The Prairie

by James Fenimore Cooper

  CHAPTER XXX

  Is this proceeding just and honourable? --Shakspeare.

  During the occurrence of these events on the upland plain, the warriorson the bottom had not been idle. We left the adverse bands watching oneanother on the opposite banks of the stream, each endeavouring to exciteits enemy to some act of indiscretion, by the most reproachful tauntsand revilings. But the Pawnee chief was not slow to discover that hiscrafty antagonist had no objection to waste the time so idly, and, asthey mutually proved, in expedients that were so entirely useless. Hechanged his plans, accordingly, and withdrew from the bank, as has beenalready explained through the mouth of the trapper, in order to invitethe more numerous host of the Siouxes to cross. The challenge was notaccepted, and the Loups were compelled to frame some other method toattain their end.

  Instead of any longer throwing away the precious moments, in fruitlessendeavours to induce his foe to cross the stream, the young partisanof the Pawnees led his troops, at a swift gallop, along its margin, inquest of some favourable spot, where by a sudden push he might throw hisown band without loss to the opposite shore. The instant his objectwas discovered, each mounted Teton received a footman behind him, andMahtoree was still enabled to concentrate his whole force against theeffort. Perceiving that his design was anticipated, and unwilling toblow his horses by a race that would disqualify them for service, evenafter they had succeeded in outstripping the more heavily-burdenedcattle of the Siouxes, Hard-Heart drew up, and came to a dead halt onthe very margin of the water-course.

  As the country was too open for any of the usual devices of savagewarfare, and time was so pressing, the chivalrous Pawnee resolved tobring on the result by one of those acts of personal daring, for whichthe Indian braves are so remarkable, and by which they often purchasetheir highest and dearest renown. The spot he had selected wasfavourable to such a project. The river, which throughout most of itscourse was deep and rapid, had expanded there to more than twice itscustomary width, and the rippling of its waters proved that it flowedover a shallow bottom. In the centre of the current there was anextensive and naked bed of sand, but a little raised above the levelof the stream and of a colour and consistency which warranted, to apractised eye, that it afforded a firm and safe foundation for the foot.To this spot the partisan now turned his wistful gaze, nor was he longin making his decision. First speaking to his warriors, and apprisingthem of his intentions, he dashed into the current, and partly byswimming, and more by the use of his horse's feet, he reached the islandin safety.

  The experience of Hard-Heart had not deceived him. When his snortingsteed issued from the water, he found himself on a tremendous but dampand compact bed of sand, that was admirably adapted to the exhibitionof the finest powers of the animal. The horse seemed conscious of theadvantage, and bore his warlike rider, with an elasticity of step anda loftiness of air, that would have done no discredit to the highesttrained and most generous charger. The blood of the chief himselfquickened with the excitement of his situation. He sat the beast asif conscious that the eyes of two tribes were on his movements; and asnothing could be more acceptable and grateful to his own band, than thisdisplay of native grace and courage, so nothing could be more tauntingand humiliating to their enemies.

  The sudden appearance of the Pawnee on the sands was announced among theTetons, by a general yell of savage anger. A rush was made to the shore,followed by a discharge of fifty arrows and a few fusees, and, on thepart of several braves, there was a plain manifestation of a desire toplunge into the water, in order to punish the temerity of their insolentfoe. But a call and a mandate, from Mahtoree, checked the rising, andnearly ungovernable, temper of his band. So far from allowing a singlefoot to be wet, or a repetition of the fruitless efforts of his peopleto drive away their foe with missiles, the whole of the party wascommanded to retire from the shore, while he himself communicated hisintentions to one or two of his most favoured followers.

