CHAPTER XXVIII.
The snow was falling fast; the early snow of Northern America. Thewoods had not yet parted with all the splendour of their autumnalfoliage; and the rivers still sang along their beds, confined, indeed,and narrowed in their channel by a ledge of thin ice along theirbanks, but still gay and sparkling. The air, however, was raw andcold; the ground hard beneath the tread; the sky dark and lowering;and the flakes rested unmelted on the earth, covering rapidly thegreen grass and the brown leaves.
Otaitsa stole forth from the shelter of the great lodge, passedamongst the huts around, and out into the fields through the openingin the palisade. She was going where she wished not her steps to betraced, and she knew that the fast-falling snow would speedily fill upevery foot-print. Quietly and gracefully she glided on till shereached the edge of the deep wood, and then along a little-frequentedtrail, till, at the distance of about half a mile, her eyes, keenlybent forward, perceived something brown crouching still and motionlessunder cover of a young hemlock, the branches of which nearly swept theground.
As the Blossom approached, a head, covered with glossy black hair,rolled up behind, was raised above a little bush which partly hid thewoman's figure; and, coming nearer, Otaitsa asked, in a low voice,--
"Did he pass?"
"No," answered the young maiden to whom she spoke; "it was Apukwa, themedicine-man."
Otaitsa waved her head sadly to and fro, saying, "I understand." Then,speaking to the girl again, she said, "Now back to the castle, throughthe brush there to the other trail, and then home."
Her own walk was to be longer; and on she went, with the same glidingstep, till, about half a mile further, she turned a little out of thepath to the right; and there, concealed amongst the bushes, she foundan old woman of her tribe, to whom she put the same question, andreceived nearly the same answer.
"Thou art cold, my mother," said Otaitsa, unfastening her mantle, andthrowing it over the old woman; "get thee back with the step of a molethrough the most covered ways thou canst find. How far on is theother?"
"More than a mile," replied the old woman; "close at the foot of therocks."
Otaitsa made no reply, but hastened forward to a spot where someabrupt, but not very elevated, crags rose up out of the midst of thewood. For a moment there seemed no one there; and the trail at thatspot divided into two, one running to the right, and the other to theleft, at the very base of the rocks.
Otaitsa gazed cautiously about. She did not dare to utter a sound; butat length her eye fixed upon a large mass of stone tumbled from thebank above, crested and feathered with some sapling chestnuts. Itseemed a place fit for concealment; and, advancing over some brokenfragments, she was approaching carefully, when again a head wasraised, and a hand stretched out beckoning to her.
Still she trod her way cautiously, taking care not to set her foot onprominent points where the trace might remain, and contriving, as faras possible, to make each bush and scattered tree a screen. At lengthshe reached her companion's place of concealment, and crouched downbehind the rock, by the side of a young woman a few years older thanherself.
"Has he passed?" asked Otaitsa. "Which way did he take?"
"To the east," replied the other; "to the rising sun; but it was notthe brother of the Snake. It was Apukwa, the Bull-rush; and he had awallet with him, but no tomahawk."
"How long is it since he passed?" asked the Blossom, in the same lowtone which they had hitherto used.
"While the crow would fly a mile," answered the young woman. "Has myhusband yet come back?"
"Not so," replied Otaitsa; "but let us both go, for thou art weary forthy home, my sister, and I am now satisfied. Their secret is mine."
"How so?" inquired the other; "canst thou see through the rock withthy bright eyes, Blossom?"
"The cunning medicine-man goes not to pray to his Maneto," answeredOtaitsa, "nor to converse with his Hawenergo. Neither does he wanderforth to fulfil his fasts in the solitude to the east. Yet he willfind no dry deer's-flesh there, my sister; nor any of the fire-waterhe loves so well. But away there, where I have gathered many astrawberry when I was young, there is a deep rift in the rock, whereyou may walk a hundred paces on flat ground with the high crags allaround you. The wild cat cannot spring up, and the deer winks as helooks down. It has but a narrow entrance, for the jaws of the rock arebut half open; and I know now where they have hid my brother. That isenough, for this night, to Otaitsa."
"And what wilt thou do next?" asked her companion.
"Nay, I know not," answered the Blossom. "The sky grows darker--thenight is coming on, and we must follow the setting sun if we would nothave Apukwa see us. We have yet time, for the gloomy place he goes tois two thousand paces further. Come. Be assured, dear sister, I willcall for thy aid when it is needful; and thou wilt as soon refuse itas the flower refuses honey to the bee. Step carefully in the lowplaces, that they see not the tracks of thy feet."
