Read Into the Wilderness Online
Authors: Sara Donati
Tags: #Life Sciences, #New York (State), #Frontier and Pioneer Life, #Indians of North America, #Science, #General, #Romance, #Historical, #Historical Fiction, #Women Pioneers, #New York (State) - History - 1775-1865, #Pioneers, #Fiction, #Cultural Heritage, #Mohawk Indians
Gradually
Elizabeth learned to carry on with the lessons while Curiosity flitted in and
out, or sat close by, openly listening.
When
Elizabeth set up a corner in the kitchen and began tutoring Benjamin and
George, slaves of the Glove family, Curiosity never left at all and Galileo
would just as often come to join them. James Glove let the boys come for
lessons in arithmetic and writing once or twice a week when they weren't needed
elsewhere. This had caused some concern in the village, but thus far the Gloves
hadn't given in to pressure: they owned the only mill, and they wanted the boys
to be more than one kind of help to them. Elizabeth had soon found out that
Benjamin had a good head for figures, but less talent for the written language,
while George was just the opposite. In a roundabout way, Curiosity let
Elizabeth know it would not be to anyone's advantage if she shared this
information with Mr. Glove.
Curiosity
greeted the young men like royalty when they came into her kitchen and praised
them to their faces when they got up to head for home, pressing gingerbread or
pie into their hands and smiling a smile that Elizabeth seldom saw otherwise.
Soon Elizabeth realized that Curiosity always kept Polly weaving or spinning by
the hearth during these lessons. Benjamin and Polly were of a similar age, and
Benjamin was a likely young man. Elizabeth wondered how Curiosity would manage
to see the courtship through, given the fact that Benjamin was a slave, but she
was sure that there was some well—thought—through plan. That much she had learned
about Curiosity and Galileo: they did nothing by chance.
Clearly,
Elizabeth had won Curiosity's approval and she felt the benefits of this state
every day. It went beyond attention to her personal and material needs:
Curiosity began to favor Elizabeth with information. She would bring tea to her
room unexpectedly, and sit with her while she drank it, speaking of nothing in
particular and still managing to pass on gossip which Elizabeth found often to
be useful. Beyond that, Curiosity was plain amusing, and Elizabeth had come to
depend on her in the weeks when worry about Nathaniel and their plans was
sometimes more than she thought she could bear alone.
Thus,
on the morning after Liam Kirby had been tried and sentenced in the parlor,
Elizabeth was not at first surprised to wake to Curiosity's knock at her door.
Plagued by uneasy dreams, she had not slept well and she was glad to let
herself be coddled a bit.
"Dr.
Todd ain't come back yet," Curiosity said directly, handing Elizabeth a
cup.
"He
must have had more business to deal with than he expected," Elizabeth
murmured. Of all people, she was least comfortable discussing Richard with
Curiosity.
"Business,
huh." Curiosity shook her head, the tower of her head cloth wobbling a bit
with the strength of the motion. "Business waiting for him here,
too."
Elizabeth
raised a brow, waited.
"Didn't
you hear Nathaniel yesterday?"
Bent
over her teacup, Elizabeth searched quickly for an answer which would satisfy,
but Curiosity seemed not to need one.
"Otter
got himself shot and the doctor gone. I was thinking I might just go up there
myself, see if they need any help with looking after that wound."
"Oh,
yes," Elizabeth agreed, suddenly quite awake. "That's an excellent
idea. You could take up some of that poultice you made for Nathaniel's
shoulder." She stopped suddenly. Curiosity was looking at her in a way
which said more than words could.
"I
was thinking I might stop and look at that schoolhouse of yours first. And that
maybe you might come along, keep me company." She paused. "It's a
long way for an old woman like me up Hidden Wolf."
Many
logical replies to this unusual request for Elizabeth's company on an outing
went through her head. All of them were familiar to Curiosity. There was
something going on, and Elizabeth wasn't sure what it was.
"Father
wouldn't like it."
Her
lips pursed, Curiosity considered Elizabeth.
"You
real worried about keeping your daddy happy these days."
