David C. McLavic - 41. Chapter 41

Several weeks passed before the Indians returned. This time the four men had the Chief and a young boy with them. The boy looked about Bobby’s age. Bobby must have been on his way to the cabin; as the Indians entered my cabin, Bobby was the last to enter. I looked at him, giving a sigh of relief.

I watched as Bobby talked to the men, Bobby looked at me and mouthed the word ‘cookie’ pretending to drink. I put the kettle on for tea, Bobby got the cookies and all I saw was smiles on the faces of the Indians.

When they were finished eating and drinking they all left except the young boy. It seems the boy’s family died and he was alone.

The chief decided he was to live with me, the objective was to learn my language. Bobby was smiling, as he said,

“Now you can learn their language.”

The boy stayed with me until late spring. During this time he learned some basics as I learned some basics in his language. By the time he was to go home, he decided he wanted to stay. Now that was a problem, as I had no intention of adopting anyone to stay with me. Bobby visited enough times for me to converse in English and there always was the Lodge if I needed more company. I shouldn't have had to worry, the Chief came and took him home. I told him he could come and visit anytime. That seemed to be accepted.

Three weeks went by, the weather was warming up and I was out gathering broken branches, mushrooms and wild flowers. I found one flower that when boiled in water made a passable tea. As I was heading to my cabin, I noticed someone sitting on the small porch. It was the Indian boy.

I approached him as I did often with Bobby, ready to give him a hug. He smiled when he realized I wasn’t going to be angry. The result, he stayed with me for two weeks and then with a hug he left. That was the first hug he gave me and I knew Bobby had a hand in that. This became a routine that lasted all summer and in the fall. Only winter kept him away.

When I told Bobby he said, “You have been accepted by the Indians and they consider you a friend. You should expect their visits often.”

Bobby was right, they would pop up anytime. It was the same, tea and cookies. With Bobby’s help and the Indian young man, I had learned enough to hold a simple conversation with them. My language was a mix of signing interspersed with the few Indian words I knew. Bobby had helped me to learn a little of their language and how to use sign language.

There was one plant that was good for tea. The Indians showed me the plant and when I told Dad, he laughed.

“Uncle Joe was wondering when you would find it. Now I can tell him.”

Dad told me the name of the plant, Sassafras. He said the root of the plant makes a nice tea as well as the leaves.

So now with Bobby’s help we went looking for the plant. I thought it would be a small plant like a vegetable, it isn’t. It is the root of a small tree. Now I wasn’t so sure if I could use it. I needed Uncle Joe.

As it turned out the Indians showed me how to take a few roots and to chew the leaves. I did try to make tea from the leaves. It was okay but the root gave a stronger tea. Now I picked some of the leaves, let them dry and stored them for tea. I would have liked to use the roots to taste the difference but until Uncle Joe talked to the trees, I’ll stick to the leaves.

I kept busy, picking up dead wood that had fallen on the ground, shopping and checking on mail, monitoring the out house and best of all, I started to design my outdoor refrigerator. Bobby was becoming a good friend. He helped to gather firewood, he brought eggs and sometimes butter fromhome. He said his mother said they were gifts thanking me for keeping Bobby out of trouble.