TERRIBLE TORTURE.
After a time the scout was removed from the post to which he had been
bound, led into a wigwam, and having been fettered securely, was
left to himself until the dawning of another day should afford the
opportunity for torture.
So noted a hunter and scout as Beaver Tail could not be hurried out
of the world. Great _éclat_ must be given to the event--every one of
the warriors must be notified--the torture must be of the superlative
degree.
But, great was their astonishment when the sun rose again and the
wigwam was found to be empty!
Numbers would have sworn that they had been constantly on the watch,
and he had not gone forth--that, save the braves and the squaws, no one
had been seen--that he must have vanished, even as the mist of morning
before the hot sun.
Yet, even while they were discussing what could possibly have become of
him, the scout was laughing in the forest, with the Indian girl, at the
tumult his flight had caused.
"It was most mighty cute of you, Cloud," he said, "ter think of such a
thing, and none but a smart woman like you could have posserbly carried
it out, without bein' found out."
"I feared," she replied, looking up lovingly into his face, "that even
after I had thrown the blankets and dresses into the wigwam, as Little
Raven and I were walking along, that you would not be able to get your
hands loose, and then all would have been useless."
"It was hard, that am er fact. But I l'arned somethin' of ther doctor,
and as yer war smart enuff ter throw in er knife too, I managed ter
git ther blade between my teeth and use it like er saw until ther
confounded thongs parted. But sich er time as I had gittin' ther things
on! And though I didn't see my way clear by a long shot, I couldn't
help laffin' ter think how like ther Old Scratch I would look in yer
woman's toggery. But I had ter wait er long time berfore I dared
venture out."
"The heart of Burning Cloud beat more swiftly than it had ever done
before, and she trembled like the leaves of the poplar in the winds of
winter."
"Yet somebody helped me, or I would have stuck fast, and more'n likely
bin a-roastin' by this time. Did yer have er hand in that ar' fracas?"
"I told Little Raven and my brother," she answered, with a smile, "to
go to the other side of the village and manage some way to draw the
warriors there while I gathered a crowd of young squaws for you to
mingle with and pass out of sight."
"And they did it most effectually! I never heard sich a screamin' and
yellin' and dorg-fightin' in all my born days, so I jest peeped out ter
see what ther row was, and findin' ther coast cl'ar, ventered."
"And soon was in a place of safety?"
"Yes, and more'n that, did er leetle matter of business arter you had
gone."
"What was that?" she questioned, curiously.
"Ther old Medercine will find out when he goes wanderin' inter his
devil's den ergin."
"Have you been to the secret cave of the Medicine?" she asked,
trembling with fear as she heard his answer, and looking upon him with
intense admiration as the bravest of the brave.
"I was thar. But I don't think I shall ever have any occasion ter go
ergin."
"What did you see?"
"I'll tell yer some time when we ain't got quite so much on hand--some
time when every thin' is peace and plenty around us and we've got
nothing to do but to talk and make love," and he gave her a sample in
advance.
"And now?" she questioned, as she released herself with some difficulty
from his over-warm embrace, even though pleased with it.
"Wal, ther plan we have talked about seems ter be ther best, and I
reckon we had better cling ter it."
"Then the Burning Cloud will go."
"It am about time."
Released, after another shower of kisses, the Indian girl stole back
again into the village and mingled with the crowd that surrounded the
Medicine. He was very much engaged in attempting to explain what he
knew nothing about, and was boldly asserting that the Evil Spirit had
carried off the scout bodily--that he had vanished like smoke and would
never be seen again, when a muffled form forced its way to where he
was standing, and, throwing aside the blanket that enfolded him, the
missing prisoner stood revealed, and said with a half-smile:
"I don't think ther Old Scratch has got hold on me yet, whatever he may
do some of these days."
