Three Adventure Tales Read online

  Singing-Moon folded their T-shirts and shorts and stored them under the bench they slept on. When she finished making two pairs of moccasins, she put away their sneakers, too.

  After all the harvesting and hunting was finished, the village had a festival with feasting as well as dancing. It went on for three days.

  There wasn’t much work for the two children to do now. Singing-Moon spent most of her time pounding corn into meal.

  Max and Terry went to visit Wise-Defender. The women who lived in the big house with him were always preparing food, tanning hides, gathering firewood, weaving baskets, and taking care of children. They had no time to talk to the old man or listen to his stories.

  Terry and Max were happy to listen to him.

  Wise-Defender was carving tiny purple and white beads from two different kinds of seashells. While he worked he talked to the children.

  “Everything has a spirit,” he told them. “Not just people, but also animals, trees, birds, the sun, the moon, and the four winds. When an animal has to be killed, his spirit must be asked for pardon.”

  Wise-Defender showed them thin sticks, each about six inches long, with picture writing on them. Max and Terry couldn’t read it, but Wise-Defender said that all the tribes who had dealings with the Leni-Lenape understood it. The sticks were used to send messages, and also to keep a record of history.

  “Long ago the Leni-Lenape lived beside the blue sea the sun sinks into at the end of the day,” Wise-Defender told them. “When trouble came, the Leni-Lenape moved to settle somewhere else. When trouble started there, they moved away again. After thousands of moons and many more moves, they came here where the sun comes up out of a gray sea. The Leni-Lenape were the first tribe to settle here.

  “Other tribes say we are women, because we do not want war. But when they go to war with each other, they ask us to help make peace.”

  Max and Terry watched while Wise-Defender carved and polished a tiny bead.

  “I’ve run out of shells,” he said. “I was making these beads for Singing-Moon to sew on her headband.”

  “Where do you get the shells?” Terry asked.

  “There are shell banks by the seashore,” Wise-Defender told her. “Blackbird-on-the-Wing knows where they are.”

  He stood up and stretched. “I wonder what’s going on outdoors. Let’s go and see.” He picked up a bow and a case of arrows. Then he pushed back the mat that covered the nearest door. Max and Terry followed him out of the house. It was getting dark.

  Wise-Defender raised his bow and fitted an arrow to the cord. “Don’t move!” he whispered.

  Something tawny and spotted leaped from the shadows. The bowstring twanged.

  A big spotted cat stumbled and fell to the ground a few feet in front of them.

  “I’m sorry I have to do this to you, Old Lynx,” Wise-Defender said as he shot another arrow into the cat. It took two more before the lynx was dead.

  “As it gets to be winter,” Wise-Defender told the children, “animals leap the fence and come close to the houses. I’d better walk you home.”

  The next day was sunny but cold and windy. “It will be colder at the shore,” Blackbird-on-the-Wing told Terry. “Do you still want to go there?”

  “It will be even colder soon,” Terry argued. “And Wise-Defender can’t make the beads for Singing-Moon’s headband if he hasn’t any shells.”

  “Wrap yourselves in these. They’ll keep you warm.” Singing-Moon brought three furry robes out of storage.

  Max took one with shaggy black fur.

  “Be sure to wear the fur on the inside,” Singing-Moon said. “It’s warmer that way.”

  All three carried their big sacks. Blackbird-on-the-Wing had a spear as well. They followed the trail along the stream, across the wide plain, and past the pond where they had gone swimming. After a while they heard seabirds screaming. The path led to a cliff. They looked down at the waters of an enormous bay.

  Blackbird-on-the-Wing pointed across the water. “Those are the Haunted Woods.”

  “Terry,” Max whispered. “I’m sure that’s Staten Island!”

  “Only there’s no bridge,” Terry agreed, “or any buildings.”

  The path snaked its way down the steep cliff. They had to grab hold of bushes to keep from sliding.

