The Prairie (57 page)

Is this proceeding just and honourable?
—Shakespeare.

During the occurrence of these events on the upland plain, the warriors
on the bottom had not been idle. We left the adverse bands watching one
another on the opposite banks of the stream, each endeavouring to excite
its enemy to some act of indiscretion, by the most reproachful taunts
and revilings. But the Pawnee chief was not slow to discover that his
crafty antagonist had no objection to waste the time so idly, and, as
they mutually proved, in expedients that were so entirely useless. He
changed his plans, accordingly, and withdrew from the bank, as has been
already explained through the mouth of the trapper, in order to invite
the more numerous host of the Siouxes to cross. The challenge was not
accepted, and the Loups were compelled to frame some other method to
attain their end.

Instead of any longer throwing away the precious moments, in fruitless
endeavours to induce his foe to cross the stream, the young partisan
of the Pawnees led his troops, at a swift gallop, along its margin, in
quest of some favourable spot, where by a sudden push he might throw his
own band without loss to the opposite shore. The instant his object
was discovered, each mounted Teton received a footman behind him, and
Mahtoree was still enabled to concentrate his whole force against the
effort. Perceiving that his design was anticipated, and unwilling to
blow his horses by a race that would disqualify them for service, even
after they had succeeded in outstripping the more heavily-burdened
cattle of the Siouxes, Hard-Heart drew up, and came to a dead halt on
the very margin of the water-course.

As the country was too open for any of the usual devices of savage
warfare, and time was so pressing, the chivalrous Pawnee resolved to
bring on the result by one of those acts of personal daring, for which
the Indian braves are so remarkable, and by which they often purchase
their highest and dearest renown. The spot he had selected was
favourable to such a project. The river, which throughout most of its
course was deep and rapid, had expanded there to more than twice its
customary width, and the rippling of its waters proved that it flowed
over a shallow bottom. In the centre of the current there was an
extensive and naked bed of sand, but a little raised above the level
of the stream and of a colour and consistency which warranted, to a
practised eye, that it afforded a firm and safe foundation for the foot.
To this spot the partisan now turned his wistful gaze, nor was he long
in making his decision. First speaking to his warriors, and apprising
them of his intentions, he dashed into the current, and partly by
swimming, and more by the use of his horse's feet, he reached the island
in safety.

The experience of Hard-Heart had not deceived him. When his snorting
steed issued from the water, he found himself on a tremendous but damp
and compact bed of sand, that was admirably adapted to the exhibition
of the finest powers of the animal. The horse seemed conscious of the
advantage, and bore his warlike rider, with an elasticity of step and
a loftiness of air, that would have done no discredit to the highest
trained and most generous charger. The blood of the chief himself
quickened with the excitement of his situation. He sat the beast as
if conscious that the eyes of two tribes were on his movements; and as
nothing could be more acceptable and grateful to his own band, than this
display of native grace and courage, so nothing could be more taunting
and humiliating to their enemies.

The sudden appearance of the Pawnee on the sands was announced among the
Tetons, by a general yell of savage anger. A rush was made to the shore,
followed by a discharge of fifty arrows and a few fusees, and, on the
part of several braves, there was a plain manifestation of a desire to
plunge into the water, in order to punish the temerity of their insolent
foe. But a call and a mandate, from Mahtoree, checked the rising, and
nearly ungovernable, temper of his band. So far from allowing a single
foot to be wet, or a repetition of the fruitless efforts of his people
to drive away their foe with missiles, the whole of the party was
commanded to retire from the shore, while he himself communicated his
intentions to one or two of his most favoured followers.

