The time is long, long ago. Ugly Elk is the great chief of the Sioux,
an’ he’s so ugly an’ his face so hideous, he makes a great laugh
wherever he goes. But the people are careful to laugh when the Ugly
Elk’s back is toward them. If they went in front of him an’ laugh, he’d
go among them with his stone war-axe; for Ugly Elk is sensitive about
his looks.
Ugly Elk is the warchief of the Sioux an’ keeps his camp on the high
bluffs that mark the southern border of the Sioux country where he can
look out far on the plains an’ see if the Pawnees go into the Sioux
hills to hunt. Should the Pawnees try this, then Ugly Elk calls up his
young men an’ pounces on the Pawnees like a coyote on a sage hen, an’
when Ugly Elk gets through, the Pawnees are hard to find.
It turns so, however, that the Pawnees grow tired. Ugly Elk’s war yell
makes their knees weak, an’ when they see the smoke of his fire they
turn an’ run. Then Ugly Elk has peace in his tepees on the bluffs, an’
eats an’ smokes an’ counts his scalps an’ no Pawnee comes to anger him.
An’ the Sioux look up to him as a mighty fighter, an’ what Ugly Elk says
goes as law from east to west an’ no’th to south throughout the country
of the Sioux.
Ugly Elk has no sons or daughters an’ all his squaws are old an’ dead
an’ asleep forever in their rawhides, high on pole scaffolds where the
wolves can’t come. An’ because Ugly Elk is lonesome an’ would hear good
words about his lodge an’ feel that truth is near, he asks his nephew,
Running Water, to live with him when now the years grow deep an’ deeper
on his head. The nephew is named Running Water because there is no
muddiness of lies about him, an’ his life runs clear an’ swift an’
good. Some day Running Water will be chief, an’ then they will call him
Kill-Bear, because he once sat down an’ waited until a grizzly came up;
an’ when he had come up, Running Water offered him the muzzle of his gun
to bite; an’ then as the grizzly took it between his jaws, Running Water
blew off his head. An’ for that he was called Kill-Bear, an’ made chief.
But that is not for a long time, an’ comes after Ugly Elk has died an’
been given a scaffold of poles with his squaws.
Ugly Elk has his heart full of love for Running Water an’ wants him ever
in his sight an’ to hear his voice. Also, he declares to the Sioux that
they must make Running Water their chief when he is gone. The Sioux say
that if he will fight the Pawnees, like Ugly Elk, until the smoke of his
camp is the smoke of fear to the Pawnees, he shall be their chief. An’
because Running Water is as bold as he is true, Ugly Elk accepts the
promise of the Sioux an’ rests content that all will be as he asks when
his eyes close for the long sleep.
But while Ugly Elk an’ Running Water are happy for each other, there is
one whose heart turns black as he looks upon them. It is Forked Tongue,
the medicine man; he is the cousin of Ugly Elk, an’ full of lies an’
treachery. Also, he wants to be chief when that day comes for Ugly Elk
to die an’ go away. Forked Tongue feels hate for Running Water, an’ he
plans to kill him.
Forked Tongue talks with Moh-Kwa, the Wise Bear, an’ who has once helped
Forked Tongue with his medicine. Moh-Kwa, the Wise Bear, is very wise;
also he wants revenge on Forked Tongue, who promised him a bowl of
molasses an’ then put a cheat on him.
When Forked Tongue powwows with Moh-Kwa, the Wise Bear thinks now he
will have vengeance on Forked Tongue, who was false about the molasses.
Thereupon, he rests his head on his paw, an’ makes as if he thinks an’
thinks; an’ after a long while he tells Forked Tongue what to do.
“Follow my word,” says Moh-Kwa, “an’ it will bring success.”
But Moh-Kwa, the Wise Bear, doesn’t say to whom “success” will come; nor
does Forked Tongue notice because liars are ever quickest to believe,
an’ there is no one so easy to deceive as a treacherous man. Forked
Tongue leaves Moh-Kwa an’ turns to carry out his su’gestions.
Forked Tongue talks to Ugly Elk when they’re alone an’ touches his
feelings where they’re sore.
“The Running Water laughs at you,” says Forked Tongue to Ugly Elk. “He
says you are more hideous than a gray gaunt old wolf, an’ that he must
hold his head away when you an’ he are together. If he looked at you, he
says, you are so ugly he would laugh till he died.”
Then the Ugly Elk turned to fire with rage.
“How will you prove that?” says Ugly Elk to Forked Tongue.
Forked Tongue is ready, for Moh-Kwa has foreseen the question of Ugly
Elk.
“You may prove it for yourself,” says Forked Tongue. “When you an’
Running Water are together, see if he does not turn away his head.”
