WHAT THE DAUGHTERS OF KAWERAS FOUND
Sacandaga secretly gave to Miantinomo a belt of wampum bearing the
emblem of a tortoise, his own totem, to be transmitted to Longfeather,
while publicly he gave another to the Narragansett chiefs for
Canonicus. After the formalities of the treaty as well as the private
negotiations were concluded, Miantinomo urged the immediate departure
of his companions lest they might discover his evil doings. Then,
having got them well started on their homeward journey, he hastened
on in advance. For this he gave an excuse that the whites who were to
be plundered might appear at any time, and that every hour was now
of importance. His real reason was the belief that Longfeather must
also have sent a delegation of chiefs to confer with the Maquas, and a
determination to meet them and, if possible, turn them back. So, while
his companions took a trail different from the one by which they had
come, Miantinomo hastened back to the place where he had encountered
Nahma, and found those who had followed the son of Longfeather camped
on the opposite bank of the river awaiting the coming of canoes in
which to cross over.
For some time after his appearance among them they asked no questions,
but waited in dignified silence to learn of his errand to them.
Finally, the young man said,--
"My fathers, you are following Nahma, the son of Longfeather, on a
mission to Sacandaga, the Iroquois. Is it not so?"
"It is as my young brother has said," replied one of the chiefs.
"Then you may be spared a farther journey," continued Miantinomo,
"for Nahma, by virtue of the belt he wore, the great Belt of Seven
Totems, readily gained the ear of Sacandaga, even while I and those
with me were vainly striving to do so. Thus did he make a treaty with
the Iroquois on behalf of Longfeather, his father, and for fear that
you might claim a share in the honor he has returned to Montaup by
another trail. Even now he travels with those of my people who kept
me company. I have come by this trail that I may visit the village
of Peace before returning to my father. For this I was heavy-hearted;
but now am I glad, because I have met with you, and may so save you a
useless journey."
For some time the chiefs discussed this report of Miantinomo; and then,
because they did not wholly trust him, they decided to retain him as
a hostage while one of their number visited the Maqua villages for
confirmation of his words.
During the absence of this messenger Miantinomo was filled with
apprehension, though he carefully hid his feelings and affected the
utmost unconcern. He even went so far as to advise Longfeather's
commissioners to appropriate to their own use the presents they were
bearing to Sacandaga, and seek their respective homes without reporting
to the Peacemaker.
"The treaty has been made," he said. "The sachem of the Maquas is
satisfied and expects nothing further. You have been put to much
trouble and will have no share in the honor. Longfeather has no thought
that the presents will be returned to him. Therefore is it best that
you who have earned them should keep them."
To such arguments the chiefs listened not unwillingly; and when their
messenger returned with a report that Miantinomo had spoken truly
concerning what had taken place in the Maqua village, they decided to
accept his advice.
"Why should Longfeather have intrusted the Belt of Seven Totems to one
so young and inexperienced as Nahma instead of to us?" they asked.
"Also why did he not tell us that he had done so? Truly he has shamed
us, and if we take his presents to wipe out our shame, then shall we do
that which is right and good."
Having reached this conclusion, each took a share and went his way;
while Miantinomo, rejoicing at the complete success of his evil designs
and still wearing next his skin the Belt of Seven Totems that was
the badge of highest authority in all that land, returned to his own
people. There he busied himself with the secret spreading of various
reports concerning the young rival with whom he had dealt so foully.
One was that Nahma had taken a Maqua girl to wife and would thereafter
dwell among the Iroquois. Another was to the effect that he had been
murdered by his companions of Longfeather's embassy for the sake of the
belt that he wore, as well as for the presents intrusted to them, which
they had taken for their own benefit.
From Sacandaga himself Longfeather learned that a young man named
Nahma and wearing the Belt of Seven Totems had indeed visited the
Maqua villages, from which he had departed again in company with the
Narragansett chiefs. Although the latter denied this and declared that
they had not seen Nahma, Miantinomo maintained that he had met him in
Sacandaga's village and spoken with him.
By these and other conflicting stories was the fate of Nahma so
shrouded in mystery that it became impossible to discover what had
really befallen him, and finally his friends mourned for him as for one
who is dead. Even while they thus mourned it became rumored that either
Canonicus or Miantinomo, his adopted son, would succeed Longfeather
in the high office of Peacemaker and ruler of the allied New England
tribes.
In the mean time, while all these events were happening, Nahma knew
nothing of them nor indeed of anything else, for he lay tossing with
fever in the lodge of Kaweras, principal arrow-maker of the Maquas.
