CHAPTER XVII

MORE FUN

Sile Parks and Two Arrows had the whole valley before them and all the

mountains and valleys beyond, and one knew as much about them as did the

other. Neither had ever been just there before, and yet the young Nez

Perce was at home, and Sile was in a new country. Sile could ride well

and he could shoot well, but here at his side was a born hunter. With

all sorts of descriptive signs he asked him,

"Did you ever kill a deer?"

"Ugh! heap deer. Heap bear. Heap buffalo. Big heap."

And then all the pride of Two Arrows came to help him explain that he

had killed a cougar all alone, and a big-horn and a grisly. By the time

he had succeeded in doing so Sile regarded him as a red-skinned wonder,

but had so interpreted some of his signs as to include a big snake, a

land-turtle, and a kangaroo in the list of asserted victories. It gave

him some doubts as to the others, for he said to himself,

"No rabbit can jump as far as he says that thing did. There are no

kangaroos here, and they have no horns. I give it up. Maybe he is

lying, but he doesn't look so."

Two Arrows was boasting quite truthfully, and the trouble was with

Sile's translation.

"Ugh! look. Rifle--"

Sile's eyes followed the pointing finger in vain for a moment. At first

he saw nothing but a clump of sumach bushes, but for once he asked no

questions. What could be among them? One seemed to move a little. Could

it be possible? the horns of a buck!

"Maybe I can hit him. I've heard of such a thing. I'll aim below them;

his body is there somewhere."

Two Arrows could have told him just how that deer was standing, but

Sile's guess-work was pretty good. He let his rifle-muzzle sink on a

line with one of those antlers, and had lowered it a little too much

when he pulled the trigger. The kicking of the rifle made the aim a good

one, for the sharp report was answered by a great bound from the cover

of the sumachs, and in an instant a mortally-wounded buck was dashing

across the open, with One-eye close at his heels.

"Ugh! got him," said Two Arrows. "Heap shoot. Bow not so good."

Sile had offered to lend him a rifle at starting, but Two Arrows had

prudently refused to disgrace himself. He had never owned one and did

not care to show his lack of skill.

That was a fine dash after One-eye and the wounded buck, but it was a

short one. The bullet had done its work so thoroughly that there was

little trouble left for the dog when he seized his victim's throat to

pull him down.

There had been some hunting done by the mining party on their long

journey, but Sile could have told Two Arrows if he had chosen to do so,

that here lay the first deer he had ever killed. He could also have told

him that it appeared to be the largest, fattest, finest, most miraculous

buck that anybody in the world had ever killed; as it really was even

Two Arrows spoke well of the buck and thought well of the shot which had

brought it down.

"If I knew where to find our train I'd take it right in," said Sile, as

they hoisted the buck to his own saddle. "I'd just as lief walk."

"Find him," said Two Arrows, understanding the searching look Sile gave

towards the mountains. "Go so. Come. Get on horse; ride."

He took the lead at once, but it seemed to Sile that he was going in the

wrong direction. He was not at all aware that his friend had skilfully

directed their hunt on a line nearly parallel, at no great distance,

from that which the train must follow. He was therefore doubly

astonished when a brief ride brought them within sight of the

wagon-tilts. They had halted, and Sile had double comfort: he could

show his father his first deer and he could get a hot dinner, for

Ha-ha-pah-no could do very well with a steak if not with coffee.

"Which of you killed the deer?" asked the judge, as they rode in.

Sile was silent long enough for Two Arrows to point at him and remark,

"Heap shoot."

"So I did, father, but he pointed him out. I'd never have seen him if

I'd been alone."

"Jest so," said Yellow Pine. "There isn't anything else on the earth

like the eyesight of an Indian. I've had 'em sight game more'n once that

I'd ha' missed sure."

It puzzled Na-tee-kah somewhat that anybody else should have won

anything while her wonderful brother was near by, but Ha-ha-pah-no

relieved her by remarking,

"Ugh! The red-head kill deer. Two Arrows show him how. Good."

One of the miners had ridden out from the line of march and returned

with another deer, so that fresh venison was plentiful in the camp. Two

Arrows felt no longing for any more hunting that day, and he bluntly

said so. It was ten times more to his liking to ride along with the

train and keep his eyes busy. He was studying white men, and all the

world knows what a curious study they are. One white boy was also

studying him and his sister, and could not understand them at all.

Sile's eyes and thoughts ran about over everything he heard or saw

until he almost had a headache.

"Tell you what, father," he said to the judge, "when we go into camp

again I'm going to show them my box."

"It's a curiosity box. Show it to them."

The road was necessarily somewhat rough, and wagoning was slow work, and

before sunset a place was chosen for an all-night camp. Then came Sile's

experiment. He hauled a stoutly-made, leather-covered trunk out of one

of the wagons, before the eyes of Two Arrows and Na-tee-kah, and it was

instantly evident that neither had ever seen one, but that both

understood its use. He unstrapped it, but it did not open, and he made

them try it. Lock and key were mysteries they had no thought of, and

they almost started back with surprise when Sile pushed a thin bit of

steel into one side of that contrivance and all the upper part of it

could be tipped right over.

