Little Horse was a member of the proud and courageous Delaware tribe. He
grew up in his tribe among a people who were peaceful. They hunted and
fished and sang and danced and celebrated much as most tribes did in the
very early days, but there was to come a time when all was not peace and
contentment.
Little Horse had been well trained by his father, Running Bear, and he
had taken his lessons as a young boy very seriously. Though he had
practiced very hard, he had never become very good with the bow and
arrow or the tomahawk. But he had become very good at using and throwing
the traditional hunting knife which was his proudest possession.
It was spring in the valley of the Delawares and day followed day with
the peaceful and warm sun shining down upon the village in which Little
Horse lived. Occasionally the soft rains would descend on the forest and
hillside making everything wet and a rich green color. All was happiness
in the village until that fateful day when Little Horse decided to take
his long trip.
Shouldering his stout bow and a quiver of arrows he started out along
the forest trail. He desired to go to the upper end of the valley and
search out some wild turkey which he had heard many of the returning
hunters speak about. The fact that the place where these turkeys lived
was almost a day’s journey from his village did not seem to bother him,
for he had placed in his food pouch enough dried venison and he would
have berries and nuts along the way.
As he walked along, he looked from side to side watching for signs of
wild game, not wanting to kill any so close to home but wanting to test
his senses of hearing and sight which had been trained by his father so
patiently.
Once in a while, Little Horse would stop in his journey to partake of
some fresh water or just to rest on a moss patch under some large tree
and think about the wonders of nature and the wonderful peace in his
tribe.
Then he would rise and continue his journey which took him further and
further from home with each step. And not realizing it, he had soon
crossed into the land of the Iroquois, for his particular tribe had
their village close to the line which separated the lands of the
Delawares from the hunting grounds of the Iroquois.
This talk of tribal lands and borders did not mean much to Little Horse,
although he had heard his father speak quite often of the Iroquois; and
though he had been told never to wander too far from the village, he
felt he was grown up enough by this time to take care of himself. One
other thing which meant very little to Little Horse was the fact that in
this period, neighboring tribes were often at war with each other, for
war between tribes was rather common among the American Indians.
Stealing and quarreling among individuals and trespassing upon hunting
grounds were but a few reasons for this constant state of war and
feuding. But to a young lad like Little Horse, who was so wrapped up in
his desire to hunt the elusive turkey, war and fighting were the
furthest things from his mind.
Meanwhile Running Bear, back at the village, was asking about for his
son, for today he was to have taken him fishing in the great lake. No
one seemed to know where the boy was until Running Bear asked a group of
children playing on the edge of the village, and one of them replied
that he had seen Little Horse with his food pouch at his belt and his
bow over his shoulder trotting up the trail that led to the north and
into the land of the Iroquois.
Fear gripped Running Bear’s heart. Just that morning one of the hunters
had returned from the forest to tell of having found three Iroquois
painted arrows stuck in the ground in a row, which was a sign of open
warfare and he had the three arrows gripped in his hand which had been
found close by to the village. This could mean but one thing. For some
reason the Iroquois had been aroused, and now no Delaware would be safe
alone any great distance from the home encampment. As long as this open
warfare lasted, now they would have to travel in groups.
Running Bear feared for his son. So Running Bear gathered a few of his
friends, and in a group they started up the trail toward the land of the
Iroquois, hoping that Little Horse had not gone too far after all.
But they were to be sadly disappointed, for Little Horse at this moment
was deep in Iroquois territory on the trail of wild turkey.
As Little Horse walked silently along the forest trails, he suddenly
realized that it had become very quiet. He stopped to listen for the
song of the birds but he heard none. He even found it so quiet that the
breeze sounded like a windstorm. Someone or something else was near by,
for only for that reason would all the forest creatures grow silent.
Then he heard the call of one solitary bird ahead and off to the left.
And then behind him to the right he heard a similar call and then Little
Horse knew.
