CHAPTER XII
BATHSHEBA'S FEAST
Indian John had been slightly changing the direction in which they were running, although Little Peter had not perceived the change. At first they had kept close to the water's edge, and at times the creeping tide had rolled up to their feet. As his companion had gradually drawn closer to the higher ridge which extended somewhat farther back from the beach, Peter had thought nothing of the slight divergence, except that the Indian was desirous of keeping a little farther from the water.
Along this ridge in advance of him, Peter saw that thick bushes and stunted trees were growing, and he thought of the possibility of finding some hiding-place there; but he was hardly prepared for the change which Indian John then made. They had just passed a bend in the ridge which shut out the view of their pursuers, and come to a little gully which the winter storms had in the course of many years cut deep into the bank. Here Indian John turned sharply, and, bidding his companion follow him, turned directly into the woods, which extended from the shore far back into the adjoining country.
Little Peter instantly followed, but they had not gone many yards before they came suddenly upon a wigwam in the midst of the forest. Indian John stopped, and, after a few hurried words with the Indian who was standing near and who had silently watched the approaching fugitives, beckoned for Peter to follow him, and both entered the conical shaped dwelling and threw themselves upon the ground.
The lad was so thankful for the respite, and was so nearly exhausted by his efforts, that for a time he said nothing, being only too glad of an opportunity to rest. Every moment he expected to hear the voices of their pursuers, and more than once was on the point of starting forth from the hut and resuming his flight, so certain was he that the men had discovered the hiding-place.
After a time he was positive that he was not deceived. He could hear the voices of men in conversation with the Indians, and all of his fears returned. His companion placed his hand upon the arm of the trembling lad, and Peter waited, listening intently, and fearful every moment that some one would enter the hut and summon them to come forth.
The conversation lasted several minutes, and then abruptly ceased. Peter could not determine whether the strangers had departed or not; but he waited anxiously and did not speak.
The moments slowly passed and his suspense increased. It seemed to him that he must escape from the place in which he was concealed. The very air was strangely oppressive, and the ignorance as to what was going on outside the wigwam increased the anxiety of the frightened boy.
He did not know where he was, nor who were the people whose abode Indian John had so unceremoniously entered. No voice within or without the hut could now be heard, and the silence itself added to his alarm.
He could see that Indian John was seated upon the ground with his head resting upon his knees. He had not moved nor changed his position since they had entered. Motionless as a statue he remained seated, as if he were utterly unmindful of all about him.
"John!" whispered Little Peter at last.
The Indian raised his head and looked at his companion, but did not speak.
"John, don't you think we'd better start on again?"
Indian John still made no reply, and his head dropped again upon his knees. Peter then perceived that his companion intended neither to speak nor to depart, and that he must wait in silence for him to explain his purpose, or to act.
The impatient lad endeavored to possess his soul in patience, but as the moments passed his anxiety and fear increased. The uncertainty, he thought, was even more difficult to be borne than was the pursuit itself, for action of some kind was then possible, while this waiting in silence was almost unbearable. Not a sound could now be heard. The very birds were silent under the burning heat of the noontime, and the grating notes of the crickets had ceased.
At last it seemed to him he could bear it no longer, and he was about to arise and go forth from the hut, regardless of consequences, when some one entered and spoke a few words in an unknown tongue to Indian John.
"Come," said the Indian gently, standing erect as he spoke; and Little Peter at once followed him out into the open air.
He glanced quickly about him, but no one was to be seen except three Indians, one of whom was a man, and the others, two women. Little Peter instantly recognized them as Moluss, or "Charlie" Moluss, as many of the whites called him, and his wife and her sister.
The two women were busily engaged in preparing the contents of a small iron vessel, which was hanging from a stick supported by two forked branches, driven into the ground, and beneath which a brisk fire was burning.
One of the women was feeding the fire, while the other was stirring the contents of the hanging pot. A savory odor greeted Little Peter's nostrils, and as soon as he perceived that he was in no immediate danger he realized that he was hungry; and, with the passing of his alarm, there came an eager interest in the occupation of the two women before him.
Little Peter had seen the trio many times before this. They had their home with others of their tribe in a little settlement several miles back in the interior. This settlement was commonly known as Edgepelick, or Edge Pillock, and to it the Indians had gradually withdrawn after they had disposed of their lands, for the good people of Old Monmouth were as scrupulous as their New England cousins in not taking the lands from the dusky owners without giving a so-called equivalent for them.
It is true that this "equivalent" sometimes was a barrel of cider, or a piece of bright-colored cloth; but perhaps the Indians thought that was better than nothing, and as their lands were certain to be taken from them, even such an equivalent as that which was offered was not to be despised, and so they had submitted to the unequal exchange. At all events, the exchanges had been made, and in the summer of 1778, many of the Indian families were dwelling in Edge Pillock, and there continued to reside until the year 1802, when the men who had driven such shrewd bargains with them caused them all to be removed to Oneida Lake, in the neighboring State of New York.
Charlie Moluss, with his wife and her sister, had been frequent visitors in Little Peter's home, and he knew them almost as well as he did Indian John. Somehow, they had not been content to abide continuously in Edge Pillock, and at least twice each year came down to the shore, where they erected a wigwam, and while Moluss fished and gathered oysters and clams, the women made baskets and sold them among the scattered homes of the settlers. Doubtless this, then, was their annual visit, thought Little Peter, and their abiding place had been known to Indian John, who had sought its shelter as a place of refuge from their pursuers. And Little Peter was quite content, at least for the present, and his feeling of relief was not diminished by the savory odor which now arose from the iron vessel.
