Gustave Aimard
The Prairie Flower: A Tale of the Indian Border

CHAPTER XXVI
RED WOLF

To understand the facts we are now about to narrate, we must retrace our steps a short distance, and return to the tent which served as a temporary abode to the Count and Bright-eye.

The two white men were somewhat discontented by the way in which the interview had terminated. Still the Count was too thorough a gentleman not to allow, honourably, that on this occasion the Chief had been the victor in magnanimity. As for Bright-eye, however, he could not see so far. Furious at the check he had sustained, and especially at the slight value the Chief appeared to set on his capture, he revolved the most terrible schemes of vengeance while biting his nails savagely.

The Count amused himself for a few minutes in watching his comrade's manoeuvres, as he walked up and down the tent, growling, clenching his fists, dashing the butt of his rifle on the ground, and looking up to heaven with comic despair. At last the young man could stand it no longer, but burst into a hearty laugh. The hunter stopped in amazement, and looked around the tent, to discover the cause for such untimely gaiety.

"What has happened, Mr. Edward?" he at length asked, "Why do you laugh so?"

Naturally this question, asked with a startled air, had no other result than to augment the Count's hilarity.

"My good fellow," he said, "I am laughing at the singular faces you cut, and the strange manoeuvres you have been indulging in during the last twenty minutes."

"Oh, Mr. Edward!" Bright-eye said, reproachfully; "how can you jest so?"

"Why, my boy, you seem to take the affair seriously to heart, and to have lost that magnificent confidence which made you despise all dangers."

"No, no, Mr. Edward! you are mistaken. My opinion has been formed a long time. Look you, I am certain these red devils will never succeed in killing me; but I am furious at having been so thoroughly duped by them. It is humiliating, and I am now racking my brains to discover a way to play them a trick."

"Do so, my friend, and I would help you, were it possible; but, for the present, at least, I am forced to remain neutral – my hands are tied."

"What?" Bright-eye said, with astonishment; "you mean to remain here, and serve their diabolical jugglery?"

"I must, my good fellow; have I not pledged my word?"

"You certainly pledged it, and I do not know why. Still, a pledge given to an Indian counts for nothing. The Redskins are tribes who understand nothing about honour; and, in a similar case, I am certain that Natah Otann would consider himself in no way bound to you."

"That is possible, although I am not of your opinion. The Chief is no ordinary man. He is gifted with a great intellect."

"What good is it to him? None. Except to be more cunning and treacherous than his countrymen. Take my advice, and do not stand on any ceremony with him. Take French leave, as they say in the South, and leave them in the lurch. The Redskins will be the first to applaud your conduct."

"My good fellow," the Count said, seriously, "it is useless to discuss the point; when a gentleman has once given his word, he is a slave to it, no matter the person to whom he has given it, or the colour of his skin."

"Very good, then, Mr. Edward, pray act as you think proper. I have no right to thrust my advice on you. You are a better judge than myself of how you are bound to act. So, be easy. I will not mention it again."

"Thank you."

"All that is very good, but what are we going to do now?"

"What we are going to do? I suppose you mean what are you going to do?"

"No, Mr. Edward, I said exactly what I meant; you understand that I am not going to leave you alone in this nest of serpents, I hope!"

"On the contrary, you will do so directly."

"I?" the hunter said, with a loud laugh.

"Yes, you, my friend; you must."

"Bah! why so, pray, if you remain?"

"That is the very reason."

The hunter reflected for a moment.

"You know that I do not understand you at all," he said.

"Yet it is very clear," the Count answered.

"Hum! that is possible, but not to me."

"What, you do not understand that we must avenge ourselves?"

"Oh, of course, I understand that, Mr. Edward."

"How can we hope to succeed, if you insist on remaining here?"

"Because you remain," the hunter said, obstinately.

"With me it is very different, my good fellow. I remain, because I have given my word; while you are free to go and come, and must therefore profit by it to leave the camp. Once in the prairie, nothing can be easier for you than to join some of our friends. It is evident that my worthy Ivon, coward as he fancies himself, is working actively at this moment for my deliverance; so see him, come to an understanding with him, for though it is true I cannot leave this place, I cannot, on the other hand, prevent my friends liberating me; if they succeed, my parole will be suspended, and nothing will hinder my following them. Do you understand me now?"

