Chapter Twenty-Second.
Return to the family of Mr. Duncan. Lewis and his father succeed ingetting back to camp. The effect the capture of the children producedon the health of Mr. and Mrs. Duncan. Cole and the chief reach the campof the Arapahoes. Their surprise. They continue their course to Mr.Duncan's camp. Joy at the news they bring. They start again for thewest. Thirty Arapahoes accompany them. They arrive at the SierraNevada.
Having followed our wanderers through many exceedingly trying anddifficult scenes, since they became separated from the rest of thefamily and were lost in the deep and dreary desert, to the hospitablefireside of the curate beyond the Sierra Nevada where they again metwith the comforts of civilized life, we will leave them for the presentand return to the family of Mr. Duncan. The last we saw of Mr. Duncanand Lewis was in the battle with the Crows; but they succeeded inmaking their escape, and finally returned to their camp, only, however,to convey the sorrowful intelligence of the sad fate of all who hadgone out to the rescue except himself and Lewis. This sad eventconfined him to a bed of sickness from which he arose after many weeksof suffering, with feeble and tottering steps, and locks whitened bysuffering. Grief had done what time had not--it had made him old andgrey.
Mrs. Duncan submitted meekly to the terrible blow; but the elasticityof her step was gone, the light from her eye, and the usual glad smilefrom her lips had disappeared. Had her children sickened and died, shecould have laid them away in the grave, with the consoling thought,that all must lay there at last. But the harassing idea of the torturethey would be subjected to, and the terrible death they must at lastsuffer, if indeed they still lived, was a constant source of agony toher.
"If I only knew that they were dead and at rest, I would be content;but, alas! I fear they still live!" she often said to herself, and thenthe throbbings of her heart would not be still. Poor mother! herthoughts made her life a torture of the deepest intensity.
Lewis would not believe they were dead, and had devoted the whole timeof their absence in wandering from tribe to tribe, in his endeavors togain some information of them. Once he heard there were some whitepersons captive in a distant Indian village, but he could not learn thename of the tribe, or in what part of the vast western wilds they werelocated. Twice he had been through to Oregon in hopes of obtaining aclue to their whereabouts, but heartsick had returned only to sink thealready drooping spirits of his parents still lower. Mr. Duncan hadremoved his family farther east, where he would be less liable to beannoyed by hostile Indians, and there taking up his abode determined toawait until he could learn the fate of his children.
Cole and the chief travelled with great rapidity. They were inured tohardship from infancy, and with nothing to impede their progress,sometimes riding, and sometimes walking, the fourth week out they cameto the Arapahoe village in the evening just as the shades of night weredrawing to the lodges, the men, women, and children who had scatteredthemselves during the day through the forest. The chieftain's eyekindled as the old familiar faces passed before him, and his breastheaved with pride us he read in their cheerful steps and careless waysthe security and prosperity of his tribe. Cole and the chief werestanding in the shadow of a large chesnut tree, which protected themfrom observation, but from which they saw all that was passing in thevillage without being seen. Gradually the Arapahoes seated themselveson the bank of a small stream in little groups, and then the chief sawwho it was that had succeeded him in command--it was his bestfriend--the brave and good Eagle.
"Stay here, till I return," whispered the chief to Cole, and thenfolding his arms over his brawny chest, he walked with a proud stepinto their midst. Every tongue seemed to be paralyzed, every limbnerveless, as they, with horror depicted on their swarthy faces, sawhim approaching.
At last one old man slowly arose and stretching his long bony handtoward him, said--"Does not our chief rest well in the spirit land,that he comes back to his people again? or does he come to warn us ofdanger?"
"The Arapahoes have forgotten their chief," said Whirlwind, bitterly.
"No, no: not forgotten him!" cried a young girl--his sister--boundinginto the circle, and throwing herself, into his arms.
"The Singing-Bird does not forget," said the chief, holding her tightlyin his embrace.
