THE SPIRIT OF KLOTA
When Owindia left her father's lodge and entered the forest a great
dread came upon her. Once she stayed her steps as if uncertain what to
do. The wild beating of her own heart was the only sound she heard. She
was tempted to turn back and give up the undertaking. But the thought
of the promise she had made and what the Chilcats might do if she did
not appear nerved her heart and gave her courage to go forward. Down
among the trees she moved, then across an open valley, where stretched
a long meadow of wild grass. On the farther side was the large rock,
which she had mentioned as the place of meeting. Her steps lagged as
she approached the spot, and a sigh of relief escaped her lips when she
found that no one was there. Taking up her position by the rock, she
leaned against it, and looked down the valley. The soughing of the wind
was the only sound which fell upon her ears. How lonely it was, and the
darkness was fast deepening. Her eyes wandered away among the dim arches
of the forest and she fancied she could see dozens of Chilcats hiding
among the trees and peering forth upon her. The suspense now became
terrible. She could have endured almost anything except this time of
waiting.
Just when her patience was about exhausted two shadowy forms glided from
somewhere she could not tell, and stood before her. So suddenly did they
appear that she started, and with difficulty suppressed a cry of fright.
"Come," was the brief command. "The Chilcat braves will take the Ayana
maiden to the chief's son."
There was nothing for Owindia to do but to follow. Her guides led her
along the edge of the wild meadow, keeping close within the shadow of
the forest. She wondered somewhat as to the wariness of their movements,
but asked no questions. The braves walked fast, and the maiden found it
hard at times to keep up with them.
The lower part of the meadow terminated at the foot of a steep hill,
covered with jack-pines, firs, and dead trees. Up the side they moved,
the way becoming more difficult, owing to the underbrush, fallen logs,
and the fast-gathering darkness. Having reached the summit they paused
a moment to rest. Then descending the opposite side, they ere long came
to a ridge of jagged rocks. From the midst of the latter a light pierced
the gloom. It was a camp fire, around which several forms were gathered.
It did not take them long to reach the spot, and Owindia was glad enough
to warm her numb hands before the pleasant blaze. Next she looked around
for the chief's son, expecting to recognise his person by the respect
which would be paid to him by the others. She saw, however, only a
dozen braves, who all seemed of equal importance. The men noticed her
questioning look, and interpreting its meaning hastened to explain. The
chief's son was beyond the hills with most of the Indians, so they told
her, and would arrive at almost any time. They were to keep her until he
returned.
Owindia said nothing, but she intuitively felt that they were not
telling her the truth. Why were there so few of them hiding on this
hillside among the rocks? It was a most unlikely spot for a large band
of Indians to encamp. Then she noticed that the two braves who had
guided her to the place did not remain long, but took their departure
after a few moments' conversation with the rest. She racked her brain
in an effort to solve the problem. Little attention was paid to her by
the Indians sitting around the fire. Even when she rose to her feet and
moved about they appeared not to notice her. She had come of her own
free will, and had evidently believed the story they told her about the
chief's son. It was therefore unnecessary to keep a strict watch upon
her.
Owindia thought much of Natsatt, and wondered if he would ever know what
she had done for his sake, and for her own people. What would he think
and do when he could not find her at the lodge? He would go there, she
was sure of that, and how surprised he would be when she was nowhere to
be found. Perhaps he was there now, calling her by name. She listened
intently as if expecting to hear his voice. Her heart throbbed with a
longing which no resolve could quench. It was sweet even in her misery
to feel that his love for her was strong and deep. No matter what her
life might be in the future the memory of that time since she had first
met her lover would ever remain like a light shining in the darkness.
Thinking thus she glanced toward the braves seated about the camp fire.
The chief's son had not yet arrived. What was keeping him? she wondered.
Was he not expecting her? Did not the messenger tell him that she was
coming; that Owindia, daughter of the Ayana chief, was willing to give
herself up to save those she loved? How soon would it be after she met
him ere he would lead her and his band back over the mountains to the
coast? Would all the warriors be willing to go? she mused. They had come
a long way, and to return without driving back the white traders, and
punishing the Interior Indians, simply for the sake of an Ayana squaw
would be galling to their haughty natures. Some, at least, would rebel
she felt certain.
