The council of the nation――The wager of battle――Signs of friendship――A
private interview――A fair field and no favour――The trader on the
scene――I leave the camp――I camp alone――The rock on the hill――The
skulking figure――Preparations for the start――The race for life――The
snake in the grass――A desperate strait――The odds are made even――Hand to
hand――A last chance――Out of range.
It was an imposing spectacle this council of the Blackfeet on the
next morning. On the rounded top of a prairie knoll sat the chief
and old men of the tribes; the space surrounding the knoll held the
fighting-men seated in circles. I sat with the Sioux on the slope.
Penoquam occupied the centre of all. For a time the silence was only
broken by low murmurs of voices; everybody smoked. At length the tall
and majestic figure of the Far-Off Dawn rose in the centre; every eye
became fixed upon him. Wrapping his robe around his body, he spoke,――
[Illustration: The tall and majestic figure of the Far-Off Dawn rose in
the centre.]
“Chiefs and braves of the Blackfeet nation. When the father of our
tribes crossed the mountains of the setting sun, and pitched his lodge
in this great prairie, he traced for his sons the paths they were to
follow in life. To one he gave fleetness of foot, to another he gave
strength of arm, to another he gave sight to track the buffalo,
the elk, and the moose; but to all alike he said, Be thy courage big
in battle, and thy tongue just in council. Brothers, we are here in
council to speak the straight word. Our brothers the Sircies are here;
our cousin the Sioux is here; they have had quarrel with each other.
We will ask our brothers the Sircies to tell us why there has been war
between them and our cousin; and we will ask our cousin to say why he
has quarrelled with our brothers. Then, when we have heard each the
word which he has to speak, our judgment will be given with a straight
tongue.”
Then Penoquam called upon the Sircie chief to state the cause of his
quarrel with the Sioux.
The Sircie now told his version of the attack upon the hut at the
Forks, dwelling at length upon the wounds suffered by his braves,
but keeping carefully concealed the part played by the trader in the
affair. He represented the attack as made because the ground on which
the hut had been built was a portion of the hunting-grounds of the
Sircie tribe; and he also spoke of the presence at the hut of Indians
belonging to tribes that were at war with his people. In conclusion he
demanded that the Sioux should be given up to him for punishment.
Then the Sioux, rising from the ground to his feet, spoke in answer.
“Chiefs and men of the great Blackfeet nation. It is true that I fought
against the Sircies, but I fought only in self-defence. Who is there
among you who will not push aside a falling tree, or hold his shield
against a hostile arrow? I am known to you all. My hand has never been
raised against a red man’s life, save to defend my own; but if this
Sircie thinks I owe him blood for blood, I am free to offer him the
trial of my life against his own. Here, on horseback or on foot, I am
ready to meet him in the combat.”
A murmur of approval ran round the dusky circle. The Sircie was for the
moment abashed; this was the last turn he could have wished the affair
to take. The Sioux, he was well aware, was more than a match for him
at any weapon; nevertheless he could not openly decline the proferred
combat. He would pretend to accept the battle wager. When he announced
his readiness to fight, his followers at once demurred.
It was not combat they wanted, they said, but the death of their enemy.
The Sioux had already shed the blood of their brethren; why should he
be given an opportunity of shedding more? His own life should now be
the penalty.
It was clear that a considerable portion of the Blackfeet shared this
view. Nor was it to be wondered at; their brotherhood with the Sircie
was stronger than their cousinship with the Sioux. But as I watched
the faces around, and took note of each varying expression, I thought
I could see in the face of the chief Penoquam indications of other
feelings towards my friend. It seemed to me that he wished if possible
to stand between the Sircies and their prey.
The face of the red man is slow to betray his thoughts, but the eye of
true friendship is quick to read sign of favour or affection towards a
friend, when the balance of fate hangs suspended between his life and
his death.
I was right in my surmise. Penoquam wished well to the Sioux. He had
heard through his spies the true story of the under-current which
the trader had set to work for the destruction of Red Cloud, and he
was determined if possible to save him; but neither his power over
his own people, nor his influence with other tribes, great though
they undoubtedly were, could enable him openly to avow his intention.
He must dissemble his real motives, and pretend acquiescence in the
demands of the Sircies. His voice was now heard above the murmurs of
the chiefs and braves.
