Chesapeake by James A. Michener Read Free Book Online Page B

made this day so memorable. At last, when night surrounded the village, the former slave of the Susquehannocks slipped away.
    In the ensuing weeks the villagers rebuilt their wigwams and instructed Pentaquod in their language, a much simpler one than his. In all ways this tribe lived on a less complicated level than the Susquehannocks: their werowance had little power and their possessions were fewer. Their medicine man was not so formidable as the mysterious shamans of the north, and for him to try to enforce decisions of life and death would have been laughable; he was a good-luck charm and nothing more.
    The little old werowance was named Orapak; he was past sixty and must soon die, but was allowed to retain his office because there was none to challenge him. He was a wise old man, and gentle too, and for many years he had kept his tribe out of serious trouble. ‘When the Nanticokes come north to fight us, we flee farther north,’ he explained. ‘And when the Susquehannocks come south to fight us, we flee to the south.’
    ‘Doesn’t that take you into Nanticoke country?’
    ‘No, because when we flee south, we go into the marshes, and the Nanticokes wouldn’t dare follow us.’ He hesitated. ‘Mosquitoes, you know.’
    ‘I know. Last summer I lived in the marsh.’
    ‘Brave man,’ the werowance said. Then he asked, ‘Why did you think we leave our village each summer?’
    ‘What good do mosquitoes do?’ Pentaquod asked, whereupon the old man raised his eyes to heaven and replied, ‘On that first day Scar-chin here told you of how Manitou gave this river everything, and then one thing more, the crab. Well, when that was done He said, “Now I will keep men from becoming arrogant,” and He threw in the mosquito.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘To remind us that He can do anything He pleases, and we have to like it.’
    Pentaquod decided that now was the time to raise the question of his membership in the tribe. ‘The river is excellent. I enjoyed it when I lived here alone.’
    The werowance studied this declaration, then blew out his cheeks, signifying that he appreciated the gravity of what had been said. The Susquehannock was pointing out that he had acquired possession of the place after the villagers had deserted it. He was intimating ownership, even though many warriors were available to contest it. Orapak realized how powerful this stranger was; quite likely he could defeat any of the warriors who up to now had defeated nobody. Warily he said, ‘It would be good if you stayed with us,’ adding hastily, ‘in the wigwam that’s already yours.’
    ‘I would like that,’ Pentaquod replied, and no more was said about his citizenship. He continued to occupy his wigwam, which women showed him how to finish properly, and he began paying court to Navitan, the werowance’s granddaughter. At seventeen she had been eyeing some of the young warriors during the summer encampment, but nothing much had happened and she now showed herself receptive to the moves the tall Susquehannock was making.
    They were married before the first snow. The old women were delighted that their Navitan had caught herself such a daring man, and the shaman who performed the ceremony gave it as his opinion that Manitou Himself had sent Pentaquod to protect this village.
    In the division of labor common to tribes along the Chesapeake, Pentaquod specialized in cutting tall trees, shaping them and burning out their interior so that canoes could be built. He also became the expert in hunting geese, those remarkable fowl that he had known simply as big birds: from oak and pine he carved eighteen rude likenesses of the geese, coloring them with earthen paints discovered by the tribe, and these he placed at strategic spots related to wind and shore, luring the birds so close that he rarely missed with his strong bow. But the killing of a goose always bothered him; for although he loved the taste of the roasted flesh, he did not like to see the stately