Peter wandered over to Linnett’s side and scratched the piglet’s soft bald ear. “She’s yore’n if’n you want her, my Christmas present for you!”
Linnett placed her free arm about the boy and gave him a squeeze. “Of course I want her, Peter, she is so adorable!”
“The ‘varken’ must stay here with her mother until she is bigger, but you can take her to Boston when you leave here,” Hans said, reaching for the now squealing hoglet. Sarah translated the Dutch word ‘varken’ – pig. “I’ll just go and return her to her mamma. We don’t want her rejected because she has been missing from her and her siblings for too long.” Hans left the house with Peter trotting at his heels clutching a pig bucket full of kitchen scraps to feed the ‘varken family’ their supper.
“John, this is so exciting. My very own pig! I just can’t wait to mate her and have more piglets!”
John laughed. “Poor little thing, she’s only just been born, let her grow up first!”
John and Linnett spent two days at the Lammers’ farm. Starved as they had been of company over the winter months, it was balm for them all to talk and laugh again, both couples enjoying the close friendship that had developed between them in the early fall. They stayed two days at the farm but too soon the time came for Linnett and John to return to their cabin. They had the maps and guidance for the long journey to Boston packed away with their belongings.
A deep sadness prevailed upon them all, knowing they might not have the chance to meet again.
“When you leave for Boston, just set the cows free to roam. They will wander down and find the rest of the herd,” Hans instructed. They were taking two cows back with them this time because Hans felt that two cows released into the wild would have a better chance of finding the herd. Linnett and John each had a cow tethered to their horse for their journey to the cabin; it would be a slow return, matching their speed to that of the cows.
Finally, all was packed onto the horses and they made tearful farewells. “Write to us in Boston when the baby is born and tell us whether it is a girl or a boy. Perhaps you could come and stay when the child is a little older?” Linnett asked hopefully as she hugged her friend goodbye.
“Perhaps,” agreed Sarah, knowing even as she said it she could never leave the farm to travel all the way to Boston.
Linnett hugged Peter to her and kissed his fair head. “You look after your mother now, Peter, and perhaps you can visit us in Boston.”
Peter’s eyes shone “Can I, mother?!”
He turned excitedly to Sarah, but it was Hans who answered him. “Perhaps in a year or two when you are a little older ‘lieveling’!” he told his son, ruffling his hair. Amidst a chorus of goodbyes Linnett and John rode away, back to the solitude of their mountain hideaway.
John was anxious to return to their cabin; he had enjoyed the visit immensely but longed to have Linnett all to himself again. Seeing Sarah large with her coming child made him want to plant his own seed; he so longed for a son of his own.
They broke the journey back well over half way. Sarah had packed them the usual generous supply of food, and they lunched well on fresh baked bread, cheese and cold chicken. “John, I long to gallop a little, the ground is much softer now and there is hardly any snow about. May I please ride ahead a little way and leave both cows with you? I could light the fire and start boiling water if I arrive back before you,” Linnett said and looked pleadingly at her husband.
John hesitated. He hated Linnett roaming off on her own. Ever since he had come across her with Ned, he feared for her safety.
“I don’t know, Linnett, it’s not safe like England.”
“Well, I know that now! Look, I will be careful and keep to the trail. Please, John!”
Linnett knelt in front of John and grasped his hands raining kisses on them. John pulled his hands away laughing. “Enough! Enough!... Oh, very well then!”
“Thank you, John!” Linnett cried.
“Wait and let me finish! Only on the condition that you keep within my sight,” John told her sternly.
Linnett’s face fell. “But that’s not fair, John, that is so unnecessary!”
“Nevertheless those are my terms, you can take them or leave them; either that, or you ride with me and the cows.”
Linnett scowled at him. “Since I appear to have no choice, I agree.”
John nodded, pleased. He grinned at his wife’s cross face. “Oh and Linnett darlin’?”
“Yes?”
