It was broad daylight when we once again drew rein, and then we were all
so overcome with sleep and exhaustion, after the prolonged watching and
excitement of the night, that we could scarcely sit on our horses.
Eve, who sat behind me, grasping my waist with both arms, swayed so
heavily once or twice, as nearly to throw me down.
"We _must_ stop," said I to Big Otter, who was close beside me.
"Yes," replied the Indian; but his tone told that he was barely awake.
"If you doosn't me _drop_," said Salamander. The worthy interpreter
seemed to think English the easiest language in the circumstances.
"Oh! I'm _so_ sleepy," said poor Eve, whose grief helped to increase
her exhaustion.
"Come, we will camp in this thicket!" said Big Otter, turning his horse
in the direction of a long strip of bush that lay a few hundred yards to
our right.
On reaching it, we penetrated, almost mechanically, to the thickest part
of it, dismounted, and fastened our horses to the trees. Turning
instantly, to assist Eve in making a couch of leaves, I found that she
had lain down where she had dismounted, and was already fast asleep.
"Here, Salamander, lend a hand to lift her," I said, looking round; but
Salamander was also in the land of Nod, flat on his back, with his eyes
shut, and his mouth open.
Turning to Big Otter, I found that he was standing staring at me with an
expression of such awful solemnity that I was partially roused with a
feeling of alarm.
"Hallo!" I exclaimed, "what has happened?--speak, man!"
But Big Otter only gazed more intensely than ever, swayed slightly to
and fro, and gave a sort of wink, or rather a slap together of both
eyes. Then I understood that the wretched man was only glaring like an
owl in the sunshine, in his tremendous efforts to keep awake. He
assisted me, however, to lift Eve to a more comfortable position, and
while he was in the act of laying her fair head gently on a pillow of
moss, I observed that he sank down and instantly fell into a profound
slumber; but even in that hour of mingled danger and exhaustion, the
Indian did not neglect to hold his gun to his breast with a firm grasp.
I also had enough wit left to keep my double-barrel in my hand, and was
in the act of examining the locks, seated at Eve's feet, where my own
senses forsook me.
We lay there, perfectly silent and motionless, during the whole of that
day, for it was not until the sun was descending towards the western
horizon that we awoke. I happened to be the first to move. Rising
softly, so as not to disturb the others, I went to search for water, and
was fortunate enough to find a small pool, which, though not very clear,
was nevertheless sufficiently good to slake our thirst. Sitting down
beside the pool, I lifted my heart and voice in thanksgiving to God for
having thus far delivered and guided us.
While thus engaged a slight rustling in the bushes caused me to spring
up. It was caused by Big Otter, who had followed me.
"What does the pale-face think?" he asked, sitting down beside me.
"He thinks that the Great Master of Life has delivered us from our
enemies. He is good," said I, being still influenced by the devotional
feeling which had been broken in upon.
For a few moments the Indian did not reply, but continued to look
thoughtfully at the ground. At length he spoke.
"Was the Great Master of Life good when He let Waboose's mother die in
the midst of war and weakness? Was He good to Waboose when He left her
fatherless and motherless?"
"Yes, He was good," I answered, confidently. "He took the mother of
Waboose home to dwell with Himself and with her father Weeum. And men
and women, you know, cannot be taken to the happy land without leaving
their children behind them--fatherless and motherless."
Big Otter did not reply, but I saw by his grave look that he was not
satisfied. After a brief pause he resumed,--"Was the Great Master of
Life good to the wicked pale-faces, when He allowed the red-men to slay
them in their sins?"
"Yes," I returned, "He was good, because the Great Master of Life cannot
be otherwise than good. He has made our brains capable of understanding
that, and our hearts capable of resting on it. But He is our Father.
Children do not understand all that a father does. Big Otter has
touched on a great mystery. But what we know not now we shall know
hereafter. Only let the red-man be sure of this, that whatever we come
to know in the hereafter will tend more and more to prove that the Great
Master of Life is good."
