Friend Seeker (Perry County, Pennsylvania Frontier Series) Page 9

  With a groan he bundled all his possessions into his sleeping robes and carried them with him while he located his bowl.

  The slapping game was humiliating, but the stone tossing was exhausting. Snake's Tongue sat comfortably on his favorite log with a large basket of small stones. Friend Seeker's task was simple. When the Snake threw a stone, he would catch it. Unfortunately, Snake's Tongue's vicious temperament surfaced and the simple task approached barely possible.

  The Snake flipped stones to the left, to the right, far behind, and almost at his feet. Still, Friend Seeker rarely missed a stone. The Snake's judgment was unerring and by straining mightily, the Seeker was just able to catch each stone. He leaped and darted, stretching far, landing on his face only to scramble for a high lofting toss that was aimed where he had just stood. It was impossible to anticipate Snake's Tongue's intentions and Friend Seeker quickly avoided guessing, for he was surely wrong, and each time he missed Snake's Tongue calmly selected a new handful of stones.

  As Friend Seeker tired, Snake's Tongue shortened his throws so that the catcher could still succeed, but if the Seeker attempted to fake weariness, the Snake somehow knew and stretched him still further. The game never ended until Friend Seeker's legs grew weak and quivery and his stomach was sick with exhaustion.

  Although Snake's Tongue occasionally resorted to other harassments, slapping, stone-throwing, and two other games were his mainstays. The other two games were switch and arrow dodging. Again comfortably seated, Snake's Tongue would lash at Friend Seeker's ankles with assorted switches. Some were quite limber and left angry welts where they struck. Others were thick and left dark bruises. The Seeker's ankles were not good to look at, for his dancing and dodging were done on top of a flat stone affording room only for his feet.

  Arrow dodging was dangerous. Snake's Tongue used blunt, pointless arrows, but they struck hard and could draw blood. Friend Seeker was obliged to keep a foot on top of a stone as the arrow flew at him. In the beginning, Snake's Tongue shot a single arrow from well out, but as Friend Seeker improved, he fired faster and from closer range.

  At a distance, a good bowman could put three arrows into the air at once, but at close range Friend Seeker had only one arrow at a time to contend with. When he complained, Snake's Tongue handed him the bow and placed his own foot on the stone. The Seeker drew to his chin and held on the Snake's belly which could not move as swiftly as head or hand. At his shot the Snake leaned aside only enough to let the arrow miss and to Friend Seeker's astonishment and chagrin, the Snake began catching passing arrows with lightning darts of his hands.

  The days at Chit-chit were long. Snake's Tongue enjoyed his work as much as Friend Seeker hated it. Yet the Seeker could feel himself improving. His balance became certain and his recoveries gained speed. His footwork quickened and his reactions accelerated. Occasionally he scored in the slapping contests and often he made Snake's Tongue miss. Now he too sometimes caught a passing arrow and he became much harder to hit.

  The Seeker could feel his concentration focusing ever more powerfully. Increasingly often he succeeded in anticipating Snake's Tongue's throw or switchings. When he succeeded it was gratifying but he doubted that even if he practiced until old he could ever approach the quickness of Snake's Tongue. The Shawnee was truly unusual.

  Word finally came from Three Feathers. Friend bid Snake's Tongue farewell. He rechecked his possessions to make certain that the Tongue had not retained any. He moved away and had gone some distance when a wild shriek spun him around. Snake's Tongue stood with arrow nocked to his bow and as Friend Seeker turned he released it in humming flight straight for the Seeker's chest.

  Instinctively, Friend Seeker faded aside and snatched the arrow neatly from the air. It had been easy at a distance of many paces, but his stomach knotted when he saw that he held a war arrow with its flint point sharp and true.

  Throat dry he raised the arrow to Snake's Tongue who held his bow high in acknowledgment. Friend Seeker stuck the arrow into the earth where Snake's Tongue could recover it and stepped into the forest.