  At the bottom of the cliff they came to a narrow, stony beach. Blackbird-on-the-Wing led them under overhanging rocks and around uprooted trees to a little cave hidden by trailing vines.

  The floor of the cave was damp and covered with shells.

  Blackbird-on-the-Wing showed them the two kinds of shells to gather. There were many of them there.

  “We have to work fast. When the tide is in, this cave is full of water.” Blackbird-on-the-Wing was using his spear to dig up live clams and oysters and drop them into his sack.

  Max and Terry worked as fast as they could. When the sand under their moccasins started to become squashy, Blackbird-on-the-Wing picked up his sack and led the way out of the cave.

  They walked quickly back to the path and climbed carefully up the cliff.

  The wind was blowing harder now. It was much colder here than in the cave.

  Terry was glad to have the soft beaver robe. It didn’t look at all like her aunt Sophie’s beaver coat. That was sheared to look like velvet. And her aunt didn’t wear the fur on the inside next to her skin.

  Blackbird-on-the-Wing opened his bag of cornmeal. They each took a handful and chewed it slowly as they walked home with the heavy sacks.

  Very early one morning, Max and Blackbird-on-the-Wing found a fat bear in the deadfall.

  Two young men helped them drag it back to the village. Their wives joined Singing-Moon in the job of skinning the bear and cutting it up. This kept them busy for days.

  The meat was shared with all the families. Some of it was skewered on sticks and held over the fire to cook. And some was placed in the coals to roast. And of course, every big wooden bowl in the village was boiling.

  After the meat in one enormous bowl was cooked, Singing-Moon skimmed the fat off the top of the boiling water. She poured the fat into a clay jar. “We’re lucky that bear hadn’t gone to sleep for the winter. I thought I was going to run out of bear grease.”

  “What do you use it for?” Terry asked.

  “It keeps mosquitoes away,” Singing-Moon told her. “If you rub it on yourself when you’re outdoors in very cold weather, it helps you stay warm. And the men use it on their hair.”

  The young men and boys shaved the sides of their heads and left a wide strip of hair in the middle. Now Terry knew how they made the hair stick up straight like a rooster’s comb.

  As the days grew shorter and colder, Singing-Moon did most of her work indoors. One day, after the meat was smoked and stored away, Terry helped her tan the bearskin. They hung it over the fire so the smoke would keep it from molding.

  Singing-Moon began to feed her baby.

  Max pushed back the flap and came rushing through one of the doors. Blackbird-on-the-Wing was right behind him. They were both excited.

  “A messenger has come from one of the tribes up the river,” Blackbird-on-the-Wing said. “The chief of the tribe in the next valley wants to make war on his tribe. The messenger asked Wise-Defender to go back with him to make peace.” Blackbird-on-the-Wing looked at Max. “Tell them the rest.”

  “Wise-Defender wants me to go with him,” Max said.

  Terry grabbed his arm. “You can’t go without me!”

  Max grinned. “I told Wise-Defender that’s what you’d say.”

  “Why can’t someone else go with Wise-Defender?” Singing-Moon wanted to know.

  “I asked him,” Blackbird-on-the-Wing told her. “Wise-Defender wouldn’t tell me the reason.”

  Red-Arrow stood in front of Wise-Defender’s house. He was a tall, strong young man, dressed in deerskins like the Leni-Lenape, but his face and hands were covered with designs of red paint.

  “Oh, isn’t he
beautiful?” Snow-Flower whispered.

  Everybody in the village had gathered around to look at the messenger from upriver. They all thought he looked wonderful.

  “I bring you greetings of peace and friendship,” Red-Arrow told them. “Your chief, Wise-Defender, has agreed to go with me to make peace with a tribe that talks of war against my people.”

  “I will leave tomorrow,” Wise-Defender said. “Max and Terry will come with me.”

  They didn’t pack much for the trip. Singing-Moon gave the children each a supply of cornmeal in a little bag. She handed Terry a small flat stick and a little wooden bowl of red clay. “Be sure you paint red designs on Wise-Defender before he meets the other chiefs.”

