THE INDIANS' AWAKENING
Little Running Cropped-eared Dog of the Stonies sat
smoking his red clay calumet at the narrow entrance of
the gorge that looked out upon the wooded hillside, the
only means of ingress to the shelf which constituted
Dorothy's prison-house. He was keeping watch and ward
with his good friend "Black Bull Pup," who also sat
smoking opposite him. Their rifles lay alongside; they
had finished a _recherche_ repast of roasted dog, and
were both very sleepy. It was a horrible nuisance having
to keep awake such a warm afternoon. No one was going to
intrude upon their privacy, for they had heard that the
British General, Middleton, was in hot pursuit after
Poundmaker, and it was unlikely that Jumping Frog, who
was over them, would trouble about visiting the sentries.
Little Running Cropped-eared Dog laid down his pipe and
folded his arms.
"Brother," he said to Black Bull Pup, with that easy
assumption of authority which characterised him, "there
is no necessity for us both to be awake. I would woo the
god of pleasant dreams, so oblige me by keeping watch
while my eyelids droop."
Bull Pup, who was a choleric little Indian, and, judging
by his finery, a tip-top swell in Indian upper circles,
looked up with an air of surprise and angry remonstrance.
"Brother," he replied, "the modest expression of your
gracious pleasure is only equalled by the impudence of
the prairie dog who wags his tail in the face of the
hunter before hastening to the privacy of his tepee
underground. You slept all this morning, O Cropped-eared
one! It is my turn now."
But Little Running Dog was renowned among the Stonies
for his wide knowledge of men and things. Moreover, he
loved ease above all, so, by reason of his imperturbability
and honeyed words, he invariably disarmed opposition and
had his own way. On the present occasion he said--
"Black Bull Pup will pardon me; he speaks with his
accustomed truthfulness and fairness of thought I had
for the moment forgotten how, when he took Black Plume
of the Sarcees prisoner, and was leading him back for
the enlivening knife and burning tallow, he watched by
him for four days and four nights without closing an eye,
thus earning for himself the distinction of being called
the 'Sleepless One.' There is no such necessity for his
keeping awake now. Let his dreams waft him in spirit to
the Happy Hunting Grounds. As for me, I am getting an
old man, whose arrow-hand lacks strength to pull back
the string of the bow. It can be but a few short years
before I enter upon the long, last sleep, so it matters
not Sleep, brother."
But Black Bull Pup, as is often the case, was tender of
heart as well as choleric, and hastened to say that his
venerable comrade must take some much-needed rest, so
that within five minutes the ugly Cropped-eared one was
making the sweet hush of the summer noon hideous with
his snores, whilst Black Bull Pup was beginning to wonder
if, after all, he had not been "got at" again by his
Machiavelian friend. It was not a pleasant reflection,
and it really was a very drowsy sort of afternoon. Four
minutes later he was sound asleep himself.
Slowly toiling up the stony, sun-dried bed of the tarn
came Pepin the dwarf, and alongside him, showing unusual
signs of animation--he had scented brother bears--came
Antoine. Behind them walked the unstable breed, Bastien
Lagrange, with a huge pack upon his back. The pack was
heavy and the hill was steep, so that the human beast of
burden perspired and groaned considerably. He also showed
much imagination and ingenuity in the construction of
strange words suitable to the occasion. Pepin's ears had
just been assailed by some extra powerful ones when he
turned to remonstrate.
"Grumbler and discontented one," he said, "have your long
legs grown weak at the knees because you are asked to
carry a few pennyweights on your back?"--the breed was
resting his several hundred pounds pack upon a rock--"Bah!
it is nothing compared to the load of things you will
have to carry and answer for when you have to appear
before the Great Court, when the bolt has been drawn and
you are launched into space through the prison trap-door,
and your toes go jumpety-jumpety-jump. Blockhead!"
"_Parbleu, M'sieur_ Pepin, _mais_ eet ees mooch dead
would be more better than this, I tink it! _Helas!_ how
my heart eet does go for to break! I would for to rest,
Pepin, my ver' dear frient."
