THE STORY OF PUKUMAKUNUN--LOOSING HIS TONGUE--HIS EARLY DAYS--EXCURSION
FOR BUFFALO--TREACHEROUS QUICKSANDS--SINKING MOTHER--SAGACIOUS HORSE--
SNEAKING WOLVES--RATTLESNAKE AND PRAIRIE DOG.
One old Indian with a splendid physique much excited their curiosity.
They were specially anxious to know the story of that fearful scar
across his face. He was evidently getting up in years, and was treated
with much respect by his comrades. However, he was so quiet, and at
times so reticent, that hardly a word could be got out of him. That
there was some thrilling adventure associated with that scar the boys
were very confident. The question among them was how to get him to tell
it. They made friends with some of his Indian associates, and tried to
get from them his history. But all the information they would impart
was:
"Yes, he has a great story. It very much please you. You get him tell
it."
This, of course, only increased their curiosity to hear his narrative.
For a time all their efforts met with poor success. At length Alec, the
shrewd Scottish lad, said:
"I have an idea that I can break through his reserve and get him to
talk."
"Let us hear what your scheme is," said Frank.
"It is this," replied Alec. "I have been watching him, and I have
noticed that the only two things he seems to have any love for are his
red-beaded leggings and his brilliant red neckerchief. So I have been
thinking that if I offer him that red tartan shirt of mine it will so
please him that it will break through his reserve, and will get his
story."
"A capital plan!" shouted Sam; "and if you succeed in getting the
adventure from him we will gladly pay for the shirt."
The question now was how to find out if this plan would be successful.
Some of the Indians are very sensitive, and require careful handling.
However, Mustagan, the famous Indian guide, who had become so very
friendly with this Indian, undertook at the desire of the boys to
present their request and, as it were, incidentally to hint at the
present of the brilliant shirt.
The scheme worked admirably, and here is his interesting story:
His name was Pukumakun, which means a club or a hammer. He was a
Kinistenaux Indian, and when he was a boy his family and people lived a
part of each year on the banks of the Assiniboine River. Here he grew
up as other Indian lads, and was early taught the use of the bow and
arrows, and how to skillfully throw the lasso. He had his share of
excitements and dangers, living in those days when warlike tribes were
not far away. The war-whoop was no unusual sound, and so they lived in
a state of constant expectation of defence or attack.
Living on the prairies, he was, as soon as he was large enough, taught
how to ride the fiery native horses until he could manage the wildest of
them. Living such a life, he naturally had many adventures. The one
that is most vividly impressed on his mind, and the constant reminder of
which he carries in the great scar on his face, is the one that he here
gives the boys.
It was many years ago when, as a boy of about twelve years of age, he
was living with his father and mother in an Indian village not far from
the Assiniboine. As game was not very plentiful that season in that
part of the country, it was decided that they should break camp and go
on a great buffalo hunt, which would last for several weeks. While the
men went to kill the buffalo the women had to go also to dry and pack
the meat and to make pemmican. The buffalo herds were far away, and so
it was many days' journey before they were found.
One day while they were travelling along over the prairies Pukumakun had
the misfortune to be bitten on his leg by a poisonous snake. His
mother, having first killed the snake, then sucked the wound until she
had drawn out nearly all the poison. By this brave act she undoubtedly
saved his life. However, there was still enough of the poison left in
his system to make him very sick and cause his leg to swell greatly.
The result was he could not travel as fast as the buffalo hunters, who
were anxious to reach the herds. So it was decided that he should be
left with his mother to follow as rapidly as they could. So painful
became his leg from the exercise of the riding that at length he was
unable to mount his horse. His brave mother stuck to him, and continued
to help him along for some days. To make matters worse, one of their
two horses disappeared one night. Still, on they pushed as well as they
could with the remaining one, and at length reached a river with many
sandbars. Here the noble woman, in trying to carry him across, got into
the quicksands and began to sink. In vain she tried to pull her feet
out of the treacherous sands. When she would try to lift up one foot
the other only sank deeper and deeper. Failing to succeed in this way,
she lifted him off her shoulders, and, placing him gently beside her,
tried again to struggle loose from the sands. But it was all in vain.
She was held with too tight a grip. Seeing this, and fearing that
Pukumakun might also begin to sink in the sands, she again put him upon
her shoulders, and then both of them shouted and called loudly for help.
But no help came. No human beings were within many miles' distance.
Some prairie wolves heard their voices, and came to the river's bank to
see what it meant. They found the bundle of meat there and quickly
devoured it, but they did not dare to attack the horse, that was eating
the grass not two hundred yards away. When they had fought over and
devoured the food they came to the bank again, and their howls and yelps
seemed to mock the cries for help of the perishing ones, as deeper and
deeper they sank in the treacherous quicksands. But that woman never
wept, for she was the daughter of a chief. But we must let Pukumakun
tell the rest of the story, which fairly thrilled and fascinated the
boys:
"By and by my feet began to touch the water, which ran a few inches deep
over the bad sands, that had so caught hold of my mother, and into which
she was sunk now nearly up to her waist. Still she cried not, but spake
brave words to me. Hoping some Indians might be near, we called and
called, but the wolves only answered with their mocking howls. Deeper
and deeper we sank, until the waters were up to my mother's neck, and my
feet were beginning to feel the grip of the treacherous sand.
