CHAPTER IV.
THE GRIZZLY BEAR.
All was calm in the prairie; not a sound disturbed the silence of thedesert. On the sudden appearance of the Indian, whatever the emotionBright-eye might feel, it was impossible for Natah Otann to perceiveanything: the hunter's face remained calm, and not a muscle moved.
"Ah!" he said, "the sachem of the Piekanns is welcome: does he come asa friend or an enemy?"
"Natah Otann comes to sit by the fire of the palefaces, and smoke thecalumet with them," the chief replied, casting a searching glancearound him.
"Good: if the chief will wait a moment, I will light the fire."
"Bright-eye can light it, the chief will wait: he has come to talk withthe palefaces, and the conversation will be long."
The Canadian looked fixedly at the Redskin; but the Indian wasimpassive like himself, and it was impossible to read anything on hisfeatures. The hunter collected a few handfuls of dry wood, struck alight, and soon a bright flame sprung up, and illumined the mount. TheIndian drew near the fire, took his calumet from his girdle, and begangrimly smoking. Bright-eye not wishing to remain in any way behindhand,imitated his every movement with perfectly feigned indifference, andthe two men sat for several moments puffing clouds of smoke at eachother. Natah Otann at length broke the silence.
"The pale hunter is a warrior," he said; "why does he try to hidehimself like the water rat?"
Bright-eye did not consider it advisable to reply to this insinuation,and continued smoking philosophically, while casting a side-glance athis questioner.
"The Blackfeet have the eye of the eagle," Natah Otann continued,"their piercing eyes see all that happens on the prairie."
The Canadian made a sign of assent, but did not yet reply; the chiefcontinued:--
"Natah Otann has seen the trail of his friends the palefaces, his heartquivered with pleasure in his breast, and he has come to meet them."
Bright-eye slowly removed his pipe from his lips, and turning towardsthe Indian, examined him carefully for an instant, and then answered--
"I repeat to my brother that he is welcome: I know that he is a greatchief, and am happy to see him."
"Wah!" the Indian said, with a cunning smile: "is my brother sosatisfied as he says at my presence?"
"Why not, chief?"
"My brother is angry still that the Blackfeet fastened him to the stakeof torture."
The Canadian shrugged his shoulders contemptuously, and coldlyanswered:--
"Nonsense, chief! why do you fancy I am angry with you or your nation?war is war; I have no reproaches to make to you. You wished to kill me,I escaped; so we are quits."
"Good: does my brother speak the truth? has he really forgotten?" thechief asked with some vivacity.
"Why not?" the Canadian answered cautiously. "I have not a forkedtongue, the words my mouth utters come from my heart: I have notforgotten the treatment you made me undergo, I should lie if I said so:but I have forgiven it."
"_Ochi_! my brother is a greatheart: he is generous."
"No: I am merely a man who knows Indian customs, that is all: youdid no more and no less than all the Redskins do under similarcircumstances: I cannot be angry with you for having acted according toyour nature."
There was a silence; the two men went on smoking. The Indian was thefirst to interrupt it.
"Then my brother is a friend," he said.
"And you?" the hunter asked, answering one question by another.
The chief rose with a gesture full of majesty, and threw back the foldsof his buffalo robe.
"Would an enemy come like this?" he asked, in a gentle voice.
The Canadian could not repress a movement of surprise; the Blackfootwas unarmed, his girdle was empty: he had not even his scalpingknife,--that weapon from which the Indians part so unwillingly.Bright-eye offered him his hand.
"Shake hands, chief," he said to him. "You are a man of heart: nowspeak, I am listening to you: and, in the first place, will you have adraught of firewater?"
"The firewater is an evil counsellor," the chief replied, with a smile;"it makes the Indians mad: Natah Otann does not drink it."
"Come, come, I see that I was mistaken with regard to you, chief; thatpleases me: speak, my ears are open."
"What I have to say to Bright-eye other ears must not listen to."
"My friends are in a deep sleep, you can speak without fear; and evenif they were awake, as you know, they do not understand your language."
The Indian shook his head.
"Glass-eye knows everything," he replied, "the Grizzly Bear will notspeak before him."
"As you please, chief: still, I would remark that I have nothing to sayto you: you can speak, therefore, or be silent at your ease."
Natah Otann seemed to hesitate for an instant, and then continued:--
"Bright-eye will follow his friend to the river bank, and there listento the words of the Blackfoot chief."
