— — —
The Iroquois were gone and the village resumed its routines. In a few sentences Three Feathers crushed Friend Seeker's hopeful enthusiasm. "Hummph! Long will it be before the clumsiness of our awkward nephew is seen by the Iroquois." He threw his arms wide, almost choking his disgust. "Away, it is time for frog legs. Beyond Shamokin? For one who may lose his way finding the creek?"
Yet, following his meal of legs and his student's heavy exercise, Three Feathers appeared ready to talk. He signaled Friend Seeker to follow him to a low hill where bugs were fewer and sunlight still warmed the air.
Although Friend Seeker felt the day still too hot for a shirt, the teacher drew a light robe about himself. Then he sat, his eyes distant, as though his thoughts were far, perhaps among times long past. The Seeker was used to such silences and knew that Three Feathers would speak when ready and that his words would be worth the waiting.
Before the raid he had been wearied by Three Feathers. The old man's teachings had seemed pointless droning keeping him from the importance of swimming or exploring. Now he listened with sharpened ear. At bitter cost, he had been shown his own boyish limitations. Now, when Three Feathers chose to speak, Friend Seeker prepared to listen. Surely now the teacher would speak of the Iroquois and perhaps of his student's readiness to journey to the land of the Piscataway.
Three Feathers spoke. His eyes remained unfocused but his words were sharp and Friend Seeker lost himself within them.
"Great were the Delaware. We were proud in our villages and rich with the good things of our land. Then the beaver were many and deer browsed close to our lodges. Our clans strode brave in paint and feathers and our leaders counseled long and reasoned with thoughts unknown to other tribes.
"Great were the warriors of the Delaware who held our lands free of enemy and at peace with our neighbors. Wise were our war chiefs and strong were our warrior societies. We, The People, feared no tribe.
"Among us came chiefs from close and distant lands. They sought the wisdom of the Delaware to cure their ills, to solve their problems, and to counsel their disagreements. To all, the Delaware served as wise counselors and knew honor and respect.
"Then the Mohawk, the Seneca, the Oneida, the Onondaga, and the Cayuga gripped hands and as one turned their spears upon their enemies. They became the nations of the Iroquois. Their numbers were greater than any single enemy and their warriors gained skill and confidence as each enemy fell before the might of their confederacy.
"As their power grew so did their hunger for more and greater victories until finally their war parties flowed even to the lands of the Delaware.
"The Delaware too rose as one. Like panthers among pigeons, we raged among the Iroquois. Thick lay the dead along the war trails and loud rose death cries to the Great Spirit. Like spears, we thrust to the hearts of the war columns and hurled them back upon their own dead and wounded.
"But, if we triumphed in a valley, others unseen slipped past along the ridges. If we killed three, still, one of our people also lay dead. More of them appeared fresh for battle while behind us stood only women and children.
"In time, the Iroquois were all about us. We fought to the north only to be struck from the south. Villages drew together to fight as one, but the enemy picked away until none dared fish or hunt and our warriors became exhausted from constant battle.
"Coup became as nothing in these battles. Wounded and wounded again we rose to fight and kill, for only our few spears defended our lodges. Bitter was the struggle and terrible were the losses. Each day friends fell and exhaustion bore ever heavier.
"There was wailing also in the villages of the Iroquois for they had been too long at war. The sachems of the Five Nations counciled and sent message carriers to our chiefs, The messages spoke of peace and concessions even as we fought on.
"In time the leaders met and bargained like women over fishing places. We, the Delaware, were worn and few. Gone were our many war chiefs; dead and silent were the warrior groups. Wounded and sick and weary were those of us who lived. Yet we stood ready to fight until the last Delaware had flung himself against the wall of Iroquois shields.
"This the Iroquois knew and they wisely searched for another course. From the Delaware, they could take little for all was gone. Honor they could not steal for we would fight and it would die with us. The Iroquois offered peace and freedom on our lands. They would protect our villages and honor our ways. We, in turn, would fight no more."
Three Feathers lowered his chin to his chest, as though exhausted by the memories. He breathed deeply before continuing and this time he chose to hold the eyes of Friend Seeker as though to stress the importance of his next words.
"Much of this you have heard before, but there is a part of the treaty that demands understanding, for few realize its meaning and many mistake its importance. It is important that as a warrior you understand all that our treaty holds.
"In the words of peace, the Iroquois agreed to grant the Delaware status as women within their confederacy. Long did the counselors bargain for this point and none was more wisely selected.
"Some, misunderstanding, think of the Delaware as wise uncles to the Iroquois, but that is only a part of the meaning. A few fools believe being as women is shameful or unmanly. Among the Iroquois, as among the Delaware, heritage is passed from the mother's side. The honored names are traced through the women of the lodges and this is wise, as the women bear the sons and who can truly know of fathers?
"For this reason, our women are honored and respected and their place in things, assured. Though they grow old and weak, never are they cast aside. Their voices are heard and their thoughts listened to with respect and courtesy.
