CHAPTER VII
TRANSFORMATION
Four years were passed by John Ermine in the cabin of the old man of themountains, varied by visits to the Absaroke, which grew less frequent ashe progressed along the white man's road, rude though the hermit's was.In the reflected light of the prophet he had a more than ordinaryinfluence with the Indians. As his mind expanded, he began to comprehendtheir simplicity, and exactly why Crooked-Bear, who did not violatetheir prejudices, could lead them by better paths.
The relationship of the two lonely men grew closer, and under thenecessity of the case the hermit took Ermine to a mountain ravine somelittle distance from his camp. Here he operated a sluice, in connectionwith a placer, in a desultory way, by which he was able to hive upenough gold dust to fill his wants from the traders. He exacted apromise from the lad that come what would he must never, by word oraction, reveal the existence of this place. The hermit wanted onlyenough to cover his wants during his lifetime, and if no one located theplace, Ermine could use it as he saw fit in after years. It wouldalways supply his needs, and when the white men came, as they surelywould, the boy might develop the property, but all would be lost withoutabsolute secrecy. Even the Indians did not know of the placer; theyalways explained to the traders, when questioned concerning the hermit'sgold dust, that he made it himself; his medicine was strong, etc. Thisthey believed, and no trader could get farther. Beyond the understandingthat gold dust represented the few things necessary to their simplelives, John Ermine cared no more for it than did the blue jays or theArctic hares. The thing did not interest him beyond a rather intensedislike of the work entailed.
The hermit had often told him the story of himself and his gold. Yearsago he had left the States, following the then gentle tide ofadventurers who sought fortunes or found death in the unknown hills. Hewanted forgetfulness, but his fellows craved gold. On one occasion heformed an alliance with a prospecting miner and an old trapper, relictof the fur-trading days, to go to a place in the Indian country, wherethe latter had in his wanderings discovered a placer. They outfitted inLewiston, Idaho, and guided surely by the hunter, had reached thepresent scene of the hermit's domicile without accident. Finding theirhopes realized, they built the log cabin against the rock wall.
As he told it: "We found the quartz-float, and the miner followed itwith a gold-pan. We were surprised to find we obtained colors almostfrom the first. We built the cabin, and put in our spare time inturning the water from the creek to one side of the gulch, so that wecould get the sluice-boxes in place, and a proper flow for them, and, atthe same time, work the gravel in the bottom of the creek without beinginconvenienced by too great a flow of water. All this time we followedthe trail to and from the cabin along the rock ledge, where no one but agoat would be apt to find it; and in every way we were careful not toattract wandering Indian hunters to ourselves.
"The miner worked slowly up the creek to where the gold became richer,until it finally petered out. He was then at a loss to account for thedisappearance of the metal. This set him to thinking that he must havebeen working below a ledge where the gold originated. He then began toprospect for the lode itself, which, after due disappointment andeffort, we found. It is the ledge which I have shown you, Ermine. Thething was buried in _debris_, and a discoloration of iron stains hadconfused the miner. He told me that the quartz would go a hundreddollars to the ton, and would make us all rich some day. Of course wedid nothing with that, being content, for the present, with the gravel.
"We were high up on the range, away from any divides, and felt safe fromwandering Indians. They could discover us only by chance, but by chancethey did. One morning, when we had nearly completed the cabin, and wereputting on the finishing touches, I was cooking at the fire when Iheard a number of gunshots on the outside. I sprang to the half-openeddoor, and saw my two friends on the ground; one was dead, and the otherwas rolling about in agony on the pine-needles. A half-dozen Indiansrushed out of the timber and soon finished their bloody work. I was soovercome, so unnerved, by the sudden and awful sight, that I could notmove my hands or feet. Strangely enough, the Indians did not immediatelyadvance on the cabin, fearing hostile shots. Since then I have found outthat they knew by our tracks there were three of us. Taking positionsbehind trees, they waited. In the still air I could hear them talk toeach other. I considered my situation hopeless, but very graduallyregained my nerve. Knowing I could not defend the cabin, my mind actedquickly, as often a man's will when he is in such desperate straits.Often I had heard the trapper, who had lived among Indians a great dealduring his career, tell of their superstition, their reverence for theunusual, and their tolerance toward such things. At this time I cannotanalyze the thought that came to me, but being only half dressed, I toreoff my clothes, and getting on all fours, which the unusual length of myarms made possible, I ran out of the cabin, making wild noises andgrotesque gestures. My faculties were so shattered at that time that Icannot quite recall all that happened. The Indians did not fire at me,nor did they appear from behind the trees. Growing weary of theseantics, and feeling it was best not to prolong the situation, I workedmy way toward them. If before this I had been frightened, when I camenear two or three of these savages, and could look at them, it waseasily seen that they were out of their minds. They were prepared for aman, but not for me. Straightening up, I walked directly to one of themand glared into his eyes. If I looked as wild as I felt, I do not wonderat his amazement. He dropped his gun, and bawled out in his nativetongue, which, of course, at that time I did not understand. I answeredin a soft voice, which chimed in well with his harsh howling. Presentlythe others came and gathered round me. I spoke in a declamatory mannerfor a long time, and one of them addressed some broken English to me.That man was Half-Moon, whom you know; there is French blood in him, andhe had been with the traders, where he had picked up barely enoughEnglish to make himself understood.
