CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT.
Moonlight sauntered through the camp carelessly at first with a blanketover her head after the manner of Indian women; but on approaching theoutskirts, nearest to the spot where Rushing River was concealed, shediscarded the blanket, sank into the grass like a genuine apparition,and disappeared. After creeping a short way, she ventured to give thethree hoots of the owl.
An Indian brave, whose eyes were directed sentimentally to the stars, asthough he were thinking of his lady-love--or buffalo steaks andmarrow-bones--cocked his ears and lowered his gaze to earth, but asnothing more was to be seen or heard, he raised his eyes and thoughtsagain to love--or marrow-bones.
Very different, as may be supposed, was the effect of those three hootsupon Rushing River, as he lay on the grass in perfect silence, listeningintently. On hearing the sounds, he sprang up as though an arrow hadpierced him, and for a few moments the furious glare of a baffled savagegleamed in his dark eyes, as he laid a hand on his tomahawk; but theaction was momentary, and in a short time the look passed away. It wassucceeded by a calm aspect and demeanour, which seemed to indicate a mandevoid of all feeling--good or bad.
"Skipping Rabbit," he said, taking the hand of the child in his, andpatting her head, "you are soon to be with your father--and withMoonlight. Rushing River goes back to his people. But the skipping onemust not move from this tree till some of her people come to fetch her.There is danger in moving--perfect safety in sitting still."
He moved as if about to go, but suddenly turned back and kissed thechild. Then he muttered something in a low tone to his companions, andstrode into the dark forest.
Umqua then advanced and gave the little one a tremendous hug. She wasevidently struggling to suppress her feelings, for she could hardlyspeak as she said--
"I--I _must_ go, dear child. Rushing River commands. Umqua has nochoice but to obey." She could say no more, but, after anotherprolonged hug, ran rapidly away.
Hitherto Eaglenose had stood motionless, looking on, with his armsfolded. Poor boy! he was engaged in the hardest fight that he had yetexperienced in his young life, for had he not for the first time found acongenial playmate--if we may venture to put it so--and was she notbeing torn from him just as he was beginning to understand her value?He had been trained, however, in a school where contempt of pain andsuffering was inculcated more sternly even than among the Spartans ofold.
"Skipping one," he said, in a low, stern voice, "Eaglenose must leaveyou, for his chief commands, but he will laugh and sing no more."
Even through her tears the skipping one could scarce forbear smiling atthe tone in which this was uttered. Fortunately, her face could not beseen.
"O yes, you will laugh and sing again," she said, "when your nose isbetter."
"No, that cannot be," returned the youth, who saw--indeed the childintended--nothing humorous in the remark. "No, I will never more laugh,or pull the string of the jumping-jack; but," he added, with suddenanimation, as a thought struck him, "Eaglenose will bring thejumping-jack to the camp of Bounding Bull, and put it in the hands ofthe skipping one, though his scalp should swing for it in the smoke ofher father's wigwam."
He stooped, took the little face between his hands, and kissed it onboth cheeks.
"Don't--don't leave me," said the child, beginning to whimper.
"The chief commands, and Eaglenose must obey," said the youth.
He gently unclasped the little hands, and silently glided into theforest.
Meanwhile Moonlight, utterly forgetting amid her anxieties thearrangement about Skipping Rabbit, sauntered back again through the camptill she reached the opposite extremity, which lay nearest to the willowswamp. The lines here were not guarded so carefully, because the natureof the ground rendered that precaution less needful. She thereforemanaged to pass the sentinels without much difficulty, and found, as shehad been told, that one of her father's horses was feeding near thewillow swamp. Its two fore-legs were fastened together to prevent itstraying, so that she caught it easily. Having provided herself with astrong supple twig, she cut the hobbles, vaulted lightly on the horse'sback, and went off at a smart gallop.
Moonlight did not quite agree with her mother as to the effect ofdisappointment on her lover. Although heaviness of heart might possiblyinduce him to ride slowly, she thought it much more likely thatexasperation of spirit would urge him to ride with reckless fury.Therefore she plied her switch vigorously, and, the light increasing asshe came to more open ground, she was able to speed swiftly over a widestretch of country, with which she had been familiar from childhood, inthe hope of intercepting the Blackfoot chief.
