The Little Red Foot Part 83

There were only two logical methods left open to me to accomplish this hazardous business with my handful of scouts. The easier way was instantly to face about, secure two good canoes at Schoharie, make directly for the Mohawk River, and follow it westward by water day and night.

But the surer way to run across Sir John's trail--and perhaps McDonald's--was to take to the western forests, follow the hypothenuse of the great triangle, and, travelling lightly and swiftly northwest, headed straight for Oneida Lake.

This was what, finally, I decided to attempt as I lay on my blanket that night; and I was loath to leave the Schoharie and ashamed to turn tail to McDonald's ragam.u.f.fins, when the entire district was in so great distress, and Brakabeen farms a rat's nest of disloyal families.

But there seemed to be no other way to conduct if I obeyed my orders, too;--no better method of discovering McDonald and of devising punishment for him, even though in the meanwhile he should carry fire and sword through Schoharie,--perhaps menace Schenectady,--perhaps Albany itself.

No, there was no other choice; and finally I realized this, after a night pa.s.sed in agonized indecision, and asking G.o.d's guidance to aid my inexperience in this so terrible a crisis.

At dawn my Indians began to paint.

After we had eaten a bowl of samp I called them around me, shewed them the map I had made in my _carnet_, told them what I had decided, and invited opinions from everybody. I added that there now was no time for any customary formalities of deliberation so dear to all Indians: I told them that Tharon and G.o.d were one; and that our ancestors understood and approved what we were about to do.

Then I laid a handful of dry sticks upon the ground, pretended that this was a fire; warmed my hands at it; lighted an imaginary pipe; puffed it and pa.s.sed it around in pantomime.

Still employing symbols to rea.s.sure these young Oneida warriors concerning time-honoured formalities which they dared not disregard, I drew a circle in the air with my finger, cut it twice with an imaginary horizontal line to indicate a sunrise and a sunset, then turned to Tahioni and bade him answer my speech of _yesterday_ after a _night's deliberation_.

The young warrior replied gravely that he and his comrades had consulted, and were of one mind with me. He said that it was with sorrow that they turned their backs on McDonald, who was a great villain and who surely would now be coming to Schoharie to murder and destroy; but that _it did no good to sever the tail of a snake_. He said that the fanged head of the Tory Serpent was somewhere east of Oneida Lake; that if we scouted swiftly and thoroughly in that direction we could very soon surmise where the poisonous head was about to strike, by discovering and then observing the direction in which the body of the serpent was travelling.

One by one I asked my young men for an opinion: the youthful warriors were unanimous.

Then I turned and gazed fearfully at Thiohero, knowing well enough that these other adolescents would obey her blindly, and in dread lest her own dreams should sway her judgment and counsel her to advise us to some folly. She was their prophetess; there was nothing to do without her sanction. I could not order these Oneidas; I could only attempt to use them through their own instincts and personal loyalty to myself.

The early sun gilded the painted body of their sorceress, making of her clan ensign and the Little Red Foot two brilliant and jewelled symbols.

She stood lithely upright, one smooth knee nestling to the other, her feet in their ankle moccasins planted parallel and close together, and her body all glistening like a gold dragon-fly.

From her painted cincture hung her war-sporran,--a narrow cascade of pale blue wampum barred with scarlet and lined with winter weasel.

Hatchet and knife swung from either hip; powder-horn and bullet-wallet dangled beneath her arm-pits. A war bow and a quiver full of scarlet arrows hung at her back. Her hair, shoulder-short and glossy-thick, was bound above the brows by a tight scarlet circlet. From this, across her left ear, sagged a heron's feather.

Never had I beheld such wild and supple grace in any living thing save only in a young panther clothed in the soft, dun-gold of her wedding fur.

"Thiohero," I said, "little sister to whom has been given an instinct more delicate than ours, and senses more subtle, and a wisdom both human and superhuman,--you who listen when the forest trees talk one to another under the full moon's l.u.s.tre,--you who understand the speech of our lesser comrades that fly through the air paths on bright wings, or run through the dusky woodlands on four furry feet--you who speak secretly with the mighty dead; who whisper and laugh with fairies and little people and stone-throwers; who with your magic drum can make worn-out and cast-off moccasins dance; whose ancestress ate live coals to frighten away the Flying Heads; whose forefathers destroyed the Stonish Giants; _we Oneidas of the clan of the Little Red Foot_ are now of one mind concerning the war-trail we ought to take and follow to the end!

