for a week hamilton and i had been busy in our respective lodges getting peltries and personal belongings into shape for return to red river. on saturday night, at least i counted it saturday from the notches on my doorpost, though eric, grown morose and contradictory, maintained that it was sunday—we sat talking before the fire of my lodge. a dreary raindrip pattered through the leaky roof and the soaked parchment tacked across the window opening flapped monotonously against the pine logs.
unfastening the moon-shaped medallion, which my uncle had given me, i slowly spelled out the nor'-westers' motto—"fortitude in distress."
"for-ti-tude in dis-tress," i repeated idly. "by jove, hamilton, we need it, don't we?"
eric's lips curled in scorn. without answering, he impatiently kicked a fallen brand back to the live coals. i know old saws are poor comfort to people in distress, being chiefly applicable when they are not needed.
"what in the world can be keeping father holland?" i asked, leading off on another tack.[pg 235] "here we are almost into the summer, and never a sight of him."
"did you really expect him back alive from the bloods?" sneered hamilton. he had unconsciously acquired a habit of expecting the worst.
"certainly," i returned. "he's been among them before."
"then all i have to say is, you're a fool!"
poor eric! he had informed me i was a fool so often in his ravings i had grown quite used to the insult. he glared savagely at the fire, and if i had not understood this bitterness towards the missionary, the next remark was of a nature to enlighten me.
"i don't see why any man in his senses wants to save the soul of an indian," he broke out. "let them go where they belong! souls! they haven't any souls, or if they have, it's the soul of a fiend——"
"by the bye, eric," i interrupted, for this petulant ill-humor, that saw naught but evil in everything, was becoming too frequent and always ended in the same way—a night of semi-delirium, "by the bye, did you see those fellows turning up soil for corn with a buffalo shoulder-blade as a hoe?"
"i wish every damn red a thousand feet under the soil, deeper than that, if the temperature increases."
it was impossible to talk to hamilton without provoking a quarrel. leaning back with hands clasped behind my head, i watched through[pg 236] half-closed eyes his sad face darkling under stormy moods.
at last the rain succeeded in soaking through the parchment across the window and the wind drove through a great split in chilling gusts that added to the cabin's discomfort. i got up and jammed an old hat into the hole. at the window i heard the shouting of indians having a hilarious night among the lodges and was amazed at the sound of discharging firearms above the huzzas, for ammunition was scarce among the mandanes. the hubbub seemed to be coming towards our hut. i could see nothing through the window slit, and lighting a pine fagot, shot back the latch-bolt and threw open the door. a multitude of tawny, joyous, upturned faces thronged to the steps. the crowd was surging about some newcomer, and chief black cat was prancing around in an ecstasy of delight, firing away all his gunpowder in joyous demonstration. i lifted my torch. the indians fell back and forth strode father holland, his face shining wet and abeam with pleasure. the indians had been welcoming "their good white father." as he dismissed his mandane children we drew him in and placed his soaked over-garments before the fire. then we proffered him all the delicacies of bachelors' quarters, and filled and refilled his bowl with soup, and did not stop pouring out our lye-black tea till he had drained the dregs of it.
having satisfied his inner-man, we gave him the best stump-tree seat in the cabin and sat back to[pg 237] listen. there was the awkward pause of reunion, when friends have not had time to gather up the loose threads of a parted past and weave them anew into stronger bands of comradeship. hamilton and the priest were strangers; but if the latter were as overcome by the meeting after half a year's isolation as i was, the silence was not surprising. to me it seemed the genial face was unusually grave, and i noticed a long, horizontal scar across his forehead.
"what's that, father?" i asked, indicating the mark on his brow.
"tush, youngster! nothing! nothing at all! sampled scalping-knife on me; thought better of it, kept me out of the martyr's crown."
"and left you your own!" cried hamilton astonished at the priest's careless stoicism.
"left me my own," responded father holland.
"do you mean to say the murderous——" i began.
"tush, youngster! be quiet!" said he. "haven't many brethren come from the same tribe more like warped branches than men? what am i, that i should escape? never speak of it again," and he continued his silent study of the flames' play.
"where are your indians?" he asked abruptly.
"in the lodges. shall i whistle for them?"
he did not answer, but leaned forward with elbows on his knees, rubbing his chin vigorously first with one hand, then the other, still studying the fire.[pg 238]
"how strong are the mandanes?" he asked.
