Dragonfly knelt and picked up a handful of soil. “You will not forget that we belong to this land. You will not sign it away.”
Ely noticed the sad look on his father’s face.
“What happened while I was gone?” Ely asked.
“The Ogden Land Company tricked some of our men into getting drunk. They made them sign a paper. Those men were not chiefs. They had no right to sell the land. But the land company took that paper to the white man court. They said it proved that the Ogden Land Company now owned all of Tonawanda.”
Dragonfly poured the soil from his hand. He patted it gently.
“Our chiefs have gone to Albany,” he said. “We are not giving up this land.” Then he looked up at Ely. “You have grown taller. Your shoulders are broader. That is good. There will be much weight for you to carry. We will all need your help one day.”
Ely nodded his head. His father’s words touched his heart and made him wonder what he could do.
“Should I stay here?” Ely asked. “Not go back to Grand River?
Dragonfly shook his head. “No. For now, follow your heart. You will know when it is time to come back home.”
The next day was a Sunday. At the Baptist Church, Ely sat between Nic and Caroline. Caroline held his hand all through the service.
“We miss you at our school, Master Parker,” Reverend Stone said after the service. “I have prayed for your return.”
Ely nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
Other Seneca boys and girls came up to greet him. Ely had not realized he was so well liked. But one boy was missing.
“Where is Big Lake?”
“Who is that?” Nic said.
“What was his English name?” Caroline said.
“George,” Ely said. “They called him George.”
Nic sighed. “Oh,” he said. He looked down at the ground. “He is gone.”
“Is he at his home?” Ely asked.
Nic shook his head. “His father was one of those men who signed the paper that sold our land. He was so ashamed of himself that he threw a bottle of whiskey into the fire. That set their whole cabin on fire. George was able to save his little sisters and his mother. When he went back in to get his father, the roof fell on them.”
They walked on in silence. Ely thought about George and everything else happening at Tonawanda. Too many sad things. He had missed his parents, his brothers, and his sister. But now all he wanted was to go back to Grand River.
Nic reached into his pocket and took out a stone. He handed it to Ely. The stone had a hole in the middle of it. Ely held up it up and looked through the hole. A stone such as this was special.
He tried to give it back to Nic.
“Keep it, brother,” Nic said.
Ely closed his fingers around the stone. He felt it grow warm in his hand. “Nya:weh,” he said.
“It would be good to have you with us in school,” Nic said.
Ely nodded. “Someday,” he said. “Not now.”
“Could you write to us?” Caroline asked. “I am learning how to write letters.”
Ely liked the idea of getting letters from his sister. But his own English was not good enough to write.
“No,” he said. He held up the stone. “I will look through this and see you.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ways of the Warrior
Ely returned to Grand River.
His education continued. He gained blisters and skill using a bow and arrow. He learned how to draw back the bowstring and quickly release the arrow. Before long, he could strike things thrown high in the air. One day, Hummingbird brought out a long object wrapped in leather. It was a gun.
“I fought in two wars for the British,” Hummingbird said. “I learned how to use this. Now you will learn.”
Hummingbird leaned a board against a tree. He took out a powder horn and poured gunpowder into the gun barrel. Then he dropped in a lead bullet followed by a piece of cloth for wadding. He pulled out the long steel ramrod and pushed it into the barrel to tamp everything down.
His uncle raised the gun to his shoulder.
BAM!
The board jumped. Hummingbird had hit it in the center.
“Your turn,” Hummingbird said.
Ely picked up the gun. It was heavy in his hands. As he tried to pour the gunpowder down the barrel, some of it spilled. Ely bent to pick up the spilled gunpowder.
Hummingbird shook his head. “There will be dirt in it. Leave it there.”
Ely tried again. He poured gunpowder down the long barrel. He dropped in a lead ball. He picked up the ramrod. Then he saw how his uncle was looking at him.
“Oh,” Ely said. “I almost forgot the wadding.”
Hummingbird smiled.
Soon the gun was loaded. Ely looked at his uncle. Dragonfly nodded. Ely lifted the gun and pointed it at the board. He pulled the trigger.
BOOM!
The butt of the muzzle-loader slammed back into Ely’s shoulder. The sound of the gunshot was very loud. The bullet hit the tree three feet above the board.
Ely lowered the gun and rubbed his right shoulder.
“Good,” Hummingbird said. “Your gun just taught you three lessons. First, do not put in too much gunpowder. Second, a gun kicks back. Hold it firm against your shoulder so it does not hurt you. Third, do not hurry.”
In a battle, his uncle told him, most men miss their target because they shoot over the heads of the enemy.
“One slow, careful shot is better than a hundred fast ones.”
Ely was glad to learn about guns from his uncle. The Seneca nation would never again fight the white men. They had made that promise to President Washington. But his mother had dreamed that he would be a warrior. Learning about guns was part of being a warrior.
That second year passed even more quickly than the first. Ely still enjoyed learning from his uncle, but he thought often of home. He worried about the Ogden Land Company taking away their land. He remembered what his father had said to him. He would know when it was time to return home.