The appearance of the Evil One, with hoofs, horns, claws and
brimstone-breath, could scarcely have produced a more decided
impression. The warriors started back in terror, the squaws fled
shrieking--the Medicine stood aghast, and had the scout been so minded
he could have gone whichever way he willed without any one daring to
molest him. But such was not his purpose. The part he was to play had
been well thought of, and, after giving them time to become somewhat
convinced that he was not a ghost escaped from the graveyard, he
continued:
"Warriors of ther Sioux, thar's er good many of yer who have known me
fer years and yer have always found my trail er honest and er open one.
We have bin friends and I mean that we shall be so ergin. Ef I had been
er mind I could have got whar yer never could have found me and it
would have been mighty dangerous fer yer ter come."
"Beaver Tail is cunning upon the trail and brave on the war-path,"
replied the chief, obliged to say something.
"Wal, I don't make no boast of fightin'--it hain't my trade. But I won
my name fairly in trappin' beaver, and yer know they are a cunnin'
varmint."
"The skins he has taken are countless as the stars."
"Not quite so many as that. But I didn't come back to brag. Yer see, I
trusted ye, and knew we would be friends ergin, when yer got ther black
scales from before yer eyes, an' stood in ther sunshine, an' could see
things as they am. So I came back with naked hands. S'arch me, ef yer
have er mind ter, an' yer won't find a weepon of any kind, not even so
much as ther leetlest knife, erbout me."
"Whatever trail his moccasins may have traveled, his tongue is
journeying that of truth."
"Yer kin bet every buffler-robe yer 've got on that, and win."
"Beaver Tail is wise. But he did not come back into the wigwams of the
Sioux to tell them this?"
"Not a bit on it. But I had ter go through with what the law-makers
of my people call ther preramble fust. What I come back fer war
ter whisper in yer ears that yer have bin nussin' a pesky, p'ison
sarpint in yer bosom, an' it am a-gittin' ready ter sting yer ter the
heart--all on yer."
There was a great commotion, and every one pressed still nearer to
catch his words, entirely forgetting their recent fears, while the
confused old Medicine muttered mysteriously:
"I knew there was some great danger coming, from the black circles
around the moon, and the rattling of the bones of the dead in their
coffins."
"Wal, ef yer did, yer took good keer ter keep it ter yerself, old fuss
and snake-skins and feathers."
"Let Beaver Tail go on," commanded the chief.
"And I'll make short work on it, too. The pale-face whom yer trusted
an' treated as a brother, are the blackest kind of a traitor."
"Ugh!"
"He has bin stealin' away, an' has got a great lot of warriors hidden
within a few miles, and they intend ter come an' butcher ye all--men
an' wimin an' children--jist on ercount of his lies."
"How do you know this?"
"Wal, I found it out; an' ter show I war yer friend, I scouted
around and found whar they am encamped, and got ther best of ther
white-skinned devil, and have him jist as safe as yer ever did a wolf
in a trap loaded with stones."
"Where is he?"
"That hain't the question now. In the fust place, yer must know that I
speak the truth. Thar's the brave Young Bear, an' Burning Cloud, an'
the Leetle Raven, as yer call them. See if all on them don't say the
same thing."
"Beaver Tail speaks well."
"And ther truth."
The three whom he had designated came forward and gave their testimony,
and then Young Bear told of having trailed the party, who were hidden
in the forest awaiting the signal of the renegade, Parsons, and that
there was quite a force and well armed.
"Thar!" exclaimed the scout, triumphantly; "hain't it jist as I said?"
"Beaver Tail is our brother!" answered a hundred voices.
"An' likely to be more so than yer knows on," with a sly wink at
Burning Cloud.
"Where is the traitor? Let our brother tell, that we may put him to the
torture, and then go and drive our enemies before us as the wolves do
the deer."
"Now, yer jist hain't a-goin' ter do any thin' of the kind! Yer kin
have the traitor fer torture, an' welcome, fer I never saw any one that
more desarved it. But, yer hain't a-goin' ter fight the rest. I'll go
an' explain it all, an' send them about thar business. Will yer agree
ter that?"
