The Sun Maid: A Story of Fort Dearborn

“Is the heart of my brother become like that of the papoose upon its mother’s shoulders? Was it not to the red men that the victory came, but so brief time past? What were all the pale-faces, in their gaudy costumes, with their music and their guns and their childish way of battle? The arrows of our people mowed them like the grass upon the prairie when a herd of wild horses feeds upon it. But yesterday they marched in pride and insolence, scorning us. To-day, they are carrion for the crows overhead, or they flee for safety like the cowards they were born. The Black Partridge has tarried too long among such as these. He has become their blood brother.”

The taunt was the fiercest she could give, and she gave it from a full heart. In ordinary so gentle and peace-loving she had been roused, for a moment, to a pitch of emotion which astonished even herself. Yet when, as if she had been a fractious child, the chief motioned her to again become seated, she obeyed him at once. She had set her thoughts free, indeed; but she would never presume to fight against the conditions which surrounded her; and obedience to tribal authority was inborn.

“The Snake-Who-Leaps will be at the tepee of my sister each day when the sun climbs to the point overhead. The three horses will be always ready. The children who do not know, and Wahneenah who has, maybe, forgotten how to ride, will practise as he instructs, until there will be no horse they cannot master, or no spot to which a horse may be guided that they do not know. But here first. That is why the store of food and cloths. At the first assault upon our Muck-otey-pokee, mount and ride. Ride as no squaw nor papoose ever rode before. Here the Black Partridge will seek them, and here, if the Great Spirit wills, they may be safe. Enough. Let the Dark-Eye go forward and make the horses ready.”

The Black Partridge rose as he spoke, and striding toward the sleeping Sun Maid, took her in his arms and left the spot. Gaspar, already darting onward toward the beloved Tempest, paused, for an instant, and regarded his chief anxiously. But when he saw that the little girl had not awakened, he sped forward again, and by the time Wahneenah had disposed of the remnants of the chief’s supper and followed, he had loosed the animals and led them to the nearest point for mounting.

Still holding the Sun Maid motionless upon his breast, the Black Partridge leaped to the back of his own magnificent stallion, which whinnied in affectionate welcome of his approach. Then he ordered Gaspar:

“Ride behind me on Tempest, and lead the Snowbird. Wahneenah will follow all on Chestnut.”

By the time they were out upon the prairie the wind had risen and the sky was heavily clouded. It was so dark that the boy could not see beyond the head of his own horse, but he could hear the steady, grass-softened footfall of the stallion as, with unerring directness, the Indian chieftain led the way homeward to the village.

When they rode into it, all Muck-otey-pokee seemed asleep; but the perennially young, though still venerable, Snake-Who-Leaps, had been prone before Wahneenah’s wigwam, and silently rose from the ground as they drew rein beside him.

“Ah, the Sleepless! The Wise Man. Did he think his pupils had ridden away to their own destruction?” asked the squaw, as she stepped down from her saddle.

“No harm can happen the household of my chief save what the Great Spirit wills.”

“And you think He will not waste time with three wild runaways?”

“Wahneenah, the Happy, is in good spirit herself. I remembered her not, save as the message may concern. That is for the ear of my friend and the father of his tribe, the Black Partridge.”

Handing the Sun Maid into his sister’s embrace, he for whom the message waited slipped the bridles of two horses over his arm while the Snake-Who-Leaps led the others. Whatever they had to say was not begun then nor there, and if Wahneenah had any curiosity in the matter it was not to be gratified. Yet she stood, for a moment, listening to the receding sounds as the darkness enveloped the departing group; and in her heart was born a fresh anxiety because of the little one she carried, and for the orphan lad who followed so closely at her skirts as she lifted her tent curtain and entered their home.

But nothing occurred to suggest that the message of the Snake-Who-Leaps had been one of warning. He was at his post of teacher exactly on the hour appointed on the following day, and this time all his pupils conducted themselves with a grave propriety that greatly pleased him; and thereafter, for many days, and even weeks, while the dry season lasted, did he instruct and they perform the marvellous feats of horsemanship which have made the red man famous the world over.

“But,” said Osceolo one day, tauntingly: “you were the pale-face who would learn nothing from an Indian!”

“Because a person is a fool once, need he remain so always?” answered Gaspar, hotly.

“You were a fool then? I thought so. Once a fool always one.”

“Only an Indian believes that.”

“How? You taunt me? Fight, then!”

Gaspar Keith was a curious mixture of courage and timidity. His courage came by nature, and his timidity was the result of the terrible scenes through which he had passed now twice, young though he was. The impress of this terror would remain with him forever; and if ever he became a hero in fact, it would be because of his will and not his inclination. At present neither the one nor the other inspired him; and though he eyed the larger boy scornfully, and felt that he could easily whip the bully, if he chose, he now turned his back upon him and walked away haughtily.

But Osceolo’s sneer followed him:

“The One-Who-Is-Afraid-Of-His-Shadow! Gaspar – Coward!”

No boy could patiently endure this insult, even though it came from one much larger and stronger than himself. Gaspar’s jacket was off and his arms bared on the instant; but before he could fling himself against his enemy a strong hand was laid upon his own shoulder, and he was tossed aside as lightly as a leaf.

