The Red Man's Revenge: A Tale of The Red River Flood

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER NINETEEN.

  THE RED MAN RECEIVES A VISITOR, COGITATES DEEPLY, AND ACTS WITHDECISION.

  We return now, to the red man, who, with his captive, spent the greaterpart of that winter on the slopes of the Rocky mountains, in a valleybetween two spurs of the range which merged gradually into the prairie.

  In this sequestered spot Petawanaquat could, by turning to the righthand, seek the rugged haunts of the grizzly near and the Rocky Mountaingoat; or, by turning to the left, ride after the buffalo on his ownundulating plains. Here the Indian instructed Tony in all the mysteriesof the hunter's craft, showed him how to set traps for wolves and foxes,and snares for rabbits, and taught him how to use the gun, and how tofollow the tracks of game in the snow. He also made him a little bow,with a sheaf of blunt-headed arrows, and a pair of snow-shoe frames, theinterstices of which were filled up by the red man's wife.

  Petawanaquat had only one wife, named Meekeye. He might have had half adozen wives if he had chosen, because he was a strong, able, andsuccessful hunter, which is equivalent to saying he was, for an Indian,a rich man, and among the Indians there is no legal limit, we believe,to the number of a man's wives. But _our_ red man seemed to think onequite enough. He was very good to her--which is more than can be said,alas! of many white men. He never failed to bring her the tit-bits ofall animals slain in the chase. He never beat her if she grew weary onthe march, as too many of his savage countrymen are wont to do, but, onthe contrary, relieved her of part of her burden, and, as a rule,carried the heaviest part of the family baggage on his own shoulders orsledge. Moreover, when on a visit with his furs to the stores of thefur-traders, he never failed to consult Meekeye as to every purchasethat he made, and invariably gladdened her heart with gifts of scarletcloth and white enamelled beads, and brilliant ribbons and littlecircular mirrors, which were deemed ample in size, though hardly bigenough to display to advantage the point of an average nose. In short,Petawanaquat was quite un-Indian and chivalrous in his attentions to hissquaw, who repaid him with faithful service, and, above all, with lovinglooks from the orbs which had originated her name.

  Some people may think the loving looks produced the chivalry; othersthat the chivalry caused the looks. Whichever way it was, the resultwas mutual felicity. The red man had no family, hence Meekeye took toTony with something of the fervour of a mother. Tony soon reciprocated.At first he indulged some of his mischievous tendencies, but, beingonly smiled at when he was naughty, found that the interest of being badwas gone, and ere long gave it up.

  In the presence of his new father he never dared to be other thanabsolute perfection. Petawanaquat's solemnity was too much for him.Thus it came to pass that Tony was soon thoroughly broken in. Meekeyetaught him to make leggings and to ornament moccasins, for the boy wasomnivorous in his thirst for knowledge. He swallowed everything withavidity, including immense quantities of food, so that his frame andmind developed together in a marvellous manner.

  Of course the red man did not take Tony with him on his longest huntingexpeditions, but he took him considerable distances from homenotwithstanding, and showed him the "far west" sport in all its phases,insomuch that Tony, who could scarcely sit a trotting horse in thesettlements, became Tonyquat the Fearless in the course of time--couldride bare-backed steeds with ease, and could send his little arrows intothe flank of a buffalo with as much coolness, if not as much force, ashis instructor.

  Tony even got the length of drawing first blood from a grizzly bear. Ithappened thus:--

  He was out with Petawanaquat one day, in a narrow defile of themountains. The Indian carried his gun; the boy his bow. Tony's quivercontained two sorts of arrows, one set shod with iron, and sharp, theother set not only blunt, but with a lumpy wooden head, meant not topierce but to stun birds.

  "Ho, look here!" exclaimed Tony, fitting a blunt arrow to the string,and pointing up at a tree, among the branches of which sat a birdresembling a grey hen in size and colour.

  Petawanaquat stopped, let the butt of his gun fall to the ground, restedhis hands on the muzzle, and smiled approval.

  The arrow flew, hit the bird on its astonished eye, and brought it down.

  "Good! Tonyquat will be a great chief," said the red man, with anothergrave nod.

  "Ho, look _there_!" whispered Tony, glaring in the direction of athicket while he fitted a sharp arrow to his bow.

  Turning quickly, the Indian saw a grizzly bear rise from behind a rockand look at the hunters inquiringly. Before he could raise his gun heheard a twang, and next moment saw an arrow quivering in the bear'sneck. The roar of the enraged animal and the report of his own guncommingled. Another instant, and Tony found himself in the midst of thetree out of which he had just brought the grey bird, hurled there byPetawanaquat, who was himself not a moment too soon in climbing to thesame place of refuge. From this point of vantage the Indian, havingcarried his gun up with him, fired several deadly shots, and killed thebear, whose claws Tony afterwards wore in commemoration of the event.

