A FAST AND A SILENCE
Being Chief that week it was Katherine's duty to blow the rising horn in
the morning. The day after the return from the canoe trip was the
morning for war canoe practice. The crew practised three mornings a week
before breakfast. Katherine, who had gone to sleep with the idea firmly
fixed in her mind that she must wake by a quarter to seven so that she
could rouse the others, awoke with a start, dreaming that she had
overslept and the others had tied her in her bed and gone off without
her. The world was dull and grey and covered with a chilly mist. There
was nothing to inspire a desire to go war canoe practicing. Katherine
was still tired from the strenuous paddling of the past two days, and
she stretched in delicious comfort under the covers. Then she pulled her
watch from under her pillow and looked at it.
"Gracious!" she exclaimed, sitting bolt upright in bed. "It's ten after
seven. I have overslept! It's so grey this morning it seems much
earlier."
She seized the horn and blew a mighty blast at the other girls, who were
still sleeping peacefully. One by one they opened their eyes drowsily.
"Get up!" shouted Katherine. "We've overslept! This is the morning for
crew practice and it's ten after seven already."
"Seems as if I'd just fallen asleep," grumbled Hinpoha, half rising from
the pillow and then sinking down into its warm depths again.
"It's horrid and misty out," sighed Gladys. "Do we have crew practice if
it isn't a nice day?"
"We certainly do," said Katherine emphatically, buttoning the last
button of her bathing suit and departing to wake the others.
In the next tent she encountered the same sleepy protest. "I didn't
think we went out when it was misty," said Migwan, regretfully leaving
the warm embrace of her blankets.
"I'm _so_ comfortable," sighed Nakwisi.
Katherine stood in the doorway with arms akimbo and delivered her mind.
"What kind of sports are you, anyway? Just because it's cold and misty
you want to stay in bed all day and sleep. It's no test of energy to get
out on a fine morning and paddle a canoe, that's pure fun; a cold, wet
day is the real test of sportsmanship. What kind of Winnebagos are you?
You sing:
"'We always think the weather's fine in sunshine or in snow,' and then
when the chance comes to prove it you back down."
"We haven't backed down," said Migwan hastily, "and we aren't going to.
See, I'm up already." And she reached for her bathing suit.
Katherine passed out of the tent and took her position on the high place
between the two encampments where her horn would awaken the boys. It
took no end of lusty blowing before she heard the answering shout that
told they had heard and were getting up.
"Such a bunch of sleepy heads," she called aloud to the trees. "They
paddle a few miles and think they're killed and have to sleep a week to
make up for it. I won't have it while I'm Chief. We must get hardened
down to all kinds of weather or else we're not true sports." And she
marched back to her tent to see that none of the girls had slipped back
to bed while she was out. They were all grumbling and yawning, but were
dutifully getting into their bathing suits.
"Mine's wet," wailed Hinpoha, "and--ouch! it's cold. I forgot to hang it
up after our swim last night. I think it's cruelty to animals to make a
person get into a wet bathing suit."
"Serves you right for not hanging it up," said Katherine imperturbably.
It was a chilly and unenthusiastic crew that manned the war canoe a few
minutes later. The boys had been just as reluctant to leave their beds
as the girls, though none of them would admit it. Katherine lectured
them all on their doleful countenances and repeated her remarks about
the test of sportsmanship. After that nobody dared open their mouths
about the unpleasantness of the weather; in dogged silence they dipped
their paddles and pushed out into the greyness.
"Sing something," commanded Katherine, "and put a little life into your
paddling! Ready now, 'We pull long, we pull strong.'"
And obediently they opened their mouths and sang, but it sounded all out
of tune and they couldn't keep together no matter how hard they tried.
"Did the lake ever look so big and cold to you before?" asked Hinpoha in
a forlorn voice after the attempt at singing had been given up.
"And St. Pierre looks about a thousand miles away, and all grey and
shabby," said Gladys.
"Do you think it will rain so much today that we can't go over to St.
Pierre with the little launch engine?" asked the Captain.
"No telling," said Uncle Teddy, vainly trying to stifle a telltale yawn.
