“Quarter Moon! Where are you, Quarter Moon?”
Little Elk was shouting for his friend as he trotted through the quiet
Iroquois village.
It was July, and many of the older braves had gone off to fish and hunt.
There were few left in the village except the women, the old men, and
the children. Little Elk was now twelve and he was feeling like a big
warrior more and more each day.
Finally just as Little Elk was about to give up, he heard his friend
answering him from behind his father’s wigwam. “Why do you call so
loudly, Little Elk?”
“Because my mother said that I could go fishing this day and I would
like you, my friend, to go with me. I have a great deal of good fishing
equipment, and there is still one canoe left at the shore of the great
lake. Can you come with me?”
Quarter Moon thought for a moment, especially of the work he was
supposed to do that day. Finally he said, “Wait, I will go and ask my
mother.”
With that he disappeared into the wigwam and in a moment was out again,
smiling.
“My mother says that I may go, but that I must be back when the sun has
climbed to the highest point in the sky. For any day now, my father is
expected back and I have not completed the chores he gave me to do when
he left.”
“Come then,” said Little Elk. “We must hurry.”
The two boys ran to the lake shore and, after placing their fishing
equipment in the canoe, they stepped in and pushed away from the shore.
“We will paddle along the shore,” said Little Elk.
The Indians of the Northeast made fishing tackle from young basswood
saplings and made their hooks from bone. With these they were able to
catch the mighty muskellunge of the northern waters and supplemented
their fresh meat diet with lake fish.
The boys paddled for quite some time before they dropped their lines
into the water. They had picked a good spot because in a matter of
minutes they had several fish in the floor of the canoe. Suddenly,
Little Elk noticed that the canoe had been drifting and he spoke to his
friend about it.
“We should start for home, Little Elk,” Quarter Moon said. “The sun is
climbing high in the heavens. We have many fine fish, and our mothers
will be proud.”
As they picked up their paddles once again, Little Elk looked around to
make sure that they were headed in the right direction. They had been so
busy with their fishing that they had drifted far from where they had
started. Little Elk wasn’t quite sure which direction they should take
to go homeward, for the two boys had never been off by themselves
fishing and for a moment he was confused. Then, looking at the sun, he
decided that they had turned completely around and would have to turn
their canoe once again to be headed in the right direction. And after he
told Quarter Moon, the two boys turned the canoe around and began to
paddle in the direction they were sure was right.
They paddled past several islands and toward the main shore, when
Quarter Moon cried out, “Little Elk, our canoe has sprung a leak.”
Little Elk looked down at his moccasins. The water was beginning to rise
in the canoe. Then Little Elk knew why this old canoe had been left at
the shore of the lake. The bottom was not considered safe. So the canoe
had been left to be repaired and used later on.
“Quarter Moon, we are not too far from the shore. Paddle harder and we
will be able to reach the shore before the canoe fills so full that we
cannot move it.”
So the boys paddled with all their strength and soon felt the bow of the
canoe scrape against the sandy bottom of the lake shore. Jumping out,
the two boys pulled the leaking canoe ashore and up onto the brush.
Looking around, the boys realized that they were in unfamiliar
territory. Neither boy had ever been this far along the shore, but now,
by looking out upon the lake, they guessed that they were some distance
north of their village.
“Well,” said Little Elk, “at least we are not lost, for by following the
shore south, we will come to our village. Come, Quarter Moon! We will
put our fish upon some green sticks and take them with us.”
The boys took their knives and cut out two young branches from nearby
trees; by running the branch through the gills of the fish and out
through the mouth, they were able to carry them comfortably. The boys
then started to follow the shore for home. By this time the sun was
beginning to lower in the sky, and the boys knew that it was getting
quite late. So they hurried along the shore carrying their prize catch
of muskellunge.
When they had gone less than halfway to the village, Quarter Moon
suddenly called out to his faster companion.
“Wait, Little Elk, do not run so fast. I cannot keep up with you. I must
rest.”
