The following morning Rodney chanced to see the half-breed, “Maman,” as Louis called her, though Rodney felt sure she was not his mother, talking very earnestly with Caughnega and their talk ceased when he approached, which aroused his suspicion. He made inquiries of Louis and learned that Caughnega was the “medicine man” of the village and possessed influence. Ahneota was the more influential and the boy shrewdly guessed that Caughnega was jealous.
A chief of a tribe maintained his influence through no laws, for the Indians had none. The position might be strengthened by the chief having influential relatives, but this did not appear to be true of Ahneota. Generally speaking, a chief retained his place because the tribe trusted and respected him, as it was evident they did Ahneota. Not only members of his tribe, 71 but other Indians, came and held counsel with him. At first Rodney hesitated about calling on the chief but gradually became a daily visitor at his lodge.
One of the accomplishments which Rodney had learned from Thello was fishing. When leaving home he had taken a good linen line and several iron hooks. Indians speared or netted most of the fish they took, but occasionally angled for them with bone hooks and lines made of twisted fibre. The boy obtained permission to fish and in this way often contributed to the food supply of the village.
Food was held in common. Any one having it was expected to share equally with the others. When luck smiled on the boy he was careful to have a nicely broiled fish to take to Ahneota. He also attempted to make friends with Conrad but always met with a surly reception.
Louis was so friendly as to be almost a nuisance, especially as Rodney believed the little fellow’s fondness for him was a cause for the dislike of Conrad and “Maman.” The little boy, whenever he could escape the watchfulness of “Maman” would pay a visit to Rodney’s wigwam, which had been made quite substantial, being covered with strips of elm bark. Louis was always clamouring for stories about white people and one evening, Rodney replied: “I have told you all my stories. Now you must tell me some; tell me of the place where you lived before you came here. Is ‘Maman’ your real mother and is your father living?”
A startled look came into the lad’s big brown eyes. He peered about in the growing dusk, then he said: “You will not tell? Maman says she will kill me if I tell. Maman is not my mother. She had eyes like flowers and papa, he was gentilhomme, would carry her in his arms when she was sick. He was tall like Ahneota, only his eyes were not so black. Mamma called him her soldier.”
“Where is he now?” asked Rodney, thoroughly interested.
“He went away after mamma died and I went to live with grandmere above Lachine. Marie, that’s Maman, she says I must call her that, she was a servant for grandmere, who died last harvest. She was not sick a long time like mamma, but only a few days. Marie said it was small-pox, and we must go away and find papa, but we have not found him. I want to see my papa,” and Louis threw himself sobbing on the ground.
Rodney stroked his long yellow hair and called him “Yellow Locks,” but the little chap peevishly exclaimed, “I like Louis better. I don’t want to be called ‘Yellow Locks.’”