Salt (6 page)
Authors: Helen Frost
saying “if the war starts.” Now they're saying “when.”) Isaac gets an idea.
James,
he says,
you could come with us, even if your ma won't go.
Ma stares
at him and doesn't say no right awayâis she thinking of sending me,
without her or Pa? She'd keep Molly here, and I'd go to Piqua by myself?
Isaac acts like she said yes.
It'll be more fun with you along. We get to camp
out by a lakeâthey say there's some big walleyes in it.
Like this is a fishing trip
where nothing could go wrong. I step back, away from Isaac. Mrs. Briggs
keeps arguing,
We'll have five soldiers to protect us.
Ma firmly answers,
No.
Armed soldiers might make the trip more dangerous
. Mrs. Briggs says,
We're
trying to find two Indian guides to go with us.
Would anyone do that for them?
Father
and Mink and Grandma
are still trying to find a way to stop this war,
or to keep it away from our home.
But everyone knows it's
coming. Father
has to make
a hard decision. He tells us,
All the women and children are leaving the fort,
going to Piqua. They've asked us for guides to protect them.
A few people laugh at this. Father holds up his hand.
Some of these
people are our friends and relatives. They will be safer if we offer our help.
We know, better than they doâthey're unlikely to survive without us.
All these may be good reasons to help them, but none
are good enough.
It sounds like he's decided
not to go, and not to ask anyone else
to make this dangerous trip.
There is one more thing
to think about,
he says.
Maybe if we help
them, the Americans will see that we are not
their enemies. If we do this, will they help us keep peace here?
Piyeeto, our Shawnee friend, speaks up:
I will go.
And Father says,
So will I.
Last week, this would have been ordinary food. Now it looks like a feast:
corn bread, cheese, hard-boiled eggsâa basket of food Ma's sending with
the people going to Piqua. When my stomach growls, she says,
They'll need it
more than we do.
Isaac's trying to act like he's glad to be going, but he keeps
chewing on his lipâhe can't stop it from quivering. He gets on the horse,
trying hard to smile, and Mr. Briggs lifts Becca up in front of him.
Take care
of your ma and sister, Son,
he says. How does he expect Isaac to do that?
Everyone knows how many dangerous things could happen on this trip.
Ma taps Pa on his arm and nods toward the front of the line. Old Raccoon?
He's going along? And someone else at the back.
Who's that?
I ask.
Pa answers,
A Shawnee named Piyeeto who knows the trails and language
where they're going.
As Old Raccoon starts down the trail, Pa rests his hand
on my shoulder, and we watch until the last horse disappears around the bend
into the forest. Then Pa goes to the fort, and I walk home with Ma and Molly.
Sun lit its path
and warmed it.
Earth gave it food.
Rain quenched its thirst.
Salt kept it strong.
Now its life will be ours:
food, strength, warmth.
We give thanks
for earth, rain, sun.
For salt. For deer.
We light
a fire. We will keep it burning
until Father and Piyeeto return home.
Kwaahkwa stands in the circle
of the fire's light, holding
a bowl of soup,
and he shines
like a grown man.
He has joined the other men,
from here and other places, as they prepare
to run back and forth past the fort all day and night,
keeping all the soldiers inside until the British army arrives.
When the soldiers in the fort look out and see all our men
running, and hear them singing all night and all day,
we hope they will think there are more warriors
than there really are, and they will be afraid
to leave the fort. This is what we
have heard them call
a “siege.”
I'm glad to know
the children and their mothers
are not thereâJames and Mrs. Gray
and baby Molly should be
at Piqua now.
I follow a raindrop down the window with my finger. When it gets to the bottom,
I find another one to follow. Nothing to do. Even if there wasâno one to do it with.
I'm hungry! There's a squirrel up in that tree, looking right at me. I could get it
with my slingshotâeasy. Or I could set a snare and catch a rabbit. Maybe two.
This time tomorrow we could be eating fried rabbit instead of soggy oatmeal.
Pa told us what's about to happenâmaybe tomorrow, next day at the latestâ
the fort will be surrounded by a lot of Indians we don't know, all of them hoping
the Americans won't get here in time, and we'll surrender when the British come.
But the way I see itâthat hasn't happened yet. This might be my last chance to slip
out for a few minutes. Pa's at the fort, like he is every afternoon. Pretty soon,
Molly will take a nap. Usually Ma falls asleep when Molly does, long enough
for me to run a little ways along the trail, set my snares, and still get back
before she wakes up. The rain is slowing down, almost stopped. I slip three snares
into my pocket. Molly's yawning. So is Ma. They both close their eyes. Here I go.
What's this?
It looks like James's snare.
He must have set it before he went to Piqua,
so he doesn't know he caught a rabbit.
Father and Piyeeto will be back
in a few days, but the women
and children will stay
a while longer. What should I do?
This rabbit was just caughtâit's still warm.
I'd better take it out before a hungry paapankamwa
comes along, flashing his bushy red tail, showing off those
big sharp teeth. I'd give this rabbit to James's father if I could,
but since the trading post is closed, I'll have to take it home.
Here's another snareâlooks like I got here too lateâonly
a tuft of brown fur, left over from paapankamwa's
rabbit feast. There might be another one
probably not far along the trail.
