Produced by David Edwards and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
[Illustration: DEERFOOT IN THE MOUNTAINS]
[Illustration: A Friend in Need.]
NEW DEERFOOT SERIES
Deerfoot in the Mountains
BY
EDWARD S. ELLIS
_Author of "Deerfoot in the Forest," "Deerfoot on the
Prairies," "An American King," "The Cromwell of
Virginia," "The Boy Pioneer Series," "Log Cabin
Series," Etc., Etc._
Illustrated
with Eight Engravings by J. Steeple Davis
PHILADELPHIA:
THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO.
1905
THE NEW DEERFOOT SERIES
BY
EDWARD S. ELLIS
Illustrated by
J. STEEPLE DAVIS
_No. 1.--Deerfoot in the Forest_
_No. 2.--Deerfoot on the Prairies_
_No. 3.--Deerfoot in the Mountains_
Each contains seven half-tone engravings and _color frontispiece_. They
make more real the fortunes and adventures of the heroic little band
that journeys through the wilderness and prairies from the Ohio to the
Pacific. It was in the time of daring when Lewis and Clark were engaged
in their thrilling expedition that the adventures narrated by the
distinguished author of boys' books are described as occurring. Our old
friends, George and Victor, of the "Log Cabin Series," are again met
with in these pages, and the opportunity of once more coming face to
face with Deerfoot will be welcomed by every juvenile reader.
_The New Deerfoot Series is bound in uniform style in cloth, with side
and back stamped in colors._
Price, single volume $1.00
Price, per set of three volumes, in attractive box 3.00
COPYRIGHT BY
THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO., 1905
CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAP. I. EASTWARD BOUND 9
CHAP. II. LOST, STRAYED OR STOLEN 23
CHAP. III. THE TRAIL NORTHWARD 37
CHAP. IV. THE LAND OF THE ASSINIBOINES 51
CHAP. V. A WELCOME SIGHT 65
CHAP. VI. COMRADES TRUE 79
CHAP. VII. A MISHAP 93
CHAP. VIII. ENEMIES AND FRIENDS 106
CHAP. IX. IN THE ROCKIES 121
CHAP. X. IN THE BLACKFOOT COUNTRY 135
CHAP. XI. IN WINTER QUARTERS 149
CHAP. XII. BLACKFOOT CITIZENS 161
CHAP. XIII. SUMMONED TO COURT 173
CHAP. XIV. A NEW BLACKFOOT CITIZEN 185
CHAP. XV. THE SPIRIT CIRCLE 197
CHAP. XVI. THE FIELD OF HONOR 211
CHAP. XVII. A MEMORABLE DUEL 221
CHAP. XVIII. DISCIPLINE IN THE RANKS 234
CHAP. XIX. "BEHOLD HE PRAYETH" 245
CHAP. XX. LIGHT IN DARKNESS 258
CHAP. XXI. HOMEWARD BOUND 267
CHAP. XXII. A MEMORABLE MEETING 280
CHAP. XXIII. LEWIS AND CLARK'S EXPEDITIONS 292
CHAP. XXIV. OVERBOARD 304
CHAP. XXV. JACK HALLOWAY AGAIN 315
CHAP. XXVI. A TEMPERANCE AGITATOR 329
CHAP. XXVII. "GOOD-BYE" 343
CHAP. XXVIII. RETROSPECT 350
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
FRONTISPIECE: (COLOR PLATE) A FRIEND IN NEED
"THIS HORSE WAS WHIRLWIND" 72
"NOW, WHIRLWIND, RUN HIM DOWN" 112
DEERFOOT LOST IN REVERIE BY THE CAMP FIRE 136
AN OMINOUS INTERVIEW 177
A MEMORABLE DUEL 224
A VISIT FROM CAPTAINS LEWIS AND CLARK 289
"IT WAS DEERFOOT, THE SHAWANOE" 301
Deerfoot in the Mountains
CHAPTER I.
EASTWARD BOUND.
