Timecachers (21 page)

Benjamin enjoyed listening to Tom and Adam talk about the place they were from. He did not comprehend all the details of their discussion, and understood even less of Sal’s comments. It was clear they were already beginning to long for their homeland. He knew John Carter had been right when he asked Benjamin to act as host to them for a while. John felt that a day or two on the farm would give them time to adjust to their situation before they were overwhelmed by the frenzy of activity sure to occur when he arrived at New Echota. John was wise to suggest that the idea appear to come from Benjamin, since they were more likely to accept it after partaking of the Rogers family hospitality. They were interesting guests and he was happy to have their help, even if they were not very knowledgeable of farm work. Still, there were only so many chores he could assign them, no matter how willing they were.

John was also correct that these people had much to learn about the Cherokee world they had stumbled into. They were not stupid; they had understanding of some things that were beyond his understanding, but they were like very young children about the ways of the world, and it would take much teaching to make them think like adults. Benjamin wondered what that said about the future. If these people were some of the brightest, how childlike and naive must the rest of them be?

He did not mind bringing them to New Echota. He had already agreed to attend a meeting with John Carter and the others, and he really did need to go there to pick up supplies. He would be making the run the day after tomorrow, hoping John would have had time by then to quell most of the uproar from his news. He was anxious to speak with some of the others in town and hear their opinions on the Georgia matter.

Before long, Benjamin noticed the women pass by, returning to the farmhouse. They had put aside the planting so they could complete the preparation of the evening meal. The men finished spreading and plowing their field, and Benjamin began directing the group to wrap up the day’s field work. Isaac unhitched the plow horses, while the other men loaded the plow into the manure wagon to bring it back to the barn. Once they had gotten the tools and implements stored to Benjamin’s satisfaction, they left the removal of the harnesses to Isaac and headed to the farmhouse. The two farm dogs followed the men, sniffing at their heels, apparently attracted to the odor of the manure.

“Get away, dog!” Sal said as he shooed the animal away who was rubbing against his pant leg. “What’s up with dogs always trying to roll in something nasty,” he asked no one in particular.

“Well, the theory is…” Tom started.

“It figures, dude,” Sal interrupted. “Only you would actually have a theory about why dogs roll in crap.”

“You’re the one who asked,” Tom replied. “As I was saying, they do it to mask their scent. Dogs are hunters, and they instinctively try to cover up their own smell so they will have better luck stalking their game. Makes perfect sense, actually.”

“Not to me, man. You’d think being stalked by a four-legged turd would scare away more animals than the dog smell.” said Sal to everyone’s laughter.

When they reached the farmhouse, they saw that Catherine had laid out several buckets of rainwater, scrub brushes, and lye soap on the back porch. Obviously they were expected to clean up thoroughly before entering the house. Catherine and Alice came out of the back door, each with an armload of clean clothes, and set them on the porch table.

“Here are some fresh clothes for you all,” Catherine said. “Sal, you are close to Benjamin’s size, so I brought you some of his extras. Tom and Adam are about as big as Isaac, so here are a few things I made for him. They are not as nice as your own fine clothes, but at least they are clean.”

They thanked her and took the clothes, buckets, brushes, and soap to the side porch where they stripped off their smelly clothing, scrubbed down meticulously, and rinsed off the filth. The borrowed clothing made them look more like farmers than test engineers. Benjamin’s clothes were just a bit short for Sal, and Isaac’s a bit too large on Tom and Adam, and every piece of clothing had been mended more than once, but as Catherine said, at least they were clean.

Freshly scrubbed and clothed, the men entered the kitchen and took their places at the table. Alice and Sally filled cups with the
gahnohayna
drink for each person. She relayed what Catherine had told her; that it was a traditional drink usually offered to visitors. Tentatively tasting it, they found it to be thick and bland, just a little sour, but refreshing.

“Not bad,” said Adam. “Certainly different, and I can see how the taste could grow on you. Thank you for sharing it with us.”

“If you are going to work, dress, and eat like a Cherokee farmer,” Benjamin said, “you should also learn to speak like one.
Wado
is how you say thank-you in Cherokee.”

“
Wado
very much, then,” Adam said. He raised his cup in a toast, “here’s to the Rogers family and their beautiful farm.
Wado
for making us feel welcome!”

“
Wado
,” repeated Alice, Tom, and Sal, joining in the toast.

“And
wado
to you all,” said Benjamin returning the toast, “for all your hard work today.”

There was not much more for conversation during the meal, other than copious comments about how delicious everything was. The hard day’s work, fresh air, and sunshine had given them voracious appetites, and the platters of pork and bowls of boiled vegetables made their way around the table at least twice.

After the meal, the women cleaned up in the kitchen and the men went to the stables to see to the grooming and a few final chores. Tom and Benjamin smoked their pipes as they walked. It was still early, and Benjamin’s work day usually went on past dark. He could see his guests were fit, but they were not used to long days of hard work. He decided to let them relax a little early on their first full day as farm hands. Besides, if part of the intention was to educate these newcomers, the evening storytelling would be very beneficial to them. He was surprised at Alice’s adeptness at storytelling last evening, and was looking forward to tonight’s session. It was his favorite part of the day.

