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A TIMID BRAVE 
 
 The Story of an Indian Uprising. 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM JUSTIN HARSHA, 
 
 AUTHOR OP "PLOUGHED UNDER," "THE LIKENESS op A PAI.ACB," BTO. 
 
 ' Ye whose hearts are fresh and simple, 
 Who have faith in God and nature, 
 Who believe that in all ages 
 Ever}' human heart is human, 
 That in even savage bosoms there are longings, 
 Yearnings, strivings for the good they comprehend noti 
 
 ******* 
 Listen to this simple story." 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS. 
 
 XEWYORK: iggg LONDON: 
 
 18 j ND '.0 AsTon PLACE. 44 FLEET STREET. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1386, ly 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, D. 0. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. PAO 
 
 A CURIOUS THEFT 5 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 A PRIVATE COUNCIL 15 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 THE PUBLIC COUNCIL 34 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 A CAPTURE 86 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 AN INDIAN COURTSHIP 46 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 JUDGE LYNCH ON THE BENCH 65 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 Is IT A RESCUE? 63 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 LITTLE WATTENA 73 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 ON TO THE AGENCY I.. , 81 
 
 909901 
 
ir CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. PAG* 
 
 AT THE AGENCY , 90 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 "A MOMENT'S JOY TO WAIL A WEEK" 100 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 A DECISION 110 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 " HALE FELLOWS, WELL-MET " 120 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 THE TIDE RISING 130 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 THE TIDE STAYED 138 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 AD CALENDAS GRJSCAS 145 
 
A TIMID ERA YE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A CURIOUS THEFT. 
 
 " Do not grieve so, my husband. What are a few 
 cattle to such a brave Maha as you ?" 
 
 She hung over his bowed head with more tenderness 
 than an Indian's wife is usually allowed to show. She 
 even ventured to smooth his brow and cheeks, on which 
 a half-formed rage was struggling with perplexity. He 
 did not resent her tenderness, nor did he reply at once. 
 His head bent farther down between his clenched fists, 
 and his deep sighs almost became sobs. 
 
 " Look at little Wattena playing at your knee," the 
 woman went on. " Wakanda has given her to us. He 
 has given us many more blessings. Let us pray to Him, 
 and ask Him to give us back our cattle." 
 
 " There is no God 1" the Indian muttered, fiercely. 
 " He would not let me and my race be wronged so. He 
 may exist for white Christians ; He does not for us." 
 
 His wife had spoken in the soft Indian dialect. He 
 had answered her in gruff English. She did not under- 
 stand a word of this language, not having enjoyed with 
 him the advantages of a training in a mission-school. 
 He had acted for several years as a guide and interpreter 
 to General Crook and other officers, and when he cursed 
 
6 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 either God or the whjtes he used the language in which 
 he jhiid learkjcd to swear. But his wife could catch the 
 meaning of his manner, if not of his words, and knew 
 tba ; , she nii.st be silent'.' ' 
 
 Little Wattena, who had been looking wonderingly 
 out of her dark eyes at her father, now began to wail. 
 
 " Yes," cried the Maha, speaking in the Indian lan- 
 guage, that his wife might understand, " the white chil- 
 dren can have gifts and good things, but the poor 
 papooses must wail and Aveep. Here is where the blow 
 falls heaviest. I have heard just such cries as these of 
 little Wattena in every Indian camp. We older ones 
 can stand poverty and crusts, but it is hard O God ! it 
 is hard for the children !' ' 
 
 He sprang up, kicking over the box on which he sat, 
 and went gloomily to the window. But he could not 
 endure the sight of the empty cow-sheds behind the 
 house, and turned back again. 
 
 " Wattena will cry for her cup of milk to-night," he 
 said, moodily ; '' and we will have only water to give 
 her. 1 had thought to sell two of the steers soon, and 
 put away the money to send her to school by and by. I 
 want to educate my daughter as much as any white man 
 does. But how can I ? ' 
 
 He was strangely calm. You would expect him to be 
 in a passion to storm and rave. If a white merchant 
 loses a yard of calico he is after the police immediately 
 to ferret out the thief. If a hundred dollars be taken 
 from the money-drawer, or if his family horse be stolon 
 from his barn, the whole city is aroused, and woo betide 
 the unfortunate criminal. But here was a man, with a 
 husband's pride and a father's love, robbed of nearly all 
 he had. The very food was taken out of his child's 
 mouth, and yet he was self -rest rained. He mourned 
 
A CURIOUS THEFT. 7 
 
 rather than raged. In spite of the pride of a man and 
 the fire of a half- civilized blood, he sighed rather than 
 swore. Here is a phenomenon that we need to look into. 
 
 It is true that when his wife first told him of the loss, 
 when he came home from the Agency, where he had gone 
 to buy bacon and sugar, he had been violent enough for 
 a few minutes. 
 
 u Who stole them ?" he cried, madly. 
 
 " The white men." 
 
 "When did they corned' 
 
 u About an hour after you left. They said they had 
 seen you up the road." 
 
 " Curses on them, so they did. They knew I was 
 away, and they dared to rob an unprotected farm-yard. 
 How many were there ?" 
 
 " Three. They rode up to the door, and asked for a 
 drink of water. 1 was terribly afraid of them, for I re- 
 membered my poor sister, Kathewana. I gave them a 
 drink. One of them tried to take hold of me, but I 
 caught up Wattena and ran into the house. They all 
 laughed at this, but I was glad to escape. I locked the 
 door, and stood out of sight, trembling. 1 saw them go 
 to the cattle-yard, and throw down the bars. The cows 
 and steers did not want to go away. The white men 
 cracked their whips, and struck them many cruel blows, 
 and the poor beasts bellowed piteously to be left at home. 
 Even little Wattena cried when she heard the noise." 
 
 Then he had stormed about, and called on Wakanda 
 for vengeance. He threatened to go to the agent, and 
 to the commander of the military post about twenty miles 
 away. He would show the whites that they were not 
 utter slaves, after all. 
 
 " Why not go ?" his wife had asked, innocently. 
 
 Then he had dropped upon the box, and covered his 
 
8 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 face with his hands. Why not, indeed ? There were 
 many reasons why such an expedition would be entirely 
 fruitless. Even supposing the agent willing to help him, 
 which was very doubtful, the thieves had, by that time, 
 escaped beyond the borders of the reservation, and the 
 agent's control over them was at an end. 'As to the sol- 
 diers, they were rendered powerless by the posse comi- 
 tatus act, and could not recover the property of Indians, 
 even when found in the hands of well-known thieves. 
 There was nothing for it but to submit patiently to this 
 new wrong added to the long list of infamies practised 
 against the unhappy Red Men. 
 
 Why not take down his rifle from the wall, yonder, 
 and pursue the thieves, and shoot them in their tracks \ 
 The Maha had a fine Kemington and plenty of car- 
 tridges supplied by the Government why should he 
 not use them to defend his property ? This would have 
 been your course and mine, but it was not thought of by 
 Noah, the brave. His wife did not suggest it to him. 
 They both knew better. A resort to arms would have 
 brought the soldiers down upon the whole tribe, and the 
 blood of Wattena, his wife, and of little Wattena, as well 
 as of countless disinterested and perfectly innocent per- 
 sons, would have flowed out upon the bright Nebraska 
 grass. 
 
 Why not appeal to the law \ In these United States 
 we glory in our freedom and justice. Ah, this was the 
 hardest part of it. Every oppressed creature of the 
 whole world can claim protection from our laws except 
 the native American. How this came about I will tell 
 you further on. But Noah knew it well. In some cases 
 he could be punished by law, but there was no case in 
 which he could appeal to it for safety and redress. He 
 was not a person. no Indian is before the law. 
 
A CURIOUS THEFT. 9 
 
 He had sat all the afternoon thinking of these various 
 possibilities. At last his wife suggested an expedient. 
 
 " Why not go to Faber's ranch, where our cattle have 
 been taken, and steal them back ?" 
 
 Ha, here was something practical ! 
 
 " A good plan, Wattena," he said, more cheerfully. 
 " It will do, at all events, to try. It is certain that they 
 have been taken to Faber's. He was the leader of the 
 gang. They will never imagine that I would dare pur- 
 sue them, and in the quietness of the night I can drive 
 them off. It surely is not wrong to steal back my own 
 property. The good missionary will never scold rne for 
 it. And if I cannot get them all, I can, at least, secure 
 the old cow, that little Wattena may have milk." 
 
 As if to confirm him in his resolution, the child was at 
 this moment sobbing from her corner : 
 
 "Milk! milk!" 
 
 This young Maha was by no means a weak-minded 
 fellow. As he stood up now in all the resolute energy 
 of a new purpose, he seemed every inch a man. He 
 was dressed in citizens' clothes, except that he wore 
 moccasins instead of shoes. A belt that his Wattena 
 had worked for him in bright beads encircled his waist. 
 A flaming red scarf was round his throat, and his straight, 
 coarse hair was knotted in one place round a small feather, 
 to show that he had a chief's blood in his veins. There 
 was something noble and dignified in his face in spite of 
 its dark hue, and its rough, irregular features. 
 
 Wattena, his wife, was one of those Indian women 
 whose faces are strangely fascinating. You would have 
 taken her for a Spanish lady, forced by poverty to ex- 
 posure to out-door weather, which deepened the orange 
 tint into a sombre but striking bronze. Her features 
 were regular and clearly cut, and would have been called 
 
10 A TIMID BRATE. 
 
 perfect save that her cheek-bones were high and her lips 
 a trifle thick. Her eyes exerted the main fascination of 
 her face ; they were large, dark, wondering, and in their 
 liquid depths rested an innocent trust. The attractions 
 of face and form of Indian women soon fade, but while 
 they last they place their possessors, in many cases, on a 
 level with the fashionable beauties of the gayest and 
 wealthiest society. "Wattena was clad in the cheapest 
 calico, and her long black hair was coiled loosely upon 
 her neck, but had she been dressed in silk, and gotten 
 up with the skill and taste of a trained maid, she would 
 have outshone many a distinguished belle about whom 
 the papers rave. 
 
 Her very presence brightened up the poor little home 
 that they had built for themselves. They had selected 
 a sightly spot on the reservation, and had toiled together 
 in building a small house. There were onty three rooms 
 in it, and they had been put together without much 
 thought of arrangement, but they seemed a perfect 
 paradise to the young couple. Indeed, their house was 
 much better than the tepees and dug-outs and rude 
 shanties in which the remainder of the tribe lived. Con- 
 sequently, they prided themselves not a little on their 
 residence, which would have seemed poor and scanty 
 enough to us. As for furniture, there was almost none. 
 They had to pay enormous prices to the Government 
 trader for everything they needed, and their slender 
 stock of funds had been exhausted upon a stove, a table 
 and a bed. They used boxes for chairs, and had no need 
 of dishes their bare cooking utensils being all that they 
 could afford. 
 
 Noah was soon ready for his expedition. He did not 
 condescend to any expression of endearment toward his 
 wife or child other than a glance, in which pride and 
 
A CURIOUS THEFT. 11 
 
 affection were mingled. He loved them as much as any 
 young man can love his wife and babe. lie proved that 
 love as I shall show as I go on with my story by a 
 sum lice which few white men have occasion to make. 
 But he was forbidden, by the customs of his race, to 
 show especial tenderness at partings, or joy at greetings. 
 
 As he went out he heard little Wattena still wailing, 
 and that nerved him for his work. The team of ponies 
 that he had driven that morning over to the Agency 
 were the only live-stock left upon the place ; and he 
 selected one of them, a sprightly, tough little roan mare, 
 to carry him to Faber's ranch. The sympathy between 
 an Indian and his live-stock of all kinds is very close, but 
 it is especially so with his pony and his dog. It reminds 
 one of that ardent affection which the Arabs entertain for 
 their splendid horses, and the quick responsiveness of 
 the latter to the wishes of the former. It is the same 
 with all nomadic and simple-hearted races. As you look 
 at an Indian pony it may seem lazy, stupid, and good- 
 for-nothing, but its master can inspire it with fire, 
 speed and endurance. This he does without whip 01 
 spur. In ordinary cases, it carries only the rope lasso 
 round its neck, its rider guiding and inspiring it bj 
 pressures of his knees and a few guttural monosyllables, 
 
 Noah's little roan was soon convinced that no ordinary 
 work was on hand. The nervous tension of her rider' f 
 muscles and the impatient nudges of his knees showed 
 her this. She broke into a quick, swift gallop and set- 
 tied down to what she knew would be a long run. A 
 similar transformation was wrought in Noah's thin, 
 mangy dog, which was allowed to follow. At home h 
 was sleepy and inactive, except when a chance traveller 
 passed that way, then he would snarl, with his tail be- 
 tween his lazy legs. But, as he now followed the roan 
 
12 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 over the crisp buffalo -grass, he seemed as noble a speci- 
 men of his race as his master and the mare were of theirs. 
 The three were so nearly alike that it required the free 
 air of the prairies and the glorious sense of unnoticed 
 liberty to bring out the nobility and spirit within them. 
 The traveller can see no sadder picture on the American 
 Continent than the group so common at the railway- 
 stations on the plains : a crushed, melancholy Indian, his 
 lazy, indifferent pony, and his starved, snarling dog. 
 Possibly a squaw with her papoose crouches in the back- 
 ground. It is a thrilling tableau of the effect of a long 
 policy of exaction and treachery upon a once proud and 
 independent race. 
 
 Noah straightened up his shoulders as he rode along. 
 He felt himself a man, as he traversed the valleys and 
 divides that his fathers had for centuries called their 
 own. There was only one road through the reservation, 
 and that led up to the Agency. There were many wind- 
 ing trails, but he was able to strike across the country as 
 the crow flies. It was a brilliant summer night. The 
 stars seemed so near that he could almost reach up and 
 pluck a handful of them. The glorious stretches of roll- 
 ing prairie swept away in every direction, while afar he 
 could see the glimmer of the radiant sky upon the sur- 
 face of the Missouri. The sod fairly sang under the 
 sharp blows of the roan's unshod feet, and Noah took a 
 long breath, and felt that he was doing right. 
 
 When he had gone a few miles he saw a figure ap- 
 proaching. He let the roan ease up her gallop, for his 
 sharp eyes had recognized the stranger. It was an 
 Indian woman, with a scarlet blanket over her head, and 
 a pair of quick, black eyes surmounting sad but comely 
 cheeks. 
 
 Noah said, as he stopped beside her, 
 
A CURIOUS THEFT. 13 
 
 " are you going up to the house ? It is well. Wattena 
 will welcome you. Any news ?" 
 
 " A company of soldiers are coming to-morrow to 
 hunt on the reserve." 
 
 She passed on with a squaw's peculiar, pigeon-toed 
 step. Poor little Kathewana ! Ruined by the white 
 man's perfidy and lust, she was now the disgraced victim 
 of the lowest soldiery. 
 
 Noah sighed as the roan sprang into her gallop again. 
 The dangers attending the coming of a band of soldiers 
 he very well knew. "We, in our comfortable homes, fear 
 nothing for the safety of our property and the honor of 
 our wives when soldiers or any company of strangers 
 camp near us. Why ? Think over that question a mo- 
 ment. 
 
 It was a ride of about eight miles to Faber's ranch, 
 just outside the southern line of the reservation. Swiftly 
 the little mare bore her master over that distance ; and 
 he, in his silent ride, made a brilliant picture so erect, 
 so easy, so well formed his head bare, and with his 
 touch of crimson, which the night could not hide, at his 
 neck. His heart was filled with misgiving and pain, but 
 he felt that he was doing nothing to break his Christian 
 vows in stealing back his own. Poor fellow ; it was his 
 only chance to recover his property. How could he tell 
 that it would bring terrible consequences upon him and 
 his tribe ? 
 
 He left his pony at a little distance from Faber's in- 
 closures, and crept noiselessly forward. The ranchmen 
 and cowboys were fast asleep, and an Indian knows how 
 to quiet dogs. There were herds of cattle grazing or 
 resting on the grass at a little distance, but he knew that 
 his stock would be in the in closure. If left free, they 
 would have taken the nearest trail home. He soon found 
 
14 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 them, and his first care was to rub his hand over their 
 flanks. Alas ! they had already been branded ! All 
 except the old cow. Thank Wakanda for that ! He 
 could take her, though he knew he would be strung up 
 like a dog if he touched a hair of the others. 
 
 " Little Wattena shall have milk," he muttered. 
 
 And then, quietly, through the brilliant, dewy night, 
 he drove the old cow homeward. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 A PRIVATE COUNCIL. 
 
 His return was, necessarily, slower. He had abundant 
 time for reflection, and his thoughts were by no means 
 pleasant or hopeful. When was all this robbery to end ? 
 He had gone to work he and Wattena, after being 
 married with a sincere desire to build up a home, and to 
 live usefully and respectably, as white people do. They 
 had selected a fruitful quarter section on the reservation, 
 and, after their house was built, they went to work cul- 
 tivating the fields with a will. Many laughed at them, 
 and said it was no use, that the white settlers around 
 would steal their crops, and drive off their stock, and 
 tear down their fences. Others said it was better just to 
 live in their tepees and dug-outs, for they would be re- 
 moved to the Indian Territory eventually, and to build 
 houses would only arouse the rapacity of the settlers, and 
 hasten the catastrophe. But Noah and Wattena thought 
 that it would do no harm to make a trial of living re- 
 spectably, and had set themselves resolutely about it. 
 And when little Wattena was born to them they had been 
 filled with new zeal. She should go to the mission- 
 school first ; after that she should have the advantages 
 of one of those Eastern schools that Noah had seen on 
 his journeys. He was strong and full of bravery ; Wat- 
 tena was glad to toil and save ; why should they not 
 prove an exception to the great mass of Indian life, and 
 
16 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 give their dear little daughter an education ? Noah knew 
 best what cheer and happiness that education would 
 bring ; but Wattena, in her wondering admiration of her 
 husband's mastery of the mysterious English, really 
 yearned for the advantages more. 
 
 But they had met with endless losses and disappoint- 
 ments. Not only were all the gloomy forebodings of 
 their friends, so far as the settlers were concerned, real- 
 ized, but hindrances that Noah had never imagined grew 
 out of the relation that the Indian sustains to the Govern-* 
 ment. Not being legally a person he could not make a 
 contract. If he wanted to bargain for the simplest 
 farming utensil he was compelled to find some white 
 man to represent him, and make the purchase in his 
 name. In these transactions he was sure to lose more 
 or less before all was settled. When he sold a pig or a 
 pony he was always cheated out of part of the price, and 
 as he could not appeal to any law, there was nothing for 
 it but to submit. He was required by Government regu- 
 lation to buy all his supplies of the trader at the Agency, 
 who put what prices he pleased upon his wares. So that 
 Noah rapidly found himself growing poorer and poorer, 
 in spite of his most frantic efforts. If he had received 
 one tenth part of the annuities that ought to come to 
 him, that were voted him every year by the Government, 
 he might have lived in luxury. But these had dwindled 
 into nothingness before his needy hand was reached. 
 And now the stealing of the few cattle he had, and their 
 being branded by Faber's men, had cut off all the earn- 
 ings of the past year, and left him in worse plight than 
 ever. 
 
 He was thinking this over for the hundredth time, 
 when he discovered a light in a little valley to the right 
 of his course. A cluster of tepees stoocl on the farther 
 
A PRIVATE COUNCIL. 17 
 
 hill, and Noah knew well enough what that light signi- 
 fied. It was a council-fire of the young men's party of 
 the tribe, and this was their headquarters, or rallying- 
 point. He was just in the mood to enjoy the oratory of 
 that band ; and, leaving the cow to make the best of her 
 way home alone, he turned his pony's head in the direc- 
 tion of the lighted circle. When he had approached 
 within a few rods he slipped off the roan's back, and 
 letting her take to the grass, he advanced among his fellow 
 Mahas. No surprise was occasioned by his coming, and 
 he was given a place in the crouching circle round a 
 si o \vly-dy ing fire. 
 
 There were, altogether, about twenty engaged in the 
 deliberations. They were mostly in their flannel shirt- 
 sleeves, with bare heads, and did not seem, at first 
 sight, a remarkably animated or interesting group. As 
 you studied them, however, you. were compelled to ad- 
 mire their earnestness and devotion to their purpose. 
 One of their number was gaudily dressed in a suit of high- 
 ly colored deer-skin, with all manner of tassels and orna- 
 ments of teeth and bone, and at his side hung a small, 
 cheap mirror, framed in pine. His name was Strong 
 Foot, and his dress indicated that he was prepared to 
 visit some young Indian girl with the hope of making 
 her his wife. He had probably just come from such a 
 delightful occupation. He was haranguing the circle of 
 squatting figures as Noah came up. 
 
 " Yes, I love my Little Star. I admit it, but that 
 makes me as firm as the rocks -above the Missouri in my 
 purpose. She is to me a star indeed ; I am following 
 the trail of light that she casts from her eyes. Do you 
 think she would want me to submit like a cowardly cur, 
 to be lashed by a master that I could easily destroy ? I 
 tell you, war is our only remedy, our only satisfaction. 
 
18 A TIMID BKAVE. 
 
 Far better fall upon the Wagha, * wreak vengeance on 
 them, and then take refuge in the hills. We can but 
 die there ; we are sure to die here. This is my opinion, 
 and I have not so great reason for hating the Wagha as 
 some of you have. I desire only to be true to my Indian 
 blood and to my Little Star." 
 
 He sat down amid a murmur of applause. After a 
 few moments, a square-shouldered fellow in ragged 
 clothes stood up, and said : 
 
 " I am of the opinion of Strong Foot. You know my 
 history well. Once I was dressed like him. Once I felt 
 his joy in life, and his pride to be looked up to by a 
 tender-hearted Maha girl. You all know that her 
 name was Kathewana. You all know how my little 
 flower was crushed under the cruel foot of the Wagha. 
 She thought she could deny the Wagha nothing. We 
 have all, too long, been impressed by the same belief. 
 What have I for all my love and hopes now ? Ashes 
 and bitterness ! I would forgive all and marry my 
 Kathewana, but you all know that her ruin has stolen 
 away her senses, and she is a mere plaything in the sol- 
 diers' hands. That my Maha blood could not stand. 
 It is hard enough to have a sweetheart ruined, but one 
 cannot think of such a thing with his wife. Long ago I 
 broke my mirror, and tore off the ornaments of my lover's 
 dress, and now I work in the fields and mourn in my 
 desolate tepee. I am for war !" 
 
 A more impetuous man now arose, and, with many 
 violent gestures, said : 
 
 " I am for the Wagha's blood. What has our great 
 Red Cloud and our wise Spotted Tail said but that war 
 is our only help ? They have urged all the tribes to meet 
 
 * White men. 
 
A PRIVATE COUNCIL. 19 
 
 in some well-chosen Western spot, and give battle to the 
 death to the insolent and infamous power that has slowly 
 been encroaching upon us.* Do not I know what that 
 power is ? Beside the sufferings you have endured in 
 com inon with me I have had to bear special trials. My 
 own mother died of a loathsome disease, caught from the 
 white man. Its poison still burns in my own veins. 
 Our whole tribe is filled with it. Of what use is my 
 miserable carcase on the earth ? Let me have the blood 
 of a few of the Wagha to cheer me as I pass into the 
 hunting-grounds of the future of which our fathers used 
 to talk, and 1 care not whether they be happy or not. I 
 am for the Wagha's blood." 
 
 There was a long pause after this speech. Many eyes 
 were turned toward Noah, but he did not move. At 
 length another of the group arose, and said : 
 
 " Our reservation is rich in soil and in minerals. Our 
 fathers have lived here, but what of that ? The settlers 
 want to drive us off in order to secure our farming land. 
 The ranchmen want to drive us off, to have our grazing 
 land, and the miners want to drive us off, that they may 
 sink their shafts into our gold and silver ore. The lies 
 they tell we cannot contradict. We are utterly at the 
 Wagha's mercy. Their great papers tell of our igno- 
 rance, laziness and poverty ; and by and by an army 
 comes to take us to the Indian Territory. For one, I 
 say, let us show our manhood let us go to war. But I 
 see Noah here. He is a young man, but is not of the 
 young man's party. 1 would like to hear his opinion." 
 
 Thus appealed to, Noah could not remain silent. He 
 slowly arose, and said : 
 
 * There is no fiction about this proposition of the great chiefs 
 named. They made it seriously and repeatedly. 
 
20 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 " I know that I am set down as a coward by yon all, 
 because I am not of the war party. My natural inclina- 
 tions would prompt me to join you. Have I not the 
 Maha blood ? Have I not the young man's fire ? Is 
 there one of you that has seen me turn pale in danger, 
 or stop in what I have undertaken ? Has the storm 
 ever kept me from going on my journey, or have I ever 
 hesitated to cross the Missouri on the floating ice-cakes, 
 because the current was swift and boisterous ? I think 
 you will not say I am a coward in these things. 
 
 " Why have I hesitated, and why do I hesitate now ? 
 T have had troubles to bear, as well as the rest of you. 
 The taint of poor Kathewana's ruin has fallen also upon 
 me. The poison of the white man's evil runs in my 
 own veins. I was on my way home from stealthily steal- 
 ing back one of my own cows when I saw the brightness 
 of your council-fire in the sky. I left the remainder of 
 my little herd in Faber's ranch. They are branded, and 
 so are lost to me forever. And with them have gone 
 the profits of a year's hard toil. My Wattena mourns in 
 our poor home because little Wattena wails. I have 
 milk for the little babe, but I am no nearer being able 
 to send her to school than I was before all the saving 
 and all the toil. 
 
 " Do you think, then, that I would not go to war 
 with you if 1 thought that would bring relief from our 
 troubles ? It is not my life that I count dear. I hold it 
 only as one of the prairie blossoms that may be crushed 
 under any foot and welcome. But I am not right to 
 bring ruin and death upon the other members of our 
 tribe. Wattena must share my fate, and would gladly 
 die at my side ; even little Wattena might be crushed 
 upon my breast, where she uttered her first wail, and 
 first began to breathe. But 1 can never give a voice to 
 
A PRIVATE COUNCIL. 21 
 
 bring the eharp piercing of rifle-balls to hearts that are 
 innocent of any desire for war. You know that the 
 Givut Father holds our whole tribe guilty for the faults 
 of any individual or any party of the tribe. Beside 
 tin's, you must know that war simply means death to us. 
 We are the weaker party, and must go down before the 
 well-trained regiments of white soldiers as the wild 
 grass goes down before the storm. Or, suppose that we 
 killed ten men for every warrior that we could muster ? 
 The Great Father would send ten more to avenge their 
 death. 
 
