The Prairie Chief

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER ELEVEN.

  THE SNAKES MAKE A DART AND SECURE THEIR VICTIMS.

  While the things described in the last chapter were going on in theIndian camp, Rushing River was prowling around it, alternately engagedin observation and meditation, for he was involved in complicateddifficulties.

  He had come to that region with a large band of followers for theexpress purpose of scalping his great enemy Bounding Bull and all hiskindred, including any visitors who might chance to be with him at thetime. After attacking Tim's Folly, and being driven therefrom by itsowner's ingenious fireworks, as already related, the chief had sent awayhis followers to a distance to hunt, having run short of fresh meat. Heretained with himself a dozen of his best warriors, men who could glidewith noiseless facility like snakes, or fight with the noisy ferocity offiends. With these he meant to reconnoitre his enemy's camp, and makearrangements for the final assault when his braves should return withmeat--for savages, not less than other men, are dependent very much onfull stomachs for fighting capacity.

  But now a change had come over the spirit of his dream. He had suddenlyfallen in love, and that, too, with one of his enemy's women. His lovedid not, however, extend to the rest of her kindred. Firm as was hisresolve to carry off the girl, not less firm was his determination toscalp her family root and branch.

  As we have said, he hesitated to attack the camp for fear that mischiefmight befall the girl on whom he had set his heart. Besides, he wouldrequire all his men to enable him to make the attack successfully, andthese would not, he knew, return to him until the following day. Thearrival of Whitewing and Little Tim with their party still furtherperplexed him.

  He knew by the council that was immediately called, and the preparationsthat followed, that news of some importance had been brought by theprairie chief, and that action of some sort was immediately to follow;but of course what it all portended he could not divine, and in hisuncertainty he feared that Moonlight--whose name of course he did not atthat time know--might be spirited away, and he should never see heragain. Really, for a Red Indian, he became quite sentimental on thepoint and half resolved to collect his dozen warriors, make aneck-or-nothing rush at Bounding Bull, and carry off his scalp and thegirl at the same fell swoop.

  Cooler reflection, however, told him that the feat was beyond even _his_powers, for he knew well the courage and strength of his foe, and wasbesides well acquainted with the person and reputation of the prairiechief and Little Tim, both of whom had foiled his plans on formeroccasions.

  Greatly perplexed, therefore, and undetermined as to his course ofprocedure, Rushing River bade his followers remain in their retreat in adark part of a tangled thicket, while he should advance with one manstill further in the direction of the camp to reconnoitre.

  Having reached an elevated spot as near to the enemy as he dared venturewithout running the risk of being seen by the sentinels, he flunghimself down, and crawled towards a tree, whence he could partiallyobserve what went on below. His companion, a youth named Eaglenose,silently followed his example. This youth was a fine-looking youngsavage, out on his first war-path, and burning to distinguish himself.Active as a kitten and modest as a girl, he was also quick-witted, andknew when to follow the example of his chief and when to remaininactive--the latter piece of knowledge a comparatively rare gift to theambitious!

  After a prolonged gaze, with the result of nothing gained, Rushing Riverwas about to retire from the spot as wise as he went, when his companionuttered the slightest possible hiss. He had heard a sound. Nextinstant the chief heard it, and smiled grimly. We may remark here inpassing that the Blackfoot chief was eccentric in many ways. He pridedhimself on his contempt for the red man's love for paint and feathers,and invariably went on the war-path unpainted and unadorned. Incivilised life he would certainly have been a Radical. How far hisobjection to paint was influenced by the possession of a manly, handsomecountenance, of course we cannot tell.

  To clear up the mystery of the sound which had thrilled on the sharp earof Eaglenose, we will return to the Indian camp, where, after thecouncil, a sumptuous feast of venison steaks and marrow-bones was spreadin Bounding Bull's wigwam.

  Moonlight not being one of the party, and having already supped, said toher mother that she was going to find Skipping Rabbit and have a runwith her. You see, Moonlight, although full seventeen years of age, wasstill so much of a child as to delight in a scamper with her littlefriend, the youngest child of Bounding Bull.

  "Be careful, my child," said Brighteyes. "Keep within the sentinels;you know that the great Blackfoot is on the war-path."

  "Mother," said Moonlight, with the spirit of her little father stirringin her breast, "I don't fear Rushing River more than I do the sighing ofthe wind among the pine-tops. Is not my father here, and Whitewing?And does not Bounding Bull guard our wigwams?"

  Brighteyes said no more. She was pleased with the thorough confidenceher daughter had in her natural protectors, and quietly went on with themoccasin which she was embroidering with the dyed quills of theporcupine for Little Tim.

  We have said that Moonlight was rather self-willed. She would notindeed absolutely disobey the express commands of her father or mother,but when she had made no promise, she was apt to take her own way, notperceiving that to neglect or to run counter to a parent's known wishesis disobedience.

  As the night was fine and the moon bright, our self-willed heroine, withher skipping playmate, rambled about the camp until they got so far inthe outskirts as to come upon one of the sentinels. The dark-skinnedwarrior gravely told her to go back. Had she been any other Indiangirl, she would have meekly obeyed at once; but being Little Tim'sdaughter, she was prone to assert the independence of her white blood,and, to say truth, the young braves stood somewhat in awe of her.