  When the Pawnees observed the rush of their enemies, twenty warriorsrode into the stream; but so soon as they perceived that the Tetonshad withdrawn, they fell back to a man, leaving the young chief to thesupport of his own often-tried skill and well-established courage. Theinstructions of Hard-Heart, on quitting his band, had been worthy of theself-devotion and daring of his character. So long as single warriorscame against him, he was to be left to the keeping of the Wahcondah andhis own arm; but should the Siouxes attack him in numbers, he was tobe sustained, man for man, even to the extent of his whole force. Thesegenerous orders were strictly obeyed; and though so many hearts in thetroop panted to share in the glory and danger of their partisan, not awarrior was found, among them all, who did not know how to conceal hisimpatience under the usual mask of Indian self-restraint. They watchedthe issue with quick and jealous eyes, nor did a single exclamation ofsurprise escape them, when they saw, as will soon be apparent, that theexperiment of their chief was as likely to conduce to peace as to war.

  Mahtoree was not long in communicating his plans to his confidants, whomhe as quickly dismissed to join their fellows in the rear. The Tetonentered a short distance into the stream and halted. Here he raised hishand several times, with the palm outwards, and made several of thoseother signs, which are construed into a pledge of amicable intentionsamong the inhabitants of those regions. Then, as if to confirm thesincerity of his faith, he cast his fusee to the shore, and entereddeeper into the water, where he again came to a stand, in order to seein what manner the Pawnee would receive his pledges of peace.

  The crafty Sioux had not made his calculations on the noble and honestnature of his more youthful rival in vain. Hard-Heart had continuedgalloping across the sands, during the discharge of missiles and theappearance of a general onset, with the same proud and confident mien,as that with which he had first braved the danger. When he saw thewell-known person of the Teton partisan enter the river, he waved hishand in triumph, and flourishing his lance, he raised the thrillingwar-cry of his people, as a challenge for him to come on. But when hesaw the signs of a truce, though deeply practised in the treachery ofsavage combats, he disdained to show a less manly reliance on himself,than that which his enemy had seen fit to exhibit. Riding to thefarthest extremity of the sands, he cast his own fusee from him, andreturned to the point whence he had started.

  The two chiefs were now armed alike. Each had his spear, his bow, hisquiver, his little battle-axe, and his knife; and each had, also, ashield of hides, which might serve as a means of defence against asurprise from any of these weapons. The Sioux no longer hesitated,but advanced deeper into the stream, and soon landed on a point of theisland which his courteous adversary had left free for that purpose. Hadone been there to watch the countenance of Mahtoree, as he crossed thewater that separated him from the most formidable and the most hated ofall his rivals, he might have fancied that he could trace the gleamingsof a secret joy, breaking through the cloud which deep cunning andheartless treachery had drawn before his swarthy visage; and yet therewould have been moments, when he might have believed that the flashingsof the Teton's eye and the expansion of his nostrils, had their originin a nobler sentiment, and one more worthy of an Indian chief.

  The Pawnee awaited the time of his enemy with calmness and dignity. TheTeton made a short run or two, to curb the impatience of his steed, andto recover his seat after the effort of crossing, and then he rode intothe centre of the place, and invited the other, by a courteous gesture,to approach. Hard-Heart drew nigh, until he found himself at a distanceequally suited to advance or to retreat, and, in his turn, he came to astand, keeping his glowing eye riveted on that of his enemy. A longand grave pause succeeded this movement, during which these twodistinguished braves, who were now, for the first time, confronted, witharms in their hands, sat regarding each other, like warriors who knewhow to value the merits of a gallant foe, however hated. But the mien ofMahtoree was far less stern and warlike than that of the partisan ofthe Loups. Throwing h
is shield over his shoulder, as if to invite theconfidence of the other, he made a gesture of salutation and was thefirst to speak.

  "Let the Pawnees go upon the hills," he said, "and look from the morningto the evening sun, from the country of snows to the land of manyflowers, and they will see that the earth is very large. Why cannot theRed-men find room on it for all their villages?"

  "Has the Teton ever known a warrior of the Loups come to his towns tobeg a place for his lodge?" returned the young brave, with a look inwhich pride and contempt were not attempted to be concealed, "whenthe Pawnees hunt, do they send runners to ask Mahtoree if there are noSiouxes on the prairies?"