 " I have been among the "Wagha more than any of 
 you. I know their strength, and I know their inclina- 
 tions. They are very like the Red Men some are 
 good, and some are bad. The good Wagha desire to 
 help and protect us, but they know not how. They do 
 not realize that we cannot make a contract. They do 
 not know that we have no existence as persons before the 
 law. My plan is to live quietly and peaceably, tilling 
 our farms, and submitting to any wrong or indignity 
 until the sentiment in the .United States has so grown in 
 our favor that we may have the protection of law. It 
 will come. It is only a matter of time. Robbery and 
 beggary are hard to bear, but are they worse than death ? 
 Going to war will surely bring this latter upon us, but 
 abiding peacefully at our homes may insure safety. I 
 say, not the Wagha's blood, but his friendship ; not the 
 horrors of war, but the protection of law." 
 
 As he sat down one who had not spoken cried : 
 
 " The Wagha's friendship ! We have already too 
 much of it. Alas, it attaches itself rather to our stock 
 and property than to ourselves. He loves these, though 
 he does not love us." 
 
 This sally evoked the laughter of the group. It must 
 
22 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 not be imagined that Indians are the stoical and solemn 
 personages that Cooper and his followers have repre- 
 sented them to be. Their trials and wrongs have driven 
 them to a reserved and moody air before the white men. 
 But among themselves, they enjoy a laugh as much as 
 any one, though their mirth is neither maudlin nor bois- 
 terous. These hard-worked and grievously-robbed fel- 
 lows around the dying camp-fire responded gayly to the 
 touch of irony in the speaker's words, and even Noah 
 was compelled to smile, in spite of himself. 
 
 " The tire has burned low," Noah resumed, after a 
 moment, " and your council is about out. Let us post- 
 pone the decision of the matter until to-morrow. Then 
 the great council occurs with the agent, as you all know, 
 and we may hear some good news as to the intentions of 
 the merciful party of the Wagha. They may yet grant 
 us law. They may yet allow that we are men with the 
 same passions with themselves. What do we see some- 
 times on our prairies ? The clouds that we so much de- 
 sire pass our parched fields by, again and again. We 
 long, we pray, for the dewy wealth locked up in their 
 dark hearts. And at length it comes slowly, patter- 
 ingly at first ; but by and by with driven sheets of rain, 
 it moistens our soil and saves our crops. So will the 
 white man's mercy come. Let us wait. We will have 
 much to bear, but we will save our lives, and the lives 
 of countless innocent ones. Ha ! yonder comes the 
 morning. 1 must go on to my home and Wattena." 
 
 They all took his departure for a signal to disperse. 
 As he rode on through the trembling, uncertain glimmers 
 of the morning light, he was wondering if his predictions 
 would have any weight with the young men's party. 
 He knew their spirit and their determination. Would 
 they hurry on a collision with the ranchmen and settlers 
 
A PRIVATE COUNCIL. 23 
 
 around the reservation, and bring the military down upon 
 the un warlike portion of the tribe ? Noah had never 
 been at war with the whites, but he knew that it was 
 usually precipitated by a few hot-headed young men, such 
 as had been in council round that lonely, flickering fire. 
 He determined to put forth an honest effort on the mor- 
 row on the day, rather, that was just dawning to 
 reconcile the white men with the red. 
 
 As he rode up before his little inclosure he found the 
 cow anxious to be admitted. He must watch this one 
 remaining treasure now, for little Wattena's sake. It 
 would do to milk her, and so he went to the house for 
 the pail. 
 
 There was a candle burning in the little kitchen. He 
 had not noticed it until now. Something must be wrong 
 yes, there was his wife holding little Wattena in her 
 arms. 
 
 " I am so glad you are here," Wattena said. " Our 
 little waghta* is very sick. See how she burns with 
 fever. She has been calling you." 
 
 Noah took his hot and almost unconscious babe into 
 his arms, and, sitting down upon the floor, swayed back 
 and forth in the desolation of a new grief. Fathers, do 
 you not know how he suffered ? Have you ever felt the 
 parching breath of a fever- stricken child against your 
 cheek ? That little form was as comely to him as your 
 babes are to you. But what was he to do for a phy- 
 sician ? And how should he pay one, if found ? He no 
 longer believed in the medicine-men of his tribe ; he 
 occupied the anomalous position that many awakening 
 savages must, of desiring far more than his knowledge 
 and means would warrant. 
 
 * Blossom. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE PUBLIC COUNCIL. 
 
 To be sure, there was one recourse. The Government 
 provided a physician for the tribe. He had his head- 
 quarters up at the Agency, and was usually very willing 
 to prescribe for patients brought to his office. He had, 
 however, shown himself very reluctant to visit the sick 
 in distant parts of the reservation. Money could over- 
 come this reluctance, but with this powerful inducement 
 the members of the tribe were poorly provided. Would 
 he ride all the way to Noah's home to see little Wattena ? 
 It would do no harm to ask him ; and evidently some- 
 thing must be done immediately, or the little babe would 
 die. 
 
 " I must milk the cow first," Noah said, laying little 
 Wattena tenderly into his wife's arms. u Hear her 
 bellow ! It would not do to let the poor thing suffer. 
 Then, too, Wattena may want milk before I am back. 
 I will send the doctor to you immediately. He shall 
 hnve the bay pony, if he will not come otherwise. I 
 cannot be back to you until after the council. I pray 
 Wakanda that our little babe may be spared to us." 
 
 He stooped and kissed the fevered cheeks, and laid 
 his hand gently on his wife's head, and then went out. 
 He took a melancholy pleasure in placing a pail full of 
 milk in the little kitchen, that it might be handy if the 
 child needed it ; and then, mounting his fresh pony, he 
 started up to the Agency. 
 
THE PCDLIC COUNCIL. 25 
 
 There was one consideration upon which Noah placed 
 much weight. Both he and the doctor were members 
 of the church. With the Indian this profession was 
 made in real earnestness. He knew very little of the 
 intricacies of theology, and would have been completely 
 puzzled if he had been required to define his faith ; but, 
 in his simplicity of heart, he was trusting to the mercy 
 of the great Wakanda, as shown in the death of His Son. 
 He would often go out on the still prairie to pray. At 
 night he would look up at the brilliant stars, and think 
 that God's face was smiling in their light. On Sabbaths 
 he would hitch up his ponies and take Wattena over to 
 the mission-school, where the good Wagaza, or mis- 
 sionary, preached. He was extremely conscientious in 
 all his religious duties ; as, indeed, all Indians who have 
 sincerely turned to God are. That his mind was uncul- 
 tured, and his heart barred to many fanciful sympathies, 
 only prevented the entrance into them of the doubts and 
 suspicions as to divine truth that sadden and debase the 
 more favored white race. He took God to be as un- 
 questionable a reality as the singing brook, or the sweep- 
 ing prairie, or the majestic sky. 
 
 Consequently, he accepted the doctor's religious sin- 
 cerity as a matter of course. He had been puzzled more 
 than once to reconcile this with his unwillingness to take 
 even ordinary pains with the sick of the tribe, unless a 
 handsome present was forthcoming ; but the question 
 had never been concerned closely with his own home, 
 and so he had passed it by. He thought that the doctor 
 would surely ride over to see little Wattena, since both 
 he and Noah professed faith in the same Jesus who 
 went any distance to heal the sick. There was nothing 
 that Noah could think of to prevent him. The day was 
 one of those glorious glimpses of heaven that come in 
 
26 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 autumn to Nebraska and Dakota. Not a cloud was to 
 be seen. Far away in every direction stretched the 
 radiant, illimitable blue over the tumbling prairie. 
 Noah had never seen the ocean in a storm, hence he 
 could not appreciate the common comparison of the 
 prairies to a congealed sea. But there was something in 
 its graceful contours and storrn-worn divides that filled 
 him with a perpetual delight. He had longed for them 
 bitterly when he was away in the white man's cities, and 
 he knew that many of his race had died for love of them 
 when taken to the Indian Territory. 
 
 Koah was not making as good speed now as last night. 
 The bay pony was not so fast as the roan. Besides, he 
 was not filled with the passionate eagerness that he had 
 felt when going to Faber's ranch for his stolen property. 
 To be sure, he was anxious to get the doctor as soon as 
 possible, but there was not that impatient tension to his 
 muscles that could arouse his pony to great exertion. 
 His heart was with his little Wattena, and this gave an 
 irresolute position to his body to which the bay very 
 soon responded. She bore him along, therefore, at an 
 uneven gait, now springing into a gallop, and then re- 
 laxing into a meditative trot. Her rider was sadly re- 
 volving in his mind the chances of his sweet little child's 
 recovery. He knew almost nothing of diseases, but the 
 fever had proven most fatal to the Indian children. A 
 few had recovered, but the great majority had died. He 
 did not know whether this were through lack of medical 
 attendance or not ; he rather thought it was, because so 
 many of the tribe still clung to the medicine-men, and 
 refused to employ the white doctor. A sickening feel- 
 ing stole over his heart as he thought of the mere pos- 
 sibility that Wattena might die. How could he ever lay 
 
THE PUBLIC COUNCIL. 27 
 
 her away under the wild grass that she had so often 
 plucked with her baby hands \ Ah ! he must not think 
 of this. He must hasten to the doctor, and send him, 
 at any cost, to save the life of his little one. 
 
 The Agency buildings stood near the centre of the 
 reservation. There was a very comfortable two-story 
 frame-house for the agent. Of course, cut off as he was 
 from so many advantages of civilization, and with a 
 niggardly salary and perquisites of $10,000 a year, it 
 was only right to furnish him with a comfortable home, 
 even at the expense of the Indian's appropriations. The 
 trader's store was on an opposite corner, beside it was a 
 school-house used also as a carpenter-shop, for improve- 
 ments round the agent's place and for repairs of his fur- 
 niture. On every side were well-kept fields, upon which 
 the Government farmer expended all his care, impressing 
 Indian youths into his service as harvest hands, and 
 pocketing, with the agent, all the proceeds of the crops. 
 A blacksmith-shop was also kept up by the Government 
 for the convenience and gain of the agent. The Indians 
 did not shoe their ponies. They needed repairs for their 
 wagons, truly, but for these they were made to pay 
 handsomely in money or stock. 
 
 The doctor lived in a comfortable house that had been 
 built out of some unaudited Government appropriation. 
 Noah rode up to his door, and, having tied his horse to 
 the fence, went into his office. There he found the 
 doctor, tilted back in his arm-chair, examining the con- 
 tents of a recent mail. 
 
 " Will you go down to see little Watteua at once ?" 
 Noah asked, hurriedly. " She has the terrible fever. 
 Her cheeks burn like fire, and her blood rushes through 
 her ve>ns, She will die unless you go now." 
 
23 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 " What ! Ten miles down to your house \ Why, 
 Noah, I would never get back to the council, and my 
 professional duties require my presence there." 
 
 " I had nothing to give her," went on the agonized 
 father. u "What could I get, what can 1 send to her to 
 ease her fever and pain 2" 
 
 " Quinine might do," replied the doctor, as if in a 
 sort of query ; " but I ought to see her before saying 
 definitely. I am very sorry that my professional engage- 
 ments prevent my going so far." 
 
 " But I have a good pony thereat the door," cried the 
 father. " You may take her and ride down, or you 
 may keep her altogether, if you will only go. You must 
 save my little Wattena, if you can." 
 
 " You may leave the pony, and I will see if I cannot 
 go. Much obliged. I have to trust so many of your 
 tribe that I am glad to receive payment, for once, in ad- 
 vance." 
 
 Noah went out and patted his bay pony on the neck, 
 lie was sorry to part with her, for his team would now 
 be broken up, and how could he do his ploughing in the 
 spring ? More than this, he was attached to his ponies, 
 as only a solitary and deeply sympathetic person can be 
 attached to his fellow-toilers. But little Wattena must 
 be kept alive at all costs, and he knew that that was the 
 only way to induce the doctor to go to her relief. Hav- 
 ing taken farewell of the faithful animal, he watched 
 until the doctor rode off, and then made his way to the 
 council. 
 
 This was held in a large shed, built of cotton wood, 
 much warped now by storm and weather, but formerly 
 used as a storehouse for farm implements. On both the 
 building and the implements a former agent had made a 
 very handsome speculation. This was the largest room 
 
THE PUBLIC COUNCIL. 29 
 
 on the reservation, and was hence chosen for the coun- 
 cils of the tribe with the agent, or with such special 
 messengers as the Government sent out from time to 
 time. 
 
 About five hundred of the men of the tribe were 
 gathered round the building as Noah came up. Some 
 of them were decked out with feathers and ribbons, but 
 the majority wore, their rough working clothes. They 
 were by no means a disgusting body of men in appear- 
 ance. On the faces of all there was some intelligence, 
 and a few had as shrewd expressions as you would see 
 upon a body of white workmen of the same number. 
 There were three clearly marked parties represented. 
 First of all, there was the conservative party that clung 
 to old Indian ideas and customs. The members of this 
 were mostly old men, who desired a return to the rule 
 of the chiefs, held that medicine-men were the best phy- 
 sicians, and contended that all contact with the whites 
 was a disgrace and a hindrance. They favored all the 
 various Indian dances and feasts, and bewailed the good 
 old times, when hunting the dta* and machuf were the 
 most serious businesses of life. This party was gathered 
 on the sunny side of the building, and a few of the older 
 members of it crouched, like shrivelled mummies, against 
 the wall. From these the missionary and the educators 
 received the most serious hindrance, and by them the 
 young people, who had caught some of the ways of tho 
 whites, were most speedily encouraged to lapse again 
 into heathen darkness. 
 
 The second party was composed of the younger men 
 who desired peace. They saw that safety was in sub- 
 mission to the power of the dominant race, and they 
 
 * Buffalo. f Bear. 
 
30 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 hoped for the time when all men should stand on an 
 equality before the law. Noah was a fitting representa- 
 tive of this party. Unfortunately, they could muster 
 among their associates only a small number, compared 
 with the strong force composing their rival parties. 
 
 The war party was the third. The principles of this 
 appealed most strongly to the imagination. It was com- 
 posed largely of young men who gave no heed to the 
 consequences of their emotions, and desired only their 
 immediate gratification. The members were distin- 
 guished by their gay dress, and by their dislike of the 
 Wagha. Noah had belonged to them once, but was not 
 of their number now. How little did he realize that he 
 would soon be heartily in sympathy with them again, 
 and would engage upon a brilliant but fruitless contest 
 with the white soldiers ! 
 
 When the hour for the council came a small fire was 
 kindled in the centre of the shed ; the agent, surrounded 
 by the employes of the Agency, took his place on a 
 raised platform at one end of the building, and the 
 Indians crowded into the other portions of it. The 
 agent was a fat, well-fed man, very fond of beef and 
 sleep. He conducted himself with the highest dignity, 
 and when the pipe of peace had been duly circulated, 
 condescended to ask the Indians present what were their 
 complaints. 
 
 There was a long and tedious list of them. Some 
 spoke of their loss of stock, others of their lack of farm- 
 ing implements, and others of their poverty and hunger. 
 This and that treaty had been broken by the Government, 
 this and that had been done by the trader, and this and 
 that had been left undone by the farmer. The agent 
 dozed through most of it, his breakfast having been 
 
THE PUBLIC COUNCIL. 81 
 
 rather hearty, but he managed to utter a languid in- 
 quiry at stated periods : 
 
 4 'Anything else ?" 
 
 At last Noah arose to speak. His blood had been 
 burning in his veins all the time that these real wrongs 
 had been so simply told into such unheeding ears. Here 
 was a chance to speak an honest word for his race yes, 
 and for Wattena and the little sick babe and himself, and 
 he would not let it go by. He had promised himself 
 this one attempt to right the wrongs of so many years. 
 "What else could he do than make a speech on the matter ? 
 He might touch the agent's heart, and great good would 
 come of it. 
 
 " You have heard these complaints," he said, looking 
 the agent in the eye. " They are not mere fancies. I 
 rise to speak as the Wagha's friend. I have lived 
 among the white men, and 1 know them better than any 
 of these. You know that I have been faithful and true 
 to them. Why should I not speak plainly and boldly 
 then ? The eagle that has not stolen carrion need not 
 fear to face the sun. " 
 
 He spoke slowly, and in the Maha dialect, that all 
 present might understand. Indians are natural orators, 
 and !Noali was a fine specimen of his race. He was tall 
 and strongly made, and he had now thrown back his shoul- 
 ders and drawn himself up to his full height. His faco 
 was suffused with animation, and his slow, graceful gest- 
 ures gave an unconscious emphasis to his words. He 
 gradually came to use the language 'of the chiefs, which 
 is different from the ordinary dialect, being more meta- 
 phorical and select. 
 
 " The Great Father allows us annuities," he went on. 
 " Every member of our tribe ought to receive twelve 
 
32 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 dollars in money every year. Where are the annuities 
 for the past year ? Where is the money that should have 
 come to us the year before this ? Has some hawk 
 snatched it from, the messenger's pockets ? We have 
 received not one cent for five years. The Omahas are 
 promised eight dollars apiece each year, but they have 
 handled the money of the Great Father only once in nine 
 years, and then the amount was one dollar and a quarter 
 per member. Why is this f ' 
 
 " I haven't seen any of your money," the agent re- 
 plied, sullenly. 
 
 " We are told that our money goes to support the 
 reservation. Out of our annuities the agent and the 
 farmer and the doctor and the blacksmith are paid. 
 Why should we need an agent \ Did we not live before 
 you came ? Were not our fathers content and happy on 
 these prairies arid among these hills \ We never asked 
 for an agent. The flocks of brant do not trouble man 
 to show them where the feeding-places are. You say 
 you have come to protect us from the settlers and ranch- 
 men. Did you protect Great Horse, who was shot at 
 his tepee-door last winter \ Did you protect Kathewana, 
 who was shamefully betrayed, and now is tossed about 
 by the soldiers as the wild thistle-seed is tossed by the 
 winds ? Can you even get us back our stock when once 
 the white men have stolen it ? Before we had an agent 
 we had food ; now, we and our little ones starve. You 
 protect us as I have seen the eagle protect the coyote 
 pups out there on the prairie. Their mother has run 
 away to find them food somewhere in the snow, and the 
 eagle, with her savage brood, have spied them. See ! 
 4The old bird corners them in a hollow in a hillside. 
 They raise their faces to her, and snap and whine. And 
 while they tremble and crouch, the young birds pounce 
 
THE PUBLIC COUNCIL. 33 
 
 upon their backs, stab out tlieir eyes with their sharp 
 bills, and tear out their hearts with their savage claws. 
 So have you protected us !" 
 
 A murmur went round the council, and the agent 
 shifted himself in his chair, but made no reply. Noah 
 paused a moment, and then said : 
 
 " The annuities of the Great Father are not charities. 
 We would scorn to receive your gifts. I found that the 
 white people do not know the truth on this point. Our 
 fathers have sold you land, and we ought to receive our 
 pay. The annuities are the interest on the great sum 
 that is really ours to pay for our land. Why have we 
 riot a right to our money ? Some of us have ploughed 
 with wooden sticks hardened in the fire, and reaped with 
 butcher-knives, because we had no money.* How can 
 the Great Father expect us to support ourselves and ad- 
 vance to the ways of the white men under these circum- 
 stances ? Will the ants toil forever to build their houses 
 of sand if the Missouri continues to overflow its banks to 
 retard their work, or sweep it all away ? We pay our 
 farmer out of our annuities, we must give him our work, 
 and pay him again for the grain we have helped him to 
 raise. It is the same with our blacksmith." 
 
 Poor Noah was about to say that it was the same with 
 the doctor, but at that moment this important individual 
 walked in pompously, and the words died on the orator's 
 lips. What if he were to be angry and refuse to save 
 little Wattena ? Why was he there at all at this mo- 
 ment ? He could hardly have made all the distance to 
 his house and back again in that time. Noah's heart 
 gave an agonized leap, and in an instant he forgot all the 
 arguments he was about to urge upon the agent that the 
 
 * All these statements are proven by the official records. 
 
34 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 white man's law might be extended over the reservation. 
 For a moment everything was dark before him, and 
 then he heard one of the war party, who had sprung to 
 his feet, taking up his complaint, and threatening the 
 agent with death if the wrongs mentioned were not 
 remedied. There was a great uproar, in the midst of 
 which Noah withdrew unnoticed. 
 
 "When he got out into the air he was almost beside 
 himself with grief and eagerness. He ran to the doc- 
 tor's stables, and there was the bay pony in a stall, per- 
 fectly dry and unwearied. His first impulse was to seize 
 her and ride away. But a man in the stable told him to 
 be off, and he slowly went out. 
 
 But he must see how it was at home, and he hastened 
 feverishly over the whole ten miles. The outlines of the 
 valleys and the variegated bunches of buffalo-grass had 
 no beauties for him on that homeward trip. He drew his 
 breath more fiercely as he went on, and he burst in at 
 the kitchen-door, and flung himself down before his wife 
 in an agony. 
 
 The doctor had not been there, and little Wattena was 
 rapidly growing worse. The poor mother had held her 
 every moment, and the hot tears were rolling down her 
 cheeks. The babe stretched out her hands to her father, 
 and he took her. This would give Wattena a chance to 
 bathe her face. And what a comfort it was to hold the 
 hot, restless child to his breast ! "Why had he not ac- 
 companied the doctor to his home ? Were the claims of 
 his race more important than the claims of his family ? 
 At length his wife broke in upon these distressing medi- 
 tations : 
 
 " Would it not be well to go to the good Wagaza ?* 
 
 Missionary. 
 
THE PUBLIC COUNCIL. 35 
 
 He, surely, can help us, and give medicine to our poor 
 child." 
 
 To be sure ; why had he not thought of that before ? 
 Noah gave back the child to her mother, and, taking out 
 the only pony he had left, he rode off in haste to the 
 mission. Here was a help that would be freely given. 
 That was, in itself \ a comfort ; but would it be as 
 efficient as the assistance of the regular doctor would 
 have been ? He must hasten on and see. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A CAPTURE. 
 
 MEANWHILE down at Faber's some things had been 
 going on that must be described. A "Western ranch is a 
 place sui generis. One is very like another, but any one 
 is greatly dissimilar to anything else in the world. This 
 one, of which the Faber brothers were proprietors, was 
 a very good representative of its class. 
 
 The house itself was a low wooden shanty of three 
 rooms, including a cupboard. The walls were very 
 strongly made of undressed poles stuck into the ground, 
 and heavy lumber, carted at great expense from the 
 nearest railway station. The roof was flat, and covered 
 by about a foot of earth, in which the grass and the wild 
 flowers were growing. A window of a single sash in 
 each room and a heavy door completed the architectural 
 features. As to internal ornaments, a table and a half 
 dozen stools, a number of rumpled blankets, and endless 
 Texas saddles were the principal items. A few rifles 
 hung on the walls, and in one corner was a stack of 
 antelope and elk horns waiting for artistic mounting. 
 A dozen dogs prowled around, mostly of the greyhound 
 species, and evidently possessing no little sagacity, speed 
 and fierceness. 
 
 The Faber brothers, owning the place and the herds of 
 cattle out upon the hills, were rough, black-whiskered 
 men, kind enough in their way, but very eager to be rich, 
 and very bitter in their hatred of the Indians. They had 
 
A CAPTURE. 87 
 
 an eye upon the fertile lands of the reservation, and were 
 by no means indifferent to the un worked silver deposits 
 in the hills of its northwestern extremity. They had 
 been particularly active in spreading reports unfavorable 
 to the Indians, and many a dispatch in the Chicago 
 Times or New York Tribune had its origin with them. 
 They added fuel to every fire of contention that arose 
 between the settlers and the Indians, and did everything 
 in their power to cause a removal of the tribe, that the 
 white men might rush in to possess their land. A half- 
 dozen long-haired cowboys were in their employ, every 
 one with a revolver at his hip, and they were ready to 
 second any movement made in the direction of despoil- 
 ing their Red neighbors. 
 
 It was on the afternoon of the glorious autumn day of 
 the council. The Faber brothers, distinguished as Joe 
 and Pete, were standing in one of the outside inclosures 
 of the ranch discussing the possibilities of getting back 
 the cow that Noah had taken. 
 
 " The cussed Injun has got her, sure," Joe was say, 
 ing. " No one else would have known enough to taka 
 her instead o' any other." 
 
 " But I thought you said you branded her," answered 
 Pete. 
 
 " 1 did say it. An' I did brand the cussed crittur. 
 Though she scrooched so that the iron didn't make a 
 very deep mark. Her hair is singed, though her hide 
 may not be burned very deep." 
 
 "If we can only show the brand we are all right," 
 said Pete. "We can prove that he stole her, and so a 
 pretty excitement can be stirred up. It would sound 
 well in the papers as that the Malia is risin' and perpe- 
 tratin' robbery and cold-blooded murder on the poor set- 
 tlers." 
 
38 A TBIID BRAVE. 
 
 " That's our policy," replied his brother. " We must 
 push it. 'Tain't no use mincin' matters when there's a 
 hundred thousand acres o' good land in the question, 
 and forty payin' mines. We've got to get the damned 
 Injuns removed, aiid we must get up a report o' massacre 
 and uprisin' to do it." 
 
 " But can't we do somethin' startling?" said Pete. 
 " The stealin' o' cattle don't stir the Injuns up as it 
 ought to. They take it altogether too quietly. Can't 
 we do somethin' to bring on an encounter between the 
 bucks an' the soldiers ? Of course we would be all 
 right. We would be the poor, inoffensive parties as 
 needs protection and sympathy from the Government. 
 No one would blame us." 
 
 (C That's the right position to take. The Injuns stand 
 in our way. They don't improve the soil. They don't 
 advance civilization. They don't do nothin' right. 
 'Tain't in 'em to. They're only dogs in the manger. 
 They're only good when dead. We ought to have their 
 land, because we'd cultivate it leastways, we'd let our 
 stock run over it. Anyway, we'd work the mines, an' 
 got rich if we could only get the Red devils out of the 
 way." 
 
 " But, come, let's have supper," said Pete, who was 
 always a hungry man. 
 
