FRIENDS OR FOES?
So sudden had been the attack when the two men were snatched from the
waters of the treacherous Athabasca, that they were too confused to
realise what was taking place. No signs of any prowlers had been
previously evident, though possibly the fact that danger from that
quarter was unconsidered might have secluded what would have been
discernible by suspicious eyes.
Moreover, the men were so exhausted by the adventures through which they
had just passed that they were only able to offer feeble resistance,
and, by the time their scattered faculties were collected, they found
themselves lying bound in the centre of a chattering throng of Indians.
Such conduct was certainly surprising in these days, when the redmen are
a peaceable people who have learned to regard the pale-faces as
well-meaning friends, and have long since buried the hatchet of tribal
feuds.
"What on earth can be the meaning of this?" Arnold questioned of his
companion, who lay at his side.
"It's certainly extraordinary," the other man said. "Yet they don't seem
particularly aggressive."
"No. They offered no indignities, such as would have been our fortune in
olden days. But did you notice how that old warrior examined the knots
himself? He seems to be a sort of head-man. I can remember a smattering
of a few dialects, and I am sure I heard him say to the braves: 'Not too
tight. Do not hurt the pale-faces, but keep them firm.'"
"It's certainly mysterious," said Holden. "Perhaps we have arrived in
the middle of some sacred feast. Or perhaps we've come upon them when
they were about to carry out some form of lawlessness."
Arnold shook his head decidedly.
"No. There are no signs of feasts. As for the latter, these are
Dacotahs--one of the most law-abiding tribes. We'll have to look further
than that for an explanation. Of this I am certain: we are in no
immediate danger. That they are chattering about us is evident from
these side-glances; but there is nothing hostile in the looks."
"More like awe than hostility."
"Just what I was thinking. But see! That old warrior is coming our way
again. We'll learn something this time, perhaps."
As Arnold spoke, an old Indian was seen to step from the chattering
crowd. He was tall, well built, and still a fine specimen of manhood,
though his face bore traces of many years.
That he received the homage due to rank as well as to years was made
plain by the respectful way that a path was cleared, so that he might
pass through the group of twenty or thirty redskins. He carried himself
with the air of one who commands respect as his right.
All the same, though there was no hesitation in the steady stride with
which the Indian approached the captives, nor in the stern set of his
face, there was something in his eyes that indicated awe in the heart.
The other Indians barely attempted to conceal their feelings. Throughout
there was the expression that seemed to say (to put it in plain
English): "Plucky of you, old chap. But better you than me!"
Reaching the Englishmen, who were bound hands and legs, so that they
were unable to adopt any position unaided except sitting or lying down,
the old warrior stopped at a couple of yards' distance.
Drawing his blanket tightly round his figure, he folded his arms and
thus addressed the strangers in excellent English--
"The tomahawk has been buried between the pale-faces and the redman for
countless suns, and for many suns their hands have met as the hands of
brothers. And the heart of Swift Arrow is sore within him this day, for
the hands of the Dacotahs have been raised in their might against those
whose faces shine as those of our pale-face brothers."
The old man paused, and Arnold jerked in--
"Then why on earth raise them? We did not bid you truss us up with these
rawhide thongs?"
The Indian shook his head.
"The ears of Swift Arrow are old. They understand not as when he was a
brave."
"Your idiom is too much for him, old man," said Holden quietly. "Try him
with something easier. Better not let him know that we can speak
Indian, though. It might be to our advantage later to know without being
known."
"Quite right," answered the elder man. Then he addressed the Indian
again.
"We would ask, O Swift Arrow, for what good purpose your braves have
bound us. We have been in peril from the waters; we seek the friendship
of your land. Is this the way the Dacotahs treat their white brothers
when they seek the friendship of your shores?"
The Indian felt the reproach, and his eyes fell for a moment with shame.
"The pale-face speaks words that go right into the heart like burning
arrows. But Swift Arrow knows well that all things must be fulfilled.
The sun must come and the darkness follow. Then darkness come, and
after--the sun again. All things must be as Manito[1] will."
The Englishmen looked at one another with puzzled expressions.
"I wonder what he means by that?" questioned Holden. "'All things must
be fulfilled.' What can that have to do with us?"
The Indian heard the question and understood.
"All things must be as Manito will," he repeated; and Arnold, catching
swiftly at the words, demanded sharply--
"Is it willed that we be bound, as the Dacotahs of old bound their
captives for burning?"
This was evidently a point of view that had not occurred to the redskin,
for he was at a loss for an immediate reply. He looked first at one man
and then at the other, after which he repeated half aloud, half to
himself, as if he were conning the exact meaning of the words--
"_When the moon is round, and they rise out of the silver waters---- _"
"Yes, yes!" interrupted Arnold, and speaking at guesswork. "That is
true. We know that--'out of silver waters'--but is anything said about
bonds?"
The old man shook his head. He was deeply puzzled.
"The pale-face speaks true, and it may be that the redman is wrong.
There are many trails, but only one that leads to good hunting-ground.
How shall the redman's eyes see right?"
Then Arnold assumed an air of indifference as he remarked carelessly,
though not without a certain sneer in his tone--
"Does Swift Arrow ask a question of his white brothers, or does he talk
as old squaws chatter--foolish words like running water? We could tell
him much, but it is well to know with whom one speaks. Words may be
wasted as rain upon rocks."
"Let the pale-face speak," returned the Indian with dignity, though it
was plain that he was moved by the sneering tones.
"Then listen. We who came 'out of the silver waters,' as you put it, can
tell you much. But how can we speak in bonds? The pale-face is a chief.
He will not speak as a slave to his master."
But the old man shook his head.
"It cannot be so, lest you return to the waters from whence you
came----"
"Oh, that's it, is it?" exclaimed Arnold, with sudden enlightenment. "If
that's all, it's easily settled. Look here--you know that when a
pale-face says he will do a thing he will surely do it?"
"My white brother's word is ever truth."
"And when we say we will not do a thing, you know that we will keep our
promise?"
The Indian bowed assent.
"Well, look here! If you will remove these cords, my friend and I will
promise not to fight and not to run away without telling you first that
we intend to do so. We will go with you where you will. We are not foxes
to hide behind bushes; we are no half-breeds to hide behind forked
words. I have spoken."
The old man was immediately impressed by this view of the situation. He
retired for a few minutes to consult with his friends, and afterwards
solemnly returned, accompanied by a couple of young men.
"My white brother has spoken well," he said. "The redman will take the
word of his white brother." Then he turned to the braves, gave a brief
order in Indian, and the next moment Arnold and Holden stood up free.
"What next, I wonder?" questioned the latter, as he looked inquiringly
at Swift Arrow.
He was not kept long in doubt, for the old man called the Indians
together, signing to the Englishmen to take places in the centre of the
group. Afterwards the company started on a trail that led away from the
lake through the woods to the north-east.
[1] Manito = God.