Elizabeth
thought hard and came to the conclusion that silence was the only viable strategy.
But Curiosity had decided to open this subject, and she wasn't so easily
dissuaded.
"You
think I ain't seen you, bitin' your lip when the judge talk. Trying to look
like you agree when you don't. Settin' your face in a smile when Richard Todd
come by making sweet. You got them fooled, all right. But let me tell you, that
smile about as believable as teats on a bull. Now you telling me you don't want
to go up to Lake in the Clouds when I can see you ready to jump out the window
to get there."
Curiosity
tapped her foot, once, twice, while Elizabeth squirmed.
"What
if I told you a little bird come by this morning and asked me to come up to the
lake, and that little bird asked me to bring you along."
Elizabeth
felt herself flush. "What did he say exactly?"
""What
he
?" Curiosity said. "I
never said nothing about no
he
."
Unexpectedly, she grinned. "There something you wantin' to tell me?"
It
was a temptation. Elizabeth thought that she could trust Curiosity; she was
sure of it. But to admit that she was carefully, knowingly, willfully deceiving
her father was more than she could do.
"Not
yet," Elizabeth said apologetically. "Not quite yet."
Curiosity
shook her head slowly, a finger against her mouth. "You know what you're
doin', child?"
Suddenly
Elizabeth wasn't sure at all. She felt herself very close to tears.
"Yes," she said finally.
"Well,"
said Curiosity, without a smile now. "I believe that you do."
There
was a tap at her door, and the judge's voice through it, solicitous: "Are
you coming to services this morning, daughter? The Witherspoons have invited us
to dine with them afterward."
Elizabeth
met Curiosity's eye and her raised brow. "You gonna disappoint that
bird?"
There
was another tap. "Daughter?"
"Please
make my excuses, Father," Elizabeth called to the judge. "I was
thinking of a walk."
* * *
They
found the schoolhouse just as she had imagined it. It was full of sunlight and
smelled of freshly cut timber and strong soap. In the main room there were six
six—paned window sashes, two on each wall. From the far side there was a
stretch of clear spring sky and the glint of yellow—green on the willows that
bordered the lake; from the door there were the deep shadows of the forest.
Against the drab green of the hemlock, the delicate branches of a stand of red
osier glowed bright in the sun.
"Falling—Day
has been here with her girls," observed Curiosity approvingly. "Not a
muddy footprint to be seen." Her footsteps sounded through the room.
"My, look at this. A study? And a view of the lake from the window. This
is prettier than many a cabin in Paradise, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth
was silent, because she was afraid that if she spoke she would be overcome by
emotion. She walked through the classroom again, the floorboards solid
underfoot, to stand in the study. The small window above the desk gave her a
view of the little marsh that stood between the clearing and the lake, where
the heads of trumpet weed and cinnamon fern were beginning to unfurl
themselves.
She
turned around to smile at Curiosity. "We'll need curtains."
"My,
yes," she agreed. "And a hook rug or two, I'd say."
"I
want to go to Lake in the Clouds now," Elizabeth said and she found
herself thankful once again, this time for Curiosity's silent acceptance.
* * *
He
was gone off into the bush to hunt. Of course. He had told her that in her
father's parlor crowded with people, but somehow she hadn't heard it, or hadn't
believed him. Elizabeth tried to pay attention to what it was Hawkeye was
telling her, but somehow all she could hear was a three—beat refrain that
echoed in her head without pause:
how
could he, how could he, how could he
.
"I
expect him back in a day or two," Hawkeye repeated and then Elizabeth
produced the nod he had been waiting for. She was glad that the women were
otherwise occupied, gathered around the cot where Otter lay, examining his
wound. Hannah was there, too, mesmerized by the contents of Curiosity's basket
and asking questions about her poultice. Many-Doves reached in to adjust the
dressing and Otter batted at her, scowling. Falling—Day and Curiosity were deep
in conversation.
"How
did it happen?" Elizabeth asked Hawkeye, hoping for a long story, one
which would allow her her own thoughts while he related it. But Hawkeye was
watching her closely, and she saw understanding and compassion on his face.
