Neither Amokeat nor any of his warriors was mounted on Whirlwind.
Deerfoot had to struggle to restrain his indignation. Had he been within reach of Amokeat at that moment, it is not unlikely he would have dragged him from his horse and given him a lesson he could never forget. The very thing the Shawanoe had feared from the first had occurred: the stallion was either stolen or dead.
But as Deerfoot advanced to meet the party, who soon observed and identified him, he pulled himself together. It would have taken one who knew him intimately, like Simon Kenton, or George or Victor Shelton, to read in the slightly pale face and peculiar gleam of the dark eyes the evidence of the emotion that the Shawanoe held well under control.
It was in the depth of a broad valley, where there was a semblance to a trail which had been made by bison or other animals on their way to water, that Chief Amokeat drew up and awaited the approach of the Shawanoe. The latter, as was his custom, made a half-military salute, and, without any more preliminaries came to the point. He used the Blackfoot tongue, which was familiar to the Nez Perce.
“Deerfoot seeks his horse. Where is he?”
Amokeat must have expected the question, for he shook his head and answered in the language of the Blackfeet:
“Amokeat is grieved to tell Deerfoot he will never see the horse he loves again. It saddens the heart of Amokeat, but he speaks with a single tongue.”
“Is my horse dead?”
“That Amokeat does not know. Yesterday the Assiniboines took him from us, and they are now far on their way to their villages.”
“Why did Amokeat take my horse from where Deerfoot had left him? Why did he not wait until he could see Deerfoot and ask him. He has stolen my horse.”
This was a pointed charge, but Deerfoot could not wholly curb his anger. The chief, however, did not seem to feel the sting of the words, though more than one of his warriors, who had drawn up their horses and were looking on and listening, showed resentment.
Amokeat now proceeded to tell in his own way what had befallen him and his companions. He said they had started out for a hunt, though expecting to have an encounter with some of their enemies before their return. At a point about a hundred miles to the northeast, while riding through a cañon, they were suddenly attacked by fully a hundred red men, whom they recognized as Assiniboines that were a long way from their hunting grounds.
While it is more than likely the Nez Perce leader exaggerated the number of his assailants, no doubt they were superior to the smaller company. The latter put up a brave fight, but before they could extricate themselves from the trap five of their number were shot from their horses. This statement showed that originally the Nez Perces numbered more than a score.
Amokeat was on the back of Whirlwind, who carried him off with such amazing speed that he was soon separated from his warriors. Deerfoot’s lips curled when he heard this statement, for to him it was a proof of the cowardice of the chief. The party had no time to recover the bodies of their fallen comrades, who were left to be scalped and despoiled by the victors, the stray horses also passing into the hands of the Assiniboines.
Amokeat was in full flight when, in dashing through a mass of undergrowth, he suddenly came face to face with eight or ten Assiniboines (probably the number was less). He was ambushed so cleverly that escape was out of the question. He would have resisted, however, had not one of his enemies called out that he wished to have a parley with him.
This warrior, who was the leader of the little party, told Amokeat that if he would swap the black stallion he rode for the pony of the Assiniboines, the chief would not be harmed, but would be left free to go to his own home. Had the grinning Nez Perce put his conclusion in English, it would have been something like this:
“I counted myself most fortunate, for what was to prevent the Assiniboines from shooting me from the back of the stallion and then taking him away with them? So the trade was made and he is now in the hands of the Assiniboines.”
CHAPTER IV
The Land of the Assiniboines
As Deerfoot listened to the story of the Nez Perce leader his gorge steadily rose, for the account was worse, if possible, than he had expected to hear. Not only did he resent the cool appropriation of his steed by Amokeat, but he read the proof of the cowardice of the chief, who had deserted his companions when in peril and then, instead of making a brave defence when cornered by the Assiniboines, had eagerly passed over to them the property of another in order to secure his own safety.
The Shawanoe could not trust himself any further in the presence of Amokeat, who sat on the back of his pony and looked serenely down in his face, exulting over his own escape from the revenge of an enemy.
“Amokeat is a dog!” exclaimed Deerfoot, compressing his lips, turning around and walking from the presence of the chief and his party. He was on the alert, for he half expected an attack from more than one of them. If they had such action in mind, it was changed by the command of the leader, who called to them to follow him as he resumed the journey toward his own village.
The Shawanoe had learned several important facts. Whirlwind had passed from the hands of the Nez Perces to those of a wandering band of Assiniboines, whose villages and hunting grounds lay well to the northeast, some below and some above the boundary line in the country of the Saskatchewan. Thither the Shawanoe would go, though knowing absolutely nothing of the region or the people. In his contemptuous scorn of Amokeat, Deerfoot did not so much as look behind him until the afternoon was nearly gone and night was closing in. Then, when he turned his gaze to the rear, he saw nothing of men or horses.
He was thinking hard. It was evident that the only course which promised hope was for him to keep to the trail left by the Nez Perces until he reached the scene of the fight. From that point he would be guided by the footprints of the Assiniboine animals. Of course there was no distinguishable difference between those of Whirlwind and the impressions made by any other of his species, but there ought to be little difficulty in keeping to the main trail until he ran the party down.