After a couple of hours' hard riding, she came to a narrow pass throughwhich she knew her lover must needs go if he wished to return home bythe same path that had led him to the camp of his enemy. Jumpingquickly from her steed, she went down on her knees and examined thetrack. A sigh of relief escaped her, for it was evident that no one hadpassed there that day towards the west. There was just a barepossibility, however, that the chief had taken another route homeward,but Moonlight tried hard to shut her eyes to that fact, and, beingsanguine of temperament she succeeded.
Retiring into a thicket, she tied her horse to a tree, and then returnedto watch the track.
While seated there on a fallen tree, thinking with much satisfaction ofsome of her recent adventures, she suddenly conceived a little plot,which was more consistent with the character of Skipping Rabbit thanherself, and rose at once to put it into execution. With a knife whichshe carried in her girdle she cut and broke down the underwood at theside of the track, and tramped about so as to make a great manyfootmarks. Then, between that point and the thicket where her steed wasconcealed, she walked to and fro several times, cutting and breaking thebranches as she went, so as to make a wide trail, and suggest the ideaof a hand-to-hand conflict having taken place there. She was enabled tomake these arrangements all the more easily that the moon was by thattime shining brightly, and revealing objects almost as clearly as if ithad been noonday.
Returning to the pass, she took off the kerchief with which she usuallybound up her luxuriant brown hair, and placed it in the middle of thetrack, with her knife lying beside it. Having laid this wicked littletrap to her satisfaction, she retired to a knoll close at hand, fromwhich she could see her kerchief and knife on the one hand and her horseon the other. Then she concealed herself behind the trunk of a tree.
Now it chanced at that very time that four of the young braves ofBounding Bull's camp, who had been sent out to hunt were returning homeladen with venison, and they happened to cross the trail of Moonlight ata considerable distance from the pass just mentioned. Few things escapethe notice of the red men of the west. On seeing the trail, they flungdown their loads, examined the prints of the hoofs, rose up, glared ateach other, and then ejaculated "Hough!" "Ho!" "Hi!" "Hee!"respectively. After giving vent to these humorous observations, theyfixed the fresh meat in the forks of a tree, and, bending forward,followed up the trail like bloodhounds.
Thus it happened that at the very time when Moonlight was preparing herpractical joke, or surprise, for Rushing River, these four young braveswere looking on with inexpressible astonishment, and preparing somethingwhich would indeed be a surprise, but certainly no joke, to herself andto all who might chance to appear upon the scene. With mouths open andeyes stretched to the utmost, these Bounding Bullers--if we may so callthem--lay concealed behind a neighbouring mound, and watched thewatcher.
Their patience was not put to a severe test. Ere long a distant soundwas heard. As it drew near it became distinctly like the patteringsound of galloping steeds. The heart of Moonlight beat high, as shedrew closer into the shelter of the tree and clasped her hands. So didthe hearts of the Bounding Bullers, as they drew closer under the browof the mound, and fitted arrows to their bows.
Moonlight was right in her estimate of the effect of disappointment onher lover. He was
evidently letting off superfluous steam through thesafety-valve of a furious pace. Presently the cavalcade came sweepinginto the pass, and went crashing through it--Rushing River, of course,in advance.
No cannon ball was ever stopped more effectually by mountain orprecipice than was our Indian chief's career by Moonlight's kerchief andknife. He reined in with such force as to throw his steed on itshaunches, like the equestrian statue of Peter the Great; but, unlike thestatuesque animal, Rushing River's horse came back to the position ofall-fours, and stood transfixed and trembling. Vaulting off, the chiefran to the kerchief, and picked it up. Then he and Eaglenose examinedit and the knife carefully, after which they turned to the track throughthe bushes. But here caution became necessary. There might be anambuscade. With tomahawk in one hand, and scalping-knife in the other,the chief advanced slowly, step by step, gazing with quick intensityright and left as he went. Eaglenose followed, similarly armed, andeven more intensely watchful. Umqua brought up the rear, unarmed, it istrue, but with her ten fingers curved and claw-like, as if in readinessfor the visage of any possible assailant, for the old woman was strongand pugnacious as well as kindly and intellectual.
