Manna-hata

The farm was a middling one in Manna-hata, rich in corn, melons and livestock. Mornings passed with chores and baking bread, but then Anneke set off north along the Breede Wegh trail, passing stands of hickory and chestnut, coming at last to a red maple swamp where she spied an Indian girl singing beside a running brook. The girl signaled to Anneke and they sat all that afternoon singing songs and braiding Anneke’s hair with shells called wampum.