Book: The Ransom of Mercy Carter
Quotes of Book: The Ransom of Mercy Carter
They marched until the captives could not take another step. Eben dragged Eliza half the way and Sarah dragged her the rest. Mercy and Joseph took turns hauling Ruth. That night they slept like rocks, and in the morning Mercy understood why bears spent the whole winter sleeping. It sounded good to Mercy.Perhaps it sounded good to the Indians too, because they did not leave camp. Instead, they built two fires, gathering an enormous woodpile.Joseph was stripped of his English clothes. Too torn and filthy to bother with, they were tossed into the woods. He was given a long deerskin shirt and leggings that hung from thigh to ankle, held up by cords strung to a belt. Then came coat, hat and mittens, all Indian.How dark Joseph's hair was. How tan his skin. Joseph looked like a young brave.In a moment, the Indians did the same with Eben, whose coloring was very English, ruddy cheeks and straw-yellow hair. He did not look at all Indian, but in deerskin, he looked tough and strong and much older.The girls were nervous. They did not want their clothes stripped off their bodies, no matter how torn and filthy. But Eben's Indian, Thorakwaneken, hoisted a flintlock musket and looked questioningly at each girl.Mercy could not imagine what he was asking of her. Eliza did not notice him or the gun. And Ruth was the last person to whom a sensible Indian would hand a weapon.Sarah, however, nodded. "I'm a good shot." She took the musket from Thorakwaneken.Food was such a problem that even Joseph and Eben would be armed and sent forth to hunt. The girls would stay by the fire with enough wood to last for days, and Sarah to fend off wolves. book-quoteMercy herself was so hungry, she was faint. Tannhahorens would despise her for it. She tried to keep her feet from weaving and her tears from falling, but she could not.Tannhahorens took her hands and cupped them. Then he removed a small deerskin pouch from his belt and into her cupped hands poured dust. He licked his empty palm and lifted his chin at her to indicate that she was to do the same. Hesitantly, Mercy licked the dust.It was parched corn, ground almost to the point of flour. It had a salty, burned taste. It surprised her, and she shuddered, but immediately she wanted more and took a second lick. It was good. It was even filling. She glanced at the sky. The temperature was dropping. It would snow tonight. Three hundred people would have gone a dozen different routes, and by dawn, their tracks would be eaten by the snow, dusted by the wind. book-quoteThe only good thing about this rough land was firewood. No human had ever gathered a fallen branch here. So they could stay warm, but they had nothing to cook over the flames. It seemed to Eben the Indians ought to worry more about this than they did. They spent every daylight hour looking for game, found nothing and did not mention it. Instead, they sat by the fire, smoked and told war stories.It was the captives who discussed food, describing meals they had had a month ago or hoped to have in the future. They discussed pancakes, maple syrup and butter. Stew and biscuits and apple pie.Ruth said to Mercy, "You and Eben and Joseph are so proud of your savage vocabulary. Tell them they're Indians, they're supposed to know how to find deer.""There aren't any deer," said Joseph.Ruth snorted. "We just have stupid Indians."Suddenly the whole thing seemed hilarious to Mercy: a little circle of starving white children, crouching in the snow, and a little circle of apparently not starving Indian men, sitting in the snow, all of them surrounded by hundreds of miles of trees, while Ruth spat fire. "Ruth," said Mercy, "do you know what your name means?""My name is Ruth.""Your name is Mahakemo," Mercy told her. "And it means 'Fire Eats Her'." Mercy began to laugh, and Joseph and Eben and Sarah laughed with her. Even Eliza looked interested, but Ruth, furious to find that the Indians were laughing at her instead of being respectful of her, began throwing things at Mercy.Mercy rolled out of range while Ruth pelted her with Joseph's hat and Tannhahorens's mittens and then with snowballs; finding them too soft, Ruth grabbed her Indians powder horn.Mercy jumped up and ran away from Ruth and out into the snow, and in front of her were a pair of yellow eyes.The eyes were level with Mercy's waist. They were not human eyes.No deer for humans also meant no deer for wolves.Mercy meant to scream, but Tannhahorens got there first, in the form of a bullet.Wolf for dinner.It turned out that the English could eat anything if they were hungry enough. book-quoteEben realized that he need not worry about being burned or tortured. He was going to starve to death.Eben had thought that up here, where nobody lived or ever had, the deer would be standing in rows in the woods awaiting a bullet. He had expected rabbits and grouse, moose and beaver. But there was no game.They built shelters from woven branches, piling spruce and hemlock on top to keep out the snow. Each day some of the Indians left to hunt and each day they came back with nothing. It had never occurred to Eben that an Indian could go hunting and find nothing.He was not sure how far they still had to go to reach Canada.He had seen a map once that showed the Connecticut River, how it split the colony of