The following day the Delawares waited impatiently for an opportunity to
venture into the village, and learn the result of the battle. However,
the day was more than half gone before any one came to the lodge to free
them. Then a warrior came, and unbound them. He made them understand
that they might go into the camp, and partake of food.
“This is bad,” said Running Fox, as they left the lodge. “The Mohawks
kept us tied up until they closed up the place where the Chippewas got
in. Now there is no chance to get out.”
“Yes, I believe that is true,” agreed Spotted Deer.
They found the Mohawks still jubilant over their victory. The lads
realized, therefore, that it would be foolish to show themselves too
prominently at that time. Many of the younger warriors seemed carried
away by the glory of their first triumph, and the Delawares knew that
they would be only too willing to find an excuse for attacking them. For
some time the lads had been quite free from annoyance, and they had no
desire to lose the privileges which their long stay in the Mohawk camp
had brought them.
“Those young men are very fierce,” said Running Fox. “We must be very
cautious. I believe the best thing to do is to keep away from them.”
“Yes, I am watching them,” replied Spotted Deer. “We will take some
meat, and go back to the lodge.”
The Delawares made their way toward the old woman who had brought their
food. She was stirring something in a large clay urn which she had
propped up among the embers of the cooking fire. When the lads reached
her they stopped and waited expectantly. For some time the old woman
took no notice of them. Then the warrior who had unbound them shouted
some commands, and the woman immediately seized a forked stick and drew
a piece of deer meat from the urn. She gave it to the Delawares, and
motioned them away. Having learned the folly of opposing those irritable
old scolds, the lads determined to move off at once.
At that moment, however, some of the young Mohawks spied them, and ran
forward shaking their weapons, and yelling fiercely. The Delawares
immediately stopped and stood at bay. The Mohawks rushed up to them, and
tore the meat from the grasp of Spotted Deer. They threw it upon the
ground, and kicked it about in the dirt. Then one who appeared to be the
leader picked it up, and offered it to Spotted Deer. Before Running Fox
could warn him, Spotted Deer seized the meat and hurled it into the face
of the young Mohawk.
The next instant the enraged Mohawk and Spotted Deer were glaring
furiously into each other’s eyes. The Mohawk was only a lad, but he
looked considerably older and stronger than the Delaware. However,
Spotted Deer showed no fear of him. For a moment it looked as if the
friends of the Mohawk were about to take the matter out of his hands by
annihilating both of the Delawares. The one who had been insulted,
however, warned them against interfering. It was plain that he intended
to avenge the affront without assistance. His friends held back,
therefore, watching Running Fox. The latter realized that Spotted Deer
must settle the matter alone, but he determined to rush into the fight
at the first hint of the Mohawks reinforcing their tribesman.
Word of the impending battle had already been shouted through the camp,
and the Mohawks were running toward the spot from all parts of the
village. They formed a square about Spotted Deer and his adversary, but
showed no inclination to interfere with either of them. Running Fox
stood several bow-lengths from his friend, staring defiantly at the
young Mohawks.
For some moments the young warriors continued to glare at each other.
Each appeared to be trying to frighten the other, but neither seemed
much alarmed. Then, as his people urged him on, the Mohawk crouched and
began to circle about Spotted Deer, with his war-club in his hand. The
Delaware straightened and opened his palms, as he smiled scornfully at
his foe. For a moment the Mohawk hesitated. Then he accepted the
challenge, and threw down his weapon. A murmur of approval ran through
the Mohawks. Running Fox felt greatly relieved.
The Mohawk continued to circle cautiously about Spotted Deer, looking
for an opening. The Delaware, however, was equally alert, and kept
turning slowly with his eyes fixed on those of his foe. Several times
the Mohawk crouched and pretended he was about to spring in, but each
time he found Spotted Deer ready for him. Then for many moments they
circled, and dodged, and tried for an advantage, while the Mohawks
shouted encouragement to their young tribesman, and Running Fox prayed
silently to Getanittowit for the success of Spotted Deer.
