Kitabı oku: «The Prairie Flower: A Tale of the Indian Border», sayfa 13

"I confess – "

"Listen to me," the hunter interrupted him; "you must first – "

"Here is the chief," the young man exclaimed.

"Confusion!" Bright-eye growled. "Why could he not stop a few minutes longer? I am sure that red devil has some familiar spirit to warn him; but no matter, I have told you enough to prevent your being trapped by false friendliness; besides, I shall be there to support you."

"Thanks. When the time comes – "

"I will warn you; but it is urgent that you should now compose your countenance, and pretend to know nothing."

"Good; that's settled; here is our man. Silence."

"On the contrary, let us talk; silence is ever interpreted either well or ill, but generally in the latter sense. Be careful to reply in the sense of my questions."

"I will try."

"Here is our man. Let us cheat the cheater."

After casting a cunning glance at the chief, who was only a few paces off at the moment, he continued aloud, and changing his tone, —

"What you ask, Mr. Edward, is most simple. I am certain that the chief will be happy to procure you that pleasure."

"Do you think so?" the young man asked, not knowing what the hunter was alluding to.

Bright-eye turned to Natah Otann, who arrived at the moment, and rode silently by their side, though he had heard the two men's last remarks.

"My companion," he said to the chief, "has heard a great deal of, and longs to see, a caribou hunt. I have offered him in your name, chief, one of those magnificent battues, of which you Redskins have reserved the scent."

"Natah Otann will be happy to satisfy his guest," the sachem replied, bowing with Indian gravity.

The Count thanked him.

"We are approaching the village of my tribe," the chief continued; "we shall be there in an hour; the Palefaces will see how I receive my friends."

The Blackfeet, who had hitherto galloped without order, gradually grew together, and formed a compact squadron round their chief. The little party continued to advance, approaching more and more the Missouri, which rolled on majestically between two high banks, covered with osier beds, whence, on the approach of the horsemen, startled flocks of pink flamingoes rose in alarm. On reaching a spot where the path formed a bend, the Indians stopped, and prepared their weapons as if for a fight; some taking their guns out of their leathern cases, and loading them; others preparing their bows and javelins.

"Are the fellows afraid of an attack?" the Count asked Bright-eye.

"Not the least in the world," the latter answered; "they are only a few minutes' ride from their village, into which they wish to enter in triumph, in order to do you honour."

"Come, come!" the young man said; "all this is charming; I did not expect, on coming to the prairies, to be present at such singular scenes."

"You have seen nothing yet," the hunter said, ironically: "wait, we are only at the beginning."

"All the better," the Count answered, joyfully.

Natah Otann made a sign, and the warriors closed up again at the same moment; although no one was visible, a noise of conchs, drums, and chichikouès was heard a short distance off. The warriors uttered their war yell, and replied by raising to their lips their war whistles. Natah Otann then placed himself at the head of the party, having the Count on his right, the hunter and Ivon on his left; and, turning towards his men, he brandished his weapon several times over his head, uttering two or three shrill whistles. At this signal the whole troop rushed forward, and turned the corner like an avalanche.

The Frenchman then witnessed a strange scene, which was not without a certain amount of savage grandeur, A troop of warriors from the village came up, like a tornado, to meet the newcomers, shouting, howling, brandishing their arms, and firing their guns. The two parties charged each other with extraordinary fury and at full speed; but when scarce ten yards apart, the horses stopped, as if of their own impulse, and began dancing, curvetting, and performing all the most difficult tricks of the riding school. After these manoeuvres had lasted a few moments, the two bands formed a semicircle opposite each other, leaving a free space between them, in which the chiefs collected. The presentations then began. Natah Otann made a long harangue to the chiefs, in which he gave them an account of his expedition, and the result he had obtained. The sachems listened to it with thorough Indian decorum. When he spoke to them of his meeting with the white men, and what had occurred, they bowed silently, without replying; but one chief, of venerable aspect, who seemed older than the rest, and appeared to be treated with great consideration by his companions, turned a profound and inquiring glance at the Count, when Natah Otann spoke of him. The young man, troubled, in spite of himself, by the fixed glance, stooped down to Bright-eye's ear, and asked him, in a low voice, who the man was.

