The Lost Trail

  CHAPTER XXIII

  AN ABORIGINAL HOME

  The terrifying walk of Otto Relstaub ended sooner and more agreeablythan he anticipated. He had in fact gone but a short ways when hebecame aware that the Osage had a definite destination before him.A light flashed out from the gloom in front, vanishing before theboy could locate it. A few steps further and it reappeared, againdropping from sight.

  Otto was walking slowly, intently peering in the direction andnaturally wondering what it all meant, when, as he moved slightly tothe left, it once more came to view. This showed that it wasvisible only when approached along a certain line. It was not anordinary camp-fire, but the light flitted in and out of sight, onaccount of the objects intervening between it and the spectator;there was absolutely but a single line of advance which would keepit in view.

  The Indian gave no expression to his views, but the rustling leavestold that he was still treading on the heels of the lad, who knewthat so long as he walked straight toward the light, he wasfollowing the wishes of his master.

  Suddenly something flitted in front of the blaze, as though a personhad stepped quickly past. But Otto had secured the range, so tospeak, and so far as the trees and undergrowth permit, he advancedin a direct line. The distance being short, the whole thingspeedily became clear to him.

  The fire was burning within and at the further side of a wigwam, andwas first seen through the opening which served as an entrance.Thus it was that when he diverged to the right or left it was shutfrom sight.

  "It ish, de vigvam of him," thought Otto, "ish going to takes me mitdere, and pieces to makes de childrens laugh."

  The boy softly returned the knife to its place, for he was anxiousthat the chieftain should see no signs of fear on his part. A fewsteps further and he stopped in front of the door of the lodge,afraid to enter until something more was said by his master.

  The entrance of Otto into the aboriginal home was anything butdignified. The proprietor observing that he had halted, gave himsuch a powerful shove that he sprawled headlong in the middle of the"apartment."

  "Oof!" grunted the sachem, bending his head so as to push his bodythrough the opening, which was not closed after him; "lazy dog!"

  Otto did not think it wise to dispute the question. He was not hurtby the fall, and rising, stepped back against the side of the lodgeand took a good view of his surroundings.

  The wigwam of the Osage chieftain was similar to those which may befound to-day on the slopes of the Rocky Mountains, in the depths ofthe wilderness along the Assiniboine, on the shores of AthabascaLake in the far North, and beyond the Llano Estacado of the South.It was modeled in the same style that was fashionable when Columbussaw the lights of the New World twinkling through the gloom of thenight across the unknown sea, and which will prevail so long as theAmerican Indian roams the woods and wields the tomahawk.

  A half dozen poles were pushed into the ground in a rude circle, soas to include a space between four and five yards in diameter. Thetops of the poles joined, as do the bayonets of muskets when stacked.This framework was covered with the skins of bison and deer, sewedtogether with the sinews of the latter. At the peak of the roof wasan opening a foot in diameter, partly filled by the network of polesthere locked together. This answered for a chimney to the firekindled at one side of the lodge.

  Directly opposite the fireplace (if it may be called that), was theopening which served as a door, there being no other outlet exceptthe one named. The deer-skin could be flung back or allowed to hangdown. If the wind set it to flapping, it was pinned fast with aknife or sharp stick.

  The ground in most places was covered with bison-skins, so that inmoderately cold weather they were comfortable and pleasant to sitand recline upon. The skins composing the sides of the wigwam weresoiled with smoke, grease and dirt for alas! nearly all the romanceand charm enveloping the American Indian is dissipated at firstsight by his frightful lack of cleanliness.

  But Otto Relstaub had viewed the interior of Indian wigwams before,and his interest was fixed upon the occupants, of whom there werethree beside himself. The squaw or wife of the chief was at thefurther end, or rather the side opposite the door, busy broiling twoslices of venison on the coals. She had no kettle, pan, knife orfork in the lodge, her sole implement being a sharpened stick,scarcely a foot in length, which she used in turning and handlingthe meat.

  When Otto came tumbling through the door, the mistress was in theact of lifting one of the slices from the coals. She was on herknees, and paused for a second with the meat in air, while sheglanced around to see whether her lord and master had been imbibingtoo much fire-water. One glance was enough, and she turned back andgave her attention to the culinary operations.

  She wore moccasins, leggings, and a species of loose hunting-shirt,tied with a cord about the waist, and which protected her-body quitewell, though the deer-skin composing it looked as if it had servedas a part of the wigwam for a number of years. Her long, black hairdangled about her shoulders, as did that of her husband, and shewas no more cleanly in her person than was he.

  Perhaps the most interesting object in the place was an Indianinfant, less than a year old, which lay on a bison-robe not far fromthe fire. It was a male, too young to walk, though it had beenfreed from the coffin-like cradle in which the aboriginal babies arestrapped and carried on the backs of their mothers.

  The little fellow was covered to his arm-pits, the bare arms lyingoutside on the bison-robe. He kept these going in an awkward,spasmodic fashion, which caused the infantile fist now and then toland in his eye. On such occasions the organ winked very suddenly,and the boy seemed to start with a gasp of surprise, but he did notcry. Young as he was, he had been trained in the iron school whichmakes the American Indian indifferent to suffering and torture.