It came upon him suddenly like a thundering in his ears. He realized
that he was no longer in Delaware country, for this was the call of the
Iroquois which his father had taught to him. But what had he to fear?
The Delawares and the Iroquois were not at war, and so he boldly
shouldered his bow and turned to start for home down the trail. But
before he had taken two steps there was a loud whooping from many
directions and before Little Horse could do anything, he was surrounded
and his arms pinned by four husky Iroquois braves. One of them
brandishing a shining knife was about to take the boy’s life when
another brave stepped from the brush and spoke, “Put down your knife.
This Delaware is tall, but he is only a boy.”
“But he is still a Delaware,” cried the brave, holding the knife close
to the heart of Little Horse.
“No matter, he is young and strong. We will take him back to the village
with us. We have not had much sport these days of late. This young one
will make a fair game for us. We will have him run the gauntlet to see
whether he will be permitted to live. I, Crooked Hand, have spoken.”
Little Horse then realized that Crooked Hand must be some sort of leader
in the tribe, for there was no more argument. The arms of Little Horse
were then tightly bound behind him and he was roughly shoved along the
trail toward the village from whence these warriors had come. His
weapons had been gathered, and one of the braves carried these as the
party trotted easily along the trail, pressing Little Horse before them.
It was not too long after this that Running Bear and his rescue party
arrived at the place where the struggle had taken place. It was soon
evident to all the braves in the party that Little Horse had been taken
prisoner, for once past the marks of the struggle, it was easy to pick
out the markings of his moccasins in the soft earth of the trail and
Little Horse had made sure to come down heavily on his feet in order to
leave a trail plain enough for any who might follow to see.
Running Bear and his party pressed forward, going more stealthily now,
for they were deep in the territory of the Iroquois and from all signs
quite close to the village. Suddenly Running Bear stopped and signaled
the party to flatten themselves upon the ground. Through the trees he
had seen the feather of an Iroquois and, hardly daring to breathe, they
waited. Detection now would mean almost certain death, for they were
tired from their long race through the forest and the Iroquois, being
close to home and fresh, would have made easy victims of the Delawares.
The lone Iroquois brave had stopped and looked around and then
satisfying himself that nothing out of the ordinary was around had
continued along the trail in pursuit of the rest of his party which had
Little Horse captive.
Running Bear, when he felt it was safe, gathered his friends about him
and then spoke in a whisper.
“We will wait until it is dark and then I will approach the village and
see if it would be possible for us to rescue Little Horse and return to
our village. It is very late and surely he will not be in danger
tonight, for the thieving Iroquois will go into council to decide what
to do with him. He is definitely a prisoner and most likely since he is
young and strong but yet a boy they will make him run the gauntlet
tomorrow as a test as to whether he will be permitted to live or must
die.”
When darkness fell, Running Bear slipped through the forest to the edge
of the Iroquois village and there, hidden in the brush, he was able to
view the happenings in the village. He noticed one particular wigwam
being well guarded and this he presumed was where Little Horse was being
held prisoner. Then as his eyes wandered about the village he noticed a
number of older men entering the large council lodge.
This was a fairly large village of the Iroquois, and Running Bear felt
that it would be useless for his small band to attempt a rescue of
Little Horse.
Suddenly he heard a slight rustling to the side of the trail and peering
into the darkness he saw the figure of a brave approaching the trail. He
waited and when the brave was almost upon him he reached out and
throwing his arms around the throat of the Iroquois he drove his knife
into the brave’s heart.
Without a sound the Iroquois slipped to the ground. Running Bear turned
and fled back through the forest. They must leave the land quickly, for
as soon as the dead brave was discovered a large party would be sent to
look for the killers. So as soon as Running Bear had returned to his
friends they made a hasty retreat from the vicinity of the village and,
running at a steady pace, returned to their village to report the
findings. Running Bear planned to gather a large force and the following
evening they would attack the Iroquois village and seek to rescue Little
Horse.