“It is right,” he said “that our brothers the Sircies should ask the
blood penalty, but it is also right that our cousin should be given
the chances of the custom of our people. The Blackfeet are strong in
battle, they do not fear any tribe on the prairie, or in the thick
wood; but as they are brave, so are they just. This Sioux has offered
fight; our brother is ready to meet him in the combat; but if the Sioux
should gain the battle, the reckoning for the blood already shed would
still be due. No; we will not grant the combat to the Sioux, nor shall
we give to the Sircies the life of our cousin. Seven days from to-day
we will say what shall be done with the Sioux; until that time he is
our prisoner.”
The council now broke up, and I was soon alone with Red Cloud in our
lodge. It was after nightfall that a messenger came to say Penoquam
desired our presence in his tent.
It was only a few yards distant.
We found the chief alone, seated before a small fire, smoking. He
motioned us to sit by him, and when we had all smoked for a while in
silence, he spoke. He had only a few words to say, but they meant a
great deal to us.
“In seven days,” he said, “the Sioux would be given a chance of his
life. He would have his own horse again, and his freedom would then
rest with himself. He would be given a clear start of three bow-shots’
distance. His enemies, the Sircies might catch him if they were able.
For four days Penoquam would say nothing to the tribe of this resolve,
but on the fifth day he would announce to them his decision.”
We went back to our tent and silently thought over this proposal. It
had many things to recommend it, so far as the chances of ultimate
safety were concerned. It is true the horse of the Sioux was yet unused
to trial of speed after the winter’s snow, but those of the Sircies
were no better prepared, perhaps not so well. But on the other hand,
the proud heart of my friend revolted at the idea of having to fly
before his enemies. So galling did this thought seem to him that he
actually determined to refuse the chance offered to him, and to tell
Penoquam that he was ready to die facing his foes, but not to fly with
his back towards them.
I tried to dissuade him from this resolve, but all my efforts were
useless, and I lay down to sleep that night with the gloomiest
forebodings of approaching evil.
It was yet early on the following morning when there arrived in the
Sircie camp one whose presence soon caused a change in the resolution
formed by the Sioux; it was the trader McDermott. What connexion this
arrival could have with the determination of Red Cloud to accept the
offer of Penoquam I could not discover, but that the presence of the
trader was the cause of this acceptance I could not doubt; indeed it
was easy to see that the resolution to decline the chance of flight was
at once abandoned when the news of McDermott’s arrival was received.
So far things began to look brighter. I had such complete faith in my
friend that I felt he could not fail unless the odds were altogether
against him, and I knew that there could not be many horses on the
plains whose speed would outmatch his. So the few days passed away, and
at last came the morning that was to announce, to Blackfeet, Sircies,
and trader alike, the judgment of Penoquam.
The announcement was received by the braves with much excitement. It
promised them a spectacle that was dear to the red man’s heart; for the
Sircies or the Sioux the majority cared little, but their interest in
the race for life was keen. Three days had still to elapse before the
race.
It was necessary that I should decide upon some line of movement for
myself. If the Sioux escaped, I would still be a denizen of the camp.
If he fell, I felt that I could not meet his enemies save as my own.
And yet I could not bear the idea of leaving him to face alone this
ordeal. True, I could be of no service to him; but that did not seem
to lessen the horror of deserting him at such a time. It was on the
evening of this day that he spoke his wishes to me,――
“I want you, my friend, to do me a great service. Penoquam has told me
that I am to be set free on the east side of this camp. I will make for
the east at first. If I find that I am not likely to be overtaken I
will bend away to the north in the direction of our _cache_. You must
go before me on that course. You have three spare horses besides the
one you ride. Take these horses at nightfall to-morrow out of camp.
Depart on your way to the north. Halt some little way to the east of
north. When morning breaks choose some ground where you can remain safe
during the day and night, and then on the forenoon of the second day
from to-morrow look out to the south for me. If the Sircies follow me
with fresh horses I may want your help then. If I should not come by
the evening of that day, wait for me no longer, but endeavour to get to
the _cache_ as best you can, and tell them what has happened.”