 The cowboys took turns in preparing the meals. One 
 of them had now arranged the tin plates and cups upon 
 the table around a huge dish of fried pork, a pan of 
 heavy biscuit, and a pot of black coffee. Two jugs, 
 also, were present, and formed a very necessary addition 
 to a ranchman's feast ; one contained whiskey, and the 
 other molasses, or u larrup," as the cowboys call it. To 
 this meal the Faber brothers sat down, and were joined 
 by four of the cowboys, two of their number being 
 
A CAPTURE. 39 
 
 always left out on the range to watch the cattle. There 
 was very little ceremony observed, the men eating 
 heartily and fast, shovelling the hunks of crisp pork into 
 their mouths with their knives, and gulping down great 
 masses of sour biscuit. The " larrup " was freely used 
 to assist the swallowing, and when a man was satisfied he 
 took a cup of raw whiskey to assist the digestion. 
 
 AVhen all had pushed back their stools, Pete Faber 
 said to one of the boys : 
 
 " Sandy, you catch a broncho, and ride down to Raw- 
 hide. Spread the report all the way that the cussed 
 Mahashas risen, an' beenstealin' our stock. D'ye hear ? 
 Make it strong, Sandy. 'Tain't no call to mince mat- 
 ters. An' when you git to Rawhide have the agent 
 telegraph to the Omaha and Chicago papers. Tell him. 
 one o' yer best yarns, Sandy. Massacre an' bloodshed, 
 an' settlers fleein, an' all that, you know." 
 
 " Trust me for that, damn it," replied Sandy. Now, 
 Sandy was a huge, loose-jointed Missourian, with very 
 red hair, and very sore eyes, and very apparent streams 
 of tobacco-juice running down at the corners of his 
 mouth. He was noted as a fine rider, a great quarreller, 
 and a dead shot. A particularly beautiful pearl-handled 
 revolver was at his hip. He wore the usual leather 
 pants, flannel shirt, and wide sombrero of the cowboys, 
 and cut by no means an ungainly figure at a distance 
 when he was on his favorite broncho, a spiteful, wall- 
 eyed, gray stallion. 
 
 AVhen it was known that Sandy was going down to the 
 railway terminus the other cowboys crowded around 
 him, and gave him their messages. There was much 
 swearing and coarse talk. At one time there was danger 
 of a fight, and revolvers were even drawn, but this 
 was so common an occurrence that it aroused no particu- 
 
40 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 lar notice. Everything was finally settled amicably, and 
 Sandy was soon on his way toward Rawhide. 
 
 The radiant twilight had now drawn on. A steady 
 wind was blowing from the south, reminding the Fabers 
 of the trades, for they had once been sailors. They 
 stood watching the strong leaps of the broncho bearing 
 Sandy on his mission. The magnificent and illimitable 
 blue of the heavens had no attraction to them, nor did 
 they notice the brilliant meltings of many tints in the 
 western sky, or the coming out of dim and timorous stars 
 as the twilight advanced. They were wondering why 
 they could see Sandy so long, and why he and his horse 
 seemed to lose little in size as they hurried away. They 
 knew it was some mysterious property of the high atmos- 
 phere of the West, and they had often noticed it before, 
 yet it came to them with new force now. He was mak- 
 ing a bee-line for Rawhide, there being neither road nor 
 trail to guide him ; now he would suddenly disappear in 
 a valley, and again he would be seen sweeping along the 
 sharp edge of a divide, with the tinted amber of the 
 horizon under his saddle-girths, but he seemed to be 
 leaving no distance behind him ; in fact, at moments, 
 he seemed to be coming back again. And there were 
 times when the Fabers almost thought they could have 
 hailed him. At length, however, he disappeared sud- 
 denly, as if blotted out cf existence in a twinkling, and 
 the brothers, heaving a sigh of mystery, turned to look 
 at their stock. 
 
 There was a great herd of them. They had been 
 driven in a little closer to the ranch as the night came 
 on. Some were lazily cropping the buffalo-grass, some 
 were bellowing moodily, and others had lain down 
 fatigued after the day's tramp upon the range. Two 
 cowboys on their ponies were watching them, and the 
 
A CAPTURE. 41 
 
 sparks from their pipes, fanned by the wind, made a 
 touch of color in the gathering dun of evening. To the 
 west the skies were still flooded with the brilliancy un- 
 matched by the sunset of any other part of the world. 
 But from the east and south, where the cattle lay, the 
 creeping shadows were coming. Moment by moment 
 the great, broad horns, and huge, square bodies of 
 the Texan steers became less distinct, until at last 
 they were mere motionless patches in the darkness and 
 silence. 
 
 Yes, and there was something else beside the shadows 
 creeping among them. The brothers saw it, and had 
 been watching it. "Was it an Indian ? Only an Indian 
 dare go among wild cattle on foot, and even then there 
 is great danger. The cattle, so used to seeing men on 
 horseback, will fly at one walking, and trample him to 
 pieces. To be thrown from his pony in a herd fe almost 
 certain death to a cowboy. But if this be an Indian, it 
 is unaccountable that the boys do not see him, and pierce 
 him with balls. Ah, there is more color about the head- 
 gear of this creeping figure than a buck would be likely 
 to wear ; it must be a woman yes, it is Kathewana. 
 
 She came up slowly but boldly to the ranch. She 
 was a frequent visitor there. On her way to or from 
 the military post she was accustomed to stop there for 
 food or a night's shelter. She had recently left Noah's, 
 and was now on her way to the post. She was hungry, 
 and asked the brothers sullenly for food. 
 
 " Be off with ye," said Joe. " "We've lost enough 
 by you and yourn. Here's one of our best cows stole 
 by that, cussed brother-in-law o' yourn. Git out o' the 
 ranch, or I'll set the dogs on ye !" 
 
 " Wait a minute !" said Pete, whose mind seemed to 
 have grasped something. " If ye don't mind, Joe, I'd 
 
42 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 like ter give her a bite. Mebbe I can work a little scheme 
 I have in my head through her." 
 
 " Oh, I don't care a cuss. Give her what she likes, 
 only don't waste the whiskey on her. An' don't let the 
 boys know as she's around, or they'll git her drunk, and 
 make a fool o' her." 
 
 "I'll watch her," said Pete. "Now ye go in, 
 Kathewana, and take some meat an' biscuit." 
 
 "What in the devil's name are ye after, Peter?" 
 asked his brother, when she had gone in. 
 
 " Why, I want ter to do somethin' etartlin', as I said 
 awhile back. I'm tired o' foolin' around. Here we are 
 wastin' month after month, an' year after year, and 
 never gettin' no nearer to havin' the Injuns' reserve. 
 The settlers are cornin' in, and when the Injuns are 
 finally removed, there'll be more o' the whites to divide 
 up the diggin's and land with. Now, I'll tell you what 
 I think. Let's make a bold push. Let's find out o' this 
 squaw where the cussed buck, Noar, is, and let us catch 
 him an' hang him fer a cattle thief. What d'ye think 
 o' that?" 
 
 " Cussed good plan," said Joe, rolling his tobacco-cud 
 around in his cheek. " You ought ter 'a been a general, 
 Pete. Yer a cuss to plan, an' a cuss to fight." 
 
 " Yery well, then ; I'll go in an' manoeuvre the 
 maiden. You git a couple o' the boys ready with four 
 bronchos, an' we'll be right off." 
 
 This expedition suited the temper and tastes of those 
 wild ranchmen exactly, and in a very few moments Joe 
 had the bronchos ready, with himself and a couple of 
 their men already in saddle. Pete soon came out, and 
 jumped upon the pony reserved for him, and cried : 
 
 " Couldn't be better, boys. Noar has gone to the 
 mission for the missionary. Leastways, Kathewana says 
 
A CAPTURE. 43 
 
 Wattena was goin' to send him when lie came home from 
 the council. O' course he's gone. His papoose is sick. 
 Cuss him, we'll make him sicker than any papoose ever 
 was if we can catch him !" 
 
 Thev turned their horses' heads toward the reserva- 
 tion, and rode swiftly away, followed by a troop of dogs. 
 The stars had now come out in such profusion that they 
 could easily find their way. Pete took the lead, it being 
 his scheme upon which they were engaged, and he was 
 immensely important in feeling and attitude upon his 
 h'ne pony. Indeed, the Fabers were noted for the 
 strength and swiftness of their bronchos, and, as they 
 swept along on their stern mission that night, the very 
 horses seemed to enter into the impatience and ferocity 
 of their masters. 
 
 And fortune, for once, was on the side of the assailant 
 and evil-hearted party. They had barely got into con- 
 cealment in the place where Pete thought they would 
 intercept Noah on his way home, when a solitary horse- 
 man was seen approaching their hiding-place. TV hat 
 was the matter ? Why was Noah alone ? Could not the 
 good Wagaza accompany him home to save the poor 
 little Wattena ? Would these cruel men prevent even 
 the father from going to nurse his little one back to life 
 and strength ? Oh, they have sprung out of their hid- 
 ing-place. They have surrounded him, and made him a 
 captive. The roan has been stopped in her brisk gallop, 
 and Noah has been rudely called back from a meditation 
 of sadness and foreboding. 
 
 u Will you go with us, ye damned Injun ?" Pete was 
 asking. " Will you go with us quietly, or shall we tie 
 you to your pony ?" 
 
 " I will go," said Noah, sullenly. 
 
 Why did he not make a struggle of it ? Why did he 
 
A TIMID BUAVE. 
 
 so quietly submit to their arrest ? Was all the manhood 
 'crushed out of him ? Could he so easily forget the poor 
 little babe that was tossing at home, and sobbing his 
 name, in the agonies of the fever ? Ah, he was not yet 
 ready for resistance ! The war party could not yet claim 
 him as a convert. He still thought it better to endure 
 any individual wrong and suffering rather than precipi- 
 tate war between the soldiers and the innocent of his 
 tribe a war which could have only one ending. 
 
 So he went along with them quietly. He could not 
 imagine what the purposes of the ranchmen were, but 
 he did not think they meant to kill him. Even if they 
 should take his life, he thought it was better to die with 
 a clear conscience than to resist and bring death upon a 
 large number of his tribe, and, after all, only be shot. 
 Did not his Christian principles teach him to suffer any 
 personal injury rather than wrong others ? Wakanda 
 E-zhi-ga* had acted in this way, and he felt glad to fol- 
 low His example. His heart sank within him, and he 
 felt the peculiar, sickening sensation brought on by deep 
 misery, when he thought of little Wattena.. Oh, how 
 she would call for him ! How anxiously his wife would 
 look for him, and strain her ears to catch the first sound 
 of the roan's sharp gallop. But he could not go to them, 
 and their hope must die. He could but commend them 
 to the good Wakanda, and to the skill of the missionary. 
 For he had succeeded in finding the Wagaza, thank God 
 for that ! and he had promised to ride over to Wattena 
 in an hour. All might still be well ; his babe might re- 
 cover, and he might be able to escape, or the agent 
 might interpose for him, and secure his liberation. At 
 all events, he quietly put the whole matter into 
 
 * The Son of God. 
 
A CAPTURE. 45 
 
 Wakanda's hands and felt strong and willing for any- 
 thing. 
 
 The roan had no difficulty in keeping up with the 
 bronchos, swift and tireless as they were. Just as the 
 midnight stars wheeled into place the party arrived at 
 the ranch. Noah's arms were tied behind him, and he 
 was placed in a strong cupboard, with which the ranch 
 was provided, and the door locked upon him. The 
 Fabers thought there was no danger of an immediate 
 pursuit, and had determined to wait until the next day 
 at noon before starting for the scene of the hanging. 
 They would be required to go some miles before they 
 could find a tree large enough for their purpose. Mean- 
 while, they wrapped themselves in their blankets, and 
 lay down upon the bare boards for a few hours' sleep. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 AN INDIAN COURTSHIP. 
 
 THAT same afternoon Strong Foot had dressed himself 
 with particular care to pay a visit to the little maiden he 
 loved. The beautiful sunset, so meaningless to the 
 Fabers, had been full of bright hopes and images to him. 
 He had walked gayly over the grass, his looking-glass 
 dangling at his side, and had disdained, in true Indian 
 fashion, to notice any of the people whom chance threw 
 in his way. He was compelled to go near the camp of 
 the soldiers, whom Kathewana had mentioned as coming 
 to the reserve to hunt, and they had hailed him with 
 derisive shouts, but he had not even looked in their 
 direction. Of course he knew how many there were of 
 them ; nqplndian would fail to discover that, though he 
 had not looked upon one of their faces, nor seen one of 
 their figures. But he was on his way to his little love, 
 and not even a friendly invitation would have induced 
 him to exchange a word, much less a disdainful chal- 
 lenge. 
 
 Little Star was a bright-faced, petite maiden, with very 
 deep eyes, and a sweet, soft voice- She had evidently 
 prepared herself with great care for the coming of her 
 lover, and what few stray bits of ribbon, of all colors, 
 she possessed were arranged promiscuously in her shin- 
 ing black hair. Her dress was of the cheapest calico, 
 and was made with very little taste ; yet it could not en- 
 tirely destroy or hide the charms of a dainty and well- 
 
AN INDIAN" COURTSHIP. 47 
 
 rounded figure. She had attended the school at the 
 mission, and had grasped a few ideas of personal clean- 
 liness, a thing of which the great majority of the women 
 of the tribe were stupidly ignorant. Because of this 
 schooling she insisted that the courtship, pressed with so 
 much vigor by Strong Foot, should be conducted on 
 something like Christian principles. It is astonishing 
 how quickly the maidens of a half -civilized race take up 
 with the bewitching luxury of flirtation. Other court- 
 ships of the tribe were still carried on after the old 
 heathen fashion of barter and sale, with an unromantic 
 willingness on the part of the bride. Little Star deter- 
 mined to have all this remedied. And she did her part 
 well, though, unknown to her, Strong Foot and her 
 father had arranged a financial transaction suspiciously 
 like the old traditions of the tribe. 
 
 The home of the maiden was rather an inferior affair. 
 It consisted of a dug-out in the side of a hill, with a large 
 tepee staked before it. A mass of bedclothes of various 
 hues, and much the worse for weather, was piled in one 
 corner of the dug-out portion ; while the outer apart- 
 ment, as being in some sense the parlor for th reception 
 of company, was adorned with a few bundles of well- 
 dressed furs. The cooking was done out of doors in fair 
 weather ; in bad weather there is a strong suspicion to 
 show that very little cooking was indulged in. At all 
 events, the abode was a very good specimen of the home 
 of an Indian who is afraid of removal to the Indian Ter- 
 ritory, and does not consider it worth while to build a 
 snug house. 
 
 On this particular evening Little Star had manoeuvred 
 to have an unusually bright fire built before the tepee. 
 Both her father and mother had noticed this, and knew 
 very well what it indicated. And both were by no 
 
48 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 means displeased. The mother admired Strong Foot as 
 a brave and well-built Maha, who would properly brow- 
 beat and domineer his squaw. The father had the 
 promise of three ponies and three cows, as a wedding- 
 present from his new son-in-law, and that acted as a magic 
 magnifier of the young man's advantages. Consequently, 
 when he put in an appearance, he was received with great 
 cordiality by the parents. Even Little Star, on this par- 
 ticular evening, relaxed her usual coquetry, and nodded 
 and smiled when he sat down before the fire. This was 
 the extent of the tenderness shown on either side during 
 the evening. 
 
 " And what think you of the council ?" asked Um- 
 panuga,* the father of Little Star. 
 
 "It was the same old story," said Strong Foot. 
 " The same demands were made from our side, and the 
 same indifferent silence preserved by the agent. In my 
 opinion, there is only one recourse. We must go to 
 war, and show ourselves Mahas. " 
 
 " What prevents you going to war?" asked Um- 
 panuga. " Your party is strong and fiery, and the 
 white soldiers are not far off. Why not strike them a 
 blow ? I am an old man, but I can die. I could rather 
 die in the good old ways of my fathers than turn Chris- 
 tian. I would rather die in war than in peace." 
 
 " Our party is all ready. But we are held back by 
 the remainder of the tribe. Some of the older ones are 
 content to let the present continue as the past has been. 
 Some of the younger members, like !N"oah, have turned 
 Christian, and we hear nothing but peace and self-sacri- 
 fice from them. So that the hands of the war party are 
 tied." 
 
 * Sacred elk ; this is the meaning of this honored Indian name. 
 
AX INDIAN COURTSHIP. 49 
 
 " Wait a little longer," replied the older man. 
 " Noah will not ahvnys be so timid and base. There is 
 the fire of the wolf in him. He is subdued by hunger. 
 But the wolf will some day snarl and show his teeth, 
 and bite." 
 
 So they talked on. They were joined, from time to 
 time, by other members of the war party, until, at 
 length, quite a little company had gathered round the 
 snapping fire. Wood was plenty at the heads of the 
 little ravines of the reservation, though the trees were 
 kept small by the prairie fires. The cottonwoods grew 
 to the greatest size, but did not make such good fuel as 
 the wild thorn. Piles of this latter were at hand, and 
 the young men threw on frequent armfuls to keep the 
 snapping, glowing fire in the best condition, both for 
 light and heat. The conversation was animated, and, 
 for the most part, mirthful ; though, at times, they dis- 
 cussed some phase of their relation to the whites, and 
 then they became sullen and belligerent. Their hunting 
 and fishing excited most interest. The wild blood was 
 still in their veins, and they could not tear themselves 
 from the sports of their ancestors. However, they took 
 as much interest in their stock and crops as you could 
 expect from those who cannot tell what moment they 
 will be robbed of a part or the whole of their posses- 
 sions. Noah was frequently laughed at, as a half- 
 Wagha, who was afraid to show himself a Maha. This 
 ridicule did not please old Umpanuga, who tried, more 
 than once, to check it. At last he said : 
 
 " You are doing Noah wrong. He is as brave as any 
 of you. Do you know how he came to have his name ?" 
 
 " No," they cried, in chorus. What camp-fire is 
 complete without a story ? The Arabs, we are told, 
 Bpend hours crouching beside a little blaze, on their vast 
 
50 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 deserts, and listening to mystical narratives. In fact, 
 all the nomadic tribes of the world, and all races of 
 mankind, in their nomadic and pastoral state have, from 
 time immemorial, passed the hours of the early night re- 
 hearsing tales of wonder and adventure. The Indians 
 are not an exception to the rule. The old men of the 
 tribes are skilled story-tellers, and delight all listeners 
 with their simple and fervid recital of hunts and battles 
 and personal adventures. 
 
 Umpanuga's proposal to "tell the story of the giving of 
 a name to Noah was hailed, therefore, with eager pleas- 
 ure. Every Indian child or youth is named from some 
 peculiar circumstance or incident connected with his 
 early years, or from some distinguishing personal mark or 
 feature. Few of the young men present, if any, knew 
 what was to be associated with the name Noah. They 
 regarded it as something entirely outside their ordinary 
 atmosphere, just as the person bearing it was unique and 
 unexplainable in his character and feelings. Umpanuga, 
 therefore, eased himself back on a bundle of furs that 
 Little Star had placed for his comfort, and thus began his 
 narrative : 
 
 " When Noah was a boy he went to live with a white 
 settler down on the Missouri bottom. His mother had 
 died of the fever, and his father had been killed by the 
 craven Pawnees. This father was a brave and noble 
 Maha. He was my friend and companion. I loved 
 him much. But he loved the "Wagha, and I hated them. 
 AYhen the Pawnees were at war with the white men he 
 went down to help and save the settlers. He entered 
 into any personal danger to rescue his new friends. 
 Once, he led a party of Pawnees a long way through 
 the woods, kindling fires to allure them on. This saved 
 a village of the Wagha, but it was death to Noah'a 
 
AN INDIAN COURTSHIP. 51 
 
 father. He knew it would be so, but he was willing. 
 And when, at last, the Pawnees overtook him, he died 
 bravely, singing his Dta-wa-e,* and giving up himself to 
 AVakanda. I praise his goodness, but I hate those whom 
 he chose as his friends, and who were the cause of his 
 death." 
 
 He paused a moment, and gave the lire a kick. The 
 bright sparks from the brier-boughs mounted to the sky, 
 and lit up the dusky faces of the intensely expectant 
 company. It is impossible to retain, in a translation, the 
 vivid and picturesque language he employed in telling 
 his story. I can only give you the bare meaning of his 
 words : 
 
 " This is the sort of blood that runs in Noah's veins. 
 You and 1 do not understand his feelings, but we must 
 not be too hard with him. We think the untamed eagle 
 grander and nobler than the house-bird. It may be be- 
 cause we have never suffered captivity. Noah, when 
 once he was left alone in the world, went to live with 
 the family of a settler, as I have said. It was his choice, 
 of course, for an orphan would share the food of our 
 tribe as well as any one else, as you all know. I do not 
 defend the choice. I only say he is not as cowardly and 
 base as you think him. 
 
 " This settler's cabin was on the bottom of the Mis- 
 souri, 'and his fields of corn extended all around it. He 
 was a hard-working man, and Noah was faithful to him, 
 and they raised great crops. But they were always 
 afraid that the river, in its March or June rise, would 
 sweep away their cabin, and destroy them all. Some- 
 times the angry and swollen waters would come to the 
 very door of the cabin, and. the swift, hard cakes of ice 
 
 * Death song. 
 
52 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 would crackle and grind at them, as if they were hungry 
 for them. 1 have often seen the river extend the whole 
 five miles between the bluffs. It would be either when 
 the ice first breaks up in the spring, or when the great 
 melt in the mountains far up the river conies. The cur- 
 rent would be swifter than shongas* can run, and the 
 crackling ice would sweep even the thickets of willows 
 away as if they were grass. Over all, the frightened 
 wild-ducks and brant would be sailing in triangular 
 bands, and the sun would be shining on their bright 
 backs and breasts. But the river itself was fierce and 
 cruel. It seemed to me to snarl, and snap, and lap its 
 banks as I have seen rows of hungry wolves snarl and 
 hiss around a dying shonga. Of course, if one of those 
 cakes of ice were to strike a house it would crash it as 
 your foot would crush the egg of a prairie-hen. Some- 
 times the current would carry a house down-stream 
 bodily. You remember, yourselves, that, last year, a 
 house in which the Wagha's missionaries preached went 
 down the river past our reservation, its bell ringing dis- 
 mally as the building rocked to and fro. 
 
 " This was the danger, and the white man with whom 
 Noah lived knew it. One day he was compelled to go 
 away from home. He left Noah in charge of his horses 
 and cows, and told his wife to look to the river, and, if 
 it rose, to escape, with her six little children, to the 
 bluff. This bluff was about a mile away. Well, the 
 river had been very high, but seemed to be falling dur- 
 ing the afternoon, and at night the settler's wife thought 
 all was safe, 'and went to bed as usual. Noah attended 
 to the horses and cows, saw that they were properly 
 tied and had plenty of hay, and then, taking a last look 
 
 * Ponies. 
 
AN INDIAN COURTSHIP. 53 
 
 at the river, went to his bed in the upper story of the 
 cabin. " 
 
 The fire had burned low, and Umpanuga paused until 
 some of the young men piled on the brier-boughs. His 
 wife and Little Star had come out of the door of the 
 tepee, where they had first sat, and had crept close to 
 the circle of listeners the maiden happening to make 
 her way almost to Strong Foot's side. When the bright 
 sparks mounted again, in fan-shaped glory, into the sky, 
 Umpanuga resumed his narrative : 
 
 " After Noah had slept some time he was wakened by 
 what seemed, at first, to him to be the murmur of the 
 wind among the pines. It was something stronger and 
 fiercer than this, however. This Noah was convinced 
 of as he heard a trickling sound round the 'corners of the 
 house. He sprang from his bed, and dressed himself as 
 soon as possible. Being now awake, he could hear the 
 cows bellowing, and the horses stamping and whinny- 
 ing in their stalls. lie knew what all this meant, and, 
 striking a light as soon as he could, he ran down into the 
 cabin kitchen. The water was already six inches deep 
 on the floor. There was no storm in the sky. As he 
 looked out everything was bright and beautiful, in the 
 wide-spread glory of a June night in Nebraska. But he 
 knew that death was staring them in the face, and it was 
 not the less to be dreaded because it was coming so softly 
 and slowly. 
 
 " He cried out to the settler's wife to get herself and 
 her children dressed, and then went out to see how things 
 looked. The water was running four foot deep before 
 the cabin-door. lie thought he could get over to the 
 wood-pile to make a raft ; but, wading out a little way, 
 he found the current so swift that he could hardly keep 
 his feet, and concluded it would be better to save his 
 
54 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 strength to carry the children to the bluff. So he went 
 back to the house, and found the mother standing in the 
 kitchen, with white lips and frightened eyes, with her 
 children about her. ' Save these first,' she said. Noah 
 took a couple of them, and started for the bluff. As he 
 went out an ice-cake struck the corner of the cabin, and 
 tilted it over several inches into the current. 
 
 " The first trip was not hard to make, and on the 
 second Noah also carried two children. But this time 
 he was almost swept away, under his double burden, and 
 he reached the refuge, panting and nearly exhausted. 
 The water was rising every moment. lie could hear 
 the poor beasts in their stables crying out for help, but 
 he had none to give them. He sprang again into the 
 tide, and came back to the bluff with one of the remain- 
 ing children. The mother had stayed in the cabin all 
 this time. She was holding her little babe to her breast. 
 It was sweet-faced and beautiful, and had the yellow 
 hair that we Red Men admire so much. The cabin was 
 tottering now, and before Noah came back for the last 
 time the mother ventured out. Ah, the current was too 
 swift for her strength, and she went down before it. 
 Noah was near enough to catch the child, but he could 
 not save the mother. She went down the river with a 
 shriek, her white face tossing on the current. It was for 
 saving these children that the agent called him Noah. 
 What it means I do not know, but it is something out of 
 the Wagha's Book."* 
 
 While he had been speaking, little Kathewana had 
 crept into the group. Did she know about the capture 
 of Noah ? Would she tell these young men where this 
 brave friend of the white man then was ? 
 
 * The Bible. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 JUDGE LYNCH ON THE BENCH. 
 
 THE news of the capture spread like wildfire among 
 the ranchmen. The anxiety to secure the Indians' pos- 
 sessions was so great that so signal a cause for strife as 
 the hanging of a buck would not be long in becoming 
 known. Who spread the first news nobody knew ; but 
 all were eager to see the " cussed red-skin " hanged. 
 Every minute the company increased, until there were 
 enough present for an annual round-up when the time 
 of the start came. 
 