"He asked me if I was a man, and I said, 'No, I was sent here by theGreat Spirit.' I pointed to the sky, and then patted the earth, saying Ilived in both places, and that when I had seen them kill white men I hadcome out of the ground to tell them that the Great Spirit was angry, andthat they must not do it again. Oh, when I saw the weather clearingbefore me, I piled in my trumps; I remembered an actor named Forrest,whom you do not know, of course, but he had a way with him which Icopied most accurately.
"The upshot of it all was that I gained their confidence, and felt theywould not molest me so long as I could retain it. It was impossible forme to get out of their country, for there was no place in the world thatsuited me better. All of my worldly possessions were here, and once overthe shock of the encounter, I did not especially value my life. You knowthe rest; no Crow comes near me, or even into this particular locality,except for reasons of Church and State. They have been good to me, and Imean to return it in so far as I can by my superior understanding of thedifficulties which beset the tribe. My crooked back served me its onlygood turn then."
The Sioux and Cheyennes were pressed by the white tide from the south.It came curling in, roller after roller, despite the treaties with theirgovernment and in spite of the Indians who rode the country, hunting,shooting, burning, and harassing the invaders. The gold under their feetdrew the huge, senseless, irresistible mass of white humanity upon them.It surged over the white soldiers who came to their aid; it floodedaround the ends and crept between the crevices. Finally the reprisals ofthe Indians fused the white soldiers with the gold-hunters: it was war.Long columns of "pony soldiers" and "walk-a-heaps" and still longerlines of canvas-topped wagons trailed snakelike over the buffalo range.The redmen hovered and swooped and burned the dry grass ahead of them,but the fire-spitting ranks crawled hither and yon, pressing the Siouxinto the country of the Crows, where great camps were formed to resistthe soldiers. The poor Crows fled before them, going into the mountainvalleys and inaccessible places to escape the war-ardor of the nowthoroughly enraged enemy. These were lean years in the Absaroke lodges.Crooked-Bear and John
Ermine dared cook their food only in the midday,fearing their smoke might be more readily seen in the quiet light ofmorning and evening. They trembled after every shot at game, not knowingto whose ears the sound might carry.
Crows came sneaking into their camp, keen, scared, ghostlike creatureswho brought news of the conflict. Bands of Crows had gone with the whitemen to ride the country in front of them. The white men could not maketheir own ponies run; they were as dull as buffalo; they travelled inherds, but when they moved forward, no Indians could stop them.
One day, through the shimmering heat, came Wolf-Voice, one of themessengers, with the tale how the Sioux had made a "surround" of ponysoldiers on the Ease-ka-poy-tot-chee-archa-cheer[7] and covered a hillwith their bodies. But said this one: "Still the soldiers come crawlinginto the country from all sides. The Sioux and the buffalo run betweenthem. I am going down the Yellowstone to help the white men. Thesoldiers make a scout rich."
[7] Little Big Horn.
Crooked-Bear spoke: "John Ermine, now it is time for you to play aman's part; you must go with Wolf-Voice to the soldiers. I would gomyself but for my crooked back and the fact that I care nothing foreither belligerents; their contentions mean nothing to me. My life isbehind me, but yours is in front of you. Begin; go down the valley ofthe Yellowstone with Wolf-Voice; if the Sioux do not cut you off, youwill find the soldiers. Enlist as a scout. I am sure they will takeyou."
WOLF-VOICE.]
The young man had felt that this hour would arrive, and now that it hadcome he experienced a particular elation. Early evening found him atthe door of the cabin, mounted on one horse and leading his war-ponybeside him. The good-by word was all; no demonstration on the part ofeither man to indicate feelings, although they both were conscious ofthe seriousness of the parting. The horses disappeared among the trees,and the hermit sat down before his hut, intent at the blank space leftby the riders. The revolt of his strong, sensitive nature against hisfellows had been so complete that he had almost found happiness in thelonely mountains. While always conscious of an overwhelming loss, heheld it at bay by a misanthropic philosophy. This hour brought an acuteemptiness to his heart, and the falling shadows of the night broodedwith him. Had he completed his work, had he fulfilled his life, was heonly to sit here with his pale, dead thoughts, while each day saw thefresh bones of free and splendid animals bleach on the hillsides that hemight continue? He was not unusually morbid for a man of his tastes, buthis thoughts on this evening were sour. "Bah! the boy may come back; hehas the habits of an Indian; he knows how to glide through the countrylike a coyote. The Sioux will not catch him, and I must wait and hope tosee my good work consummated. Nature served that boy almost as scurvy atrick as she did me, but I thwarted her, d---- her!"
John Ermine of the Yellowstone Page 11