Legend upon the Cane Read Online Free PDF Page A

commodity. He lit the pipe and took a
couple of long puffs on it. He exhaled in satisfaction, and then
carefully handed the pipe across the fire over to St. Denis. He
motioned for him to smoke it as well. St. Denis did as he was
shown. Natchitos could see that he was no stranger to sharing a
pipe in the company of friends. St. Denis knew he should wait for
Natchitos to speak first. Buffalo Tamer waited patiently for his
time to translate.
    After taking another smoke
from the calumet, Natchitos finally spoke, “When I awoke this
morning, I saw a dove fly over the rising sun. A dove is always a
sign of something new. Now I know why I saw this dove.” Buffalo
Tamer spoke the exact words to St. Denis in his
language.
    “ I thank you for
your generosity, Natchitos,” replied St. Denis. “I am humbled by
the kindness and hospitality by you and all the people of your
tribe. But I am sure you are wondering why we have come
here.”
    “ That is why I
have asked you here,” Natchitos said in return. “Let this smoke
signify a peace between you and me. I know you will honor this
peace. For I feel that your heart is a good one. Now, what is it
that you wish?”
    St. Denis responded, “I am a
man of peace, and for your offering, I am grateful. I am a
wanderer, an explorer. I like to see new lands and new people. I
have come to learn from your people. We do not wish to take over
your lands and we do not wish to overthrow you. We wish to
establish relationships with the tribes all along the river so
trade can be promoted. We have goods that we can bring you and
skills that we can teach that will help you with your crops and
bring prosperity and good life to your people.”
    Natchitos thought for a
moment, and then said, “A wanderer can be a good thing. I know what
it means to go and see new places. That is how we have come to live
here alongside the river.” St. Denis listened to him intently.
“What is it that you wish to learn?
    “ I would like to
learn to speak your language,” St. Denis answered. “I feel if my
communication with you and your people is better, the more progress
we can make. It will also help me in understanding and respecting
your ways. With your permission, my men can show your people new
ways to cultivate land and irrigate your crops. For me, all I wish
is to learn your ways, and to learn your language.” St. Denis
produced a leather pouch of his own from a satchel he had beside
him. “With your permission, I would like to honor you with this
gift as my thanks to you.”
    Natchitos looked intrigued.
He watched as St. Denis pulled open a button clasp on each end of
the pouch. He opened it and revealed a rare and hand-crafted, shiny
new flintlock pistol. It was made of polished brown wood and silver
steel. The handle was carved with an intricate design in the wood
and a rounded, gold tip on the end. The pouch also contained some
ammunition made specifically for the pistol and gunpowder wrapped
tightly. Natchitos and Buffalo Tamer marveled at the sight. St.
Denis was delighted at their curiosity. He handed it over to the
chief and let him examine it thoroughly. “It has never been fired,”
he said. “And, it is yours as a token of my gratitude.”
    A small grin appeared on the
chief’s face. “I have seen the white man’s rifle, but never have I
seen one so small!” He set the pistol down and looked at St. Denis.
“I accept your peace. Our men shall work together. And, I
personally will help you with our words.”
     
    As the days went
on, the French and the Indians began to get accustomed to
one another. They shared meals,
they fished in the river, and even played games with rocks and
arrows. But soon the rest and relaxation and blending of cultures
was put aside, for there was work to be done. The Indians were in a
crucial time of the harvest, and welcomed the extra help in their
small corn and bean fields. The harvest was meager compared to
years past, but enough to see them through the