III
A Crippled Warrior and the Mud Albums
"Say, Sam; what about Guy? Do we want him?"
"Well, it's just like this. If it was at school or any other place Iwouldn't be bothered with the dirty little cuss, but out in the woodslike this one feels kind o' friendly, an' three's better than two.Besides, he has been admitted to the Tribe already."
"Yes, that's what I say. Let's give him a _yell_."
So the boys uttered a long yell, produced by alternating the voicebetween a high falsetto and a natural tone. This was the "yell," andhad never failed to call Guy forth to join them unless he had somechore on hand and his "Paw" was too near to prevent his renegading tothe Indians. He soon appeared waving a branch, the established signalthat he came as a friend.
He came very slowly, however, and the boys saw that he limpedfrightfully, helping himself along with a stick. He was barefoot, asusual, but his left foot was swaddled in a bundle of rags.
"Hello, Sappy; what happened? Out to Wounded Knee River?"
"Nope. Struck luck. Paw was bound I'd ride the Horse with the scufflerall day, but he gee'd too short an' I arranged to tumble off'n him,an' Paw cuffled me foot some. Law! how I did holler! You should 'a'heard me."
"He soon appeared, waving a branch."]
"Bet we did," said Sam. "When was it?"
"Yesterday about four."
"Exactly. We heard an awful screech and Yan says, says he, 'There'sthe afternoon train at Kelly's Crossing, but ain't she late?'
"'Train!' says I. 'Pooh. I'll bet that's Guy Burns getting a newlicking.'"
"Guess I'll well up now," said War Chief Sapwood, so stripped hisfoot, revealing a scratch that would not have cost a thought had hegot it playing ball. He laid the rags away carefully and with themevery trace of the limp, then entered heartily into camp life.
The vast advantage of being astir early now was seen. There wereSquirrels in every other tree, there were birds on every side, andwhen they ran to the pond a wild Duck spattered over the surface andwhistled out of sight.
"What you got?" called Sam, as he saw Yan bending eagerly oversomething down by the pond.
Yan did not answer, and so Sam went over and saw him studying out amark in the mud. He was trying to draw it in his note-book.
"What is it?" repeated Sam.
"Don't know. Too stubby for a Muskrat, too much claw for a Cat, toosmall for a Coon, too many toes for a Mink."
"I'll bet it's a Whangerdoodle."
Yan merely chuckled in answer to this.
"Don't you laugh," said the Woodpecker, solemnly, "You'd be more aptto cry if you seen one walk into the teepee blowing the whistle at theend of his tail. Then it'd be, 'Oh, Sam, where's the axe?'"
"Tell you what I do believe it is," said Yan, not noticing thisterrifying description; "it's a Skunk."
"Little Beaver, my son! I thought I would tell you, then I sez tomeself, 'No; it's better for him to find out by his lone. Nothing likea struggle in early life to develop the stuff in a man. It don't do tohelp him too much,' sez I, an' so I didn't."
Here Sam condescendingly patted the Second War Chief on the head andnodded approvingly. Of course he did not know as much about the trackas Yan did, but he prattled on:
"Little Beaver! you're a heap struck on tracks--Ugh--good! You kintell by them everything that passes in the night. Wagh! Bully! You'relikely to be the naturalist of our Tribe. But you ain't got gumption.Now, in this yer hunting-ground of our Tribe there is only one placewhere you can see a track, an' that is that same mud-bank; all therest is hard or grassy. Now, what I'd do if I was a Track-a-mist, I'dgive the critters lots o' chance to leave tracks. I'd fix it allround with places so nothing could come or go 'thout givin' us hisimpressions of the trip. I'd have one on each end of the trail comingin, an' one on each side of the creek where it comes in an' goes out."
"Well, Sam, you have a pretty level head. I wonder I didn't think ofthat myself."
"My son, the Great Chief does the thinking. It's the rabble--that'syou and Sappy--that does the work."
But all the same he set about it at once with Yan, Sappy followingwith a _slight limp now_. They removed the sticks and rubbish fortwenty feet of the trail at each end and sprinkled this with threeor four inches of fine black loam. They cleared off the bank of thestream at four places, one at each side where it entered the woods,and one at each side where it went into the Burns's Bush.
"Now," said Sam, "there's what I call visitors' albums like the onethat Phil Leary's nine fatties started when they got their brick houseand their swelled heads, so every one that came in could write theirnames an' something about 'this happy, happy, ne'er-to-be-forgottenvisit'--them as could write. Reckon that's where our visitors get thestart, for all of ours kin write that has feet."
"Wonder why I didn't think o' that," said Yan, again and again. "Butthere's one thing you forget," he said. "We want one around theteepee."
This was easily made, as the ground was smooth and bare there, andSappy forgot his limp and helped to carry ashes and sand from thefire-hole. Then planting his broad feet down in the dust, with manysnickers, he left some very interesting tracks.
"I call that a bare track" said Sam.
"Go ahead and draw it," giggled Sappy
"Why not?" and Yan got out his book.
"Bet you can't make it life-size," and Sam glanced from the littlenote-book to the vast imprint.
After it was drawn, Sam said, "Guess I'll peel off and show you ahuman track." He soon gave an impression of his foot for the artist,and later Yan added his own; the three were wholly different.
"Seems to me it would be about right, if you had the ways the toespointed and the distance apart to show how long the legs wuz."
Again Sam had given Yan a good idea. From that time he noted these twopoints and made his records much better.
"Air you fellers roostin' here now?" said Sappy in surprise, as henoted the bed as well as the pots and pans.
"Yep."
"Well, I wanter, too. If I kin git hol' o' Maw 'thout Paw, it'll beO.K."
"You let on we don't want you and Paw'll let you come. Tell himOle Man Raften ordered you off the place an' he'll fetch you herehimself."
