Po-No-Kah Part 5

"Good-night, Ka-te-qua," they answered in a breath, for their fear was all gone now.

"Night, night," repeated the voice, as kindly as their own mother could have said it, and after giving each a caressing stroke, their old friend moved softly away.

Very early the next morning the children were awakened by a buzzing of many voices. Ka-te-qua had been found lying stiff and cold at the entrance of her wigwam. Not a trace of injury of any kind was upon her.

The Indians, crowding round, shook their heads gravely. Ka-te-qua was wise, they said, but Manitou had sent for her. She had gone to the happy Hunting Grounds of her fathers.

XI.

FIRE-WATER BECOMES MASTER.

After a long absence, the hunting party returned. As soon as Po-no-kah's stalwart form appeared in sight, Rudolph and Kitty rushed, with a cry of joy, to meet him; but, to their great dismay, he pushed them away with a frown and a grunt that told them plainly that they were to be familiar with him no more. Poor children!--Ka-te-qua gone, Po-no-kah changed, and Tom scarcely heeding them,--they felt friendless indeed. Kind words they never heard now, and kind looks rarely, except when Tom threw them a hasty glance that warmed their hearts, though they scarcely knew why.

They did not know how his feelings yearned towards them, nor how eagerly he would have joined in all their simple pursuits, had he dared to do so; but the poor fellow had discovered that any notice he took of the children aroused suspicion, and he therefore concluded to pursue a prudent course.

In the meantime the children had one great joy. Their love for each other was always the same. Kitty trusted in the belief that "mammy"

would send for them; but Rudolph looked ever up to the Great Love that he knew was watching over them and the dear ones at home.

"If it's _right_, Kitty," he would whisper, "I _know_ we'll go home one of these days. Don't be afraid. G.o.d will take care of us."

"But Dod took Te-qua away," Kitty would sometimes say.

"Yes, I know He did, Kitty," and Rudolph's eyes would look sadly up to the blue sky, "I know He did, but then I think she was tired and wanted to go."

Summer, autumn, and winter had pa.s.sed away, and now came the season when the Indians carried their largest supply of furs and skins to sell in the city far over the prairies. Often, after their hunts, they had met with traders, and exchanged the skins they had taken for such articles as the white man had to give--guns, blankets, knives, powder, pipes, and fire-water;[4] but this was the grand trading excursion of the year.

When the party returned, after a few weeks' absence, they brought with them among other things, a keg of whisky. After the first welcome was over, the savages held a council.

It was soon evident that a fearful scene was to be enacted. The prisoners had seen something of the kind before, but never on so large a scale as this.

The Indians had decided to hold a revel, in which nearly all the men were to drink fire-water until they could take no more.

Even these savages knew the horrible consequences of parting with their wits in this manner. Before the drinking commenced, they appointed a few able-bodied Indians who were to remain sober and take care of the rest.

They then deprived themselves of all their dangerous weapons--tomahawks, clubs, guns, arrows, and knives, and prepared for their fearful riot.

The scene that followed need not be described.

Soon the confusion became fearful. The few sober chiefs were constantly risking their lives in their efforts to prevent mischief. Squaws were screaming, and frightened children were hiding in every direction.

Tom, who was half forgotten in the general excitement, saw Po-no-kah whisper hurriedly to one of the women. In a moment she caught Rudolph and Kitty by their hands and stole cautiously with them into the forest.

Tom's suspicions were aroused. He started up only to feel a strong arm force him back to the log upon which he had been seated.

"No move!" muttered a voice, close by his ear. "Soon come.--Be very drunk."

In a few moments, while the tumult and uproar were at their height, Tom saw Po-no-kah reeling toward the forest.

Wondering what the fellow meant to do, yet filled with a wild hope, Tom watched his chance, staggered past the rioters, and managed to follow the warrior by another path, without creating any suspicion.

When, at last, they met, Po-no-kah had Rudolph and Kitty in his arms, and, staggering no more, was hurrying through the forest, armed with bow, quiver, and traveling pouch. The astonished prisoner, after taking Kitty from his companion's arms, followed him in silence. Not for hours did Po-no-kah look back or speak, and then it was but to say a few broken words:

"Po-no-kah was hungry. The father of the little pale-faces fed him.

Po-no-kah no snake--he remember--Po-no-kah take 'em home."

[Footnote 4: Brandy, rum, and all alcoholic liquors.]

XII.

SHOWING HOW THE BAG OF POTATOES CAME BACK AGAIN.

Farmer Hedden was busily at work in the fields, looking ten years older than on that sunny day, nearly a year before, when he had shouted a laughing "good-bye" to Tom and the little ones.

Bessie was trudging alone from school, wondering why the birds sang less sweetly than they did the May before, and wis.h.i.+ng that the n.o.ble dog that bounded by her side looked a little more like the first Bouncer.

Mrs. Hedden sat with her brother in the lonely cottage, talking on the old, old theme; the memory of that terrible night had never left her heart.

"No, no, Robert," she said at length, in reply to some appeal from her brother, "we must not go. I know it would be better for us to sell out and go to Philadelphia. But it cannot be; we must never leave this spot."

"Surely, Betsy," urged her brother, "you cannot be so wild as to suppose--"

"No!" she interrupted, "I never dare even hope for that now. I know my lost darlings are not in this world, and yet--and yet why not hope? why not think that perhaps--"

A shadow fell upon the threshold. What wonder that the mother sprang forward with a cry of joy! What wonder that Farmer Hedden, looking from the field, came bounding toward the house! Po-no-kah was there--Po-no-kah and little Kitty!

Laughing,--crying,--clasping her dear Kitty frantically to her heart, then gazing at her at arms' length, Mrs. Hedden raised her eyes to the Indian, and gasped faintly--

"Rudolph? the boy--is he--"

She could say no more.

"Yes--boy all good," answered Po-no-kah, eagerly, "white man say break heart see two--he here."

Just then Farmer Hedden, Tom Hennessy, and Rudolph rushed in.

Oh, what a meeting that was! And Bessie, too, was there before they knew it. Such laughter--such tears--such shouts of rejoicing had never been known in the Hedden cottage before!

Soon the barking of a dog was heard. Rudolph sprang from his father's arms:

"Oh, it's Bouncer!" he cried; "let me see him. Here, Bouncer!"

Bouncer indeed came leaping in at the call, but it was not _the_ Bouncer, though it was a great, s.h.a.ggy fellow, worthy of the name.

Rudolph started back; the dog, too, eyed him with a suspicious look.