"weak, weak," i answered. "few hundred. it hasn't been worth while for traders to come here for years."
"was it worth while this year?"
"not for trade."
"for anything else?" and he looked at eric's dejected face.
"nothing else," i put in hastily, fearing one of hamilton's outbreaks. "we've been completely off the track, might better have stayed in the north——"
"no, you mightn't, not by any means," was his sharp retort. "i've been in the sioux lodges for three weeks."
with an inarticulate cry, hamilton sprang to his feet. he was trembling from head to foot and caught father holland roughly by the shoulder.
"speak out, sir! what of miriam?" he demanded in dry, hard, rasping tones.
"well, well, safe and inviolate. so's the boy, a big boy now! may ye have them both in y'r arms soon—soon—soon!" and again he fell to studying the fire with an unhurried deliberation, that was torture to hamilton.
"are they with you? are they with you?" shouted hamilton, hope bounding up elastically to the wildest heights after his long depression. "don't keep me in suspense! i cannot bear it. tell me where they are," he pleaded. "are they with you?" and his eyes burned into the priest's like live coals. "are—they—with—you?"[pg 239]
"no—lord—no!" roared father holland, alarmed at hamilton's violent condition. "but," he added, seeing eric reel dizzily, "but they're all right! now you keep quiet and don't scare the wits out of a body! they're all right, i tell you, and i've come straight from them for the ransom price."
"get it, rufus, get it!" shouted hamilton to me, throwing his hands distractedly to his head, a habit too common with him of late. "get it! get it!" he kept calling, utterly beside himself.
"sit down, will you?" thundered the priest, as if eric's sitting down would calm all agitation. "sit down! behave! keep quiet, both of you, or my tongue'll forget holy orders and give ye some good irish eloquence! what d' y' mane, scarin' the breath out of a body and blowing his ideas to limbo? keep quiet, now, and listen!"
"and did they," i cried, in spite of the injunction, "did they do that to you?" pointing to the scar on his brow.
"yes, they did."
"because they saw you with me?"
"no, that's a brand for the faith, you conceited whelp, you—they stopped their tortures because they saw you with me. now, swell out, rufus, and gloat over your importance! i tell you it was the devil, himself, snatched my martyr's crown."
"le grand diable?"
"le grand diable's own minion. i saw his devilish eyes leering from the back o' the crowd, when[pg 240] i was tied to a stake. 'bring that indian to me,' sez i, transfixing him with my gaze; for—you understand—i couldn't point, my hands being tied. troth! but ye should 'a' seen their looks of amazement at me boldness! there was i, roped to that tree, like a pig for the boiling pot, and sez i, 'bring—that indian—to me!' just as though i was managing the execution," and the priest paused to enjoy the recollection of the effects of his boldness.
"a squaw up with an old clout," he continued, "and slashed it across my face, saying, 'take that, pale face! take that, man with a woman's skirts on!' and 'take that!' howled a young buck, fetching the flat of his dagger across me forehead, close-cropped hair giving no grip for scalping, not to mention a pate as bald as mine," and the priest roared at his own joke, patting his bare crown affectionately.
"though the blood was boilin' in me enraged veins and dribblin' down my face like the rain to-night, by the help o' the lord, i felt no pain. never flinchin' nor takin' heed o' that bold baste of a squaw, i bawled like a bull of bashan, 'bring—that indian—to me, coward-hearted sioux—d' y' fear an iroquois? bring him to me and i'll make him enrich your tribe!'
"faith! their eyes grew big as a harvest moon and they brought le grand diable to me. knowing his covetous heart, i told him if he still had the woman and the child, i'd get him a big ransom. at that they all jangled a bit, the old squaw[pg 241] clouting me with her filthy rag as if she wanted to slap me to a peak. at length they let le grand diable unfasten the bands. with my hands tied behind my back, i was taken to his lodge. miriam and the boy were kept in a place behind the sioux squaw's hut. once when the skin tied between blew up, i caught a glimpse of her poor white face. the boy was playing round her feet. i was in a corner of the lodge but was so grimed with grease and dirt, if she saw me she thought i was some indian captive and turned away her head. i told le grand diable in habitant french—which the rascal understands—that i could obtain a good ransom for his prisoners. he left me alone in the lodge for some hours, i think to spy upon me and learn if i tried to speak to miriam; but i lay still as a log and pretended to sleep. when he came back, he began bartering for the price; but i could make him no promises as to the amount or time of payment, for i was not sure you were here, and would not have him know where you are.
