CHAPTER XI.

IN WINTER QUARTERS.

The time has come for us to turn our attention to George and Victor

Shelton, who, after parting with Deerfoot, set out for the principal

Blackfoot village under the guidance of their old friend Mul-tal-la, a

member of that powerful organization of the Northwest.

You will recall that when the little party of explorers were

approaching the home of the tribe they met two warriors, who were old

friends of Mul-tal-la and lived in the same primitive settlement with

him. After Mul-tal-la had made known the sad fate of his companion in

the East, an earnest talk took place and the decision was made that it

would not only be imprudent but dangerous to the last degree for the

Blackfoot to return home, taking with him the first announcement of the

deplorable accident that had robbed the tribe of one of its best

warriors.

Taggarak, the leading war chief, was a terrible sachem, who, on the

principle that has ruled for centuries in China, would put Mul-tal-la

to death, even though he was wholly blameless of neglect or wrongdoing.

It was agreed that our friends should push on to the westward, and then

come back to the Blackfoot settlement, where the Shawanoe and the

brothers would spend the winter, resuming their homeward journey with

the coming of spring.

This would defer the arrival of Mul-tal-la for two or three months,

which his two friends would utilize the best they could. Taggarak would

have time for the cooling of his resentful rage, and it was to be hoped

that he would appreciate the service of Mul-tal-la, who, young as he

was, had proved himself one of the bravest of warriors. The plan was a

wise one and it worked well.

The two messengers had a story of absorbing interest to tell. They

hinted at the remarkable experience of their comrade among his own race

and the white people, hundreds of miles toward the rising sun. They

said that when he came to the village he would bring with him a member

of the chief tribe of the East and two pale-faced youths, who would

honor the Blackfeet by accepting their hospitality for the winter.

There was something in this fact that appealed to that chivalric

feeling which is never wholly lacking in the most degraded and cruel

race. Taggarak had little to say, but the path to his magnanimity had

been paved.

One of the chief causes of this relaxation of sternness on his part was

the accounts which he heard of the Indian youth. His fleetness of foot,

his skill with bow and rifle, his personal daring and prowess, his

quickness and strength, his comeliness of face and form, were dwelt

upon and pictured in the most glowing language. The chieftain

Taggarak's question of the messengers was characteristic, as was their

reply.

"Are all the warriors of the Shawanoes like this youth of whom you tell

these strange stories?"

"The Shawanoes are no braver than the Blackfeet, but there is none

among them like Deerfoot, nor can his equal be found in all the world."

Among those who doubted the truth of the words of the messengers were

several aspiring bucks, who secretly resolved never to admit the

superiority of the Shawanoe youth in any of the respects named until

such superiority had been proved before their eyes.

The curiosity and spirit of hospitality were general among the

Blackfeet. Expecting the visitors to spend several months with them,

they made preparations for their convenience and comfort. One of the

first things undertaken by the two who had met the little party was the

building of a tepee or home for them. Mul-tal-la had his own father and

mother and would go to their lodge, but it would not have been seemly

to place the three guests with anyone else.

It has already been said that the Blackfoot village, which was the main

one of the tribe and the dwelling-place of the leading chief, was

stretched along the bank of a running stream which was a remote

tributary of the Missouri. This river had a rapid current and ran

almost due south in front of the village, which lay wholly on the

eastern bank. The tepees were more than a hundred in number, and, when

Taggarak went on the war path, he had taken more than two hundred

warriors from his own town--and they were the flower of the tribe.

To the rear of the settlement was an open space covering several acres.

This was not only the children's playground, but was often used by the

warriors for their games and athletic exercises. The space was so

extensive that at certain seasons of the year the outer portions were

covered with rich nourishing grass, which was also abundant in the

neighborhood. Nearly every warrior was the owner of a horse, which,

when not in use, was allowed to wander and graze at will.

These Indians lived after the manner of their race when removed from

civilization, which, as a rule, has proved a greater curse than boon to

them. Fortunately they knew nothing of the ruinous "fire water" that

was to await the coming of professing Christians and the claimants of a

higher culture and civilization. They spent their time mainly in

hunting and fishing, sometimes engaging in raids upon other tribes,

several of whose grounds lay to the north of the boundary line. When

not thus employed they lolled about, like true lords of creation,

smoking, drowsing or indifferently watching their squaws, who did all

the tilling of the ground and gathering of the scant crops from the

rich soil. The Blackfeet lived too far to the eastward to take any part

in the salmon fishing which gave employment to so many of their race on

the western slope of the Rocky Mountains. The warriors were finely

formed, and were held in no little respect and fear by the neighboring

red men, most of whom at some time or other had felt the weight of

their prowess.

The home for the expected visitors was erected at the extreme northern

end of the village, and was separated by fully fifty yards from the

next neighbor to the south. About a dozen saplings were planted in the

ground so as to form a circle, perhaps fifteen feet in diameter and a

little less in height. The tops were tied together, but loosely enough

to leave an opening a foot or more across to serve as a chimney. Over

the framework thus formed were stretched with no little skill a number

of bison furs, with the furry side in. They were stitched together by

means of deer sinews and pegged at the bottom, so as to shut out all

draught. Thus all the interior walls were brown and shaggy and warm. On

the outside of numerous tepees, cured and whitened by the storms, many

of the aboriginal artists of the tribe had sketched grotesque figures

of men, horses and wild animals.

