"Think of home? I think of little else when I am not talking with you,
Harry. My dear mother is always in my thoughts, and my poor old father.
Home? ay; and darling Kate, too, is at my elbow night and day, with the
tears streaming from her eyes, and her ringlets scattered over my
shoulder, as I saw her the day we parted, beckoning me back again, or
reproaching me for having gone away--God bless her! Yes, I often, very
often, think of home, Harry."
Harry made no reply. His friend's words had directed his thoughts to a
very different and far-distant scene--to another Kate, and another
father and mother, who lived in a glen far away over the waters of the
broad Atlantic. He thought of them as they used to be when he was one
of the number, a unit in the beloved circle, whose absence would have
caused a blank there. He thought of the kind voice that used to read
the Word of God, and the tender kiss of his mother as they parted for
the night. He thought of the dreary day when he left them all behind,
and sailed away, in the midst of strangers, across the wide ocean to a
strange land. He thought of them now--_without_ him--accustomed to his
absence, and forgetful, perhaps, at times that he had once been there.
As he thought of all this a tear rolled down his cheek, and when Charley
looked up in his face, that tear-drop told plainly that he too thought
sometimes of home.
"Let us ask Redfeather to tell us something about the Indians," he said
at length, rousing himself. "I have no doubt he has had many adventures
in his life. Shall we, Charley?"
"By all means.--Ho, Redfeather! are you trying to stop the wind by
looking it out of countenance?"
The Indian rose, and walked towards the spot where the boys lay.
"What was Redfeather thinking about?" said Charley, adopting the
somewhat pompous style of speech occasionally used by Indians. "Was he
thinking of the white swan and his little ones in the prairie; or did he
dream of giving his enemies a good licking the next time he meets them?"
"Redfeather has no enemies," replied the Indian. "He was thinking of
the great Manito, [God] who made the wild winds, and the great lakes,
and the forest."
"And pray, good Redfeather, what did your thoughts tell you?"
"They told me that men are very weak, and very foolish, and wicked; and
that Manito is very good and patient to let them live."
"That is to say," cried Harry, who was surprised and a little nettled to
hear what he called the heads of a sermon from a redskin, "that _you_,
being a man, are very weak, and very foolish, and wicked; and that
Manito is very good and patient to let _you_ live?"
"Good," said the Indian calmly; "that is what I mean."
"Come, Redfeather," said Charley, laying his hand on the Indian's arm,
"sit down beside us, and tell us some of your adventures. I know that
you must have had plenty, and it's quite clear that we're not to get
away from this place all day, so you've nothing better to do."
The Indian readily assented, and began his story in English.
Redfeather was one of the very few Indians who had acquired the power of
speaking the English language. Having been, while a youth, brought much
into contact with the fur-traders, and having been induced by them to
enter their service for a time, he had picked up enough of English to
make himself easily understood. Being engaged at a later period of life
as guide to one of the exploring parties sent out by the British
Government to discover the famous North-west Passage, he had learned to
read and write, and had become so much accustomed to the habits and
occupations of the "palefaces," that he spent more of his time, in one
way or another, with them than in the society of his tribe, which dwelt
in the thick woods bordering on one of the great prairies of the
interior. He was about thirty years of age; had a tall, thin, but wiry
and powerful frame; and was of a mild, retiring disposition. His face
wore a habitually grave expression, verging towards melancholy; induced,
probably, by the vicissitudes of a wild life (in which he had seen much
of the rugged side of nature in men and things) acting upon a sensitive
heart and a naturally warm temperament. Redfeather, however, was by no
means morose; and when seated along with his Canadian comrades round the
camp fire, he listened with evidently genuine interest to their stories,
and entered into the spirit of their jests. But he was always an
auditor, and rarely took part in their conversations. He was frequently
consulted by the guide in matters of difficulty, and it was observed
that the "redskin's" opinion always carried much weight with it,
although it was seldom given unless asked for. The men respected him
much because he was a hard worker, obliging, and modest--three qualities
that ensure respect, whether found under a red skin or a white one.
"I shall tell you," he began, in a soft, musing tone, as if he were
wandering in memories of the past--"I shall tell you how it was that I
came by the name of Redfeather."
