Rodney, the Ranger Part 8

"Ahneota has one brother. He left the palefaces and is an Indian."

The boy understood this to mean that he might, by forsaking his people, find safety as a member of the tribe. Every tie of affection bound him to his own people. He knew, moreover, that if an adopted member of the tribe ever deserted it the offence was regarded as a most serious one; that on the contrary he would be expected, if need be, to fight against his own people. He made no reply.

"Will paleface be Ahneota's brother?"

Thought of home almost brought tears to the boy's eyes. He gulped down his emotion, for he knew the Indians look with contempt on any display of one's feelings.

"It would be deserting my people," he finally replied. "My father and mother and sister are living. I thank you for the--the kindness. I hope you will permit me to go to them. My people are at peace with your people."

"The palefaces speak words of peace but their deeds are war."

There was silence for a few moments and then the old chief spoke with Rodney's captor. They talked in the Indian tongue. Little Louis, standing by, evidently knew what they were saying, for, as the Indian who claimed Rodney spoke more loudly, he interrupted, claiming, as afterward appeared, that the prisoner was his, that he had first seen him and wanted him for a playmate.

The old Indian did not speak for a time, evidently being puzzled what to do. Then, addressing Rodney, he said: "Young paleface will not be the Indian's brother; he cannot find his way to the big river. He may share the Indian's lodge and meat." Saying this he turned and entered his lodge.

"Come."

It was Louis who spoke and, taking Rodney by the hand, he led him away, while Caughnega, with a sullen look on his face, went his way.

Louis was a handsome little fellow, affectionate in his manner and delighted with his success in obtaining a new playfellow. As they went along they met one that at first Rodney thought to be an Indian but on closer inspection decided was a white man; the fellow was, in fact, none other than Conrad, whose capture has already been related.

"Ah, Conrad! _mon ami_. I have a new friend," exclaimed Louis.

"I suppose you are one of his old ones," remarked Rodney with a smile.

Conrad made no reply, but looked inquiringly while Louis rattled off an account of the events of the morning.

The news did not appear to be agreeable to Conrad, who walked away without comment; but the little fellow was too full of the novelty of his experiences to heed Conrad's manner, and they went on to a lodge on the edge of the village and Louis led his companion into where, seated on a bear skin, was a woman weaving mats out of rushes. She looked up quickly, and Rodney saw at a glance that she was superior to any Indian women he had ever seen, evidently a half-breed. The blanket she wore and her surroundings looked clean, and her face showed intelligence much beyond the ordinary; but there was something in the look she gave him that warned Rodney she would be his implacable enemy.

The little fellow's tongue ran on in a mingled jargon of French, Indian and English and Rodney comprehended, rather from the looks and gestures of the woman and child than from the words, that Louis was determined the newcomer should live with them, while she objected, whereat Louis began to wail imperiously, and the glance of dislike she gave Rodney was not rea.s.suring.

"I will build a lodge, you can show me how to do it, and then you can have one more home to go to," said Rodney, trying to soothe the troubled feelings. This idea pleased Louis, who dried his eyes and was for beginning on it right away, but "Maman," as he called the half-breed woman, did not appear to like this plan any better than the first, and her beady eyes snapped ominously; but she said nothing.

Rodney wished he might lie down on one of the clean mats before him and sleep, for he was so tired he scarcely could keep awake even while walking. He shrank from asking the woman for a place to sleep, but finally did so, and she grunted a.s.sent.

While Rodney slept the sleep of exhaustion, Louis went in search of Conrad, and asked him to build his new friend a wigwam.

Conrad scowled and replied that the new boy wouldn't live long enough to need it, and Louis cried, "They can't kill him, Ahneota won't let them."

"Vat for you vant him, yet? Conrad your friend is."

"I want him, too; he's white like Jules. Papa said: 'Jules is a good boy and you may play with him all day.' You don't play with me all the time, but go away hunting and will not let me go, too."

"He need will have to eat, und to hunt, I tink, alretty."

Louis was so insistent that Conrad finally a.s.sisted him in cutting poles for the proposed wigwam and setting them in place. By this time Rodney, who had been waked by the woman, joined them and worked as hard as his sore muscles would permit. By night he had a shelter of bark and boughs. Louis brought a mat and there the weary captive lay down for the night, hungry and sore. Later, the little fellow brought him some dried venison and showed him the spring that supplied the village with drinking water.

The following morning Rodney chanced to see the half-breed, "Maman,"

as Louis called her, though Rodney felt sure she was not his mother, talking very earnestly with Caughnega and their talk ceased when he approached, which aroused his suspicion. He made inquiries of Louis and learned that Caughnega was the "medicine man" of the village and possessed influence. Ahneota was the more influential and the boy shrewdly guessed that Caughnega was jealous.

