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_THE _RENEGADE

A TALE OF THE BLACKPEET COUNTRY.

BY J. ’ STANLEY HENDERSON.

‘ NEW YORK:
" PEADLE AN'D ADAMS, PUBLISHERS,

 A5.“ N0. W WILLIAM m. I '

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hue Clerk’l once of the District Court of the United sum to: ‘h
" Southern Dietrict 0! New York. '

      
   
  
     

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j RED PLUME.

CHAPTER I.
Tumwvnns.

IT was near sunset, toward the close of the summer of the
year 183—, in the valley of the Saskatchie (so called at that
time), a stream that formed one of the head-waters of the great
Missouri. The sun had not set to the world above the valley,
for his last rays were painting with crimson and purple the
snow-clad summits of the lofty Wind River Mountains; and
'tinging, with the hues of the violet and opal, the cloudy slopes
of the distant Yellowstone range. It was sunset in the valley,
however, and the only rays to light up its verdurous slopes
and shady cwerts were those of the myriad stars that peeped
out from the vault above, to be reflected by the placid surface
of the rippling stream. The fresh breeze blowing over the
broad prairies beyond, and among the rugged ridges and de-
files near the valley, was heard among the branches of the
tall cottonwoods, but it hardly stirred the more delicate foli-
age of the willows and elders, that nestled low down by the
side of the water. ’

V 011 one side of the stream, the valley was narrow, shut in
by blufi‘s, and cut up by rocky elevations; on the other side,
it was broad, and like a rolling prairie, covered with a heavy
gt nth of luxuriant grass, dotted with gigantic trees, and
sloping away gradually to the level of the plain above. At
what appeared to be the broadest part of the plain, partially
concealed by a wooded blufl’, was an Indian camp, or migra-
tory village, containing some fifty lodges. It was evidently
not a war-party, or the lodge-poles would not have been

.' there, nor would women and children have been seen mov- ‘
ing about among the lodges and on the bank, of the stream.
It was also evident that they did not fear attack, and

 

 

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considered themselves in no sort of danger, or smoke would
not have been issuing from the peaks of the skin-lodges, and
horses would not have been grazing at will on the abundant
grass of the plain.

The lodges belonged to a band of the Blackfeet triLe,
those dangerous banditti of the mountains, whose hand was
against every man and every man’s hand against them
~thSe fierce, warlike and implacable dispositions kept them
mntinually at war with other tribes and with the white men
who occasionally invaded their territory. But, this band
seemed inclined to be peaceable, to wish only to feed their
horses in that luxuriant pasture, and to drink the sparkling
waters of the saskatcliie: They seemed to consider them-
selves in perfect security, although their hereditary enemies,
the Crows, lay above them, near the foot of the Yellowstone
range, and hovered beyond them on the broad prairie; and
although it was the season when hands of trappers and other
whites were expected to be making their way westward.

Under the tall cottonwoods, and near the belt of willows
that skirted the glistening streain, two Indians, 3 young war~
rior and a young woman, were walking on the soft carpet of

green grass, and talking in tones hardly louder than the ‘ ‘

soughing of the wind, among the branches.

The warrior was a splendid specimen of Indian manhood
,—tall, well (molded, lithe and sinewy, with really noble fea-
-tures.vflashing eyes, high brow, and finely-arched lips. ‘He

looked like a free $011 of the mountains, and not like the V

lower order of beings who roamed the prairies and hung
about the borders of the settlements, His bright-colored war-
paint, while ’ it by no means improved his appearance, pro-
«laimed that he waslalreadyvrenovwned in the tribe as a wan
nor, a fact that was further evidenced ,by his headrornanient
of eagles’ feathers, over which waved, and floated gracefully
backward, a long, scarlet plume. '

The young woman was not a maiden, but the wife of Nip- ‘
muck-we, otherwise known as Fat Bear, the 91d chief who -

was at the head of" the hand. She was beautiful, in 
new style. allheueh she wasafiquaw.anthems for be
handsome face and form that the old Bear had chosen her,

Willem senilth her we when and he“. “led”  hhgg

 
 

 

 

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wire.  It could not have been WOW that Inn-in would love
him, and she did not, but she was dutiful, and waited on her
lord and master, and didhie drudgery, quite uneompluiningly.
Although she accepted her fate with resignation. she won fur
from happy, for her heart had been given, years ago, to the
young warrior who was walking .by her side under the ~00tr
tonwoods.
4 , “ La-lu must go to .her lodge,” she said, in a voice that on
' a , 'iingulurly soft. and musical.
‘ “ Why must she go?” responded the manly accents of tho
' , warrior. “ The dew has not yet begun to full; the smoke is
still rising from the lodges, and the sun has not left the tops
[\I of themountuins." ‘
“ Nip-muck—we will wonder; he will say I have been wan.
daring with Kotselo, and that I am not a good wife to him.”
' “He will know nothing of it. The Bear has gone on the
._ prairie to hunt. He said he was going to hunt, but Kotselo
* (knows that he lied, for some of our best young men went
- ' with him, in their war-paint. He would not take Kotselo,
’, {or home. His foot is now on the war-path, and your
. ' . lodge will not See him Again, until he can, bring scalps to the
 village. We can walk as we choose, and need halve nofenr
 of Nip-muck-we.’s’
‘ g “ I. know that he is absent, and he said that two suns would
i, ~ "r diet before he should return; but, old As-moo-tuh is in the
“ t; .lodge, and she watches me, as he has told her toyand he
‘ knows where I go and what I do.”
'  , “ Why should he set a watch upon you? Why should we
‘. r ‘ ' not walk as We choose? What harm do We do? We were

F; V children together, and we are but as children now. To
: gether we played about the lodges; together we sought the
j: . flowers and grasses; together we culled the willow-twigs an.
 5 ‘ wove our baskets ; together we floated on the stream, by sun

light and by moonlight. Why should we not walk together
and talk together, as we have always done? Does Nip-
mnckrwe think that Kotselo has the heart of a snake, that he
' will crawl in tin grass where he is hid, and that there is
mison in his tongue? Have the eyes of the chief grown old.
 .0 that he sees things that are not?" > - ~
g “The chief think.“pr Least-ho  \

 

 

 

   
   
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
         

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dropping smoothly from her lips, “that Kotselo loves his v
wife."

“ And that is true,” said the warrior. , ’

“ He thinks, too, that his wife loves Kotselo better than she
loves himself."

, “That, also, is true, I believe.”
‘, “ The chief knows that he is old and ugly, and he know

‘ that Kotselo is young and handsome, that the eyes of all th- I ' ,
maidens are turned upon him, more than upon any other. ‘ '
warrior. That is why he sets a watch upon us, why he is" y
angry if we are together."

“ The Fat Bear should have been called the Burrowing
Dog," angrily exclaimed the young man; “for he has the
heart of a dog, and he would hide his wife in the ground,
for fear that other eyes than his own should look upon her.

It is true that we love each other, but we love as children, as it
we have always loved. The Bear had better save his spite .

for the enemies of the Black'feet, than waste it upon us. Be. . »,
cause he has the heart of a dog, does he think his Wife has t
not the heart of a woman? He knows that there is none ,
braver than Kotselo—that not one of the young men has I: ,

brought home so many sealps. He knows that I speak

openly, and do not lie; why does he not tell me what is in \ 2 ~ I
his heart, instead of creeping like a snake to sting me 1’ He , ~ 
has tried to keep me from the council, to shut me from the n .V  /
dance that was held over the sculps of enemies who had been "vi

slain by me. He shall do it no more; .he must not, provoke
me too far ; for the heart of Kotselo is true, but his anger is
hot and quick. We will walk as we choose, my Star-in-the-

grass, and will talk as we used to talk, and will love each _ 5
each other as we have loved, and the Fat Bear may growl as 
he pleases.” K r  
“ You must not speak so,” said La-la, in a trembling voice.‘ . ’ ,v
“ I must go to my lodge, for—” ,_ “

She trembled still more, and covered her face with her

hands, as the couple were greeted with an eldritch shriek,

, half-yell and lnllf-luughter, and a decrepit old hag, with e V
’ . ' savage grin on her ugly features, stepped out from behind the '

 - - ' trunk of a cottonwood, and stood before them. A  ‘7 I.
' “Ha! ha i” she exclaimed. “Did you think that‘Nlp- .

 

 

 

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muck-we had no eyes? Did you think him so far away, that
he can not see his young squaw, when she walks under the
trees at night, and talks love with Kotselo, the handsome_
snake? Nip-muck—we has gone to hunt,wit_h his young men,

I but he looks through the eyes of As-moo-tah, and her «ye!

are bright and wide open. The Fat Bear is far away on the
prairie, but he hears with the ears of As-moo—tah, and her
tongue can tell what she has listened to."

“ What means the screech-owl I?" angrily exclaimed the
young warrior. “Why does she hover around us, like a foul
buzzard? What has her wicked eyes seen, and what has her
hungry ears board? We do nothing, and say nothing, that

. we fear to have known.”

“ I have seen Kotselo hold the hand of the chief’s squaw,’
“ I have seen him bend down and whis.
per soft words in her ears, and I have heard him say that
they two would love each other as much as they wished, and
the Fat Bear might growl as he pleased. They will find that
the Fat Bear will not be content with growling, that he can
use his teeth and his claws.”

“ There was nothing wrong in what we did or said,” per~
sisted Kotselo. “La-la is my sister; I have always loved
'her as my sister, and she has loved me as her brother. There
is no reason why we should not be brother and sister still.
You can tell Nip-muck-we what you please, but he had better
beware how he tries to use his teeth and his claws, for he
knows that the eyes of Kotselo are sharp, and his arm is
strong. Come, La-la, let us walk, and give no heed to the
screeching of old As-moo-tah."

“ No, Kotselo," answered the young woman. "‘ No, my
I must go to my lodge. I should have gone long
11
“ Yes, get to your lodge, and dream of what your husband
will say and do when he returns from the hunt,” shrieked
AsmOo-tah, half pushing, half striking her, until she nearly

‘, rel] to the ground.

But the young warrior interposed his tail form between the
hag and the object of her wrath, took La-ls’s hand in his own,
and walked with her to the lodge, As-moa-tah following

‘ whom. chatteringand vociferatlng.

 

  

O H A P T E R I I .
“ ms’r THE Pun'rms'r THING."

“ WA-AL, uncle, I myther calkilate that this is jist about I
good a place as we can find for campin’ to-night." A

“What do you say about it, Delaware '2." continued the
speaker, as he struck his ax into a cottonwood sapling, cutting
through the soft wood, and bringing the young tree to the
ground

“Maybe so you are right," answered the Indian who was
addressed. “Black Beaver has watched the signs, and they
are good, but maybe so signs lie sometimes.”

“ Calkilate they don’t often lie to you, Beaver, when you
ain‘t turned from the natural bent of your mind by a little too
much New England rum. What do you say, uncle? Shall
we put up at this tavern tonight? I am as hungry as a
whirlpool, and feel as if I could suck in a hull bufl'alo-hump.”

“ I believe it is as good a place as we can find,” was the
ansWer, “ and if the Delaware makes no objections, we will
camp here to-night.” ‘. i.

The Indian gave consent by his silence, and preparations
were immediately and rapidly made, for the purpose of getting

supper, and of passing the night as comfortably and safely as ,

pomible. r

The party consisted of Nathan' Carver, his wife Sarah, his ‘
son David, his daughter Ellen, his nephew, Eben Gookin;.
and a Delaware Indian, called Black Beaver, and generally
known, “ for short,” as Beaver.

All except the Indian were from the good State of Muse,

cltusetts, were of the stout old Pilgrim stock, the name of Car , _

Ver being commemorated by a thriving'town, and that of
Goolsia having been rendered memorable by the famous cler-
gyman, who was immortalized in an ancient poem as “on!

donGmkia." / Nathan Carver was rather beyond the initiate ‘
age, but was halo and strong, pious and industrionp,rpenevem

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and hopeful, cool in Judgment . and deliberate in. speech
and action. Having grown tired of civilized life, and feeling
the pioneer spirit strong within him, he. had resolved to build.
a, home for himself, and a fortune for those who should come
after him, in the wilds of the fax West. Accordingly, accom-
panied by his family, with his housahold goods contained in
two wagons, and with the Delaware Indian for. uguide, ho was
Du his way to the almost unknown region of Oregon.
Sarah Carver was of about the same age as her husband,
and possessed many of his chuztcteristics. She was a. “ well-
preeerved " woman. though a life of labor and care had 133
its lines upon. it face that. had once been handsome. Her
daughter, Ellen Carver, possessed beauty enough for thou/hole
‘fumily, beauty of the fresh, healthy, hearty, New England /
style. Her bright blue. eyes, hen rosy cheeks, her rich red lips,
~ and her dimplcd chin, had caused many a swuin to sigh in
her old home, and itsccmed a. pity that such sweatnessshmild
be wasted on the desert air, or be appreciated only by hot
, cousin Eben, whose ungainly- wdmimuou 0mm excited her
,A mirth.
David Carver, the son, was.- a. stalwart youth of twenty, 
- tive, hearty and iudustnious, with a. fiiir shame of intelligence,
with a. great love of advantgne, and with any amount oticours
age. Eben Gookin was. a. toll, angular,awkwardmppeurhg
, individual, who always seemed to be 1000 in the joints, and
, I looked asif he was confinrmhy outgmwing his clothes. Ila
' had left his home, as soon as he was old enough... and had en—
deaxored to see the world on a. whaling ship. Wheuhe retumr
I ed after a. long cruise, he concluded that he was tired of thth ‘
Vi ‘ amusement, and eagerly embraced the opportunity of? licova
‘ ‘ pnuying his uncle on his journey to the Wat, especially- on-
he had taken it great fancy to his fair cousin.
Tho Delaware was, like mostiof his tribe, an exoellentguldu
and hunter, a brave warrior, and a. man who took, pside in
_ «dealing justly with; his employers Under his. laudm‘ship, the .
‘: party had come thus far without any serious misadventure, . > ,
 x , gnd were slowly. traveling on the Oregon trail, from which , '
had tumedhaida, to we]; a. proper, campingng (at the : j

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In the midst of the broad prairie, by a spring of clear water,
from which asparkling little rivulet trickled away toward the
south-east. The wagons were soon brought within the pro-
tection of the timber, the horses were duly picketed and al-
lowed to graze, a fire was made, and Mrs. Carver and her
daughter, awkwardly assisted by Eben Gookin, applied them-
selves to the cooking of sundry pieces of buffalo-meat, which
speedily difi'used a. pleasant fragrance through the little camp,
Ind excited the appetites of the travelers. The savory repast
was soon spread before them, and, after Nathan Carver had
pronounced a rather elaborate “grace,” all fell to in earnest,
without any too scrupulous regard for knives and forks, and
made the bumps, ribs and tongues disappear rapidly. When
they had satisfied their appetites, pipes were produced, and
the men proceeded to digest their supper under the soothing
influence of the weed. The Delaware, after a few whifl's of
his pipe, took his rifle, and went to reconnoiter around the
camp.

“ Dam my buttons l” exclaimed Eben, as he stretched him-
self at full length upon the grass, “I do think that whalin’
ain’t a much to this here business. The sea is a big place, but
it’s too much the same thing, while there’s all sorts of variety
about these prairies, and, besides, you always have a good place
to come to anchor at when night sets in. It is mortal fine fun to

. kill a big whale, but buffalo huntin‘ has got more raalamusem

ment into it. Uncle Nathan, I wouldn't have missed goin’ on
this cruise for a bushel of dollars. ’Pears like I’ve growed out
of my boots, and I calkilate I’m the outeatinest critter that
ever lelt. the old Bay State.”

“ We have truly been blessed thus far,” answered Nathan
Carver, " and we owe our grateful thanks to the kind Provi-
dence who has spared our lives and preserved our health. Wei
are now well advanced on our journey, and we may reasonably
hope, if the same good hand shall guard and guide us, to soon
reach our destination in the land of toil and promise”

“ Provided always, uncle, as the lawyers say, that some

' Ineskin’ Injuns don’t drop in on us an’ steal our top-knots."

“ Against such, we must defend ourselves as best we can, ’
;with_the helper Providence _
fpdns in goodorder, and to maintains careful, watch, for the

It is our duty to keep our weep“

    
  
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
     

 

 

 

 
 

was: maroon. '11

Delaware informs us that we are approaching a dangerous re-
gion; that we are near the country of the Blackfeet.”

“ Beaver was tellin‘ me some yarns about those critters,
uncle, and he says that they are a little the p‘isonest Injuns
we are likely to meet."

“ Your speech savors of impiety,'nephew. I have no doub
that they are wicked and bloodthirsty men, but there is no 00
‘t'asion for the use of profanity in speaking of them."

“ I didn't mean to talk wrong, uncle Nathan, and beg your
pardon for slippin‘ up. Old habits will stick to a man, you
see, ’spcciaily such as he l'arns on a whalin’ v’y’ge. What
you say about tnkin’ care of our weapons is sart‘inly right, and
it reminds me that I must look arter my harpoon, for I calke-
late she needs sharpenin’. Isay, Dave, as you are nighest to
' that wagon, suppose you hand me my tickler. It is in the

stern of the craft, I believe, on the starboard side." ~

' “ Do you want the rope and all ?" asked David Carver, as

he good-naturedly rose to comply with his cousin‘s request;

' " Of course I do ; a whale-line needs overhaulin’ every
now and then, you see, to keep the kinks out, and to make it
run easy when it gits to wor ."

David handed his cousin an iron shaft, about six feet long,
one end of which was adorned with a polished barb, and the
other end was bent around, so as to afl'ord a holding place for
a long and light line, which was neatly coiled and fastened in
ship-shape manner. Eben selected a stone from the side of
the spring, laid his formidable javelin‘ on his lap, and com-
menced to sharpen the edge of the shining barb quite scien-
tifically.

“ That, now, is what I call a lovely instrument,” he said. re
garding the weapon affectionately. “ ’Pears like I should be
/ lost without it, and I’m glad I brought it along. It has been
- the means of shortenin’ the life of rnore‘n one whale, to my
sart’in knowledge, and it stands to reason that it wouldn't be
safe'for a buffalo or an Injun to git in the way of it.” '

“Why do you think so much of that neg thing, cousin
Eben P” asked Ellen, who was watching his proceedings with
interest. - “ Of what use can it be i” '

x ' “ ’Tain‘t a bit ugly, Miss sweetlips,” answered 'Eben. “ See

M here .shinin‘ steel; why, it is nearly as brighten your
‘ ‘ ' ' ' \ . , . _ t ‘ ’

 

 
 

   

  

eyes. , No, ’tain’t,,neither~; nothin! is as bright as them, unle.
it’s the stars above us, or the royal diamonds of the Ingeu.
You can see your purty face into it, jist as if it was a mirror,
and I wish you could look into itso hard. that your face would
stay there always."

“ Never mind my face and eyes, cousin Eben. I want - to
know how you expect to use your harpoon out here in the
w’lderness.”

“ Wa-al, in the fust place, speakin’ about its peaceable use,

I understand we are comin‘ to some rivers that are chock full.

of salmon at sart’in seasons- of the year, and then this nice lit-
tle instrument will git usmany a good breakfast and dinner.
Secondly, if it hadn’t been for uncle Nathan and the Dela-
ware, I might have speared many a buffalo with it, and bufl‘a‘
loes are wholesome food, I calkilate. Lastly, and to con:
clude, as the preachers say, if any of those Injuns come
foolin' around us, or tryin' to come any of their games over
you, my sweet little duck. this here little article will let day-
light through ’em quicker‘n you can say Jack Robinson.”

“ I. am not a little duck, or a little goose, and am sure that
I don’t belong to you. Suppose the Indian will not let you-
get near- enough to him to strike him with that ‘1’”

“ He had better keep a mortal good distance, if he don’t
want me to harpoon him. Do you see the knot in that tree
yonder, Nelly. P" continued Eben, rising and. pointing at-an oak
about twenty yamlsfromwhere he stood.

“ Yes; I see the knot. What of it?”

“ Wars], I don’t want to hit the knot, my beauty, 'cause it
might dull the edge of the harpoon; so I will strike jist above
‘t. Standby to let out the slack, and watch her shoot l”

The whaler rose to his full hight, his tall form appearing to

pan out by joints, somewhat after the fashion of a (33prle
ter's rule; drew back his long and brawny arm. carefully poised“
the harpoon for a few seconds, and then launched. it forward
"with tremendous force. It flew like an arrow from, the bow,
trneto thedirection that had been imparted to it, struck the
V tree justrabove the knot that he had-pointed out, and quiver;
ed as it stuck firmly in the‘solid oak; Daria Carver clapped

. > hirhands,.and even his'father ctmlcl‘ not repressr an- exam

 

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“It wouldn’t have been wholes'oin'ci’for an’Injun, if he but:
been standin’ where that tree is,” said Eben. “ Run and see
lfyou can pick out the harpo'on, Nelly."

The girl hastened to the tree, andsuccceded at last, by'using
her utmost exertions, in extricating the harpoon, which she
brbught back to its owner, who had been regarding her With
unmistaadole admiration.

" Sake: alive, Nelly l" he exclaimed, ‘_‘ you‘ve jist get llu
purtiest‘ feet and ankles that ever made the daisies open thch
eye's! Give me a kiss, now', for showin’ you that eight."

He bent down for the expected tribute, as' if it was a; mat-
ter of course, and was greeted With 0. bonn the ear, that
made him jump and turn around as if a bee had stung him,
while Ellen ran away laughing.

“Darn my buttons 1” he exclaimed. “That’s a little the
sassiest slap I ever got, whiéh is sayi11"consider-Able. How-
ever, some folks say that a box on the ear is. better than no
notice. Hark 1 What’s that?”

The report of a gun was heard, followed by a shrill Whoop’
or halloo. '

“ There must be Indians near us,” said Nathan Carver.
“ David, run and find the Delaware. Eben, stay here and help
the secure the horses.” v

David Carver seized his rifle, and hastened of through the
trees, while his father and Eben made preparations to defend

> the camp againfit an attack.

 

CHAPTER III.
As mam HAVE BEEN mmc'mn.

A!"Da'vid Carver reached the edge of the wood, are we:
wont to sally forth upon the prairie, to. learn the cause” of the
disturbance, a dark form 'rose‘ up from ‘the' grass" near him 
a‘hand laid, upon' .his shomder'arif'ested‘.‘ his rfipid course. He
turned, and recognized the'D‘elawarei'Indlan. _ . w, .V V H _

.-- wum dame-mater; newer?" unfineny'ad‘ch the“ yen};-

 

  

 

  
    
  
 
 
    
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
  

    

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man. “What did that shot and that yell mean? Are there
Indians about ?"

“ Black Beavr r thinks not. He don’t yell like Iniun. Wait
little bit, and maybe so we find out."

The Delaware again crouched in the grass, David Carver l

following his example, and both peered anxiously out into the
prairie, on which the dusk of evening was fast settling down.
Soon they were able to make out the figurehof a man, rid-

' ilg rapidly over the prairie in circles, and gradually approach-

ing the grove. As he came within hailing distance, he put
his hand to his mouth, and gave vent to that peculiar yell that
they had heard a short time before.

“Ugh l” exclaimed the Delaware.
man, sure enough. You jump up and yell.
know white man's voice.”

