It was an hour before the Indians paused again, and then they stopped so abruptly that prisoners were tripping over each other.
It frightened Eben. What was going to happen?
What dread plan might the Indians have for their white prisoners now?
No Indian lifted a weapon. They stood motionless, looking west.
Eben watched for several moments before he was able to pick out distant figures coming toward them. It was not rescue. If those were English, the Indians would long ago have surrounded and attacked them.
Slowly, the shapes turned into men; men carrying burdens; men bent double under the weight, yet not staggering as Eben had. They looked as if they had killed and were carrying entire cows. They were very close before Eben realized he was seeing warriors carrying their wounded. Each hurt man was rolled up into a package, swaddled like a baby in blankets and strapped to a warrior's back. These men were carrying, by their foreheads and on their spines, a weight equal to their own.
Eben was awestruck.
Dropping his own pack on the snow, Eben's Indian knelt beside one of the wounded men, unwrapping bandages to examine the wound. His profile against the snow was beautiful as an eagle or a hawk is beautiful.
It frightened Eben. What was going to happen?
What dread plan might the Indians have for their white prisoners now?
No Indian lifted a weapon. They stood motionless, looking west.
Eben watched for several moments before he was able to pick out distant figures coming toward them. It was not rescue. If those were English, the Indians would long ago have surrounded and attacked them.
Slowly, the shapes turned into men; men carrying burdens; men bent double under the weight, yet not staggering as Eben had. They looked as if they had killed and were carrying entire cows. They were very close before Eben realized he was seeing warriors carrying their wounded. Each hurt man was rolled up into a package, swaddled like a baby in blankets and strapped to a warrior's back. These men were carrying, by their foreheads and on their spines, a weight equal to their own.
Eben was awestruck.
Dropping his own pack on the snow, Eben's Indian knelt beside one of the wounded men, unwrapping bandages to examine the wound. His profile against the snow was beautiful as an eagle or a hawk is beautiful.
( Caroline B. Cooney )
[ The Ransom of Mercy Carter ]
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