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The Sun Maid: A Story of Fort Dearborn

Page 18

by Evelyn Raymond


  CHAPTER XVI.

  THE SHUT AND THE OPEN DOOR.

  "They are all unfitted to take care of themselves, though the girl hasthe best sense of the lot. The Fort is always overfull. They would behappier by themselves, and it will be a blessing to have such a goodman among us. Let us build them a log cabin and instal them in it."

  Such was the Fort commandant's decision and, as he suggested, it wasquickly done. The old maxim of many hands and light work was verified,for in a magically short time the little parsonage was reared and thefew belongings of the household moved into it.

  "That's what it seems to me,"--cried the Sun Maid, as the last strokewas given, and a soldier climbed to the roof-peak to thrust a freshgreen branch into the crevice,--"as if yesterday we dreamed we wanteda home, and now it's ours. If only Wahneenah and Gaspar were here, Ishould be almost too happy to live. Yes, and poor Mercy Smith, whosays she never did have a good time in her life; and Abel, and BlackPartridge; and----"

  "Everybody! I guess you're wanting," reproved the elder son of theminister. For, during the time of building, short though it was, theorphan girl had become wholly identified with the Littlejohns'household and felt as full a right to the cabin as if it had been herown especial property.

  Now, suddenly, as she stood in the doorway there came into her mindthe prophecy of old Katasha; and she looked afar, as if she sawvisions and heard voices denied to the others. So rapt did her gazebecome that little Four stole his pudgy hand into hers and inquired,beneath his breath:

  "What is it, Kitty? What do you see?"

  "I see crowds and crowds of people. Of all sorts, all forms, allcolors, all races. Crowding, crowding, and yet not crushing. Onlycoming, more--and more--and more. I see strange buildings. Bigger thanany pictures in that book you showed me yesterday. They keep risingand spreading out on every side. I see ships on the lake; curiousones, with tall masts, a hundred times taller than that in which myGaspar sailed away. They are so laden with people and stuff thatI--I--it seems to choke me!"

  She did not notice that the Doctor had drawn near and was listeningintently; and even when his hand touched her shoulder she found itdifficult to comprehend what he was saying.

  "Wake up, lassie! Why, what is this? My practical new daughter growinga star-gazer, like the foolish old man? That won't do for our littlehousekeeper."

  "Won't it, sir? I guess I've been dreaming. But I know I shall see allthat some day, right here in this spot. This is the lake where the bigships sail, and this the ground where the houses stand."

  One was at hand with his ever-ready reproof.

  "That's all nonsense, Kitty Briscoe. A person can't see more than aperson can. There are neither houses nor ships, such as you talkabout, and you are sillier than any fairy story I ever read."

  Yet long afterward he was to remember that first hour in the new home,and the rapt face of the girl gazing skyward.

  Then they all went in to supper, which had been provided by thethoughtful friends at the Fort across the river; but which, the SunMaid assured the busy women there, must be the only meal supplied thatwas ready prepared.

  "For, if I'm to be housekeeper I mean to learn all about that, evenbefore I do the books, which the Doctor will teach me and that I am soeager to study. But I'll be his home-maker first, and I'll give themjonny-cake for breakfast. Mercy said it was cheap and wholesome, andwe have to be very careful of the Doctor's little money."

  How wholesome, rather how most unwholesome, that first jonny-cakeproved, Kitty never after liked to recall; but she was not the onlyyoung house mistress who has made mistakes; and, fortunately, themaster of the house was not critical. And how far the study-cravinggirl would have carried out her own plan of housewifery before readingis not known; for, having done the best she could, and having, atleast, swept and dusted the rooms carefully she took little Four bythe hand and set out to ask instruction of her Fort friends againstthe dinner-getting.

  Now the fascinating dread and interest of this little fellow was anIndian; and, trudging along through the dirt, he scanned the horizoncritically, then suddenly gripped her hand hard and tight.

  "Kitty! I do believe--there are--some coming! Run! Run!"