"Au!" interrupted Charley, "I intended to ask you about that; you don't
wear one."
"I did once. My father was a great warrior in his tribe," continued the
Indian; "and I was but a youth when I got the name.
"My tribe was at war at the time with the Chipewyans, and one of our
scouts having come in with the intelligence that a party of our enemies
was in the neighbourhood, our warriors armed themselves to go in pursuit
of them. I had been out once before with a war-party, but had not been
successful, as the enemy's scouts gave notice of our approach in time to
enable them to escape. At the time the information was brought to us,
the young men of our village were amusing themselves with athletic
games, and loud challenges were being given and accepted to wrestle, or
race, or swim in the deep water of the river, which flowed calmly past
the green bank on which our wigwams stood. On a bank near to us sat
about a dozen of our women--some employed in ornamenting moccasins with
coloured porcupine quills; others making rogans of bark for maple sugar,
or nursing their young infants; while a few, chiefly the old women,
grouped themselves together and kept up an incessant chattering, chiefly
with reference to the doings of the young men.
"Apart from these stood three or four of the principal men of our tribe,
smoking their pipes, and although apparently engrossed in conversation,
still evidently interested in what was going forward on the bank of the
river.
"Among the young men assembled there was one of about my own age, who
had taken a violent dislike to me because the most beautiful girl in all
the village preferred me before him. His name was Misconna. He was a
hot-tempered, cruel youth; and although I endeavoured as much as
possible to keep out of his way, he sought every opportunity of picking
a quarrel with me. I had just been running a race along with several
other youths, and although not the winner, I had kept ahead of Misconna
all the distance. He now stood leaning against a tree, burning with
rage and disappointment. I was sorry for this, because I bore him no
ill-will, and if it had occurred to me at the time, I would have allowed
him to pass me, since I was unable to gain the race at any rate.
"`Dog!' he said at length, stepping forward and confronting me, `will
you wrestle?'
"Just as he approached I had turned round to leave the place. Not
wishing to have more to do with him, I pretended not to hear, and made a
step or two towards the lodges. `Dog!' he cried again, while his eyes
flashed fiercely, and he grasped me by the arm, `will you wrestle, or
are you afraid? Has the brave boy's heart changed into that of a girl?'
"`No, Misconna,' said I. `You _know_ that I am not afraid; but I have
no desire to quarrel with you.'
"`You lie!' cried he, with a cold sneer,--`you are afraid; and see,' he
added, pointing towards the women with a triumphant smile, `the
dark-eyed girl sees it and believes it too!'
"I turned to look, and there I saw Wabisca gazing on me with a look of
blank amazement. I could see, also, that several of the other women,
and some of my companions, shared in her surprise.
"With a burst of anger I turned round. `No, Misconna,' said I, `I am
_not_ afraid, as you shall find;' and springing upon him, I grasped him
round the body. He was nearly, if not quite, as strong a youth as
myself; but I was burning with indignation at the insolence of his
conduct before so many of the women,--which gave me more than usual
energy. For several minutes we swayed to and fro, each endeavouring in
vain to bend the other's back; but we were too well matched for this,
and sought to accomplish our purpose by taking advantage of an unguarded
movement. At last such a movement occurred. My adversary made a sudden
and violent attempt to throw me to the left, hoping that an inequality
in the ground would favour his effort. But he was mistaken. I had seen
the danger, and was prepared for it, so that the instant he attempted it
I threw forward my right leg, and thrust him backwards with all my
might. Misconna was quick in his motions. He saw my intention--too
late, indeed, to prevent it altogether, but in time to throw back his
left foot and stiffen his body till it felt like a block of stone. The
effort was now entirely one of endurance. We stood, each with his
muscles strained to the utmost, without the slightest motion. At length
I felt my adversary give way a little. Slight though the motion was, it
instantly removed all doubt as to who should go down. My heart gave a
bound of exultation, and with the energy which such a feeling always
inspires, I put forth all my strength, threw him heavily over on his
back, and fell upon him.
