He looked into Feather Foot with teary eyes-of-sorrow. Gerald, seeming to sense his mood, curled up on his head and groused.
Instruct and enlighten, in the reverse order the notions occurred.
“Feather Foot, these are the English protestors over matters concerning The Beginner. They are quite dangerous as friends or as enemies. The Tree Eaters are lost in welcoming them. If Longhouse People welcome the English or French they shall likewise be lost. First will come the death of your grandfathers’ memories, then the death of the Seven Aspects of Beginning, replaced by the doctrine of Jesus-on-the-Woe-Tree. Then they shall kill your bodies and take your land. Far across the Big Salty is a huge nest of them, as big as Mother Earth, jammed with smelly towns packed with their dirty unwashed multitudes.
“The land is called, even by the Whites, Europe, who was the ravaged sister of their Thunderer. In fact their version of Thunderer is a nasty rapist of mortal women. They do not have a Sky Woman either. Well, to get into their theology, as contradictory as it is, is beyond my purpose. Suffice to say that they have raped their own land, thinking that their self-justifying constructed notion of The Beginner—Jesus-on-the-Woe-Tree supposedly being a son of The Beginner—has condoned the rape of their own Mother Earth and now ours…
“I am sorry for running on my friends—I was once quite taken with formalized spiritual matters and the habit returns. There is only one course. The Whiteman must be fought in the delaying way, and he must be learned from. I fully concur with the killing of the Black Robes and Black Hats if they insist on extolling their subversive creed. However, their warriors and tradesmen have knowledge and skills to offer. You must learn of your enemy. One can successfully adopt and tame a Whiteman just like he would a wolf cub. I have my own White demon in fact—I’m sure you have heard. Having your own domesticated Whiteman to kill enemy Whites is a good trick.”
They are rapt. Inquire as to the captives.
“Feather Foot, do you speak the language of these Whites?”
The elder was apologetic, “The women of the Circle of Hope have all fled, and there is no longer knowledge of the White tongues among the Longhouses. In fact, we do not even know which of these are English as you say and which French, as it is a mixed group that was engaged in an argument when we came upon them.”
Three-Rivers, speaker now of 34 languages—nine of the Whiteman’s alone—swelled with pride, and he spread his arms to indicate that the elders and warriors should form a circle about the three kneeling and bound Whites. He stood before the bearded one who was dressed like a Natural Person and commanded Gerald to untie his bonds—which, cheap trick though it was—brought a murmur of wonder from among the assembled. He then looked into the man’s green eyes and smiled as he spoke in Mother’s best French, “Rise and give account of your time among my people.”
The man said a prayer to the Virgin Mother of Heysuse Christos and rose to face Three-Rivers, them being both short and slight. “I am Louis le Bache a voyager, charged by Lord Champlain with transporting these Jesuits and the English traitor to Fort Orange and then down to New Amsterdam on the Hudson River. There they are to parley with the Dutch governor against the coming of the English into this country.”
The settlement of your country by the Whites is proceeding at the precise rate it did in my timeframe, My Sweet. I’m so sorry. All of our efforts seem to be amounting to naught.
I will not waiver Mother. There must be a way.
“Louis, you shall take Elder Feather Foot down the Ohio to my sacred towns. You shall be accompanied by select warriors. Feather Foot, providing you behaved yourself, will then release you to serve the giant black warrior T.T. Redbone in defense of AllPeople Town. Do you agree to this?”
“Yes, yes, yes thank you, Angel!”
Three-Rivers turned to Feather Foot. “Elder, this man shall guide you and your best guide and two best warriors down the Ohio to Three-Rivers’ Town and AllPeople Town. I would like you to instruct there in the Seven Aspects of Beginning. There dwells an elder of Sunset, of the un-cropped hair Natural People known as Dine.’ You will enjoy your time with him. I want the Longhouse People to keep in contact with AllPeople Town. The elders of that town alone, on Mother Earth, have the means of contacting me.”
Feather Foot seemed honored but frightened, “As you desire, Three-Rivers. You remain the One Prophet.”
He then looked down upon the Englishman as Gerald unbound him. The squirrel was besides himself. “Sheeee, boy. Dis one naaastay job. White homeless dudes gotz ta be da smelliest so-en-sos dey is, boy. Ya owes me a bottle a Crown Royale en a fifth a Hennessy!”
“Yes, Gerald, your olfactory suffering shall be compensated with adequate booze.”
He then looked into the watery eyes of the Whiteman. “Well Whiteman what can you do for me?”
“Ship’s carpenter—impressed—and smith by trade. The name’s Bawdry Moore.”
“What kind of Smith? Can you make steel knives and guns and war-hats?”
“Yes, was apprenticed at Southwick Fair; make a fare cutlass en cast blunderbuss—beat out a fine buckler as well.”
The man was terrified and sweating profusely.
His suffering touches my inner place like a pebble dropped in a pond.
“Bawdry Moore, you shall stay with the Seneca and make for them steel war things.”
He then switched to his native tongue, “War-chiefs, this Whiteman shall stay at Big-Hill-Town and fashion knives and thunder-sticks of shimmering steel and black iron. Assign him a craft house.”