  "Why should I run? The Indians are my best and oldest friends. Itmight even be----"

  She paused so long, shading her eyes from the sunlight and gazingfixedly across the landscape with a gathering surprise and delightupon her face, that the child clutched her frock, demanding:

  "What is it, Kitty? What do you see? What do you see?"

  "The horses! White, black, and--Chestnut! It's Wahneenah! Wahneenah!"

  Four watched her disappear behind a clump of bushes that hid thesandhills from his lower sight, then hurried back to the new cabin,crying out:

  "Father, father! She's run away again! We've lost her!"

  Before the minister could be made to comprehend his son's excitedstory, voices without drew him to the entrance. Even to him the nameof Indian had, in those days, a sinister significance. Yet, as hereached the threshold, there were the Sun Maid's arms about his neckand her ecstatic declaration:

  "It's my darling Other Mother! She's come! She'll live with us! Andthe Black Partridge; and Osceolo, and Tempest, and Snowbird, and theChestnut! Oh, all together again; how happy we shall be!"

  "Eh? What? Yes, yes, of course," assented the Doctor, though he cast arather perplexed glance about his limited apartments. "Well, if it'sto be part of my work, I am ready," he added resignedly, and notwithout thought of the quiet study which would be out of the questionin a tenement so crowded.

  The chief and the clergyman had met before, during the former's lastvisit to the Fort, and they greeted each other suavely, as would twowhite gentlemen of culture and unquestioned standing. Then, while theSun Maid drew Wahneenah aside and exhibited the cabin, the two mentalked together and rapidly became friends.

  "The Lord never shuts one door but He opens another. I came here toinstruct, hoping to pass far onward into the wilderness. Behold! theheathen are at my very threshold. He took away my wife and sent me adaughter. Now, at her heels, follows a woman of the race I came tohelp, who looks more noble than most of her white sisters. As the SunMaid said, shall we not do? Only--where to house them?"

  "That is soon settled. Neither the chief's daughter nor the youth,Osceolo, could sleep beneath the tight roof of the pale-face. Theirwigwams shall be pitched behind this cabin, and there will they abide.So will I arrange with the people at the Fort, who are my friends.Yet, let the great medicine-man keep a sharp eye to the young brave,Osceolo. He is my kinsman. There is good in the youth, and there is,also, evil--much evil. He lies upon the ground to dream wild schemes,then rises up to practise them. He is like the pale-faces--by birth aliar. He is not to be trusted. Only by fear does he become as clay inthe hands of the potter. If my brother, the great medicine-man, willaccept this charge I ask of him there shall be always venison inplenty, and bear's meat, and the flesh of cattle, at his door. Heshall have corn from the fields of the scattered Pottawatomies, andthe fuel for his hearth-fire shall never waste. How says my brother,the wise medicine-man?"

  "What can I say but that the Black Partridge is as generous as he isbrave, and that his readiness to support a minister of the gospelamazes me? In that more settled East, from which I came, the rich mengave grudgingly to their pastor of such things as themselves did notneed, and I was always in poverty. Therefore, for the sake of my sons,I came hither. Truly, in this wilderness, I have received evil at thehand of the Lord; but I have, also, received much good. If He wills,from this humble tenement shall go forth a blessing that cannot bemeasured. Leave the woman and the undisciplined youth with me. I willdeal with them as I am given wisdom."

  This was the beginning of a new, rich life for the Sun Maid. It openedto Wahneenah, also, a period of unbroken happiness. The minister, overwhose household affairs she promptly assumed a wise control, honoredher with his confidence and abided by her clear-sighted counsel. Shewas constantly associated with
her beloved Girl-Child, and could watchthe rapid development of her intellect and all-loving heart.

  Indeed, Love was the keynote to Kitty Briscoe's character; and out oflove for everybody about her, and especially in hope to be of use toher Indian friends, sprang the greatest incentive to study.

  "The more I know, the better I can help them to understand," she saidto Wahneenah, who agreed and approved.

  The years sped quietly and rapidly by, as busy years always do. Somechanges came to the little settlement of Chicago, but they were onlyfew; until, one sunny day in spring, there reached the ears of the SunMaid a sudden cry that seemed to turn all the months backward, as ascroll is rolled.