"I guess there's room enough in that bed fur three," remarked theThird War Chief.
"Well, I guess there ain't," said Woodpecker. "Not when the third onewon first prize for being the dirtiest boy in school. You can getstuff an' make your own bed, across there on the other side the fire."
"Don't know how."
"We'll show you, only you'll have to go home for blankets an' grub."
The boys soon cut a Fir-bough bed, but Guy put off going home for theblankets as long as he could. He knew and they suspected that therewas no chance of his rejoining them again that day. So after sundownhe replaced his foot-rags and limped down the trail homeward, saying,"I'll be back in a few minutes," and the boys knew perfectly well thathe would not.
The evening meal was over; they had sat around wondering if the nightwould repeat its terrors. An Owl "Hoo-hoo-ed" in the trees. There wasa pleasing romance in the sound. The boys kept up the fire till aboutten, then retired, determined that they would not be scared this time.They were barely off to sleep when the most awful outcry arose in thenear woods, like "a Wolf with a sore throat," then the yells of ahuman being in distress. Again the boys sat up in fright. There was ascuffling outside--a loud and terrified "Hi--hi--hi--Sam!" Then anattack was made on the door. It was torn open, and in tumbled Guy. Hewas badly frightened; but when the fire was lighted and he calmed downa little he confessed that Paw had sent him to bed, but when all wasstill he had slipped out the window, carrying the bedclothes. He wasnearly back to the camp when he decided to scare the boys by lettingoff a few wolfish howls, but he made himself very scary by doing it,and when a wild answer came from the tree-tops--a hideous, blaringscreech--he lost all courage, dropped the bedding, and ran toward theteepee yelling for help.
The boys took torches presen
tly and went nervously in search of themissing blankets. Guy's bed was made and in an hour they were oncemore asleep.
In the morning Sam was up and out first. From the home trail hesuddenly called:
"Yan, come here."
"Do you mean me?" said Little Beaver, with haughty dignity.
"Yep, Great Chief; git a move on you. Hustle out here. Made a find. Doyou see who was visiting us last night while we slept?" and he pointedto the "album" on the inway. "I hain't shined them shoes every weekwith soot off the bottom of the pot without knowin' that one pair of'em was wore by Ma an' one of 'em by Da. But let's see how far theycome. Why, I orter looked round the teepee before tramplin' round."They went back, and though the trails were much hidden by their own,they found enough around the doorway to show that during the night, ormore likely late in the evening, the father and mother had paid them avisit in secret--had inspected the camp as they slept, but finding noone stirring and the boys breathing the deep breath of healthy sleep,they had left them undisturbed.
"Say, boys--I mean Great Chiefs--what we want in camp is a Dog, or oneof these nights some one will steal our teeth out o' our heads an' wewon't know a thing till they come back for the gums. All Injun campshave Dogs, anyway."
The next morning the Third War Chief was ordered out by the Council,first to wash himself clean, then to act as cook for the day. Hegrumbled as he washed, that "'Twan't no good--he'd be all dirty againin two minutes," which was not far from the truth. But he went at thecooking with enthusiasm, which lasted nearly an hour. After this hedid not see any fun in it, and for once he, as well as the others,began to realize how much was done for them at home. At noon Sappy setout nothing but dirty dishes, and explained that so long as each gothis own it was all right. His foot was very troublesome at meal timealso. He said it was the moving round when he was hurrying that madeit so hard to bear, but in their expedition with bows and arrows lateron he found complete relief.
"Say, look at the Red-bird," he shouted, as a Tanager flitted onto alow branch and blazed in the sun. "Bet I hit him first shot!" and hedrew an arrow.
"Here you, Saphead," said Sam, "quit that shooting at little birds.It's bad medicine. It's against the rules; it brings bad luck--itbrings awful bad luck. I tell you there ain't no worse luck than Da'sraw-hide--that I know."
"Why, what's the good o' playin' Injun if we can't shoot a blamething?" protested Sappy.
"You kin shoot Crows an' Jays if you like, an' Woodchucks, too."
"I know where there's a Woodchuck as big as a Bear."
"Ah! What size Bear?"
"Well, it is. You kin laugh all you want to. He has a den in ourclover field, an' he made it so big that the mower dropped in an'throwed Paw as far as from here to the crick."
"An' the horses, how did they get out?"
"Well! It broke the machine, an' you should have heard Paw swear. My!but he was a socker. Paw offered me a quarter if I'd kill the oldwhaler. I borrowed a steel trap an' set it in the hole, but he'd digout under it an' round it every time. I'll bet there ain't anythingsmarter'n an old Woodchuck."
"Is he there yet?" asked War Chief No. 2.
"You just bet he is. Why, he has half an acre of clover all eat up."
"Let's try to get him," said Yan. "Can we find him?"
"Well, I should say so. I never come by but I see the old feller. He'sso big he looks like a calf, an' so old an' wicked he's gray-headed."
"Let's have a shot at him," suggested the Woodpecker. "He's fair game.Maybe your Paw'll give us a quarter each if we kill him."
Guy snickered. "Guess you don't know my Paw," then he giggledbubblously through his nose again.
Arrived at the edge of the clover, Sam asked, "Where's yourWoodchuck?"
"Right in there."
"I don't see him."
"Well, he's always here."
"Not now, you bet."
"Well, this is the very first time I ever came here and didn't seehim. Oh, I tell you, he's a fright. I'll bet he's a blame sightbigger'n that stump."
"Well, here's his track, anyway," said Woodpecker, pointing to sometracks he had just made unseen with his own broad palm.
"Now," said Sappy, in triumph. "Ain't he an old socker?"
"Sure enough. You ain't missed any cows lately, have you? Wonder youain't scared to live anyways near!"
Two Little Savages Page 34