"he kept me hanging on for his answer during the whole week, and many a time miriam brushed past so close her skirts touched me; but that she-male devil of his—may the lord give them both a warm, front seat!—was always watching and i could not speak. miriam's face was hidden under her shawl and she looked neither to the right, nor to the left. i don't think she ever saw me. on condition you stay in your camp and don't go to meet her, but send your two indians alone for her[pg 242] with your offer, he let me go. here i am! now, rufus, where are your men? off with them bearing more gifts than the queen of sheba carried to solomon!"
from the hour that la robe noire and little fellow, laden with gaudy trinkets and hunting outfits, departed for the sioux lodges, hamilton was positively a madman. in the first place, he had been determined to disguise himself as an indian and go instead of la robe noire, whose figure he resembled. to this, we would not listen. le grand diable was not the man to be tricked and there was no sense in ransoming miriam for a captive husband. then, he persisted in riding part of the way with our messengers, which necessitated my doing likewise. i had to snatch his horse's bridle, wheel both our horses round and head homeward at a gallop, before he would listen to reason and come back.
round the lodges he was a ramping tiger. twenty times a day he went from our hut to the height of land commanding the north country, keeping me on the run at his heels; and all night he beat around the cramped shack as if it had been a cage. on the fourth day from the messengers' departure, chains could not bind him. if all went well, they should be with us at night. in defiance of le grand diable's conditions, which an arrow from an unseen marksman might enforce, eric saddled his mare and rode out to meet the men.[pg 243]
of course father holland and i peltered after him; but it was only because gathering darkness prevented travel that we prevailed on him to dismount and await the indians' coming at the edge of the village.
at last came the clank, clank of shod hoofs in the valley. the natives used only unshod animals, so we recognized our men. hamilton darted away like a hare racing for cover.
"the lord have mercy upon us!" groaned father holland. "listen, lad! there's only one horse!"
i threw myself to the earth and laying my ear to the turf strained for every sound. the thud, thud of a single horse, fore and hind feet striking the beaten trail in quick gallop, came distinctly up from the valley.
"it may not be our men," said i, with sickening forebodings tugging at throat and heart.
"i mistrusted them! i mistrusted the villains!" repeated the priest. "if only you had enough mandanes to ride down on them, but you're too weak. there are at least two thousand sioux."
hamilton and little fellow, talking loudly and gesticulating, rode crashing through the furze.
"i knew it! i knew it!" shouted hamilton fiercely, "one of us should have gone."
"what's wrong?" came from father holland in a voice so low and unnaturally calm, i knew he feared the worst.
"wrong!" yelled hamilton, "they hold la[pg 244] robe noire as hostage and demand five hundred pounds of ammunition, twenty guns and ten horses. of course, i should have gone——"
"and would it have mended matters if you'd been held hostage too?" i demanded, utterly out of patience and at that stage when a little strain makes a man strike his best friends. "you know very well, the men were only sent to make an offer. you'd no right to expect everything on one trip without any bargaining——"
"shut up, boy!" exclaimed father holland. "just when ye both need all y'r wits, y'r scattering them to the four winds. now, mind yourselves! i don't like these terms! 'tis the devil's own doing! let's talk this over!"
with a vast deal of the wordy eloquence that characterizes indian diplomacy, the tenor of le grand diable's message was "his shot pouch was light and his pipe cold; he hung down his head and the pipe of peace had not been in the council; the sioux were strangers and the whites were their enemies; the pale-faces had been in their power and they had always conveyed them on their journey with glad hearts and something to eat." finally, the master of life, likewise earth, air, water, and fire were called on to witness that if the white men delivered five hundred rounds of ammunition, twenty guns and ten horses, the white woman and her child, likewise the two messengers, would be sent safely back to the mandane lodge; none but these two messengers would be permitted in the sioux camp; also,[pg 245] the sioux would not answer for the lives of the white men if they left the mandane lodges. let the white men, therefore, send back the full ransom by the hands of the same messenger.