Then the Mohawk thought he saw a chance, and sprang forward with the
agility and strength of a young panther. However, Spotted Deer had
anticipated the attack, and jumped back in time to escape being caught.
He wheeled about, and sought to catch his foe, but the Mohawk had
already recovered himself and resumed his position of defense. Both lads
had given a wonderful exhibition of quickness, and the Mohawks yelled
their delight. They began to realize that the Delaware was no mean
adversary for his older and larger opponent, and the prospect of a
desperate encounter filled them with enthusiasm.
In the meantime Running Fox had remained an impassive spectator. He
never for an instant appeared to lose control of himself. To all
appearances he was absolutely confident about the outcome of the battle.
However, had the Mohawks been able to read his thoughts they would have
learned the true state of his feelings. He knew that the impulsive act
of Spotted Deer had placed them in a desperate situation, and he foresaw
serious consequences. If the young Mohawk should win the encounter,
Running Fox realized that they would be made to suffer all sorts of
indignities from the younger members of the tribe. On the other hand, if
Spotted Deer should vanquish his rival it was equally certain that the
Mohawks would find some way of avenging the defeat. Running Fox waited,
therefore, prepared to act when the emergency presented itself.
Spotted Deer was quick to realize that the advantage rested with his
adversary, and he made no attempt to force the fighting. He had been
thoroughly trained in the art of wrestling, and he determined to remain
on the defensive until he had provoked the young Mohawk into exposing
himself. The latter, however, appeared to have been equally well
schooled in that particular style of combat, and he, too, seemed intent
upon waiting for an advantage that would give him an easy victory. For a
long time he tried to trick the Delaware by jumping forward as though he
were about to grapple with him. It appeared to be a favorite ruse, and
he seemed considerably surprised when Spotted Deer refused to be
deceived. Then the latter began to laugh at him. It was a daring bit of
effrontery which instantly roused the anger of the Mohawk and his
tribesmen. The result was exactly what Spotted Deer wished it to be, for
the infuriated young Mohawk immediately lost control of himself.
Throwing aside his caution, he rushed recklessly upon his foe.
The Mohawk sprang toward Spotted Deer in an effort to seize him by the
throat. Spotted Deer dodged and tripped him. Then as the Mohawk stumbled
forward the Delaware sprang upon him, and bore him to the ground. The
next moment Spotted Deer found himself upon his back with his foe
striving to throttle him. Aware that he was battling for his life, the
Delaware fought with the fury of a wildcat. After a few moments of
desperate fighting he managed to wriggle free, and rise to his knees.
Then the Mohawk again forced him to the ground. This time, however,
Spotted Deer found an opening, and locked an arm about the neck of his
foe. With his free hand he began to beat the Mohawk fiercely in the
eyes. It was the only style of fighting he knew, and his foe was using
similar tactics against him. In this primitive mode of fighting there
was no thought of fair-play. The same code of honor prevailed among all
the tribes, namely to disable or kill an adversary in the quickest
possible manner, and to accept punishment and death without flinching.
Both young warriors had been trained in that rigorous code, and both
were making every effort to live up to its principles.
It soon became apparent that unless the Mohawk speedily broke from the
grip of his foe he was doomed. Spotted Deer had forced his head down
close to the ground, and was punishing him without mercy. The Mohawk was
fighting furiously to free himself, but Spotted Deer held on with grim
determination. It was a desperate battle in which fists, feet and teeth
all played a part.
The Mohawks were wild with excitement. They saw their young tribesman in
grave danger of defeat, and the thought drove them into a frenzy. They
began dancing madly about the fighters, yelling encouragement to the
Mohawk, and threatening his foe. Running Fox watched them with great
anxiety. He feared that the emergency he had dreaded was at hand.
Spotted Deer was slowly choking the Mohawk into a condition of utter
helplessness. He had him entirely at his mercy, and it was plain that he
had no idea of sparing him. It was also plain that the Mohawks were
about ready to rush to the assistance of their tribesman. At that
moment, however, the battle was unexpectedly ended by the father of the
lad who had befriended the Delawares. Rushing up to the fighters the
medicine-man seized Spotted Deer and pulled him to his feet. For a
moment the furious young Delaware seemed about to attack the man who had
snatched away his victory. However, a warning glance from Running Fox
told him his peril, and he submitted to the interference. Then the
friends of the defeated young warrior rushed toward the Delawares to
avenge their tribesman. They were met by the Mohawk medicine-man who
dispersed them, and escorted the Delawares to their lodge.