Connecticut in half, then cut up through Massachusetts, headed north through unknown lands and bumped into Canada. The northern part of the map was guesswork. Eben needed a French map, which would show the city of Montreal, where the French kept their government, and the St. Lawrence River, down which fortunes in fur were shipped. He could not ask his master. An Indian kept his map in his head. book-quoteThe Indian next to Mr. Williams interrupted him roughly. "We kill. You tell."Mr. Williams ceased to pray. "Joe Alexander escaped last night," he said. "If anyone else tries to escape, they will burn the rest of us alive."Burn alive? Burn innocent women and children because one young man flew from their grasp?Her Indian stood some distance away amid the other warriors. He was now wearing a vivid blue cloth coat of European design. In one hand he held his French flintlock, and over his shoulder hung his bow and a full otter-skin quiver--actually, the entire dead otter, complete with face and feet. His coat hung open to show a belt around his waist, from which hung his tomahawk and scalping knife. His skin was not red after all, but the color of autumn. Burnished chestnut. His shaved head gleamed. He looked completely and utterly savage.He might sorrow for a dead brother warrior, but grief would make him more likely to burn a captive, not less likely.Mercy imagined kindling around her feet, a stake at her back, her flesh charring like a side of beef.Beside her, Eben seemed almost to faint.Mercy had the odd thought that she, an eleven-year-old girl, might be stronger than he, a seventeen-year-old boy.The English were silent, entirely able to believe they might be burned.The first person to move was Mercy's Indian. Sharply raising one hand, bringing the eyes of all upon him, he pointed to Mercy Carter.She was frozen with horror.His finger beckoned. There could be no mistake. The meaning was There was no speech and no movement from a hundred captives and three hundred enemies. It was the French Mercy hated at that moment. How could they stand by and let other whites be burned alive?She had no choice but to go to him. She set Daniel down. Perhaps they would spare Daniel. Perhaps only she was to be burned.She forced herself to keep her chin up, her eyes steady and her steps even. How could she be afraid of going where her five-year-old brother had gone first? O Tommy, she thought, rest in the Lord. Perhaps you are with Mother now. Perhaps I will see you in a moment.She did not want to die.Her footsteps crunched on the snow.Nobody spoke. Nobody moved.The Indian handed Mercy a slab of cornmeal bread, and then beckoned to Daniel, who cried, "Oh, good, I'm so hungry!" and came running, his happy little face tilted in a smile at the Indian who fed him. "Mercy said we'd eat later," Daniel confided in the Indian.The English trembled in their relief and the French laughed. book-quoteIt was worth going into the water just to get away from Ruth's nagging. Mercy waded in, appalled by how cold it was. Snow Walker towed her around for a minute and then let go. At first Mercy couldn't take two strokes without having to stand up and reassure herself that there was a bottom, but soon she could swim ten, and then twenty, strokes. Joseph, who had been swimming with the boys, paddled over to admire her new skill.Snow Walker coaxed them to put their heads under the water and swim like fish. Mercy loved it. Wiping river water from her eyes and laughing, she shouted, "Come on in, Joanna!" In front of Snow Walker, she spoke Mohawk. "It feels so cool and slippery inside the water."Joanna shook her head. "I can't see where I'm going on land. I don't want to be blind in water over my head.""Ruth!" yelled Joseph, in English so she'd answer. "Try it. I won't pull you under by the toes. I promise.""Savages swim," said Ruth. "English people walk or ride horses."By now, Mercy had flung her tunic onto the grass and was as bare as everybody else. When Ruth scolded, Mercy ducked under the water and stayed there until the yelling was over."Just wait till you get out, Mercy," said Ruth. "The mosquitos are going to feast on your wet bare skin."Mercy translated for Snow Walker, who said, "No, no. We grease to keep the mosquitos away."Joseph, of course, had been greasing for weeks, but so far Mercy had not submitted. Ruth, unwilling to see Mercy slather bear fat over her nakedness, stalked away."Good," said Snow Walker, giggling. "The fire is out. We are safe now."Mercy was startled. "I never heard you use her old name.""I don't call her Let the Sky In," explained Snow Walker. "She would let nothing in but storms."Snow Walker's not such a fence post after all, thought Mercy. "Snow Walker, why have they given Ruth such a fine new name?""I don't know. One day at a feast, the story will be told.""They'll have to gag Ruth before they tell it," said Joseph. "She hates her new name even more than she hated her old one."They got out of the water, racing in circles to dry off, and then Snow Walker rubbed bear grease all over Mercy. "I can't see you from here, Munnonock," said Joanna, "but I can smell you.""Want some?" said Mercy, planning to attack with a scoop of bear grease, but Joanna left for the safety of the cornfields and her mother. Snow Walker went back in to join a water ball team. book-quoteThey reached a river where the water was