"There would be many scalps," mused the chief.
"An' yer'd be likely ter lose yer own, an' have the hull tribe wiped
clean out of the 'arth."
A brief discussion followed, and a faithful promise having been given
that no one of white skin should be molested but Parsons, the scout
gave a signal to the brother of the Burning Cloud, who, with another
brave, instantly disappeared. They soon returned, dragging along the
renegade, and the shout that then rent the heavens could have been
heard for miles.
"Now," said the scout, "yer can't expect me ter take er hand in yer
punishment. It wouldn't be nateral fer me ter do so. But ef I had my
way I'd whip him like er dorg."
It was an entirely new idea to the Indians, and immediately seized
upon. Despite his struggles and his pleadings, the renegade was dragged
to the post of torture--his garments cut away to his waist and his
naked back exposed. Then a dozen hands brought tough sprouts of the
hickory, and applied them with all the strength of their muscular arms.
The scout took advantage of the excitement attending the torture to
make a visit to the physician, whom he found among the happiest of
mortals. Fearing that something might still happen to him and his
beautiful Olive, the old scout secured the Young Bear and Little Raven
as guides and protectors, and saw them fairly started to join the party
waiting for the renegade.
"Yer kin tell them better nor I could," said the honest-hearted fellow,
"all erbout it."
"And you?" asked the physician.
"Wal, I've got ter stay and see the ther thing out."
"And then?"
"Why," blushing like a school-boy detected in stealing his first kiss,
"I'll have ter talk with ther Burning Cloud er leetle erbout that. She
hain't got so fair er skin as yer wife that am ter be, doctor, but her
heart am jest as white."
"I don't doubt it in the least."
"Ther fact am we perpose ter travel in double harness ther rest on our
lives and stick up er wigwam somewhar, though I can't tell jest yet
whar it will be."
"She is a good and brave girl."
"Yes, all of that, and ther Little Raven am ernuther. It hain't often
yer kin find _sich_ squaws. But, yer mustn't stand heah er talkin'. Git
ter ther camp of ther white folks as soon as ever yer kin."
"But, we shall certainly see you again?"
"More'n likely. Yes, we--that am ther Cloud and me--will strike yer
trail berfore long, and prehaps keep on with yer till ther end. I've
quite er notion ter gi'n up this 'er' jerrymanderin' life and settle
down, and I reckon diggin' gold will suit me as well as any thin' else,
'specially as it am in er country whar I kin hunt when I have er mind
ter."
He wrung both their hands, went with them as far as possible upon the
trail, and then returned to talk to his dusky love about their future.
But as the shadows lengthened he was again attracted to the prisoner,
and saw that the torture had been renewed.
He was standing tied to the fire-blackened post, evidently more dead
than alive. Almost entirely stripped of his clothing there was not
a spot to be found that did not bear the marks of arrow, hatchet,
knife or whip, and the blood that had oozed forth had congealed and
gave him the most ghastly appearance that could be imagined. His
hair and whiskers were clotted and his face streaked with gore, and
between the crimson lines was white as chalk, while the working of the
muscles--twitching constantly with pain--made the strong-hearted scout
shudder and grow faint even to gaze upon.
* * * * *
Night passed, and with every mark of the horrid torture removed, the
village rung with notes of joy. It had become known that the white man
wished to be adopted into the tribe--that he was to take the Burning
Cloud for a wife and that he had already notified the chief to that
effect.
Great, consequently, were the preparations, especially as the Young
Bear and Little Raven would be married at the same time, and the simple
ceremony having been performed, the entire tribe feasted--and made
gluttons of themselves.
Then the newly married couples stole away to pass their honeymoon
alone. Such a thing was common, and nothing was thought of it. But
though one returned after the lapse of a few days, of the other nothing
was ever seen, and the scout and his bride became only a remembrance
among the Sioux.