CHAPTER XXV.
BEFORE THE ATTACK.
After leaving the tent, the two Chiefs walked for some moments side byside, and did not exchange a word; both seemed plunged in deep thought,doubtlessly caused by the serious events that were preparing--eventswhose success would decide the fate of the Indian tribes of thispart of the continent. While walking along, they reached a point onthe hillock, whence a most extensive view could be enjoyed in everydirection.
The night was calm and balmy, there was not a breath in the air, nota cloud on the sky, whose deep azure was enamelled with a profusionof twinkling stars; an imposing silence reigned over this desert,where, however, several thousand men were ambushed, only waiting aword or a signal to out each other's throats. Mechanically the two menstopped, and gazed at the grand landscape extended at their feet, inthe immediate foreground of which frowned Fort Mackenzie, throwing itsgloomy shadow far across the prairie.
"By sunrise," Natah Otann muttered, answering his own thoughts, ratherthan addressing his companion, "that haughty fortress will be mine.The Redskins will command at the spot where their oppressors are stillreigning."
"Yes," White Buffalo repeated, mechanically, "tomorrow you will bemaster of the fort, but will you manage to keep it? Conquering isnothing; the white men have been several times defeated by theRedskins, and yet they have enslaved, decimated, and dispersed themlike the leaves the autumn breeze bears away."
"That is only too true," the Chief said, with a sigh; "it has ever beenso, since the first day the white men set foot in this unhappy land.What is the mysterious influence that has constantly predicted themagainst us?"
"Yourselves, my child," White Buffalo said, mournfully shaking hishead; "you are your own greatest enemies. You can only impute toyourselves your continued defeats, for you are so obstinate forinternecine warfare; the whites have taken care to foster strongly yourheadstrong passions, by which they have skilfully profited to conqueryou in detail."
"Yes, you have told me that often, my father, so you see I haveprofited by your advice; all the Missouri Indians are now united, theyobey the same chief, and march under one totem; thus, believe me, thisunion will be fertile in good results, we shall drive these plunderingwolves from our frontiers, we shall send them back to the villages ofstone; and henceforth only the moccasin of the Redskins will tread ournative prairies, and the echoes will only be aroused by the joyouslaughter of the Redskins, or repeat the war cry of the Blackfeet."
"No one will be happier than I at such a result; my most ardentdesire is to see men free, from whom I have received such paternalhospitality; but, alas, who can foresee the future? These Sachems,whom you have succeeded in combining by attention and patience, areagitating darkly; they fear to obey you; they are jealous of the powerthemselves gave you, so there is a chance they will abandon you."
"I will not; give them the time, my father; for the last few daysI have known all their designs, and followed their plans; up tothe present, prudence has closed my mouth. I did not wish to riskthe success of my enterprise; but so soon as I am master of thisfortress below us, believe me, I shall speak loudly, for my voicewill have exercised an authority, my power a strength, which the mostturbulent will be compelled to recognize. Victory will render megreat and terrible: will trample under foot those who now conspirein the darkness, and who would not hesitate to turn against me, if Iexperienced a defeat. Go, my father, let all be ready for the attack sosoon as I give the signal, visit the outposts, watch the movements ofthe enemy, for in two hours I shall utter my war cry."
White Buffalo regarded him for a moment with a singular expression, inwhich friendship, fear, and admiration struggled in turn; then layinghis hand on his shoulder he said, with much emotion,--
"Child, you are mad; but it is a sublime madness: the work ofreformation you meditate is impossible--but, whether you triumph orsuccumb, your attempt will not be useless. Your passage on earth willleave a long, luminous trace, which may one day serve as a beacon tothose who succeed in accomplishing the liberation of your race."
After a few seconds of silence, more eloquent than vain words, the twomen fell into each other's arms, and held each other in a firm embrace;they then separated, and Natah Otann remained alone.
The young Chief did not conceal from himself in any way thedifficulties of his position. He recognized the justice of his adoptedfather's observations; but now it was too late to recoil, he must pushonward at all risks. Now that the moment had arrived to descend intothe arena, all hesitation had ceased, all fear had died out in theyoung Chief's bosom, to give way to a cold and invincible resolution,that imparted to him the lucidity of mind required to play skilfullythe great part on which the fate of his race would depend.
When White Buffalo left him alone, Natah Otann sat down on a rock, and,resting his head on his hand, fixed his eyes on the place, and fellinto a serious contemplation. For a long time he had been dreaming,with a vague consciousness of external objects, when a hand was gentlylaid on his shoulder. The Chief quivered, as if he had received anelectric shock, and quickly raised his head.
"_Ochtl?_" he said, with an emotion he could not master."Prairie-Flower here at this hour?"
The young girl smiled sweetly.