All this was what some people call "nuts" to Moonlight. It was equallyso to the Bounding Bullers, who, although mightily taken by surprise,were fully alive to the fact that here were two men and two women oftheir hated Blackfoot foes completely at their mercy. They had only totwang their bowstrings and the death-yells of the men would instantlyresound in the forest. But burning curiosity as to what it could allmean, and an intense desire to see the play out, restrained them.
Soon Rushing River came upon the tied-up horse, and of courseastonishment became intensified, for in all his varied experience ofsavage warfare he had never seen the evidence of a deadly skirmishterminate in a peacefully tied-up horse.
While he and his companions were still bending cautiously forward andpeering around, the hoot of an owl was heard in the air. Eaglenoselooked up with inquiring gaze, but his chief's more practised ear atonce understood it. He stood erect, stuck his weapons into his belt,and, with a look of great satisfaction, repeated the cry.
Moonlight responded, and at once ran down to him with a merry laugh. Ofcourse there was a good deal of greeting and gratulation, for evenIndians become demonstrative at times, and Moonlight had much ofimportance to tell.
But now an unforeseen difficulty came in the way of the bloody-mindedBullers. In the group which had been formed by the friendly evolutionsof their foes, the women chanced to have placed themselves exactlybetween them and the men, thus rendering it difficult to shoot thelatter without great risk of injury, if not death, to the former, fornone of them felt sufficiently expert to emulate William Tell.
In these circumstances it occurred to them, being courageous braves,that four men were more than a match for two, and that therefore itwould be safer and equally effective to make a united rush, and braintheir enemies as they stood.
No sooner conceived than acted on. Dispensing with the usual yell onthis occasion, they drew their knives and tomahawks, and made atremendous rush. But they had reckoned too confidently, and sufferedthe inevitable disgrace of bafflement that awaits those who underratethe powers of women. So sudden was the onset that Rushing River had nottime to draw and properly use his weapons, but old Umqua, with the speedof light, flung herself on hands and knees in front of the leadingBuller, who plunged over her, and drove his head against a tree withsuch force that he remained there prone and motionless. Thus the chiefwas so far ready with his tomahawk that a hastily-delivered blow sentthe flat of it down on the skull of the succeeding savage, and, insporting language, dropped him. Thus only two opponents were left, ofwhom Eaglenose choked one and his chief felled the other.
In ordinary circumstances the victors would first have stabbed and thenscalped their foes, but we have pointed out that the spirit of our chiefhad been changed. He warned Eaglenose not to kill. With his assistanceand that of the women, he bound the conquered braves, and laid them inthe middle of the track, so that no one could pass that way withoutseeing them. Then, addressing the one who seemed to be least stunned,he said--
"Rushing River is no longer at war with Bounding Bull. He will not slayand scalp his young men; but the young men have been hasty, and mustsuffer for it. When your friends find you and set you free, tell themthat it was Rushing River who brought Skipping Rabbit to her father andleft her near the camp."
"If Rushing River is no longer at war with Bounding Bull," returned thefallen savage sulkily, "how comes it that we have crossed the trail of awar-party of Blackfeet on their way to the block-house of thepale-face?"
This question roused both surprise and concern in the Blackfoot chief,but his features betrayed no emotion of any kind, and the only reply hecondescended to make was a recommendation to the youth to remember whathe had been told.
When, however, he had left them and got out of hearing, he halted andsaid--
"Moonlight has travelled in the region of her father's fort since shewas a little child. Will she guide me to it by the shortest road sheknows!"
The girl of course readily agreed, and, in a few minutes, diverging fromthe pass, went off in another direction where the ground permitted oftheir advancing at a swift gallop.
We must turn now to another part of those western wilds, not far fromthe little hut or fortress named.
In a secluded dell between two spurs of the great mountain range, acouncil of war was held on the day of which we write by a party ofBlackfoot Indians. This particular band had been absent on the war-pathfor a considerable time, and, having suffered defeat, were returninghome rather crestfallen and without scalps. In passing near thefortress of Little Tim it occurred to them that they might yet retrievetheir character by assaulting that stronghold and carrying off the bootythat was there, with any scalps that chance might throw in their way.
That night the prairie chief, Little and Big Tim, Bounding Bull, andSoftswan were sitting in a very disconsolate frame of mind beside theirfriend the pale-face preacher, whose sunken eye and hollow cheek told ofhis rapidly approaching end. Besides the prospect of the death of onewhom they had known and loved so long, they were almost overwhelmed bydespair at the loss of Moonlight and Skipping Rabbit, and their failureto overtake and rescue them, while the difficulty of raising asufficient number of men at the time to render an attempt upon theBlackfoot stronghold possible with the faintest hope of success stillfurther increased their despair.
Even the dying missionary was scarcely able to give them hope orencouragement, for by that time his voice was so weak that he could onlyutter a word or two at long intervals with difficulty.
"The clouds are very dark, my father," said Whitewing.
"Very dark," responded his friend, "but on the other side the sun isshining brightly."
"Sometimes I find it rather hard to believe it," muttered Little Tim.
Bounding Bull did not speak, but the stern look of his brow showed thathe shared the feelings of the little hunter. Big Tim was also silentbut he glanced at Softswan, and she, as if in reply to his thoughts,said, "He doeth all things well."
"Ha!" exclaimed the missionary, with a quick glance of pleased surpriseat the girl; "you have learned a good lesson, soft one. Treasure it.`He doeth all things well.' We may think some of them dark, some evenwrong, but--`Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?'"
Silence again ensued, for they were indeed very low, yet they had by nomeans reached the lowest point of human misery. While they were sittingthere the Blackfoot band, under cover of the night, was softly creepingup the zigzag path. Great events often turn on small points. Rome wassaved by the cackling of geese, and Tim's Folly was lost by theslumbering of a goose! The goose in question was a youth, who was soinflated with the miraculous nature of the deeds which he intended to dothat he did not give his mind sufficiently to those which at that timehad to be done. He was placed as sentinel at the point of the littlerampart
furthest from the hut and nearest the forest. Instead ofstanding at his post and gazing steadily at the latter, he sat down andstared dreamily at the future. As might have been expected, the firstBlackfoot that raised his head cautiously above the parapet saw thedreamer, tapped his cranium, and rendered him unconscious. Next momenta swarm of black creatures leaped over the wall, burst open the door ofthe hut and, before the men assembled there could grasp their weapons,overpowered them by sheer weight of numbers. All were immediatelybound, except the woman and the dying man.
Thus it happened that when Rushing River arrived he found the placealready in possession of his own men.
"I will go up alone," he said, "to see what they are doing. If theyhave got the fire-water of the pale-faces they might shoot and killMoonlight in their mad haste."
"If Rushing River wishes to see his men, unseen by them, Moonlight canguide him by a secret way that is known only to her father and herfather's friends," said the girl.
The chief paused, as if uncertain for a moment how to act. Then he saidbriefly, "Let Moonlight lead; Rushing River will follow."
Without saying a word, the girl conducted her companion round by theriver's bed, and up by the secret path into the cavern at the rear ofthe little fortress. Here Eaglenose and Umqua were bidden to remain,while the girl raised the stone which covered the upper opening of thecave, and led the chief to the back of the hut whence issued the soundof voices, as if raised in anger and mutual recrimination.
Placing his eye to a chink in the back door, the Blackfoot chiefwitnessed a scene which filled him with concern and surprise.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
THE LAST.
The sight witnessed by Rushing River was one which might indeed havestirred the spirit of a mere stranger, much more that of one who waswell acquainted with, and more or less interested in, all the actors inthe scene.
