Into the Wilderness
Page 184
"And how did they get on, the laddies?" Robbie asked. "No trouble withe exciseman?
Elizabeth laughed out loud in surprise. "In this of all places I cannot imagine that they would have such a problem."
Nathaniel and Robbie exchanged glances. "We're a half day's ride from Montreal," Nathaniel pointed out. "And the English ain't thrilled with the Kahnyen’keháka running fur into New—York."
He watched her working through this information. "They trap in Canada and smuggle furs to Albany for a better price," she concluded.
Robbie grinned at her. "Ye've got the richt of it, lassie. And a unco lucrative business it is, too, but bluidy dangerous for a' that."
"They shave their heads," she noted. "As if they were at war."
Nathaniel said, "Stone—Splitter has managed to keep his village intact and well provisioned because he is always at war, Boots. He has always gone his own way and his people have survived for it. You see this place is much better off than Barktown."
"Hmmm." Elizabeth had to agree with that observation, but still she was uneasy. "I wouldn't want to be here if the English raid," she said, working the pestle more forcefully into the curve of the bowl.
"On that account ye ne edna worra, lassie." Robbie stretched and stood. "The English are no' aboot tae come doon here an' pester Stone—Splitter. They dinna like the tradin' he does, but they do depend on his braves in the event o' war."
"Another war? Between England and America? Unlikely," Elizabeth noted.
Robbie looked thoughtful. "Aye, weel. Ye've mair faith in yer countrymen than do I. But in the meantime there's celebratin' tae do. Strawberries, ye ken. The wee seeds do stick in ma pegs, but I canna resist, for a' that. I can wed resist anythin', except temptation." He winked at her. "And then o' course, there's the dancin'."
Elizabeth smiled. "Will you be dancing, Sergeant MacLachlan?"
He laughed, his strong white teeth flashing. "Wait an' see, ma lassie, and these auld bones may just surprise you." Robbie paused on the way out, and turned back to Elizabeth.
"Wad ye mind ower much if I tak the wee dog wi' me? She and I get on richt well," he said, somewhat apologetically. Treenie cast her a sheepish look of her own and Elizabeth waved her on, amused.
When they had gone, Nathaniel sat down next to Elizabeth and slipped an arm around her waist. She paused for a moment in her work, and then tipped more corn kernels into the bowl.
"And what about you?" he asked, breathing on the soft pink lobe of her ear. "Will you be dancing, Mrs. Bonner?"
She snorted and pushed him away. "Not very likely," she said, laughing.
"And not even for your husband?"
"Don't you mean, with your husband?" she asked, keeping her eyes on her task.
"No," he said. "The women's dance is just that. For the women to dance and the men to watch." He turned her face to him and kissed her lightly, taking considerable enjoyment in the way she grew flustered.
"It's daylight, Nathaniel," she whispered. "And there are people about."
"But it won't be daylight forever, Boots."
"Your injury," she said, faltering.
He ran a hand up her side, his fingers gently probing. "Let that be my concern," he said. "Unless you're saying you don't want me?"
"No!" She glanced around them, her color high. "I didn't say that."
"Then you do want me."
She pursed her mouth at him, in exasperation and something else, perhaps relief or pleasure. Then she nodded. "When we have some ... privacy."
Nathaniel rose to his feet. "The rain's stopped, and I'm off to have a talk with Stone—Splitter," he said. "Will you come along?"
Elizabeth looked down into her bowl, and back up at him.
"Please come." He amended his question, and she took his hand and let herself be drawn up.
* * *
The sachem was sitting on a blanket in the sun, surrounded by piles of silver and copper coins. With him were Spotted—Fox and the faith keeper, He—Who—Dreams, who drew on a long pipe as he watched Stone—Splitter count. Elizabeth recognized other men, some of them by name now. They were talking quietly among themselves. They neither stared at her nor ignored her, and after a while she was able to simply listen to Nathaniel as he talked.
The sachem threw a pinch of tobacco onto the fire, a ceremonial gesture that Elizabeth recognized as an honor to Nathaniel, who then thanked Stone—Splitter for his help and hospitality, and finally announced their plans to leave the village on the day after the Strawberry Festival.
When Nathaniel had finished, the sachem spoke, glancing now and then at Elizabeth.
"He wants to talk to you directly," Nathaniel said. "He will try to do it in English."
Elizabeth was sitting across from He—Who—Dreams, who nodded to her without taking the pipe from his mouth. She glanced also at Spotted—Fox, trying not to stare openly at his scars, the mangled ear and the deep puckered valley that dragged his eye down at the outer corner.
The sachem regarded her for some time, and then he spoke to her in an English undercut with French. "Tell me of your school, and your students."
Taken by surprise, Elizabeth took a moment to gather her thoughts. "It is a small school," she began. "All children in the village are welcome to come and learn. It is my belief that each of them, white or Kahnyen’keháka or black, is entitled to an education. I would welcome any child of this village to my classroom."
