The Boy Hunters by Mayne Reid (golden son ebook .TXT) 📗

a short distance off, the Indians reached a spot where their own horses were tied. Here they halted for a moment—until each had got into his saddle—and then the whole party, prisoners and all, set off at a brisk trot over the prairie.

In about an hour they arrived at a large encampment upon the bank of a broad shallow river. There were nearly an hundred lodges standing upon the plain; and the ground was littered with buffalo-horns and hides, while vast quantities of the flesh of these animals were hanging from poles in front of every lodge. There were fires, and camp-kettles, and dogs, and Indian ponies, and women, and children—all mixed up together, or moving to and fro among the tents.

In front of the encampment, and near the bank of the stream, the prisoners were thrown upon the ground. Their captors left them; but they were at once surrounded by a crowd of yelling squaws and children. These at first regarded them only with curiosity; but as soon as they heard that one of the Indians had been wounded, they uttered the most hideous and piercing cries, and approached their captives with threatening looks and gestures. They commenced their cowardly torture by pulling the ears and hair of the boys, and sticking arrow-points into their arms and shoulders; and then, by way of having a little fun, several of the squaws seized hold of, and dragged the three prisoners out into the middle of the stream. Here they ducked them, keeping their heads for a long time under water, all the while yelling and laughing like so many demons. The poor captives for a while believed that these women were about to drown them, and, tied as they were, they could make no effort to save themselves. This, however, was not the intention of the squaws; they were only disposed to have as much fun out of them as possible. After they had got tired of this amusement, they dragged the boys back again to the bank, and flung them dripping upon the grass.

But what was Basil doing all this time? Did he not possess a charm about him, that would have put an end to all this torturing treatment, and have made the Indians friends instead of such cruel enemies? Ah! poor Basil! he had suffered worse than any of the three. I shall tell you how it was with him.

At their capture Basil had been stunned by the blow of a tomahawk. He had been knocked quite senseless; and although he recovered himself so far as to be able to ride to the Indian camp, it was not until after the ducking he received in the cold river that he fairly came to himself. As soon as he did so, he bethought himself of that which he carried under the breast of his hunting-shirt. In fact, his brothers had been reminding him of it every moment, anxiously entreating him to make use of a secret of which neither of them fully understood the nature. But, up to this time, Basil, bewildered by the blow, was scarcely conscious of what he did. He had now recovered himself, and was making every effort to get at the string, and draw the embroidered pouch from his breast; but his hands were tied behind him, and he could not use them! He essayed to reach it with his mouth, but all his efforts were in vain. He then turned towards his brothers, so that they might stretch forward and draw out the string with their teeth. They were no longer near him! The squaws had dragged them to some distance off; and, like himself, their ankles were tied together, and they could not move from the spot where they had been placed.

Basil saw all this with a feeling of consternation; for, judging from the cruel treatment to which they had been submitted, and from the excited and exasperated manner of the Indians, he began to fear the worst, and to doubt whether the charm he carried might, after all, avail them. He used every effort to give it a trial. Failing to reach it, he made signs to the squaws around him, nodding with his head, and casting his eyes downward towards his breast. These, however, did not understand his meaning; and only laughed at what appeared to them a somewhat comic pantomime.

During the continuance of this scene, the Indian men stood apart, conversing together, and evidently deliberating what they should do with their prisoners. The manner of some of them was angry and excited. They talked loudly, and gesticulated with violence, occasionally pointing to a spot of level ground in front of the camp. The captives could see that among these loud talkers was the man whom Basil had wounded, as he carried his arm in a bandage. He was an ill-favoured, ferocious-looking savage; and the boys, although they knew not a word that was uttered, could tell by his manner that he was speaking against them. To their consternation, they at length saw that he and his party had carried their point, and all the others appeared to acquiesce. What could their decision have been? Were they going to murder them? Agonised with these terrible apprehensions, the boys watched every action of the Indians with the keenest solicitude.

All at once each one of the savages was seen to arm himself with a bow; while two of their number, carrying a large stake, proceeded out into the open ground, and planted it firmly in the earth. O God! the horrid truth now became clear. It was their intention to tie their prisoners to the stake, and use them as a target for their arrows! The boys had heard that this was a common custom among Indians with their captives; and each of them uttered a cry of terror, as they recognised the fearful preparations.

They had but little time to shout to each other; and what they said was drowned by the yells of the squaws and children, who leaped and danced over the ground, evidently delighted with the prospect of the horrid spectacle they were about to witness.