"Then rest, weak-kneed one, and be sure afterwards to
come on. It is good I did leave the good mother with the
Croisettes down the river! _Au revoir_, pudding-head!"
Pepin held Antoine by the neck while he surveyed the
slumbering forms of Little Running Crop-eared Dog and
Black Bull Pup.
"_Mais_, they are beautiful children of the tepees," he
murmured. "It would be easy to kill, but that would not
be of the commandments. 'He who lives by the sword shall
perish by the sword.' No; no man's blood shall stain the
hands of Pepin Quesnelle. Ah! now I have it. So!"
If the dwarf drew the line at killing, he was still as
full of mischief as a human being could well be. He had
an impish turn of mind, and hastened to gratify the same.
He took the two rifles and at once proceeded to draw the
charges, then with a smartness and lightness of touch
that was surprising, he possessed himself of their
sheath-knives. He placed Antoine on its haunches between
them, and threatened him with dire vengeance if he moved.
He himself clambered on to a rock over their heads, at
the same time not forgetting to take a few stones in his
pockets. His eyes gleamed and rolled in his head, and
he chuckled in a truly alarming fashion. Then he dropped
a stone on to the pit of Black Bull Pup's stomach, and
the other on to the head of the Crop-eared one. Antoine
watched the proceedings with much interest.
Black Bull Pup sat up and was about to remonstrate angrily
with his comrade for having roused him so unceremoniously,
when the latter also raised himself full of the same
matter.
Their eyes fairly started from their heads and they were
nearly paralysed with horror when they beheld a huge bear
sitting within a few feet of them. It must be a very ogre
of a bear when it could sit there so calmly waiting for
them to awake before beginning operations. Pepin, unseen
on the rock above them, fairly doubled himself up with
delight. But they were both Indians who had borne
themselves with credit in former encounters with bears,
so, snatching up their rifles, they both fired at Antoine
at the same moment with a touching and supreme disregard
to the other's proximity. Antoine seemed interested.
There were two flashes in the pan, and two hearts sank
simultaneously. They searched for their knives in vain.
Antoine appeared amused and looked encouragement. It was
a very nightmare to the two warriors. Then, from the rock
over their heads, they heard a deep bass voice of such
volume that it sounded like half-a-dozen ordinary voices
rolled into one.
"_Canaille!_" it cried, "cut-throats! villains!
block-heads! pudding-heads! _mais_ you are nice men to
sleep at your posts; truly, that is so! Shall I make this
bear for to devour you? Eh? What?"
When the two men looked up and beheld the weird form of
Pepin perched on the rock, it nearly finished them. They
had heard of many strange monsters, but here was something
beyond their very wildest imaginings. Of course, this
bear was his attendant evil spirit, and it was a judgment
upon them. The Crop-eared one and the Black Bull Pup
grovelled in an agony of terror. Pepin never had such a
time. What would have happened it is hard to say had
not Bastien Lagrange appeared upon the scene. For Antoine,
imagining that the movements of the Indians were generously
intended as an invitation for him to indulge in frivolity,
at once reared himself on his hind legs preparatory to
dancing all over them. Pepin slid from the rock and called
his absent-minded friend to attention. Bastien came
forward wiping his forehead, declaring that he was all
but dead, and the two worthy savages rose wonderingly to
their feet The unstable breed, who at once took in the
situation, and, as usual, derived a secret pleasure from
observing the abject discomfiture of the Indians, at once
proceeded to explain to them that the strange gentleman
before them, whom they had mistaken for a celebrity from
the ghost world, was no other than the celebrated Pepin
Quesnelle, of whom they must have heard, and that the
bear, whose magnanimity and playfulness they had just
been witnesses of, was his equally distinguished friend
and counsellor. He also explained that, of course, no
one in the land ever questioned Pepin's right to do what
he liked or to go where he chose. There was no doubt
that, in a different sphere of life, Bastien would have
risen to eminence in diplomatic circles. The two warriors
having been handed back their knives, swore by the ghosts
of their illustrious grandfathers and grandmothers, that,
so far at least as they were concerned, the little but
mighty man, with his servant the bear, might go or come
just as he pleased. Pepin and Bastien left the two now
sleepless sentries at their posts, and passed through to
the great wide terrace that overlooked the Saskatchewan,
which, here describing a great half-circle, rushed like
a mill-race between vast gloomy walls of rock.