 Noah was brought out of the cupboard and placed 
 upon the little roan, and the Faber brothers prepared to 
 guard him. The poor fellow was haggard and distressed, 
 having spent the hours of rest in an anxious dread for 
 little Wattena. Often had he seemed to hear her voice 
 piteously calling him in the sad night- wind sobbing 
 round the corners of the ranch. More than once did her 
 great, dark eyes see'm to be peering at him out of the 
 tremulous darkness in the corner. He needed all the 
 consolations that his religion could give him as the slow 
 hours crept on. And he abandoned himself without 
 reserve to his faith. Kot once did doubt or hesitation 
 cross his mind. He knew nothing of the theories of 
 dogmatics, but he was as sure of Wakanda's existence and 
 love as of the reality of the sweeping hills upon which 
 he had chased the jack-rabbit and wapiti. He took it 
 for granted, in his simple way, that all this darkness 
 
56 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 would become light by and by ; but, oh, it was so hard 
 and dismal while it lasted ! He pictured to himself one 
 of those stormy nights when he had been out on the slip- 
 pery divides. It would be all bewilderment, and he 
 would not know where his next step would land him. 
 Then there would come a sudden blaze of pale light far 
 up in the northern sky, as the wind shifted ; the sweep- 
 ing rain would drift, muttering, away, and the rest of 
 his way would be calm and clear. And he thought, also, 
 of those winter camps, where he and his fellow -hunters 
 would take refuge from the cold. The snow would 
 silently pile great, impassable walls around them ; hunger, 
 and even starvation, would follow, until death would 
 stare them in the face. Then, almost in a moment, the 
 strange Chinooka, or hot wind, would spring up, and 
 grow in volume until it would whistle and shriek in the 
 pines, and in a very few hours a path would be melted 
 through the snow. Would a similar deliverance come to 
 him now ? Out of all this pain and misery would there 
 come peace and happiness ? Would the dear little Wat- 
 tena be spared to him, and could he escape to her ; or 
 would they both meet in the good land before the throne 
 of Wakanda ? He tried to think that it would not mat- 
 ter but he was human how could he ? He tried to 
 fancy what the good land would be, but in this, also, he 
 failed. And so he came back, again and again, to this : 
 he would commit Wattena and himself to Wakanda' s 
 love, and just trust and go forward. So that now, as he 
 sat upon the roan between the Fabers, a supernatural 
 calmness was struggling with distress upon his face and 
 in his quick, deep eyes. 
 
 The company, as it started away, presented a romantic, 
 even a brilliant appearance. The cowboys had strung 
 to their dress every bit of bright color they possessed. 
 
JUDGE LYNCH ON THE BENCH. 57 
 
 Their sombreros were, in many instances, embroidered 
 rudely with silk and cords of many tints, and round them 
 all were hat-bands of braided sheep-skin, mahoganicd by 
 the weather. They all wore flannel shirts, flung wide at 
 the throat. The tough leather pants, secured by a belt 
 at the waist,, and heavy boots completed their dress. 
 Most of them wore long hair and full beards, and their 
 faces, hands and necks were as dark as Noah's from ex- 
 posure to the weather. Next to the men in importance 
 were their ponies. These were all small and spiteful, 
 but wonderfully active, and full of nerve and courage. 
 They were of all colors, white and clay-bank predomi- 
 nating, and wall-eyes were very common. They were 
 bony and ungainly, but responded instantly to the lash, 
 or the heavy spurs which all the cowboys wore at their 
 heels. The saddles were huge, and elaborately orna- 
 mented ; they were secured by two braided girths, and 
 carried lassoes at their pommels, and a rolled, blanket or 
 overcoat at their crup. The bridles were made of braided 
 sheepskin, ornamented with leaves, cut from the same 
 material, and armed with great steel bits. In many 
 cases, the woven reins were continued into a short wliip 
 which fell at the rider's side, and could do service in 
 more ways than one. Everything about a ranch-horse 
 must be braided, from the animal's tail to the front piece 
 of the bridle, and wherever adornment can by any means 
 be patched on it must not be neglected. 
 
 There was little form or regularity observed in the line 
 of advance. For a time they rode two abreast, but at 
 length the desire to try the speed of their bronchos be- 
 came too strong for such methodical march, and there 
 were many exciting races over the short, crisp grass. 
 There were many contest, also, as to superiority in 
 hurling the lasso, and in shooting the plover with their 
 
58 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 revolvers ; and the shouting and laughter would have 
 given one the impression that they were out for a holiday 
 spree, rather than for the hanging of a fellow- mortal. A 
 close guard was kept over Noah by the Faber brothers 
 and two or three of their immediate followers ; but the 
 rest of the company presented the appearance of a brill- 
 iantly-dressed lot of cowboys out upon a lark. And, let 
 it be said right here, under the very shadow of the 
 great crime they were about to commit, that there is no 
 class of men more thoroughly generous and noble-hearted 
 than the ranchmen and cowboys of the Western plains. 
 They are profane and ungodly to the farthest extent ; a 
 dispute over a spoonful of " larrup" or molasses will 
 bring on bloodshed in five minutes, if not promptly 
 checked, and they have an inveterate hatred of the 
 Indians, which nothing but an equality of the Red Men 
 with them before the law can ever pacify. But for true 
 kindliness to any one in distress, except an Indian, they are 
 unmatched ; and for self-sacrificing devotion to the in- 
 terests of their employers, they are the wonder of all 
 who know them well. This much I am bound to say, 
 in order to give a correct picture of the problem of the 
 plains. 
 
 It was one of those glorious days for which northern 
 Nebraska is famous. The sun had risen, like an Oriental 
 prince, to scatter jewels upon the tufts of buffalo-grass, 
 and shower brightness and beauty on the hillsides, and 
 over the graceful crowns of the sweeping divides. The 
 prairie-dogs were chattering busily over their trampled 
 burrows, and the jack-rabbits were sunning themselves 
 under the dun clay banks worn away by the spring 
 freshets. Noah could not help noticing all these things, 
 as they shone under the light of what might be his last 
 day. How bright and fair it all looked ! Could there 
 
JUDGE LYNCH ON THE BENCH. 59 
 
 be anything more beautiful, or as beautiful, in the world 
 beyond ? He was about to see ; but it seemed almost in- 
 credible. And he was amazed to find his captors talking 
 of commonplace things. 
 
 " We ought ter meet Sandy before long," Joe Faber 
 was saying. " He's had time enough to get back from 
 town. Wonder what news he'll have." 
 
 " .N"othin' like the news we can give him," answered 
 Pete. " 1 hope he made the story strong. We must 
 see that the Chicago Times gits this yer day's work in 
 right : * Great cattle-thief hung,' we must word it. 
 4 The terror of the plains at length brought to justice. ' 
 That'll sound first-class, eh ?" 
 
 " Yes, that'll do. We must set forth as how the law- 
 abiding citizens at last got indignant, an' organized a 
 posse to capture their man. He had a regular trial, of 
 course, an' was found guilty. He was ordered ter be 
 hung until he was dead, to the limb of a cotton wood in 
 Striver's Hollow. That was the sentence, ye understand. 
 Damn me, if it ain't all plain enough." 
 
 " Ter change the subject," said his brother, " did 
 you tell Tom and Sloper to drive the cattle in bunches 
 over to Brown's range \ This yer day's work will raise 
 a devilish storm, an' we must have our stock out of all 
 harm's way. We must clear out, ourselves, for a few 
 days, an' we want what is valuable around our ranch 
 saved, too. Let 'em burn down the cabin, if they want 
 to, they can't destroy the range. It'll be ours, and their 
 land will be ours, too, some day. Look there is 
 Sandy !" 
 
 Joe had been nodding assent to the several questions 
 and assertions of his brother, and now they both turned 
 their attention to a horseman who was dashing over the 
 prairies toward them. It was evidently Sandy. It was 
 
60 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 his way of sitting in the saddle. It was his way of hand- 
 ling the reins. It was his pony's way of kicking the 
 miles behind him. And when he came up to them, it 
 was Sandy's own surprise that was pictured on his freckled 
 face. And they were Sandy's own oaths that issued 
 from his tobacco-stained lips when the whole thing was 
 explained to him. No, there was no news, except that 
 there was to be a big dance that night in Jim Carlin's 
 saloon and dance-house. 
 
 " All right, boys," cried Pete Faber. "When we 
 git this business in hand over with, we'll ride into town, 
 and see the gals as Jim Carlin has on the carpet." 
 
 This project was hailed with cheers, and the party rode 
 forward, even more eagerly, toward Striver's Hollow. 
 They wanted to have the temporary hindrance removed, 
 that they might go on to the revel at Carlin's. Poor 
 Noah half heard and half did not hear all this. His 
 thoughts were busy with Wattena his wife, and the 
 little babe and the future. He was stunned and bewil- 
 dered, and all this seemed like the passing dream of a 
 summer's night. It must be so with all of us ; when 
 the moment of death approaches there is a benumbing 
 and soothing delusion sent to quiet our forebodings, and 
 to make it possible for us to go the way of all the earth. 
 Christians might give a theological name to this. But 
 the most worldly of us must admit its reality and blessed 
 influence. 
 
 The men became more orderly and quiet as they ap- 
 proached Striver's. The solemnity of death was assert- 
 ing its influence upon even their rough hearts. They 
 treated Noah with a little respect ; and when, at length, 
 they came under the cottonwoods, they gave him a few 
 moments of privacy to chant his Dta-wa-e, and arrange 
 his thoughts. Noah was deeply grateful for this. He 
 
JTDGE LYNCH ON THE BENCH. 61 
 
 wanted to pray for himself, and for Wattena and the poor 
 sick babe. It was all that he could do now. But how 
 could he have those cruel men hear his words ? To he 
 sure, they kept a close watch upon him, as they gulped 
 dmvn their whiskey, at a little distance, but that did not 
 matter. He knelt down at the foot of the tree, where 
 he was to be executed, and poured out his soul to God. 
 Not a tear escaped his eyelids, and there was not a 
 tremble to his lips ; he had conquered all that, for he 
 would not have the Wagha see him overcome. But in 
 quiet Indian whispers, his picturesque native tongue 
 serving him to good purpose now, he told the kind 
 Father all about it. "Would not He care for the helpless 
 widow and the fatherless babe ? Would not He see that 
 they did not want ? Had He not promised to do this 
 very thing in his Book ? Yes, Noah felt that he could 
 trust the strong and faithful Wakanda, even in this sore 
 hour. He was glad that he had not joined the war- 
 party, though they had taunted him with being a coward. 
 lie could die with a clear conscience. He had not done 
 any one harm ; that was a great comfort. He arose 
 quite comforted and strong. Then seating himself on a 
 pile of dried cottonwood boughs, he covered his head 
 with his blanket, and chanted his Dta-wa-e, swaying 
 backward and forward. 
 
 " My life now goes out like a half-burned knot. "Wat- 
 tena shall mourn and wail in the little cabin, like the 
 night-wind moaning round the hollow tree-trunk. The 
 little babe cries for me in vain. The land of my fathers 
 is desolate, and the Wagha have driven us to ruin and 
 despair. O Wakanda, 1 come to thee !" 
 
 His chant was cut short by the ranchmen, who looked 
 at each other a moment, as if to get the signal, and then 
 rushed simultaneously upon him. Sandy's lasso was 
 
62 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 thrown over tlie lowest limb of the tree, Noah's hands 
 -were tied behind him, the fatal noose was thrown over 
 his head, and, with a cry that was more a scream than a 
 cheer, the men drew him up. The end of the rope was 
 secured so as to hold him in the air, and Sandy built a 
 fire under him to add to his tortures. 
 
 " Now for Jim Carlin's 1" 
 
 They left him convulsively stiffening in the air, and 
 in another minute their party was a shadow of crimson 
 and dust upon the horizon. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 IS IT A RESCUE ? 
 
 JUST as they disappeared another cloud came sweeping 
 up from the opposite horizon. It came on, as if pushed 
 by the north wind. There were flashes of color in this 
 cloud, also ; and, as it came nearer, there were bright 
 head-dresses, and gaudy blankets, and glinting rifles to be 
 seen. And there were ponies, with their brave little 
 ears thrust back, and their tough nostrils bursting with 
 grit and nerve, and their strong knees hinging up and 
 down to drive the miles behind them. 
 
 Between the disappearing and the approaching party 
 the stiffened body of Noah swung dismally in the wind. 
 
 A few moments more brought the rescuers under the 
 cottonwood. Ah, little Kathewana had done her errand 
 well ! The wooing at Umpanuga's fireside had ended 
 in a sudden arming and mounting to prevent the slaugh- 
 ter of their fellow-tribesman. They had ridden hard ; 
 were they too late ? More than one pony had broken 
 down under the headlong gallop, and more than one 
 eager rider had thus been forced to give up the chase. 
 But had it been all in vain ? 
 
 Strong Foot was in command, and by his direction 
 some of the young Mahas scattered the blazing fire- 
 brands under Noah, and some cut the body down. At 
 first it seemed that life was extinct. Noah's strong, 
 handsome face was perfectly calm and cold, and his 
 brawny, well-knit figure lay still and lifeless upon the 
 
64 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 trampled grass. Still they did not cease their efforts to 
 restore him, and, after a short time, they had the un- 
 speakable happiness to hear him groan. He seemed to 
 resent their endeavors to call him back to this world. 
 He had gone so far upon the heavenly journey that he 
 did not wish to return. Earthly loves and hopes and 
 plans had given place to something higher and holier, 
 and it was like awakening from a celestial dream to be 
 forced to live again. One groan only made way for 
 another, and it was with a very poor grace, indeed, that 
 he finally opened his eyes upon the anxious, familiar 
 faces bending over him. 
 
 " He lires ! He lives !" they cried. 
 
 To rescue him was their immediate object, and now 
 that this had been accomplished they sat down spontane- 
 ously, as if undetermined what to do next. Their pant- 
 ing ponies were standing around them, on wide-spread 
 legs, too fatigued to graze. The brilliant beauty of the 
 autumn day was flooding them, and, as they sat under 
 its light, they presented a striking picture. Some had 
 daubed themselves with the war-paint ; some had hastily 
 assumed their war-bonnets of horse-hair and colored 
 feathers ; and all were decked out with the tight band of 
 scarlet flannel around the forehead, and w r ith what rags 
 of ribbon they could catch up. Like the colored race, 
 the Indians are fond of dashing colors ; and, like our own 
 more cultured society, they cling with tenacity to race 
 traditions. It was as much the proper thing for these 
 bucks to be arrayed in this fashion, when out upon such 
 an errand, as for the belle or the dandy to wear the 
 fashionable tint and cut in our own polished drawing- 
 rooms. And I venture to say that they felt the same 
 pride and satisfaction in doing it. 
 
 However, they realized now that they were in the 
 
IS IT A RESCUE? 65 
 
 crisis of their existence. Here was a pretext for war 
 with the whites. They had never been at war with 
 them ; but why should they not now assert their rights I 
 Even Noah would now join them. Surely he had 
 learned a lesson. And as soon as he is able to speak he 
 will, undoubtedly, favor an immediate advance to the 
 fort or the Agency wherever the first attack would bet- 
 ter be made. They recognized him as a leader in all 
 other exploits, and had longed to have him lead them in 
 war. Now was their time, and they determined, silently 
 and individually, to improve it. 
 
 On all important occasions the Indian must make a 
 speech. Hence they had not sat long upon the ground 
 before one of their number it was he who was to have 
 married little Kathewana arose, and, wrapping a blanket 
 round his citizen's clothes, said : 
 
 "It is known to our simple race, as well as to more 
 polished peoples, that sin is found out by its own power. 
 If you crush a rose in your hand, by and by the thorn 
 will pierce you. On the contrary, if you tame even a 
 coyote, in some moment of carelessness you will find it 
 tugging at your throat. So is it with sin. Whether you 
 corrupt the innocent, or seek to familiarize the evil, the 
 result is the same ruin and disgrace and death. It has 
 been so with the Waglia in dealing with my poor Kathe- 
 wana. They crushed her as a tender little flower, but 
 she has been the means of bringing us to the rescue of 
 our friend. She told us of their wickedness ; she incited 
 us to arms ; she will be avenged if we go to war. And 
 why should we not go to war ? Is there any reason for 
 our remaining inactive ? Do the Wagha deserve for- 
 bearance or mercy at our hands ? Look at Noah, and 
 tell me ! The noble bear may let the fox do many a 
 sly, mean thing before it turns upon the offender, but 
 
66 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 when the bear's blow is struck it is all over with the 
 fox. Let us have no more smiles and promises and 
 treachery. Let us strike the bear's blow, and see the 
 issue. We know what submission brings us ; let us try 
 war. It cannot be more terrible." 
 
 His speech called forth a long-continued murmur of 
 applause. Even Noah listened to the latter part of it, 
 seeing which, some of his friends propped him up on a 
 couple of blankets. The whirl in his brain was becom- 
 ing less and less now, and he was able to look up at the 
 limb of the cottonwood from which he had lately been 
 swinging. Could it be possible that he was so near 
 death as that ? It seemed a year to him since he had 
 made his prayer and sung his Dta-wa-e. What was little 
 Wattena doing all this time, and why was he not al- 
 ready on his way to her and his suffering, anxious wife \ 
 There was the little roan grazing, wonderingly, at a short 
 distance. He took a hasty glance all around, and looked 
 up sharply into the magnificent sky to make sure that he 
 was not dreaming. Ah, yes, it was all right. He was on 
 the earth yet, and he took a long breath to prove that no 
 lasso was around his neck. Why should he linger when 
 the little babe needed him so much \ Ah, another of 
 his rescuers was about to speak, and he must stay to hear 
 his words. 
 
 The speaker was a young man who had recently joined 
 the war party. He was a straightforward fellow, with 
 an immense depth of chest, and a strong, self-reliant 
 poise of the head. There are the same differences of ap- 
 pearance and physique among the Red Men as among the 
 whites, and there is the same comparative range of men- 
 tal traits. A glance would show you that this speaker 
 was an honest, matter-of-fact fellow, who would die at 
 the stake before he would do a wrong. Yet he said : 
 
is IT A RESCUE: 67 
 
 <{ I now am sure that we must go to war. You know 
 that I have been slow to join yon. 1 have sat in my 
 tepee, and thought, when you have been over at the 
 council-fire. But now I am with you. The prairie lynx 
 does not fight until it is forced to ; but then it is as fierce 
 as the she- wolf. My plan would be to go directly to the 
 Agency. That is upon our own ground, and we have a 
 right to do with it as we please. Let us tear every build- 
 ing down. Let us scatter the stores that the agent has 
 gathered together. Why should he enjoy all the benefits 
 of our land ? I think that even Noah will join us in this 
 work." 
 
 All eyes were now turned in his direction, and iNoah 
 cleared his throat to make a reply. Before he could 
 speak, however, they were all startled by a cry from 
 Strong Foot. He was pointing out upon the prairie ; 
 and, glancing in the direction indicated, they all saw a 
 solitary horseman riding swiftly toward them. It was 
 Sandy, who had been sent back to see how matters were 
 under the cotton wood. He had not yet seen the Indians, 
 and came on with the speed of the wind. 
 
 " I will have his blood !" said Strong Foot. 
 
 The others nodded their encouragement as their leader 
 crept away to find a pony. He selected Noah's roan as 
 being the swiftest and freshest in the party, and spring- 
 ing to her back, rode cautiously out upon the prairie. 
 
 It was at this moment that Sandy first saw the com- 
 pany under the tree. He stiffened himself in the saddle, 
 then drew up the reins, and slowly brought his gray 
 broncho to a halt. With his sharp eye he swept the 
 prairie, as if wondering whether he would better go for- 
 ward or retreat. The Indians had always been friendly 
 to him personally, and he had often seen them bear as 
 cruel wrong as the ranchmen had just done them without 
 
68 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 resentment. His puzzle, however, was put an end to by 
 Strong Foot, who uttered a fearful yell and galloped down 
 upon him. Sandy wheeled his pony, and with whip and 
 spurs put him to his greatest speed to escape, bending 
 down upon his neck, and casting sidelong glances at his 
 pursuer. 
 
 All the bucks now joined the chase all but Noah. 
 He was too much exhausted and bewildered to accom- 
 pany them, even if he had desired to. What were his 
 feelings at that moment ? Not even he could describe 
 them. He could not keep down an intoxicating sense 
 of triumph and revenge, now that the active agent of his 
 hanging was about to be captured. At least Noali took it 
 for granted that the little roan would overtake Sandy's 
 gray. Had he not often matched her against the other 
 ponies of the tribe, and had she once been beaten ? Had 
 he not run down even the jack-rabbits with her, when 
 he had had a fair start and a smooth stretch of ground ? 
 So he took it for settled that the Waglia would be capt- 
 ured, and hung with the same lasso that had recently 
 been around his own neck. Would he rejoice to see him 
 dangling in the air ? Would he take pleasure in his 
 twitching limbs and stiffening joints and dying agonies ? 
 Yes, at that moment he thought he would. Had he 
 not cruelly suffered at the hand of the Wagha ? He 
 clenched his fists and ground his teeth, and even prayed 
 Wakandathat Sandy might be captured. The bewilder- 
 ing whirl of his brain was slowly hardening into a firm 
 hatred of the white men, and a steady purpose to be 
 revenged. 
 
 Meanwhile, the chase was going on. Their course was 
 an oblique one toward the horizon, so that Noah could 
 follow them with his eye from where he sat. The white 
 man had a quarter of a mile's start, but the Indian's 
 
IS IT A RESCUE? CO 
 
 pony was the fresher, and, perchance, the swifter. 
 Every now and then Sandy would lash the sides of his 
 broncho, as if ho felt that ho was losing ground ; but 
 Strong Foot sat erect, silent and confident. The roan 
 was a splendid picture, her nose thrust out, her mane fly- 
 ing, flakes of foam falling on her breast, and her sturdy 
 lc-< working like machinery. The bits of color with 
 which both were ornamented shone brightly in the still 
 evening light, and the rifle flung over Strong Foot's 
 shoulder glinted now and then as the sun caught one of 
 its faces. After them came the howling bucks, in a 
 scattered band, their feathers and war-bonnets streaming 
 in the wind. It was such a picture as can be seen only 
 on the plains. The strife would nowhere else occur ; 
 the brave, gritty ponies cannot be found in any other 
 part of the world, and you must have the vast stretches 
 of crisp buffalo-grass and the splendid air and the illimi- 
 table sky which only Nebraska and Dakota possess. Noah 
 gazed upon it enraptured. It was hard for even him to 
 believe that it was not all a panorama, in which hatred 
 and revenge and lust for blood were only pictured. 
 
 Once he saw the roan stumble. Strong Foot gave her 
 a cuff on the neck, more in encouragement than impa- 
 tience. It was only for a moment ; some sandhill or 
 prairie-dog hole had thrown her off her guard. But now 
 she was at it again. The foam was a little freer from 
 her nostrils, that was the only sign of fatigue about her. 
 But with the gray broncho it was different. Sandy was 
 lashing him more frequently and cruelly now, but the 
 poor beast was evidently upon his last legs. He had 
 gone so far that day that he was unequal to the terrible 
 strain of this pursuit. Noah thought he could see blood 
 falling from his trembling nostrils upon the bright sod. 
 Yes, and there he stumbles ! He rolls over dead 1 
 
70 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 Sandy draws his revolver, arid stands over him. His 
 brave horse has done his best to save him, has given his 
 life in the attempt ; he must now defend himself. 
 
 Strong Foot eases up the roan, and alights from her 
 back. He is savagely deliberate. Will he shoot the 
 cowboy with his rifle, and leave him to die beside the 
 brave gray ? He is a splendid shot, and could keep out 
 of range of Sandy's revolver until he had riddled him 
 with bullets. See, he swings his rifle over his head, and 
 brings it to arm, ready for use. He shouts something to 
 the Wagha, who impatiently shakes his head. Then 
 there is a shot. Sandy jumps a little, and the revolver 
 falls to the ground. His right arm has been pierced by 
 a bullet ; but he resolutely picks up the weapon with his 
 left hand, and fires a hopeless shot at his enemy. It is 
 all so matter-of-fact. Strong Foot is so cool and slow 
 about it. lie sees that another shot must be fired, and, 
 throwing down the loading lever of his Remington, he 
 brings it back with a slam, and draws his gun to his 
 shoulder. Again he shouts to the cowboy, and again 
 there is an impatient shake of the head. Then comes 
 the third shot, and Sandy's other arm hangs limp and 
 useless at his side. 
 
 By this time the bucks have all come storming up, and 
 they make a rush upon the defenceless cowboy. He is 
 stolid and indifferent now, and they seat him behind one 
 of their number, and come slowly back to the cotton- 
 wood. Noah awaited them with a beating heart. He 
 felt a thrilling satisfaction in the thought that now the 
 personal outrage done him was to be avenged. He got 
 up on his knees, and yelled as if he were a madman. 
 But how about the consequences of this rash act ? Was 
 he ready to go with his comrades into a general war ? 
 
IS IT A RESCUE? 71 
 
 thought came to him, but he brushed it aside to give 
 full license to the present fierce joy. 
 
 The excitement among the Indians grew more and 
 more intense as they approached the moment of execution. 
 Sandy was seated in the very spot where Noah had but 
 now awaited his death, and his legs were carefully tied 
 together. A flask of whiskey that he had in. his pocket 
 was seized and eagerly drained by his captors. A great 
 fire was built under the cottonwood, and the bucks began 
 to dance about it, howling and yelling in the most fright- 
 ful fashion. All the calm reason that they had mani- 
 fested before Sandy appeared had now left them, and 
 they were transformed into frantic savages. These sud- 
 den transformations are a prominent trait of the Indian 
 character, and give cause for the violent misunderstand- 
 ings to which it has been subject. These very men, 
 who were so orderly and rational a few moments ago, 
 were now tearing their own flesh, and giving Sandy a 
 pinch or a light stab now and then. 
 
 Then came the final tragedy. Whether Noah took 
 any part in it or not lie could never tell. He remem- 
 bered the white, startled face of the Wagha, and his 
 frantic struggles while the lasso was being placed round 
 his neck. He remembered the frightful scream he 
 uttered as he was drawn into the air. He saw him rid- 
 dled with bullets, and knew that a great fire was kindled 
 under his feet. Then all was confusion. He was gallop- 
 ing away, with the brave little roan under him. That 
 he was certain of. And he heard his comrades crying : 
 
 " On to the Agency ! On to the Agency 1" 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 LITTLE WATTENA. 
 
