Dusty Star Part 5

Dusty Star did not take any risk by rashly stepping forward. He stood absolutely still, yet so anxious lest his wild hope should be vain, that he hardly dared to breathe.

He saw the wolf rise, depress its body slightly and then leap upon him.

He felt the weight of the heavy body against his chest, struggled to keep his balance, and fell without a sound.

And then the night and the stars, and the whole world were blotted out by a great hairy wolf-body, and a tongue that licked and s...o...b..red, and s...o...b..red and licked.

_Kiopo at last!_

Dusty Star did not struggle. He knew if he attempted to rise, Kiopo would only knock him down again, at the risk of rousing the sleepers in the tepee. Even as it was, he dreaded lest his father might hear, and come out to see what was going on; for Kiopo, in his wild delight, could not content himself with action only, but must keep up a continual whining and growling, broken every now and then by smothered barks.

It was some time before Kiopo's excitement had cooled enough for him to let Dusty Star get up. Every time the boy seemed inclined to rise, the wolf, planting a fore-paw firmly upon his chest, bared his s.h.i.+ning teeth, and growled. It was as much as if he said:

"I ran away from you once, little brother, because it was necessary, but now I am going to see that you don't escape from _me_!"

When Kiopo was calm enough to behave more reasonably, Dusty Star sat up.

He put his arms round his neck, and began to talk to him in a low, gurgling flow of quaint Indian words. And indeed the words seemed to be sweet with the juice of sarvis berries and wild pears, and to have the wind in them over a thousand miles of prairie, and the wet sound of great waters, and syllables borrowed from beasts and birds since the beginning of the earth. If Kiopo did not understand the words in the very exact shape of them as they ran from Dusty Star's mouth, he had a sense of what he was trying to tell him, because he understood the great nature-language that is deeper than the dictionaries, and lies broad along the world.

Beyond a low whine occasionally, or a gurgle in his throat, Kiopo did not reply. Yet his very silence was an answer. His whole body gave it.

_His silence bulged with Himself._

CHAPTER IX

SITTING-ALWAYS SPEAKS HER MIND

The news of Kiopo's return ran swiftly through the camp. They spoke of it in the tepees as something to be reckoned with. It might mean evil, or it might mean good. Whether good or evil, it was very strange. As for the huskies, they had but one feeling about it: the wolf's return was bad. All that day, and the days that followed, Stickchi's eyes had a wicked glitter; and not a husky of them all but knew that mischief was brewing.

But what the huskies felt did not cause Kiopo any serious discomfort. He was a half-grown cub no longer. The long winter had made a wolf of him.

His chest had deepened, his limbs lengthened. He was a creature to be feared. When Dusty Star went through the camp, Kiopo close at his heels, he had reason to be proud of his wolf. The boy held his head high, because of the great pride and gladness that was in his heart. Now that he had Kiopo once more, his heart soared like a hawk. The joy that was in him shone clear in his eyes. He gave a bold look into the faces of every one he met. But when he and Kiopo pa.s.sed out on to the prairie, suspicious glances followed them, and watched keenly where they went.

Nothing happened that day, or the next; but upon the third day after Kiopo's return, Dusty Star became uneasy. He could not have definitely said what was the matter. But things were in the air. Something new was in the camp. It had not declared itself, but it was none the less there.

Beneath the painted coverings of the tepees, he felt that the secret grew.

On the evening of the third day, just after sundown, he was returning from the prairie, after driving his father's ponies in for the night.

The camp fires were burning brightly and in the deepening twilight dusky figures were pa.s.sing to and fro. He noticed that round the tepee of Spotted Owl a small group of people had collected. Inside, a drum was beating softly and very slowly, as if some medicine ceremony were beginning. Dusty Star lingered a little to watch, and then pa.s.sed on.

When he reached the home tepee he found his supper ready. But after he had finished, he did not go immediately to bed as usual. Instead, he went out again into the camp.