David accordingly rose to his feet, and yelled at the top of
his voice:

“ Hal-loo-oo i" came clearly across the prairie, as the stranger
drew nearer.

“ Halloo, yourself 1”

“ Are you white or red ?” \

“ White l”

“’5th he be white
Maybe so he

The stranger slowly rode up to the grove, balancing his '

rifle upon his saddle before him, as if he thought it not pos-
sible to use too much caution.
distinguish the form, dress and features of David Carver, he
slung his rifle, rode up quickly, and dismounted, giving his
hand to the young man.

The new-comer was a handsome young fellow, seemingly
about twenty-two or twenty-three years of age, with black.
curling. hair, black eyes, sun-_browned complexion, and an
upon, manly expression of countenance. He rode a splendid
noise, and was armed with a fine rifle, a pair of pistols, ands
huntingvknife. He wore dressed buckskin leggings. with
urge boots, a stout homespun hunting-shirt, and aslouched
mt: As he give his hand to Carver, the Delaware rose up
Tom the grass in which he had ‘been concealed, and the

'ptrangcr started back and laid his hand on his rifle. I. .
“ You needn‘t be scared at him, mister,” said David,f‘ for .

be is, only I fiendly Delaware, and belongs to our puny

\ I

When he was near enough to '

  

o 

 

 

  

A mum. 21

Where did you come from, and how did you happen to find
us out Y"

“ I thought he was a Delaware,” answered the stranger,
“ but I have been in this country, more or less, for several
years, and have learned to be suspicious. My name is Frank
Steele, and I belong: to a party that is ramped about a (102m:
miles frnm here. I was riding over the panic, when I caught
sight of your smoke, and naturally wanted to Know who yuu
were. I was quite sure that you were not Indians, for they I
would never have made such a smoke’; but it is well to he'(
c‘autious; so I fired a gun and gave a yell, to draw you ou‘
that I might see what you were made of. I“ as glad Ir. 1mm,
I assure you, that you are really white men. for I have under-
stood that the Blackfeet are getting thick in these parts.”

“ Black Beaver knows Cap‘n Steele,” said the Delaware.
“Good man, Cap’n Steele. Hope he is well."

“ What i is this you, Black Beaver ‘r" exclaimed the stranger. -
“ It is a long time since I have met you. You and your friend
must come over to our camp, for my father will be glad to see
you, and it will be safer for you than traveling alone.”

“ I am glad to meet you, sir," said young Carver. “ You must
stop and make our camp a visit; for the sight of a wuite face in
this wilderness will please our folks. You must be hungry,
and I think there is some supper left; if no‘ we can soon get
some ready."

“ Did Cap‘n Frank see Sign i” asked the Delaware.

' “None at all. I hear that some bands of Blackfeet are
prowling about, but have seen nothing to make me believe they
are in this neighborhood." .

“ If he make no sign. then Black Beaver not much ’fraid,“
said the Indian; as he followed the two white men .to the
cam) .

Frank Steele led his horse within the grove, and picketedit
with the rest. He was duly made acquainted with Nathan
Carver and the rest of the party, and, not strange to say, we:
4 so struck with the beauty of the brightweyed and rosy-checked
Ellen, that Eben Gookin felt it incumbent upon him to hand
his brows, and glare at the new-comer as if he Would take
pleasure in harpooning him. His sour looks were all  upon
Ml: who'had put himselt on good terms. in a very slim"‘

 

 
 

23.

time, not. mix with them: Ellen. but. with the rest of the
family. . "

 Carver soon had a fine buffalo-rib broiled, and some
flour cakes baked over the coals, of w, 'aich her handsome
visitor ate heartily, declaring that the cooking exceeded any
thing he had seen at his mtlier’s camp. This praise brought
ttz blushes into the good lady‘s face, and was also grateful to
Nathan Carver, who was always pleased when his w'u‘e was
commended. When he had finished his supper, he produced
his pipe, and conversed pleasantly with all, except Eben Goo]:-
in, who seemed determined to be as grufl' and unpleasant as
he knew how to be. The fact is, he had supposed, when he
followed Ellen Carver into the. wilderness, that he would have
a monopoly of the young beauty, and would not be bothered
and put out of countenance by any of the smooth-feud and
well-dressed beaux who, had so greatly disturbed his peace of
mind in Massachusetts. He had, too, hoped that the girl,
from sheer lack of other available young men, would be com-
pelled to accept him as a suitor, and, in due course of time,
as a husband. It was natural, therefore, that; he should feel
chagrined, and consider his rights invaded, when 8,. handsome
and evidently well-to-do young man, whose admiration of

‘ Ellen, was so apparent, entered their quiet circle, and threat
ened to completely upset his calculations.

As soon as Steele saw Ellen Carver, and perceived how
beautiful she was, how charming in every way, he immedi-
ately became very solicitoutsthat Nathan Carver and his pin-1y
should. upcompany him to the camp ~>3 Captain Steele, and
travel with that expedition as far as it might go intheir direpr
tion, He pictured the country as swarming with hostile
Indians, who were daily increusing in numbers and, modality},

and represented the attempt of so small a party to pass

through theneat that time, aslhazardous, in the extreme, His
fitmenhesaid, was in, commend of a, large party, which he.
had organized {or trading and trapping purposes. and which
wee abundantly able, to protect his new friends against all
dangers, He was sprathat they would be welcome, and. he

Wasted. his, eloque'nge in urgingthis project “mp-were.

atone not only, proper, but absolutely neeesaary' for dieitmfetg.
"Eire v14» struck Nathan Carve! Mommy. as. be bad, res-ion

    

 
    

 
 

  

A mm or:- msruns. 28

to believe them were hostile Indiausln the neighborhood, and
he feared for-his dear ones. He had already‘regretted that
he had undertaken such a long and perilous journey int) the
wilderness with such a small company, and was glad of a
chance to place himself under the protection of a larger and
more experienced party. Ilis wife and daughter also were
pleased with the idea, because they wished for company, and
were impressed by the good looks and easy manners of tho
young stranger. David, also, favored the move, leause he
shared his father’s fears; and the silence of the Delaware, as
usual, gave token of assent.

The only voice that was raised in opposition was that of
Eben Gookin, who denounced the proposition in a style that
was very impolite toward Steele, and quite oti‘ensive to all.

“ It jist seems to me,” said he——“ if you will allow a man
to talk who has sailed the see these seven year, and who
nught to know somethin' of the world—that you are all run-
nin’ crazy in a minnit. I always kalkilaled, uncle Nathan
shat you were a cool-headed, cautious, and slow-thinkin’ man.
not likely to rush off in this fashion, without lookin’ two
Inches ahead of your nose. I don’t wonder at Cousin Ellen,
who is always ready to start out afth every thiu’ new that
comes along, 'specially if it's in the shape cf :1, young man
or at Dave, who is young yet, and lackin’  experience; or
at the, Delaware, who cares precious little west becomes of
us, so long as he gits his pay ; but you, uncle. Nathan, who
have always been considered a. kin-fol and kalkilatin‘ man—I
wouldn‘t ever have thought that you could be led off in this,
way, and made to go to a place and people you don't know
nothin’ about. Who can tell who and what these £01159 31m ‘-”

'Wlio can say that they ain’t a band of thieves and pirates

worse than any red Injuus? Here comes a roller, nbquy
knows who, loatin’hi here, jist about nightfall, and youall
want to run off after him, without stoppin’ to ask whether
he's an honest man or a. rascal, and it’s surt’in that he
wouldn't he so anxious for you to go. if he didn't have scnie,
object into it.”

‘ bit l” exclaimed Frank Steele, who had been listening to

' .' this, nsrengue with flushed face and angry eyes. “Do you, _ -
mm to hint that my father and his party are a hand 01" ‘ ‘ \

 

 

   
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 

  

 

 

thieves and pirates? Do you mean to insinuate that I am a
,rascal, and that I want to swindle these good people ?"

“ There, now I Jist you keep off, if you don’t want to he
speared with this here harpoon. You. needn’t lay your hand
onto your pistol, for I can shoot this gun as fast as you can

' shoot that one.* What I’ve said is said, and I’ll leave it tc

uncle Nathan himself if there ain’t reason into it. You
needn't be castin’ sheep’s eyes towards the gal, 'cause she'
sin’t got the say-so in this matter, and I——” '

“ Hal ha! ha !" laughed Steele, who had been advancing
upon the tall man in a threatening manner. “I see what it
is that troubles you, and I forgive your rudeness. I can
assure you, however, my impolite and unhandsome friend,
that I have no evil designs against the young lady, and that
she will be as safe under my protection as—yourself."

Eben Gookin, now doubly indignant, raised his harpoon,
and Ellen screamed, when the Delaware stepped between the
young men, and pushed Eben back.

“ Hush, fool !” said he. “ There is no one crazy but you.
Black Beaver knows Cap’n Steele. He is a good man.
Cap'n Frank is a good man. It is enough; we will go.
Hold your tongue, fnr'may be so you have some other thing
to think ‘hout mighty soon. Black Beaver think he hear
Injun. Cap‘n Frank, you listen sharp.” ,

All were instantly hushed into silence, for the Delaware

V spoke very earnestly. Young Steele threw himself upon the

grass, and laid his ear to the ground. Directly, he started
up, exclaiming:

“ Get your guns! Take the women to cover! I believe
the wood is alive with Indians l” 7.

He had hardly spoken, when the little party was greet .: a
with a shower of arrows, mingled with the discharge of t 0.,
or three it‘usees. The white men knew that it was useless to /
fire at their unseen antagonists, and sought such cover as they
could find. A second discharge of arrows folk wed, and the
Indians rushed from their covert through the almost defense-
less encampment. They had intended a surprise, which they

effectually accomplished, and they were hardly seen, before
5 they disappeared, as they had good reason to fear" the titles
'of the whites. It was, with them. '

  

 

  

A SURPRISE.

A moment in the cam ,
A moment, and away

Nathan Carver, who had just placed his wife within her

wagon, Was struck down by a tomahawk, as he turned to
face the assailants. One Indian fell before the rifle of Black

, Denver, and David Carver had just wounded another, when

he was disabled by an em N that stuck in his arm. Frank

'Sleele turned to look for Ellen, and saw her seized and carried

ufi‘ by a stalwart savage. He hastened in pursuit, and was
about to blow out the red-man’s brains with his pistol, when
he was knocked down from behind, and was instantly picked
up and carried away, bruised and senseless. Eben Gookin,
as soon as he could collect his Scattered senses, also witnessed
the capture of Ellen, and also went in pursuit, when his way
was stopped by an Indian, who advanced upon him with up-
lifted tomahawk. As quick as thought, the long Whaler
raised his harpoon, and hurled it through the body of his aim
tagonist, stretching him lifeless upon the earth. As the barbed
instrument could not be immediately extricated, he found hims
self weaponless, until the savages were beyond sight and -
hearing.

As pursuit was impracticable, the little party took an no
count of their losses, and found them to be as follows: Nathan
Carver was severely hurt, and David was slightly wounded.
A few of the horses were wounded, more or less severely, and,

‘ what was worse than all, Ellen Carver and Frank Steele had

been carried oil‘ as prisoners. The Delaware examined the
bodies of the slain, and declared that they belonged to a band
of those dreaded enemies of the white man, the Blackfeet.

’ Without more delay, the horses were hitched to the wagons,
'n one of which Nathan Carver was placed, and the dimin-
. ehed hand,‘sad and dispirited, started out, under the guiianco
of Black Beaver, to seek the protection of Captain Steele's
camp. They reached it in safety, and the Delaware, accom-
panied by Eben Gookin, immediately hastened back to the
scene of their bloody surprise, to find and follow the trail of
the Blackfeet.

 

  

 

  

CHAPTER IV.
STRIP-FED or ms HONORS.

AFTER the pleasant moonlight walk, which was followed
by the encounter with the fierce and wrinkled old As—moo-tah
Kotselo and his Star-in-the-grass, as he called the pretty
La~la-, did not meet for a while. The young wife of the Fat
Bear remained in her lodge, listening, as patiently as she
could, to the threats and imprecations of the hag, and be-
moaning her unhappy condition. Kotselo wandered about,
like a lost and copper-colored spirit, nursing his wrath against
Nip-muck-we, and wondering how poor La—la fared in her
seclusion.

The second morning after that eventful evening, brought
V . the return of N1p-muck-‘we and the young men who had ao-

companied him, ostensibly for a hunt, but really to waylay,

rob and murder some small or detached party of emigrants or
traders. They returned, but the warriors did not enter the
/ village, remaining at a short distance from the lodges, throw-
ing their weapons upon the ground, and standing in mournful
silence, waiting to be invited to their homes. Evidently, there
was omething wrong, for, if the expedition had been entirely
successful, the Fat Bear and his party would have poured
.triumphantly. into the village, uttering yells and shouts of ex-
ultation, and boastfully displaying the scalps that they had
taken.

This was no indication, however, that they had not achieved
[notable victory, for, according to the Blackfeet custom, al-
though an expedition might have been very successful, still,

, K a warrior had fallen, his death cast a- cloud over the- afl‘uir,

' and his companions considered themselves personally responsi-
ble for his loss, never returning to their lodges until invited to
do so by his relatives.

The entire population, men, women and children, went out

In meet the returning braves, with dolefnl forebodings of ill.

(luck. The extent of the calamity was soon made kno'wn‘:—- ’-

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two men’ had? been» slain, and another was“ brought ham€“
sure-rely wounded. Nip-m’uck-We had surprised an emigrant"-
, camp, but had- not reaped the entire fruits of his victory, for?
'1" he had lost two of ' his men, through lack of generalship our
" ' his own part. Although he had found the camp unguarded,»-
he had found its inmates wide awake, and hadmet with
I warm reception. He had, also, overrated their strength, a: h
might have exterminated the party.
Then chaired a " scene which baflles description. The
’v Women and children, especially the relatives-of the deceased,
tore their hair and garments, cast away their tinsel ornaments,
: and filled the air with such horrible screechings and howlings,
’ ‘ as'eouid only have been heard in Bedlam, in the days of
e , chains and dungeons. The crestfallen warriors stood motion-
less, with downcast heads and sorrowful countenances, until
the clamor at last subsided, when they were taken hy-the hand
) , and invited to enter the village.
1 ’ '1‘ They had broughthome two prisoners, a young man and a
1" beautiful girl, who, as may he surmised, were none other than .
Frank Steele and? Ellen Carver. The grief-stricken women:
demanded that these should be instantly immolated, to appease
the mam-s of their fallen relatives; but the chief had no idea '
, of putting to- death-such a handsome girl as‘Ellen, and he told
' ‘ the people that he would reserve Frank for the present, until V
their revenge could he made complete. Accordingly, the girl
, ‘ ' was taken to a; lodge; where she was carefully guarded, and
‘x ’ ‘ young Steele Was‘ignominiously tied to a tree, to be cursed,
’ jeered at and vexed, by the angry old women'and their imp: ‘
of children.
‘Nip—muck-we'returned' in a: very bad humor. Indeed, the
1 , Fat Bear might well have been termed, that morning, the
Bear-with-a-sOre-he'ad, for he was as cross and uncomfortable
at any unfortunate bruin that ever climbed for a- honeycomb
, and excited the“ indignation of the belligerept bees. As soon
l as=hehadperformed his pressing duties as chief, he listened. ,
3 , eagerly'to oldiAe-moo-tah3s account, told with abundant ex.
  aggeratitms;iof the'meeting' between Kotselo and-La-la, oftel
‘ ’ which, he entered the lodge of the offending female, and had‘
aestormy-‘tinsedudglng’by what could be“ heard ou- the out-
‘  Mam-tillde 75‘,

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stamp on his wife's jewelry, and throw her poodle dogout of

, the window, because there were no fragile dishes, no jewelry,

and no poodle dog appertaining to the lodge; but he scolded
her vigorously in the Blackfeet dialect, pulled her hair, tore ofi‘

' her ornaments of brass and tinsel, and ended by striking be!

such a violent blow in the face, that it knocked her senseless.

This exhibition of passion did not tend to put him in any
better humor with himself or the rest of Indiankintl, and it
might have been supposed that he would soon come into col-
Lion with Kotselo; but, he did nothing of the kind.~ The
fact is, the Fat Bear, who had grown so fat that he was al-

’ most unmanageable, was something of a Coward, and he well

knew that he would come off second best,‘ in case of a personal
conflict with the young and active warrior. Therefore, he
prefe.red to wait, expecting to secure his revenge in some
other manner.

Kotselo, in common with other warriors, felt that the vi]-
lage had been disgraced, as well as injured, by the manner

I ' in which the chief had conducted his expeditian, and be
burned to avenge the death of his comrades, and retrieve the ‘

lost laurels of the band. He was ardent and fond of adven«
ture, and anxious to distinguish himself on the war-path, and
was already known and honored as a skillful leader, as well'
as a brave and successful warrior.

' , He did not waste time in thought, but as soon as the first

fierce ebullition of grief had. subsided, and the noise of the
lamentalions had died away, he went to his tent, arrayed him-

self in his war-paint and costume, mounted his best horse. *
bearing a. long pole with a red flag at the end, and the tir

trimmed with eagles’ feathers, and rode around among the
lodges, singing his war-song.

This was the Blackfeet method of drumming up recruits for .

a war-party, and Kotselo‘s peripatetic enlistment oflice was em-

inently successful, for warrior after warrior mounted his horse '

and fell into his train, all continuing the march among the
lodges, and singing the war-song, until ‘he had at his com-
mand a dozen of the best and bravest young men in the

‘ , village. .
The red-plumed warrior, as the one who had organized the ’

party,“ its'rlghtfiilvleador, and those who nucleoli-ted under

 

 

 

 

 

metronome. :9

him were entirely willing to be commanded by him, for they
had the highest respect for his courage and sagaeity, and they
longed to distinguish themselves, as well as to bring home
scalps to hang in the deserted lodges of the fallen.

Kotselo, having completed his company, made them a little
speech, after the manner of a militia’ brigadicr, and went to
his lodge to procure his weapons, and make other prepara-

tions for the expedition. He was gone only a short time, but

when he returned, he found his followers grouped together in
silence, and casting upon him compassionate looks as he ap-
proached. His horse was gone, and its warlike accoutermcnts
were scattered on the ground.

The mystery was soon explained : Nip-muck-we, the chief,
had taken possession of the young werriors’ horses, including
the animal that was to bear him on the expedition, and had
turned them in among his own, thus appropriating them to
himself.

It was enough l a young and ambitious warrior could hardly
be more thoroughly disgraced. No Major-General, relieved
of command on the eve of an important campaign, which he
had planned and matured with the greatest care, could feel
the indignity more acutely than this red-skinned commander of
twelve men. Kotselo felt as if he could give vent to his mor-
tification and disappointment in a burst of tears, but it would
never do for a warrior‘to exhibit such weakness. He con-
trolled his feelings, and walked away, with proud but sorrow-
ful bearing. He could not help himself; the chief might do
as he pleased, and was irresponsible ; there was no law of reple-
vin in the wilderness. '

He went to his lodge, washed off his paint, laid aside all
his war-costume and ornaments, except his long, red piuir ,
md strolled sadly out into the timber, where he sat down 11 .
der 8. tree, to commune with his owr' bitter thoughts. ‘

The motive of the chief was plain: he wished to humiliate
the young warrior, and punish him for the tender feelings that.
he was supposed to entertain for Lat-la, He had taken the
meanest, as well as easiest and most effectual means of ac'comm
plishing this object, and Kotselo deeply felt the disgrace that had
been so wrongfully cast upon him, \ He was anunhorsed and , -
dishonored warrior; all 'the "deeds by ‘which he 

 

   

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distinction would count for nothing; all that he Nightmares! - er
do would not restore him to his position in the tribe ; his that

~ could not be set upon the war-path, nor could hisvvnice be
heard by the council-tire. As far as the objects which alone
have value in the eyes of an Indian are concerned, he was a
ruined man,and his life seemed worthless to him. Whilehe so;
and brooded over his wrongs, he inwardly resolved that he Would
not be a dog or a sqnaw among the Blackfeet, but would leave
them, and seek refuge in some hostile tribe, where his manly vin-
tucs would be properly appreciated. Benedict Arnold in his may
ments of passion, thought that he was justified, when he' by-
trayed his country for far less cause; can the ignorant Indian
be blamed for resolving not to submit to nnmerited degradation,
and for becoming a renegade?

He had hardly formed this resolution, when he saw 144L513!
approaching along the forest-path. She had a bundle of
sticks on her shoulder, and her face was bound up with an
ominous bandage. In an instant, all. the love that he really
felt for her rushed to his heart like a revelation, and flew from
his heart to his lips and eyes. He then know that his, afi‘eo-t
tion was not such as it had been when she was the compan-
ion of his childhood—that he did not love her as a. sister, but
withsuch passion as can exist only between man and woman.

“ Has the Fat Bear made her his drudge 1'" he angrily!
thought “ Must she bring wood and, water, and carry burdens,
and work like any common squaw it It is too bad; ihfithulghr
ter of a great warrior should not be treated so meanly, Why.
is that bandage on her face? Has she fallen, or has that dog.
beaten her? She shall sufl‘er no longer. I will leave the,
Blackfeet and she shall go with me. We will go where I can
love her and take care of her.” I

He ran to meet her, and startled her by the earnestnesanjtk,
which be seized her hand and snatched the bundle of sticks
from her shoulder.

“ What does this mean, my Star-in-the-grass ?" he asked,
“ Does Nip-muck-we force you to carry bundles, like a. com:
mon squaw ? What a the matter, with your face? Hutu

,  struck you with his. claws ?” t

With many tears. and in at trembling voice, Lactation: bow-

wnsd  abuses-l undilltreated by’au attenuan In .

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\hed struck her to the earth. The young warrior clenched
hands, and ground his teeth as‘he listened. '

“ He shall never do so again !” he exclaimed, in' tones that ,
were rendered harsh by passion. “You shall fly with me.
Lu-la, and we will soon be far beyond his reach. He has
done me a great wrong to-day. I had collected the bravest
at our young rnen, and was about to lead them on the war-
puth, when Nip-muckswe took my horses and placed them
with his oWn, and called them his. What could I do? 11:,
fl a. chief, and I could not say a word. He means to disgraci.‘
me, and to make inc :1 squuw where I have been a warrior.
But I will bear it no longer; I will fly to some other tribe,
where I will be free, and where a warrior is not treated as a
child. You shall fly with me, my Star-in-th‘e—grass, and the
Fat Bent shall never touch you with his creel claws again
Are you ready? Shall we go to-night ?"

Leda only replied to this earnest appeal by covering he“
face with her hands. and bursting into tears.

“ Speak to me i“ implored Kotseio. “ Let us go, and y‘ofl'
will be happy at last, and will carry no more burdens for Ni}
muck-we.”

“Kotselo may go,” sobbed La-la, as if heartbroken.
must go, but La-‘ls must stay.” ‘ t

“ Think how he has abused you, what blows he has given
yon, and follow me where you will be loved and treated with
kindness." '

“ Kotselo may go ; La-la must stay,” answered the weeping
woman, as she tool: up her bundle of sticks and wslhed to-'
ward her lodge. . .

The young warrior folded his arms, and looked after he: in
gloomy silence untfl she was out of sight.

I! B“\

 

 

 

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~  :-

C H A P T E R V .
AN ORIGINAL CHARACTER.

