THE INDIAN VILLAGE.
Now that the exigencies of our story compel us to enter into closer
relations with the Prairie Indians, we will introduce to the reader
the primitive population of that territory, generally called Blackfoot
Indians. The Blackfeet formed, at the period when this history
occurred, a powerful nation, divided into three tribes, speaking the
same language. First, the tribe of the Siksekai, or Blackfeet proper;
next, the Kenhas, or Blood Indians; and lastly, the Piékanns. This
nation, when the three tribes were united, could bring under arms
nearly eight thousand warriors, which enables us to estimate the
population at twenty-five thousand souls. But, at the present day,
smallpox has decimated these Indians, and reduced them to a very much
smaller number. The Blackfeet traverse the prairies adjoining the Rocky
Mountains, sometimes even scaling those mountains between the three
forks of the Missouri, called Gallatin, Jefferson, and Madison rivers.
The Piékanns, however, go as far as Marine river, to trade with the
American Fur Company; they also barter with the Hudson's Bay Society,
and even with the Mexicans of Santa Fé. This nation, continually at
war with the whites, whom they attack whenever they have the chance,
are very little known, but greatly feared, especially for their skill
in stealing horses, and, more than that, for their notorious cruelty
and bad faith. As we have to deal principally with the Kenhas, we will
occupy ourselves more particularly with that tribe. The following is
the origin of the name "Blood Indians," given to the Kenhas:--
Before the Blackfeet were divided, they happened one day to be encamped
a short distance from seven or eight tents of the Sassi Indians. A
quarrel arose between them about a woman carried off by the Sassis,
in spite of the opposition of the Piékanns, and the Kenhas resolved
to kill all their neighbours, a project which they carried out with
extraordinary ferocity and cruelty. In the middle of the night they
attacked the tents of the Sassis, and massacred them all during their
sleep, without sparing even women, children, or old men; they scalped
their victims, and regained their tents, after daubing their faces and
hands with blood.
The Piékanns reproached them for this act of barbarity; a quarrel
ensued, which speedily degenerated into a combat, in consequence of
which the three Blackfoot tribes separated. The Kenhas then received
the name of Blood Indians, which they still retain, and feel a pride
in it, saying that no one insults them with impunity. The Kenhas are
the most active and indomitable of the Blackfeet: they have always
displayed more sanguinary and rapacious instincts than the other
members of their nation, especially than the Piékanns, who are justly
regarded as comparatively gentle and humane.
As the three Blackfoot tribes generally live far apart, Natah Otann
must have acted with great skill, and displayed great patience, ere
he succeeded in making them join, and consent to march under the same
banner. At every moment he was constrained to employ all the resources
suggested by his fertile mind, and evince great diplomacy, in order to
prevent a rupture, which was always imminent between these men, whom
no tie attached, and whose pride revolted at the least appearance of
humiliation.
After the events which occurred at the pioneer's camp, Natah Otann
resolved to lead the Count de Beaulieu and his comrades to the chief
summer village of the Kenhas, situated at no great distance from Fort
Mackenzie, one of the principal depôts of the American Fur Company.
The Kenhas had constructed this village only a year previously, and
their vicinity at first alarmed the Americans; but the conduct of
the Indians had ever been so loyal--apparently, at least, in their
transactions with the white men--that the latter, at length, did not
trouble themselves about their Redskin neighbours, except to buy their
furs, sell them whisky, and visit their village when they wanted some
amusement.
After selling Black an immense territory for a dollar, Natah Otann
reminded the young man of his promise to visit his tribe, and the
Count, though secretly vexed at the obligation he Was under of
accepting an invitation which bore a great likeness to a command,
still yielded, and followed the chief, after bidding farewell to the
pioneers. Black, with his hand resting on the trigger of his rifle,
looked after the Kenha horsemen, who, according to their custom,
galloped across the prairie, when a rider turned back, and came up
to the American's camp. The pioneer recognised, with some surprise,
Bright-eye, who stopped before him.
"Have you forgotten anything?" the pioneer asked him.
