"Truly?" she stammered, not reaching out her hand, for fear I should draw it away again to plague her.
I dropped the knife into her lap among the marbles, thrilling at the spectacle of my own generosity.
She seized it, repeating:
"King, King, double King!
Can"t take back a given thing!"
"You needn"t say "King, King, double King,"" said I, offended; "for I was not going to take it back, silly!"
"Truly, Michael?" she asked, looking up at me. Then she added, sweetly, "I am sorry I bit you."
"Ho!" said I, "do you think you hurt me?"
She said nothing, playing with the marbles in her lap.
I sat and watched the bees fly to and fro like bullets; in the quiet even the hills, cloaked in purple mantles, smoked with the steam of hidden snow-drifts still lingering in ravines where arbutus scents the forest twilight.
The robins had already begun their rippling curfew call; crickets creaked from the planked walk. Behind me the voices of Peter and Esk rose in childish dispute or excited warning to "Knuckle down hard!"
Already the delicate spring twilight stained the east with primrose and tints of green. A calm star rose in the south.
Presently Silver Heels pinched me, and I felt around to pinch back.
"Hush," she whispered, jogging my elbow a little, "there is a strange Indian between us and the block-house. He has a gun, but no blanket!"
For a moment a cold, tight feeling stopped my breath, not because a strange Indian stood between me and the block-house, but because of that instinct which stirs the fur on wild things when taken unawares, even by friends.
My roughened skin had not smoothed again before I was on my feet and advancing.
Instantly, too, I perceived that the Indian was a stranger to our country. Although an Iroquois, and possibly of the Cayuga tribe, yet he differed from our own Cayugas. He was stark naked save for the breech-clout. But his moccasins were foreign, so also was the pouch which swung like a Highlander"s sporran from his braided clout-string, for it was made of the scarlet feathers of a bird which never flew in our country, and no osprey ever furnished the fine snow-white fringe which hung from it, falling half-way between knee and ankle.
Observing him at closer range, I saw he was in a plight: his flesh dusty and striped with dry blood where thorns had brushed him; his eyes burning with privation, and sunk deep behind the cheek-bones.
As I halted, he dropped the rifle into the hollow of his left arm and raised his right hand, palm towards me.
I raised my right hand, but remained motionless, bidding him lay his rifle at his feet.
He replied in the Cayuga language, yet with a foreign intonation, that the dew was heavy and would dampen the priming of his rifle; that he had no blanket on which to lay his arms, and further, that the sentinels at the block-houses were watching him with loaded muskets.
This was true. However, I permitted him to advance no closer until I hailed a soldier, who came clumping out of the stables, and who instantly c.o.c.ked and primed his musket.
Then I asked the strange Cayuga what he wanted.
"Peace," he said, again raising his hand, palm out; and again I raised my hand, saying, "Peace!"
From the scarlet pouch he drew a little stick, six inches long, and painted red.
"Look out," said I to the soldier, "that is a war-stick! If he shifts his rifle, aim at his heart."
But the runner had now brought to light from his pouch other sticks, some blood-red, some black ringed with white. These he gravely sorted, dropping the red ones back into his pouch, and navely displaying the black and white rods in a bunch.
"War-ragh-i-ya-gey!" he said, gently, adding, "I bear belts!"
It was the t.i.tle given by our Mohawks to Sir William, and signified, "One who unites two peoples together."
"You wish to see Chief Warragh," I repeated, "and you come with your pouch full of little red sticks?"
He darted a keen glance at me, then, with a dignified gesture, laid his rifle down in the dew.
A little ashamed, I turned and dismissed the soldier, then advanced and gave the silent runner my hand, telling him that although his moccasins and pouch were strange, nevertheless the kin of the Cayugas were welcome to Johnson Hall. I pointed at his rifle, bidding him resume it. He raised it in silence.
"He is a belt-bearer," I thought to myself; "but his message is not of peace."
I said, pleasantly:
"By the belts you bear, follow me!"
The dull fire that fever kindles flickered behind his shadowy eyes. I spoke to him kindly and conducted him to the north block-house.
"Bearer of belts," said I, pa.s.sing the sentry, and so through the guard-room, with the soldiers all rising at attention, and into Sir William"s Indian guest-room.
My Cayuga must have seen that he was fast in a trap, yet neither by word nor glance did he appear to observe it.
The sun had set. A chill from the west sent the shivers creeping up my legs as I called a soldier and bade him kindle a fire for us. Then on my own responsibility I went into the store-room and rummaged about until I discovered a thick red blanket. I knew I was taking what was not mine; I knew also I was transgressing Sir William"s orders. Yet some instinct told me to act on my own discretion, and that Sir William would have done the same had he been here.
A noise at the guard door brought me running out of the store-room to find my Cayuga making to force his way out, and the soldiers shoving him into the guest-room again.
"Fall back!" I cried, my wits working like shuttles; and quickly added in the Cayuga tongue: "Cayugas are free people; free to stay, free to go. Open the door for my brother who fears his brother"s fireside!"
There was a silence; the soldiers stood back respectfully; a sergeant opened the outer door. But the Indian, turning his hot eyes on me, swung on his heel and re-entered the guest-room, drawing the flint from his rifle as he walked.
I followed and laid the thick red blanket on his dusty shoulders.
"Sergeant," I called, "send McCloud for meat and drink, and notify Sir William as soon as he arrives that his brothers of the Cayuga would speak to him with belts!"
I was not sure of the etiquette required of me after this, not knowing whether to leave the Cayuga alone or bear him company. Tribes differ, so do nations in their observance of these forms. One thing more puzzled me: here was a belt-bearer with messages from some distant and strange branch of the Cayuga tribe, yet the etiquette of their allies, our Mohawks, decreed that belts should be delivered by sachems or chiefs, well escorted, and through the smoke of council fires never theoretically extinguished between allies and kindred people.
One thing I of course knew: that a guest, once admitted, should never be questioned until he had eaten and slept.
But whether or not I was committing a breach of etiquette by squatting there by the fire with my Cayuga, I did not know.
However, considering the circ.u.mstances, I called out for a soldier to bring two pipes and tobacco; and when they were fetched to me, I filled one and pa.s.sed it to the Cayuga, then filled the other, picked a splinter from the fire, lighted mine, and pa.s.sed the blazing splinter to my guest.
If his ideas on etiquette were disturbed, he did not show it. He puffed at his pipe and drew his blanket close about his naked body, staring into the fire with the grave, absent air of a cat on a wintry night.
Now, stealing a glance at his scalp-lock, I saw by the fire-light the stumps of two quills, with a few feather-fronds still clinging to them, fastened in the knot on his crown. The next covert glance told me that they were the ragged stubs of the white-headed eagle"s feathers, and that my guest was a chief. This set me in a quandary.
What was a strange Cayuga chief doing here without escort, without blanket, yet bearing belts? Etiquette absolutely forbade a single question. Was I, in my inexperience, treating him properly? Would my ignorance of what was due him bring trouble and difficulty to Sir William when he returned?
Suddenly resolved to clear Sir William of any suspicion of awkwardness, and at the risk of my being considered garrulous, I rose and said: