New York - The Novel

waiting for him to come back, but he didn’t. And by and by I began to wonder if he was all right. There are plenty of bearsin the woods, though you’d expect to hear a shout if one of them attacked him. But when he still didn’t come, I got up, and I started to move along the riverbank after him. I went very carefully, and I never made a sound. But there was no sign of him. I didn’t want to call out, so I just went on. And I must have gone nearly half a mile when I did see him.
    He was sitting on a little patch of grass by the water, under the stars. He had his knees drawn up with his back bent, and his shoulders hunched over his knees. And he was weeping. His whole body was shaking, and he was almost choking. I never saw a man weep so. And I daren’t go forward, but I didn’t like to leave him there. So I stopped there awhile, and he went on weeping as if his heart would break. I was there a long time, and the breeze grew a little stronger, but he never noticed. And then after a while the breeze died, and there was just a big silence under the stars. And he was a little quieter. And not wanting him to find me there, I stole away.
    When I got back to the fire, I tried to sleep, but I kept listening as well, on account of him. And it was nearly dawn when he came back.

    We went for days up that great Hudson River, and we saw the big Mohawk villages with their wooden houses and palisades. And the Boss bought a great quantity of furs. And when we returned, and I ran in to see Naomi, she gave me a curious smile. Then she told me that she was expecting a child, which caused me greatly to rejoice. And soon after the idea came to me that if it was a boy, I should call him Hudson, on account of my journey at that time.
    But Naomi also told me the Mistress and Clara had quarreled that morning and that Miss Clara had run out of the house. “The Mistress is in a black mood,” she said.
    I was going by the parlor door just after the Boss came in. The door was open, and I could hear the Boss telling the Mistress about the pelts we bought from the Mohawks, but she didn’t seem to be saying anything.
    “Where’s Clara?” he asked.
    “Out,” she answered. Then after a little pause: “I suppose you spent time with your other Indian friends too.”
    “Only briefly,” he replied. “They had no furs.”
    The Mistress didn’t respond.
    “By the way,” he said, “Pale Feather is dead.”
    I’d been listening by the door a little while now, and was thinking I’d better move away, when I heard the Mistress’s voice.
    “Why tell me?” she said. “What’s a stinking Indian more or less?”
    The Boss was silent for a moment after she said that. When he answered her, his voice was quiet.
    “You are cruel,” he said. “Her mother was a better woman than you.” Then I heard him starting to walk out of the room, and I got away quick.
    And after that time, it seemed to me, there was a coldness between him and the Mistress, as if something had died.

    I often thought about those words after that, and I reckoned I understood what they must mean. But I didn’t care too much. For now I had my own family to think about.
    With every year that went by, I came to realize my good fortune in being married to Naomi. She would do all her work about the house for the Mistress, even when she was big with child, but she never complained. I knew how much she had to do and helped her all I could. At the end of the day, she always had a smile for me. We shared everything, and grew to have such an affection between us that, as the years went by, I could hardly imagine what it had been like to live without her.
    My little Hudson was the most lively little baby you ever saw. I delighted to play with that child, and the Boss would come and play with him too. I believe for a time Hudson thought the Boss was his grandfather or something. When he was two years old, Naomi had another child, a girl; but that baby wasn’t strong, and she died. Two years later, though, we had another little girl, and we named her Martha. She had a round face like her mother, and as she grew up, I could see she had her mother’s nature.
    In no time, it seemed, Hudson was a boy of five. He could run and scuttle about. The Boss said he couldn’t catch him. And Naomi said Hudson looked just like me. I used to put him on my shoulders and take him with me on my errands around the town. But always, if there was time, I would take him down to the waterside, for