“Disappear from my sight for more than five minutes, and you’ll not be able to sit for a week!” John told her pleasantly as he mounted his horse. Linnett stuck out her tongue playfully as she turned Amber and rode off with a flourish. John watched indulgently as she rode away.
Linnett kept her word, returning to the horizon to wave at John every time she rode out of sight. Finally, when she realised she was almost at the cabin, she cantered ahead, intending to go in and relight the fire.
As she rounded the crest of the hill, she noticed a black plume of smoke rising over the trees. The smoke seemed to be coming from the direction of their cabin. Linnett kicked Amber into a canter and then into a gallop. She rode hard until the cabin came into sight. Flames poured out of the windows and curled up over the roof. Shocked, Linnett slowed Amber to a walk and stared incredulously at her home.
Had they left the fire in? Surely the embers were all put out but obviously not! With a cry of dismay, she kicked Amber and cantered up to the front of the cabin. Linnett jumped from the horse and ran forward towards the entrance.
She was almost at the door when strong arms swept her up and back away from the inferno. She screamed in horror as she turned and found herself looking straight into the red and black painted face of a native warrior.
CHAPTER 9
He was a huge man, at least six feet four. He was bare chested despite the cold, and his face and body were painted red and black. His dark eyes bore into Linnett’s when he spoke, his voice deep and guttural. “Mi he wi.”
Linnett shook her head to show that she could not understand him and then tried to pull her arms free of his grip. The man tightened his hold on her, swinging her up into his arms. Linnett punched his shoulders and screamed, absolutely terrified. Where was John? She craned her neck, looking around to see if he was about. It was then that Linnett noticed four or five other Indians sat quietly on horses to the left of the cabin at the edge of the trees.
The large Indian walked over towards them and threw the screaming Linnett up over his horse so that she lay face down across the horse’s shoulders. He then swiftly mounted behind her, his arm resting solidly on Linnett’s back. Shocked and horrified, Linnett struggled and kicked as the horses and their riders turned and melted quietly into the trees.
They travelled onwards for an hour or more before coming to a halt in dense forest. Linnett had ceased her struggles after the native man had wound his hand in her hair and yanked hard each time she moved. All she could think of was that John would be so worried.
He would be afraid for her, or perhaps he might think that she had perished in the fire and he might not come searching for her. Then Linnett remembered that she had not unlocked the cabin door. If the door was still intact and not burned by the time John reached the cabin, surely he would at least realise that she was not inside.
Linnett was spilled unceremoniously to the ground and lay winded in a tousled heap. Once she had managed to get her breath back, she sat up and scraped the leaf debris from her hair. The native Indians were hunkered down the other side of the horses, their guttural voices murmured in conversation. Stealthily Linnett got to her feet and edged away from the horses, creeping into the dark thicket of trees. When she was sure that she was well screened by undergrowth, she fled as fast as she could manage, running through sharp branches that whipped her face and scratching brambles that caught at her skin and clothes alike.
She recalled running from Nat and wondered why she could hear no pursuit. Perhaps
the natives thought they would be better off without her, and with this idea in mind, Linnett slowed her pace and eventually came to a halt.
She stood doubled over, gasping, attempting to catch her breath, and she listened: silence, nothing. She started to walk, picking her way more discriminatingly through the tangle of undergrowth. Linnett noticed a particularly nasty scratch across her forearm and bent her head to lick the stinging wound. Suddenly and without warning, Linnett walked smack into the solid chest of her native captor.
Linnett recoiled in shock; where on earth had he popped up from? The Indian raised his hand and smacked her, open palmed, across the side of her face. Stumbling backwards, Linnett fell to the ground. The man bent over her and said something to her in his guttural language. Linnett looked up into his dark glittering eyes, giving him stare for stare, before she spat full into his face. He wiped the spittle away and back-handed her across the face again, this time splitting Linnett’s bottom lip.
“Ow! You utter b-bastard!”