"Yes, Mr. Edward; but I confess that I cannot make up my mind to leave you alone, among these red devils."

"Do not trouble yourself about that, Bright-eye; I run no danger by remaining with them; they have too much respect for me; besides, Natah Otann well knows how to defend me, should it be needful. So, my friend, start at once. You will serve me better by going, than by insisting on remaining here, where your presence, in the event of danger, would be more injurious than useful to me."

"You are a better judge than I in such a matter, sir; as you insist on it, I will go," the hunter said, with a mournful shake of his head.

"Above all, be prudent, do not expose yourself to risk in quitting the camp."

The hunter smiled disdainfully.

"You know," he said, "that the Redskins cannot harm me."

"That is true; I forgot it," the young man said, laughingly; "so, good-bye, my friend, stay no longer, but go, and joy be with you."

"Good-bye, Mr. Edward; will you not give me a shake of the hand before we part, not knowing whether we shall ever meet again?"

"Most gladly, for are we not brothers?"

"That is famous," the hunter said, joyfully, as he pressed the Count's offered hand.

The two men presently separated. The Count fell back on the pile of furs that served as his bed, while the hunter, after assuring himself that his arms were in good condition, quitted the tent. With his rifle under his arm, and head erect, he crossed the camp. The Indians did not seem at all to trouble themselves at the hunter's presence among them, and allowed him to depart unimpeded.

Bright-eye, when he had gone about two musket shots from the camp, stopped, and began reflecting on what was best to be done to liberate the Count; after a few moments' reflection, his mind was made up, and he proceeded toward the squatter's settlement with that long trot peculiar to the hunters.

When he reached the clearing, the squatter was holding a conference with Ivon and the party sent by Major Melville. His arrival was greeted with a hurrah of delight.

The North Americans were considerably embarrassed. Mrs. Margaret, in spite of the exclusive details she had obtained about Natah Otann's plans, and the movements of the Indians, had only made an incomplete report to the Major, from the simple reason, that the old Sachems of the Allied Nations kept their deliberations so secret, that Red Wolf, despite all his cleverness and craft, had himself picked up but a slight part of the plan the Chiefs proposed to follow. The scouts, sent out in all directions, had brought in startling reports about the movements of the Blackfeet; the Indians appeared resolved to strike a grand blow this time; all the Missouri nations had responded to Natah Otann's appeal; the tribes arrived one after the other, to join the coalition, so that their number now attained four thousand, and threatened not to stop then.

Fort Mackenzie was surrounded on all sides by invisible enemies, who had completely cut off the communication with the other settlements of the Fur Company, and rendered the Major's position extremely critical. Thus the hunters were greatly perplexed; and during the many hours they had been deliberating, they had only hit on insufficient or impracticable means to relieve the fortress.

The White men have only succeeded in holding their own in Western America by the divisions they have managed to sow among the aborigines of the continent; whenever the latter have remained united, the Europeans have failed, as witness the Araucanos of Chili, whose small but valiant republic has maintained its independence to the present day; or the Seminoles of Louisiana, who have only lately been conquered after a desperate contest, carried on with all the rules of modern warfare, and many other Indian nations, whose names we could easily quote, if necessary, in support of our arguments.

This time the Indians seemed to have understood the importance of open and energetic action. The several Chiefs had, ostensibly at least, forgotten all their hatred and jealousies, to destroy the common enemy. Thus the Americans, in spite of their approved bravery, trembled at the mere thought of the war of extermination they would have to sustain against enemies exasperated by a long series of vexations, when they counted their numbers, and saw how weak they were, compared to the warriors preparing to crush them. The council, interrupted for a moment by Bright-eye's arrival, immediately assembled again, and the debate was continued.

"By heaven!" John Black exclaimed, angrily, as he smote his thigh with his fist, "I confess that I have no luck, everything turns against me; hardly have I settled here, whither everything made me forebode a prosperous future, than I am dragged, in spite of myself, into a war with these vagabond savages. Who knows how it will end? It is plain to me that we shall all lose our scalps. That is a pleasant prospect for a man who is anxious to raise his family honourably by his labour."