The next day I made my preparations quietly for departure, and when
evening came I quitted the camp. A son of Penoquam came to see me clear
of the lodges. I had not dared to do more than silently press the
hand of my friend. He sat in his tent composed and quiet, as though
to-morrow was to bring to him the usual routine of prairie life. Once
clear of the camp, I held on straight towards the north, steering by
the pole star. I travelled without halting all night, and the first
streak of dawn found me many miles from the Blackfeet camp. I turned
off towards the light, and held on for some time longer. The sun was
now drawing near the horizon. It was time to halt, I looked about for
hollow ground in which to camp, and soon found it; then I hobbled the
horses, spread out a robe, and lay down. But I could not sleep; the
thought of what was so near at hand kept my mind on the stretch, and
the confidence which I had before felt as to the result of the race
for life, seemed now to vanish in swift-recurring fears of disaster
to my friend. The dew lay wet upon the prairie. I pulled the short
green grass, and bathed my feverish forehead in it; then I arose and
began to ascend a ridge that lay to the southward of my camping-place.
From the top I could see far over the prairie; dew-freshened and
silent it spread around; not a sign of life was to be seen upon any
side. Far away to the south, and somewhat to the east of where I was,
a ridge stood out high over other elevations; there appeared to be
on its summit something like a large boulder. I remembered, one day
when strolling around the Blackfeet camp, having noticed a similar
object far away to the north-east; it was the same hill. A thought now
struck me; I might go in the night towards this hill, and at daylight
gain its northern side. The camp would then be in view, and I would
see something of what took place. I determined to do this as soon as
darkness had come.
I descended the hill and lay down again on my robe. Still I could
not rest. The trader McDermott seemed to haunt my mind; his presence
in the camp filled me with vague apprehensions. I felt that he would
strain every effort to destroy the man he held in so much dread, and
who was now almost in his power. At last the day wore to an end. When
it was quite dark I set out for the rock hill. I only took my own
riding-horse; I carried a double rifle. I steered a course slightly
east of south. When the night was about two-thirds over I stopped to
wait for daylight. I was afraid lest in the darkness I should overshoot
the rocky hill. When day broke I saw the rock still before me, but
further off than I had expected. Keeping the hollow ground as well as
I could, I went on. It was sunrise when I reached it. I then haltered
my horse in a hollow on the north side of the ridge, and went up the
hill on foot. The rock at the top proved to be a granite boulder, here
stranded cycles ago from some iceberg fleet sailing south, when this
ocean of grass had been a still vaster ocean of water. I did not then
trouble myself much to think what it had been in the past; to me now it
was everything I wanted――vantage-point, shelter, position.
I looked out from the edge of the rock over the prairie to the south
and west. Far off, I saw the lodges of the Blackfeet camp, with thin
pillars of light blue smoke ascending in the morning air.
The atmosphere was very clear, and objects were visible to a great
distance; everything was quiet in the intervening distance. I stood
some time leaning against the boulder, surveying the scene outspread
beneath. Suddenly I saw a figure on horseback appear in the middle
distance. It was only for a moment, and he was lost again in some
prairie hollow. Keeping my eyes on the place I soon saw the figure show
again――this time the head and upper part of a man’s body. This also
soon vanished, but only to reappear again and again at intervals. The
man, whoever he was, seemed to be making across the line that led to
the camp. He was nearly midway between the camp and my standpoint.
At first I thought it might be the Sioux, but a little reflection
told me it could not be my friend. At last I saw the figure stop, and
dismount from his horse. Following with my eyes the line he had taken,
I noticed that there seemed to be a marked depression in the prairie
in that quarter. Standing on high ground, I could see into portions of
this depression, but to a person on the level the figure would have
been almost wholly invisible. It was evident the figure was that of
some person who desired, like myself, to keep concealed from view.
What object could he have in thus keeping so far out in the plain
from the camp on the line the Sioux would take. Then it occurred to
me that this man might be the trader McDermott. Could it be? Every
circumstance I had noted――the line followed――the care taken to conceal
himself――all tended to convince me that it must be the trader. My
heart sank within me at the thought; a cold perspiration broke upon
my forehead, and I leant against the granite rock for support. Then
came the thought――could I not do something to defeat this stealthy
scoundrel, who was thus hiding to intercept the escape of my friend and
strike him a traitor’s blow? Alas, what could I do? Fully five miles of
open prairie lay between me and the hollow where this wolf had taken
up his ground. Long before I could reach the spot I must be observed
from the camp. While I was yet thinking what to do, I observed in the
far distance, on the confines of the camp, signs as of the movement
of men and horses. I could see specks moving to and from on the level
plain of grass that lay on the side of the camp nearest to me. It was
not long before I saw these specks assume shape. A line of horsemen
was distinguishable, with one mounted figure in advance; this was only
for a moment. Then I saw the whole move forward almost in an easterly
direction, and to the left front of where I stood. My heart beat so
that I could hear its throbbing like the tick of a clock. I was wildly
excited, but with the fever of heart and brain came strength and power
of thought such as I had never before experienced. Concealment was no
longer necessary. I ran back to the hollow where I had left my horse,
drew tight the saddle-girths, jumped into the saddle, and rode up to
the rock again. The short interval had changed the scene. The horsemen
had come on, but the line was no longer uniform; there were stragglers
already dropping behind, and there were others who, at the distance
from which I saw them, seemed to be almost nearer the leading horseman
than they had been before.