Elizabeth laughed out loud in surprise. "In this of all places I cannot imagine that they would have such a problem."
Nathaniel and Robbie exchanged glances. "We're a half day's ride from Montreal," Nathaniel pointed out. "And the English ain't thrilled with the Kahnyen’keháka running fur into New—York."
He watched her working through this information. "They trap in Canada and smuggle furs to Albany for a better price," she concluded.
Robbie grinned at her. "Ye've got the richt of it, lassie. And a unco lucrative business it is, too, but bluidy dangerous for a' that."
"They shave their heads," she noted. "As if they were at war."
Nathaniel said, "Stone—Splitter has managed to keep his village intact and well provisioned because he is always at war, Boots. He has always gone his own way and his people have survived for it. You see this place is much better off than Barktown."
"Hmmm." Elizabeth had to agree with that observation, but still she was uneasy. "I wouldn't want to be here if the English raid," she said, working the pestle more forcefully into the curve of the bowl.
"On that account ye ne edna worra, lassie." Robbie stretched and stood. "The English are no' aboot tae come doon here an' pester Stone—Splitter. They dinna like the tradin' he does, but they do depend on his braves in the event o' war."
"Another war? Between England and America? Unlikely," Elizabeth noted.
Robbie looked thoughtful. "Aye, weel. Ye've mair faith in yer countrymen than do I. But in the meantime there's celebratin' tae do. Strawberries, ye ken. The wee seeds do stick in ma pegs, but I canna resist, for a' that. I can wed resist anythin', except temptation." He winked at her. "And then o' course, there's the dancin'."
Elizabeth smiled. "Will you be dancing, Sergeant MacLachlan?"
He laughed, his strong white teeth flashing. "Wait an' see, ma lassie, and these auld bones may just surprise you." Robbie paused on the way out, and turned back to Elizabeth.
"Wad ye mind ower much if I tak the wee dog wi' me? She and I get on richt well," he said, somewhat apologetically. Treenie cast her a sheepish look of her own and Elizabeth waved her on, amused.
When they had gone, Nathaniel sat down next to Elizabeth and slipped an arm around her waist. She paused for a moment in her work, and then tipped more corn kernels into the bowl.
"And what about you?" he asked, breathing on the soft pink lobe of her ear. "Will you be dancing, Mrs. Bonner?"
She snorted and pushed him away. "Not very likely," she said, laughing.
"And not even for your husband?"
"Don't you mean, with your husband?" she asked, keeping her eyes on her task.
"No," he said. "The women's dance is just that. For the women to dance and the men to watch." He turned her face to him and kissed her lightly, taking considerable enjoyment in the way she grew flustered.
"It's daylight, Nathaniel," she whispered. "And there are people about."
"But it won't be daylight forever, Boots."
"Your injury," she said, faltering.
He ran a hand up her side, his fingers gently probing. "Let that be my concern," he said. "Unless you're saying you don't want me?"
"No!" She glanced around them, her color high. "I didn't say that."
"Then you do want me."
She pursed her mouth at him, in exasperation and something else, perhaps relief or pleasure. Then she nodded. "When we have some ... privacy."
Nathaniel rose to his feet. "The rain's stopped, and I'm off to have a talk with Stone—Splitter," he said. "Will you come along?"
Elizabeth looked down into her bowl, and back up at him.
"Please come." He amended his question, and she took his hand and let herself be drawn up.
* * *
The sachem was sitting on a blanket in the sun, surrounded by piles of silver and copper coins. With him were Spotted—Fox and the faith keeper, He—Who—Dreams, who drew on a long pipe as he watched Stone—Splitter count. Elizabeth recognized other men, some of them by name now. They were talking quietly among themselves. They neither stared at her nor ignored her, and after a while she was able to simply listen to Nathaniel as he talked.
The sachem threw a pinch of tobacco onto the fire, a ceremonial gesture that Elizabeth recognized as an honor to Nathaniel, who then thanked Stone—Splitter for his help and hospitality, and finally announced their plans to leave the village on the day after the Strawberry Festival.
When Nathaniel had finished, the sachem spoke, glancing now and then at Elizabeth.
"He wants to talk to you directly," Nathaniel said. "He will try to do it in English."
Elizabeth was sitting across from He—Who—Dreams, who nodded to her without taking the pipe from his mouth. She glanced also at Spotted—Fox, trying not to stare openly at his scars, the mangled ear and the deep puckered valley that dragged his eye down at the outer corner.
The sachem regarded her for some time, and then he spoke to her in an English undercut with French. "Tell me of your school, and your students."
Taken by surprise, Elizabeth took a moment to gather her thoughts. "It is a small school," she began. "All children in the village are welcome to come and learn. It is my belief that each of them, white or Kahnyen’keháka or black, is entitled to an education. I would welcome any child of this village to my classroom."