When, apparently dead, he had been flung into the river to disappear
forever from human eyes, he had fallen among a bed of reeds in a
place where the water was too shallow to drown him. There he lay
motionless through the long night hours, half in the water and half
out of it, while the tall reeds whispered and rustled above his head.
Soft-flitting night-birds gazed at him with wondering eyes, while timid
animals coming to the river to drink sniffed the air tainted by his
presence and fled in terror.
Towards morning a glimmer of returning life entered the numbed brain,
and in striving to obey its commands the poor bruised body began to
make feeble movements. By sunrise Nahma was sitting up and gazing
stupidly at the green wall by which he was surrounded. Also he muttered
over and over, with tedious repetition, three meaningless words:
"Hillo, Sacré," and "Massasoit." Other than this he gave no sign of
restored consciousness. He did not take heed even when a sound of merry
voices came to the place where he sat, nor was his attention attracted
by a loud swish and rustle of the reeds that came ever nearer until it
was close at hand. Then there was a momentary silence, broken only by
the monotonous repetition of "Hillo, Sacré, Massasoit."
A stifled exclamation and excited whispers announced that these words
had at length reached human ears, but there was an evident hesitation
while fear struggled with curiosity. After a minute the reeds in front
of Nahma were noiselessly parted, and the bow of a canoe stole into
sight inch by inch with almost imperceptible motion. From it peered
the face of a young girl, bright and fascinating, but big-eyed with
apprehension as that of a startled fawn. As she caught a glimpse of the
wounded youth the progress of the canoe was instantly arrested, while
the girl became rigidly motionless. Her eyes, however, took in every
detail of his appearance and of his melancholy situation. He still
appeared to see nothing and still repeated the words that had attracted
attention, "Hillo, Sacré, Massasoit."
[Illustration: AS SHE CAUGHT A GLIMPSE OF THE WOUNDED YOUTH THE
PROGRESS OF THE CANOE WAS INSTANTLY ARRESTED]
"What is it, sister? What do you see?" came in a frightened whisper
from an unseen speaker who occupied the farther end of the canoe; but
the other, still gazing motionless, made no reply. "Aeana," insisted
the invisible one in a louder tone, "tell me quickly what you see. I am
frightened."
"I see nothing to be afraid of, Otshata," replied the girl in the bow
of the canoe. "It is a young man, but he is evidently sorely wounded
and regards not our presence. There, you may see for yourself." With
this the girl called Aeana pulled the canoe into such a position that
the other could catch a glimpse of Nahma.
"It is certain that he is handsome," whispered Otshata; "but is not his
condition dreadful? Let us hasten and report it to our father."
"No," answered Aeana, decisively. "That is," she added, "we will return
to our father, and that quickly, but we must either take this young man
with us or leave him to perish. See you not that the river is flowing
backward and that its waters are rising? If we leave him he must die,
since he is in no condition to care for himself. How we may get him
into the canoe I know not, but if that can be done we will carry him to
Kaweras, our father."
The elder though more timid sister attempted a further expostulation,
but without heeding her Aeana brought the canoe close to where
the wounded youth still sat, indifferent alike to his fate and
his surroundings, idly repeating the strange words that had fixed
themselves in his bewildered brain. Aeana spoke to him, but he failed
to comprehend what she said. She laid a gentle hand on his arm and
endeavored to persuade him into the canoe, but he sat passively
motionless.
Finally in despair the girl uttered one of the strange words that he
so constantly repeated. "Massasoit," she said, and the youth looked
at her, seeming for the first time to recognize her presence. A faint
smile flickered across his blood-smeared features, and he made a
movement towards her. In another moment, aided by her supple strength,
he had gained the interior of the canoe, and lay weakly with closed
eyes while the two girls pulled it out from among the reeds. Then
seizing their paddles, they urged the light craft swiftly down the
river towards their father's lodge.
Thus did the daughters of Kaweras, who had been sent to fetch a bundle
of stout reeds that might serve as shafts for bird arrows, return
without them, but bringing a wounded and unconscious youth in their
place.
Although the old arrow-maker saw at a glance that the young warrior
was not of the Maqua, nor even of the Iroquois people, his ideas of
hospitality did not permit him to ask questions nor hesitate a moment
before attending to the stranger's needs. It required the united
strength of father and daughters to transfer Nahma from canoe to lodge,
and when he was finally laid in the latter on a hastily improvised
couch of boughs and skins, he was once more to all appearance dead.