WITHIN THE WIGWAM
Jack Carleton walked to the flapping deerskin which closed the
entrance to the wigwam, flung it aside, and, stooping slightly,
stepped within. Looking into the face of Wish-o-wa-tum, he made a
half military salute and, straightening up, called out:
"How do you do, brother?"
The etiquette of the visitor required him to advance and offer his
hand, but he was afraid to do so while in doubt as to the sentiments
of the chief. The young Kentuckian recalled an instance somewhat
similar to the present, wherein a Huron warrior, grasping the hand
of the white man who offered it, suddenly drew him forward and
plunged his hunting-knife into his side.
The unexpected visit of Jack produced a sensation amounting, for the
moment, almost to consternation. For the first time the squaw showed
genuine surprise. Snapping the pipe from her mouth, she threw up her
head with a grunt, and stared at the athletic youth. The kicking baby
on the hearth appeared to understand that something unusual was going
on, and held arms and legs still, while he stared, with his round
black eyes, toward the figure at the other end of the lodge.
Man-not-Afraid-of-Thunder turned his head, holding his pipe in hand,
and looked inquiringly at the visitor. He showed no signs of fear,
but, manifestly, he was astonished. His fragmentary conversation
with the other boy had given him no cause to look for such a call,
though he saw at a glance that the two were friends.
Otto Relstaub beamed with delight. With an expanse of smile second
only to that of which the sachem was capable, he rose partly to his
feet and, looking at Jack, called out:
"Mine gracious! Jack, I didn't look for nodings of you pefore, as
dot ish--"
"Hold on!" interposed the lad at the door, with a laugh and wave of
the hand, "sit down and compose yourself till you can talk
straighter than that."
"I dinks I does--yaw," muttered the happy fellow, willing to do
anything suggested by his companion; "but come in and sot down."
While addressing Otto, Jack kept his eyes on Wish-o-wa-tum, for it
may be said he was the key of the situation. If he showed hostility,
trouble was sure to follow. Jack half expected to see him make a
leap for his bow or rifle, or attempt to draw his tomahawk.
If he does thought the boy, "I'll raise my gun first, and he will
understand what that means."
But the looks and manner of the host (if such he may be called) were
neither hostile nor friendly; they were indifferent, as though the
whole business possessed no interest to him. After his first
surprised stare, he swung his head back to its former position and
slowly smoked his pipe as before.
Jack Carleton made up his mind on the moment that his true course
was to carry out his first idea that is, to act as though there was
no doubt of the friendship of the Osage.
Stepping to the left, he set his gun on the ground with the muzzle
leaning against the side of the lodge. No more expressive sign of
comity could have been given than this simple act. He then advanced
to the beefy, stolid chieftain, to whom he offered his hand,
repeating the words:
"How do you do, brother?"
Wish-o-wa-tum took the fingers in his own immense palm, and gave
them a moderate pressure. Though it might have been called a warm
salute, it sent a shiver through the youth, who unconsciously braced
himself against any sudden pull of the savage, his other hand, at
the same time, vaguely seeking the handle of his knife.
But, whatever thoughts or intentions may have stirred the massive
chieftain, they gave no evidence of their nature in his face. He
looked up at the boy, and, as he slightly wabbled the hand within
his own, said:
"How do, brudder?"
Jack then turned about and greeted Otto, who could scarcely contain
himself. The movement, it will be noticed, placed the back of the
former toward the chief, and he was conscious of another chill
running up and down his spine; for no better opportunity could be
given the Indian to strike one of those treacherous, lightning-like
blows peculiar to the savage races.
"Keep your eye on him," said Jack, in an undertone, while shaking
the hand of Otto, and both were talking loud and effusively.
Otto nodded his head and winked, to signify he caught on, and did
not check, for a single moment, his rattling flow of talk. Jack, in
the most natural manner, shifted his position to one side, so he was
able to look upon every one in the wigwam without the appearance of
any special object in doing so.
The great point with the callers was to secure the good-will of the
savages. It may seem shrewd on their part, but any boy, no matter
what his age, knows that the surest way to win the friendship of a
household is to magnify the importance of the baby.
The thought occurred to Otto long before, and more than once he
explored his garments in search of some present for the youngster;
but he possessed nothing that would answer. His pockets were empty
of anything in the shape of coin, bright medals, buttons, or
playthings of any sort likely to attract the eye of the aboriginal
American infant.
He might have handed his hunting-knife to him, but more than likely,
in his blind striking and kicking, he would gouge out an eye or
attempt to scalp himself, and then the mother would turn upon the
donor in her wrath. Otto considered the project of borrowing the
tomahawk of the chief and passing it over to the heir, but feared he
would knock out his own brains or do something desperate, by which
retribution would be visited on the head of Otto.
But Jack Carleton was more fortunate, for in the pocket of his
trousers was an English shilling, worn smooth and shining with the
friction to which it had been long subjected. It was just the thing
to catch the eye of any baby, no matter what its nativity, and he
stepped hastily forward and handed it to the one before him.