The night had fallen now. It was cloudy and very dark. But the glow of the camp fires made a sort of twilight in the camp itself; a twilight that wandered as the fires rose or fell. While he stood intently on the watch, he saw a figure come out from the doorway of his grandmother's tepee. The figure stood quite still, as if it, too, were on the watch.

It was m.u.f.fled in a robe, from head to foot, so that its actual shape was hidden. Dusty Star was surprised. It was not his grandmother's habit to stir abroad after nightfall. She had grave misgivings in the dark.

But if it were a late visitor why then was it so carefully covered?

The figure moved and glided away into the darkness. Dusty Star, keeping well within the deepest shadows, followed swiftly in the figure's track.

It did not stop till it reached Little Owl's tepee. Dusty Star watched it enter, and then crept close to the back of the lodge. The soft beating of the drum was still audible, but soon after the entrance of the newcomer it ceased. Then a voice spoke.

Dusty Star, crouching close against the bottom of the tepee could hear every word distinctly. The speaker was Spotted Owl.

"The wolf has returned to Running Wolf's lodge," he said. "It is five moons now since he went away. He may have brought back much medicine with him. It may be good medicine. Lone Chief thinks it is a strong medicine--very good, perhaps, if we sent a war party against the Yellow Dogs. But he must be watched."

The voice ceased. Apparently, for the moment, Spotted Owl had nothing more to say.

Then another voice spoke.

"The wolf is always with the boy. They go out upon the prairies together. If the wolf has medicine, he shares it with the boy. The boy knows many things about the wolves."

Several other speakers expressed an opinion that it would be wise to advise Running Wolf to send the wolf away. It was clear that the general feeling of the meeting was that Kiopo should not be injured, and that if he were driven away, no one must attempt it but Running Wolf.

At this point another voice broke in which Dusty Star recognized only too well. The person was no other than Sitting-Always herself. She spoke quickly and with great earnestness.

"The wolf is bad," she said. "Nothing has gone well since he came to the camp. The boy also is bad. He and the wolf are always making medicine.

That is why they go alone upon the prairies that they may make medicine together out of sight of the tepees. It will not be sufficient to drive the wolf away. As long as the boy is here, the wolf will come back. He is teaching the boy the wolf medicine. When the boy has learnt it fully, it will be a madness to send war parties against the Gros Ventres. If you destroy the wolf, you will destroy the medicine, and the boy will lose his power. He is Indian now, but there is something in him that is wolf. Either he will carry his medicine to our enemies, the Gros Ventres, or he will go back to the wolves. You must kill the wolf, even if you do not touch the boy. You must kill, kill, _kill_!"

As Sitting-Always finished her speech, her voice rose to a shrillness that was almost a shout. In the yellow desert of her face her sunken eyes glittered with pa.s.sion. It was plain to all who saw her that she was very greatly moved. To the one person who heard, but did not see her, it was as if a poisoned arrow had plunged into his heart.

After she had ceased speaking, a low murmur of voices filled the tepee.

The pa.s.sionate words of the old squaw had roused the Indians to a feeling that something must be done. Spotted Owl's next speech showed this very clearly. He did not commit himself so far as to say that the wolf must be killed; but he allowed his hearers to draw their own conclusions. Once the wolf was out of the way, the boy could be dealt with as the tribe should decide. When Sitting-Always heard the concluding words of the speech, a look of evil triumph glimmered in her face.

Dusty Star did not wait to hear any more. Whatever plan his enemies might adopt, there was no time to lose. The secret was out now--the dark, unspoken thing which his sense had warned him was walking in the camp. As he crept away from the tepee, hatred, fear, and anger made his heart feel as if it would burst. Yet it was not so much for himself, as for Kiopo, that his pa.s.sions were fully roused. He did not doubt that his father and mother would devise some means to protect him from any serious harm, as soon as they realized the threatened danger. But if Kiopo were the cause of that danger, his instinct warned him that neither of them would hesitate a moment to sacrifice the wolf. In all the vast world, he knew that the only friend Kiopo could rely on was himself.