You will understand that a number of puzzling complications threatened. It might be that the Assiniboines would continue their hunting or raiding excursions for days, turning off and pushing to the south or east or west, with a view of attacking some of the tribes within United States territory. The Shawanoe hoped that such would be the course of the raiders, for it would simplify the situation. He would have a small party to operate against, instead of a whole village or tribe.
A singular difficulty presented itself. Deerfoot relied upon entering the Assiniboine settlements or joining the raiders without rousing any suspicion of his real errand. Then he would content himself in patience and await a chance of slipping off with Whirlwind. The likelihood of gaining such opportunity would be almost destroyed if his errand became known. Now, the danger of betrayal was in the stallion himself. He could not be made to understand the need of cunning and silence, but was sure to show his joy at sight of his owner. When this was observed by his captors, they would be certain to connect it with the long journey of the stranger, who would then have all he could do to guard his own life.
Reflecting over this probable phase of the situation, Deerfoot decided what his own conduct should be. He resolved that if Whirlwind made a rush for him, thereby revealing the truth, he would leap upon his back, throw himself forward, and send the steed flying off at the highest speed. There would be imminent risk of both being shot before they could pass beyond range, but the danger would be no greater than the Shawanoe had faced many times, and still he did not bear a scar upon his body.
His plan, however, was to rely upon subtlety. If he could succeed in locating his pet, he would keep out of the animal’s sight until the crisis came. He knew Whirlwind was alive, and was not very far off. Less than two days previous he had passed over the same spot, and the trail left by him and his companions could be readily followed.
So it was that the young Shawanoe pressed forward wit
h long, swift strides until the gloom shut out all sight of the footprints. He could calculate quite closely from the different landmarks the course followed by the Nez Perces, but he determined to run no chances. Time was too precious, and he was resolved not to go astray.
He was in a wild, mountainous country, interspersed with ridges, isolated peaks and lofty ranges. There were numerous valleys, cañons, gorges and ravines, with stretches of wood and stunted undergrowth. The sound of falling waters, cascades and rapids was hardly ever absent. Naturally the horsemen had sought the most favorable route, keeping mainly to the valleys, but occasionally riding over elevated portions. Thus the course was easier for Deerfoot than it would have been had the party been on foot like himself. The Assiniboines were not likely to make haste, for they had no reason for doing so. With his long strides, his lope and occasional running, as the ground offered the chance, the pursuer knew he was gaining upon those whom he was so anxious to overtake.
When night had fairly come, Deerfoot sought out a place among the rocks in which to sleep. He did not look for food, nor did he so much as drink from the mountain stream that he heard rippling near at hand. It took some time to find a suitable spot for a bed. He fixed upon a cavity large enough for him to stretch out with his blanket wrapped about him. He could have readily kindled a fire, but preferred not to do so, since it was liable to draw the attention of wild animals, or possibly of those of his own race who might be in the vicinity. As it was, a prowling wolf or bear might threaten, but the youth felt no misgiving when, after spending a brief time in prayer, he lay down and speedily sank into slumber.
At the first streakings of light he was on his feet. Praying again, he fastened his blanket about his shoulders, knelt at the mountain stream, drank deeply, bathed face and hands and was off once more. No move was made toward procuring the morning meal, which most folks in his situation would have found indispensable.
The trail was clearly marked, but before resuming his pursuit Deerfoot climbed to the highest elevation near at hand and spent a few minutes in studying the surrounding country. The main features were similar to those already described, except perhaps in the increase of the ruggedness of the scenery. He was within the Rocky Mountain district, but kept mainly to the foothills, where journeying was easier than among the mountains themselves.
Noting that the general course of the trail he was following up was from the northeast, he scanned with special interest the country in that direction. He picked out a point some twenty miles distant as the place where the Nez Perces were most likely to have made one of their camps. While he might have shortened the time by keeping a direct line to it, he stuck to his resolution not to turn aside from the trail.
Though he did not catch sight of any horseman, he saw that which roused his curiosity. Hardly a mile away he observed a single Indian coming toward him on foot. It may be said the stranger leaped into view, for Deerfoot was looking over a certain spot at the country beyond when a peculiar, flitting movement caused him to depress his glass to learn the cause.
The Indian seemed to have been following a roughly marked path, when he came to a huge boulder, which, instead of passing around, he climbed, walked across the top, and then dropped to the ground again. It was this action which caused Deerfoot to turn his gaze upon him.
Under the glass the stranger was seen with as much distinctness as if he were only a few rods distant. When looking at him the Shawanoe, for the first time in his life, saw a dwarf belonging to his own race. The man had broad shoulders and body and sturdy legs, but his height could not have been more than four and a half feet. Moreover he was very bow-legged, was a hunchback, had a broad mouth, a flat nose and small twinkling eyes. His long black hair dangled loosely about his shoulders, he was clad in a hunting dress similar to that worn by the Shawanoe, except that he was without a blanket, and his clothing was much shabbier. He carried a bow fully double his own length, and advanced with a curious sidelong, wabbling gait, which accented more strikingly his difference from those of his own people.