“Hi, that was a great fight,” laughed Spotted Deer, when they were
safely in the lodge.
“Yes, you were brave enough but you have done a bad thing,” said Running
Fox. “Now there is no chance for us. Listen, the Mohawks are yelling out
there in front of the lodge. Pretty soon we will be taken out there and
killed.”
They heard a great commotion before the lodge, and they had little doubt
that the friends of the vanquished Mohawk were demanding their lives.
They knew better than to show themselves. In a few moments the friendly
young Mohawk came to them.
“My friends, do you hear that noise?” he asked. “Well, do you know what
it means? The young men are very mad. They want to kill you. Do not be
afraid. My father and Standing Wolf are talking to them. Pretty soon
they will send them away. You were very brave. Some of my people feel
good toward you. But I warn you that you must not do any more fighting.
If you do you will surely be killed.”
“You have come to us like a good friend,” replied Running Fox. “We will
keep thinking about your words.”
The noise ceased soon after the young Mohawk left them, and the
Delawares believed that the disturbers had finally dispersed. It was
some time, however, before they thought it wise to show themselves in
the doorway of their lodge. Then they saw that the village had
apparently become quiet.
Several days later a large company of warriors suddenly left the camp,
and the Delawares were glad to see that most of the young men who had
annoyed them were members of the party. They wondered if it were a
war-party. It seemed unlikely, for the warriors had left the camp
without ceremony, and the people showed little interest in their
departure.
“I believe they are either hunters or scouts,” said Spotted Deer.
“There are too many for scouts,” Running Fox told him. “We must try to
find out about it I believe it is a good thing for us. Now the people
who troubled us have gone away. There are not many warriors about. It
will be a good time to try to do something.”
When the young Mohawk came to see them they tried to learn the purpose
and destination of the warriors who had left the camp. Their efforts
were in vain, however, for the Mohawk professed to know nothing about
it. When they continued to question him he grew angry, and left the
lodge.
“Now we have done another foolish thing,” said Running Fox. “We have
made that young man mad. Perhaps he might have helped us. Now he may
turn against us.”
“No, I do not believe that,” Spotted Deer assured him. “He is our
friend. He will not do anything to harm us.”
“Spotted Deer, we must do something before those young men come back,”
declared Running Fox. “There are three things to be done. First we must
find a way to get out of this camp. Then we must find something to fight
with. Then we must get that mysterious medicine-bundle.”
“Those are hard things to do,” said Spotted Deer.
“Well, we must do them,” replied Running Fox. “When it gets dark, and
the Mohawks go to the lodges, I am going to creep around the village and
see if there is any way to get out.”
“Running Fox, if you do that you will surely be killed,” warned Spotted
Deer.
“No, I will not get caught,” Running Fox assured him.
Late that night Running Fox left the lodge, and stole quietly through
the camp until he reached the stockade. It was the first time he had
dared to approach it, and as he crept cautiously along in its shadow his
heart beat fast with excitement. He knew that if he were discovered it
would mean death not only for himself, but for Spotted Deer as well. The
thought made him careful. Stealthily, a stride at a time, he moved
toward the entrance of the camp. When he finally came near it, he
stopped to listen. All seemed safe, however, and he went on. In a few
moments he reached the great barricade of logs that closed the stockade.
He spent some time trying to move them, but without result. It was
apparent that it would require the united efforts of a number of strong
men to open the way into the village. Realizing the folly of wasting his
strength, Running Fox turned his attention to the upper part of the
stockade. He found that by climbing on top of the logs that formed the
barricade he was more than half-way to the top of the stockade. The
discovery filled him with delight. He believed that by placing Spotted
Deer on the barricade and standing upon his shoulders he might be able
to spring up and grasp the top of the stockade. Then he knew it would be
possible to draw himself to the top. Once there he felt quite sure that
he could reach down, and find a way to rescue Spotted Deer.