  "The Blackfoot does not make war against women," said Moonlight, with atouch of lofty scorn in her tone. "Is the young warrior afraid thatRushing River will kill and eat us?"

  "The young warrior fears nothing," answered the sentinel, with a darkfrown; "but his chief's orders are that no one is to leave or enter thecamp, so Moonlight must go home."

  "Moonlight will do as she pleases," returned the girl loftily. At thesame time, knowing that the man would certainly do his duty, and preventher from passing the lines, she turned sharply round, and walked away asif about to return to the camp. On getting out of the sentinel's sight,however, she stopped.

  "Now, Skipping Rabbit," she said, "you and I will teach that fellowsomething of the art of war. Will you follow me?"

  "Will the little buffalo follow its mother?" returned the child.

  "Come, then," said Moonlight, with a slight laugh; "we will go beyondthe lines. Do as I do. You are well able to copy the snake."

  The girl spoke truly. Both she and Skipping Rabbit had amusedthemselves so often in imitating the actions of the Indian braves thatthey could equal if not beat them, at least in those accomplishmentswhich required activity and litheness of motion. Throwing herself onher hands and knees, Moonlight crept forward until she came again insight of the sentinel. Skipping Rabbit followed her trail like a littleshadow. Keeping as far from the man as possible without coming underthe observation of the next sentinel, they sank into the long grass, andslowly wormed their way forward so noiselessly that they were soon pastthe lines, and able to rise and look about with caution.

  The girl had no thought of doing more than getting well out of the camp,and then turning about and walking boldly past the young sentinel, justto show that she had defeated him, but at Skipping Rabbit's suggestionshe led the way to a neighbouring knoll just to have one look roundbefore going home.

  It was on this very knoll that Rushing River and Eaglenose lay, likesnakes in the grass.

  As the girls drew near, chatting in low, soft, musical tones, the twomen lay as motionless as fallen trees. When they were within severalyards of them the young Indian glanced at his chief, and pointed withhis conveniently prominent fea
ture to Skipping Rabbit. A slight nod wasthe reply.

  On came the unconscious pair, until they almost trod on the prostratemen. Then, before they could imagine what had occurred, each foundherself on the ground with a strong hand over her mouth.

  It was done so suddenly and effectually that there was no time to uttereven the shortest cry.

  Without removing their hands for an instant from their mouths, theIndians gathered the girls in their left arms as if they had been acouple of sacks or bundles, and carried them swiftly into the forest,the chief leading, and Eaglenose stepping carefully in his footsteps.It was not a romantic or lover-like way of carrying off a bride, but RedIndian notions of chivalry may be supposed to differ from those of thepale-faces.

  After traversing the woods for several miles they came to the spot whereRushing River had left his men. They were unusually excited by theunexpected capture, and, from their animated gestures and glances duringthe council of war which was immediately held, it was evident to poorMoonlight that her fate would soon be decided.

  She and Skipping Rabbit sat cowering together at the foot of the treewhere they had been set down. For one moment Moonlight thought of herown lithe and active frame, her powers of running and endurance, andmeditated a sudden dash into the woods, but one glance at the agileyoung brave who had been set to watch her would have induced her toabandon the idea even if the thought of leaving Skipping Rabbit behindhad not weighed with her.

  In a few minutes Rushing River left his men and approached the tree atthe foot of which the captives were seated.

  The moon shone full upon his tall figure, and revealed distinctly everyfeature of his grave, handsome countenance as he approached.

  The white spirit of her father stirred within the maiden. Discardingher fears, she rose to meet him with a proud glance, such as was notoften seen among Indian girls. Instead of being addressed, however, inthe stern voice of command with which a red warrior is apt to speak toan obstreperous squaw, he spoke in a low, soft respectful tone, whichseemed to harmonise well with the gravity of his countenance, andthrilled to the heart of Moonlight. She was what is familiarlyexpressed in the words "done for." Once more we have to record a caseof love at first sight.

  True, the inexperienced girl was not aware of her condition. Indeed, iftaxed with it, she would probably have scorned to admit the possibilityof her entertaining even mild affection--much less love--for any man ofthe Blackfoot race. Still, she had an uneasy suspicion that somethingwas wrong, and allowed an undercurrent of feeling to run within her,which, if reduced to language, would have perhaps assumed the form,"Well, but he _is_ so gentle, so respectful, so very unlike all thebraves I have ever seen; but I hate him, for all that! Is he not theenemy of my tribe?"

  Moonlight would not have been a daughter of Little Tim had she given inat once. Indeed, if she had known that the man who spoke to her sopleasantly was the renowned Rushing River--the bitter foe of her fatherand of Bounding Bull--it is almost certain that the indignant tone andmanner which she now assumed would have become genuine. But she did notknow this; she only knew from his dress and appearance that the manbefore her was a Blackfoot, and the knowledge raised the whole Blackfootrace very much in her estimation.

  "Is the fair-faced maiden," said Rushing River, referring to the girl'scomparatively light complexion, "willing to share the wigwam of aBlackfoot chief?"