  "When there is hunger in the lodge of a warrior, he looks for thebuffaloe, which is given him for food," the Teton continued, strugglingto keep down the ire excited by the other's scorn. "The Wahcondahhas made more of them than he has made Indians. He has not said, Thisbuffaloe shall be for a Pawnee, and that for a Dahcotah; this beaver forKonza, and that for an Omawhaw. No; he said, There are enough. I lovemy red children, and I have given them great riches. The swiftest horseshall not go from the village of the Tetons to the village of the Loupsin many suns. It is far from the towns of the Pawnees to the river ofthe Osages. There is room for all that I love. Why then should a Red-manstrike his brother?"

  Hard-Heart dropped one end of his lance to the earth, and having alsocast his shield across his shoulder, he sat leaning lightly on theweapon, as he answered with a smile of no doubtful expression--

  "Are the Tetons weary of the hunts, and of the warpath? Do they wishto cook the venison, and not to kill it? Do they intend to let the haircover their heads, that their enemies shall not know where to find theirscalps? Go; a Pawnee warrior will never come among such Sioux squaws fora wife!"

  A frightful gleam of ferocity broke out of the restraint of theDahcotah's countenance, as he listened to this biting insult; but he wasquick in subduing the tell-tale feeling, in an expression much bettersuited to his present purpose.

  "This is the way a young chief should talk of war," he answered withsingular composure; "but Mahtoree has seen the misery of more wintersthan his brother. When the nights have been long, and darkness has beenin his lodge, while the young men slept, he has thought of the hardshipsof his people. He has said to himself, Teton, count the scalps in yoursmoke. They are all red but two! Does the wolf destroy the wolf, or therattler strike his brother? You know they do not; therefore, Teton, areyou wrong to go on a path that leads to the village of a Red-skin, witha tomahawk in your hand."

  "The Sioux would rob the warrior of his fame? He would say to hisyoung men, Go, dig roots in the prairies, and find holes to bury yourtomahawks in; you are no longer braves!"

  "If the tongue of Mahtoree ever says thus," returned the crafty chief,with an appearance of strong indignation, "let his women cut it out, andburn it with the offals of the buffaloe. No," he added, advancing afew feet nigher to the immovable Hard-Heart, as if in the sincerity ofconfidence; "the Red-man can never want an enemy: they are plentier thanthe leaves on the trees, the birds in the heavens, or the buffaloes onthe prairies. Let my brother open his eyes wide: does he no where see anenemy he would strike?"

  "How long is it since the Teton counted the scalps of his warriors, thatwere drying in the smoke of a Pawnee lodge? The hand that took them ishere, and ready to make eighteen, twenty."

  "Now, let not the mind of my brother go on a crooked path. If a Red-skinstrikes a Red-skin for ever, who will be masters of the prairies, whenno warriors are left to say, 'They are mine?' Hear the voices of the oldmen. They tell us that in their days many Indians have come out of thewoods under the rising sun, and that they have filled the prairies withtheir complaints of the robberies of the Long-knives. Where a Pale-facecomes, a Red-man cannot stay. The land is too small. They are alwayshungry. See, they are here already!"

  As the Teton spoke, he pointed towards the tents of Ishmael, which werein plain sight, and then he paused, to await the effect of his words onthe mind of his ingenuous foe. Hard-Heart listened like one in whom atrain of novel ideas had been excited by the reasoning of the other. Hemused for a minute before he demanded--

  "What do the wise chiefs of the Sioux say must be done?"

  "They think that the moccasin of every Pale-face should be followed,like the track of the bear. That the Long-knife, who comes upon theprairie, should never go back. That the path shall be open to those whocome, and shut to those who go. Yonder are many. They have horses andguns. They are rich, but we are poor. Will the Pawnees meet the Tetonsin council? and when the sun is gone behind the Rocky Mountains, theywill say, This is for a Loup and this for a Sioux."

  "Teton--no! Hard-Heart has never struck the stranger. They come intohis lodge and eat, and they go out in safety. A mighty chief is theirfriend! When my people call the young men to go on the war-path, themoccasin of Hard-Heart is the last. But his village is no sooner hid bythe trees, than it is the first. No, Teton; his arm will never be liftedagainst the stranger."

