Chapter 12 Po-No-Kah: An Indian Tale of Long Ago by Mary Mapes Dodge
SHOWING HOW THE BAG OF POTATOES CAME BACK AGAIN
Farmer Hedden was busily at work in the fields, looking ten years older than on that sunny day, nearly a year before, when he had shouted a laughing "good-bye" to Tom and the little ones.
Bessie was trudging alone from school, wondering why the birds sang less sweetly than they did the May before, and wishing that the noble dog that bounded by her side looked a little more like the first Bouncer.
Mrs. Hedden sat with her brother in the lonely cottage, talking on the old, old theme; the memory of that terrible night had never left her heart.
"No, no, Robert," she said at length, in reply to some appeal from her brother, "we must not go. I know it would be better for us to sell out and go to Philadelphia. But it cannot be; we must never leave this spot."
"Surely, Betsy," urged her brother, "you cannot be so wild as to suppose—"
"No!" she interrupted, "I never dare even hope for that now. I know my lost darlings are not in this world, and yet—and yet why not hope? why not think that perhaps—"
A shadow fell upon the threshold. What wonder that the mother sprang forward with a cry of joy! What wonder that Farmer Hedden, looking from the field, came bounding toward the house! Po-no-kah was there—Po-no-kah and little Kitty!
Laughing,—crying,—clasping her dear Kitty frantically to her heart, then gazing at her at arms' length, Mrs. Hedden raised her eyes to the Indian, and gasped faintly—
"Rudolph? the boy—is he—"
She could say no more.
"Yes—boy all good," answered Po-no-kah, eagerly, "white man say break heart see two—he here."
Just then Farmer Hedden, Tom Hennessy, and Rudolph rushed in.
Oh, what a meeting that was! And Bessie, too, was there before they knew it. Such laughter—such tears—such shouts of rejoicing had never been known in the Hedden cottage before!
Soon the barking of a dog was heard. Rudolph sprang from his father's arms:
"Oh, it's Bouncer!" he cried; "let me see him. Here, Bouncer!"
Bouncer indeed came leaping in at the call, but it was not the Bouncer, though it was a great, shaggy fellow, worthy of the name.
Rudolph started back; the dog, too, eyed him with a suspicious look.
"That isn't Bouncer! Where is he, mother?" exclaimed the poor boy, looking up with a bewildered glance.
Po-no-kah slunk aside.
"Do tell me where Bouncer is," he repeated,
"We are all here but him. Here, Bouncer! Bouncer!" and he ran to the door.
Bessie wound her arms about his neck.
"Rudolph, darling," she sobbed, "don't cry. Bouncer was killed on that day. He saved my life, Rudolph—"
"Bouncer dead!" screamed the boy.
Just then the new dog, seeing Bessie and her brother so close together, felt that he had a right there, too. With many a frantic leap and bound he endeavored to draw Rudolph's attention, until, finally, the tearful eyes of the boy were turned upon him. Then, if ever a dog tried to do his best, that fellow did. He sprang into the air, barked, tumbled, leaped, whined, wagged his tail till it almost spun, and, finally, licked Rudolph in the face until the chubby cheeks shook with laughter.
All this time Tom's Indian dress had scarcely been noticed. At last Mrs. Hedden, grasping both his hands, exclaimed:
"Why, what in the world have you been doing with yourself? I knew you, though, the moment you came in. Oh, Tom, how you have suffered!"
Tom tried to answer her; but somehow his great faithful heart was overflowing, and he could only look at her with a tearful smile.
"That's nothing," he said at length. "It's all ended well, anyhow. But a fellow can't help thinking of his own folks, dead and gone, when he sees such a meeting as this."
Mr. Hedden, who had been talking with Po-no-kah, walked over to Tom and placed his hand upon his shoulder.
"We are your folks now, my faithful fellow. God bless you! I can never repay what I owe you. Remember, our home is yours from this hour. I shall take no denial."
"Good!" exclaimed Bessie, clapping her hands; "now I shall have two brothers!"
Mrs. Hedden, who had listened to Po-no-kah's broken words, kissed and hugged Tom in her motherly way. "Dear me," she exclaimed, "how can we make you look like a white man again; and to think you have had chances to escape and would not leave the children," and then she hugged him again.
"Ugh!" grunted the Indian, nodding his head and holding up three fingers—to signify that Tom had had three chances.
"Pooh!" said the brave fellow, blushing through all the red paint, "I didn't have any at all until a month or so ago, and I'd got kind o' used to staying then."
Soon the red man turned to go. In vain the grateful parents tried to force their gifts upon him, and to persuade him to at least partake of some refreshment after his long journey.
He pointed to his hunting-pouch and his bow, as if to say that they would furnish all the the food he required, and nodded westward to show that he must be far on his way before sundown.
As Tom gave him a hearty hand-shake and the rest crowded about him, all, even to little Kitty, thanking him over and over again, he waved them off with dignity.
"No thank," he said; "Po-no-kah was cold and hungry; the father of the young pale-faces gave him food. He come tell white man Indian no forget."
Tom expressed anxiety lest their deliverer should suffer for his act when he returned to his tribe.
"Po-no-kah no fraid" answered the Indian grimly with almost a smile upon his face. And, nodding a farewell to little Kitty, he strode majestically away.
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A year later, the Heddens settled on a fine farm near Philadelphia. Rudolph and Kitty doubtless walked many a time by the old Hall where our Declaration of Independence was signed.
Bessie Hedden's sons when they grew up became pioneers themselves; and their names were Hennessy; so you see the maiden probably, in the course of time, changed her mind about having Tom for a brother.