A sudden thought flashed into her mind, causing her to cease her
restless pacing, and to remain perfectly rigid, while her eyes stared
out wildly into the blackness beyond. It was like the voice of some one
standing near. "There is trouble," it seemed to say. "Those Chilcats
around the fire are opposed to the action of the chief's son. They have
spirited Owindia away, intending to keep her hidden for a time. They
have heard what the messenger said. The chief's son is encamped near the
Post, and if Owindia does not go to him to-night he will believe that
she has changed her mind. He will, accordingly, fall at once upon the
white traders, and attack the Ayana people."
Owindia's course now became clear. She must get away as quickly as
possible, and hurry to the chief's son. Suppose she should be too late!
She had not the slightest doubt about this new idea which had come to
her mind. She only wondered that she had not thought about it sooner.
She looked toward the fire. The men were sitting as before, talking
and paying no heed to the maiden in their midst. They knew nothing of
the agitation which was stirring her breast, but imagined that she was
waiting impatiently for the arrival of the chief's son.
Owindia continued to move to and fro, but kept steadily edging away from
the fire. Farther and farther each time she advanced, until at last with
one furtive glance behind her she plunged into the thicket, and hastened
up the hill among the tossed and tangled rocks. Her heart beat fast, and
occasionally she paused to listen. Hearing nothing she continued on her
way. Reaching the top of the hill she dropped behind a thick bush to
rest. The Chilcats evidently had not missed her, so she hurried forward
down the opposite side of the hill straight toward the meadow which she
had so recently left. She did not mind the darkness, and never once did
she stumble as she worked her way through the forest without any trail
to guide her. Her feet were light even though her heart was heavy. Her
one desire now urged her onward. She must reach the chief's son before
he began the attack. By going back to the large rock she would be able
to direct her course. At length the place was reached and once again she
stopped to listen. No sound could she hear excepting the wind in the
tree tops. There was no sign of any battle taking place at the Post, and
nothing to tell her that the Chilcats were advancing.
Leaving the rock she started forward in the direction she believed the
Coast Indians had their camp. It was only a supposition on her part.
Nevertheless she must search until she should find them. She was not so
certain of her course now, and walked more cautiously. The trees became
larger the farther she went and there was less underbrush to impede her
progress. Had it been daytime she could have seen some distance ahead.
Often she stopped and listened, hoping to hear something to direct her
steps. At length she came to a sudden standstill for there right before
her the light of a fire fell upon her eyes. Slowly she advanced, and ere
long she was able to see many forms gathered around the place. It was
a big blaze, and fiery cinders were whirling up into the night, making
strange fantastic figures in their flight. The Chilcats had not made
the attack. There was some comfort in the thought. But with one fear
removed the old one returned. How was she to face that band of Indians?
How would they treat her? What would they do to her? How helpless she
felt, there in the wilderness, with her enemies so near. How she longed
for the strong presence of her father. And her mother, did she know of
what her only child was doing? Was her spirit near her this night? she
wondered. She believed somewhat that the spirits of the departed were
on earth. She had heard it so often on the lips of old Indians that it
would have been remarkable if she had not been impressed with the belief.
"Mother, mother," she breathed. "Be with Owindia to-night. Let your
spirit strengthen your child in her trouble."
Silently and slowly she approached the Chilcats. She did not hurry as
she wished to observe them for a while before they saw her. There was
no watch kept so no one opposed her progress or gave warning of her
presence. Several large trees were right in front, a few rods from the
squatting natives. Behind one of these she glided, and thus obtained a
good view of all that was taking place. She beheld one, whom she decided
was the chief's son, surrounded by his warriors. His appearance did
not appeal to her, and a shiver shook her form as she thought how soon
she would be his wife, and therefore his abject slave. The longer she
watched the less courage she had. How could she step forth and face
those men? What were they talking about in such an animated manner? she
wondered, and why were they delaying the attack upon the Post? She could
not understand what they were saying, but once she thought she heard
the name of Klitonda mentioned. They were evidently talking about her
father, and what were they saying? How she longed to leave and flee away
from the place back to the Post. She turned her head and looked into
the dark forest. How like a friend it seemed to her. It would shelter
her from those human wolves, for it had always been her friend, and she
loved it. She turned her head slowly and regretfully to look again upon
the Chilcats, when an object on her left arrested her attention. It
was the form of a man with his back against a large tree, and from his
unnatural position she was certain that he was fast bound. The light
was dim and uncertain so she was unable to distinguish his face. But
something about the figure seemed familiar, especially his large size.