"Hum!" the hunter said, "and who will watch over my companions duringmy absence? No, no," he added, "I cannot do that, chief. The Redskinshave the cunning of the opossum: while I am near the river, my friendsmay be surprised. Who will respond for their safety?"
The Indian rose.
"The word of a chief," he said, in a proud voice, and with a gesturefull of majesty.
The Canadian looked at him attentively. "Listen, Redskin," he said tohim, "I do not doubt your honour, so do not take in ill part what I amgoing to say to you."
"I listen to my brother," the Indian answered.
"I must watch over my companions. Since you insist on speaking to me insecret, I consent to follow you, but on one condition, that I do notlay aside my weapons; in that way, should one of those things happen,which are too common in the prairie, and which no human foresight canprevent, I shall be able to face the danger and sell my life dearly: ifwhat I propose suits you, I am ready to follow you; if not, not."
"Good," the Indian said, with a smile, "my pale brother is right, atrue hunter never quits his weapons. Bright-eye may follow his friend."
"Very well, then," the Canadian said, resolutely, as he threw his rifleon his shoulder.
Natah Otann began descending the hill. While gliding noiselesslythrough the shrubs and thickets, the Canadian walked literally in hisfootsteps; but though pretending the most perfect security, he didnot omit carefully examining the vicinity, and lending an ear to theslightest sound, but all was calm and silent in the desert, and aftersome ten minutes' walk the two men reached the riverside.
The Mecha-Chebe rolled its waters majestically in a bed of goldensand, while at times a few vague shadows appeared on the bank: theywere wild beasts coming to drink in the river. Two leagues from them,at the top of the hill, sparkled the last flames of an expiring fire,which appeared at intervals between the branches. Natah Otann stoppedat the extremity of a species of small promontory, the point of whichadvanced some distance into the water. This spot was entirely free fromvegetation: the eye could survey the prairie for a great distance, anddetect the slightest movement in the desert.
"Does this place suit the hunter?" the chief asked.
"Capitally," Bright-eye replied, resting the butt of his rifle on theground, and crossing his hands over the muzzle: "I am ready to hear thecommunication my brother wishes to make me."
The Indian walked up and down the sand with folded arms and droopinghead, like a man who is reflecting deeply. The hunter followed himwith his glance, waiting calmly, till he thought proper to offer anexplanation. It was easy to see that Natah Otann was ripening in hisbrain one of those bold projects such as Indians frequently imagine,but knew not how to enter upon it. The hunter resolved to put a stop tothis state of things.
"Come," he said, "my brother has made me leave my camp; he invited meto follow him; I consented to do so: now that, according to his desire,we are free from human ears, will he not speak, so that I may return tomy companions?"
The Indian stopped before him.
"My brother
will remain," he said; "the hour is come for an explanationbetween us. My brother loves Glass-eye?"
The hunter regarded his querist craftily.
"What good of that question?" he asked: "it must be a matter ofindifference to the chief whether I love or not the man he pleases tocall Glass-eye."
"A chief never loses his time in vain discourses," the Indian said,peremptorily; "the words his lips utter are always simple, and gostraight to the point; let my brother then answer as clearly as Iinterrogate him."
"I see no great inconvenience in doing so. Yes, I love Glass-eye; Ilove him not only because he saved my life, but because he is one ofthe most honourable men I ever met."
"Good! for what purpose does Glass-eye traverse the prairie? My brotherdoubtlessly knows."
"My faith, no! I confess to you, chief, my ignorance on that head iscomplete. Still, I fancy that, wearied with the life of cities, he hascome here with no other object than to calm his soul by the sublimeaspect of nature, and the grand melodies of the desert."
The Indian shook his head; the hunter's metaphysical ideas and poeticphrases were so much Hebrew to him, and he did not understand them.
"Natah Otann," he said, "is a chief, he has not a forked tongue; thewords he utters are as clear as the blood in his veins. Why does notthe hunter speak his language to him?"
"I answer your questions, chief, and that is all. Do you fancy that Iwould go out of my way to interrogate my friend as to his intentions?They do not concern me; I have no right to seek in a man's heart forthe motive of his actions."
"Good! my brother speaks well; his head is grey, and his experiencelong."
