AH-MO, THE DAUGHTER OF PONTIAC
The day just concluded had been one of unhappiness and anxiety for the
great Ottawa chieftain. The rumored defection of his Wyandot allies
was proved true. The safe arrival at the fort of Dalzell's expedition
was the most deadly blow yet struck at his cherished project. To crown
all, he was not on the best of terms with his sole remaining allies,
the fierce and warlike Ojibwas. These had no more desire than the
Wyandots to fight on a losing side; and, moreover, they had a private
grievance of long standing against Pontiac. It arose from the capture
of one of their chiefs by the English, and the refusal of Pontiac to
offer Major Hester in exchange for him.
Firm in his belief that Detroit must eventually fall into his hands,
and that every soul within its walls would be killed, the Ottawa chief,
intent on saving the life of the white man who had once saved his,
refused to restore him to a place of such peril. In vain did the
Ojibwa captive--who was no other than our old acquaintance, Mahng--send
messages by the French settlers, who carried occasional communications
between the fort and the Ottawa village, threatening that, if Major
Hester were not exchanged for him, he would influence his tribe to make
peace with the English. Pontiac only sent answer that the major was
not his prisoner, but his guest, and therefore not subject to exchange,
but that the first captive of sufficient consequence who should be
brought in should be offered in his place.
When, therefore, Edith Hester and Madam Rothsay reached the village,
Pontiac conceived the project of presenting the latter before the gates
of Detroit, and demanding the release of the Ojibwa chief in her stead.
To the grief of Madam Rothsay herself, and of the beautiful charge from
whom she was thus separated, this plan was at once carried out, with
the result that Mahng was restored to his followers. He was, however,
more imbittered than ever against Pontiac, not only on account of his
long imprisonment, but because of a woman having been offered and
accepted in exchange for him.
This was not only a severe blow to his own pride, but to that of his
people; and they became clamorous to have the insult avenged, for which
purpose Mahng demanded that Major Hester be delivered to them, to do
with as they pleased. This demand was refused with such indignant
scorn that Mahng's evil face became black with fury; and, though he
strode from Pontiac's presence in silence, his heart was filled with
rage. This was intensified a few days later when the Ottawa chief
upbraided him, and charged him with superstitious cowardice for aiding
the escape of a white prisoner who had been condemned to death. In
this case, Mahng had felt certain that Paymaster Bullen, carefully
disguised as an Indian, would be fired upon and killed by the garrison
of the fort, as he approached it, and was as disgusted as any one could
be by the unexpected result of that experiment.
Distressed as Edith Hester was at being separated from Madam Rothsay,
she rejoiced at the latter's restoration to the protection of British
troops, and became reconciled to her own prolonged captivity when she
found that she was to be allowed to spend it in the company of her
beloved father.
Although the brave old major chafed like a caged lion at his enforced
detention in Pontiac's camp, he bore it without a murmur, and strove to
aid the cause of his countrymen by endeavoring to impress upon the
Ottawa leader the folly of resistance to the English. He knew nothing
of his daughter's captivity, nor even of her departure from New York,
until one evening, as he sat alone in the room assigned to his use, the
door was gently opened, and she stood before him in all the radiancy of
her youth and beauty. For a moment he stared as though at a vision,
but as she stepped forward he opened wide his arms, and father and
daughter were reunited in a fond embrace. There were so many questions
to be asked and answered, so much news to be told, and so many
conjectures to be made concerning their ultimate fate, that, for more
than an hour, they talked oblivious of everything, save the joy of
being together. Then Edith exclaimed in dismay:--
"If I haven't forgotten poor Ah-mo, and left her waiting outside all
this time, when I said I'd be back in a few minutes! May I fetch her,
father? She is one of my dearest friends, and I want you to know her."
"Certainly, my dear," answered the major, with a smile. "Bring her in,
by all means; for any friend of yours must needs be a friend of mine as
well."
A moment later, when the Indian girl, who had waited patiently all this
time, was led into the bare little room, it was Edith's turn to be
surprised. Instead of receiving her as a stranger, Major Hester
greeted her as a friend whose absence had been a source of genuine
regret.
"It is good to see you once more, Ah-mo," he said. "Though, had I
known the nature of the errand that caused your absence, my anxiety for
your return had been doubled many times. Now I have to bless you and
thank you for your brave care of my dear girl, who has, all unknown to
me, passed through so many recent perils."
"Then you knew Ah-mo before, papa!" exclaimed Edith; "and all this time
she never told me."