Fortunately Basil was selected as the first victim. His superior size and age, no doubt, obtained him that preference. He was rudely seized by a pair of Indians and dragged up to the stake, where the savages commenced stripping him—by way of making a better mark of his naked body!

As soon as they had loosened his arms and pulled off his hunting-shirt, the embroidered pouch attracted their attention. One of them seized it, and drew forth its contents—which proved to be a pipe-head of the red clay-stone—the celebrated steatite. As soon as the savage set his eyes upon it, he uttered a strange exclamation, and handed it to his companion. The latter took it into his hands, uttered a similar ejaculation, and carrying it with him, ran back to the crowd. These, as soon as it reached them, could be seen passing it from hand to hand, each examining it minutely, and making some remark; but one Indian, more than the rest, seemed to be excited upon beholding it; and this one, after he had gazed upon it for a moment, ran hurriedly towards Basil, followed by all the others!

This was the opportunity which Basil wished for; and as the Indian stood in front of him, and pointed to the pipe, as if waiting for an explanation, the boy, his hands being now free, deliberately and with coolness made several signs which had been taught him by his father. These signs were at once understood by the Indian, who sprang forward, pulled off the cords that bound Basil’s ankles, raised him to his feet, embracing him as he did so with friendly exclamations! All the other Indians now pressed forward, and grasped him by the hand, while some ran to Lucien and François, who, in a few moments, were likewise set free!

All three were now carried to one of the tents; dry clothes were put upon them, and as soon as it could be got ready, a feast was set before them: so that their captors, who but the moment before were about to put them one by one to a most cruel death, now seemed to strive with each other which should honour them the most! The Indian, however, who had shown so much interest at seeing the mysterious pipe-head, was allowed to take precedence in waiting upon them; and it was into his tent that our adventurers had been carried.

You will by this time wonder what there could be in a simple pipe-head, to have caused all this sudden and mysterious effect. I will tell you in as few words as possible.

You have no doubt heard of the celebrated Shawano chief Tecumseh—perhaps the greatest Indian warrior that ever lived, as well as the most remarkable of Indian statesmen. You may have heard, too, that during the last war between England and the United States, Tecumseh, taking advantage of the difference between these nations, endeavoured to excite the Indians to a general rising, for the purpose of driving all white men from the soil of America. Tecumseh had a brother, Elswatawa, better known by the name of “the Prophet.” This brother was to the full as enthusiastic as the chief himself in the wish to carry out their great design; and for this purpose he undertook a crusade to every tribe of Indians in the western parts of America. He was a man of great talents and eloquence, and was received with friendship wherever he went. The cause which he advocated was dear to all Indians; and of course he was listened to, and smoked the calumet with the men of every tribe. Now this very calumet, which had been used by the Prophet throughout all his wanderings, was the identical one which Basil carried, and which, by its strange carvings and hieroglyphics, was at once recognised by these Indians, who were of the Osage tribe,—one of those which the Prophet had visited.

But you will ask, how this calumet came into the possession of Basil’s father, and why its possession insured such mysterious protection to our adventurers. That I can also explain. Tecumseh was killed in the war with the Americans; but the Prophet lived for many years afterwards. Shortly after having emigrated to America, during one of his excursions near Saint Louis, the Colonel—the father of our boy hunters—met with this strange Indian; and, through some circumstances which happened, the Frenchman and he became fast friends. Presents were exchanged between them, and that which was received by the latter was the red calumet. The Prophet, on giving it, told the Colonel, that if ever he should have occasion to wander among the Indian tribes, it might prove useful to him; and at the same time initiated him into certain signs which he was to make use of in such time of need. In these signs the Colonel had instructed Basil, and we have already witnessed their effect. The Indian who had best understood them, and in whom they had produced the strongest emotions, happened to be a Shawano himself—one of that very tribe to which both the Prophet and Tecumseh belonged; and which is now but a remnant—most of its warlike sons being either dead, or scattered among the nomad bands that roam over the great western prairies. Such, then, was the history of the red calumet, which had proved the protector of our adventurous hunters.

In a short time they were enabled to communicate with the Indians by signs; for no people can understand such language better than Indians. The boys informed the Shawano who they were, and for what purpose they had ventured upon the prairies. On learning the nature of their expedition, the Indians were filled with astonishment as well as admiration for the courage of these young hunters. They told the latter, in return, that they themselves were