Ely held up the stone with a hole in it. He looked through it. He thought about his family. I want to see the faces of my parents, my brothers, and my sister. I have learned enough here.
He went to his aunt and uncle.
“I thank you for all you have given me,” he said. “But my heart misses my home.”
“Then you must go,” Near the Sky said.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Hello, Young Savage”
“Hasanoanda,” a voice whispered close to Ely’s ear. “Hasanoanda.” A hand gently shook his shoulder.
His aunt, Near the Sky, was leaning over him. Back home at Tonawanda, Ely had always been the first to rise. But here at Grand River, hard as he tried, his aunt and uncle always woke up before him.
It was still dark outside. But the fireplace cast enough light for him to look around the room. He could see the others wrapped in their blankets around him on the floor. The four Mohawk men who had come to visit were still sleeping. Hummingbird and Near the Sky were known for their hospitality. Any traveler was welcome to share their food and spend the night.
“He is waiting,” Near the Sky said.
Ely had slept with his clothes on. He pulled on his moccasins and stood up.
“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for everything.”
Near the Sky handed him a bag of food for his journey. It felt warm and smelled like corn cakes sweetened with maple sugar.
His aunt gave him a little push. “Go,” she said. “Travel safely.” She stayed by the fireplace as he walked away.
He stepped carefully around the sleeping men as he crossed the room. Then he paused by the door to pull back his long hair and tie it into a ponytail. Hummingbird was standing outside. His breath formed white clouds around his face. The spring morning was cold, but he wore no coat. Neither did Ely.
Ely took a deep breath of the good morning air. Then he took his uncle’s hand. They did not shake
as white men do. They grasped each other’s hands gently.
“I will not forget,” Ely said.
“We know,” Hummingbird said. He let go of Ely’s hand and went back into the cabin.
As he began his journey home, Ely followed the same road he had taken before. On the second day, as he reached a crossroads on the edge of the Canadian city called London, a voice called to him.
“Hello, young savage!”
Ely turned. He saw a group of four young white men. There were smiles on all their faces. One of them was waving at him. They were very well dressed in the same kind of red clothing. There was a word for that kind of clothing. Uniforms. That was it. Such uniforms meant they were soldiers.
“Hello,” Ely replied in English.
The four young men seemed surprised. The tallest of the four men looked at the one who had waved at Ely.
“Dennis, my man,” he said. “Have you found us an educated savage?”
“Let me see,” the young man named Dennis said. He turned toward Ely and held out his hand.
“Pleased to meet you,” Dennis said.
Ely took Dennis’s hand and looked him in the eye.
“Pleased,” Ely said slowly, “Pleased . . . to . . . meet . . . you.”
It had been a long time since Ely spoke English. But he thought he said the words well. However, for some reason, all four of the white soldiers laughed.
“A wonder!” the tallest of the soldiers said.
“A parrot,” said the shortest of the four. “The lad is just saying what you said. He’s like a silly bird taught to make sounds.”
Dennis made a gesture toward the short soldier. “Ralph,” he said, “hold on. Let me test our new . . . friend.”
He turned back toward Ely again.
“My name is lieutenant Dennis James Cross of Derby, England. Dennis, for short. This rough lot behind me are my fellow officers.”
Ely nodded. The young soldier in his red coat spoke English in a strange way, but Ely understood most of what he said.
“So,” Dennis continued, “what is your name, young savage?”
“It is not ‘young savage,’” Ely thought.
But he did not say that. He was not sure what to say. If he told them his Seneca name, they might not be able to say it. White men had a hard time speaking anything but English.
Ely put his hand on his chest. “My name,” he said. “My name is Ely. It rhymes with ‘freely.’”
The four white men looked surprised.
“A poet,” Ralph said. “We have got us a Shakespeare in buckskins.” Then he laughed. His laugh was loud and unpleasant. Something about that laugh sounded familiar to Ely. Then Ely realized why. It was like the braying of Dover, Reverend Stone’s mule.
“Not likely,” said the tallest of the soldiers. “Easier to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear than turn an ignorant savage into a civilized man.” Then he snorted like a pig.
“Too right, Dick!” said the third man, who was as round as a barrel. “Here, here!”
Dennis raised both his hands. “Tom,” he said to the round man. “Hush, now. All of you.”
Tom and the other two soldiers became quiet.
“I think we have us a guide,” Dennis said. “Ely, are you going this way?”
Dennis jabbed his hand toward the east.
Ely nodded. “Hamilton,” he said.
Dennis grinned at his friends. “See. Our friend Ely is headed to Hamilton. Same as us.”
“Whaaat?” Ralph brayed. “Do you mean to trust an Indian?”
“Do you know the way?” Dennis asked.
Ralph shook his head. He did not look happy.
“So,” Dennis said, “my new friend Ely. Would you like to accompany us? Be our Native guide? Show us the way to go?”
Ely hesitated. The soldiers did not speak the way Reverend Stone spoke. They spoke English very fast and in a strange way. However, Ely was getting used to their language. And he liked this one named Dennis. Also, to help anyone who asked for help was the Seneca way.
