"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.
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.
( Caroline B. Cooney )
[ The Ransom of Mercy Carter ]
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