CHAPTER XXVIII.

RETROSPECT.[2]

"I am the son and only child of Taggarak, a leading war chief for many

years of the Blackfoot Indians. I had an elder brother, but he died

before reaching manhood. I remember the visit made by Deerfoot the

Shawanoe to our tribe, in the autumn and winter of 1804 and 1805. He

came from Ohio, in company with two brothers named Shelton, that were

white, and with Mul-tal-la, who belonged to our own people, and had

made the journey eastward into the Shawanoe country. Mul-tal-la had a

companion when he left us, but he was accidentally killed after

arriving in the East.

"I was not quite five years old when I first saw Deerfoot and his two

friends, yet I can never forget him, for he was the most remarkable

youth, white or red, that I ever met."

[2] Statement of Ap-pa-pa-alk, a member of the Blackfoot tribe,

given to Rev. J. Y. Dilworthy, missionary, on the 21st of

October, 1869.

(Here follows a description of Deerfoot's appearance, his traits, his

skill with rifle and bow, his athletic prowess and his unequaled

woodcraft. This need not be repeated, since you are familiar with it.

The statement which follows, however, is one of the most remarkable

ever penned.)

"I was in the Big Lodge on the afternoon Deerfoot spoke to many of our

people of the white man's God, who, he said, was the God of the red man

as well. Young as I was, I stood at the knee of my mother, thrilled and

almost breathless under the spell of the simple eloquence of the

Shawanoe, many of whose words I remember. In the midst of his address

my father, Chief Taggarak, strode into the lodge. He passed so close to

me that his knee brushed my shoulder. My mother and I looked up at him,

but he did not see us, nor did he notice anyone except Deerfoot. His

eyes were fixed on the young Shawanoe, and we all thought he meant to

attack him.

"Deerfoot saw him enter, stopped speaking and looked steadily at the

chief as he drew near. Deerfoot always carried his knife at his girdle,

though of course he had laid aside his gun. I remember wondering why he

did not draw his weapon, but, instead of doing so, he placed his hands

behind his back and calmly surveyed Taggarak, without the least sign of

fear. From what I afterward learned, I am sure that if my father had

attacked the Shawanoe, the chief would have been quickly overcome, if

not killed.

"Within two paces of Deerfoot, Taggarak wheeled about, _faced_ his

people and made an impassioned avowal of his belief in the Christian

religion. He declared that the true God had spoken to him when he tried

to hide himself in the woods and to close his ears against His words.

That God had not allowed him to sleep or eat or drink or rest till he

threw himself on his face, and with streaming eyes begged Him to

forgive and take him into His favor.

"Never was there such excitement among the Blackfoot tribe as was

caused by the declaration of their greatest war chief that he had

become a Christian. It almost rent the tribe in twain. We had a number

of villages and different chiefs, but Taggarak was the greatest of them

all.

"It was clear to everyone that he looked upon Deerfoot the Shawanoe as

more than an ordinary human being. In truth I thought and still think

the same, and I believe you will agree with me when you hear the rest

of my story. Taggarak asked Deerfoot whether he should give up his

chieftaincy, and was ready to do whatever the Shawanoe advised.

Deerfoot told him to remain chief as long as he lived, but to be

merciful to his enemies, never to fight except in defence of his home

and people, and to pray to God morning and night and to do all he could

to please Him in his actions, his words and his thoughts. Deerfoot did

much in the way of teaching him, and Taggarak became a Christian, as

did my mother and myself and others of our tribe, though I never

understood all the height and depth and breadth of God's love and plans

until I had grown to manhood and talked with the missionaries.

"Christianity would have been firmly planted among my people but for

the acts of the white men themselves. When the expedition of Lewis and

Clark came through our country one of them killed a Blackfoot. No doubt

there was some justification for the act, but it made our tribe the

enemies of the white men, and many who professed to love the God of the

palefaces now cast away such love and would have none of it. Taggarak

was much grieved and indignant over the action of the white men, but

nothing could weaken or shake his faith in Christianity."

(The incident alluded to occurred July 27, 1806. A party of Blackfeet

stole a number of horses belonging to Lewis and Clark's party, were

pursued, and one of the Indians killed and another wounded. The tribe

was so embittered toward the whites that they were treacherous enemies

to them for many years afterward.)