The two boys seated themselves on the side of the lake to catch their
breath. It was then that they suddenly heard a noise. Turning around,
Little Elk saw several feathers through the trees. He was about to call
out when a warrior came into his sight and he realized that these were
not Iroquois, but a roving band of Abnakes. Quickly he threw himself to
the ground and pushed Quarter Moon down beside him. Quarter Moon almost
cried out because he was so startled, but Little Elk motioned him to be
still. He pointed into the woods and Quarter Moon could see why Little
Elk had motioned him to be quiet. Then Little Elk counted the Abnakes
who were moving quietly along the trail in single file, headed in the
direction of his village. There were fourteen of them, all tall, strong,
young warriors, each carrying a stout bow and a quiver of arrows.
When the band had passed, Little Elk turned to Quarter Moon and
whispered:
“We must hurry. They are headed in the direction of our village and with
our warriors all gone, there are none but the old men, women, and
children. We must warn the village.”
They jumped up and began to run as fast as they could along the shore
toward their village, forgetting all about their fish and fishing gear,
in their haste to get to their village and warn their people.
Soon they saw smoke from campfires only a few hundred paces ahead. Even
though both boys felt as if their hearts would burst, they forced
themselves to continue running until the wigwams of the village were in
sight. The boys slowed to a trot, and entered the village all out of
breath. They ran straight to the wigwam of Quarter Moon’s uncle and
tried, between gasps for breath, to tell him what they had seen. Finally
Quarter Moon’s uncle raised his hand. “Wait! Wait! My boy, get your
breath and then tell me what has brought you to my wigwam breathing so
heavily and looking like a frightened deer.”
The boys took several deep breaths and then Little Elk told his story to
the old man.
“But we are not at war with the Abnakes and surely we have nothing they
would want in our village. But if this is an attack, we must warn the
others. Go through the village and tell all the others to gather at the
medicine lodge. There are some of us left who can handle weapons. Rather
than give our few supplies or our women to an attacking band of Abnakes,
we will gather every able-bodied man and woman and fight if we have to.”
Word was sent out through the village, and soon everyone gathered at the
medicine lodge. Quarter Moon was ready to repeat to all what he had told
the old brave when Little Elk looked through the fringe in the trees and
spotted some warriors approaching. He was about to shout a warning when
he saw his father in the lead of the party. Little Elk ran to his
father, shouting that the Abnakes were near by. And then he saw,
standing next to his father, a very tall and handsome Abnake. For some
reason, Little Elk felt that this was no ordinary warrior. Then his
father spoke.
“Wait, Little Elk, my son. What is this you say about our village being
invaded?”
Little Elk was embarrassed and looked down at the ground. “My father,
when Quarter Moon and I were returning from our fishing trip, we saw
some Abnakes through the trees. They carried many bows and quivers of
arrows, and they were moving swiftly and quietly toward our village.
Quarter Moon and I ran as fast as we could to warn the village.”
“You did well, my son. But come, I want you to welcome a friend of mine.
This is Chief Big Running Fox of the Abnakes. With him are fourteen of
his finest hunters. Our hunting party searched far and wide for game but
with little success. After many days of searching, we were ready to
start for home, sad and empty handed, when we were met by Chief Big
Running Fox. After explaining to him our presence in Abnake lands, we
were invited to their village, where we received food and shelter for
the night. The next morning Chief Big Running Fox explained that the bad
weather this past spring had driven the game north. The Abnakes had
plenty, but knew that their neighbors to the south would not have much
game. So Chief Big Running Fox let us hunt on the Abnake grounds to get
plenty of meat for our tribe. In return we have invited them here for a
feast to thank them for this great kindness.”
“I am sorry, great chief, that I thought you were going to attack our
village,” said Little Elk, feeling very much ashamed.
Chief Big Running Fox placed his hands upon the boy’s shoulders. “Do not
feel ashamed. It could have been an unfriendly visit and you were right
to warn your people of strangers near your home. Your father can be
proud to have you for a son, and we are glad to have you as a friend.”
The hunting party of Iroquois and Abnakes moved into the village side by
side. That night, instead of war dances, there were happy dances
celebrating their good hunting and finding a new friend. Right in the
center of all the excitement sat Little Elk and Quarter Moon, the heroes
of the day.