The Great Sioux Trail Part 32

Will shuddered over and over again. He was sick at both heart and brain.

Could it be true? Could those men be dead? The wise Boyd, the cheerful Little Giant, and the grave and kindly Brady? Once more he looked Heraka straight in the eye, but the gaze of the chief did not waver.

"I have hope, though but a little hope," he said, "that it pleases the chief to test me. He would see whether I can bear such news."

"If the belief helps you then Heraka will not try again to make you see the truth. What is your name?"

"Clarke, William Clarke."

"Why have you come to the land of the Dakotas?"

"Not to take it. Not to kill the buffalo. Not to drive away any of your people."

"But you are captured upon it. The great chief, Mahpeyalute, warned the American captain and the soldiers that they must not let the white people come any farther."

"That is true. I was there, and I heard Red Cloud give the warning."

"And yet you came against the threat of Mahpeyalute."

"Mine was an errand of a nature almost sacred. I tell you again there was no harm in it to your country and your people."

"Many times have the white people told to the Dakotas things that were lies."

"It is true, but the sins of others are not mine."

Will spoke with all his heart in his words. Despite the terrible disaster that had befallen, even if the chief's words were true, and all his friends were dead, he wished, nevertheless, to live. He was young, strong, of great vitality, and nothing could crush the love of life in him.

"What do you intend to do with me?" he asked.

Heraka smiled, but the smile contained nothing of gentleness or mercy, rather it was amus.e.m.e.nt at the anxiety of one who was wholly in his power.

"Your fate shall not be known to you until it comes," he said.

Will felt a chill running down his spine. It was the primal instinct to torture and slay the enemy and the Sioux lived up to it. It was keen torture already to hear that his fate would surely come, but not to know how or where or when was worse. But it appeared that it was not to come at once, and with that thought he felt the thrill of hope. His was unquenchable youth and the vital spark in him flamed up.

"Would you mind untying my ankles?" he said. "You can save your torture for later on."

Heraka signed to a warrior, who cut the thongs and Will, sitting up, rubbed them carefully until the blood flowed back in its natural channels. Meanwhile he observed the band and counted sixteen warriors, all but Heraka seeming to be the wildest of wild Indians, most of them entirely naked save for moccasins and the breech cloth. They carried muzzle-loading rifles, bows and arrows hung from the bushes and lances leaned against the trees. Beyond the bushes he caught glimpses of their ponies grazing, and these glimpses were sufficient to show him that they had many extra animals for the packs. When he saw them better, then he would know whether his friends were really dead, because if they were their packs and the animals would be there, too. But the chief, Heraka, broke in upon the thought--he seemed able to read Will's mind.

"This is but part of the force that besieged you," he said. "There were three bands joined. The others with the spoil have gone west, leaving as our share the prisoner. A living captive is worth more than two scalps."

Will tried to remember all he had ever heard or read about the necessity of stoicism when in the hands of savage races and by a supreme effort of the will he was able to put a little of it into practice. Pretending to indifference, he asked if he might have something to eat, and received roasted meat of the buffalo. He had a good appet.i.te, despite his weakness and headache, and when he had eaten in abundance and had drunk a gourd of water they gave him he felt better.

"I thank you for binding up my wounded head," he said to Heraka. "I don't know your motive in doing so, but I thank you just the same."

The Dakota chief smiled grimly.

"We do not wish you to die yet," he said, speaking his English in the precise, measured manner of one to whom it is a foreign language.

"Inmutanka, the Panther, bound it up, and he is one of the best healers we have."

"Then I thank also Inmutanka, or the Panther, whichever he prefers to be called. I can't see the top of my head, but I know he made a good job of it."

Inmutanka proved to be an elderly but robust Sioux warrior, and however he may have been when torture was going forward he wore just then a bland smile, although not much else. With wonderfully light and skilful hands he took off Will's bandage and replaced it with another. Will never knew what it was made of, but it seemed to be lined with leaves steeped in the juices of herbs.

The Indians had some simple remedies of great power, and he felt the effect of the new bandage at once. His headache began to abate rapidly, and with the departure of pain his views of life became much more cheerful.

"I never saw you before, Dr. Inmutanka," he said, "but I know you're one of the finest physicians in all the West. Whatever school you graduated from should give you all the degrees it has to give. Again, I thank you."

