The Captain of the Gray-Horse Troop Part 27

Said Curtis: "You will find in this camp the Tetong comparatively unchanged. Red Wolf's band is the most primitive encampment I know." A few minutes later he added, "Here comes Many Coups and his son in official garb."

The two chieftains greeted their visitors as if they had not hitherto been seen--with all the dignity of amba.s.sadors to a foreign court.

"Please treat them with the same formality," warned Curtis. "It will pay you for the glimpse of the old-time ceremony."

The younger man was unpainted, save for some small blue figures on his forehead. On his head he wore a wide Mexican hat which vastly became him. His face was one of the handsomest and most typical of his race.

"This young man is the son of Many Coups, and is called Blue Fox, or 'The Southern Traveller,' because he has been down where the Mexicans are. His hat he got there, and he is very proud of it," explained Curtis.

Jennie gave each of them a cup of coffee and a biscuit, of which they partook without haste, discussing meanwhile the coming council.

"We did not know you were coming; some of our people will not get here in time," said Many Coups.

"To-night, after the council, we wish to dance," said Blue Fox, meaning it as a request.

"It is forbidden in Was.h.i.+ngton to dance in the old way."

"We have heard of that, but we will dance for your wives. They will be glad to see it."

"Very well, you may dance, but not too long. No war-dance--only the visitors' dance."

"Ay, we understand," said Many Coups as he rose and drew his blanket about him. "In one hour we will come to council. Red Wolf will be there, and Hump Shoulder and his son. It may be others will return in time."

The women were delighted at the promise of both a council and a dance, and Lawson unlimbered his camera in order to take some views of both functions, though he expressed some dissatisfaction.

"The n.o.ble redman is thin and crooked in the legs," he said to Curtis.

"Why is this?"

"All the plains Indians, who ride the horse almost from their babyhood, are bow-legged. They never walk, and they are seldom symmetrically developed."

"They are significant, but not beautiful," said Lawson.

As they walked about the camp Elsie exclaimed: "This is the way all redmen should live," and, indeed, the scene was very beautiful. They were far above the agency, and the long valleys could be seen descending like folds in a vast robe reaching to the plain. The ridges were dark with pines for a s.p.a.ce, but grew smooth and green at lower levels, and at last melted into haze. The camp was a summer camp, and all about, in pleasant places among the pines, stood the tepees, swarming with happy children and puppies. Under low lodges of canvas or bowers of pine branches the women were at work boiling meat or cooking a rude sort of cruller. They were very shy, and mostly hung their heads as their visitors pa.s.sed, though they soon yielded to Jennie, who could speak a few words to them.

"There's nothing in them for sculpture," said Parker, critically. "At least not for beauty. They might be treated as Raffaelle paints--for character."

"They grow heavy early," Jennie added, "but the little girls are beautiful--see that little one!"

The crier, a tall old man, toothless and wrinkled and gray, began to cry in a hollow, monotonous voice, "Come to the council place," and Curtis led his flock to their places in the midst of the circle.

The council began with all the old-time forms, with gravity and decorum.

Red Wolf was in the centre, with Many Coups at his left. The pipe of peace went round, and those whose minds were not yet prepared for speech drew deep inspirations of the fragrant smoke in the hope that their thoughts might be clarified, and when they lifted their eyes they seemed not to perceive their visitors or those who pa.s.sed to and fro among the tepees. The sun, westering, fell with untempered light on their heads, but they faced it with the calm unconcern of eagles.

To please his guests, Curtis allowed the utmost formality, and did not hasten, interrupt, or excise. The speeches were translated into English by Lawson, and at each telling point or period in Red Wolf's speech the women looked at each other in surprise.

"Did he really say that?" asked Elsie. "Didn't you make it up?"

"Rather good for a ragam.u.f.fin, don't you think?" said Lawson, as the old man took his seat.

Many Coups spoke slowly, sadly, as though half communing with himself, with nothing of the bombast the visitors had expected, and he grew in dignity and power as his thought began to make itself felt through his interpreter.

"He is speaking for his race," remarked Lawson to Elsie.

"By Jove! the old fellow is a good lawyer!" cried Parker. "I don't see any answer to his indictment."

Curtis sat listening as though each point the old man made were new--and this att.i.tude pleased the chieftains very much.