“Hold! Let there be none of this. It is a time for peace in our village. Wait in patience. The hour is coming, is almost here, when both the pale-face and the son of my tribe will have need of all their prowess. Go. Polish your arrows and point their heads, but let there be none of this.”

It was the great chief himself, who had separated the combatants, and as he stalked majestically onward he left behind him two greatly astonished and ashamed young warriors. In common, no grown brave bothered himself over the petty squabbles of striplings; unless, indeed, it might be to incite them to further conflicts. For the Black Partridge to interfere now was significant of something far deeper than a boyish fight.

Gaspar put on his coat and walked thoughtfully home to Wahneenah and Kitty, while Osceolo slunk away to his own haunts, to lie at length upon the grass and plot with a cunning worthy of better ends the various devices by which he could torment the young white lad of whom he was so jealous.

Wahneenah heard the tale with a gravity that impressed the chief’s action more strongly than before upon the lad’s mind; while Kitty took it upon herself to lecture him with all severity about the dreadful “naughtiness of striking that poor, dear Ossy boy.”

“Hmm, Sunny Maid! you needn’t waste pity on him. He doesn’t deserve it.”

“Maybe not, Dark-Eye. Maybe not. But heed you the warning. The dwellers in one village should keep that village quiet,” interrupted Wahneenah.

“Yes, but they don’t. There are almost as many sorts of Indians here as there are people. Some of them are horrible. I see them often watching Kitty and me as if they would like to scalp us. It’s been worse within a little while. It grows worse all the time.”

“All the more reason why you should be wise and careful. But it is dark in the tepee, and that’s a sign the Dust Chief is almost ready to shut up your eyes. Run, Gaspar, son, and Girl-Child. See which will sleep the first. And to the one who does, the bigger lump of my best sugar in the morning.”

They ran, as she suggested, but there was to be no further haste till Kitty had made Gaspar kneel beside her and repeat with her the “Now I lay me” little prayer, which her Fort mothers had taught her. The short, simple prayer, beloved of childhood the world over, that has carried many a white soul upward to its Father. Even to Wahneenah, though her mission training had been of another creed, the childish petition was full of sacredness and beauty; and as she stood near them, she bowed her head humbly and echoed it with all her heart.

Each was in bed soon after, and each with a lump of the toothsome dainty they loved.

“For Gaspar must have it because he was first; and my Girl-Child because she was the last. That equals everything.”

They thought it did, delightfully: if they stayed awake long enough to think at all. But when they were both asleep, and the sound of their soft breathing echoed through the dusky tepee, Wahneenah took her seat at its entrance, and began to sing low and softly, with a sweetness of voice which rendered even their rudeness musical, the love songs of her girlhood.

As she sang and gazed upward through the trees into the starlit sky, an infinite peace stole over her. Indeed, the joy that possessed her seemed almost startling to herself. All that was sad in her memories dropped from them, and left but their happiness; while the present closed about her as a delight that nothing could disturb. Her love for the Sun Maid had become almost a passion with her, and for her Dark-Eye there was ever an increasing and comprehending affection.

She remained so long, dreaming, remembering, and planning, that the first grayness of the dawn came before she could go within and take her own bit of sleep. But Muck-otey-pokee was always early astir; and if for no other reason, because the dogs which thronged the settlement would allow no quiet after daybreak. That morning they were unusually restless.

Cried Wahneenah, rising suddenly, and now feeling somewhat the effects of her late sitting:

“Can it be sun-up already? The beasts are wild this morning. I have never heard them so deafening.”

Nor had anybody else. There was no cessation in their barking.

“It’s a regular ‘bedlam,’ isn’t it? That’s what the Fort mothers used to say when there was target practice, and the children cheered the shooters. What makes them bark so?” answered Gaspar.

Wahneenah shivered, and suggested:

“Run out and play. Eh? What’s that? The Snake-Who-Leaps? So early, and with the horses, too? But mind him not. Take the Sun Maid out-of-doors, but keep close to the green before the lodge. Where I can see you now and then, while I get breakfast ready.”

Everybody was up; and more than one commented upon the strangeness of the three horses being brought to the tepee so early.

The warning message which had come from the south, and had been delivered to his chief by the Snake-Who-Leaps, on that dark night some weeks before, was now to be verified. “What the red men have done to the pale-faces, the pale-faces will now do to them. Retaliation and revenge!”

Yet not one was quite prepared for the events which followed. Followed even so swiftly that the women left their porridge cooking in their kettles and their cows half-milked; while the men of the village promptly seized the nearest weapon, and rushed to the hopeless defence.

The rude sound that had startled every dweller in that pretty settlement was the report of a gun. Then came a galloping troop of cavalry – more firing – incessant, indiscriminate!

There was a babel of shrieks as the women and little ones fell where they stood, in the midst of their work or play. There were the blood-curdling war-whoops of the savages, answering the random shots. Above and through all, one cry rang clear to Wahneenah’s consciousness.

“The horses! The horses! Ride – ride – ride – as I have taught you! For your lives – Ride!”

It was but an instant. Wahneenah and her children were amount and afield. But as, in an anguish of fear for his friends, and no thought of himself, once more the Snake-Who-Leaps shouted his warning, the whistle of a death-dealing bullet came to him where he watched, and struck him down across the threshold of Wahneenah’s happy home.