"A shout of applause from my comrades greeted me as I rose and left the
ground; but at the same moment the attention of all was taken from
myself and the baffled Misconna by the arrival of the scout, bringing us
information that a party of Chipewyans were in the neighbourhood. In a
moment all was bustle and preparation. An Indian war-party is soon got
ready. Forty of our braves threw off the principal parts of their
clothing; painted their faces with stripes of vermilion and charcoal;
armed themselves with guns, bows, tomahawks, and scalping-knives, and in
a few minutes left the camp in silence, and at a quick pace.
"One or two of the youths who had been playing on the river's bank were
permitted to accompany the party, and among these were Misconna and
myself. As we passed a group of women, assembled to see us depart, I
observed the girl who had caused so much jealousy between us. She cast
down her eyes as we came up, and as we advanced close to the group she
dropped a white feather as if by accident. Stooping hastily down, I
picked it up in passing, and stuck it in an ornamented band that bound
my hair. As we hurried on, I heard two or three old hags laugh, and
say, with a sneer, `His hand is as white as the feather: it has never
seen blood.' The next moment we were hid in the forest, and pursued our
rapid course in dead silence.
"The country through which we passed was varied, extending in broken
bits of open prairie, and partly covered with thick wood, yet not so
thick as to offer any hindrance to our march. We walked in single file,
each treading in his comrade's footsteps, while the band was headed by
the scout who had brought the information. The principal chief of our
tribe came next, and he was followed by the braves according to their
age or influence. Misconna and I brought up the rear. The sun was just
sinking as we left the belt of wood land in which our village stood,
crossed over a short plain, descended a dark hollow, at the bottom of
which the river flowed, and following its course for a considerable
distance, turned off to the right and emerged upon a sweep of
prairie-land. Here the scout halted, and taking the chief and two or
three braves aside, entered into earnest consultation with them.
"What they said we could not hear; but as we stood leaning on our guns
in the deep shade of the forest, we could observe by their animated
gestures that they differed in opinion. We saw that the scout pointed
several times to the moon, which was just rising above the tree-tops,
and then to the distant horizon; but the chief shook his head, pointed
to the woods, and seemed to be much in doubt, while the whole band
watched his motions in deep silence but evident interest. At length
they appeared to agree. The scout took his place at the head of the
line, and we resumed our march, keeping close to the margin of the wood.
It was perhaps three hours after this ere we again halted to hold
another consultation. This time their deliberations were shorter. In a
few seconds our chief himself took the lead, and turned into the woods,
through which he guided us to a small fountain which bubbled up at the
root of a birch tree, where there was a smooth green spot of level
ground. Here we halted, and prepared to rest for an hour, at the end of
which time the moon, which now shone bright and full in the clear sky,
would be nearly down, and we could resume our march. We now sat down in
a circle, and taking a hasty mouthful of dried meat, stretched ourselves
on the ground with our arms beside us, while our chief kept watch,
leaning against the birch tree. It seemed as if I had scarcely been
asleep five minutes when I felt a light touch on my shoulder. Springing
up, I found the whole party already astir, and in a few minutes more we
were again hurrying onwards.
"We travelled thus until a faint light in the east told us that the day
was at hand, when the scout's steps became more cautious, and he paused
to examine the ground frequently. At last we came to a place where the
ground sank slightly, and at the distance of a hundred yards rose again,
forming a low ridge, which was crowned with small bushes. Here we came
to a halt, and were told that our enemies were on the other side of that
ridge; that they were about twenty in number, all Chipewyan warriors,
with the exception of one paleface--a trapper and his Indian wife. The
scout had learned, while lying like a snake in the grass around their
camp, that this man was merely travelling with them on his way to the
Rocky Mountains, and that, as they were a war-party, he intended to
leave them soon. On hearing this the warriors gave a grim smile, and
our chief, directing the scout to fall behind, cautiously led the way to
the top of the ridge. On reaching it we saw a valley of great extent,
dotted with trees and shrubs, and watered by one of the many rivers that
flow into the great Saskatchewan. It was nearly dark, however, and we
could only get an indistinct view of the land. Far ahead of us, on the
right bank of the stream, and close to its margin, we saw the faint red
light of watch-fires; which caused us some surprise, for watch-fires are
never lighted by a war-party so near to an enemy's country. So we could
only conjecture that they were quite ignorant of our being in that part
of the country; which was, indeed, not unlikely, seeing that we had
shifted our camp during the summer.