 THE relapse of even the most civilized people into a 
 temporary barbarism is the most natural thing in the 
 world. Your scientific friend would call it " reversal to 
 type." He would quote Mr. Darwin, who gives us 
 many examples of the application of this universal law. 
 He would tell you that a flock of pigeons let loose upon 
 an uninhabited island will, in the course of a few years, 
 lose all their bright colors, and all their various mark- 
 ings, and result in a race of monotonously gray birds, 
 precisely like the original wild pigeon. He would point 
 out to you the fact that the most beautiful domestic 
 plants and the most useful vegetables will return, if 
 neglected, even for a short time, to the low types out of 
 which they have sprung. The luscious strawberry will 
 degenerate into the small, sour berry of the hills, and the 
 fragrant rose will become the dog-rose of the hedges. 
 The same is true of animals. Turn out your cart-horse 
 among a herd of his wild fellows, and, before the scars of 
 the harness have disappeared from his back, or the last 
 shoe-nail worn out of his hoofs, he will be as fiery and 
 untamed as the others. 
 
 Man himself is but a higher animal, and is subject to 
 the same reversal to type. He is brother to your cart- 
 horse and cousin to your pigeon. Your scholarly and 
 overworked man of letters will feel a wild enthusiasm 
 surging in his veins when he plunges into the woods for 
 
LITTLE WATTENA. 73 
 
 a holiday hunt. Why, then, should we consider it un- 
 natural that the Red Men, who have gone but a few 
 paces from nature's free savagery, should return to it 
 on the smallest occasion ? Is there not fierceness in 
 nature ? Do not severity and thirst for blood characterize 
 her various moods ? How can we expect her favor- 
 ite sons, therefore, to do otherwise than exhibit her 
 marks when they lovingly flee back to her sympathetic 
 solitudes ? 
 
 So it was that a few short hours had wrought a won- 
 derful transformation in the young men of Strong Foot's 
 band. Yesterday you would have taken them for a com- 
 pany of hard- working fellows, with grievances, but with- 
 out the serious purpose of avenging them. To-day they 
 are a squad of howling savages, having had a taste of 
 blood, and with a firm intention of shedding more. 
 Then you would have noticed indications of progress 
 toward the white man's ways in their language, tone of 
 voice, and intelligent appearance, as well as in their 
 general adoption of citizens' clothes. Now all these 
 things seem to have been obliterated by one stroke of the 
 hand of hate. Their eyes are wild, their faces swollen 
 with passion, their coats and shirts cast aside, and their 
 swarthy skin but partly concealed by their fiery blankets. 
 Nowhere could you see such violent and unreasoning 
 hatred as every movement of the band indicated, their 
 very ponies taking part in the spitefulness, and the wild 
 wind tossing their knotted hair and greasy ribbons in 
 defiance. ^Then once thoroughly aroused an Indian 
 seems a very demon of animosity, and stops at nothing. 
 The wonder is that, with so passionate a nature, he will 
 bear so much. 
 
 It was now far advanced into the afternoon. The day 
 had been perfectly bright and beautiful, with one of 
 
74 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 those transparent skies that induce you to believe that 
 you can almost look into heaven. Not a cloud had been 
 visible, and the vast stretches of grassy prairie, and the 
 long, irregular divides seemed to melt away into infinity. 
 Talk about the grandeur and variety of the ocean ! It 
 is a dreary monotony in comparison with the rolling, 
 blooming prairies of the West. And all this day the 
 great acres of buffalo-grass and the countless patches of 
 wild flowers had been shining under an unveiled sun. 
 But now things began to change. You would not have 
 noticed any signs in the heavens of a storm. But the 
 quick eyes of the Indians detected, even in the hurry of 
 a hard gallop and the excitement of a hunt for the 
 Wagha's blood, a yellow spot with a scarlet centre, in the 
 southwest, that indicated a blizzard. And what could 
 better accord with their present mood than the noise and 
 confusion of a storm ? Let the wind shriek, and the 
 thunder grumble, and the rain sigh, it would all come 
 into their feelings like the voices of brothers, and the wild 
 encouragement of hearty friends. 
 
 They knew that the blizzard would blow up suddenly. 
 Yet there would be a few moments of stillness and 
 suffocation before the dash came. The wind lulled a 
 little, and their ponies seemed to pant more. They 
 could almost smell the ozone smoking in the atmosphere. 
 The trembling wavelets of heat rising from the prairie 
 seemed to spring up to a greater height, and the flowers 
 hung down their heads in momentary exhaustion. A 
 mingling of strange lights came upon the landscape, as 
 if a confusion of colored flames were burning in some 
 distant valley, and casting their reflection here. There 
 were no premonitory clouds. The gloom in the south- 
 west deepened and broadened rapidly, and the slanting 
 rain came dashing out of otherwise a c|ear sky, and in an 
 
LITTLE WATTEXA. 75 
 
 instant there was such a storm upon them as no one can 
 possibly picture who has not seen it. 
 
 It may be that the exceeding brightness of the western 
 sky renders the darkness of the storms more noticeable ; 
 but nothing can be more horrible and unearthly than the 
 sudden blizzards of the plains. The quenching of such 
 illimitable glory, the fierceness of the first dash of rain, 
 the clatter of the. heavy hail upon the buffalo-grass, the 
 vivid and constant lightning in an atmosphere charged 
 with electricity, the crash and rumble of the awful thun- 
 der, and, above all, the demon-like shriek of the wind 
 let loose upon almost an infinite race-course all these 
 and a thousand other elements of terror enter into its 
 power to stun and overpower the heart of man. It is 
 the Indian's simple belief that when a blizzard is blow- 
 ing the fiercest animals become, through fear, as tame as 
 lambs, and may be taken captive by a cord woven out of 
 the nodding wild grass. Is there not a certain founda- 
 tion for this tradition in the trepidation and shrinking 
 that the stoutest human heart must feel under such a 
 display of nature's power ? 
 
 It was through such a storm as this that Strong Foot's 
 band rode. They protected their heads somewhat with 
 their blankets, but, otherwise, you would have noticed 
 no indication on their faces or in their movements that 
 they were disturbed by it. The scintillating lightning 
 pierced the tops of the sharp divides on every hand, but 
 they did not stay their headlong gallop. Much was to 
 be done before the soldiers at the post should be notified 
 of their uprising, and every moment of that stormy after- 
 noon and wild night was to be improved. 
 
 Their plan was to arouse the whole tribe, and make a 
 determined resistance to the white men. All took it for 
 granted that the Agency should be the first point of 
 
76 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 attack ; and, after they had wreaked their vengeance 
 there, they would see what they could do in withstand- 
 ing the soldiers. They did not think much of these 
 after-consequences, their minds being absorbed with the 
 intoxicating prospect of immediate revenge. Having 
 virtually declared war by their rash hanging of Sandy, 
 they knew that the whole tribe would be held responsi- 
 ble, and upon this they based their hopes that the whole 
 tribe would take part in the impending strife. Just here 
 is the secret of all Indian wars. In every tribe there is 
 a young man's party, whose thirst is for war. When 
 these, or any portion of them, have yielded to resent- 
 ment for the countless injustices practised against them, 
 and have taken vengeance upon a white man, the Govern- 
 ment treats the whole tribe as guilty, and sends its 
 armies against the peaceful as well as the warlike. Chief 
 Joseph and many others have urged this anomaly as an 
 excuse for general Indian wars, since it is natural for 
 men of red skin as well as white to defend themselves 
 when even unjustly attacked. The Indian does not 
 stand individually amenable to our laws. If he did a 
 destructive war might often be avoided by the trial and 
 punishment of a single offender, or a few offenders, 
 whom the tribe would willingly give up to justice. 
 
 A few hours brought them to the portion of the reser- 
 vation where the majority of the tribe lived. Strong 
 Foot directed that a few of his better riders should dis- 
 perse upon the several trails, and notify the Indians of 
 what was to be done, and call them to the rendezvous. 
 Every one knew that this would be held on the divide 
 above their leader's tepee, where the council-fire of the 
 young men's war-party had so long been built. They 
 would there decide what was to be done. This an- 
 nouncement would cause intense excitement. The 
 
LITTLE WATTENA. 77 
 
 U-gtha-a, or call to war, had not been shouted for many 
 years on that reserve. Children had grown to maturity 
 without once hearing it uttered in earnest. But all 
 through that dark night they would hear it sounding 
 dismally under the heavy sky, and by early morning the 
 whole tribe would be upon its way to Strong Foot's 
 divide. The women and children would come, and 
 would follow the men into battle. Their part was to 
 carry water, and yell while the braves fought. 
 
 When the messengers had gone the remainder of the 
 party rode forward slowly. There was abundance of 
 time now. They could nurse their rage and perfect their 
 plans. 
 
 " You will join us ?" asked Strong Foot of Noah. 
 
 " I do not know yet," he replied, hesitatingly. " I 
 must go to little Wattena now. I trust the good Wagaza 
 has made her well." 
 
 " But you will come to the war-council ? You will 
 surely be one of us ? You cannot be a sneaking coyote 
 after all that the Wagha has done to you. You cannot 
 desert us basely after all we have risked to save you. I 
 know you have a bear's heart in you, and you will now 
 put the necklace of bear's claws about your neck and 
 prepare for war." 
 
 " I do not know. I must see my little Wattena first. " 
 
 Noah could go no further than this. All the purposes 
 of his life to live peaceably with the white men were 
 now being put to the strain. He felt unspeakably grate- 
 ful to his fellow Mahas for cutting him down, but ho 
 could not persuade himself, now that he had a moment 
 to think, that Sandy's murder was really justifiable. At, 
 all events, lie thought it poor policy. He could not 
 enter into the hopes of his comrades that a conflict with 
 the whites would result favorably to the Red Men. But 
 
78 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 they were all grunting their disapprobation of his ap- 
 parent cowardice, and so he took leave of them, turning 
 the little roan's head toward his home, and riding rapidly 
 away. 
 
 The raging blizzard had settled down now into a steady 
 rain. The change was comparable to what was going on 
 in Noah's mind. It seemed to him that he was coining 
 out of a storm of passion into a mood, dark and bewil- 
 dering indeed, and yet more settled and rational. How 
 far he had taken part in the wildness and excess of his 
 companions Noah could not decide. One thing was 
 certain. He was coming to himself now. He began to 
 feel more sensible the moment he turned the roan's head 
 toward home, and every step she advanced made him 
 more certain of himself. He began to picture his wife's 
 bright smile when she should see him at the door. It 
 seemed years since he had left her. How much she 
 must have suffered during all the long hours ! But it 
 would all be right now, and the little babe would clap 
 her hands and laugh and call his name, as she always did 
 when he came borne. lie laughed up into the teeth of 
 the storm when he thought of it, and sent on the roan in 
 her strongest gallop, in spite of the absolute blackness of 
 the trail before him. The strangling given him had re- 
 sulted in a strange stupor that had oppressed him for 
 hours. He had wanted to go to sleep, and had only been 
 kept awake by a strong exercise of will, and by the ex- 
 citing events that had transpired. All this had now 
 vanished, and he felt his head clear and his heart light 
 as he approached the little farm where he and Wattena 
 had started out to make an honest living. What the 
 consequences of the hanging of Sandy would belie could 
 not tell. He imagined that a mature deliberation of the 
 whole question would calm the warlike dispositions of his 
 
LITTLE WATTENA. 79 
 
 comrades, and he dared to hope that the commanding 
 officer of the post would regard their retaliation upon 
 the ranchmen as only a natural excess of self-defence. 
 
 But why was there no light in his little cabin ? There 
 it must be just there, beyond this ploughed patch. Ah, 
 Wattena and the little babe were probably quietly sleep- 
 ing. The fever was over, and both were exhausted. He 
 would look at them in their slumber, and kiss them and 
 lie down happy at their side. Ha, here is his dog ! It 
 has found its way home. But why is it whining and 
 leaping up to lick his hand ? It mast be because of the 
 rain and the darkness. He will put it and the roan into 
 the barn, and then go in to see the dear ones. The poor 
 dumb creatures must be cared for. They are the rem- 
 nant of all his stock, and his heart warms toward them. 
 But the dog will not go into the barn ; it follows Noah 
 to the kitchen-door, and stands there, howling dismally, 
 in the rain. Poor brute ! It is as truthful a prophet as 
 was Jeremiah ! 
 
 Noah strikes a match in the kitchen and lights a 
 candle. His hand trembles, in spite of all his resolution, 
 for he hears no breathing in the sleeping-room. He 
 ventures to go in. Yes, there is the little babe, and 
 she seems sleeping peacefully. But where is his wife ? 
 
 "Wattena!" he calls. 
 
 Why is it so deathly still, and why does not even the 
 little babe stir ? He puts the candle on a box and looks 
 all around, into the next room, under the bed. 
 
 " Wattena !" 
 
 Still there is no response, and still the babe does not 
 move. The rain is pattering on the roof, but the dog 
 has ceased howling at the kitchen-door. 
 
 He lays his hand on little Wattena's cheek. Yes, it 
 is cold. He takes up one of the little dimpled hands ; 
 
80 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 it is cold, too, and when he lets it go it drops helplessly 
 upon the blanket. He bends down to kiss the lips that 
 so often called him yesterday ; how cold and stiff they 
 are ! Poor little babe, she must have been dead some 
 hours. 
 
 But where is Wattena his wife ? He calls her name 
 in each room, and then dashes out into the storm. 
 Surely she has not gone far. Grief may have driven 
 her out to seek comfort of wild mother nature, but she 
 should be within hearing of his voice. 
 
 "Wattena! Wattena!" 
 
 But there are only the sighing of the wind far up in 
 the vast sky and the pattering of the driven rain upon 
 the grass. 
 
 Then he went in and laid his head down upon the 
 shoulder of the little babe and wept. Why had he 
 escaped death under the cotton wood ? Better to have 
 died then than to live for all this pain and uncertainty. 
 
 "O Wakanda !" he cried, " have I not suffered 
 enough ? Take my babe, but giv^e me back my bride. 
 Let the poor child rest, but send me the mother to com- 
 fort my heart. No more will I hear little Wattena's 
 voice, so sweet, so full of cheer, but do not deny me the 
 strength of a word of love from her who is my life !" 
 
 All night he watched and wept, and at daybreak he 
 laid away little Wattena's body in the earth. Then he 
 surveyed his unkept fields, his vacant barn, and his de- 
 spoiled home. Shall he go to war ? The Hottentot, 
 the Swede and the Englishman may appeal to our United 
 States law for protection in life and property, but this 
 Indian and his fellows, the original owners of the soil we 
 now possess, can lay no claim to legal justice. He must 
 fight or die o r fight and die ! 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ON TO THE AGENCY ! 
 
 ALL through that dark night the startling U-gtha-a* 
 resounded upon the reservation. The messengers rode 
 up to the tepee, or dug-out, or cabin-doors, and gave a 
 yell that no one could mistake. When the aroused 
 sleepers had hurried out they cried to them briefly : 
 
 " A Wagha has been killed ! Come to the war-coun- 
 cil in the morning !" 
 
 Then they would ride rapidly away. 
 
 Old and young prepared to obey the summons. There 
 was no ir ore sleep that night. The fires that had been 
 drenched out by the rain were rekindled of dry stuff 
 which the Indians are always careful to keep within- 
 doors, and blankets or skins were hung over them to 
 protect them. There were muttered speculations as to the 
 origin and outcome of the strife, but all knew that the 
 soldiers would soon be down upon them, and their only 
 safety was in joining the warlike band. Such was their 
 natural love of a wild life that few of them regretted, at 
 this moment, that hostilities had been begun. They 
 were tired of digging the fields without ploughs, and reap- 
 ing their grain with butcher-knives. They were tired of 
 scanty rations and rotten blankets. They were told that 
 they had plenty of money laid up at Washington but 
 how to get at it was the question. Perhaps they would 
 
 * War-c^y. 
 
82 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 find some in the agent's house- At all events, they 
 could be no worse, they argued, than they were at 
 present. There was nothing for it but to iight, and if 
 they were killed it would only be a hastening of an in- 
 evitable catastrophe. They did not put their meditations 
 exactly in this form, but they were of about this half- 
 exultant, half-gloomy character. 
 
 The tepees were taken down, the blankets and bedding 
 were wrapped up in skins and tied with cords ; such 
 supplies of bacon and dried meats as they had were care- 
 fully secured. The long poles to be lashed at one end 
 to the ponies' backs, and at the other to be constructed 
 into a wicker platform, were cut. On these platforms 
 their goods and effects, including the papooses, were 
 piled ; and at the first streaks of day the moving house- 
 holds came out of the valleys of the reserve, and made 
 their way slowly toward the rendezvous. The bucks 
 rode their war- ponies, the squaws either walked or were 
 permitted to ride beside the papooses on the platforms. 
 
 There is something indescribably moving and pathetic 
 about the silent advance of an Indian company in the 
 manner above described. You see all their race's history 
 in their rude carriage, their portable and scanty bundles, 
 and the evident relations of fear between the women and 
 the men. You see their sufferings upon their faces, and 
 their enforced poverty in their garments and effects. 
 You see the pride into which, as a last piteous resort, 
 they have been driven. You see their love of the wide 
 prairie which has been their home, and their tender at- 
 tachment for their children and ponies and dogs. You 
 see a despoiled manhood, a debased but still tender 
 womanhood, and a crushed civilization. Admit him to 
 be repulsive, and, when aroused, bloodthirsty, there is 
 cr in his face, and, above all in his attitude, that 
 
ON TO THE AGENCY ! 83 
 
 appeals to your sensibilities and your instinctive respect. 
 Cooper's poetic admiration of him is not further wrong 
 on one side that the Western ranchman's jocular con- 
 tempt is on the other. 
 
 By nine o'clock the divide above Strong Foot's was 
 crowded with encampments. The storm had cleared 
 away, and the brilliant sun was flooding the wet prairies 
 with twinkling glory. The Indians had not. stopped for 
 breakfast, so that their first attention was now given to 
 satisfying their hunger, and cainp-fires were burning 
 brightly on every hand. After this the bucks assembled 
 in large circles round a huge fire, and the deliberations 
 of the day were opened by the passing of pipes. Then 
 those who had chief's blood in their veins took turns in 
 speaking briefly. One of them spoke as follows, and his 
 speech is a fair sample of all the rest. It is impossible 
 to preserve the poetic beauty of the language he used, or 
 to rightly render his similes and metaphors, but the bare 
 meaning is given : 
 
 " I feel the blood of my fathers stirring in my veins. 
 Since 1 heard the war-cry I have gone back to the brave 
 spirit of our ancestors. The sneaking fox has become 
 the strong bear again, and I am ashamed that I was timid 
 so long. No Maha shall ever have it to say that I died 
 a coo.* I will kill, I will take scalps, I will have 
 blood." 
 
 The Indians granted and nodded their heads gravely. 
 The squaws and children crowded in groups around the 
 outskirts of the council to hear what was said, and at 
 every warlike boast such as this, they broke into their 
 peculiar, blood-curdling yell. 
 
 " Some of the old men here," went on the orator, 
 
 * Coward. 
 
84 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 " knew my father. Umpanuga knew him, and others 
 of you. You played with him in our old Maha village 
 on the banks of the Missouri the village where now 
 stands the great city of the white men. As young men 
 you shot arrows at marks with him, and went out on 
 your excursions against the maelm* and the umpan.f 
 You loved the maidens of the village, and he loved one 
 who was more beautiful than any of her sisters. In due 
 time he bought her to be his wife, and I was their babe. 
 The light of my father's proud eyes, when looking upon 
 me, I have heard described, but I do not remember it. He 
 died in battle with the Sioux. He might have escaped, 
 but he chose to die. I feel his blood in my veins. " 
 
 He paused to let the deep applause of the men and the 
 wild yell of the squaws die away. 
 
 " You know the story well. It was at the time when 
 the Mahas were in deadly enmity against the Sioux. 
 Indeed, there has scarcely been a time when the two 
 tribes have not been at war with each other. But this 
 was when the hatred was at its height. It was the am- 
 bition of the Mahas, as of all Indian tribes, even to this 
 day, to go into the camp of the enemy walkiag and 
 Some out riding. Now it happened that our father heard 
 that a band of Sioux had come down from the north on 
 a hunt, with many splendid shongas.^: This was enough 
 to fire their desires, and a band of the bravest young men 
 organized to walk into their camp and come out riding 
 upon their sbongas. My father was of the company, 
 and a particular friend of his also went. These two had 
 been joined together since childhood in the closest affec- 
 tion. It was destined that they should not be separated 
 in death. 
 
 * Bear. f Elk. i Ponies. 
 
ON TO TUB AGENCY ! 85 
 
 "When everything was ready, the party, about one 
 hundred and twenty in number, crept down cautiously 
 toward the Sioux encampment. 1 have been told that it 
 was on a dark and stormy night such an one, perhaps, as 
 that which lias just swept over us. The women followed 
 their husbands and lovers into the danger, but they left 
 the babes behind. This is why I am here to-day to tell 
 you the story, for 1 was then a babe, and my mother left 
 me in the hands of an old nurse. The darkness and con- 
 fusion of the storm favored their advance, and the men 
 had reached the centre of the Sioux camp before they 
 were discovered. 
 
 44 Ah, but they were discovered. A clog heard them, 
 and growled, and, in an instant, their enemies were 
 aroused and after them. Being on foot, it being their 
 pride and ambition so to be, they were at great disadvan- 
 tage. The Sioux were encamped in a little valley, out 
 of which our fathers were not able to escape. They took 
 refuge on a hill within the valley, and piled up heaps of 
 stone, behind which they could hide and fight. Scarcely 
 had they succeeded in this when the Sioux came sweep- 
 ing up on their shongas and surrounded them. War was 
 then carried on in the good old way by bows and 
 arrows, knives and tomahawks and for three days and 
 nights the battle lasted. In the daytime arrows sped 
 swiftly in every direction, and many a proud Sioux fell 
 headlong to the earth. My father was a true shot, and 
 whenever his bow twanged our mothers would shout the 
 U-gtha-a, for they knew that the arrow would reach a 
 heart." 
 
 At this boast the squaws took up their yell again, very 
 much as their ancestors had done in the battle described. 
 
 " Our fathers suffered greatly from lack of water. 
 There was no spring on the hill, but a little stream flowed 
 
86 A TIMID BRAYE. 
 
 at a short distance, and to this it was necessary to go for 
 a supply. This dangerous tri p our mothers took. What 
 would they not dare or suffer for their husbands ? Their 
 hearts were as the hearts of the she-wolves for their 
 mates or their young. Many a brave Malia woman stole 
 away during those terrible nights, and never came back 
 again. They would be watching for her, and would by 
 and by hear a scream, and then the Sioux whoop, and they 
 would know what had happened. But some would come 
 back. How glad they would be, and how exultingly 
 they would shout the U-gtha-a as they came up the hill ! 
 And how eagerly would the thirsty warriors swallow 
 their allowance of the precious water ! 
 
 " On the afternoon of the third day my mother said 
 that she would go. The suffering of the men was becom- 
 ing terrible, for a hot sun had come out, and was blazing 
 down upon them. The water that had been obtained 
 had all been given to the warriors not a woman had 
 tasted a drop. But the excitement, the anger, the exer- 
 tion, and, above all, the heat, rendered their thirst so 
 great that what had been obtained served rather as an 
 aggravation than a relief. We can know, for ourselves, 
 how it was. Have we not felt something of the same 
 when heated with the fierce hunt of the antelope and 
 the deer ? How cool and strong the streams seemed, and 
 how we drew in the waters as if to cool our very souls ! 
 Think what must have been the agony of three days and 
 nights of far fiercer exertion, with only a few drops to 
 satisfy their longing. So my mother said that she would 
 go. It was broad daylight, but something must be done 
 at once. She slipped away as quietly as she could, my 
 father watching her with both love and apprehension in 
 his eyes. 
 
 " There were clumps of sage-brush growing on the 
 
ON TO THE AGENCY! 87 
 
 side of the hill, and as my mother passed one of these a 
 Sioux warrior sprang out of it. He had been in hiding 
 there, and wanted to show his bravery by exposing him- 
 self near the Malms and taking a Maha life. With a 
 frightful yell he sprang upon my mother, and plunged 
 his knife into her back. She fell forward on her face 
 without a moan. Quick as his knife could be withdrawn, 
 and could be made to fly around her brow, he took her 
 scalp, and, holding it up toward the hill, cried : 
 
 " ' I have the Maha scalp ! 1 have the Maha scalp !' 
 
 " But be was not to boast long. As the hawk swoops 
 down on strong, fierce wing upon the prairie-dog, my 
 father sprang upon him. It seemed but three leaps that 
 he took from the hill. He struck his tomahawk into the 
 Sioux's brain, while yet the words were on his lips, 
 snatched his scalp, caught up the body of my mother, 
 and with it ran back to the hiding-place on the hill. A 
 hundred Sioux rose out of the sage-brush and sent arrows 
 flying after him, but they only cut away a feather from 
 his plume." 
 
 Again he was interrupted by the yells of the Maha 
 squaws, who had heard the story a hundred times, but 
 never felt their blood warm to it as now. 
 
 " My mother lived a few minutes after being carried 
 in, and murmured her Dta-wa-e on my father's breast. 
 Then they laid her away under some rocks, and over her 
 silent body my father fought that afternoon and during 
 all that night as he had never fought before. But on 
 the next day they determined to abandon their retreat. 
 Like bears when driven out of their lair they would fall 
 upon the Sioux. Everything was arranged for the dash. 
 The women and children were put in the centre. The 
 braves were scattered about them. The plan was to rush 
 down suddenly, burst through the Sioux lines, and then. 
 
88 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 scatter like quails to Lido and escape, one by one. They 
 thought they could all get out of the valley before the 
 Sioux could get their shongas to pursue them. 
 
 u The dash was successful. The Sioux were taken 
 completely by surprise, and not a few of them were cut 
 down by the Maha knives and tomahawks. But the 
 escape by scattering was not so well accomplished. 
 There was such a large number of the enemy that a 
 dozen could pursue each fugitive. And so there were 
 fierce fights and many of our ancestors fell down in death. 
 For when the ants swarm in thousands out of their holes 
 they may pull down and devour even the beetles. 
 