"That is White Buffalo," the hunter answered, "the European I spoke to you about."

"Ah, ah!" the Count said, regarding him, in his turn, attentively; "I do not know why, but I believe I shall have a serious row with that gentleman before I have done."

The White Buffalo then took the word.

"My brothers are welcome," he said; "their return to the tribe is a festival; they are intrepid warriors; we are happy at hearing the way in which they have performed the duties entrusted to them." Then he turned to the white men, and, after bowing to them, continued, – "The Kenhas are poor, but strangers are always well received by them: the Palefaces are our guests, all we possess belongs to them."

The Count and his companions thanked the chief, who so gracefully did the honours of his tribe; then the two parties joined, and galloped toward the village, which was built some five hundred paces from the spot where they were, and at the entrance of which a multitude of women and children could be seen assembled.

CHAPTER XIV
THE RECEPTION

Like all the centres of Indian population near the American clearings, the Kenha village was more like a fort than an open town. As we said before, the Kenhas had only a short time previously established themselves there, by the advice of Natah Otann. The spot was magnificently selected, and owing to the precautions taken, the hill was completely protected from a sudden attack. The wigwams were built without any order, on both sides a stream, and the fortifications consisted of a sort of intrenchment formed of dead trees. These fortifications formed an inclosure, having several angles, and the gorge or open part rested on the spot where the stream fell into the Missouri. A parapet of tree stems and piled up branches, built up on the edge of a deep ditch, completed a very respectable defensive system, which few would have expected to find in the heart of the prairies.

In the centre of the village, a wide, vacant spot served as the meeting place for the chiefs. In the centre there was a wigwam of wood, in the shape of a sugar loaf. On either side of the building, maize, wheat, and other cereals kept for winter consumption were drying. A little in advance of the village were two block houses, formed of arrow-shaped intrenchments, covered with wickerwork, provided with loopholes, and surrounded by an enclosure of palisades. They were intended for the defence of the village, with which they communicated by a covered way, and to command the river and the plain. To leeward of these block houses, and about a mile to the east, might be seen a number of Machotlé, or scaffoldings, on which the Blood Indians lay their dead. At regular distances on the road leading to the village, long poles were planted in the ground, from which hung skins, scalps, and other objects offered by the Indians to the Master of Life and the first man.

The Indians made their entrance into the village amid the cheers of the women and children, the barking of dogs, and the deafening clamour of drums, shells, chichikouès, and war whistles. On reaching the square, at a signal from Natah Otann, the band halted, and the noise ceased. An immense fire had been prepared, before which stood an aged chief, still robust and upright. A shade of melancholy was spread over his face. He was in mourning, as was easily to be seen by the ragged clothes that covered him, and his hair cut short and mingled with clay. He held in his hand a Dacotah pipe, the stem of which was long and adorned with yellow glistening beads. This man was Cloven Foot, the first and most renowned sachem of the Kenhas. So soon as the band had halted, he advanced two paces, and with a majestic gesture invited the chiefs to dismount.

"My sons are at home," he said, "let them take their seats on the buffalo robes around the council fire."

Each obeyed silently, and sat down, after bowing respectfully to the sachem. Cloven Foot then allowed each to take a few puffs from his pipe, still holding it in his hand. When it was returned to him, he emptied the burning ash into the fire, and turning with a kind of smile to the strangers, said: —

"The Palefaces are our guests. There are fire and water here."

After these words, which ended the ceremony, all rose and retired without uttering a word, according to the Indian custom. Natah Otann then went up to the Count.

"Let my brother follow me," he said.

"Where to?" the young man asked.

"To the cabin I have had prepared for him."

"And my companions?"

"Other wigwams await them."

Bright-eye made a sign, immediately checked by the Count.

