Victor told of the visit just received from the urchin, and of the present made to him, much to the lad’s delight.
“We christened him ‘Smiler,’” said Victor, “for I never saw such a grin on the face of man or boy.”
“We could not help giving him the beads, but fear it will make trouble, for all the other boys in the village will want something, and we haven’t supply for half a dozen.”
“It might have been as my brothers say,” replied Mul-tal-la, “if the boy had been the son of one of the ordinary warriors like myself, but he is not.”
“Has he a distinguished father?” asked the wondering George.
“He is the son of Taggarak, our great war chief.”
“I never dreamed of that,” exclaimed the pleased Victor. “It surely could not have happened better. How is it that he was braver than the other boys and came into the lodge when all the others kept at a distance?”
“That,” said the Blackfoot significantly, “is because he is the son of Taggarak and knows it. He can do nothing that can bring him punishment, unless it comes from his father, and he does not punish him unless he acts as if he is afraid of something.”
“How many children has Taggarak?”
“Only two—the one whom you saw, who bears the same name as his father, and another boy about half as old, who is Ap-pa-pa-alk. He promises to grow up like his father and to become one of the greatest warriors among all the Blackfeet.”
“When the chief learns that Taggarak Junior and we have become friends, and he sees the beads around the neck of his boy, will he not be pleased and feel kindly toward us, who gave him the little present?”
Mul-tal-la was thoughtful for a minute before replying.
“The war chief is a man of strange moods. It may make no difference in his feelings toward my brothers, but Mul-tal-la does not think he willhate them for what they have done.”
CHAPTER XIII
Summoned to Court
At the end of a week George and Victor Shelton had become full-fledged Blackfoot citizens. Several causes united to bring about this pleasant state of affairs. In the first place, the boys used tact and good sense. If the attention they drew to themselves became annoying at times they did not allow their new friends to see it. They played with the dusky youths, and were not sorry to find plenty no older than they who could outrun and outjump them. It was too cold to go in swimming, but one day when George and Victor were crossing the stream in front of the village with three other lads, one of whom was their young friend Smiler, heir apparent to the Blackfoot throne, the overloaded canoe suddenly sank below its gunwales, and all had to swim through the icy waters to shore. Every one of the three arrived first, and Smiler beat them all, though in this instance I cannot help suspecting that the two young Blackfeet favored the prince, but they beat the brothers fairly.
When the weather was good there were sometimes as many as fifty lads playing on the common or cleared space at the rear of the village. They indulged in a species of foot-ball, like the modern game, which was marked by the roughest kind of play. In violence it sometimes approached our own foot-ball, and blows were often given and received in the fierce rushing.
On a certain forenoon, in a particularly exciting contest, one of the players landed a blow on the side of Victor’s head, which sent him sprawling to earth. His quick temper flashed into a flame, and he leaped up with doubled fists and made for the offender, who coolly awaited him. A warning cry from George recalled his brother to his senses, and, instead of attacking his assailant, he laughingly plunged into the melee, which went on as merrily as before.
When five Indian youths invited their guests to go on a hunt the boys took their rifles, but their hosts carried only bows and arrows. On the return of the tired party at nightfall they brought the choice portions of three antelopes, two of which were slain by the youthful Blackfeet, while the one that George Shelton had brought down received also an effective thrust from an arrow. The dusky hunters “guyed” the palefaces who could not do as well as they with their primitive weapons, even though the fire spouted from the iron tubes and the balls that could not be seen by the eye carried death farther than did the missiles launched by the natives. George and Victor took it all in good part, and did not resent the taunts that were numerous.
Another strong contributing cause to the popularity of the Shelton boys was Mul-tal-la, He was home but a short time when everyone in the village knew of the generous hospitality he had received from the boys and their friends. This appeal to the gratitude of the Blackfeet produced the best effect. Mul-tal-la and the messengers, Spink and Jiggers, had something to add, and their stories of the remarkable young Shawanoe roused much curiosity to see him and witness some of the exploits of which he was said to be capable.