Ignoring her, he reached down and painfully yanked her to her feet by her hair, winding it around his hand to keep hold of her. He strode off, dragging Linnett along in his wake. Linnett dragged and pulled resisting him, but it was useless; her tactic barely touched on his greater strength. Tears of pain and fear spilled down her cheeks.
When they arrived back at the clearing, the other natives had simply vanished. Linnett tried to kick her tormentor and struggled to break free but the man grinned and picked her up as though she weighed nothing and threw her face down over the horse once again before leaping up behind her. This time, however, he swung her upright and grabbing her ankle turned her so that she sat with her back to him. Linnett sat up straight, then bent slightly forward so that she did not touch him, but as the horse leapt forward, she was jolted back against the solid slab of his chest, his steely arm coiled around her to hold her firmly in place.
Linnett had no idea how long they travelled for. Once it had grown dark, time ceased to exist. Linnett fell into a fitful doze, waking and sleeping depending on the jolting movements of the horse.
Just as light was streaking across the sky with the pink light of early dawn, they approached habitation. There was a barking of dogs which jolted Linnett out of her stupor. The horse picked its way between clusters of strange round dwellings. A mangy collection of assorted dogs ran between the horse’s legs, whining and yipping with excitement. There were almost no people about, only a couple of elderly women tending to fires. It seemed that the rest of the inhabitants of this community were still abed.
The native Indian stopped the horse outside one of the lodges and dropped Linnett to the ground like a stone before leaping from the horse himself. He went into the opening of the dwelling holding back a flap of hide that covered the entrance. He turned to Linnett and gestured impatiently with his hand for her to follow him. She stumbled to her feet and, since there was nowhere else for her to go, followed him inside. Linnett was dazed and unconvinced that this was actually happening to her.
A fire was burning in a hollow pit at the centre of the dwelling and it was a relief to be inside and warmer. Despite her exhaustion and fear Linnett then looked around curiously. Above the fire hung strips of various food stuffs drying and being smoked, roots and strips of meat, a whole fish and some plants or herbs. The floor of the lodge was covered in a sort of rush matting. Large baskets stood or hung lashed around the walls of the enclosure and on the opposite side of the fire, there were furs covered with woven blankets in bold colours and patterns.
Linnett’s captor took her arm and led her to one of these fur and blanket piles and he gestured for her to sit. Linnett lowered herself gratefully onto the furs and blankets; she pulled one of the brightly woven blankets around her and curled up. Closing her eyes, her last coherent thought before she slept was of John and of how worried he must be.
Linnett was awakened by small hands patting her at her cheeks and lifting up her eyelids. She opened her eyes and stared into a pair of dark brown, shining eyes belonging to a small golden-skinned child. The boy smiled at Linnett in recognition.
Linnett realised that it was her baby Indian, the very one that she had found and cared for! Linnett sat up and held out her arms, delighted to see the child again, the boy immediately scrambled onto her lap. He held out his hand to show her the carved horse he clutched. It was the one that she had given him on the day he had left her at the cabin. Linnett hugged his small warm body and he cuddled against her plugging in his thumb.
Linnett smiled. “Well, I see you haven’t changed my little suck-a thumb!” She spoke aloud, noticing for the first time that they were alone in the lodge. Linnett settled back enjoying the warmth and companionship of the little child, his innocent presence relieved some of the exhausting terror she was feeling. He was the only person in this place whom she knew intended her no harm. Why had she been brought here? Were white women kidnapped on a regular basis by the natives? Would John be able to track her this far away from Hans’s place? The questions whirled around inside her head.
There was movement at the entrance of the lodge, and a large figure stooped in through the doorway; it was her captor. Today, he was clear skinned, free of the terrifying black and red paint that had covered him yesterday. He had obviously bathed, for his hair was damp and the cocks-comb on the top of his head was soft and fluffy. There was nothing else “fluffy” about this man, though. Linnett stared at his harsh arrogant face, noting the high planes of his cheek bones and the black eyes that appeared to be so cold.