"Why is my brother astonished?" she replied, in her gentle andmelodious voice; "does not the Chief know that Prairie-Flower loves towander about at night, when nature is slumbering, and the voice of theGreat Spirit can be more easily heard? We girls love to dream at night,by the melancholy light that comes from the stars, and seems to givereality to our thoughts, at times, in the mist."
The Chief sighed in reply.
"You are suffering?" Prairie-Flower asked him, gently; "You, the firstSachem of our nation, the most renowned warrior of our tribes--whatreason can be powerful enough to draw a sigh from you?"
The Chief seised the dainty hand the girl yielded to him, and pressedit gently between his own.
"Prairie-Flower," he said at length, "you are ignorant why I sufferwhen I am by your side?"
"How should I know it? Although my brothers call me the _Virgin ofSweet Love_, and suppose me to be in relation with the spirits of airand water, alas! I am only an ignorant young girl. I should like toknow the cause of your grief; perhaps I could succeed in curing you."
"No," the Chief answered, shaking his head, "it is not in your power,child; to do that the beating of your heart ought to respond to mine,and the little bird, which sings so melodiously in the hearts ofmaidens, and murmurs such gentle words in their ears, should have flownnear you."
The girl blushed and smiled; she let her eyes fall, and, making aneffort to disengage her hand, which Natah Otann still held in his,--
"The little bird, of which my brother speaks, I have seen: its song hasalready been chanted near me."
The Chief sprung up, and fixed a flashing glance on the maiden.
"What!" he exclaimed, with agitation, "you love? Has one of the youngwarriors of our tribe known how to touch your heart, and fill it withlove?"
Prairie-Flower shook her charming head petulantly, while a sweet smileparted her coral lips.
"I know not if what I experience is what you call love," she said.
Natah Otann had, by a painful effort, checked the emotion which madehis limbs tremble.
"Why should it not be so?" he continued, thoughtfully. "The lawsof nature are immutable, no one can prevent it; the child's hourwas destined to arrive. By what right can I quarrel with what hashappened? Have I not in my heart a sacred feeling, which fills it, andbefore which every other must be extinguished? A man in my position istoo far above vulgar passions; the object he proposes to himself is toogreat for him to allow himself to be ruled by love of a woman. The manwho lays claim to become the saviour and regenerator of a people, nolonger belongs to humanity. Let me be worthy of the task I have takenon myself, and forget, if possible, the mad and hopeless passion thatdevours me. That girl can never be mine; everything separates us. Iwill be to her what I ought never to hav
e ceased to be--a father."
He let his head hang despairingly on his chest, and remained for a fewmoments absorbed in gloomy meditation. Prairie-Flower regarded himwith an expression of tender pity; she had only imperfectly caught thewords the Chief muttered, and understood but little of them. Still shefelt a deep friendship for him; she suffered in seeing him, and soughtvainly some consolation to afford. She waited anxiously till he shouldremember her presence, and speak to her again. At length he raised hishead.
"My sister has not told me which of our young warriors she prefers toall the rest."
"Has not the Sachem guessed it?" she asked, timidly.
"Natah Otann is a chief. If he is the father of his warriors, he is nospy on their deeds or thoughts."
"The man of whom I speak to my brother is not a Kenha warrior," shecontinued.
"Ah!" he said in surprise, and looking scrutinizingly at her, "Can itbe one of the Palefaces who are Natah Otann's guests?"
"My brother would say his prisoners," she murmured.
"What mean these words, girl? Have you, born but yesterday, any rightto try and explain my actions? Ah!" he added, with a frown, "now Iunderstand how the Palefaced Chiefs had weapons when I visited them anhour ago. It is useless for my daughter to tell me now the name of himshe loves, for I know it."
The girl hung her head, with a blush.
"_Achtsett_--it is good," he continued, in a rough voice, "my sister isfree to place her affections where she pleases; but her love must notlead her to betray her friends for the Palefaces. She is a daughter ofthe Kenhas. Was it to give me this news that Prairie-Flower came to me?"
"No," she answered timidly; "another person ordered me to come here,where she will also come herself, as she has an important secret toreveal to me in the presence of the Sachem."
"An important secret?" Natah Otann repeated. "What do you mean? Of whatwoman is my sister speaking?"
"I am speaking of her who is called the She-wolf of the prairies; shehas ever been gentle, good, and affectionate to me, in spite of thehatred she bears to the Indians."
"That is strange," the Chief muttered. "So you are waiting for her?"
"I am."
"But that woman is mad," the Chief exclaimed. "Do you not know it, mypoor child?"
"Those whom the Great Spirit wishes to protect he deprives of reason,that they may not feel grief," she replied, softly.