Thus saying, Otaitsa led the way from their place of concealment witha freer air (for she knew that Apukwa had far to go), but with ascautious a tread as ever, lest, returning before the night had fullyfallen, he should see the foot-prints in the snow.
They had been gone about ten minutes, when, creeping silently downalong the trail from the east, the medicine-man appeared at thefurthest corner of the rock within sight; but he was not alone. TheIndian, whom they called the brother of the Snake, was with him. Thelatter, however, remained at the point where he could see both ways,while Apukwa came swiftly forward. At the spot where the trailseparated, he paused, and looked earnestly down upon the ground,bending his head almost to his knees. Then he seemed to tracksomething along the trail towards the Indian Castle; and then, turningback, walked slowly up to the rock, following exactly the path bywhich the two women had returned.
At length he seemed satisfied; and, quickening his pace, he rejoinedhis companion.
"Thou art right, brother," he said. "There were two. What dimmed thineeyes that thou canst not tell who they were?"
"I was far," answered the other; "and there is shadow upon shadow."
"Was not one Otaitsa?" asked the medicine-man, slowly. "Could thebrother of the Snake fail to know the Blossom he loves to look at?"
"If my eyes were not hidden, it was not she," replied his companion."Never did I see the great Sachem's daughter go out, even when the sunhas most fire, without her mantle round her. This woman had none."
"Which woman?" asked Apukwa; "thou saidst there were two."
"One came, two went," replied the other Oneida; "but the secondcould not be the Blossom, for she was tall. The other might have been,but she had no mantle, and she seemed less than Black Eagle'sdaughter--more like Koya, the daughter of the Bear. What were theprint of the moccassins?"
"The snow falls fast; and covers up men's steps, as time covers thetraditions of our fathers," replied the medicine-man; "they were notclear, brother. One was bigger than the other, but that was all Icould see. Yet I scent the Blossom in this thing, my brother. Theworshipper of the God of the pale-faces would save the life of thepale-face, had he made milk of the blood of her brother. She may lovethe boy too well, as her father loved the white woman. She has beenoften there, at the lodge of Prevost, with the pale-face priest or herfather--very often; and she has stayed long. That trail she likes tofollow better than any other; and the Black Eagle may think that hisBlossom is a flower fit to grow by the lodge of the Yengees, and toobeautiful for the red man. Has not my brother dreamed such dreams? hasnot his Maneto whispered to him such things?"
"He has," answered the brother of the Snake, in a tone of sternmeaning; "and my tomahawk is sharp. But we must take counsel on thiswith our brethren, to make sure that there be no double tonguesamongst us. How else should these women see our tracks, when we havecovered them with leaves?"
It is probable that this last expression was used figuratively: notactually to imply that a precaution, very common amongst Indians, hadbeen taken in this case; but that every care had been
used to preventa discovery, by the women of the nation, of any part of theproceedings in regard to poor Walter Prevost.
"My tongue is single," said the brother of the Snake; "and ifI had a double tongue, would I use it when my enemy is under myscalping-knife? Besides, am I not more than my brother?"
And, baring his arm, he pointed with his finger to that small bluestripe which Woodchuck had exhibited on his own arm to Lord H---- inAlbany.
"My brother listens with the ears of the hare," said Apukwa. "TheHonontkoh never betray each other. But there are young men with us whoare not of our order. Some are husbands, some are lovers; and withwomen they are women. Yet we must be watchful not to scatter our ownherd. There must be no word of anger; but our guard must be made moresure. Go thou home to thine own lodge; and to-morrow, while the Eastis still white, let us hold council in the wigwam further down thelake. The home wind is blowing strong, and there will be more snow tocover our trail."
Thus saying, they parted for the night.
But the next morning early, from one of the small fortified villagesof the Indians some miles from their great Castle, no less than sixyoung men set out at different times, and took their way separatelythrough the woods. One said to his wife, as he left her,--
"I go to hunt the moose." And one to his sister, "I go to kill thedeer." And another told his squaw the same story; but she laughed, andanswered,--
"Thou art careful of thy goods, my husband. Truth is too precious athing to be used on all occasions. Thou keepest it for the time ofneed."
The man smiled, and patted her cheek, saying,--
"Keep thine own counsel, wife; and when I lie to thee, seem not toknow it."