"That is possible, chief; at any rate you and I are not on suchfriendly terms that we should exchange our thoughts without somerestriction, I fancy; you have kept me here for an hour without sayinganything, so it is better for us to separate."
"Not yet."
"Why not? Do you imagine I am like you, and that instead of sleeping o'nights as an honest Christian should do, I amuse myself with rushingabout the prairie like a jaguar in search of prey?"
The Indian began laughing.
"Wah!" he said, "my brother is very clever; nothing escapes him."
"By Jingo! there is no great cleverness in guessing what you are doinghere."
"Good! then let my brother listen."
"I will do so, but on the condition that you lay aside once for allthose Indian circumlocutions in which you so adroitly conceal your realthoughts."
"My brother will open his ears, the words of his friend will reach hisheart."
"Come, make an end of it."
"As my brother loves Glass-eye, he will tell him from Natah Otann thata great danger threatens him."
"Ah!" the Canadian said, casting a suspicious glance at the other, "andwhat may the danger be?"
"I cannot explain further."
"Very good," Bright-eye remarked, with a grin, "the information isvaluable, though not very explicit; and pray what must we do to escapethe great danger that menaces us?"
"My brother will wake his friend, they will mount their horses, andretire at full speed, not stopping till they have crossed the river."
"Hum! and when we have done that, we shall have nought more to fear?"
"Nothing."
"Only think of that," the hunter said, ironically; "and when ought weto start?"
"At once."
"Better still." Bright-eye walked a few paces thoughtfully; then hereturned, and stood before the chief, whose eyes sparkled in the gloomlike those of a tiger cat, and who followed his every movement.
"Then," he said, "you cannot reveal to me the reason that forces us todepart?"
"No!"
"It is equally impossible, I suppose, for you to tell me of the natureof the danger that menaces us?" he went on.
"Yes."
"Is that your last word?"
The Indian bowed his head in affirmation.
"Very good, as it is so," Bright-eye said all at once, striking theground with the butt of his rifle, "I will tell it you."
"You?"
"Yes, listen to me carefully; it will not be long, and will interestyou I hope."
The chief smiled ironically.
"My ears are open," he said.
"All the better, for I shall fill them with news which, perhaps, willnot please you."
"I listen," the impassive Indian repeated.
"As you said to me a moment back--and the confidence on your part wasuseless, for I have known you so long on the prairie--the Redskins havethe eyes of an eagle, and they are birds of prey, whom nothing escapes."
"Go on."
"Here I am; your scouts have discovered, as was not difficult, thetrail of an emigrant family; that trail you have been following along time so as not to miss your blow; supposing that the moment hadarrived to deal it, you have assembled Comanches, Sioux, and Blackfeet,all demons of the same breed, in order this very night to attack peoplewhom you have been watching for so many days, and whose riches youcovet because you suppose them so great---eh?"
Natah Otann's face revealed no emotion. He remained calm, althoughinternally restless and furious at having his thoughts so well guessed.
"There is truth in what the hunter says," he replied, coldly.
"It is all true," Bright-eye exclaimed.
"Perhaps; but I do not see in it for what reason I should have comehere to warn my Paleface brother."
"Ah, you do not see that; very well. I will explain it to you. Youcame to seek me, because you are perfectly well aware that Glass-eye,as you call him, is not the man to allow the crime you meditate to becommitted with impunity in his presence."
The Blackfoot shrugged his shoulders. "Can a warrior, however brave hemay be, hold his ground against four hundred?" he said.
"Certainly not," Bright-eye went on; "but he can control them by hispresence, and employ his ascendency over them to compel them to giveup their prospects; and that is what Glass-eye will undoubtedly do,for reasons of which I am ignorant, for all of you have for him anincomprehensible respect and veneration, and as you fear lest youmay see him come among you at the first shot fired, terrible as thedestroying angel, you seek to remove him by a pretext, plausible withanyone else, but which will produce on him no other effect than makinghim engage in the affair. Come, is that really all? have I completelyunmasked you? Reply."
"My brother knows all; I repeat, his wisdom is great."
"Now, I presume, you have nothing to add? Very well, good night."
"A moment."
"What more?"
"You must."
"Very well; but make haste."
"My brother has spoken in his own cause, but not in that of Glass-eye;let him wake his friend, and impart our conversation to him; mayhap heis mistaken."
"I do not believe it, chief," the hunter answered, with a shake of hishead.