Meanwhile Little Horse sat in the wigwam of the Iroquois village
awaiting the decision of the council and it was not long in coming. Soon
a rather tall Iroquois brave entered and standing in the doorway he
informed Little Horse that the council had agreed to spare his life if
tomorrow he could prove himself worthy of the gift of life by running
the gauntlet.
When the sun was directly overhead he would be placed at the head of two
rows of Iroquois and at a given signal would run the gauntlet of war
clubs prepared for him.
It would be ridiculous to say that Little Horse was not frightened, for
at this particular time Little Horse was a very scared little brave. He
had known nothing but comfort and warmth and friendliness since the day
he was born, and the loving care and kindness of his family and friends
had been his only contact with Indian life. Here in the village of a
tribe which he had not thought to be hostile, he suddenly found himself
a prisoner and about to be forced to run the gauntlet of war clubs.
He had heard a great deal about the gauntlet from his father who had
witnessed the gauntlet and had told of his experience as one of the line
of braves making up the gauntlet when they dealt with some of their
prisoners.
Little Horse was afraid, and his fear kept him from resting his body for
the coming ordeal. Then in the midst of this fear which gripped his
heart, Little Horse remembered the words of his father.
“My son,” Running Bear had said to him one day, “if ever you should find
yourself in trouble or in danger, remember that you are a Delaware and
the Delawares are a strong and proud people. Rest as much as you can,
force your body to relax so that you may be prepared for whatever ordeal
you must face. You have been taught every skill possible except the
skill of courage. This you must have in your heart and if courage abides
in your heart as the beaver in the stream, then fear can be overcome and
one can consider himself prepared for any hardship which may lie ahead.”
Remembering those words was great comfort to Little Horse and again and
again he kept repeating them to himself. Soon the chill that seemed to
be in his body left him and the cold fear that gripped his heart
released its hold and he was calm once again. When his body relaxed and
his mind was at ease, Little Horse slept.
No sense to worry over what tomorrow will bring, but remember the words
of Running Bear. Twice more he repeated the words of his father to
himself and with that he was asleep.
He had not been asleep long when the door of the wigwam was darkened by
two of the braves who had aided in his capture that afternoon. As they
viewed the boy asleep on the floor, the taller of the two spoke.
“He sleeps. Look how calm his face is. Notice the slight smile upon his
lips. This is the sign of a growing warrior. Courage burns deep in his
heart. For even now, knowing that tomorrow he may have to die, he sleeps
the peaceful sleep of a baby. This lad can be no more than fifteen and
yet he is tall and strong and he had a good face. For many moons we have
been at peace with our brothers the Delawares and now war and
bloodshed.” The other brave shook his head and, looking at the lad, he
spoke.
“If you had not been present when he was captured, his hair would now be
hanging from the wigwam of the vicious one. He has the blood of several
Delawares upon his hands now and one more would only have added to his
greatness even if it were only the scalp of a boy.
“Masi is a ruthless brave. Ever since he was beaten in battle by the
brave Delaware, Running Bear, he has carried hatred in his heart for the
Delawares. Their having sent hunting parties into the land of the
Iroquois and taken game from our hunting grounds was all the excuse that
was needed. And so our tribes are at war, and it will not cease until
many are dead and there is much sadness in the wigwams of both tribes.”
With these words, the warriors withdrew from the door.
Little Horse had heard all and pondered the words of the Iroquois. He
had not known that any of their tribe had invaded the hunting grounds of
the Iroquois unless it had been himself. This troubled him, but he
pushed the thoughts from his mind and slept once again. Because of his
training he slept soundly and as dawn broke through the greyness he
awoke feeling quite hungry and thirsty.
The guards at his door looked in, and soon food and drink were brought
to him. He ate hungrily and drank long of the cool water and when he had
finished, his guards stepped forward and once again bound his wrists.
However, they took him outside the wigwam and allowed him to walk up and
down for a short while to give his muscles exercise. The morning passed
quickly and soon it was time.