"Yes," the hunter answered.
"What?"
"To say a word to you."
"Ah!" the other said, in surprise. "Go ahead, then."
"I have no time to lose; answer me as plainly as I question you."
"Very good! speak."
"Are you grateful for what the Count has done for you?"
"More than I can express."
"In case of need, what would you do for him?"
"Everything."
"Hum! that is a heavy pledge."
"It is even less than I would do; my family, my servants, all I
possess, are at his disposal."
"Then you are devoted to him?"
"For life and death! Under any circumstances, by day or night; whatever
may happen, at a word from him I am ready."
"You swear it?"
"I swear it."
"I hold your promise."
"I will keep it."
"I expect so. Good bye."
"Are you off already?"
"I must rejoin my companions."
"Then you have some suspicions about your Red friend?"
"You must always be on your guard with Indians," the hunter said,
sententiously.
"Then you are taking a precaution?"
"Perhaps."
"In any event, count on me."
"Thanks, and good bye."
"Good bye."
The two men parted; they understood each other.
"By heaven!" the pioneer muttered, as he threw his rifle over his
shoulder, and returned to the camp; "I would not be the Indian to touch
a hair of the head of a man to whom I owe so much."
The Indians had stopped on the bank of a stream, which they were about
to ford, when Bright-eye rejoined them. Natah Otann, busy talking with
the Count, threw a side glance at the hunter, but did not say a word to
him.
"Yes," the latter muttered, with a crafty smile, "my absence has
bothered you, my fine fellow; you would like to know why I turned
back so suddenly; but, unluckily, I am not disposed to satisfy your
curiosity."
When the ford was crossed, the Canadian took his post by the
Frenchman's side, and, by his presence, prevented the Indian chief
renewing his conversation with the Count. An hour passed, and not a
word was exchanged. Natah Otann, wearied with the hunter's obstinacy,
and not knowing how to make him retire, resolved at last to give up to
him: and, digging his spurs into his horse's flank, galloped forward,
leaving the two white men together. The hunter watched him depart, with
that caustic laugh which was one of the characteristics of his face.
"Poor horse!" he said, sarcastically, "he must suffer for his master's
ill temper."
"What ill temper do you mean?" the Count said, absently.
"Why, the chief's, who is flying along over there in a cloud of dust."
"You do not seem to have any sympathy for each other."
"Indeed, we are as friendly as the grizzly bear and the jaguar."
"Which means?--"
"That we have measured our claws; and, as we find them at present of
the same strength and length, so we stand on the defensive."
"Do you feel any malice against him?"
"I? not the least in the world. I do not fear him more than he does
me; we are only distrustful because we know each other."
"Oh, oh!" the young man said, with a laugh; "that conceals, I can see,
something serious."
Bright-eye frowned, and took a scrutinizing glance around. The Indians
were galloping on about twenty paces in the rear; Ivon alone, though
keeping at a respectful distance, could hear the conversation between
the two men. Bright-eye leant over to the Count, laid his hand on the
pommel of his saddle, and said, in a low voice--"I do not like tigers
covered with a fox's skin; each ought to follow the instincts of his
nature, and not try to assume others that are fictitious."
"I must confess, my good fellow," the young man replied, "that you are
speaking in enigmas, and I cannot understand you at all."
"Patience!" the hunter said, tossing his head; "I will be clear."
"My faith! that will delight me, Bright-eye," the young man said, with
a smile; "for ever since we have again met the Indian chief, you have
affected an air of mystery, which bothers me so, that I should be
charmed to comprehend you for once."
"Good! What do you think of Natah Otann
"Ah! that is where you are galled still!"
"Yes."
"Well, I will reply that this man appears to me extraordinary; there is
something strange about him, which I cannot understand. In the first
place, is he an Indian?"
"Yes."
"But he has travelled; he has been in white society; he has been in the
interior of the United States?"
The hunter shook his head. "No," he said, "he has never left his tribe."