"That is possible," the Indian persisted; "but let my brother do as Ihave asked him."
"You lay great stress on it, chief!"
"Great."
"I do not wish to vex you about such a trifle. Well! you will soonallow that I was right."
"Possibly; I will await my brother's reply for half an hour."
"Very good; but where shall I bring it to you?"
"Nowhere!" the Indian exclaimed, sharply. "If I am right, my brotherwill imitate the cry of the magpie twice; if I am mistaken, it will bethat of the owl."
"Very good, that's agreed; you shall soon hear, chief."
The Indian bowed gracefully.
"May the Wacondah be with my brother!" he said.
After this courteous salutation, the two men parted. The Canadiancarelessly threw his rifle on his shoulder, and stalked back to hiscamp, while the Indian followed him with his glance, apparentlyremaining insensible; but as soon as the hunter had disappeared, thechief lay down in the sand, glided along in the shade like a serpent,and in his turn disappeared amid the bushes, following the directiontaken by Bright-eye, though at a co
nsiderable distance.
The latter did not fancy himself followed; he therefore paid noattention to what went on around him, and regained his camp withoutnoticing anything of an extraordinary nature. Had not the Canadianbeen preoccupied, and his old experience lulled to sleep for themoment, he would have certainly perceived, with that penetrationwhich distinguished him, that the desert was not in its usual stateof tranquillity: he would have felt unusual tremors in the leaves,and possibly have seen eyes flashing in the shade of the tall grass.He soon reached the camp where the Count and Ivon were sleepingprofoundly. Bright-eye hesitated a few seconds ere awakening the youngman whose sleep was so peaceful; still, reflecting that the leastimprudence might entail terrible consequences, whose result it wasimpossible to calculate, he bent over him, and gently touched hisshoulder. Though the touch was so slight, it sufficed to wake theCount; he opened his eyes, sat up, and looking at the old hunter--
"Is there anything fresh, Bright-eye?" he asked.
"Yes, Sir Count," the Canadian replied, seriously.
"Oh, oh, how gloomy you are, my good fellow," the young man said, witha laugh. "What's the matter then?"
"Nothing, yet; but we may soon have a row with the Redskins."
"All the better, for that will warm us, as it is horribly cold," hereplied, shivering. "But how do you know the fact?"
"During your sleep I received a visitor."
"Ah?"
"Yes."
"And who was the person who selected such an important moment to payyou a visit?"
"The sachem of the Blackfeet."
"Natah Otann?"
"Himself."
"Upon my word, he must be a somnambulist, to amuse himself by walkingabout the desert at night."
"He does not walk, he watches."
"Oh, I am in a bother; so keep me no longer in suspense; tell me whatpassed between you. Natah Otann is not the man to put himself out ofthe way without strong reasons, and I am burning to know them."
"You shall judge."
Without any further preface, the hunter described in its fullestdetails the conversation he had with the chief.
"By Jove! that's serious," the Count said when Bright-eye had endedhis story. "This Natah Otann is a gloomy scoundrel, whose plans youfully penetrated, and you behaved splendidly in answering him socategorically. For what has this villain taken me? Does he fancy, Iwonder, that I shall act as his accomplice? Let him dare to attackthose poor devils of emigrants down there, and by the saints, I swearto you, Bright-eye, that blood will be shed between us, if you help me."
"Can you doubt it?"
"No, my friend, I thank you; with you and my coward of an Ivon, I shallmanage to put them to flight."
"Is my lord calling me?" the Breton asked, raising his head.
"No, no, Ivon, my good fellow; I only say that we shall soon have somefighting."
The Breton emitted a sigh, and muttered, as he lay down again,--
"Ah! if I had as much courage as I possess goodwill; but alas! as youknow, I am a wonderful coward, and I shall prove more harm to you thangood."
"You will do all you can, my friend, and that will be sufficient."
Ivon sighed in reply. Bright-eye had listened laughingly to thiscolloquy. The Breton still possessed the privilege of astonishing him,for he did not at all comprehend his singular organization. The Countturned towards him.
"So it is settled?" he said.
"Settled," the hunter answered.
"Then give the signal; my friend."
"The owl, I suppose?"
"By Jove!" the Count said.