; Tmmn was a gay and glorious time in the camp of Captain
Steele, during the day on which his son, Frank, started on the
scouting expedition which ultimately brought him within
the Blackfeet village as a prisoners A large band of friendly
Indians, of the Néz Percé, or Pierced Nose tribe, with their
wives and children, had recently encamped in the neighbor-
hood, and, as they still retained a quantity of their last sea-
son’s peltries, and promised to be useful during the ensuing
campaign, the captain hoped to drive a profitable trade with
them. They were quiet, peaceable, well-meaning Indians,
whose chief faults were their great curiosity, and their pro-
pensity to beg.

Captain Benjamin Steele was a Missourian, about fifly years
of age, strong, healthy and good-natured. He had been in the
fur-trading business for many years, and had accumulated quite
a fortune, but he still clung to it, from love of the excitement
and adventure which it afforded. His most prominent trait
was, an overpowering love for his son, Frank, whom he had
brought up to the same business, and who took to it, the cap
tain said, as naturally as a beaver takes to water.

Captain Steele had been still more overjoyed, that morning,
by the arrival of a party of free trappers, who came to the
camp riding at full speed, firing their guns, yelling and whoop-
ing. and acting as much like wild Indians as it was possibl.
for white men to act.

They were a strange and motley crew, and made even Cap-'
tain Steele and his experienced hunters, half-breeds and Dela-
wares, open their eyes to the widest extent. If he could so.
cure the services of these roving blades during the ensuing
season, the captain felt that he would have a great advantage
over all other trading competitors ; therefore, he used his utmost
endeavors to propitiate them and keep them at his camp. They
were real ‘gamecocks of the_ wilderness. who all thought

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themselvcea head and shoulders K have the “ pork-caters" from,
the States. They were dressed in great variety of costume,
all of them imitating the Indian style to a great extent, or ex-
aggerating upon it most outrageously. They were extremely
free and easy with Captain Steele, and with all the members
of his command to whom they considered it worth their while
to speak. All were ready to purchase any thing and every
thing, and the captain, who was well supplied with the proper
goods for such traffic, opened his bales, and was soon busy,
' \ With his assistants, in supplying their manifold wants. Money
or no money, it made no difference to them"; they were bound
to have what- they wanted, and the captain was glad enough
to supply them, in consideration of securing their services for
the coming trapping season. They purchased largely, articles
that were’uset‘ul, articles that were ornamental, and articles
that were neither, and scattered their purchases lavishly among
the Indian women of the neighboring camp, who, learning
that a party of these gay and festive sons of the mountain had
arrived, came thronging over to see them, and to pick up some
of the prizes that they were always ready to distribute. Some
of the trappers had their Indian vives with them, and it was
noticeable that they made very w presents to the other wo-
' " men, and the few that they made were given very slyly and
feart'ully. Could it be possible that the gamecocks of the
wilderness were henpeeked? '

‘ The trappeis brought with them tales of Indian “sign”
that, they had seen at several points along their route, and re-
ports of large bodies of Blackfeet that were gathering at the ;
westward and southward, for the purpose of molesting the.
trappers, trading parties, and Indians friendly to the whites.
The new-comers, however, were not themselves troubled m

xeit-ed by the reports that they had brought; they had joined(
themseives to a strong party, and had no fear of any attack ;
it was yet some time before the trapping season would oom-
mcnec, and it was one of their mottoes that “ sufficient for the
day is the evil thereof.” Captain Steele did not feel as easy

- on the subject- as his new allies did, and his son, Frank, sha
ing the apprehensions of his father, judged it best to under- '~
take a reconnoitering expedition, for the purpose of visiting:

swine, and  whether it had been disturbed: and of

 

    

 

-,

.J‘u

4
-.

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
     

 

I

9‘ ran Puma

inquiring into the truth of the report that hostile Indians
were in the neighborhood As has been seen,,it was not long
before he discovered, by unpleasant experience, that the report
was true.
That night, in order still further to coneiliate his new friends,
. and to gain their good-will, Captain Steele gave a grand
.‘ “ blow-out,” at which large amounts of alcohol and honey
and unlimited quantities of buffalo-meat, were disposed or,
greatly to the satisfaction . of all concerned. The trappefl
voted Captain Steele a “jolly good fellow," and they “ walked ~
into" the eatables and drinkables, in the styleof men who had
undertaken to eat and drink as much as possible in the short-
est possible time. The result was, a vast deal of noise, boast- 7 I .-
ing and rhodomontade, and a few private fights. The afi‘air H ‘
passed off in a reasonably quiet manner, however, the influence » '
of Captain Steele being sufficient to prevent the occasional en-
pounters from spreading until they attained the proportions
of a general or “ free” fight, and nearly all had settled down g 1
upon the ground, before daybreak, to sleep 03‘ the effects of
their exertions and their strong potations. ,
There was one free and independent trapper present, who, ,i
as a type of his class, and as being intimately connected with -
this tale, deserves a slight description. He was not one of the
gay and rollicking party that had arrived in the morning; but
had been traveling with Captain Steele for nearly two Weeks,
and had been intimately acquainted with him for years. In
dress, habits and disposition, however, he was as much a
roving son of the mountains as any of them. Bill Bush was.
a‘ man of about forty-five years of age, rather short and stout,
active and athletic, and the proprietor of a very sharp pair of
_ 1 eyes, and of a nose which, as he boasted, could smell an In.
t» ' dian trail .or a beaver-track a mile ofi‘. He Was dressed in a
long, leather hunting-skirt, reaching to the knee, curiously
Stamped, and ornamented with a profusion of bright colors and
I with gaudy fringes on the collar and sleeves; loosely fitting
' ~ leggingSJringed with partimlored ribbon. and ornamented with v
», ; , miniature bells;.moceasinsofthebestquality,quaintly embroid-
l ' ,‘ared with beads by the careful hands of some Indian woma'n 5 a
 \ a belt of scarlet leather. in which were placed a despair for,
 -mli.va.slm¢rinz knita. end an Indian pm; and spanner «_

I

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
   
  
 
 

  
   

 

 

 

 

' 7,-—

 

 
    
  
 

A rndxm‘mwv. ' , 85- 7

of beavebskin, turned up at the edges, and sunnotuned bya
circlet of eagle’s feathers. His black hair was allowed to '
grow to great length, and those portions immediately behind
his ears were carefully plaited and adorned with ribbons.
When it is added that his rifle was also highly ornamented,
and that his black horse was strangely streaked with white,
and covered with a profusion of feathers, gewgaws, and other
grotesque trappings, we have a. tolerably accurate picture of
this’dandy of the wilderness, who was also a perfectly finished
trapper and hunter. It is not to be supposed that he did not ‘
sometimes moult his fine feathers during his long and solitary
trapping excursions; but it is certain that he always renewed
them during the summer seasons, when he visited trading
camps for the purpose of selling his peltries procuring sup-
plies, making a display of himself, and having a grand ,
carouse. ,
Billy Bush had noticed, with feelings of. envy, as well as of
admiration, the wives of the free trappers, most ofthetn quite

L good-looking, who, splendidly attired in their fine robes, and

Covered with a. great variety of dazzling ornaments, were
gracefully prancing and dashing about on their gayly capari-
soned steeds, the long braids of their hair streaming out onthe
breeze “witha perfect looseness.” lIe admired these belles
of the wilderness, who looked and acted as if they owned
their lords and all the rest of creation, and regretfully thought
of the time when he had called himself the proprietor of such
a red-skinned beauty, who loved and ruled him, and whom
he was glad and proud to supply with all articles of "personal.
adornment that suited her wayward fancy, and that he could
oossihly procure in the wilderness. When he was full of eatp

\ I g and drinking, he felt that he could not be satisfied, unless

' ; procured another wife very soon. With this idea upper-
..,ost in his head, he sought' Captain Steele, and stated his iri-
wntion. ‘

“ All right,” said the captain, “if you can find a wife to
suit you. There are plenty of NEZ Percé girls, and you have
only to speak to the chief, who will deliver to you whichever
oneyou may take a fancy to. If you want any presents, for.

' V the girl or her folks, justvcall on me, and I’ll fit you out.”
' s -: "JV-ink wanes“?- replied the 

  
 

  

  
 

/ an» nun.

a notion to hang onto this hoss, she and her folks will hev’ to
wait for presents till I git ready to give ’em. I know how to
manage the critters, for I’ve been hitched afore, to  gal what
these yere uns wasn’t a gopher-hide to her beaver-skin. 1 bed
to leave her once, bein’ I was goin’ into a kentry as was dan- ,
gowns-like, and I was gone so long, that she ’lowed I’d been ‘
rubbed out, and hitched herself to another chap. But that‘s
neither yere nor thar'. I don‘t want one of these ’ere N epercy
gals, ’cause the Nepercys are blamed cowards, ’cordin’ to‘ my {4
Way of thinkin’, and I don’t mean to hev’ none of that sort "
hangin’ about me. The fact is, Cap’n Steele, I’m goin’ to
light out in the mornin’, and I mean to hunt a Blackfeet damp _

, somewhar’, and pick me a good gal outen that lot, a gal what
don’t come of a sneakin stock.”

“ A Blackfeet camp I” exclaimed the captain. “ You had
[utter be careful what you do, or you may get yourself into ,
trouble, for the Blackfeet won't let a white man live nowadays,
if they can get his scalp.” 1

“ They won’t be apt to scare this base, cap’n, and Lhain’t
no call to be afeard of ’em, ’cause I know thar’ ways, and they
know me too well to try to lift my ha’r. Besides, they‘ll jest
jump at the chance of gettin’ one of thar’ gals slung along-
side of Bill Bush, who’s as good a hunter and trapper as that’
is in these parts." ~

“ Very well, Bill; you know your own business best, and I
will not pretend to advise you. I can only wish you good
luck, and hope that we may see you safe back again.”

Captain Steele wondered that Frank did not return, but he
was not uneasy about him, as the young man was experienced '
in life in the wilds, and had often been absent from the camp
lbr days at a time. Before daylight, however, the remnant of
Nathan Carver’s party, led by Black Beaver, arrived at the
camp, and told the tale of the nig'ht attack of the Blackfeet, in
which Ellen Carver and Frank Steele had been captured,‘and
carried off. '

Captain Steele was highly indignant, and oppressed with
anxiety, for he knew that the savages would show, no mercy
to his son, especially if they discovered who he was. He
wished to form a party immediately, 'to go in pursuit of the

'maranders; but. his men and their new fi-iends had not yet

 

.t'l

THE some, snoonn THOUGHT.

slept 0117 the efi'ects of their carouse, and he was dissuaded
_ fiom hasty action by Bill Bush. ‘

“ It seems strange," said the trapper, “how the boy could
hev’ been picked up that a-way, fur I taught him Injun ways
and Injur. fightin’; and yet, it ain’t so strange, either, ’cause he
was caught in new company, and, what’s wuss, along with a
gal. That’s what gits a man inter scrapes. This hose be
lieves—come to think it over—that he won‘t tie on to another
Woman jest yet, when thar’s sech a good chance of gittin’ hi!
na’r lifted. I will start out right away, cap’n, and look arm
the Blackfeet. That thar’ Delaware and a Yankee chap hev'
gone to hunt the trail, and it will be strange if some of us
don’t bring you news afore long. I must say that I don't
feel afeard about the boy, ’cause he’s up to trap like an old
beaver, and it will take a smart Injun to git ahead of himt
You ken send out sech men as you want to, but, so far as this
boss is concerned, he allows to travel alone}?

Just as the day began to dawn, Bush mounted his horse
and left the camp, his rifle resting on the saddle before him,
and his two bright'eyes taking in the whole expanse of prairie
as he rods.

0 H APTE R VI.
’THE <RENEGADE.

Kareem, after La-la had left him, stood for some time with
his arms folded, lost in thought, and a. prey to powerful emc

ms. He knew that he was mined ,nnd degraded as a war
' or, and conceived that she for whom he now coni'essed such
in absorbing love, had forsaken him and cast him off in the
hour of his trouble. He knew not what to do, but lie-felt
«selfless, and ready to seize the first desperate chance that
might ofi'er. . -

In this frame of mind, he returned to the village, and was
[informed that he had been appointed to guard the prisoner.
A Frank Steele, during the night. The young warrior felt that

this was an additional indignity, a species of drudgery that:

 

 

'~ j! an’n stuns.
was pLit upon him by Nimenek-we, for the purpose of 11th
ating him and lowering him in his own estimation and in that
of the tribe. Nevertheless, he went to his station, sullenly
and in silence, and thought how he could best take revenge
for the insults that had been heaped upon him.

Frank Steele was sitting under an oak, with his hands and
feet securely tied, and his body bound to the trunk of the tree.
His position had been an unpleasant one, and his suffering hav’ ’
haen increased by the continual annoyance of the old worm J
and children, who had amused themselves by spitting in his
face, pinching his skin, striking" him with sticks, and wreaking
their spite in every practicable way. He had also been as-
sured that he would certainly be put to death on the marrow,
the chief having consented that the friends of those who had
been slain should then satisfy their vengeance. EsCape was
impossible, as he could not loosen his limbs from their bonds;
certain death stared him in the face. Notwithstanding this
gloomy prospect, he felt relieved when the crowd of ugly
lwomen and screaming children had left him, and endeavored
to forget his pains and troubles in sleep. He had sunk into
a doze when Kotselo came to take the place of the Indian
who had been standing guard over him.

The red-plumed warrior, seeing that the prisoner was sleep~
lug, and that he was securely bound, took no further notice
of him, but walked aside among the trees, with folded arms,
communing with his own thoughts. The passions of love and
revenge were sufficient to fill his breast, to the exclusion of
every thing else. . '

The irisoner and his guard were on a Wooded knoll, one
of the fiIrst of the waves in which the land rolled back from,r
the' valley to the open prairie. Below them, a piece of
inca iow‘ land, dotted with tall trees, stretched to the river. lug,
the meadow a. number of horses, were picketed‘, some of them
grazing, and some lying down. The'night Was clear, although
there was no moon, and objects below could easily be dis

tinguished. ' .

As Kot’selo paced his lonely round, gazing dreamin at the
shining surface, of the river, he noticed a man WaIking' 
{he horses. Thinking it strange that any one shOuld Name
at that hour, I‘m stepped 'to' the brow or as; his?! m  ,

 

s .

 

 

 

 

 

11m ‘

  

amnion

looked more carefully. As he did so, a thrill passed through
him, for he thought that he recognized his bitter enemy, the
chief Nip-muck—we. Partly descending the hill, he gained a
closer view, and was convinced that his impression was cor-
rect. Yes; there was no mistaking the ungainly form and
waddling gait of the Fat Bear, who was moving slowly
about, examining the horses, and muttering to himself.

The heart of Kotselo grew hot, and his dark eyes gleamed,
as he watched the destroyer of his fame. What an oppor-
tunity to take an ample revenge for the wrongs that he had '
aud‘ered at the hands of the chief, and for the wrongs that
La-la had suffered! As he thought of the bandaged face of
his Star-in-the—grass, and thought of the ignominions position
in which he had been placed by the envious and jealous Bear,
his indignation became more fierce,and he laid his hand upon
his knife, as he crouched in the shade of a tree. It needed
but a little more provocation to whet his appetite for revenge,
And impel the crouching tiger to make his spring; and that
provocation was soon supplied.

The chief shortlyycame to a horse which Kotseio recognized
[as one of his own, as the animal which was to hear him on
the war-path that day, and of which he had been so uncere-
moniously deprived. On this horse Nip-muck-we laid his
hands, stroking it as if he felt the pride of ownership. ' The
heart of the red-plumed warrior took-fire  an instant; he I
clutched his knife with a tighter grasp, and glided down into
the meadow under the cover of the trees. Then he stole
quietly along, mingling with the animals, and crouching, at '
times, on the grass, until he reached the horse by which the
chief was standing. After a moment’s hesitation, he rushed
upon him with his knife. Two blows were suflicient to com-
plete the bloody work, and the Fat Bear fell to the ground
with a groan. Satisfied that he had secured his revenge, the
young warrior hastily collected some branches and grass, with
which he covered the body of Nip-muck-we, and then sped
back to the village. '

Reaching the lodge that was occupied by La-la. he put

, aside the folds of skin hanging over the entrance, and saw the V
, Indgkinned beauty sated-with her race buried in her hands..~

1 . «sweeping bitterlyu, Thls‘sight tired in. blood sen  ' ‘3' ‘ S"

v .

 

RED FLUKE.

and caused him to feel better satisfied with the retribution (a
just one, as he deemedit) that he had visited on her husband
and persecutor.

Making a slight noise, to attract the attention of La-la, he
beckoned to her, quickly and eagerly, for he dared not speak,
as old As-moo-tah was sleeping in the lodge. La-la started,
and looked up at him with a wondering/stare, seeming, for a
moment, frightened and irresolute. But there was something
In the ex pression of his bright eyes, and in his earnest, appeal-

‘ing gesture, that compelled her to rise and go to meet-him,

whether she wished to or not. As soon as she was outside
the tent, he seized both her hands, and led her to a secluded,
spot, a short distance from the lodges, where he spoke to her
in low but ardent and impassioned tones.

“ My Star-in-the-grass is free to fly with me now,” he said,
“ for the Fat Beer is dead, and will never trouble her any
more. I said that he should never strike La-la again, and
my words Were true, for my knife has slain him this night.
I sawlhim walking among my horses, the horses that he had
taken from me. I thcught how he had wronged me, how he

‘ had sought to change a warrior into a squaw ; I thought how
he had wronged my Star-in-the-grass, how he had beaten her,
as if she was a dog; my heart was hot, and blood was before
my eyes. I leaped upon him, and struck him down with my
knife, and he will trouble us no more. for he is dead. I must
fly now, and have come to say to Lat-1a that she must fly with
me. Come; we have no time to lose, for we must be far
from the village before the morning dawns. V

The red-skinned beauty made no answer, but hung her
head, and wept bitterly.

“ I have done nothing wrong,” protested Kotselo. “ It
was an act of justice. The Great Spirit struck the Fat Bear

‘ by my hand. I have shed blood, but it was justly shed.
Come, my Star-in-the-grass; this is no place for us now; let
us hasten to fly." ~

“No, no, no," sobbed La-la, as she hid her face in her
hands. “ Kotselo must fly, for the avengers of blood will ’be I
whistraii;but1cannotgo." / ' I;

The young. warrior folded his arms, and gazed 3‘  4

monrnfully butprondly, as he turned away.

 

i

“We as ILL wmu," mo. ‘ 41

 

“ Then Kotselo will go alone," he said. “ The avengers of

, blood will be on my trail, and I shall not care if they slay

me, for I shall be alone. You will live, and will be safe, but - ,
I will die, and you will forget me.”

, 1 As he slowly walked away, La-la removed her hand from .

l :‘ her face, threw back her streaming hair, and, with a wild cry,

 

p . .
,  r rushed to 1115 Slde.

»_ ' ' “ Kotselo shall not go alone i" she exclaimed. “ Wherever '_
 , he goes I will go. if the avengers of blood slay him, they 
  . _ must slay the “H”. I am ready."

" ‘ Pressing her to his breast for a moment, the young warrior

took her hand, and hastened in the direction of the meadow
in which the horses were pastured. When he reached the
knoll from which he had first seen the chief walking among
' the horses, and came to the tree to which Frank 'Steele was '
. bound, a sudden thought seemed to strike him, and he step-
_;‘ I ped up to the priwr, and quickly cut his thongs.
, r Frank was asleep when the red-man returned, but woke in
surprise as soon as he was freed of his painful and inconveni-
ent bonds. He stared at the warrior, but could not compre- .
hend the meaning of this strange proceeding.
“ Come with me," said Kotselo. “ You are free. Be
quick. Horses are below, and you must lose no time.”
Young Steele then understood that, by some strange dispen- I
. nation, a friend had heed raised up to him among his enemies,
f that his life was to be spared, and he was to be released from
i“ f' captivity. As he rose to his feet, and stretched his cramped
' 3 . ' limbs, he thought of his fellow-prisoner, pretty Ellen Carver,
und felt that he could not go, and leave her in the power of
the savages.

 

 

[‘  ~ “ I do not know what this means,” he said, “ but I thank
,  you, and am glad to go. But there is a young lady here,
" ', , » who was taken captive and broughtto the village with me.

5'- HI can see her, and take her to her parents, it will be far

better than saving my own life.”

, “ Kotselo does not know where she is,” replied the Indian,
I “ and we have no time to seek her. I have killed the chief,
and the avengers of blood will soon btxon my trail. Yon ‘ /'
may fly with us, and we may be safe; if you stay here, you ,

' can not help-the white maiden, andyou will die.“ I , *'_ A- ,,

     
 

 
 

 

42. 1‘ nan FLUKE.

Steele stood for a few moments, looking around. mesolntely,
end then concluded that the Indian was right, that he could
do nothing, single-handed, to aid Ellen, but could only make
his escape, and bring a strong force to her rescue. ’ V

“ You speak truly," said he. “ Lead on, and I will 5.1-
row."

Swiftly and silently, and still holding the hand of Ls-la,

‘ he young warrior hastened down to the plain, where the
horses were grazing quietly. Selecting two of the finest, he
placed the young woman on one of them, and mounted the
other himself, while Steele also made his choice from among
them. '

'As soon as they were mounted, they rode down the bank
of the stream for a short distance, guiding their horses with
the picket ropes, and then struck‘ofl' into the open prairie.

For hours they rode on in silence, or nearly so, very few
words being spoken between them. Tlifindian woman was
quietly happy in feeling that she was free, and that her lover

’ was safe from pursuit; Kotselo meditated about his love and
his revenge; and Frank Steele was entirely occupied with
thoughts of pretty Ellen Carver, whom he had been com~-'
pelled to leave behind in the power of the red-men. There

_ was no help for it, however, and he consoled himself with
the thought that they would not be likely to injure her, and
that he might soon be able to effect her release.

They rode rapidly, desiring to put as much distance as
possible between themselves and those who might be pursue
ing, Steele had taken his bearings carefully, and guided the
party in what he supposed to be the direction of his father’s
camp. They. often looked back, to watch for signs of pur~
u-uit, but they saw no human being on the broad prairie, un-
bll the sun was nearly two hours high. Then an exclamation
from Kotselo attracted their attention to a small speck that '
was slowly approaching them, from the direction in which
they were proceeding.

As it drew nearer, they made it out to he a mounted man,
and they began to think of their safety. It was only one
man, to be sure, but they were bound to consider every one 1
they met'ns‘ an enemy, until he proved the contrary,,end' "

' they had no arms, with the exception bf Ketselo's bow; is.

 p.

 

nucbesrrrou.
arrows. They edged away, therefore, toward a piece of the
her, but the stranger had seen them, and turned his horse in
the same direction. It was evident that he was as desirous of
. making their acquaintance as they were to avoid making his.

As his intention was plain, and it was useless to try to

escape from him, they rode toward him, and Steele soon had

’ the satisfaction of assuring his companions that, although he
puts dressed like an Indian, and looked like one, he was pro
2 .thly a white man. The stranger, who had been approach
lug-them warily, and with his rifle ready for instant action,
perceived that there was a. white man in the party, and rode
up to them. The recognition, on both sides, was instantane-
ous and cordial.