"Yet--"
"Yet," Bright-eye quickly interrupted him, "he speaks English, French
and Spanish, as well as yourself, and perhaps better than I do, eh?
Before his warriors he feigns profound ignorance; like them, he
trembles at the sight of one of the results of civilization--a watch,
a musical box, or even a lucifer match, eh?"
"It is true."
"Then, when he finds himself with certain persons, like yourself, for
instance, sir, the Indian suddenly disappears, the savage vanishes,
and you find yourself in the presence of a man whose acquirements
are almost equal to your own, and who confounds you by his thorough
knowledge."
"That is true."
"Ah, ah! Well, as you consider that extraordinary as I do, you will
take your precautions, Mr. Edward."
"What have I to fear from him?"
"I do not know yet; but be at your ease; I shall soon know. He is
sharp, but I am not such a fool as he fancies, and am watching him.
For a long time this man has been playing a game, about which I have
hitherto troubled myself but little; now that he has drawn us into it,
he must be on his guard."
"But where did he learn all he knows?"
"Ah! that is a story too long to tell you at present; but you shall
hear it someday; suffice it to say, that in his tribe there is an old
chief called the White Buffalo; he is a European, and he it was who
educated the Grizzly Bear."
"Ah!"
"Is not that singular! a European of immense learning; a man who, in
his own country, must have held a high rank, and who thus becomes, of
his own accord, chief of the savages?"
"Indeed, it is most extraordinary. Do you know this man?"
"I have often seen him; he is very aged now; his beard and hair are
white; he is tall and majestic; his face is fine, his look profound;
there is something about him grand and imposing, which attracts you
against your will. Grizzly Bear holds him in great veneration, and
obeys him as if he were his son."
"Who can this man be?"
"No one knows. I am convinced that the Grizzly Bear shares the general
ignorance on this head."
"But how did he join the tribe?"
"It is not known."
"He must have been long with it."
"I told you so; he educated the Grizzly Bear, and made a European of
him instead of an Indian."
"All that is really strange," the Count murmured, having suddenly grown
pensive.
"Is it not so? But that is not all yet; you are entering a world you
do not know, accident throws you among interests you are unacquainted
with; take care; weigh well your words, calculate your slightest
gesture, Mr. Edward; for the Indians are very clever; the man you have
to deal with is cleverer than all of them, as he combines with Redskin
craft that European intelligence and corruption with which his teacher
has inculcated him. Natah Otann is a man with an incalculable depth of
calculation; his thoughts are an abyss; he must be revolving sinister
schemes; take care; his pressing you to promise a visit to his village;
his generosity to the American squatter, the secret protection with
which he surrounds you, while being the first to pretend to take you
for a superior being; all this makes me believe that he wishes to lead
you unconsciously into some dark enterprise, which will prove your
destruction. Believe me, Mr. Edward, beware of this man."
"Thanks, my friend, I will watch," the Count said, pressing the
Canadian's honest hand.
"You will watch," the latter said; "but do you know the way to do it?"
"I confess--"
"Listen to me," the hunter interrupted him; "you must first--"
"Here is the chief," the young man exclaimed.
"Confusion!" Bright-eye growled. "Why could he not stop a few minutes
longer? I am sure that red devil has some familiar spirit to warn him;
but no matter, I have told you enough to prevent your being trapped by
false friendliness; besides, I shall be there to support you."
"Thanks. When the time comes--"
"I will warn you; but it is urgent that you should now compose your
countenance, and pretend to know nothing."
"Good; that's settled; here is our man. Silence."
"On the contrary, let us talk; silence is ever interpreted either well
or ill, but generally in the latter sense. Be careful to reply in the
sense of my questions."
"I will try."
"Here is our man. Let us cheat the cheater."
After casting a cunning glance at the chief, who was only a few paces
off at the moment, he continued aloud, and changing his tone,--
"What you ask, Mr. Edward, is most simple. I am certain that the chief
will be happy to procure you that pleasure."
"Do you think so?" the young man asked, not knowing what the hunter was
alluding to.