The speech, in its general tenor, was similar to many others he had heard from thoughtful redmen. Briefly he described the time when the redmen were happy in a land filled with deer and buffalo, before the white man was. "We lived as the Great Spirit made us. Then the white man came--and now we are bewildered with his commands. Our eyes are blinded, we know not where to go. We know not whom to believe or trust. I am old, I am going to my grave troubled over the fate of my children. Agents come and go. The good ones go too soon--the bad ones stay too long, but they all go. There is no one in whose care to leave my children. It is better to die here in the hills than to live the slave of the white man, ragged and spiritless, slinking about like a dog without a friend. We do not want to make war any more--we ask only to live as our fathers lived, and die here in the hills."

As he spoke these final tragic words his voice grew deep and trembled, and Elsie felt some strong force gripping at her throat, and burning tears filled her eyes. In the city it was easy to say, "The way of civilization lies over the graves of the primitive races," but here, under the sun, among the trees, when one of those about to die looked over and beyond her to the hills as though choosing his grave--the utterance of the pitiless phrase was difficult in any tone--impossible in the boasting shout of the white promoter. She rose suddenly and walked away--being ashamed of her tears, a painful constriction in her throat.

The speakers who followed spoke in much the same way--all but Blue Fox, who sharply insisted that the government should help them. "You have put us here on barren land where we can only live by raising stock. You should help us fence the reservation, and get us cattle to start with.

Then by-and-by we can build good houses and have plenty to eat. This is right, for you have destroyed our game--and you will not let us go to the mountains to hunt. You must do something besides furnish us ploughs in a land where the rain does not come."

In answer to all this, Curtis replied, using the sign language. He admitted that Red Wolf was right. "The Tetongs have been cheated, but good days are coming. I am going to help you. I am going to stay with you till you are safely on the white man's road. We intend to buy out the settlers, and take the water in the streams so that you may raise potatoes for your children, and you will then be glad because your gardens will bear many things good to eat. Do not despair, the white people are coming to understand the situation now. You have many friends who will help."

As Many Coups rose and shook hands with the agent he was smiling again, and he said, "Your words are good."

The old crier went forth again calling: "Come to the dance-hall. The white people desire to see you dance. Come clothed in your best garments."

Then the drum began to utter its spasmodic signal, and the herald's voice sounded faint and far off as he descended the path to the second group of tepees.

"Shall we go now?" asked Mrs. Parker.

"Oh no, it will be two hours before they begin. The young men must go and dress. We have time to sup and smoke a pipe."

"Oh! I'm so glad we're going to see a real Indian dance. I didn't suppose it could be seen now--not the real thing."

Lawson smiled. "You'll think this is the real thing before you get inside the door. I've known tenderfeet to weaken at the last moment."

Parker pretended to be a little nervous. "Suppose they should get hold of some liquor."

"This band is too far away from the white man to have his vices,"

replied Curtis with a slight smile. He had wondered at Elsie's going, but concluded she had grown weary of the old chief's speech.

"There is great charm in this life," said Lawson, as they all gathered before their tent and sat overlooking the village and the lake. "I sometimes wonder whether we have not complicated life without adding to the sum of human happiness."

"I'm thinking of this in winter," said Elsie. "O-o-o! It must be terrible! No furnace, no bath-tubs."

The others laughed heartily at the sincerity of her shudder, and Curtis said:

"Well, now, you'd be surprised to know how comfortable they keep in their tepees. In the old skin tepee they were quite warm even on the coldest days. They always camp in sheltered places out of the wind, and where fuel is plenty."

"At the same time I prefer my own way of living to theirs--when winter comes."

"I know something of your logic," replied Curtis. "But I think I understand the reluctance of these people when asked to give up the old things. I love their life--their daily actions--this man coiling a lariat--that child's outline against the tepee--the smell of their fresh bread--the smoke of their little fires. I can understand a Tetong when he says: 'All this is as sweet to me as your own life--why should I give it up?' Feeling as I do, I never insist on their giving up anything which is not an impediment. I argue with them, and show that some of their ways are evil or a hinderance in the struggle for life under new conditions, and they always meet me half-way."

"Supper is ready," called Jennie, and his audience rose.