“ What! Bill Bush I" exclaimed Steele. “Where are yoa
steering for, old boy? We have met you just at the right
time, as I am afraid I could not have found the way to camp,
and haven’t as much as a popguu for defense.”

“ Hello, Cap’n Frank! 'l‘ell ye what, this old boss is
mighty glad to set his eyes onto you ag’ln. I had jest start— '
ed 'out on yer trail, and was gittin’ my mad up, so as to
feel like rubbin’ out a few Blackfeet, when I run onto you.
HOW did you git away from the red-skins. ?” . -

“ By the help of, my copper-colored friend here, and glad
enough I was, too, for they had promised to serve me upvwith-
out sauce this morning.” .

“ Thumer! Hello, Red Plume! what brought you here?
Hev’ ye been desartin’ yer colors? How is it ye happened

_ to save the life of a white man, and that man Cap’n Frank
Steele ?”
I As briefly as possible, and speaking in the Blackfeet tongue,
‘he young warrior told his tragic tale, and the trapper, though
visually Very stoicul, could not conceal his astonishment.

“ Wa-sl, this passes !”' he exclaimed. “ So that that" is the

,ehief's wife, and he has gone (lead. Human natur’ is human
aarur’, all the world over, I reckon, but an Injun’s natur’ is a
restleqnore so. It's lucky fur you,  Plume, that you ain’t V
2m the settlements, ’cause I‘ve hearn tell that they hang folks

; flu- sech jobs. But the Fat Bear was a. mighty mean Injon,‘

  middle ain’t no lento nobody" I had low ed to myglemwm

.V Ling“, ofvthefihckfeetvlllam,  j 

 

 

14 3. m enema I 

 

‘ ‘ . but I reckon I’ll leave the critturs alone, for women is mighty K
unsart’in, and awful apt to git a man into scrapes. Come 
along, Csp'n Frank; we ain’t fur from the camp, and I will '
soon take you to it.”

" A young lady was captured by the same party that took ,
me," said Steele, “ and I was obliged to leave her among the . fig:
Indians. Do you think they will hurt her 3"” -

“ énother woman! Thor‘s more trouble. I wonder wlia 3.5.
the blamed, good-lookin’, deceivin' critters was made fur, any r ‘ ;.
how. As fur hurtin’ her, that will depend on sarcumstances. , I 
Ef they feel in the humor, they will, and p‘rups, ag’in, they
won’t. I

“ I must go back and rescue her, Bill Bush, at all hazards. .3
ss‘soon as I can get some arms. Will you go with me ?” 

“I was jest keen to sw’ar that ye’d be gittin’ into some 5 "
scrape along of that gal, and be draggin’ me into it, too, I 1
reckon ye won’t ’low to go ’fore ye’ve seen the old man, :

it
i

s ‘ max t;

& fut ‘

'V‘ .m

 

who has been half crazy ’bout ye. Hurry up, now, and we i
will talk that matter over when we git to camp.” ~
~ The party then rode on quite rapidly, until they reached ,
l the camp of Captain Steele, who was greatly rejoiced at the ,i ‘v
/ safe return of his son. Kotselo, or Red Plume, with his ;
blood-bought wife (for such he now considered her), went to
the neighboring Ne: Percé village, where he was kindly
received and adopted into the tribe. , ’j 

"$1.; ‘ .

CHAPTER VII.
wmnme ASHORE. ,

Buck Renee and Eben Gookin only remained at Cep-
tsin Steele’s camp long enough to get sorne provisions to carry
with them; and started» out to find and follow the trail of tho
maruuding Blackfeet. The Delaware was not pleased with the '

, idea of having the great, green whaler for a companion. and , ,
’ would much rather have undertaken the expedition ’olone; but 2 i a’
a >, Ebenwunottobe puma orletthehind. . Iii-48m»  »

 

     

 

 qv’  ‘ 1 ,,

mas. , 

his fair cousin, uncouth as it was, was genuine and earnest, and
"he was by no means lacking in physical or moral courage. He

_ was resolved to attempt her rescue, whatever dangers might
be in his way, and Black Beaver was obliged to accept his
company with as good a grace as he could. He was armed
only with a pair of pistols and his formidable har’poo.a, refus-
ing a ride, as he declared that he “ couldn‘t git used to the
yrnal thing, by no manner of means.”

Black Beaver and his long comrade returned, in as direct 1:
inc as possible, to their campingground of the previous night,
in order to take up the trail of the savages at the beginning.
David Carver was anxious to go with them, but he was obliged
to attend his father, who had been severely hurt, and his own
wound had proved quite troublesome.

When the Delaware and the Yankee reached the pleasant
grove, they found the bodies of two Indians who had been
killed in the brief conflict, still untouched by wolves or buz-
zards. Black Beaver had already secured their scalps, and

' neither he nor Eben (felt sufliciently merciful to bury the
bodies; so they pressed on in search of the trail. That- was
easily found, as the ground had been considerably trampled by
the savages in their hasty exit, and as a few scraps of Ellen‘s
light garments had been left upon bushes and twigs, when she
was borne hurriedly along.

Once found, the trail was easily followed, through the thick
grass and over the soil ground of the prairie, for a heavy dew
had fallen during the night of the attack, and the Blackfeet
had taken no pains to hide the traces of their course. Neither
of the pursuers was-mounted, for the Delaware considered

that horses would be an_ impediment, rather than an assistance. I

on such a scout, and the Yankee vowed that it was impossible
for him to keep his balance on such a rough-riding craft. So
they ran along the trail, in a sort of dog-trot, Black Beaver in
advance, with his keen eyes fixed on the ground, and Eben
wondering how he could find hisway in that trackless prairie
without a compass. ' ' '

‘ “ 'They continued to travel in this manner until they reached

 small stream, when! Eben declared that he was tired and

. hungry, and could go no further until he-was rested and fod-
 m Black Beaver»’ofleredt-'no ,ohjcotion to this, as ’ho

 

 

I

 
 

 

RED. rm

discovered that they had lost the trail, and he was, consequently, ‘
willing to wait and consider before hunting it up. Their stock ‘
of dried buffalo-meat and hard bread was produced, and hem
ate heartily, washing down their repast with the clear watt-e ,
of the stream. When the Yankee had finished, he felt muot'
braver, as well as stronger, and declared his intention of in v
continently slaying a large number of Blackfeet, and bearing.
hishright-eyed cousin home in triumph. For such a deed oi
valor, he. was sure that she could do no less than reward hin
with her fair hand. ‘

“ Wa-al, Beaver,” said he, “this job is finished, and a] /
we’ve got to do is jist to git ahead."

“ Ugh ! Mighty well to say git ‘head; but where go ?”

“ I calkilate the pesky critters have crossed the creek.”

“ Maybe so, but where cross? Maybe so not cross. Black
Beaver lost trail.” 7

“Lost the trail! Wa-al, itseems tarnation queer to me,

_ that you could follcr ’em this far, with no compass or stars, no

course or bearin's; and then be stopped by such a leetle creek 1 ’ ' w

as this. I‘ll jist throw my mind into this subjick, and see’
what I can make of it.”

So_saying, the Yankee, followed by the Delaware, walked 7
slowly down the edge of the stream, looking carefully and
anxiously at the clear water. Soon he stopped, and pointed
to a round stone in the middle of the brook.

“ Look-a-there, Mister Beaver. There's been mud onto that
rock once, but some of it has been scraped off.” v

“ Injun .l‘oot never did that," answered the Delaware.

“ Wa-al, I calkilato there ain‘t any fish in these parts that

would be likely to do it. Look yonder, further down-stream, ,   I

and you'll see a stick standin’ up out'of the bottom, It don't- I
stand to reason that stick got’ there by accident.- The Injuns
have been tryin’ to fool us, but that young upstart of a white
man has left us a sign or two. New, Beaver, if you’ll jist
look over on t’olhcr side, I calkilate you’ll conclude they’ve
gone across." ‘

The Delaware looked at the spot that was pointed out to .  ‘

him, and saw a clett stick lying on the shore, with 1118.933 v 
.nointingupthpbonk._ , . ., 
 Black Reeve: ms,”de he. “ Capln Prank did  " ‘

 

mm: mm. ‘ 47",.

' “ As that [first is Settled, we will jlst git caress, and then
you can ’tend to the land navigation" '
‘They waded the shallow stream, and walked up the bank
where the Delaware soon found marks of feet on the soil
ground, and they agnin.followed the trail easily and rapidly
The Delaware was silent, and Eben, imitating his example
scarcely uttered a word. '
It was near nightfall when they reached, by way of a

'- _ wooded slope, a valley, through which flowed a. broad and

‘ beautiful river, none other than the fair Saskatchie, by whose
hanks La—la and her lover had walked. Here the trail‘seemed
to grow “- warmer,” and Black Beaver counseled his friend to
be still more silent and cautious. They proceeded more care
'fully and slowly, concealing themsslvss, as much as possible,
from the view of any Blackfeet Who might be straggling about,
until the Delaware suddenly stopped, laid his hand on hiscom-
panion’s arm, and pointed to a number of horses that were
grazing in the meadow, some distance beyond them. >

“ Injun camp mighty close," said be. “We go up through
timber.”

He examined his rifle, and loosened his knife in its belt, and
the Yankee looked to the condition of his harpoon and itscoil
of light line, and then they moved silently up the slope. When
they reached the edge of the prairie, they could plainly see
the Indian village, which lay just before them. Smoke was
curling up from some of the lodges, and men, women, nml
children were moving about among them. The .two scouts
mode a circuit, gaining the tear of the village, and helth
council of war in the shelter of some bushes, at the same time
closely watching the scene beneath them. The Delaware said
that they could do nothing until late in the night, when the
Blackfeet would be asleep, and then they could only take ml~
tantage of any chances that might ofi‘er In the mean time

' it was necessary to remain concealed, or i to keep quiet.

‘ ‘ .V . This arrangement suited Eben very well, as even his head-

- strong valor qu‘ailed at the thought of encountering such a su-
 perior force, and, besides, he had had no sleep the previous
night, and felt strongly inclined, as he said, to “ turn in and

. n I I . ,

 Beaver selected a' retired unwnneltmdisnatiin which”; »

 

.18. mm mm

as he supposed, the white man might rest securely, and. left

‘ his companion to his slumbers‘, while he went to the edge of
the slope to reconnoiter. He had not been there long when
his attention was arrested by certain loud, prolonged and un.
pleasant noises. He was as much surprised as an Indian a1-

' lows himself to be, for he knew of no beast or birdI in the
forest or prairie, that could make such sounds. He soon per-
ceived that they came from the thicket in which he had lefl
Eben, and rightly concluded that the Yankee was snoring
vigorously in his sleep. As he started back to awake him,
fearing that the noise might bring an enemy upon them, he
observed one of the Blackfeet crawling up the slope. It was
evident that this man had also heard the snoring, for he
seemed even more surprised than Black Beaver, and stopped,
every now and then, in an attitude of listening.

The Delaware, seeing that there was no time to be lost,

. crept back to Ebeu’s covert, swiftly and silently, and aroused
the unconscious snorer as gently as he could, but not gently
enough to prevent an exclamation. '

“ Avast there ! Hello I is it time for the starboard watch f"-

“ ’Sh-shl Injuns close by. Be still, and look.”

Eben looked, and started involuntarily, as he saw a tall
Blackfoot crouching by the side of a tree, a short distance from
them. The Indian appeared to be listening intently for the
strange sounds that had now ceased. His face was partly
turned from them, and his head, leaned against the trunk of
the tree.

“ Why don't you shoot the whelp, Beaver i’” eagerly whis-
pered the Yankee.

“ Don’t want to shoot; make too big noise. You shoot that
1mg arrow mighty well ; s‘pose you sheet it through his head", 4 \

“ Darned if I don’t! Stand by to haul him in l" ' s '

Eben arranged the coil of his line, grasped his harpoon ' -
firmly, rose up quietly, poised the long iron for a moment, and-
launched it at the watching foe. The keen barb crashed
through the head of the Blackfoot, pinning him to the tree,
and he died without even uttering a groan.

‘ “ Good shot—akin easy !” said the Delaware, as he‘crept t0 ;
me We?» andfiisenzaged the harpoon,.at the same time W - 3
ing‘ihe scalp ofthe fallen savage ‘, , ‘- - .x ’ 

 

“roam

As he had had a sufficient experience of the Yankee’s snor-
mg abilities, be deemed it advisable not to allow him to fall ‘
asleep again, and, accordingly, took him on another recon-
noitering tour. They posted themselves, this time, on a slight
eminence at a greater distance from the camp, from which
they soon saw a sight that astonished both of them. .They
saw Kotselo rush down upon the plain where the horses were
‘frazing; saw him stab the chief, Nip-muckjwe, and cover his
body with bushes; and then saw him hasten to the village.

“ What that mean ?” exclaimed the Delaware, without at-
tempting to conceal his surprise. “ Black Beaver knows that
Red Plume—seen him in fight. Who he kill ?"

As this question could not be settled by either of them,
they waited and watched. until Kotselo returned, accomphnied
by the Indian woman. He went to the knoll, from which he
had made the descent upon Nip—muck-we, and unbound a man
who was tied to a tree, whom neither the Delaware nor the
Yankee had previously noticed. As the man rose to his feet,
and they perceived that he was white, simultaneous exclama»
tions broke from the lips of both.

“ White man i“ said the Delaware. “ ’Spect be Cap’n Frank.”

“ Darned if he ain‘t white 1" chimed in Eben. “ By jingo l
I believe it is that good-lookin’ upstart."

While they were irresolute, unable to determine what they
had better do, young Steele hastened dowu the hill with his
new friends, and the three mounted and rode rapidly away.
It was then useless to attempt to pursue them, and the two
scouts retraced their steps to the rear of the Indian village, in
the hope that some opportunity might be ofi'ered them of dis-
covering the whereabouts ot‘ Ellen Carver.

“Darn my buttons]? exclaimed Eben, “if that don’t take

' me right aback! That chap has run away, like a r tamal
‘ coward, and has left codsin Nelly, I s'pose, here among the
’ Injuns. He put on airs as it‘ he was all struck of a heap by

her party looks, but when it came to the trial, he sneaked l
aWay to save his own carcass. Have you any idee, Beaver,
what in natur’ it all means?" .

“ Black Beaver can‘t tell. 'Spect Red Plume mighty much
1:16, and kill somebody."‘ _ - .

“ Why did that white whelp good with the 133311,?" .. -

 

mum

“ ’Spect he know best.” '.

As no satisfactory information could be got out of the Deb
ware, Eben, alter lying in concealment for nearly an hour,
watching the village in vain for some sign of Ellen, concluded
that he would climb a tree, and thus gain a more extended
view of the situation. Accordingly, leaving his harpoon on
the ground, he went up a tall tree with true sailor-like agility.
and soon reached a position from which he could see, not
only the village, the plain and the river, but the vast extent
of prairie that spread out on either side of the valley. As has.
been previously stated, the night was not dark, although no
moon was shining.

The Yankee had not been long in the tree, when he
observed an unusual commotion among the lodges. Men,
women and children poured forth it a body, and streamed
down on the plain, where they commenced to give utterance to
the most doleful cries and lamentations. Presently the crowd
returned, bearing on a litter something that was covered with
a blanket,‘the yells and howls increasing as they approached
the village. Eben made these facts known to his comrade,
in bi usual viva vane style.

“ I say, Beaver, the Injuns are raisin’ the Old Harry in par-
tic’lar——bringin' that dead chap in from below, I calkilate.”

“ ’Spect Red Plume killed a chief," answered the Delaware.
" But don’t speak so loud. Somebody hear.”

Eben heard this caution, but did not heed it, for he saw, at
that moment, Ellen Carver, who had doubtless been over-
looked during the excitement, walking. in front of the lodge,
and looking about. He immediately proclaimed his discovery
with a stentorian shout, such as he might have uttered from
the masthead of the brig Dolphin, on catching a glimpse of 3‘
distant whale. . ~ ,

“ There she blmop .’ Beaver, I see cousin Nelly 1" ‘

{He was instantly heard and seen by the Blackfeet, a num-
ber of whom, with a yell of mingled rage and exultation,
rushed up the slope. Eben Gobkin hastily descended the‘
tree, and picked up his harpoon, but, before he could use it,
was overpowered and bound. The Delaware, perceiving that ,»
he could not aid his indiscreet com to, sought his own safely ’ *
in Written . , - t , ‘

 

CHAPTER VIII.
BIG MEDICINE ARROW.

Esau Gooxm, as may be supposed. was not a little as
tounded, when he found himself incontinently captured by the
very red-men whom he had been endeavoring to avoid, and he
bitterly regretted the incautious exclamation that had brought
the calamity upon him. Bound, and surrounded by a crowd
of painted, excited, wratht‘ul savages, his condition was by no
means an enviable one, and he was at first so completely be-
wildered, that he knew not what to say or do, His sell:
possession soon returned, however, and, with it, his Yankee
mother wit, and he began to think how he might extricate
himself from his unpleasant predicament. The Blackfeet
thought, of course, that he must have had a companion,
and eagerly questioned him, asking where the other had
gone. ‘

“ None other,” answered Eben, shaking his head, and gesti-
culating violently.

But some of the savages had seen the prints of the Dela-
ware‘s moccasined feet, and hastened on his trail.

“ None other with me,” protested Eben, as he noticed this
movement, and divined its cause. “Some Injuns been around
here, but I don‘t know ’em.” '

Some of the Blackfeet had taken up the Yankee’s harpoon,
and were examining it, with its long coil of stout line, very
curiously.

“ What this ?" asked one of them.

Eben Gookin had been long enough in the Indian country,
and had sumciently used his natural inquisitiveness, to be
.well acquainted with the habits and superstitions of the sav-
, ages, and he resolved toavail himself of his knowledge, and

impose on their credulity, which he might the more easily do,
, as it was by no means probable that any, of them had ever

',_|eenaharpoon. .»

“Bi‘mediemet’ he exclaimed. in the most  

 

     

 

    

52 manna.

he could command, and gazing reverently at the weapon.
“ Much big medicine 1”

“ What can it do ?" he was asked.

Selecting one of the Indians who understood broken Eng-
lish passably well, Eben made him interpreter to the rest, and
proceeded to explain the wonderful qualities of the “ medi-
cine," much after the fashion in which his countrymen cf the
iresent day advertise their “justly celebrated ” curealls. It
would go where he wished it to go, and would do what he
ordered it to do; it could draw the thunder down from the
clouds, and could tell when it would rain and when it would
shine; it could cure the sick ; it could bring the dead to life;
it could find lost trails and forgotten caches ; it could do
more strange and startling things than the Indians had ever
heard or dreamed of.

As these statements were listened to by his captors with '
evident incredulity, Eben indignantly told them to loose his
arms, and he would show them that he had spoken the truth.
‘When this request was translated, a general assent was given,
and he soon found himself free from all restraint, except that
of the men who surrounded him. 1

After rubbing his wrists, to remove the numbness caused
by the cords with which he had been bound, he drew the at-
tention of the red-skins to a sapling that stood at the distance
of nearly one hundred feet from him. Then he took the hat-
' poon, poised it with great precision, and placed himself in
such an attitude as would enable him to make the best possi-
ble use of his powers. After taking a very careful aim, he
drew back his long and brawny arm, and sent forward the
weapon with all the force of which he was capable. ' It

struck the sapling, and hung there, quivering, for a moment, V
' when it dropped to the ground.

The Indians uttered exclamations of wonder, and Eben
himself was surprised at his performance, for the light was so
uncertain, the distance so great, and the sapling so small, ‘
that he had hardly believed he would be able to accomplish
the feat. Several of the Blackfeet took the instrument. and
_.endeavored to imitate the Yankee, but none of them could
cast It so far, or with the least accuracy. Eben explained to ~ ;
' them,  management the “ maniac" was utterly v

 

 

  
 

 

  ‘ 3mm as

useless in any hands but his own, and that they would have '
\ been severely hurt by it, if he had not given it strict orders to
L Q, I behave itself.
r ~ He then sat down, and picked up three small pebbles,
which he laid in the palm of his left hand, while he held up
the harpoon with his right hand, and repeated, gazing at the
polished barb, some gibberish that sounded much like this:
“ By-jiminy-crackey —— cat-iu-the-corner-go — rorus-a-borus-
, onery-twoery-ickery-an-—h0cus-pocus-presto-change !" 
He appeared to insert the pebbles in his left car, after show--
ing them to the savages, and explaining that he could make
his side and leg hollow, sothat they would go through to tho
I ground. To prove this position, he stood up, shook himself
v, for a. while, and then gravely pulled off his boot, and shook
' the stones out of it. This performance was tho much for the
composure of the stolid Blackfeet, who eagerly picked up the
pebbles, and turned them over in their hands, to make sure
that they were the same that the white man had put in his
ear. Having satisfied themselves on this point, they handled
the harpoon again, "looking at it with an expression of the
greatest reverence. '
Having prepared the minds of his auditors by these ex-
ploits, and inspired them with something like a proper respect
_ for himself and his “ medicine," Eben caused the interpreter
5 I o translate a speech for him, in which he assured the Indians
' that he had come among them alone, and for their own good,
,I because he knew that the Blackfeet needed a big medicine.
j " . He professed himself able to cure their sick, to bring their
' ‘ dead to life, to make their squaws handsome, to find lost ‘0)
stolen property, to give them success in all their undertak-
ings, to teach them how to achieve certain victory over their
enemies. and to do many other wonderful things, claiming,
nearly as much power as that which is so abundantly adver-
/tiscd by the back-room, fiflycent astrologers and clairvoy-
auts of civilization. Civilized humanity is easily humbugged
by the latter class, and it was natural that the ignorant m:
ages should be imposed upon by the performances and pre-
tensions of a sharp Yankee. ' r r l
' His high-flown oration wuehsrttly rconclndedrwhen the 
Minna who anthem, seeking for much Beam  6,1;

/

 

   
 
 
    
   
  
   

 

   
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
   
    

64, V 'anm

bringing with them the body of the war-nor whom Eben bed

fatally harpooned. But they had seen nothing of the Dela-

ware. . -‘

This discovery again excited the angry passions of the
Blackfeet, who turned furiously upon the Yankee, and accused
him of having slain their comrade. Eben stoutly denied the
charge, saying /that his mission was to cure, and not to kill,
and assured them that he could soon inform them, by the aid
of his wonderful “ medicine,” who had done the deed. ,

Permission being accorded to him, he solemnly laid his . 

’ harpoon upon the corpse, knelt down, and repeated another
mixture of gibberish, gazing intently at the point of the
weapon, and making various outlandish gestures. Then he
rose, and gave the interpreter an exact description of the

Black Beaver.

“ A Delaware! A sneaking dog of a Delaware l A thiev-
ing, lying, white—hearted Delaware l” exclaimed his captors,
as he described the dress and paint of his late comrade.

“ And another "—Eben gave them to understand. He
then proceeded—there might. have been some malice in 7
his heart—to describe, as accurately as he could, the dress . »

’ and appearance of Frank Steele. The savages instantly re-
cognized their white prisoner, and a runner was dispatched,

to ascertain whether he had made his escape. When the .

runner returned, and reported that Steele had cut the thongs ,

with which he was tied, and was nowhere to be found, their-
confidence in the Yankee and his extraordinary “medicine ”

was greatly increased, and his stock rose rapidly in the Black-

feet market. ~

An elderly warrior, who acted as spokesman of the group,
then suggested that, as the white man knew so much, and

’ possessed such a wonderful talisman, he might be able to tell

' them who had murdered their chief, Nip-muck-wo. Eben », ,
professed hlmself able to do so, provided he could see the ’
body.