"That is not the question at this moment," Ivon said; "we have to save my master at all risks. What! you are all afraid to fight when it is almost your trade? and you have done hardly anything else during your lives; while I, who am known to be a remarkable coward, do not hesitate to risk my scalp to save my master."

"You do not understand me, Master Ivon; I do not say that I am afraid to fight the Indians; heaven guard me from fearing these Pagans, whom I despise. Still, I believe that an honest and laborious man, like myself, may be permitted to deplore the consequences of a war with these demons. I know too well all I and my family owe to the Count, to hesitate in hurrying to his help, whatever the result may be. The little I possess was his gift, I have not forgotten it, and even were I to fall, I would do my duty."

"Bravo! that is what I call speaking," Ivon replied, joyously; "I was certain you would not hang back."

"Unfortunately," Bright-eye objected, "all this does not advance matters much. I do not see how we can serve our friends. These red devils fall upon us more numerous than locusts in June. We may kill many of them, but in the end they will crush us by their weight."

This sad truth, perfectly understood by the auditors, plunged them into dull grief, A material impossibility cannot be discussed; it must be submitted to. The Americans felt an imminent catastrophe coming on, and their despair was augmented by the consciousness of their impotence. Suddenly the cry "To arms!" several times repeated outside, made them bound on their seats. Each seized his weapons, and ran out. The cry, which had broken up the conference, was raised by William, the squatter's son.

All eyes were turned on the prairie, and the hunters perceived, with secret terror, that William was not mistaken. A large band of Indian warriors, dressed in their grand war paint, was galloping over the plain, and rapidly approaching the clearing.

"Hang it!" Bright-eye muttered, "matters are getting worse. I must confess that these most accursed Pagans have made enormous progress in military tactics. If they continue, they will soon give us a lesson."

"Do you think so?" Black asked, anxiously.

"Confound it!" the hunter replied, "it is evident to me that we are about to be attacked, I now know the plan of the Redskins as thoroughly as if they had explained it to me themselves."

"Ah!" Ivon said, curiously.

"Judge for yourselves," the hunter continued; "the Indians intend to attack simultaneously all the posts occupied by white men, in order to render it impossible for them to help one another. That is excessively logical on their parts. In that way they will have a cheap bargain of us, and massacre us in detail. Hum! the man who commands them is a rough adversary for us. My lads, we must make up our minds gaily. We are lost, that is as plain to me as if the scalping knife was already in our hair. All left to us is to fall bravely."

These words, pronounced in the cool and placid tone usual with the wood ranger, caused all who heard them to shudder.

"I alone, perhaps," Bright-eye added, carelessly, "shall escape the common fate."

"Bah!" Ivon said; "you, old hunter, why so?"

"Why?" he said, with a sarcastic smile, "because, as you are perfectly aware, the Indians cannot kill me."

"Ah!" Ivon remarked, stupefied by this reason, and gazing on his friend with admiration.

"That is the state of the case," Bright-eye ended his address, and stamped his rifle on the ground.

In the meanwhile the Redskins advanced rapidly. The band was composed of one hundred and fifty warriors at least, the majority armed with guns, which proved they were picked men. At the head of the band, and about ten yards in advance, galloped two horsemen, probably Chiefs. The Indians stopped just out of range of the entrenchments; then, after consulting together for a few minutes, a horseman left the group, and, riding within pistol shot of the palisades, he waved a buffalo robe.

"Eh! eh! Master Black," Bright-eye said, with a cunning smile, "that is addressed to you as the chief of the garrison. The Redskins wish to parley."

"Ah!" the-American said, "I have a great mind to send a bullet after that rascal parading down, as my sole answer," and he raised his rifle.

"Mind what you are about," the hunter said, "you do not know the Redskins. So long as the first shot is not fired, there is a chance of treating with them."

"Suppose, old hunter," Ivon said, "you were to do something?"

"What is it, my prudent friend?" the Canadian asked.

"Why, as you are not afraid of being killed by the Redskins, suppose you go to them. Perhaps you could arrange matters with them."

"Stay! that is a good idea. No one can say what may happen. I will go. That will be the best, after all. Will you accompany me, Ivon?"

"Why not?" the latter answered; "with you, I am not afraid."

"Well, that is settled, then. Open the gate for us, Master Black; but keep a good lookout during our absence, and, on the first suspicious movement, fire on these heathens."