Seated on the floor in a row, with their backs against the wall of thehut, and bound hand and foot were his old enemies Bounding Bull, LittleTim and his big son, and Whitewing, the prairie chief. In a corner laya man with closed eyes, clasped hands, and a face, the ashy paleness ofwhich indicated the near approach of death, if not its actual presence.In him he at once recognised the preacher, who, years ago, had directedhis youthful mind to Jesus, the Saviour of mankind.
In front of these stood one of the warriors of his own nation,brandishing a tomahawk, and apparently threatening instant destructionto Little Tim, who, to do him justice, met the scowls and threats of thesavage with an unflinching gaze. There was, however, no touch of prideor defiance in Tim's look, but in the frowns of Bounding Bull and BigTim we feel constrained to say that there were both pride and defiance.Several Blackfoot Indians stood beside the prisoners with knives intheir hands, ready at a moment's notice to execute their leader'scommands. Rushing River knew that leader to be one of the fiercest andmost cruel of his tribe. Softswan was seated at the feet of themissionary, with her face bowed upon her knees. She was not bound, buta savage stood near to watch her. Whitewing's old mother sat or rathercrouched, close to her.
What had already passed Rushing River of course could only guess. Ofwhat followed his ears and eyes took note.
"You look very brave just now," said the Blackfoot leader, "but I willmake you change your looks before I take your scalps to dry in theBlackfoot wigwams."
"You had better take our lives at once," said Big Tim fiercely, "else wewill begin to think that we have had the mischance to fall into thehands of cowardly squaws."
"Wah!" exclaimed Bounding Bull, with a nod of assent as he directed alook of scorn at his adversary.
"Tush, tush, boy," said Little Tim to his son reprovingly, in anundertone. "It ill becomes a man with white blood in his veins, an' whocalls hisself a Christian, to go boastin' like an or'nary savage. Ithowt I had thrashed that out of 'ee when ye was a small boy."
"Daddy," remonstrated Big Tim, "is not Softswan sittin' there at hismarcy?"
"No, lad, no. We are at the marcy of the Lord, an' His marcies areeverlastin'."
A faint smile flickered on the lips of the missionary at that moment,and, opening his eyes, he said solemnly--
"My son, hope thou in God, for thou shalt yet praise Him who is thehealth of thy countenance and thy God."
The savage leader was for the moment startled by the words, uttered inhis own language, by one whom he had thought to be dead, but recoveringhimself quickly, he said--
"Your trust will be vain, for you are now in my power, and I only spareyou long enough to tell you that a Blackfoot brave has just met us, whobrings us the good news of what our great Blackfoot chief did when hecrept into the camp of Bounding Bull and carried away his littledaughter from under his very nose, and also the daughter of Leetil Tim.Wah! Did I not say that I would make you change your looks?"
The savage was so far right that this reference to their great loss wasa terrible stab, and produced considerable change of expression on thefaces of the captives; but with a great effort Bounding Bull resumed hislook of contempt and said that what was news to the Blackfoot leader wasno news to him, and that not many days would pass before his warriorswould pay a visit to the Blackfoot nation.
"That may be so," retorted the savage, "but they shall not be led byBounding Bull, for his last hour has come."
So saying, the Blackfoot raised his tomahawk, and advanced to the chief,who drew himself up, and returned his glare of hate with a smile ofcontempt. Softswan sprang up with a shriek, and would have flungherself between them, but was held back by the savage who guarded her.At that moment the back door of the hut flew open, and Rushing Riverstood in the midst of them.
One word from him sent all the savages crestfallen out of the hut. Hefollowed them. Returning alone a few seconds later, he passed theastonished captives, and, kneeling down by the couch of the missionary,said, in tones that were too low to be heard by the others--
"Does my white father remember Rushing River?"
The missionary opened his eyes with a puzzled look of inquiry, and gazedat the Indian's face.
"Rushing River was but a boy," continued the chief, "when the pale-facepreacher came to the camp of the Blackfeet."
A gleam of intelligence seemed to shoot from the eyes of the dying man.
"Yes, yes," he said faintly; "I remember."
"My father," continued the chief, "spoke to Rushing River about hissins--about the Great Manitou; about Jesus, the Saviour of all men, andabout the Great Spirit. Rushing River did not believe then--he couldnot--but the Great Spirit must have been whispering to him since, for hebelieves _now_."
