The Story of Red Feather, Edward Sylvester Ellis [ereader that reads to you txt] 📗

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.

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 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 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.

Tall Bear and the Sioux waited till, to their disappointment and surprise, they saw the barn sink into blazing ruins and leave the house intact.

The next proceeding was to gather what embers they could and pile them against the dwelling, where they speedily burst into flames. It now looked certain that the structure was doomed; but the heavy logs, although dry on the outside, were damp within. It takes such timber a long time to part with its natural moisture, and, fortunately for our friends, a driving rain-storm less than a week previous had so soaked the wood that only an intense and long-continued heat could set it aflame. The logs were charred and scorched, and more than once appeared to be on the point of breaking into a roaring blaze; but the brands piled against the end of the house finally sank down to embers and ashes, and though considerable smoke arose, the house stood really as firm and as strong as at the first.

This was a keener disappointment than Tall Bear had yet met, for it looked as though the most potent if not the only means at his command was powerless to bring the boy to terms.

The chieftain himself examined the logs which had been subjected to the fire. He dug his hunting-knife into them, and soon discovered why they resisted the fire so effectually. Then he tested other parts of the house in the same manner and with the same result.

For the first time since his arrival on the spot he was forced to see the probability of another failure. His career from the hour he bounded upon his pony and entered so eagerly on the raid had been a continual disappointment. He was angered and resentful toward the supposed dead Red Feather, because he allowed himself to be baffled at the beginning by a solitary boy.

Tall Bear's pride was stirred, and he was unwilling to confess himself beaten after openly blaming his predecessor for failing to capture the place with less than one-third of his force.

But there seemed to be no help for it, unless he should persevere with the fire until the logs of the house were forced into combustion. They must yield in time, if the effort was kept up; and he was on the point of renewing the attempt on a larger scale than before when his attention was drawn to the sentinel on the hill, who uttered the startling cry that horsemen were in sight to the northward.

The chief and the warriors who were not already on the spot hurried thither to learn what it meant.

As I have explained elsewhere, this discovery did not take place until near nightfall, when darkness was beginning to render surrounding objects indistinct. The long delay in the arrival of help for the children of the pioneer led Tall Bear to believe it was not likely to come before morning; but once more it looked as if Providence was about to interfere to bring his wicked schemes to naught.

The gloom overspreading stream and prairie prevented the Sioux from seeing the horsemen clearly enough to identify them. The forms were so shadowy and vague that nothing more could be learned than that there were about a dozen men mounted on horses, and riding toward the cabin on a slow walk, as if not without some misgiving.

It was certain that while the sentinel on the hill commanded an unusually wide sweep of vision, he himself was conspicuous, and the others had been as quick to discover him as he was to detect them. Both parties, therefore, were aware of the presence of the other, and neither was likely to make a mistake at this critical juncture.

But neither Tall Bear nor any of his warriors could tell of a surety whether the approaching horsemen were white or red men. The Sioux grouped around the house were not the only ones by any means that were engaged on this memorable raid in Southern Minnesota, and it was not impossible that a party of friends were in sight.

It was somewhat curious that the majority of the Sioux believed a party of their own people at hand. Tall Bear himself was inclined to think the same; but to guard against any fatal mistake, he directed his warriors to ride down the hill on the east, so as to interpose between them and the strangers, who could now be barely distinguished.

Two other Sioux were to wait until the horsemen came near enough to settle the question, when they would make it known by signal, after which the course of the band would be open. If the new-comers proved to be enemies, a sharp fight was likely to follow, in which serious damage was certain to be inflicted on both sides.

The directions of the leader were promptly followed, the warriors galloping off and quickly disappearing in the direction of the upper trail, along which Melville and Dot had ridden on their way from the settlement.

While they were thus engaged, Tall Bear cantered to the front of the cabin and leaped to the ground. He had determined to attempt a trick.

Striking his fist against the door, he called out--

"More Sioux comin'--open door quick--Tall Bear won't hurt--don't wait."

He hoped the actions of himself and warriors had made known the former fact before he announced it in words. He counted upon a panic that would show the lad his situation was hopeless, and induce him to surrender while there was hope of mercy.

There was no reply to his summons, and he raised his fist to strike the door again, when he discovered the latch-string on the outside. With no suspicion of what it meant, he gave it a twitch.

To his amazement, the door swung inward of its own weight, and, before he could check himself, he had to take a step within to escape falling.

With a vague suspicion of the truth, he called to the lad again, and groped about the lower room.

He quickly discovered that it was empty, and then, with little personal fear, he hurried up the stairs.

Two minutes were enough to make clear the truth.

He was the only living person in the cabin!


CHAPTER NINE

NAT TRUMBULL AND HIS MEN--OUT IN THE NIGHT

The American Indian rarely shows any emotion that may be stirring his heart. I am sure, however, that if one could have had a look at the face of Tall Bear when