Uncle Teddy was secretly wishing that Katherine had overslept with the
rest of them and did not have such a tremendous idea of good
sportsmanship. But, being a thorough sport, he shook himself out of his
drowsiness and shouted the paddling commands lustily.
"One, two! One, two! Click stroke! Ready, dip!"
And the paddles clicked and dipped, as the paddlers began to feel the
energy rising in their systems.
"Water wheel!" shouted Uncle Teddy, and the paddles flashed backward in
a wide circle between each dip.
"Wasn't that fun?" said Sahwah. "I'm getting wider awake every minute.
You were right about making us get up, Katherine. If I'd slept as long
as I wanted to I'd have felt 'dumpy' all day, but now I feel fine and
just full of pep."
"So do I," said Gladys.
"I don't," said Hinpoha dolefully. "I guess I'm not much of a sport, but
I'm getting sleepier every minute."
"You girls talk too long before you go to sleep nights," said the
Captain. "That's why you're not ready to get up in the morning. We can
hear you away down in our tents, long after we're asleep."
"How can you hear us after you're asleep?" demanded Katherine, and the
Captain, caught in a bull, subsided in confusion.
"Well, anyway," said Hinpoha, "I'm going back to bed as soon as we land
and sleep until breakfast time. I'm not going for a dip this morning."
"You can't sleep," said Katherine, the martinet, "you're on breakfast
duty. And you'll have to step lively at that, for it's late this morning
and the animals will all be hungry."
"What time is it?" asked Sahwah.
"It must be pretty near eight," answered Katherine. "Wait a minute until
I look at my watch." She fished around in the pocket of her sweater,
pulling out first half a comb, then several peanuts, and finally the
watch.
"It's ten after seven," she said. "Why, it can't be that--that's what it
was when I got up. The watch has stopped. I don't know what time it is,
but it must be nearly eight."
Just then a tiny golden beam fell on the water in front of the canoe.
"It's clearing up," said Sahwah joyfully. "It isn't going to rain after
all today." She twisted her head upward to see where the sun was
breaking through the clouds. "Why----" she exclaimed in bewilderment,
"where is the sun?"
They all looked around. There was the sun, just beginning to peep over
the eastern horizon. "It's--it's just rising!" said Katherine,
dumbfounded. "Did it oversleep, too?"
"No, it didn't," said Uncle Teddy. "Old Sol is the one person who always
wakes on time. And at this season of the year his time is about four
o'clock A. M."
"It's only four o'clock!" they all shouted. "Katherine, you wretch, you
pulled us out of our beds at half past three! You did it on purpose!"
But one glance at Katherine's amazed face dispelled all doubts on that
score, and set them into a wild gale of laughter. If ever a person was
taken aback it was Katherine. "My watch must have stopped at ten after
seven last night," she said sheepishly. "I remember now, I didn't wind
it. No wonder it was so grey and misty we thought it was going to rain!"
"The real test of sportsmanship!" scoffed the Captain. "I should say we
were some fine sports, getting up at half past three the morning after a
canoe trip and going out to crew practice!"
"And me getting into a wet bathing suit!" mourned Hinpoha. "I think I
ought to have a Carnegie medal for that."
Even the sun seemed to be laughing, as he climbed up over the rim of the
water and turned the wavelets into gold. They paddled back to the dock
as fast as they could go, laughing so they could hardly dip their
paddles, and singing,
"Hail to the Chief who at sunrise advances!"
Arrived at the dock they scurried up the path and got back into bed as
soon as they could, and journeyed back into the land of dreams without
delay. Katherine refused to blow the rising horn at all, but let them
sleep as long as they wanted to, and it was nine o'clock before the
first one stirred. Breakfast was served at ten instead of at eight,
and was the most hilarious meal they had eaten since coming to Ellen's
Isle. Song after song was made up about Katherine's "False alarm" and
her "rising qualities." Finally they rose from the table and putting
their hands on each other's shoulders they formed a circle around her
and danced a snake dance, singing:
"For she's a really good sportsman,
For she's a really good sportsman,
For she's a really good sportsman,
Which no one can deny!"
"Don't be cross, Katherine," said Gladys, running from the circle to put
her arms around her. "We're horrid, nasty things to make such fun of
you, but it was _such_ a good joke on you!"