I saw that the direction of the leading horseman was changing a little
towards the north, but for what reason it was impossible to say. This
change of direction if continued would leave the place where I had last
observed the skulking figure considerably to the right.
I now observed that this man appeared to be aware of the alteration of
direction, for he began to move further to the west on the line he
had already been pursuing.
In the time I have taken to tell these changes and movements the
main scene itself was sweeping rapidly along. Scarcely two miles now
separated the Sioux from the figure in ambush, but I saw with joy that
in his efforts to keep concealed from view the horseman in the hollow
was quickly losing the great advantage of position which he had first
held, and that there was every chance that instead of being able to
cut off the Sioux on a line at right angles to that of the original
pursuit, he would be compelled to strike at him on the longer course of
an acute angle. On the other hand, I knew that while the horse ridden
by my friend must now be showing signs of the pace at which he had come
for four miles, that belonging to the man in ambush was almost fresh.
All at once the horseman in the hollow came out into full view. He rode
at topmost speed to cross the line on which the Sioux was moving. To
avoid the fresh attack I saw the Sioux bend further away to his left,
and I noticed that his course was now directed almost straight upon my
standpoint.
Nearer and nearer he came; the original pursuers were now far behind,
in fact only four or five of them were still in the race; the rest
had ridden their horses to a standstill. But I thought little about
these Sircie braves; my eyes followed the course of the new enemy, my
heart sank as I marked the rapidity of his advance, and the evident
freshness of his strong black horse.
As I have already remarked, the line upon which he advanced was
calculated to meet that upon which the Sioux was moving; and the point
at which they would meet if continued as they were now directed, would
be not very far away from where I was standing.
Of the two horsemen, the trader was the nearest to me; he was still a
couple of miles away, but I judged that when he passed the western base
of my hill he would not be half a mile distant.
Red Cloud was evidently in no hurry to edge away to his left and thus
make the chase a stern one. Perhaps he feared that any change of
direction westward would throw him back up to the Sircies, or it may
have been that he felt his gallant horse still strong beneath him.
Anyhow, on he held his course, apparently little heeding his dangerous
enemy on the right.
It is difficult for me to tell the exact process of thought which my
brain went through while my eyes were fastened on this scene. What I
must have thought the subsequent action proves; but I cannot recall any
distinct effort of thinking, or any line of reasoning guiding me to
action. I saw and acted. After all, in the real crises of existence it
is on such action that our lives turn.
I hastily turned my horse down the northern slope of the hill, and
sweeping round by the north-west base, galloped out into the open
prairie.
And now I beheld a strange sight. Less than a mile distant, straight in
front of me, the trader was riding furiously, following hard upon the
Sioux. The latter had turned his horse full towards the west. There did
not seem to be two hundred yards interval between pursuer and pursued;
and judging by the terrific pace at which the trader’s horse was going,
that short distance was rapidly being lessened. No other figures were
anywhere to be seen.
I took in all this as, with spurs hard set into my horse’s flanks, I
flew in pursuit of the trader.
Once or twice I saw him raise his gun to his shoulder to fire at the
Sioux; but he dropped it again to await a nearer and more certain shot.
Fast as the two men were flying before me, my horse was going even
faster still. I was gaining at every stride upon them; but of what use
was my effort when any moment a shot might end the life of my friend?
I was too far off to render assistance. I might, however, avenge his
death if he fell.
And now, as straining every nerve, I rode along, expecting every
instant to see the puff of white smoke, and hear the report of the
fatal shot, I beheld the strangest sight of all that I had looked upon
during this eventful morning.