Whoever he was he must be a prisoner, she thought, captured by the
Chilcats. No doubt they were now discussing his fate as they squatted
before the fire. A feeling of pity stole into her heart for this
unfortunate captive. Perhaps he was one of the Ayana Indians. Suppose he
were her own father! The idea came with a startling intensity. He might
have been captured by the enemy and brought into camp. With Owindia to
think was to act, so slipping from her concealed position she hurried
across the open, fearful lest the Chilcats should observe her. She did
not go straight to the tree, but with native instinct made a somewhat
circular movement back into the forest and thus reached the tree behind
the bound man. The latter could not see her, and if he heard her light
step he paid no heed. Carefully Owindia peered around the large bole,
and one quick glance was sufficient to tell her that the captive was in
very truth her father.
Instinctively her hand slipped to the knife safely concealed within her
jacket. She would cut the thongs which bound him fast, and set him free.
She was about to stretch out her arm, when she hesitated and lowered the
knife. Her father must not know that she was there. He must think it was
some one else. Nothing would induce him to leave the place knowing that
his own child would be left in the midst of the hated Coast wolves. A
thought flashed into her mind, so placing her face close to the tree she
whispered so her father was sure to hear:
"The spirit of Klota is near Klitonda. She will cut the thongs and save
him from the Chilcats. Do not delay an instant but hurry back into the
forest."
This done, with three swift deft strokes she severed the bonds which
held him, and the captive was free.
When Klitonda heard the voice, and felt the thongs give way, he had no
doubt but that it was Klota's spirit which had come to him in his time
of need. Without a moment's hesitation he obeyed the command, and with
the agility of a wild-cat leaped to one side and was instantly lost to
view amidst the darkness of the forest depths.
No sooner had her father disappeared than Owindia took his place and
stood with her back against the tree. All had happened so quickly that
if the Chilcats had glanced in that direction they could have hardly
detected the brief space of time when no one was standing there. When
they did look they beheld what they believed to be the form of the Ayana
chief securely bound as they had left him. That he should escape did not
even enter their minds. They, therefore, paid little attention to him so
engrossed were they with their conversation concerning what they should
do with their important captive.
Owindia now determined to wait until the Chilcats should find her, and
every moment would give her father time to place a long distance between
him and his enemies. The coolness of the night pierced her body, and
caused her to shiver and wish for the warmth of the fire. How long would
the Indians remain talking? she wondered, and what would they say and do
to her when they discovered what she had done? The time dragged slowly
by, and her body became very weary. She had endured so much mental
strain during the day and evening that she longed to lie down and rest
forever. At length, however, a movement took place among the Chilcats.
She saw them rise to their feet and advance to where she was standing.
It did not take them many seconds to ascertain that something was
wrong. They then rushed toward her, caught her by the arms and hurried
her over to the fire. A wild babel of voices at once ensued as the truth
dawned upon the warriors' minds. They knew they had been outwitted, and
by a squaw at that! How could they ever endure such humiliation? They
would be the laughing-stock of all the tribes along the coast for years
to come. They found the cut thongs lying by the tree, and they needed no
words from the maiden to explain who had done the deed.
Owindia stood close to the fire, to every appearance the calmest of them
all. With hands clasped before her, and bent head she seemed the very
embodiment of an abject slave, willing to obey the slightest command of
the most menial of the whole Chilcat tribe. But such an attitude was
most deceptive, and not one of the warriors realised the magnificent
courage of her heart or the subtle keenness of her active brain. She
saw and understood more than they imagined. When at last the confusion
had subsided she was rudely pushed before the chief's son, who was
standing somewhat apart from the others. He had been watching her most
intently, and was mentally comparing her with women of his own tribe. He
had heard that she was beautiful, but never until he now set his eyes
upon her did he fully comprehend that the half had never been told him.
Her flushed face, and the strange light which shone in her eyes added
to her loveliness. With savage impetuosity he longed to possess this
wonderful creature. What were the spoils of war, the punishing of the
white traders when passion was in the balance? He had never been taught
the virtue of self-restraint. Even from a child his every wish had been
gratified by indulgent relatives. When he grew to manhood none thought
of crossing the will of one who in course of time would be chief of the
tribe. In war and conquest he delighted, especially with a defeated
people who had not the spirit to oppose his exorbitant demands. He was
all for self, and friend or foe he would lightly sacrifice in order
to accomplish any desire upon which he had set his heart. Arrogant,
voluptuous, and conceited through smooth-tongued flattery he knew little
or nothing of opposition. That this maiden, even though a chief's
daughter, should refuse his slightest behest never once entered his dull
mind. Women of his own tribe had ever sought his favour, and his smile
or word of approval had been to them like the nectar of the gods. What,
therefore, should he expect from a squaw of a conquered people?
