THE MOOSE OF MYSTERY.
I would that I might give here the speech that Ruth made to those
Crees, there by the dim light of the little fire, her yellow hair
flashing forth from the wolf-fur hood in long tendrils, her eyes
striving to pierce through the darkness to those stolid faces about
her. She did not speak their language at all well, and I saw plainly
that the hearing had been given her out of courtesy alone. They were
our friends, were these Crees, because we were the friends of
Radisson, and they would do all for us that friends might.
At length she finished and turned away. I stepped forward when the
old chief had gravely risen and thanked her, and led her to the
entrance. When I returned, the same old man rose and addressed me.
"Our brother Brave Eyes has heard the words of the Yellow Lily. They
were like the dew upon the trees at dawn--sparkling and refreshing,
but not fit to quench the thirst of the warriors. There is much that
we do not understand, and we hope that Brave Eyes will set our minds
at rest."
I waited a space, knowing that this would add dignity to my words.
Even as I rose to my feet, a noise of dogs came from without, the
flap of the door was pushed aside and The Keeper, The Arrow and
Radisson entered and flitted to their seats in the Council. This
seemed like a good omen to me, and I took heart again.
Now I appealed to the warriors direct, strove to wake them to
consciousness of what my message meant, applied all that I said to
their life and daily acts. As I went on, the words flowed almost of
themselves, and I, who had ever been a clumsy, gawky lout, felt with
a thrill that I was commanding these men. Yet it was not I, as none
knew better. It was a Something that spoke in and through me, until
in the end I felt a great fear of what that Something might be. None
the less, I said what I had to say, and so seated myself again, the
sweat standing out on my brow.
For a long, long time there was no sound within the lodge. Then I
saw The Keeper rise to his feet and walk out beside the fire,
standing a moment like a dark statue.
"My brothers," he said in Cree, "we have listened to very great
words. In my own land the Great Spirit has sent his Blackrobes to
speak such words to us, and we have listened. I am very old, my
brothers. These words are sweet in my ears. But my white brothers,
Brave Eyes and White Eagle, have not heard all. The Great Spirit has
not whispered to them of the Mighty One. Perhaps he has sent them
that the Mighty One should be slain, and that the Cree nation should
know which was the True Great Spirit. I have ended."
I did not understand the conclusion of this speech, but I did
understand the half-audible gasp of horror that ran through the
lodge. It brought back to me the time when I was a little fellow,
and had gone to meeting one day with my father and mother. While the
preacher was thundering forth, I had escaped from mother and toddled
away to look up in laughing wonder at the tall figure of Alec Gordon,
with his stiff starched bands. In that moment the same shuddering
gasp had echoed through the folk, and I heard later that no few of
them had looked to see me fall stricken.
So around the Council lodge ran the same whisper and was gone
instantly. I wondered what sacrilege The Keeper had uttered, and
stared at Uchichak as he gravely rose, took up the calumet, lit it,
and waved it to the four corners of the heavens. Then he replaced it
and turned toward me.
"My brother Ta-cha-noon-tia is our friend. His words are the words
of a friend. He is a great warrior and an old man, and his Great
Spirit is very strong. But it is not our Great Spirit who whispers
in his ear, and we are afraid. I will tell my brothers of our Great
Spirit."
With a single stride he went to the door and flung open the flap
dramatically. Before us in the sky flamed the northern
lights--grotesque sheeted figures of lambent flame, dancing here and
yon, rising, falling, many-colored.
"The Spirits of the Dead who Dance," he affirmed, in a single Cree
word. "My brothers the Great Spirit of our fathers is mighty. This
is his sign to his children. When we have passed the last trail, we
too shall join our fathers in the Spirit-dance across the heavens.
This is the sign that our Great Spirit has given us. And now I shall
tell you of the Mystery."
I would have sprung up and made ready answer, but a hand gripped my
arm and I found Radisson behind me. I remembered that Indian ways
were not our ways, and that when Uchichak had finished I could speak,
and not until then.