Little Horse felt the old fear once again returning to his breast and
now there was nothing he could do to force it back. As the guards
approached they noticed Little Horse looking upward as if to speak with
someone and it was true, for Little Horse was calling upon the powers of
nature to give him strength at this hour of trial.
His guards approached him and, grasping his arms, dragged him from the
wigwam, for now fear had gripped the heart of Little Horse and he fought
the hands of the Iroquois which held his arms in firm grip and he fought
the tough thongs which bound his wrists. But twist and turn as he would,
it did no good and soon he was standing before the elders of the tribe.
Across the center of the village he saw the gauntlet of tall powerful
braves begin to form and his legs trembled slightly. The elders talked
among themselves, and then one old man stepped forward and spoke to
Little Horse.
“Your tribe has invaded the lands of the Iroquois in seeking wild game
and in doing so they have broken the law of the tribes. If they had
stayed on their own ground there would have been no need for war. But
for the Iroquois to do nothing when their neighbor invades the sacred
hunting ground would be as if we shouted through the forest that we were
weak and afraid of the Delawares. You have been captured on our land and
as an example to all Delawares you will be made to run the gauntlet. If
you do so successfully your life will be spared, but if not the war
clubs my braves now hold shall beat your body till it blends with the
dirt of the forest floor and you are no more. Are you ready for the
ordeal?”
Little Horse held his head high and looking straight into the eyes of
the elder warrior, he said, “I know not of any of our braves that
invaded your hunting grounds unless it was myself. In pursuit of the
wild turkey, I ran quickly along the trail and was in the land of the
Iroquois before I realized. I did not think that the great Iroquois
would miss one little wild turkey.”
The old warrior looked stern and then he said, “It is not you but other
braves of your tribe who have entered our grounds, but you and I are not
here to argue, for I will not even discuss it, the law has been broken
and war has been declared. Already the blood of one of our warriors had
been spilled on the very edge of our camp.”
With this statement the heart of Little Horse beat just a little faster,
for if one of the Iroquois had died close to the village then the
Delawares must have followed and there was still hope that he would be
rescued.
“I am ready for the gauntlet,” Little Horse said.
With that he was dragged to the head of the two lines. He looked down
the two long rows of warriors standing like statues with war clubs
raised, each one hoping that his blow would be the one that would deal
death to this Delaware. Then the signal was given, and Little Horse took
a deep breath and started running with top speed. As he ran he ducked
from side to side and hesitated, forcing one blow to come down too soon
or miss entirely. Halfway down the line he had not fared too badly, but
as he came to the second half he was thrown a little off stride and
could not duck so many of the blows. Several landed rather solidly upon
his back and shoulders and arms and he began to feel weak, but with a
last spurt of speed he reached the end of the line just as the club of
Masi glanced off the side of his head. Instead of slumping to the ground
between the two rows, Little Horse fell forward clear of the line and as
Masi raised his club to strike again the elder stepped forward and
raising his arms he said,
“Cease, Masi, for the boy is clear of the gauntlet. He has received
quite a beating, but breath still stirs in his body. He is a brave lad
and has earned the right to live.”
Little Horse was then carried to a wigwam where his bruises were cared
for. Food and water were brought and he was made comfortable. The tall
warrior that had prevented his death upon the trail entered the wigwam
and spoke with Little Horse.
“O my brave young man, you have proved to be quite courageous this day,
and the Iroquois admire the courage of even their enemies. You will rest
now and when you are well we will talk.”
With that he left the wigwam, and sudden darkness came once again to
Little Horse as he fell unconscious.
Meanwhile Running Bear had gathered quite a force of Delawares and was
approaching the village from the south. Advance scouts who had been near
the village of the Iroquois throughout the day reported the gauntlet and
the exact location where they had placed the boy.
Running Bear swiftly gave his orders and the band advanced at a quicker
pace, spreading out so that by the late afternoon a strong semicircle of
Delaware braves surrounded the Iroquois stronghold.