For some minutes an almost imperceptible rustling had been going onin the bushes; this sound, though so slight, the Chiefs practisedear would have detected, had he not been entirely absorbed by hisconversation with the girl. All at once the branches were violentlytorn asunder; several men, led by the She-wolf of the prairies, rushedtoward the Chief, and, before he had recovered from the surprise causedby this sudden attack, he was thrown down, and securely pinioned.
"The mad woman!" he exclaimed.
"Yes, yes, the mad woman," she repeated, in a hoarse voice. "At lengthI hold my vengeance! Thanks," she added, addressing the three men whoaccompanied her; "I will now take his guard on myself, he shall notescape."
The men withdrew without replying. Although they wore the Indiandress, a panther skin drawn over their faces rendered them perfectlysecure from detection. Only three persons remained on the top of thehill--Prairie-Flower, Margaret, and Natah Otann, who tried to breakhis bonds, while uttering hoarse and inarticulate sounds. The She-wolfsurveyed her enemy, prostrated at her feet, with a joy impossible todescribe, while Prairie-Flower, standing motionless by the Chief, gazedon him sorrowfully and thoughtfully.
"Yes," the She-wolf said, with a glance of satiated vengeance, "howl,panther; bend the bonds you cannot break. I hold you at last; it is myturn to torture you, to repay you all the suffering you lavished onme. Oh! I can never be sufficiently avenged on you, the assassin of mywhole family. God is just: tooth for tooth, eye for eye, wretch!"
She picked up a dagger that had fallen on the ground near her, andbegan to prick him all over.
"Answer me--do you not feel the cold steel piercing your flesh?" sheasked him. "Oh! I should like to make you suffer death a thousandtimes, were it possible."
A smile of contempt played over the Chief's lips. The She-wolf,exasperated, raised the dagger to strike him; but Prairie-Flower heldher arm. Margaret turned like a tiger; but, recognizing the girl, shelet the weapon fall from her trembling hand, and her face assumed anexpression of infinite gentleness and tenderness.
"You here?" she exclaimed. "Then you did not forget the meeting Iarranged with you? It is Heaven that sends you!"
"Yes," the young girl replied, "the Great Spirit sees all. My motheris good; Prairie-Flower loves her. Why thus torture the man who actedas father to the abandoned child? The Chief has ever been kind toPrairie-Flower; my mother will pardon him."
Margaret gazed at the girl with an expression of mad stupor; then herfeatures were suddenly distorted, and she burst into a strident laugh.
"What!" she exclaimed, in a piercing voice, "you, Prairie-Flower,intercede for this man?"
"He was a father to Prairie-Flower," the girl answered, simply.
"But you do not know him then?"
"He has been kind to me."
"Silence, child! do not implore the She-wolf," the Chief said, in agloomy voice. "Natah Otann is a warrior; he knows how to die."
"No, the Chief must not die," the Indian girl said, resolutely.
Natah Otann laughed.
"It is I who am avenged," he said.
"Dog!" the She-wolf yelled, stamping her heel on his face, "silence! orI will tear out your viper's tongue."
The Indian smiled with contempt.
"My mother will follow me," the girl said: "I will unfasten the Chief,in order that he may rejoin his warriors, who are about to fight."
She picked up the dagger, and knelt down near the prisoner; but theShe-wolf checked her.
"Before cutting his bonds, listen to me, child," she said.
"Afterwards," the girl objected. "A Chief must be with his warriors inbattle."
"Listen to me for a few minutes," She-wolf continued, earnestly; "Iimplore it of you, Prairie-Flower, by all I may have done for you;then, when I have ceased speaking, if you still wish it, you shalldeliver that man. I swear to you that I will not prevent it."
The girl looked at her fixedly.
"Speak," she said, in her gentle and sympathizing voice."Prairie-Flower is listening."
A sigh of relief escaped from the She-wolf's oppressed chest. There wasa moment's silence: nothing could be heard, save the panting of theprisoner.
"You are right, girl," the She-wolf at length said, in a mournfulvoice, "that man took care of your infancy, was kind to you, andbrought you up tenderly; you see that I do him justice! But he nevertold you how you fell into his hands."
"Never," the maiden said, in a melancholy voice.
"Well," the She-wolf continued, "that secret, which he has not dared toreveal to you, I will tell you. On just such a night as this, at thehead of his ferocious warriors, the man you call your father attackedyour real father, and while your two brothers, by that monster'sorders, were burned alive, your father fastened to a tree, and therewas flayed alive."
"Horror!" the young girl shrieked, as she sprang up.
"And if you do not believe me," she continued, in a shrill voice, "tearfrom your neck that bag made of your unhappy father's skin, and youwill find in it all that remains of him."
With a feverish movement the young girl drew out the bag, which shesqueezed convulsively.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, "no! no! it is impossible; such atrocities couldnot be committed."