For a long time the Indian remained silent, and I could not tell by the
expression of his grave face whether my reasoning weighed with him or
not; I therefore offered up a brief prayer that the Spirit of God might
open his eyes--as well as my own--to see, and our hearts to receive, the
_truth_, whatever that might be. Then I said,--"The thoughts of Big
Otter are deep, what do they lead to?"
"No," he replied, "his thoughts are not deep, but they are confused, for
he has heard his pale-face brother call Waboose, Eve. How did he come
to know that name? It was only used by Weeum, and seldom by him--never
by any one else."
It struck me that now was as suitable a time as might present itself to
let the Indian know about the contents of the packet, so I
said,--"Listen, Big Otter, I have something important to tell."
From this point I went on, and, in as few words as possible, related all
that the reader knows about the packet, and the wishes of poor William
Liston. I also showed him the miniature, at which he gazed with visible
but suppressed emotion.
"Now," said I, in conclusion, "what do you think we should do?"
"What Weeum wished must be done," he replied simply but firmly.
"You were fond of Weeum?" I said.
"Yes, Big Otter loved him like a brother."
"Don't you think," said I, after some minutes' thought, "that it is our
duty first to return to the camp of your tribe, and also that I should
send Salamander back to Fort Wichikagan to tell where I have gone, and
for what purpose? For Salamander is not free like myself. He is still
a servant of the fur-traders."
"No, that is not your duty," said the Indian decidedly. "Your duty is
to obey the commands of Weeum! My tribe will not die of grief because
Waboose does not return. As for Salamander--send him where you please.
He is nobody--nothing!"
Although not quite agreeing with Big Otter in his contemptuous estimate
of the value of Salamander, I believed that I could get along quite well
without him; and therefore resolved to send him back--first to the
Indian camp to tell of our safety and intentions, and then to the fort
with an explanatory letter to Lumley, who, I knew full well, would be
filled with great anxiety on my account, as well as with uncertainty as
to how he should act, destitute as he was of the slightest clue to my
fate or my whereabouts.
"And you, my friend," I said, "what will your movements be?"
"Big Otter will go and help you to obey the commands of Weeum," he
replied. "There is no wife, no child, waiting for him to return. He
must be a father to Waboose. Muxbee will _be_ her brother. The trail
to Colorado is long. Big Otter has been there. He has been a solitary
wanderer all his life, and knows the wilderness well. He has crossed
the great mountains where the snow lies deep even in summer. He can be
a guide, and knows many of the mountain tribes as well as the tribes of
the prairie--Waugh!"
"Well, my friend," said I, grasping the Indian's strong hand, "I need
not tell you that your decision gives me joy, and I shall be only too
glad to travel with you in the capacity of a son; for, you know, if you
are to be a father to Waboose, and I am to be her brother, that makes
you my father--don't you see?"
The grave Indian smiled faintly at this touch of pleasantry, and then
rose.
"We have nothing to eat," he said, as we returned to the place where we
had slept, "and we cannot hunt in the night. Is your bag empty?"
"No," said I, glancing at the contents of my wallet, "there is enough of
biscuit and pemmican to give us a light meal."
"That will do," he returned; "we need rest more than food just now."
This was indeed true; for, notwithstanding that I had slept so soundly
during that day, I still felt a strong disinclination to rouse myself to
action, and an intense desire to lie down again. These feelings being
shared by my companions, it was resolved to spend the night where we
were, but we took good care to kindle no fire to betray us a second
time. We roused Eve and Salamander to take some food, after which we
all lay down, and, ere long, were again sound asleep.
This double allowance of rest had the most beneficial effect upon our
frames. We did not awake till an early hour the following morning, and
felt so much refreshed as to be ready and anxious to set off on our
journey, without the delay of breakfasting. This was fortunate, for the
scraps that remained in my wallet would only have sufficed for one meal
to a man of ordinary appetite; and, as it was important to expedite
Salamander on his return journey, these had to be given to him. Poor
fellow! he was much cast down on hearing of my decision in regard to
him.