A chief of a tribe maintained his influence through no laws, for the Indians had none. The position might be strengthened by the chief having influential relatives, but this did not appear to be true of Ahneota. Generally speaking, a chief retained his place because the tribe trusted and respected him, as it was evident they did Ahneota.

Not only members of his tribe, but other Indians, came and held counsel with him. At first Rodney hesitated about calling on the chief but gradually became a daily visitor at his lodge.

One of the accomplishments which Rodney had learned from Th.e.l.lo was fishing. When leaving home he had taken a good linen line and several iron hooks. Indians speared or netted most of the fish they took, but occasionally angled for them with bone hooks and lines made of twisted fibre. The boy obtained permission to fish and in this way often contributed to the food supply of the village.

Food was held in common. Any one having it was expected to share equally with the others. When luck smiled on the boy he was careful to have a nicely broiled fish to take to Ahneota. He also attempted to make friends with Conrad but always met with a surly reception.

Louis was so friendly as to be almost a nuisance, especially as Rodney believed the little fellow's fondness for him was a cause for the dislike of Conrad and "Maman." The little boy, whenever he could escape the watchfulness of "Maman" would pay a visit to Rodney's wigwam, which had been made quite substantial, being covered with strips of elm bark. Louis was always clamouring for stories about white people and one evening, Rodney replied: "I have told you all my stories. Now you must tell me some; tell me of the place where you lived before you came here. Is 'Maman' your real mother and is your father living?"

A startled look came into the lad's big brown eyes. He peered about in the growing dusk, then he said: "You will not tell? Maman says she will kill me if I tell. Maman is not my mother. She had eyes like flowers and papa, he was _gentilhomme_, would carry her in his arms when she was sick. He was tall like Ahneota, only his eyes were not so black. Mamma called him her soldier."

"Where is he now?" asked Rodney, thoroughly interested.

"He went away after mamma died and I went to live with _grandmere_ above Lachine. Marie, that's Maman, she says I must call her that, she was a servant for _grandmere_, who died last harvest. She was not sick a long time like mamma, but only a few days. Marie said it was small-pox, and we must go away and find papa, but we have not found him. I want to see my papa," and Louis threw himself sobbing on the ground.

Rodney stroked his long yellow hair and called him "Yellow Locks," but the little chap peevishly exclaimed, "I like Louis better. I don't want to be called 'Yellow Locks.'"

A faint noise behind caused Rodney to turn quickly. There stood Marie, the half-breed!

How much had she heard? the boy asked himself; but he was learning to control his feelings, and he said pleasantly enough, "Good evening, Maman. Louis is tired and I reckon wants to be in bed."

"I want to sleep here," exclaimed the child.

"Not to-night," replied Rodney. "You are too tired and the bed in Maman's lodge is softer."

She took the little chap up in her arms and carried him away. It was evident she was fond of him, which might account for her having stolen him, as it appeared she had; also for her jealousy. What would be the end of the muddle? Rodney asked himself. He thought of the stake and the frenzied villagers dancing around the fire with blood-curdling yells. Would he be able to endure the torture? He hoped so, for the boy was proud of his race. But why borrow trouble? All around him were signs of peace and savage contentment. The little camp-fires twinkled in the gathering dusk. Some of the squaws sang bits of a wild lullaby to their children and he could hear, in droning refrain:

"Wau, wau, tee, say.

Wau, wau, tee, say,"

sung as a lullaby by one of the squaws, who had slung the wicker-work frame, into which the papoose was strapped, across the limb of a tree and swung it back and forth while she sang, as one would rock a cradle.

"Poor little mummy," thought Rodney. "No wonder Indians can endure pain. Tied into that framework straight as an arrow and unable to brush away a mosquito or help themselves, they ought to learn to endure anything."

CHAPTER IX

A WHITE BOY ADOPTED BY THE INDIANS

It already has appeared that Conrad's wish that he might be adopted by the Indians, a thought which comforted him as he lay bound on the first night of his captivity, had been realized; also that he had been adopted by the old chief, Ahneota, who now wished to adopt Rodney.

As Conrad's experiences were such as the other lad might expect, should he finally yield to the old Indian's desire, a brief account of them may be found interesting.

Following the night of Conrad's capture the party travelled for two days in a westerly direction. Just at dusk on the second day they came to a small river. Here canoes were brought from hiding and all, save one Indian who swam across with the horse, paddled to the other side in the canoes.

Arriving on the other bank several guns were discharged, followed by l.u.s.ty yells that soon were responded to with like yells from over a wooded ridge near the river. Within a few minutes squaws and papooses came running to meet them.

Though Conrad was a stolid lad his pulse quickened, for he had heard many tales of tortures inflicted by the savages. The Indian dogs snapped at his heels; the children and some of the squaws tormented him by pinching, slapping and threatening, to all of which the men paid no heed and the boy tried to appear indifferent.