LAME WOLF PRAYS TO HIS RAVEN
That morning I had not forgotten to sling on my telescope before leaving
camp. I got it out, then took a good look at the men, and said to
Pitamakan, "They don't appear to be a war party; they are all old men,
and some have large packs upon their backs!"
"Ha! It is well-planned deception, but I shall take no chances with
them. I am sure that the brush behind them is full of warriors!"
Pitamakan replied.
I somehow believed that for once he was mistaken, and when a moment
later the five men started toward us, all making the peace sign and
singing a strange, quaint, melancholy song, so weird, so strangely
affecting, that it almost brought tears to my eyes, Pitamakan himself
said, "I was mistaken! They are men of peace! I believe that they are
men of the Earth-Houses People."
We met the strangers at the foot of the slope. They continued their
quaint song until we were face to face with them; then their leader,
first making the sign that he was one of the Earth-Houses People, as the
Blackfeet call the Mandans, embraced me and Pitamakan, and so did the
others, each in his turn.
"We are glad to meet you this good day," said the leader to me in the
sign language. "We have often heard about you. We know that you are the
Fox, the young relative of Far Thunder. We know that your companion is
the young Pikuni, Running Eagle. We have come a long way to see and talk
with Far Thunder. His camp is close by, there where the two rivers meet,
is it not? Yes? We are glad!"
"Our hearts are the same as yours," I replied. "We are glad to meet you
this good day. Just up there we have killed an elk. Wait for us until we
have butchered it and loaded the meat upon our horses; then we will go
with you to Far Thunder."
The old leader signed his assent to the proposal, and Pitamakan and I
hurried back up the hill to our work. We were not long at it, taking
only the best of the meat; then I told Pitamakan to hurry on ahead and
notify my uncle of the Mandans' coming, so that he could meet them with
fitting ceremony at the barricade. I then rejoined the visitors, leading
my horse and walking with them, and in the course of an hour we were
greeted by my uncle at the passageway into camp. One after another they
embraced him; then he signed to them that his lodge was their lodge, and
he led them into it, where Tsistsaki greeted them with smiles and turned
to the big kettles of meat and coffee that she was cooking for them and
broke out a fresh box of hard bread.
With due formality my uncle got out his huge pipe, filled it with a
mixture of l'herbe and tobacco and passed it to the old leader of the
party to light. The old man capped it with a coal from the fire,
muttered a short prayer, and, blowing great mouthfuls of smoke to the
four points of the compass, started it upon its journey round the
circle. The Mandans made no mention of the object of the visit to us,
but said that, having heard from the men of the first down-river fire
boat that my uncle was building a fort on the great war trail where it
crossed Big River, they had thought that a visit of peace should be paid
to him. In turn, my uncle asked how the Mandans were faring and told of
our troubles with the Crows and Assiniboins. The news of the passing of
Sliding Beaver was good news to them; they greeted it with loud clapping
of hands and with broad smiles. "Far Thunder," their leader signed, "you
must surely have strong medicine. The gods have been very good to you to
give you the power to wipe out that terrible, bad man, worst of all the
men of the cut-throat tribe. Far Thunder, for what you have done the
Earth-Houses People owe you much!"
"I wish that they were all here, all your warriors, for I am expecting
to have a big fight with the cut-throats!" my uncle signed.
"We have sent for the warriors of my people to hurry down here and help
us, but fear that they will not arrive before the cut-throats appear,"
Pitamakan put in.
After some inquiries about just what we had done toward getting the help
of the Pikuni, the old leader turned to my uncle. "Far Thunder," he
signed, "you see us, five old men and almost useless; our weapons, five
old north stone sparkers [Hudson's Bay Company flintlock guns] and four
bows. But such as we are, Far Thunder, we are yours in this fight with
the cut-throats, if you want us!"
"You are very generous. We will talk about that later. Just now you are
to eat. I see that the food is ready for you," my uncle replied; and
Tsistsaki passed to them plates piled with boiled meat, hard bread and
dried-apple sauce, and huge bowls of sweetened coffee.