"But, sar," he said, with a sorrowful countenance, "w'at for I no go
vith you?"
"Because you are still a servant of the Fur Company, and not entitled to
break your engagement. Besides, it is desirable that Big Otter's people
should know why he and Waboose have left them, and where they have gone;
and if you explain matters correctly they will be quite satisfied, for
they all respect the memory of Weeum the Good. Moreover, it is
important that Mr Lumley should know what has prevented my return, both
to relieve his mind, and prevent his sending out to search for me."
"But sar," objected Salamander, "w'at if me meets vid de vite
scoundrils?"
"You must fight them, or run away from them."
"Vell, me kin fight but me kin more joyfulerly run avay. But," he
continued, still objecting, "me got no grub."
"Here is enough for one day," I said, giving him all I possessed, "if
you spin it out. To-morrow you can roast and eat your moccasins, and
the third day you can starve. Surely that's not hard on a strong young
fellow like you; and if you push on fast enough you'll reach the camp of
the redskins early on the third day."
Salamander sighed, but made no further objection, and half an hour later
he left us.
As we now possessed only two horses, it naturally fell to my lot, being
a light weight compared with Big Otter, to take Eve up behind me.
"We must get a horse for Waboose," said the Indian, as we galloped over
the prairie that day. "There is a tribe of Blackfoot Indians not far
from here who have good horses, and understand the value of gold, for
some of them have been to the settlements of the pale-faces. You tell
me that you have gold?"
"Yes, I found a bag of five hundred gold pieces with the diamonds in
Weeum's packet."
Big Otter looked at me inquiringly, but did not speak, yet I guessed his
thoughts; for, though I had shown him Liston's letter and the miniature,
I had not shown him the gold or the jewels, and he must have wondered
where I carried them; for he knew, of course, that they were necessarily
somewhat bulky and were not in my wallet, which I had emptied more than
once in his presence. I therefore explained to him:--
"You know, perhaps, that gold is heavy, and five hundred pieces are
bulky and troublesome to carry; so I have had a piece of cloth made with
a hole in the middle of it for my head to go through; one end of it
hangs over my breast under my shirt, like a breastplate, and one end
hangs over my back, and on each of these plates there are rows of little
pockets, each pocket the size of a gold piece. Thus, you see, the gold
does not feel heavy, being equally distributed, and it does not show, as
it would if carried in a heap--besides, it forms a sort of armour--
though I fear it would not resist a rifle-bullet!"
"Waugh!" exclaimed Big Otter, with an intelligent look.
"As to the diamonds, they are not bulky. I have concealed them in an
under-belt round my waist."
As Big Otter had predicted, we came to a large village of Blackfoot
Indians two days afterwards, and were received with cordial friendship
by the inhabitants, who knew my Indian well. He had visited them during
his wanderings many a time, and once, at a very critical period in their
history, had rendered important service to the tribe, besides saving the
life of their chief.
A new tent was set aside for our use, and a small one pitched close to
it for Waboose, whose dignified yet modest bearing made a profound
impression on those children of the wilderness. They recognised, no
doubt that Indian blood flowed in her veins, but that rather increased
their respect for her, as it gave them, so to speak, a right to claim
kinship with a girl who was obviously one of Nature's aristocracy,
besides possessing much of that refinement which the red-men had come to
recognise as a characteristic of some of the best of the pale-faces.
Indeed, I myself found, now that I had frequent opportunities of
conversing with Eve Liston, that the man who had been affectionately
styled Weeum the Good by the Indians, had stored his child's mind with
much varied secular knowledge, such as Indians never possess, besides
instilling into her the elevating and refining precepts of Christianity.
Being of a poetical turn of mind, he had also repeated to Eve many long
and beautiful pieces from our best poets, so that on more than one
occasion the girl had aptly quoted several well-known passages--to my
inexpressible amazement.