  Bending above her table, strewn with the Doctor's notes which she wascopying, in the pleasant room of a big frame house that was one of thefew new things of the town, she heard the call; dimly at first, as anout-of-door incident which did not concern herself. When it wasrepeated, she started visibly, and cried out:

  "I know that voice! That's Mercy Smith! There was never another justlike it!"

  She sprang up and ran to answer, shouting in return:

  "Halloo! What is it?"

  "Help!"

  A few rods' run beyond the clump of trees that bordered the gardenrevealed the difficulty. A heavy wagon, loaded with bags of grain, wasmired in the mud of the prairie road. A woman stood upright in thevehicle, lashing and scolding the oxen, which tried, but failed, toextricate the wheels from the clay that held them fast.

  "I'm coming! I'm Kitty! And, Mercy--is it really you?"

  "Well, if I ain't beat! You're Kitty, sure enough! But what a size!"

  "Yes. I'm a woman now, almost. How glad I am to see you! How's Abel?Where is he?"

  "Must be glad, if you'd let so many years go by without once comin' tovisit me."

  "I didn't know that you'd be pleased to have me. I didn't treat youwell, to leave you as I did. But where's Abel?"

  "Home. Trying to sell out. My land! How pretty you've growed! Onlythat white dress and hair a-streamin'; be you dressed for a party,child?"

  "Oh, no, indeed! I'll run and get something to help you out with, ifyou'll be patient."

  "Have to be, I reckon, since I'm stuck tight. No hurry. The oxen'llrest. I've heard about you, out home--how 't you'd found a richminister to take you in an' eddicate you, an' your keepin' half-Indianstill. Might have taught you to brush your hair, I 'low; an' fromappearances you'd have done better to have stayed with me. You hain'tgrowed up very sensible, have you?"

  The Sun Maid laughed, just as merrily and infectiously as when she hadfirst crept for shelter into Mercy Smith's cabin.

  "Maybe not. I'm not the judge. I'll test my wisdom, though, by tryingto help you out of that mud. I'll be back in a moment."

  She turned to run toward the house, but Mercy remonstrated:

  "You can't help in them fine clothes. Ain't there no men around?"

  "A few. Most of them are out of the village on a big hunting frolic.We'll manage without."

  "Humph! They'd better be huntin' Indians."

  The girl looked up anxiously. "Is there any trouble?"

  "Always trouble where the red-skins are."

  Kitty departed, and the settler's wife watched her with feelings ofmingled admiration, anger, and astonishment.

  "She's grown, powerful. Tall an' straight as an Indian, an' fair as asnowflake. Such hair! I don't wonder she wears it that way, though Iwouldn't humor her by lettin' on. I've heard she did it to please her'tribe' an' the old minister. Well, there's always plenty of fools.They're a crop 'at never fails."

  The Sun Maid reappeared. She had not stopped to change her white gown,but she brought a pair of snow-shoes, and carried three or four shortplanks across her strong, firm shoulder.

  "My sake! Ain't you tough! I couldn't lift one them planks, rugged asI call myself, let alone four. But--snow-shoes in the springtime?"

  "Yes. I've learned a way for myself of helping the many who get miredout here. See how quickly I can set you free."

  Putting on the shoes, the girl walked straight over the mud, andthrowing down the planks before the animals, encouraged them to helpthemselves.

  "What are their names? Jim and Pete? Come on, my poor beasts; and,once clear, you shall have a fine rest and feed."

  "Shucks! There! Go on! Giddap! Gee! Haw!"

  There followed a time of suspense, but at last the oxen gained alittle advance, when Kitty promptly moved the planks forward, and indue time the wagon rolled out upon a firmer spot.

  "Well, Kitty girl, you may not have sense, but you've got what'sbetter--that's gumption. And that's Chicago, is it?"

  "Yes. I hope you like it."

  "I've got to, whether or no. I'm in awful trouble, Kitty Briscoe, an'it's all your fault."

  "What can you mean?"