At a given signal from Running Bear, the attack was on. The attack was
such that the Iroquois were caught completely by surprise. Though the
band of attacking Delawares was much smaller than the number of Iroquois
in the village, they swooped into the village to surprise the guards
surrounding the wigwam of Little Horse.
They rushed in and gathering the body of the still unconscious boy they
rushed out again and into the forest, and were away before the Iroquois
had gathered themselves together. By the time the Iroquois were ready to
do battle, the Delawares had left, leaving the bodies of four Iroquois
and two of their own attacking party dead upon the ground surrounding
the wigwam where Little Horse had been held captive.
Once the rescue had been accomplished the attacking Delawares did not
wait to join in battle with the now furious Iroquois but sped swiftly
toward the south and the safety and security of their own village. They
traveled at a very fast pace and though it was growing dark it was not
long before they had placed many miles between themselves and the
village of the Iroquois.
Onward through the night and into the next day they pressed until soon
they could see the smoke of the Delaware village. They arrived in the
middle of the village among the welcoming shouts of their friends and
families who had awaited their return with growing anxiety.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Little Horse was placed in the warmth and
seclusion of his father’s wigwam and when his hurts had been attended
to, his father knelt by his side to add what comfort he could, and to
add his praise to the courage of the boy. He promised that he, Running
Bear, would not rest until he had paid back the Iroquois for the
injuries they had inflicted upon his son.
“Now rest, my son,” Running Bear said, “and when you have rested and
eaten we shall talk some more.” Running Bear turned to leave but Little
Horse placed his hand upon his arm and bade him stay.
“Wait, my father, for there is something I must tell you. While at the
village of our neighbors the Iroquois I learned why it was that they had
declared war upon the Delawares. It was reported to them that the
Delawares had invaded their hunting ground and made off with many kills.
This being a breach of the peace between the tribes, they had no choice
but to declare that war existed between their own tribe and that of the
Delawares.”
“This is a serious matter, my son,” said Running Bear, “for we have had
plenty of food on our own land and I see no reason for any of our braves
going into the land of the Iroquois to hunt. But this matter is of grave
importance and we must hold a council immediately, for the Iroquois are
probably at this very moment preparing a great dance, since tomorrow
they will no doubt move to attack our village.”
With that, Running Bear left his wigwam and calling the elder braves
together, they immediately went into council. After telling the council
all that his son had reported to him, Running Bear asked that the tribe
be assembled and told of the situation that existed. The council agreed
and very shortly the whole tribe was gathered in the center of the ring
and one of the elders rose to speak.
“The Iroquois have declared war, and Little Horse tells us that the
reason for this is that some of our braves have invaded their hunting
grounds to kill the swift deer. If this is true we have done the
Iroquois a grave injustice. The forest and fields of our land have
yielded us much food this past year and I see no reason for having left
our lands to hunt elsewhere. Who among you has caused the wrath of the
Iroquois to be brought down upon our heads?”
One at a time the leaders of the families stepped forward to deny that
they had left the sacred hunting grounds of the Delawares until all had
spoken. When no one had accepted the guilt, Running Bear rose and spoke.
“If no one of our village has violated the sacred lands of the Iroquois,
we have committed no crime. Of this I must speak further. For at this
moment the Iroquois are probably on their way to our village to seek
revenge for our attack last night. I will take with me two warriors and
without weapons we shall go to speak of peace with our neighbors, the
Iroquois.
“Already seven brave young men are dead, and my own son lies hurt and
bleeding in my wigwam. In order to prevent the shed of further blood, I
must go to meet the oncoming Iroquois with only talk of peace.
Somewhere, somehow, an injustice has been done, and we must right this
wrong before peace can once more prevail over our land.”
With that, Running Bear selected two stout warriors and leaving their
weapons behind they proceeded at a steady pace back up the path toward
the Iroquois country. They traveled swiftly and many hours later Running
Bear suggested they stop and rest.
As the three warriors rested at the side of the trail, they were
suddenly surrounded by many Iroquois braves. Their arms were tightly
bound and menacing motions with tomahawk and knife were made. But the
same warrior that had prevented the death of Little Horse stepped
forward and, raising his arm for silence, he spoke to Running Bear.