  "Fool; die, with empty hands!" Mahtoree exclaimed, setting an arrow tohis bow, and sending it, with a sudden and deadly aim, full at the nakedbosom of his generous and confiding enemy.

  The action of the treacherous Teton was too quick, and too well matured,to admit of any of the ordinary means of defence on the part of thePawnee. His shield was hanging at his shoulder, and even the arrow hadbeen suffered to fall from its place, and lay in the hollow of the handwhich grasped his bow. But the quick eye of the brave had time to seethe movement, and his ready thoughts did not desert him. Pulling hardand with a jerk upon the rein, his steed reared his forward legs intothe air, and, as the rider bent his body low, the horse served fora shield against the danger. So true, however, was the aim, and sopowerful the force by which it was sent, that the arrow entered the neckof the animal, and broke the skin on the opposite side.

  Quicker than thought Hard-Heart sent back an answering arrow. The shieldof the Teton was transfixed, but his person was untouched. For a fewmoments the twang of the bow and the glancing of arrows were incessant,notwithstanding the combatants were compelled to give so large a portionof their care to the means of defence. The quivers were soon exhausted;and though blood had been drawn, it was not in sufficient quantities toimpair the energy of the combat.

  A series of masterly and rapid evolutions with the horses now commenced.The wheelings, the charges, the advances, and the circuitous retreats,were like the flights of circling swallows. Blows were struck with thelance, the sand was scattered in the air, and the shocks often seemed tobe unavoidably fatal; but still each party kept his seat, and still eachrein was managed with a steady hand. At length the Teton was driven tothe necessity of throwing himself from his horse, to escape a thrustthat would otherwise have proved fatal. The Pawnee passed his lancethrough the beast, uttering a shout of triumph as he galloped by.Turning in his tracks, he was about to push the advantage, when his ownmettled steed staggered and fell, under a burden that he could no longersustain. Mahtoree answered his premature cry of victory, and rushedupon the entangled youth, with knife and tomahawk. The utmost agilityof Hard-Heart had not sufficed to extricate himself in season from thefallen beast. He saw that his case was desperate. Feeling for his knife,he took the blade between a finger and thumb, and cast it with admirablecoolness at his advancing foe. The keen weapon whirled a few times inthe air, and its point meeting the naked breast of the impetuous Sioux,the blade was buried to the buck-horn haft.

  Mahtoree laid his hand on the weapon, and seemed to hesitate whether towithdraw it or not. For a moment his countenance darkened with themost inextinguishable hatred and ferocity, and then, as if inwardlyadmonished how little time he had to lose, he staggered to the edgeof the sands, and halted with his feet in the water. The cunning andduplicity, which had so long obscured the brighter and nobler traits ofhis character, were lost in the never dying sentiment of pride, which hehad imbibed in youth.

  "Boy of the Loups!" he said with a smile of grim satisfaction,
"thescalp of a mighty Dahcotah shall never dry in Pawnee smoke!"

  Drawing the knife from the wound, he hurled it towards the enemyin disdain. Then shaking his arm at his successful foe, his swarthycountenance appearing to struggle with volumes of scorn and hatred, thathe could not utter with the tongue, he cast himself headlong into oneof the most rapid veins of the current, his hand still waving in triumphabove the fluid, even after his body had sunk into the tide for ever.Hard-Heart was by this time free. The silence, which had hithertoreigned in the bands, was suddenly broken by general and tumultuousshouts. Fifty of the adverse warriors were already in the river,hastening to destroy or to defend the conqueror, and the combat wasrather on the eve of its commencement than near its termination. But toall these signs of danger and need, the young victor was insensible. Hesprang for the knife, and bounded with the foot of an antelope along thesands, looking for the receding fluid which concealed his prize. A dark,bloody spot indicated the place, and, armed with the knife, he plungedinto the stream, resolute to die in the flood, or to return with histrophy.

