Part 4 (2/2)
”We're sure to meet below!”
Chorus over, the captain bold set his men to swabbing decks, etc., and ordered the watch up aloft on the tower to plant the flag with the skull and crossbones and keep the lookout. Boldly he paced up and down on top of the tower, sweeping the seas with his spy-gla.s.s. Suddenly he paused and uttered a shout. The pirates crowded to the edge of the dock. Looking in the direction he pointed they beheld two sailors approaching in a small open boat. Seeing the pirates, the sailors were overcome with terror and tried to avoid pa.s.sing the dock, but the ruthless cut-throats flung out a rope and la.s.soed them. Pulling them up on the dock, they blindfolded them and tied their hands behind them. Then, in spite of pitiful shrieks for mercy, the pirate captain ordered the poor sailors up the ladder to the top of the tower and made them walk the plank off the high springboard, still blindfolded. It was so thrilling the audience squealed with excitement.
As Sahwah jumped she flung out her arms in a despairing gesture, and wobbled beautifully all the way down through the air. It was Migwan, though, who created the most merriment. The two sailors were dressed very correctly in white duck trousers, middies and sailor caps. The trousers were part of the outfit that Sahwah had purchased in the village the day before, and the pair that fell to Migwan were much too big for her. When it came her turn to walk the plank she remembered Sahwah's parting injunction to ”hang on to 'em, whatever you do,” and in a sudden panic lest she should fall out of them in her flight through the air, she grabbed them firmly by both sides of the belt, and jumped in that position. The watchers on the beach were convulsed and struggled for some minutes to regain their composure.
The last tableau brought tears to Nyoda's eyes--tears of joy and pride. Around the cliff came a gay craft, moving slowly and majestically through the water, but there was no sign of a paddle. As it drew nearer the watchers saw that it was a canoe, its sides covered with red, white and blue bunting. Before it swam Sahwah and Medmangi. Inside, on a flag-covered seat, sat Hinpoha, dressed as Columbia, with a crown on her head, her glorious hair rippling down to her waist and s.h.i.+ning like copper in the sunlight. In one hand she carried a torch, in the other she held two white streamers. These streamers were fastened to Sahwah's and Medmangi's waists, who drew the canoe as they swam.
The spectators drew a long breath and exclaimed with delight.
Professor Wheeler sprang to his feet, camera in hand, and snapped the ”s.h.i.+p of State” at least a dozen times. ”Glory! What a head of hair!” he muttered to himself.
The cortege approached the dock and those on sh.o.r.e thrilled with a fearful realism as the swimmers reared up their heads and blew jets of water out through their mouths and noses just like sea horses. As the boat pa.s.sed the dock the watchers with one accord stood and sang ”America,” and kept on singing until it had vanished from sight around the next cliff.
”Great!” cried Professor Bentley, applauding until he was red in the face, ”great!”
When the three girls came out on the beach after having changed their fancy costumes they were met with another round of applause. ”That little pageant of yours,” said Professor Bentley, ”was about the neatest thing I have ever seen. Was it an original idea?”
The girls proudly replied that it was. ”And not only original,”
added Nyoda, ”but executed entirely without my help. The whole program was a surprise to me.”
”You don't say so,” said Professor Bentley. ”Well, all I can say is you are a pretty clever lot of girls!”
Chapa had been busy for the last few minutes gathering driftwood and getting a fire started. The girls had decided to cook dinner down on the beach in order to show the visitors their skill in cooking in the most primitive way. A big kettle of clams was hung over a fire all its own, while another fire was kindled between two long logs, and the pots and pans set along on it in a row.
Migwan tended the clams, Sahwah put on a kettle of potatoes and then began making toast, Nakwisi made cocoa, Medmangi fried bacon, and Hinpoha flew about concocting a delicious compound which was her own invention and with which no one dared to meddle. The two men watched with interest every move of the girls as they went about preparing dinner.
”Look at that!” said Professor Bentley to his friend. ”That”
happened to be Hinpoha, who was momentarily left alone with the fire. The cocoa kettle started to sag as the wood burned away and at the same time the mixture in the other kettle began to boil over. Bracing the cocoa kettle with one foot, she s.n.a.t.c.hed the other kettle from the fire, and stood there on one foot holding the steaming pot. Professor Wheeler sprang to her a.s.sistance and propped up the cocoa kettle.