Chief Taggarak did not return until nearly a week after the arrival of the brothers, and then he kept much to himself. He was reserved and gloomy, and though George and Victor caught several glimpses of him, and though they continued to make much of his two boys, for the younger moved about the settlement as freely as the elder, the great war chief ignored the presence of the visitors until he had been at home for several days.
One afternoon, after the return of a party from a hunt, Mul-tal-la appeared at the lodge of George and Victor with word that the chief wished them to come before him for a talk. The boys knew so little of the Blackfoot tongue that Mul-tal-la was to act as interpreter.
“What does he wish with us?” asked George, who, like Victor, felt some misgiving as to the object of this command.
“Mul-tal-la does not know, but his brothers need have no fear.”
“What did he say to you?” asked Victor.
“Only that he wished to see and talk with you. Come with me.”
It was about the middle of the afternoon when the lads, under the lead of their dusky friend, threaded their way among the tepees to one near the middle of the village, which might be considered the royal residence. This structure differed from the others in that it was double the capacity of an ordinary lodge, that one side consisted of a broad face of rock, that it was in the shape of a square, supported at two corners by upright poles, the rock serving as the remaining support. The fire was always kindled against the base of this mass of stone, an opening just above serving as an outlet for the smoke.
When the visitors arrived Taggarak was alone, seated at one side of the large apartment, with a small fire burning in its usual place. His royal consort and two children were excluded from the conference.
The war chief was about forty years of age, and his face showed him to be a man of exceptional ability and mental strength. It was easy to understand the iron will with which he ruled the turbulent and warlike Blackfeet. He had thrown aside his blanket and sat in a close-fitting shirt of deerskin, with girdle at the waist, and with leggings and moccasins.
Taggarak was not a handsome Indian, but he was of striking mien. His long black hair, without ornament of any kind, dangled about his shoulders; his mouth was broad; his nose well formed; his eyes black and piercing, rather small, and seemed to glitter with fire from under his eyebrows. His cheek-bones were prominent, the chin square and firm, and the expression of the countenance stern to the last degree. Wrinkles already showed in his low, wide forehead and at the corners of his eyes. There were two scars on one cheek, and his arms and body, had they been uncovered, would have revealed many more, for Taggarak was a mighty warrior, who had beaten down many foes in single combat, and had eagerly risked his life in resisting the desperate raids made against his tribe, or in pushing invasions among others of his own race. Unlike many of his own people, he never was vain enough to wear the scalp-lock, nor did he disfigure his face with paint. When he went upon the warpath his enemies speedily found it out, without any such childish notices.
Mul-tal-la led the way into the imperial wigwam, the brothers closely following. The three respectfully saluted the chief, who looked keenly at them as they entered, and, with
out returning their greeting, pointed to a pile of furs on the farther side of the lodge, where the callers seated themselves, removed their caps, and awaited the pleasure of the great man.
You will be better pleased with a free translation of the conversation, remembering that Mul-tal-la acted as the mouthpiece of the chief and the boys, though the latter had picked up enough knowledge of the tongue to catch the meaning of a good many of the words spoken by Taggarak, who, of course, knew nothing of English.
“My sons have come a long way from the land of the rising sun. Why did they leave their friends to make so long a journey?”
“We loved Mul-tal-la, and wished to look upon the great and good chieftain Taggarak, of whom Mul-tal-la said many words of praise.”
This reply was made by Victor, and was duly filtrated through the interpreter, who was pleased with the words so flattering to himself. It must be admitted that when Victor tried his hand he showed himself a promising student of diplomacy.
George thought it well to add his answer:
“Hunters told us of the great land that lay toward the setting sun, and we longed to look upon it, as Mul-tal-la and his friend longed to look upon the country where we make our home.”
“When do my sons go back to their dwelling place?”