He was quickly led down to the village, being permitted‘to
carry his magical, weapon, which the Indians had dubbed the.
gig Medicine Arrow, and was placed by the side of the litter.

, ,r , the body of the chief was lying. Removing the
”  his timer: on the corpse, and went Waugh

     

  

  

 
 

ASTROLOGY.

the same gibberish and gesticulations that he had used over
the, dead warrior in the wood. Then he rose to his feet, as
before. and gave a rather misty description of Kotselo, the
fugitive. It was sufllciently accurate, however, to enable his
audience to understand that the deed had been done by the
Red Plume, and the statement of the Yankee appeared quite
probable, when they recollected with what ignominy Kotselo
had been treated by the chief.

Sure-I was made for the renegade, in his lodge and through
the village, but he was not to be found, and the ovvner of the
Big Medicine Arrow was earnestly besought to tell them
what had become of him. This he readily did, saying that a
handsome squaw had gone off with him, a squaw who wore
a fine blanket, and had feathers in her long hair. The squaw
was recognized as La-la, who was also reported as missing.
Eben further informed them that they had taken horses from
the plain, and had gone in a northerly direction. When
it was known that the horses had disappeared, and when
the plain trail of the fugitives was discovered, some of
the most active young braves in the village, mounted on
the fleetest animals, were sent in pursuit, although the Yan-
kee, after consulting his harpoon, plainly told them that they
could not hope to overtake the. renegade, as he had more
than two hours the start of them.

Alter tnese numerous and varied exhibitions of his magical
powers, Eben was held in high estimation by his captors, and
his Big Medicine Arrow was almost worshiped. Instead of

‘ leiug instantly slaughtered, and losing his precious scalp, he

was elevated to an exalted position, and treated with all.
imaginable respect and honor. But there was another ordeal

.' reserved for him, one from which he might well have shrunk,

with fear and trembling, had not his native impudenee, and

the prestige that he had thus far gained, borne him out.

. The elderly warrior, who had been acting as principal

spokesman, threw out another suggestion, to the effect that the

white man had professed himself able to bring the dead to

life, an] he would like to see him try his hand on Nip~muck-we.
“ Certainly,”_ answered Eben. “ Nothing easier.” .
But he instantly regretted this hasty and incautiom mecca, "

' V than he reflected thntsuch a performance was rayflur beyond":  (17‘

_ - — ,

 

56' .mmm

his abilities. -What he had already done appealed so wonder

ful in the eyes of the savages, and, had excited so much eulo-

gium, that he had almost begun to believe in his own omni-
. potence, and had spoken without thinking.

To hide his embarrassment, be bent down over the litter to
take up his harpoon, and to think about what he should do in
this emergency, when he noticed a strange appearance in the
face of the supposed corpse. Gazing earnestly at the eyes,
lips and nostrils of the chief, he detected a faint tremor of a
nerve here, and a slight flutter of an eyelash there. Placing
his hand over the region of the heart, and delicately feeling
the pulse, he was sure that there was life in the Fat Bear, and
resolved to try the experiment, “sink or swim,live or die, sur-
vive or perish l”

Replacing the- blanket, and solemnly waving his magical
harpoon, he ordered the body to be carried into a sheltered
place. The litter was lifted, according to his directions, and
borne within the chief’s lodge. As Eben followed it, he per-
ceived that the lodge was tenanted by two women, one of
whom was old As-moo-tah, and the other was his fair cousin
Ellen Carver!

The old bag was lying on the ground, having howled and
moaned herself to sleep, but Ellen was wide awake, and re-
cognized him as soon as he entered. She started up, and wits
about to speak to him, when he admonished her, by a waving
motion of his harpoon, to leave him unnoticed. He" then or-
dered the lodge to be cleared of all persons, except himself
and the two women, which was quickly done, and he pro-
ceeded with his task.

Again uncovering the face and breast of the chief, he form:
the signs of life more apparent than he had previously notit (in
them. Taking a small flask of brandy from his pocket, 0 u.
placed it to the lips of the patient, and poured a little dam.
his throat. After a struggle, Nip-muck-we breathed slightly,
and blood began to trickle from the wounds in his breast and
side. 'Eben gave him another sip, when the red. man opened
his eyes and lips, and groaned, while the blood flowed fifeer

\ from his cuts. The Yankee let the blood run for a while, think- _

tug that it‘wonld do the Fat Bear nothnrt to lose a,  
stopped the flow from the wounds .. , v  , V g V Y

 

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While this was being done, Ellen sat in silence, utterly lost
In wonder. and the old hag, who had awoke from her slumv
her. was also silent, and no less astonished.

'l‘he wounds of the chief had been severe but not deep, and the

- sudden shock to his system, overburdened, as it was, with flesh,

had produced a sort of paralysis, and left him in a state of coma.
Eben had gained a smattering of medical knowledge in his
youth, which had been roughly increased by his experience 011
shipboard, and he had no doubt that he would be able to save
the life of Nip-muck-we, if his treatment was not interfered with.
He bound up the woundsas well as the materials at hand would
allow, and then invited a few of the principal men out of the
crowd that was swarming about the lodge, to enter and view the
miracle that had been wrought.

They did so, and the most stoical among them could not
restrain their astonishment at seeing their dead chief alive,
breathing and moving, though not yet able to speak. The
Yankee was unanimously voted to be the greatest medicine-
man that had ever come among the Blackfeet, and his won-
derful harpoon was regarded with such mysterious awe that
not a warrior dared to lay a finger on it.

C H A P 'l‘ E R I X.
rm: nucmm naNDazvovs.

Amt; having allowed the warriors to satisfy their curiosity,
‘and to express their wonder and thanks, Eben turned them
out of the lodge, informing them that the life of the distim
guisth patient depended on his being kept perfectly quiet.
He ordered old As-moo-tah to procure some simple herbs, to
make a tea. that Would quiet the nerves of the chief and give
him strength to recover from his injuries. When the hag had
pne. he found himself alone with Ellen, and improved his
opportunity by rushing to her and kissing her hand vehemertly, I
a familiarity which she did not, feel herself justified. at M ‘

 

 
 

     
     
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
  
   
   
     
   
   
       

RED HUME.

As it was uncertain what amount of intelligence was poo- ‘
teased by the chief at that time, they withdrew to a part of the :
lodge in which they could not be observed by him, and con- :77
versed in low tones. Ellen was very anxious to hear the fate " :1
of the rest of the party, and was pleased to learn that her ' 
fathm Enough badly wounded, was in a fair way to recover, 4,
and that her brother‘s hurt was but a slight one. She was at 
a loss to imagine how her tall cousin had come there, and how 
he had so strangely got into the good graces of the savages  
Eben told his story as briefly as he could, making due allow" ’ _ i
once for exaggerations and for an amount of self-glorification :
that was worthy of an Indian brave relating his exploits. 
Ellen, as may be supposed, was both amused and astonished. ~ 3;"

She found the narrative sufliciently wonderful to cause her to , , E
give her cousin credit for more courage, ingenuity and impu- ‘ 1
dence than she had supposed he possessed, and her estimate

of him rose considerably, until he began to speak slightingly t

of Frank Steele. ‘ ._
“Tell you what, Nelly,” said he, “that young chap who l '

 

commenced to be so sweet on you has turned out to be a 

. rg’lar sneak.” . ' i:

‘ ' “ Who do you mean? What do you mean ?” , \ :.
“ That you ng feller'who came to our place after supper, who

 

kept castln’ sheep’s eyes at you, my purty, and wanted us all 2;:
a to go to his father’s camp, and then got us all picked up by
these internal Injuns. I-Ie ain't bad-lookin’, I’ll allow, but hand-
some IS as handsome does, in my opinion, and the way he
sneaked ofl‘ and left you here, to be eat up alive, is no way for
a gentleman to do, much less a man who puts on airs and .
ealls himself brave.” ' I .p i;
“ What do you mean, Eben'? If you are speaking cf Mr. "
Steele, I can inform you that he is a prisoner here, and is much --
worse ofl' than I am, for I am told that he is to be put todeath ‘ 
tomorrow." _ / I 
“ Not much he ain’t, my sugar sweet. There will be no ' 'L
puttin’ to death for him, so long as he can scamper away and
save his carcass. He is thr from here now, for I saw an Injun .
cut him loose. to-night, and then saw him steal a horse, and ,
, .I'ide 06' with thatlsame Injun and a red-skinned woman." V
~ “Then he is safe,th God! -He hfl'edmped, and to

 

 

 

 

 

   
  
 
   
  
 

 

  

00138111 ‘ mm. to

will return With a force .to rescue me, as he tle me he
would;” l v

“ Wa-al, cousin Nelly, if that’s the way ye take it, 1 might
as well have held my tongue. To my notion, it looked as if
he was in too big a hurry to git away, to think much about
you.” '

“ He could do nothing to help me, unaided and alone, and
they would have killed him to-morrow. He must know best ’
what ought to be done.”

“ That’s what Beaver said, but he is prejudiced, besides
bein’ an Iniun; and it’s what you say, but I calkilate you’ve
a hankerin’ arter that young feller’s black hair and eyes. You
see that I didn’t run away from you, Nelly, though I don’t
portend to be quite as good-lookin’ as he is, but I came right
into the den of lions, to do what I can for you,” .

“ I thought you were captured and brought here,” naively
answered Ellen. . ‘

“ So Iwas,‘ a sorter, but you see I wanted to come, and
fixed it up that way, and you know how I‘ve pulled the wool
over the eyes of these red-skinned critters. J ist you rest easy,
cousin Nelly, and trust to home folks, like your own Eben,
and you will soon see how I will play the game and git you
safe out of this scrape.” ,

The conversation was here interrupted by the entrance of
As-moo-tah, who glared at Eben as if she thought he was get-
ting entirely too familiar with the fair captive; but the medi.
sine-man exercised his authority as only a physician of

acknowledged standing can do, ordering her about as he chose,

until the tea was duly prepared and administered to «the chief.

.Nip-muck-we soon sunk into a comfortable slumber, and

Eben, after directing the hag to give him more of the draugh,
when he should wake, and bidding Ellen good-night, took
his cherished harpoon, and walked majestically out of the

lodge.‘
He found a crowd a“ men, women and children waiting to

receive and honor him, to whom he reported the favorable con-
‘ dition of his patient. Among them were the relatives of the ’
warrior who had fallen by his hand. These forlorn wretches ~ ’ "'
-, , beset him with a doleful clamor, and bosought him to rain ' 
.-  :1:qu Woman thedoad. 2   ,. . Q. ,,  

 

an meson.

The Yankee knew that it would be impossible to comp-p
with this request, as the man’s skull was thoroughly shattered,
and his brains, if any he had, must have completely lefi it,
and he was somewhat puzzled to tell what to do. But his~
iiqpudence again came to his aid, and he gravely assured the
anxious relatives that it was beneath his dignity, and contrary
to his practice, to exercise that portion of his sublime art upon

tany person of less consequence than a chief, and that, even if
he could so far lower his professional standard, his big medi-
cine arrow would not consent to aid him in the work. They

, were obliged to be content with this answer, as the great
magician, was inexorable, and he was soon provided with
supper, and put to sleep, with his harpoon, on a comfortable
couch. r . .

During the next day, Eben Gookin was the acknowledged
lion of the village. To be sure, he was unfavorably regarded
by. an old woman, who, during many years, had been the
established practitioner; but he easily disarmed her resent-
ment by refusing to interfere with her treatment in any cases, . L,
and by actually asking her advice concerning the chief, and
employing her to prepare for him certain soothing draught!
and mild dressings for his wounds. An eminent city physi-
cian could not more effectually have flattered the vanity of a
village-apothecary, by inviting him to a consultation, than

 

- c

Eben smoothed the rufiled feathers of that ancient mistress of i
roots and herbs.

As for himself, his position was unquestionable; the won- V A
derful manner in which he had restored Nip-muck-we to life ' I?
had made him facile princepa, monarch of all he surveyed, in 17 i

the “ big medicine” and magical line of business. He had no

difficulty in refusing such cases as he thought beyond his

skill, or in objecting to any thing that might give him trouble,

for he could always consult his famous harpoon, and that in- \

variably told him to do just as he pleased, and no one dared 

to question its decrees. 7 "

' Still. with all his popularity, he was making no progress

r with his great object, the release of Ellen and himself from the

‘ ‘ clutches of the Blackfeet. That, however, it was necessary to
"have to time and opportunity, and he congiatulated himself;

 in the meanmthathohtdhiseom whimsical; the ',

it

s

 

 

 

     

\

m momma. ‘ 01

. t t
.34?! «f; 1“ V _ I
l ‘v ‘

ti"

, his fancied rights could not be invaded by any good-looking
young man with black hair and eyes. He felt that he could
only wait and watch his chances, hoping that the Fat Bear
would not take it into his head to die in earnest, as he seri-
ously doubted his ability to resuscitate him a second time,

During the day, several large parties of Blackfeet cam
00m difl‘erent directions and joined the band, until nearly
three hundred lodges were congregated in the valley. They

' were concentrating their forces for the purpose of combined
attacks upon trading or trapping parties and such Indians as
were friendly to the whites, and the cene was a lively and
martial one, after the red-skin fashion.

The new-comers were soon made acquainted with Eben and
with the wonderful things he hadperformed by the aid of his
big medicine arrow, which he always carried about with him,
as if it was a talisman. Their praise, wonder and curiosity
were very flattering to the Yankee, but were also a source of
considerable embarrassment, as he was prevented from enjoy-

, ing the society of his cousin, and as he was continually fearful
that some great man among them might die suddenly, and
he might be called upon to rescue him from the grave. Every
arrival of a chief counted one chance against him, and he
began to wish that he was well out of the scrape. '

In the evening all the men gave themselves up to a grand
dance and carousal. After the dance, they made amends for
their usual taciturnity, by talking as loud and long as any
stump-orator when election day is near, with this exception,
that the politician brags of his party, and. abuses the opposite
political nuisance, while the chivalrous Blackfeet boasted imo
mensely of their own deeds, past and to come, and denounced
all their antagonists as dogs, squaws and old women, whom ‘t
was always perfectly easy to whip, when they could find ti .1 t:
cowardly wretches. ‘ ‘

When they had finished their boasting, they betook them-
selves to gambling, in which they were fully as enthusiastic. no ' ~.,
in their oratorical displays. Some seated themselves on the '
grass in’ groups, and played with dice and small stones, more
eagerly and excitedly than civilized gamesters, a warrior ire-
quently losing all he possessed in the world, on the turn. of a t 

 But the greater number engaged in ’the favorite  g»?

5., k»
,“

“Li-r; m'

g.
33'
is
g.
I *

  

We wig-W1" nasal/:97 '      ‘
‘3, ,.

     
   
 
 
 

{

 

..

62 men PLUME.

of “ Hand.” Two large parties were drawn up, on each side
ofa blazing fire, one of which was called the party “ in hand,"
and the other the party “out of ham .” A small piece of
wood was rapidly passed from one to another of the party in
hand, the other side striving to guess, as it was hurried from
one to another, where it was concealed. This was accom-
panied by a wild chant, and by heating with sticks upon dry
poles. Simple as the game may seem, it was wonderfully
exciting, as played by a number of Indians. Commencing
slowly at first, it soon waxed fast and furious, the chant rising
and growing more rapid, and the din of the drumming increas-
ing, until it was almost deafening. The players became
greatly excited, the perspiration streamed off from their bodies,
bets were wildly shouted from one side to the other, and it
seemed, for a while, as if Pandemonium had broken loose.

The old men walked among the groups, nearly as much ex-
cited as the gamblers themselves, and could not refrain from
gumsing, now and then, at the place of concealment of the
cache, or betting on the spotted dice.

Among these oldstcrs, the recipient of their profuse atten-
tions, was Eben Gookin, with his magical harpoon. He was
as solemn as any owl, as grave as any judge, but he was
troubled, for he feared that these exciting exercises would lead
to a fight, which might result in the death of some chief. As
rapidly as his assumed dignity would allow, he edged away
from the crowd, toward the lodge that his cousin Ellen occu-
pied. As he did so, he noticed that he was followed by an
Indian, closely wrapped in a blanket, who had been watching
the players. Ebendid not think there was any thing strange
in, this, until the man touched him on the shouller.
turned around, the blanket was drawn aside, and he recog~
sized the familiar features of Black Beaver. The Delaware
Has one of the last men the Yankee would have expected to
meet at- that time and place, but he was careful to conceal his
surprise, and merely stared.

“Eben mighty smart man,” said Black Beaver; “ fool In-

? juns, mighty much—but can’t be medicinsman always.”

~‘,‘ That’s a fact, Beaver, and I’m thinkin’ how to sneak om;

» ofthis scrape, and git the gal ofl'.” r

 
 

“.Oan‘t Eben bring gal out to-morrer; out when to
' . . . ~ V :‘ . /

\.

  

   

As he'

 

 

 

    
 

omen or, 

a killed the. lnjun? Black Beaver knows “good place to ' ”
hide." '

pqnaw out of the way, I will fix lier u p Injun-fashion.’7 ,

“ Good ! Bring gal out. Black Beaver will wait, and
make all safe.” .,

So saying, the Delaware drew his blanket more closely
about him, and glided away.

Eben went to the chief’s lodge, where he found Nip-muck .'
we improving, and gave directions for his further treatment;
He could only get a chance to whisper a few words to Ellen,
as she was closely watched by As-moo-tah, and he soon went

_“ P’raps I can. I’ll try it, anyhow IfI can git that,  » w"

to his own couch, intending to arrange his means of escape ' T

the next day.

The plan was frustrated, however, by an unexpected change
of camp. Early in the morning, the lodges were taken down,
and all the large assemblage of Blackfeet, men, women, chil-
dren. horses and dogs, together with Ellen Carver and Eben
Gookin and his harpoon, were on their way to another
location.

CHAPTER X
omrrm mart.“

Tunas was much excitement in Captain Steele’s camp
when Bill Bush returned, bringing with him Frank, Red
Hume and La-la. The trader was overjoyed to meet his son,‘ ,
whom he had hardly expected to see again, notwithstanding
the assurances of Bush. The Carvers were very anxious to
learn the fate of Ellen. but young Steele Could give them little
inhrmation, beyond the {act that she was a prisoner, and, as

far-as he could know, was unharmed. Red Plume had ,not _ 

Been her, and La-la had been too much occupied with her "
own sorrow, to think of the captive white maiden. ' , ‘,
A great deal of sympathy was manifested ‘for the Garvem' _ ,1.
Indit woe resolved that no time must be lost in attemptingT '
tumm-Efisutmm the  ,‘I‘rank dunked 
 "Tar-'4, - . ,A Wm:

- e .5

 

641 ' nan nun»

a party Immediately, and effect her release by force of arms.’
and in this he was supported by his father, who gave him lib-
erty to Select as many men from his command as were will.
ing to aid him in his enterprise. But Bill Bush protested
against the plan, as likely to cause considerable loss of lif
Without gaining its object. ‘

“From what I know of these yere Blackfeet,” said he,
" they won’t be apt to hurt the gal, onless she turns out to be

on cantankerous. Theyain’t like the reg’lar peraira Injun,
who never show a woman crittur the least bit of mercy: but
they like to keep 'the white women when they git ‘em, ’spe-
cially ef they’re putty, hopin’ to make squaws of ’em, or to
turn ’em into money in some way. Ef we should go to work
and fight ’em, either they would whip us, or we would whip
them. Ef we got whipped they would hold onto the gal,
of course, and ef they got whipped, it is ten to one they
would kill the gal, when they saw they were bound to lose
.her. So you see, ’cordin’ to my notion, it will be best for
two or three of us to go—not enough to be in each other’s
way—and try to outsmart the Injuns.”

Bush was upheld in his opinion by some of the trappers,
who also stated their belief that the bands of Blackfeet that
had been prowling about in that region were uniting, for the
purpose of a grand campaign against the traders and trap
pars, and that the entire force of the whites would not be
sufllcient to make a successful attack upon them, on ground
of their own choosing.

9‘ You see, now,Cap’n Frank,” continued Bush, “ that that’s
no use in takin’ a crowd with us. You and I will go, my
boy, and we will take good bosses and plenty of provender,
and will camp around the villains ontil we git what we want.
' Ilean‘t think what’s ‘come of the Delaware and the Yankee.
who went to hunt the trail, onless they’ve been rubbed out
by the Blackfeet, or are hangin’ round on that trail yit.
Howsomever, we know whar’ to go, and needn‘t bother ’bout
onythin’ else."

. David Carver, although his wounded arm was still painful,
declared his intention of aiding in the rescue of his sister, and
the .mnegade Blackfoot also expressed'a desire to be one of
the pony. Bush was glad to accept the lorries: aphid

 

m ’msunns. \ . it! ‘
t i
Plume, but consented rather ungraciously to the proposal of
young Carver, as he considered him a “ greeny,” and likely
to be in the way. '

Kotselo left his stolen bride with his adopted tribe, and the
four men, well mounted, armed and provisioned, set out on‘
their errand of deliverance. "

In due course of time, they reached the valley of ,tlr:
Saskatchic, and the place where Frank Steele had been so
providentially saved from the hands of the savages. The ‘
renegade, as the person best acquainted with the locality,
was sent forward to reconnoiter, and soon returned with the
intelligence that the camp was deserted. ‘

After Kotselo had made a further examination of the local-
ity, in order to make sure that no lurking Indians had been
left behind, the party rode down on the plain, and examined ’
the site of the late village. Long experience rendered them
able to determine, with great exactness. the number of the
Blackfeet warriors, and the hour at which they had left the
Valley. '

“The boys war’ right,” said Bill Bush. after a full inspection
of the surroundings. “The infarnal Blackfeet are bound to
kick up a row with somebody. and they’ve got a big lot of V '
fightin' men together, fur sart’in. We would be running our
head ag’in a rock, to try to pitch into ’em jest now, and I
reckon it will be jest as much as we ken all do to keep ’em ,
ofi‘, ef they take a notion to pitch into us.”

“ Where do you suppose the Indians have gone to P" asked
David Carver, “ and what do you mean to do now ‘P”

“ This hoss can’t purtend to say whar’ they’ve put out for,

‘ but he ken find out mighty easy, by follcrin’ the trail, and
that is jest what we allow to do. Better stop and eat a little
suthin’, boys, as I reckon we’ve got plenty of time to ketch up
with the critturs.” '

All were ready to comply with this suggestion. and the pub
Iuers satisfied their hunger, atter which they took up the trail,
and followed it to the river, which was then forrlable and easy
to cross. The sharp eyes of Bill Bush, who was the first to,
reach the other side, discovered a corked bottle floating int .' ,
little eddy near the' bank. He picked it up, and showed ltto , ’ ‘
his companions, when all had safely madethc crossing; ' ' ’2“ l:

. ,. .'\'.
/ V ‘.

 

96 RED roman

“Iknow that bottle,” said young Carver, as he entwined
the article. “ It is cousin Eben’s pocket-flask, that he carried
his spirits in. Shouldn’t wonder if he has "put it there on
purpose, to give a hint to such as might come after. Yes,
there’s a paper in it, too. Come and take a look at this,
Mr. Steele.”