"Oh, I'll forgive you all," said Katherine magnanimously, "but I still
have a sneaking suspicion that the joke was on _you_!"
"All aboard for St. Pierre," cried Uncle Teddy. "How many of you boys
want to come along? Company form ranks on the pier!"
There was a wild scramble down the hill to be on time, for it was an
invariable rule that those who were not there when the boat was ready to
start were left behind. There was no waiting for laggards. They all made
it this time and chugged out of sight, still hearing echoes of the
laughter on Ellen's Isle.
It took so long to get the engine fixed that they decided to wait over
and have dinner at St. Pierre. While they were eating there a big,
bronzed man walked up and slapped Uncle Teddy on the shoulder. Uncle
Teddy greeted him joyfully.
"Hello, Colonel Berry! Where in the firmament did you come from?"
"Oh, I just rained down," said the big stranger, laughing. "But talking
about firmaments, just what are _you_ doing in this corner of the
country?"
Uncle Teddy explained, and introduced Mr. Evans and the boys. "These are
the Sandwiches," he said, including them all in a comprehensive wave of
his hand, whereat Colonel Berry roared with laughter. "Boys, meet
Colonel C. C. Berry, the best woodsman in fourteen states, and the best
goodfellow in the world."
The boys acknowledged the introduction with great politeness and
respect, but Colonel Berry insisted on shaking hands all around, "just
as if we were senators," the Captain explained afterward.
Mr. Evans immediately invited Colonel Berry to visit them at Ellen's
Isle, and the Sandwiches all echoed the plea eagerly, just as if he had
been an old and beloved friend instead of a new acquaintance.
The colonel replied that his business would take him out of St. Pierre
the following evening, but he would be delighted to run over and spend
that night with them on Ellen's Isle.
It was not without considerable pride that Mr. Evans pointed out "his
island" to Colonel Berry later in the afternoon as the launch approached
it on their return home. The way affairs were run on that little island
was something to be proud of, as he well knew, and which even a
distinguished camper and woodsman must admire. The boys were busy
describing the wonders of Ellen's Isle and kept saying, "Wait until you
see our girls. Wait until you see Sahwah dive off the bow of the war
canoe and Gladys hold a parasol over her head when she swims. Wait until
you eat some of Hinpoha's slumgullion!"
"I'm surprised they're not all down on the landing waiting for us," said
Mr. Evans, as they ran the launch in. "They generally are. But they'll
be down immediately." Making a trumpet of his hands he called, "Oh,
Mother! Gladys! Aunt Clara!" There was no answer. "They must be in the
tents," he said. "Come on up." He helped the colonel up the steep path
and shouted again. Still no answer. He went over to Mrs. Evans' tent.
The sides were rolled up and it was empty. So was the other one. "They
must be away at the other end of the island," said Mr. Evans. He struck
into the path which led up the men's encampment, and which ran through
the "kitchen." The fire, which was generally burning there around supper
time, was carefully laid, but not lighted. "Where can they be?" said Mr.
Evans to Uncle Teddy in a puzzled tone. Just then his eye fell on a
piece of paper tucked under the handle of the water bucket. Wonderingly
he opened it and read:
"Dear men folks:
"Seeing that you have found amusement for the day we have gone on a
picnic to the Point of Pines. We will stay all night if the sleeping is
good. Everything is ready for supper; just help yourselves."
"Of all things!" exclaimed Mr. Evans in vexation. "Just the day we have
a guest I am particularly anxious to have them meet they take it into
their heads to go off and spend the night. Where on earth is the Point
of Pines?"
Nobody seemed to know just where it was, but they all remembered hearing
the girls talking about it and hearing them say that some time when it
was dry they were going over there by themselves with Aunt Clara and
Mrs. Evans and have a "hen party." The general idea was that the Point
of Pines was a long point running out into the water on the mainland to
the north of them, where the pines grew very tall and close together.
"Captain, you get into the launch and go over there and see if you can
find them," ordered Uncle Teddy. "It's a pity to break up a ladies'
party in such a gorgeously select and private place as the Point of
Pines, but they would never forgive us if we let them miss the chance to
meet Colonel Berry. And in the meantime, we might as well get busy on
the supper. It will be some time before they come back. Slim, you tie on
an apron and pare potatoes; Anthony, you fill the water buckets; Pitt,
you open several cans of tomatoes."
