CHAPTER XVII
THE FATE OF RED FOX
It may seem a little surprising that Alf did not make a betterresistance when he found himself being carried away on horseback. It isno easy matter for even an Indian to carry a person lying in front ofhim on a bare-backed broncho when the person is helpless and still. Itis a yet less easy matter--if not an impossibility--to do the same thingwith a struggling captive.
Of course we know that Holden was at a disadvantage. He was powerless touse his arms, which were held close to his sides by the wrappings, andit was with difficulty that he breathed. But his legs were comparativelyfree, and it would not have required much energy to make such resistanceas would have considerably hampered Red Fox in his purpose.
The reason for the lad's passive demeanour is not difficult tounderstand.
Alf was no fool. Indeed, he possessed a more than usual degree of commonsense, together with a gift for rapid reasoning. He quickly decidedthat, for the time being at least, he was at the Indian's mercy. Hisinstinct told him that, for some unknown reason, he must have incurredthe native's wrath; and, even though he might have struggled with ameasure of success, the Indian was both powerful and passionate enoughto murder him then and there.
No person, even in the direst straits, is anxious to incur a violentdeath. Holden was no exception to that rule, so he deemed it best tomake pretence of fainting, on the chance that time might release himfrom his plight. It would only be a needless exhaustion to struggle now,when he would be easily overpowered. Moreover, a show of resistancemight mean the sudden plunge of a hunting-knife.
So he lay still, and the Indian laughed aloud, believing the lad to beunconscious through fright.
"Huh! White dog laugh at Red Fox? He say Red Fox face hideous?" theredskin exclaimed jeeringly, as he pressed the horse to the race. "'Tiswell. Red Fox face bad--very bad; but white boy worse when Indian handhave used knife!"
Then the boy understood the mystery. His careless words _had_ beenunderstood, as Bob had suggested. And his fate was to be vengeance of alike mutilation of his own fair cheeks!
Not if he knew it!
It was little wonder if the lad felt his blood run cold as he listenedto the Indian's vaunt, and it is little wonder that his head swam untilhe was near in reality to the very faintness that he had assumed.
But real pluck is never subdued for long. The very threat was enough torouse a strong determination to thwart the brutal intention, and hismental decision was that which we have just recorded in the thirdperson: "Not if I know it!"
Red Fox had quite forgotten about the ermine robe. That was quiteIndian-like. The object of the moment was all that he cared about. Togain that aim he would have sacrificed a thousand robes of costliestfur--nay, even life itself, if he could have the satisfaction ofvengeance first.
Guiding the broncho by the swaying of his body and the occasional useof a halter-rope, the redskin did not permit the animal to slacken speedfor an instant.
Once, owing to the stillness of his burden, he drew aside a portion ofthe blanket to look at the boy's face.
He saw that the eyes were closed, and a fear came into his heart thatperhaps he was to be robbed of his pleasure after all.
But the lips trembled, and, on bending down the Indian could hear thesound of breathing.
"Huh!" he laughed, as he replaced the cloth. "That good! Pale-face--hesleep, but he wake soon when Red Fox make sign of totem. Then white boylaugh not again at Indian. Red Fox, he laugh at hideous white boy."
A peal of harsh, savage laughter rang through the woods at thisdelicious humour, and startled the horse so that it strained harder inthe gallop.
Through the woods, the burnt clearing, across the marsh where Bob hadtracked so steadily, the broncho passed in the mad race. It was roughriding for the boy as he lay on his back--half across the Indian's knee,with his head partly free of the blanket; but he set his teeth,determined to bear the ordeal without a whimper, that he might be moreready for the later critical moment.
Then something (he never knew what) startled the horse. It sprangsideways from the path right into the bush, where a heavy branch caughtRed Fox right in the forehead.
One cry the Indian gave. Next moment both the riders were thrownviolently to the ground, while the broncho went off wildly andriderless.
The folds of the blanket considerably lessened the shock of Alf's fall,and as soon as he had collected his rudely scattered senses he did nottake long to emerge from his chrysalis-like state.
He sprang to his feet, prepared to be instantly on the defensive.
To his surprise he was unaccosted, and on turning he saw the Indianlying face downwards upon the ground, while a red stream was making aghastly pool around his head.
Holden was by his enemy's side in an instant. He knelt down and turnedthe man on his back. The movement was answered by a groan, butapparently the Dacotah was unconscious, for he did not attempt to move,and his eyes were closed.
A spring was close at hand. Alf tore off the scarf that he wore roundhis throat in bushman fashion, soaked it in the water, and mopped theredman's brow. Still there was no sign of returning senses, and the ladwas now grievously distressed at his enemy's disaster. He would havebeen rejoiced to have vanquished the man, had the adventure terminatedin an unavoidable encounter. But now that Red Fox was in distress, allhard feelings and resentment had left the lad's heart. He was allsympathy for misfortune. That is the way of the truly brave.