"In this way the Iroquois granted perpetual assurance to The People that our ways will remain secure and our counsel will be valued. Through this treaty we can walk proudly. Never should an Iroquois see a Delaware bend before him, for we have never lost, as they have never won. Our villages lie scattered and too few to recover what once was, but you, Friend Seeker, can stand as tall as your skills allow, for only the Delaware have stood equal to the Iroquois and fought them to an honorable truce.
"The Iroquois are a people of honor. Their word is true and their tongues are straight. If the Delaware were many, we would become a nation of their confederacy as the Tuscarora now do, but we are few. Instead we become more important as thinkers and counselors. Ever more the Iroquois seek our opinions and ideas."
Three Feathers' lined features softened only slightly, but his voice was kind and his eyes, which could crackle with disdain or flare with anger, sorrowed as though his words raised terrible visions. He leaned forward at the waist and extended a talon like hand to cup Friend Seeker's chin as he would a child's. He looked long into the youth's eyes seeking some sign deeply hidden but recognizable to one who had seen before.
Finally he sat back, allowing himself to rest against his tree, relaxing his leaned body with a weariness bone deep and never ending. Perhaps for the first time Friend Seeker understood the true age of his teacher, his closeness to the final sleep, and the intensity of will and spirit that summoned anew ancient enthusiasms to walk ever proudly, to ignore failing abilities, and to devote his few remaining suns to the young of the village.
"Nephew, once I sat before my teachers as you now sit before me. My memory tells me that I then believed strongly in my young abilities and knew that while others might die or fall aside, I would succeed. I could see that I lacked particular skills possessed by others, but I knew that although others might fail, I would somehow prevail.
"I do not know why I believed such foolishness. Perhaps great certainty is a special gift from the Great Spirit for without it a warrior would surely flee from the tasks of learning and the rages of battle. It is plain that you possess the same sureness about which I speak. Though your pain is great and your failures many, your heart knows that in the end Friend Seeker will be triumphant."
Three Feathers sighed
deeply, letting his gaze drift momentarily before continuing. "It is good that your spirit is brave because the moons to come will strain both your body and mind. Your chosen way is bitter with humiliations, and failures will multiply like flies on fish guts. Rewards will be absent and successes too small to measure. So it must be; as a spear is hardened by charring in flames, so must a warrior be toughened until pain and exhaustion beyond standing by ordinary men is as nothing and skills with weapons are developed until the arrow is one with the eye and the war club is part of the arm.
"Still, those are the easy things. Physical pain can be compared, and endurance or strength can be marked and judged. Anguish to the spirit is true bitterness and is still without measure. Does a spirit wound and bleed as does a body? It would seem that it does, for agony of spirit can be true agony. Yet, like a wounded body, does a spirit heal and become as it once was? We have found that it does not. Once touched, the spirit of a man is never again the same.
"The way of the warrior seizes upon the spirit's ability to change. Through humiliations, exhaustion, and continued stress we force the soul to grow and to become different. If we succeed, fear becomes almost unknown. Death itself becomes unimportant, with honor and courage standing before them.
"In so doing we must not destroy the warrior's compassion for others, his love for his people, or his willingness to serve them. If we did, a warrior would be only a mindless weapon and not a protector of his clan and nation.
"From our fathers and their fathers we have learned to build courage. We have learned to grow a warrior's spirit, but we have never discovered an easy way. For a thing to have value, it must be earned. As a fish that is caught is tastier than a fish given, so must the greatest accomplishments be earned through the most demanding of trials.
"I speak now of the true warrior and not of fools wearing eagle feathers and shaking their weapons in friendly faces. Those too are about and are of as little interest as they are of value.
"The true warrior stands above other men as grandly as our Buffalo Mountain towers above a stepping stone. All recognize this as so and respect the warrior for what he has become.
"It would be bright to know that one day all would be finished and Friend Seeker could paint a mark on his body or knot a special braid in his hair and know he was now a true warrior. Many are those who along the path have made such proclamations. They have failed and are of little note.
"I speak of these things to give you strength through bitterness and suffering barely begun. You have chosen the hardest of paths, but others have gone before. If you wish to stand among them you too must bleed and sweat. You must, as others have, endure, and learn, and grow, and change, and endure ever more. The art of the warrior is never mastered. His trail has no end. Until the seasons take his strength he will not know that he has climbed his highest, and even then his thoughts can sharpen and his knowledge grow until an even later time when these too begin to falter. Then the warrior becomes the teacher of the young, for his experience must be passed to those who follow.
"So the true warrior serves until the Great Spirit reaches forth his hand and places him on the final path. Only then are his tasks complete—and who can know what duties lay before the warrior on that great road when all are said to again be at their strongest.
"In the beginning, Friend Seeker vowed only to rescue or avenge his companion Late Star. If he chooses only to learn enough to attempt that duty, he can step aside when he believes he is ready. None will complain.
"It may be that in pointing Friend Seeker along the warrior's path I have chosen for him. It may be that Friend Seeker did not truly wish to make the proudest of journeys. Yet within the breast of Friend Seeker, Three Feathers sees a special heart. Within the spirit of Friend Seeker his teacher finds a strength and purpose given to few. So Three Feathers has chosen to test and temper the courage of his nephew and determine if his vision was clear and if the nephew possesses the warrior's heart."
