LAME WOLF, THE YOUNG CHEYENNE.
"Look here, fellows," said Glen, as he stood with one hand on the
shoulder of the young Indian, and facing his companions, who, attracted
by curiosity, were gathered to hear what he had to say. "This chap is a
Cheyenne, and is one of the three by whom I was captured; but he was
mighty kind, and did everything he could think of to make things easy
for me. So you see he is my friend, and now that he is in trouble, I am
bound to do what I can to help him. His name is Lame Wolf--" (here the
young Indian stood a little straighter, and his eyes flashed. He had
succeeded in having that name recognized as belonging to him, at any
rate), "and he's the son of a chief, and the only English word he knows
is 'How?' Captain Winn says that if he only had a chance he'd learn as
quick as any white boy, and I believe he'd learn a good deal quicker
than some--" At this point Glen became somewhat confused, and wondered
if Binney Gibbs had told how he had been dropped from his class. "He
says, I mean Captain Winn says, that the only thing for him to do out
here is to go on a reservation and become a worthless good-for-nothing,
and get killed. Now that seems a pretty poor sort of a chance for a
fellow that's been as good a friend to me as Lame Wolf has, and I want
you to help me give him a better one.
"I want to send him back to my home in Brimfield, and let him live with
my folks a year or two, and be taught things the same as white boys, and
have the same chance they have. Captain Winn says he thinks he can fix
it with the folks at Washington about letting him go; but he don't know
where the money to pay his expenses is to come from. I didn't tell him,
because I thought I'd speak to you first; but I was pretty sure it would
come from this very party. I've only got five dollars in cash myself,
but I'll give that, and I'll save all I can out of my pay for it, too.
Now, what do you say, fellows? Shall Lame Wolf have a chance or not?"
"Yes! yes! of course he shall! Hurrah for Lame Wolf! Hurrah for Glen's
little Injun! Give him a chance! Put me down for half a month's pay! And
me! and me!" shouted a dozen voices at once.
"Billy" Brackett jumped up on a box, and, calling the meeting to order,
proposed that a committee of three be appointed, with Mr. Hobart as its
chairman, to receive subscriptions to the Lame Wolf Fund.
"All-in-favor-say-aye-contrary-mind-it-is-a-vote!" he shouted. Then
somebody else nominated him and Glen to be the other members, and they
were elected without a dissenting voice.
While all this was going on the fellows were crowding about the young
Indian, eager to shake hands with him, and say, "How! Lame Wolf, old
boy! How!"
All at once Glen found that the boy was leaning heavily on him, and
reproached himself for having allowed him to stand so long on his
wounded leg. He got his charge back to the guard-house as quickly as
possible, and then, leaving him to enjoy a quiet night's rest, hurried
back to camp.
Here he found "Billy" Brackett presiding, with great dignity, over what
he was pleased to call the "subscription books." They consisted of a
single sheet of paper, fastened with thumb-tacks to a drawing-board that
was placed on top of a barrel in one of the tents. Mr. Hobart, who had
consented to serve on the committee, was also in the tent, and to him
were being handed the cash contributions to the Fund.
Glen put his name down for five dollars a month, to be paid as long as
he should remain a member of the present expedition. Then he started for
his own tent to get the five dollars in cash that he had promised, out
of his valise.
As he was hurrying back with it he was stopped by Binney Gibbs, who
thrust a bit of paper into his hand, saying,
"I want you to take this check for your Indian, Glen. Father sent it to
me to buy a horse with, but I guess a mule is good enough for me, and so
the Indian chap can have it as well as not. You needn't say anything
about it."
With this, Binney, who had spoken in a confused manner, hurried away
without giving Glen a chance to thank him.
What had come over the boy? Glen had never known him to do a generous
thing before. He could not understand it. When he reached the tent, and
examined the check, his amazement was so great that he gave a long
whistle.
"What is it, Glen? Give us a chance to whistle too," shouted "Billy"
Brackett. "Our natural curiosity needs to be checked as well as yours."
"Binney Gibbs has contributed a hundred dollars," said Glen, slowly, as
though he could not quite believe his own words to be true.