When the Pawnees observed the rush of their enemies, twenty warriors
rode into the stream; but so soon as they perceived that the Tetons
had withdrawn, they fell back to a man, leaving the young chief to the
support of his own often-tried skill and well-established courage. The
instructions of Hard-Heart, on quitting his band, had been worthy of the
self-devotion and daring of his character. So long as single warriors
came against him, he was to be left to the keeping of the Wahcondah and
his own arm; but should the Siouxes attack him in numbers, he was to
be sustained, man for man, even to the extent of his whole force. These
generous orders were strictly obeyed; and though so many hearts in the
troop panted to share in the glory and danger of their partisan, not a
warrior was found, among them all, who did not know how to conceal his
impatience under the usual mask of Indian self-restraint. They watched
the issue with quick and jealous eyes, nor did a single exclamation of
surprise escape them, when they saw, as will soon be apparent, that the
experiment of their chief was as likely to conduce to peace as to war.

Mahtoree was not long in communicating his plans to his confidants, whom
he as quickly dismissed to join their fellows in the rear. The Teton
entered a short distance into the stream and halted. Here he raised his
hand several times, with the palm outwards, and made several of those
other signs, which are construed into a pledge of amicable intentions
among the inhabitants of those regions. Then, as if to confirm the
sincerity of his faith, he cast his fusee to the shore, and entered
deeper into the water, where he again came to a stand, in order to see
in what manner the Pawnee would receive his pledges of peace.

The crafty Sioux had not made his calculations on the noble and honest
nature of his more youthful rival in vain. Hard-Heart had continued
galloping across the sands, during the discharge of missiles and the
appearance of a general onset, with the same proud and confident mien,
as that with which he had first braved the danger. When he saw the
well-known person of the Teton partisan enter the river, he waved his
hand in triumph, and flourishing his lance, he raised the thrilling
war-cry of his people, as a challenge for him to come on. But when he
saw the signs of a truce, though deeply practised in the treachery of
savage combats, he disdained to show a less manly reliance on himself,
than that which his enemy had seen fit to exhibit. Riding to the
farthest extremity of the sands, he cast his own fusee from him, and
returned to the point whence he had started.

The two chiefs were now armed alike. Each had his spear, his bow, his
quiver, his little battle-axe, and his knife; and each had, also, a
shield of hides, which might serve as a means of defence against a
surprise from any of these weapons. The Sioux no longer hesitated,
but advanced deeper into the stream, and soon landed on a point of the
island which his courteous adversary had left free for that purpose. Had
one been there to watch the countenance of Mahtoree, as he crossed the
water that separated him from the most formidable and the most hated of
all his rivals, he might have fancied that he could trace the gleamings
of a secret joy, breaking through the cloud which deep cunning and
heartless treachery had drawn before his swarthy visage; and yet there
would have been moments, when he might have believed that the flashings
of the Teton's eye and the expansion of his nostrils, had their origin
in a nobler sentiment, and one more worthy of an Indian chief.

The Pawnee awaited the time of his enemy with calmness and dignity. The
Teton made a short run or two, to curb the impatience of his steed, and
to recover his seat after the effort of crossing, and then he rode into
the centre of the place, and invited the other, by a courteous gesture,
to approach. Hard-Heart drew nigh, until he found himself at a distance
equally suited to advance or to retreat, and, in his turn, he came to a
stand, keeping his glowing eye riveted on that of his enemy. A long
and grave pause succeeded this movement, during which these two
distinguished braves, who were now, for the first time, confronted, with
arms in their hands, sat regarding each other, like warriors who knew
how to value the merits of a gallant foe, however hated. But the mien of
Mahtoree was far less stern and warlike than that of the partisan of
the Loups. Throwing his shield over his shoulder, as if to invite the
confidence of the other, he made a gesture of salutation and was the
first to speak.

"Let the Pawnees go upon the hills," he said, "and look from the morning
to the evening sun, from the country of snows to the land of many
flowers, and they will see that the earth is very large. Why cannot the
Red-men find room on it for all their villages?"

"Has the Teton ever known a warrior of the Loups come to his towns to
beg a place for his lodge?" returned the young brave, with a look in
which pride and contempt were not attempted to be concealed, "when
the Pawnees hunt, do they send runners to ask Mahtoree if there are no
Siouxes on the prairies?"