"Here, let me take a hand," said the colonel, just as though he were not
a guest. "I haven't cooked in the open most of my life for nothing." So
he found an apron and fell to work mixing biscuits. The colonel was a
tall man--six feet two--and the apron belonged to Migwan, who was short,
and when tied around his waist line it did not reach half way to his
knees. Slim's apron was long enough, but it would not go anywhere near
around him. Being unable to tie the strings he tucked the apron in over
his belt and let it go as far as it would.
"Where's the bread knife?" asked Mr. Evans, coming out of the supply
tent, after rushing around inside for several minutes in a vain search.
"Slim has it paring potatoes," said Uncle Teddy, looking around. Slim
handed it over and finished the potatoes with his pocket knife. Pitt had
broken the paring knife trying to open a can with it when he could not
find the can opener.
"Hurry up with those potatoes, Slim," called Uncle Teddy. "They ought to
be on now in order to get cooked with the rest of the things."
"Just finished," said Slim, sucking his thumb, which he had that minute
gashed with the knife. He rose and carried the dish of pared potatoes
over to the kettle of boiling water waiting to receive them, but half
way over he tripped on the apron, which had slipped down under his feet,
and sat down with a great splash in the kettle of tomatoes, standing on
the ground awaiting its turn at the fire, while the potatoes rolled in
all directions in the dirt.
Uncle Teddy and Mr. Evans and Colonel Berry came running at the noise,
and after one glimpse of poor, fat Slim sitting there in the tomatoes
sucking his thumb, they leaned against the trees and doubled up in
helpless laughter, not one of them able to go to his rescue. Pitt and
Anthony came running at the sound and joined their laughter with that of
the men until the woods fairly rang.
Suddenly their laughter was echoed by a smothered giggle, which seemed
to come from the sky. Startled, they looked up, to see Hinpoha's
convulsed face peering down at them between the branches of a high tree.
They dropped their knives and dishes in amazement. "What are you doing
up there?" gasped Mr. Evans. Hinpoha went into a perfect gale of
merriment, which was echoed from all the trees around, and soon other
faces were peering down between the branches--Aunt Clara's, Mrs. Evans',
Sahwah's, Katherine's, Migwan's, Antha's, Nakwisi's, Gladys's. Every one
of those naughty Winnebagos had been hiding in the treetops and watching
the men cook supper down below!
Still convulsed, they descended into the midst of the amazed cooks.
"I thought you said you'd gone to the Point of Pines?" said Mr. Evans,
in his surprise completely forgetting to introduce Colonel Berry.
"We did," replied Mrs. Evans sweetly. "It wasn't our fault that you
misunderstood our note."
"I'd like to see anybody that wouldn't have misunderstood it," retorted
Mr. Evans.
"Don't be cross, dearest," said Mrs. Evans, still more sweetly. "Of
course you misunderstood our note; we meant that you should. You have
played so many tricks on us that we thought it was time we played one on
you. We intended to stay up there until you had supper all ready and
then come down to the feast, and planned on a nice enjoyable time seeing
you work. But the reality surpassed the expectation by a hundred miles.
We never expected to see such a show as we did. When you sent the
searching party out after us we were nearly convulsed; the spectacle of
Slim sitting there in that apron paring potatoes with the butcher knife
was almost fatal to the branch I sat on; but when he tripped and sat
down in the tomato kettle it was beyond human endurance and we just
naturally exploded. Now won't you forgive us and introduce your guest?
He seems to have made himself quite at home already."
Mr. Evans came to himself with a start and performed the introduction.
It was impossible to be formal with the colonel in that ridiculous short
apron, and every introduction was accompanied by a fresh peal of
laughter.
"The idea of deceiving your good husband like that," said the colonel,
"and deliberately writing misleading notes! I shall entertain a very
equivocal opinion of you young ladies," he continued with twinkling
eyes. "The Point of Pines, indeed!"
"Well, weren't we at the Point of Pines, I'd like to know?" demanded
Katherine. "There was the point of a pine poking me in the back all the
while. If you'd been up in that pine you would have appreciated the
point. And if we couldn't get down again we would have had to stay there
all night."