Suddenly her tears ceased, she looked fixedly at the She-wolf, andsaid, in a harsh voice--
"How do you know all this? The man who told it you lied."
"I was present," the She-wolf said, coldly,
"You were present? You witnessed this horrible scene?"
"Yes, I did."
"Why?" she asked, madly. "Answer, why?
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sp; "Why?" she said, with an accent of supreme majesty; "because I am yourmother, child."
At this unexpected revelation the girl's features were convulsed, hervoice failed her, her eyes seemed ready to start from their sockets,her body was agitated by a convulsive tremor; for an instant she triedto utter a shriek, but then suddenly broke into sobs, and fell intoMargaret's arms, exclaiming, with a piercing accent,--
"My mother! My mother!"
"At last," the She-wolf said, deliriously, "I have found you again, andyou are really mine."
For some moments mother and daughter, yielding to their tenderness,forgot the whole world. Natah Otann tried to profit by the opportunity,and seize the chance of safety which accident offered him. Henoiselessly began rolling over to gain the top of the enclosure; butthe young girl suddenly noticed him, and sprang up as if a serpent hadstung her.
"Stop, Natah Otann!" she said to him.
The chief remained motionless: he imagined, from the girl's accent,that he was lost, and he resigned himself to his fate with thatfatalism which forms the base of the Indian character.
Still he was mistaken.
Prairie-Flower, with burning eyes and pallid brow, turned a haggardglance from her mother on the man extended at her feet, asking herheart if she had a right, after all the kindness he had shown her, toavenge her father's death upon him. She felt that her arm was too weak,her heart too tender for such a deed. For several seconds the threeactors of this terrible scene remained plunged in a gloomy silence,which was only interrupted by the dull and mysterious noises of thenight.
Natah Otann did not fear death; but he trembled at leaving uncompletedthe glorious task he had taken on himself; he was ashamed at havingfallen into so clumsy a snare, set by a half insane woman. With hishead stretched out, and frowning brow, he anxiously read on the girl'sface the feelings in turn reflected on it as in a mirror, in order tocalculate the chances of saving a life so precious to those he wishedto render free. Though resigned to his fate, like all great men, hedid not despair, but struggled to the last moment. Prairie-Flowerat length raised her head; her lovely face had assumed a strangeexpression her brow glistened, her gentle blue eyes seemed to flashforth flames.
"Mother," she said, in her melodious voice, "give me those pistols youhave in your hand."
"What will you do with them?" the She-wolf asked.
"Avenge my father! Was it not for that you summoned me here?"
Without replying, the She-wolf gave her the weapons. The girl, atfirst, threatened Natah Otann, and then, with a gesture as rapid asthought, threw them down the hill.
"Unhappy girl," Margaret yelled, "what have you done?"
"I avenge my father," she answered, with an accent of supreme dignity.
"Unhappy child, he is the assassin of your father."
"I know it; you have told me so. This man, in spite of his crimes, hasbeen kind to me--he watched over my childhood. Although he obeyed thefeeling of hatred his race entertains for the Palefaces by murdering myfather, he took his place with me as far as was possible, and almostchanged his Indian nature to protect and support me. The Great Spiritwill judge us, He whose eye is eternally fixed on earth."
"Woe is me! Woe is me!" the She-wolf yelled, wringing her hands indespair.
The girl bent over the Chief, and cut the bonds that fettered him.Natah Otann sprang to his feet with the bound of a jaguar. The She-wolfmade a movement, as if to rush upon him, but she checked herself.
"All is not over yet," she shrieked, "yes! yes! I will have my revenge,no matter at what cost."
And she rushed into the thicket, where she disappeared.
"Natah Otann," the maiden continued, turning to the Chief, who stoodby her side, calmly and stoically, as if nothing extraordinary hadhappened; "I leave vengeance to the Great Spirit--a woman can onlyweep. Farewell! I loved you as that father you deprived me of. I do notfeel the strength to hate you, I will try to forget you."
"Poor child," the Sachem replied, with much emotion; "I must appearto you very culpable. Alas! it is only today that I understand theatrocity of the deed of which I allowed myself to be guilty: perhaps, Imay succeed one day in obtaining your pardon."
Prairie-Flower smiled sorrowfully.
"Your pardon does not depend from me," she said, "Wacondah alone canabsolve you."
And, after giving him a parting glance of sadness, she withdrew slowly,and thoughtfully entered the wood.
Natah Otann looked after her for a long while.
"Can the Christians be right?" he muttered, when done; "do angelsreally exist?"
He shook his head several times, and, after attentively looking at thesky, in which the stars were beginning to shine,--
"The hour has arrived," he said, hoarsely; "shall I be the victor?"
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