When Running Fox returned to the lodge he found that Spotted Deer had
disappeared. The discovery filled him with alarm. He wondered what it
meant. All sorts of startling possibilities flashed into his mind.
However, while he was trying to puzzle it out Spotted Deer appeared.
“Well, what have you done?” Running Fox inquired, sharply.
“I have brought some things to fight with,” said Spotted Deer.
He had scouted about the camp, and found two bows, a war-club and a case
of arrows. Running Fox listened to the story of his exploit in
amazement. Spotted Deer said that he had entered two lodges, and moved
cautiously among the sleepers until he found what he wanted. Once he had
been compelled to lie in the shadows while a warrior passed within
bow-length of him.
“You have been very brave,” said Running Fox. “But perhaps the Mohawks
will miss these things. Then it may make trouble for us.”
“I do not believe anything will come of it,” laughed Spotted Deer.
“Well, we must hide them with great care,” said Running Fox.
“No, we must not hide them, we must use them,” Spotted Deer declared,
excitedly. “Running Fox, I have found the mysterious medicine-bundle!”
The announcement so astounded Running Fox that it was some moments
before he was able to speak. The thing seemed impossible. He feared to
believe it.
“Spotted Deer, your words have set me shaking like an old man,” he
stammered, “I know that you have told me what is true, and still I am
afraid to believe it.”
“What I tell you is true,” Spotted Deer assured him. “The mysterious
medicine-bundle is hanging in the sacred medicine-lodge.”
“How did you know about it?” inquired Running Fox.
“I did not know about it,” acknowledged Spotted Deer. “When you went out
to look for a way to get out of the camp, I said, ‘Now I must do
something.’ Then I thought about the mysterious medicine-bundle. I
wanted to find it. I believed it must be in the sacred lodge. I told you
about that. Well, I found the lodge, but I was afraid to go in. Yes, I
was afraid of the Bad Spirits that help the Mohawks. Well, I was ashamed
about that. I went in. I moved around. I saw the mysterious
medicine-bundle hanging on three sticks. Then I heard a noise. Something
squeaked like Achpoques, the wood-mouse. I believe it was a Bad Spirit.
Well, I was afraid to touch that mysterious medicine-bundle, because
nothing wonderful has ever happened to me. You have seen the Medicine
People. Nothing can harm you. Now you must go to the sacred lodge, and
carry out the mysterious Medicine Thing that gives Standing Wolf his
power over our people. It will soon be light. You must not wait.”
Running Fox hurriedly told his plan for escaping from the village. He
told Spotted Deer to wait for him near the entrance into the camp. Then
he hastened away to secure the sacred medicine-trophy. As Spotted Deer
had said, the night was three-quarters gone, and Running Fox knew that
there was not a moment to spare. Still he realized that it might be
fatal to his chances to postpone the attempt until the following day. He
knew, too, that the company of warriors might return at any moment, and
he believed that the wisest course would be to take advantage of the
opportunity which had presented itself.
As Running Fox saw the outlines of the sacred lodge looming up before
him, he stopped and raised his face toward the heavens. He prayed
fervently to Getanittowit to help him in the great thing he was about to
attempt. Then he spent some time listening. The camp was still, and he
advanced toward the lodge. He had almost reached it when he was stopped
by a noise behind him. Some one was approaching. His heart jumped wildly
at the thought. Still he determined to stand his ground. Having got that
near to the prize, he had no idea of surrendering without a struggle.
Spotted Deer had given him one of the bows and a handful of arrows, and
he prepared to surprise and attack whoever was stealing upon him under
cover of the night.