open, seething and churning over rocks.We're going to cross that? thought Mercy. It's too wide and deep. We'll drown.Tannhahorens took off his tobacco necklace. He loved to smoke, as did all the warriors. Since they smoked only when they had time and felt safe, the prisoners also loved it when the men smoked; it meant everybody had time and was safe.Tannhahorens poured tobacco into his palm. He lifted it toward the sky, calling as the loon called, his voice shivering through the wilderness. Then he faced the river and held, it seemed to Mercy, a conversation with the river. Finally, over the sharp rocks and ripping current, Tannhahorens threw all his tobacco. Every Indian did the same. The captives stared.Eliza, who had not spoken once since her husband was struck down, said, "It's an offering. They give their best to the river, and hope the river will give its best to them."They walked upstream, fighting thickets and snarling brooks. When the Indians stopped to kick at a great melting drift, Mercy was too tired even to wonder.Snow covered a dugout canoe. Forty or fifty feet long, it had been made of one great pine, the center core burned out and chiseled clean. They would paddle the rest of the way.Mercy lay on fur on the bottom of the dugout, the sounds of water above her head, for she was lower than the surface of the river. Not having to carry her own body was joy. The loons called back for hours, wailing a long wandering cry, like a bell that would not stop ringing or a sob that would not stop weeping.Tannhahorens said to Mercy, "It is the speech of the north," and Mercy understood.That wild terrifying beautiful cry was the sound of where she was going. book-quote"Oh, Eben!" breathed Mercy, thrilled and astonished. "Guess what?"The glare off the ice was bothering him, and as the temperature rose, the snow on the frozen river was turning to slush. His moccasins were soaked and his feet were so cold he could hardly bear the pressure of each step. "What?""I can figure out Mohawk words, Eben!" she said excitedly. " was one of the first words Tannhahorens taught us. And we learned to count, so I know the number means 'Two Suns.' Your master's name is Two Suns! And --that's the word we use most. Eunice's master is Cold Sun." She turned her own sunny smile on him.Eben was unsettled by how proud she was. He did not want to compliment her. Uneasily, he said, "What does mean?""I haven't figured that out. He's told me, but I can't piece together whatever he's saying. I don't know what means either."Mercy darted across the slush to her Indian master, and although they were too far away for Eben to hear, he knew she was asking Tannhahorens to explain again the meaning of his name and hers.He knew, everyone on the frontier knew, how quickly captive English children slid into being Indians, but he had not thought he would witness it in a week. He had thought it would be three-year-olds, like Daniel, or seven-year-olds, like Eunice.But it was Mercy.Ruth walked next to Eben. For once their horror was equal.A mile or so of silence, and then Ruth spoke. "The Indians have a sacred leader. Their powwow. He has a ceremony by which all white blood is removed. They say it is a wondrous thing and never fails."They walked on. The temperature had dropped again and each of Eben's moccasins was solid with ice. Every time he set his foot down, he stuck to the congealing slick of the river and had to tear himself free. Soon the moccasins would be destroyed and he would be barefoot."I know now why it never fails," said Ruth. "The children arrive at the ceremony ready to be Indian. book-quoteThe girl who had been Mercy Carter stood for a long time watching the canoes disappear down the St. Lawrence. She had waved after Daniel, had been too crushed to wave after Sarah and Eben, and never thought of waving after Deacon Sheldon.Ransom, she thought. I didn't take it.Nistenha removed the hat, folded it and touched the heavy gold braids. "Daughter?"It seemed to the girl that sky and wind and river held their peace and waited to hear. Mother, she thought, beloved mother in heaven, forgive me. I walk now into another life. "Nistenha," she said."It is your choice? For if not, my daughter, we follow them.""It is my choice," said Nistenha's daughter. book-quoteBut am I lost?
And am I Mercy Carter? she had promised Uncle Nathaniel. I will remember my family, my God and my home.
I have not broken my promise. I remember my family with love. I honor my God in every way…and in every language. And my home--
Is it here?
It seemed to Mercy that she needed more time--weeks, months, even years--to know the answer to that question. She had been thinking about it since May of 1704, and yet she did not know. Annisquam had set it down. Mercy carried it all, the burden strap of memory still cutting her forehead.
The French priest asked the deacon if he would like to enter the French church and see where the children of Deerfield worshiped, but Deacon Sheldon shook his head in horror and walked back to the boat.
Mercy Carter closed her eyes. Latin slipped into her prayer, and Mohawk, and French, and she felt herself swept away by so many languages. So many fears and hopes were the same, so many answers as hard to find, in every language.
When she finished speaking to the Lord, Deacon Sheldon was gone.
And so was Mercy Carter. book-quote