"From the year following this sad event, however, the authority of

Taggarak waned. He did not care for power, and was content to let it

slip gradually from him and pass to others. I could have become chief

had I wished it, but I knew I was distrusted because I professed

Christianity, and the Blackfeet and I thought so differently about

everything that I remained a simple warrior, content to serve my father

and mother, as an obedient son.

"I did not know for years of the encounter between Taggarak and

Deerfoot in the wood, when the chief sought his life, but was overcome

and then spared by the Shawanoe. Deerfoot never spoke of it, and I was

almost grown when my father told my mother and me of the strange

incident, which was the means of the chief's accepting the religion

that the youth taught by word and example.

"When Deerfoot left our village, Taggarak begged him to visit him

again. He urged so hard that the youth said he would do so if he could,

but he saw little hope and thought their next meeting would have to

wait till both passed into the hunting grounds above.

"Taggarak meditated much over the coming of Deerfoot. As he grew older

he often went to the elevation, a little way from our village, and near

where he had been overcome by the Shawanoe, and passed hours gazing

toward the East, looking and hoping for sight of the youth who did not

come. He always went alone to the spot and did not suspect his action

was noticed by anyone. But at the request of my mother, I stealthily

followed the chief. He seated himself on a broad, flat rock, which gave

him a view of many miles of mountain, wood and stream, and it seemed

that for the hour I watched him he never took his gaze from the point

in the sky where the sun first showed itself. I have sometimes wondered

whether my father mistook any approaching warrior for the Shawanoe. I

never learned, for not once did he ever refer to those lonely visits to

the elevation.

"One day my father said, with his old sternness of manner, that since

Deerfoot was not coming to see him, I must take a message to the

Shawanoe in his distant home. It was a startling command, but was not

unwelcome to me. I had heard much of the white man's country, and knew

the palefaces were fast pushing into our own. I had listened to

Mul-tal-la's wonderful stories times without number, and often resolved

that when an opportunity came I should visit the white towns and

settlements.

"I was glad, therefore, when my father spoke as he did, and still more

glad when Mul-tal-la, although he had a wife and two children, offered

to go with me. He was anxious to see Deerfoot and the acquaintances he

had made many years before, whose memory was always a pleasure to him.

"My father's message to the Shawanoe amounted to little. I was to tell

him the chief was still true to his faith, and to ask him whether he

could come to the chief, and, if he could not, whether he still

remembered Taggarak. That was all.

"I was a grown man when, with Mul-tal-la as my companion, I rode down

from the Blackfoot country and we set out on the long journey he had

made more than twenty years before. He remembered every river, stream,

mountain and prairie, though the settlements had brought many changes,

and on the way to the Ohio he met several acquaintances.

"It would be of no interest to tell of our journey, though we had more

than one adventure. The first place we visited was the little town of

Woodvale, so familiar to Mul-tal-la, and which had grown to that extent

that it had taken a new name.

"There we found George and Victor Shelton, almost in middle life, both

married and among the leading citizens. They were filled with joy to

see Mul-tal-la, and did all they could to make our visit pleasant. But

we had talked only a little while when we were grieved to learn that

Deerfoot, who had moved to the west of the Mississippi, had been dead a

good many years. Not only that, but the manner of his death was the

saddest of which I had ever heard. (See "The Last War Trail.")

"We stayed for several weeks in Ohio and met many old friends of the

Shawanoe. The one whom I best remember was Simon Kenton, who had great

fame as a hunter, and who had always been a close comrade of Deerfoot.

He was an old man when I saw him, but as strong and active as many who

had lived only half his years. He came to Woodvale the night before we

left on our return and stayed with Victor Shelton. His eyes filled with

tears when he spoke of Deerfoot, and said that the memory of the brave,

blameless life he lived in all circumstances had more to do with making

Kenton himself a Christian than did the camp meeting at which he

professed conversion.

"Well, we set out for home, and though a part of the journey was made

in winter we met with no mishap. When we arrived, Mul-tal-la went

straight to his lodge to see his wife and children and I hurried to my

home, where I knew the chief had long expected me. I was greatly

relieved to find him and my mother well.

"When I came into my father's presence, and before I had time to do

more than speak my pleasure, he raised his hand as a command for me to

keep silent.

"'I know what you would say, but you need not tell me. Deerfoot has

been here and told me all.'

"'But Deerfoot is dead,' I replied; 'that cannot be.'

