CHAPTER VIII.

THE YANKEE ON HIS MUSCLE.

The warriors sent out by Red Pine to capture Snowdrop had not returned

to the Sioux camp, neither had those sent after the brave scout and his

companion, whom he had rescued from torture; and, as might naturally be

expected, the Sioux chief was getting very anxious about them.

He did not dream that every one of both parties were dead, for he had

not been present to see the scout and Jehiel shoot down the five who

went after them, nor did he know that those who had gone in pursuit of

Snowdrop had met the party of Pawnees who had captured her, and had all

been sent on a pilgrimage to the other world.

Had he known this, his anxiety would have been still greater. He seemed

destined to misfortunes and disappointments at every turn, and now a

new disaster had befallen him:

The morning after the rescue of Jehiel he had looked in vain for his

other white prisoner, Curtiss. No one could tell where he had gone.

"Who guarded the pale-face?" he demanded.

"It was I," replied a young brave, as he stepped out before his chief.

Without a word the Sioux chief raised his hatchet, and sunk it to the

eye in the brain of the warrior, who fell dead at his feet.

An old warrior approached him, and said:

"Nulela, the sister of Red Pine, is gone!"

Somehow or other he could not help connecting the sudden disappearance

of his sister with the escape of the white prisoner.

"Did any one see them go?" he asked.

There was no response.

Turning to Gray Eagle, he said:

"Dog of a Blackfoot, do you know any thing of this? Speak quick, before

I kill you!"

"The Sioux is very brave when he can kill a man who is hurt and bound,"

replied Gray Eagle. Then he continued: "I did see the Sioux girl go

away with the pale-face captive."

"Which way did they go?" demanded the Red Pine.

"If the Sioux is a great brave, as he pretends to be, he can find their

trail. Gray Eagle is glad they are gone!"

Red Pine gave up the task of acquiring any information from the

Blackfoot chief, and at once the whole camp were searching for the

fugitives. In a short time they found it and followed it to the creek,

where it was lost.

Unremittingly they searched, up and down on both sides, but could find

no trace after it entered the water, and after searching several hours

were obliged to give it up.

Of course Red Pine was very angry when they returned to camp and

announced their failure.

And now a new danger beset him.

A scout came in with the intelligence that a large party of strange

Indians were approaching. Whether friendly or not, he could not tell.

Red Pine had his warriors all mounted and ready for them, should they

be friends or foes. He stationed a warrior beside the old chief, Gray

Eagle, with instructions to start for the country of the Sioux, should

they be obliged to give battle to the strangers.

The strange Indians were soon in sight, and halted within a hundred

yards. Their leader then rode to the middle of the space, and stopping,

signified to Red Pine that he wanted to talk with him.

The Sioux chief rode out to meet him, alone and unarmed, as was the

stranger. The stranger was the first to break silence, which he did by

demanding:

"Who are you?"

"I am Red Pine--"

"A Sioux?" interrupted the first.

"Yes, a chief of the Sioux! Why do you ask?"

"Is the great chief of the Blackfeet with you?"

"Gray Eagle, the Blackfoot chief, is the prisoner of Red Pine," he

answered. "But who are you that asks?"

"I am White Wolf, the great chief of the Pawnees, and I want your

prisoner!"

The mention of the name, Pawnee, struck a chill to the heart of Red

Pine; for it is a fact that nearly all the western Indians stand in

wholesome fear of them, and would as soon meet a spirit of evil as a

Pawnee. I can not say why this is so, but give it as the facts in the

case.

Red Pine saw that the affair was assuming rather a formidable shape,

yet he did not feel disposed to give it up so.

"Why does my brother want the Blackfoot chief?" he asked.

"White Wolf has promised to bring him to his daughter, the Snowdrop,

then she is to be my wife."

"Does White Wolf know where Snowdrop is now?"

"Yes, she is in the camp of White Wolf, among the hills."

"Did the Pawnee see any of the Sioux warriors when he found her?"

"Yes," replied White Wolf, and he chuckled to himself as he continued,

"they will never return to their chief!"

"Why so?" asked Red Pine.

"Because their scalps hang in the belts of my warriors, as yours will

soon, if you do not give up the chief, Snowdrop's father!"

Were all the plans of Red Pine to be frustrated in this way, after he

had come so far, and been to so much trouble? Were the fond hopes he

had entertained when leaving the village of his people to be lost now,

when they were so near realization? Must he give up the main object of

his mission, and go back without the Blackfoot maiden?

Impossible! He would die first! So he said:

"Gray Eagle is my prisoner, and the Pawnee can not have him!"

Without a word White Wolf turned and rode toward his band, and Red Pine

returned to his warriors.

White Wolf was a big, fat, burly Indian, who has since become quite

well known on the plains as the meanest beggar of them all; one who

will steal a blanket or murder a white man for the sake of a drink of

whisky. He has became very much demoralized since the time we first met

him, demanding the prisoner of the Sioux chief.

Red Pine is not much better, though much younger. He was never known

to do an act of kindness, and was by nature cruel and vindictive. Each

were, and still are, a type of their respective tribes.