You will note that the temporary home of our friends was of the most

primitive character, and yet all had seen such before and Deerfoot had

spent many a day and night in similar ones in the East. At one side a

loose bison robe could be lifted, thus serving as a door. When the

weather was warm this fold was often fastened back to permit a partial

ventilation of the lodge.

In the middle of the space the fire was kindled, the smoke finding

escape through the opening in the saplings at the crown of the

structure. Despite the care with which the robes were joined together,

enough air stole through the crevices to give the necessary draught for

the chimney and furnish the occupants comparatively pure sustenance for

their lungs.

The bare ground was the only floor to these rude structures, but the

blankets and furs served as so many rugs, and the dwellings, with the

crackling fire in the center, could be made comfortable even in the

depth of the rigorous winters.

At that early day, more firearms than would be supposed were found

among the Indian tribes of the Northwest, though naturally the

old-fashioned bow and arrow were the main weapon. The flintlocks were

gotten by barter with tribes on the other side of the Rockies, who in

turn managed to buy them from the few ships that were beginning to

trade with the savages about the lower waters of the Columbia. These

guns were comparatively few in number, and it is hardly probable that

there were a score among the whole tribe. Few as were the firearms,

several good marksmen had been developed among the Blackfeet, and they

were naturally proud of their skill. When a party engaged in one of

their raids, all the muskets were taken with them. But ammunition was

used sparingly, for it necessitated long and expensive journeys through

the mountains to renew the supply. You remember that Mul-tal-la left

home with only his bow and arrow.

The messengers, when spending their brief time with our friends while

they were pushing toward the Pacific, heard of that new religion which

was professed not only by Deerfoot the Shawanoe, but by his companions.

It was so different from the pagan belief that the couple, upon their

return to the village, took care to make no mention of it; better to

leave that until the arrival of Deerfoot. At the same time the two

Blackfeet trembled when they thought of what was almost certain to take

place. Taggarak was a fierce heathen who would savagely resent any

interference with the crude belief that had belonged to his people from

time immemorial. A collision between him and Deerfoot, and perhaps with

his companions, was among the certainties of the near future.

Thus everything had been prepared for Mul-tal-la and the Shelton

brothers when one afternoon the three rode into the village, with

Zigzag the packhorse plodding at the rear of the procession. The

arrival made a hubbub of excitement, and it seemed as if the whole

settlement--men, squaws and children--gathered clamorously round the

horsemen, who dismounted and gazed about them with scarcely less

wonder.

The parents of Mul-tal-la remained in their own lodge. They must have

been more eager than any to welcome the son that had been gone so long

out of their world, but it would have been weakness on their part to

hasten to greet him. Besides, he must needs look after the white

youths, who had now become more dependent than ever upon him.

The two former acquaintances were among the first to crowd forward to

welcome the boys and their old companion. There was no mistake as to

the genuineness of _their_ pleasure. They told of the quarters awaiting

the lads, who, remounting with Mul-tal-la, rode to the new residence

erected at the northern extremity of the Blackfoot town, with their

guides walking beside their animals.

Mul-tal-la was as stoical as any of his race, though he was yearning to

look upon that father and mother who would greet him, and he them, as

if they had been parted for only a few hours. Slipping to the ground

again, the three took a peep at the interior of the tepee which has

already been described to you. The boys expressed their delight and

thanked their friends over and over again. Then Mul-tal-la bade them

good-bye, promising to call in a short time, after which he lounged

away toward his own lodge. On the road he continually encountered his

old friends and exchanged greetings and talked with them as if glad of

an excuse for delaying his reunion with his parents.

One of the first bits of news imparted to the Blackfoot was that

Taggarak was absent on a visit to the farthest village to the north,

but was expected soon to return. Mul-tal-la was relieved to hear this,

for, despite the assurances of his friends, he dreaded the anger of the

terrible chieftain.

When within a hundred yards of his home, which remained closed as if

deserted, Mul-tal-la turned into the tepee where dwelt the parents of

the companion who had been buried hundreds of miles away. The father

sat on a pile of furs at one side of the lodge, stolidly smoking his

pipe. His squaw was kneeling in front of the burning wood and trying to

blow it into a blaze. They looked up as the visitor drew aside the flap

which served as a door. The old warrior removed the long stem from his

lips and grunted as he recognized the visitor. The squaw raised her

head, saw who the caller was, and resumed blowing the fire, as if she

had no interest in what he might say.

Mul-tal-la told briefly the particulars of what the couple already

knew, speaking words of praise for the lost one, and saying how sad his

heart had been since the dreadful accident that befell his companion.

The father replaced the stem in his mouth and slowly puffed. Once he

grunted, but did not speak a word. The mother continued to fill her

leathern cheeks with air and to blow upon the fagots that were burning

so strongly as not to need any urging. She did not speak nor look up

until several minutes after the departure of Mul-tal-la.

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