Deerfoot the Shawanoe, Mul-tal-la the Blackfoot, and the twin brothers,
George and Victor Shelton, had completed their long journey from the
Ohio River to the Pacific slope, and, standing on an elevation near the
Columbia, spent hours in looking out upon the face of the mightiest
ocean of the globe. They feasted their vision on the magnificent scene,
with the miles of wilderness, mountain, vale, river and Indian villages
spread between their feet and the ocean.
It was a picture worth journeying across the continent to see. From
beyond the convex world a ship had sailed up to view, its snowy sails
looking at first like a tiny but growing cloud in the soft sky. As the
craft drew steadily nearer, they saw it careening to one side under the
impulse of the wind against the bellying canvas, while the curling foam
at the bows spread out like a fan and dissolved in the clear waters
beyond the stern.
Deerfoot had taken the glass after Mul-tal-la was through, and he stood
for a long time gazing at the waste of waters. None spoke, for there
was that in the scene and the occasion which made all thoughtful. The
grandeur, the majesty, the vastness filled them with awe and held them
mute. Finally, the Shawanoe lowered the instrument, and turning toward
the boys, said gravely, as he pointed first to the east and then to the
west:
"Yonder is the endless forest of wood, and yonder the endless forest of
water; they shall all become the home of the white man."
"I don't doubt you are right," replied George Shelton, "but it will be
hundreds of years after you and I are dead; there is room between here
and the Ohio for millions upon millions, but where will they come
from?"
"The white men will become like the leaves in the forest and the sands
on the seashore; no one can count the numbers that will overspread the
land; they will be everywhere."
"And what of your own people, Deerfoot?" asked Victor.
The dusky youth shook his head, as if the problem was beyond him.
"The two ought to live in peace side by side, for such is the will of
the Great Spirit. The white man cannot become like the red man, but the
red man may grow into the ways of the pale-faces, and all may be
brothers, and so live till time shall be no more."
The theme was too profound for the youths, though it was manifest that
the Shawanoe had given much thought to it. He added nothing, and while
the day was young they walked back to the Columbia, re-entered the
canoe and headed up stream.
Henceforward their work was different from that which they faced when
descending the river. There were long stretches where, despite the
current, the dusky boatmen found no special trouble in driving the
craft eastward; but, as they progressed, the labor became severer, for
the stream narrowed and the velocity of its flow became greater. The
portages were long and toilsome, and, as the party advanced, many
places were met where these portages became necessary on account of the
rapidity of the current alone. All, however, bent resolutely to work,
Victor and George taxing their strength to the utmost. Deerfoot seemed
tireless, but he could never be inconsiderate to others. He could have
outworn Mul-tal-la, though not till after the exhaustion of the boys,
who agreed between themselves that the job was the biggest they had
ever tackled; and yet their adult companions not only did the work the
twins were doing, but swung the paddles in addition.
Our friends stayed one night at the Echeloot or Upper Chinook village,
which they had visited when coming down the river. You will remember
that it was there they first saw wooden houses made by Indians. The
explorers were treated as hospitably as before, but, as you will also
recall, the natives were Flatheads, and the sight of the misshapen
skulls, towering at the rear like the ridge of a roof, was so
disagreeable that the travelers were glad to turn their backs upon
them.
You have not forgotten the thrilling descent of the Falls of the
Columbia, where all the skill of Deerfoot and Mul-tal-la was needed to
save the canoe from being dashed upon the rocks.
"Are you going to paddle through them again?" asked Victor.
"Deerfoot does not wish to see his brother scared so bad as he was
before."
"I was about to say that if you and Mul-tal-la don't feel equal to the
task, George and I are ready to take it off your hands."
"The heart of Deerfoot is made glad to hear the words of his brother,"
replied the Shawanoe, handing his paddle to the youth. Not expecting
that, Victor scratched his head and looked quizzically at George.
"Shall we show those fellows how to do such things?"
"I don't think it is worth while; they won't appreciate it."
"Deerfoot is sorry," was all that was said by the Shawanoe, as the boat
was drawn out of the waters and hoisted upon the shoulders of the
party.