  In the mean time, the sands became a scene of bloodshed and violence.Better mounted and perhaps more ardent, the Pawnees had, however,reached the spot in sufficient numbers to force their enemies to retire.The victors pushed their success to the opposite shore, and gained thesolid ground in the melee of the fight. Here they were met by all theunmounted Tetons, and, in their turn, they were forced to give way.

  The combat now became more characteristic and circumspect. As thehot impulses, which had driven both parties to mingle in so deadlya struggle, began to cool, the chiefs were enabled to exercise theirinfluence, and to temper the assaults with prudence. In consequence ofthe admonitions of their leaders, the Siouxes sought such covers as thegrass afforded, or here and there some bush or slight inequality of theground, and the charges of the Pawnee warriors necessarily became morewary, and of course less fatal.

  In this manner the contest continued with a varied success, and withoutmuch loss. The Siouxes had succeeded in forcing themselves into a thickgrowth of rank grass, where the horses of their enemies could notenter, or where, when entered, they were worse than useless. It becamenecessary to dislodge the Tetons from this cover, or the object of thecombat must be abandoned. Several desperate efforts had been repulsed,and the disheartened Pawnees were beginning to think of a retreat, whenthe well-known war-cry of Hard-Heart was heard at hand, and at the nextinstant the chief appeared in their centre, flourishing the scalp of theGreat Sioux, as a banner that would lead to victory.

  He was greeted by a shout of delight, and followed into the cover, withan impetuosity that, for the moment, drove all before it. But thebloody trophy in the hand of the partisan served as an incentive to theattacked, as well as to the assailants. Mahtoree had left many a daringbrave behind him in his band, and the orator, who in the debates ofthat day had manifested such pacific thoughts, now exhibited the mostgenerous self-devotion, in order to wrest the memorial of a man he hadnever loved, from the hands of the avowed enemies of his people.

  The result was in favour of numbers. After a severe struggle, in whichthe finest displays of personal intrepidity were exhibited by all thechiefs, the Pawnees were compelled to retire upon the open bottom,closely pressed by the Siouxes, who failed not to seize each foot ofground ceded by their enemies. Had the Tetons stayed their efforts onthe margin of the grass, it is probable that the honour of the daywould have been theirs, notwithstanding the irretrievable loss they hadsustained in the death of Mahtoree. But the more reckless braves of theband were guilty of an indiscretion, that entirely changed thefortunes of the fight, and suddenly stripped them of their hard-earnedadvantages.

  A Pawnee chief had sunk under the numerous wounds he had received, andhe fell, a target for a dozen arrows, in the very last group of hisretiring party. Regardless alike of inflicting further injury on theirfoes, and of the temerity of the act, the Sioux braves bounded forwardwith a whoop, each man burning with the wish to reap the high renown ofstriking the body of the dead. They were met by Hard-Heart and a chosenknot of warriors, all of whom were just as stoutly bent on saving thehonour of their nation, from so foul a stain. The struggle was hand tohand, and blood began to flow more freely. As the Pawnees retired withthe body, the Siouxes pressed upon their footsteps, and at length thewhole of the latter broke out of the cover with a common yell, andthreatened to bear down all opposition by sheer physical superiority.

  The fate of Hard-Heart and his companions, all of whom would have diedrather than relinquish their object, would have been quickly sealed, butfor a powerful and unlooked-for interposition in their favour. A shoutwas heard from a little brake on the left, and a volley from the fatalwestern rifle immediately succeeded. Some five or six Siouxes leapedforward in the death agony, and every arm among them was as suddenlysuspended, as if the lightning had flashed from the clouds to aid thecause of the Loups. Then came Ishmael and his stout sons in open view,bearing down upon their late treacherous allies, with looks and voicesthat proclaimed the character of the succour.

  The shock was too much for the fortitude of the Tetons. Several oftheir bravest chiefs had already fallen, and those that remained wereinstantly abandoned by the whole of the inferior herd. A few of the mostdesperate braves still lingered nigh the fatal symbol of their honour,and there nobly met their deaths, under the blows of the re-encouragedPawnees. A second discharge from the rifles of the squatter and hisparty completed the victory.

