TOKENS
Silence prevailed for a few minutes in the Indian encampment after
Klitonda and Owindia had left. All sat or stood with bent heads, each
waiting for some one else to speak first. Nagu alone cast his eyes
furtively around. He was pleased at the defeat of the chief, but
somewhat disturbed by the stillness which reigned. He partly divined
the cause, and believed that the Indians were ashamed of their own
cowardice, and the way they had treated Klitonda. He knew how his own
influence even now hung in the balance, and it needed only a few to make
a decided stand, and all would join them.
And while this unnatural quietness brooded over the place a score of
hunters glided into their midst. Their arrival at this moment was most
opportune. The tension was relieved, and all began to talk at once. The
subject was Klitonda, and the message he had delivered. Nothing was
said about the medicine man or the part that he had played in defeating
the object of their chief's visit. But the returned hunters at length
learned the whole story when Nagu had betaken himself to his own lodge.
They were a score of strapping braves, and had travelled far that day.
But all sense of weariness disappeared as they drew aside and earnestly
consulted with one another. Out in the wild during the long nights
around their camp fires they had discussed many things concerning their
own land, and the dominant sway of the Chilcats. For their chief they
had the most profound respect. They believed that with a band of men
to support him the invaders could be driven back. This idea had been
gripping them hard for some time, and had drawn them together more than
formerly. Kindred spirits they were who had now emerged from the forest
at this critical moment.
The medicine man was not satisfied with their presence. He watched them
from his lodge, and endeavoured to hear what they were saying, but
all in vain, for the young men spoke low, and kept their counsel to
themselves. Had Nagu drawn near just then it would not have been well
with him, for these braves were in no mood for interference from this
creature whom they were beginning to despise.
Next morning, bright and early, they glided away from camp, and followed
the tracks made by Klitonda and his daughter in the pure white snow.
Their eyes were keenly alert, and they moved forward with scarcely a
sound. They were evidently watching for something besides the chief and
Owindia. It was almost dark, when, about to emerge from the forest to
cross a small lake, they paused abruptly, and crouched back among the
trees. Out in the open their eyes had caught sight of a lone lank timber
wolf. He had stopped and was sniffing the tracks he had found upon the
snow. Presently he lifted his head and threw his nose into the air. The
hated man smell had drifted to his sensitive nostrils, and that spelled
danger. But ere he had time to beat a retreat a half dozen bow strings
twanged among the trees, and as many pointed arrows hurtled through the
air, and sank deep into the brute's lean side. With a wild yell of agony
the wolf gave a tremendous bound into the air and then rolled over in
the snow, its body quivering in the throes of death.
It did not take the hunters long to rush from the forest, and examine
their victim. Soon a sharp knife was produced, and with much deftness
the heart was removed from the animal's body. It was apparent that the
wolf was needed neither for its skin, nor for food. There was another
motive for its death. With the heart warm and bleeding thus procured,
the braves formed themselves in a circle about the grewsome object. Then
each hunter drew forth an arrow, and inserted its point deep into the
soft flesh. No word was spoken during this performance, which had the
appearance of a religious ceremony, bloody though it was. Then facing
the forest to their left they held aloft their dripping arrows, and as
one their voices rang out:
"As the heart blood of this wolf dyes the points of these arrows, so
twenty Ayana hunters will never cease until these same points are
stained with the heart blood of their enemies. Let these blood-marked
arrows be tokens of their resolve, and let the Great Spirit bear
witness."
This done they sped on their way, leaving behind them the body of the
wolf, its blood flowing forth, and turning the white snow to a crimson
hue. By this time darkness had settled over the land, but the hunters
heeded it not. With never a single hesitation they followed the tracks
which stretched out far ahead. Ere long the moon rose full and bright
above the tops of the pointed trees. It rode high in the heavens, and
dimly illuminated the long cathedral-like aisles of the silent forest.
The trees threw out straight trailing shadows like sharp pointed
lances. It was a scene of surpassing beauty; light and shade, peace and
grandeur; the full triumphant moon above, the gem-besprinkled carpet of
snow below. And through this magic palace sped the feet of the Ayana
braves. Their hearts were not stirred by the splendour which surrounded
them. To them this fairy world held no fascination. Their hearts were
not enthralled by Nature's alluring witchery.
