THE DIPLOMACY OF BRIGHT ROBE
Bright Robe was well aware that, until his power should be as great
as his rival’s, or the quest of the red feathers should be forgotten,
he must practise every precaution to avoid attracting that magician’s
attention afresh, must move artfully, and play a part in life for
which, by nature, he was but ill-suited. His old, arrogant tactics
must be forsworn, or at least amended, for with Wise-as-a-she-wolf on
his trail he must needs have a following of loyal men who would give
no information concerning him. He knew that his enemy would seek him
everywhere; so he sat down in the woods, at the edge of the village of
mountaineers, and devoted several hours to thought. He decided that
the mountaineers, a strong, clannish nation, should be honoured by his
patronage and used like tools, to his purpose. He had never had much
to do with these people, and if they knew anything of his true nature,
it was only by hearsay. He would use all his magic to the advancement
of their prosperity, even as his enemy did for the islanders. And
he dreamed that the time was not far off (as time is calculated by
magicians) when he should use these mountaineers as a weapon against
his enemy.
He did not appear immediately to the people whom he had chosen to
shape to the fulfilment of his plans, but waited until nightfall, and
then flew northward, hundreds of miles beyond the knowledge of the
mountaineers, and descended upon a village of the fat folk who eat raw
flesh. He increased his stature to seven times that of the human body,
and thus struck terror into the hearts of the blubber-eaters. They
offered him their wealth of ivory and furs if he would but leave them
in peace.
“My name is Bright Robe,” said he, in reply to their abject cries. “I
do not want your ivory or walrus tusks, nor yet all your furs. But
bring me your best robes, for I am going to my great lodge of ice,
seven suns’ journey to the northward, where the cold is so sharp that
no animal can live save the great white wolves.”
From their stores he selected a score of robes of the finest black
fox-skins, and a few great pelts of musk-ox, and white bear. Then,
having the furs which he had chosen placed in a heap, he reduced
them to within a portable compass with his magic, lifted them to the
hollow of his arm, and sprang into the air. He flew due north; and
the blubber-eaters stared after him, in silence and sorrow, until he
vanished from their sight.
Beyond the range of vision of the blubber-eaters, Bright Robe altered
his course. This talk of his lodge of ice, and this northward flight,
were but moves in his new game. By sunrise of the next morning he was
in the largest village of the mountaineers, standing before the tent
of the head-chief. This chief was no other than Black Eagle, from whom
Wise-as-a-she-wolf had once asked for information concerning the flight
of Spotted Seal, the warrior who had stolen the red feathers from the
lodge of Run-all-day. The dogs advanced upon Bright Robe even as they
had upon his rival, on a former occasion; but they soon fell back, and
slunk away, before the glance of his eyes. He threw the little bundle,
which he had brought from the north, to the ground in front of Black
Eagle’s lodge. He passed his hand above it, and muttered a few swift
words, and there lay the twenty robes of fox skin and the other pelts.
Then he called upon the chief, by name.
Black Eagle looked cautiously from his lodge, and stared in wonder at
the stranger and the great pile of furs.
“I am Bright Robe,” said the magician, “and behold I have brought you a
gift of great price, to show my friendship for you and your people.”
At that, Black Eagle eyed him suspiciously.
“Why do you make me such a gift?” he asked. “I have done you no
service. What is it you want of me? For I know that it is not for
nothing that you lay all these skins of the black fox in front of my
door.”
“I shall be honest with you, chief,” replied Bright Robe. “I could not
deceive so shrewd a man as you, even if it were in my heart to do so. I
bring you this gift of furs, all stitched into broad robes, and shall
make you other gifts, hoping that you will do me a favour. Let me enter
your lodge and talk with you, and you will be glad of my coming.”
“That may be as it proves,” replied Black Eagle, drily. “The proof of
the good hunt is in the cooking-pot. The best magician who honoured me
with a visit, nearly broke the head of one of my strongest warriors.
And he--he was known, far and wide, as a gentle magician.”
“And what was his name?” inquired Bright Robe.
“Wise-as-a-she-wolf,” replied the chief. He noted the look of surprise
on the other’s face, and added the information that the warrior had
angered the magician by hurling a spear at him. But by then Bright Robe
was shaking his head mournfully.
“He is bloodthirsty at heart,” he said. “I have known it for a long
time. But let me into your lodge, chief, for I have a long story to
tell you.”
Black Eagle hesitated, and eyed his visitor uneasily, for he did not
relish the thought of a private interview with him.
“My chiefs will be offended if they are not called to hear your talk.
They are like children, in such matters,” he said.
“You do not trust me,” said Bright Robe, sadly. “But I trust you,” he
added, “so you may call your leading warriors to hear what I have to
say.”
Black Eagle lost no time in summoning the more important men of the
village to his lodge. They gathered swiftly, armed with spears and
clubs and looking even more savage than their dogs.
Bright Robe, pretending to be quite unnerved by the sight of their
weapons, pointed to the heap of furs, and then, very modestly, told
the story of his fear of Wise-as-a-she-wolf, and of his wish to take
shelter with the strong warriors of the mountains. He explained
that he did not ask them to defend him with their weapons, or run
any risk on his behalf, but only to hide all knowledge of him from
Wise-as-a-she-wolf, or any stranger; and in return for this service
he promised to supply their chief village with all the food and fur
required by its people.