I know where to look.
Here it is,
empty, like the last one.
Paapankamwa must be hungry.
I'll leave the empty snares where I found them
for James to find when he
comes back.
My mouth is watering for rabbit meat. My stomach's growling again.
Go check
your snares,
it says.
Hurry, before a fox finds them.
Drowning out Ma and Pa's
warnings. They don't know I went out yesterdayâlucky for me. Pa is
over at the fort again. Molly's fast asleep, and Ma's eyes are closing. If I go
soon and come straight home, they won't even know I've left till I get back,
and I won't tell them unless I have a rabbit for our supper. Like yesterdayâ
open the door, slip out, close it. (Glad there's no ladies around to spy on me.)
I run to the loose board, push through, and take the path around the pond.
A beaver slaps his tail and dives. I don't wait to see where he comes up.
I watch the trail ahead, look all aroundâdon't see anyone. Here's my first
snare. Dang! Empty except for a piece of rabbit fluff. Something got to it
before I didâprobably a fox. Shoot! Second one's empty, too. That fox family
is having a feast. I should put out fox traps so they get caught before they steal
my rabbits. One more snare to check. Gotta get home before Ma wakes up.
I'm walking
along, thinking about
something Wedaase said last night:
We would all be better off if we
kept explorers, soldiers,
traders, settlers, and
missionaries
far away from here. If we can't
push them back behind the mountains, we can
at least try to keep them on the other side of the Ohio River.
What would our life be like without any of those people? Do we
need the trading post
?
Wedaase says,
Our grandparents got along fine
without trade goods, not so long ago, and we could do it again now.
Maybe we have all the cooking pots we need. How about
rifles? Needles. Cloth. Could we make our clothes
like old-time people used to? We don't need
their food. I'd be happy if I never
saw Isaac again. I might
miss James.
(He'd miss me more.)
I wonder how he's doing at Piqua. Father
should be back soon. What? Who's that on the trail?
It looks like James ⦠walking
right toward me!
Hey! There's Anikwa, walking off with my rabbit! I thought
it was a fox that got them. But now I see what really happenedâ
Anikwa stole them! So it's true, what Pa saidâsometimes it's hard
to say who our friends are
.
Looks like Anikwa turned into my enemy!
Well, if that's what happened, I know how to get my rabbit back.
I raise my arm to punch Anikwa. He drops the rabbit, grabs my arm,
stares at me like I'm a stranger. We've never fought beforeâI've always
thought I'd beat him if we did, but now I'm not so sure. He shoves me
and I fall in the mud. (Dang. Ma will find out everything.) Anikwa says
something I don't understand. “Papa come on?” Why can't he talk English?
He turns toward the rabbit, but I grab his foot so he falls in the mud, and he
can't reach it. I'm so hungry, I can taste that rabbit! I hold Anikwa down
with one arm and grab the rabbit with the other. Then I get up and run.
When I stop and look back, Anikwa is standing on the trail. Watching me.
He thinks
I stole that waapanswa
from his snare! I tried to tell him,
It was
paapankamwa, not me!
But I couldn't
think of his word while he was
trying to punch me!
(Is it “fox”?)
Why can't he speak
our language? He's lived here
all his life, he should have learned by now.
Maybe it's true, what Wedaase said:
That kind of cousin
can turn his back on you.
Now I wish James
had
gone to Piqua.
He didn't hurt me any. I could have pushed him harder if I
wanted to. That crow flew up into a tree and now he's
laughing at me. I say,
You might taste just as good
as waapanswa.
He stops laughing, flies ahead
of me all the way home. Seems like
he wants to keep laughing,
but instead he's
saying,
James, ha ha, James.
Calling me names and teasing me for
getting pushed in the mud by a mih
Å
i-maalhseensa.
Wedaase is rightâwe don't need
any of them.
I stop at the pond and wash upâbetter to go home wet than muddy.
Anikwa never stole from me before. I would've given him a rabbit if
I got more than one. Why did he go and steal one before I had a chance?
Look at that beaver carrying branches into its house for winter food.
Most years, about this time, we're storing food for winter, too. Butchering pigs,
making bacon, picking up nuts, drying apples. This year, we just hope
we kept enough provisions for ourselves, to last until the siege is over.
What if we run out, and can't get any more? Will Ma change her mind
and move into the fort? If we're starving, she'll have to. Won't she?
Is there enough food in the fort for everyone? What's thatâI hear someone
laughingâthe kind of laugh where you try not to make a sound but you can't
help it. There's someone behind that bush, three Indians I've never seen beforeâ
not from Kekiongaâcrouching down, trying to hide. I walk slowly past,
pretending I don't know they're there. Then I start walking faster. Then I run.
Kwaahkwa
got another deer today,
and we're cooking a big pot of soup
because a lot of people will eat
with us tonight. More and
more people arrive
every day.
Potawatomi, Delaware,
Ottawa, Ojibwe, Kickapoo, Peoria,
Shawnee, and Miami. All the warriors agree,
we have to be ready to fight on the side of the British
when they get here. But Grandma and the other elders are still
trying to keep the war away from Kekionga. They've seen