They marched.
"Ask your Indian his name," Mercy said softly to Eben. "They like that."
So Eben patted his chest and said, "Eben." Then he touched his Indian's arm and said, "Who are you?"
"Thorakwaneken."
Eben said it over and over until Thorakwaneken nodded and Eben supposed he had the pronunciation right. Mercy pointed to a squirrel sitting on a branch. "Thorakwaneken," she said, "what is that?"
" repeated Mercy, and Eben echoed her. Squirrel.
Eben would rather have had that knife pierce his chest and kill him than live to acquire an Indian vocabulary, but it was something to do and it kept Mercy cheerful. Eben did not much care if he lived, but he could not bear the thought of one more girl dying.
"Ask your Indian his name," Mercy said softly to Eben. "They like that."
So Eben patted his chest and said, "Eben." Then he touched his Indian's arm and said, "Who are you?"
"Thorakwaneken."
Eben said it over and over until Thorakwaneken nodded and Eben supposed he had the pronunciation right. Mercy pointed to a squirrel sitting on a branch. "Thorakwaneken," she said, "what is that?"
" repeated Mercy, and Eben echoed her. Squirrel.
Eben would rather have had that knife pierce his chest and kill him than live to acquire an Indian vocabulary, but it was something to do and it kept Mercy cheerful. Eben did not much care if he lived, but he could not bear the thought of one more girl dying.
( Caroline B. Cooney )
[ The Ransom of Mercy Carter ]
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