Supper was ready to serve before anybody remembered about the Captain,
who had been sent over to the real Point of Pines to look for the girls.
Slim and Pitt immediately went after him and met him when they had gone
half way across the lake, returning to camp with the discouraging news
that he had not been able to find anybody on the Point.
"Was there ever such a topsy turvy day as this?" asked Gladys, as they
sat around the glowing camp fire that night after supper. "First
Katherine gets us up at half past three on a false alarm; we have crew
practice and then go back to bed and don't get up until nine. And things
have kept happening all day until the grand climax just now. Some days
stand out like that from all others as _the_ day on which
everything happened."
Colonel Berry was a delightful talker and told many stories of his life
as a guide in northwestern Canada, as well as many anecdotes of the
Indians among whom he lived for some time.
"Colonel Berry," said Hinpoha during one of the pauses in his speech,
"may I ask you something?"
"Ask anything you want?" replied the colonel gallantly.
"Did the Indians ever bury anything under stones?"
"Did the Indians ever bury anything under stones?" repeated the colonel.
"You mean the bodies of their dead? Customs varied as to that. Some
tribes buried their dead in the ground, some left them on mountain tops
unburied, and some wrapped the bodies and placed them in trees."
"I don't know whether I mean people or not," said Hinpoha, and told
about finding the marked rock in the ravine.
"It is barely possible that something is buried there," said the
colonel, "although rocks have been marked for a good many reasons."
"It seemed such a good place to hide something," said Sahwah shrewdly.
"The ravine itself was dark and hard to get into, but it was easy to
find your way back to it if you had been there once, because all you had
to do was keep on going until you had passed seven big cedar trees. If
we picked our way through the woods by that trail, other people probably
have done the same thing. Maybe the Indians buried something there they
intended to come back after, and marked the rock they put it under."
"Possibly," said the colonel doubtfully. "A great many Indian relics
have been dug up around the shores of these lakes; arrow heads, pieces
of pottery and ornaments of various kinds. Such things might have been
buried before a hasty flight and never recovered."
"Wouldn't it be wonderful if there _was_ something buried under
that rock, and we should go there and dig it up!" said Hinpoha, half
starting up in her excitement.
"Mind, I'm not saying there _is_ anything buried there," said the
Colonel hastily. "I only said it was remotely possible. The Indians have
been gone from this region for so long that it is not safe to speculate
upon anything they might have left. I only know that from time to time
things _have_ been found accidentally."
"Do you think we'd better dig?" asked Hinpoha eagerly.
"Well, there wouldn't be any harm in it," said the colonel quizzically.
"You might find something of interest, and if you don't--digging is good
exercise." And there the subject was left.
"Tell us a real Indian story," begged Gladys of the colonel. "A story of
the old Indians."
The colonel obligingly consented and told them a tale as follows:
THE STORY OF BLUE ELK
"Blue Elk was the son of a Chieftain. During his boyhood the tribe to
which he belonged lived in the barren, hilly country lying to the north
of our great plains. They were forced to live there by their enemies,
who drove them out of the fertile hunting grounds which were theirs by
right. Thus the tribe was poor and had very few horses and other things
which the Indians counted as wealth. Their war costumes were not nearly
so splendid as those of other tribes and their women had very few
ornaments. They often had hard work getting enough to eat, for they
lived far away from the places where the buffalo were plentiful, and
when the winter was long and hard there was much suffering.
"Blue Elk, though only a boy, thought deeply on the condition of his
people. He wanted them to be rich and powerful as other tribes were.
When he reached the age where the Indian youth leaves boyhood behind him
and becomes a brave, he entered upon a fast, as every Indian boy must do
before he can be counted a man. He first built a sweat lodge and
purified himself with the steam bath; then he blackened his face and
went off by himself to a lonely rock ledge up the side of the mountain
where he stayed for three days without eating anything, watching for
some sign from the Great Spirit, which would be a guide for his future
life.
"To the Indian this fast is of great significance. It is the conquering
of the body by the mind; the freeing of the soul from the desires of the
flesh. To him the silence around him is the Great Mystery, and he
believes that during this time he talks face to face with the Great
Spirit.
