SUMMONED TO COURT.
At the end of a week George and Victor Shelton had become full-fledged
Blackfoot citizens. Several causes united to bring about this pleasant
state of affairs. In the first place, the boys used tact and good
sense. If the attention they drew to themselves became annoying at
times they did not allow their new friends to see it. They played with
the dusky youths, and were not sorry to find plenty no older than they
who could outrun and outjump them. It was too cold to go in swimming,
but one day when George and Victor were crossing the stream in front of
the village with three other lads, one of whom was their young friend
Smiler, heir apparent to the Blackfoot throne, the overloaded canoe
suddenly sank below its gunwales, and all had to swim through the icy
waters to shore. Every one of the three arrived first, and Smiler beat
them all, though in this instance I cannot help suspecting that the two
young Blackfeet favored the prince, but they beat the brothers fairly.
When the weather was good there were sometimes as many as fifty lads
playing on the common or cleared space at the rear of the village. They
indulged in a species of foot-ball, like the modern game, which was
marked by the roughest kind of play. In violence it sometimes
approached our own foot-ball, and blows were often given and received
in the fierce rushing.
On a certain forenoon, in a particularly exciting contest, one of the
players landed a blow on the side of Victor's head, which sent him
sprawling to earth. His quick temper flashed into a flame, and he
leaped up with doubled fists and made for the offender, who coolly
awaited him. A warning cry from George recalled his brother to his
senses, and, instead of attacking his assailant, he laughingly plunged
into the melee, which went on as merrily as before.
When five Indian youths invited their guests to go on a hunt the boys
took their rifles, but their hosts carried only bows and arrows. On the
return of the tired party at nightfall they brought the choice portions
of three antelopes, two of which were slain by the youthful Blackfeet,
while the one that George Shelton had brought down received also an
effective thrust from an arrow. The dusky hunters "guyed" the palefaces
who could not do as well as they with their primitive weapons, even
though the fire spouted from the iron tubes and the balls that could
not be seen by the eye carried death farther than did the missiles
launched by the natives. George and Victor took it all in good part,
and did not resent the taunts that were numerous.
Another strong contributing cause to the popularity of the Shelton boys
was Mul-tal-la, He was home but a short time when everyone in the
village knew of the generous hospitality he had received from the boys
and their friends. This appeal to the gratitude of the Blackfeet
produced the best effect. Mul-tal-la and the messengers, Spink and
Jiggers, had something to add, and their stories of the remarkable
young Shawanoe roused much curiosity to see him and witness some of the
exploits of which he was said to be capable.
Chief Taggarak did not return until nearly a week after the arrival of
the brothers, and then he kept much to himself. He was reserved and
gloomy, and though George and Victor caught several glimpses of him,
and though they continued to make much of his two boys, for the younger
moved about the settlement as freely as the elder, the great war chief
ignored the presence of the visitors until he had been at home for
several days.
One afternoon, after the return of a party from a hunt, Mul-tal-la
appeared at the lodge of George and Victor with word that the chief
wished them to come before him for a talk. The boys knew so little of
the Blackfoot tongue that Mul-tal-la was to act as interpreter.
"What does he wish with us?" asked George, who, like Victor, felt some
misgiving as to the object of this command.
"Mul-tal-la does not know, but his brothers need have no fear."
"What did he say to you?" asked Victor.
"Only that he wished to see and talk with you. Come with me."
It was about the middle of the afternoon when the lads, under the lead
of their dusky friend, threaded their way among the tepees to one near
the middle of the village, which might be considered the royal
residence. This structure differed from the others in that it was
double the capacity of an ordinary lodge, that one side consisted of a
broad face of rock, that it was in the shape of a square, supported at
two corners by upright poles, the rock serving as the remaining
support. The fire was always kindled against the base of this mass of
stone, an opening just above serving as an outlet for the smoke.
When the visitors arrived Taggarak was alone, seated at one side of the
large apartment, with a small fire burning in its usual place. His
royal consort and two children were excluded from the conference.
The war chief was about forty years of age, and his face showed him to
be a man of exceptional ability and mental strength. It was easy to
understand the iron will with which he ruled the turbulent and warlike
Blackfeet. He had thrown aside his blanket and sat in a close-fitting
shirt of deerskin, with girdle at the waist, and with leggings and
moccasins.
Taggarak was not a handsome Indian, but he was of striking mien. His
long black hair, without ornament of any kind, dangled about his
shoulders; his mouth was broad; his nose well formed; his eyes black
and piercing, rather small, and seemed to glitter with fire from under
his eyebrows. His cheek-bones were prominent, the chin square and firm,
and the expression of the countenance stern to the last degree.
Wrinkles already showed in his low, wide forehead and at the corners of
his eyes. There were two scars on one cheek, and his arms and body, had
they been uncovered, would have revealed many more, for Taggarak was a
mighty warrior, who had beaten down many foes in single combat, and had
eagerly risked his life in resisting the desperate raids made against
his tribe, or in pushing invasions among others of his own race. Unlike
many of his own people, he never was vain enough to wear the
scalp-lock, nor did he disfigure his face with paint. When he went upon
the warpath his enemies speedily found it out, without any such
childish notices.
Mul-tal-la led the way into the imperial wigwam, the brothers closely
following. The three respectfully saluted the chief, who looked keenly
at them as they entered, and, without returning their greeting, pointed
to a pile of furs on the farther side of the lodge, where the callers
seated themselves, removed their caps, and awaited the pleasure of the
great man.
