The Sun Maid: A Story of Fort Dearborn

by Evelyn Raymond

  CHAPTER III.

  IN INDIAN ATTIRE.

  Not many hours after Black Partridge turned his back uponMuck-otey-pokee, all its fighting men, with their squaws and children,also left it, as their chief had foreseen they would. They followedthe direction he had taken, though they did not proceed to thegarrison itself.

  The camp to which they repaired was a little distance from the Fort,and had been pitched beside the river, where was then a fringe ofcottonwoods and locusts affording a grateful shade. Here the squawscooked and gossiped, while their sons played the ancient games ofthrowing the spear through the ring, casting the hatchet, and shootingbirds on the wing.

  The braves tested their weapons and boasted of many valorous deeds; orwere else entirely silent, brooding upon mischief yet to come. Overall was the thrill of excitement and anticipation, which the greatheat of the season seemed to deepen rather than dispel.

  At the Fort, Black Partridge pleaded finally and in vain.

  "We have been ordered to evacuate, and we will obey. All things are inreadiness. The stores are already in the wagons, and other wagons waitfor the sick, the women, and the children. Your people have promisedus a safe conveyance through their country, and as far as we shallneed it. They will be well paid. Part they have received, and the restof their reward will be promptly delivered at the end of the journey.There is no more to be said"; and with this conclusion the wearycommandant sat down in his denuded home to take a bit of food and afew moments' rest. He nodded hospitably toward an empty chair on thefarther side of the deal table, by way of invitation that the Indianshould join him, but this the honest chief declined to do.

  "No, good father, that can no longer be. I have come to return youthis medal. I have worn it long and in peace. It was the gift of yourpeople, a pledge between us of friendship. My friendship remainsunbroken, but there also remains a tie which is stronger. I am thechief of my tribe. My young men are brave, and they have beendeceived. They will punish the deceivers, and I have no power toprevent this. Nor do I blame them, though I would hold them to theircompact if I could."

  "Cannot the Truth-Teller compel his sons to his own habit?"

  "Not when his white father sets them a bad example."

  "Black Partridge, your words are bold."

  "Your deed was bolder, father. It was the deed of a fool."

  "Take care!"

  As if he had not heard, the chief spoke steadily on:

  "My tribesman, Winnemeg--the white man's friend--brought the orderthat all goods stored here should be justly distributed among mypeople, to every man his portion. Was it thus done?"

  "Come, Black Partridge, you are not wanting in good sense nor inhonesty. You must admit that such a course would have been hazardousin the extreme. The idea of putting liquor and ammunition into thehands of the red men was one of utter madness. It was worse thanfoolhardy. The broken firearms are safe in the well, and the moredangerous whiskey has mingled itself harmlessly with the waters of theriver and the lake."

  "There is something more foolish than folly," said the Indian,gravely, "and that is a lie! The powder drowned in the well will killmore pale-faces than it could have done in the hands of your redchildren. The river-diluted whiskey will inflame more hot heads thanif it had been dispensed honorably and in its full strength. But nowthe end. Though I will do what I can do, even the Truth-Teller cannotfight treachery. Prepare for the worst. And so--farewell!"

  Then the tall chief bowed his head in sadness and went away; but theterrible truth of what he then uttered all the world now knows.

  Meanwhile, in the almost empty village among the cottonwoods, the SunMaid played and laughed and chattered as she had always done in herold home at the Fort. And all day, those wiser women like Wahneenah,who had refrained from following their tribe to the distant camp,watched and attended the child in admiring awe.

  By nightfall the Sun Maid had been loaded with gifts. Lahnowenah, wifeof the avaricious Shut-Hand but herself surnamed the Giver, cameearliest of all, with a necklace of bears' claws and curious shellswhich had come from the Pacific slope, none knew how many yearsbefore.

  The Sun Maid received the gift with delight and her usual exclamationof "Nice!" but when the donor attempted to clasp the trinket about thefair little throat she was met by a decided: "No, no, no!"