Seeing that recovery was tardy, Alf tore the scarf in two pieces. Withone strip he bound the ugly wound that gaped in the Indian's forehead;with the other he resumed his attentions by moistening his lips andtemples.
And by and by the redman opened his eyes. He looked up vacantly beforehim, not seeming to understand what had taken place.
"That's good!" remarked Alf cheerfully. "You feel better now, don'tyou?"
Red Fox looked straight into the boy's face, but without appearing torecognise him. Then he muttered a few words in Indian and closed hiseyes again.
For some time he lay with his head resting against his nurse, whileAlf's thoughts began to wander to his absent father and the chum whomhe had left in such strange fashion.
Then he looked down again, and saw that the Indian was regarding himwith eyes wide open--looking at him in a peculiar wondering fashion, asif he saw for the first time a being of some strange creation.
Holden smiled encouragingly as he touched the man's brow with the dampcloth.
"How does the head feel now?" he asked. "Does the cut pain you much?"
Red Fox did not answer immediately, but continued to stare at the ladwith the same open-eyed wonder.
"Pale-face kind," he said at length, in quiet tones. "He touch Red Foxlike wing of a dove. Why is the white boy so good?"
"Nonsense," returned Alf. "It's nothing at all. You don't think thatEnglishmen would leave a fellow to bleed to death, do you?"
"No--English boy good," said the redskin. Then he added, with a sort ofwistfulness: "But Indian would leave pale-face----"
"Rot!" was the sharp interruption. "If I had been hurt as you have been,you would do just the same. Now lie quiet for a while. You'll feelbetter soon, and then you can go back to your people."
The Indian shook his head slowly.
"Red Fox understand. Red Fox know English tongue good. But--he no' goback to people. He go--Manito--Happy Hunting-ground--soon."
Alf was silent. He had never been in the presence of death, and neverbefore in the presence of the dying. The thought awed him.
"Yes--white papoose good," the redskin went on falteringly. "He kind tohand--that would have cut face for revenge. Ugh! Red Fox bad Indian,but--he sorry--now. Can brave white boy forgive poor Indian?"
"Of course," returned Alf huskily. "You did not understand. Englishpeople speak words that they do not mean to hurt. It is I who should askforgiveness for what I said about you. I, too, am sorry."
"Then--white and red are--brothers. They bury the ha
tchet and--my whitebrother will stay with Red Fox while he go Happy Hunting-ground?"
"Yes, yes," the boy assented readily. "I won't leave you. Don't you beafraid of that."
"It is well, for Red Fox would speak before he go. He would speak truewords to the pale-face. He spoke forked words like serpent tongue whenhe say that white man sent Red Fox to bring papooses to Indian camp. Buthe speak well now when he say white men with Mighty Hand now----"
"_Safe?_" exclaimed Holden, as the information came to him with suddenjoy and sudden dread.
And the answer was at once a relief and double anxiety.
"White men safe--now. But before another sun they--they die----"
"Die?" was the exclamation of horror that greeted this announcement.
"Yes," the Indian answered. "Dacotahs foolish. They say white menspirits that brought great trouble of water to Indian. They say thatserpent totem call them to Pleasant Valley, and there they burn unlessserpent appear to save them from fire." Here the Indian seemed to gatherstrength, for, without allowing the horrified boy time for utterance, heslightly raised himself and spoke with a flash of energy.
"But white boy brave--white boy good. He kind to Red Fox who would haveused cruel knife. But Red Fox no' papoose now. He know that white boytoo brave to suffer; Red Fox too bad to live. And he would save thepale-face man--
"Go, my brother--go to the village of the Dacotahs and findThunder-maker, the Medicine Man. Tell him that Red Fox die sorry that hemade bad promise--that before he die he bid Thunder-maker speak true tofoolish Dacotahs, and tell that white men no' spirits. Thunder-makerknow. Thunder-maker can save white men, and----"
The last word choked in the Indian's throat. He gave a gasp, fell backinto Alf's arms, while his eyes looked up hungrily into the lad's face.
"Be brave!" whispered the boy. "Be brave, Red Fox. Manito waits for you.I have forgiven you; He has forgiven you. All will be well."
"Red Fox understand. He--happy----" were the last words that the poormisguided redman spoke, as he died gazing lovingly in his young friend'stear-clouded eyes.
And it was thus that Bob found his chum--tenderly holding his redbrother in his arms while the great journey was taken to Manito's happyland for the sorrowful.
The Fiery Totem Page 17