"When there is hunger in the lodge of a warrior, he looks for the
buffaloe, which is given him for food," the Teton continued, struggling
to keep down the ire excited by the other's scorn. "The Wahcondah
has made more of them than he has made Indians. He has not said, This
buffaloe shall be for a Pawnee, and that for a Dahcotah; this beaver for
Konza, and that for an Omawhaw. No; he said, There are enough. I love
my red children, and I have given them great riches. The swiftest horse
shall not go from the village of the Tetons to the village of the Loups
in many suns. It is far from the towns of the Pawnees to the river of
the Osages. There is room for all that I love. Why then should a Red-man
strike his brother?"

Hard-Heart dropped one end of his lance to the earth, and having also
cast his shield across his shoulder, he sat leaning lightly on the
weapon, as he answered with a smile of no doubtful expression—

"Are the Tetons weary of the hunts, and of the warpath? Do they wish
to cook the venison, and not to kill it. Do they intend to let the hair
cover their heads, that their enemies shall not know where to find their
scalps? Go; a Pawnee warrior will never come among such Sioux squaws for
a wife!"

A frightful gleam of ferocity broke out of the restraint of the
Dahcotah's countenance, as he listened to this biting insult; but he was
quick in subduing the tell-tale feeling, in an expression much better
suited to his present purpose.

"This is the way a young chief should talk of war," he answered with
singular composure; "but Mahtoree has seen the misery of more winters
than his brother. When the nights have been long, and darkness has been
in his lodge, while the young men slept, he has thought of the hardships
of his people. He has said to himself, Teton, count the scalps in your
smoke. They are all red but two! Does the wolf destroy the wolf, or the
rattler strike his brother? You know they do not; therefore, Teton, are
you wrong to go on a path that leads to the village of a Red-skin, with
a tomahawk in your hand."

"The Sioux would rob the warrior of his fame? He would say to his
young men, Go, dig roots in the prairies, and find holes to bury your
tomahawks in; you are no longer braves!"

"If the tongue of Mahtoree ever says thus," returned the crafty chief,
with an appearance of strong indignation, "let his women cut it out, and
burn it with the offals of the buffaloe. No," he added, advancing a
few feet nigher to the immovable Hard-Heart, as if in the sincerity of
confidence; "the Red-man can never want an enemy: they are plentier than
the leaves on the trees, the birds in the heavens, or the buffaloes on
the prairies. Let my brother open his eyes wide: does he no where see an
enemy he would strike?"

"How long is it since the Teton counted the scalps of his warriors, that
were drying in the smoke of a Pawnee lodge? The hand that took them is
here, and ready to make eighteen, twenty."

"Now, let not the mind of my brother go on a crooked path. If a Red-skin
strikes a Red-skin for ever, who will be masters of the prairies, when
no warriors are left to say, 'They are mine?' Hear the voices of the old
men. They tell us that in their days many Indians have come out of the
woods under the rising sun, and that they have filled the prairies with
their complaints of the robberies of the Long-knives. Where a Pale-face
comes, a Red-man cannot stay. The land is too small. They are always
hungry. See, they are here already!"

As the Teton spoke, he pointed towards the tents of Ishmael, which were
in plain sight, and then he paused, to await the effect of his words on
the mind of his ingenuous foe. Hard-Heart listened like one in whom a
train of novel ideas had been excited by the reasoning of the other. He
mused for a minute before he demanded—

"What do the wise chiefs of the Sioux say must be done?"

"They think that the moccasin of every Pale-face should be followed,
like the track of the bear. That the Long-knife, who comes upon the
prairie, should never go back. That the path shall be open to those who
come, and shut to those who go. Yonder are many. They have horses and
guns. They are rich, but we are poor. Will the Pawnees meet the Tetons
in council? and when the sun is gone behind the Rocky Mountains, they
will say, This is for a Loup and this for a Sioux."

"Teton—no! Hard-Heart has never struck the stranger. They come into
his lodge and eat, and they go out in safety. A mighty chief is their
friend! When my people call the young men to go on the war-path, the
moccasin of Hard-Heart is the last. But his village is no sooner hid by
the trees, than it is the first. No, Teton; his arm will never be lifted
against the stranger."