"Pardon, chief," he said, "but with your permission my comrades will live with me."

The hunter smiled, as a shade of dissatisfaction crossed the Indian's face.

"The young Pale chief will be uncomfortable, for he is accustomed to the immense huts of the whites."

"That is possible; but I shall be more uncomfortable if my comrades do not remain with me, in order to keep me company."

"The hospitality of the Kenhas is great. They are rich, and could give each a private cabin, even if their guests were more numerous."

"I am convinced of it, and thank them for their attention, by which, however, I decline to profit. Solitude frightens me. I should be worried to death had I not with me someone to talk with."

"Be it then as the young Pale chief desires. Guests have a right to command. Their requests are orders."

"I thank you for your condescension, and am ready to follow you."

"Come."

With that rapidity of resolution which the Indians possess in so eminent a degree, Natah Otann shut up his vexation in his heart, and not a trace of emotion again appeared on his stoical countenance. The three men followed him, after exchanging a meaning glance. A handsome, lofty cabin had been built in the square itself, near the hut of the first man, a species of cylinder formed in the earth, and surrounded with creeping plants. To this cabin the chief now led his guests. A woman was standing silently in the doorway, fixing on the newcomers a glance in which admiration and astonishment were blended. But was it a woman? this angelic creature, with her vague outline, whose delicious face, blushing with modesty and simple curiosity, turned towards the Count with anxious timidity. The young man asked himself this very question on contemplating this charming apparition, which resembled one of those divine virgins in the mythology of the ancient Sclavons. On seeing her, Natah Otann paused.

"What is my sister doing here?" he asked her, roughly.

The girl, startled from her silent contemplation by this brusque address, shuddered, and let her eyes fall.

"Prairie-Flower wishes to welcome her adopted father," she replied gently, in a sweet melodious voice.

"Prairie-Flower's place is not here, I will speak with her presently: let her go and rejoin her companions, the young maidens of the tribe."

Prairie-Flower blushed still deeper, her rosy lips pouted, and after shaking her head petulantly twice, she flew away like a bird, casting at the Count, as she fled, a parting glance, which caused him an incomprehensible emotion.

The young man laid his hand on his heart, to suppress its beating, and followed the girl with his eyes till she disappeared behind a cabin.

"Oh!" the chief muttered aside, "can she have suddenly recognized a being of that accursed race to which she belongs?"

Then turning to the white men, whose eyes he felt instinctively were fixed on him, —

"Enter," he said, raising the buffalo skin, which served as a door to the cabin.

They went in. By Natah Otann's care the cabin had been cleaned, and every comfort it was possible to find placed in it, that is to say – piles of furs to serve as a bed, a rickety table, some wooden clumsy benches, and a species of reed easy chair, with a large back.

"The Paleface will excuse the poor Indians if they have not done more to welcome him as he deserves," the chief said, with a mixture of irony and humility.

"It is all famous," the young man answered with a smile; "I certainly did not expect so much; besides, I have been on the prairie long enough to satisfy myself with what is strictly necessary."

"Now I ask the Pale chiefs permission to retire."

"Yes, go, my worthy host; do so: do not put yourself out of the way. Attend to your business. For my part I intend taking that rest I need so sadly."

Natah Otann bowed in reply, and withdrew. So soon as he was gone, Bright-eye made his comrades a sign to remain motionless, and began inspecting the place, peering into every corner. When he had ended this inspection, which produced no farther result than proving to him they were really alone, and that no spy was on the watch, he returned to the centre of the hut, and calling the Count and Ivon toward him, said in a low voice: —

"Listen: we are now in the wolfs throat by our own fault, and we must be prudent; in the prairies the leaves have eyes and the trees ears. Natah Otann is a demon, who is planning some treachery, of which he intends to make us the victims."

"Bah!" the Count said, lightly. "How do you know it, Bright-eye?"

"I do not know it, yet I feel sure of it; my instinct never deceives me, Mr. Edward. I have known the Kenhas a long time; we must get out of this as adroitly as we can."