"Our chief now made arrangements for the attack. We were directed to
separate and approach individually as near to the camp as was possible
without risk of discovery, and then, taking up an advantageous position,
to await our chief's signal, which was to be the hooting of an owl. We
immediately separated. My course lay along the banks of the stream, and
as I strode rapidly along, listening to its low, solemn murmur, which
sounded clear and distinct in the stillness of a calm summer night, I
could not help feeling as if it were reproaching me for the bloody work
I was hastening to perform. Then the recollection of what the old woman
said of me raised a desperate spirit in my heart. Remembering the white
feather in my head, I grasped my gun and quickened my pace. As I neared
the camp I went into the woods and climbed a low hillock to look out. I
found that it still lay about five hundred yards distant, and that the
greater part of the ground between it and the place where I stood was
quite flat, and without cover of any kind. I therefore prepared to
creep towards it, although the attempt was likely to be attended with
great danger, for Chipewyans have quick ears and sharp eyes. Observing,
however, that the river ran close past the camp, I determined to follow
its course as before. In a few seconds more I came to a dark, narrow
gap where the river flowed between broken rocks, overhung by branches,
and from which I could obtain a clear view of the camp within fifty
yards of me. Examining the priming of my gun, I sat down on a rock to
await the chief's signal.
"It was evident, from the careless manner in which the fires were
placed, that no enemy was supposed to be near. From my concealment I
could plainly distinguish ten or fifteen of the sleeping forms of our
enemies, among which the trapper was conspicuous, from his superior
bulk, and the reckless way in which his brawny arms were flung on the
turf, while his right hand clutched his rifle. I could not but smile as
I thought of the proud boldness of the paleface--lying all exposed to
view in the grey light of dawn while an Indian's rifle was so close at
hand. One Indian kept watch, but he seemed more than half asleep. I
had not sat more than a minute when my observations were interrupted by
the cracking of a branch in the bushes near me. Starting up, I was
about to bound into the underwood, when a figure sprang down the bank
and rapidly approached me. My first impulse was to throw forward my
gun, but a glance sufficed to show me that it was a woman.
"`Wah!' I exclaimed, in surprise, as she hurried forward and laid her
hand on my shoulder. She was dressed partly in the costume of the
Indians, but wore a shawl on her shoulders and a handkerchief on her
head that showed she had been in the settlements; and from the lightness
of her skin and hair, I judged at once that she was the trapper's wife,
of whom I had heard the scout speak.
"`Has the light-hair got a medicine-bag, or does she speak with spirits,
that she has found me so easily?'
"The girl looked anxiously up in my face as if to read my thoughts, and
then said, in a low voice,--`No, I neither carry the medicine-bag nor
hold palaver with spirits; but I do think the good Manito must have led
me here. I wandered into the woods because I could not sleep, and I saw
you pass. But tell me,' she added, with still deeper anxiety, `does the
white-feather come alone? Does he approach _friends_ during the dark
hours with a soft step like a fox?'
"Feeling the necessity of detaining her until my comrades should have
time to surround the camp, I said: `The white-feather hunts far from his
lands. He sees Indians whom he does not know, and must approach with a
light step. Perhaps they are enemies.'
"`Do Knisteneux hunt at night, prowling in the bed of a stream?' said
the girl, still regarding me with a keen glance. `Speak truth,
stranger,' (and she started suddenly back); `in a moment I can alarm the
camp with a cry, and if your tongue is forked.--But I do not wish to
bring enemies upon you, if they are indeed such. I am not one of them.
My husband and I travel with them for a time. We do not desire to see
blood. God knows,' she added in French, which seemed her native tongue,
`I have seen enough of that already.'
"As her earnest eyes looked into my face a sudden thought occurred to
me. `Go,' said I, hastily, `tell your husband to leave the camp
instantly and meet me here; and see that the Chipewyans do not observe
your departure. Quick! his life and yours may depend on your speed.'
"The girl instantly comprehended my meaning. In a moment she sprang up
the bank; but as she did so the loud report of a gun was heard, followed
by a yell, and the war-whoop of the Knisteneux rent the air as they
rushed upon the devoted camp, sending arrows and bullets before them.
"On the instant I sprang after the girl and grasped her by the arm.
