A Little Maid of Ticonderoga
Page 6
CHAPTER VI
THE JOURNEY
"Mother dear, mother dear! Did you hear what Kashaqua says: that shewill take me to Aunt Prissy's to-morrow?" said Faith.
The Indian woman had turned quickly, and her sharp little eyes werefixed on Mrs. Carew's face.
"You 'fraid let little girl go with Kashaqua?" she said, a littleaccusing note in her voice.
"No, indeed. Kashaqua would take good care of Faith. I know that. Butto-morrow----" Mrs. Carew spoke bravely, but both Faith's father andmother were sadly troubled. To offend the Indian woman would mean tomake enemies of the tribe to which she belonged; and then neithertheir lives nor their property would be safe; and she would neverforgive them if they doubted her by refusing to let Faith make thejourney to Ticonderoga in her care.
It was Faith who came to the rescue by declaring: "Oh, I'd rather gowith Kashaqua than anybody. Mother dear, you said Aunt Prissy wouldsee about my shoes and dresses. I don't have to wait to get ready,"and Faith ran to her mother eager for her consent, thinking it wouldbe a fine thing to go on a day's journey through the woods with theIndian woman, and quite forgetting for the moment that it meant a longabsence from home.
Nothing could have pleased Kashaqua more than Faith's pleading. Thehalf-angry expression faded from her face, and she nodded and smiled,grunting her satisfaction, and taking from one of her baskets a pairof fine doeskin moccasins, which she gave to Faith. "Present," shesaid briefly.
"They are the prettiest pair I ever had!" said Faith, lookingadmiringly at their fringed tops, and the pattern of a vine that ranfrom the toes to insteps, stitched in with thread-like crimson andblue thongs.
"It is a fine chance for Faith to go to her Aunt Priscilla," said Mr.Carew. "Do you know where Philip Scott lives, across Champlain?"
"Me know. Not great ways from Fort," responded Kashaqua. "Me takelittle girl safe to Scott's wigwam."
"That's right, Kashaqua," said Mr. Carew.
"Then me come back to mill and get meal an' get pie," said Kashaqua.
"Of course. I will make you the finest pie you ever tasted," said Mrs.Carew, with a little sigh of relief. For she had wondered how long itwould be before they could get news that Kashaqua had kept herpromise, and that Faith had reached her aunt's house in safety.
In the surprise and excitement of this new decision neither Faith norher parents had much time to think about their separation. AlthoughAunt Priscilla was to see that Faith was well provided with suitabledresses, shoes, hat, and all that a little girl would need to wear toschool and to church, there was, nevertheless, a good deal to do toprepare and put in order such things as she would take with her.Beside that Mrs. Carew meant to give the squaw a well-filled luncheonbasket; so the remainder of the day went very quickly. Faith helpedher mother, and talked gaily with Kashaqua of the good time they wouldhave on the journey; while Kashaqua smoked and nodded, evidently quitesatisfied and happy.
When night came the Indian woman made her preparations to sleepbefore the kitchen fire, and the Carews went up-stairs to bed. Themother and father lay long awake that night. While they assured eachother that Faith would be perfectly safe, and that the Indian womanwould defend the little girl from all danger, they could not but feelan uncertainty. "We can trust the strength and love that has protectedus always to go with our little maid," said Mr. Carew; "perhapsKashaqua is the safest person we could find."
"We must hope so; but I shall not draw a good breath until she is hereagain, and tells me Faithie is safe with Priscilla," responded Mrs.Carew.
The little household was awake at an early hour the next morning.Faith was to wear the new moccasins. She wore her usual dress of brownhomespun linen. Faith had never had a hat, or a pair of leather shoes,and only the simplest of linen and wool dresses. She had never beforebeen away from home, except for a day's visit at the house of someneighboring settler. She knew that when she got to Aunt Prissy's shewould have a hat, probably like the one Esther Eldridge had worn,ribbons to tie back her yellow curls, shining leather shoes, and manythings that she had never before seen. She had thought a good dealabout these things when planning for the journey, but now that thetime was so near when she must say good-bye to her mother and fathershe forgot all about the good times in store, and wished with all herheart that she were not going.
"Don't let Kashaqua see you cry, child," her father whispered, seeingFaith's sad face; so she resolutely kept back her tears.
Breakfast was soon over. Kashaqua had stowed Faith's bundle ofclothing in one of her baskets and swung it over her shoulder. Thebasket of luncheon also was secured by stout thongs and hung acrossher back, and they were ready to start.
"Be a good child, Faithie, dear," whispered Mrs. Carew.
"I'll fetch you home when it is April's turn to stir the fire," saidher father smilingly, and Faith managed to smile back, and to saygood-bye bravely, as she trudged down the path holding tight toKashaqua's brown hand.
"I be back to-morrow night," Kashaqua called back, knowing that wouldbe a word of comfort to the white woman who was letting her onlychild go from home.
Neither Faith nor Kashaqua spoke for some little time. At last Faithstopped suddenly and stood still, evidently listening. "I can't hearthe brook," she said.
Kashaqua nodded, and the two walked on through the autumn woods. Butnow Kashaqua began to talk. She told Faith stories of the wild animalsof the woods; of the traps she set along the streams to catch themartens and otters; and of a bear cub that the children of her villagehad tamed. But it had disappeared during the summer.