“You appear to be the leader of this small party and I ask you why you
come to the land of the Iroquois without arms when open war exists?”
Running Bear spoke loud and clear for the whole Iroquois war party to
hear. “I, Running Bear, with my two fellow warriors come in peace to
speak with the council of the great Iroquois. As you can see, we carry
no arms and we rested in the open along the trail, hoping that we would
find our Iroquois neighbors before they and the Delawares shed each
other’s blood once again.”
The Iroquois brave said nothing, but having the wrists of the three
Delawares bound they were herded along the trail back to the camp of the
Iroquois.
As the party entered the camp they could hear much moaning and crying
from the families of the Iroquois that had been slain and also they
observed the menacing looks as the people of the village crowded around
the party, pressing ever closer hoping for a reason to swing a club or a
tomahawk or drive a knife deep into the head or hearts of these
Delawares who so boldly approached the village without arms.
But the tall leader of the war party guided them safely to a wigwam
where they were placed under heavy guard until the council lodge had
been prepared for the great council.
When the elders and wise men of the tribe had gathered, the prisoners
were led before them. Running Bear spoke briefly of their mission and
then in a loud clear voice he said,
“The Delawares have sworn to their chiefs that none among our village
have invaded the hunting grounds of the Iroquois and therefore there is
no need for war between us.”
There was some hushed conversation and then one of the elders spoke to a
guard at the door. “Summon the warrior known as Masi.” Masi was brought
to the council and the elder who had summoned him spoke.
“Masi, it was you who reported to the council of the thievery of the
Delaware and it was you who brought to our council the entrails of a
deer to prove before the council your story of having seen the hunting
party of Delawares invade our lands and kill much wild game. Now tell
these warriors who come to us from the Delawares that you have seen this
with your own eyes.”
Masi spoke and told of having seen a hunting party of some fifteen
braves of the Delawares stalk, kill, and strip the carcasses of several
deer and take several wild turkey and other wild game. When he had
finished, the council looked first at Masi and then at Running Bear. The
elder was about to speak once more when the tall warrior who had saved
the life of Little Horse stepped forward and spoke to the council.
“I do not know why,” he said, “but my heart tells me the Delaware speaks
truth. For many weeks now Masi has brooded over the death of his sister,
and his mind has not been quite right since she died of the great
sickness. We know that Masi has been a great warrior, but ask him once
again to repeat what he saw. For when he first told his story the
hunting party of Delawares were six in number. Suddenly they have
increased to number fifteen.”
“Yes, yes,” cried Masi, “and there have been many, many more since that
day. If we are not careful they will be in our village in one more sun
and we shall all be murdered in our sleep.”
With that, Masi began to scream and he threw himself upon the ground,
tearing at the ground and bemoaning the death of his young sister whom
he had loved dearly. He was truly a grief-stricken brave gone mad.
The elder who seemed to be a leader in the council stepped forward then
and placing his hands upon the shoulders of Running Bear, he said,
“There has been a great wrong done here, and we must sit and smoke the
peacepipe together. We ask forgiveness, for we have wronged each other
greatly. Once again peace shall exist between the Iroquois and the
Delawares and let us not allow anything to break that peace. Brothers we
have been in the past, and brothers we will be again. Come sit with us
and we shall smoke the pipe.”
With that, the peacepipe was passed from hand to hand and when all had
smoked, food and drink were brought. Then there was much rejoicing as
the village was told of the results of the council meeting. Loaded down
with gifts, Running Bear and his two warriors returned to their village
with the word of peace.
After telling of the good news, Running Bear went to his wigwam where he
found Little Horse now able to sit up and partake of solid food. He
seated himself next to his son and once again praised him for the
courage he had showed and explained to him how important the information
he had brought had been—how he, Running Bear, was able through talk with
the council of Iroquois to bring about peace between the Delawares and
the Iroquois.