Sile's "box" would have been first-rate rummaging for any boy of his

acquaintance, and it was a mine of wonders to the two young savages. He

had put into it some things which could hardly be useful to him, even if

he should be cast away upon a mountain, as Robinson Crusoe was upon an

island, and it was so much the better fun for Two Arrows and Na-tee-kah.

The fishing-hooks, lines, reel, etc., made the eyes of the former fairly

dance, and Sile brought out a joint-rod and put it together, with a

reel on, to show him how the machine worked. Two Arrows grew thoughtful

over that affair.

"Big fish break him."

"No. Show you about that to-morrow morning."

"Ugh! ugh!" suddenly exclaimed Ha-ha-pah-no. "Red-head got squaw? Boy!"

He did look young to be married, but she was pointing straight at a

brush and comb and some other articles which, to her notion, did not

belong in the treasury of a young warrior. Sile at once explained that

he used them himself, but there were several brushes and combs, and she

added,

"Ugh! Beat squaw. Take 'em away from her. What she do?"

"Try it on," said Sile, handing a brush and comb to Na-tee-kah, and a

peal of laughter announced the pleasure of the two Indian ladies, old

and young. Even Two Arrows dropped a "spoon-hook" to take an interest in

that proceeding.

"Come," said Ha-ha-pah-no, with a long string of merry gutturals of

explanation that she had seen a white lady at one of the forts putting

up the hair of another. She herself could do it, and in twenty seconds

more there was a yell from Na-tee-kah and a tooth out of the comb.

"Let me show you," said Sile, and from that moment there was not one

sound from the lips of Na-tee-kah. Whether she was hurt or not nobody

knew, for if the comb had extracted hair by the handful she would not

have whimpered. Ha-ha-pah-no insisted on having her hair combed by

Na-tee-kah. She must know how now, it was evident, and she did, for the

comb lost another tooth in the very first tangles of Ha-ha-pah-no's

hair.

"That's fun," said Yellow Pine. "Jest look at them critters. That there

squaw'll crack that lookin'-glass, twistin' her face, 'fore her combin'

is done."

She stood it pretty well, but the other contents of the box had less

interest now. She and Na-tee-kah preferred to go on with the brush and

comb. Even Two Arrows looked at them so enviously that Sile told him the

white chiefs did comb their hair. It was enough. Squaws were made to

serve braves, and they were both commanded to take charge of his long,

bushy, and decidedly tangled barbering. Not for his life would he have

uttered a cry of pain, but he made up his mind that a pale-face can

endure a great deal before they got through with him.

Supper had to be eaten, and sharp appetites helped them to get away long

enough for that duty, but then the brush and comb began again under

Sile's instruction.

"That there comb won't last long," said Yellow Pine. "Tell 'em to put

on some grease, Sile, and some ribbons. Ribbons, Sile, and some beads,

and--"

"And some red flannel," said Jonas, "and some tinware."

"I'd forgotten all about that," exclaimed Sile, springing up.

In a few moments his visitors were in a new state of excitement, for

they were tying up their now glossy locks with brilliant ribbons and

strips of gay cloth. To these were added some of the brilliant

white-metal ornaments that pass for silver among the very youngest

pale-face children. Two Arrows put on his full share of all that was

offered and became a very gay-looking young Indian. There was no danger

that he would stand on his head and spoil his ribbons, but he felt

almost too proud to stand on his feet. He felt more and more sure that

the world did not contain quite such another hero, and longed for the

presence of his whole band, and of his entire tribe, and of several

other tribes, that he might walk up and down in front of them and be

admired. No white boy with a new stovepipe hat and a pair of yellow kid

gloves ever wanted to walk through so many streets or past quite so many

"boarding-schools" as did Two Arrows--only that his showing-off places

were such as he was best acquainted with.

Na-tee-kah was more quiet than even Ha-ha-pah-no, for that highly

respectable squaw had done up her head remarkably.

"All she wants to finish it off is two tin dippers and a set of

sleigh-bells. I saw a squaw do that once. There's no telling what they

won't put on. But I say, jedge, that there littler one is a born lady,

and she's right down good-lookin' too. All she needs is good dressin'

and she'd kind o' shine."

There was not a doubt of it, and her highly-colored ribbons had been put

on with better taste than those of Ha-ha-pah-no, and they showed to good

advantage her clear, dark complexion, brilliant eyes, and regular

features. Old Long Bear had a right to be proud of both his children.

It was grand fun, but there came an end to it at last. Two Arrows went

out to share with Sile his camp-watch, and Ha-ha-pah-no and Na-tee-kah

were shown to a small tent which had been pitched for them. It was

something of a trial to take all that finery away from the admiring

blaze of the camp-fire and carry it into the dark hiding-place of that

tent, but it had to be done. At all events they could rise early in the

morning and comb their hair again and arrange the ribbons and things in

some other way.

Na-tee-kah's new world was opening to her wonderfully, and she lay for a

long time wide awake, staring into the darkness and trying to imagine

pale-face squaws and their ways of doing up their hair and painting

themselves and putting on whole heaps of blankets of the most striking

colors and patterns.

Two Arrows: A Story of Red and White · 第 17 / 30 章