"My brothers, our Great Spirit, from the days of our fathers, has
sent us a messenger. Sometimes it is a man, sometimes it is an
animal." His voice lowered almost to a whisper, and the hush was
intense. "My brothers, it is more than an animal, more than a little
brother of the forest. We who are chiefs, we of the Council, know
that this messenger is none other than the Great Spirit himself, who
comes to watch over his children."
For an instant there was dead silence, Uchichak standing with bowed
head. Only the sound of heavy breathing filled the lodge until he
continued more firmly.
"My brothers, when I was very young the messenger was a White Beaver,
larger and more cunning than ever beaver was before him. When I was
a young man the Mighty One had vanished, and in his place was another
Mighty One. How did we know this? I will tell you.
"One of our young men brought the news that in the Barren Places was
a mighty moose, larger than any moose ever seen. He had followed the
tracks, and had come to a bear, slain by the moose. There were three
young men in the village who said they would hunt this moose. Our
old men warned them, saying that the young man had been led to the
bear in token that the moose wished us well. Perhaps he was a Mighty
One. But the young men refused to listen and went forth with their
dogs.
"My brothers, you have heard the tale of Spotted Lynx, Two Horns and
Yellow Cloud. They hunted for many weeks. The Mighty One did not
wish to harm them. But at last they found him feeding, and wounded
him. My brothers, are any of those young men among you? Have you
seen their faces in the lodges of their people? Have they returned
to their fathers?"
A single half-suppressed groan broke from one of the old men. There
was no doubt that the tale was true. I reflected that if three
hunters, armed with bow and spear, had gone out against that terrible
moose, there might well have been small chance of their returning
safe. But The Crane did not pause long.
"We have heard how the hunters of the Chippewa nation have sought
him, and have fled home like women to their people. Our fathers have
told us how, when they were little children, the Great Spirit had
whispered to them that the Crees should not seek to hunt the Mighty
One, and should not seek to hunt in the hills of the Barren Places.
It is in these hills that the Mighty One now dwells, and the
Chippewas fear them also.
"Sometimes the Mighty One travels far. My brothers, you have heard
how Brave Eyes met him. You have seen that he favored Brave Eyes and
did not kill him, but sent him to be our brother. The heart of Brave
Eyes is very strong. We know that it holds no fear. Now that he
knows who the Mighty One is whose horns he felt, now that he knows it
was our Great Spirit himself, Brave Eyes will not fear to say that he
was wrong."
Uchichak drew his furs about him and resumed his seat. The eyes of
the Council, one by one, were slowly turned on me. But not until I
felt Radisson's hand relax on my arm did I rise to speak.
"My brothers," I said with some difficulty, "I speak in a strange
tongue. I can find no words in it to say that I did not speak to you
rightly before. The Crane has told me that the Spirits of the Dead
who Dance are signs from your Great Spirit. How is it, then, that
the same signs have come to me and my brother the White Eagle and to
my sister the Yellow Lily, very far from here. How is it that this
sign comes to my white brothers also?"
There was a little stir at this, and I heard the Keeper grunt in
appreciation.
"Listen, my brothers. I have told you of the sign in the water,
which the Great Spirit has sent to his white children, through his
own Son. I wish you to remember this, and it may be that you will
accept this sign. As to your Mighty One, he is not a Messenger sent
by the Great Spirit; he is a messenger of the Evil Spirit."
I had looked for another stir at these words, but none came.
Instead, there was silence--the silence of apprehension, of waiting.
"My brothers, you do not like my words, but your hearts are open.
Your ears are not closed to the whisper of the Great Spirit, and you
will listen. If the Mighty One was your friend and protector, would
he have slain your young men? Would he not have sent them home as he
has sent the other hunters, like foolish women?"
I paused again, taking full advantage of this favorite trick of
Indian Oratory.
"Listen, my brothers. My Great Spirit whispers to me. He says that
your Mighty One is false. He says that there is only one Great
Spirit, and that He wishes you to accept the sign in the water. He
says that it is for this purpose He brought me to you. He asks you
whether you will accept this sign that you believe in Him."
With this rather abrupt close I sat down. There was a long silence
as they turned over my words carefully, slowly, weighing each one.
Finally the old wizened head-chief, whose single eagle-feather
gleamed oddly in the red light, answered me.