`Stay, white-cheek; it is too late now. You cannot save your husband,
but I think he'll save himself. I saw him dive into the bushes like a
caribou. Hide yourself here; perhaps you may escape.'
"The half-breed girl sank on a fallen tree with a deep groan, and
clasped her hands convulsively before her eyes, while I bounded over the
tree, intending to join my comrades in pursuing the enemy.
"As I did so a shrill cry arose behind me, and looking back, I beheld
the trapper's wife prostrate on the ground, and Misconna standing over
her, his spear uplifted, and a fierce frown on his dark face.
"`Hold!' I cried, rushing back and seizing his arm. `Misconna did not
come to kill _women_. She is not our enemy.'
"`Does the young wrestler want _another_ wife?' he said, with a wild
laugh, at the same time wrenching his arm from my gripe, and driving his
spear through the fleshy part of the woman's breast and deep into the
ground. A shriek rent the air as he drew it out again to repeat the
thrust; but before he could do so, I struck him with the butt of my gun
on the head. Staggering backwards, he fell heavily among the bushes.
At this moment a second whoop rang out, and another of our band sprang
from the thicket that surrounded us. Seeing no one but myself and the
bleeding girl, he gave me a short glance of surprise, as if he wondered
why I did not finish the work which he evidently supposed I had begun.
"`Wah!' he exclaimed; and uttering another yell plunged his spear into
the woman's breast, despite my efforts to prevent him--this time with
more deadly effect, as the blood spouted from the wound, while she
uttered a piercing scream, and twined her arms round my legs as I stood
beside her, as if imploring for mercy. Poor girl! I saw that she was
past my help. The wound was evidently mortal. Already the signs of
death overspread her features, and I felt that a second blow would be
one of mercy; so that when the Indian stooped and passed his long knife
through her heart, I made but a feeble effort to prevent it. Just as
the man rose, with the warm blood dripping from his keen blade, the
sharp crack of a rifle was heard, and the Indian fell dead at my feet,
shot through the forehead, while the trapper bounded into the open
space, his massive frame quivering, and his sunburned face distorted
with rage and horror. From the other side of the brake six of our band
rushed forward and levelled their guns at him. For one moment the
trapper paused to cast a glance at the mangled corpse of his wife, as if
to make quite sure that she was dead; and then uttering a howl of
despair, he hurled his axe with a giant's force at the Knisteneux, and
disappeared over the precipitous bank of the stream.
"So rapid was the action that the volley which immediately succeeded
passed harmlessly over his head, while the Indians dashed forward in
pursuit. At the same instant I myself was felled to the earth. The axe
which the trapper had flung struck a tree in its flight, and as it
glanced off the handle gave me a violent blow in passing. I fell
stunned. As I did so my head alighted on the shoulder of the woman, and
the last thing I felt, as my wandering senses forsook me, was her still
warm blood flowing over my face and neck.
"While this scene was going on, the yells and screams of the warriors in
the camp became fainter and fainter as they pursued and fled through the
woods. The whole band of Chipewyans was entirely routed, with the
exception of four who escaped, and the trapper whose flight I have
described; all the rest were slain, and their scalps hung at the belts
of the victorious Knisteneux warriors, while only one of our party was
killed.
"Not more than a few minutes after receiving the blow that stunned me, I
recovered, and rising as hastily as my scattered faculties would permit
me, I staggered towards the camp, where I heard the shouts of our men as
they collected the arms of their enemies. As I rose, the feather which
Wabisca had dropped fell from my brow; and as I picked it up to replace
it, I perceived that it was _red_, being entirely covered with the blood
of the half-breed girl.