"The papooses catch birds and feed them," she continued, "tame birdsso they know their name, and come right to wigwam." Faith listenedeagerly, and began to think that an Indian village must be a verypleasant place to live.
"Where is your village, Kashaqua?" she asked.
"You not know my village? Way back 'cross Mooselamoo," answeredKashaqua.
"Perhaps I can go there some time," suggested Faith. But Kashaquashook her head.
For several hours they walked steadily on through the autumn woods.They climbed several rocky ridges, crossed brooks, and carefully madetheir way over a swampy stretch of ground. Faith was very tired whenKashaqua finally swung the baskets and bundles from her shoulders anddeclared that it was time to eat.
The trail had led them up a hill, and as Faith, with a little tiredsigh, seated herself on a moss-covered rock, she looked about with alittle exclamation of wonder. Close beside the trail was a roughshelter made of the boughs of spruce and fir trees, and near at handwas piled a quantity of wood ready for a fire. There was a clearing,and the rough shelter was shaded by two fine oak trees.
"Does somebody live here?" asked Faith.
"Traveler's wigwam," explained Kashaqua, who was unpacking the lunchbasket with many grunts of satisfaction. "White men going down thetrail to big road to Shoreham sleep here," she added, holding up afine round molasses cake in one hand and a roasted chicken in theother.
Faith was hungry as well as tired, and the two friends ate with goodappetite. Kashaqua repacked the basket with what remained of the food,and with a pleasant nod to Faith declared she would "sleep a little,"and curled herself up near the shelter.
Faith looked about the rough camp, and peered down the trail. Shedecided she too would sleep a little, and stretched herself out closebeside Kashaqua, thinking that it was a wonderful thing to be so farfrom home,--nearly in sight of Lake Champlain, Kashaqua had told her,with an Indian woman for her guide and protector; and then her eyesclosed and she was sound asleep.
It seemed to Faith that she had not slept a minute before she awakenedsuddenly, and found that Kashaqua had disappeared. But she heard aqueer scrambling sound behind her and sat up and looked around. For amoment she was too frightened to speak, for a brown bear was clawingthe remainder of their luncheon from the basket, grunting andsniffing, as if well pleased with what he found.
As Faith looked at him she was sure that this creature had draggedKashaqua off into the wo
ods, and that he might turn and seize her assoon as he had finished with the basket.
"Kashaqua! Kashaqua!" she called hopelessly. "What shall I do? Whatshall I do?"
There was a rustle of leaves close behind her and the Indian womandarted into the clearing. Without a word to Faith she ran straight towhere the bear was crouched over the basket. Faith could hardlybelieve what she saw, for Kashaqua had seized the basket and pushed itout of the bear's reach, and was now belaboring him with a stout pieceof wood that she had seized from the pile by the shelter. As she hitthe bear she called out strange words in the Indian tongue, whosemeaning Faith could not imagine, but which the bear seemed tounderstand. The creature accepted the blows with a queer littlewhimper which made Faith laugh in spite of her fear. And when Kashaquahad quite finished with him he crept along beside her, looking up asif pleading for forgiveness.
"Oh, Kashaqua! Is it the bear that your papooses tamed?" exclaimedFaith, remembering the story told her on the way.
Kashaqua nodded, at the same time muttering words of reproach to thebear.
"He like bad Indian, steal from friends," she explained to Faith. "Hisname Nooski," she added.
Nooski was quite ready to make friends with Faith, but she was notyet sure of his good-nature. It seemed to the little girl that thebear understood every word Kashaqua uttered; and when they went ontheir way down the trail Nooski followed, or kept close beside them.
It was still early in the afternoon when they reached level ground andFaith had her first glimpse of the blue waters of Lake Champlain andsaw the heights of Ticonderoga on the opposite shore. For a moment sheforgot Nooski and Kashaqua, and stood looking at the sparkling watersand listening to the same sound of "Chiming Waters" that had made theearly French settlers call the place "Carillon." She wondered if sheshould ever see the inside of the fort of which she had heard so much,and then heard Kashaqua calling her name.
"Canoe all ready, Faith." The Indian woman had drawn the birch-barkcanoe from its hiding-place in the underbrush, and the light craft nowrested on the waters of the lake. The baskets and bundles were in thecanoe, and Kashaqua, paddle in hand, stood waiting for her littlecompanion.
"Where's Nooski?" asked Faith, looking about for the young bear.
Kashaqua pointed toward the distant range of mountains which they hadleft behind them. "He gone home," she said.
Kashaqua told her how to step into the canoe, and how to sit, andcautioned her not to move. Faith felt as if the day had been awonderful dream. As Kashaqua with swift strokes of her paddle sent thecanoe over the water Faith sat silent, with eyes fixed on the loomingbattlements of the fort, on the high mountain behind it, and thoughtto herself that no other little girl had ever taken such a journey.
Kashaqua landed some distance below the fort; the canoe was againsafely hidden, and after a short walk across a field they reached abroad, well-traveled road. "'Most to Philip Scott's house," gruntedKashaqua. "You be glad?" and she looked down at the little girl with afriendly smile.