"Do not alarm yourself, old hunter," the latter said, squeezing his hand cordially; "I should not like any harm to happen to you, for you are a man."

"I believe so," the Canadian said, with a laugh; "but what I say to you is more for this worthy fellow's sake than mine, for I assure you I am quite easy on my own account."

"No matter, I will watch these demons carefully."

"That can do no harm."

The gate was opened. Bright-eye and Ivon went down the hill, and went toward the horseman, who was patiently awaiting them.

"Ah! ah!" Bright-eye muttered, as soon as he drew near enough to recognize the rider; "I fancy that our affairs are not quite so well as I suspected."

"Why so?" Ivon asked.

"Look at that warrior. Do you not see it is Red Wolf?"

"That is true. Well?"

"Well, I have reasons for believing that he is not so great an enemy as he appears to be."

"Are you sure of it?"

"Silence! we shall soon see."

The three men saluted each other courteously in the Indian fashion, by laying the right hand on the heart, and holding out the other open, with the fingers apart and the palm turned outwards.

"My brother is welcome among his Paleface brothers," Bright-eye said; "does he come to sit at the council fire, and smoke the calumet in my wigwam?"

"The hunter will decide. Red Wolf comes as a friend," the Indian answered.

"Good," the Canadian remarked; "did Red Wolf then fear treachery from his friend, that he brought so large a body of warriors with him?"

The Blackfoot smiled cunningly.

"Red Wolf is a chief among the Kenhas," he said, "his tongue is not forked. The words that pass his lips come from his heart. The Chief wishes to serve his Pale friends.

"Wah!" Bright-eye said, "the Chief has spoken well. His words have sounded pleasantly in my ears. What does my brother desire?"

"To sit at the council fire of the Palefaces, and explain to them the reasons that bring him here."

"Good. Will my brother go alone among the white men?"

"No! another person will accompany the Chief."

"And who is this person in whom so great a Chief as my brother places confidence?"

"The She-Wolf of the prairies."

Bright-eye suppressed a movement of joy.

"Good," he went on, "my brother can come with the She-Wolf. The Palefaces will receive them kindly."

"My brother, the hunter, will announce the visit of his friends."

"Yes, Chief, I will go at once and do so."

The conference was over. The three men separated, after again saluting, and Bright-eye and Ivon hurried back to the entrenchments.

"Victory!" the hunter said, on arriving, "we are saved!"

All pressed round him, greedy to learn the details of the conference, and Bright-eye satisfied the general curiosity without a moment's delay.

"Ah!" Black said, "if the old lady is with them we are, indeed, saved," and he rubbed his hands joyfully.

After having failed so unluckily in the snare she had laid for Natah Otann, Mrs. Margaret, far from being discouraged, felt her desire of revenge increased; and, without losing time in regretting the check she had undergone, she immediately drew up her plans, for she had reached that pitch of rage when a person is completely blinded by hatred, and goes onward regardless of consequences. Ten minutes after leaving the Sachem, she quitted the camp, accompanied by Red Wolf, who, by her orders, led off the warriors he commanded and started for the clearing.

Bright-eye had scarce given his friends the information they desired, ere Margaret and Red Wolf entered the stockade, where they were received with the greatest affability by the trappers, and especially by Black, who was delighted to find that his clearing was not menaced, and that the storm was turning from him to burst elsewhere.

Let us now return to Fort Mackenzie, where, at this very moment, events of the utmost importance were occurring.

CHAPTER XXVII
THE ATTACK

White Buffalo and Natah Otann had drawn up their strategic arrangements with remarkable skill. The two Chiefs had scarce formed their camp in the clearing, ere they assembled the Sachems of the other tribes camped not far from them, in order to combine their movement, so as to attack the Americans simultaneously from all points.

Though the Redskins are excessively cunning, the Americans had succeeded in thoroughly deceiving them, in the gloom and silence that prevailed through the fort, for not a single bayonet could be seen glistening behind its parapets. Leaving their horses concealed in the forest, the Indians lay down on the ground, and, crawling through the tall grass like reptiles, began crossing the space that separated them from the ramparts.

