CHAPTER XXIV NAHMA REMEMBERS
Most welcome of all the guests at Nahma's lodge was the little lady Betty, who was sometimes taken thither by her father mounted in front of him on his great Flemish horse Baldric. A strong friendship had sprung up between the child and the young Indian, and she was never happier than during the hour occasionally spent with him. She always brought some little gift, and he never failed to have ready a unique bit of his own handiwork to offer in return. Once it was a wee bow and a quiver of small stone-headed arrows. Again he presented her with the beautifully dressed skin of an otter. At length he completed a pair of tiny snow-shoes gayly fringed and ornamented. For some days after they were finished he waited expectantly the coming of his little friend, and as she failed to appear, he finally decided to take his gift to the castle.
Now, it happened that Sir Amory, being called by some business to the near-by city of Bristol, had taken his wife and little daughter with him for a brief visit, from which they had just returned. As was usual on such occasions, they had brought back a number of trifling gifts for members of the household, and also one for the young Indian whom they held in such high esteem.
The city of Bristol, more than any other in England, was building up a trade with the New World. While this trade was more especially with the Virginia plantations, it was gradually extending northward along the American coast. Thus a ship, recently returned, had voyaged as far north as the French settlements, trading with natives wherever found on her way. This ship had brought back many curious things, among which was an object of native make that Sir Amory, having his Indian guest in his mind, purchased on sight.
"It may interest him," he said to his wife, "and, at any rate, it will be something for Betty to take him when next she and I ride to his lodge." So this present was fetched home with the others, and was to have been carried out to Nahma on the very day of his appearance at the castle.
On learning that the Indian waited outside with a gift for Betty, Sir Amory ordered him to be brought in. The knight and his lady together with several guests were grouped near the huge fireplace in the great hall as Nahma entered and, advancing gravely, extended a hand to his host. Then, looking about inquiringly, he pronounced the single word "Betty."
"I' faith!" laughed the knight, "the young man hath quickly recognized the most important personage of this establishment and will have dealings with none other. Let Mistress Betty be brought."
As soon as the little girl appeared, the young Indian, kneeling gracefully, presented her with his gift. After the tiny snow-shoes had been passed from hand to hand for inspection and their use had been explained, Lady Effingham said,—
"Now, Betty, give him the present fetched from Bristol."
Thus saying she placed a small packet in the child's hand, and the latter, advancing shyly, handed it to Nahma. With a smiling face the young warrior undid the wrappings of the packet until its contents were exposed. Suddenly his expression changed to one of consternation and bewilderment. For a moment he held the object in his hands gazing at it wildly and in evident perplexity. Then he uttered a great cry and a gush of tears filled his eyes. He gasped and seemed about to speak; but, words failing him, he turned and fled from the hall, leaving its occupants amazed at his strange actions.
"It is doubtless a native charm of some kind," quoth the knight, breaking the silence, "and a powerful one at that, for never did I see a man so upset by a trifle. After a little, when he has had time to quiet down, I will question him concerning his agitation, but until then we must amuse ourselves with conjecture."
In the mean time Nahma had not paused in his flight until reaching his own lodge. There he sat down and examined his newly acquired prize with minutest care, alternately laughing and crying as he did so. At length, apparently satisfied with his inspection, he said aloud in the long forgotten tongue of the Wampanoags,—
"Truly it is my father's wampum, and I am Nahma, the son of Longfeather."
It was indeed the Belt of Seven Totems, thus marvellously restored to him from whose unconscious form it had been taken nearly three years earlier in the far-away land of the Iroquois. Not only had Nahma thus regained his father's badge of authority, but at sight of it the memory of his earlier years, lost to him ever since he had been struck down by Miantinomo, was abruptly and fully restored. He recalled who he was and found himself once more in command of his native tongue. He also remembered every incident of his journey to the country of the Maqua as though it had been undertaken but the day before. He even remembered lying down for a brief rest after eating his supper on the western bank of the Shatemuc; but beyond that came a blank, and his next memory was of Aeana in the lodge of Kaweras.