“The snows will be deep in the mountains for many moons; the palefaces will perish if they try to labor through them. They will wait till the sun melts the snows, and the buds come on the trees and the singing of the birds trembles in the air. They will be glad to do this if the great Taggarak is not displeased to have them stay among his people.”
This had the sound of a hint for an invitation. Being such, however, it failed of its purpose, for the chieftain ignored it. Perhaps he did not think it worth the trouble to tell the youths they were welcome; that was to be assumed from the hospitality already shown them.
“Taggarak has heard of a wonderful warrior who came from the land of the rising sun. Where is he?”
“He has a horse that he loved, which was lost, and he is searching for him.”
“There are many horses among the Blackfeet; he could have one of them.”
“But there is none like the black stallion of Deerfoot.”
“Where did the warrior get him!”
“The stallion was the leader of a drove of wild horses. Deerfoot sought him out and conquered him without saddle or bridle or the help of anyone.”
This statement seemed so incredible that Mul-tal-la felt it necessary to add his own statement that the words of the pale-faced lad were true, for he had seen the exploit of the Shawanoe with his own eyes. Even then it is to be feared the chieftain refused to believe the story.
“Are all the Shawanoes like this warrior!”
“There is none like him,” was the reply of Victor Shelton, whose full answer was faithfully translated to Chief Taggarak. “The Shawanoes, nor Wyandots, nor Chippewas, nor Nez Perces, nor Shoshones, nor Assiniboines, nor any tribe are as great as the Blackfeet. Had Deerfoot been a member of any of them, he would have been the greatest among them all, with the exception of the mighty Taggarak, whom no one can equal.”
Ah, but this youth from the Buckeye State was sly. He looked at the rigid coppery countenance of the chieftain as these words were interpreted to him. The youth thought he detected a sparkle of the small black eyes, but I fear it was only fancy.
“Why is he called Deerfoot?”
“The palefaces gave him that name because no deer can run as fast as he.”
“My sons speak with a double tongue,” said the chief, frowning.
“They might in the presence of anyone but Taggarak, but to him they use only a single tongue. Let the great chieftain wait and see Deerfoot for himself.”
Unquestionably Victor was advancing fast along the path of diplomacy.
“When will the Shawanoe be with the Blackfeet, who wait to welcome him?”
“We hope not many suns will set before he comes; but he has had a long way to journey, and may have to slay other warriors that are not willing to let Deerfoot have his steed.”
“The Shawanoe may fall and never see his paleface brothers again.”
“We have no fear of that,” airily replied George. The next question of Taggarak was as startling as unexpected:
“Does the Shawanoe teach the religion of the red men or that of the palefaces?”
The brothers looked significantly at each other as Mul-tal-la translated these words, but Victor scarcely hesitated in his reply.
“Deerfoot teaches the religion that he believes is true. It is of a Great Spirit, who wishes his children to live in friendship with one another; not to make war; to show mercy to all; to be forgiving and do what they can to make other people happy. Such is the wish of the Great Spirit. Deerfoot lives according to that faith, and we believe in it, and try to do as he does.”
The chief looked steadily in the face of the youth while he was speaking, though he did not understand a syllable until it was properly rendered by Mul-tal-la. Victor gazed as unflinchingly into the fierce countenance before him, while uttering the noble sentiments. His self-respect forbade any shrinking on his part when such a question was put to him. As the interpreter waited for him to finish, Victor added:
“Tell him exactly what I said.”
“And that the answer is from both of us,” added George.
Mul-tal-la obeyed, but carefully refrained from saying that he, too, had accepted the new religion, and that the warriors who acted as messengers were pondering over it, and had spoken to some of their comrades on the momentous theme. It is not for us to censure the red man if he was cautious, for, if need be, he was ready to die for the truth.
The thin lips of Taggarak curled with scorn when he caught the full meaning of the reply of the youth. His patience was gone.