Bright-eye turned to Natah Otann, who arrived at the moment, and rode
silently by their side, though he had heard the two men's last remarks.
"My companion," he said to the chief, "has heard a great deal of, and
longs to see, a caribou hunt. I have offered him in your name, chief,
one of those magnificent battues, of which you Redskins have reserved
the scent."
"Natah Otann will be happy to satisfy his guest," the sachem replied,
bowing with Indian gravity.
The Count thanked him.
"We are approaching the village of my tribe," the chief continued; "we
shall be there in an hour; the Palefaces will see how I receive my
friends."
The Blackfeet, who had hitherto galloped without order, gradually grew
together, and formed a compact squadron round their chief. The little
party continued to advance, approaching more and more the Missouri,
which rolled on majestically between two high banks, covered with osier
beds, whence, on the approach of the horsemen, startled flocks of pink
flamingoes rose in alarm. On reaching a spot where the path formed
a bend, the Indians stopped, and prepared their weapons as if for a
fight; some taking their guns out of their leathern cases, and loading
them; others preparing their bows and javelins.
"Are the fellows afraid of an attack?" the Count asked Bright-eye.
"Not the least in the world," the latter answered; "they are only a
few minutes' ride from their village, into which they wish to enter in
triumph, in order to do you honour."
"Come, come!" the young man said; "all this is charming; I did not
expect, on coming to the prairies, to be present at such singular
scenes."
"You have seen nothing yet," the hunter said, ironically: "wait, we are
only at the beginning."
"All the better," the Count answered, joyfully.
Natah Otann made a sign, and the warriors closed up again at the same
moment; although no one was visible, a noise of conchs, drums, and
chichikouès was heard a short distance off. The warriors uttered their
war yell, and replied by raising to their lips their war whistles.
Natah Otann then placed himself at the head of the party, having the
Count on his right, the hunter and Ivon on his left; and, turning
towards his men, he brandished his weapon several times over his head,
uttering two or three shrill whistles. At this signal the whole troop
rushed forward, and turned the corner like an avalanche.
The Frenchman then witnessed a strange scene, which was not without a
certain amount of savage grandeur, A troop of warriors from the village
came up, like a tornado, to meet the newcomers, shouting, howling,
brandishing their arms, and firing their guns. The two parties charged
each other with extraordinary fury and at full speed; but when scarce
ten yards apart, the horses stopped, as if of their own impulse, and
began dancing, curvetting, and performing all the most difficult
tricks of the riding school. After these manoeuvres had lasted a
few moments, the two bands formed a semicircle opposite each other,
leaving a free space between them, in which the chiefs collected.
The presentations then began. Natah Otann made a long harangue to
the chiefs, in which he gave them an account of his expedition, and
the result he had obtained. The sachems listened to it with thorough
Indian decorum. When he spoke to them of his meeting with the white
men, and what had occurred, they bowed silently, without replying; but
one chief, of venerable aspect, who seemed older than the rest, and
appeared to be treated with great consideration by his companions,
turned a profound and inquiring glance at the Count, when Natah Otann
spoke of him. The young man, troubled, in spite of himself, by the
fixed glance, stooped down to Bright-eye's ear, and asked him, in a low
voice, who the man was.
"That is White Buffalo," the hunter answered, "the European I spoke to
you about."
"Ah, ah!" the Count said, regarding him, in his turn, attentively; "I
do not know why, but I believe I shall have a serious row with that
gentleman before I have done."
The White Buffalo then took the word.
"My brothers are welcome," he said; "their return to the tribe is a
festival; they are intrepid warriors; we are happy at hearing the way
in which they have performed the duties entrusted to them." Then he
turned to the white men, and, after bowing to them, continued,--"The
Kenhas are poor, but strangers are always well received by them: the
Palefaces are our guests, all we possess belongs to them."
The Count and his companions thanked the chief, who so gracefully did
the honours of his tribe; then the two parties joined, and galloped
toward the village, which was built some five hundred paces from the
spot where they were, and at the entrance of which a multitude of women
and children could be seen assembled.