"'Did I not say he has visited me since you were gone, and told me

all?'

"And then, forbidding me to open my lips, he related the full story of

Deerfoot's death. He gave the particulars, and was not wrong in the

slightest one. The chief need not have forbidden me to speak, for I

could not say a word for a long time afterward. He told me nothing

more. I cannot explain it."

(Possibly psychologists may find the explanation of this remarkable

fact in mental telepathy, but how shall we explain the still more

extraordinary statement that follows?)

"My mother had grown old and feeble and died a few months after I came

home. I noticed that father stopped going to the elevation beyond the

village and looking toward the rising sun for the coming of Deerfoot.

Nor did he seem to wish to speak of him, though I know the Shawanoe was

much in his thoughts. The chief gradually failed, and when the weather

grew cold he did not leave his lodge.

"He and I lived together. I gave him affectionate attention and did not

let him lack for comfort. Others often visited him, for the Blackfeet

could not forget that he had been one of their greatest war chiefs. Our

lodge was not fashioned like the others. One side was the face of a

large rock, against which we always kindled the fire. At each of the

opposite two corners was a strong post. These were connected at the

tops by a horizontal beam and from each post was stretched another

beam, whose farther end rested on the rock. This and the three beams

gave support for the framework of the roof, which was made of the

boughs of trees. The sides and walls were of thick bark lined with

buffalo robes. This made the square room below free of all supports or

posts. My bed of furs was at one side and that of my father opposite.

An opening in the roof, where it joined the rock and exactly over the

fire, gave an outlet for the smoke.

"One calm, cold night in autumn, after I had piled a deal of wood on

the blaze and seen that my father was warmly wrapped in furs and

sleeping comfortably, I lay down and fell asleep almost at once. It

could not have been long afterward that I was awakened by the sound of

people talking together. At first I thought they were outside the

lodge, but the fire was burning so bright that it was like noonday

within and I saw that the two persons who were conversing were standing

only a few paces from me.

"One was Chief Taggarak, my father. His face was turned partly away and

toward me and there could be no mistake as to him. The other's back and

one shoulder hid his features, but something familiar in his appearance

and the sound of his voice struck me. While I was looking and listening

he shifted his position and I saw his face.

"_It was Deerfoot the Shawanoe!_

[Illustration: "It Was Deerfoot, The Shawanoe."]

"No one who had ever seen that Indian youth could possibly make an

error. I never looked upon such comely features or such a graceful

form, nor did I ever listen to so musical a voice. Like a person in a

dream, I felt no special surprise at seeing before me a person who had

died years before.

"I studied him from head to foot. One of the first things I noticed was

that the stained eagle feathers, which he always used to wear in his

hair, were not there, nor did he have his knife at his girdle nor was

his rifle in his hand. I don't suppose they have need of such things in

heaven.

"During this talk between Deerfoot and my father I did not speak or

rise to my feet. I expected the Shawanoe to say something to me and I

had no wish to break in upon the talk. They spent ten or fifteen

minutes thus, and then Deerfoot took the hand of my father, pressed it

warmly and turned to go. As he did so, he seemed for the first time to

see me. He stopped, looked down, smiled and uttered my name. Then he

checked himself, walked to the corner of the lodge, drew aside the

buffalo robe which served as a door and passed out into the night.

"My father stood for a minute looking after him, and then, with a

glowing face, turned to me:

"'Did you see him?'

"'I did, and heard his voice.'

"'You lost nothing of what he said to me?'

"'Not a word.'

"'Tell them to no one. Now sleep.'

"It was a long time before I closed my eyes, and when I did so the

wonderful words that had fallen from the lips of Deerfoot were in my

ears. To me the strangest part of this strange experience is that which

followed. When morning came I found I could not remember a syllable

that the Shawanoe had said. I spoke to my father, and he talked of the

visit of Deerfoot as he would have talked of the visit of one of our

own Blackfeet. I told him I had forgotten the Shawanoe's words and

asked him to tell them to me again. He replied that God did not wish me

to remember them and he denied my request, which I respected him too

much ever to repeat.

"Chief Taggarak lived several years longer. I have tried many times to

recall the words spoken by Deerfoot when he visited my father, but I

have never succeeded in bringing back a single one of them."

[THE END.]

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End of Project Gutenberg's Deerfoot in The Mountains, by Edward S. Ellis

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