THUNDER-MAKER'S DOWNFALL
During the rest of the journey through the hills and along Trapper's
Pass, no further accidents occurred to hinder progress, and once free of
the hills the trail was level and across a stretch of prairie.
Towards night the Pleasant Valley was reached, and the three travellers
descended to the part of the river known to trappers as the Old
Crossing, though it was a ford where no water flowed.
On reaching this camp-ground there were evidences of the recent presence
of strangers. Moreover, these strangers were not travelling in any
secret way, since they had taken no pains to conceal their tracks, and
the ashes of trampled-out fires were still warm.
Mackintosh carefully examined the surroundings, and came to the
decision, from certain signs, that it had been an Indian camp.
"To my mind the best thing for us to do is to rest here for an hour or
two," the man said.
"I shan't be sorry," said Bob. "We pressed on rather rapidly, and, to
tell you the truth, I'm rather fagged."
"But what of the others--your father and mine?" questioned Alf. "They
may need help----"
"Not yet," Mackintosh interrupted. "It's no' possible for them to reach
Flood Creek before morning, and the--the ceremony must take place at
moonlight. Oh yes, I ken fine how you are both feeling. You're wanting
to be off until you break down with weariness. But that's no' the way to
do things in the backwoods. Work until you are out-and-out weary, then
rest, and you'll be able to work again. But to keep on slaving till
you're worked out--that's nothing but a gowk's game, and can bring no
good."
"I suppose you are right," said Holden slowly.
"Of course I am. Don't you fear, laddie. I'll no' be too late. I know
the ways o' the Indian, and I know the Dacotahs. Depend upon it, your
faithers are being kindly treated, as best the redskins know how to
treat friends. The Dacotahs are firm in their superstition, but they're
kindly folk all the same."
So the boys resigned themselves to the ruling of their guide, though it
was irksome to be idle when each was longing to be up and doing. And now
that they were so near to the achievement of their quest, it was even
more galling to be inactive than it had been when there was distance as
an excuse.
It was a dreary place. The valley was deep, and there was a river-bed
where once--before the memory of living man--water had flowed in a swift
and wide flood, but where now there was nothing but dust. Not a tree was
within sight. There was hardly any grass. Only a few cacti appeared to
thrive on the barren soil. The rest was rocks, sand, and bordering
precipices.
The boys shuddered as they looked around.
"It's a terrible spot," Bob commented, as he viewed the dreary scene.
"It feels like being in prison."
"There's a well with the finest of cool water about six feet away," was
Mackintosh's remark. It was his quiet way of forcing home the truth that
there is a bright speck in everything, if we only take the trouble to
look for it.
A meal was made from the supplies with which each had been provided, and
an hour or two later Haggis turned up with the pack-horse.
It was not considered necessary to pitch the tent that night, as a very
early start was proposed to be taken at the streak of dawn. So each lay
down as he was, with a sand-heap for a pillow, and soon the little camp
was fast asleep. They needed no rocking. Sleep came almost with the
closing of eyes.
As morning broke, Mackintosh was the first to waken. He quickly roused
the others, and a swift "eve-of-battle" meal was served out. The
business being ended, the pack-horse was once more loaded, and the
journey resumed toward Flood Creek, which was now only about five miles
distant.
The Dacotah camp was sighted some way off, and it may be imagined how
excited the lads felt when they found themselves practically at the end
of their journey.
But once there, what would be the result?
That was the question that was exercising the minds of both; and when
Bob gave it voice, the Scotsman smiled grimly.
"What'll happen? Well, no one can foresee the future, but I can imagine
it."
"And what do you imagine?" asked Bob.
"That there will be a pickle o' bother before all comes out right.
Superstition is no' that easy baulked; but if we ever have to fight for
it, don't think that the ancient Highland blood of the Mackintosh is
water in the veins of the clan."
"I hope it won't come to that," remarked Alf quietly, and the Highlander
rejoined--
"That's my hope too. But there's no telling. We've _got_ to conquer----"
"And conquer we shall!" added Bob, with determination.
On reaching the camp, the rescuers were met by a host of Indians, who
were all filled with curiosity regarding the strangers. The white men
looked around them, but no signs could they see of the captives.
Then Mackintosh recognised a friend in Swift Arrow.
"Ha, Nitchie!" he exclaimed, holding out his hand for the Indian to
grasp.
"It is pleasant for the eyes of Swift Arrow to see the Black Bear in the
camp of the Dacotahs," said the redskin as he returned the greeting.
"And it's good for him to look upon the face o a friend," said the
Scotsman. "I wish to speak with Mighty Hand. Where is he?"
"The chief of the Dacotahs is here," replied a voice from the crowd, and
the great man himself stepped forward.
"H'm. That's good. Saves a deal of seeking when folk come of
themselves." Then the speaker launched straight into the subject of
their quest.
"Now then, Mighty Hand, you and me are old friends, and we can talk
freely. You're wondering the noo what has brought us here, and you may
ken without palaver. We have come for your captives."
"Captives?" The chief looked puzzled as he repeated the word.
"Ay, captives," emphasised Mackintosh. "Perhaps you don't know the
meaning of the word."
"Mighty Hand knows the language of the pale-face. But there are no
captives in the Dacotah camp."
At this the boys felt their hearts sink. Could it be that, after all,
Mackintosh had been mistaken, or that Red Fox had deluded them? Could it
be that they had come too late?
But Mackintosh did not share these doubts. He understood the working of
the native mind too well.
"That is good," he resumed. "If the Dacotahs have no captives, then the
white men are free. They will travel back with me to their camp now!"
