CHAPTER XVIII
The snow was falling fast, the early snow of northern America. Otaitsastole forth from the shelter of the great lodge, passed amongst thehuts around, and out into the fields through the opening in thepalisade. She was going where she wished not her steps to be traced,and she knew that the fast falling snow would speedily fill up everyfootprint. Quietly and gracefully she glided on till she reached theedge of the deep wood, and then along a little frequented trail, till,at the distance of about half a mile, her eyes, keenly bent forward,perceived something brown, crouching, still and motionless, undercover of a young hemlock, the branches of which nearly swept theground. As the Blossom approached, a head, covered with glossy blackhair rolled up behind, was raised above a little bush which partly hidthe woman's figure; and, coming nearer, the girl asked, in a lowvoice, "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, "Now I understand;"and then, speaking to the girl again, she said: "Now back to theCastle, through the bush, then 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 farther, 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 amole, through the most covered ways thou canst find. How far on is theother?"
"More than an hour," replied the 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 around.She did not dare to utter a sound; but at length her eye fell upon alarge mass of stone, tumbled from the bank above, crested andfeathered with some sapling chestnuts. It seemed a place fit forconcealment, and advancing over some broken fragments, she wasapproaching carefully, when again a head was raised and a handstretched 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 beautiful young woman a few yearsolder than herself.
"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 Bulrush, 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 could fly out of sight," answered the young woman."Has my husband 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 Manito," answeredOtaitsa, "nor to converse with his Hawenneyo. 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 firewater heloves so well. But away there, where I have gathered many a strawberrywhen I was young, there is a deep rift in the rock, where you may walka hundred paces on flat ground, with the high cliffs all around you.The wildcat cannot spring up, and the deer winks as he looks down. Ithas but a narrow entrance, for the jaws of the rock are half open; andI know now where they have hid my brother. That is enough, for thisnight, 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 farther. 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 little 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 sun had fullyfallen, he should see the footprints in the snow.
They had been gone some ten minutes when, creeping silently down alongthe trail from the east, the medicine man appeared at the farthestcorner of the rock, within sight; but he was not alone. The Indianwhom they called the brother of the Snake was with him. The latter,however, remained at the point where he could see both ways, whileApukwa came swiftly forward. At the spot where the trail separated hepaused and looked earnestly down upon the ground, bending his headalmost to his knees. Then he seemed to track something along the trailtoward the Indian Castle; and then, turning back, walked slowly up tothe rock, following exactly the path by which the two women hadreturned. At length he seemed satisfied, and quickening his pace herejoined his companion. "Thou art right, brother," he said. "Therewere two. What dimmed thine eyes, that thou canst not tell who theywere?"
"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 second couldnot be the Blossom, for she was tall. The other might have been, butshe had no mantle, and seemed less than Black Eagle's daughter--morelike Roya, the daughter of the Bear. What were the prints of themoccasins?"
"The snow falls fast, and covers up men's steps, as time covers thetraditions of our fathers," said 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 palefaces would save the life of thepaleface 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 paleface 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 redman. Has not my brother dreamed such dreams? Hasnot his Manito 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 among Indians had beentaken in this case, but that every care had been used to prevent adiscovery by the women of the nation of any part of the proceedings inregard to Walter Prevost.
"My tongue is single," said the brother of the Snake, "and if Ihad a double tongue, would I use it when my enemy is under myscalping-knife? Besides, am I not more than thy brother?" and, baringhis arm, he pointed with his finger to that small blue stripe whichWoodchuck had exhibited on his own arm to Lord H---- in Albany.
"My brother hears with the ears of the hare," said Apukwa. "TheHonontkoh never betray eac
h 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 farther 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 villages of the Indians, some milesfrom their great Castle, no less than six young men set out atdifferent times and took their way separately through the woods. Onesaid to his wife, as he left her, "I go to hunt the moose;" and one tohis sister, "I go to kill the deer."
An older man told his squaw the same story, but she laughed, andanswered: "Thou art careful of thy goods, my husband. Truth is toogood a thing to be used an all occasions. Thou keepest it for the timeof need."
The man smiled, and stroked her cheek, saying: "Keep thine owncounsel, wife, and when I lie to thee seem not to know it."