CHAPTER XXVI.
THE ALL-POWERFUL EMBLEM.
A loud noise was heard in the skirt of the woodland, of which the outerbrush came gently down to the opening of the vale, where the Pieganswere lodged. As the sound came nearer it assumed the dimensions of adownright tumult. Besides the clatter of hoofs, there was the bangingof heavy articles against the saplings, which sprang back angrily, thesquealing of mules, and many random shots of pistols and rifles. Thelatter made the Indians the more disquieted, as the screen of boughslong hid the cause.
At Red Knife's order all ran with their arms to the defences, whilstsome got their horses ready at a secret outlet, in case, this being anattack, they might rush round down upon their camp and pay them back intheir own coin.
Two young men were sent out as scouts, but they had hardly left beforea whole string of persons and animals emerged from the forest withgiddy rapidity. In the van was a mounted man, on a mare, who did not inthe least slacken his furious pace, though turning every little whileto fire his breech-loading rifle. He wore an Indian dress, and it wasreasonably surmised that he was a chief, but the distance and the dustthat sprang up from the alkali stretches among the scrub outside theforest prevented particulars being defined of his tribe, or even hisnation.
He was followed by a girl in a sort of pannier seat on a large fleetmule. A mantle enveloped her, but the wind flapped it back, sothat her sex was discernible as far as her attire and her mode ofriding revealed. Behind her, separated by such varied spaces as thedifferences in their speed under burdens apportioned, six or eightbeasts of burden rushed. As in their mad course through the woods theirpacks had been knocked about, pulled partly off, slewed to one sideor under the bellies, or even trailing after by the lashings, everynow and then one would be brought to a sudden stop, or hurled intoa natural pithole half full of decayed leaves and melting snow. Thesquallings would redouble at these disasters.
After these fugitives upwards of a dozen horsemen came racing. Somewaved lariats, or snapped whips, to cow the runaways into a pause, orto swerve from blindly following the leaders; some were using theirguns at the foremost of this queer procession. But, though they stoppedto take aim, they were not so expert or fortunate as he. The pursuerswere Red River Half-breeds.
The pack animals did not clear the wood; the scrub was more entanglingthan the large growth, and they, at all events, were captured as theystruggled after their harness was caught.
The two fugitives, on debouching upon the open ground, were in extremeperil. They had the river to cross under fire. Nevertheless, they didnot seem discouraged. At least, the dark-complexioned man drove thelady's mule into the water, and halting himself on the bank crest,fired five shots almost as quickly as one into the line of pursuers,of which each emptied a saddle. The remainder howled with rage, and,forced to stop among the riderless and plunging steeds, discharged alltheir guns at the daring coverer of the girl's crossing.
The latter brandished his repeating rifle around his head, as if hiswarriorlike exultation was uncontrollable; an act alone denouncinghim as no pure white. He then jabbed his heels into the flanks of themare, which leaped in a beautiful curve into the river. In the leap heuttered a war cry new to that region:
"_Wo!-O-whoo-whoo!_" and it still resounded when he reappeared abovethe surface after the plunge.
The mule was floundering, the girl clinging to it with nail and tooth,so to say. But the mare, being directed to a shelving part of the otherbank, the mule whinnied, and hurried to climb out also.
The two galloped on towards the Piegan encampment at full speed,letting the muddy water drip off them as it pleased. On seeing theIndians watching them, the horseman, whose buffalo robe had been washedaway in the stream, shouted in a high, clear voice in Algonquin, themost generally understood language among the pure Indians north:
"A brother!"
"Ho, ho, ho!" roared the Piegans, clapping their hands joyfully.
Red Knife dashed out of the shelter, having gazed with admiration ontheir bold, brave flight, and neat shooting at full speed. At theannouncement of the new arrival, he waved his mantle in the sign ofwelcome, and called,
"Come to our bosom!"
The two fugitives dashed up the gentle slope to the camp ingress.
In the meantime, the pursuers, having secured the pack animals and theriderless horses, as well as seen to the wounded, came on apace, havingmomentarily lost sight of their objects. On crossing the frothy streamthey beheld them cantering into the Piegan camp. They were convulsedwith impotent rage as they pulled up smartly. Slowly they continuedtheir march, only five of them now.
But as fifty Indians mounted and rode out from the entrenchments, theystopped afresh to consult. At length one rode out of the mass and madethe sign of peace. There was no reply for two or three minutes. But theHalf-breed was not to be so easily disheartened, and making the signagain, cried out in Chinook that he was a friend of the red man, whorequested a hearing of their rulers.
It was Red Knife, who haughtily demanded the grounds for his request.