  They put extra fur robes in their big sacks. Before they left, Wise-Defender gave Terry and Max each three round paddles that had wooden rims around a mesh of thin leather strips. “Keep these in your sacks.

  “They look like tennis rackets,” Max told his sister. “He must be planning a friendly game with the other chiefs.”

  The sky was clear and blue as the four travelers started on their journey. There was no wind, but the air was cold, and the ground was crunchy under their feet. They walked along the path near the stream.

  Red-Arrow went first. A stone axe hung from his belt. He carried a sack as well as a bow and arrows. Terry and Max came after him with their sacks and Max’s slingshot. Wise-Defender was last, holding a sack and carrying his spear over his shoulder.

  They went the same way that Blackbird-on-the-Wing had taken Terry and Max to look for seashells.

  At the foot of the winding path down the cliff, Red-Arrow ran to a clump of bushes. He peeked into a thick tangle of vines and branches. “It’s still here! I was afraid someone might find it. My father and I worked for three years to make this canoe.” He started to pull off the twisted vines.

  The canoe was carved from a single tree and was very heavy. It took all four of them to shove it across the narrow beach into the water.

  “How did you get it out of the water all by yourself?” Terry asked Red-Arrow.

  “It was high tide then,” he told her. “I paddled right up to the bushes and tied up the canoe. After that I covered it with vines and pine branches.”

  They took off their leather stockings and their moccasins and put them into their sacks. Then they waded to the boat with the sacks.

  The paddles were in the canoe. Red-Arrow handed one to each of them and started paddling north across the bay.

  It was much colder in the canoe than in the woods. Wise-Defender made them all put fur robes over their bare legs and feet. The paddling kept their arms warm.

  They paddled steadily north and past a few small islands. After a while the bay split into two rivers. Red-Arrow steered the canoe up the river on the left.

  Dark forests were on both sides of them. Farther on, gigantic stone cliffs rose up on one side of the river.

  Still they went on paddling.

  The sun was low in the sky when Red-Arrow steered the canoe to a shallow little cove by the shore. “There’s a shelter here that I use when I’m on fishing trips.”

  They all climbed out and shoved the canoe into the weeds on the riverbank. Red-Arrow put large rocks around it to keep the canoe in place. They took their packs to an overhanging rock.

  This was the shelter.

  It was getting dark. Everybody chewed cornmeal and drank the clear water of the river. They made a pile of leaves and soft branches. Then they rolled themselves in their fur robes, lay down on the pile, and slept until the morning sun woke them.

  For days they paddled up the river. The wooded shores were hilly now. And they could see mountains ahead.

  Each night they slept in a different shelter that Red-Arrow knew. Some were huts of branches covered with leaves. One was a small cave in a cliff.

  It started raining hard on the fourth day. Wise-Defender took from his sack a beautiful cape of turkey feathers knitted together to make a smooth, downy waterproof covering. They all huddled under the big cape until the rain stopped.

  Wise-Defender was afraid the tribes would start fighting before he could stop them. He was in too much of a hurry to take time to hunt or fish or cook. All they ate was cornmeal.

  After dark on the seventh day, Red-Arrow paddled to the shore of the river. “My village is near here,” he said. “I hoped we’d reach it before sunset, but the moon is rising, so we’ll be able to follow the trail to my home.”

  In the dim light Red-Arrow found the clump of reeds where he always hid his canoe. They picked up their sacks and waded ashore.

  Red-Arrow led them on a trail that went up a tree-covered hill.

  Before they reached the top of the hill, they heard voices.

  Red-Arrow signed to them to be quiet. He put his hand to his ear and listened. Then he turned and silently led them back down to the river again.

  “We’ll have to go to my home by the secret way,” Red-Arrow whispered. “Those are not my people up there in the woods. I heard them planning to attack our village tonight!”

  The four of them made their way in a wide circle through the forest at the base of the hill. They came to the gate of a high stockade fence. It was closed and barred.