When the astonished Deerfoot had noted these peculiarities, he scanned the vicinity of the dwarf for his companions. None was seen, and our friend decided that the fellow was entirely alone. It was impossible to make a guess as to the tribe to which he belonged, though Deerfoot suspected, without any particular reason, that he was an Assiniboine. As to how he came to be by himself, and traveling southward, no theory could be formed by the astute Shawanoe.
The latter lowered his glass, and, standing in full view, watched the hunchback as he drew near with his crab-like, wabbling gait. Although the Shawanoe was a much more conspicuous object on the landscape, it was evident the other did not discover him until he was almost within a hundred yards. No better proof could have been asked that the stranger was afflicted with poor eyesight.
Suddenly he descried the form on the rocks and stopped short. He was startled. Then he began hurriedly drawing an arrow from the bundle hung behind his shoulder. It was a curious coincidence, which caught Deerfoot’s notice, that the dwarf was left-handed like himself. The latter laid his gun at his feet and raised both hands above his head, a sign of friendship. The stranger paused in his warlike preparations, but seemed in doubt whether to launch a missile or to accept the sign of comity. Deerfoot picked up his weapon, held his other hand over his head, and began carefully descending the elevation. He kept a close watch on the other, for he half expected he would let fly with his arrow, and it would have been unpleasant, to say the least, to act as a target, even at a considerable distance. The dwarf stood motionless, closely watching the Shawanoe as he came toward him, evidently doubting and hesitating, but Deerfoot kept up his signs of goodwill, which the other could not fail to understand.
It is not unreasonable to believe that the personality of Deerfoot had much to do with removing the misgivings of the stranger, for the smiling face of the Shawanoe as he drew near would have impressed anyone, though Deerfoot himself would never have admitted anything of the kind. Be that as it may, the meeting was friendly, though Deerfoot did not offer his hand in greeting, for he thought it unlikely that the other would have understood the meaning of the salutation.
He addressed the stranger in the Blackfoot tongue, only to receive a shake of the head in reply. The dwarf did not understand a syllable. In response, he used a language that was “all Greek” to the Shawanoe. There was no common ground, except that of signs, upon which the two could meet, and that was of slight service.
“Assiniboine? Assiniboine?” asked Deerfoot, with a marked rising inflection. Another shake of the head might indicate a denial of such tribal relation, or what was more likely, a failure to comprehend the question. Deerfoot repeated the word “Nez Perce,” and was replied to as before.
The first bit of information that the Shawanoe could gather for a time was that the Indian of abbreviated stature came from the north. That was clearly established, as was the direction which he was following, but nothing was brought to light as to the nature of his errand in the south.
The thought had been in the mind of our friend from the first that this misshapen red man had seen the party of Assiniboines who held Whirlwind. How was the question to be asked?
Deerfoot stepped to a tree resembling the water maple that grew a few feet to the right of them. Its diameter was a foot or more. With his hunting knife he cut out a square some six inches in diameter and carefully peeled it off, the other attentively watching him all the time.
Deerfoot now proceeded to trace on the filmy inner side of the bark with the point of his knife the outlines of a horse with unusually long tail and mane. This done, he depicted a warrior sitting on him with no saddle except a blanket and without bridle. When the crude but symmetrical picture was finished, he handed the piece of bark to the other. The dwarf studied it a minute or two with close interest, Deerfoot meanwhile watching his countenance.
Suddenly the homely visage lit up. The stranger recognized the figure of the beautiful stallion. He
had seen him!
With a thrill of hope the Shawanoe pointed north, his gesture clearly meaning that he wished to know whether it was there the animal had been met. The stranger shook his head. Deerfoot was disappointed, fearing his meaning had not been understood. It seemed to him that the Assiniboine horsemen must be journeying in that direction, and the negative motion of the other’s head might indicate that he did not catch the drift of the question.
Deerfoot now pointed toward the rising sun, only to be answered by another shake of his head. He next indicated the northeast. The dwarf nodded vigorously several times. Then he gazed steadily into the handsome face and began circling one of his hands rapidly around his head, pointing to his moccasins and then to the sky. These peculiar gestures were repeated a number of times, when they ceased as abruptly as they began.
The Shawanoe could not form the first idea of what the man was trying to say, nor did he ever learn.
The dwarf perceived that he could not make himself understood, gave up the effort, and with an awkward good-bye resumed his tramp southward. Uncertain of what whim might suddenly take possession of him, Deerfoot, while also moving in the opposite direction, kept a furtive watch to the rear. He did not see the dwarf look behind him and it is not probable that he meditated any wrong.
The Shawanoe was not satisfied with what had occurred. Glancing down at the trail and as far ahead as it could be traced, he saw that its course was due north. He believed that it led for a long way toward that point of the compass. If such proved the fact the hunchback had tried to deceive the inquirer by making him believe that Whirlwind was to be sought to the northeast. The Shawanoe could no longer doubt that the nature of his inquiry had been understood, and the reply of the dwarf was clear. Deerfoot was inclined to believe the strange creature really belonged to the Assiniboine tribe and was trying to shield his countrymen.
The Edward S. Ellis Megapack Page 246