"The place where Misconna had fallen was vacant as I passed, and I found
him standing among his comrades round the camp fires, examining the guns
and other articles which they had collected. He gave me a short glance
of deep hatred as I passed, and turned his head hastily away. A few
minutes sufficed to collect the spoils, and so rapidly had everything
been done that the light of day was still faint as we silently returned
on our track. We marched in the same order as before, Misconna and I
bringing up the rear. As we passed near the place where the poor woman
had been murdered, I felt a strong desire to return to the spot. I
could not very well understand the feeling, but it lay so strong upon me
that, when we reached the ridge where we first came in sight of the
Chipewyan camp, I fell behind until my companions disappeared in the
woods, and then ran swiftly back. Just as I was about to step beyond
the circle of bushes that surrounded the spot, I saw that some one was
there before me. It was a man, and as he advanced into the open space
and the light fell on his face, I saw that it was the trapper. No doubt
he had watched us off the ground, and then, when all was safe, returned
to bury his wife. I crouched to watch him. Stepping slowly up to the
body of his murdered wife, he stood beside it with his arms folded on
his breast and quite motionless. His head hung down, for the heart of
the white man was heavy, and I could see, as the light increased, that
his brows were dark as the thunder-cloud, and the corners of his mouth
twitched from a feeling that the Indian scorns to show. My heart is
full of sorrow for him now," (Redfeather's voice sank as he spoke); "it
was full of sorrow for him even _then_, when I was taught to think that
pity for an enemy was unworthy of a brave. The trapper stood gazing
very long. His wife was young; he could not leave her yet. At length a
deep groan burst from his heart, as the waters of a great river, long
held down, swell up in spring and burst the ice at last. Groan followed
groan as the trapper still stood and pressed his arms on his broad
breast, as if to crush the heart within. At last he slowly knelt beside
her, bending more and more over the lifeless form, until he lay extended
on the ground beside it, and twining his arms round the neck, he drew
the cold cheek close to his, and pressed the blood-covered bosom tighter
and tighter, while his form quivered with agony as he gave her a last,
long embrace. Oh!" continued Redfeather, while his brow darkened, and
his black eye flashed with an expression of fierceness that his young
listeners had never seen before, "may the curse--" He paused. "God
forgive them! how could they know better?
"At length the trapper rose hastily. The expression of his brow was
still the same, but his mouth was altered. The lips were pressed
tightly like those of a brave when led to torture, and there was a
fierce activity in his motions as he sprang down the bank and proceeded
to dig a hole in the soft earth. For half an hour he laboured,
shovelling away the earth with a large flat stone; and carrying down the
body, he buried it there, under the shadow of a willow. The trapper
then shouldered his rifle and hurried away. On reaching the turn of the
stream which shuts the little hollow out from view, he halted suddenly,
gave one look into the prairie he was thenceforth to tread alone, one
short glance back, and then, raising both arms in the air, looked up
into the sky, while he stretched himself to his full height. Even at
that distance I could see the wild glare of his eye and the heaving of
his breast. A moment after, and he was gone."
"And did you never see him again?" inquired Harry Somerville eagerly.
"No, I never saw him more. Immediately afterwards I turned to rejoin my
companions, whom I soon overtook, and entered our village along with
them. I was regarded as a poor warrior, because I brought home no
scalps, and ever afterwards I went by the name of _Redfeather_ in our
tribe."
"But are you still thought a poor warrior?" asked Charley, in some
concern, as if he were jealous of the reputation of his new friend.
The Indian smiled. "No," he said: "our village was twice attacked
afterwards, and in defending it Redfeather took many scalps. He was
made a chief!"
"Ah!" cried Charley, "I'm glad of that. And Wabisca, what came of her?
Did Misconna get her?"
"She is my wife," replied Redfeather.
"Your wife! Why, I thought I heard the voyageurs call your wife the
white swan."
"_Wabisca_ is _white_ in the language of the Knisteneux. She is
beautiful in form, and my comrades call her the white swan."
Redfeather said this with an air of gratified pride. He did not,
perhaps, love his wife with more fervour than he would have done had he
remained with his tribe; but Redfeather had associated a great deal with
the traders, and he had imbibed much of that spirit which prompts
"_white men_" to treat their females with deference and respect--a
feeling which is very foreign to an Indian's bosom. To do so was,
besides, more congenial to his naturally unselfish and affectionate
disposition, so that any flattering allusion to his partner was always
received by him with immense gratification.
"I'll pay you a visit some day, Redfeather, if I'm sent to any place
within fifty miles of your tribe," said Charley, with the air of one who
had fully made up his mind.
"And Misconna?" asked Harry.
"Misconna is with his tribe," replied the Indian, and a frown overspread
his features as he spoke. "But Redfeather has been following in the
track of his white friends; he has not seen his nation for many moons."