seemed to shout and tell the world where she was hiding. She pressed her hand upon her breast, but could not stop the beating.
When darkness fell, she crept back to the lodge, where all was silent. There on the threshold, she saw a little cake lying. The cake told her that Gray Wolf was near, waiting for her, waiting to take her to the Englishman. Seizing the cake, she ran back to the creek to her hiding-place.
The night was worse than the night on the pole platform. Then the rustling, whispering corn had spoken to her in comfort. Now, on the hard stone, she could only crouch in weariness. Queer sounds on all sides came to haunt her—the sounds of night breezes among the rushes, night movements of flying birds and creeping animals. Mosquitoes buzzed and bit incessantly, making sleep impossible. But worse than discomfort was her own fear. Would Gray Wolf manage to find her and sell her to the Englishman?
Dawn came up red over the marshy creek and Molly ate her little cake. Still she waited, as the sun rose higher and higher. Sometime after midday, her hope returned, for, hurrying through the tall grasses came Beaver Girl, carrying bread in a small basket.
“Chief Burning Sky has sent for you!” said Beaver Girl, sadly. “Shining Star says you are to come at once.”
“Chief Burning Sky!” cried Molly. “What does he want with me? Is Gray Wolf there?”
“I know nothing of Gray Wolf,” said Beaver Girl, sobbing. “All I know is that the Chief has sent for you, because the Englishman in red is there. Turkey Feather says he has come to take you away and I won’t have my white sister any more.”
“But must I go?” demanded Molly. “Must I go away with the Englishman?”
“Don’t you want to go, then?” cried Beaver Girl, in astonishment. “T
urkey Feather says that for many moons you have cried to go back to the pale-faces and it is right you should go…”
“Yes, it is right that I should go,” said Molly, thoughtfully. “The Englishman said he would take me to Fort Niagara to live with people of my own kind.”
“Oh, how can I live without you?” cried Beaver Girl, sobbing afresh.
“Weeping is weakness,” said Molly, sternly. “An Indian girl should be strong and well-hardened. Turkey Feather said so.”
“But how can I be strong and hard,” cried Beaver Girl, “when I love you so much?”
Molly hadn’t gone far into the village, when Turkey Feather came running to meet her.
“I spoke to Chief Burning Sky,” he said, solemnly, “about the trouble which lies so heavily on your heart. He listened and said it would all be arranged. I’m glad you’re going back to the pale-faces, where there will be no need to drown your sorrow in tears. I’m glad you will always be happy, even if you won’t see me go off with the men…”
“Go off with the men?” asked Molly. “What do you mean?
“The Chief says I’m to go with the men on their autumn hunt down the River Allegheny!” Turkey Feather’s chest puffed out with pride.
“You are!” cried Molly, in excitement. “You’re to go just like a man?”
“‘When a man has killed a deer, then he is a great hunter! You heard Grandfather Shagbark say that,” replied Turkey Feather. “But I only wanted to prove to you what a great hunter I am, and now you will not be here to see me go—or return with the game…”
Then, suddenly, Shining Star was standing by Molly’s side.
“Gray Wolf—where is he?” cried Molly, fearfully.
“He came last night, just after you left,” said Shining Star, calmly. “He searched for you through the lodge and the village. He was very angry when he could not find you. Since the rising of the sun he has been searching in the corn-field. We will go now to the Chief. He will settle the matter—before Gray Wolf returns.”
On the way to the council house, all the children came running up—Star Flower, Storm Cloud, Gray Mouse, Lazy Duck, Chipmunk, Woodchuck and the two smallest, Little Snail and Blue Trout. They hung on Molly’s arms and clung to her skirts.
“Oh, Corn Tassel,” they cried. “Do not go away and leave us.” “We love you, Corn Tassel. You are our gentle, sympathetic sister.” “We shall never be happy again if you go away and leave us…”
Impatiently, Molly tried to shake them off. She wanted to be free of their clinging arms and bodies. She wanted to be free of all their claims upon her, free of their loving devotion, so she could think. Now, at last, her time had come—the time she had waited for so long, her chance to go. Josiah had had his chance and, without hesitation, he had taken it. Now hers had come. What should she do?
“Are you going to leave us, Corn Tassel?” cried the children.
“I don’t know…oh, I don’t know…” she said, slowly.
“Don’t leave us! Don’t leave us! Don’t leave us!” The children’s cries kept ringing in her ears as she left them beside the door and entered the council house. She took one fleeting glance round the room. The Chief was there, the sachems and warriors, but not only these—the women were there, too—Panther Woman, Red Bird, Earth Woman, and all the others. The council house was filled with faces and all of them were staring at her.
Then she saw the white man, dressed in red—a red so red it almost hurt her eyes. She saw gold lace and shining buttons of brass, and then above, his smiling face.
“Captain Morgan has come to us from Sir William Johnson.” Molly turned her eyes away from the shining red to hear what the Chief was saying. “He brings a message of thanks for our offer to join forces with the English.”
Chief Burning Sky paused, then went on: “It has not been our policy, heretofore, to sell or exchange captives, as you know, for we consider our adopted captives our own flesh and blood. But now that we fight with the English, our policy has altered. Sir William Johnson says that as soon as the French are subdued, all white captives in the hands of the Iroquois will be given up by treaty agreement. Since this is undoubtedly true, it would seem the better part of wisdom to listen to Captain Morgan’s offer. Because the treaty has not yet been drawn, Captain Morgan has generously offered to ransom you himself.