“The Shawanoe does not belong to the tribe of Taggarak. My sons, the palefaces, are of another race; they may believe any lies they choose, for it is naught to Taggarak. But none of Taggarak’s people shall believe it! And if the Shawanoe seeks to turn them from the faith of their fathers, the Shawanoe shall die! My sons will tell the Shawanoe what Taggarak has said, that when he comes among the Blackfeet he shall live. Taggarak has spoken, and my sons may go. They will not forget the words of Taggarak.”
CHAPTER XIV
A New Blackfoot Citizen
The words of Taggarak the war chief weighed heavily upon George and Victor Shelton, for nothing was more certain to them than that trouble for Deerfoot was near. He could not be frightened into any attempt to hide his light under a bushel, or to deny the faith that was woven into the very fibre of his being. The brothers talked the question over many times. It was never referred to between them and Mul-tal-la, for the Blackfoot could give them no help, and the final solution of the problem must be reached by Deerfoot himself.
Our young friends joined as earnestly in the games, the fishing and hunting as ever, and no one looking upon them would have dreamed that they suffered any discomfort of mind. Thus the days passed until two more weeks had gone by, and they began to wonder at the long absence of the Shawanoe.
There had been a flurry of snow, and the weather was perceptibly colder. As they sat in their lodge after finishing their late meal, the sifting of the needle-like points against the bison hides was soothing to the ear, and the crackling wood fire gave a cheerful illumination to the interior.
Reclining on the soft warm robes, they recurred to the theme that was continually in their thoughts.
“I am almost sorry we ever came to this place,” said George, with a sigh. “We have had an interesting experience, have made a number of friends, such as they are, though there can never be much in the way of friendship between us and these people.”
“How could we have spent the winter, which will be cold and severe?” asked his brother.
“Deerfoot would have had no trouble in finding some cave in the rocks which we could have fitted up into as good a house as this. There
are places, too, where the horses would have been sheltered from the storms, and we could gather plenty of cottonwood bark when grass was beyond reach, and thus kept the animals alive.”
“Perhaps that might have been done, but I don’t believe it is as easy as you think. It seems to me our hope is in Deerfoot’s tact. He will not listen in silence to any attack upon his faith, and when the heathen inquire of him he will answer them truly, but he has enough respect for the rank of Taggarak not to offend him when there is no need of doing so.”
“You see he has already sown seed, and there will be inquiries by others from him. Spink and Jiggers have been thoughtful a long time. They have spoken to others. Mul-tal-la must have done the same, though he is cautious and fears to offend the chief. All these and many others will question Deerfoot, who will answer them without thought or care, even though a hundred Taggaraks stood in his way.”
“Tact is a good thing, but all that I can see it is likely to do in this case is to postpone the trouble.”
In the midst of their gloomy talk, and with the snow still rattling against the dry bison robes of their tepee, the flap was suddenly lifted and Deerfoot the Shawanoe entered and caught the hand of each delighted boy. His face was aglow with health and pleasure, for they were no happier than he over the reunion.
They slapped him on the shoulder, shook his hand again and again, and plied him with so many questions that minutes passed before there was anything like coherence in their boisterous chatter.
“Where did you leave Whirlwind?” asked George, thereby implying that he had not a shadow of doubt of the success of the venture of the young Shawanoe.
“This afternoon, when coming from the east to this settlement,” replied their friend, “Deerfoot came in sight of Mul-tal-la, who was hunting alone. He had just shot an antelope, and we sat down and ate it together. Then we came to the village as it was growing dark. Mul-tal-la showed Deerfoot where the horses are free. There is snow on the ground, but not enough to hide all the grass, and Deerfoot was told of a place to the west, where Mul-tal-la says the shelter sometimes permits the grass to keep green all winter. There the horses will soon be taken, and shelter has been made for them. Whirlwind, after Deerfoot had talked with him, consented to go among the horses, as Zigzag, Prince and the others have done. He does not like to mingle with common animals, and is as proud as ever.”
The Edward S. Ellis Megapack Page 253