A look of quiet joy settled on the preacher's face while the chiefspoke.
Rousing himself with an effort, he said, as he turned a glance towardsthe captives--
"If you truly love Jesus, let these go free."
The chief had to bend down to catch the feebly-spoken words. Risinginstantly, he drew his knife, went to Little Tim, and cut the thongsthat bound him. Then he cut those of Big Tim and Whitewing, and lastlythose of Bounding Bull.
He had scarcely completed the latter act when his old enemy suddenlysnatched the knife out of his hand, caught him by the right arm with avice-like grasp, and pointed the weapon at his heart.
"Bounding Bull," he said fiercely, "knows not the meaning of all this,but he knows that his child is in the Blackfoot camp, and that RushingRiver is at his mercy."
No effort did Rushing River make to avert the impending blow, but stoodperfectly still, and, with a look of simple gravity, said--
"Skipping Rabbit is not in the Blackfoot camp. She is now in the campof her kindred; and Moonlight," he added, turning a glance on LittleTim, "is safe."
"Your face looks truthful and your tone sounds honest, Rushing River,"said Little Tim, "but the Blackfeet are clever at deceiving, and thechief is our bitter foe. What surety have we that he is not tellinglies? Rushing River knows well he has only to give a signal and his redreptiles will swarm in on us, all unarme
d as we are, and take ourscalps."
"My young men are beyond hearing," returned the chief. "I have sentthem away. My breast is open to the knife in the hand of Bounding Bull.I am no longer an enemy, but a follower of Jesus, and the preacher hastold us that He is the Prince of peace."
At this the prairie chief stepped forward.
"Friends," he said, "my heart is glad this day, for I am sure that youmay trust the word of Rushing River. Something of his change of mind Ihave heard of in the course of my wanderings, but I had not been surethat there was truth in the report till now."
Still Bounding Bull maintained his grasp on his old foe, and held theknife in readiness, so that if there should be any sudden attempt atrescue, he, at least, should not escape.
The two Tims, Little and Big, although moved by Whitewing's remarks,were clearly not quite convinced. They seemed uncertain how to view thematter, and were still hesitating when Rushing River again spoke.
"The pale-faces," he said, "do not seem to be so trustful as the redmen. I have put myself in your power, yet you do not believe me. Why,then, does not Bounding Bull strike his ancient enemy? His greatopportunity has come. His squaws are waiting in his wigwam fur thescalp of Rushing River."
For the first time in his life Bounding Bull was rendered incapable ofaction. In all his extensive experience of Indian warfare he had neverbeen placed in such a predicament. If he had been an out-and-outheathen, he would have known what to do, and would have done it atonce--he would have gratified revenge. Had Rushing River been anout-and-out heathen, he never would have given him the chance he nowpossessed of wreaking his vengeance. Then the thought of SkippingRabbit filled his heart with tender anxiety, and confused his judgmentstill more. It was very perplexing! But Rushing River brought theperplexity to an end by saying--
"If you wish for further proof that Rushing River tells no lies,Moonlight will give it. Let her come forward."
Little Tim was beginning to think that the Blackfoot chief was, as heexpressed it, somewhat "off his head," when Moonlight ran into the room,and seized him with her wonted energy round the neck.
"Yes, father, it's all true. I am safe, as you see, and happy."
"An' Skippin' Rabbit?" said Little Tim.
"Is in her own wigwam by this time."
As she spoke in the Indian tongue, Bounding Bull understood her. He atonce let go his hold of his old foe. Returning the knife to him, hegrasped his right hand after the manner of the pale-faces, and said--
"My brother."
By this time Eaglenose and Umqua had appeared upon the scene, and addedtheir testimony to that of their chief. While they were still engagedin explanation, a low wail from Softswan turned their attention to thecorner where the preacher lay.