"Good for Grip! Bravo for Binney! Who would have thought it? He's a
trump, after all!" shouted "Billy" Brackett and the others who heard
this bit of news.
Far beyond the tent, these shouts reached the ears of a solitary figure
that stood motionless and almost invisible in the night shadows. They
warmed his heart, and caused his cheeks to glow. It was a new sensation
to Binney Gibbs to be cheered and praised for an act of generosity. It
was a very pleasant one as well, and he wondered why he had never
experienced it before.
The truth is that this rough life, in which every person he met was his
equal, if not his superior, was doing this boy more good than any one
had dared to predict that it would. Although he was a prize scholar, and
the son of a wealthy man, there were many in this exploring-party who
were far better scholars, and more wealthy than he. Yet even these were
often outranked in general estimation by fellows who had neither social
position, money, nor learning. At first Binney could not understand it.
Things were so different in Brimfield; though even there he remembered
that he had not been as popular among the other boys as Glen Eddy. Even
in this party, where Binney had expected to be such a shining light, the
other Brimfield boy was far better liked than he. For this Binney had
hated Glen, and declared he would get even with him. Then he began,
furtively, to watch him in the hope of discovering the secret of his
popularity. Finally it came to him, like a revelation, and he realized
for the first time in his life that, in man or boy, such things as
unselfishness, honesty, bravery, good-nature, generosity, and
cheerfulness, or any one of them, will do more towards securing the
regard, liking, and friendship of his fellows than all the wealth or
book-learning in the world.
Perhaps if Glen had not been captured by the Cheyennes, Binney would not
have learned this most valuable lesson of his life as quickly as he did.
In the general grief over his schoolmate's disappearance, he heard his
character praised for one or another lovable trait, until at length the
secret of Glen's popularity was disclosed to him. Then, as he looked
back and recalled the incidents of their Brimfield life, he realized
what a manly, fearless, open-hearted boy this one, whom he had regarded
with contempt, because he was not a student, had been. Now that he was
gone, and, as he supposed, lost to him forever, Binney thought there was
nothing he would not give for a chance to recall the past and win the
friendship he had so contemptuously rejected.
For two days these thoughts exercised so strong a sway on Binney's mind,
that when, on the third, Glen Eddy appeared before him as one risen from
the dead, their influence was not to be shaken off. Although he did not
know exactly how to begin, he was determined not only to win the
friendship of the boy whom he had for so long regarded as his rival, but
also to make every member of the party like him, if he possibly could.
His first opportunity came that evening; but it was not until after a
long struggle with selfishness and envy that he resolved to contribute
that one-hundred-dollar check to the Lame Wolf Fund. He knew that he cut
an awkward figure on his mule, and imagined that a horse would not only
be much more elegant, but easier to ride. Then, too, Glen had such a
beautiful mare; beside her his wretched mule would appear to a greater
disadvantage than ever. He could buy as fine a pony as roamed the Plains
for a hundred dollars. Then, too, that was what his father had sent him
the money for. Had he a right to use it for any other purpose? To be
sure, Mr. Gibbs had not known of the mule, and supposed his son would be
obliged to go on foot if he did not buy a horse.
So poor Binney argued with himself, and his old evil influences strove
against the new resolves. It is doubtful if the latter would have
conquered, had not the sight of Glen coming towards him brought a sudden
impulse to the aid of the resolves and decided the struggle in their
favor.
Thus generosity won, but by so narrow a margin that Binney could not
stand being thanked for it, and so hurried away. But he heard the shouts
and cheers coupled with his name, and it seemed to him that he felt even
happier at that moment than when he stood on the platform of the
Brimfield High School and was told of the prize his scholarship had won.
So the money was raised to redeem one young Cheyenne from the misery and
wickedness of a government Indian reservation; and, when the grand total
of cash and subscriptions was footed up, it was found to be very nearly
one thousand dollars. Glen was overjoyed at the result, and it is hard
to tell which boy was the happier, as he crept into his blankets that
night, he or Binney Gibbs.