“Oh! mother,” cried Gay, rushing into the arms of Netnokwa, “it is I who have done this. You loved me, and preserved me, and I have called down the vengeance of the Prophet upon you.—Oh! that I were dead.—Wilt thou pardon me?—I did not intend it.”
“Rise, daughter,” said Netnokwa, gently unclasping Gay's hands, “Why weeps ‘Sweet Flower?’ Is it that Netnokwa is going to her long home? Like the old oak, she has spread out her arms to shelter her tribe; but her branches are now withered. She is no longer the green bough:—why should she remain? The blasted tree only tells of the storms which have passed. Netnokwa is tired of journeying. The end of her path will make her glad.”
“But, oh! mother,” cried Gay, “I have brought ruin upon you; and what will become of Miskwa?”
“She will follow her mother, if she is a trueborn maiden,” said Netnokwa. “Why weep that the fountain bursting forth, soon finds its way to the big lake? Why lament that the flower clothed in beauty, is cut down in summer? Why grieve that her path is short, and her journey soon ended? Netnokwa has been travelling long to her happy hunting grounds. The way is bad.—Her feet are bruised and sore with travel, and her arms wear the marks of thorns and briars. The face of ‘Sweet Flower’ is like the snow, but her heart is that of a red maiden,—she shall go with us; Netnokwa will tell the Great Spirit that her heart is good, and ask him to let her stay with his red children.” Gay could make no reply, her feelings were too strong for utterance, and she continued weeping.
Fancy never sketched a lovelier being, than was Miskwa at this moment; having composed herself, she stood drawn up to her full height, apparently firm, and manifested the hitherto undeveloped energies of her character. All fear was banished, and she stood calmly listening to the words of her mother, and struggling to keep down her sympathy for her friend. When Netnokwa finished speaking, Gay turned from her, and weeping, her eyes met Miskwa's; there was an eloquent interchange of thought, and starting forward, she again threw herself on her bosom. Miskwa spoke not; but her feelings were awakened by the sufferings of her friend, and though silent, she proved how deeply she felt; for two streams, which had their source in as pure an affection as ever kindled a human bosom, flowed fast and free.
Netnokwa now reminded them of the hour which Kenah had mentioned, as the time when they must set out upon their journey. It was sooner than the maidens expected, and Gay now mentioned what before she had only thought. “Oh! Miskwa, what will become of Rolfe and Oloompa, and how sadly will they be disappointed. Oh! that they had come before this.”
“They will follow us,” said Miskwa. “Oloompa will see what has happened. He can trace our steps. He may yet save us from the Prophet.”
“Heaven grant that he may,” said Gay, and again she began to weep,—and added, “oh! Miskwa, to be taken away at the very moment I believed I was to be made happy, and to leave him when he has been so long seeking me,—oh! it is hard, hard.”
Miskwa asked her to get together such articles as they would need, and to aid her mother, in making preparations for their journey, while she would attend to another duty. Gay left her, to comply with her request, and while she did this, Miskwa taking up some clay from the floor, moistened it, and kneading it into a pliant substance, seemed suddenly to forget her situation with the feelings which had agitated her, and was engaged, heart and soul, in fashioning into small images the clay she held in her hands. A few moments passed, and six little men, or figures which she regarded as such, were made, and placed upon a shelf behind her, with their faces fronting the direction in which she thought Kenah and his party would travel. Having examined them for a while, turned them around several times, and satisfied herself that they were properly arranged, she again resumed her task. Next came from her fingers an old woman, her figure bore the marks of great age, and rude as were her features, there were evidently marks of great wretchedness in her countenance. She was placed just in front of the six men, and it was evident that they were driving her along. Soon two little girls were placed by the side of the old woman, and having satisfied herself that they all occupied their exact positions, she was again at work. The next figure she made, was a man several times as large as any she had yet formed; he was made to stand on the farther edge of the shelf, and to him, the party seemed endeavoring to make their way. A number of little cabins were then made, and placed near him, and stretching out a small piece of clay, and curving it so as to represent the meanderings of a river, this was placed near the houses, and her task was completed. The whole had been the labour of a few minutes, and no one had observed her occupation. She then, with a lighter heart than she before possessed, joined her mother, and began to assist her and Gay in making their preparations to set out. None seemed disposed to converse, and in silence they continued their duty, at the same time bidding farewell to every little nook or corner, and imagining to themselves the reception and the fate, which awaited them at the Prophet's camp. With Gay, there were other thoughts which added to her unhappiness; it was the sad issue which was to attend Rolfe's exertions in her behalf.
Darkness was now settling over the land, when Kenah entered the lodge, and told Netnokwa that he was ready to set out. He again assured her of her safety, as well as that of her daughter and the captive, provided they obeyed his orders. He required that in setting out upon their journey, they should make no noise, nor attempt to escape, at the peril of their lives; but to proceed in such a manner as to create no surprise, even should they be seen. And that this she must do, until the whole party had passed beyond the reach of her tribe. In case he was discovered, he said he was ordered by the Prophet, first to kill her daughter, and then the captive and herself. These were hard requisitions. Netnokwa made no reply, but in obedience to Kenah, they all took up their bundles, and came out of the lodge. He then closed the door, giving to the cabin an appearance that its inmates had merely left it for a time, and soon after, the captives were surrounded, and ordered to move forward. Netnokwa and Miskwa obeyed in silence, but Gay, thinking that there it was she had expected to meet Rolfe, turned round, and gazing at the cabin, burst into a flood of tears, for with that look, she gave up all hope of ever seeing him again. As she did this, Kenah rudely caught her arm, and jerking her around, held his tomahawk in her face, then whispering in her ear, said, “Kenah's tomahawk loves the pale face's blood; it is now thirsty,—when the maiden makes a noise, it shall drink.” His words caused her to shudder, as though a serpent was creeping over her, and her cries were hushed. This movement was not seen by Miskwa or Netnokwa, and Gay, as soon as she recovered a little from the shock which Kenah's words had given her, bent her steps towards them, and they all moved forward in the deepest silence.