"All at once I saw the horse coming down to the water to drink. Around
his neck was tied the long Indian lariat made of braided deerskin, and
therefore very strong. As I saw the horse, hope sprang up in my heart,
and I began to feel that we were going to be saved. The water was now
close up to my mother's lips, but we both called to the horse, which had
been in our camp for years. He raised up his head and seemed startled
at first, and then he plunged into the river. It did not take him long
to get through the deep water, and then as his feet began to touch the
quicksands he seemed at once to know that it was not right, so he kept
lifting up his feet one after the other very rapidly. Still on he came,
until he was so close that I was able to seize hold of the lariat.
"Then spake my mother: `My son, you will escape. Tie the lariat quickly
around your waist, and the horse will be able to drag you out. Here I
must die. The spirits of my ancestors call me away to the happy hunting
grounds, and I must obey. Remember your mother tried hard to save you,
and only failed with her life. Tell my people how I perished, and give
my message to the avengers of blood, and tell them not to be angry
toward you. Farewell. Remember you are the grandson of a chief.'
"At first I wanted to die with my mother. It seemed dreadful to leave
her alone, but she would not hear of it. As the waters were coming into
her mouth she cried, `Obey me, my son; obey me, and do it quickly, for
the horse is impatient and knows the place is dangerous.'
"So I called sharply to the horse, and he sprang forward, and with a
great wrench jerked me from my mother's shoulders out of the quicksands,
and dashed through the water with me to the shore.
"As soon as I could loose myself from the lariat I turned round to look,
and there I saw my mother's head just sinking out of sight. I was wild
with terror and sorrow, and bitterly chided myself for not having died
with her. But I had the consolation that she herself had insisted on my
escaping when the strange chance offered itself.
"What was I to do now? My father and other friends were far away; my
mother had perished; and here I was an almost helpless cripple on the
great prairies, and night was rapidly approaching.
"Fortunately my horse stuck to me, and I saw that I must keep him close
to me all night, or the wolves that were prowling around would, in the
darkness, make short work of me. So, miserable and wet though I was, I
tied the loose end of the lariat around my waist, and selecting a spot
where the grass was good, I sat down in the middle of it, there to pass
the night.
"It was, indeed, of all nights the saddest and most miserable. I could
not sleep. I was full of sorrow. If I tried to shut my eyes, there was
before me the sight of my mother, sinking, sinking down, down in that
treacherous quicksand.
"The wolves were very troublesome. They would sit out in the gloom and
howl in their melancholy way. Then they would arouse themselves and try
to get hold of me. But my horse, well accustomed to fighting these
animals, would rush at them as far as the lariat would allow, and would
either strike at them with his fore feet, or, swinging around quickly,
would so vigorously lash out with his hind legs that the cowardly brutes
would quickly skulk back into the gloom.
"The long night ended at length, and the welcome morning came. I found
that my poor leg, which had caused all the trouble, was much better.
Perhaps this was from having been so long in the water. I was able to
ride, and so I hurried away from the sight of the river that had so
cruelly swallowed up my mother. My faithful horse, that had already
been my deliverer, was very patient while, in my crippled state, I
managed to get up on his back. I had eaten nothing since yesterday, but
I thought nothing of that; I only wanted to get my sinking mother out of
my eyes, and get away from that dreadful river which we had to cross.
Horses are very wise about these quicksands, and so I just held on to
the lariat, which I had made into a kind of a halter, and let him choose
his own course. Very quickly and safely did he convey me across, and
soon did we find the trail along which my father and the other hunters
had travelled. We hurried on very rapidly, until my horse was tired,
and then we stopped for a few hours in a ravine where we were well
sheltered from hostile Indians, if any should be lurking about. The
grass was luxuriant and abundant, and my horse enjoyed it very much.
"When the hottest part of the day was over we again found the trail and
pushed on until sundown. Where the grass was good I tethered my horse
with the lariat, and for the first time began to feel hungry. But I had
nothing to eat, neither had I bow nor arrow. However, I noticed that
the burrows of the prairie dogs were quite numerous where we had left
the trail. So I took the strings of my moccasins, and making in the
ends of each a running noose I fastened them over the burrows that
seemed very fresh. Returning to my horse, I there waited for a time,
and then went back to see if anything had been caught. I was much
startled to find that in the first noose a great rattlesnake had been
caught. He was lashing the ground at a great rate, while his rattles
kept up a constant buzz. With a pole from some dried willows I soon
killed him, for I wanted the moccasin string with which he was caught.
"I was more fortunate with the other noose, for in it was caught by the
neck a fine young plump prairie dog. Quickly killing him, I carried him
and the two strings back to the protection of my horse. As I had my
knife, it did not take me long to skin the prairie dog, and as I had no
fire I had to eat him raw. It tasted very good, for I was now feeling
very hungry. As I had done the night before, I slept with my horse
close to me as a protection from the wolves."