CHAPTER XV.
THE TRAUMEREI AGAIN.
An hour passed in this mysterious and strange tranquillity--the noon hourof night. The warriors seemed contented and satisfied. Many of them wereold; some of them remembered the coming of the first ships to theColumbia, and a few of them the long visit of Vancouver. They knew thewisdom of Umatilla, and seemed proud that his will had been so readilyobeyed.
But not so with the biters. They were young, and they had plotted on thisnight to begin hostilities against the settlers. Their plan had been toburn the log school-house and the house of the Woodses, and to make acaptive of Mrs. Woods, whose hostile spirit they wished to break andpunish. Soon after the quiet scene at midnight they began to be restless.Their cries arose here and there about the margin of the plateau and alongthe river.
The old chief knew their feelings, and saw the stormy ripples here andthere. He arose slowly, and called:
"My people, draw near."
The tribe gathered about the platform. The young braves knew what the oldchief was about to say, and their cries of discontent grew loud andmultiplied.
"The log school-house!" shrieked one, in a voice of rage.
"_Pil-pil!_" cried another. "_Pil-pil!_" echoed many voices. A tumultfollowed, and Gretchen started up from her reverie, and heard among therestless murmurs the name of Mrs. Woods.
She felt a nervous terror for a moment, but her spiritual sense and faith,which had come to her like a new-born life, returned to her.
She arose on the platform and took her violin, and looked down upon thesea of dusky faces in the smoky moonlight. She drew her bow. The musicquivered. There was a lull in the excited voices. She played low, andthere followed a silence.
The old chief came heavily up on the platform with a troubled face andstood beside her.
"Play the beautiful air." She played the _Traumerei_ again.
The chief arose, as the last strain died away, and said:
"My people, listen."
The plateau was silent. The Columbia could be heard flowing. The treesseemed listening. Benjamin came upon the platform, reeling, and seemedabout to speak to his father, but the old chief did not heed.
"My people, listen," repeated the chief.
A wild shriek of pain rent the air, and Benjamin dropped at the feet ofhis father. It was his voice that uttered the cry of agony and despair ashe fell.
What had happened?
The boy lay on the platform as one dead. The old chief bent over him andlaid his hand on his face. He started back as he did so, for the face wascold. But the boy's eyes pitifully followed every movement of his father.Gretchen sunk down beside the body, and drew her hand across his foreheadand asked for water. Benjamin knew her.
Soon his voice came again. He looked wistfully toward Gretchen and said:
"I shall never go to find the Black Eagle's nest again. It is the plague.My poor father!--my poor father!"
"Send for the medicine-man," said the chief. "Quick!"
Hopping-Bear, the old medicine-man, came, a dreadful figure in eagle'splumes and bear-skins. To affect the imagination of the people when he wasgoing to visit the sick, he had been accustomed to walk upon his two handsand one foot, with the other foot moving up and down in the air. Hebelieved that sickness was caused by obsession, or the influence of someevil spirit, and he endeavored, by howlings, jumpings, and rattling ofsnake-skins, to drive this imaginary spirit away. But he did not begin hisincantations here; he looked upon Benjamin with staring eyes, and criedout:
"It is the plague!"
The old chief of the Cascades lifted his helpless face to the sky.
"The stars are gone out!" he said. "I care for nothing more."
The boy at times was convulsed, then lay for a time unconscious after theconvulsions, then consciousness would return. In one of these moments ofconsciousness he asked of Gretchen:
"Where is Boston tilicum?"
"He is not here--he does not know that you are sick."
"Run for him; tell him I can't go to the Missouri with him. I can't findthe Black Eagle's nest. Run!"
His mind was dreaming and wandering.
Gretchen sent a runner to bring the schoolmaster to the dreadful scene.
A convulsion passed over the boy, but he revived again.
"Have faith in Heaven," said Gretchen. "There is One above that will saveyou."
"One above that will save me! Are you sure?"
"Yes," said Gretchen.
She added:
"Mother is sorry for what she said to you."
"I am sorry," said the boy, pathetically.
He was lost again in spasms of pain. When he revived, Marlowe Mann hadcome. The boy lifted his eyes to his beloved teacher vacantly; then thelight of intelligence came back to them, and he knew him.
"I can't go," he said. "We shall never go to the lakes of the honkstogether. Boston tilicum, I am going to die; I am going away like mybrothers--where?"
It was near the gray light of the morning, and a flock of wild geese wereheard trumpeting in the air. The boy heard the sound, and started.
"Boston tilicum!"
"What can I do for you?"
"Boston tilicum, listen. Do you hear? What taught the honks where to go?"
"The Great Father of all."
"He leads them?"
"Yes."
"He will lead me?"
"Yes."
"And teach me when I am gone away. I can trust him. But my father--myfather! Boston tilicum, he loves me, and he is old."
Flock after flock of wild geese flew overhead in the dim light. The boylay and listened. He seemed to have learned a lesson of faith from theinstincts of these migratory birds. He once turned to the master and said,almost in Gretchen's words:
"There is One above that will save me."
As the morning drew nearer, the air seemed filled with a long processionof Canadian geese going toward the sea. The air rang with their calls. Thepoor boy seemed to think that somehow they were calling to him.
There was silence at last in the air, and he turned toward Gretchen hisstrangely quiet face, and said, "Play."
Gretchen raised her bow. As she did so a sharp spasm came over him. Helifted his hand and tried to feel of one of the feathers from the BlackEagle's nest. He was evidently wandering to the Falls of the Missouri. Hishand fell. He passed into a stertorous sleep, and lay there, watched bythe old chief and the silent tribe.
Just as the light of early morn was flaming through the tall, cool, dewytrees, the breathing became labored, and ceased.
There he lay in the rising sun, silent and dead, with the helpless chiefstanding statue-like above him, and the tribe, motionless as a picture,circled around him, and with Gretchen at his feet.
"Make way!" said the old chief, in a deep voice.
He stepped down from the platform, and walked in a kingly manner, yet withtottering steps, toward the forest. Gretchen followed him. He heard herstep, but did not look around.
"White girl, go back," he said; "I want to be alone."
He entered the forest slowly and disappeared.
Just at night he was seen coming out of the forest again. He spoke to buta single warrior, and only said:
"Bury him as the white men bury; open the blanket of the earth; andcommand the tribe to be there--to-morrow at sundown. Take them all away--Iwill watch. Where is the white girl?"
"She has gone home," said the Indian.
"Then I will watch alone. Take them all away--I want to be alone. It isthe last night of the chief of the Umatillas. It is the last watch of thestars. My blood is cold, my heart beats slow--it will not be long!"
The chief sat all night by the body. In the morning he went to his lodge,and the tribe made the preparations for the funeral, and opened a grave inthe earth.