“I . . . will . . . guide,” he said.
Dennis slapped him on the back. “Good man!” he said. “Capital!”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Leather for Logs
At first Ely enjoyed traveling with the four English soldiers. He was not sure about Ralph, but he thought the other three liked him. They were always making jokes and laughing. At first, Ely laughed with them, though he did not understand their jokes.
But when Ely began to understand their jokes he stopped laughing. Their jokes were about him. They were making fun of him because they thought he was an ignorant savage.
“I say, Ely,” Dennis said. “Tom and Dick here were at Eton, while Ralph and I are both Harrow men. Tell us where you learned that fine English you speak so well.”
“Harvard, maybe,” Tom snorted, a broad smile on his face.
“Public school?” Dick said.
Ralph snickered. “More likely a tavern.”
The four of them laughed.
Ely looked down at the ground. He bit his lip. Did they really want him to reply?
“Come now, my boy, give us our answer,” Dennis said.
“I . . . I . . . go to Tonawanda Baptist School,” Ely said.
All four of the young English men roared with laughter.
“Ely,” Dennis said, “Do you know how to cook?”
That was easier to answer. “Yes,” Ely said.
“Capital,” Dennis said. “Be a good lad and make supper for us.”
That night the four Englishmen slept on one side of the fire. Ely was told to stay on the other side.
“Can you keep that fire burning all night?” Dennis asked.
“Yes,” Ely replied.
“Good lad,” Dennis said. He rolled over and went to sleep.
The next morning, Ely cooked breakfast for them. None of them said thank you. Instead, Dennis pointed at their packs.
“Could you carry all of those, my boy?” he said.
Ely understood what would happen if he said yes. But to say no would be lying. The packs were not that heavy. He was stronger than the four young Englishmen. They were soldiers, but they were not tough. Perhaps they would not make fun of him if he helped them carry their packs.
“Yes,” Ely said.
But the second day was worse than the first.
“Strong as a horse, this one,” Tom said.
“And has just about as much sense,” Ralph added. “Pick up the pace, boy. Don’t make me take the whip to you.”
They stopped often. The four Englishmen were not strong walkers.
“Not so fast, young savage,” Dick shouted at him.
“Walk at the pace of a civilized man,” Tom snorted.
Ely wished he could answer them. But he did not have the words.
“I will learn English,” he said to himself. “I will learn it so well that no one will ever make fun of how I speak again. I will. I will.”
That evening, Ely collected wood and made a fire. He cooked dinner for the men. They took the pot from him and ate almost all of the food. They left just the scrapings for him.
“Hand me that pack, my boy,” Dennis said.
“Be quick about it,” Ralph said. “Lazy savage.”
Dennis reached into the pack and pulled out a bottle of rum.
“All for us, lads,” Dennis said, uncorking the bottle. “All for one and one for all.”
“And none for our dusky young savage,” Dick said.
“Who has found him a new master,” Ralph chuckled as he drank from the bottle.
Ely watched as the young men drank. The Creator had told Handsome Lake that rum was an evil drink. It would make good men act bad. It would make one brother kill another.
The four Englishmen became drunk. They rolled onto their backs and looked as weak as babies.
“Boy,” Ralph yelled, his voice slurred. “Get over here and pull off our boots.”
“Yes,�
�� Dennis said. His voice was now as unpleasant and slurred as Ralph’s. “Pull off our boots before I take a stick to you!”
“Why did I ever want to be friends with these men?” Ely thought.
As he crossed over to the other side of the fire, Ralph stuck out his foot and tried to trip Ely. Ely walked around him. He pulled off Dennis’s boots. Then he did the same for the three other drunk, young Englishmen.
“Now polish those boots,” Dennis said. “Do it right or I shall beat you tomorrow.”
“Do it right and we will still beat you tomorrow,” Dick said.
The four of them began to laugh. Those laughs turned into snores.
Ely sat by the fire for a long time. The boots he had been ordered to polish were piled in front of him. All four of the young Englishmen were sound asleep.
“Never again,” he said. “Never again will anyone make fun of the way I speak.”
He took out the knife that his uncle Hummingbird had given him. Its sharp edge gleamed in the firelight. He looked across the fire at the four men. They were snoring loudly. Ely stood up.
When the English officers woke at dawn, Ely was gone. The campfire was cold. Ely had piled it high before he slipped off into the night, but boots cut into pieces by a sharp knife did not burn as long as logs.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Ready to Help
Ely walked faster after leaving the British soldiers. It took less than two more days to reach home. As always, his mother was waiting for him in front of their cabin. She held out her arms.
Ely’s mother was a strong woman. She hugged him so tightly that it hurt his ribs. Ely did not complain. He was home at last.
His mother stepped back and looked up at him.
“You have grown more,” she said.
Ely patted his stomach. “I am thinner, too,” he said with a smile. “I need your good food, my mother.”
His stomach did not stay empty long. Wolf Woman fed him stew and biscuits. He ate like a wolf. The more he ate, the more his mother smiled. When he was almost finished eating, he looked up.
Walking Two Worlds Page 4