Charlie Moluss's wife was a strikingly handsome Indian woman, and was known as Bathsheba, which the irreverent settlers had shortened into "Bath," as they had her sister's name into "Suke."
Bathsheba was considered as an Indian queen, and the respect which the Indians showed her was, to a certain extent, shared by the white people, especially by the Quakers. She was regarded as a highly intelligent woman, and the most prominent people of the region were always glad to welcome her to their homes.
Little Peter thought of all these things as he seated himself upon the ground beside the two men, who were, apparently, as deeply interested in the occupation of the women as was he, himself. The work went steadily on, and, while Peter found that his hunger was increasing, he nevertheless listened to what Indian John told him of Moluss's success in turning their pursuers back to their camp at Refugee Town. Some of them had followed the fugitives as far as the wigwam, but had turned away after the Indian had professed his inability to give them the information they desired, and, doubtless, before this time, were safely back in "'Gee Town," as Indian John termed their little settlement by the Hook.
Just why they had been pursued Indian John could not explain, but he had connected it in some way with the appearance of the boat off the shore, and Little Peter was not inclined to differ from his conclusion. He was satisfied now that his father was not to be found in Refugee Town, and he had decided to go farther down the shore to the place where he thought he would be likely to find Captain Dennis, or some of the local militia who had been stationed near to protect the salt works and strive to hold back the pine robbers, many of whom had their places of concealment not far away.
Just at present, however, the thought of his dinner was uppermost in his mind. He eagerly watched Bathsheba and her sister in their work, and, from their movements, he concluded that his waiting time was soon to end. One of the women entered the wigwam and brought out several small wooden bowls. Into these she dipped some of the steaming contents of the iron vessel, placing each bowl upon the ground when it had been filled.
A word from Bathsheba caused Moluss to arise, and, approaching the fire, he took one of the bowls in both hands and then seated himself upon the ground and proceeded to blow with his breath upon the soup, preparatory to drinking it.
His example was speedily followed by Indian John and Little Peter, who took their bowls and seated themselves beside Moluss on the ground. An expression of deep satisfaction was manifest upon the faces of the two men, while the women, apparently proud of their success in the culinary art, looked on with evident pleasure. Little Peter also raised the bowl in his hands and blew upon it.
"Good!" said Moluss, taking a long draught. "Good hop! Hop good!"
"Good!" muttered Indian John, following his friend's example. "Good hop! Good hop!"
"What?" said Little Peter suddenly, placing his bowl again on the ground before him as he spoke. "What was that you said, John?"
"Good! Good hop," replied the Indian, with evident satisfaction.
"You don't mean to say that hop-toads are in this soup, do you?"
"Um!" replied Indian John, with a grunt of pleasure. "Good! Little hop-hop! John like um! Good hop! John like um little hop-hop!" And, suiting the action to the word, he proceeded to take a deeper draught of the savory mixture.
All of Little Peter's hunger, however, had disappeared. He quickly arose from his seat, and, with an expression of disgust upon his face, which he could not entirely repress, prepared to pass the group and go into the forest.
A loud laugh greeted his action, and as he passed Moluss, the Indian held forth his bowl, and said, "Peter like um hop-hop? Good! Moluss like um hop-hop! John like um hop-hop! Squaw like um hop-hop! All like um hop-hop! All like um hop-hop! Peter like um, too?"
Little Peter was not to be tempted, and the broad grin upon the faces of the women, as well as the loud laugh of the men which followed him as he turned into the forest, did not tend to overcome his feeling of disgust. How was it possible that they could be willing to eat such filthy creatures as hop-toads? Little Peter was all in ignorance of some of the dainty viands which, under high-sounding names, are served up in our modern restaurants, and so, as a matter of course, could draw no comparison between the tastes of the rude, uncivilized savages and those of the more highly cultivated men of our own times. Perhaps he would not have compared them if he had been possessed of the prophet's foresight. He knew, however, that his own hunger had disappeared, and as he walked on he found many excuses for his uncivilized friends. They were welcome to their own customs, but they must not expect him to join them in their feasts.
He had gone so far from the wigwam by this time that he thought the repast, which had so highly delighted his friends, would be ended by the time he could walk back. Accordingly, he reversed his steps, but as he walked on his own pressing problem returned in full force.
His father was not to be found in Refugee Town, of that he felt certain; for, while Indian John had not said much, he knew him so well that he was satisfied he had known whereof he had spoken.
Where, then, could he be? It was currently reported that Fenton's band had a place in the lower part of the county, to which they carried their booty and from which they started forth on their raids. It was just possible that his father had been taken there by the outlaws in their flight, but he would not long be retained there. Fenton knew what American prisoners were worth in the New York market, and, doubtless, he would find some means by which he could send him there. And the pine robber would act soon, too, for with the approach of the armies, there would be many opportunities for his own special work, and he would not long be hampered by the presence of a single prisoner, whose value would be slight compared with that of the plunder he might secure.
Little Peter decided that what he was to do he must do quickly. He would start at once for the place where Captain Dennis's men were said to be, and place the entire matter in their hands. The captain was a man whose bravery was well known in Old Monmouth, and he was ever ready to aid the scattered settlers.
Captain Dennis would surely help him, too, Peter thought, and, with his heart somewhat lightened, he began to walk more rapidly. He would return to the wigwam and inform Indian John of his decision. If John would go with him, he would be glad of his aid, but, whether he went or not, the lad felt that his own problem was, in a measure, already solved.
"Little Peter, is that you?"
The startled lad looked up quickly at the unexpected summons, and saw, standing directly in his pathway, nine men. Each had a musket in his hands, but they wore no uniforms, and for a moment Little Peter could not determine whether they were friends or foes.