Into the Wilderness
Page 23
"And there I made a vow to these two that they should have property rights on whatever land I owned, for themselves and their families. And now finally Chingachgook comes to take what I offered him."
The judge wound up with a great flourish, and lifted his tankard.
Nathaniel and Hawkeye exchanged glances. "Might as well make it clear now, Judge," said Hawkeye. "My father did not come up from Genesee on his own."
"Well, I hardly thought he traveled alone in the dead of winter," said the judge.
"Falling—Day's children came along, too," said Nathaniel.
"Otter," said Hannah, speaking out to the table for the first time. "And Many-Doves ."
"Well, Hannah," said the judge kindly. "It must be good to have your aunt and uncle come to visit."
With a grin to his granddaughter, Hawkeye answered the judge. "That ain't all of it," he said lightly. "She'll have to put up with them a sight longer. They come to stay."
The judge glanced at Richard, but before he could respond, Chingachgook held up one hand, much like a battered and seasoned split of oak. His wrists were ringed with faded tattoos in geometrical shapes.
"There is no peace in the Northwest Territory," he said. "Little—Turtle has unfinished business with Washington's troops, and I for one am too old to fight. I come to my friend the judge for myself, and for my family, and for my son's family. We will settle together on Hidden Wolf, and be good neighbors."
"You and your families are welcome for as long as you want to stay," said the judge, but he glanced uneasily at Richard Todd.
Chingachgook blinked slowly. "I come to ask something from the judge which is more than his hospitality."
There was a small silence.
"We are grateful for your friendship and your generosity. But we are a people who must fend for ourselves. It seems that the only way we can do that, and live as we must live, is if we own the land we live on, as the whites do."
While Elizabeth had been following the conversation closely, she still missed much of the meaning because the names of these people they discussed were new to her. But now she sensed Richard still suddenly: the tension rose in the room like a sudden blast of heat, and Elizabeth knew that something terribly important was happening. Her father was flushed and perspiring, and Richard sat with his hands in a fist on the table. But Hawkeye, Chingachgook, and Nathaniel were as calm and easy as they had been from the beginning.
"It is not our way to lay claim to land with pieces of paper. We have never understood this manner of the Europeans. But now it seems we must accept this practice if we are to have any chance of surviving."
Chingachgook paused and looked around the room, his dark eyes under their hoods of flesh sharp and observant.
"The judge has more land than he can use. I ask him as our friend, as a man who has always treated the Kahnyen’keháka and the Mahicans fairly, I ask him as I would ask a brother who has hunted and fought with me for thirty years, to sell us the mountain called Hidden Wolf, where my son and his son's family live and hunt. So that we can sustain ourselves in these forests, not as his guests, but as his neighbors."
* * *
As tired as she was, when she finally had found refuge in her own room after the party, Elizabeth found that sleep eluded her for a long time. There was so much to consider that her thoughts collided and bumped together in a crazy quilt of images and colors: Anna Hauptmann's broad arms and the moon over the forest; the feel of Nathaniel's hands on her face and the shimmer of his daughter's smooth golden skin in the candlelight; the smell of burning sugar and spiced rum; the look on her father's face when Chingachgook had made his purpose known.
Uneasy, Elizabeth turned from side to side. She did not know what worried her more: her father's distant and uncommitted response to what had been a clearly presented and—it seemed to her—logical request; the cold look on Nathaniel's face at her father's lack of response; or the look Nathaniel had given her, as if to say: "You see, this is what you must understand about your father."
Before leaving England, Elizabeth had not thought much about the natives; generally people thought that they had been quiet for so long that they were no longer a threat, that they had become Christian and had settled into a new way of life. Elizabeth realized she knew nothing about them, about how or where they lived, now, or before the continent had been taken by the Europeans. She did not know her father very well, but she could see that he was torn between his debt to the Bonners and his terrible love of the land he had acquired with so much trouble, land he prized so highly that he was willing to sell her in marriage to keep it in his own family.
And there was the matter of Nathaniel's family, his Indian family. His wife, a Mohawk. She remembered Katherine Witherspoon's knowing look. She understood now that Katherine had wanted to tell Elizabeth about Nathaniel's Indian wife, but was unable to do so without seeming to gossip. To tell Elizabeth that Nathaniel had married an Indian, that he had a daughter who was half Indian, this would be equal to telling her that he was unsuitable as even a casual acquaintance. To a white woman of good family, such as Elizabeth was. That was what Katherine Witherspoon must believe, Elizabeth realized. That was what she herself would have taken for granted just a week ago.
Elizabeth found in herself a deep curiosity, not just about Nathaniel and his family, but about how they had come to the place they found themselves now. He was like no one she had ever known, his life to this point beyond her imagination, his problems beyond her understanding. Elizabeth knew that she could not ask her father for explanations, and that whatever she needed or wanted to know about this new place, about the people here, and about her own future in it, she would have to learn from Nathaniel. That this man, as strange as it must seem, was her only ally here. That they could help each other: she would do what she could to advance his cause with her father, and he would introduce her to this new world.