  "Abel--Abel----"

  "Yes--yes! What is it?"

  "Ever sence you run away he's been pinin' to run after you. Said thehouse wasn't home no more. 'Twasn't; though I wouldn't let on to him.We've kept gettin' comfortabler off, an' I jawed him from mornin' tonight to make him contented. But he wouldn't listen. Got so hewouldn't work home if he could help it, but lounged round theneighbors'. Got hankerin' to go somewheres, an' keep tavern, like hisfather afore him. Now, we've got burnt out----"

  "Burned out! Oh, Mercy, that _is_ trouble, indeed! Tell me--No, wait.Let us go and get something to eat first; and what were you intendingto do with that load of stuff?"

  "Ship it East, if I can. I've heard there was consid'able thatbusiness bein' done. Or sell it to the Fort folks."

  "I think they'll be glad of it; they are always needing everything.I'll go with you there, and your team can be left there, too, tillAbel comes."

  "Abel! You don't think I'd leave him to manage _business_, do you?"

  "I thought you said he was now staying behind to sell out--to'manage.'"

  "He's stayin' to try. There's a big difference 'twixt tryin' an'doin'. He can't sell, not easy. And some day, when this whim of hisis over, we'll go back an' settle again, or move farther on. It'sgettin' ruther crowded where we be for comfort, these days."

  "Crowded? Are there many new neighbors?"

  "Lots. Some of 'em ain't more 'n a mile away, an' I call that tooclose for convenience. Don't like to have folks pokin' their nosesinto my very door-yard, so to speak."

  "How will you endure it here, where, according to your ideas, thehouses are so very close?"

  "I don't expect to like it. But, pshaw! They be thick, ain't they? Ideclare it makes me think of out East, an' our village; only thatwasn't built on the bottomless pit, like this."

  "This is the Fort. After you've finished your business with theofficer in charge, we'll go home and get our dinner."

  The stranger observed with surprise and some pride the great respectwith which this girl, who had once been under her own care, wastreated by all she met. The few soldiers on duty that morning salutedher with a smile and military precision, while the women hailed hercoming with exclamations of:

  "Oh, Kitty! You here? I'm so glad; for I wanted to ask you about mywork"; or: "Say, Kit! There are a lot of new newspapers, only a weekold, that I've hidden for you to read first before the others get holdof them."

  One called after her, as they started homeward:

  "How are the sick ones to-day?"

  "What did she mean?" demanded Mercy.

  "Oh, that house on the edge of the village is a sort of hospital andschool combined. I am there most of the time, though my real home iswith the Littlejohns, just as it has always been; though the Doctor isnot rich, as you fancied, in anything save wisdom and goodness."

  "You're a great scholar now, Kitty, I s'pose--could even do figurin'an' writin' letters."

  "I can do that much without being a 'scholar.' I've learned all sortsof things that came my way, from civil engineering--enough to surveylots for people--to a little Greek. The surveying was taught me by aman who was in our sick-room, and in gratitude for the care we
gavehim. It's very useful here."

  "Can you sing, or play music?"

  "I always sang, you know; and I can play the violin to guide the hymns'in meeting.'"

  "What's that? A fiddle--to hymns!"

  "Yes. Why not, since it's the only instrument we have?"

  "My land! You'll be dancin' at worship next!"

  "Maybe. There _are_ religious people who dance at their services. Buthere we are. This is the Doctor's house, and you'll meet Wahneenah."

  "Wahneeny! You don't tell me that good, pious parson is consortin'with that bad-tempered Indian squaw!"

  "Wait, Mercy. You must not speak like that of her, nor think so.She is as my very own mother. She is nobility itself. Everybodyacknowledges that. I want there should be peace, even if there can'tbe love, between you two. It's better, isn't it, to understand thingin the beginning?"

  "Hmm! You can speak your mind out yet, I see. But that's all right. Idon't care, child. I don't care. It does my old eyes good just to lookat you; an', for once, I'll 'low Abel was right in wantin' to move outhere. I'm lookin' for him 'fore night, by the way. But hold on! Who'sthat out in the back yard, with feathers in his hair, an' a blue checkshirt, grinnin' like a hyena, an' a knife stickin' out his pocket?Wait till I get hold of him, my sake!"