The movement interested the parents scarcely less than the child.
They watched Jack closely. The little fellow snatched the bright
coin in his snuffling, awkward fashion, and, when it was clutched in
his fingers, made a furious shove, intending to drive it into his
mouth.
"Hold on," called Jack, in alarm; "I didn't give it to you to eat; I
don't believe you can digest it."
Just then the little fellow began to kick, cough, and fling himself
harder than ever. The mother sprang forward with an exclamation in
her native tongue, and, catching her baby in her arms, began
manipulating him in the most original fashion. Standing upright in
the middle of the wigwam, she inverted him, and, holding him by the
heels, worked him up and down, as though he were the dasher of a
chum.
"If she don't do dot a leedle harder his head vill bounce off,"
remarked Otto.
The shilling flew from the throat of the baby, and Jack, thinking it
had done enough harm, scooped over to pick it up; but, before he
could lay hands on it, the mother snatched it from the ground and
shoved it into one of the capacious receptacles of her dress.
Evidently she identified the coin and knew its value.
"All right," laughed Jack; "I'll be glad to have you keep it, if it
will help to buy your friendship for us."
During this stirring episode, and when the boys feared the heir of
the wigwam was likely to choke himself to death, the father never
ceased smoking, his pipe. His piggish eyes were turned sideways, as
though he thought the performance worth looking at; but, beyond
that, he did not disturb himself.
The infant, after his unpleasant experience, seemed to be as well as
ever, and being tumbled back on the bison skin resumed his kicking
and, crowing, as though seeking to make up for lost time.
The occurrence produced an effect on Jack Carleton similar to that
caused by the sight of the expansive smile of the Osage chieftain:
he felt that no dangerous ill-will could exist wigwam which was the
scene of the incident.
The boys resumed their seats beside each other, where the other
occupants of the lodge were in sight all the time, and then spoke
with freedom.
"I don't think they will offer any harm," Jack, alluding, of
course, to the squaw and the warrior. "I suspect he is an Osage."
"Yaw--dot ish vot he tolds me," said Otto carefully weighing his
words.
"What else did he tell you? But, first of all, let me know how you
came to be his guest."
Thereupon the German related, in his own fashion, the story which
long since became familiar to the reader. Jack Carleton listened
with much interest, glancing from the husband to the wife and back
again, with an occasional look at the baby, that had become so
motionless as to show that he was asleep.
"So you didn't get anything to eat?" remarked the young Kentuckian;
"when I first saw you here I thought you were after food. I am
hungry, but I think the best thing we can do is to leave the lodge."
"Vy not stays till mornings?"
"It might do; but I'm a little too nervous to sleep, for there can
be no certainty about them. I hunted around for other lodges, but
found none, and yet there may be plenty not far off. He may have
visitors, and, if they find us here, there's no telling what they
will do."
"What for you leave your gun ober dere just as I does mit mine?"
"It struck me that that was the best way to show the old fellow that
not only was I friendly myself, but that I took him to be a friend."
"Dot ish so; but it would be as nice as nefet vos if bofe of our
guns had us."
"I will get mine."
"Mebbe he won't lets you."
"I'm almost as close to it as he; I can take a step or two before he
will see what I mean to do, and then, if he undertakes to stop me,
he will be too late."
"Vot musn't I does?"
"Attend to the squaw: if she makes a dive after me, you grab and
hold her."
"Yaw," was the hesitating response of Otto, who saw what unpleasant
phases the situation was likely to assume.
Before Jack Carleton rose to his feet, he discovered that something
extraordinary was going on in the lodge. Although the chief was
sitting in his lazy attitude, yet his senses were on the alert and
some sort of telegraphy was passing between him and his wife. Both
continued smoking their pipes and did not speak nor move their
bodies. Any one unable to see their faces would not suspect they
were looking at each other.
But they were not only doing so, but, singular as it may seem, were
sending messages mainly by means of the smoke issuing from their
dusky lips. It was puffed forth, in every variety of manner,
sometimes with little short jets, then with longer ones, then from
one corner of the mouth and again from the other, all being
accompanied by a contortion of the flexible lips which doubtless
suggested some of the words in the minds of the two.
"That's very strange," said Jack, in an undertone, after he and Otto
had watched the performance several minutes.
"Yaw, dot ish vot I dinks."
"Why do they affect all that mystery? If they want to say anything
to each other, why not speak in their own tongue? Neither of us can
understand the first word."
"But they doesn't knows dot."
"They ought to know it. However, we can't guess what they're
talking about, though I would give much to know."
Husband and wife were quick to observe they were under scrutiny, but
they continued the curious interchange of thoughts for some time
longer. By and by they ceased and seemed be doing nothing beside
smoking; Carleton was right in his belief that the sachem had heard
something on the outside wigwam which greatly interested them.