The prairie chief glided to the side of his old friend, and kneeled bythe couch. The others clustered round in solemn silence. They guessedtoo surely what had drawn forth the girl's wail. The old man lay, withhis thin white locks scattered on the pillow, his hands clasped as if inprayer, and with eyes nearly closed, but the lips moved not. His daysof prayer and striving on this earth were over, and his eternity ofpraise and glory had begun.
We might here, appropriately enough, close our record of the prairiechief and the preacher, but we feel loath to leave them without a fewparting words, for the good work which the preacher had begun wascarried on, not only by Whitewing, but, as far as example went--and thatwas a long way--by Little and Big Tim and their respective wives, andBounding Bull, as well as by many of their kindred.
After the preacher's remains had been laid in the grave at the foot of apine-tree in that far western wilderness, Little Tim, with his son andIndian friends, followed Bounding Bull to his camp, where one of thevery first persons they saw was Skipping Rabbit engaged in violentlyagitating the limbs of her jumping-jack, to the ineffable delight ofEaglenose.
Soon after, diplomatic negotiations were entered into between the tribeof Bounding Bull and the Blackfeet, resulting in a treaty of peace whichbid fair to be a lasting treaty, at least as lasting as most other humantreaties ever are. The pipe of peace was solemnly smoked, thewar-hatchet was not less solemnly buried, and a feast on a giganticscale, was much more solemnly held.
Another result was that Rushing River and Moonlight were married--notafter the simple Indian fashion, but with the assistance of a realpale-faced missionary, who was brought from a distance of nearly threehundred miles, from a pale-face pioneer settlement, for the expresspurpose of tying that knot along with several other knots of the samekind, and doing what in him lay to establish and strengthen the goodwork which the old preacher had begun.
Years passed away, and a fur-trading establishment was sent into thosewestern regions, which gradually attracted round it a group of Indians,who not only bartered skins with the traders, but kept them constantlysupplied with meat. Among the most active hunters of this group wereour friends Little and Big Tim, Bounding Bull, Rushing River, andEaglenose. Sometimes these hunted singly, sometimes in couples, notunfrequently all together, for they were a very sociable band.
Whitewing was not one of them, for he devoted himself exclusively towandering about the mountains and prairies, telling men and women andchildren of the Saviour of sinners, of righteousness and judgment tocome--a self-appointed Red Indian missionary, deriving his authorityfrom the Word of God.
But the prairie chief did not forsake his old and well-tried friends.He left a hostage in the little community, a sort of living lodestone,which was sure to bring him back again and again, however far hiswanderings might extend. This was a wrinkled specimen of femalehumanity, which seemed to be absolutely incapable of extinction becauseof the superhuman warmth of its heart and the intrinsic hilarity of itsfeelings! Whoever chanced to inquire for Whitewing, whether in summeror in winter, in autumn or in spring, was sure to receive some suchanswer as the following: "Nobody knows where he is. He wanders here andthere and everywhere; but he'll not be absent long, for he always turnsup, sooner or later, to see his old mother."
Yes, that mummified old mother, that "dear old one," was a sort ofplanet round which Brighteyes and Softswan and Moonlight and SkippingRabbit and others, with a host of little Brighteyes and littleSoftswans, revolved, forming a grand constellation, which the men of thesettlement gazed at and followed as the mariners of old followed thePole star.
The mention of Skipping Rabbit reminds us that we have something more tosay about her.
It so happened that the fur trader who had been sent to establish a postin that region was a good man, and, strange to say, entertained a strongbelief that the soul of man was of far greater importance than his body.On the strength of this opinion he gathered the Indians of theneighbourhood around him, and told them that, as he wished to read tothem out of the Word of the Great Manitou, he would hold a class twice aweek in the fur-store; and, further, that if any of them wished to learnEnglish, and read the Bible of the pale-faces for themselves, he wasquite willing to teach them.
Well, the very first pupil that came to the English class was SkippingRabbit, and, curiously enough, the very second was Eaglenose.