Three Feathers straightened from his slouch against the tree, his back again hickory erect, his chin held high, his eyes flashing the fires that roused the soul of his student. Raising his fist and continuing in a voice rich with passionate sincerity, he spoke to the mind of Friend Seeker.
"You have risen well to each challenge, my nephew. You have hardened and you have grown. Your change has been great and I commend you for it. Within you lies the ability to become a true warrior, but the way will strain all that you are.
"Fate too can destroy your goal. A wound or a fall can cripple and the race will have been lost, but all men face those dangers.
"Only this time will I tell you that your work is a joy to my heart. Only now will I say that each small victory pleasures the soul of Three Feathers.
"No matter which fork of the path you choose. Three Feathers will be proud to have been the teacher of Friend Seeker. From this place only you can decide, my nephew. There are no easy paths for anyone. Know only that the warrior's path is the hardest of all and those who choose it must be the best of all.
"Finally I say to you, I who have walked the warrior's way found it to be worth every wound and every defeat. For those who can, there should be no other way. If Friend Seeker turns his seasons to the warrior's path he will be welcome as a brother, and when all stride the spirit trail, he will be one with all warriors along the way."
The old teacher allowed his fierceness to fade and dismissed his student with a wearied wave of hand. Friend Seeker slipped quietly away to his favorite log half sunken in the summer turgid creek. He rested against the mossy bark of the fallen giant flipping an occasional pebble into the water and considering the words of Three Feathers. He recognized their importance and chose to consider them well.
The summer had been terrible beyond his imaginings. He flexed an arm, grimly studying the swell of rock hard biceps. His legs stretched before him were even in relaxation corded and fibered. Pinching his waist he found only skin covering plates of clearly defined muscle. He knew with some bitterness that the time had not been wasted.
A trio of smaller children appeared tumbling and rushing along the path. They saw him belatedly and bumped and stumbled to embarrassed and half fearful stillness.
He smiled, easing their uncertainty, and spoke gravely, asking what game they played so deep in the forest?
They replied, coming closer, plainly fascinated to be addressed by one so much older. Encouraged by his friendliness they squatted close and besieged him with questions as though long held dams had burst. Amused, he answered seriously, telling of his training and offering opinions on weighty matters like frog trapping and rabbit snaring. Soon they moved on and he heard their calling from further along the creek.
The children's appearance, too, seemed fortuitous as he gave thought to Three Feather's words of love and compassion. Absorbed in his own tribulations, he had for months gloomed and sullened about the village, oblivious to all else. If before the capture of Late Star a warrior in training had appeared, he would have been thrilled to be noticed by such an exalted personage. In his own introversion he had forgotten how valued a few words could be to others. In his hunger to move on, he had neglected those stretching for limbs he had already passed. He vowed he would not forget again.
If it was a warrior's duty to encourage—perhaps teach—those younger, he would begin now. He grinned inwardly at the memory of the intense, round faces, big eyed and still soft with milk mouths listening so raptly to his words. So it would always be; a few years of age added expertise in the minds of listeners.
His thoughts returned to the words of Three Feathers. He had spoken his encouragements and beliefs from his heart. With a straight tongue, Three Feathers had included the pain and dangers of a warrior's life and he had shown his concern and understanding.
It had been spoken and Three Feathers would again be the harsh taskmaster. Friend Seeker had tasted the pain and he had been told what lay ahead. He alone could decide.
He sought a fist-sized stone
and gripped with ever tightening power until cords and sinews stood along his forearm. He sprang lightly to his feet, jaw muscles tensed, with determination solid in his soul.
Three Feathers' words were good and they brought warmth to his belly, but his mind was already set. He would do whatever was asked. He would strain until his heart ripped from his chest or his eyes leaped from his head, if need be. He would learn and he would grow strong and skillful. Along that way he would go for Late Star. If he survived, he would return to the Juniata or wherever Three Feathers lodged. Raiders would come among the Delaware in other years, but in time a new warrior would be ready, waiting their arrival.
He fined his grip on the stone and with a few quickened steps launched it in a long whippy throw that soared high and far before dropping with a satisfying kaplunk in a deep pool well downstream. Excited voices of the three children reached him as they rushed to the stream edge to investigate the mysterious splash so far from other people.
— — —
Chapter 6
Three Feathers was fond of claiming that a true Delaware warrior could track a fish through a stream or a bird across the sky. All recognized such boasts as exaggerations used to emphasize the importance of following a trail whether animal or enemy. Three Feathers also said the only way to become a good tracker was to track, and this statement he insisted Friend Seeker follow.
Each morning Three Feathers chose a student and dismissed him from the class. The student was instructed to enter the near forest, avoiding all trails where his passing might become confused with other villagers, and attempt to so cleverly hide himself and his trail that Friend Seeker could not find him.
Occasionally the task was easy, as morning dew or an unimaginative youth left clear markings. More often, Three Feathers made the task difficult by waiting until the sun had dried the forest floor or by allowing the rabbit a long lead.
Friend Seeker (Perry County, Pennsylvania Frontier Series) Page 6