Instantly a stern change came over the face of the chief, and such of
the other Indians as understood English began to murmur with ominous
disapproval.
"My white brother speak not wise words," said Mighty Hand firmly. "The
fiery totem call that water-spirits suffer. What the totem call must be
answered. Only great medicine can bid the fire sleep now."
"Idiots! Fools!" exclaimed Mackintosh, for once allowing his irritation
to betray him. "Do you think that we are going to allow our own people
to suffer at the service of a lie? I tell you that we will take those
white men from your hands whether you wish it or not!"
The Indian was unmoved by the Scotsman's outburst.
"My white brother speak hot words. It saddens heart of Mighty Hand to
see anger in face of his brother. But he is wrong. The call of the
totem shall be answered when the moon is round--to-night."
How this strain of argument might have progressed it is hard to say, but
it was cut short by a cry like that of a wild beast, as Thunder-maker
sprang through the crowd, dressed in all the hideous regalia of his
profession.
"Dogs!" he cried furiously. "Do the pale-faces come to insult the great
chief of Dacotahs and say that the fiery totem lie? Ugh! Spit upon them,
Mighty Hand! Chase these dogs from the camp!"
Mackintosh had resumed his temper by now, and he turned to greet the
newcomer with a look of feigned amusement.
"Who's this?" he asked pleasantly. "Is it a monkey that Mighty Hand has
caught to please him, or is it maybe a little dancing-bear tricked out
in feathers for the braves and warriors to laugh at?"
Thunder-maker well understood the jibe, and he flung himself about with
passion.
"Ma conscience! Don't go making all that noise," was the quiet reproof.
"And if you'll take my advice, you'll go home and put on warmer
clothes. You've little enough on to keep you cosy when the wind blows
chill."
Poor Thunder-maker! He had never been treated with such scant respect.
Even the young papooses were putting "tongue in cheek" towards him, and
some of the women could be seen pointing their fingers at his
discomfited self.
Blind with passion the Indian threw himself upon the Scotsman. Instantly
the boys had their guns ready to protect their friend. But the next
moment they could not have pulled a trigger if it had been necessary to
save their lives thereby, for they and the whole concourse of Indians
were shaking themselves with laughter at what was taking place.
What was it?
Well, merely that Thunder-maker had not reckoned with the enormous
strength that was latent in the Scotsman, nor the peculiar sense of his
humour; for, no sooner had the Indian charged, than he found himself
gripped by powerful hands, turned face downwards on a bent knee, and
smacked in good old homely style of punishment, which the medicine man's
scanty attire rendered exceedingly suitable.
Thunder-maker yelled and kicked, but he was held as if in a vice, while
the slaps rang out in rapid succession and the valley echoed with
laughter.
At last Mackintosh released the delinquent, and the poor man slunk away
amid jeers and laughter. His day was over, and from that hour our white
friends saw him no more.
When the hum had subsided, Mackintosh once more appealed to the chief,
but without success.
"We must obey the totem," was reiterated doggedly, though it was plain
that the chief was sorry to be at enmity with the strangers.
"But how do you know that you are obeying the totem?" questioned Bob,
who could remain silent no longer.
At this question Mighty Hand turned to the boy with an indulgent smile.
"White spirits come from waters that are silver when moon round. By this
we know. But if redmen foolish, totem wise. Totem will not let redmen do
wrong. Totem will appear serpent of fire to warn redmen no' light
flames."
"We can do nothing more at present," said Mackintosh, as he turned to
the lads. "We'll pitch our camp over yonder and talk things over."
After the camp was pitched and food partaken, Mackintosh decided to pay
a visit to Swift Arrow, to see if he could not manage to argue that old
man into a state of reason, so as to support another appeal to Mighty
Hand. It had not been considered advisable to press for an interview
with the captives, lest they might be too closely watched, and any
future attempt at rescue be thus frustrated.
"I'll just go by mysel'," the man explained. "Swift Arrow is an old
friend o' mine, and no' a bad creature in many ways. Haggis is away
cracking with some o' his friends also. You'll not mind being left alone
for a time? I'll no' be long."
"We don't mind," said Bob. "Anything to see light in this difficulty.
We'll be all right."
"Very well. I'll be back as soon as I can, and I'll hope to have good
news for you."
Left to themselves, the lads did not speak much, for their hearts were
very heavy, knowing that if some plan of rescue was not thought of
within a few hours it would be too late.
For a considerable time they were absolutely silent, lying within the
tent, surrounded by stores and the various tins and boxes of the
naturalist's outfit.
Then Bob's mind began to wander over all the events that led up to the
present day, and, in wondering at the blind ignorance that could yield
so much to a mere legend, he recalled the chiefs last words--
"'The totem will not let the redmen do wrong,'" he quoted mentally.
"Fools! As if a serpent could tell them to do anything in the first
place! How can any reasoning person be so---- Alf!"
Bob had suddenly sprung to his feet as he uttered the exclamation, and
Holden started to look at his friend, as if he had suddenly lost his
senses.
"Why, what's the matter, old man?" he exclaimed. "Have you been asleep?"
"Asleep? No! Never was wider awake in all my life. Why, I've got it.
They are saved! They are saved!" And the boy laughed for very joy at the
thought.
"What do you mean?" questioned Holden anxiously. It was little wonder
that he believed for the moment that anxiety had brought his chum to a
fever.
"Mean?" the elder boy echoed. "Simply this--that our fathers shall be
saved, and you and I will do it. It's all so simple. We must have been
fools not to think of it before!"