The Little Red Foot Part 31

"Will you mind your business?" I retorted sharply.

The Oneida had smiled slightly at my sarcasm concerning his name; his eyes rested on the rock behind which I lay snug, stock against cheek.

"I am Tahioni," he repeated simply. "My mother's clan is the Onondaga Tortoise."

Which explained his clan and name, of course, if his father was Oneida.

"I continue to listen," said I warily.

"Tahioni has spoken," he said; and calmly seated himself.

For a moment I remained silent, yet still dared not show myself.

"Is my brother alone?" I asked at last.

"Two Oneida youths and my adopted sister are with me, brother."

"Where are they?"

"They are here."

"Let them show themselves," said I, instantly bitten by suspicion.

Two young men and a girl came calmly from the thicket and stood on the bank. All carried blanket and rifle. At a sign from Tahioni, all three laid their blankets at their feet and placed their rifles across them.

One, a stocky, powerful youth, spoke first:

"I am Kwiyeh.[5] My clan is the Oneida Tortoise."

The other young fellow said: "Brother, I am Hanatoh,[6] of the Oneida Tortoise."

[Footnote 5: The Screech-Owl.]

[Footnote 6: The Water-Snake.]

Then they calmly seated themselves.

I rose from my cover, my rifle in the hollow of my left arm. Nick came from his bed of juniper and stood looking very hard at the Oneidas across the stream.

Save for the girl, all were naked except for breech-clout, sporran, and ankle moccasins; all were oiled and in their paint, and their heads shaven, leaving only the lock. There could be no doubt that this was a war party. No doubt, also, that they could have slain me very easily where I sat, had they wished to do so.

There was, just below us, a string of rocks crossing the stream. I sprang from one to another and came out on their bank of the creek; and Nick followed, leaping the boulders like a lithe tree-cat.

The Oneidas, who had been seated, rose as I came up to them. I gave my hand to each of them in turn, until I faced the girl. And then I hesitated.

For never anywhere, among any nation of the Iroquois Confederacy, had I seen any woman so costumed, painted, and accoutred.

For this girl looked more like a warrior than a woman; and, save for her slim and hard young body's shape, and her full hair, must have pa.s.sed for an adolescent wearing his first hatchet and his first touch of war paint.

She, also, was naked to the waist, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s scarce formed. Two braids of hair lay on her shoulders, and her skin was palely bronzed and smooth in its oil, as amber without a flaw.

But she wore leggins of doe-skin, deeply fringed with pale green and cinctured in at her waist, where war-axe and knife hung on her left thigh, and powder horn and bullet pouch on her right. And over these she wore knee moccasins of green snake-skin, the feet of which were deer-hide sewn thick with scarlet, purple, and greenish wampum, which glistened like a humming-bird's throat.

I said, wondering: "Who is this girl in a young warrior's dress, who wears a disk of blue war-paint on her forehead?"

But Nick pulled my arm and said in my ear:

"Have you heard of the little maid of Askalege? Yonder she stands, thank G.o.d! For the Oneida follow their prophetess; and the Oneida are with us in this war if she becomes our friend!"

I had heard of the little Athabasca girl, found in the forest by Skenandoa and Spencer, and how she grew up like a boy at Askalege, with the brave half-breed interpreter, Thomas Spencer; and how it was her delight to roam the forests and talk--they said--to trees and beasts by moonlight; how she knew the language of all things living, and could hear the tiny voices of the growing gra.s.s! Legends and fairy tales, but by many believed.

Yet, Sir William had seen the child at Askalege dancing in the stream of sparks that poured from Spencer's smithy when the Oneida blacksmith pumped his home-made bellows or struck fire-flakes from the cherry-red iron.

I said: "Are you sure, Nick? For never have I seen an Indian maid play boy in earnest."

"She is the little witch-maid of Askalege--their prophetess," he repeated. "I saw her once at Oneida Lake, dancing on the sh.o.r.e amid a whirl of yellow b.u.t.terflies at their strawberry feast. G.o.d send she favours our party, for the Oneidas will follow her."

I turned to the girl, who was standing quietly beside a young silver birch-tree.

"Who are you, my sister, who wear a little blue moon on your brow, and the dress and weapons of an adolescent?"

"Brother," she said in her soft Oneida tongue, "I am an Athabascan of the Heron Clan, adopted into the Oneida nation. My name is Thiohero,[7]

and my privilege is Oyaneh.[8] Brother, I come as a friend to liberty, and to help you fight your great war against your King.

[Footnote 7: The River-reed.]

[Footnote 8: The n.o.ble or honourable one. The feminine of Royaneh, or Sachem, in the Algonquin.]

"Brother, I have spoken," she concluded, with lowered eyes.

Surprised and charmed by this young girl's modesty and quiet speech, but not knowing how to act, I thanked her as I had the young men, and offered her my hand.

She took it, lifted her deep, wide eyes unabashed, looked me calmly and intelligently in the face, and said in English:

"My adopted father is Thomas Spencer, the friend to liberty, and Oneida interpreter to your General Schuyler. My adopted uncle is the great war-chief Skenandoa, also your ally. The Oneida are my people. And are now become your brothers in this new war."

"Your words make our hearts light, my sister."

"Your words brighten our sky, my elder brother."

Our clasped hands fell apart. I turned to Tahioni:

"Brother, why are you in battle-paint?" I demanded.

At that the eyes of the Oneida youths began to sparkle and burn; and Tahioni straightened up and struck the knife-hilt at his belt with a quick, fierce gesture.

"Give me a name that I may know my brother," he said bluntly. "Even a tree has a name." And I flushed at this merited rebuke.

"My name is John Drogue, and I am lieutenant of our new State Rangers,"