David extricated the paper from the flash, and read as fol
lows: ‘

“ All right. Nelly is safe so far. So am I, but in a ticklish

fix. Don't know where we are going. Lots of Injuns with

us. Tell that young Steele that he needn’t think any more

about Nelly, as she knows who sticks to her in time of trouble.
H E. G."

“That is good news, anyhow,” he said, when he had
finished. “ I am glad to hear that they are safe, especially
sister Nelly. Inever feel troubled about Eben, as he seems
to get out of scrapes as easy as he gets into them, and
that is saying considerable."

“Judging from the tone of his note." said Steele, “I
think he has impudence enough to oarrv him through any
thing. Come, now, let us follow up this trsl' while it is warm."

The trail was easily followed, for there was a small army
of the Indians, including their women and children and other
live stock, and they had left a track that even David Carver
would have called as plain as a wagon-road. Consequently,
our friends traveled at their leisure, wishing, to keep well in
the rear of the Blackfeet, as it was far from their desire‘to
provoke an encounter, or to be discovered.

It was Late in the night when they reached a high bluff,
which overlooked a broad and beautiful valley, through which,
as through the valley of the Saskatchic, ran a stream of water.
. Here Bush ordered a halt, and crept forward to the edge of
the bluil‘, and looked down into the valley from a position at
which he could see without being seen. He soon discovered
that the Blackfeet camp, as he had supposed would be tho
ease, was located there. He called his companions, and

' ' showed them the wreaths of smoke that curled up, here and

there, shove the tops of the trees. The practiced eyes of the
, Rapper and the Indian told them that a hay force was .
camped in the valley. . I '

 

r

,.r:

A aneme ,

“ Thar’s the hull blasted lot of ’em, I reckon, Cap‘n
Frank," said the trapper. “ The night is tco dark, and the
timber too thick, fur countin’ the lodges but I make no doubt.
that the hull crowd that was camped up yonder, is now lyin'
herealmuts."

“But what are they there for, Bill? They had a better
camping ground, and plenty of wood and grass where they
were." ‘

' “ That‘s a fact, and you may be sure they 'hevn‘t come
here fur nothin’? They mean business, Cap‘n Frank, and
business with them means fight; that’s what's the trouble
with 'the Blackfeet jest now. It sorter strikes me, too, that
they ain’t more'n a thousand miles from our camp. What
say you. Red Plume i”

“ Maybe so not many mile,” answered the Indian. ‘tNot
many miles from N epercy camp, too. If they want Kotselo,
they shall find him in the fight.” -

“ Why, you don‘t allow, you foolish red-skin, that they are
seeh durued fools as to make all this trouble, and git into a
big row, jest because of you and that good-lookin‘ squaw ‘3”

“ Maybe so yes; the Fat Bear was a chief, and La-la was
the wife of a chief and the daughter of a big warrior.”

, “ Wal, thar’s no use in palaverin’. Talk is easy, but it
never took any sculps. S'pose you two lie low, and take keer
of the bosses, while Red Plume and I sneak down below, and
find out what. we ken.” , .

A place of rendezvous was selected, and the trapper and
the Indian moved cautiously and silently down the declivity,
availing themselves of every convenient cover, although it
was hardly possible that they could be observed from the vil-

9, ;e. When they reached the plain, which was heavily tim-
Ccred, and afforded good opportunity for concealment, they
agreed to divide, one passing to the right, and the other to the
left of the encampment, and to meet, on their'return from
their respective scouts, at the point where they separated.

Bush went to the right, moving almost as silently as a snake

‘ in the grass, now walking boldly in‘the shelter of a thicket,
and then crawling and squirming over the slight inequalities
of the ground, where there was little or no cover. Some"
times-be was  to edge quite close tn‘the. lad 

_./

 

 

\

Here and there remnants of fires were smoldering, and here

7 be feared, and the trapper could not help concluding that they

'rested by an Indian, who was moving slowly down the stream, » » a;

had and shoulders shove the bank. From his paint and the,

mo minim.

otherswa obliged to make a considerable detour, to escape
observation. His principal object was, to determine the ex.
act location of the camp, and to calculate, as nearly as possible,
the number of warriors it contained. ‘
All was quiet in the village, and there were no signs of life,
except that, hem and there, an Indian stood or walked among
the lodges, as if standing sentry over his sleeping companions. ;

 

and there, also, the trapper perceived the shield, head-dress and";
lnsignia of a chief, displayed on a pole in front of his lodge.‘
A few horses were secured within a small inclosure, and a
large number were grazing in an open portion of the plain.
It was evident that the Blackfeet considered themselves in such
large force, or in such a secure position, that no attack was to

were right in their belief, for there was no party of their foes
in that region with which he would have ventured to assail
them. -
Having completed his investigations in this quarter, Bush
made a circuit around the drove of horses, in order to reach r
the stream, and survey the situation from that side. Keeping
tlose to the bank of the little river, he worked his way through
the thick growth of cottonwoods and willows, until he was
again nearly opposite the encampment. First looking care-
fully around, to make sure that he was not observed, he was
about to move toward the lodges, when his attention was ar-

 

close under the edge of the bank, with his head and shoulders
above the water, and a rifle in his hand. *
The first thought of the trapper was, that Red Plume had
also made the circuit of the village, with the same purpose as
himself; but he reflected that the renegade had no rifle, and
concluded that it must be a prowling Blackfoot. It was no-
cessary, therefore, that he should be concealed until the Indian
passed, and he availed himself of the shelter of a bush, from
which he could observe the movements of his supposed (be.
His surprise was considerable, and thennpleasant nature of
his situation was apparent, when he saw the Indian stop op-
po’site where he lay, place his rifle on‘ the shore, and raise his

\

 

   
   
     
 

\\ ’ u , r s U

weer-m,

ith if; .

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
  

 

xv mes. ‘ - ' ‘fl’
nyle of his hair, it was at once evident that he was not s I
Blackfoot. and there was something about his features that V
seemed familiar to the trapper. As the Indian turned his face,
so that his profile came in view, Bush was certain that he
knew him, and uttered a low hiss to attract his attention. The
Indian quickly turned, and looked anxiously around.

“ Beaver l” whispered the trapper.

The Delaware-—for it was he—laid his hand on his rifle.

“ Don’t be skeered, Beaver, for it’s only me. Bill Bush."

As Bush spoke, he raised his head above his shelter, and
Black Beaver, without the least visible emotion of surprise or
excitement, crawled up on the bank and came to him.

Few words were spoken between them, and they quietly
pused over the route by which the trapper had come, until
they reached the place at which he was to meet Kotselo.

,

C H A P T E R X I
A COPPER-COLORED enosr.

“Wm’s that Yankee who went ed“ with ye, Beaver 2"
uked the trapper, when they had reached the appointed spot,
end were beyond the hearing and observation of those in the
village. ' ‘

“ Eben‘s mighty big medicine ’mong Blackfeet, now," one
swered the Delaware, with a. chuckle.

“ What do you mean ‘2”

“ He walk ’round the lodges, with his long arrow and lariat
and all Blackfeet rub their noses, and open their eyes wide."

“Wal. that beats Bill Hutchins and the UM l~ The biggest -
wonder is that. he’s alive. He must hev’ been playin’ on the
Blackfeet some of those infal'nnl Yankee tricks that I’ve heard
of. Do you know how he got such 3 bolt onto ’em 2"

“Don’t know, but he‘s mighty big medicine. Heard one
Blackfoot say that chief was killed deed, mighty dead, one
lbw make him alive. right:ewsy.” . . , . ‘
- “Thou Yonkers best mmm  '

,/

  

   

'10. m enema:

I wonder why thar’ don't more of ’em git arter the beam
’Spect they’d find snthin’ then to try that’ cunnin’. I rather
reckon, Delaware, that the chief wasn't very dead. Ef’ he should
die on the Yankee’s hands, now, thar’d be one white man
sculped in a hurry, and wuss'n that. It’s likely to happen,
anyhow, unless we kin git him out. Why don’t he make
tracks, et he is so smart ?" ,

“ Ugh] Blackfeet don’t want to lose such big medicine
and watch him mighty close. Nice white gal thar’, too.”

“ That's a fact. I wonder, now, wlmr’ that Injun of mine
is? I wish the rip would come along, for the boys will be
thinkin’ we’ve got into a scrape. It can’t be possible that he
has gone back to his tribe, or he would have had them about
our ears afore this.”

The trapper spoke musingly, and looked in the direction
from which he expected the renegade to come. As he did so,
he saw Red Plume running toward them, his long feather
streaming back on the night breeze, his face almost pale, and
his countenance expressive of the greatest terror. Bush was
surprised, and showed that he was, but he was confident that
the Indian was not pursued, for he would not, if a. legion of
enemies were at his back, have exhibited such symptoms of
fear, and have fled in such a headlong manner. He waited,
therefore, calmly, until Red Plume came up, nearly exhausted
by his labor and excitement.

“ Wnl, here‘s a crazy Injun i What in natur’ is the mat-
ter with you ?"

“ Kotsclo has seen a spirit 1" answered the renegade, as soon
as he could recover his breath sufficiently to speak.

The trapper and the Delaware started, for both were super
stitious, and not only believed that the spirits of the dead some;
times revisited the earth, but were sure that they themselves
had been witnesses of such visitations. Bush, however, art'-
fected to laugh at the astounding declaration, and ordered the
renegade to explain himself, which he did in the Blackfeet I
tongue, as his English was not equal to such a task. 

“Kotsclo went. to the village,” said he. “I crept like a .
snake, so that none could see or hear me, but my eyes endear!
were open. All was quiet, and 1 went where I chose; anti) a
dog mandala-irked at me. 31:71 knew the demand-spoke ,4

 

 "71'.

to him, and he barked no more. I counted the lodges, as

many as I could, and saw what chiefs were there. Some war-

‘ riors were talking, and I listened, and heard them speak of a
great war-party. I lett the village, and went tothe river-
side, among the bushes. Then I came back to meet you, and
tell you what I had seen and heard. I was just beyond the
lodges, and was walking fast, When there suddenly rose out of
the - ground a great, tall form, all covered with a scarlet
blanket. I raised my knife, for I thought I had met a Black-
foot warrior, when the blanket fell ofl', and I saw before me
the spirit of the man I slew—I saw N ip-muck-we l"

Here the renegade shuddered, and covered his eyes with his
hands, as if the fearful object was again before him, and the
trapper and the} Delaware looked at. each other, as if they
were more than half ready to share his terror.

“I shut my eyes for a moment,” continued Red Plume,
“ because I was so afraid, for I had never seen a spirit before,
and this w \s the spirit of the man I had killed. It makes me
afraid now when I think of his eyes, that were like balls of
fire, ana tlte hand that pointed at me, that shone like the fire
we see in rotten wood. I opened my eyes, but he was gone
,_—he hau sunk into the ground again. I looked no more,

. but ran, and hardly knew what I did, until I met you here.”

It must be confessed that Bush and the Delaware did not
entirely disbelieve this tale of the supernatural; in fact, they
were strongly inclined to credit, it. Their opinions on that
,point, though not then expressed to each other, were quite
similar. They did not doubt the current report among the
Blackfeet, that the Fat Bear had- been raised to life by Eben
Gookin ; but they thought it highly probable that the Indians,
by some “Yankee trick,” had been imposed upon. If Eben
had really cured him, it was not likely that the chief would

- have been out at night, beyond the lodges, and would have
appeared and disappeared in such a mysterious manner. The
t great terror of Red Plume, and their own supernatural im-.
pulses, persuaded‘them that the chief either had not been
’ resuscitated, or had afierward died “again 3’ and what was
' more'proboble than that his spirit should visit his murderer?
This view ofthe case,.however, was not the proper one .t' I >
 to the renegade, whose  were newsfla- u ‘y . 

V

 

BED FLUKE.

them in their undertaking, and they strove to cheer him up,
and to ridicule his vision. '

“Maybe so chief not so much dead," said Black Beaver.

“That’s so,” chimed in the trapper. “ We know, fur sart’in,
Red Plume, that the Blackfeet say the old wretch is livin’ yet,
and likely to live. You didn‘t quite kill him, you see, and
thar’ comes a big medicine-man among the Blackfeet, who
cured him up, and made him quite lively again.”

This explanation afforded the renegade a little consolation,
but it did not materially help the case, as he was still dis-
posed to regard the vision in the same light as before, espe-
cially, as it was plain to him that neither the Delaware nor
the trapper argued the point very earnestly. '

“Kotselo has seen the spirit of Nip-muck-we, and he must
die,” he said, as he sadly accompanied Bush and Beaver to the
rendezvous at which they had left their horses and their friends.

Steele and Carver greeted Black Beaver, and eagerly in:
quired what they had seen and heard. As the adventure of
Red Plume was the most exciting news, that “>118 first related,
and it provoked a variety of comment. The two young men
laughed at the idea of ghosts, and maintained that the renev
gade had been laboring under an optical delusion, or had
really seen the Fat Bear alive and in the flesh. But the
young Blackfoot was not to be convinced, the Delaware was
silent, and the trapper solemnly shook his head.

“ Thar’s no use in tellin’ this hoss, Cap’n Frank,” said he,
“that thar’s no ghosts You are better larnt man than 010
Bill Bush, both of ye, fur all the l’arnin’ I’ve got hes been
picked up out yere 'in the wilderness; but what I've
seen and heerd, that I‘ve seen and heerd, and that I '
ken swar’ to. Thar’ was an old pardner of mine,
one Bill Hutchins, the same as had the three-cornered
fight with the b’ar, what you’ve heern me tell of. Hutch and
I had trapped and hunted together in thesé‘parts, goin’ on ten
year, and ef that don’t make friends of two folks, thar’s nothin’ ,
will. We fought sometimes, of course, but I ken say for.
Hutch that he never hit me once arter I'd hollered, and sich a ,,
fi’iend as that is wuth havin’. . , '

“Wal, Hutch and I war’ trappin', one seasom’way up
above the heada'fork of the Salmon,‘in the mountings, what
, , A r . .

 

u . \ ~ '
A TALE OF THE SUI’ERNATURAL‘

f‘reckon, no white man or Injun hed ever been afore. One
momin’ Hutch lefl: camp, and went up to look at the traps,
and he come back missin’——that is, he never come back ag’in.
Day in and day out, fur more’n a week, I hunted through
cveiy hill and gully, every hole and corner in all that reach,
but no sign could I see of Hutch. I ’lowed, of course, that
he’d been killed; but, what had become of his hod‘

was too high a honeycomb fur this b’ar to climb to. 5‘.

I loaded up the skins and traps, and went back to the soul - ‘,

ment, but I could never quit thinkin’ ’bout Hutch.

“ Next summer, I was layin’ ofi‘ at Laramie, and was

snoozin’ right sound one night, when I woke up. and saw

_ Hutch standiu’ by my blanket. It kinder started me, 1 4d-
’ mit, but he looked mighty nateral, and I spoke to him‘.

“" Hallo, Hutch 1’ says I, ‘ whar‘ in creation did you coma
from ?’

“ ‘ No matter whar‘ I come from,’ says he. ‘ It’s lucky fox
You, old boss, that I'm dead, or I’d wallop you for not findiu

3e and buryin’ me.’ ..

“ ‘I did my best, Hutch,’ says I; ‘I hunted all over one
on, but couldn't find a sign of ye.’

“ ‘ Tlien,’ says he, ‘ you must be one of the dumdest fools
utside the settlements, fur I was right under the Devil’s Table.
.id I’m thar’ yit, and I want to be buried.’

“ He made me promise to find him and bury him, and wan
)fl‘ like a flash. ' '

“ Next mornin’, as soon as I could git my outfit together, I
was off for the Salmon. It was a long journey, but I got
thar’ at last, and p’inted right for the Devil’s Table, and then
I wondered I hadn’t hunted thar’ afore. It was a flat rock,
that we hed giv’ that name to, reachin’ out over a narrow
cafion, some sixty feet deep. I lied mighty hard work to gi:
down into it, but thar’ I was at last, and thur’ I found, jist as
his ghost had told me, Hutch’s bones and part of his clothes.
I buried them, and hev’ wondered ever sence, how he could
hev’ been seek a durned fool as to fall down into that cation.

* Now, Cap’n Frank,” continued the narrator, with an air of
triumph, “ what do you think of that? P’raps ye don’t be-
A lieve me.” '

5“] believe,” answered Steele, “that you were 

I

 

 

V

'74

'MDPLUMR-

about the 1 )ss ot your partner, and wondering what had beeotpe'

of him, until you dreamed about him, and the remembrance of
the only spot you had not searched came to you in your dream.”

“ Wal, I declar’ that’s too Iii’son badl I thought ye her}
more sense. Cap’n Frank. Why, it’s plain as a wagon-trail
that Hutch’s ghost told me about it.”

“ So be it; I am glad he is at rest now. I want to hear
what you learned about the Blackfeet and our friends.”

Black Beaver could only say that Eben Gookin, in his
(opacity of big medicine, was still there, and that ‘Ellen
Carver was still there, but that he had had no further oppor-

tunity of communicating with them. Bush gave an estimate-

of the strength of the camp, and the renegade reported a con-
versation that he had heard between some warriors, the pur-
port of which was, that a strong war-party, to be led by the
principal chief, was shortly to set out, and that a suflicient
guard would be left with the women and children at the camp.

This information was considered of sufficient importance to
demand immediate action, as there were no bodies of men in
the neighborhood against which a war-party would he likely to
be sent, except Captain Frank Steele and his friends. It was
agreed that a messenger should be immediately dispatched to
the camp, to put them on their guard against attack, and the
renegade was selected for that duty. He was willing to go, as
he was quite depressed in spirits, and was anxious to leave
the scene of his late adventure. He was a brave man, and

never flinched from fighting fleshly foes, but a ghostly antag-'

onist was, to use a popular phrase, “ too much for him.”
The others determined to remain, for the purpose of watch-
ing the Blackfeet camp, and taking advantage of any opportu-
Ety that might be ofi‘ered.

CHAPTER XII
rammrxons or nan;

Em Goons did not find his situation at all improved by I

the removalof the Blackfeet to their new camp. In the first
pkce,he was obliged to perform the journey on horseback.

 

mm

vhich was very detrimental to‘ his dignity, and greatl; in.
terfercd with his management of the 'Big Medicine Arrow.
Indeed, he was often fearful of losing that invaluable talisman,
and only preserved it at the cost of considerable bodily terror
and discomfort. He would far rather have walked, but the
old warrior, who had compelled him to efi'ect the cure oi
Nipmuck-we, was ready to show his enmity on this, as on
: other occasions, and insisted that it was entirely out of the
;¢wstion for so distinguished a physician to walk like squaws or
"aher common peopic, and that he must really furnish the bearer
of the Big Medicine Arrow with a horse. He brought a horse,
accordingly, and such a horse’ l—~a tall, gaunt, hard-bitted,
vicious, sharp. backed, angular, hard-trotting beast, fit for neither
men nor monkeystto ride. _Poor Eben looked at this archi- , »
.tcctural animal with a moth] countenance, for he dreaded a
shipwreck in the wilderness more than he ever had in the wildest
night on a lee shore. But there was no help for it, and he
accepted the “favor” in pretty muich the same spiritin which
it was offered.
In the second place, he was troubled about Nip-muck-we.
That adipose Chieftain was in no condition to be moved, and
any consulting physician would have pronounced such a course
to be little short of murder-Nevertheless, the Blackfeet had
unlimited confidence in the abilities of their Big Medicine, and
'I probably thought that it was of no consequence if the Fat Bear
should die a few times more, as he could be so easily returned
to the world. Therefore the chief must go and, although Eben
nausea him to be placed in a litter and carried as carefully as
gossible, he was continually in fear lest the journey would
"astray the old fellow’s remanant of vitality, and the Black-
het would call on the medicine-man for another experiment.

“Darn my buttons l” he thought, “ they sart’inly can’t ex
. pect a feller to bring the same man to life mm! But I’ll
‘ bet my harpoon against a tin Sixpence, that they jist would.
Confound their ugly pictur’s i if they do run afoul my hnwscr,
'I'll send the old shooter through one on ’em, I kr aw i”

Eben was agreeably disappointed, for, in spite of his fears
3 m3 prognostications, he reached his journeys' end in safety, _ ~
' together with his patient, and was relieved, at last, from _ g
 of his hard-trotting steed, It in  I

 

l 78 " 4 ma non '

experience -of the 'day had left him with aching bones and
smarting flesh, but he bore these afflictions bravely, and they
only served to increase the rigid solemnity of his countenance.

More trouble awaited him.' After he had safely deposited
N ip-muck-we on his couch in his lodge, and had attended to
his wounds, he left him in thecare of the old. medicin
woman, and went to seek his fair cousin. He SOOD discov
cred that she had been placed in a lodge by herself, and we.

' closely guarded. He learned that this had been done by the;
order of old As-moo-tah, who was reserving the white maiden
until she could be taken as a. bride by her brother, the Fat
’ Bear. He felt that his request would not be granted, if he

should ask permission to see her, and was sure thatit would
be very impolitic to make such an application. Consequent-
ly, he contented himself with inward anathemas.

“'Confound the pesky critturs i" he thought. “ Darned if
I don’t believe they will beat me yet. I’m gittin’ doubtful
whether all Massachusetts could swindle ’em much. If I ’
thought there was any fear that cousin Nelty would ever be
the squaw of that ugly old chief, he wouldn’t live an hour,
if they burnt me for it afore morning i” ‘

Trouble on trouble‘s head accumulates. It never rains but
it pours. Eben Gookin soon had cause enough to believe
that serious poet, who said : _

“ Oh, what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practice to deceive l"

The old warrior who had so kindly favored him with his
blistering barb, and whose mellifluous name was Ash-ne-cow-
me—no-qua, again approached him, and desired his medical
services. The fact is, that the crusty and spiteful old fellow
with the hard name thought he knew a thing or two, and- it
shrewdly suspected that the Yankee was a humbug. it
was, also, determined to test the truth of his suspicions.

He stated, through the interpreter, that he had heard the
medicine-man say that the Big Arrow could make the woman 5
of the Blackfeet beautiful, and desired to be informed whethet " t
he had heard aright, or whether a little bird had whispered it
to him. _

“ I calli'ilate there won‘t never be no hummin‘ birds  1

‘ shout yourears, you camnkerous old scamp t" commenced 

 

I,

.“ 'v- ‘sfl:

M; but be cooled down, as lte saw theinecessity of control-
.ling his wrath, and gravely informed the inquirer that the Big
Arrow could do that very thing.

He was then told that As-moo—tah. the sister of the Fat
Bear, whom the medicine-man had so wonderfully brought to
life, was a Widow, and could get no husband, because she was
old and ugly. It was desired that the power of the Big
Medicine Arrow should be tried upon her, in order that she
‘ night become handsome, and have favor in the eyes of the

’ warriors. Would the white man do her that kindness?
Of course he would; and be was politely requested to per-
’ form the contract as soon as possible.

Eben Gookin felt that he was in a scrape. ’To effect a.
temporary purpose—the preservation of his valuable life—he
had boasted of the virtues of his weapon more extensively
than he would have done, under less exciting circumstances.
He now had an absolute impossibility presented to him, for

- it was certain that nothing short of the fabled fenntain of
eternal youth could add a particle of beauty or grace to the
wrinkled cheeks and decrepit form of that horrid old hag.

