"Brothers!" again spoke the chief: "it is for this I would stay your
judgment. My son is not in the camp; he went back upon the trail, and
has not returned. I know not his purpose. My heart is in doubt--but
not in fear Wakono is a strong warrior, and can take care of himself.
He will not be long absent; he must soon return. For this I ask you to
delay the judgment."
A murmur of disapprobation followed this avowal. The allies of the
renegade evidently mustered stronger than the friends of the young
chief.
Hissoo-royo once more addressed the council.
"What trifling would this be, warriors of the Hietan? Two suns have
gone down, and this question is not decided! I ask only justice. By
our laws, the judgment cannot stand over. The captives must belong to
some one. I claim them as mine, and I offer witnesses to prove my
right. Wakono has no claim, else why is he not here to avow it? He has
no proofs beyond his own word; he is ashamed to stand before you without
proof--that is why he is now absent from the camp!"
"Wakono is not absent," cried a voice from among the bystanders; "he is
in the camp!"
This announcement produced a sensation, and I could perceive that the
old chief partook equally with the others of the surprise created.
"Who says Wakono is in the camp?" inquired he in a loud voice.
An Indian stepped forth from the crowd of spectators. I recognised the
man, whom I had met crossing from the horse-guard.
"Wakono is in the camp," repeated he, as he paused outside the circle.
"I saw the young chief; I spoke with him."
"When?"
"Only now."
"Where?"
The man pointed to the scene of our accidental rencontre.
"He was going yonder," said he; "he went among the trees--I saw him not
after."
This intelligence evidently increased the astonishment. It could not be
comprehended why Wakono should be upon the ground, and yet not come
forward to assert his claim. Had he abandoned it altogether?
The father of the claimant appeared as much puzzled as any one; he made
no attempt to explain the absence of his son: he could not; he stood
silent, and evidently in a state of mystification.
Several now suggested that a search be made for the absent warrior. It
was proposed to send messengers throughout the camp--_to search the
grove_.
My blood ran cold as I listened to the proposal; my knees trembled
beneath me. I knew that if the grove was to be searched, I should have
no chance of remaining longer concealed. The dress of Wakono was
conspicuous; I saw that there was none other like it: no other wore a
robe of jaguar-skins, and this would betray me. Even the paint would
not avail: I should be led into the firelight; the counterfeit would be
detected. I should be butchered upon the spot--perhaps tortured for the
treatment we had given the true Wakono, which would soon become known.
My apprehensions had reached the climax of acuteness, when they were
suddenly relieved by some words from the Spanish wolf.
"Why search for Wakono?" cried he; "Wakono knows his own name; it has
been called and loud enough. Wakono has ears--surely he can hear for
himself, if he be in the camp. Call him again, if you will!"
This proposition appeared reasonable. It was adopted, and the crier
once more summoned the young chief by name.
The voice, as all perceived, could have been heard to the farthest
bounds of the camp, and far beyond.
An interval was allowed, during which there reigned perfect silence,
every one bending his ears to listen.
There came no answer--no Wakono appeared to the summons.
"Now!" triumphantly exclaimed the renegade, "is it not as I have said?
Warriors! I demand your judgment."
There was no immediate reply. A long pause followed, during which no
one spoke, either in the circle or among the spectators.
At length the oldest of the council rose, re-lit the calumet, and, after
taken a whiff from the tube, handed it to the Indian seated on his left.
This one, in like manner, passed it to the next, and he to the next,
until the pipe had made the circuit of the fire, and was returned to the
old warrior who had first smoked from it.
The latter now laid aside the pipe, and in a formal manner, but in a
voice inaudible to the spectators, proposed the question.
The vote was taken in rotation, and was also delivered _sotto voce_.
The judgment only was pronounced aloud.
The decision was singular, and somewhat unexpected. The jury had been
moved by a strong leaning towards equity, and an amicable adjustment
that might prove acceptable to all parties.
The _horse_ was adjudged to Wakono--the _maiden_ was declared the
property of the Spanish wolf!