  This was but one of the varied and stirring adventures which befell ourlittle hero while under the care of his red-skinned captor.

  What passed in the mind of the Indian during that winter Tony had littleopportunity of knowing, for he was remarkably taciturn, though at night,when smoking the calumet over his wigwam fire, the thoughtful expressionof his face, and occasional troubled look on his brows, suggested theidea that he was ill at ease. He frequently gazed at his captive as ifabout to speak to him seriously, but as often seemed to abandon the ideawith something like a sigh.

  One evening, however, Petawanaquat seemed more troubled than usual, andheld frequent earnest consultations with Meekeye in an undertone, in themidst of which Tony could distinguish a few words, such as "tracks,""white strangers," "encampment," etcetera. Before going to rest theIndian smoked an extra pipe, and then said--

  "Tonyquat is a brave boy!"

  "Yes," answered Tony, with an air of gravity quite equal to that of hisred father. The few months he had been in captivity had indeed wroughtan almost miraculous change in the child. His ideas were much moremanly. Even his speech had lost its childish lisp, and he had begun toexpress himself somewhat in the allegorical language of the AmericanIndian. Under the influence of a will stronger than his own he hadproved himself an apt scholar.

  "Tonyquat is a boy who keeps his word?" continued the other, with a keenglance.

  Tony turned his large eyes full on the Indian.

  "Has my Indian father ever found Tonyquat telling lies?"

  To this Petawanaquat said "Good," and smoked his pipe with increasingvigour, while Tony sat with his hands clasped over one knee, gazingsternly at the fire, as though he were engaged in consulting on mattersof life and death. He glanced, however, for one instant at Meekeye, tosee that she observed his staid demeanour. The same glance revealed toTony the fact that Meekeye's right foot was rather near the fire, withthe red-hot end of a log close to it. Tony's own left foot chanced torest on the other and unburnt end of the same log. A very gentle motionon his part sufficed to bring Meekeye's toes and the fire into contact.She drew back with a sudden start, but was too much of an Indian toscream. Tony was enough of one to remain motionless and abstracted likea brown statue. The slightest possible twitch at one corner ofPetawanaquat's mouth showed that he had observed the movement, but hisbrow did not relax as he said--

  "Tonyquat must make his red father a promise. White men are cominghere. They travel towards the setting sun. If they hear the voice ofTonyquat they will take him away."

  "Will they take me to my own father?" cried Tony, forgetting his role inthe excitement of the moment.

  "Petawanaquat has said that the white strangers travel towards thesetting sun. Red River lies in the direction of the rising sun. WouldTonyquat like to go with white strangers into the mountains?"

  Tony was most emphatic in his denial of entertaining any such desire,and declared with his wonted candour that he loved Petaw
anaquat andMeekeye next to his own father and mother.

  "If this be so," returned the Indian, "Tonyquat must be dumb when thewhite men speak to him. He must know nothing. His voice must be moresilent than the waters of a lake when the wind is dead."

  Tony promised to be as dumb as a stone, as ignorant as a new-borninfant, and as quiet as a dead man. He then questioned the Indian aboutthe white men, but obtained no further information than thatPetawanaquat had come on their camp unexpectedly the day before, hadobserved them secretly from among the bushes, knew that the route theywere pursuing would infallibly lead them to his wigwam, and thattherefore he had hurried home to be ready for them. He could not tellwho the white men were. They looked like traders--that was all he knew,or, at least, chose to communicate.

  That night Meekeye repainted Tony's neck and face with considerablecare; dyed his luxuriant hair with grease and charcoal; touched up hiseyebrows with the same, and caused him to dirty his hands effectivelywith mud and ashes.

  Next morning, a little after sunrise, the twinkle of bells, the yelpingof dogs, and the cracking of whips were heard. Petawanaquat and Tonyhad just time to step out of the tent when a cariole, somewhat in theform of a slipper-bath, drawn by four dogs, dashed up to the door. Thedogs, being fresh and young, took to fighting. Their driver, who wore ahead-dress with horns, belaboured the combatants and abused them inFrench, while a tall, quiet-looking man arose from the furs of thecariole, and, mounting the slope on which the Indian stood to receivehim, advanced towards the wigwam. Some minutes later another team ofdogs with a provision-sled and driver came rattling up.