He nodded to Linnett, and she thought his cheek twitched slightly at the sight of the child curled in her lap. Linnett held the babe protectively against her and lifted her chin, staring at him defiantly, refusing to allow him to intimidate her. With a jolt, Linnett recognised him: it was the man’s broken nose. This man was the child’s father, the same man that had been to the cabin to fetch him! Her hold on the child relaxed slightly, he wouldn’t harm his own son.
There was a shout from outside and the Indian spun round lifting the flap at the entrance to admit another person. Linnett gasped in shock when the second man straightened facing her and she recognized him!
“Will! Oh my God, Will, it is you – you are alive!” she cried out, both amazed and delighted that amidst her terror there was someone she knew! Someone who could help her, someone she could talk to and find out what on earth was happening!
Linnett was completely shocked since she had assumed that Will was dead - killed by a bear. Will and his partner Nat had found Linnett when she had so stupidly run away from the Lammers farm and got herself hopelessly lost. The two men had split up and while poor Will was being chased by a bear, Nat had tried to force himself on Linnett. If John had not arrived and dealt with Nat at that precise moment, Linnett would have surely been raped by the fur trapper.
“Yup, ‘tis me, girl!”
Will came over and sat down next to Linnett, and she swung round to face him, astonished. “B-but I saw the bear pick you up and attack you! How on earth did you get away?”
Will grinned. “It attacked me all right, tore my left arm clean off!”
He turned to show his armless shoulder. The skin had grown over the wound and was pink and puckered. “Yon native, Yaogah, saved me. He still wears the claws of that mean old bear strung about his neck.”
Linnett peeked sideways at the enormous native man. He certainly looked savage enough to kill a bear. “Yaogah -- is that his name?” she asked.
“Aye ‘tis. That child that you hold in your arms is his son, Aweont.”
Linnett nodded, “I thought that this might be his son. Aweont...what does the name mean?”
Will pondered for a moment before saying, “The nearest translation I can think of is Growing Plant or Growing Flower. The meaning is a little different, though; it means strong, healthy, a thriving growing being.”
“I see......Aweont” Linnett rolled the name around, trying to get used to it.
; The small boy sat up, appearing pleased that Linnett used his name, and nodded, saying his name himself. Linnett smiled down at him and stroked his cheek with her finger. Then she pointed to her own chest and said, “Linnett.”
She noticed that they were closely observed by the child’s father, his features seeming to soften at the obvious rapport between her and his son. Linnett turned to look at Will; there was so much she needed to ask him. “Will, why has he,” she nodded at Yaogah, “brought me here? My husband will be frantic with worry by now. I have to get back to my home.”
Will looked her full in the eye and put his hand over hers, giving it a firm squeeze of reassurance.
“Now then, lass, you aren’t going to like what I’m about to tell you, but just be calm and hear me out. Yaogah lost his wife when the child was born. Some fourteen months later, he was out hunting. He had taken his son with him on the trip but the child wandered off and got hisself lost. You found the child and by all accounts cared for him.”
Linnett nodded but didn’t interrupt as Will continued, “The child has missed you. He cried for you for many days after they returned with him to the village. All the time it was, ‘Mi he wi! Mi he wi! Mi he wi!’ That means Sun Woman in their language, and that is what the child named you.” Will reached out and touched Linnet’s hair with a finger. “Your sun-yellow hair.”
Linnett smiled down at the child she held. The little boy grinned back and said her name firmly, “Mi he wi.”
Will coughed. “Well now,” he said, “the long and the short of it is that you have been chosen to be his new mother. Yaogah means to take you as his squaw...his wife.”
Linnett shook her head violently. “No! He cannot do that! I am already married! Tell him! Tell him now!”
Will shook his head sympathetically, saying, “White man’s law means nothing here. Do you have any children yet?” he asked her.
Linnett narrowed her eyes suspiciously and said, “N-no...why?”
His Defiant Wife, the Adventures of Linnett Wainwright, Book 2 Page 9