The Indian seemed not to understand a word he said, but no one could mistake the sincerity of the lad's tone. Inmutanka, otherwise the Panther, smiled, and the smile was not cruel, nor yet cynical. He stepped back a little, regarded his handiwork with satisfaction, and then merged himself into the band.

"That's a good Sioux! I know he is!" said Will warmly to Heraka.

"Hereafter Dr. Inmutanka shall be my personal and private physician."

Heraka's face was touched by a faint smile. It was the first mild emotion he had shown and Will rejoiced to see it. He found himself wis.h.i.+ng to please this wild chief, not in any desire to seek favor, but he felt that, in its way, the approval of Heraka was approval worth having.

"You eat, you drink, you feel strong again," said Heraka.

"Yes, that's it."

"Then we go. We are mountain Sioux. We have a village deep in the high mountains that white men can never find. We will take you there, where you will await your fate, never knowing what it is nor when it will come."

Will was shaken once more by a terrible shudder. This constant harping upon the mysterious but fearful end that was sure to overtake him was having its effect. Heraka had reckoned right when he began the torture of the mind. The chief spoke sharply to the warriors and putting out the fire they gathered up their weapons and the horses. Will was mounted on one of the ponies and his ankles were tied together beneath the animal's body, but loosely only, enough to prevent a sudden flight though not enough to cause pain. There was no saddle, but as he was used to riding bare-backed he could endure it indefinitely.

Then the chief did a surprising thing, binding a piece of soft deerskin over Will's eyes so tightly that not a ray of light entered.

"Why do you do that, Heraka?" asked the lad.

"That you may not see which way you go, nor what is by the path as you ride. Soon, with your eyes covered you will lose the sense of direction and you will not be able to tell whether you go north or south or east or west."

He spoke sharply to the warriors and the group set off. The direction at first was toward the north, as Will well knew, but the band presently made many curves and changes of course, and, as Heraka had truly said, he ceased to have any idea of the course they were taking. He saw nothing, but he heard all around him the footfalls of the ponies, and, now and then, the word of one warrior to another. He might have raised his hands to tear loose the bandage over his eyes, but he knew that the Sioux would interfere at once, and he would only bring upon himself some greater pain.

Will felt that a warrior was riding on either side of him and presently he was aware also that the one on the right had moved up more swiftly, giving way to somebody else. A sort of mental telepathy told him that the first warrior had been replaced by a stronger and more dominant one.

Instinct said that it was Heraka, and he was not mistaken. The chief rode on in silence for at least ten minutes and then he asked:

"Which way do you ride, Wayaka (captive)? Is it north, or south, or is it east or west?"

"I don't know," confessed Will. "I tried to keep the sense of direction, but we twisted and turned so much I've lost it."

"I knew that it would be so. Wayaka will ride many hundreds of miles, he knows not whither. And whether he is to die soon or late he will see his own people again never more. If he ever looks upon a white face again it will be the face of one who is a friend of the Sioux and not of his own race, or the face of a captive like himself."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "If he ever looks upon a white face again it will be the face of one who is a friend of the Sioux."]

Will shuddered. The threat coming from a man like Heraka, who spoke in a tone at once charged with malice and power, was full of evil portent.

Had an ordinary Indian threatened him thus he might not have been affected so deeply, but with the decree of Heraka he seemed to vanish completely from the face of the earth, or, at least, from his world and all those that knew him. His will, however, was still strong. He felt instinctively that Heraka was looking at him, and he would show no sign of flinching or of weakness. He straightened himself up on the pony, threw back his shoulders and replied defiantly:

"I have a star that protects me, Heraka. Nearly every man has a star, but mine is a most powerful one, and it will save me. Even now, though I cannot see and I do not know whether it is daylight or twilight, I know that my star, invisible though it may be in the heavens, is watching over me."

He spoke purposely in the lofty and somewhat allegorical style, used sometimes by the higher cla.s.s of Indians, and he could not see its effect. But Heraka, strong though his mind was, felt a touch of superst.i.tious awe, and looking up at the heavens, all blue though they were, almost believed that he saw in them a star looking down at Wayaka, the prisoner.