That was very hard to bear, and she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself
from asking that question which was running through her head.
"How
do you think?" Hawkeye asked. "Somebody drew a bead on him when he
warn't paying enough attention."
Elizabeth
glanced at him from the side. "Has it been bad?"
He
shrugged. "It's getting worse." And then, after a pause:
"Nathaniel ain't took off for good, you know."
"I
realize that." Elizabeth was unable to meet his eye. "I just wanted
to thank him. For the schoolhouse."
"Is
that so?" He took her by the arm and led her outside the cabin to the
porch. The rush of the waterfall was louder than she remembered. Elizabeth let
herself be shown to a rocking chair. She spread her skirts and folded her hands
on her lap, and waited for this visit to be over so she could go home and worry
in the peace and privacy of her own room.
"Nathaniel
thought it would be best if he wasn't around for the next few days,"
Hawkeye said, surprising her.
"I
see." Her tone was sharper than she intended; she was surprised to see
Hawkeye smile in response.
"He
made a point of taking leave from your folks yesterday, because then for
example—then maybe they won't think of Nathaniel first."
Startled,
Elizabeth looked up. "He told you?"
Hawkeye
nodded.
She
was relieved and embarrassed and glad and frightened all at once. "And do
you—" She stopped, unable to say the word.
"It
ain't for me to approve or disapprove," Hawkeye said softly. "I will
say that I'm worried. I told him plain, I don't believe you realize how
dangerous it is, what you're up to."
"I'm
not afraid," she said clearly.
He
grunted. "You should be."
"I
trust Nathaniel to look after me."
His
look was keen. "That ain't the point," he said. "And you know
it."
They
were silent together for a while. Elizabeth looked at Hawkeye, at the set of
his jaw and the way his eyes narrowed when he looked away, over the glen. There
was a calmness about him, but she thought she saw something else, just below
the surface. A waiting. There had been an old colonel at home who came to call
on aunt Merriweather, a veteran of the French and Indian wars, who had some of
the same wariness. Elizabeth wondered if all old soldiers had this feeling of
cautiousness about them.
"Nathaniel
is very much like you." She was surprised to hear herself say this, but
found that it was the right thing. His reservation slipped a bit, and he
grinned.
"Aye,"
he said. "That he is."
"There's
the story of how you stole into a fort under siege to rescue your wife and her
sister."
"Well,"
Hawkeye drawled. "That ain't it exactly, but I suppose it'll do for a
story."
"It
was a dangerous thing to do," she pointed out.
Hawkeye
shrugged. "Breathin' was dangerous back in them days."
"The
point is," Elizabeth continued resolutely, "that you would do the
same in his place."
He
laughed out loud at that. "I would," he agreed reluctantly.
Elizabeth
said, "My father is talking of starting for Johnstown on Wednesday. Can
you get word to Nathaniel?"
Hawkeye
walked to the far end of the porch, and looked off into the gorge and the
falling water. Without turning back to Elizabeth, he said, "Such a pretty
spring day. Maybe you should take a little wander."
The
hair on her nape had begun to rise. She wasn't sure why; she knew exactly why.
"Hannah!"
called Hawkeye, and then when the child appeared at the door, he spoke a few
words to her in Kahnyen'keháka. Elizabeth, confused and still on edge, didn't
follow anything of what he said. But she saw that Hannah was looking at her
with a shy smile.
"Come,"
the child said. "I'll show you where the wild iris grow. They're up early
this year."
Light—headed,
Elizabeth rose. "I'd like that."
"I'll
see Curiosity back home myself," said Hawkeye. "In case you're
delayed."
* * *
To
keep herself focused on thoughts other than their mysterious destination, and
because she thought it prudent, Elizabeth tried to remark their path. Following
Hannah, who was unusually quiet, they crossed from the glen over the narrowed
gorge into the forest, where they passed through a carpet of anemone under a
plantation of sugar maple and white birch not yet in leaf. Elizabeth saw that
pieces of bark had been cut in neat rectangles from most of the birch trunks,
and the sugar maple bore the signs of recent tapping.