The Shawanoe gave another illustration of his stern principles when, at
the close of day, the canoe was run into shore at the point where the
travelers had encamped beside the pile of lumber from which they were
led to take what fuel they needed through the misrepresentation of the
three Indians who called upon them. The night was one of the coldest of
several weeks, and at their elbows, as may be said, was enough fuel to
make them comfortable for months.
The brothers looked longingly at the mass of lumber, but did not dare
touch it in the presence of their friend.
"I wonder if we can't persuade him to look the other way for a little
while," said Victor in a low tone to George.
"It wouldn't make any difference if he did--he would see us just the
same; the only thing to do is to appeal to his common sense."
"You try it; he won't pay any attention to me."
"See here," said the shivering lad; "it seems to me, Deerfoot, that
since we have already stolen some lumber from that pile, it can't be
any harm to steal a little more; you see, with your good sense, that it
will be only taking two bites from the same apple."
The Shawanoe looked gravely at his young friends, whom no one
understood better than he, and abruptly asked:
"How much do two and two make?"
"As near as I can figure out," interposed Victor, "the answer to that
problem is four."
"When we used the wood we thought we had the right to take it; we
should pay the owner if we could find him. If we use any of it now it
will be a sin, as sure as two and two make four, for we know it belongs
to another; it is better to freeze than to steal wood. Deerfoot does
not wish to hear his brothers say anything more."
"I suppose he is right," growled Victor, "but doesn't he draw it mighty
fine? We may as well prepare to spend one of the worst nights we have
had since leaving the Ohio."
The canoe was drawn up the bank and then turned over, so as to shield
the property beneath. Then the blankets were spread so that the four
lay near one another and thus secured mutual warmth. The region had
become familiar to our friends because of their former visit, and they
knew that all the natives were friendly. Deerfoot, therefore, said
there was no need of mounting guard. They had eaten enough dried salmon
to stay the pangs of hunger, though the boys would have relished
something warm and more palatable.
All slept soundly, and the night passed without the slightest
disturbance from prowling man or animal. Victor Shelton was the first
to awake. He was lying on his side with his back against that of his
brother, and his face so covered by his blanket that only a small
orifice was left through which to breathe. His first sensation was that
of pressure, as if a heavy weight was distributed over the blanket and
was bearing him down. He moved his arm and found that the blanket, from
some cause, was really heavier than usual. A vigorous flirt freed his
shoulder from the wrapping, and he then saw the cause of the peculiar
feeling he had noticed: the earth was covered with several inches of
snow. Anyone coming upon the camp in the gray light of morning would
have noted nothing but the mass of lumber, the flowing river, the
overturned canoe and several white mounds. The snowfall had ceased, and
fortunately there had been a considerable rise of temperature. The snow
was soft and wet, and one could move about without extra protection,
and not suffer from cold.
Victor lay still for a minute or two, engaged in thinking. Then he
gently pushed the blanket off his shoulder and body, so as to leave his
limbs free. With the same stealth he rose to his feet and looked
around. There lay his three friends, encased even to their heads and
feet in the warm protection.
"I think there couldn't be a better time for me to settle my accounts
with you fellows," muttered the lad, looking down on the mounds.
"Master George Shelton, you have a bad habit of making slurring remarks
about my walking pretty fast from the wounded antelope, forgetting that
by doing so I drew him on to his own destruction. You need a lesson and
I'm going to give it to you.
"Mr. Mul-tal-la, you didn't say much at the time I was explaining that
little matter to George, but I saw the grin on your face, and I knew
you were thinking a good deal more than you had any right to think. You
need to be taught better manners.
"As for you, Mr. Deerfoot, you are the worst of all. I can't forget the
scandalous tricks you have played on me. It will take a long time to
even matters between us, but I'm going to make a good start to-day."
Knowing how lightly the Shawanoe slept, Victor picked his way with
great skill until he had taken a dozen or more steps. The down-like
carpet enabled him to do this absolutely without noise, a fact which
explains why Deerfoot did not awake.
Victor now stooped and began silently manufacturing snowballs. He
packed the soft substance as hard as he could while circling it about
in his palms and rounding it into shape. When the missile suggested a
12-pound shot he laid it at his feet, with the whispered words:
"That's for you, Master George Shelton."