"_Little sister_; we desire to know your opinion. _Hiero!_"

Then the Little Maid of Askalege folded her arms, looking me intently in the eyes.

"_Brother_, and my Captain," she said very quietly, "a year ago I told you that you should come from Howell's house _in scarlet_. And it was so.

"And while you lay at Summer House a Caughnawaga woman, with yellow hair, washed the scarlet from your body.

"And there came a day when, we met under apple-trees in green fruit--this Yellow Haired woman and I. And, stopping, we confronted each the other; and looked deeply into one another's minds.

"_Brother_: when I discovered that Yellow Hair was in love with you I became angry. But when I discovered that this young woman also _was a sorceress_, then I became afraid.

"_Brother_: there was a vision in her mind, and I also beheld the scene she gazed at.

"_Brother_: we saw a battle in the North, and men in strange uniforms, and cannon smoke. And we _both_ were looking upon _you_; and upon a shape near you, which stood wrapped to the head in white garments.

"_Brother_: I do not know what that shape may have been which stood robed in white like a Chief of the Eight Plumed Ones.

"But at that moment we both understood--the Yellow Haired one and I--that you must surely travel to this place we gazed at.

"So it makes no difference where you decide to go; all trails lead to that appointed place; and you shall surely come there at the hour appointed, though you travel the world over and across before you shall at last arrive.

"_Brother_: we Oneida, of the Allied Clan of the Little Red Foot, are now of one mind with our elder brother. He is our chief and Captain. He has spoken as an Oneida to Oneidas. We understand. We thank him for his love offered. We thank him for his kinship offered. We accept; and, in our turn, we offer to our elder brother and Captain our love and our kinship. We take him among us as an Oneida.

"At this our fire--for alas! no fire shall burn again at Onondaga, nor at Oneida Lake, nor at The Wood's Edge, nor at Thendara--I, Thiohero, Sorceress of Askalege, and _Oyaneh_, salute an Oneida chief and Sachem.

Hail Royaneh!"

"Hai! Royaneh!" shouted the young warriors in rising excitement.

The girl come to me slowly, stooped and tore from the ground a strand of club-moss. Then, straightening up, she lifted her arms and held the chaplet of moss over my head,--symbol of the chief's antlers.

"O nen ti eh o ya nen ton tah ya qua wen ne ken...."

Her young voice faltered, broke:

"Tah o nen sah gon yan nen tah ah tah o nen ti ton tah ken yahtas!" she added in a strangled voice: "Now I have finished. Now show me the _man_!"

"He is here!" cried the excited Oneidas. "He wears the antlers!"

Tahioni stretched out his hand; it was trembling when he touched the red foot sewed on my hunting shirt.

"What is his name, O Thiohero, whom you have raised up among the Oneida?

Who mourn a great man dead?"

A deep silence fell among them; for what their prophetess had done meant that she must have knowledge that a great man and chief among the Oneida lay dead somewhere at that very moment.

Slowly the girl turned her head from one to another; a veiled look drowned her gaze; the young men were quivering in the imminence of a revelation based upon knowledge which could be explained only by sorcery.

Then the Little Maid of Askalege took a dry stick from the pretended fire, crumbled it, touched her lips with the powder in sign of personal and intimate mourning.

"Spencer, Interpreter and Oneida Chief, shall die this week in battle,"

she said in a dull voice.

A murmur of horror and rage, instantly checked and suppressed, left the Oneidas staring at their prophetess.

"Therefore," she whispered, "I acquaint you that we have chosen this young man to take his place; we lift the antlers; we give him the same name,--Hahyion!"[38]

[Footnote 38: Haghriron, of the Great Rite, in the Canienga dialect.]

"Haih! Hahyion!" shouted the Oneidas with up-flung hands.

I was dumb. I could not speak. I dared not ask this girl why and by what knowledge she presumed to predict the death of Spencer, and to raise me up in his place and give me the same name.

In spite of me her magic made me shudder.