 " It was in one of these contests that my father died. 
 I have spoken of his friend. They had fought side by 
 side, and when they made the dash they still were near 
 each other. This friend was not married, but he was a 
 lover. His little maiden clung to his side, and as they 
 ran he assisted her all he could. He and my father were 
 the swiftest runners in the whole tribe, and had it not 
 been for the maiden they both might have escaped. As 
 it was, my father outran the Sioux shongas and reached 
 a river and hid in the bushes. There he was safe ; and 
 when night came he might have crept away to me, his 
 babe, but, looking back over the prairie, he saw his 
 friend, with the maiden clinging to him, surrounded by 
 the Sioux. He was fighting bravely, striking them down 
 as the stalks of corn go down under the sharp hail. But 
 my father could not see him fighting alone. He came 
 out of his hiding-place, ran back to his assistance, and 
 died by his side. And on the breast of his friend the 
 maiden died, murmuring i Khta-we-tha, Khta-we-tha.'* 
 
 u I feel my father's blood in my veins." 
 
 * " I love thee ! I love thee !" 
 
ON TO THE AGENCY ! 89 
 
 The effect of tin's story was various. Some of the 
 older men were swaying backward and forward in the 
 excitement of warlike recollection. The younger men 
 ground their teeth in warlike anticipation, and the women 
 kept up their yell. There were other speeches made 
 and other stories recited, but they were all of this general 
 character. 
 
 Soon after noon the line of advance was formed under 
 the direction of Strong Foot. Noah had not made his ap- 
 pearance, much as* they had desired it. And, in his ab- 
 sence, Strong Foot was appointed leader by general con- 
 sent. A band of the most splendidly decked warriors rode 
 first. Then came the women and children and baggage. 
 After this rode the remainder of the warriors, as if to 
 guard the rear. They presented a fine appearance as 
 they advanced slowly over the bright grass and wound 
 down into the valleys. It seemed more like a holiday 
 pageant than a serious attempt at war. Yet the cry now 
 and again was : 
 
 " On to tlie Agency ! On to the Agency 1" 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 AT THE AGENCY. 
 
 SUCH is the perfection of communication among civil- 
 ized peoples that all the world knew that afternoon that 
 the agent of the Mali as was in danger of his life, although 
 he was entirely ignorant of it himself. The stories 
 flashed across the land were of the wildest sort. The 
 Fabers were not sure of Sandy's death, but they were 
 pretty well convinced of it by his long absence. Of 
 course they said nothing in the dispatches of the hanging 
 of Noah. All the blame was thrown upon the Indians. 
 They were described as having been uneasy for several 
 weeks on account of the failure of the ranchmen to meet 
 all their demands for cattle and provisions. They were 
 said to have risen suddenly and dashed down upon the 
 whites, who were fleeing for their lives. The wildest 
 confusion was said to prevail along the whole Maha 
 border, and a demand was made for the assistance of the 
 United States troops, and the removal of the Indians to 
 the Indian Territory. Commenting on this demand, the 
 editors all over the land defended it as eminently reason- 
 able, and the Mahas were raved against as insatiable 
 and blood-thirsty savages, who were only good when dead. 
 
 The day had passed in its ordinary monotony at the 
 Agency. The family in the large, comfortable residence 
 was a happy one. It consisted of the agent, his wife, 
 two daughters and an aged grandaunt. The immediate 
 contact with civilization was denied them, yet they were 
 
AT THE AC1EXCY. 91 
 
 able to enjoy many of its comforts even in that far land. 
 Tlii-ir home was substantially and even elegantly fur- 
 ni<liiul, a piano and Brussels carpets being the principal 
 items, of which the latter seemed by far the most won- 
 derful to the Indian children, who had never seen such 
 gaudy ilowers before. The daughters had adorned the 
 walls with many products of the pencil and the needle, 
 and if you could have looked into that sunny home that 
 afternoon you would have had difficulty in believing that 
 it. was situated five hundred miles from any considerable 
 city. 
 
 The grand-aunt was greatly afflicted by rheumatism 
 and fear of the Indians. She had no sympathy from the 
 remainder of the household on either account. They 
 were all hearty and well, enjoying wide excursions over 
 the bright Nebraska sod, and having no anticipation of 
 aching joints. And they only laughed at auntie's fear 
 of the Indians. In common with all the miners and 
 ranchmen of the West they entertained a jocular con- 
 tempt for the Red Man, laughed at his anger, and despised 
 his threats. Particularly would the agent's daughters 
 shake their shapely sides and contort their pretty faces in 
 their merry ridictile of auntie's fears. They had lived 
 there eight years, and no harm had come to them. Why 
 should they begin to be afraid now ? And were not the 
 soldiers just at hand to protect them ? This latter con- 
 sideration was supposed to be especially weighty with 
 one of the young ladies, who blushed and simpered 
 whenever a certain officer's name was mentioned. And if 
 she were accused of a particular interest in that direction 
 she retaliated by naming a young man in the East who 
 was a prolific penman, and this would cause her sister to 
 look guilty and charming. And then the mother would 
 laugh, and the father would rub his hands, and auntie 
 
92 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 would sigh for the good old times and good old boys ;j 
 and, altogether, it was a happy home. 
 
 The agent was not a bad man at heart. His position 
 was understood to yield him a round ten thousand a 
 year, though his salary was -only fifteen hundred. But 
 a man must support his family and provide for old age. 
 Beside this, the political party to which he belonged 
 must be supported, and out of the Indian funds a large 
 revenue was drawn. He had spent considerable money 
 in getting his appointment, and it was, of course, only 
 right to get it back again. Other men had done the 
 same when they had the chance, so that he was con- 
 soled by the never-failing consideration that he was 
 neither better nor worse than his fellows. And, last of 
 all, he took pride in the fact that he was simply the 
 victim .of circumstances. The Indians were meant by 
 Providence to be plundered. The country would never 
 be settled until they were out of the way. To be sure, 
 he admitted, and he and the doctor had just been talking 
 about it to-day, that it was hard on the Indians to be 
 thrust off their reservations. There was just as good 
 land everywhere around, but the ranchmen would not 
 take it. They wanted just what the Indians had. And 
 where was the use of opposing Anglo-Saxon energy ? 
 said the agent. Or, as the doctor put it, " Where was 
 the use of flying in the face of Providence ?" 
 
 Along in the afternoon the agent had gone over to the 
 carpenter's shop to talk about the wire screens that were 
 to be put into his residence for the summer. This shop 
 was a great gathering-place for the men, so that it was 
 natural for the doctor and the farmer and the two farm- 
 hands to stroll in during tlie conversation. The black- 
 smith had gone away on a hunt. They were laughing 
 and smoking, and did not at first notice a band of ad- 
 
AT THE AGENCY. 93 
 
 % 
 
 vance Mahas riding up threateningly to the agent's resi- 
 dence. The farmer was the first to see them. 
 
 " My God ! That looks bad !" he cried. 
 
 They all started up, and the agent ran out as if con- 
 templating an attempt to reach his home. But the 
 others drew him back. 
 
 " "We must stay here in the shop and defend our- 
 selves," cried the carpenter. 
 
 " It is our only chance," said the farmer. 
 
 This seemed reasonable, and the agent allowed himself 
 to be persuaded ; though, as he turned back, the tears 
 started to his eyes, and he exclaimed : 
 
 " O my God, take care of my family !" 
 
 They went back into the shop and began to fortify it 
 as best they could. Fortunately the carpenter had his 
 gun in one corner, with a good amount of ammunition ; 
 so that, if worse came to worst, they could do something 
 toward defending themselves. The agent said he did 
 not give up hope that he could satisfy the Indians by 
 gifts and promises. But there was no mistaking their 
 warlike intentions. Their number was rapidly increas- 
 ing, and by and by the squaws and children came up, so 
 that it was evident that the whole tribe had risen. The 
 house was surrounded, and, while the men brandished 
 their weapons and rode here and there, the women took 
 up their frightful yell. Even from the shop they could 
 hear that they were demanding the agent, and the poor 
 man was deathly white, but calm and brave. 
 
 " Would it not be well for me to show myself ?" he 
 said. " Perhaps they would listen to me. I would agree 
 to anything." 
 
 " Let us call them into council and get them well- 
 drunk," suggested the pious doctor, whose teeth were 
 chattering in his head. 
 
94 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 "That wouldn't work," replied the carpenter, who 
 Lad been many years among the Indians. " Nor would 
 it do to show ourselves. This shop is the strongest made 
 affair on the grounds, an' we may be able to defend our- 
 selves until the soldiers come. At all events, we can 
 parley with 'em better here than we can outside." 
 
 " But my poor wife !" cried the agonized agent. 
 " And my children, and my aunt ! What will become 
 of them ? O my God!" 
 
 " They're safer alone than as if you were with them," 
 said the carpenter. " I don't think they'll touch 'em. 
 We men have got to defend ourselves or die, that's all. 
 I'll take the gun, 'cos I'm the best shot, an' you each 
 take up what you can lay hands on." 
 
 They followed his directions. The agent armed him- 
 self with a hewing-axe, the farmer took a hatchet, and 
 the hands were content with long knives that they found 
 in a hunting-jacket. One of them had a revolver, also, 
 but only the six shells that were in it. This was the sum 
 of their means of defence. What were they iu comparison 
 with the splendid array of Remington rifles with which 
 the Indians were provided ? There can be no greater 
 shortsightedness than the issuing of rifles and ammuni- 
 tion, instead of farming implements, to our nation's 
 wards. The design is, probably, to provide them with 
 the means of hunting, so that they may be oif the hands 
 of the agent for a large portion of the year ; but the re- 
 sult often is that the white men are made the game. 
 
 Meanwhile, the demands for the agent were being re- 
 peated with even greater fierceness over at the house. 
 At last he saw his wife's white face appear at a window, 
 and she shouted something down to Strong Foot, who 
 stood directly under her. What she said they could not 
 hear, but she had evidently told them, in her distressed 
 
AT THE AGENCY. 95 
 
 confusion, that her husband was not there. She hoped 
 thus to save botli him and themselves, for in her heart 
 slu was praying that lie had gone away from the Agency, 
 and would escape. But she only hastened the catas- 
 trophe. The Indians separated with a yell, and began 
 to examine the other buildings, and some of them even 
 rode out into the fields in search of the object of their 
 anger. 
 
 At length a few of them rode up to the shop. He 
 who was to have married little Kathewana, Great Bear 
 by name, was of their number, and acted as their leader. 
 He rode up to try the door, but before his hand touched 
 the knob the carpenter cried out : 
 
 " Let be there, ye damned Injun ! Git off a bit, or 
 I'll put a bullet through ye !" 
 
 Great Bear gave a yell of triumph, and retired with 
 his band to a short distance. He took it for granted that 
 the agent was with the carpenter and the others. They 
 yelled again and again, and soon had Strong Foot and the 
 whole tribe with them before the shop. They were all 
 hideously daubed with colored earths red and yellow 
 predominating and what with this and with their hatred 
 and savage lust for blood, they presented a terrifying and 
 awful appearance. The poor agent breathed fast, and had 
 suddenly grown wofully haggard about the eyes. The 
 doctor was moaning and sobbing in a corner, entirely 
 unmanned. The hands were working hard to keep their 
 lips moist, and their knees steady. Only the carpenter 
 and farmer were composed and firm. 
 
 Great Bear was directed by Strong Foot to advance to 
 the door of the shop and say : 
 
 " We want the agent. No one. else will be touched 
 if he is given up. We want him for his robbery of us. 
 We will protect him as he has protected us," 
 
96 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 There was a brief consultation within the shop. It 
 seemed best all around for the agent to step to the win- 
 dow, and speak to the messenger. To deny his pres- 
 ence would never do. The matter must be faced, and 
 now was the time, and he was the man to do it. 
 
 " I am here, Great Bear," he said, as he showed him- 
 self. " And I am ready to hear your complaints." 
 
 " You have heard them more than once," said Great 
 Bear. " We cannot repeat them now. The stream in 
 the canon may moan ceaselessly to the rocks, but we 
 have stopped our moaning. Your heart has been the 
 rock. "We are ready to act, not to talk. ' ' 
 
 " But you have not given me time to settle your com- 
 plaints," said the agent. " I have written to the Great 
 Father. It takes many days and nights for word to come 
 from him. I would be glad to give you farming imple- 
 ments and plenty of seeds, and all your annuities if I 
 only could. 1 have to act by law ; and law is slow." 
 
 " But the ranchmen tried to hang Noah. This is the 
 last nip that has made the bear turn on the sneaking 
 coyote." 
 
 " Tried to hang Noah ! When ?" 
 
 " Yesterday." 
 
 " I did not know of it. Even if I had known of it I 
 could not have prevented it. Why should you hold me 
 responsible for what I cannot help ?" 
 
 Poor man ! His plea was sound, but the jury were 
 not in a mood to entertain it. 
 
 " You represent the Great Father," said Great Bear. 
 " You are the only part of the Government we see. We 
 never asked for an agent, but you were sent to us. As 
 you stand for the Government you must take the blame 
 of it." 
 
 The Indian spoke with wonderful moderation, consider- 
 
AT THE AGEXCY. 97 
 
 ing his errand and the preparations he and liis fellows 
 had made to carry their purposes into execution. As the 
 agent did not reply at once Great Bear retreated to con- 
 sult with his leader. In a few moments he advanced 
 again, and said : 
 
 " Strong Foot tells you to come out. If you do, your 
 wife and children and the others will not be harmed. If 
 you do not we will destroy you all. The time for talk 
 is past, now there must be deeds. Even the prairie-dogs 
 cease to chatter when the snake has wound himself into 
 their home. Why should not we ?" 
 
 This last simile was too much for the carpenter, and, 
 without considering the consequences of his rash act, he 
 levelled his rifle and shot Great Bear through tlie heart. 
 The Indian threw up his hands and dropped forward 
 upon his face. 
 
 In an instant all was confusion. A volley was fired 
 into the shop, which did no harm save the wounding of 
 the agent's left hand. The squaws took up their yell 
 afresh, and the bucks advanced in a mass upon the build- 
 ing. The carpenter did his best with his rifle, and when 
 it came to close quarters they all fought with desperation, 
 but it could end in only one way. The agent and the 
 carpenter were killed outright, the others were taken 
 captive, and the shop was set on tire. Then a rush was 
 made back to the house where the women were, and the 
 frantic savages exposed the bodies of their victims where 
 they could be plainly seen from the windows. Their 
 yells of triumph and defiance were terrific, and a barrel 
 of whiskey, which they had discovered in the storehouse, 
 added not a little fuel to the flame of their passion. 
 
 But who is this that comes timidly up to Great Bear's 
 lifeless form ? Once she spoke to him boldly, and 
 laughed into his face as if she had a right to. They 
 
98 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 whispered of love and happiness. They mapped out all 
 the future and planned an eternity, almost, of joy and 
 pleasure. They would have this and that in their cabin. 
 They would plant this and that in their fields. They 
 would ramble here and there in search of delights. The 
 morning should smile for them and the evening should 
 have no weeping. Tier eyes were brave then and did 
 not need to turn away. 
 
 Ah, but then had come a time of trouble and bitter- 
 ness. How could poor little Kathewana deny the 
 Wagha ? She had been taught from her infancy to sub- 
 mit to him. She had supposed that his word was law. 
 Long training had impressed his authority upon her, and 
 when he required even that submission which her soul 
 loathed, how could she refuse ? Then Great Bear had 
 turned his face away from her. She had become timid 
 and affrighted. The world grew all black and the light 
 all came out of the sky and the very flowers hissed at 
 her. O Wakanda, what was she worth ! She cared 
 nothing for man's opinion, she gave up both body and 
 soul to the whim of the all-authoritative Wagha. 
 
 But now Great Bear was her own again. She could 
 gaze into his dead face without flinching. There was 
 nothing there to make her tremble and feel ashamed. 
 She had always loved him, and now that he was with 
 Wakanda he knew it. He knew the whole history. He 
 would excuse her and love her. And she would go back 
 over the weary trail and live as she had done in her in- 
 nocence. Yes, she would do just that. And oh, what 
 a comfort it would be ! 
 
 She sat down upon the ground there before the shop 
 and drew his dear head into her lap. She kissed the 
 chalked brow and temples as if they had been a king's. 
 She patted his cheeks and cooed in her love for him, and 
 
AT TIIE AGEXCY. 99 
 
 her hot tears fell upon his face, locked in the grandeur 
 and solemnity of death. Then she swayed back and for- 
 ward and sung his Dta-wd-e : 
 
 " Thou wast grand and noble, my Great Bear, my 
 Machu machu.* Thou wast too good for little Kathe- 
 wana. But thou knowest all now, and 1 am understood. 
 Teach the doves love and you may teach me. Of thee, 
 Great Bear, have I thought and agonized. But now thou 
 art gone. The heavens that the Wa-ga-zaf tells us of 
 have received thee. Bravely didst thou live and bravely 
 didst thou die. Let the free winds of the prairies whis- 
 per thy praise. In all my life will I weep for thy love." 
 
 In the general confusion of passion this tearful, sway- 
 ing maiden presented a strange- but pathetic contrast. 
 
 * Lit. "Bear-bear" or "Noble bear." ^Repetition is Indian em. 
 phasis. 
 
 | Missionary. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 " A MOMENT'S JOT TO WAIL A WEEK." 
 
 IT would be difficult to believe that tlie half -jocular, 
 half -frantic creatures before the agent's house were 
 human beings. They shot recklessly through the win- 
 dows, they yelled and danced, the women forming circles 
 round the building and the men riding in wider rings. 
 No attempt was made to defend the place, though a 
 shot was fired from a window by one of the agent's 
 daughters. This produced no effect save to arouse the 
 Indians to greater frenzy. Soon after the shot a rash 
 was made upon the main entrance, and a moment later 
 the four women were dragged out, screaming and strug- 
 gling in terror. The fright of the great-aunt was espe- 
 cially diverting to the squaws, and more than one old hag 
 yelled in her ear to see her start and tremble. 
 
 In times of triumph the Indians derive great amuse- 
 ment from the terror of their victims. Their sense of 
 the ridiculous is by no means meagre or ill-developed, 
 though it is an open question whether they are justifiable 
 in the means they often employ to tickle it. On the 
 present occasion all the captives, including the doctor, 
 the farmer, the farm-hands, and the women, were turned 
 over to the squaws, and great was the entertainment they 
 derived from tantalizing them. 
 
 On the doctor particularly they wreaked a summary 
 and suitable vengeance. Two of the strongest squaws 
 held him down flat on the ground, while the others 
 
"A MOMENT'S JOY T O w.vir \ V^E." 1CU 
 
 poured the several bottles of licjuicb and t>o\v\lciV com- 
 posing his stock in trade down his throat. He was con- 
 servatively allopathic, but not to the extent of the present 
 treatment, consequently he fell into a stupor after the 
 tenth bottle, and never revived. The glee of the old 
 squaws over their stiffening victim was something fright- 
 ful, and struck the other captives with horror and de- 
 spair. No violence was done to them, however, save that 
 the women were almost stripped of clothing by their 
 savage sisters, who coveted their several articles of wear- 
 ing apparel. 
 
 Meanwhile the men were arranging for a war-dance. 
 The barrel of whiskey had been well-nigh exhausted, so 
 that they were all in a suitable frame of mind for an un- 
 paralleled demonstration. Jocularity continued to vie 
 with fiendish cruelty in their boasts and actions. They 
 laughed and raved, they stormed and jested, they caught 
 up the white man's oaths and hurled them at each other 
 and at the captives. And though all seemed confusion, 
 it was still evident that one portion of the agency grounds 
 was being prepared under Strong Foot's directions, for 
 the scene of the grand dance. This was a level stretch 
 of sod about two hundred yards in diameter. Here 
 stood a liberty-pole, erected by the command of the 
 agent, from the top of which a flag was even then float- 
 ing. 
 
 Around this pole the Indians were piling sacks of flour 
 and cured sides of pork taken from the rifled storehouse. 
 They had built a sort of rude altar of dry wood under 
 these, so that the intention evidently was to set the 
 whole mass on fire by and by. In amongst the flour 
 and meat a broken barrel or box was now and then thrown 
 to assist the conflagration. A couple of casks of kerosene 
 were also added, and when the pile was complete it 
 
102 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 In 1 if. yray i;p to the flag. This emblem of 
 authority and protection had not been noticed until now, 
 but it was immediately drawn down, and Strong Foot 
 wrapped it round his swarthy person to increase his dig- 
 nity and importance. 
 
 Some of the larger lads had not been content to wait 
 until the general destruction of the provisions had com- 
 menced. On their way to and from the storehouse 
 several feints of friendly battle had been made. Then 
 .came more real demonstrations, until at last sacks of flour 
 and strips of bacon were converted into instruments of 
 war, and everywhere around groups of more or less 
 severe contest were formed. To these battles the girls 
 contributed their shrill yells, very much as their mothers 
 had encouraged their husbands in the larger strifes. 
 Through these means the ground was besprinkled with 
 flour and pieces of pork were scattered around. When 
 this fact became known to the editors of the great papers 
 they denied that the Mahas could have been hungry and 
 poor at the time of their uprising. If it had been so, 
 they argued, the Indians would have carefully preserved 
 the provisions taken from the agent. This conclusion, 
 however, does not follow. TTe must take into account 
 the unthinking frenzy into which the Indians were 
 wrought by long years of exaction and robbery. The 
 future was forgotten and all thought was given to a 
 momentary vengeance. But all this proves nothing in 
 reference to what had been their former sufferings for 
 lack of the very supplies they were destroying. To be 
 sure it was a pity to have so much wasted. The flour 
 was damaged and had been bought at a bargain by the 
 agent in Minneapolis. The pork was rancid and rotten, 
 and had cost little or nothing in St. Louis. The trader 
 had thought them good enough to sell to the Indians at 
 
" A MOMENT'S JOT TO WAIL A WEEK." 103 
 
 a high price ; and now the Indians thought them not too 
 good to be destroyed : yet it was a pity. 
 
 At length everything was ready for the dance. A 
 number of rude drums were hammered by the musicians 
 of the tribe as a signal to all to collect around the pole. 
 The bucks took their station for the dance, the squaws 
 squatted in circles, with the captives in front to enjoy 
 a full view, and then Strong Foot gave the signal to 
 begin. The pounding of the drums was renewed, and 
 after many grimaces and bows and grunts "to the wit- 
 nesses the bucks began their triumph- dance. At first 
 their step was slow and regular as much so, at least, 
 as the state of their heads, after an experience with the 
 whiskey-barrel, would permit. They circled round the 
 pole, taking short steps, rising on their tiptoes now and 
 then, and occasionally wheeling and bowing to the com- 
 pany. Their motion was very like what may be seen in 
 the South in the first stages of a colored dance. In fact, 
 the same free and simple manners and movements are to 
 be observed in the dances of all lands where the people 
 are rustic and half -civilized. 
 
 Gradually, however, the braves increased the vehe- 
 mence and recklessness of their movements. Their 
 moderation at first had evidently been imposed by strong 
 will or by stronger custom. They now began to abandon 
 themselves to a violent expression of the triumph they 
 felt at having hanged Sandy, killed the agent and the 
 carpenter, and burned up the shop. The yelling of the 
 squaws increased in frightful ness as they saw the zeal 
 and fire of their fathers and husbands inerease, so that it 
 had no\v become almost sufficient to stop the blood of 
 the stoutest heart. The braves went through every 
 variety of motion that excitement could suggest. They 
 leaped and whirled and swayed, they contorted face and 
 
104 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 body, they swung their arms and clapped their hands and 
 sprang into the air. Some of them had dried scalps 
 that had been handed down as precious heirlooms in 
 their families, and these they flung into each other's 
 faces and shouted the names and exploits of their ances- 
 tors who had taken them. Strong Foot, wrapped in the 
 stars and stripes, took the lead, and excited admiration 
 for his strength and agility, not only in the eyes of the 
 little daughter of Umpanuga, but also in those of the 
 whole company. 
 
 Through all this frightful confusion the captives sat. 
 The agent's wife was dissolved in tears, and did not 
 seem to pay much attention to the dangerous scene be- 
 fore her. One of the daughters was endeavoring to con- 
 sole her, the other was gazing wistfully out upon the 
 clear, bright prairie, in hopes that a certain officer would 
 come to their rescue. The attention of the great-aunt 
 was principally engaged in the attempt to hide her aged 
 knees from observation and from cold in the folds of the 
 scanty apparel left her. She was heard to murmur : 
 
 " Dear me ! I shall certainly have another attack of 
 the rheumatism after this day's doings. I always told 
 them so, but they would never believe me. Now they 
 see that I am right. "What an awful howling ! And it 
 must be near supper- time I am so hungry. Dear me ! 
 I guess we won't get any supper. I wish I were back 
 in Pennsylvany. But I guess I will never get there 
 either ! O dear, what shall I do ?" 
 
 Then she fell to weeping also. 
 
 The male captives knew their clanger better and held 
 their peace. They could not tell what moment the in- 
 furiated Indians might dash upon them and bury their 
 knives in their hearts. After their own manner, there- 
 fore, they prepared for death, arranging their thoughts 
 
 
" A MOMENT'S JOY TO WAIL A WEEK." 105 
 
 and committing their souls into the hands of the infinite 
 Power above us, whom all men acknowledge but vari- 
 ously name. 
 
 At last the dancers were exhausted and sank upon the 
 grass. Fresh whiskey was brought to them, and many of 
 them rolled over and fell into a heavy sleep. Strong 
 Foot and a few others remained awake, however, and 
 carefully guarded the captives. Then the opportunity 
 of the squaws came, for, the dance being over, the fur- 
 ther proseoution of vengeance was committed into their 
 hands. And if the men were violent and unthinking in 
 their destructive work the women were tenfold more so. 
 They went about their task with more system. Noth- 
 ing escaped them, nothing was spared. The great mass 
 of provisions around the pole was first touched with fire, 
 and then the squaws scattered in parties to ransack the 
 whole agency and tear and burn everything level with 
 the ground. 
 
 Night had now come on. It was one of those won- 
 drously, brilliant nights that spread themselves above the 
 Nebraska prairies. You seem to see more stars than in 
 the East, and they appear vastly nearer. You have an 
 impression that you can stand on tiptoe and toss your 
 head into the very midst of them and drink in the 
 bright, intoxicating air that surrounds them. The long 
 divides, covered with buffalo-grass, shine under the 
 sparkling effulgence. The horizon is marked and dis- 
 tinct all the way around. The meadow-larks have ceased 
 their cheery melody, and the thrushes twitter no more 
 in the trees, and all the wild birds have sought rest in 
 branches or on the ground. The wind sighs, as if to 
 make up for the loss of their songs, and the coyotes 
 howl dismally in the distance. It was on such a typical 
 N>brjMka ni^ht as this that the Maha pquaws began their 
 
106 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 work of destruction, and surely the calm stars never 
 looked down on more frenzy, malice, and vengeance 
 than they displayed. 
 