"'Tis an important matter for the chief's own ear."
"Good! Let the hunter wait," and measured off on the sky so manyminutes with his forefinger.
The parleyers were forced to submit. But they were galled on perceivingwhy the delay was imposed. Some forty of the Piegans, stealing out ofthe secret gate, had gone over the river and were about surrounding thewounded men and the lassoed horses. The Red River Rovers gazed at oneanother "like crabs in a net," all eyes protruding; but knowing thekind of folk they were dealing with, they had to pretend tranquillity.
As soon as Red Knife believed that his instructions were consummated,he waved his hand to the parleyer, who was eyeing him anxiously.
"My friends are welcome. Let four of them come into the camp unarmed."
All resistance was useless. One solitary Half-breed was left in chargeof the five horses and his comrades' arms on the river brink. Allhe could do, if the others were treacherously murdered, was make abreastwork of the quadrupeds and fire away to his last shot, and thenbe slain.
Red Knife and his lieutenants received the crestfallen Canadianscourteously, and conducted them silently to the council fire. There thePiegans sat down and invited their guests to do likewise. During thelong silence that ensued the entrapped ones looked well about them. Thetwo fugitives had shaken themselves reasonably dry, exchanged their wetouter garments for dry ones and were warming themselves at the priests'holy fire in the medicine lodge, where the totem pole was standingsentry, so to say, over the tribal ark within.
"Why have the palefaces come into my camp?" inquired the Piegan atlength, in a stern voice. "What is the news for us? There is no commontie between the palefaces and the Blackfeet."
The tone, like the question, was not amicable. Moreover, the huntershad noticed that the pipe had not been offered them, so that they knewthey were being treated as enemies, not as mere strangers even.
The leader of the Red River Half-breeds was their captain himself.He was supported by David Steelder, to whom Kidd has alluded as anundesirable acquaintance, whilst Margottet was guarding the horses andweapons as one in a most trustworthy and ticklish post.
Steelder was a stout, herculean fellow, with flaming red hair andbeard, though his eyes were dark. But they so squinted, and shiftedtheir point of view so frequently, that most would not have remarkedthis incompatibility. He alone looked round on the red men with theidle curiosity of one whose brain was congested or softening.
Dagard was too learned in Indian ways not to appreciate the hostilityof the reception. But he was fearless, cunning, and accustomed to meetemergencies without flinching.
"I have walked into the Piegan camp to sit at the council fire," hesaid, firmly, "and put in a request that my red brothers are not thefools to throw aside hastily."
"The Piegans are wise, and they can judge anything laid before them,"responded Red Knife, emphatically.
"I know very well what the Piegans are li
ke," went on Dagard, whoplaced no faith whatever in them. "They are wise warriors, and toclaim justice, when prairie law is infringed, is to get it."
The chiefs bowed; it was flattering to be taken for arbitrators, and,besides, the prairie and mountain arbitrator is entitled to takepayment out of the property in dispute. So l'Embarrasseur continued asjauntily as if he felt secure now.
"I have so great a confidence in my red brother that I have put asideall to a toothpick to come right in among ye. Besides, there's no bloodfeud between the Half-breeds of Manitoba and the Blackfeet nation thatever I heard of. The hatchet never was used against either in theother's hand. Why, then, should I want to sit down with the knife inmy girdle, as you carry yours? If I had been your foe--why, I have agood crowd left after a hot brush with the Crows that would have beenentirely rubbed out but for the blizzard breaking up the evening'samusement; but I haven't come in any force. I knew perfectly well thatI was meeting friends."
There was a silence. The Indians were clearly aware that the Canadianhad been a tough bone for Ahnemekee, and that the remainder of histroop was not despicable. They had not Winchester rifles such as thatwhich so rapidly disposed of half its owner's pursuers, and hoped nosuch rare fortune.
"This is the point," concluded Dagard, with an angry glance at thegirl and her defender at the sacred fire of the sanctuary, "my men andI, on the open ground, captured that white woman and some stampededanimals that followed her mule; when in cut this renegade Half-breed,on a mare that called away her mule, and away went the whole outfit,helter-skelter. A stampede is fair enough--but not treachery. Eitherthis Half-breed stands up for one colour or the other--red or white. Ifhe hunts with the red, why, I am red. The Red River Half-breeds neveryet held for the King George's, or the Yankees. And he should have letmy prizes alone. Or, if he is a friend to the whites, either those goldseekers or the mountain trappers, he is our foe. I claim the girl, Iclaim the mongrel whom no race owns. My brother shall decide. That's mysay."