  "What cheer?" said the tall man heartily, as he held out his hand.

  "Wat-chee?" replied Petawanaquat, grasping the hand, and repeating thephrase as he had learnt it in the settlements.

  The tall man was very affable, and at once revealed the object of hisjourney. He was a missionary, he said, and was making a tour among thenative tribes of that region to preach the good news of salvation fromsin and its consequences through Jesus Christ the Son of God.

  Petawanaquat listened with grave intelligence, but with the reticence ofan Indian.

  "Some tribes of Indians, I have been told, are encamped not far fromthis spot," said the missionary through his interpreter.

  Petawanaquat admitted that such was the case, and that some lodges ofIndians were pitched in the mountains not two days' march from his tent.

  The missionary entered the wigwam and sat down. He gradually introducedthe subject of his mission, and endeavoured to bring it home to theIndian and his wife, who, however, replied in very brief sentences. Healso addressed Tony, but that sharp child seemed to be lessimpressionable than a pine stump, and refused to utter a word on anysubject. The missionary, however, was a true man, with the love of Godburning brightly in his breast. Although slightly disappointed he wasnot discouraged. He spoke of Christ crucified with great earnestness,and commended the Christian virtues--among others the duty of forgiving,nay, even loving, one's enemies, and especially of returning good forevil. He also dwelt much on the wickedness of harbouring revengefulfeelings, and on the sweetness and blessedness of doing good to others--enforcing his arguments on the latter point by quoting the Saviour's ownwords, "Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so tothem."

  Still the red man listened with stolid composure, Meekeye with apparentindifference, and Tony with absolute vacancy, so that the missionary,after offering up a silent prayer, went on his way with a sad feeling athis heart that his labour with that family of savages had been in vain.He comforted himself, however, with the reflection that it is written,"Your labour is _not_ in vain in the Lord."

  And he was right. His labour had not been in vain, though it was notgiven to him at that time to see the fruit thereof.

  We have said that Petawanaquat had smoked and pondered deeply in theevenings that winter over his wigwam fire. His slightly enlightenedmind had been busy with those difficult problems about good and evil,God and man, which seem to exercise all earnest souls more or less inevery land, savage as well as civilised. The revenge which he had takenon Mr Ravenshaw was sweet--very sweet, for his indignation against thatirascible old gentleman was very bitter; justifiably so, he thought.But the clergyman at Red River had enlightened the red man's conscience,and conscience being once aroused cannot easily be put to sleep again.His reasoning powers told him that the revenge which he had taken wasfar in excess of the injury which he had received. This was unjust, andconscience told him that injustice was wrong. The great Manitou Himselfcould not be unjust. Had He not taken the guilt of man on Himself inthe person of Jesus, in order that, without injustice, He might be thejustifier of sinners? Injustice is wrong, reiterated conscience againand again; but revenge is sweet, thought the Indian.

  Now this visit of the missionary had cleared the mind of Petawanaquat tosome extent. It was a new idea to him that returning good for evil wassweeter than revenge. He coupled this thought with the fact that theSaviour had laid down His life for His _enemies_, and the result wasthat a change, gradual but decided, was wrought in the red man'ssentiments. The seed thus sown by the wayside fell into good ground.Unlike ordinary seed, it bore fruit during the winter, and that fruitripened into action in the spring.

  "Tonyquat," said the red man one morning, after much of the snow hadleft the ground, "your Indian father intends to start on a long journeyto-morrow."

  "Petawanaquat," replied Tony, "your white-faced son is ready to follow."

  It must be understood that Tony's language was figurative, for at thetime he was speaking his "white" face was changed so much by paint andsmoke that it quite equalled that of his adopted father in dirtybrownness.

  "Meekeye will get ready," continued the Indian. "Our journey shall betowards the rising sun."

  The result of this order was that on the following day the Indian'sleather tent was taken down, wrapped up into a bundle, and fastened to acouple of poles along with the rest of the family property. One end ofeach of these poles was fastened to a horse like shafts; the other endswere left to trail on the ground, the load resting between these endsand the steed's tail. It was, as it were, a cart without wheels orbody. Meekeye mounted the horse after the fashion of a man.Petawanaquat and Tony together mounted another steed. Three dogs formedpart of the establishment. These were harnessed to little poles likethose of the horse, and each dragged a little load proportioned to hissize. Thus they left the spur of the Rocky Mountains and travelled overthe plains towards Red River settlement.

  About the same time, and with the same destination in view, and not fardistant from the same region, another party on horseback commenced theirjourney towards the rising sun.

  The two parties ultimately met--but these and other matters we shallreserve for our next chapter.