  — — —

  Chapter 9

  It was a good year on the Buffalo Creek. Except for the Piscataway raid, the Great Spirit had smiled on the village. No women died in childbirth, fish clogged both river and stream, and the fields grew thick crops. Hunting too had been successful and few lodges chose to move to other sites.

  In the fall the Cold Giant brightened the woods, warning of bitter weather to come, and lodges began preparations to return to permanent winter homes. There was discussion in the village of how the training of their warrior should continue. Only Three Feathers could say how it must be done, but the other uncles enjoyed speculating about it.

  Three Feathers let it continue until the chill mornings caused a flurry of packing and preparations. Then he assembled those interested into council at his lodge fire. Uninvited, Friend Seeker chose to loiter without where he could hear most of what was said.

  Eventually the usual complaining of old injuries and unappreciative squaws died away and all of the pipes were drawing well. Then Three Feathers told his plan.

  "Through the hot time, Friend Seeker has begun warrior training. All here have seen his labors and judged his progress.

  "In the proper way, Friend Seeker's tasks would be spread over many seasons and in truth would end only when he no longer followed the war trail. But his is a special task beyond which we must not look, as such thoughts might weaken Friend Seeker's determination.

  "To this time, we have tested the spirit of Friend Seeker. In so doing we have strengthened his body and taught him useful skills. In so doing we have hardened his heart until it is calloused like a warrior's palm. In so doing we have prepared him to meet his enemy in battle. '

  "When the grass again greens and the trees show new growth, Friend Seeker must be ready. To wait longer would make the preparation more important than the task.

  "Because there is much to be done, the lodge of Three Feathers will not return to the large village for the long nights." The announcement created a stir, for winter socializing in the permanent villages was anticipated with great pleasure. Forgoing that comfort and camaraderie was an important choice.

  "The lodge of Three Feathers will move to the hot springs at Sherman's Creek. There it will remain until the days again warm, at which time Friend Seeker will begin his search for Late Star."

  Three Feathers paused to shift into a more comfortable position before continuing, and even outside, Friend Seeker could hear his joints crack.

  "The short days will be important. From the Conedequinet village will come the squaw, One Flower, who has lived among the Piscataway. She will teach Friend Seeker the tongue of his enemy so he may know their words." Grunts of approval greeted that announcement and Friend Seeker added his own.

  "The Onondaga war leader, Oak Neck, has spoken of teaching Friend Seeker for a full moon. This too is good, for the Iroquois ways of fighting are strong and will widen Friend Seeker's experience.

  "Finally, I will speak long with Friend Seeker about the ways of war. I will speak to him of ambush, of night scouting, and of surprise attack. He must learn to strike when his enemy is weak, to withdraw when he is strong, and to kill without hesitation.

  "When the frost is gone, the lodge of Three Feathers will again stand at this place. Then will Friend Seeker be ready for his journey among the Piscataway." Three Feathers drew on his pipe, listening without expression to the rumbles of approval.

  "As a warrior of the noble Delaware, I say now to the father and to the uncles of Friend Seeker that his ways have pleased me. I say that he has done his best. I say that he has passed the hopes that I had stored for him. If Friend Seeker survives the Piscataway, he can become a warrior of many feathers."

  Three Feathers paused to allow agreement. "I say these things that the father and uncles will know and respect the skills of Friend Seeker." His lips pursed in a slight smile. "I also say these things to give spi
rit and vigor to the listener who lurks beyond these walls."

  Men chuckled and whooped. Embarrassed that all should know his eagerness to hear, Friend Seeker slipped away, but his heart thumped and bumps fled across his body. He felt ready to fight a dozen warriors and in youthful exuberance sprinted to the river, flung himself into the frigid water, and swam powerfully upstream.

  Fishers on the banks suspected he had lost his mind, for no one swam in defiance of the Winter God.

  — — —

  For Friend Seeker, the winter began with the movement of Three Feathers' lodge to the meadow below the hot springs and that in itself was memorable.

  Squaws were notorious for continually increasing their possessions until they became more than the lodge could readily transport. The woman of Three Feathers was at least as competent in collecting skills as any other, and although Three Feathers lived austerely, a summer without relocation encouraged the accumulation of good things.