The second sphere was compressed and modeled with the same pains and
placed beside the first.
"That's for you, Mr. Mul-tal-la, and you're going to get it good! As
for you, Mr. Deerfoot, you shall have a double dose."
Crooking his left arm at the elbow, Victor laid three of the nicely
molded snowballs in the hollow, which served as a quiver serves for
arrows. The fourth missile was grasped in his right hand, and he drew
it slowly back and sighted carefully at his brother. Victor was a fine
thrower, and when the ball flashed from his hand it landed on the top
of George's cap and burst into fragments. The sleeper was in the midst
of a dream in which Zigzag played a leading part, and the youth's first
impression was that he had received the full force of a kick on his
crown.
Paying no further attention to him, Victor quickly let fly at
Mul-tal-la, and the throw was as good as the first.
The disturbance, slight as it was, roused Deerfoot, who flung the
blanket off his face and raised his head. He was just in time to
receive the compact sphere between the eyes, and before he could dodge
the second it landed on his ear, packed the passage full of snow and
plastered the side of his face with the snowy particles.
"I meant those for you and here's another!" shouted Victor, who, having
exhausted his ammunition, snatched up a handful of snow and began
hastily molding a new missile.
"You needn't scramble and claw about! I've got you down and I'm going
to pay you for beating me at wrestling, for tickling my nose, for
stealing my clothes when I was swimming, and"----
The reason why the lad ceased his remarks so abruptly was because a
snowball, fired as if from a cannon, crashed into his mouth that
instant and half strangled him. Before he could pull himself together
he knew his nose was flattened by another missile and Deerfoot was on
the point of launching a third shot. This was more than Victor had
bargained for, and, wheeling, he "ran for life," yelling at the top of
his voice for George and Mul-tal-la to come to his help.
"Soak him, George! Give it to him, Mul-tal-la; don't you see he's
killing me?"
Now, there was no reason why the two thus appealed to should heed the
prayer, since each had suffered at the hands of the youth who was in
extremity. Nevertheless, Mul-tal-la and George attacked Deerfoot,
observing which, Victor was unprincipled enough to turn back and join
the assailants. Thus the Shawanoe was forced to defend himself against
three, every one of whom was a good thrower. Right bravely did the
dusky youth do his work--never yielding an inch, but driving his
missiles right and left, with the merciless accuracy and the power of
an arrow from his bow, or a bullet from his rifle. So lightning-like
were his throws that neither the man nor the boys were able to dodge
them, unless they widened the space between themselves and their
master. Deerfoot's last missile cracked like a pistol when the ball
impinged against the side of Mul-tal-la's head, and the latter gave up
the contest.
This left only the boys. The Shawanoe hastily fashioned a couple of
balls, and with one in either hand started for the brothers, who called
out, "Enough!" and flung their own ammunition to the ground in token of
surrender. He looked from one to the other and said:
"Let us not stop; Deerfoot is beginning to like it."
"That's the trouble," replied George; "you like it too much; I don't
want any more; maybe Victor does."
"I'll do my own talking," replied the latter; "didn't you see me throw
down my snowball? What do you 'spose I did that for?"
"Didn't you throw it at Deerfoot?" asked the Shawanoe. "The shot came
as near hitting him as some of those you threw."
"We'll take up the fight again some time," was the vague promise of
Victor, panting from his exertion.
"Deerfoot hopes you will do so."
But the good-natured contest was never renewed. Not again could the
lads expect to have such a golden opportunity, and their defeat was so
decisive that they knew better than to repeat it.
The labor of the return grew heavier as they progressed, and the time
came when it was so hard to make headway against the powerful current
that the effort was given up. The last few miles became a real portage,
though when our friends were descending the river the passage could not
have been easier.
And so in due time the four reached the Nez Perce village, where they
had left their horses and some of their property. Henceforth the
journey to the Blackfoot country was to be made by land. The former
task had proved one of the severest of their lives, and glad indeed
were all when it was over.