Now it must be remembered that we have said that years had passed away.Skipping Rabbit was no longer a spoiled, little laughing child, but atall, graceful, modest girl, just bursting into womanhood. She wasstill as fond as ever of the jumping-jack, but she slily worked itsgalvanic limbs for the benefit of little children, not for her own--Odear no! Eaglenose had also grown during these years into a stalwartman, and his chin and lower jaws having developed considerably, his nosewas relatively much reduced in appearance. About the same timeBrighteyes and Softswan, naturally desiring to become more interestingto their husbands, also joined this class, and they were speedilyfollowed by Moonlight and Bounding Bull. Rushing River also looked in,now and then, in a patronising sort of way, but Whitewing resolutelyrefused to be troubled with anything when in camp save his mother andhis mother-tongue.
It will not therefore surprise
the reader to be told that Eaglenose andthe skipping one, being thus engaged in a common pursuit, werenaturally, we may even say unavoidably, thrown a good deal together; andas their philological acquirements extended, they were wont at times toair their English on each other. The lone woods formed a convenientscene for their intercourse.
"Kom vis me," said Eaglenose to Skipping Rabbit one day after school.
"Var you goes?" asked the girl shyly--yet we might almost saytwinklingly.
"Don' know. Nowhars. Everywhars. Anywhars."
"Kim 'long, den."
"Skipping one," said Eaglenose--of course in his own tongue, though hecontinued the sentence in English--"de lunguish of de pale-fass amdiffikilt."
"Yes--'most too diffikilt for larn."
"Bot Softswan larn him easy."
"Bot Softswan have one pale-fass hubsind," replied the girl, breakinginto one of her old merry laughs at the trouble they both experienced incommunicating through such a "lunguish."
"Would the skipping one," said Eaglenose, with a sharp look, "like tohave a hubsind?"
The skipping one looked at her companion with a startled air, blushed,cast down her eyes, and said nothing.
"Come, sit down here," said the Indian, suddenly reverting to his nativetongue, as he pointed to the trunk of a fallen tree.
The girl suffered herself to be led to the tree, and sat down beside theyouth, who retained one of her hands.
"Does not the skipping one know," he said earnestly, "that for manymoons she has been as the sun in the sky to Eaglenose? When she was alittle one, and played with the jumping-jack, her eyes seemed toEaglenose like the stars, and her voice sounded like the rippling waterafter it has reached the flowering prairie. When the skipping onelaughed, did not the heart of Eaglenose jump? and when she let dropsfall from her stars, was not his heart heavy? Afterwards, when shebegan to think and talk of the Great Manitou, did not the Indian's earstingle and his heart burn? It is true," continued the youth, with atouch of pathos in his tone which went straight to the girl's heart, "itis true that Eaglenose dwells far below the skipping one. He creepslike the beetle on the ground. She flies like the wild swan among theclouds. Eaglenose is not worthy of her; but love is a strong horse thatscorns to stop at difficulties. Skipping Rabbit and Eaglenose have thesame thoughts, the same God, the same hopes and desires. They have oneheart--why should they not have one wigwam?"
Reader, we do not ask you to accept the above declaration as a specimenof Indian love-making. You are probably aware that the red men have avery different and much more prosaic manner of doing things than this.But we have already said that Eaglenose was an eccentric youth;moreover, he was a Christian, and we do not feel bound to account forthe conduct or sentiments of people who act under the combined influenceof Christianity and eccentricity.
When Skipping Rabbit heard the above declaration, she did indeed blush alittle. She could not help that, we suppose, but she did not lookawkward, or wait for the gentleman to say more, but quietly putting herarm round his neck, she raised her little head and kissed that part ofhis manly face which lay immediately underneath his eagle nose!
Of course he was not shabby enough to retain the kiss. He understood itto be a loan, and returned it immediately with interest--but--surely wehave said enough for an intelligent reader!
Not many days after that these two were married in the fur-store of thetraders. A grand feast and a great dance followed, as a matter ofcourse. It is noteworthy that there was no drink stronger than tea atthat merry-making, yet the revellers were wonderfully uproarious andvery happy, and it was universally admitted that, exclusive of course ofthe bride and bridegroom, the happiest couple there were a wrinkled oldwoman of fabulous age and her amiable son--the Prairie Chief.
THE END.
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