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