  "Girl-Child! All gifts are worthy, but this woman has given her best,"corrected Wahneenah, with some sternness. This baby might be a spirit,in truth, but it was the spirit of her own child and she must stillhold it under authority.

  At sound of the altered tones, Kitty looked up swiftly and her lipquivered. Then she replied with equal decision:

  "Other Mother must not speak to me like that. Kitty is not bad. It isa pretty, pretty thing, but it is dirty. It must have its faceswashed. Then I will wear it and love it all my life."

  An Indian girl would have been punished for such frankness, butLahnowenah showed no resentment. Beneath her outward manner lay adeeper meaning. To her the necklace was a talisman. From generationslong dead it had come down to her, and always as a life-saver. Whoeverwore it could never be harmed "by hatchet or arrow, nor by fire orflood." Yet that very morning had her own brother, the Man-Who-Kills,assured her that the child's life was a doomed one, and she had morefaith in his threats than had his neighbors in their village. She knewthat the one thing he respected was this heirloom, and that he wouldnot dare injure anybody who wore it. The Sun Maid was, undoubtedly,under the guardianship of higher powers than a poor squaw's, yet itcould harm nobody to take all precautions.

  So, with a grim smile, the donor carried her gift to the near-by brookand held it for a few moments beneath the sluggish water; then shereturned to the wigwam and again proffered it to the foundling.

  "Yes. That is nice now. Kitty will wear it all the time. Won't thechildrens be pleased when they see it! Maybe they may wear it, too, ifthe dear blanket lady says they may. Can they, Other Mother?"

  The squaws exchanged significant glances. They knew it was notprobable that the Fort orphan and her old playmates would ever meetagain; but Wahneenah answered evasively:

  "They can wear it when they come to the Sun Maid's home."

  Again Lahnowenah would have put the necklace in its place, and asecond time she was prevented; for at that moment the One-Who-Knowscame slowly down the path between the trees, and held up her crutchwarningly, as she called, in her feeble voice:

  "Wait! This is a ceremony. Let all the women come."

  Lahnowenah ran to summon them, and they gathered about the tepee inexpectant silence. When old Katasha exerted herself it behooved allthe daughters of her tribe to be in attendance.

  Wahneenah hastened to spread her best mat for the visitor's use, andhelped to seat her upon it.

  "Ugh! Old feet grow clumsy and old arms weak. Take this bundle, sisterof my chief, and do with its contents as seems right to thee."

  The other squaws squatted around, eagerly curious, while Wahneenahuntied the threads of sinew which fastened the blanket-wrapped parcel.This outer covering itself was different from anything she had everhandled, being exquisitely soft in texture and gaudily bright in hue.It was also of a small size, such as might fit a child's shoulders.

  Within the blanket was a little tunic of creamy buckskin, gaylybedecked with a fringe of beads around the neck and arms' eyes, whilethe short skirt ended in a border of fur, also bead-trimmed in an oddpattern. With it were tiny leggings that matched the tunic; and adainty pair of moccasins completed the costume.

  As garment after garment was spread out before the astonished gaze ofthe squaws their exclamations of surprise came loud and fast. A groupof white mothers over a fashionable outfit for a modern child couldnot have been more enthusiastic or excited.

  Yet through all this she who had brought it remained stolid andsilent; till at length her manner impressed the others, and theyremembered that she had said: "It is a ceremony." Then Wahneenahmotioned the squaws to be silent, and demanded quietly:

  "What is
this that the One-Who-Knows sees good to be done at the lodgeof her chief's daughter?"

  "Take the papoose. Set her before me. Watch and see."

  Wide-eyed and smiling, and quite unafraid, the little orphan from theFort stood, as she was directed, close beside the aged squaw while shewas silently disrobed. Her baby eyes had caught the glitter of beadson the new garments, and there was never a girl-child born who did notlike new clothes. When she was quite undressed, and her white bodyshone like a marble statue in contrast to their dusky forms, thehushed voices of the Indians burst forth again in a torrent ofadmiration.