  Mercy's words poured out without breathing-space or stop, and the SunMaid laughed as she replied:

  "Why, that's only Osceolo. Do you know him?"

  "Kitty Briscoe! All the wild horses in Illinois can't make me believeno different but 'twas him set our barn afire!"

  "When? He's not been away--for some days."

  "Wait till he catches sight of me!"

  But when the young Indian did turn around, and saw the pair watchinghim, he coolly walked toward them, regarding Mercy as if she were anutter stranger, and one whom he was rather pleased to meet.

  "Friend of yours, Sun Maid? Glad to see her."

  "Glad to see me, be you? Wait till Abel Smith comes an' identifiesyou. Then see which side the laugh's on, you--you----"

  "Osceolo is my name, ma'am."

  Foreseeing difficulties, the girl guided her guest into the kitchen,where Wahneenah was preparing dinner, and where the Indian womangreeted her old acquaintance with no surprise and, certainly, withoutany of the effusiveness that, for once, rather marked Mercy's mannertoward her former "hired girl."

  "Well, it's a real likely house, now, ain't it? I'd admire to see theminister. It's years since I saw one. Is he about?"

  Kitty answered:

  "Yes. He is studying. I rather hate to disturb him; but at dinner youwill meet him."

  "Studying! Studying what? Why, I thought he was an old man."

  "He is. So old, I sometimes fear we will not have him with us long."

  "What's the use learnin' anything more, then?"

  "One can never know too much, I fancy. Just at present he is writing adictionary of the Indian dialects, so far as he has been able toobtain them."

  "The--Indian--language! He wouldn't be so silly, now come!"

  "He is just so wise. It is a splendid work. I am proud to be hishelper, even by just merely copying his papers."

  "Well! You could knock me down with a feather! One thing--I sha'n'tnever set under his preachin'. I wouldn't demean myself. The idee!"

  "Mercy, do you remember the red-covered Bible? Have you it still?"

  "Course. I wouldn't let anything happen to that. It was a reward ofmerit. It's wrote in the front: 'To Mercy Balch, for being a GoodGirl.' That was me afore I was married. It's in my carpet-bag. I meanto have it buried with me. I wouldn't never spile it by handlin'."

  "I hope you'll use it now, for it's so easy to get another. The Doctorwill give you one at any time. The Bible Society in the Eastfurnishes all he needs."

  Dinner was promptly ready, and, after it was over, the Sun Maidcarried her old friend away with her to the government building, whichwas not only hospital, but schoolhouse and land-office all in one.Everything here was so new and interesting to Mercy that surprise kepther silent; until, happening to glance through the window, she behelda rough-looking man approaching on horseback.

  "Pshaw! there's Abel! Wait an' see him stick where I stuck!" shechuckled. "Well, he sold out sudden, didn't he? He'd better come inthe wagon, but he 'lowed he'd enjoy a ride all by himself. I reckonhe's had it. See him stare and splash! There he goes! See that old nagflounder!"

  Kitty sprang up and ran to welcome him, the heartiest of love in herclear tones.

  "Why, bless my soul! If I thought it could be, I should say it was myown lost little Kit!"

  As he gazed his rugged face grew beautiful in its wondering joy.

  "Oh, Abel! That's the way Chicago receives her new citizens! Sheplants them so deep in the mud that they can't get away! But wait.I'll help you out the same way I did Mercy, and then I'll get my armsabout your neck, you dear old Abel!"

  "Help me out? Not much! Not when there's such a pretty girl a few feetaway waitin' to kiss my homely face!" and, with a spring that wasmarvellous to see, the woodsman leaped from his horse and landed onthe higher sod beside his "Kit."

  "Well, well! To think it! Just to think it once! Well, well, well! Howbig you are, Kit! My, my, my; and as sweet to look at as a locust treein bloom, with your white frock, an' all. I've got here at last! Ican't scarce believe it. And, lassie, are you as close-mouthed as youused to be when you made a promise? Then--don't tell Mercy; but--_Idone it a-purpose_!"