  This aboriginal youth showed more interest in the new arrival thandid any one else. His fists became motionless, his head flappedover on one side, and the twinkling black eyes were fixed upon Ottoas though they would read him through. If we could recall thefancies that flitted through our brains at that early stage ofexistence, what a wonderful kaleidoscope it would present!

  The limits of the wigwam were so moderate that the sachem wascompelled to lay aside most of his dignity. Seating himself on arobe, just across from their guest, he said something to his squaw,and then, leaning back, with his legs crossed and his arms folded,he placidly smoked his pipe and awaited supper. The wife answeredwith what sounded like a half dozen grunts, but did not look aroundor cease giving her full attention to the broiling venison.

  The prisoner observed a long, fine-looking rifle leaning against oneside of the wigwam, the powder-horn and bullet-pouch on the groundnear the stock. Beside them, a bow as long and powerful as that ofDeerfoot; and a quiver half full of arrows also lay on the earth.Like the Shawanoe, the Osage was an adept in the use of bothweapons.

  In addition to the furniture referred to, a few cast-off garments ofthe owners were flung on one side, while some additional pieces ofvenison lay upon, or rather among, a mass of leaves, where theycould be found when needed. The smoke from the fire found its waythrough the opening in the roof, and the vapor from the pipe of theOsage, after slowly winding above his head, seemed to lean off toone side and grope its way toward the same vent. A partial draughtwas created through the door of the wigwam, by which the impure airwas carried away, and the interior rendered much more pleasant thanwould be supposed.

  Like a true native American gentleman, the chieftain sat calmlyenjoying his pipe, while his wife did the work of the household, andshe, in accordance with universal law, accepted the drudgery as oneof the necessities of existence.

  There were some facts respecting the Indian wigwam and its ownerwhich may as well be stated in this place. The red man had been achief of the Osage tribe, but a violent quarrel with his peoplecaused him to withdraw, and he was living entirely alone in thewoods with his family. The village where he had reigned so long wasmiles distant. He
had a number of partisans who occasionally calledat his "residence" to see and urge him to return, but he continuedsulking in his tent, smoked his awful pipe, and shook his head toall their appeals.

  The wigwam, while similar in shape to the hundreds still to be foundin the wilderness of the North American continent differed in somerespects, while retaining the same general form. Many a lodgecontains but the single ridge-pole, standing in the centre of thestructure, which, in the shape of a cone, is gathered at the top andspreads out at the bottom, where it is fastened in place by pegs,similar to those of the ordinary army tent.

  Otto Relstaub, being relieved from his fear of instant death, becamesensitive to the appetizing odor of the broiling deer-steaks, andlooked longingly toward the unattractive cook, whose only redeemingfeature was the beauty of her teeth, which were as regular andalmost as white as those of Deerfoot.

  When, a few minutes later, the slices of meat were ready, the squawflung one to her master, who dextrously caught it with his righthand while he removed the pipe with the other. Laying the latter onthe ground beside him, he began eating his supper, using both hands,much as a bear employs his paws.

  The wife devoured her share in the same manner, the two forming astriking, but by no means attractive, picture. The meat wasobviously tough, but their teeth were equal to the work, and plates,knives and forks would have been only an encumbrance.

  While the mother was thus occupied, she kept looking across at herbaby, who seemed to be watching her with comical wishfulness.By-and-by, the parent gave a flirt of her hand, and a piece of thevenison, which she had bitten off, went flying toward the head ofthe youngster. He made an awkward grab with both hands, but itlanded on his pug nose. He quickly found it, and shoving it betweenhis lips, began fiercely sucking and tugging, as though it affordedthe most delicious nourishment, which undoubtedly was fact.

  "I dinks they have forgot me," Otto said himself, with a sigh; "Ivish dot she would fro me a piece of dot, and see whedder she couldhit mine nose; yaw--Id just open mine mouth and cotch him on defly."

  The lad had seated himself with his back against the side of thewigwam, and no one could have looked at his face and failed to knowhe was as hungry as one of his years could well be. Had the peoplepossessed more food than they wished, and had it been cooked, it ispossible they would have tossed him a piece, but, as it was, theyhad no intention of doing anything of the kind, as Otto plainly saw.

  "They am pigs," he said, taking care that the huge chief did notoverhear his muttered words; "if I starve, dey will sot dere andlaugh at me till they dies."

  The meat soon vanished, and then the squaw began fumbling among theleaves where the uncooked venison lay. Otto's eyes sparkled withhope.

  "She is going to cook mit a piece for meawh!"

  Instead of food, she fished out a pipe, similar to that of hermaster. Walking to him she held out her hand, and he passed over apouch of tobacco, from which she filled the bowl of her pipe,punching in and compressing the stuff with her forefinger. Then itwas lighted, with a coal of fire which she deftly scooped up, andsitting, so that she faced her guest, she crossed her feet, andleaning her elbows on her knees, stared at him, the picture ofenjoyment, as she puffed her pipe. At the same time, the babyeagerly sucked and chewed his bit of meat, and, no doubt, was ashappy as its parents.

  But this had continued only a few minutes, when all the adultsstarted, for footsteps on the outside showed that some one wasapproaching the wigwam.