Bright-eye raised his fingers to his mouth, and, as had been agreedwith Natah Otann, imitated twice the cry of the owl, with rareperfection. Hardly had the echo of the last cry died away, than a greatrumour was heard in the bushes, and, before the three men had time toput themselves in a posture of defence, some twenty Indians rushed uponthem, disarmed them in a twinkling, and reduced them to a state ofutter defencelessness. The Count shrugged his shoulders, leant againsta tree, and, thrusting his glass in his eye, said,---
"This is very funny."
"Well, I can't see the point of the joke," muttered Ivon, in a grandaside.
Among the Indians, whom it was easy to recognize as Blackfeet, wasNatah Otann! After removing the weapons of the white men, so that theycould not attempt a surprise this time, he walked towards the hunter.
"I warned Bright-eye," he said.
The hunter smiled contemptuously.
"You warned us after the fashion of Redskins," he replied.
"What does my brother mean?"
"I mean that you warned us of a danger that threatened us, and not thatyou intended treachery."
"It is the same thing," the Indian replied, with utter calmness.
"Bright-eye, my friend, do not argue with those scoundrels," the Countsaid.
And turning haughtily to the chief,--
"Come! what do you want of us?" he asked.
Since his arrival on the prairie, and through his constant contact withthe Indians the Count had almost unconsciously learned their language,which he spoke rather fluently.
"We do not wish to do you any hurt; we only intend to prevent yourinterference in our affairs," Natah Otann said respectfully; "we shouldbe very sorry to have recourse to violent measures."
The young man burst into a laugh.
"You are humbugs! I can manage to escape, in spite of you."
"Let my brother try it."
"When the moment arrives; as for the present, it is not worth thetrouble!"
While speaking in this light tone, the young man took his case fromhis pocket, chose a cigar, and, pulling out a lucifer match, stoopeddown and rubbed it on a stone. The Indians, considerably puzzled by hismovements, followed them anxiously; but suddenly they uttered a yell ofterror, and fell back several paces. The match had caught fire with thefriction; a delicious blue flame sported about its extremity. The Countcarelessly twisted the slight morsel of wood between his fingers, whilewaiting till all the sulphur was consumed. He did not notice the terrorof the Indians.
The latter, with a movement as swift as thought, stooped down, and eachpicking up the first piece of wood he found at his feet, all beganrubbing it against the stones. The Count, in amazement, looked atthem, not yet understanding what they were about. Natah Otann seem tohesitate for a moment; a smile of strange meaning played, rapidly aslightning, over his gloomy features; but reassuming almost immediatelyhis cold impassiveness, he took a step forward, and respectfully bowingbefore the Count--
"My father commands the fire of the sun," he said, with all theappearance of a mysterious terror, while pointing to the match.
The young man smiled; he had guessed the secret.
"Which of you," he said haughtily, "would dare to contend with me?"
The Indians regarded each other with amazement. These men, so intrepidand accustomed to brave the greatest dangers, were vanquished by theincomprehensible power their prisoner possessed. As, while talkingto the chief, the Count had not watched his match, it had gone outbefore he could use it, and he threw it away. The Indians rushed uponit, to assure themselves that the flame was real. Without appearing toattach any importance to this action, the Count drew a second matchfrom his box, and renewed his experiment. His triumph was complete; theRedskins, in their terror, fell at his feet, imploring him to pardonthem. Henceforth he might dare anything. These primitive men, terrifiedby the two miracles he had performed, regarded him as a superior beingto themselves, and were completely mastered by him. While Bright-eyelaughed in his sleeve at the Indians' simplicity, the young mancleverly employed his triumph.
"You see what I can do," he said.
"We see it," Natah Otann made answer.
"When do you intend to attack the emigrants?"
"When the moon has set, the warriors of the tribe will assault theircamp."
"And you?"
"Will guard our brother."
"So you now fancy that i
s possible," the Count said, haughtily.
The Redskins shuddered at the flash of his glance.
"Our brother will pardon us," the chief replied, submissively; "we onlyknew him imperfectly."
"And now?"
"Now we know that he is our master, let him command, and we will obey."
"Take care!" he said, in a tone which made them shudder, "for I amabout to put your obedience to a rude trial."
"Our ears are open to receive our brother's words."
"Draw nearer."
The Blackfeet took a few hesitating steps in advance, for they were notyet completely reassured.
"And now listen to me attentively," he said, "and when you havereceived my orders, take care to execute them thoroughly."
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