  But Kitty was too young to understand this, and deemed it some newgame in which she played the principal part.

  The prophetess held up her hand and the women ceased chattering. Thenshe pointed toward the brook and, herself comprehending what was meantby this gesture, the Sun Maid ran lightly to the bank and leaped in.With a scream of fear, that was very human and mother-like, Wahneenahfollowed swiftly. For the instant she had forgotten that the merrylittle one was a "spirit," and could not drown.

  Fortunately, the stream was not deep, and was delightfully sun-warmed.Besides, the Fort children had all been as much at home in the wateras on the land and a daily plunge had been a matter of course. SoKitty laughed and clapped her hands as she ducked again and again intothe deepest of the shallow pools, splashing and gurgling in glee, tillanother signal from the aged crone bade the foster-mother bring thebather back.

  "No, no! Kitty likes the water. Kitty did make the Feather-lady washthe necklace. Now the old Feather-lady makes Kitty wash Kitty. No, Ido not want to go. I want to stay right here in the brook."

  "But--the beautiful tunic! What about that, papoose?"

  It was not at all a "spiritual" argument, yet it sufficed; and with aspring the little one was out of the water and clinging to Wahneenah'sbreast.

  As she was set down, dewy and glistening, she pranced and tossed herdripping hair about till the drops it scattered touched some facesthat had not known the feel of water in many a day. With an "Ugh!" ofdisgust the squaws withdrew to a safe distance from this unsolicitedbath, though remaining keenly watchful of what the One-Who-Knows mightdo. This was, first, the anointing of the child's body with someunctuous substance that the old woman had brought, wrapped in a pawpawleaf.

  Since towels were a luxury unknown in the wilderness, as soon as thisanointing was finished Katasha clothed the child in her new costumeand laid her hand upon the sunny head, while she muttered a charm to"preserve it from all evil and all enemies." Then, apparentlyexhausted by her own efforts, the prophetess directed Lahnowenah, theGiver, to put on the antique White Necklace.

  This was so long that it went twice about the Sun Maid's throat andwould have been promptly pulled off by her own fingers, as anadornment quite too warm for the season had not the fastening been oneshe could not undo and the string, which held the ornaments, of strongsinew.

  Then Wahneenah took the prophetess into her wigwam, and prepared ameal of dried venison meat, hulled corn, and the juice of wild berriespressed out and sweetened. Katasha's visits were of rare occurrence,and it had been long since the Woman-Who-Mourns had played thehostess, save in this late matter of her foster-child; so for a timeshe forgot all save the necessity of doing honor to her guest. Whenshe did remember the Sun Maid and went in anxious haste to thedoorway, the child had vanished.

  "She is gone! The Great Spirit has recalled her!" cried Wahneenah, indistress.

  "Fear not, the White Papoose is safe. She will live long and her handswill be full. As they fill they will overflow. She is a river thatenriches yet suffers no loss. Patience. Patience. You have taken joyinto your home, but you have also taken sorrow. Accept both, and waitwhat will come."

  Even Wahneenah, to whom many deferred, felt that she herself must paydeference to this venerable prophetess, and so remained quiet in herwigwam as long as her guest chose to rest there. This was until thesun was near its setting and till the foster-mother's heart had grownsick with anxiety. So, no sooner had Katasha's figure disappearedamong the trees than Wahneenah set out at frantic speed to find thelittle one.

  "Have you seen the Sun Maid?" she demanded of the few she met; and atlast one set her on the right track.

  "Yes. She chased a gray squirrel that had been wounded. It was stillso swift it could just outstrip her, and she followed beyond thevillage, away along the bank. Osceolo passed near, and saw thesquirrel seek refuge in the lodge of Spotted Adder. The Sun Maid alsoentered."

  "The lodge of Spotted Adder!" repeated Wahneenah, slowly. "Then onlythe Great Spirit can preserve her!"