CHAPTER IX.

  AN HEIRLOOM RETURNED.

  Rand, whose inquiring turn of mind was scarcely inferior to that of Jack,but of a more profound and less transitory nature, had shown a stronginterest in the Indian boatmen from the beginning of their journey and hadstruck up an especial friendship with the Indian whose dog had tackled thewild cat and had been later crushed by the Kodiak bear. The red man, whilenot morose, was taciturn, and replied to all questions with monosyllablesand scarcely a smile. He showed friendliness in other ways, and as hebecame better acquainted with the boys responded to the young Scoutleader's approaches. Day by day and word by word he inducted Rand into themysteries of the "pigeon," or jargon used as a language of communicationwith the natives. It was made up of half Siwash, half English words, thelatter so amputated and distorted as scarcely to be recognizable. It wasrather automatic in character, as it could be changed or added to ascircumstances required, and Rand found it easy to use after he hadmastered the first few principles of it, if it may be said to have hadany.

  One evening, after the day's work was over, Rand strolled over to theshack where the Indians lived and found his erstwhile friend sitting on astone, engaged in slowly carving with a sharp knife the soft wood of asycamore spar that had been carefully cleared of its branches and smoothedto comparative symmetry. The worker had begun at the butt end of the poleand had worked his way carefully upward. The carvings were weird, goggleeyed, snouted and saw-toothed creatures, the like of which could only haveoriginated in the brain of the late Lewis Carroll, who wrote "Alice inWonderland" or in the dreams of a Siwash nourished on smoked salmon andrancid seal oil. Part of the carved lines of one creature formed thefeatures of another (if they could be dignified by the name of features),and there was a sort of artistic continuity about the whole that arousedRand's interest and admiration. At the butt of the pole another Indian hadbegun with two or three bean tins filled with crude colors evidently madefrom vegetable dyes, to paint the carvings already finished. Rand pointedto the pole, and asked:

  "What?"

  "Totem," grunted the Siwash. "Me chief." He further informed the youngScout that it was his purpose to set it up in front of the camp. Justthen, Swiftwater came along and spoke to the Indian in his native Siwash.The latter arose and stood for a moment erect, with his hand on his breastwith so dignified an air that Rand could scarcely recognize in the figurebefore him the slouching round-shouldered aborigine, who went daily, sostolidly, about the labor of the camp. Swiftwater listened to the ratheroratorical harangue which the Indian delivered, smiling at times, butgiving the man respectful attention. He even gave him half a salute, as heturned and walked with Rand toward their own tent.

  "I didn't know that we had with us a representative of the old Siwashnobility. The tribal relations of these people are pretty well broken upsince we brought our boasted civilization and our whiskey up among theirhomes, and they don't recognize the authority of their head men any more.They have 'got onto' our most cherished principle that all men werecreated free and equal, and the chiefs and their families have to hustlefor a living as hard as the lowest of them. Still, they cling to theirancient dignities. That totem he's been carving is the insignia of hisclan or family, and as he couldn't bring the old family totem pole withhim, he carves one wherever he settles for a time, and sets it up. Youremember in old 'Ivanhoe,' Front de Boeuf and the Templar displayed theirbanners on the castle walls whenever they came up for the week end, andthey really didn't have so much on this old rootdigger after all. I ratherlike his spunk. Good family connections are really something to be proudof if ye don't let 'em interfere with yer business, and they don't comevisitin' too often."

  Something about the totem pole aroused Rand's imagination, and with theother boys he went over to the shack to look at the "work of art" as Jackinsisted on calling it. Although the boys had seen totem poles in the citymuseums, and one or two on their original ground in the Alaskan villagesthat they had visited, there was something familiar about this one. Asthey went over the various figures, trying to distinguish them from eachother and speculating on what they were supposed to represent, Pepper, whohad been inspecting the upper part of the work, where lack of color madethe figures less conspicuous, suddenly exclaimed:

  "S-s-say, this fellow's family isn't so very old. Here's the ace of clubs,and that couldn't have got over here before Columbus, and he didn't comeup this far."