It was midnight when at length their steps grew slower, and they moved
more cautiously. Through the keen night air drifted the scent of
smouldering wood. Presently a rough "lean-to" was faintly discerned
several rods ahead. They peered keenly forward, but no one was visible,
and not a sound disturbed the intense silence. The hunters did not
approach any nearer now, but remained crouched upon the snow in a
watchful attitude. It was a keen night, but the young men did not seem
to mind it.
For about two hours they kept watch over the little camp. Then they
noticed Klitonda rise to his feet and rekindle the fire from a few hot
coals. At once the young men stepped quickly forward and stood before
the chief. Turning, the latter saw them, and leaped for his bow and
arrows. Then standing defiantly before the place where Owindia was
lying, he faced the young men. He believed that they had come to attack
him and to take him back as captive. He was, therefore, much surprised
when one of the braves advanced and lifted his hand as a sign of peace.
Still Klitonda was not satisfied, and remained ready for any emergency.
Perhaps this was only a ruse on the part of these braves. Why had they
followed him so far into the forest unless they had some sinister motive
in view? And thus standing there in the light of the moon he appeared
a most formidable antagonist. A man of powerful build, and of great
stature, he seemed now a veritable giant. His aspect at this moment was
enough to cause even the stoutest heart to shrink. The advancing brave
hesitated, and then spoke.
"Great Chief," he began, "the Ayana braves are no enemies to Klitonda.
They bring peace. They come to serve their chief, not to harm him. They
followed hard upon his tracks until they found him. They bring tokens
of their allegiance. Will the Great Chief receive them?"
He paused, and Klitonda lowered his bow.
"Why do the Ayana braves come here?" he replied. "Do they wish to mock
their chief? But, stay, Klitonda is their chief no longer; they have
rejected him. He is an outcast. His own people would give him over to
the Chilcats. His plans have failed, they are like this," and Klitonda
seized a handful of snow, and let it fall slowly downward.
"The Great Chiefs words are only partly true," the young brave quietly
returned. "There are twenty braves standing here, whose hearts are
true to their chief. They would follow him to death on behalf of their
country. They bring these tokens of their faith--tokens stained with
blood. As they are red from a wolf's bleeding heart, so may they be more
deeply stained by the heart blood of the Chilcat wolves."
Saying which the brave stepped forward, and handed Klitonda the
blood-marked arrow. One by one his companions did the same. Not a word
was spoken during this performance. Klitonda received them all, and held
the arrows in his right hand. He looked at the tokens, and then at the
young men standing before him.
"What will Klitonda do with these?" he asked, holding forth the score of
arrows.
"Keep them," was the reply, "and when the Great Chief wants the twenty
Ayana braves, let him send the tokens, and they will come swift as the
wind."
To these words Klitonda said nothing. He stood looking beyond the braves
far off into the forest. The unexpected appearance of these young men
was affecting him deeply. The great weight which had been pressing upon
his heart was somewhat removed. All of his own people had not rejected
him. There were twenty braves who were ready to stand by his side. There
was comfort in the thought. He wished to speak, to tell all that was in
his heart. But words refused to come. He was like a dumb man. The braves
saw the struggle which was taking place in their chief's mind, and his
silence impressed them more than a long oration.
Presently Klitonda turned as if to place several sticks upon the fire.
As he did so he saw Owindia standing quietly near. Upon her face was an
expression of joy. She had been a silent witness of all that had taken
place. The braves had seen her when first she appeared, but they gave no
sign that they were aware of her presence. But twenty hearts thrilled as
they saw her standing near her father. Klitonda held out the arrows to
Owindia.
"Take them, little one," he said. "They will be safe in your keeping.
Is it the will of the Ayana braves," he continued, turning to the young
man, "that their chief's daughter should guard these tokens which they
have brought?"
"Ah, ah," burst at once from a score of lips. "Let the chief's daughter
keep the blood-marked tokens."
Thus in the depth of that great forest twenty resolute braves gave their
allegiance to Klitonda their chief. Indians they were, in the rough,
untouched by any of the refining influences of civilisation. And yet
they were real sons of Mother Nature. Their word was their bond, and
having once made their vow of allegiance nothing could induce them to
break it.