The judge wound up with a great flourish, and lifted his tankard.
Nathaniel and Hawkeye exchanged glances. "Might as well make it clear now, Judge," said Hawkeye. "My father did not come up from Genesee on his own."
"Well, I hardly thought he traveled alone in the dead of winter," said the judge.
"Falling—Day's children came along, too," said Nathaniel.
"Otter," said Hannah, speaking out to the table for the first time. "And Many-Doves ."
"Well, Hannah," said the judge kindly. "It must be good to have your aunt and uncle come to visit."
With a grin to his granddaughter, Hawkeye answered the judge. "That ain't all of it," he said lightly. "She'll have to put up with them a sight longer. They come to stay."
The judge glanced at Richard, but before he could respond, Chingachgook held up one hand, much like a battered and seasoned split of oak. His wrists were ringed with faded tattoos in geometrical shapes.
"There is no peace in the Northwest Territory," he said. "Little—Turtle has unfinished business with Washington's troops, and I for one am too old to fight. I come to my friend the judge for myself, and for my family, and for my son's family. We will settle together on Hidden Wolf, and be good neighbors."
"You and your families are welcome for as long as you want to stay," said the judge, but he glanced uneasily at Richard Todd.
Chingachgook blinked slowly. "I come to ask something from the judge which is more than his hospitality."
There was a small silence.
"We are grateful for your friendship and your generosity. But we are a people who must fend for ourselves. It seems that the only way we can do that, and live as we must live, is if we own the land we live on, as the whites do."
While Elizabeth had been following the conversation closely, she still missed much of the meaning because the names of these people they discussed were new to her. But now she sensed Richard still suddenly: the tension rose in the room like a sudden blast of heat, and Elizabeth knew that something terribly important was happening. Her father was flushed and perspiring, and Richard sat with his hands in a fist on the table. But Hawkeye, Chingachgook, and Nathaniel were as calm and easy as they had been from the beginning.
"It is not our way to lay claim to land with pieces of paper. We have never understood this manner of the Europeans. But now it seems we must accept this practice if we are to have any chance of surviving."
Chingachgook paused and looked around the room, his dark eyes under their hoods of flesh sharp and observant.
"The judge has more land than he can use. I ask him as our friend, as a man who has always treated the Kahnyen’keháka and the Mahicans fairly, I ask him as I would ask a brother who has hunted and fought with me for thirty years, to sell us the mountain called Hidden Wolf, where my son and his son's family live and hunt. So that we can sustain ourselves in these forests, not as his guests, but as his neighbors."
* * *
As tired as she was, when she finally had found refuge in her own room after the party, Elizabeth found that sleep eluded her for a long time. There was so much to consider that her thoughts collided and bumped together in a crazy quilt of images and colors: Anna Hauptmann's broad arms and the moon over the forest; the feel of Nathaniel's hands on her face and the shimmer of his daughter's smooth golden skin in the candlelight; the smell of burning sugar and spiced rum; the look on her father's face when Chingachgook had made his purpose known.
Uneasy, Elizabeth turned from side to side. She did not know what worried her more: her father's distant and uncommitted response to what had been a clearly presented and—it seemed to her—logical request; the cold look on Nathaniel's face at her father's lack of response; or the look Nathaniel had given her, as if to say: "You see, this is what you must understand about your father."
Before leaving England, Elizabeth had not thought much about the natives; generally people thought that they had been quiet for so long that they were no longer a threat, that they had become Christian and had settled into a new way of life. Elizabeth realized she knew nothing about them, about how or where they lived, now, or before the continent had been taken by the Europeans. She did not know her father very well, but she could see that he was torn between his debt to the Bonners and his terrible love of the land he had acquired with so much trouble, land he prized so highly that he was willing to sell her in marriage to keep it in his own family.
And there was the matter of Nathaniel's family, his Indian family. His wife, a Mohawk. She remembered Katherine Witherspoon's knowing look. She understood now that Katherine had wanted to tell Elizabeth about Nathaniel's Indian wife, but was unable to do so without seeming to gossip. To tell Elizabeth that Nathaniel had married an Indian, that he had a daughter who was half Indian, this would be equal to telling her that he was unsuitable as even a casual acquaintance. To a white woman of good family, such as Elizabeth was. That was what Katherine Witherspoon must believe, Elizabeth realized. That was what she herself would have taken for granted just a week ago.
Elizabeth found in herself a deep curiosity, not just about Nathaniel and his family, but about how they had come to the place they found themselves now. He was like no one she had ever known, his life to this point beyond her imagination, his problems beyond her understanding. Elizabeth knew that she could not ask her father for explanations, and that whatever she needed or wanted to know about this new place, about the people here, and about her own future in it, she would have to learn from Nathaniel. That this man, as strange as it must seem, was her only ally here. That they could help each other: she would do what she could to advance his cause with her father, and he would introduce her to this new world.