All was still apparently gloomy and silent, and yet two thousand intrepid warriors were crawling up in the shadow to attack a fortress behind which forty resolute men only waited for the signal to be given, and commence the attack. When all the orders had been given, and the last warriors had quitted the hill, Natah Otann, whose perspicuous eye had discovered a certain hesitation of evil omen in the minds of the allied chiefs, resolved to make that final appeal to the Count to secure his co-operation. We have already seen the result. When left alone, Natah Otann gave the signal for attack; the Indians rushed like a hurricane down the sides of the hill, and ran towards the fort, brandishing their arms, and uttering their war yell. Suddenly a heavy discharge was heard, and Fort Mackenzie was begirt with smoke and dazzling flashes. The battle had commenced.

The plain was invaded, as far as eye could trace, by powerful detachments of Indian warriors, who, converging on one point, marched resolutely toward the fort, incessantly discharging their bullets at it; while new bands could be seen constantly arriving from the place where the chain of hills abuts on the Missouri. They came up at a gallop, in parties of from three to twenty men; their horses were covered with foam, which led to the presumption that they had come a long distance. The Blackfeet were in their war attire, loaded with all sorts of ornaments and arms, with bow and quiver on their backs, and musket in hand, while their heads were crowned with feathers, some of which were the magnificent black and white eagle plumes. They were seated on handsome saddle cloths of panther skin, lined with red; the upper part of the body was naked, with the exception of a long strip of wolf skin passing over the shoulder as a cross belt, while their bucklers were adorned with feathers and cloth of various colours.

These men, thus accoutred, had something imposing and majestic about them, which affected the imagination, and inspired terror.

The struggle seemed most obstinate in the environs of the fort, and on the hill. The Blackfeet, sheltered by tall palisades planted during the night, replied to the Americans' fire with an equally rapid fire, exciting each other, with wild cries, courageously to resist the attack of their implacable foes. The defence was, however, as vigorous as the assault, and the combat did not appear destined to terminate so soon. Already many corpses lay on the ground, startled horses galloped in every direction, and the shrieks of the wounded mingled at intervals with the defiant shouts of the assailants.

Natah Otann, so soon as the signal had been given, ran off to the tent where his prisoner was.

"The moment has arrived," he said to him.

"I am ready," the Count answered, "go on. I will keep constantly at your side."

"Come on, then!"

They went out, and at once rushed into the thickest fight. The Count, as he had said, was unarmed, raising his head fiercely at each bullet that whistled past his ear, and smiling at the death which he, perhaps, invoked in his heart. In spite of his contempt for the white race, the Indian could not refrain from admiring this courage, which was so frankly and nobly stoical.

"You are a man," he said to the Count.

"Did you ever doubt it?" the latter remarked, simply.

Still the combat became, with each moment, more obstinate. The Indians rushed forward, roaring like lions, against the palisades of the fort, and were killed without flinching; their bodies almost filled up the moat. The Americans, compelled to make a front on all sides, defended themselves with the methodical and resolute impassiveness of men who know they have no help to expect, and who have made up their minds to sell their lives dearly.

From the beginning of the fight, White Buffalo had, with a picked body of men, held the hill that commanded Fort Mackenzie, which rendered the position of the garrison still more precarious, for they were thus exposed to a terrible and well-sustained fire, which caused them irreparable loss, regard being had to the smallness of their numbers. Major Melville, standing at the foot of the flagstaff, with his arms crossed on his breast, a pallid brow and compressed lips, saw his men fall one after the other, and he stamped his foot with rage at his impotence to save them.

Suddenly, a terrific shriek of agony rose from the interior of the buildings, and the wives of the soldiers and engagés rushed simultaneously into the square, flying, half mad with terror, from an enemy still invisible. The Indians, guided by White Buffalo, had turned the fortress, and discovered a secret entrance which the Major fancied known to himself alone, and which, in case of a serious attack and impossibility of defence, would serve the garrison in effecting its retreat. From this moment the Americans saw that they were lost; it was no longer a battle, but a massacre. The Major, followed by a few resolute men, rushed into the buildings, and the Indians scaled on all sides the palisades, now deprived of protection.

The few surviving Americans collected round the flagstaff, from the top of which floated the starry banner of the United States, and strove to sell their lives as dearly as possible, for they feared most falling alive into the bands of their implacable enemies. The Indians replied to the hurrahs of their foes by their terrific war cry, and bounded on them like coyotes, brandishing over their heads the blood-stained weapons.