"Blue Elk lay for a long time, his soul steeped in profound peace,
waiting for the Great Spirit to speak to him through some phenomenon of
nature. There was only one wish in his heart; that through him his
people might become prosperous and great. At last he fell asleep and
dreamed that the Great Spirit stood before him in the form of a white
buffalo and spoke thus: 'Where the two bright eyes of heaven (the Twin
Stars) are seen shining at noonday, there will the fortune of my people
be found.'
"Blue Elk awoke much perplexed at this message from the Great Spirit.
What could it mean? 'It is not possible for the Two Stars to shine at
midday,' he said. But that was the message the Great Spirit had given
him, and so great was his faith that he never doubted for a moment that
a miracle would occur which would bring about the fortune of his people.
"Time passed on; Blue Elk became a brave and went on the warpath and
brought home the scalps of many enemies. But the tribe was still poor
and the winter often brought famine. One day when Blue Elk was being
hotly pursued by a band of enemies he hid in a deep cave in the side of
a hill. Faint and exhausted he flung himself on the floor. As his eyes
turned upward in a prayer to the Great Spirit he saw there was an
opening high up in the top of the cave and through the dark shaft thus
formed the Twin Stars were shining brightly. He sprang to his feet in
amazement and wonder, the words of the prophecy coming back to him.
'Where the two bright eyes of heaven are seen shining at noonday, there
will the fortune of my people be found.' It was just midday. And there
were the stars shining down the shaft. The Great Spirit had brought the
miracle to pass! But where was the fortune? Forgetting that he was hard
pressed by the enemies, Blue Elk ran from the cave. His pursuers were
nowhere in sight. He looked eagerly into the sky to behold the sight of
the stars shining in daylight. They had vanished. Was it a dream, a
trick of the imagination?
"He ran back into the cave and there were the stars shining as brightly
as before. Then the truth came to him. The Great Spirit had said that
where the stars shone there would the fortune be found. They were not
shining outside, there was no fortune there; they were shining in the
cave, so the fortune was in the cave. He looked around carefully. On the
floor were some pieces of what he thought were stones. But they
glittered in a strange way. 'The stars have come down into the stones!'
said Blue Elk. 'These Star Stones are the fortune of my people!' (The
Star Stones were silver ore.) And a fortune they proved to be. With them
his people were able to buy peace with the surrounding tribes and extend
their hunting grounds so that they no longer wanted for food or skins or
blankets. And Blue Elk believed firmly to his dying day that the Great
Spirit had spoken to him in person during his fast on the mountain."
* * * * *
"Oh, what a lovely story!" said Gladys. "Thank you very much for telling
it. Is it a true story?"
"The Indian who told it to me certainly believed it," replied Colonel
Berry.
"But," objected the practical Sahwah, "how was it possible for the stars
to shine in daylight?"
"Have you ever looked up through a very tall chimney?" asked the
colonel. "By looking through a long, dark, narrow shaft it is possible
to see the stars in daylight. I myself have seen the Little Dipper at
noonday in that manner. You will remember that Blue Elk was in a cave in
a hillside. A long, narrow passage through the rocks led to a hole in
the roof. Looking through this he saw the Twin Stars, and the supposed
miracle was merely a phenomenon of nature. Naturally, when he went
outside, he could not see them."
Colonel Berry told many more tales of the red men, but the story of Blue
Elk remained the favorite. That glimpse of a far-away boyhood struck a
sympathetic chord that tales of middle-aged wisdom and cunning failed to
awaken. The colonel left Ellen's Isle at noon the next day and the whole
camp escorted him as far at St. Pierre in the canoes, like a squadron of
battleships accompanying a liner. They parted from him with genuine
regret and sang a mighty cheer in his honor as they pushed off on the
return trip to Ellen's Isle.
"Uncle Teddy," said the Captain, as they sat around the fire at Ellen's
Isle that night, talking over the events of the previous day, "I am
going to do the three-day fast like the Indian boys did."
"Ho-ho-ho!" shouted Slim. "You couldn't go a day without something to
eat."