Neither were disposed to wait very long. Red Pine because he was

in haste to have it over, believing that he would be the victor,

notwithstanding the foe with whom he had to deal was no common one.

White Wolf was in a hurry for the same reasons, and also because he was

in haste to secure Snowdrop for a wife, as he had no doubt he would.

Both were destined to learn that disappointment is the lot of mankind.

The battle was commenced by the Pawnees discharging a shower of arrows

at the Sioux. Then the Sioux returned the compliment, and thus they

continued for nearly an hour, not seeming to make much headway, or to

cause any very great slaughter. They did yelling enough, however, for

an army of twenty thousand men, and this, by the way, is the manner of

Indian fighting generally.

Usually, one party or the other will run before that time, but in

this case both of the leaders had too much at stake--both wanted the

Blackfoot girl.

The warrior who had been left to guard Gray Eagle had taken his captive

and started off at the first round between the opposing forces.

This movement had not escaped the notice of the Pawnee chief, and he

immediately started two of his warriors to intercept the Sioux, and

recapture Gray Eagle. In this movement they were quite successful; the

fact being that the Sioux guard deserted his prisoner as soon as he

found himself pursued--believing, no doubt, that discretion was the

better part of valor.

His new captors conducted Gray Eagle to a position where he could watch

the progress of the battle, then one of them returned to take a part in

the, thus far, bloodless war, and to inform his chief, White Wolf, of

their success.

Then White Wolf resolved to strike his death-blow, and giving the order

to charge, they swept down upon the Sioux, and a hand-to-hand fight

ensued.

But it was of short duration, for the Sioux soon broke and fled for

their lives.

The Pawnees did not pursue them very far, as they had secured what they

came after, and were now ready to return to their camp.

Gray Eagle was not very well pleased when he learned into whose hands

he had now fallen, for he, too, dreaded the Pawnees.

White Wolf saluted his prisoner kindly and said:

"I have rescued Gray Eagle from the hands of the Sioux squaws, and when

Snowdrop sees him safe she will consent to be the wife of White Wolf."

"Does the chief know where Snowdrop is?" asked the chief.

"In the camp of White Wolf, a day's ride from here," was the reply.

"How came she there?" demanded the old chief.

"White Wolf found her upon the big plain toward the village of the

Blackfeet. Let us go."

Gray Eagle knew the utter uselessness of arguing the question with the

Pawnee chief, and bowing his head they rode away.

The Pawnees had discovered the party of Blackfeet at the same time that

Jehiel had done so, and just now it occurred to White Wolf that he was

in rather a disagreeable situation. He saw that the party of Blackfeet

outnumbered his party, five to one, and he knew that they were brave

warriors and would not run as easily as the Sioux had done.

Gray Eagle was pleased at the turn in affairs, as would naturally be

expected; but when he saw that Snowdrop was one of the approaching

party, he turned to White Wolf and said:

"Does my brother speak with a forked tongue?"

"No," replied the Pawnee; "who dare say he does?"

"He said that the daughter of Gray Eagle was in the camp of White Wolf,

a day's ride from here. Now Gray Eagle sees her there with his people!"

White Wolf did not know what to say. He had left the Blackfoot beauty a

prisoner in the hands of two trusty warriors, and for the life of him

he could not imagine who had rescued her. He said:

"Shall there be peace between the Pawnee and Blackfeet braves, or shall

White Wolf take the scalp of Gray Eagle and go away?"

The old Blackfoot chief saw that there was much to gain and nothing to

lose, and he replied:

"There shall be peace." And they again moved on.

The young chief who led the party of Blackfeet accompanied by Snowdrop

and Jehiel, now rode forward, leaving the Blackfeet in a body; while

Gray Eagle and White Wolf rode out to meet them.

"Has the Blackfoot maiden a sister who looks just like herself?" asked

the astonished Pawnee.

"No, Snowdrop has no sister," replied the girl. "I see you thought I

was your prisoner. I was, but I did not stay so very long."

"How did you get away?" asked White Wolf.

"I rode away! Your warriors slept too sound, you see."

"Waugh!" was all White Wolf could say. He knew that Snowdrop was merely

trying to banter him, and after a moment's reflection, he said:

"The warriors shall die! They are not fit to live if they can not keep

one little squaw!"

"No, they will not die!" assented Snowdrop.

The chief looked at her in surprise. He was not in the habit of having

squaws contradict his word.

"White Wolf is his own master, and the chief of all the Pawnees! Why

does the Blackfoot maiden say they shall not die?"

"Because they are dead already!" answered Snowdrop.

"Dead! Who killed them?"

"I killed one; Long Hunter the other," she replied.

White Wolf glared fiercely at her, as if he could kill her where she

sat, but in a few moments the expression changed, and he said:

"I have rescued your father from the hands of the Sioux as I promised;

now will Snowdrop go to the home of White Wolf, and be his squaw? She

shall have as many slaves as she wants, and there shall be peace

between the tribes. What says the queen of the Blackfeet?"

"That she does not love the great chief of the Pawnees, and can never

enter his lodge," replied Snowdrop.