  Red-Arrow hooted four times like an owl. He waited a moment and hooted once more.

  A man with a spear opened the gate a crack. He looked hard at Red-Arrow in the moonlight. When he was sure who it was, he opened the gate. After they were all inside, he shut and barred it again.

  Max and Terry expected to see a group of houses inside the stockade. Instead, there was just one very long house. It had a curved roof with an opening all the way along the top for smoke to come out.

  The house had a single door in the center of a long wall. Red-Arrow opened it for them to go in.

  Terry whispered to Wise-Defender, “Singing-Moon told me to paint you.”

  Wise-Defender spoke to Red-Arrow. “While you tell White-Otter I am here, I want to be alone with Terry and Max.”

  They stepped into the house. Many families lived here. Each one had its own fire and its own living space. The spaces were divided by mats or by animal skins. And over each fire hung meat, fish, corn, and anything else that needed to be smoked.

  Red-Arrow took them to a corner of one of the spaces. It was divided from the rest of the apartment by hanging animal skins. “I am not married, so I live with my cousins. This is where I sleep. No one will bother you here. I’ll come for you after I talk with Chief White-Otter.”

  After Red-Arrow left them, Terry took out the little wooden bowl of red clay. Wise-Defender helped her mix it with a little water from the jar near the family cooking fire.

  Terry loved to draw. She used the little stick Singing-Moon had given her to draw a red dove of peace on Wise-Defender’s forehead and on the backs of his hands. She drew a sun with rays coming out of it on each of his cheeks. Then she scattered butterflies and stars all over his arms.

  Max watched her. “That’s enough, Terry. Don’t overdo it!”

  At this point Red-Arrow returned. “White-Otter wants to talk to you.”

  Terry and Max followed Wise-Defender to the chief’s quarters.

  White-Otter was a man about forty years old. He was decorated in both red and black paint.

  “You can’t talk peace at this point,” Wise-Defender told him. “Don’t wait for Strong-Stone to attack you here. Go into the woods and take him by surprise. I will go with you. My young friends will stay here.”

  White-Otter listened while Wise-Defender whispered his plan. Then he had Red-Arrow give orders to each young man in the big house.

  One by one, carrying spears and bows and arrows, they slipped out of the gate and into the surrounding forest. Red-Arrow went after them.

  Terry saw that Wise-Defender was ready to follow with White-Otter. “Why are you going? You’re a peacemaker. This is war!”

  “I have my reasons,” Wise-Defender said.

  The two ch
iefs went out into the shadows. They were careful not to step where the moonbeams sifted down through the trees.

  “Wise-Defender had a sack with him,” Max told his sister. “I wonder what’s in it.”

  “I was so mad at him that I didn’t even notice the sack. Why should I care what’s in it?” Terry was almost crying.

  “Did you want Wise-Defender to let those men attack the village?” Max asked.

  “He came here to make peace,” Terry reminded him.

  “He was going to get the chiefs to talk to each other,” Max said, “but Strong-Stone is not in the mood for talking.”

  Terry didn’t answer. She felt sick just thinking about what was happening out there in the forest.

  All the people in the big house were very quiet. Although nobody had told them what was going on, they seemed to feel danger.

  The children lay on the benches, but they kept their eyes wide open. Every mother stayed close to her family. The old people huddled around the cooking fires. And everybody was listening.

  Max was expecting whoops and hollers like the ones he’d heard in old cowboy-and-Indian movies. Terry was waiting for shrieks of pain, but all they heard was the wind in the tall pine trees.

  After what seemed like years of waiting, they heard an owl hoot four times. There was a pause. Then the owl hooted once more.

  Perhaps it was a trick. The old men picked up spears. Max put a stone in his slingshot. They went out of the house to open the gate in the stockade.

  When the gate was opened slightly, they heard Wise-Defender’s voice. “Open wide,” he commanded, “and welcome your guests! They are tired and hungry.”

  Both Max and Terry were sure it was a terrible trick of some kind. But the old men opened the gate wide.