[Illustration: An Ominous Interview.]
You will be better pleased with a free translation of the conversation,
remembering that Mul-tal-la acted as the mouthpiece of the chief and
the boys, though the latter had picked up enough knowledge of the
tongue to catch the meaning of a good many of the words spoken by
Taggarak, who, of course, knew nothing of English.
"My sons have come a long way from the land of the rising sun. Why did
they leave their friends to make so long a journey?"
"We loved Mul-tal-la, and wished to look upon the great and good
chieftain Taggarak, of whom Mul-tal-la said many words of praise."
This reply was made by Victor, and was duly filtrated through the
interpreter, who was pleased with the words so flattering to himself.
It must be admitted that when Victor tried his hand he showed himself a
promising student of diplomacy.
George thought it well to add his answer:
"Hunters told us of the great land that lay toward the setting sun, and
we longed to look upon it, as Mul-tal-la and his friend longed to look
upon the country where we make our home."
"When do my sons go back to their dwelling place?"
"The snows will be deep in the mountains for many moons; the palefaces
will perish if they try to labor through them. They will wait till the
sun melts the snows, and the buds come on the trees and the singing of
the birds trembles in the air. They will be glad to do this if the
great Taggarak is not displeased to have them stay among his people."
This had the sound of a hint for an invitation. Being such, however, it
failed of its purpose, for the chieftain ignored it. Perhaps he did not
think it worth the trouble to tell the youths they were welcome; that
was to be assumed from the hospitality already shown them.
"Taggarak has heard of a wonderful warrior who came from the land of
the rising sun. Where is he?"
"He has a horse that he loved, which was lost, and he is searching for
him."
"There are many horses among the Blackfeet; he could have one of them."
"But there is none like the black stallion of Deerfoot."
"Where did the warrior get him!"
"The stallion was the leader of a drove of wild horses. Deerfoot sought
him out and conquered him without saddle or bridle or the help of
anyone."
This statement seemed so incredible that Mul-tal-la felt it necessary
to add his own statement that the words of the pale-faced lad were
true, for he had seen the exploit of the Shawanoe with his own eyes.
Even then it is to be feared the chieftain refused to believe the
story.
"Are all the Shawanoes like this warrior!"
"There is none like him," was the reply of Victor Shelton, whose full
answer was faithfully translated to Chief Taggarak. "The Shawanoes, nor
Wyandots, nor Chippewas, nor Nez Perces, nor Shoshones, nor
Assiniboines, nor any tribe are as great as the Blackfeet. Had Deerfoot
been a member of any of them, he would have been the greatest among
them all, with the exception of the mighty Taggarak, whom no one can
equal."
Ah, but this youth from the Buckeye State was sly. He looked at the
rigid coppery countenance of the chieftain as these words were
interpreted to him. The youth thought he detected a sparkle of the
small black eyes, but I fear it was only fancy.
"Why is he called Deerfoot?"
"The palefaces gave him that name because no deer can run as fast as
he."
"My sons speak with a double tongue," said the chief, frowning.
"They might in the presence of anyone but Taggarak, but to him they use
only a single tongue. Let the great chieftain wait and see Deerfoot for
himself."
Unquestionably Victor was advancing fast along the path of diplomacy.
"When will the Shawanoe be with the Blackfeet, who wait to welcome
him?"
"We hope not many suns will set before he comes; but he has had a long
way to journey, and may have to slay other warriors that are not
willing to let Deerfoot have his steed."
"The Shawanoe may fall and never see his paleface brothers again."
"We have no fear of that," airily replied George. The next question of
Taggarak was as startling as unexpected:
"Does the Shawanoe teach the religion of the red men or that of the
palefaces?"
The brothers looked significantly at each other as Mul-tal-la
translated these words, but Victor scarcely hesitated in his reply.
"Deerfoot teaches the religion that he believes is true. It is of a
Great Spirit, who wishes his children to live in friendship with one
another; not to make war; to show mercy to all; to be forgiving and do
what they can to make other people happy. Such is the wish of the Great
Spirit. Deerfoot lives according to that faith, and we believe in it,
and try to do as he does."
The chief looked steadily in the face of the youth while he was
speaking, though he did not understand a syllable until it was properly
rendered by Mul-tal-la. Victor gazed as unflinchingly into the fierce
countenance before him, while uttering the noble sentiments. His
self-respect forbade any shrinking on his part when such a question was
put to him. As the interpreter waited for him to finish, Victor added:
"Tell him exactly what I said."
"And that the answer is from both of us," added George.
Mul-tal-la obeyed, but carefully refrained from saying that he, too,
had accepted the new religion, and that the warriors who acted as
messengers were pondering over it, and had spoken to some of their
comrades on the momentous theme. It is not for us to censure the red
man if he was cautious, for, if need be, he was ready to die for the
truth.
The thin lips of Taggarak curled with scorn when he caught the full
meaning of the reply of the youth. His patience was gone.
"The Shawanoe does not belong to the tribe of Taggarak. My sons, the
palefaces, are of another race; they may believe any lies they choose,
for it is naught to Taggarak. But none of Taggarak's people shall
believe it! And if the Shawanoe seeks to turn them from the faith of
their fathers, the Shawanoe shall die! My sons will tell the Shawanoe
what Taggarak has said, that when he comes among the Blackfeet he shall
live. Taggarak has spoken, and my sons may go. They will not forget the
words of Taggarak."