"Does she love some one else?"

"Yes, Snowdrop will be the wife of White Panther or marry no one!"

"Who is the White Panther?" asked the chief.

"He is the bravest of pale-faces, and Snowdrop will give her life to

him!"

"Tell me where he is, that I may go and kill him. He is a dog!"

Hardly had the words escaped his lips before he received a blow upon

the side of his head which knocked him from his horse, and laid him

senseless upon the ground.

"There, ye everlastin' skunk!" exclaimed Jehiel, for it was he had

administered the blow, "that'll l'arn ye not to be callin' names!"

The Pawnees seized their weapons when they saw their chief go to the

ground, but at the motion, the Sioux also put themselves in readiness

to repel any attack.

Slowly the Pawnee chief rose to his feet, and for a moment he seemed

to be measuring the strength of Jehiel, then his smothered indignation

found vent, and he exclaimed:

"The pale-face shall die!"

"Waal, he won't, unless he runs across a smarter red-skin than you

are!" exclaimed Jehiel.

"If he is not a coward he will fight the great chief of the Pawnees,

and White Wolf will surely kill him!" said the chief.

"Waal, I may be a coward, but I ain't afeard of you nor any other

durned Injun in this kentry. An' durn yer skin, I'll fight ye any day

and place ye dare to mention!"

"Then we will fight now and here," said the chief.

"Agreed! You'll see fair play, won't you?" he asked of Gray Eagle.

"Yes," replied the chief. "If White Wolf kills my friend, he must do it

fairly."

"Bully for you, old feller!" said Jehiel. Then turning to White Wolf,

he said:

"Now, ye red sarpent, jes' git off there; an' when the old chief gives

the word, we will see who can shoot the best."

"No," replied the Indian, "the gun of the pale-face is better than that

of White Wolf. Let us fight with knives."

"Not much, you don't!" exclaimed Jehiel, who was not very skillful in

the use of that implement, "not much, you don't. I don't want to dirty

my knife--it's the one I use to cut my meat with, and it would go

ag'in' my stomach to use it arter I'd cut a dirty Injun to pieces!"

"Then let the chief of the Blackfeet say how the fight shall be," said

White Wolf.

"Agreed, ag'in! Crack ahead chief, and any way you say fight, I'll

fight!"

"Gray Eagle says, let the fight be with knives and on foot," was the

decision of the chief; and although it did not exactly suit Jehiel, he

immediately began to strip for the fight.

He was soon naked to the waist, and handing his gun and garments to

Snowdrop, he asked her to hold them for him. He was encouraged by a

sweet smile from her, and in reply to the whispered, "Kill him if you

can," he replied:

"I'll do it, sartin!"

White Wolf then stripped, and he too handed his gun to Snowdrop, but

she refused it with scorn. This angered the Pawnee still more, and he

exclaimed:

"Wait until I kill the pale-face dog!" and he strode into the circle

which had been formed by the two parties pressing forward in their

eagerness to see what was going on.

White Wolf was a tall, finely formed Indian, and was well skilled in

the use of the knife, so that really, he had the advantage over Jehiel;

but what Jehiel lacked in skill and experience, he more than made up in

quickness and grit.

They stood within six feet of each other, waiting for Gray Eagle to

give the signal to commence.

So it came, and as the two forms met, the gleaming steel told that the

battle was begun. Flashing in the sunlight, as the antagonists came

together, and then sprung apart, only to renew the conflict without a

moment's pause.

Jehiel soon became satisfied that he was in no particular danger from

the Pawnee chief, and he laughed to himself as he parried the furious

blows of the Indian. But he soon grew tired of this, and pressed hard

upon his adversary, who gradually fell back toward the side of the

circle occupied by his warriors.

Jehiel anticipated his intentions, and springing past the Pawnee,

placed himself between the chief and his warriors.

Then he pressed the Pawnee still harder, and began to nerve himself for

the last desperate effort.

By a skillful blow he severed the string by which the knife of the

chief was attached to his wrist, and another lightning-like stroke sent

the Indian's knife whirling a rod away.

"Now, red-skin, if you hain't satisfied, go and pick up your knife and

I'll do it again."

"The pale-face can take the scalp of White Wolf, for he has won it!"

replied the chief.

"I don't want yer scalp, ye durned fool, but I guess, seein' it's you,

I'll cut it off close to yer head; then, while you're raisin' another

one, you can think of the lickin' I've g'in ye."

"White Wolf will not accept life from a pale-face dog!" exclaimed the

chief.

Again the sledge-hammer fist of Jehiel came in contact with the head of

the Pawnee, and again the chief found himself flat on his back.

"Waal, now, didn't I tell you so?" said Jehiel. "I don't take _dog_

from no man, let alone a durned Injun."

Then Jehiel shaved the braided scalp-lock of the Pawnee chief close to

his head, after which he returned, and donning his garments, mounted

his horse and was ready for the next thing that might turn up.

White Wolf was not slow in following his example, and then withdrew

with his warriors, without saying a word to any one.

Old Bear-Paw, the trapper king; or, The love of a Blackfoot queen · 第 8 / 14 章