', Still, the resolute Yankee did not despair; he thought, and
a “ calculated." '

“ Darn my buttons if I don‘t do it i” he muttered at length.
“If it comes to the wust, I can remove her to another sp’ere,

V: to brightly bloom in beauty there. Jehosaphatl what would
elder Shepley say to that pomel If I can’t make her purty
in this world, I can send her to the next, and, as the Injuns

' are all Universalists, she’ll be sure to be a blessed angel.”

Having come to this conclusion, Eben went to his lodge,

1 mt! “ coiled up ” by the side of his beloved harpoon.

I But it seemed as if fate had selected our Yankee friend for

I ts special football that night, as if his troubles were des-
:lr.ed to have no termination but a bloody one. 'I-Iis most
serious difficulty was to come, and it happened in this wise;

Old Nip-muck-we, notwithstanding the care of Eben and

- his attendants, had been seriously shaken up during his jott-
’ ’ney, and, as night set in, a burning fever set into his body
5 and brain. It increased, it_raged, it became delirium. The
. ,old’ medicinewoman, in whose charge he had been left, had
imbibed one of her own Iedofire'draugbts, and slept soundly

 

mmm‘ :

on a bnflaloskin. The chief was restless and perturbed; his
fever gave him temporary strength; he rose from his couch,
threw a red blanket over his fat form, and sallied out of the
lodge, without waking the old woman. He walked forth,
unnoticed and unnoticing, not knowing where he went, be» /
yond the village, into the wooded plain. ,

He had not gone ,far before he missed his uncertain foot.-
ing, and fell feebly into‘a small gully. He must have lain
there along time, but he regained his disordered senses at last,
and succeeded in crawling out of the gully and standing up-‘
right. As he did so, the form of a warrior passed before him.
He threw aside his blanket to look at it, and instantly recog-
nized, or thought he did, the hated and dreaded features of
his rival and would-be-murderer, Kotselo, the Red Plume!
The sight was too much for the weak mind and body of'
the wounded chief. He imagined nothing else than that he
was to be assassinated, and that. sure work was to be made
of it this time. Full of fear and horror, he threw up his
hands, one of which was shining with phosphorus from
some decayed wood by which he had lain, and, with a groan,
dropped back into the ditch. _

The old medicine-woman awoke after a while, missed her
patient, and raised a howl that speedin aroused the village.
Men and women came flocking to the lodge, and speedily
learned, to their surprise and terror, that the chief was miss-

. ing. Search was made on all sides, and it was not long be-
fore Nip-muck-we was discovered, speechless and nearly
dead, in the gully where he had fallen. The poor wretch was
carried to his lodge, and laid on his coach again, and the
white medicine-man was immediately summoned to account
for the calamity that had befallen his patient.

Eben could only do so by telling the truth, and saying that
he had lt-fi the old woman in charge of the chief, that she
had probably gone to sleep, and Nip-muck-we, in a delirium 
caused by fever, had strayed 'out and fallen'in ’a faint. _ _V

This story was probable enough"; but the Indian woman ,,
stoutly denied that she had been asleep, and as stoutly aur- ~ 
red that the white medicinem-an had come into thelodge, f
had terrified her until she lost her stances. and had taken the. '
Wupbfiflymnd carried men‘swey. '7 V : g

 

.‘, .

manna-meant.  79

   
 

The Yankee was unable to prove an alibi,as he had dept ’
alone; but he endeavored to convince his audience of the
extreme improbabili-ty'of the old woman’s account,showing
that he could hardly lift the Fat Bear, much less carry him
’ from the lodge, saying that it was his business to cure, net to

kill, and arguing that no physician would be so foolish,» to

seek to make way with his patient, after doing all he could to

 g save his life. _

i , His statements and arguments were received with manifest g
I’  Y tokens of dissent. Some Of the Blackfeet actually believed 
L. '/ the marvelous story of the old woman, and others were

, simply incredulous concerning the Yankee. Their disanpro-
bation was made known to him,and he was ordered to, set
_ to work and cure the chief without delay. In the mean time,
: * a guard was placed at the lodge, and one or more warriors fol-
lowed him wherever he went.
.- Eben applied himself to his task with aisad and despondent
V,» ’" heart. It was plain that he had lost caste with the Bla :kfeet
 He had risen to the highest rank as a medicine-man very and-
denly, and appeared likely to fall as rapidly. He had gone
up like a rocket, and seemed destined to-come down like a
stick. He had achieved wonders in the eyes of the Indians,
but—he had done nothing since. He must do something to
A» regain his prestige, and what that something _should be, was a
' ,  problem that the Yankee laboriously racked his brain to solve.
 It was necessary, above all things, that hershould keep-life in
Nip-muck-we, if he wished to retain his own life, and he lost
no time in doing all he could for that diflicult subject.
1 In the morning, when ‘he had succeeded in putting some show
i , of life into the Fat Bear, Eben was visited by a delegation of
‘  chiefs and warriors, who desired to consult him concerning a
grand war-party that was to start out that day. The expedi-
tion was to be a very important one, and they wished the dis-

 

 

>linguished medicine-man and prophet to inform them whether \ 
,8 would succeed. , _ ’ 
Here was a new perplexity for the Yankae; a question was > ;

presented which he felt himself no more competent to decide, I 
than to solve a problem in difi'erential calculus. Something ,' v 
first be done, however, and be [resolved to make a rough , _ ' .
I mrmd trust to luck‘for the fulfillment of the prophecy I,“ a,

    

 

t  :tnm. _

hoping, in the mean time, that it might be possible {11" him to
escape from the complications that surrounded him.

He consulted his harpoon, with the usual gibberish, carefully
examined the sky, and at last announced that the expedition
would certainly succeed, unless there should be rain. The
Blackfeet dignitaries received this information with all due
gravity, and before noon 3 war-party, comprising most of the
braves of the camp, set out for the prah-ie, after singing the

unsung, followed by the acclamations of their friends and

.e anathemas of Eben.

CHAPTER XIII.
moms!) mm

Rm PLm rode rapidly, after leaving Bush and his come

panions, to bear to his friends and theirs the tidings of the threatp
ened attack of the Blackfeet. He first reached the camp of
the white men, and communicated his intelligence to Captain
Steele. That gentleman listened to his statements with great
composure, and inquired concerning the probable numbers and
arms of the hostile Indians, but seemed more particularly anx-
ious to obtain information with regard to his son and his
‘ friends, and the white captive in the Blackfeet camp.

The Renegade told him that Frank Steele, David Carver and
Bill Bush were safe; that they had been joined by Black
Beaver, and were encamped near the Indians, watching for an-
opportunity to cti‘cct the rescue of Ellen Carver and Eben
t}ookiu. ' n
v' This was the first intelligenCe that had been received an
Captain Steele‘s camp of the capture of Eben. No one was
Iurprlscd to learn that he had been taken,.hut all wondered
that he was still alive.

With regard to the captives, the renegade could only giro

the information that he had received from Black Benetflo,

" the mica that Ellen was living, but that nothing was known»

3 -

other condition, and that Eben was strutting about them "

 

u *mmcm

harpoon in hand, universally acknowledged and respected“

a great medicine-man, it being believed by the Blackfeet that ,

he could not only cure the sick, but could bring the dead to
life. ' , ,
This announcement was received with much surprise, as
well as gratification.‘

“ Was he educated as a physician, Mrs. Carver ?” asked Cap
vain Steele. “ I remember an instance of an eastern herb
. t'octor, who was also something of a surgeon, who was taken

by the Rickarees, and not only was his life spared, but they
kept him in captivity for several years, until a lucky chance
enabled him to effect his escape.”

“ Precious little he knows about medicine, captain,” answer~
ed the lady. “ He ’tended an apothecary’s shop when he was
young, and may have picked up a little knowledge, but that is
all.”

“He must have imposed upon the Indians, then, by some
Yankee trick, or by the most extraordinary impudence.”

“ Eben is capable of either the trick or the impudence, sir.

He ,was always a s'capegrace, and continually getting into dif-
ficulty.”

“ In that case, it will not be long before the Blackfeet dis-
cover and expose the imposture, and there will be an end to

his doctoring and his life. I Wish we could do something for
him and your daughter, but we are now ourselves threatened
with an attack, and it is much better to meet these scoundrels
on our own ground than on theirs. Besides, my son and Bill
Bush are on their trail, and they will do all that men can dq
under the circumstances.”

Although Captain Steele received with composure the news
If the hostile intentions of the Blackfeet, he did not omit to
make all proper preparations for the defense of his camp.
.IIe ranged his wagons, bales and packs on three sides of a hol-
low square, the fourth side being protected by the river;
brought all his animals within the inclosure, where they were
Well secured, and ordered all the men to have their arms in
' readiness to repel an attack at any moment. He felt secure.
‘relyingon his barricade, and the-rifles in the hands of his

' ,Wn people and the free truppers who I had collected, in hit-f

 

/

mum"

As soon as hehad furnished Captain Steele with all the in»
formation he possessed, Red Plume hastened to the camp of
the Nez Percés, where he had left his La-la, and communi-
cated to them the intelligence of the threatened demonstration
by the Blackfeet. '

To his astonishment, the tidings were received by his '
adopted tribe even more coolly than they had been by Captain
Steele. The sages got together, it is true, and sagcly smoked
over the matter, as calmly as the good burghers of New An.-
.Blerdam, when‘ the English fleet was coming up the bay; bl“:
they we:e utterly apathetic, and seemed to have no intention
of preparing for defense. I

The renegade was more than astonished, he Was indignant.
His fiery Blackfoot blood could not conceive of such pusillan-v
imity, such blind and stupid waiting upon Providence. He
made them a speech, full of enthusiasm and eloquence, well
calculated to stir up their warlike feelings and incite them to
action. He reminded them of the many wrongs they had
suffered at the hands of the Blackfeet, of their stolen horses,
(thetr burned and plundered villages, their young men slain,
their women and children carried into captivity. Were they
wilting that these outrages should be continued without end P
Were they ready to be entirely exterminated by their remorse-
leas enemies, and wiped from the face of the earth? He
pointed to their fine drove of horses, scattered over the plain,
and asked if they wished that they, too, should become the
prey of the. boasting despoiler. In conclusion, he urged them
to remember their duty and honor as men, as well as their
wives and children and their property, and to prepare, like
warriors, to repulse the attack in such a manner that the Black-

feet should remember that the N62 Percés were no more tube

Med with. , 7 .,

When Red Plume sat down, he was answered by an old
‘chief. who threw a wet blanket upon his ardor.

This individual wanted to know whether old men were to
be‘ diatated to by a boy? And who was this boy? A Black- ’
foot himself, who had been kindly admitted into their tribe,
and was he to take are lead in their deliberations? How

’.|h0tlld it be known that he had spoken the truth} The],
and not heard of any considerable numberof Blackfeet in 

 

   
 

it,

a

t 

3»
.l,‘
.3:

   
 
 
 
 
 
  

' wealth of the prairies.
[even for her sake would he refrain from taking yengeance on
‘he tribe in which 'he‘ had,.been ,humiliat

2mm. 83 ‘

region, and did not suppose that they would dare toventure
near the whites. Why should they fight, unless they were
obliged to? Why should they expose themselves to be slain,
unless a fight was forced upon them? If the Blackfeet came,
they would content themselves with taking the horses, and
the Néz Percés could easily procure others. Was it not better
’to lose the horses, than the lives of their young men? If
they were obliged to fight, and were worsted, they could as.
tire upon the camp of the whitc men, where they would be
safe. When the Blackfeet came, they would .find the Ne;
Percés ready for them; but they would prefer to see, before
they beliewd.

Notwithstanding their promise to be ready, these heroes did
nothing but send their women and children to the cover of
Captain Steele’s camp. Their horses were still allowed to
roam the plains, as if for a temptation to marauders, and they
themselves smoked and talked as calmly and uncoucernedly
as if there were no Blackfeet in the world. -

Such Quaker-like conduct, as may be supposed, did not suit
the hot-hearted renegade, and he quitted his allies in disgust,
in order to place his La-la under the protection of the whites.
For his own part, he was determined to fight, if he had to
fight on his own hook. . ' V

On the way, he told La-la how he had seen the spirit of old
N ip-muck-we; how it had mysteriously risen out of the ground,
and as mysteriously disappeared; how it had glared upon him
with fiery eyes, and had pointed at him with a hand all
aflame; how he had fled from it in fear; and how it was
reported in the Blackfeet camp that the “at Bear hadbeen
brought to‘life.

Ila-la was greatly frightened by the account of the ghostly
vision. She, as well as her ver, placed nr faith in the
rumored resuscitation of the chief, but fully believed that _
Kotselo had seen the ghost of the murdered man, and that
Such a visitation betokened his speedy death. She entrusted

him, with tears, to keep out of the fight, for she was sure he

would be slain, and she would not lose him then for anti"
But, her lever was obstinate; not

‘ . e (

 

eds- answerer.  ii"?

  
 

mm FLUKE.

Were cowards; he would show them how a brave man could.
fight, and then they would be glad to admit him to their councils.

The Blackfeet did not make their appearance until late in
the afternoon of the next day, and then, as might have been
expected, they suddenly poured down, brandishing their
weapons and shouting their war-cries, upon the almost defense-
less camp of the Non Percés. Their attention was distracted
for a time by the fine drove of horses that was so enticingly
spread about upon the plain, and they applied themselves'to
stumpeding the animals, and driving them of? in the direction
of their own camp.

This gave the peaceful owners of the animals time to seize g
their weapons, and -'to fall back on Captain Steele, not in-very
good order, ,however. But they were too late, even then, for
their warlike assailants were soon upon their heels, sending in
among them volleys. of arrows and bullets, and compelling V
them to make a stand in their own defense, to save themselves
from being run over and destroyed.

It must be confessed that, when cornered, they fought like
men, availing themselves of every cover and inequality in the
ground, and using their weapons with good effect against their
mounted antagonists. They lost many in killed and wounded,
but had the satisfaction of laying low a number of the Black-
feet, and slowly retreated, fighting all the way, until they
reached the extemporized fortification of Captain Steele.

The renegade, who had procured a rifle, mounted his horse
at the first onset of the Blackfeet, and galloped into the melee,
shouting his war-cry, and breathing defiance against his former
companions-in-arms. He was always in. the front, encourag-
ing his new allies by word and action, using his rifle with
marked efi'ect; and seeming to be inspired by fury and'des-
aeration, rather than by valor. file Was struck in the leg with
an arrow, but continued to fight, until the remnant of the de-
feated party had reached the shelter of the barricades.

The Blackfeet, elated by the acquisition of such a valuable,
booty, and intoxicated by their easy victory over those they
had dcspoiled, conceived the rash idea of attacking the camp
of the white men. They would not have been so foolhardy,
perhaps,’if they had lkndwn the force ready to meetjthan;

7‘but. they yere so excited as to be nearly crazy; expecting t3, 1;! L

 

AN ATTACK um -mm

‘ werpower the hunters and trappers, and to win a rich harvest
in their camp. They ought, also, to have been deterred from

k 'such an undertaking, by the rememxifance 0f the prophesy of
their medicine-mun with the big WWW, for he had told them

'that their expedition would be successful, if no rain should
fall, and a shower had commenced during their conflict with
the Néz Percés.

The rain did not dampen their ardor in the least. on the:

-. came, galloping and yelling, as if they meant to ride rigl z)
' ’over the barricade and through the camp. '

Captain Steele had not attempted to assist the N62 Pereés,
because it was against his rule to interfele in any conflicts
among the Indians; but, when he saw that the Blackfeet Were
preparing to make an attack upon him, he did not try to con-
ceal his joy, for he hoped to give those banditti of the wilder-
ness a lesson that they would be likely to remember.

As the painted, yelling horde dashed on toward the wagons,
discharging their arrows and fusees, he did not give the word
to fire, until they were quite close, and then such a volley of
rifle-bullets was poured into them, as sent them back much
faster than they had come. I

When beyond range, they halted, and faced about, as if as.
tonished; and then, wheeling to the left, made the circuit of
the barricade, and attacked it on-tlie other side. Again they
d'ashed on, as fiercely and as confidently as before; again they
were allowed to approach near the line of wagons, and again
they were met by the murderous volley of those terrible rifles,
which sent them ofi‘ in utter confusion“ They stopped not for
their dead or their wounded, and never looked back, its they
Iped away over the prairie. I

Captain Steele, seeing how completely they were routed, in-
dandy resolved to follow up h'w advantage, and punish the”
do severely that they would never molest white menragnin.
Like a skillful General, he lost no timC, hit ordered all his men,
except a strong guard for the camp, to mount and pursue,
The order was quickly and joyfully obeyed, all the free-trap-

. pers gladly volunteering to join in such excellent “sport.” I
The. renegade, who had bound up his wounded leg, could not
he dissuaded from accompanying them. and he was followed
p, L343: WM M4 seized one of file 119th or the slain 1am

 

      
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
       
   
   

 
  

'86 mum

The pacific Nez Percés occupied themselves in ,endeavoring to
collect their horses, which had been stampeded at the com-
mencement of the fight.

The white men did not overtake the flying Blackfeet, until _ ;
the latter had safely reached their camp, which,“ has been ‘ ,  :
stated, was located in a valley by the side of a small river. " ‘., -’
Advancing up the valley they found their way obstructed by a
rude sort of hreastwork of logs, brushwood and earth, which
the Indians had hastily thrown up, as a defense against attack. ,
Behind this the Blackfeet lay and waited for them, and , f 
greeted them, on their approach, with a vigorous dis‘charge of
of arrows and fusees. Including those who had been left at
the camp, the Indians then numbered about one hundred and
fifty, while there were only eighty of the whites.

As the odds were not to be counted, if the enemy could be
got at, Captain Steele ordered his men to dismount, to picket 
their horses well in the rear, to take such cover as they could 4, ‘7
find, and advance against the breastwork as they chose. The  y ‘
position was as follows: The breastwork that fronted the :- ~
white men was at the narrowest part of the heavily timbered '}:
plain, closed in on the right by the river, and on the left by :. I

’ wooded bluff. .

As there was plenty of cover, the men were able to push
up within good range of the breastwork, and to deliver their : _
tire with good precision, but without much eti‘ect, while they q:
were continually annoyed by themissiles of their antagonists
This was too slow work for Captain Steele, especially as it
Was now night, although the moon was shining, and it was
possible that the Blackfeet might escape under cover of the
night. It was necessary to turn the enemy‘s position.

Accordingly, he ordered twenty-five picked men to ford the 
river, make a detour, recross at a point above the village, and 
full upon the rear of the Blackfeet, while he would keep them
occupied in front.

In less than an hour, the rifles of the picked party, and I
commotion among the Indians before him, told that the at-
tack had been made, and the men under his command
charged the breastworks with a. yell. ’

.At the same time, shots were heard {roman 
 from the hlufl' at the lelt. ' f

 

 

 

 

    

     

 

CHAPTER XIV.
FRANK smnnn’s summons;

3 Tim first thing that Bush, Carver and Frank Steele did,

._ .‘ unci- thew were joined by the Delaware, and Red Plume had

‘ L. , ' l ‘ left them, was to take their horses to a. secluded spot, at a

distance from the Indian encampment, where they would be

secure from observation, and where they might graze. The

1 next thing was, to lay themselves down to sleep, while Black
f . . Beaver, who had enjoyed a nap the previous day, kept watch.
After they had eaten their breakfast in the morning. the

Delaware, by the advice of Bill Bush, was sent to reconnoiter

the Blackfeet camp, and endeavor to gain some intelligence

m 1 concerning the captives. The two white men, as they could

. do nothing else, amused themselves in relating adventures
Bush telling tales of wild trapping and hunting exploits, and
Steele giving illustrations of life in the settlements. They
succeeded in surprising and amusing each other, and Were
thus enabled to while the hours awny, until the Delaware re-

' . turned, a little after noon.

-' V Black Beaver brought with him some strange trophies, the
head-dress, and all' the attire complete, of a Blackfoot war.
rior, blanket, leggings and moccasins, “ breech-clout,” girdle
and knife. Bill Bush greeted the Delaware cordially.

“ Hello, Beaver! Glad to see ye back, old boss. What’s
the news among the Blackfeet ?"

~ “Big war-party Went off this morniu’, more'n a hundred
terriers. Black Beaver see 'em. Bat 21 good many left in
camp.”

“ Jest as I s’posed. Reckon the; re gene arter Cap'n
Steele and his folks. They‘ll hev’ a n"..e job fightin’ that old
bar, C‘ap’n Frank. What‘s this you’ve brought, Beaver.
W118!” did you git those fixin’s "’

“ Blackfoot warrior follered and crawled arter me. Black

'. . - Bearer crawled too, and killed him with knife. Took 03‘ all

to M6. and brought ’91: here. Maybe so they come some

 

41”,

 

 
 

use. Black Beaver will put on these things, and make him-
self Blackfoot, and go to camp to-night.”

“ No, you won‘t, Beaver, if I can help it i” exclaimed
Steele. “That is just the job for me to do, and you have -
suited me finely this time. I can rig myself up, with your
help, to look as thorough a scoundrel and thief as any-of
them, and I can talk the Blackfeet lingo, too. Let me have
the things, Beaver, and I will go to the camp to-night, anl -
wilffsee the girl, if it is possible, and arrange a plan for her ,.
escape.” - I

The Delaware had no objection to this arrangement, as
Frank was so anxious to visit the camp, and Bush, after con-
siderable persuasion, was induced to consent to it, though he
feared that Frank would hardly be able to adopt the gait and
manner‘of an Indian.

Black Beaver took upon himself the duties of valet-de-
chambre. He arranged the young man's hair in the Black-
feet fashion, crowned his head with the arch of feathers, in-
dued him with “ breech-clout ” and leggings, and then, with
the pigments that he always carried, painted his face and
breast in the true Blackfeet style, and stained his hands and
arms a dirty copper-color. This done, he threw the blanket
over Steele‘s shoulders, and stepped off to admire his work.

\ “ I think it must be well done, Beaver," said Frank, “ for
I feel as if I could take a scalp at this minute, and as if I
could shoot a bow and arrow better than a rifle.” '

“ For my part,” said Bush, “ I think Beaver is a master-
hand. It Wouldn't be safe fur you to meet this boss at night
in that rig, Cap’n Frank. l‘ni kinder duherous about this
thing, though. Ef you should git rubbed out, the old In?“
would lay all the blame on me. Howsever, a willful n ‘
must have his Way, and when a gal is pullin' at one end ‘
the rope, thar’s no use in my layin’ hold on t’nther.”

Having refreshed himself with a hearty supper, young
Steele set out, just as it grew dark, on his perilous errand.
He was accompanied a part of the way by Bush, Carver, and
the Delaware, who took a station on the bluff, from which
they could plainly see the Indian village. ' .
' ‘V Frankrworked his way, carefully and silently, down the

,
a

in

~ f», «up and over the plain, until he reached thekxlgcs,  3p

 

.t '~ " ,'

s ‘m m nr'semsn

rose 10 his feet, and walked into the village as if he had just
some fr cm a short stroll. It was now dark, but several tires
were burning, and women and children, as well as men, were
moving idly about, or employed in various occupations. As
the young man saw that he attracted no attention, be con-
cluded that his disguise was complete, and walked where he
chose, wondering how and where he should find the place
'.»2' Ellen Curver’s imprisonment. As fate would have it, it
“as not long before he came in sight of the fair captivc’s
'cousin, Eben Gookin, the medicine-man of the Big Arrow,
whom he approached immediately. Eben was looking cross
and sulky, but there was a self-satisfied grin on his long
face, as if at least one thing had pleased him.

