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Page 27
As they did so, they heard, or thought they heard, from the depths of
the forest, a clear voice crying, "France to the Rescue! France to the
Rescue!" and they marvelled greatly thereat.
CHAPTER XI
RENE'S RETURN
When R�n� de Veaux sank down in the bottom of the canoe, completely
exhausted by his labors at the paddle, and by the pain of Chitta's
arrow that quivered in his shoulder, he became almost unconscious, and
only dimly realized that they had escaped from their cruel pursuers.
Then he had a vague knowledge of being lifted from the canoe and borne
away, very gently, he knew nor cared not whither, and then he seemed to
fall asleep. When he again awoke to an interest in his surroundings,
he felt that a soft hand was smoothing his brow, and the air was cooled
by a delicious sweet-scented breeze. Opening his eyes, he saw bending
over him, and fanning him with a fan woven of fragrant grasses,
Has-se's beautiful sister Nethla.
As he attempted to rise she gently restrained him, and bidding him lie
still for a moment, she left the lodge. Directly afterwards she
returned, accompanied by Has-se, whose face was radiant with joy at
seeing his friend once more, and finding him so much better than he had
dared hope.
The Indian lad told R�n� that those who came so promptly to their
rescue upon hearing his call had stopped for a minute upon reaching
them to learn who their pursuers were, and how many there were of them.
Cat-sha and Chitta had taken instant advantage of this delay to paddle
swiftly up-stream and disappear in the depths of the great swamp, where
it was impossible to track them, and so had escaped.
The fortunate meeting between the boys and their friends was owing to a
scarcity of provisions among Micco's followers, which had obliged them
to remain in camp for two days, while the hunters went in pursuit of
game to replenish the larder.
The next evening, thanks to the wonderful healing properties of the
herbs applied by Nethla to his wound, R�n� was able to recline on a
soft couch of furs in front of the chief's lodge, near a great fire,
and enjoy with the rest the feast of venison, wild turkey, and bear's
meat that had been prepared to celebrate the successful return of the
hunters.
As he lay there, thoroughly enjoying the feast and the novelty of the
scene, Has-se came to him and placed in his hand the Flamingo Feather
that had been cut from his hair on the day before by Chitta's arrow.
As he did so he said, "This I give to thee, Ta-lah-lo-ko, as a token of
friendship forever between us, and for thee to keep in memory of this
day. It is a token such as may only be exchanged between chiefs or the
sons of chiefs; and if at any time it shall be sent to me or any of my
people in thy name, whatever request comes with it from thee must be
granted even at the cost of life. Keep the emblem hidden, and wear it
not, for that may only be done by the chiefs of my tribe, or those who
are sons of chiefs."
As he took the precious feather, and thanked Has-se warmly for the gift
and its assurance of friendship, R�n� noted with surprise that attached
to it was a slender gold chain fastening a golden pin of strange and
exquisite make. It was by these that the feather had been confined in
Has-se's hair, and it was the cutting of this chain by Chitta's arrow
that had loosened it.
In answer to R�n�'s inquiries Has-se explained that these ornaments
came from a distant country in the direction of the setting sun, where
gold was like the sands on the shores of the great salt waters, and
whence they had reached his tribe through the hands of many traders.[1]
At sunrise on the following morning the journey towards the land of the
Alachuas was resumed, and R�n� occupied with Nethla a canoe that was
paddled by Has-se and Yah-chi-la-ne (the Eagle), Nethla's young warrior
husband. The stream down which they floated soon left the great swamp
and widened into a broad river, the high banks of which were covered
with the most luxuriant vegetation and beautiful flowers. The Indians
called it Withlacoochee, but the Spaniards afterwards changed its name
to San Juanita (pronounced San Wawneeta), or Little St. John, from
which in these days it has come to be known as the Suwanee.
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