When they reached the camp in the hollow, Jumping Frog
came forward to meet them. Pepin he had heard of, but
had not seen before. It was quite evident he resented
his presence there. He turned angrily upon the breed,
whose joy at now having come to the end of his journey
received a decided check from the reception he met with
from the head man. Jumping Frog looked at Bastien
scornfully, and asked--
"Brother, did I not send you on a mission? and what is
this thing you have brought back?"
The unstable breed, whose mercurial condition was influenced
by every breath of wind, shook with apprehension, but
Pepin came to the rescue. To be called "a thing" by an
Indian was an insult that cut into the quick of his
nature. He had taken off his slouch hat, and was leaning
forward with his two hands grasping the long stick he
usually carried. Antoine was squatted meditatively on
his haunches alongside him. Pepin now drew himself up;
his face became transfigured with rage; he took a step
or two towards the head man, and shook his stick
threateningly.
"Black-hearted and cross-eyed dog of a Stony!" he fairly
screamed; "by the ghost of the old grey wolf that bore
you, and which now wanders round the tepees of the outcasts
in the land of lost spirits picking up carrion, would
you dare to speak of me thus! I have a mind to take the
maiden whom you now hold as a prisoner away from you,
but the time is not yet ripe. But I swear it, if you
molest her in any way, or speak of me again as you have
done, or interfere with my coming or going, you shall
swing by the neck on a rope, and your body shall be given
to the dogs. Moreover, your spirit shall wander for ever
in the Bad Lands, and the Happy Hunting Grounds shall
know you not."
"Ough! ough!" exclaimed Jumping Frog uneasily; "but you
use big words, little man! Still, there is something
about you that savours of big medicine, and I do not wish
to offend the spirits, so peace with you until this matter
rights itself." He turned to Lagrange. "And you, O one
of seemingly weak purpose, tell me what news of Poundmaker
and Thunderchild?"
What Bastien had to tell was not calculated to encourage
Jumping Frog in his high-handed policy. His face fell
considerably, and Pepin, taking advantage of his
preoccupation, walked off with Antoine to find Dorothy.
When the dwarf was looking into one of the tepees, Antoine
created quite a flutter of excitement by looking into
another on his own account When the four Indians who were
solemnly seated therein, handing round the festive pipe,
beheld a huge cinnamon bear standing in the doorway,
evidently eyeing them with a view to annexing the one in
best condition, they bolted indiscriminately through the
sides of the lodge, leaving Antoine in possession. But
when they gathered themselves together outside, they were
confronted by Pepin, whom they took to be some terrible
monster from the ghost world, and the last state of them
was worse than the first Pepin enjoyed their discomfiture
for a brief space, and then explained who he was and why
he came to honour them with his presence. Calling Antoine
off, he left them in a still more dubious and confused
state of mind.
He had wandered almost half-a-mile from the camp on to
the broken edge of the great canyon, where, nearly a
thousand feet below, the ice-cold waters of the mighty
Saskatchewan showed like a blue ribbon shot with white.
Right in front of him was infinite space, and the earth
fell away as if from the roof of the world. It seemed to
Pepin that he had never before so fully realised the
majesty of Nature. Standing on the edge of the nightmarish
abyss, with the Indian girl near her, he saw Dorothy.
Neither of them observed him, and he stood still for a
minute to watch them.
As he gazed at the slim, graceful figure of the white
prisoner in her neat but faded black dress, it seemed to
him that he had never realised how beautiful and perfect
a thing was the human form. He had only in a crude way
imagined possibilities in the somewhat squat figures of
the Indian girls. There was a distinction in the poise
of Dorothy's proud shapely head that he had never seen
before in any woman. When she turned and saw him, her
face lighting up with welcome and her hands going out in
front of her, he experienced something that came in the
light of a revelation. He wondered how it was he could
have ever said, "she will not do."