Eric Flint: Grantville Gazette Volume XI

"First mate, detail seven men to join us in the longboat. All fully armed, muskets and cutlasses, if you please. Heyndrick, kindly bring your shotgun. Come along, Vogel."

Some minutes later, they were past the breakers, in water they could wade in. David had decided not to land until he had seen the reception committee. They waited, sure that they were under observation, but saw nothing but the lapping of the waves on the beach, the wheeling of the birds in the sky, and the caress of the wind on the branches of the woods beyond.

The gulls cried overhead, like lost souls, and still the Dutchmen waited for the Indians to reveal themselves. David pointed out a particularly large bird to his cousin. "Heyndrick, bring that fowl down." Heyndrick, readied his shotgun, and waited for the gull to fly near. He fired, and the hapless bird fell to the beach below. The crewmen cheered, and an answering cry came from some riverside weeds.

The Indians rose, with broken stalks littering their long hair. They waved their arms, and shouted something. The sailors gripped their weapons with white-knuckled hands.

"What are they saying?" David asked Vogel.

Vogel grinned. "They applaud our Heyndrick's prowess as a hunter." At this, the boat party gave its own cheer, and relaxed a bit.

David held up his hand to quiet them. "Tell the Indians to come down to the beach."

Vogel cupped his hands, and shouted this invitation. The Indians conversed among themselves, and then answered. "They say to come ashore."

"Hah! It will be a fine day in Hell before I do that. Tell them the tide is too low now, we will visit them at high tide tomorrow morning."

At dawn, David transferred to the Eikhoorn, and had it sail close to the fort, into waters a fathom or two deep. He had Vogel urge the Indians to come to him. "Tell them we have a fine present for one who comes to us."

One fidgeted, and then walked slowly toward them, hands open. He stood on the strand for a moment, watching them. Then he swam out, coming alongside. "I am Temakwei – the Beaver. Because I am a good swimmer. What do you have for me?"

The crew threw down a rope to him, and he climbed up. David handed him a blouse and breeches. Temakwei held each up, and compared it to what David and his shipmates were wearing. At last he laughed, and pulled them on.

David held up a bottle. "Perhaps you'd care for some schnapps?"

"So Temakwei, why did your people slay mine?"

"Your sakima Hosset put a metal shield on the gate of your village. It was small, but very beautiful. It showed a great golden panther with the sky behind it. It walked on two feet like a man, and carried a white knife in one paw, and seven white arrows in another."

"He means a lion, not a panther. And a sword, not a knife," said Heyndrick. David shushed him.

"One of our chiefs, Taminy, thought that it was a great waste that this pretty thing sit on a gate. So he borrowed it to make a tobacco pipe, so we could smoke it together and honor the peace between our people."

Hendrick reinterpreted this statement. "Stole it, he means."

David sighed. "The Indians don't have much of a property concept. Stealing isn't a crime, so far as they're concerned. It is a chance to demonstrate that they are cleverer than you. If you don't like it, steal it back."

"Your Hosset said many bad words to us. He told us we had taken a… I don't know the words."

"Coat of arms?"

"That sounds right. A 'Koh-Tah-Ahms' of the Dutch people. He told us that this was a terrible insult to your chief of chiefs, and to your Manitou, your great spirit. That the thief must be punished.

"That was when we realized that we had committed a great wrong. Clearly, the 'Koh-Tah-Ahms' was strong medicine. To take it away was to hurt the Dutch people, our friends.

"So, the next day, we brought the head of Taminy to your Hosset."

Heyndrick's eyes widened. He started to speak, but David raised a finger in admonition, and Heyndrick subsided.

"Your chief told us that he didn't mean for us to kill Taminy, only to make him bring back the spirit-shield, and apologize. Still, he was pleased that we had punished Taminy, and he sent us home with pleasant words. But the brothers and sons of Taminy were angry that Taminy was dead. And the sister-sons of Taminy were angry, too. They waited and waited, but Hosset did not send them any wampum to atone for the death of Taminy.

"It was an insult not only to Taminy's kin, but to his entire clan."

"And then what?"

Temakwei fidgeted. "They did what they must. They wiped out the dishonor in blood."

David and Heyndrick watched Temakwei jump off the Eikhoorn, and swim back to shore. They couldn't see any other Indians, but they knew there had to be some there.

"So much blood spilled, over a stupid piece of tin," David said. "I hesitate to waste more."

Heyndrick protested. "But surely you can't let the Indians think that they can get away with pillaging our colonies."

"That's true. But we could go on playing tit-for-tat, indefinitely. Like Italian families with a vendetta. And we aren't going to make a profit that way.

"So we need to be conciliatory, but at the same time, show we are strong. Temakwei is carrying our message to the chiefs. When they come, we will give them a demonstration of the power of our cannon, it will seem pretty strong magic to them, I think. Then we will offer them presents, propose a peace pact, and pass around the pipe."

Heyndrick looked skeptical. "You think that will solve everything?"

"No. We must forgive, but not forget. We must be friendly, but always on guard. They will trade with the strong, but prey upon the weak.

"In which regard, to be blunt, they aren't very different from us."

Grantville, Winter Break, 1632

Maria had actually welcomed the coming of winter. It gave her the chance to catch up on her pleasure reading. In particular, she was finally able to tackle Elva's book on woman artists.

Her friend Prudentia's mother, Artemisia, was in it, of course. And Maria was pleased to see that the book mentioned the work of Clara Peeters, a Flemish still-life specialist, and Judith Leyster, the portraitist from Haarlem.

But what truly caught Maria's attention was the description of two other artists. One was Rachel Ruysch of Amsterdam. Her father was Anthony Frederick Ruysch, a professor of anatomy and botany. Much like Maria's father. And apparently, he passed on some of his scientific knowledge to her, because the book said, "Ruysch brought a thorough knowledge of botany and zoology to her work."

Maria also thought much about Maria Sibylla Merian. She had come to art by the more usual path, being the daughter of an engraver and the stepdaughter of a flower painter. Merian had published her first book, a collection of flower engravings, when she was only twenty three – younger than Maria. But Merian's great passion was to understand and depict the life cycles of insects, especially moths and butterflies.

In 1699, Merian actually traveled to fabulous Surinam, in South America, on what the Americans would call a "government grant." The result was her masterpiece, Metamorphosis Insectorum Surinamensium.

"Lolly, about the Ring of Fire. I know that it has already changed history. Gustavus Adolphus doesn't die at the battle of Lutzen, and all that. What happens to the people who would have been born after the Ring of Fire? Are they still destined to come into the world?"

"It depends on when and where they were born," Lolly replied. "The effect of the Ring of Fire diffuses out, from Grantville. It couldn't affect the New World, say, until a ship crossed the Atlantic with the news. But it doesn't take much to change who is born. A soldier leaves his mistress a day earlier than in the old time line. A couple fails to meet, and the two marry other people. A person's father or mother dies earlier than in the old time line, because an army takes a different path, or a plague ship comes to a different port."