The men now came up from the grove for their dinner. In the afternoon
our guests rested, and it was not until evening that we learned the real
object of their visit to us. "Far Thunder," the old leader then signed,
when we were all gathered in our lodge, "no doubt you wonder why we
five old men have come the long way through dangerous country to enter
your lodge. It is because we are old and are soon to die that we chose
to take the place of young and useful men on a mission to you from our
people, to bring you gifts and to ask a gift from you."
"Ha! Now I know what is coming; they are after Is-spai-u!" Pitamakan
whispered.
"Far Thunder," the old man continued, "no doubt you know that the
Spotted-Horses People [the Cheyennes] visit us every summer with their
robes and furs and tanned leathers to buy some of the corn that we raise
and the pots of clay that we make. Also they come to race their fastest
horses against our fastest horses. Know, chief, that for the last five
summers they have won every race they made with us, and have gone their
way with great winnings, laughing at us and saying, 'Poor Earth-Houses
People! Your horses are of little account; even the best of them are
only travois horses for our women!' Thus we are made poor and greatly
shamed. Recently we counseled together about this. 'We do not,' said one
of the chiefs, 'much need the things that the Spotted-Horses People
bring here. Let us send them word that they need not come again to trade
with us; thus will we be saved from again losing all that we have in
racing our horses against theirs and being told that our best animals
are of no account.'
"We all agreed that this plan should be followed. Messengers were
selected to take our decision to the Spotted-Horses People. And
then--but wait, Far Thunder--"
The old man turned and spoke to his companions. They began to unwrap the
bundles that they had carried and soon displayed to our admiring eyes a
cream-white cow buffalo robe beautifully embroidered with porcupine
quillwork of gorgeous colors upon its flesh side; a war suit of fine
buckskin, quill embroidered and hung with white weasel skins; a fine
shield fringed with eagle tail feathers; and a handsomely carved red
stone pipe with feather and fur ornaments on its long stem. One by one
the old leader took them as they were opened to view and impressively
laid them upon the end of my uncle's couch. Then, straightening up in
his seat, he continued:
"Those, Far Thunder, are gifts to you from your friends, the
Earth-Houses People!
"The messengers were about to start to the camp of the Spotted-Horses
People," he said, resuming his story. "Then the first fire boat of the
summer came back down the river, and we learned from its men that you
and yours were coming down to the mouth of this little river, to this
great war-trail crossing of Big River, where you were to build a fort,
and that you had with you your fast, black buffalo-runner. Again we
counseled together. This is what we said: 'Far Thunder is a man of
generous heart. We will go to him with our trouble; we will ask him to
give the one thing that will enable us to wipe out the shame that the
Spotted-Horses People have put upon us.' Far Thunder, pity us! Give us
your black buffalo-runner!"
The eyes of all five of the old men were now upon my uncle, eyes full
of wistful anxiety, and he hesitated not a moment to give his reply to
their request, the one reply that he could make.
"My friends," he signed, "I must tell you about my black horse. A dying
man gave him to me, the man who seized him in the far south country.
With his last breath that man--you knew him, One Horn--asked me to
promise that I would always keep the horse. I promised. I called upon
the sun to witness that I would keep my promise!"
The old men slumped down in their seats in utter dejection, and oh, how
sorry we were for them! Their long and dangerous journey, their gifts of
their most valued possessions, were all for nothing!
Finally, the old leader spoke a few words to the others; one by one they
answered, and several of them spoke at some length and with increasing
animation. We wondered what they were saying, in that strange,
soft-sounding language. At last the old leader turned again to my uncle.
"Far Thunder!" he signed, "when you told us of your promise to the
dying man, and that it was a sun promise you gave him, not to be
broken--when you told us that--our hearts died. But now, chief, our
hearts rise up. Failing one thing, we gain another. We now see that the
gods themselves sent us to you, that in our old age we should have one
last fight with the cut-throats. Chief, we will remain with you and help
you fight them with all the strength that we have left in our poor old
arms. If we die, how much better to die fighting than in sickness and
pain in our lodges!"
"I am glad that you will stay with us and help fight the cut-throats.
These valuable things that you have laid here, you will take them back,"
my uncle replied.
"No! We give, but do not take back!"