  Blue Duck was far younger than Three Feathers and coddled the aged warrior as she might an honored grandfather. To improve his bed, she chewed deer hides to ultimate softness, kneading the hairless leather until it hung softer than rabbit skin. She also plucked the softest feathers from waterfowl, stuffing them within sewed together deer hides to make soft mats for him to lie upon.

  Blue Duck created handy and imaginative pottery and wove baskets of every size and shape. Within her containers she stored food in such quantities that one could believe she had somehow known of the addition of Friend Seeker to their winter lodge. All of Blue Duck's things had to be carried to the warm springs. Friend Seeker was allowed to assist.

  If they had been returning to winter at Aughwick or Kittanning, Three Feathers would have peremptorily ordered the excess disposed of until Blue Duck and an available friend or two could have packed all of their possessions in one trip. As his lodge would stand alone through the starving time, Three Feathers saw the wisdom of Blue Duck's gathering. As there was time and available hands, he encouraged the transfer of all goods to Sherman's Creek and the erection of a secure winter lodge. The tasks were many but Three Feathers did not mind. He simply ignored them.

  The hot springs trickled from a bluff set well back from the creek bank. Generations had camped on the flattening ground between bluff and stream, and fine, raised lodge sites were available. Blue Duck chose one sheltered, close under the bluff where bitter winds would pass above and snow would not drift.

  Before the winter lodge was raised. Blue Duck's stored vegetables, berries, and pemmicans were buried in leaf and twig lined hollows covered by many stones. Stored safely in the earth they would not freeze and marauding animals would be slowed by the stones until they could be driven away.

  Only after all other work was finished did Three Feathers allow his lodge to be taken down. Until it was properly raised on the new site he would reside with friends.

  Most lodges owned a number of sets of poles for supporting the sewn hides that comprised their lodge. Rather than dragging poles from camp to camp, extra sets were left behind for use during the next visit. Many poles had survived generations of use until their origins had been forgotten. In some camps the poles were left standing, but more commonly they were stored in convenient trees where earth moisture would not rot their bases.

  Poles from the Buffalo Creek village were needed for the Sherman's Creek site and Friend Seeker and the women moved them there. A pair of poles were laid at a convenient width and a bundle of hides was placed atop. Friend Seeker or a squaw grasped pole ends and dragged the load away.

  The work was horribly boring and Friend Seeker looked forward to the long run back to the Big Buffalo and Three Feathers' onerous but at least varying tasks. He could not see how lodge moving and squaw's work taught warrior ways. If it was a means of teaching humility, the Seeker felt adequately humbled and wished it would be over with.

  The lodge was raised and meadow grass was packed within to close off drafts. A low wall of sods was built around the lodge's exterior to divert the flow of cold surface air that chilled all it touched. The wall was built higher toward the north to break sharp winds that winter would hurl at them.

  Great quantities of dried moss in large sheets was peeled from limestone ledges and fallen trees. The moss was layered on the earthen lodge floor before soft robes were laid. Only the stone lined fire pit was unprotected by moss or hides.

  The moss was also thickly layered over the outside of the lodge and held in place by untreated hides tied tightly together. Although yet unused, the finished structure appeared to have been in place for many seasons. It nestled within the land much as a duck settles within its nest until all appeared as one. The smoke hole drew well, without billowing clouds back within, and a clever arrangement of sticks allowed a second entrance flap to be lowered over the usual hide door in bitter weather.

  Before Three Feathers arrived, Blue Duck prevailed on her friends to assist in wood gathering. Even Friend Seeker pitched in. When the ice time came wood getting would be miserable and he could expect Three Feathers to insist that his student help his squaw in such gathering. Every stick now stored would ease his way later.

  Three Feathers regally inspected his domicile, called it fit for his habitation, and complained that with the hot springs available, a proper sweat lodge should already have been prepared. Behind his back, Blue Duck threatened her warrior with a raised pot, but quickly set to work building a miniature lodge above the hottest pool for Three Feathers' pleasure.