Dinner was the merriest meal imaginable, and ”food just faded away,” as Sahwah declared. Hinpoha won much praise for her concoction, which she called ”Slumgullion.” It was a sort of glorified tomato soup, made with a thick white sauce, containing chopped-up pimentoes and hard-boiled eggs, the mixture being served over toast. The clams of course were the main dainty, and when dipped in b.u.t.ter slid down with amazing rapidity. After dinner the girls threw themselves down in the sand in various att.i.tudes of relaxation, while Professor Wheeler, his eyes straying again and again toward Hinpoha, told stories of camping in the Canadian Rockies.
When he had finished the girls rose and stretched themselves, and then began to clamor for ”more celebration.” Nyoda suggested a fire-building contest. Each girl was to have three minutes in which to collect material and get a fire started. No paper was allowed and only three matches. What a scramble there was to find small dry twigs! There was a smart breeze blowing, and most of the matches went out as soon as lighted, putting their owners out of the contest. Sahwah was wise and piled her twigs where a huge stump sheltered them from the wind; Hinpoha sat between hers and the wind. Even then it was difficult to get the twigs to burn. It seemed as if they were in league against the contestants and firmly refused to light.
”Two and a half minutes,” called Nyoda warningly, her watch in her hand.
”Mine's burning,” shouted Hinpoha, jumping up as the flames began to curl up from the twigs. Just then a gust of wind came up, and pouf! out went the fire.
”Time's up!” called Nyoda, and Sahwah rose from her knees, disclosing a neat little blaze. She had wisely sheltered her fire until the last second, giving it a chance to kindle well.
Now it was the custom of the Winnebagos to have a folk story told by one of their number right after supper, but as the visitors would have to leave early Nyoda asked if the girls wouldn't like to tell the folk story before supper. They agreed, as usual, to anything that would give pleasure to a guest. It was Migwan's turn to tell the story, so seating herself on a rock in the midst of the group, she related the story of Aliquipiso, the heroic Oneida maiden.
”Once upon a time the savage Mingoes made war upon the Oneidas, so the Oneidas were obliged to flee from their pleasant village and seek refuge in the depths of the forest. So well did they hide their traces that the Mingoes were not able to find their hiding place and they remained safe. Their food supply, however, began to be exhausted, for they were hemmed in by the Mingoes and could not break through the lines. They were facing destruction in two ways; either by slow starvation should they remain in hiding, or a cruel death at the hands of the Mingoes should they venture out. The chiefs and warriors of the Oneidas held a council, but none had a plan to offer which would effect their salvation. Then the maiden Aliquipiso stepped forward. With becoming modesty she addressed the chiefs and warriors, saying that the Great Manitou had sent her a dream in which he showed her how great boulders could be dashed on the heads of the Mingoes if they could be lured to a spot directly beneath the bluff on which the Oneidas were hiding. She went on to say that the Great Manitou had inspired her with the desire to be the means of luring the Mingoes to their destruction, and she was ready to start out on her mission.
”The Oneida braves hailed her as the saviour of her people and the Beloved of the Great Spirit, and hung strings of wampum around her neck. Bidding her people farewell, she left the hiding place and was found by the Mingoes wandering in the forest, apparently a lost maiden of the Oneida tribe. They took her to their camp and put her to torture trying to make her tell where her people were hidden. At last she broke down and promised that when night fell she would lead the Mingoes to the hiding place of the Oneidas.
”Under cover of the darkness she led them to the gully at the foot of the ravine. On each side of her was a Mingo warrior, ready to strike her dead at the first cry for help. When she reached the spot where she knew the Oneidas were waiting to hurl immense boulders down over the cliff she uttered a piercing scream--the signal agreed upon. The warrior next to her had just time to strike her dead with his club when the boulders came down, crus.h.i.+ng him and all the Mingoes like worms beneath a giant's heel. Thus the Oneidas owed their deliverance to the bravery of a maiden.”
”It must be fine to be a heroine,” sighed Sahwah, when the applause was finished, ”to save a person's life or something. I wish I had lived in the early days of the country. Nothing ever happens now.”
Unsuspecting Sahwah! Little did she dream what was hidden under the wings of the Thunder Moon!
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