"We did not forget, but thought you dead!" they all cried, after fairlyrecovering from their panic. The Eagle was one of the first to give hima hearty welcome back, and as he did so, he laid his plume on thereturned chieftain's head--thus resigning his title and authority.
"No, keep it yet for awhile," returned Whirlwind, "I must leave you fora time." He then explained the disasters that had befallen them, and,finally, his self-imposed duty in uniting the severed family.
The Indians never do a generous act by piecemeal. They are either warmfriends or bitter enemies, knowing no medium between the two. They willlay down their lives to serve a friend, and murder a friend's enemy forthe same reason, although they have never seen him before, andpersonally have no animosity towards him. The Arapahoes applauded thenoble design of their chief, and furnished fresh horses to him andCole, with which to accomplish the distance to the frontier, where Mr.Duncan and his companions were.
Mr. Duncan and family were seating themselves at their evening meal, asthe two horseman halted at the door. A glance was sufficient to tellthem one was a stranger, and the other--could it be?--was the Arapahoechief, who was taken captive with his lost ones! They all with oneimpulse started for the door, but Mrs. Duncan, too overcome withanxiety, stood trembling, pale and speechless, leaning on a chair, fromwhich she had just arisen. Mr. Duncan reached the door, but the wordshe would have spoken died on his lips, as Lewis bounded past him, andgrasping the chiefs arm convulsively, cried--"Do _they_ live!--speak,if you would not see _them_ die!" pointing to his father and mother--"dothey live?"
"All live!" said the chief; and as the words fell from his lips, a cryof joy and gladness resounded from the chastened hearts of the family.The certainty that the lost ones still lived, though they yet knew notwhere nor under what circumstances, roused their enervated energies,nerved their limbs and called back the healthful flush to the cheek,and the light of joy to their eyes.
"To be sure they are well," said Cole to their inquiries, "and we havecome all the way from the Sierra Nevada mountains to bring you thenews, and take you to them."
"Yes, yes; we will go. To-morrow we will be on the road to see them,"said Mrs. Duncan.
"Not so fast as that," returned Cole; "I lost all my traps by thered-skins, and must collect some more. Besides, you need morepreparation than could be made in that time, or you will fall intosavage hands the second time."
"Let it be a week, then; we can be ready in that time," said Mr.Duncan. Their wanderings were recounted by Whirlwind, and when he hadconcluded, Mrs. Duncan's joy was nearly turned to sorrow, for fear theyhad not escaped the dangers of the Sierra. Accordingly, theirarrangements were made to set out after a week's preparation. Mr.Duncan's equipments being nearly the same as those with which he hadstarted two years before, when his journey was so unfortunatelyinterrupted. Their destination now was somewhat different than what itwas then; their only object being to recover their lost children. Colehad given such glowing descriptions of the country west of the Sierrathat they thought it probable they should settle there; still, this wasa minor consideration with them.
They reached the Arapahoe village in safety, where they found thirty oftheir warriors ready to accompany them as a guard. Their love anddevotion to their chief prompted them to this disinterested act. Theywere all well mounted on half-tamed prairie horses,--their swarthyforms fantastically painted, and their heads and tunics adorned withshells, beads, and feathers, which gave them a wild, grotesque, but notunbecoming appearance. This was their gala costume, prepared after themost approved Indian style, and France never looked upon her sovereignwith more pride when decked in his costliest regal vestments, than thistribe of savages did upon these thirty warriors, that the whole villag
ehad been laid under contribution to decorate in befitting pomp for thisoccasion. It is unnecessary to follow them minutely as they progressedin their journey. Suffice it that their guard protected them from thedepredations of other Indians, and at the same time kept them suppliedwith meat and fish in abundance, cleared the path when obstructed, anddaily rendered invaluable service to the emigrants. On reaching theSierra, they were shown another pass by some Indians they met with,which was less dangerous, although farther over, and quite as toilsomein crossing.