Chapter nineteen

I
t was still light when they assembled for storytelling on the front porch. They claimed a comfortable seat and watched the setting sun cast colorful shadows from behind the house. Silvey served everyone another cupful of
gahnohayna
before going off to have her evening meal with Isaac. Benjamin brought out two kerosene lanterns and hung them on the posts of the porch. He found himself a comfortable seat, offered Tom another pipe full of tobacco and filled his own. Using a burning stick from the kitchen hearth, he lit Tom’s pipe and got his own corncob pipe going with a great cloud of blue smoke, then used the brand to light the lanterns. It was his turn to tell the story for the Rogers family, and his puffing helped set the mood and get his thoughts together before beginning. After a few minutes of silent smoking, Benjamin said that tonight he would tell them two stories. “The first is a short but very important story about how the Cherokee people came to have
tso-lu
—tobacco.” Everyone settled into their seats and listened intently.

“Long, long ago,” Benjamin began, “when the people and the animals all lived together, there was only one single tobacco plant. That one plant provided all the tobacco for the Tsalagi. Everyone got the tobacco they needed from that plant, and they depended on having it. As you know, tobacco is needed for spiritual offerings and for curing many ailments. There was even one very old woman who was so old that the tobacco was the only thing that kept her alive.

“Everything was fine until one day, the
Dagul-Ku
, the white-fronted geese, stole the plant and took it away with them when they flew south for the winter. Well, this was not good, because all of the people were suffering without the tobacco, and the old woman became very thin and weak and everyone thought she would surely die.

“The other animals knew how important the tobacco was to the people, and they wanted to help. Many of the animals tried to go and get the plant back from the
Dagul-Ku
, but none could because the geese would catch them and kill them before they got to the plant. Even the Mole tried to get it by digging a tunnel underground, but the
Dagul-Ku
saw what he was doing and killed him when he came above the ground.

“Then the tiny hummingbird said that he wanted to try to get it back. The others told him to stop being silly, that he was much too small to try, and he should just go home. The hummingbird begged them to let him at least try, so they told him he would have to show them how he intended to get the plant. They took him to a field and planted a plant there, and said he should demonstrate to them what he would do. Before they could blink, the tiny hummingbird zipped off to the plant, and then in a flash he was back again. The others decided that because he was so fast, they would let him try.

“So the little hummingbird flew to where the
Dagul-Ku
had the tobacco plant. He saw that all the geese were watching the plant. But the hummingbird was so fast, he darted to the plant and snatched the leaves and the seeds off the top before the
Dagul-Ku
could see what he was up to.

“The hummingbird flew straight home with the plant top. The old woman was very weak by then, but they blew smoke in her nose and made her well again, so she didn’t die. Then they planted the seeds and the people have had tobacco ever since, thanks to the tiny little hummingbird!”

“Hooray for the hummingbird!” shouted Sally and Billy, and everyone clapped for the story.

“That was your Tsalagi name when you were a boy, wasn’t it?” asked Billy.

“Yes, it was. They called me Hummingbird because even though I was small as a boy, I was a very fast runner, and could beat many of the other boys in races. So even if you are a small person, you can still have abilities that make you valuable to the community,” he said, giving Sal a quick wink.

“I’m small, too,” said Sally, “but Billy is faster than me and always beats me in a race.”

“Yes, Billy is very fast,” Benjamin concurred, “but you are very beautiful, like
ka-ma-ma
, the Butterfly. Perhaps that is what we should call you—Butterfly.”

“Butterfly,” Sally repeated softly. “Butterflies are very pretty,” she said, clearly embarrassed by her father’s compliment.

“Do all Cherokees have a Tsalagi name?” asked Alice.

“Many are given names as a child,” said Catherine, “and later may take or earn one or more names in later life. It is the grandmother’s right to give a child his first name. That was the traditional way, but now many Cherokee also have a ‘white name’ like yours and ours. Some families now only use their English names. This alteration is one of the many changes to our culture to try and make us more acceptable to the whites.”

“Which brings me to my next story,” said Benjamin. “It is also short, and has to do with names.”

The sun had fully set, and above the dim glow of the lanterns the stars shone brightly in the dark sky. He pointed to a broad swath of stars overhead. “Do you remember what we call that path of stars, Billy?”

“The Milky Way,” he answered.

“That is correct. The Cherokee call it
Gili-utsun-yi
, and now I will tell you how it got its name.” He stirred and tamped his pipe, relit it from the lantern, pausing for effect. Then he began the story:

“There was a family who owned a mill where they went to grind corn into meal every day. They would haul the corn from their farm to the mill and fill it every morning, and the family members would take turns pounding the corn. It was much work, but they were grateful for the corn and the mill, and made a good living from it. After a while though, they began to notice that in the morning when they arrived with the corn, some of the meal was missing. It was being stolen during the night. This happened on several occasions, and they noticed that there were very large dog footprints in the meal. They decided that they would catch the dog in the act, so the next night they hid at the mill, and saw a giant dog with wings swoop down from the sky and begin eating the meal. The family jumped out from their hiding place and yelled and kicked at the dog. The frightened dog flew away howling, the cornmeal dropping from his mouth leaving a white streak in the night sky. Each grain of the meal became a star, which we see as the Milky Way. And that is why to this day the Cherokee call the Milky Way
Gili-utsun-yi
, which means ‘Where the dog ran’.”

Benjamin watched as everyone on the porch gazed at the constellation, even more brilliant as the sky was now fully dark. It didn’t take too much imagination to see the dog running across the sky leaving his trail of cornmeal stars behind.

“Now maybe our guests would care to share another of their wonderful stories,” Benjamin said. All eyes turn to Alice.

“My goodness, I think tonight we should give Adam a turn,” Alice replied.

“Nothing like putting me on the spot, Alice,” Adam said, grinning. “It just so happens I do have a story for you all tonight. I think I can remember all the words. This story is a poem, called
The Lake of the Dismal Swamp
, by Thomas Moore, but it’s kind of scary, so maybe it’s not really a good story to tell the children…”