  Moonlight received this very decided and unusually civil proposal ofmarriage with becoming hauteur, for she was still ruffled by theundignified manner in which she had been carried off.

  "Does the fawn mate with the wolf?" she demanded. "Does the chiefsuppose that the daughter of Little Tim can willingly enter the lodge ofa Blackfoot?"

  A gleam of surprise and satisfaction for a moment lighted up the gravecountenance of the chief.

  "I knew not," he replied, "that the maiden who has fallen into my handsis a child of the brave little pale-face whose deeds of courage areknown all over the mountains and prairies."

  This complimentary reference to her father went far to soften themaiden's heart, but her sense of outraged dignity required that sheshould be loyal to herself as well as to her tribe, therefore shesniffed haughtily, but did not reply.

  "Who is the little one?" asked the chief, pointing to Skipping Rabbit,who, in a state of considerable alarm, had taken refuge behind herfriend, and only peeped at her captor.

  Moonlight paused for a few seconds before answering, uncertain whetherit would be wiser to say who she was, or merely to describe her as achild of the tribe. Deciding on the former course, in the hope ofimpressing the Blackfoot with a sense of his danger, she said--

  "Skipping Rabbit is the daughter of Bounding Bull." Then, observinganother gleam of surprise and triumph on the chief's face, she addedquickly, "and the Blackfoot knows that Bounding Bull and his tribe arevery strong, very courageous, and very revengeful. If Moonlight andSkipping Rabbit are not sent home at once, there will be war on themountains and the plains, for Whitewing, the great chief of theprairies, is just now in the camp of Bounding Bull with his men. LittleTim, as you know, is terrible when his wrath is roused. If war iscarried into the hunting-grounds of the Blackfeet, many scalps will bedrying in our lodges before the snows of winter begin to descend. Ifevil befalls Skipping Rabbit or Moonlight, before another moon is passedRushing River himself, the chicken-hearted chief of the Blackfeet, willbe in the dust with his fathers, and his scalp will fringe the leggingsof Little Tim."

  We have given but a feeble translation of this speech, which in theIndian tongue was much more powerful; but we cannot give an adequateidea of the tone and graceful gesticulation of the girl as, withflashing orbs and heightened colour, she delivered it. Yet it seemed tohave no effect whatever on the man to whom it was spoken. Withoutreplying to it, he gently, almost courteously, took the maiden's hand,and led her to a spot where his men were stationed.

  They were all on horseback, ready for an immediate start. Two horseswithout riders stood in the midst of the group. Leading Moonlight toone of these, Rushing River lifted her by the waist as if she had been afeather, and placed her thereon. Skipping Rabbit he placed in front ofEaglenose. Then, vaulting on to his own steed, he galloped away throughthe forest, followed closely by the whole band.

  Now it so happened that about the same hour another band of horsemenstarted from the camp of Bounding Bull.

  Under the persuasive eloquence of Little Tim, the chief had made up hismind to set out for the fortress without waiting for daylight.

  "You see," Tim had said, "we can't tell whether the preacher is goin' tolive or die, an' it would be a pity to risk lettin' him miss seein' theold woman and my wife if he _is_ goin' to die; an' if he isn't goin'under this time, why, there's no harm in hurryin' a bit--wi' the moon,too, shinin' like the bottom of a new tin kettle in the sky."

  The chief had no objections to make. There were plenty of men to guardthe camp, even when a few were withdrawn for the trip. As Whitewing wasalso willing, the order to mount and ride was given at once.

  The absence of Moonlight and Skipping Rabbit had not at the time beensufficiently prolonged to attract notice. If they had been thought ofat all, it is probable they were supposed to be in one or other of thewigwams. As the moon could not be counted on beyond a certain time,haste was necessary, and thus it came to pass that the party set forthwithout any knowledge of the disappearance of the girls.

  The "dear old one" was fain to journey like the rest on horseback, butshe was so well accustomed to that mode of locomotion that she sufferedmuch less than might have been expected. Besides, her son had takencare to secure for her the quietest, meekest, and most easy-going horsebelonging to the tribe--a creature whose natural spirit had been reducedby hardship and age to absolute quiescence, and whose gait had beentrained down to something like a hobby-horse amble.

  Seated astride of this animal, in gentleman fashion, the mother ofWhitewing swayed gently to and fro like a partially revived mummy of anamiab
le type, with her devoted son on one side and Little Tim on theother, to guard against accidents.

  It chanced that the two parties of horsemen journeyed in nearly oppositedirections, so that every hour of the night separated them from eachother more and more.

  It was not until Whitewing's party had proceeded far on their way toTim's Folly that suspicion began to be aroused and inquiry to be made inthe camp. Then, as the two girls were nowhere to be found, the alarmspread; the warriors sallied out, and the trail of the Blackfeet wasdiscovered. It was not, however, until daylight came to their aid thatthe Indians became fully aware of their loss, and sent out a strong bandin pursuit of their enemies, while a messenger was despatched in hothaste to inform Little Tim and Bounding Bull that Moonlight and SkippingRabbit had been spirited away.