"Down with your arms!" Natah Otann shouted, on reaching the scene of action.

"Never!" the Major replied, rushing on him at the head of the few soldiers still left him.

The mêlée recommenced, more ardently and implacable than before. The Indians rushed about in every direction, throwing torches on the roofs, which immediately caught fire. The Major saw that victory was hopeless, and tried to effect his retreat. But that was not so easy; there was no chance of climbing over the palisades; the only prospect was the gate; but before that gate, the Blackfeet, skilfully posted, repulsed with their lances those who tried to escape by it. Still there was no alternative. The Major rallied his men for a final effort, and rushed with incredible fury on the enemy, with the hope of cutting his way through.

The collision was horrible – it was not a battle, but a butchery; foot to foot, chest against chest – in which the men seized each other round the waist, killed each other with knives, or tore the foe with teeth and nails: those who fell did not rise again – the wounded were finished at once. This frightful carnage lasted about a quarter of an hour; two-thirds of the Americans succumbed; the rest managed to force a passage and fled, closely pursued by the Indians, who then commenced a horrible manhunt. Never, until this day, had the Redskins fought the Whites with such fury and tenacity. The presence among them of the Count, disarmed and smiling, who, although rushing into the thickest of the contest by the side of the Chief, appeared invulnerable, electrified them, and they really believed that Natah Otann had told them the truth – and that the Count was that Motecuhzoma they had waited so long, and whose presence would restore them for ever that liberty which the White men had torn from them. Thus they had kept their eyes constantly fixed on the young man, saluting him with noisy shouts of joy, and redoubling their efforts to secure the victory. Natah Otann rushed toward the American flag, tore it down, and wound it over his head.

"Victory – victory!" he shouted, joyfully.

The Blackfeet responded to this cry with yells, and spread in every direction to begin plundering. A few men still remained in the fort, among them being the Major, who did not wish to survive his defeat. The Indians, rushed upon him with loud yells, to massacre him, but the veteran remained calm, and did not offer to defend himself.

"Stay!" the Count shouted; and turning to Natah Otann, said, – "Will you let this brave soldier be assassinated in cold blood?"

"No," the Sachem answered, "if he consents to surrender his sword to me."

"Never!" the old gentleman said, with energy, as he broke across his knee his weapon, blood-stained to the hilt, threw the pieces at the Chief's feet, and, crossing his arms, he regarded his victor with supreme contempt, as he said —

"Kill me now; I can no longer defend myself."

"Bravo!" the Count exclaimed; and, not calculating the consequences of the deed, he went up to the Major, and cordially pressed his hand. Natah Otann regarded the two for an instant with an indefinable expression.

"Oh!" he muttered to himself, with sorrow; "we may beat them, but we shall never conquer them: these men are stronger than we; they are born to be our masters."

Then raising his hand above his head.

"Enough!" he said, in a loud voice.

"Enough!" the Count repeated, "respect the conquered."

That which the Sachem could not have obtained, in spite of the respect the Indians had for him, the Count obtained instantaneously, through the superstitious veneration he inspired them with; they stopped, and the carnage finally ceased; the Americans were disarmed in a second, and the Redskins remained masters of the fort.

Natah Otann then took his totem from the hands of the warrior who bore it, and, after swinging it several times in the air, hoisted it in the place of the American flag, in the midst of the frenzied shouts of the Indians, who, intoxicated with joy, could hardly yet believe in their victory.

White Buffalo had not lost a moment in assuring himself of the peaceful possession of a conquest which had cost the confederates so much blood and toil. When the Sachems had restored some little order among their warriors; when the fire, that threatened the destruction of the fort, had been extinguished; and all precautions taken against any renewal of the attack by the Americans – though that was very improbable – Natah Otann and White Buffalo withdrew to the apartment hitherto occupied by the Major, and the Count followed them.

"At length," the young Count exclaimed, with delight, "we have proved to these haughty Americans that they are not invincible."

"Your weakness caused their strength," White Buffalo replied. "You have made a good beginning, and now you must go on; it is not enough to conquer; you must know how to profit by that victory."

"Pardon my interrupting you, gentlemen," the Count said; "but I fancy the hour has arrived to settle our accounts."