That night it is as Forked Tongue said. Running Water looks up at the
top of the lodge, or down at the robes on the ground, or he turns his
back on Ugly Elk; but he never once rests his eyes on Ugly Elk or looks
him in the face. An’ the reason is this: Forked Tongue has told Running
Water that Ugly Elk complained that Running Water’s eye was evil; that
his medicine told him this; an’ that he asked Forked Tongue to command
Running Water not to look on him, the Ugly Elk, for ten wakes an’ ten
sleeps, when the evil would have gone out of his eye.
“An’ the Ugly Elk,” says Forked Tongue, “would tell you this himse’f,
but he loves you so much it would make his soul sick, an’ so he asks
me.”
Running Water, who is all truth, does not look for lies in any mouth,
an’ believes Forked Tongue, an’ resolves for ten sleeps an’ ten wakes
not to rest his eyes on Ugly Elk.
When Ugly Elk notices how Running Water will not look on him, he chokes
with anger, for he remembers he is hideous an’ believes that Running
Water laughs as Forked Tongue has told him. An’ he grows so angry his
mind is darkened an’ his heart made as night. He seeks out the Forked
Tongue an’ says:
“Because I am weak with love for him, I cannot kill him with my hands.
What shall I do, for he must die?”
Then Forked Tongue makes a long think an’ as if he is hard at work
inside his head. Then he gives this counsel to Ugly Elk:
“Send to your hunters where they are camped by the river. Say to them by
your runner to seize on him who comes first to them in the morning, an’
tie him to the big peeled pine an’ burn him to death with wood. When the
runner is gone, say to Running Water that he must go to the hunters when
the sun wakes up in the east an’ ask them if they have killed an’ cooked
the deer you sent them. Since he will be the first to come, the hunters
will lay hands on Running Water an’ tie him an’ burn him; an’ that will
put an end to his jests an’ laughter over your ugliness.”
Ugly Elk commands the Antelope, his runner, to hurry with word to
the hunters to burn him to death who shall come first to them in the
morning. Then he makes this word to Running Water that he must go to the
hunters when the sun comes up an’ ask if they have killed an’ cooked
the deer he sent them. Ugly Elk scowls like a cloud while he gives his
directions to Running Water, but the boy does not see since his eyes are
on the ground.
As the sun comes up, Running Water starts with the word of Ugly Elk to
the hunters. But Moh-Kwa, the Wise Bear, is before him for his safety.
Moh-Kwa knows that the way to stop a man is with a woman, so he has
brought a young squaw of the lower Yellowstone who is so beautiful that
her people named her the Firelight. Moh-Kwa makes the Firelight pitch
camp where the trail of Running Water will pass as he goes to the
hunters. An’ the Wise Bear tells her what to say; an’ also to have a
turkey roasted, an’ a pipe an’ a soft blanket ready for Running Water.
When Running Water sees the Firelight, she is so beautiful he thinks it
is a dream. An’ when she asks him to eat, an’ fills the redstone pipe
an’ spreads a blanket for him, the Running Water goes no further.
He smokes an’ rests on the blanket; an’ because the tobacco is big
medicine, Running Water falls asleep with his head in the lap of the
Firelight.
When Forked Tongue knows that Running Water has started for the hunters,
he waits. Then he thinks:
“Now the hunters, because I have waited long, have already burned
Running Water. An’ I will go an’ see an’ bring back one of the
shin-bones to show Ugly Elk that he will never return.”
Forked Tongue travels fast; an’ as he runs by the lodge of the
Firelight, while it is a new lodge to him, he does not pause, for the
lodge is closed so that the light will not trouble Running Water where
he lies asleep with his head in the lap of the Firelight.
Moh-Kwa, the Wise Bear, is behind a tree as Forked Tongue trots past,
an’ he laughs deep in his hairy bosom; for Moh-Kwa likes revenge, an’ he
remembers how he was cheated of his bowl of molasses.
Forked Tongue runs by Moh-Kwa like a shadow an’ never sees him, an’
cannot hear him laugh.
When Forked Tongue comes to the hunters, they put their hands on him an’
tie him to the peeled pine tree. As they dance an’ shout an’ pile the
brush an’ wood about him, Forked Tongue glares with eyes full of fear
an’ asks: “What is this to mean?” The hunters stop dancing an’ say: “It
means that it is time to sing the death song.” With that they bring fire
from their camp an’ make a blaze in the twigs an’ brush about Forked
Tongue; an’ the flames leap up as if eager to be at him--for fire hates
a liar--an’ in a little time Forked Tongue is burned away an’ only the
ashes are left an’ the big bones, which are yet white hot.