“ Ugh! medicine-man,” said Steele,- as he tapped this war-
thy on the shoulder; “ tell Injun one thing—is N ip-muck-we
dead ?”

“ No; of course he ain‘t,” snappishly replied Eben, as he
turned upon the inquirer. “ How do you s’pose he could b
dead, when I‘ve got the care of him ?” -

“,Ughl P’raps chief not so much dead when he come
to life.”

“ Look-a-here, you cantankerous red-skin, don‘t come
around me with any of your infarnal insinuations. If you
git me riled, I’ll send this big arrer through your copper-colored
carcass, quicker‘n you can say Jack Robinson 1” .

“ ’Sh-sh !" said Steele, in his natural tones. “ Don't show
that you know me. Iam Frank Steele." . - t

“ J e-mimal So you‘ve turned up at last. Where the dogs \
did you come from i” ‘ '

“Never mind. Speak softly, or we will be naticed. ‘I
5 we friends near, and have come to help you. -Can you “If
n e where your cousin Ellen is kept?"

“ I ook-a—here, mister; there's no use in your foolin' around
an that direction. I am keepin’ company with that gal, and
she is hnder my care.” -

" There is no use in speakin’ of that. Iam here to help a
you as well as her, and can do nothing, unless I find when
she is.” .

,_ " “Wail, if you can do sny‘thin’ in that line, I ham Ir
 for will, 10er in u all-fired :bnd scrape, and I calidlctcary: ~ "

 

\

80 ' no men.

health wlll suffer if I stay here much longer. Do you see
that lodge yonder, where the Injun is standing? That in
where cousin Nelly is, and that chap is on guar .”

“Thank you. Don’t follow or notice me.”

Frank slowly walked to the lodge‘that Eben had pointed
um, and stood by the side of the redvskin. His heart beat
|ulck1y, as he felt that he was near the fair captive. He
could think of only one plan to pursue—to take the place

' of the sentry, and watch his chance to steal away with‘
Ellen, under cover of the night. He spoke to the Indian‘
«1 the Blackfeet tongue.

“ Nip-muck—we is better.”

“ Ugh l”

“ The medicine-man thinks he will live.”

“ Ugh l”

“ Does the white maiden sleep 1’" he asked, as he looked in-
side of the lodge, and saw Ellen seated on a couch of skins.

“ Go away," said the stalwart Indian, as he pulled him back.
“ What do you want here ‘2”

“ I was told to relieve you from your guard over the cap-
tive, and you may go to your lodge."

It was a venturesome game, but it might have succeeded, if
the Blackfoot had not received positive orders to watch during
the night, and if he had not been ashrewd and suspicious per-
son. He looked wonderingly at the young man, and, as he
did so, the light from a neighboring fire fell on Frank’s face,
and a sudden idea seized the Indian. He quickly wet his
finger with his tongue, and as quickly rubbed it on the .white
man’s cheek, removing a portion of the paint, and showing
the fair skin underneath. Then, with a yell, he threw him-
self upon his detected enemy, and grasped him around the
waist.

The action was so sudden. and the Indian was so powerful.
that-Steele was almost borne to the ground at first But be
instantly recovered himself, and got hold of his knitb, which
the plunged into the throat of his antagonist,.who relaxed his
grasp and fell. .
- The young man had no time to lose, as the alarm had been
given, and the Indians was hastening to the spot {mm-all
2mm of the camp. After one him-ted glued-hr 

 

Lam”!!!

away toward the bluff, followed by the yelling Blackfeet. He
was an excellent runner and easily kept the lead of his pur-
sncrs, as he toiled up the ascent; but he would soon have been
tired out. had he not met succor in the shape of Bill Bush,
who stood at the edge of the slope, with his rifle pointed right
at him. ,

“ Shoot the next man, Bill 1” shouted Steele, and the sharp
crack of the rifle told that the work was done. The Dela-
ware brought down another, and Carver a third, and the In.
dians were staggered for a few moments by this unexpected
resistance. While they were thus in confusion, the friends
gained the place at which they had left their horses, and the
whites mounted and rode rapidly away, distracting attention
from the Delaware, who ran OH in another direction.

As none of the Blackfeet were mounted, Steele and his
friends were soon out of sight of their pursuers, who gave up
the chase.

In the morning they cautiously returned, and were rejoined
by the Delaware, when they proceeded to discuss pians for
their future operations. None of them had any thought of
abandoning the undertaking, but, the greater the difficulty, the
more eager they were to carry it out. Frank Steele,.in parti-
cular, since he had teen Ellen Carver, was so excited and im-
patient, that Bufi'n could hardly restrain him from making some
desperate atte’nnt. It was agreed that nothing could be done '
in the daytime, and they were unable to form any definite plans
for the night. They determined to go, afier nightfall, and sta-
tion tnemselves as near the encampment as possible, and 'then-
9‘6 fizture must take care of itself.

They sallied out from their hiding-place at dusk, and posted
meselves at the edge of the bluti‘, from which they looked
down on the camp. It was not long before they noticed an
unusual commotion among the Indians, and heard sounds of
Joy and exultation. ‘ , .

“The war-party has returned. and has gained a victory,'
.fitld Frank. “ The whole camp will be awake and excited.
and we will be able to do nothing tO-night.". ,

There was nothing for it but to wait, and they waited nnti. " V
late in‘thevnighnwhen the sounds of exultation were chm  l -

x

u-

 

Ii . ‘ murmur

Whipped Injuns l” exclaimed Bush, as holed his com-
panions down the slope, attaining a position quite near the en-
campment, where they concealed themselves.

They soon saw the greater part of the Blackfeet running to
the right, where they hastily threw up a sort of breastwork,
and before long the crack of rifles, the reports of fusees, and
the mingled yells of the opposing parties, told them that “a
sharp fight was going on. V

“That’s our folk, fur sart’in,” said Bush. “This hoes is
stenmin' to be into that thar’ fight, but he don’t see the chance
to mix, ‘ jist yet.”

He restrained the impatience of Steele and Carver, and they

_ waited until they hca'rd the report of rifles at their led, and
observed a new commotion on the plain, when they knew that
the camp had been attacked in the rear.

“ Now’s our time, boys l" exclaimed the trapper, as he sprung
up, followed by his companions.

They rushed forward, discharged their rifles at the nearest
Blackfeet, quickly reloaded, and hastened toward the lodge in
which Ellen Carver was confined, Frank Steele leading the
way. As they approached it, they saw a. number of Indians
rJnning toward it, and saw Eben GoOkin, who stood in from
of the lodge, strike down one of them with his harpoon.

CHAPTER XV
g THE HOME STRETCH—STEELE amp.

Em 6.30m had some cause for wearing a self-satisfiéd
look. when he met. Frank Steele disguised as an Indian, for he
had been trying pleasing experiments upon old Asanoo-tah.
After the war-party had left, his tormentor, the crusty old
“savage, came to him, and told him that it Was time to perform
' his contract with regard to As-moo-tah. Eben tried to excuse
himself on- the ground that his attendance on th! Fat ‘Bear'
“was necessary; but the plea was not allowed—if his medicine '-
, was so powerful, heoeuld at the same time manufacture m/ ° 9

1 I /

 

I a A ‘ K
ma mums-HOW. ” p ' ‘98

be the old squaw and take care of the chief. He then said
that he never performed such an operation unless requested to
do so by the party concerned. That objection was soon set-
tled, for As—moo-tah was brought forward, and made known
her desires in person. As the Yankee looked at the wrinkled
face and malicious eyes of the hag, he became,'ns he, wcul
have expressed it, “ kinder riled.” and resolved to put in pine
tice a plan that he had previously formed. 7

0n the bank of the river. a short distance from the village
was a sweating-house. This was a peculiar Indian institution,
being a small, tightly-closed building, in which’ the person to
be sweated was shut up, and was steamed by water being
slowly poured over hot stones. To this establishment, having
arranged it to suit himself. he conducted As-moo-tah, accom-
panied by the old warrior with the hard name.

He caused a goodly number of stones to be heated very hot,
and placed within the sweating-house. He then seated the
old woman within, on a very narrow bench, and gave to her
to hold in her left hand, a string, which passed over a sort of
pulley in the roof, and from the other end of which depended
a loosely-tied bag, filled with small stones. In her right hand »
he 'put a fragment of looking-glass, which she had procuret‘v
in the village, and told her that, while she held the string and
looked in the glass, she would perceive herself growing grad- /
nally handsome, and if she persevered until the stones-wen
cooled, she would come out perfectly beautiful. He shut. her
no in the building, fastened the door, told her that she must
(‘0 exactly as he had ordered, or the charm would be broken.
and directed a couple of Indian boys to pour water slowly
upon the stones, through tubes that he had “fixed.” ' He then
went away with the old Indian. ‘ "5'

The sequel may be imagined. The old hag had a nature  _»
desire for beauty, and more than half believed in the extmva- ‘
811m pretensions of Eben. As the steam began to rise around
her, and to till the small inclosurc, she gazed intently on the

' ~ 81835, and was sure that the wrinkles on her face were fading

away, the steam tending to produce that etl‘ect. When the

' Klaus was so dimmed that it reflected nothing, her imagination

v I NPde the mirror, and she saw herself becoming transfix-
. a  But the steam was even more powerful than has,

 

"Oil _ mum

imagination; her limbs gradually relaxed; she felt an oppressive
sense of faintness, and then thought that she Would give up
all hope of beauty, if she could but escape from that place.
But she was powerless to move; and when she tried to ask
the boys on the outside to cease pouring water on the stones
and to, let her out, she could hardly raise her voice above a
whisper. Still, she held the firing and the glass, with a per-
severance worthy of any cause, until she cOuld sit up no
longer; the string slipped from her fingers, the bag of pebbles
dropped, the glass fell in fragments on the stones, and As-moo-
tah rolled ofl" her seat, quite insensible.

When about two hours had expired, Eben announced to the
old warrior that it was then time to go and see her, and they
,set out together. On the way, he assured the old fellow with
the hard name that he should soon see, if As-moo-tah had
obeyed his orders, the most beautiful squaw his eyes had ever
beheld.

When they reached the sweating~house, the Indian boys
were still there, but they had ceased to pour water through
the tubes, as the stones were cold, and no more steam issued
from the crevices of the building. Eben consulted his harpoon,
muttering the usual gibberish, and then gravely informed the
old warrior that the charm was brokeu, for As—moo-tah had
not done as he ‘had told her to do. In proof of this assertion.
r he opened the door, and there lay the scattered stones in one
place, and the broken glass in another, and the old woman,
who was just beginning to recover, was sitting up on the
stones. They took her out and dipped her in the river—tor
she was as lax as a wet rag—until she recovered a portion of
her strength.

, The old warrior was disposed to-accuse Eben o’f swindling,
o.‘ having so arranged the matter that it would be impossible
for the woman to hold the string and the glass; but the, Yam
, kee, quite unexpectedly to himself, was sustained by As-moo-
tab, who had not forgotten the efl‘ects produced by her excited
lmegination, and was sure that she had seen her face changing,
and growing beautiful, until the glass fell.

Thus it was that the Yankee’s countenance bore an expre"

ion of partial satisfaction, when he met Frank Steele at 
Although Steele had told him not to follow,-he watched as.

   

 

 

 

 

  
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
   
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
   

i

u. 

I conveniented'rstance, and saw his deadly encounter- with- the
sentry at Ellen‘s lodge, and his subsequent flight and pursuit.
When the Indians returned from chasing him, bringing no  .
oner, and reported that two of their number had been killed
and one badly wounded, Eben went to his lodge and laid down
to sleep, with a more satisfactory feeling than he had late)!
experienced. -
The next day, however, his uneasiness returned, and ova;
increased. Nipmuck-we was slowly but surely sinking, and,
” it was apparent that his life could not be prolonged much“ '
y g r longer; in fact he might drop off at any moment. Eben did
» , all he could to keep him up, but the candle of life was flicker-
ing in the socket. Again, As-moo-tah had become loud in
his praise, and everywhere proclaimed the almost successful
result ofthe beauty-making experiment. This was satisfac-
tory, but there was too much reason to fear that he might be
besieged by a crowd of old women, who, deeming themselves
1 _' = suflicxently strong to undergo the ordeal, would clamor to be
tnade beautiful. His position was, indeed, an awkward one
it seemed that whenever he achieved a success, it brought hilt
’ , into trouble, and he knew that the penalty of failure would
it / be certain death. I ‘
c I So Eben passed a long and troubled day, wishing that he
{g‘ could get an interview with his cousin, but finding no chance

an AWARD marrow

 

 

01' even seeing her, although he had been relieved from the
surveillance that had recently annoyed him. The wonderv
ful report of As—moo-tah had tended to raise him in the estie,
mation of the public, but he saw that the spiteful old warrior
still had his suspicious, and knew that he would let slip no
OPpOrtunity of making mischief. If; the evening, a shower
0f rain fell, and Eben thought of his prophecy in regard to the
' var—party. He wished that he had not complicated the mat.
ler by speaking about the rain, but he had felt sure, from his
knowledge of weather-signs, that there would he showars, and
he shrewdly guessed that, if an attack was made an Captain
Steele‘s party, the expedition would fail. Still, he could not ‘
“ help feeling uneasy, for in any event, there would be dead I
' chiefs for him to bring to life, or wounded men for him to  

    
   
   
    
    
   
   
   
    

«  wank, - in of the wmxmhem  —

  

n . s “In  1

cipated in the easy victory over the N62 Percés, returned with
shouts of triumph, bringing in a number of horses. They
gave glowing accounts of their great achievement, and said
that the rest of the warriors would soon arrive with a great
booty. There was great joy 3nd excitement in the camp, and
the crusty old fellow with the long name took advantage of
he opportunity to vent his spite upon Eben, and to turn the
‘oopular tide against him. He publicly proclaimed that the
pretended medicine~man lied, that rain had fallen, and yet the
war-party had been gloriously successful. If he had made the
false prophecy willfully, he was a traitor to the tribe; if not,
he was a base impostor; in any event, he was a liar, and de,
served to die. ,

The old fellow’s harangue produced such an impression
upon the men, that they would have immediately immolated,
the unfortunate Yankee, had it not been for the interference of
the women, headed by As-inooLtah, who had no idea of per-
mitting the secret of manufacturing beauty to go out of the
tribe. The female influence was felt among the Blackfeet, as
well as among civilized people, but the contest was a serious
one, and it was doubtful which side would win, when the re-
turn of the defeated and pursued warriors changed the scene;
Nothing more was said against Eben‘s powers of prophecy
and-he was allowed to go his way in peace.

He was glad to escape from this danger, but felt that he was
immediately threatened with another, as a dead, or wounded
man might, at any moment, be brought to him for treatment.

The Blackfeet, however, had no time to look after their
dead or wounded, or to think of their medicine-man. Eben
soon heard a continual firing and yelling, and was aware that
the battle between the whites and the red-men had coma:
menced. As it was uncertain which side would win, he do-
voted his attention to his patient, who was rapidly expiring.
As he bent over the couch, and watched the chief‘s feeble

)truggles for life, a warrior looked in, and "asked about Nip-
“. muck-we. '

“ He is gettin’ along purty well," answered Eben.

The Indian‘turned away, and the Fat Bear breathed .hk
‘ As Eben ‘wfim‘anoertatn what to der ban '

/

 

 

another quarter, and noticed a stampede inthe camp. He

picked up his harpoon, stepped outside, and saw that the

sentry had gone from Ellen’s lodge. He hastened thither,

and had hardly reached it, when he was confronted by half-a.-

rdozen Blackfeet. , ,

I ResOIVed to perish in the defense of his cousin, and to get

as much revenge as he could, the Yankee swung his harpc 'au’

, around his head, struck do“: his foremost assailant, and

. .clearad a'space before the lodge. But the Indians pressed ’ i .

" him, his foot slipped, he fell, and thought all was over, when

there was a sharp cracking of rifles, and Bill Bush, Frank'

Steele, Nathan Carver and the Delaware, rushed upon the
Blackfeet, who had been reinforced.

There was a fierce and bloody hand-to-hand encounter

David Carver attacked a tall savage /W110 was entering the

‘ lodge, and was, stabbed to the heart for his temerity. The

next instant, the savage was brained by the butt of Bush’s

rifle, and Steele sprung within. He saw a sight that made

him leap forward more quickly, for an Indian, with uplifted

knife, was bending over the prostrate form of Ellen Carver

Frank threw himself upon the savage, and struck him with his

knife, with all his force, in the back of the neck. The knifo

was shivered, but the spinal column of the Blackfoot was

broken, and his arm, as well as the rest of his frame, was

paralyzed. Frank stepped out to assist his companions, but

:1? had finished their work, and he‘returned to the, care of
en.

0 H A P T E R X VI.
CONCLUSION.

Tn battle was over. Captain Steele and his men, chars.
ing furiously on the breastwork, carried it with a rush
Frank Steele, as has been said, devoted himself to the care
‘ 9f Ellen Carver, for the strong New England girl had fainted -.
’  t, 73:8 any girl might have done, if attacked by a painted snags 
"  a bloody- knife. He soon mcceeded in restoring  7-," I

l

 

.33!) mm

Moulded anir‘n'ation, and felt himself the happiest fellow in
the world, when she opened her eyes upon him with an ex.
pression of tenderness, as well as gratitude.

- Eben Gookin, as soon as he could regain his feet, took as
active pant in the combat around the lodge, doing good as:
vice with his long harpoon.

His attention was attracted to a group on the plain, collectet‘
around the body of a fallen Indian. Eben walked up to than,
and perceived that the' man on the ground was Red Plume
Laria- waslkueeling by his side, bitterly lamenting in- her own
language. _

. “ Darned if that ain’t the chap who killed my patient i” said
- Eben; “and that’s the gal who was with him. What is she

sayin’ 9"

I “ She says,” answered one of the trappers, “ that she beggel
him not for to go into that fight, ’cause he had seen the ghost
of an Injun he had killed, and that‘s a sure sign of death.’

“ When did he see the ghost?”

“ A few nights ago, somewhar’ ’bout here.”

“Jist you tell her, mister, that it’s no such thing, for the old
rascal was alive then. He is dead enough now, but it was

' hardly half an hour ago that he pegged out.”

The Yankee knelt down, and looked at the prostrate
renegade.

“ Sart'inly, I'will,” he said, in reply to a request from Lat-la
"to restore her lover to life. “ Bring me some water.”

Water was brought, and liberally used. The effect was,
that Red Plume, who had been merely stunned by it spent ball,
slowly revived, and sat up. _ ,

Eben told her, if she wished to be sure that N ip-muck-we
was dead, he would show her his corpse, but she shuddered at
the proposition, and he went alone, to take a last look at its
departed chief.

“Darn you, for a big old bundle of grease!” he exclaimed, r
as he shook his bent harpoon at the inanimate form of the Fat
Boar. “ You’ve cost me a nation sight of anxiety; but I
won’t abuse you now, as you happened to hold onto your life
as long as it was of any use to Eben Gookia.”

, ‘Gaptain Steele and his party remained at the scene of the

._ battle, resting themelves. and attending to various Mal. until '

 

 

_, ‘ ’ m um " a
late in the morning, when they took up their line 0: march for
their own camp, bearing the body of David Carver,” the
kind and gentiemanly captain did not overlook the natural

‘ desire of his parents to view his remains.

Nathan Carver and his wife were, of Vcourse, overjoyed at

, the safe return of Ellen, but their joy was overbalanced by

, “mi? grief at the death of their only son.
 ‘ in was arranged that they should go with one of Cap-
~ tain Steele's parties, that was to start for Missouri early in the
E'le They were content to remain, in the mean time, at his
? f » ' I camp, whichwas the general rendezvous, through the season,
for his trading and trapping expeditions.
Frank Steele did not omit to improve the opportunity for

 ' ' fOl‘ming a more intimate acquaintance with Nelly Carver, and
 ' the attachment that had been begun in scenes of excrtement
~'“ aMl peril soon ripened into the warmest love. It was not

long before the young man proposed to her parents that they
” t, ‘ should, instead of making a long and useless journey to Massa-
chusetts, give him Nelly for his wife, and remain with him in
Missouri. After due, and doubtless prayerful consideration.
they consented to both requests, and Captain Steele had not
4 the least idea of opposing an arrangement that pleased Frank
;» so well. A

'  I Eben Gookin had viewed the intimacy between Frank and
Ellen with! great displeasure, but, he knew of no way to stop
' C, it. She might as well have stayed at home in Massachusetts,
F he thought, for she was bound to find good-looking lovers
wherever she went. She was always kind and cousinly to
him, but it was plain that her smiles, and all those numberless
little favors that a damsel so well knows how to bestow where

y a chooses, were reserved for his dark-eyed rival.
At last he concluded to learn his fate, as the novelists say,
'6 opened his mind to his cousin as soon as he found her

. , Liane.

t j, ; “ Say, now, cousin Nelly," he began, “ as you and the old
~ , folks are talkin’ about goin’ back to Massachusetts, I thought
f 1’5 Speak to you about somethin’ that interests you and me.
You know that I’ve been kinder settin’ up to you for a good
whilemud you can’t have any doubt that I love you, and afiet
“.1 I’ve been through here in the wilderness, and all I’ve done

I r

    
  
 

, 1‘.",.-;’y,‘>,
"* ‘ w ‘-  11.,1‘ ;f. ,s»,~  1 — ’, “

    

nu) ram

1“

and ti led to do for you, don't you think you can make up you! 

,e

mind to marry me ?”

“ You have asked me too late, cousin Eben,” said Ellen.
with a very serious countenance, “ for I am engaged to Frank»
Steele." .

“ Sho! Is that so,'now? So quick. too? That ain’t the
way the business is done up in Masartchusetts. But, as it’s
done, it can‘t be helped.
arter all I’ve been through, that perhaps—”

“ You must not suppose,” interrupted Ellen, “ th
not appreciate your love, your kindness, your goodness, your
courage, and all you have done and attempted for me. I do
appreciate them, and shall always thank and bless you for
them; but, Frank Steele is the man I love."

“ Wa-al, if there wasn’t any handsome fellers in this world,
perhaps I might have a chance. Let it drop, cousin Nelly.”

As soon as the Fall set in, Frank Steele started for the
east with a train, accompanied by Ellen and her parents,
Nathan Carver being then quite able to travel. It was not
long after his arrival at his home, before he was married to
the fair girl whom he had met in the wilderness. He estab-
Tished himself as a fur-trader in Missouri, leaving his case;
hardened father to attend to trading and trapping, and fight-
ing in the far West.

Red Plume was chosen as a chief by the Nez Percés, and
Eben Gookin, having determined to remain in that region,
concluded to share the fortunes of the dashing young Wm

i

 
    

I thought, bein' cousins so, and ,3

at [110 ;

,........‘.‘..‘4L‘M\-'vw— y.-. .. ,. . . .,, V. , .u, 

           
         

. A

 

. Straii. V12 ,3: Of .

 

 

 

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