The mountaineers considered the matter with wise and lengthy
deliberation. They examined the furs which lay before the lodge, and
questioned the magician as to where he had obtained them. He told them
how he had robbed the blubber-eaters, miles and miles to the northward,
only a few hours before.
“I tell you the truth because I trust you, because you are my friends,”
he said. “But the day will surely come, and perhaps it will be very
soon, when Wise-as-a-she-wolf will see these skins and ask you the
same question which you have asked me. Then you must say that they are
of your own killing.”
“But he would not believe us,” said Black Eagle, “for the great white
bear and the musk-ox are not of this country. In the old days we
sometimes obtained such skins, in small numbers, from the fat people.
But now we have no dealings with them. And Wise-as-a-she-wolf knows all
these things as I know the taste of deer-meat.”
“Say you so,” cried Bright Robe. “Then behold, they are all the skins
of little foxes.” And so they were, in the flash of an eye.
“We hear you, and we see,” said an old warrior. “The ears of
questioners shall be filled with lies, according to your wish. But why
do you fear this other magician, you who are such a great magic-maker,
and can travel so fast and so far? Could you not change him into a fox
skin, as you have just done to these pelts of bear and musk-ox?”
“He is stronger than I, and his speed is even greater than mine. Also,
he can make himself invisible as the wind,” replied Bright Robe,
truthfully.
“We know that. He did it before our eyes,” said Black Eagle. And all
the others nodded their heads in agreement. At last it was decided
that Bright Robe should be given a home in the tribe, and such
protection as lies and pretended ignorance could furnish, in return for
a generous supply of food and furs. They led him up the mountain-side,
and showed him a cave, the mouth of which was hidden by climbing
bushes. The magician examined it, and thankfully accepted it as his
home, until such time as he should be in a position to choose a better.
The chief was about to order a man to bring robes and food to the cave,
but the magician laughed and shook his head.
“I mean to fly abroad to-night, to gather six days’ food for the
village, so I shall furnish this place at the same time,” he explained.
“Now I must rest,” he added, anxious to get the warriors away from the
mouth of the cave; for a chilling fear that his great enemy might be
somewhere near, alert to note anything unusual, was on his heart. So
Black Eagle returned to the village with his followers, and Bright Robe
crawled deep into his cave and began a minute examination of it. He was
not entirely satisfied with the result of the investigation, for the
cave was nothing but a tunnel, nowhere of more than half the height
of a man, and of a width scarcely more generous. It sloped gently
downward, and ended in a natural wall of the mountain’s rib.
“A very fine trap,” remarked the magician, “and I am playing
too unproved a part to risk living in a trap. There might be
disagreements,” he continued. “Then a good fire at the mouth of the
cave would make it very uncomfortable, even for me--if I happened to be
at home.”
He found bones scattered about, and decided that many wolves had denned
there in the past. He lay down on his back, placed his feet against
the end of the tunnel, and anchored himself to the rocky sides, by
the grip of his hands. Then, with a word, his strength was increased
twenty-fold, though his stature remained normal. He thrust tentatively
with his feet. He pushed harder; and harder yet; and at the third
effort he felt the rock shift a little. At that, he rested from his
work long enough to test the roof and walls, to make sure that they,
also, were not giving way. Lying flat again, he applied his feet to
what he now knew to be an unattached mass of rock, and pushed slowly
but steadily, and a shower of earth and small stones rattled down upon
his feet and legs. He drew himself forward, took a fresh grip with
his hands on the sides of the tunnel, and unbent all his strength in
a last, sudden thrust. Outward flew the mass of earth-bound rock,
bigger than the lodge of Black Eagle, and rolled downward for a short
distance, leaving behind it a jagged hole through which entered a glow
of shaded daylight.
Bright Robe cleared the earth from his person and looked cautiously
out from the hole which he had just kicked in the mountain. Already
his magic strength had faded out of his muscles and bones, for he had
not the power to command it for long at a time. He saw before him a
deep, narrow valley of the mountains, and steep, wooded slopes rising
on all sides. A few yards below him lay the great mass of rock which he
had dislodged from its resting-place of centuries. No living thing was
in sight, except a hawk perched in a tree-top half-way up the western
slope of the valley. Black Eagle’s village lay to the eastward, on the
other side of the ridge through which Bright Robe had crawled, by way
of the cave. The magician viewed the result of his labour with grim
satisfaction.
“I like a lodge with two doorways,” he said. “But it is as well that
my friends should have a knowledge of one only.”
He saw that the rock which he had rolled into the valley might attract
attention of any chance wanderer on the mountain sides, or, worse
still, of any one flying in the air. Fresh earth still clung to it,
in patches, and it had cut a deep gash in the moss and soil of the
valley. It was altogether too evident for his liking. So he crawled
from the back-door of the cave, worked such magic on the great boulder
as to reduce it to the dimensions of a pebble, and hurled it over the
western wall. Then he repaired the damages suffered by the moss and
young trees, bent a few spruces from their places so that they hid the
unnatural hole in the mountain, and retired.
Bright Robe spent the early part of the night in spying upon his
allies. He lay hidden in a clump of bushes close to their evening fire,
and listened to their talk; but, though he heard many things that
made his ears tingle, they were planning no treachery against him.
At last he crawled away, and flew westward and northward, beyond the
giant’s country, and robbed a camp of fishermen of all the fruits of
their toil. He found some pemmican and a few furs, which he kept for
himself. When the mountaineers awoke next morning and discovered the
great store of fish, they were well pleased with the bargain they had
made.