It was all very affecting. There was a lump in my throat as I looked at
those old men, simple-minded, kind-hearted, still eager in their old,
old age to face once more their bitter enemies and, if need be, to die.
Tsistsaki threw her shawl over her head and cried a little in sympathy
with them. They presently broke out in a cheerful song of war.
Pitamakan and I took up our rifles and went out to our guard duty.
"Those ancient ones, what real men they are!" he said to me.
The night passed quietly. In the morning when the Tennessee Twins came
from guard duty in the grove and learned about our evening talk with the
old men, they shook hands with them one by one. "You are the strong
hearts! We shall be glad to fight alongside with you," Josh signed to
them.
Cramped as we were for space within the barricade, Tsistsaki insisted
that the old men should have a lodge of their own. The women set up one
of the lodges of the engagés, and all contributed to its furnishings of
robes and blankets and to its little pile of firewood beside the door;
then the widow of poor Louis volunteered to cook their meals. Thus were
the ancient ones made perfectly comfortable. At noon of that day, when
the men came in for their dinner, our guests went to my uncle and told
him that they wanted to help him not only in the coming fight with the
cut-throats, but in other ways as well. Old though they were, their
eyesight was still good; therefore they would do all the daytime guard
duty, three of them in the grove and two in camp. We were glad enough to
accept their offer, for, as the engagés were now entirely relieved from
all share in our constant watch for approaching enemies, the work on the
fort progressed rapidly.
The leader of the old men, Lame Wolf, was a medicine man and had with
him his complete medicine outfit, the main symbol of which was a stuffed
raven, to the legs of which were attached bits of human scalp-locks of
varying lengths. To Pitamakan, who became a great favorite with him, the
old man said that the raven was his dream, his sacred vision, and very
powerful. It had by its great power brought him safe through many a
battle with the enemy and had four times in his dreams warned him of the
approach of enemies, so that he and his warriors had been able to
surprise them and count many coups upon them. Every evening now he
prayed the raven to give him a revealing vision of the cut-throats and
any other enemies who might be approaching us, and his companions joined
him in singing the songs to his medicine.
"Far Thunder, my man," said Tsistsaki, the first evening that we heard
the old men praying and singing, "I feel that the gods are with us in
this matter of our fort-building upon this hostile war trail. As fast as
our troubles have come we have conquered them, and now come these five
old men, whose leader is favored of the gods, to help us. I have great
faith in his raven medicine."
"All right. You put your faith in that raven skin. I put mine in our
watchfulness and in our rifles," my uncle laughed.
"Ah, well," she answered, "the day will come when your eyes will be
opened to these sacred things."
During the next few days three different steamboats passed up the river
en route to Fort Benton, and when the first of them came down it
answered our hail and put in to shore. The captain had intended to put
in, anyhow, for he had a letter to us from Carroll and Steell. My uncle
handed him a letter for the Fort Union traders, asking them to tell the
Mandans that their five old men were staying with us to help fight the
Assiniboins, and that they were unable to get Far Thunder's fast runner
because of his vow to the sun that he would never part with it. He had
prepared the letter at the request of Lame Wolf, and the old man heaved
a sigh of satisfaction when he saw it pass into the captain's hands.
Our letter apprised us that the Pikuni, the whole tribe, warriors and
all, had forded the river at Fort Benton, on their way to us, only four
days before. That news made us low-hearted, for, if the warriors
continued on with the tribe at the slow rate it was obliged to travel,
we feared that they would never arrive in time to help us in the big
fight that every rising sun brought nearer to us.
My uncle declared that, short of logs as we still were, a beginning must
be made at once upon the walls of the fort; and after dinner Pitamakan,
Abbott, and I went out to assist him in laying the first four logs of
what was to be the southwest corner building of the fort, the one that
was to be my uncle's quarters, and Pitamakan's and mine as well. We
rolled the two bottom logs into place and made them level by putting
flat stones under the ends; and then Abbott, with quick and skillful
axe, saddled the ends; that is, cut deep notches in them. We then rolled
on them two end logs and cut notches in the ends to match the saddles in
the others. The first fitted snugly down into place; the second did not
fit well and was notched deeper at one end; and then, when it fitted
into place and we rested, Tsistsaki, who had come to watch, raised her
hands to the sky and cried out: "O sun! this home that we are starting
to build, let it be a home of peace and plenty; a home of happy days and
nights. Have pity upon us all, O sun. Give us, we pray you, long life
upon these, your rich and beautiful plains!"