"Eh! what use are such suspicions, my friend? The poor devils, I am convinced, only think of treating us properly; all this appears to me admirable."

The Canadian shook his head.

"I should like to know the cause of the strange respect the Indians pay you; that conceals something, I repeat."

"Bah! they are afraid of me; that's all."

"Hum! Natah Otann does not fear much in this world."

"Why, Bright-eye, I never saw you in this state before. Did I not know you so thoroughly, I should say you were afraid."

"Hang me! if I'll try to conceal it," the hunter replied, quickly. "I am afraid, and terribly so."

"You?"

"Yes; but not for myself; you know that during the time I have journeyed on the prairies, if the Redskins could have killed me, they would have done so. Hence, I am perfectly calm on my own account, and were there only myself – "

"Well?"

"I should not be at all embarrassed."

"Whom are you afraid for, then?"

"For you."

"Me!" the Count exclaimed, as he reclined carelessly in the easy chair. "You do these scamps a deal of honour. With my whip I would put all these hideous people to flight."

The hunter shook his head.

"You will not, Mr. Edward, persuade yourself thoroughly of one thing."

"What?"

"That the Indians are different men from the Europeans with whom you have hitherto had dealings."

"Nonsense, were a man to listen to you wood rangers, he would be, at every two steps, in danger of death, and it would be impossible to move, except by crawling on all fours, like the wild beasts; that is all trash, my good fellow. I fancy I have already twenty times proved to you that such precautions are useless, and that a man, who boldly meets danger, will always get the best of the most warlike Redskins."

"It is exactly the reason that makes them act toward you in that way, I wish to discover."

"You would do better to try and discover something else."

"What is it?"

"Who that charming girl is, of whom I only had a glance, and whom the chief sent away so brutally."

"Good! then I suppose you have fallen in love now; that's the last thing wanting."

"Why not? She is a charming girl."

"Yes; she is charming, sir; but, believe me, do not trouble yourself about her."

"And why so, if you please?"

"Because she is not what she seems to be."

"Why, it's a perfect romance of the Anne Radcliffe school; we have been advancing from mystery to mystery during the last few days."

"Yes, and the further we go, the more gloomy matters will become around us."

"Bah, bah! I do not believe a word. Ivon, take off my boots."

The man-servant obeyed. Since his entry into the village, the worthy Breton had been in one continued trance, and trembled in all his limbs. All he saw seemed to him so extraordinary and horrible, that he expected every moment to be massacred.

"Well," the Count asked him, "what do you think of it all, Ivon?"

"Your lordship knows that I am a great coward," the Breton stammered.

"Yes, yes, that is agreed; go on."

"I am terribly afraid."

"Naturally."

"And if your lordship will allow me, I will carry my furs over there, and sleep across the doorway."

"Why so?"

"Because, as I am very frightened, I shall not sleep soundly; and if anyone comes in the night, with ill intentions, he will be obliged to step over me; I shall hear him, and, in that way, be able to warn you, which will give you time to defend yourself."

The young man threw himself back, and burst into a Homeric laugh, in which Bright-eye joined, in spite of his thoughtfulness.

"By Jove!" the Count exclaimed, looking at his servant, who was in amazement at this gaiety, which seemed to him unsuitable at so grave a moment – "I must confess, Ivon, that you are the most extraordinary poltroon I ever saw."

"Ah, sir," he answered with contrition, "it is not my fault; for I do all I can to gain courage, but it is impossible."

"Good, good!" the young man went on, still laughing. "I am not angry with you, my poor fellow; as it is stronger than yourself, you must put up with it."

"Alas!" the Breton said, uttering an enormous sigh.

"Well, you can sleep how and where you like, Ivon; I leave it entirely to you."

The Breton, without further reply, began transferring the furs to the place he had selected, while the Count went on talking with the hunter.