  The Siouxes were now to be seen flying to more distant covers, with thesame eagerness and desperation as, a few moments before, they had beenplunging into the fight. The triumphant Pawnees bounded forward inchase, like so many high-blooded and well-trained hounds. On every sidewere heard the cries of victory, or the yell of revenge. A few of thefugitives endeavoured to bear away the bodies of their fallen warriors,but the hot pursuit quickly compelled them to abandon the slain, inorder to preserve the living. Among all the struggles, which were madeon that occasion, to guard the honour of the Siouxes from the stainwhich their peculiar opinions attached to the possession of the scalp ofa fallen brave, but one solitary instance of success occurred.

  The opposition of a particular chief to the hostile proceedings in thecouncils of that morning has been already seen. But, after having raisedhis voice in vain, in support of peace, his arm was not backward indoing its duty in the war. His prowess has been mentioned; and it waschiefly by his courage and example, that the Tetons sustained themselvesin the heroic manner they did, when the death of Mahtoree was known.This warrior, who, in the figurative language of his people, was called"the Swooping Eagle," had been the last to abandon the hopes of victory.When he found that the support of the dreaded rifle had robbed his bandof the hard-earned advantages, he sullenly retired amid a shower ofmissiles, to the secret spot where he had hid his horse, in the mazesof the highest grass. Here he found a new and an entirely unexpectedcompetitor, ready to dispute with him for the possession of the beast.It was Bohrecheena, the aged friend of Mahtoree; he whose voice had beengiven in opposition to his own wiser opinions, transfixed with an arrow,and evidently suffering under the pangs of approaching death.

  "I have been on my last war-path," said the grim old warrior, when hefound that the real owner of the animal had come to claim his property;"shall a Pawnee carry the white hairs of a Sioux into his village, to bea scorn to his women and children?"

  The other grasped his hand, answering to the appeal with the sternlook of inflexible resolution. With this silent pledge, he assisted thewounded man to mount. So soon as he had led the horse to the margin ofthe cover, he threw himself also on its back, and securing his companionto his belt, he issued on the open plain, trusting entirely to thewell-known speed of the beast for their mutual safety. The Pawnees werenot long in catching a view of these new objects, and several turnedtheir steeds to pursue. The race continued for a mile without a murmurfrom the sufferer, though in addition to the agony of his body, he hadthe pain of seeing his enemies appro
ach at every leap of their horses.

  "Stop," he said, raising a feeble arm to check the speed of hiscompanion; "the Eagle of my tribe must spread his wings wider. Let himcarry the white hairs of an old warrior into the burnt-wood village!"

  Few words were necessary, between men who were governed by the samefeelings of glory, and who were so well trained in the principles oftheir romantic honour. The Swooping Eagle threw himself from the backof the horse, and assisted the other to alight. The old man raised histottering frame to its knees, and first casting a glance upward at thecountenance of his countryman, as if to bid him adieu, he stretched outhis neck to the blow he himself invited. A few strokes of the tomahawk,with a circling gash of the knife, sufficed to sever the head from theless valued trunk. The Teton mounted again, just in season to escape aflight of arrows which came from his eager and disappointed pursuers.Flourishing the grim and bloody visage, he darted away from the spotwith a shout of triumph, and was seen scouring the plains, as if hewere actually borne along on the wings of the powerful bird from whosequalities he had received his flattering name. The Swooping Eaglereached his village in safety. He was one of the few Siouxes who escapedfrom the massacre of that fatal day; and for a long time he alone of thesaved was able to lift his voice, in the councils of his nation, withundiminished confidence.

  The knife and the lance cut short the retreat of the larger portion ofthe vanquished. Even the retiring party of the women and childrenwere scattered by the conquerors; and the sun had long sunk behind therolling outline of the western horizon, before the fell business of thatdisastrous defeat was entirely ended.