"My brother, you have spoken well. Your words have satisfied the
thirst of the warriors, as the spring that bubbles in the forest.
Yet we were afraid at them, for we feared that our Great Spirit would
be angry.
"You have said that the sign of the Spirits of the Dead has been sent
to you also. That is well. The Great Spirit has whispered to me.
He whispered in my ear that you, my brother, and my brother White
Eagle also, should prove to us that the Mighty One is a messenger of
the Evil Spirit. You have told us how your Great Spirit sent His Son
to you, and how you killed Him. We would not have treated Him thus,
my brother. Our ears are open. We would have feasted Him with
venison and listened to Him.
"The Great Spirit has whispered to me that you should seek the Mighty
One. We know that there is no fear in your heart, and that the White
Eagle is very wise and good. Perhaps the Great Spirit will help you.
If you slay the Mighty One we will know that we have been wrong, and
that our fathers have been wrong, and we will accept the sign in the
water."
Weak and shaking, the old man sat down and covered his face. One by
one the chiefs stood up and spoke in the same vein. One by one they
agreed that if Radisson and I should slay the Moose, they would
accept the "sign in the water," for thus only could I represent the
symbol of baptism to them. Uchichak made a splendid speech, and I
was right glad to find here in the wilderness men whose minds were so
open, so free to conviction. Their beliefs were simple and earnest,
and while there was small hope that they would or could accept the
gospel of peace, merely to bring them to a knowledge of the True God
would be a tremendous conquest.
So the Council ended. Radisson accompanied me to the lodge of Ruth,
where we told her all that had taken place, and of the gage of battle
which had been flung before us. That it would be accepted by
Radisson I had no doubt.
"Aye, lad," he said in answer to my eager question, "I may hold to no
faith over-much, but in this matter I am with you--if only for the
sake of little Ruth here."
"Not that!" she flashed out at him quickly. "Pray, Uncle Pierre,
have you no deeper thought than this? Look deep down in your heart,
and say no if you dare!"
Radisson looked down at her, then at me, and in his weary eyes I saw
what I had but seldom found in his face. In that moment I knew that
even from us he had kept his real self hidden.
"Yes, child," he replied softly. "I hesitated to acknowledge it, but
it is true. I may not be of your faith, but I will do this thing for
the sake of Him who suffered for us all, and in the trust that
through us these poor, faithful friends of ours may be given a light
to lighten their darkness."
Wherewith he rose and left us suddenly, nor did he ever allude to
that conversation again, until the day he left us. But Ruth and I
sat silent for a little space, wondering.
"It is a fearsome thing," I murmured at last, "how this superstition
has laid hold on such men as Uchichak. Why, the Mighty One is no
more than a beast--cunning, merciless, but still a beast. With such
men as Radisson and the Mohawks with me, what is there to fear?"
"Softly, Davie," smiled Ruth a little sadly. "It is not so easy as
may seem to you. Did ever an easy thing accomplish aught in the
world? It is the things we fight for and suffer for that are worth
while, that bring the Word to the world. It was never God's way to
make the path easy for those who bear His Word."
I wondered at her not a little. There was a light in her sweet face
that I had never seen before, and something in her manner smote me to
the heart, so that I bade her good-night and left her to sleep.
And ever since that night I have thought that Ruth spoke not of
herself, for her words were fraught with prophecy.
For the next few days the four of us were very busy. We decided that
if the work must be done it should be done at once, and we made ready
without delay. I think Radisson, despite his words of that night,
was eager to be off and away into the westing lands where no man had
been, for it was ever his wont to seek beyond the known things.
The Crees were ready enough to help us with all that we asked.
Uchichak it was who gave us his dogs and sled, whereon we loaded food
and our fusils, with what store of powder and ball we had. It was
settled that after the next heavy fall of snow we should set forth,
and by the signs of the country the Crees declared that a storm was
not far off.
Indeed, it came within the week--two days of heavy, drifting snow and
high wind. And when it came we knew that ere long we would be parted
from our little lass. But the manner of that parting, and the ending
of it, was in no wise what we had looked forward to.