All eyes were turned towards the fugitive, who was now carelesslyleaning against the totem pole. The girl trembled with cold; he wassteady as the staff itself. The sachem beckoned him thither, and darteda suspicious glance on him, inasmuch as, Half-breed for Half-breed,there was nothing to vary the scales between them.
"There is an accusation, brother. What is the defence?" he asked.
The other smiled scornfully, but making an effort over himself, heanswered railingly, "In the land of my forefathers the mockingbirdwas often heard, but I little thought to hear its deceitful voicehereabouts. To what tribe does this patchwork man belong that he daresclass me with such as he? I am a Sagamore! But look at his skin--is itwhite, is it red, is it even yellow? Can he name his father among menrenowned in battle? Can he name his mother? Some white thief, kickedout of the frontier whisky room, and some squaw who hangs round theports, these were his progenitors, and they shrank from owning him!By what right does he raise his voice in a council of dog soldiers,elders, hallowed men who have been initiated in the inner circle ofsecrets handed down from days when, from the White Ridge yonder tothe Blue Ridge (the Alleghenies) there, none but pure red men trodthe warpath, and fished and hunted. Because he commands a string ofcurs. My nation is the ghost of what it was, but we can whip the RedRiver mongrels any day! We are the Cherokees! I am a first chief amongthem--I am _Quorinnah_, the Raven, and I wear the treasured Totem!"
So speaking, with a voice that grew thunderous with pride, BillWilliams, for this was the man, ripped off the wet woollen shirtcovering his breast to the waist belt. On his bosom was tattooed the"Great Round O," as the ignorant call it, which, however, by its rays,signifies the Sun. It was traced in pitch pine soot pricked in andonly the high-class Cherokee, the very inspired one, _Cheer a dagee_,or "fire filled," are so tattooed. If by chance any foolish or wickedyoung man attempted even a rude imitation, the elders would scrub themarks out of his skin with green corn juice to the very quick, and thenhe might think he had got off lightly for the sacrilege.
The sun is an emblem understood and respected almost all over the twoAmericas.
"A Son of the Sacred Fire!" cried the chiefs, bowing with reverence.
"Cherokee Bill, the mate of Jim Ridge the mountain man," sneered Dagard.
"Yes, I am the Cherokee. My father was made a chief of the nationbefore me. If ever I come to the stake, and I am bled to the lastdrop in my body, nothing will have issued but red blood! Well, I amthousands of miles from the home and graves of my fathers--am I amongbrothers or foes?"
Red Knife rose and bowed to the speaker, answering:
"We have heard none but a Cherokee speak. The place of the Sagamore isin my stead. Let him command at the council fire, and all that heresurround us will obey him to the letter. Wisdom is in the Son of Fire,and the Great Spirit loves him. To no one need he give an account ofhis doings."
With a dignity that struck all beholders, the Cherokee sat in theplace Red Knife vacated, and lifting his hand to entreat silence, saidgravely?
"I thank my brother for not having required any explanation from me;but my tongue is not forked, and my honour exacts my Piegan sons beingjudges between this Canadian and me. The young woman whom you seeyonder was the captive of the gold seekers, commanded by Captain Kidd,whose name smells bad in the nose of honest Indians on the border.She escaped on the mule, and fell across the path of these Red RiverRovers. Yes, she would have been their fair capture if they wereindependent. But that's not so. They are allied with Captain Kidd, andthis detachment was going to join him when they met the fugitive. Beingone and the same, any enemy had the right to cut in and cut out theprize. I did so. Who is in the right? He?"
"No!" responded the unanimous voice.
"Will he even deny my statement?"
Dagard, insolently enough and impudently, too, considering he had noweapons, was chatting with his three adherents.
"He cannot deny."
"Your conduct is right. The traitors are these Red River Half-breeddogs, for allying themselves with a bandit who respects neither red norwhite, and then comes to a redskin camp and asks help and favour asbeing a red man himself."
"Go!" said Cherokee Bill, with scorn so withering that the Indians didnot regret the four scalps thus rejected, and Dagard felt no joy at thedeliverance. "Should your feet take root here, you will be trees cutdown for the night fire! The girl is free! Until you cross that stream,you are neither foe nor friend, merely dogs kicked out of camp! Go, itis a chief that speaks."
The Embarrasseur seemed too much embarrassed himself this time toeven lift his head. Steelder squinted horribly as he shrunk pastthe Cherokee. The four Canadians hastened to join the lieutenant,impatiently holding the horses, and, mounting rapidly, they rushed overthe river. The Piegan party had contented themselves with examining thepack animals, the dead and wounded, under orders in some way signalledto them by the sun flash code. The Half-breeds put the wounded on thebeasts of burden and dolefully returned to their camp.