"As for you, Bright-eye," he said, "I leave you at liberty to watch over our safety as you may think proper, promising not to disarrange your plans in any way, and even to promote them, if necessary – but on one condition."

"What?"

"That you will arrange so that I may meet again that charming creature, of whom I have already spoken to you."

"Take care, Mr. Edward!"

"I want to see her again, I tell you, even if I am obliged to go and look for her myself."

"You will not do so, Mr. Edward."

"I will do so, on my soul! and at once, if you continue in that tone."

"You will reflect."

"I now reflect, and find it the best plan."

"But do you know who that girl is?"

"By Jove! you have just said it; she is a girl, and a charming one in the bargain."

"Granted; but I repeat, she is loved by Natah Otann."

"What do I care?"

"Take care!"

"I will not: I must see her again."

"At any risk?"

"At all."

"Well, listen to me, then."

"I will, but be brief."

"I will tell you this girl's history."

"You know her then?"

"I do."

"Go on; I am all attention."

Bright-eye drew up a bench, eat down with an air of dissatisfaction, and, after a moment's reflection, began.

"Just fifteen years ago, Natah Otann, who was hardly twenty years of age, but already a renowned warrior, left his tribe, at the head of some fifty picked warriors, to attempt a coup de main on the Whites. At that period, the Kenhas did not live where they now are; the Fur Company had not advanced so far on the Missouri, and Fort Mackenzie did not exist. The Blood Indians hunted freely on the vast territories from which the Americans have since expelled them. Up to that moment, Natah Otann had never been the commander in chief of an expedition; like all young men of his age and circumstances, his brow shone with pride; he burned to distinguish himself, and prove to the sachems of his nation that he was worthy to command brave warriors. So soon as he entered on the war trail, he scattered his spies in every direction, and even forbade his men smoking, lest the light of their pipes might betray his presence. In short, he took, with extreme wisdom, all the precautions employed in similar cases. His expedition was brilliant; he surprised several caravans, and plundered and burned the clearings; his men returned laden with booty, and the bits of their horses garnished with scalps. Natah Otann only brought back, as his share, a weak creature of two or three years of age at the most, whom he bore tenderly in his arms, or laid on the front of his saddle. That child was the tall and lovely girl you saw today."

"Ah! Is she white or red, American or Spanish?"

"No one knows; no one will ever know. You are aware that many Indians are born white, thus colour is of no avail in finding her relations again. In short, the chief adopted her; but, strange to say, as she grew up, she gained such an ascendency over Natah Otann's mind, that the chief of the tribe grew alarmed; besides, the life led by Prairie-Flower – that is her name – "

"I knew it," the Count interrupted him.

"Good," the hunter continued, "I say, then, that this girl's life is extraordinary; instead of being sportive and laughing, like girls of her age, she is gloomy, dreamy, and wild, wandering ever alone on the prairie, flying over the dew-laden grass like a gazelle; or else, at night, dreaming in the moonlight, and muttering words no one hears. At times, from a distance (for no one ventures to approach her), another shadow may be traced by the side of her's, and moving for hours at her side: then she returns alone to the village; if questioned, only shakes her head, and begins crying."

"That is really strange."

"Is it not? so much so, that the chiefs assembled in council, and agreed that Prairie-Flower had cast a charm over her adopted father."

"The asses!" the Count muttered.

"Perhaps so," the hunter went on, turning his head; "at any rate, they agreed that she should be left alone to perish in the desert."

"Poor child! Well, what happened then?"

"Natah Otann and White Buffalo, who were not summoned to the council, went there on learning this decision, and succeeded by their deceitful words in so thoroughly altering the chiefs' sentiments, that they not only gave up all idea of deserting her, but she has since been regarded as the tutelary genius of the tribe."

"And Natah Otann?"

"His condition is still the same."

"Is that all?"

"It is."

"Well, then, Bright-eye, within two days I shall know whether that girl is the enchantress you fancy her, and what I am to think on the subject."

The hunter only answered by an unintelligible grunt, and, saying no more, lay down on his furs.