LIGHT IN DARKNESS.
It must not be thought that the large assemblage which had gathered in
the Big Lodge were of one mind, or even that a majority were ready to
accept the new religion that was explained to them by its model
exemplar, Deerfoot the Shawanoe. A few yearned for the light, and had
already learned enough of the elemental truths to be drawn toward them;
but the majority were attracted by that potent cause--curiosity. They
listened closely. The simple words of the preacher showed clearly that
the new faith was the opposite of the old; that, if accepted by them,
it meant a revolution in their beliefs and practices.
Most of the men and a few of the women revolted at the thought. To them
the most powerful of motives in human conduct were those of revenge, of
prowess in battle, and of mercilessness toward an enemy. To be told
that they must root out this passion and be governed by the Golden Rule
was turning themselves into squaws, and spurning that nobility which is
the crowning glory of the red man's life. Their demeanor was stolid.
The wise Deerfoot plainly saw, however, that his doctrine found favor
with only a few. He made his appeal as clear and direct as he knew how,
but he did not need to be told that he was only partially successful.
The dramatic entrance and declaration by Chief Taggarak of the "pangs
of transformation" through which he had passed and his emergence into
the new light could not fail to be impressive and to add to the force
of what had just been said by the Shawanoe. None the less, it had also
an opposite effect in some cases. The warriors who had accepted the
leadership for years of one of the greatest chiefs that ever swayed the
destinies of the Blackfoot people now repudiated him. He upon whom they
had relied so long to lead them in battle and of whose unquestioned
bravery and prodigious prowess all knew, had become a woman! But _they_
would remain true warriors and maintain the prestige of their tribe as
among the most aggressive in the Northwest.
Still Taggarak swept a number with him. Probably when he was through
with his burning appeal a fifth of those present were under
"conviction," and could be counted upon in favorable circumstances to
become believers in the faith preached by the One who spake and taught
as never man spake and taught. It may be said that a half of that
number were resolute in this decision. Their sentiments were
crystallized. The seed had been sown on good ground and was bearing
fruit.
The young Shawanoe was tactful. For him to attempt to add anything to
the words of Taggarak would be to weaken them. They were the climax,
and silence was golden. Throughout the eloquent appeal of the chief,
Deerfoot stood with his hands idly folded behind him, his eyes fixed
upon the face of Taggarak, whose pose gave a good view of his features,
and listening in the very intentness of his soul. When the chief had
uttered his last word he gathered his blanket about his shoulders and
strode out of the Big Lodge, looking neither to the right nor left, and
again failing to notice his wife and little boy, who sat on the ground
and whom he brushed as he passed into the open air. He did not glance
behind, but continued his dignified, deliberate stride till he was
hidden from sight among the trees beyond the cleared space.
Before this, Deerfoot, without speaking a word, picked his way through
the throng, who surveyed him curiously but did not stir until he was
outside. The Shawanoe glanced at George and Victor Shelton, and by a
look indicated that they were to follow him. They did so, silent like
the others, and the three returned to their own tepee without
exchanging a word on the road. They were awed by what they had seen and
heard, and respected their friend too much to break in upon his
meditations. He sat down on the furs in his usual place and they busied
themselves with what may be considered their household duties, speaking
only now and then to each other. The afternoon was drawing to a close,
and, but for the fire that was kept burning, it would have been dark
within the lodge. They prepared their meal, but when Deerfoot was
invited to eat he shook his head, rose to his feet and passed out.
The Shawanoe had no more time than to straighten up in the open air
when he was face to face with Mul-tal-la, who was on his way to see
him. They pressed each other's hand and the visitor said:
"Chief Taggarak wishes that his brother the Shawanoe shall come to his
lodge."
"Deerfoot goes there," replied the youth, who had been meditating doing
so. "Will my brother go with Deerfoot?"
"Only to the lodge. Taggarak does not wish to see _him_."
The two walked side by side, the hearts of both full. It was so dark
that they drew no attention to themselves. Just before the well-known
home of the chief was reached, Mul-tal-la turned off without so much as
a farewell word.
The war chief was expecting his visitor. He had sent his wife and boy
away in order that he might be alone with the Shawanoe. He sat with his
back against the rock, his position allowing the firelight to show his
face clearly, especially one side of it. As he recognized his visitor
he smiled and extended his hand, after the manner of white men.
Deerfoot quickened his pace and grasped the palm and laid the other on
the shoulder of the chieftain. How different from their meeting by the
lookout rock several days before!
"The heart of Deerfoot is glad," said the visitor, in a low, tremulous
voice.
"Taggarak hears the birds sing again. There are no clouds before the
sun. He is happy, for the Great Spirit smiles upon him."
One of the most marvelous facts connected with the true religion, and
itself a proof of its divinity, is its complete adaptability to every
condition of life and to every degree of intelligence. Its essentials
are as readily grasped by the clodhopper as by the profoundest scholar
whose years are spent in delving into the mysteries of science. No
finite mind can fathom the mysteries of life, of death, of sleep, of
the beginning, the end, of eternity, of the real nature of the soul and
of God, how He came into existence; nor, indeed, shall we ever
comprehend in all their fullness the simplest phenomena around us. What
is the essence of color or taste or smell? How is the word spoken by us
understood by him to whom it is addressed? When we move a hand or foot,
where and how does the action _begin_? What is the theoretical limit of
divisibility or expansion? These and scores of similar questions have
only to be asked for us to feel the utter helplessness of our powers of
understanding.
But to the untutored savage, shivering in his rude wigwam and manacled
by his sombre superstitions, the essential facts for the saving of his
soul become as clear as the sun in the unclouded heavens. The man with
a dwarfed intellect can see as plainly as he whose telescope, sweeping
the heavens, carries his vision to the bounds of the universe.
"All our philosophic pedants, all our sons of science know
Not a whit more than that dullard knew a million years ago."
Deerfoot stayed with Taggarak for several hours. No one disturbed them,
and the chief would have kept his comforter still longer had not the
latter felt that it was better to leave the Blackfoot to his communings
with God.
When at last the Shawanoe emerged like a shadow from the lodge of the
chief he did not go to his own home. Instead, he turned off, passed
swiftly across the open space that had been the scene of so many
contests and games, entered the hilly section and did not pause until
he came to the place where he and Taggarak had fought several days
before.
Deerfoot had left his rifle at home and was alone. Folding his arms and
standing on the very spot where he had flung Taggarak to the earth and
held him at his mercy, he looked up at the faintly moonlit sky and
murmured:
"Deerfoot does not deserve such happiness as now fills his heart. He
thanks God for His mercy."
Never in all his brief but eventful career had the young Shawanoe felt
more unmistakably the presence of the Father whom he worshiped and
strove to obey. Ambition gratified, triumph obtained, earthly love,
physical or mental achievements, defeat of opponents, wealth, pleasure,
gratification of taste and longings, all these combined cannot give to
the human soul that thrilling happiness which kindles and glows and
burns into life when Conscience whispers, "Well done!" and we know that
some thought or word or deed of ours is pleasing to God.
Nothing was or could be more real to Deerfoot than the cause of the
radiance that suffused his being when he came from the lodge of the
Blackfoot chieftain. Science may try to explain such emotions as an
exaltation resulting from physical causes, but no such explanation can
suffice. We feel that which we feel and know that which we know.