"Bamba is pleased to see the daughter of the Ayana chief," he began.
"But what has she done? She has set Klitonda free, and does she not fear
the anger of the Chilcats?"
"Owindia is not afraid," was the quiet reply. "She is willing to die, if
necessary, for the sake of her father, and her own people."
"And has the chief's daughter come to Bamba's camp to be his wife?" the
chief's son asked.
"Ah, ah; if he will lead his warriors back beyond the mountains to
the coast, and interfere no more with the white traders and the Ayana
Indians. If he will do that Owindia will be his wife."
Bamba hesitated before replying, and a deep silence reigned among the
Chilcats. Much depended upon his answer. The rebel Indians had returned
and were now standing among their companions. When they had missed their
captive they had hurried back to the main camp just as Owindia was
discovered standing by the tree in her father's place. They were not
alone in their desire to attack the whites, but were the only ones who
had courage enough to attempt to thwart their leader's design.
"Is it the wish of the Chilcat warriors," Bamba asked, turning to his
men, "to return to the coast if the daughter of the Ayana chief will go
with them?"
"No, no," came the emphatic response, followed by a confusion of
numerous voices. "The Chilcat warriors will not return. Why should the
chief's son ask them to do such a thing? They will be laughed at when
they go back, and the whole tribe will say that an Ayana squaw turned
their heads."
Bamba was astonished at such words, and a hot anger filled his heart.
What did his men mean by such action? Never before had they opposed his
will, and why should they do it now? He turned angrily upon them.
"Your leader, the chief's son, orders you to go back," he cried. "Refuse
if you dare."
"The warriors do refuse," came the answer from several lips. "Let Bamba
beware or else his warriors will leave him. They are not papooses. They
will fight without him. Let him take the Ayana squaw, and go back to the
coast, the rest will stay and fight the white traders."
Bamba was in a rage, and poured forth a torrent of words at his men. But
they had no effect upon the determined Chilcats, who merely listened to
him with sullen faces. Seeing that he was making no impression but only
embittering his warriors against him, Bamba turned toward Owindia who
all the time had been standing quietly before him.
"Bamba will answer the Ayana squaw's question in the morning," he said.
"He cannot tell her now. But she must stay, for Bamba wants her. She has
won his heart. Never has he seen such a beautiful maiden. He will make
her his wife at once."
"Owindia will not wait," was the decided reply. "She wants her answer
now, and if the chiefs son will not give it to her she will go away at
once. Bamba is but a child. He cannot rule his warriors."
With this Owindia turned and started to leave the place. But Bamba
rushed forward, and caught her by the arm.
"Stay," he demanded. "The Ayana maiden will never leave until she
becomes the chief's son's wife. She shall stay."
Owindia with a quick movement threw off his hand and stepped back a
pace or two. The fire of determination shone in her eyes which bespoke
danger. Her right hand slipped within the bosom of her dress, and
brought forth the sharp pointed knife.
"Keep back," she cried. "Lay another hand upon me and you will feel
this. Bamba has deceived Owindia. He promised by his messenger to leave
the country and go back beyond the mountains if Klitonda's daughter
would become his wife. He cannot do it, for his warriors will not let
him. Owindia has done her part, and Bamba must not stop her. If the
Chilcats force her to stay she will bury this knife into her own breast
before she becomes the wife of Bamba the coward."
Bamba was now furious with rage. He would have seized the maiden, and
made her his own by main force. But he feared that deadly knife, and
the flashing eyes of the one who held it. At this critical moment the
warriors came to his assistance.
"Let not the Ayana squaw fear," the spokesman said. "She must stay here
to-night, and then to-morrow she can go back to her own people. Let her
not try to escape, for it will be impossible. She will be safe here. No
one will harm her, for the Chilcat warriors will protect her with their
lives. Klitonda's daughter has a brave heart."
Slowly Owindia's tense arm dropped by her side. Then she replaced the
knife within her bosom, and a sigh escaped her lips.
"It is well," she replied. "Owindia will stay to-night. She will trust
the Chilcat warriors, but not their leader, the chief's son."