  Regular soaking in the warm mineral water provided balm for Three Feathers' soul as well as relief for his body. As aches left his joints and he became able to move about with only mild crackling, his temperament modified and both Friend Seeker and Blue Duck were less subject to the barbed side of his tongue.

  Except for E'shan, the young pointmaker on the Little Buffalo, they were alone. The land lay empty between the mountains. The three of Blue Duck's lodge settled into comfortable routines. In the brisk mornings, Friend Seeker gave help to Blue Duck as needed or he hunted for game. Three Feathers rarely left his sleeping robes until the weak winter sun reached the steep and narrow valley.

  When he was ready, Three Feathers might instruct in weapon use or simply put Friend Seeker through the usual wearying paces. Here too there were tall poplars to shinny, logs to carry, and mountains to charge. The tempered body so painfully developed and tuned would not grow soft and flaccid this winter!

  The evenings were best. Then the real teaching took place. Bellies filled with thoroughly chewed onion-spiced venison and small balls of berry rich pemmican relaxed them for long talking and listening. Blue Duck kept the fire high, toasting their fronts, with shadows lifting and fading. Lodge warmth enfolded, granting security and ease to even the most bloodthirsty topics.

  "The ambush, Friend Seeker, is the finest of combats. It is instinctive even to small children who lurk behind their mothers to leap out at the unsuspecting. To the inexperienced, it seems the simplest of all tactics, yet the warrior knows its difficulty as well as its power.

  "Consider: one who waits in ambush is also one who can be ambushed, for he sits looking in one direction. And who but a fool would not be expecting ambush along a war trail? Your capture was the simplest of ambushes. Hawk Foot's silent waiting for your movement in the cane was another. There are countless more examples, but all are the same in that surprise is their strength. All are the same in that they are watched for and that is their weakness.

  "To trap an enemy unaware as he moves is powerful and an ambush driven home with arrow, club, and war cry can be crushing." Three Feathers" gaze wandered as he remembered. "This I have seen from both sides." Then his eyes sharpened and glittered in the fire flames.

  "The true power of the ambush lies not in the trap itself, but in where the ambush moves the enemy. Correctly planned, a second blow can fall so heavily on a disorganized enemy that the first seems barely the touch of a dove's wing."

  Three Feathers' lips pur
sed in memory and his cheeks grew taut. He leaned close to Friend Seeker and drew in the dirt left exposed to the fire circle.

  "Once, in the early rising of the Iroquois, a strong party of Cayugas pursued a band of Delaware into these endless hills. Many times our warriors could have stood and fought but their wise leader searched for complete victory.

  Moving only fast enough to encourage the Cayugas to follow, he sent scouts ahead to select and plan the perfect ambush." Excitement glittered in the eyes of Three Feathers and his fingers quickly drew the scene in the dirt by the fire pit.

  "Of course, this battle was won even before my warrior days. I tell it now as it was spoken by one who was there. These are the words of Starter, grandfather of the young hunter Kneeling Buffalo, whom you know.

  "In these valleys the Cayugas were strangers, but they were flushed with pride and believed they would trap the Delaware against the mountains. Down the Juniata the Delaware led, up the Buffalo Creek they trotted and across the ridges to the trail that runs tight against this very creek. There the scouts waited to hurry each Delaware into place and await the Cayuga who came close behind.

  "Unwarned, the Cayuga scouts entered the trap and when all were within, the Delaware rose filling the air with arrows and war cries, the few sounding like many.

  "From behind sounded other whoops as Delaware closed off a Cayuga retreat. From the hillside arrows flew into the Cayuga trapped against the stream.

  "But the Delaware had erred and the Cayuga leader saw a shallow bar leading to safety across the creek. He summoned his men from their hiding behind trees and rocks and they fled en masse toward safety across the stream.

  "Only when they were beyond return did the Delaware hidden on the far bank rise like a wall and rain arrows among the exposed Cayuga. Quickly the first ambushers reached the stream and the Cayuga were caught between two fires without protection. There they died, their bodies drifting downstream where two Delaware stood in the creek making certain that each was truly dead."