Chapter 4
Mingo's journey with the two children was filled with happiness. He and his friend Wohali took them on horseback, traveling slowly and enjoying the Kentucky autumn weather. Rose and Ian had grown and flourished among Mingo's Cherokee relatives. Totsuhwa's care of the little white baby was thorough and loving. And Ian was treated like a member of Tekawitha's family. The farewell was difficult for all of them. But Mingo asssured the children that they could see their Cherokee friends any time they wished. In his heart he knew that it was unlikely that any of them would ever see the two white children again, but he hid that belief from Ian and Rose. He was determined that Ian have no more painful memories to haunt his dreams.
Ian was a serious little boy. He had his mother's dark hair and his father's bright blue eyes. Little Rose remained as her namesake, fair and blooming. As Mingo rode through the Kentucky forest with the little girl in his arms, he delighted in the feel of her soft warm body against his. She was a very happy little girl, and hummed to herself as she rode. The nearly two years of her life had been filled with loving attention from a large extended family group. Her life would forever be grounded in the love of those early years.
In the long hours of travel Mingo often allowed his mind to gaze into the future and see the little girl grown. She would be a lovely woman, and her family would be blessed. He saw light hair grown darker, as her parents' hair, and her blue eyes framed by long brown lashes. Her skin would retain the pink blush that suggested her name. She would not be tall, as her parents were not tall, but she would be shapely and her body would be strong. She would retain her happy nature and live her life in joy.
The journey was over too soon and the Barrie house welcomed the two new members. Wohali stayed in the forest camp and allowed Mingo to take the two children to their new home, knowing that the parting would be painful for his friend. As Mingo bent and kissed Ian, then Rose, he swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke loving words of pride and hope to his two little charges. Then he gripped Ronald's hand, gave the children one last loving look, and strode rapidly into the surrounding forest.
Wohali and Mingo rode back to Chota and arrived in half the time that the journey east had taken. Mingo immediately left again, alone, to accustom himself to the loss of the two children. He knew that he had done the right thing taking them to their aunt and uncle. He knew that he had fulfilled Alistair's last wish. But the pain of the parting was still raw, and he needed time to heal.
Five seasons passed until it was once again spring. Mingo decided to make the journey to see Ian and Rose, and leaving Chota one bright spring day he rode east with happy anticipation. He made the distance in less than a week and spent three days with the Barrie family. Ian and Charles, the Barrie's youngest, were very close and Ian had gained at least two inches in height and twenty pounds in weight. Rose was the family darling, and was an accomplished story teller and wag. She was nothing like her reticent parents or her stoic aunt and uncle. Mingo laughed at her gift of mimicry, and the little girl spent her waking hours entertaining her Cherokee friend.
In his mind Mingo delighted in called the little girl "Highland Rose". The name pleased him. It suited her so well, decended from the Scottish highlands, living in the Kentucky highlands. Together they walked in the spring sunshine. Rose filled her little fist with wildflowers which she poked into Mingo's long black braids. Mingo showed her the nesting birds and set her carefully in a blooming linden tree to smell the sweet white flowers. He climbed beside her and they sat in the tree for hours, gently rocking in the breeze. One afternoon Mingo took Ian and Rose fishing, and when the little girl fell into the stream after ignoring Mingo's stern warnings she laughed at his scolding until he had to join her. It was impossible to remain angry with so sunny a sprite.
The three days passed quickly and as Mingo stood on the porch and kissed Rose and hugged Ian his loving heart was singing with joy. The two children, so dearly loved by many in Chota, were also dearly loved by their adoptive family. Mingo knew that when he told his family everyone would be as happy as he. He swung into the saddle and lifted his hand in farewell. Rose blew him a kiss with her little pink hand and Mingo pretended to catch it, causing the child to giggle happily. His handsome face split into a wide grin, Mingo turned the horse and headed back to Chota.
Every spring thereafter Mingo visited the children. Faithfully for five years he rode through the forest springtime. Ian was now a strong lad of fourteen and Rose a bubbling child of eight. This year Taladu sent Ian a Cherokee bow and arrows. Tekawitha sent a pair of moccasins, using Taladu as a reluctant model. Atsila sent a beaded armband. For Rose, Tekawitha and Atsila sent a beautiful beaded dress, judging the size from Mingo's description. As was his wont, Mingo's mind painted images of the two children as he imagined them to be. His journey was swift and he arrived at the Barrie cabin just a little more than four days after leaving Chota.
It was early evening and the cabin was lit by firelight. The Barrie's recently acquired collie dog announced his arrival and Ronald Barrie opened the cabin door with his gun in his hand. Mingo's mind shot back to the first day he met Ronald Barrie, and the memory caused his lips to lift in a small smile. Relishing the memory, Mingo swung down from his horse and turned to climb the porch stairs. It was then that he fully looked at Ronald and saw a changed man.
His ruddy face bore a stubble of dark beard. His open shirt was stained and dirty. His eyes were shadowed, and a bolt of fear shot through Mingo's heart. His happy greeting died on his lips as he climbed the three steps onto the Barrie porch. His brown face was pale and his heart pounded as his Cherokee spirit alerted him to disaster. He swallowed and faced Ronald Barrie.
"Tell me, Ronald. It's Rose, isn't it?"
Ronald Barrie shook his head as though to shake away droplets of sweat, then raised his blue eyes to Mingo's. His voice sounded hollow, as though he was speaking into a wooden bucket. "She's gone." The words began to pour out of the stocky man's throat as though he had saved them and now they were all to be spent. "The lass wouldna abide by warnings. There was no fear in the bairn! She took it into her head to go awalking and we told her to stay away. We told her! Ian was the last. 'Don't go near the caves, Rosie.' But she did as she wanted, always. Bold she was, foolish. I don't know why..." The man's voice trailed away and his downcast eyes closed in pain. Mingo gripped his arms and shook him.
