The Belt of Seven Totems: A Story of Massasoit

by Kirk Munroe

He had been so fortunate as to discover the winter den of a bear, which he had also succeeded in killing, so that now he could offer his guest not only the warmth of a shaggy robe but an abundance of meat. Instead of half-burning and half-cooking a chunk of this on the coals, as was the custom of his people, he displayed a rudiment of civilization by cutting it up into small bits and stewing them in his copper kettle.

After the youths had eaten heartily of this meal, which, simple as it was, proved more satisfactory to Nahma than the very best of those given him in Quebec, they spent several hours in discussing their plans for the future and in examining Tasquanto's treasures. Having overcome his awe of the thunder-stick sufficiently to take it in his hands, Nahma became anxious to test its powers. He had seen Champlain discharge his musket, and knew that it was done through the agency of a lighted slow-match applied to the priming-pan. His knowledge of the firing of a gun was thus far in advance of Tasquanto's, who, having never witnessed the operation at close range, had no idea of how it was accomplished. But he was quite willing to learn, and so it was agreed that on the following morning Nahma should give the owner of the musket his first lesson in its use.

Both of them were so excited over the prospect of experimenting for their own benefit with the deadly thunder of the white man that they lay awake most of the night discussing their proposed adventure; and, as a consequence, slept much later than they had intended on the following morning. The day was well advanced, therefore, when the two lads, after preparing and eating another hearty meal, stepped outside to test their newly acquired weapon. It was carried by Nahma, who, nervous with excitement, still presented a bold front, while, under his direction, Tasquanto fetched a blazing brand from the fire.

Resting the barrel of his piece across the trunk of a prostrate tree and holding its stock at arm's length, Nahma bade his companion apply fire to the pan. With much trepidation and a strong desire to clap both hands to his ears, Tasquanto valiantly did as he was bidden, but without result. Again and again did he apply the glowing coal, but still the gun refused to obey the wishes of its inexperienced owners.

"It will only speak and deal out its death-medicine at the command of white men," said Tasquanto, disconsolately.

"Not so," replied Nahma, "for once I saw it obey the will of a Huron warrior. But I think I know what is needed. It must be turned over so that the flame may rise to it. Also in this weather the thunder-stick is so cold that it will take much fire to warm it into action. Make, therefore, a hot blaze, and I am assured that something will happen."

So Nahma turned the gun, and, forgetting to remain at arm's length, bent anxiously over the refractory piece, while Tasquanto built a regular fire beneath it. Of a sudden the musket went off with a tremendous report that roused the woodland echoes for miles. Also it sprang savagely backward, bowling over both Nahma and Tasquanto as though they had been ninepins. But the most astounding result of the discharge was a series of shrieks and yells that resounded through the forest as though it were peopled by a pack of demons. At the same time a number of leaping figures dashed from an extensive thicket at which the gun had been inadvertently pointed and fled as though for their lives. Something had assuredly happened.

As our bewildered lads cautiously lifted their heads to learn the extent of the damage done by the fearful force they had so recklessly let loose, each was thankful to see that the other was still alive. Next they glanced at the musket. It lay half buried in the snow, looking as innocent and harmless as a stick of wood; but they knew of what terrible things it was capable, and would hereafter be very careful how they allowed it to come into contact with fire. They were convinced that in some unexplained manner it could absorb flame until it had accumulated a certain quantity and could then eject this with deadly effect.

Being reassured concerning their own condition and the present harmlessness of the musket, they next bethought themselves of the dreadful cries that had seemed to mingle with the report, and they agreed that these must have been uttered by the Okis, or spirits of the forest, in protest against such a rude disturbance of its winter quiet. As they stiffly picked themselves up, Nahma declared his intention of visiting the thicket towards which the thunder-stick had been pointed, to see whether he could discover where its lightnings had struck. Tasquanto tried to dissuade him, declaring that the place must be the abode of Okis; but to this Nahma answered that if so they were certainly frightened away for the present, which would therefore be the best time to visit their haunts.