The Story of Red Feather: A Tale of the American Frontier by Edward Sylvester Ellis (ereader with android .TXT) 📗

Leaning against the side of the window, Red Feather strained his hearing to catch some words that would give him an inkling of what it all meant.

The heart of the youth throbbed with the hope that the long-expected help was in sight at last. It seemed to him the Sioux were acting just as they would do in case they detected the approach of hostile horsemen.

But the sorely-tried lad could only wait until Red Feather should answer the question on his tongue, or until it should be answered by the events themselves.

YOU will recall that when Red Feather wedged himself in the narrow window he said, in answer to the sharp questioning of Melville Clarendon, that the Muddy Creek band of Sioux were so far off that nothing was to be feared from them.

The original band of marauders numbered over a score, and were under the joint leadership of Tall Bear and Red Feather, both of whom were eager to sweep along the thin line of settlements like a cyclone, scattering death and destruction in their path. It may strike you that so small a force was hardly equal to the task of such a raid; but I have only to remind you that the famous Geronimo and his Apaches, who made their home among the alkali deserts and mountain fastnesses of Arizona and New Mexico, numbered few warriors at times, and yet they baffled for years a regiment of United States cavalry. It was only when the chieftain chose to come in and surrender himself under the pledge of good treatment that hostilities ended.

The twenty-odd horsemen under the leadership of Red Feather and Tall Bear were fitting types of that savage horde which in the early summer of 1876 blotted out General Custer and his troops. It so happened, however, with the smaller party that they found no such favoring circumstances to help them. At the first settler's cabin assailed they discovered the inmates ready for them. In some way or other, several families had learned of their danger in time to prepare for their assailants.

[81]It was clear to the Indians that the settlers in that section had taken the alarm, and Red Feather proposed they should abandon their first plan and push northward towards Barwell, attacking the isolated homes to the south of that settlement. Tall Bear opposed so warmly, and with such slurs on his rival, that a personal conflict was narrowly averted.

The end of the quarrel was that Red Feather, with five of his followers, drew off from the rest and rode northward. The result of this separation was unsatisfactory to both parties.

The friendly Indian who had hastened toward Barwell to warn the pioneers of their danger did his work so well that hardly one was neglected. The inmates of the first cabin attacked by Red Feather were awaiting him. Only a few shots were exchanged, when the wrathful chieftain withdrew, and, pushing to the northward, next swooped down on the dwelling of Archibald Clarendon.

No resistance was encountered there, for, as you know, the inmates had left some time before. For some reason never fully explained, Red Feather did not fire the buildings at once. Shortly after, Melville Clarendon and his sister appeared on the scene, and the incidents which followed have already been told.

Meanwhile, Tall Bear and his warriors met with no better success than the smaller party. The proof became so strong that the whole district was on the alert that he abruptly changed his mind and led his warriors at a sweeping gallop to the northward over the trail of Red Feather and his warriors.

When he arrived on the scene he heard the curious story the five warriors had to tell. A dwelling at last had been found in which the occupants were not fully prepared, or rather, were so insignificant [82]in strength that no company of Sioux, however small, could consent to a repulse.

But there stood the cabin defying them. Red Feather had forced his way partly through the window and then was caught so fast that, but for the mercy of the sturdy youth within, he would have been killed without being able to use a finger to defend himself.

Among the whole party who heard the remarkable narrative, there was not one who would have thought of keeping a promise made under such circumstances as was that of the chief. No pledge could have been more solemn, and yet those are the very ones that are first repudiated by the red man.

To Tall Bear and his band the action of Red Feather in descending the chimney was natural. The bitterest enemy of the chieftain never questioned his courage, and, knowing how chagrined he must feel over his mishap, they could understand the desperate feeling that prompted the deed, the like of which was seldom if ever known before.

There was little said about Red Feather's wish to keep his agreement with Melville, for the reason I have already hinted—his proposal to do so was not earnest enough to mislead them.

But to the Sioux outside it looked very much as if the descent of the chimney by the chief had marked the end of his career. Among all the warriors there was not one who believed the truth—that he had been changed from the fiercest enemy into the most beloved friend of the boy and girl.

The tantalizing shout of Melville from the window was proof to the warriors that Red Feather had been slain by the boy, though, as I have said, no report of a gun was heard from within the building.

[83]The chieftain's course, after proving himself a friend of the brother and sister, showed his desire to keep his presence in the house unsuspected by his own people. He took care that no glimpse of him was caught through the windows, and he refrained from firing when he had any number of chances to bring down an Indian.

Doubtless there were several reasons for this forbearance. Such a shot would be credited to Melville, and might excite the Sioux to an attack too furious to be resisted. At the same time, it is hardly to be supposed that Red Feather's feelings had so changed, because of his wish to save Dot and her brother, that he was ready to turn about and begin shooting at the very ones whom he had led on this raid.

It cannot be said that Tall Bear grieved any more over the loss of his rival leader than did most of the warriors. He prudently uttered some words of sympathy, but they hardly deceived those who heard them. They agreed with him, however, in declaring that his fall must be avenged, and that the boy who had caused his death, as well as his little sister, must suffer torture-punishment for the deed.

Several circuits around the building proved that it could hardly be carried by the most determined assault in their power. All the windows were too narrow to be used as a means of entrance, even if any one was brave enough to repeat the disastrous experiment of the other chief. The single door had already resisted the strongest shock they could give it, and no weak point was visible.

True, the path used by Red Feather when he finally succeeded in gaining the interior was open to the rest; but it is no reflection on their courage to say that among the whole party there was not one [84]willing to head the procession down the chimney, even though but a solitary boy and a single rifle stood in the way.

Clearly there was one means at the command of Tall Bear and his Sioux which was not only terrible, but effective. They could set fire to the building and reduce it to ashes.

The lookout on the hill reported the horizon clear in every direction; and, since his wide sweep of vision extended toward every point of the compass, he was able to discover the approach of hostile horsemen a good while before they could reach the spot. He knew that if help came it would be from the northward, where Barwell lay, whither Mr. Clarendon and his wife had hurried on the first alarm. The prairie for a couple of miles was under a scrutiny that would let nothing escape.

The circumstances were so favorable that Tall Bear and his party decided to indulge in a feast. Enough poultry were wandering about the premises to afford a fine meal for a larger band than he had with him, and it took only a short time to wring the necks of more than a score of ducks and chickens.

The Sioux gathered to the westward of the barn and ate like so many wild animals until all were satisfied. The meal finished, they gave their attention to the serious business before them. Had the incidents I am relating taken place half a century ago, the red men would have been obliged to resort to the old-fashioned flint and steel with which our forefathers used to start a fire; but they were abreast of these modern times to that extent that nearly every one carried more or less lucifer-matches.

The favoring wind led to the barn being fired, under the belief that the flames would quickly communicate with the house but a short [85]distance off; but, as you have learned, Providence favored the threatened ones to that extent that the breeze changed its course, and for a time Dot and Melville were saved.