The moments passed and no one appeared. Running Fox grew impatient. He
looked anxiously toward the east and thought he detected the first faint
trace of dawn. Each instant he delayed strengthened the chance of
failure. The thought made him reckless. He turned to enter the lodge. At
that moment he heard a low threatening growl close beside him. Then the
truth instantly flashed through his mind. One of the dogs had got his
scent. He had been long enough in the camp to win the confidence of the
surly wolf-like creatures that abounded there, and once the dog
recognized him he had little fear that it would raise an alarm. Still he
determined to take no chances. As it came close to him, growling and
sniffing, he drove an arrow through its heart. It fell without a sound.
The next moment Running Fox entered the sacred lodge.
Once inside, the lad hesitated, for his heart suddenly became filled
with superstitious fear. He had heard many stories about the fierce
Medicine-Spirits whom his people blamed for the remarkable success of
Standing Wolf and his warriors, and he had little doubt that something
terrible was about to happen to him. Then he suddenly recalled the words
of Spotted Deer, ”You have seen the mysterious Medicine People. Nothing
can harm you.“ The assurance gave him confidence. He believed that to
hesitate longer would show lack of faith in Getanittowit, in old Sky Dog
and in the powerful Medicine Beings that had appeared in his dream.
Moving carefully toward the rear of the lodge, Running Fox located the
tripod of poles which held the mysterious medicine-bundle. For a moment
the Delaware feared to touch it, lest he should be instantly destroyed
by some strange Medicine Being. However, the thought of helping his
people made him bold, and he reached out and removed the bundle from the
poles. Then for some moments he worked feverishly at the fastenings.
When the bundle lay open before him his eager eyes quickly discovered
the sacred white pelt of Gokhos, the Medicine-Owl. As he finally held it
in his hands, the superstitious lad believed that he had suddenly
received the power of the famous Mohawk war-chief. Hastily retying the
medicine-bundle, he hung it in its accustomed place, and hurried from
the lodge.
Running Fox was running toward the stockade when he suddenly encountered
some one walking through the camp. They were face to face before either
of them realized it, and there was little chance of avoiding
recognition. Running Fox tried to withdraw into the night, but the
Mohawk jumped forward and peered intently into his face. He identified
him at once. Running Fox tried to use his bow, but the Mohawk was too
close. He seized the Delaware, and shouted to rouse the camp. He was a
large, powerful man, but Running Fox was too quick for him. He jabbed an
arrow directly into his face, and as the Mohawk shrank back the lad
wrenched himself free and darted toward his goal.
“Jump up there!” shouted Running Fox, when he reached Spotted Deer.
They climbed nimbly to the top of the log barricade that closed the
entrance to the village, and then Running Fox clambered upon the
shoulders of Spotted Deer. The camp was in a wild turmoil, and they knew
it was only a question of moments before the Mohawks would be upon them.
Running Fox found that he was almost a bow-length from the top of the
stockade. The distance was greater than he had expected to find it, and
for a moment he lost hope. Then, as he realized what it would mean to
fail, he sprang frantically upward. His fingers closed about the tops of
the logs, and he struggled furiously to hold fast. For a moment or so it
seemed as if he must slip back. Then he found a toe-hold against one of
the logs, and improved his grip on the top of the stockade. The next
moment he had drawn himself to the top.
“The Mohawks are here, jump down and save yourself,” cried Spotted Deer.
Running Fox took no heed of the warning. Instead he lay across the top
of the stockade, and reached down to rescue Spotted Deer.
“Jump up, I will help you!” he shouted.
A moment later they had clasped hands, and Spotted Deer was struggling
desperately to reach the top of the stockade. Arrows were already
whizzing past them, but as yet the darkness had saved them from harm.
Once Spotted Deer had gained the top of the stockade in safety, they
turned about and dropped to the ground on the outside of the camp. They
heard the Mohawks struggling frantically with the logs that closed the
doorway.
“Come, we must ran fast!” cried Running Fox, as he dashed for the woods.
“I will follow you,” replied Spotted Deer.
Then they heard a wild babel of sounds behind them, and they knew that
the Mohawks were rushing from the camp. Above the tumult sounded the
fierce cry of Nianque, the lynx, the danger signal of the Mohawks. It
seemed to come from the top of the stockade, and the Delawares believed
that the Mohawks were sending a warning to the warriors who had left the
camp earlier in the day.