"Don't judge others by yourself," retorted the Captain. "_You_
couldn't, I know well enough. But I believe the Indians were right in
saying that the mind should conquer the body. I like that idea of going
off by yourself and watching for some sign from nature. Being away from
people and not hearing them talk gives you a great chance to think out
the things that are puzzling you. I am going over on the mainland, in
the woods, and keep the fast three days."
Of course, Aunt Clara didn't want him to do it. She immediately had
visions of him starved to death. But there was a wonderful gleam in
Uncle Teddy's eyes when he looked at his nephew. He said very little
about the proposed fast, either to encourage or discourage him; simply
gave his consent.
Hinpoha regarded the Captain with wondering admiration. She also burned
with the desire to do something hard, to prove that girls as well as
boys can practise self-control. "Oh, Captain," she said, "if you keep
the fast I'll keep the silence! I'll not speak a word for three days."
There was a ripple of exclamations at this, mixed with laughter, for
Hinpoha's fondness for conversation was well known. "Laugh all you want
to," she said, "but I'll prove to you that I can do it."
The Captain chose the spot for his retirement and on the first day after
he was released from Chiefhood he paddled across to the mainland taking
his blankets and water, but no food. Hinpoha stood on the bank as he
departed, with a middy tie bound over her mouth. She had feared her
ability to keep silence without it as a constant reminder.
When the Captain reached the place where he planned to spread his
blankets he found an Indian bed of balsam branches fully two feet high.
Who could have made it? he wondered, and then he remembered that Hinpoha
had gone off paddling by herself the afternoon before. She knew the
place he had picked out. He threw himself down on the fragrant couch and
began his long struggle for the victory of the spirit over the body.
Every night at sunset Uncle Teddy went over to see if he was all right
and bring him fresh water from the little sweet spring on Ellen's Isle.
The third day the Captain lay with his eyes closed most of the time and
dozed, the sounds of the wood and the lake coming to him as from afar
off. Sometimes he slept and once he dreamed he saw an Indian girl come
across the lake in a canoe, walk up to where he lay and stand looking at
him steadily for a long time. He half opened his eyes and it still
seemed to him as if there were someone there, but the face and the
figure were Hinpoha's. He opened his eyes wider and looked again, but
she had vanished, and he sank back to sleep.
Over at Ellen's Isle Hinpoha was going through the most strenuous three
days in her whole experience. If anyone thinks it is easy to refrain
from talking when one has talked all her life, let her try it, and her
respect for Hinpoha will be greatly increased. The others tried by every
means at their command to make her talk, popping questions at her
suddenly to take her off her guard, making statements in her presence
which she knew were incorrect and which she burned to correct, and in
every way making the fulfillment of her vow a difficult task. She could
not go off by herself and thus remove the temptation, for she had vowed
to go about her daily tasks as usual. By the end of the third day she
was nearly ready to burst, but through it all she managed to keep an
unruffled temper and a pleasant expression--the outward signs of a soul
at peace. There will be many readers who will maintain that Hinpoha won
the greater victory, although the Captain's exploit won him more glory
among his friends. To go off and fast has the halo of romance about it;
to cease from talking for three days sounds easy, and in the case of a
woman is apt to provoke smiles and hints that she must have talked in
her sleep to make up for it.
When Uncle Teddy went over on the third sunset he brought the Captain
home with him in the canoe. He looked just as he did when he went; not a
bit thinner. When they asked him how he could stand it he replied that
he hadn't felt hungry after the first day at all. A great feast had been
prepared in his honor, and Hinpoha, released from her vow, shared the
glory with him.
"Well, was anything revealed to you during your fast?" asked Aunt Clara.
"Do you know how to make your fortune now?"
The Captain only smiled at all remarks like that and in reply to demands
as to what had been revealed simply replied, "Oh, several things." And
his glance rested on Hinpoha for a fraction of a second.
"What did you dream about?" asked Hinpoha.
"Water," said the Captain. "That isn't surprising, though. There was
water all around me in the lake and water in the jug beside me. And it
was the only thing I was putting into my stomach, and dreams usually are
the result of what you eat."
"I would have dreamed about turkey dinners and slumgullion and fudge,"
said Slim, spearing his fourth potato.
"You probably would," said the Captain, without a tinge of sarcasm. And
his eyes rested on Hinpoha again for a fraction of a second.