 The mass around the pole burned slowly at first. The 
 wood would have blazed up, but many sacks had burst, 
 so that the flames were nearly smothered by the flour. 
 A dense smoke rose from the first and floated grandly 
 away toward the northwest. There were many tiny ex- 
 plosions, and many showers of sparks bursting out on 
 every side, to the delight of the papooses. Then the 
 sacks caught and their contents began to glow and snap. 
 Then the fat pork took fire and sent up such a volume 
 of smell and smudge to heaven as nothing else could 
 make. At last a hole was eaten into a corner of a 
 kerosene cask, and, with a sudden flare, the hissing 
 streams of fire ran over the whole mass, setting all to 
 blazing together. The whole company were compelled 
 to fall back to a greater distance on account of the in- 
 creased heat, those who could stand dragging or assisting 
 those who were more drunk. Yell after yell arose in 
 triumph, and countless pistol-balls were shot into the 
 burning mass in the most reckless fashion. And the 
 exultation of the mob knew no bounds when at last the 
 graceful pole, which had stood so long and up whose 
 sides the long, quivering fires had been creeping, was 
 burned through and fell crashing to the earth falling, 
 as the Indians say every tree should, with the wind. 
 
 The attention of all was next turned toward the 
 traders storehouse, which had been fired by the squaws 
 and now began to burn sharply. The doctor's house, 
 tho blacksmith-shop, and the large barn where the coun- 
 cils had been held followed. As each one of these began 
 to blaze the mob surged, yelling, toward it, dragging the 
 forlorn captives along. The agent's poor wife had left 
 
"A MOMENT'S JOY TO WAIL A WEEK/' 107 
 
 off her weeping and did not seem to be conscious of the 
 dreadful panorama that was going on before her, save that 
 slit> was seen to shudder when she was dragged past the 
 embers of the carpenter-shop, where her husband's body 
 was smoking. Every barn and shed and building was 
 consumed after having been invaded and carefully plun- 
 dered. For if the men in their part of the work had 
 been improvident, the squaws more than made up the 
 mistake. The little pigs were the special dainties, and 
 more than one of the old hags was to be seen running 
 about with a struggling porker under her arm. 
 
 The agent's house was reserved for the last. It had 
 been thoroughly rummaged, and every portable thing 
 had been carried away. The blankets and the Brussels 
 carpets were the objects of the most desire, and strips of 
 the latter were seen, from that day on, garnishing the 
 heads of the aristocratic Mahas. At last the torch was 
 applied to the building. It had stood for several years in 
 the dry Nebraska atmosphere, and burned like tinder. 
 The flames burst savagely out of the windows and ran 
 along the eaves and perched upon the roof. All the 
 frightful splendors of a great conflagration were seen in 
 miniature. There was enough of the building to make 
 draughts, and no attempt was made to stop the progress 
 of the flames The floors and roof fell in with a succes- 
 sion of crashes, flaming portions of the walls tumbled 
 out upon the grass, and when everything had been eaten 
 through there was a final collapse ; and then the agent's 
 beautiful home lay in smoking fragments on the ground. 
 It seemed to take but a few moments to do it all, so 
 powerful is a maddened savage's torch in destroying the 
 products of civilization's patient toil. 
 
 Then the exhausted mob sought such quarters for the 
 night as could be obtained. A few spread their tepees. 
 
108 A TIMID BRATE. 
 
 some took refuge under the trees that the agent had 
 planted and the fires had spared. All threw themselves 
 upon the ground and were soon fast asleep. 
 
 The captives were carefully tied and placed in a circle 
 of sleeping squaws. They were allowed some liberty in 
 choosing their places and modes of rest, but it was evi- 
 dent that they had no chance of escape, for the slightest 
 motion on their part awakened one of their vigilant 
 guard. The great- aunt went to sleep bemoaning the 
 certainty of her having the rheumatism in the morning. 
 The farm-hands did not long remain awake, and even 
 the agent's daughters finally succumbed to the excessive 
 weariness of the day and slept in each other's arms. 
 But the mother could not close her eyes. All the ter- 
 rible scenes through which she had just passed were too 
 real and vivid to her. Her happiness with her husband 
 that very morning, their conversation together, the fun 
 they had cast at poor auntie for her fear of the Indians, 
 their employment during the first part of the day, and 
 the quiet and home-like dinner they had had all these 
 remembrances came before her. Then had come the 
 sudden catastrophe. The awful truth bursting upon her 
 that the Indians had risen and had attacked the Agency, 
 their parley from the window, the fatal mistake in saying 
 to Strong Foot that her husband was at the shop, the 
 rush of the savages thither, the fall of Great Bear, the 
 attack and the quick conflagration through all these 
 things did she seem to live again. The subsequent 
 events were not so real to her. She felt as if she had 
 dreamed them ; and she was in no condition to define 
 her own prospects of safety or to think connectedly of 
 her own danger. 
 
 But whatever the future had in store for her, she was 
 glad to have these few moments of quiet and thought. 
 
109 
 
 The niglit had grown older, but unlike the maids of all 
 lands had lost none of its brilliant beauty. Could it be 
 that all that she had seemed to see that day had really 
 taken place ? Some of the familiar trees were still nod- 
 ding over the Agency lawn. There were the well-known 
 hills, and in the distance she could hear the surge of the 
 constant river and the monotonous tumble of the worn 
 banks into it. Ah, but the doctor's house and the shops 
 and the barns yes, and the dear home where she had so 
 long lived, were all in ruins, and from their hot founda- 
 tions a smoking trail was swaying up into the sky. O 
 God ! it was all real ! It had all happened ! She 
 moaned in spite of herself, and was only brought to 
 recollection and to quiet by a cruel cuff and an oath 
 from one of the squaws. 
 
 Thereafter, as the unfamiliar morning stars wheeled 
 into their places, she thought much and wept, but wag 
 careful not to moan. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A DECISION. 
 
 MEANWHILE Noah had b*een searching for his bride. 
 After covering up his little first-born babe in the earth, 
 he had surveyed his home and fields a moment and then 
 started westward. Why had he gone in this direction ? 
 What was this sad certainty upon his face ? Why did he 
 draw in his breath so fiercely, and what did he mean by 
 such imprecations as had never crossed his lips before ? 
 To be sure little Kathewana had told him that the party 
 of white officers were to be encamped over in this direc- 
 tion, but what had this to do with his present precipi- 
 tate search and his manifest excitement ? * 
 
 It was the very morning when Strong Foot's band was 
 forming for a raid upon the Agency. Noah saw some of 
 the parties wending their way along the distant valleys, 
 but, in his present mood, he rather gloried in the attack 
 which they were about to make. Not that he felt that 
 he could join them yet. There was one point that he 
 must settle before he would be ready for such ex- 
 treme measures, even if he were then. He must find 
 Wattena, and must know why she had deserted their 
 little home at such a sad moment. She had never done 
 such a thing before. She had always been faithful to 
 him and brave in trouble more brave than he. How 
 could even so great a sorrow as the death of little Wat- 
 tena drive her into a frantic flight ? 
 
A DECISION". 1H 
 
 As he paced along over the bright grass, among which 
 wild ilowers were peeping, his mind went back to the 
 h:i|>py love-days when he had first wooed her. They 
 were mere children when they had begun. Together 
 they had taken wide journeys over the prairies, hunting 
 for dandelions and daisies and the twelve-speared buffalo- 
 grass. "With their cheeks touching each other they had 
 sat on the banks of the Missouri or Niobrara and won- 
 dered to see the eddying current sweeping away. At 
 such moments they had talked of what they would do 
 when Noah had become as strong as the current. They 
 would have a little home of their own. They would be 
 happy in each other's love. The wild stories of the 
 "Wagha's cruelty must be more than half false, and 
 nothing of the kind would ever come to them. 
 
 Then Noah had gone east to school, among the first of 
 those sent by the Government. His little sweetheart 
 had watched for him wistfully through three long years ; 
 and when he came back, with his strange power to use 
 the English language and with his mysterious learning, 
 she had gazed at him wonderingly out of her great, black 
 eyes. She had been faithful to him, though her beauty 
 had drawn upon her many offers from the young men of 
 the tribe. Had he forgotten her ? Ah, no ! He clasped 
 her to his heart and whispered the sweet Khta-we-tha in 
 her ear. Then she had smiled and forgot her timidity, 
 and grew proud that so learned a man was to be her hus- 
 band. The mystery that he knew so much had not 
 grown less, but she seemed to come lip nearer to him by 
 her strong desire to learn a little of his wisdom and by 
 her ennobling love of him. 
 
 After this he had gone away to act as guide and inter- 
 preter for General Crook and other great commanders. 
 The story of his exploits reached Wattena, and with 
 
112 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 what pride did her bosom swell ! His very deeds were 
 hers because he was hers. For his part, he thought con- 
 stantly of her sweet face as she waited for him in the 
 little Maha tepee. After the hard ride of the day he 
 would look up into the quiet stars and imagine that he 
 could see Wattena peeping among them. He carefully 
 hoarded his wages to build a house when they were mar- 
 lied, and in anticipation he lived a thousand times their 
 wedded life, which could not be other than happy. 
 
 And they had been married by the good Wagaza. 
 They wanted a Christian ceremony, as they intended to 
 lead a Christian life. But what had it all amounted to ? 
 Here he was racing over the prairie alone, his babe 
 under the sod and his bride missing. Every attempt he 
 had made to better himself and be a man had been met 
 with failure through the lack of legal protection. He 
 had seemed to run against high rocks at every turn. He 
 could not make a contract, he could not buy or sell to 
 the best advantage, since he was compelled by law to 
 deal with the trader. All his good intentions had been 
 balked, and all his fair prospects had miscarried, all his 
 possessions had been stolen. Before the law he was not 
 an individual, and how could a nonentity hold its own in 
 the fierce strife for worldly gain ? 
 
 How far he went on in his mad eagerness he did not 
 kno\v. The miles did not count in his present mood. 
 He held his course steadily to the westward. He did 
 not call, but he felt sure that he would find her. With 
 his sharp eyes he kept glancing here and there ; not a 
 tall stand of wild grass escaped him, not a clump of 
 ea^e-brush was ignored. "Wherever a woman could hide 
 
 O c5 
 
 or be hidden he penetrated and explored. And at last 
 he was rewarded ! Yes, at last, at last ! Over behind a 
 little hillock, where a fresh spring burst from the sand 
 
A DECISION. 113 
 
 and gravel, he found liis poor, distressed Wattena. She 
 had thrown herself forward on her face and seemed to 
 be sobbing or asleep, he could not tell which. 
 
 "Wattena!" 
 
 She did not stir. He sprang to her and rolled her 
 over upon her tack. Yes, thank God ! she was still 
 breathing that was a comfort. But she was uncon- 
 scious, and her eyes were staring and her parted lips were 
 trembling in a half-felt agony. How sad and distressed 
 her dear, familiar face looked against the bright grass ! 
 How often had he seen her long, beautiful hair tangled 
 amongst the buffalo-spears in just that way, and yet how 
 different it seemed now that no smile was on her face ! 
 
 His first care was to dash some water from the spring 
 into her face. Still she did not move. Again and again 
 did he throw haudfuls of the clear, cold water upon her 
 brow and cheeks. 
 
 " Wattena ! My own wife, open your eyes ! Do 
 you not know me ? Wattena ! Wattena !" 
 
 "At last, at last !" she groaned, and opened her great, 
 wondering eyes. She did not seem to recognize him at 
 first, and passed her hand in an absent-minded way over 
 her brow. 
 
 " What is the matter, Wattena?" continued Noah. 
 "Why are you here? why did you leave the little 
 babe?" 
 
 " The little babe !" she murmured, slowly. " What 
 of her?" 
 
 " Yes, the little babe, our own sweet little Wattena. 
 Do you not know that her body is cold and her spirit has 
 gone to Wakanda ?" 
 
 " Wakanda !" she repeated, abstractedly. " There is 
 no Wakanda, for my Noah says so. 5 ' 
 
 " Oh, I did say so, but I did not mean it. It was 
 
114 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 when the Wagha had treated me badly and I did not 
 know what I was saying." 
 
 " Treated you badly !" cried the woman. " And 
 have they not treated me worse ? I could tell you " 
 
 At this she stopped suddenly. She had half raised 
 herself on her elbow, but now she started and stared and 
 sank back again, murmuring : 
 
 " It is he. It is my own Noah.' ' 
 
 " Yes, dear wife, it is your own husband. Tell me 
 what has happened ! Tell me why you are here !" 
 
 She looked at him a moment as if to collect her senses, 
 and then, with a strong, deliberate effort, tore aside her 
 dress and showed a deep stab in her breast. 
 
 " My God !" cried Noah, " how did this come about ? 
 Speak to me, Wattena ! Tell me !" 
 
 He had not noticed the pool of blood under her left 
 side. He had not noticed one of his own hunting-knifes 
 half hidden under the folds of her skirt. 
 
 She made an effort to answer him, but her words were 
 faint. She smiled and pointed upward and felt for his 
 hand, as if to bid him a long farewell. But he was not 
 satisfied to have her sink away thus. He hastily rolled 
 up his coat and made a pillow of it for her head. He 
 pressed a few swallows of the cool water down her throat 
 and applied what means his simple knowledge afforded 
 to restore the circulation and prolong the life of his 
 dying wife. 
 
 " Come, "Wattena," he urged ; " arouse yourself and 
 tell me what has happened. For my peace of mind, for 
 our little babe's sake, tell me ! Who has injured you ? 
 Who has taken your life from me ?" 
 
 " The "Wagha have injured me ! But 1 have taken 
 my own life !" 
 
 She had aroused herself to say this much in defence of 
 
A DECISION. 115 
 
 her reputation. And the glaze of death in her eyes 
 gave way for a moment to a noble, indignant light. 
 
 " Tell me all about it, 1 ' cried the husband, agoniz- 
 ingly. " What about little Wattena, our babe ? How 
 did she die ? What did she say at the last ? Did she 
 call for me ? Did she want to see me ?" 
 
 These questions seemed to arouse her more than any- 
 thing else. What will call a mother back to earth more 
 effectually than thoughts of her babe ? This Indian 
 mother, on that far-away Nebraska grass, collected her 
 senses almost in a moment at recollection of those last 
 hours in their cabin, and with almost a return of full in- 
 telligence, began her story as follows : 
 
 " Oh, dear Noah, have you come at last! Kiss 
 me, my own, my husband ! 1 have so much to tell you. 
 It seems to me the wild grass has grown a foot in 
 the valleys since 1 saw you. And I have not long to 
 stay with you now, have I, husband ? I must tell you 
 how it was. I want you to know, so you will not blame 
 me." 
 
 She gazed steadily and intelligently at him now out of 
 her great eloquent eyes. He could not keep back the 
 tears, though he tried to hide them from her lest he 
 should increase her misery. 
 
 " I had been watching through the dark hours for 
 yon," she went on. " The little clock that you said re- 
 minded you of the white man's homes had been ticking 
 and striking for oh, so long ! Then came the good 
 Wagaza. lie said you had sent him to me. But where 
 you were he could not tell. He thought it strange that 
 you had not come home before him. But when he 
 looked at our poor little babe he said plainly that she 
 could not live. He did all that he could I cannot tell 
 you how much, for I must hasten. Then he spoke kind 
 
116 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 words to me, and when lie could stay no longer he rode 
 away toward the mission." 
 
 She panted a little now, and he held the cool water 
 again to her lips. 
 
 " All through that long night and far into the next 
 day, I watched beside our babe. Almost every moment 
 sbe called for you. 'Papa will come,' I said to her, 
 over and over again. And then she would smile and 
 try to clap her hands. ' Will you be glad to see papa ? ' 
 I asked. c Yes, yes,' she would say. And then I would 
 go to the window- and watch the divides, and wonder 
 why you did not come. 
 
 " At last she did not recognize me. I called to her 
 and held up the dandelions which she always loved so 
 much, but they did not attract her attention. Once she 
 said, f I see papa ! ' and smiled. Then I held her hand 
 until she ceased to breathe, and the whole house and sky 
 grew black. But you must not cry so, my husband !" 
 
 Well has it been said that in the churchyard all the 
 sighing is above the ground, and equally is it true that in 
 the presence of death all the crying is on the part of those 
 who live. Noah could not keep back the hot, bitter 
 tears that sprang to his eyelids, nor could he prevent the 
 violent shaking of his strong frame under a stronger, a 
 merciless emotion. 
 
 " But I must tell you, husband," the dying woman 
 went on ; " the pure light of the sky that we have so 
 long loved is darkening around me, I must tell you the 
 rest. I know you will not blame me. You have always 
 been kind and good to me, and you will understand me 
 you will believe me. 
 
 " When I was sure that the little babe was dead I ran 
 out upon the prairie. I wondered why you had not 
 come, and was in an agony to know what had befallen 
 
A DECISION. 117 
 
 yon. I threw my cries up into the face D Wakanda, and 
 I made the very prairie ring with ray moans and calls for 
 you. It seemed to me I could not bear all the sorrow 
 alone, and I felt that I must have you at my side to 
 strengthen and support me. How far I went I do not 
 know, but one of the officers met me. He asked me 
 whom I was seeking, and in my agony I told him that 
 my husband was away, and I knew not what had be- 
 come of him. " 
 
 " ' Is not his name Xoah ?' said he. 
 
 " < Yes,' said I. 
 
 " ( He is over here to the westward,' said he. ' Come 
 with me and I will bring you to him.' 
 
 " He was on a beautiful horse, and 1 followed as fast 
 as 1 could. My whole mind and heart were centred on 
 seeing you. The turning of the wild sunflowers was 
 never more true to the sun than was my desire for you. 
 But when we came to this very spot he suddenly sprang 
 from his horse. Before 1 noticed him he had caught 
 me by the shoulders and was trying to press me down 
 upon the grass. Wakanda knows I was amazed and 
 startled. I thought of you, my husband. I thought of 
 my poor dead babe, back in our cabin. I thought of 
 Kathewana and her endless grief. I knew that the 
 "Wagha must be obeyed or death would come. I chose 
 death. Fortunately I had one of your hunting-knives 
 in my pocket, and, holding it up, I cried to him to leave 
 me to my grief or I would plunge it into my heart. He 
 laughed and stepped toward me. You know an Indian 
 woman's courage, Noah. I did not hesitate. I thought 
 of you. I prayed Wakanda for you. Then I felt myself 
 pierced, and I fell forward to the earth." 
 
 The last few sentences were spoken spasmodically and 
 in the greatest agony. Her throat was parching and the 
 
118 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 death- damp was gathering upon her brow, and all the 
 solemn dignities of the Last Enemy were being painted 
 on her cheek. 
 
 " Do you forgive me ?" she whispered as her very last 
 request. 
 
 " Forgive you, Wattena !" cried her weeping hus- 
 band. " What have I to forgive you for ? Go to your 
 long rest in peace. Through all my life will I love you. 
 Through all my life will I sing you Dta-wd-e." 
 
 She has gone. She felt his kisses on her lips and 
 cheek, and that was enough. She smiles in her sleep, 
 and from afar comes the sweeping, the fragrant prairie- 
 wind, telling of a living Infinity and a happy eternity. 
 
 Noah stands up now, takes a long breath, and looks 
 around him. Oh, how he loves Wakanda ! Oh, how 
 he hates the Wagha ! The saying in the Good Book 
 that we cannot love the God whom we have not seen unless 
 we love the men whom we have seen, has no meaning to 
 him. He has associated the religion of Christ with the 
 white men, and while he clings with the utmost tenacity 
 to the thought of a heaven with Wattena and the little 
 babe, he is very sure that no Wagha will ever be admitted 
 into that fraudless abode. The religion may all go, but 
 the vast hope of a hereafter must be cherished by him 
 as by all other men. He will think over all the minutiae 
 of dogmatics by and by. One thing is certain, if the 
 white men can go to heaven and yet practise a hellish 
 treachery, he can be sure of paradise and yet wreak a 
 substantial and justifiable vengeance. 
 
 His first care is to lay his wife away just as he had 
 done his babe. What amazing changes a few days had 
 wrought ! But he must not think of this now. He 
 must see that everything is arranged rightly. Eternity 
 is within a stone's throw and must be provided for. He 
 
A DECISION. 119 
 
 takes the bride in his strong arms and bears her to the 
 top of the hillock. There he digs a grave, and, planting 
 many a kiss on the calm lips, he lays her away. When 
 the earth has all been filled in again he straightens him- 
 self up and sings wildly, striking himself on the face and 
 temples : 
 
 " My hope has gone out like a camp-fire in the early 
 morning. What have I done to be coyote's meat ? My 
 bride is gone, my babe is gone and here am I. 1 have 
 been the Wagha's friend. I have saved his wife from 
 drowning. I have guided him to victory. I have 
 helped him in success, 1 have succored him in sorrow 
 and defeat. What can I do more ? And for all. this, 
 my lands, my barns, my yards, my household even, 
 have been made his prey. His avarice has impoverished 
 me, his lust has ruined me. 1 stand alone. Why 
 should I not join the war party ? I can command re- 
 spect for my rights only so long as I inspire fear by my 
 rifle. Let it be so ! I only pray that before many years 
 have passed those of my blood may stand with equal 
 rights with the Swede and the Hottentot before the 
 United States law. I am now for war." 
 
 He started back toward his desolate home. He must 
 get his rifle and the little roan and his dog, and then he 
 would cut loose from the past and plunge into a new 
 order of things. He knew what the result would be, 
 but he was content. Out of the sky two smiles encour- 
 aged him to war, just as they had lately done to cultivate 
 his fields. How could he help feeling that he was doing 
 his duty ? 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " HALE FELLOWS, WELL- MET." 
 
 THE next morning the camp of the officers, so fre- 
 quently referred to in these pages, was early astir. Their 
 leave of absence was exhausted, paid they were to have a 
 hearty breakfast and then ilde back to the post. They 
 had had an elegant time, and evidences of their success 
 and of their methods of rejoicing in it were to be seen in 
 mingled feathers, skins, and bottles, everywhere around. 
 
 A camp of such hunters in the early morning may be 
 compared to the resurrection-day there are some awful 
 disclosures in it. They very probably went to bed the 
 night before with no very distinct idea of the fitness of 
 things, so that everything was left just as it was, to tell 
 a plain tale now. The few faithful privates who were 
 of the party had done their best to straighten up ; but 
 they had not had time to make a complete job of it. 
 
 " By Jove ! Dan, this looks rather bad," said one of 
 the young officers to another, as they both yawned and 
 stretched themselves. 
 
 " Decidedly. It would be a good plan if we could 
 see everything by morning light. That is, it would be 
 if we wanted to be perfect." 
 
 " Gad ! Dan, aren't we perfect ? What in the way 
 of improvement would you suggest to me, now ? Come, 
 speak up like a man or rather like a mother." 
 
 " A little less sherry," said Dan. 
 
" HALE FELLOWS, WELL-MET." 121 
 
 " And a little less port," suggested another, who had 
 overheard the conversation. 
 
 " And a trifle less old rye," said a third. 
 
 " And not so much squaw," added Dan. 
 
 " By Jove !" cried the original speaker, who gloried 
 in the name of Spunker, " you are turning a running 
 fire on me, boys. But the last shot doesn't take effect. 
 I missed my squaw yesterday." 
 
 " Do you mean to say that she actually killed her- 
 self ?" asked Dan. 
 
 " Of course I do. Stabbed herself before my very 
 eyes. Didn't I tell you so ?" 
 
 " Yes ; but you were so full last night that we hardly 
 knew whether to believe you or not." 
 
 They all laughed at this, but Spunker was serious. 
 
 " It's a fact, boys," he said. " Gad ! but she was a 
 daisy ! I just couldn't keep my hands off her. And I 
 had no idea she'd be so squeamish about it. This fancy 
 that some philanthropists have that the Ute women are 
 killed for unchastity is all bosh, and I know it. You 
 needn't laugh. What I mean is, that I have been out 
 amongst them on duty, and well, have seen something 
 of their ways. TBut this squaw yesterday beat my whole 
 record. Gad ! what eyes she had ! And what a form ! 
 And I thought I was going to play such a clever trick 
 on her." 
 
 " What did you tell her ?" 
 
 " Well, you see, I didn't want to run the risk of hav- 
 ing the old man come in on us, and when she said that 
 he was away I told her to come over this way and I 
 would find him for her." 
 
 " Breakfast is ready, sir," said the private who acted 
 as cook, touching his cap. 
 
 " All right, let us sit down. I want some coffee as 
 
122 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 soon as I can get it, to set my head straight. Put a tea- 
 spoonful of brandy in my cup, d'ye hear, Brown ?" 
 
 "Never mind your brandy, go on with your yarn. 
 We want to see how straight you told it last night. 
 Throw some butter at me, will you 7 Cooper ?" 
 
 " Well," continued Spunker, munching a biscuit, 
 " when I got to a quiet spot I thought I would try it 
 on. Maybe I went at it a little too brusque, but the 
 squaw just flung me off and yelled something in her 
 infernal Maha that I couldn't understand. That made 
 me mad, and I took a jump at her. By Jove ! how her 
 eyes shone ! Honestly, fellows, though she was a squaw, 
 I never saw anything more beautiful than her face and 
 pose, as my artistic sister would say, at. that moment. 
 I felt ashamed of myself in an instant. But it was too 
 late to apologize even if I had known her cussed lan- 
 guage. I think I did yell to her to hold on, but " 
 
 " These particulars are quite new," laughed his com- 
 panions. " You forgot them entirely last night." 
 
 " Never mind last night, boys. I'm giving you the 
 ptraight of it now. The next instant she jammed a knife 
 into her heart and tumbled over, dead. I looked to see 
 if she were really dead. There was no mistake about it. 
 But she was the first squaw I ever knew to act that 
 way." 
 
 " Here we have a scientific fact worth remembering," 
 said one of the company. "It is an exception to a 
 great rule, and the exceptions in this world take off the 
 honors, though they may prove the rule." 
 
 Spunker was now allowed to eat his breakfast in 
 quiet, and Dan was placed on the witness-stand. 
 
 " How about oar little Nellie, over at the Agency, 
 Dan ? You were the prime mover in this hunt, and 
 you have never gone near her. No trouble, I hope ?" 
 