"Tell me! Tell me what happened to Rose!" Mingo's voice rose harshly as distress squeezed his heart.
"It was snakes, Mingo." Janet's voice was lifeless in the shadows of the porch. She had silently come to stand behind her husband, unnoticed by either man. "It started to rain, a light spring shower. I don't know why Rose went into the caves. She walked in the rain all the time. There were rattlesnakes in the caves. We warned her. We all warned her." Like her husband, Janet's voice trailed away and silence fell upon the Barrie porch.
A deep tremor passed through Mingo's body as he absorbed the words. His legs trembled and he was forced to sit on the porch steps to prevent collapsing. His hands gripped the edge of the wooden steps. Memories swirled through his mind: Rose in his arms, Rose in the linden tree, Rose picking wildflowers. The feel of her little hand in his. Her smile. Her infectious laugh. The sparkle of joyous life in her clear blue eyes. Moire dying in his bed. Alistair's last words. Ian's tears. Ian! Mingo's head snapped up and he pulled himself from the stairs to face Ronald and Janet.
"Where is Ian? Where's the boy?"
Neither Barrie acknowledged Mingo's question. They had retreated into the shadowy world of their grief. Mingo pushed by them and into the cabin. Inside he found James and Catherine but not Charles or Ian. They would be together. He walked unsteadily to James. "Where are Ian and Charles?" he demanded.
James' blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "They are at the caves. Ian went wild. We couldn't stop him. He took a stick of wood with him. He's gone back every day. He's killing snakes. Charles...Charles tries to keep him safe." James' head dropped onto his chest in sorrow.
Mingo dashed back to the porch. He gripped Ronald's arm and again shook the wounded Scot. "Where are the caves? Tell me quickly!"
Ronald Barrie pointed soundlessly to the northeast. Mingo leaped off the porch and ran northeast. After only a quarter of a mile he saw Charles sitting before the mouth of a limestone cave. Collapsed beside him was Ian. His heart in his throat, Mingo raced to Ian's side. Charles spread his arms protectively over his cousin's prone body.
"He asleep. Mingo! He's just asleep."
Mingo's strength drained from his body and he weakly sat beside the sleeping youth. After several minutes his breathing returned to normal and he glanced at Charles sitting silently beside Ian. Compassion and understanding shone in the boy's blue eyes. He nodded wordlessly, stood and walked
quietly toward his family's cabin leaving Mingo sitting vigilantly beside Ian. Ian spoke words of alarm in his sleep, the sound jarring in the quiet air. Mingo smoothed the boy's brown hair comfortingly and the dream passed.
The evening air was glowing in the pink of the sunset when Ian awoke to find Mingo sitting beside him. His indigo blue eyes filmed with sudden tears, Ian reached for Mingo's embrace. Together they grieved for all of their losses. Time hung suspended as their anguish poured from their hearts. The early stars were winking brightly when Ian pulled loose from Mingo's arms. With a last quivering sigh, the youth began to tell his story to the man that he trusted above all others.
"Mingo, I warned her. I did. So did Uncle. James had even shown her the snakes last summer. She hated snakes." Ian's voice quivered and he breathed deeply to steady it. Beside him Mingo reached a comforting hand to the boy's shoulder. "That's what hurts so much. I imagine what it was like. Little Rose screaming for help, and no one there. The snakes striking again and again. The fangs in her little legs. Her falling as she tried to get away and the snakes striking her body. I can't let it go. Mingo, I can see it happen in my mind. Over and over. In my sleep. When I'm awake. Oh why, why?" Ian buried his face in his hands as Mingo's arm encircled his shoulders.
In the beautiful spring twilight Mingo spoke to the trembling boy. "Ian, I can't answer you. I have lived more than two times your lifetime, and I don't understand why such terrible things happen. The Greeks blamed Pandora, remember? But son, the world is a dangerous place and we who travel here must deal with that fact. I have discovered one thing that may help you. You have a memory, Ian. And in those memores the people that we love are forever living. I don't believe the Rose's spirit is dead." Mingo swallowed the lump that threatened to close his throat as his eyes stung with quick tears. He pushed his memories from his mind and continued. "Even when we are gone from this earth, Rose's spirit lives on. Some believe that her spirit is with God. I have seen too much to call them fools. I like to think that she is in the air around us, which we breathe in and she becomes one with us. We carry her inside ourselves, Ian. Where we go, she goes. When we laugh, she laughs. When we delight in the spring sunlight, so does she. She sees the stars through our eyes. Ian? I love you. And so do your aunt and uncle, and your cousins. So do Tekawitha and Taladu. Come with me away from here and let your heart heal. Then when you return, you will be ready to live your life. And let Rose live through you."
Ian looked into Mingo's dark eyes. He nodded slightly and sighed. Mingo stood unsteadily, stiffened his spine and pulled Ian to his feet. Together they walked back to the Barrie cabin. They ate a small supper and Ian went to bed. Mingo explained his offer to the Barries and they agreed. Then Mingo asked to see Rose's grave. James rose and walked to the door. Mingo clenched his jaw and followed.
Fifty yards from the cabin's yard fence was a small enclosure. In the moonlight Mingo could see a mound of freshly turned earth and a smaller sunken area covered in wildflowers. James silently stood before the little gate, then turned and left the Cherokee alone. After several seconds Mingo opened the gate and walked silently to the new mound. In the blue moonlight he could see a bunch of wilted wild roses at the head of the mound. The mute tribute released all the bound grief and Mingo lay against the moist Kentucky earth and allowed the darkness to take him down.