Suddenly I saw the Sioux swerve to the right from his onward course,
and, wheeling with the rapidity which only the Indian can turn, bear
down full upon the trader.
So unexpected was the movement, so quick was its execution, that the
trader was completely thrown out. Had the Sioux made his wheel to his
left hand the advantage of shot across the bridle arm would have been
with the trader; but now this wheel to the right brought the Indian
upon the off side of his enemy, and put McDermott in a disadvantage,
which was instantly increased by the still forward movement of his own
horse.
Just as the Sioux’s horse had completed his wheel, the trader fired a
snap-shot, his gun held straight at the full stretch of his right arm.
The range was under one hundred yards, but the rapid motion of his own
horse made the shot a difficult one, and I shouted with joy when I saw
that neither man nor horse was harmed.
Still the odds were terribly against the Sioux. He had neither gun,
nor bow, nor knife, while his opponent was fully armed. More in the
hope of distracting McDermott’s attention and confusing his aim, than
with any expectation of hitting him at the distance I was still away, I
now fired two shots at him as he stood out clear from the Sioux, whose
wheel had placed him well to one side. Both shots missed their object,
but I saw that he turned a quick glance in my direction just as the
Sioux came thundering across the short space that still lay between
them.
The career which McDermott had long followed made him an expert in
all the exercises of wild life on the prairies. He could pull a cool
trigger amid the fierce stampede of buffalo, and take a sure aim in
battle or in the chase. He would have wagered the best horse in his
possession that an unarmed enemy charging him on the open prairie, if
such a man were found mad enough to attempt the venture, would have
been a dead man within twenty paces of his standpoint; and even now,
although coward conscience trembled in his heart as he faced his enemy,
his levelled gun was pressed firmly to his shoulder, and held steady in
the bridle-hand, while his horse stood true to the teaching of Indian
tactics, the obedient servant and trained auxiliary of its rider.
I saw the Sioux low bent upon his horse; I saw the smoke flash forth
from the trader’s gun; and then for an instant all was confusion. With
a wild convulsive leap forward, the Indian’s horse fell, crashing
almost at the feet of the trader’s steed; and then――so quick was the
upward spring that I could mark no interval of time――the red man’s
grasp was round his enemy, and the game of life or death was at last
being played on even terms.
I reached the spot at the final moment. The Sioux, with one knee firmly
planted against the trader’s saddle, had clasped both arms around his
enemy, wrenching him by a mighty effort from his horse. In the struggle
McDermott had flung aside his empty gun in order to better grapple
with his assailant; so the fight was now without weapons. Both men
rose from the ground still locked in a fierce embrace. For a moment it
seemed that the heavier frame and greater bulk of the white man must
prevail over the lither figure of the Indian. Once or twice the trader
lifted his assailant almost off his feet; but the marvellous agility of
the Sioux again gave him the advantage, and after a long and desperate
rally the white man was borne backward and forced upon his knees.
So far not a word had escaped the two men; they had fought in grim
silence. But now when victory seemed about to declare itself for the
Sioux, a savage laugh broke from the trader, and with a mighty effort
he locked his arms around the Indian, intent only upon holding him in
his grasp. Well might he think the game was still his own. A low ridge
three hundred yards to the south, suddenly darkened with galloping
horsemen and with loud war-cries of triumph, a dozen Sircies came
sweeping down upon us. One chance yet remained to us. I pushed my horse
close to the struggling men, and with my gun held by the barrel, I
struck the iron butt heavily down upon the trader’s head. The strong
tension of his grasp relaxed, and he sank, apparently lifeless, to the
ground.
[Illustration: I struck the iron butt heavily down upon the trader’s
head.]
But so intent was the Sioux upon his enemy that he resented my
interference, and glared at me for a moment; then I saw him seeking for
a weapon, heedless of the approaching danger, now so close upon us.
“Quick,” I cried to him, “or we are lost! Jump upon the trader’s horse.”
My word recalled him from the frenzy of passion which had absorbed
every faculty of heart and brain.
The horse had stood quietly during the struggle, as his old training
had taught him; the trader’s gun lay at his feet. To seize the gun
from the ground and spring into the vacant saddle was the work of an
instant, and ere the headmost braves were quite upon us, we were off at
headlong speed towards the north; one arrow quivering through the flesh
of my right leg, and two or three others hurtling harmlessly around us.
Twenty seconds more, and our fleet horses had carried us out of range.