  "Did what? Let us get the poor horse out of the mud before we talk."

  "Shucks! He ain't worth pullin' out. If he ain't horse enough to helphimself, let him stay there a spell, an' think it over. He'll flounderround----"

  "You don't know our mud, Abel."

  "He's all right. He's helpin' himself. He's makin' a genu_ine_ effort.A man--or horse--that does that is sure to win. That's how I put it tomyself. After I'd wrastled with the subject up hill an' down dale,till I couldn't see nothin' else in the face of natur', I done it. Outin the East, where I come from, they'd 'a' had me up for it; an' Idon't know but they will here. But I had to, Kit, I had to. I wasdead sick an' starvin' for a sight of you an' the boy, an' mis'ablewith blamin' myself that I hadn't treated you different when I hadyou, so you wouldn't have run away. You was a master hand at thatbusiness, wasn't you, girl? I hope you've quit now, though."

  "I think so. Here I was born, and here I hope to stay. All my runningshave begun and ended here. But what did you do, Father Abel?"

  "Oh, Sis! that name does me good. Promise you'll never tell,--not tillyour dyin' day."

  "I can't promise that; but I'll not tell if I can help it."

  "Well, you always had a tender conscience. Yet I can trust your lovebetter 'n ary promise. Well--_I--burnt--it!_"

  "Burned it? Your house? Your home? Yours and Mercy's? Why--Abel!"

  The pioneer squared his mighty shoulders, and faced her as a defiantchild might an offended mother.

  "Yes, I did. The house, the bed-quilts, the antiquated bedstead, thewhole endurin' business. It was the only way. Year after year she'dkeep naggin' for me to move on further into the wilderness. _Me_,that was starvin' for folks, an' knew she was! It was just plumblonesomeness made her what she is: a nagger. So, at last--you've heardabout worms turnin', hain't you? I watched, an' when she'd gonetrudgin' off on a four-mile tramp, pretendin' somebody's baby wassick, but really meanin' she was that druv to hear the sound ofanother woman's voice, I took pity on her--an' myself--an' setfire to that hateful old heirloom of a bedstead; an' whilst it wasburnin' I just whipped out the old fiddle, an' I played--my! howI played! Every time a post fell into the middle, I just danced.'So much nearer folks!' I thought. And the rag-carpet an' thenineteen-hunderd-million-patch-bedspread--Kit, I've set there, dayafter day, an' seen Mercy cuttin' up whole an' decent rags, an' sewin''em together again, till I've near gone stark mad. Fact. I used towonder if it wasn't a sort of craziness possessed her to do thatfoolishness. Now, it's all over. She lays the fire to an Indian fellerth
at I've spoke fair to, now an' again, an' that had been round ourway huntin' not long before. I don't know where he come from, an' Inever asked him. He never told. Pretended he couldn't talk Yankee.Don't know as he could, but he could talk chicken or little pig fastenough. Leastways, I missed such after he'd been there. Well, itwasn't him. _It was--me!_ I burnt the bedstead, an' now we'refree folks!"

  "But, Abel, why not have brought the bedstead with you, if she lovedit so? Why destroy----"

  "Sissy, you don't know Mercy--not as I do. It was that furniture kepther. So long as she had it, so long as she could kind of boast it overher neighbors, there she'd set. We couldn't have moved it. She nearworried herself into her grave gettin' it into the wilderness, firstoff, an' she ain't so young now as she was then. She'd ruther lost aleg than had it scratched. I saved that load of feed, an' the ox team,an' the old horse. Yes, an' my fiddle. Mercy's got money. She had ithid. I'm goin' to settle here an' keep tavern, if I can. If not here,then somewheres else. Anywhere where there's folks. Trees are nice;prairies are nice; a clearin' of your own is nice; but human natur' isnicer. Don't tell Mercy, though, or there'll be trouble! Now, Kit,where's Gaspar?"

  "_Oh, Abel! Only the dear Lord knows!_"

 

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