New York_ The Novel - Edward Rutherfurd [194]
Frank wanted to say something, but he did not know what. He waited a little. Then he thought he had an inspiration.
“How many gallons of water go over it in a minute?”
His father didn’t answer at first. “I don’t know, son,” he said finally. His voice sounded disappointed. Frank lowered his head. Then he felt his father’s hand on his shoulder. “Just listen to it, Frank,” he said.
Frank listened. He’d been listening for a little while when he noticed the Indian girl. She was about his own age, he reckoned, and she was staring toward them. Perhaps she was looking at him. He wasn’t sure.
Frank wasn’t much interested in girls, but there was something about the Indian girl that made him glance at her again. She was small, but neatly made. He guessed she was pretty. And she was still staring in his direction, as if something interested her.
“Pa,” said Frank, “that Indian girl is staring at us.”
His father shrugged. “We could go down to the river, if you like,” his father said, “and look up at the falls from below. There’s a path. Takes a while, of course, but they say it’s worth it.”
“All right,” said Frank.
Then Frank saw that the Indian girl was coming toward them. She moved with such a light step, she seemed almost to float over the ground. His father saw too and stopped to look at her.
Frank knew a bit about Indians. When the War of 1812 had come, a great leader called Tecumseh had persuaded a lot of them to fight for the British. Here in Mohawk Country, many of the local Indians had joined him, which had been a big mistake. Tecumseh had been killed, and they’d lost out badly. But there were still plenty of Mohawks around these parts. He supposed that’s what she must be.
The other people on the ledge were watching the Indian girl and smiling. Nobody seemed to mind her coming up to them like that. She was such a pretty little thing.
Frank had thought the girl was looking at him, but as she came close, he realized with a shade of disappointment that her eyes were focused, not upon him, but his father. She went right up to him and pointed at his waist.
“It’s my wampum belt she’s interested in,” his father said.
The girl seemed to want to touch it. Weston nodded, to let her know she could. She put her fingers on the wampum. Then she walked round his father, who obligingly lifted aside his coat so that she could see all of the belt. When she had done, she stood in front of his father, looking up at him.
She was wearing moccasins, but Frank could see that she had neat little feet. He also noticed that, although her skin was brown, her eyes were blue. His father noticed too.
“Look at her eyes, Frank. That means she’s got some white blood in her somewhere. You see that occasionally.” He addressed the girl. “Mohawk?”
She signed that she was not. “Lenape,” she said quietly.
“You know who the Lenape are, Frank?” said his father. “That’s what they call the Indians that used to live around Manhattan. You hardly see any now. What was left of them scattered, joined larger tribes, went west. There’s quite a few in Ohio, I believe. But one group stayed together and settled at the far end of Lake Erie. The Turtle clan, they’re called. There’s not a lot of them, and they don’t give trouble. Keep to themselves, mostly.”
“So her people were around when our family first came to Manhattan?”
“Probably.” He gazed down at her. “She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she?”
Frank didn’t answer, but then the girl turned and stared into his eyes, and he felt awkward, and looked away.
“She’s all right, I guess,” he said.
“You want my wampum belt, don’t you?” his father said to the girl. He used a calm, friendly voice, the same as when he was talking to the dog at home. “Well, you can’t have it.”
“Can she understand you, Pa?” asked Frank.
“No idea,” said his father. Then something caught his eye. “Hmm,” he said. “What’s that?” And he signed to the girl that he wanted to look at an object hanging round her neck. Frank could see that the girl didn’t want him to, but since his father had let her look at his belt, she couldn