  "What's that?" said Rand. "Let's look at it." Then, for the first time,the reason for the familiarity of the design struck him.

  "Hey, boys," he cried, excitedly, "don't you see it?"

  "What is it?" they cried in chorus, crowding around him.

  "There, there, and there. The top of this totem is an exact replica of ournarwhal horn. Here's the mammoth, and here's the pile of tusks."

  "Begorra, that's truth," said Gerald. "Looks as though he had copied itfrom our ivory. Run and get it, Rand."

  The young Scout leader, who had been made custodian of the treasure,returned to the tent and brought out the relic. It was a short, brokenpiece of the twisted horn of the narwhal or white whale, discolored, andrubbed smooth as if with much handling. It was covered with rude etchingsevidently made with flints or sharp shells. As nearly as could be madeout, the figures represented a mammoth, an extinct creature of theelephant tribe, a man beside a dogless sledge, a pile of mammoth tusks,and a high cliff with an opening or cave at the top whose mouth was shapedlike the ace of clubs referred to by Pepper.

  With the greatest care the boys went over the lines of the graven ivorycomparing the figures with the carvings of the hieroglyphics which the"chief" had carved on his totem pole, and found them to be almostidentical, except for a few minor particulars caused by the relief work onthe totem, and less crudity in the carvings.

  The Indians at this time of day were engaged at their work of sawinglumber and in finishing the foundations of the sod house, where a ditchwas being dug, but it being near the hour of noon the man who haddescribed himself as a "chief" came to the shack to arrange for thenoonday meal.

  The boys turned to greet him as he came up, and Rand drew his attention tothe ivory, intending to indicate the resemblance of the two carvings. Ashis eye fell upon the relic a remarkable change came over the Siwash. Hereached forward, and his eyes blazing with excitement, almost tore theivory from Rand's hand and stepped back in a defiant attitude.

  Heretofore, the tones of the Indians, like those of their dogs, had beenlow, guttural and subdued. Now the aborigine gave vent to a shrillpiercing yell, and, at the same time, waved hysterically to his comrades,all five of whom dropped their tools and rushed to the shack andsurrounded the chief.

  With a wealth of wild gesticulation and deep growling tones that at timesrose to almost a shriek in a higher note they examined the horn andappeared to pay it the most awed reverence. The Scouts seeing that theywere so deeply interested did not attempt to repossess themselves of theirtreasure for some minutes, and then Rand was met by a most firm refusal onthe part of the leading Indian to give it up.

  The other Indians surrounded him in a defiant attitude--the first sign ofinsubordination that had yet appeared among them, and the boys seeing thatthey had encountered a mystery which could not at once be unraveled, andthat the relic had some almost overpowering importance to the Siwashes,determined to drop the matter for the time being, and put it up later tothe commander of the camp.

  The aborigines went back quietly to their labor in the afternoon, and theboys who were at work with the miner, laying out the foundation for thesawmill, took occasion in the intervals of their labor to tell Swiftwaterthe story of the narwhal's horn, and the incident that had taken place atnoon. The guide listened with close attention, and at the finish of theincident his face was rather grave.

  "I'll talk with that main guy Siwash, some time this afternoon. Meantime,I wish you would all leave this matter in my hands. It may turn out to beof more importance to us than we think."

  The Scouts readily ag
reed, and toward the middle of the afternoon theminer left them and strolled over to where the Indians were at work on thesod house, and calling the "chief" to one side walked away with him to thebank of the creek.

  "Well," said Jack, when they were all together at one end of thefoundation, "what do you think of it? There seems to be more in that hornthan we thought when we decided to bring it along with us."

  "Yes," replied Rand, "and we seem to be coming out of the little end ofit."

  "Faith," exclaimed Gerald, "it looks as if that Indian was going to holdon to our relic, and the others seem as if they were going to stand byhim."