The sun is sinking when Running Water wakes an’ he is much dismayed;
but the Firelight cheers him with her dark eyes, an’ Moh-Kwa comes from
behind the tree an’ gives him good words of wisdom; an’ when he has
once more eaten an’ drunk an’ smoked, he kisses the Firelight an’ goes
forward to the hunters as the Ugly Elk said.
[Illustration: 0055]
An’ when he comes to them, he asks:
“Have you killed an’ cooked the deer which was sent you by the Ugly
Elk?” An’ the hunters laugh an’ say: “Yes; he is killed an’ cooked.”
Then they take him to the peeled pine tree, an’ tell him of Forked
Tongue an’ his fate; an’ after cooling a great shin-bone in the river,
they wrap it in bark an’ grass an’ say:
“Carry that to the Ugly Elk that he may know his deer is killed an’
cooked.”
While he is returning to Ugly Elk much disturbed, Moh-Kwa tells Running
Water how Forked Tongue made his evil plan; an both Running Water when
he hears, an’ Ugly Elk when he hears, can hardly breathe for wonder. An’
the Ugly Elk cannot speak for his great happiness when now that Running
Water is still alive an’ has not made a joke of his ugliness nor
laughed. Also, Ugly Elk gives Moh-Kwa that bowl of molasses of which
Forked Tongue would cheat him.
The same day, Moh-Kwa brings the Firelight to the lodge of Ugly Elk,
an’ she an’ Running Water are wed; an’ from that time she dwells in the
tepee of Running Water, even unto the day when he is named Kill-Bear an’
made chief after Ugly Elk is no more.
“It is ever,” said the Jolly Doctor, beaming from one to another to
observe if we enjoyed Sioux Sam’s story with as deep a zest as he did,
“it is ever a wondrous pleasure to meet with these tales of a primitive
people. They are as simple as the romaunts invented and told by children
for the amusement of each other, and yet they own something of a plot,
though it be the shallowest.”
“Commonly, too, they teach a moral lesson,” spoke up the Sour Gentleman,
“albeit from what I know of savage morals they would not seem to have
had impressive effect upon the authors or their Indian listeners. You
should know something of our Indians?”
Here the Sour Gentleman turned to the Old Cattleman, who was rolling a
fresh cigar in his mouth as though the taste of tobacco were a delight.
“Me, savey Injuns?” said the Old Cattleman. “Which I knows that much
about Injuns it gets in my way.”
“What of their morals, then?” asked the Sour Gentleman.
“Plumb base. That is, they’re plumb base when took from a paleface
standp’int. Lookin’ at ’em with the callous eyes of a savage, I
reckons now they would mighty likely seem bleached a whole lot.”
Discussion rambled to and fro for a time, and led to a learned
disquisition on fables from the Jolly Doctor, they being, he said, the
original literature of the world. With the end of it, however, there
arose a request that the Sour Gentleman follow the excellent examples of
the Jolly Doctor and Sioux Sam.
“But I’ve no invention,” complained the Sour Gentleman. “At the best I
could but give you certain personal experiences of my own; and those,
let me tell you, are not always to my credit.”
“Now I’ll wager,” spoke up the Red Nosed Gentleman, “now I’ll wager a
bottle of burgundy--and that reminds me I must send for another, since
this one by me is empty--that your experiences are quite as glorious as
my own; and yet, sir,”--here the Red Nosed Gentleman looked hard at the
Sour Gentleman as though defying him to the tiltyard--“should you favor
us, I’ll even follow you, and forage in the pages of my own heretofore
and give you a story myself.”
“That is a frank offer,” chimed in the Jolly Doctor.
“There is no fault to be found with the offer,” said the Sour Gentleman;
“and yet, I naturally hesitate when those stories of myself, which my
poverty of imagination would compel me to give you, are not likely to
grace or lift me in your esteem.”
“And what now do you suppose should be the illustrative virtues of what
stories I will offer when I tell you I am a reformed gambler?”
This query was put by the Red Nosed Gentleman. The information thrown
out would seem to hearten the Sour Gentleman not a little.
“Then there will be two black sheep at all events,” said the Sour
Gentleman.
“Gents,” observed the Old Cattleman, decisively, “if it’ll add to the
gen’ral encouragement, I’ll say right yere that in Arizona I was allowed
to be some heinous myse’f. If this is to be a competition in iniquity, I
aims to cut in on the play.”
“Encouraged,” responded the Sour Gentleman, with just the specter of a
vinegar smile, “by the assurance that I am like to prove no more ebon
than my neighbors, I see nothing for it save to relate of the riches
I made and lost in queer tobacco. I may add, too, that this particular
incident carries no serious elements of wrong; it is one of my cleanest
pages, and displays me as more sinned against than sinning.”