As these things passed through his mind in rapid review, he was also whelmed by a great wave of home-sickness. The voices of his own people rang in his ears, and he heard the plash of waves on the beach at Montaup. The scent of burning cedar from the evening camp-fires was in his nostrils, and he felt the spring of brown pine needles beneath his feet as he threaded the dim forest trails of his native land. In a bark canoe he once more ran the foaming rapids of great rivers, or, lying beside Tasquanto, he was lulled to sleep by the roar of mighty cataracts. So distinct were the pictures thus flashed before him by the magic belt that he had no longer a wish to live unless he could once more gaze upon them in reality. Every other feeling was merged in an intense desire to regain his own country and rejoin his own people.
At length the longing for these things became so great that the youth sprang to his feet, determined to set forth at once in quest of them. His reason told him that such an adventure was well-nigh hopeless; but the wampum belt urged him forward and persuaded him that by some means he would succeed. So Nahma departed forever from the lodge that, but an hour earlier, had seemed his home for life, and set forth on the tremendous journey. He took with him only his weapons, a fur cloak, the fire-bag that had once belonged to Aeana, and the Belt of Seven Totems girded about his body next his skin.
As he emerged from the lodge he stood for a moment irresolute. Whither should he turn? What path would lead him to Montaup? Then the last word uttered in his hearing by Betty's mother rang again in his ears. It was "Bristol." From there the belt had but recently come, and there he would begin to retrace its mysterious course to the place where he had lost it. He had heard the foresters speak of Bristol, and he knew that it lay in the direction of the setting sun. What Bristol was, or how far away, he did not know, any more than what he should do upon getting there. It was enough that his first step was decided upon, and without a single backward glance he began his long homeward journey.
An hour later Sir Amory on his good horse Baldric, and with mistress Betty in his arms, rode up to the deserted lodge and uttered a cheery call for its supposed occupant to come forth. The knight was puzzled at finding the place empty; and for several days thereafter he caused search to be made for its recent owner. But nothing came of this, nor for many years did he hear a word concerning the disappearance and whereabouts of Massasoit.
That night Nahma slept in the wood, as lonely and friendless a human being as could be found in all the world, but so happy in his regained memory and in the knowledge that he, like others, could now lay claim to home and people, towards whom he was journeying, that nothing else mattered. On the morrow he struck the broad trail of a highway that led to the westward, and thereafter he followed it. Noting that his appearance attracted attention from the few travellers whom he met, he determined to procure a suit of clothing that would render him less conspicuous.
He dreaded to approach a house, and was at a loss how to accomplish his purpose until at dusk of the second day. Then he ran across a camp-fire surrounded by a group of dark-skinned persons, who for a moment he believed to be people of his own race. He did not discover his mistake until he was within the circle of fire-light and it was too late to retreat. So he put on a bold face, accepted an invitation to eat with the gypsies, and strove hard, though without success, to understand what they said.
They in turn were as much puzzled by him as he was by them; but this did not prevent them from exchanging a well-worn suit of clothing for Nahma's fur robe when he intimated by signs his willingness to make such a trade. As soon as he procured these things he put them on over his buckskin garments; and, as a dilapidated cap had been thrown in to complete the bargain, he was so thoroughly disguised that even Sir Amory would have failed to recognize him.
The gypsies invited their guest to cast his fortunes with them, and proposed among themselves to compel him to do so in any event. He neither declined nor accepted their offer, but after a while lay down to sleep near their fire, as though willing, at any rate, to remain with them for the present. Thus they were much chagrined to find in the morning that he had disappeared without leaving a trace to show which way he had gone.
So it happened that our wanderer came at length to the snug little seaport of Bristol, at that time second in importance only to London. And thus was taken the first step of his momentous journey. Dusk was falling as he entered the place, and for some time he wandered aimlessly through its narrow streets.
Then, unexpectedly, he came to the water front and discovered ships, some under sail and others anchored in the stream. His heart leaped at sight of them, for he supposed that all ships passed to and from his own country. Therefore if he could only find one about to depart, and contrive to get on board, the second and longest step of his journey would be provided for.
He managed to exchange his bow and arrows for a meal in a small public-house near the water, and when he had eaten it he again strolled outside looking for a place in which to pass the night. It was now quite dark, and, without going far, he lay down to sleep under the lee of a boat that was drawn up on one of the wharves.
Some hours later he was awakened by sounds of shouting and scuffling close at hand, and sprang to his feet in alarm. As he did so a rough voice called out,—
"Here's another stout fellow! Seize him, lads, and hustle him along."
Immediately Nahma was surrounded, and, despite his furious struggles, was quickly overthrown and securely bound.