“The sachems and I have decided in council to give you your freedom, if you desire it. If you do not desire it, you may stay quietly and undisturbed with us for the rest of your life. You are not to be sold without your own consent.
Sold! The word hit Molly like the sharp sting of an arrow from a tightened bow. Looking up, she saw Gray Wolf’s face against the bark wall, leering down at her. When had he come? Was he waiting to get the money? Was he already holding out his greedy hand to the Englishman?
Sold! A white girl sold—to buy Gray Wolf a white man’s suit at Fort Niagara, to buy Gray Wolf fire-water to turn him into a worse beast than he was! Molly’s breast heaved up and down with righteous anger. Her eyes flashed as she stared at the man’s wicked face against the bark wall.
But the Chief was speaking again. She turned to him and looked up into his face. There she saw real sorrow, which moved her deeply, as she drank in his words:
“My daughter, these are men of the same color as yourself, who speak the language you spoke in childhood. Soon a treaty will be signed which says you must go free. But you need not wait for that. Captain Morgan offers you a home and every comfort of the pale-faces, if you wish to go.
“My daughter, for many moons you have lived with us. I call upon you to say if Red Bird has not been a mother to you; if she has not treated you as a mother would a daughter of her own? I call on you to say if Shining Star and Squirrel Woman have not treated you as sisters?”
“Red Bird has been a mother to me,” said Molly, in a low voice. “Shining Star and Squirrel Woman have been like my own sisters.”
A murmuring sound ran through the crowd of waiting Indians like the hum of a rising storm, then died away, as the Chief spoke:
“My heart rejoices to hear you say so, my daughter. The women have taught you many things. They have taught you to grow corn, to prepare food, to care for the younger children, to tan skins and make clothing. Earth Woman, who has no daughter, has taught you an old, old art—how to make fine pots of grace and beauty. You mean as much to Earth Woman as if you were her daughter. She is growing old—you will be a support to her in her old age. She will lean on you as upon a staff. If you are going to leave us, we have no right to say a word, but we are broken-hearted. I speak for the women. I speak for the children. I speak for the men and boys, and for myself.”
A vision of Earth Woman’s kind face rose up before Molly’s eyes. She remembered the look of pain upon it when Running Deer went away, never to return. Could she, who loved her so much, bring her still more sorrow?
“With us for many moons you have made your home,” continued the Chief. “With us you have eaten bread and meat. When we have had plenty, you have shared in it. When we have had nothing, you, too, have known the pinch of hunger. You have learned what giving is, without thought of return. You have learned what truth and courage are. By the hardships which you have suffered with us, you have learned bravely to live and, because of that, when your time comes, you will the more bravely die.
“If, my daughter, you choose to take the hand of this man of your own color and follow the path where he leads, I have no right to say a word. But if you choose to stay with the Senecas, then the pale-faces have no right to speak. Whatever you choose, no pale-face, no Seneca, shall change your decision. Now reflect upon it and take your choice and tell us. It shall be as you decide. I have spoken.”
The room was very still. It was still with all the silence of complete emptiness, as if no man breathed or moved or stirred. It was still with the silence of mingled hope and fear, for hope and fear, with desperate strength, struggled against each other in the breasts of the waiting Indians
.
Molly thought of everything, and yet it seemed as if the turmoil in her mind was so great, she could not think at all. She thought of the children she had just left crying at the door. She thought of her special friends—Turkey Feather, Beaver Girl, Shining Star and Earth Woman. She thought of her home and family, her parents, brothers and sisters—all gone, never to be recovered. She thought of the Englishman in red and his smiling face. She looked at him and he was speaking—speaking to her only, in English, so that the Indians might not understand.
“My child, you were torn away from home and family by the ruthless Indians,” he said, speaking fast.
“Don’t let their fine words blind you to the crime which they committed against you, in destroying your family, in stealing you away from your home, from white people. Don’t fool yourself, or let them fool you into thinking that you can forgive them. You may at the moment, but later you will come to hatred. You will never stop hating till you have had your revenge.
“These Indians, who profess to be so friendly, have caused you to suffer every hardship—hunger, sickness, pain and distress. They are a cruel, relentless, wicked and savage people. They are revengeful and cannot be trusted. They are letting you grow up, an untamed savage, like a wild animal in the forest. They will marry you to an Indian whom you cannot love; your children will be Indian children, who will be hated by the white people.
“From this, my child, I will take you away. I shall give you a good home, send you to a school to acquire education and a polish of good manners. I shall give you all the benefits of civilized life. I shall make a lady out of you. Surely you would prefer to be a cultivated lady rather than a savage! Surely there is only one choice you can make!”
His words brought back to Molly a picture of the woman in shining silk at Fort Duquesne. What if she had stayed there as she had so much wanted to do? She wondered what life with the white people would be like—rich people, who wore not homespun, but silk in glistening, bright colors.
Then she remembered the Englishman’s words. He was right. It was true. She was an untamed savage, growing up like a wild beast in the forest. She looked for a moment at the open palm of her hand and saw how hard and calloused it was—from work. It would never lie soft and idle on shining silk. She was not meant to grace a rich man’s home—to be an elegant lady. An inner conviction told her so.