  "They certainly have seen something like it before," commented Dick, "andmaybe it's worth more to them than to us. It was only a mere guess ofours, after Colonel Snow undertook to interpret it to us, that there mightbe anything behind it, and it was only because it had evidently come froman Arctic country that we even thought of bringing it along with us."

  "I think," said Rand, "that we shall have trouble getting it back, and I,for one, propose that we leave the whole matter in the hands of Swiftwaterand try and get the true inwardness of the thing from him. It ought to bea good story if we don't get anything else out of it." This view wasreadily agreed to, and the afternoon's work was progressing satisfactorilywhen Don, after deep thought, said:

  "I've been listening to this Siwash language, and I haed me doots as towhether it was a real language like Gaelic or English or just a rumble,but when I heard that head man scream like a white man I concluded thatit's got some elements of a language."

  The conference between the miner and the chief lasted for a half hour,after which the latter returned to his work, and Swiftwater joined theboys. His face was still grave, and simply remarking that he wouldenlighten them at supper when the afternoon's work was completed.

  "I'm a little bothered about this matter," said Swiftwater, after theevening meal was concluded, "and would have given a good deal if it hadn'thappened. My experience with savages the world over has taught me thatwhile you may rob them and make war on them and get away with it, that youcannot interfere safely with their religions or their traditions. Not thatwe have intentionally done so, but it may have an effect after all.

  "The chief told me a long story, a good deal of which I couldn't quitemake out the sense of, but it seems that you boys have in some way gothold of an ancient treasure of his tribe many hundred years old, andconsidered in some way, sacred. He says there were two of these relics,that they were handed from generation to generation and carefully guarded.At first they were merely the record of a buried treasure, the wealth ofthe northern tribes being the ivory of the walrus and the narwhal and suchtusks of the mammoth as came to them through the melting of the glaciers.The buried treasure was never found, and the tradition finally becameincorporated in the totem or coat of arms of the tribe.

  "Many years ago this family of Siwashes was raided by tall red Indiansfrom the far southwest and the family scattered, and many women andchildren and much loot taken. These ivory relics were among the loot, andhave been simply a legend of the remnants of the tribe ever since.

  "The unexpected return of this relic has aroused a new spirit in them, andI can see a little offishness and suspicion. While I do not expect anytrouble from them I want to be absolutely certain of them until we getthis work of Colonel Snow's done, and as I say, I should have been bettersatisfied if the matter had not come up at this time."

  "I want to suggest," said Rand, "that we Scouts surrender all claim to theivory, and tell the Indians that they are welcome to the relic."

  "That might be a good idea, and I will go along with you and explain tothe Siwashes that it came into your hands accidentally."

  The boys crossed over to the shack where the chief sat smoking with theothers. For some reason all work on the totem pole had been abandoned forthat night at least.

  Rand, in his newly acquired jargon, explained to the aborigines that theScouts desired to present the heirloom to the tribe, and Swiftwatersupplemented this with a talk in the native tongue telling just how theboys had come into possession of the horn.

  The Indians listened gravely, without expression, except to nod eagerassent to the offer of the Scouts to relinquish the prized relic. Thechief even showed some cordiality, saying:

  "Good! You come me potlatch," which Jim explained was an invitation tovisit him at his village on the occasion of a merrymaking similar to aChristmas celebration.

  The Scouts retired that night full of the mystery of the thing, feeling asif they had come, somehow, into touch with a long dead past. Swiftwaterappeared more reassured, but took occasion to visit the shack beforeturning in and found the aborigines all herded together with the dog inthe almost air tight hut, ventilation appearing to be a thing abhorrent tothem.

  The first thing that became apparent when the boys and the miner threwback the cheesecloth door of their tent that kept out the horde ofmosquitos in the early morning was the absolute silence of the forest. Thesix Indians had taken one of the two boats, and with the dog had silentlydrifted away during the night down the current of Gold.