When he got back to the tepee, he saw with alarm that Kiopo was not there. His mother scolded him for staying out so late. His father, already under his buffalo robe, muttered drowsily of a beating in the morning. Dusty Star had his own ideas connected with the morning. His brain was thick with the dust of a great plan. His mother's angry words were like fireflies that darted but did not sting.

Dusty Star went immediately to bed. His mother, having eased her mind, did likewise. Blue Wings and the father were already fast asleep. Very soon the only person still awake in the tepee was Dusty Star himself.

And the night deepened. Out there, in the awful hush of the prairies, you could almost hear the deepening of it from the roots of the cama.s.s flowers right up to the very roots of the stars!

In the camp itself only one sound was audible--the low persistent throbbing of a drum.

As the boy listened, the beating of his heart became another drumming; for his instinct told him that it was the medicine-making that would surely send Kiopo to his death.

It was impossible to stay longer in bed. Out there, in the night, things were happening. The evil thing that Sitting-Always had planned, was hatching. When it was fully hatched, Kiopo would be doomed. Dusty Star felt there was not any time to lose. If Kiopo did not return immediately, he might not come back till the dawn. And if he delayed till then, it might be too late to warn him. His enemies might wait for him in ambush and kill him as he returned.

Dusty Star made up his mind. If Kiopo did not come back to him, he must go out to find Kiopo; there was no other way.

He got up softly, took his bow and arrows, and a strip of pemmican that was handy, and pa.s.sed stealthily out of the tepee.

The night was starlight. Dusty Star saw the world in a vast glimmer. It was the twilight of the stars. He paused a moment, embracing the camp in one swift, sweeping glance that missed out nothing that was important to be seen. All was one deep shadow in which the tepees were lesser shadows that stood up gaunt and black. Dusty Star was not afraid of the shadows.

What he dreaded were eyes. You could see the shadows, but the eyes that might lurk in them you could not see. And the eyes you did not see might watch you as you went. He was very anxious. Why of all nights should Kiopo have chosen this one to be out? If they were to escape, it must be to-night. To-morrow it might be too late. Ah! What was that? Surely it was a man's form, black against the glimmer of the prairies! And it moved! It was coming nearer! To his horror Dusty Star saw another form, and then another, moving the direction of the tepee. He cast a fearful glance behind him. Again he distinguished moving figures. There was no mistaking it. A ring of Indians was closing in upon the tepee. He crept to the back of it, in the hope that he might not be seen, for a time, at least, till there was an opportunity to make a dash for freedom. As he crouched on the ground behind the tepee, a cold nose was thrust against his face. Kiopo!... Unknown to him, the wolf had returned after the tepee had been secured for the night, and had lain down to sleep against it.

Dusty Star s.h.i.+vered in an agony of fear. If they were discovered it seemed as if some terrible fate had ordered that Kiopo should return just when he had. The one lucky thing was that they were not inside the tepee. Yet even so, the chances of escape were small indeed with that ring of pitiless enemies steadily closing in.

Kiopo saw them too. More than that, his unfailing instinct warned him what the danger was. He gave a low, rumbling growl. Dusty Star, with his arm tightly about him, whispered to him to keep still. As he looked up, he could see the heads of the approaching Indians black against the stars. They were terribly close now.

Then he heard a slight noise at the front of the tepee, and knew that some one was trying to unfasten the calf-skin flap. He held his breath, dreading from moment to moment that they would be discovered. Kiopo had ceased to growl, because he had realized that absolute silence was necessary for their safety; but Dusty Star could feel how the wolf's heart was throbbing, while his whole body s.h.i.+vered as if ready to spring upon his foes at the slightest hint.

Suddenly it seemed to Dusty Star as if one of the nearer Indians bent forward to look more closely at the back of the tepee. If that were indeed so, they were discovered.

There was no time to make sure. An instant's delay might be fatal. He leapt to his feet and made a blind rush, calling to Kiopo as he did so.