"Nor did she tell me that she was going in search of you, for which I
am now grateful, since it saved me a painful anxiety," replied the
major. "Yes; Ah-mo and I are old friends, and, of late, many an hour,
that would otherwise have hung heavily on my hands, has been lightened
by her visits. Forest maiden as she is, I find her to be well versed
in polite literature, and possessed of a shrewd knowledge of affairs,
though, above all, has she learned the value of a silent tongue."
"Yes, indeed!" cried impulsive Edith. "Even during our short
acquaintance I have discovered that, in many things which I ought to
know, her knowledge is superior to mine; that for keeping a secret she
has no equal; and that with it all she is one of the dearest and
sweetest and most lovable girls I ever met."
Then, seeing that her friend was covered with confusion by all this
praise, she hastened to change the subject by saying, "And now, if
Donald were only here, what a happy party we would form, and how
readily might we forget our captivity!"
"Not captivity!" interrupted Ah-mo, eagerly. "Pontiac's guests can
never be his captives."
"While your father's opinions and mine are not agreed on that point, my
dear girl, he certainly has done everything suggested by a courteous
hospitality to make my stay here comfortable," said Major Hester.
"But, as any form of detention against one's will must be regarded as a
captivity, I cannot echo your wish, Edith, that Donald were here. He
is so young, so fearless, and so impatient of inaction, that, were he
taken prisoner, he would do and dare anything to effect an escape, with
possible results that I cannot bear to contemplate. Therefore I am
glad that he is far away, and is happily free from a knowledge of our
position."
"Why, father, is he not in Detroit?" queried Edith.
"No; he left before the outbreak, with despatches for New York, and,
had you not come by the north shore of the lake, he would surely have
met you."
"Well," sighed Edith, "I wish we might have met. Had I known of his
coming, I should certainly have waited for him in New York; though, as
things have turned out, I wouldn't have missed this coming to you,
father dear, for the world. Now I only hope he won't try to return
before peace is declared. Oh, Ah-mo! why will your father persist in
this horrid war? He surely cannot hope to succeed against the forces
of the king."
"His warriors have not yet been defeated," replied the Indian girl
quickly, with a bright flush heightening the dark beauty of her face.
"And he is too brave a man not to make war against those who would
steal the lands of his people, and kill them like so many wild beasts.
Why do the English drive my father to war?"
"Do not become involved in fruitless discussion, my dears," chided the
old soldier. "This question is one to be settled by older and wiser
heads than yours."
So the conversation was changed, and ran in other channels far into the
night.
By Pontiac's order, suitable accommodations had been provided for Edith
in the farmhouse adjoining that occupied by her father, and, at her
request, Ah-mo shared them with her at night. During the day the
latter was much with her own father, acting as his secretary and
adviser, for which position no one of Indian blood was so well fitted
as she.
Pontiac was too able a man not to realize the value of an education
beyond that afforded by the forest, and had long ago selected Ah-mo,
the cleverest of all his children, as the one who should receive its
benefits. So she had spent six years in Montreal, studying diligently,
learning easily, and in all ways preparing herself for the very place
she now occupied. She had been courted, petted, and made much of by
the gay society of the Canadian capital; but never did she forget her
loyalty to her own people. Thus, when, on the eve of his great
undertaking, her father sent for her, she unhesitatingly relinquished
the allurements of civilization for a place in his wilderness lodge and
by his side.
From him she was now learning the greatest of all arts, that of knowing
when to keep silence and when to speak. Thus, fond as she had become
of Edith Hester, she wisely kept many things from her; among others, by
Pontiac's desire, the fact that her brother Donald and Paymaster Bullen
had been captured, an event that occurred some two weeks after Edith
herself was brought from the island. Nor were the major and his
daughter allowed to know what took place in the Ottawa village, which
had been removed a full mile from the carefully guarded quarters
assigned to them, and to which, for their own safety, they were closely
confined.
Ah-mo's influence over her father was regarded unfavorably by some of
the chiefs, and especially by Mahng, the Ojibwa, who, having sought her
in marriage for his son Suggema, and being met with a prompt refusal,
had conceived an intense dislike for her. This was inflamed by her
friendship for the daughter of Major Hester, whom Mahng regarded as the
chief of his enemies. Therefore, in all his plans for revenge upon
those who he was determined should feel the weight of his wrath, Ah-mo
was included; and he impatiently awaited a fitting time for the
carrying out of his evil designs. When, therefore, near the close of a
certain day, Pontiac bade the Ojibwas hold themselves in readiness to
repel an attack, which he had secret information the English were to
make that night, Mahng smiled grimly; for he believed his long-desired
opportunity had arrived.