"I wonder," said I, when we three were seated in our tent that night,
refreshing ourselves with a choice morsel of baked buffalo-hump, with
which the hospitable Blackfeet had supplied us, "how it comes to pass
that Indians, who are usually rather fond of gifts, absolutely refuse to
accept anything for the fine horse they have given to Waboose?"
"Perhaps," said Eve, with a little smile, in which the extreme corners
of her pretty mouth had the peculiar tendency to turn down instead of
up--"perhaps it is because they are grateful. Indians are not
altogether destitute of that feeling."
"True, Eve, true; it must be that. Will you tell us, Big Otter, how you
managed to make these fellows so grateful?"
"I saved the chief's life," returned the Indian, curtly.
"Yes; but how, and when?"
"Four summers have passed since then. I was returning from a trip to
the Rocky Mountains when it happened. Many bad pale-faces were in the
mountains at that time. They were idle bad men from many lands, who
hated work and loved to fight. One of them had been killed by a Sioux
Indian. They all banded together and swore that they would shoot every
Indian they came across. They killed many--some even who were friendly
to the white men. They did not ask to what tribe they belonged. They
were `redskin varmints,' that was enough!
"The Strong Elk, whose hospitality we enjoy to-night, was chief of the
Blackfeet. I was on my way to visit him, when, one evening, I came upon
the camp of the pale-faces. I knew that sometimes they were not
friendly to the red-man, so I waited till dark, and then crept forward
and listened. Their chief was loud-voiced and boastful. He boasted of
how many Indians he had killed. I could have shot him where I lay and
then escaped easily, but I spared him, for I wished to listen. They
talked much of the Strong Elk. I understood very little. The language
of the pale-face is difficult to understand, but I came to know that in
two hours, when the moon should sink, they would attack him.
"I waited to hear no more. I ran like the hunted buffalo. I came to
Strong Elk and told him. It was too late to move the camp, but we put
it in a state of defence. When the pale-faces came, we were ready.
Arrows, thick as the snowflakes in winter, met them when they came on,
and many of them bit the dust. Some ran away. Some, who were brave,
still came on and leaped our barricades. They fought like fiends.
Their boastful chief saw Strong Elk and rushed at him. They grappled
and fell. The pale-face had a keen knife. It was raised to strike.
One moment more, and the Blackfoot chief had been in the happy
hunting-grounds with his fathers, when the gun of Big Otter came down on
the skull of the boastful one. It was enough. Strong Elk was saved--
and he is grateful; waugh!"
"Well, he has reason to be!" said I, much impressed by the modest way in
which the story was told. "And now," I added, "since we have got a
capital horse, and the journey before us is long, don't you think we
should start to-morrow!"
"Yes, to-morrow--and it is time for Waboose to rest. She is strong, but
she has had much to weary her, and her grief is deep."
With a kindly acknowledgment of the Indian's thoughtful care of her, Eve
rose and went to her tent. Big Otter lighted his pipe, and I lay down
to meditate; but almost before I had time to think, my head drooped and
I was in the land of forgetfulness.
It is not my purpose, good reader, to carry you step by step over the
long, varied, and somewhat painful journey that intervened between us
and Colorado at that time. It was interesting--deeply so--for we passed
through some of the most beautiful as well as wildest scenery of the
North American wilderness. We kept far to the westward, near the base
of the Rocky Mountains, so as to avoid the haunts of civilised men. But
space will not permit of more than a brief reference to this long
journey.
I can only say that on arriving at a village belonging to a remote tribe
of Indians, who were well-known to my guide, it was arranged that Big
Otter and Waboose should stay with them, while I should go to the cities
of the pale-faces and endeavour to convert my diamonds into cash.
Happening to have a friend in Chicago I went there, and through his
agency effected the sale of the diamonds, which produced a little over
the sum mentioned by William Liston in his paper. This I took with me
in the convenient form of bills on well-known mercantile firms, in the
region to which I was bound, and, having wrapped them in a piece of
oiled silk and sewed them inside of the breastplate that contained my
gold, I set off with a light heart, though somewhat weighted shoulders,
to return to my friends in the Far West.