Nattie Nesmith/Chapter 9

by Sophia Homespun

 

Chapter IX.

Weariness.

HREE months passed less heavily than Nattie had anticipated. It gratified her to feel that she was, in some sense, superior to her captors; and the occupation of her hands relieved the sadness of her heart. She became gradually more accustomed to Indian habits and usages. She was less shocked by their uncivilized manners, and even found some amusement in their rough mode of life. But the hope, which at first buoyed her up, lost some of its strength as time passed by and she saw that it was not realized. This strong hope had been, "—Father will find me and take me home."

But months had passed since she was brought to the wigwam in the forest, and still her father had not found her. Would he ever do so? She began to fear not.

The old chief was expected home now. His coming was talked of daily. He was to bring Torch Eye with him; and Nattie was given to understand that she must look upon the youth as her future husband. The prospect caused her much uneasiness. She could not give up the hope of being restored to her friends. Latterly, there had been distressing pains in her forehead, and often, when she was bending over her bead-work, there would come a sudden dazzle, followed by a confusion in which all sight was for a moment suspended. Then sickness and nausea would follow, and the work would have to be put by for the day, while she went forth with the papooses to gather fuel in the woods, or help dig a row of potatoes for the evening meal, or prepare wood for the fire.

One day, when she was working a long piece of lettering on black cloth, with white beads, she suddenly sprang to her feet, and pressing her hands against her eye lids, cried out:

"My work looks like a sheet of fire. Send me to the forest, mammy, where I can dip my head in the cool spring."

Nattie was never permitted to go anywhere alone, not even to the hovel, to milk the long-horned cow. So the squaw turned to Fox Heart and Light-foot, and said:

"Go with Tulip to the spring down by the beech tree, and bring her back safely when she has bathed her head."

The two lads led out the girl, who staggered as she went.

When they were gone, Black-bird said to her mother:

"The white beads are doing their work on Tulip, aren't they? She won't stand it very much longer."

The old squaw nodded, and answered:

"I didn't think that she would hold out so long. We shall have to put by the bead-work a spell, and go to basketing. If there is anything that will bring craze and death, it is white beads and colored broad-cloth. I have seen more than one fine, handsome young squaw killed with the work. But we have got a nice pile of cushions made. Tulip has done all the white beading. The other colors are easy enough handled, so my eyes have stood it twice as lung as they could without her help."

"Why don't you keep her at it?" said Black-bird, spitefully; "she don't mistrust what is the matter with her, and you might as well work on."

"It would spoil her," was the answer, "so that she could never be any help to us again, and your father will be angry, if he finds her hurt."

"Well, I wish she had never come here," said Black-bird.

"Be not foolish in regard to the pale-face," said the old squaw. "Though the poor creature can help us some, what is she for beauty or wit when set beside my handsome Black-bird."

"I don't like her," said the Indian maid.

"Nor does the Red Rose love the pale-face," returned the squaw; "but we do not want her to get back to her own people. They might ther come down upon us, and destroy our wigwams, or bear off our chief to a prison for having stolen one of their race. Sorry was the day to me when I saw the girl under your father's blanket; but he will believe that the Great Spirit sent her into his path to be taken as a bride for his son, Torch Eye, whose mother was of the white race."

The boys now came in, leading Nattie, or Tulip, as they called her.

"She is half blind," said Fox Heart; "for when she looks at me, she says that she can see just one half of me."

Black-bird and her mother exchanged significant glances, at these words.

"The dazzle of the beads is on her," whispered the squaw, rising to lay a mat near the open door, to place the girl upon.

Little Sweet Fern and the boys gathered around the couch.

"I am holding up my hand," said Light-foot; "look, Tulip, and tell me if you can see more than half of it."

"I can see just half of it," Nattie answered; "and I can see just half of a great tree, in the edge of the woods, and the shape of the lower limbs makes me think of an apple tree at home, into which I used to climb, and jump from it to the roof of our house."

"What made you want to do so" asked Light-foot.

"Oh, I used to like to sit on the roof under the branches of the tree, and read story books, and eat apples, and look over the country."

"That wasn't half so nice as running in the woods, I am sure," said Light-foot.

"Nor as shooting arrows at a board," added Fox Heart. "Did you have any brothers, when you was a white girl?"

Nattie winced at this question, spoken in a tone as if she had forever taken leave of her former self; but she had learned to be cautious in betraying her resentful feelings, so she answered simply, as she clasped her hands over her eyes again:

"No, not any little ones; but I have a little sister."

"Perhaps you haven't now," said Fox Heart; "and if you have, you won't see her any more, because you are Indian now, just like us. When pappy comes home, he will bring Torch Eye. Oh! he is a great tall boy, and his eyes are like fire; he will be your husband. Pappy got you on purpose for him. Perhaps, sometime, pappy will go again the long march to the white folks' land, and get your little sister for me."

Fox Heart laughed at what he considered a bright idea of his own, but Nattie felt her heart quiver with pain, and she thought it better for Tiny to die than be reserved for a fate like hers. She was very weary of suffering from the effects of sin, while she had no real sorrow for the sins themselves. There was no true repentance in her case, and if restored to her friends, in her present state of mind, she would, probably, relapse into her former habits, and be the same imperious, willful, bad girl as ever. God knew best when to withdraw the chastening hand, and the time was not yet.