There were many surmises among the people when it was known that he was gone. Many conjectures were made, and when some hunters returned along the trail which led to his own village, and reported that the tracks of his sled and snow-shoes were not seen in that direction, they were all the more surprised; and it was a long time ere they had any hint of where he had gone or the cause which had taken him away.
Chapter Thirteen.
The Sudden Disappearance.
The mysterious disappearance of Oowikapun from the village of his friends caused a good deal of excitement and innocent gossip. That he was deeply in love with Astumastao was evident to all, and while she did not allow even her most intimate friends to hear her say that she intended to marry him, yet her conduct very plainly indicated that he stood higher than anyone else in her esteem. That she had positively rejected him none of them could believe. Why then had he thus shown the white feather, and so ignominiously and so suddenly left the field when it seemed so evident that a little more perseverance would have surely resulted in his success. In this way the young men and maidens of the village talked, while the old men gravely smoked the calumets and mourned that the times were so changed that a young brave should have so much trouble in capturing a squaw.
When Astumastao was informed of the sudden disappearance of Oowikapun she was troubled and perplexed. Not the slightest hint had he given her of his intended movements when, like a flash, there had come to him the great resolve to be the one who should go on the long journey to find the missionary. She was a maiden, not beautiful, but she was a comely Indian girl, attractive and clever in her way, and she well knew that many a young hunter had sat down beside her wigwam door or had dropped the shining, white pebble before her in the path, thus plainly intimating his desire to win her notice and esteem. But to all of them she had turned a deaf ear, and had treated them, without exception, with perfect indifference. As shy and timid as a young fawn of the forest, she had lived under the watchful and somewhat jealous care of her uncle and aunt, until Oowikapun had appeared in the village.
His coming, however, and his reference to Memotas had strangely broken the quiet monotony of years. Then what she had done for him in the wigwam, their conversation in the trail, and above all, his gallant rescue of her from the terrible catamount, had aroused new emotions within her and opened up her mind to a wider vision, until now she saw that she was no longer the young free Indian girl with no thoughts but those of her childhood, but a woman who must now act and decide for herself. But with the characteristic reserve of her people she kept all the newborn emotions and aspirations hid in her heart.
The power to control the feelings and passions among the Indians is not confined to the sterner sex. Schooled in a life of hardship, the women as well as the men can put on the mask of apparent indifference, while at the same time the heart is racked by intensest feeling, or the body is suffering most horrid torture. Death in its most dreadful form may be staring them in the face, and yet the outsider may look in vain for the blanching of the cheek, or the quivering of a muscle. Very early in life does this stern education begin.
“That is my best child,” said an Indian father, as he pointed out an apparently happy little girl seven or eight years old, in his wigwam.