Our team horses, working all day and corralled in the barricade the
greater part of the night, were rapidly losing their flesh and spirits
and no longer minded the flick of the whip. It was plain enough, said my
uncle at our evening meal, that they must be put upon good feed at
night, or else we must soon stop work. He looked at Pitamakan and me.
"Well, say it!" I cried. "What do you want us to do about it?"
"Night-herd them. Night-herd the whole outfit, saddle-horses and all, up
west on the high plains where the feed is good. Leave here after dark so
that any wandering war party hanging about will not know just what way
you are going or be able to follow you."
"Oh, my man!" Tsistsaki exclaimed, "I do not like them to do that.
Think! Just they two against all the travelers upon this great war
trail!"
"Many are the hunters of the fox; he eludes them all," said Pitamakan.
"We shall strike out with the outfit as soon as it is dark," I said to
my uncle, and that settled the matter.
Of course I rode Is-spai-u when we started out, driving the loose stock
ahead of us. We headed southwest--almost south up along the gentle
slope, then, when well out from the valley, northwest--and finally
brought the animals to a stand at the head of the breaks of the
Missouri, about two miles due west from camp. We then hobbled all but
two, Is-spai-u and Pitamakan's buffalo horse, which we picketed with
long ropes. By turns we watched our little band during the short night
and at sunrise drove them back to the barricade.
"Boys," Tsistsaki said to us after we had finished breakfast, "I have
something to say to you before you sleep."
"Say it! We are all but asleep now," Pitamakan answered from his couch.
"It is this: you must not take your horses to-night to feed where you
had them last night; every night you must drive them to a different
place."
"As if we didn't know enough to do that! We decided upon to-night's
grazing-ground when we were coming in this morning!" Pitamakan
exclaimed.
"Wise almost-mother. What good care you have for us!" I told her.
And what a loving, cheerful smile she gave me! Ah, that was a woman, let
me tell you!
There was too much going on in our lodge for us to sleep well; so we
took a robe and a blanket apiece and sneaked quietly into the lodge of
the old Mandans, who were sleeping after their night watch in the
barricade.
At about four o'clock the old men aroused us, and Lame Wolf signed that
they were going to bathe; would we go with them? We did, and were
refreshed. Then, after we were back in the lodge and dressed, old Lame
Wolf painted our faces with red-earth paint, the sacred color, and
prayed for us. We could not, of course, understand what he said, for he
did not accompany the prayer with signs, but Pitamakan said that made no
difference; it was, of course, good and powerful prayer.
At supper that evening we talked about the big fight we were expecting
to have with the Assiniboins, and wondered whether our people would
arrive in time for it. It was possible that the warriors were coming on
ahead, and if they were they might come riding down at any moment.
"If we could only figure the probable time of the coming of the
cut-throats as well as we can that of our people!" my uncle exclaimed.
"Wal, now, Wesley, you're goin' to know what I've had in my think-box
for some time; I can't keep it shut any longer," Abbott said. "We've
heard that the Assiniboin camp is away off on the Assiniboin River. But
you can hear a lot that ain't so. Maybe it is nowhere like that far off.
Ag'in, that there war party that we routed don't have to go clear home
to get help to try to wipe us out; the Assiniboins and the Yanktonnais
are about the same breed of pups--both Sioux stock. All those pals of
Slidin' Beaver's have to do is to let the Yanktonnais know that we have
that there Is-spai-u horse with us, and they'll come a-runnin' after
him, even if they don't care shucks about avengin' the death of Slidin'
Beaver. I'll lay four bits that the Yanktonnais camp is a long way this
side of the Assiniboin River. Let's look the thing in the face. It's
possible, fellers, that the ball may open this very night!"
"Let her come; we're here first!" Josh exclaimed.
"You bet you! I'm jest a-achin' for a scrap with those cut-throats!" his
twin chimed in.