" HALI2 FELLOWS, WELL-MET/' 123 
 
 Dan blushed and swallowed a great gulp of scalding 
 coffee. 
 
 " Everything is smooth, so far as I know," he said. 
 " But sometimes a fellow's heart fails him, you know. 
 We haven't all got the cheek of Spunker. " 
 
 " That's so, too. But you have made it all up with 
 her, havenH you ?" 
 
 "Yea." 
 
 " You anticipate matrimony ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " She anticipates matrimony ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Why in the devil haven't you been over to see her, 
 then ?" 
 
 " I am going to-day, when I see you fellows all 
 safely packed off toward the post. Spunker is such a 
 charmer that I have been afraid to be seen starting 
 off in any direction, lest he should follow and cut me 
 out," 
 
 " Or cause your girl to cut her own heart out. But 
 how about your leave of absence ?' ' 
 
 " I asked for one day more than the rest of you fel- 
 lows." 
 
 "And?" 
 
 " And I got it." 
 
 Spunker now woke out of an absent-minded discussing 
 of a biscuit and cried : 
 
 " Did we not learn somewhere in our West Point 
 course that labor conquers all things ? By Gad ! Dan's 
 experience proves that amor should be substituted for 
 labor in the honored quotation." 
 
 Meanwhile the extemporized orderlies were packing up 
 the things and tying them into bundles to be put on the 
 backs of the pack animals. 
 
124 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 " By Jove !" cried Spunker, suddenly, " what are 
 those devilish Indians doing over there ?" 
 
 All eyes were turned in the direction indicated, and, 
 sure enough, a band of about forty Mahas was stationed 
 on one of the near divides, looking toward them. They 
 seemed to have come unexpectedly into view of the camp. 
 It was not their way to ride thus boldly up to an enemy ; 
 but now that they were seen, they were evidently discuss- 
 ing what plan of attack to pursue. There was no mis- 
 taking their warlike intentions, and, under Spunker's 
 directions, the officers prepared to defend themselves. 
 
 " 1 guess I have got you into it, boys," said Spunker. 
 " But let us make a brave stand. They are two to 
 our one, but that is not bad odds. Brown, you get the 
 horses into that hollow, where they will be under cover 
 of our guns. And come, boys, let us make a barricade 
 of our bundles of camp-stuff. " 
 
 They worked hard, for the Indians were stripping for 
 the attack. Many of the officers had fowling-pieces as 
 well as rifles, so that they stood a double chance of vic- 
 tory in case they carne to close quarters. When they 
 had made a circle of their luggage they crouched down 
 within it, and, with ammunition all ready, they awaited 
 breathlessly the assault. They did not know of the 
 uprising of the Mahas, but took these warlike demon- 
 strations as caused by the amatory exploit of Spunker. 
 On the contrary, this party had been sent out by Strong 
 Foot for the very purpose of attacking the officers, with- 
 out knowing anything of the killing of Wattena. 
 
 " Gad ! Dan," Spunker was whispering, "it is 
 strange that Noah is not with yonder crowd, if I am to 
 blame for this trouble. You know Noah, don't you? 
 Do you see him amongst them ?" 
 
 " He is certainly not there I know his figure well, 
 
" HALE FELLOWS, WELL-MET." 125 
 
 though their faces seem about the same to me," replied 
 Dan. " See, they're going to do the thing up in the 
 regular circle style. It will make the light longer, but 
 rather more favorable for us, because we can pick them 
 off one by one." 
 
 "With a frightful yell the Indians had started on their 
 fleet ponies in a wide circle round the position of the 
 whites. They rode single-file and in a stiff gallop, bend- 
 ing far down on the outer sides of their ponies and rest- 
 ing their rifles across the animals' necks. They did not 
 fire until they had made one circuit and were starting on 
 the second. Then their leader threw up his arm and 
 cried : 
 
 "Keda!"* 
 
 Instantly a blaze sprang from each pony's neck, and the 
 bullets whistled round the ears of the white men. No 
 harm was done, however, and Spunker directed that 
 they reserve their fire until the Indians should ride 
 nearer, for their circles would be smaller and smaller. 
 This was their method. And they made a thrilling and 
 }et a beautiful picture as they wheeled round arid round 
 the camp, shooting incessantly. Their gay rigging, their 
 excited ponies, and their splendid riding, and all set off 
 against the brilliant green of the vast prairies beyond, 
 made a scene that the officers could not look on without 
 admiration, even though their lives were in danger. 
 
 At last they had come so near that Spunker thought it 
 would be well to fire a volley into them. He directed 
 the whole company to mass quietly in one spot, and when 
 the Indians passed to fire together. 
 
 " They cannot all escape," he argued. 
 
 The officers accordingly crept together, and as their 
 
 Fire. 
 
128 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 yelling enemies passed the point opposite, they let every- 
 thing go in a simultaneous blaze. Two of the Indians 
 fell heavily to the ground, and one of the ponies was 
 disabled. The brave little shongas from which their 
 riders had fallen went off whinnying on the prairie, 
 their noses cast up toward the sky and their heads sway- 
 ing from side to side. Nothing shows the power of man 
 more vividly than the difference in gait and attitude be- 
 tween a riderless horse and one held and directed by a 
 strong, skilful hand. 
 
 The Mahas continued their ride and kept up their 
 firing, though as yet they had done nothing but wound 
 one man in the arm. The white men, however, had an 
 immense advantage, not only in their defence of bundles, 
 but also by reason of the skillful volleys which they 
 poured in upon the unprotected enemy. Fully a dozen 
 of the Indians had fallen to the earth, either dead or 
 wounded, when a signal was made by the leader, and the 
 attacking party drew off as if to consult what would 
 better be done. They rode back to the divide upon the 
 top of which they had first been seen, and drew together 
 into a council, their panting shongas standing in wide- 
 legged fatigue under them. 
 
 Just at this moment a solitary horseman was seen rid- 
 ing swiftly over the prairie toward them. He had a 
 splendid pony under him, and was coming on with the 
 speed of the wind. His hair was flying and his swarthy 
 face was turned up toward the bright sky. lie seemed 
 under an inspiration, whether of devotion or of hatred 
 could not be told at this distance. He was terribly in 
 earnest, that was evident ; it was also certain that he 
 was on the side of the Indians. His color indicated it, as 
 well as the course he took, direct to their parley ing- 
 point. 
 
" HALE FELLOWS, WELL-MET. " 127 
 
 " My God ! it is Noah !" cried Spunker. 
 
 Yes, it was .Noah. His warlike instincts had brought 
 him over there, and the little roan had done her best to 
 have him there in time. 
 
 " Now look out for hard fighting, boys," said Spunker, 
 whose conscience seemed to be troubling him. " Noah 
 has joined them, and he is a perfect demon. Make every 
 cartridge tell, and, above everything else, shoot Noah on 
 the tirst opportunity." 
 
 His prediction of hard fighting was not long in being 
 fulfilled. The coming of Noah was hailed with yells by 
 the Indians, who had no skilled or acknowledged leader 
 with them. Strong Foot had led the main band over to 
 the other side of the reserve to burn up Faber's ranch, 
 and had committed the task of attacking the officers to 
 a small band with only an inferior commander. The 
 whole tribe recognized Noah as a presiding spirit. How 
 opportune, therefore, was his coming at this moment of 
 apparent defeat. 
 
 It did not take long for Noah to comprehend the state 
 of affairs. He saw at a glance that their best chance of 
 success was in a sudden and persistent attack, in which 
 their numbers might be expected to overpower the 
 officers. He was in a sufficiently reckless mood him- 
 self, and he soon inspired the remainder of the party 
 with a headlong, unthinking courage. Putting himself 
 at their head he wheeled them into line for a direct as- 
 sault, and, with a yell that seemed to make the very hills 
 quake, they came on. The officers had time to send 
 three volleys into them ; the Indians shot once, and then 
 it came to a harid-to-hand tussle. In this the Indian* 
 had an immense advantage. Every one had his toma- 
 hawk and his long hunting-knife, while the white men 
 had not brought their swords, and could only club their 
 
128 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 rifles or use such indifferent weapons as they could catch 
 up about the camp. In spite of all Spunker's entreaties, 
 therefore, about two-thirds of the white men backed off 
 toward the gully where their horses were, and getting 
 into saddle, rode away as fast as their animals could carry 
 them, pursued by a squad of howling Indians. Among 
 the number was Dan, and though the race lasted for a 
 dozen miles, they finally escaped and carried the first 
 news to the post that the Mahas were unfriendly and had 
 probably risen. 
 
 Spunker and a few others stood their ground. When 
 their fellow-soldiers had deserted them they knew that 
 they would have a hard tussle of it, but it was now too 
 late to retreat. They struck right and left, and fought 
 as brave men, but it was no use. One after another was 
 killed until, at last, only Spunker remained. 
 
 Strangely enough, his antagonist was Noah. They 
 had seemed to come together necessarily, as being the 
 leaders of the opposing forces. The white man had an 
 axe, and Noah a tomahawk and a knife, and now they 
 stood at bay, panting after a severe hand-to-hand en- 
 counter. The other Indians showed 110 disposition to 
 interfere, and it was understood on all sides that this 
 was the last act of the whole engagement. 
 
 When they went at it again the white man was the 
 aggressor. He had glanced wildly about him as if to 
 estimate his chances of escape, and then, with a terrible 
 oath, he sprang upon the Indian. For five minutes they 
 leaped here and there, giving and parrying blows. At 
 last Spunker reached his enemy with a glance stroke in 
 the shoulder, and the same instant Noah buried his long 
 knife in his antagonist's heart. By what strange decree 
 of Nemesis this came about may not be declared, but 
 Buch was the fact. 
 
" HALE FELLOWS, WELL-MET. " 129 
 
 Then came the scalping of the dead, the stripping of 
 their bodies, the appropriation of their camp goods ; and 
 the next moment the Indians were a speck of blurred 
 crimson on the northeastern horizon. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE TIDE RISING. 
 
 WHEN Noah and his party reached the main body of 
 their tribesmen, encamped near where Faber's ranch had 
 lately stood, they reported the successful encounter with 
 the officers and the fact that henceforth their new leader 
 would join them in war. Both of these items were wel- 
 come news. Particularly were the Mahas pleased that 
 Noah would take part in their uprising, and by general 
 consent lie was installed as commander-in-chief. Strong 
 Foot yielded the pre-eminence gracefully, and was con- 
 tent from that moment to act as lieutenant ; so nicely 
 does popular sentiment among the Indians grade their 
 warriors as to skill and bravery. 
 
 The conversion of Noah to warlike sentiments was 
 thorough. He had always gone into things with his 
 whole heart, and this new occupation was to be no ex- 
 ception. The slowness of his conversion only made the 
 process more sure. Accordingly, he set about his new 
 duties with the same energy and foresight that had 
 characterized his saving of the white man's family from 
 the flood, his attaining an education, his enthusiastic 
 farming, and the other more or less successful exploits of 
 his life. 
 
 Tho first thing, of course, was to make a speech. 
 He called the principal men of the tribe together, there. 
 
THE TIDE RISING. 131 
 
 fore, and when a squatting council had been duly con- 
 stituted, he addressed them as follows : 
 
 " You all know me and the struggles through which I 
 have passed. The whistling reeds in the ponds have not 
 been, more bent and torn than I. Some of you thought 
 me a coo,* and some thought I did not love rriy race. I 
 may say this day that you all were mistaken. I was the 
 Wagha's friend. I was disposed to give him a fair trial. 
 I foolishly thought that he would keep his treaties. But 
 their own officers acknowledge that the Government has 
 not kept a single treaty with us. "What has befallen my 
 race on large scale has come to me in miniature. Not 
 a hope I had of the Waghahas been fulfilled. I wanted 
 to be a decent man. I wanted to support my wife and 
 baby as a Christian should. Why had I not the right to 
 do so ? You know what has been the outcome of it all. 
 My babe is under the sod, my wife stabbed herself to 
 escape the Wagha's lust, my stock has been stolen all 
 except my little roan and my dog my fields lie deso- 
 late." 
 
 A moan broke from the braves assembled in council, 
 and the outer circle of squaws took it up in a great, 
 sweeping wail, until the vast prairies re-echoed with their 
 untaught but pathetic cry. 
 
 " You have seen, on winter days," went on the 
 orator, " a single stretch of snow played upon by the 
 wind. Little ridges were formed, valleys were scooped 
 out, gaunt peaks were left tottering, and all the sharp 
 magnificence of a mountain range in miniature was cut 
 by the facile air of heaven at your very feet. You could 
 match what you saw before you in many a range of great 
 hills. So has it been with my life. It has been a small 
 
 * Coward. 
 
132 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 copy of the troubles and privations that have afflicted 
 my race. I have wept the tears that our fathers have 
 shed. I have felt the same pangs that pierced them. 
 There is not one of you that has sorrows but I suffer 
 them as well. So, I am your brother and 1 will be your 
 liel per. 
 
 " We have now gone to war, and nothing remains but 
 to fight it out as long as we live. There can be but one 
 end of it. The great sun will always drink up the little 
 pond. The mighty bear will in the end crush the worm 
 with his paw. We can only hope to wreak our ven- 
 geance, and then we must die." 
 
 Noah said all this with perfect calmness. He stood 
 up straight and made a few gestures with that wild grace 
 and stateliness which only an Indian is capable of. His 
 strong figure and his brave, intelligent face presented a 
 heroic sight in the midst of the miscellaneous crowd of 
 Mahas, and set off against the vast prairies beyond. He 
 had always looked at things squarely, and he was now 
 giving them a fair statement of the difficulties in which 
 they were involved. 
 
 " My plan is to send the women and children, with the 
 captives, far up to the northwest, where the bad lands 
 and the rocks are. There let them carry provisions, and 
 make a strong retreat. The braves will go forward with 
 me, and let the younger women and maidens, who can 
 ride as well as men, accompany us to take up our- national 
 war-cry. We shall need them to encourage us. And 
 they will not impede us. in our retreat. Then, when we 
 have wreaked what vengeance we can upon the ranch- 
 men and settlers, we will fall back to our stronghold and 
 there make good our defence or die. The she- wolf runs 
 back to her lair after she has snatched what crumbs of 
 meat she can for her pups why should not we ? If she 
 
THE TIDE RISING. 133 
 
 can defend herself there with her sharp teeth and claws, 
 why should not we ? We can try, at least." 
 
 This plan met with general approval, and Noah im- 
 mediately set about seeing it carried into execution. It 
 was a task of no small dimensions to prepare the squaws 
 and children for a flight of two hundred miles to the 
 rocks. Fresh platforms of wicker-work had to be con- 
 structed to convey the luggage and the feeble folk all 
 that distance to the chosen retreat. Provisions had to be 
 collected and carefully prepared for the long journey. 
 The husbands and sons who were to ride forward into 
 the fight had to select such condensed food as they could 
 carry. And then there were farewells to be spoken, 
 though Indian custom and tradition allowed no scenes. 
 Noah's little roan was seen dashing hither and thither, 
 carrying her master, upon whom depended so much the 
 safety and salvation of his people. It was no inappro- 
 priate thing for Noah to exercise command. He had 
 chief's blood in his veins. All the chiefs of the Mahas 
 had resigned under promise that the United States law 
 should be extended over their tribe. This promise had 
 never been fulfilled, yet the chiefs had not assumed their 
 authority again. Noah felt, however, that his blood 
 gave him the right now to act as a father and a leader to 
 his people, and he threw himself into his new duties with 
 all the enthusiasm he was capable of. 
 
 It required two full days to put everything in readi- 
 ness for the great flight. On the morning of the third 
 day the whole company that was to retreat was drawn 
 out upon the prairie and the word given to advance. It 
 was a strange, amoving picture. War generally tears 
 out the active half of society, but it does not send the 
 domestic half upon a perilous journey of hundreds of 
 miles to select and fortify a place of safety in case defeat 
 
134 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 is the issue of the contest. These Indian women were 
 going to prepare a death-place for their husbands and 
 sons. Well did they set up a wail, which was half a 
 triumphal self-sacrifice and half a hymnal despair, as 
 they moved out upon the bright, variegated prairie. 
 Well did they wind away as if going upon some solemn, 
 all-necessary duty. And well did the warriors and re- 
 maining women gaze after them with awe and reverence 
 as at last they became a breath of dust upon the horizon. 
 You have on the prairies all the magnificence of the 
 ocean with a thousandfold more variety and fixity. To 
 describe the high seas you must borrow figures of speech 
 from the rolling plains, and you speak of the waves being 
 high as hills, and the troughs being deep as valleys. In 
 such a voyage as that on which these Maha women 
 entered you have a real, stable tumbling of scenery, which 
 gains much picturesqueness by being fixed and loses 
 nothing by being less dangerous. And by it all are engen- 
 dered the generous sentiments, the sacrificing nobility, 
 and the pure, simple motives which are supposed to cling 
 to the sea, so that one tribesman will die for another and 
 count it all joy. Let the reader lay aside all precon- 
 ceived opinions of the Indians and forget for a moment 
 the dismal picture they make out of the window of a 
 Pullman car, and tell me if there be not something 
 worthy of our admiration and respect in this parting of 
 wife from husband, mother from son, lover from lover. 
 One party had a long, tedious tramp to take past their 
 old homes, whose desolate ruins would appeal to their 
 simple, untaught natures as no palaces can appeal to 
 nobler peoples, and when they had gained the steep rocks 
 they were to fortify a place in which to die nobly. The 
 other party was to rush out upon an expedition, the ob- 
 ject of which was to take vengeance for a century of 
 
THE TIDE RISING. 135 
 
 oppression and lying and robbery. They had come at 
 last to realize that they exist only as wolves before the 
 l aw they would now take the wolf's mode of warfare. 
 
 Noah immediately put his little army into motion. 
 Parties were eent out in every direction to destroy 
 ranches, seize cattle and make what captives they could. 
 The site of Faber's ranch was to be the headquarters, 
 and all reports were to be made there. Two days were 
 given as the limit of these minor expeditions. At the 
 end of that time, at the latest, all were to be in, that 
 further aggression or defence might be determined upon. 
 Noah judged that it would take about that time for the 
 soldiers to get ready and inarch down from the post. It 
 would be necessary, of course, to meet them with his 
 full force at their coming ; hence he laid the strictest 
 orders upon the parties to report before the end of their 
 period of comparative safety. And by the evening of 
 the first day certain of the more energetic companies 
 began to come in. They had found absolutely no 
 people, all the ranches being deserted as if in headlong 
 flight by the whites. But they drove in countless 
 bunches of valuable cattle, which were hailed with yells 
 of triumph by the warriors remaining at the headquar- 
 ters. As fast as these cattle formed a respectable drove 
 Noah sent them on after the women, to supply their re- 
 treat with meat. By the end of the two days all the par- 
 ties had brought in the same report : no people, the 
 ranches and farms left precipitately, plenty of vegetables 
 in the gardens, and plenty of cattle on the divides. Many 
 an ox was roasted that night in commemoration of their 
 success, and the Indians held the carved ribs in the 
 camp- tire to give them an added roast while they recited 
 the exploits and experiences of the day. 
 
 A week had passed since the hanging of Sandy. 
 
136 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 Noah's scouts, whom he had sent out in every direction, 
 began to come in, reporting active measures on the part 
 of the Government to put down the uprising. All the 
 soldiers at the post had been put in motion, and three 
 companies had been hastily ordered out from Omaha. 
 The whole army was encamped that evening about a 
 day's march from them, and they could only expect an- 
 other twenty-four hours' freedom from attack. All this 
 was welcome news to Noah. He was impatient to strike 
 one honest blow against aggression and robbery, and then 
 go to be with Wattena and the little babe. He ransacked 
 his brain, but he could find no recollection of any verse 
 out of the Good Book which forbade him this blow. 
 He had never heard of George Washington, and only 
 knew of General Grant from a fellow-Maha to whom the 
 agent had given that name out of respect for the great 
 warrior. But he was unconsciously acting upon the 
 principles which had made these names and the thousands 
 of other patriots famous in the land of American free- 
 dom. He had no banner of stars and stripes to prate of, 
 yet he felt that he had the right of all animals that can 
 talk, to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. 
 
 Every place that had not yet been fortified was put in 
 such capability of defence as they could command. 
 Noah wanted to give as much time as possible to the 
 women to reach the rocks and build a substantial retreat. 
 Every moment would be precious, and it was his policy to 
 keep the soldiers at bay as long as might be. He knew 
 nothing of breastworks or trenches : even if he had 
 known of them he had no shovels to prepare them ; but 
 such protection as they had in the way of natural knolls, 
 or bundles of skins, or logs of wood, they made full use 
 of. 
 
 Alone: in the afternoon of the next day the last of the 
 
THE TIDE RISING. 137 
 
 scouts came hurrying in, reporting that the advance 
 lines of the army were just at hand. Sure enough, in a 
 very few minutes small parties of them were to be seen 
 scouring the country in search of the enemy. Every 
 clump of bushes was examined, every worn hollow be- 
 tween the divides was carefully scrutinized, and every 
 favorable place for an ambuscade was penetrated. After 
 these came the main body of troops, marching in regular 
 order, with banners flying and muskets glancing. The 
 army was composed mostly of infantry, a circumstance 
 that would give the Indians a temporary advantage. 
 "What cavalry there was had only indifferent horses, 
 which were by no means able to cope with the swift, 
 tireless ponies of the Indians. 
 
 The soldiers took position about a quarter of a mile 
 from the defences of the Indians. The officers were seen 
 scanning the preparations of the enemy through their 
 field-glasses.- A band of them even rode to a little hill 
 to the westward to get a better view, though they rode 
 back fast enough when a party of Indians started, 
 whooping and yelling, toward them. No fighting was 
 done that night. The darkness came down softly, peace- 
 fully, and soon the large fires of the soldiers and the 
 twinkling smudges of the Indians were standing out 
 against each other in the gathering gloom. The skulk- 
 ing coyotes began their cry, the tireless wind came sweep- 
 ing up from afar, and the soft stars came out. It was 
 all so peaceful that it was difficult to believe that two 
 armies were encamped against each other on that gentle 
 plain, ready to begin a serious and bloody encounter at 
 the first streaks of light. And the combatants were 
 brothers, too, in spite of the legal restriction, and the 
 general impression, making Indians to class with brutes, 
 and considering them only good when out of the way. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE TIDE STAYED. 
 
 WORD had reached the post of the capture of the 
 agent's wife and daughters, and the officers, including 
 Dan, were doubly anxious to act wisely in subduing the 
 rebellion. They argued that too great haste would only 
 induce the Indians to kill the captives. A parley might 
 do some good, and this was at length agreed upon. 
 
 Accordingly early the next day, Dan with four brother- 
 officers was sent out under a flag of truce. Noah sent 
 Strong Foot with an equal number of the lesser chiefs to 
 meet them. The conference was held on the little knoll 
 to which the band of officers had ridden to reconnoitre, 
 and was in plain view of both forces. 
 
 Dan acted as spokesman for the whites, and he spoke 
 through an interpreter, that all the Indians might fully 
 comprehend what was said. 
 
 " You know," he said, " that the white officers and 
 soldiers are your friends. "We do not take pleasure in 
 fighting you. Often have we befriended you when our 
 orders would scarcely permit it." 
 
 " We know," answered Strong Foot. 
 
 u The strange place you occupy before the law is not 
 our fault. We are sorry for it. We would be glad to 
 remedy it if we could. But our orders now are plain. 
 You have killed a ranchman. You have killed the 
 
THE TIDE STAYED. 139 
 
 agent and the carpenter. You have killed some of our 
 officers. Our orders are to march against you and punish 
 you by force of arms. The demand of the American 
 people is that we sweep your tribe from the earth, or, if 
 any remnants are left, to remove them to the Indian Ter- 
 ritory." 
 
 " It is well," replied Strong Foot. 
 
 " You understand what is expected of us. But we 
 are not disposed to carry this sentence into literal execu- 
 tion. "We will show you mercy. And now I am in- 
 structed to make this demand of you : Restore the cap- 
 tives unharmed, give up those who have committed the 
 outrages, and let the rest of you go back to your farms 
 quietly. If you do this we will do you no harm. If 
 you do not we will sweep you from the earth, and not a 
 child of your tribe shall be left." 
 
 Strong Foot straightened himself up and replied as 
 follows : 
 
 " You say you have mercy for us. We do not want 
 it : we as.k only for justice. The Wagha have broken 
 treaties with us. They have robbed us of our bread, our 
 cattle, our money. They have ruined our wives and 
 daughters. They have crowded us like coyote pups to 
 the rocks. Now we will show our teeth. Now we will 
 bite." 
 
 He was interrupted by a pistol-shot. It was always a 
 question who tired it ; but the Indians claimed that it 
 was an act of treachery on the part of the whites, the 
 soldiers laying the same charge against them. At all 
 events, the Indians now whipped out their pistols and 
 shot three of the officers in their tracks. Then, with a, 
 yell of triumph, they ran back to their defences. 
 
 Dan received a bullet in his breast, but was not killed. 
 He fell forward and was unconscious when the soldiers 
 
140 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 picked him up, but recovered. His two friends died 
 before the relief came. 
 
 This act of treachery aroused the army to the highest 
 pitch of excited bravery. An attack was immediately, 
 made upon the Indians. Two cannon had been brought 
 up, and against these the fortifications of the besieged 
 speedily gave way. The Indians fought with the 
 greatest desperation to hold their position. Noah was to 
 be seen everywhere, encouraging the men and directing 
 the repair of the damages done by the large guns. But 
 it was no use. Early in the afternoon they were forced to 
 mount their ponies and conduct the warfare more on the 
 plan of their fathers. This was a great disappointment 
 to Noah. He had a pride in copying the white man's 
 methods of defence. Perhaps he dimly hoped that if 
 white men could thus repulse the attacks of white men 
 the red men ought to be equally successful, and they 
 would gain a permanent victory. At all events, a resist- 
 ance, even of a few days, would be most valuable to the 
 squaws. But it had all proven vain. They must dash 
 here and there on their fleet ponies and harass the flanks 
 of the enemy as much as possible before the long ranks 
 of infantry finally closed in upon them. 
 
 When once fairly mounted the Indians felt more at 
 home and fought with even greater bravery. The com- 
 mander of the white forces knew that they would defend 
 their squaws and children, and his aim was to reach the 
 place speedily where these were hidden. Consequently 
 he made little attempt to attack the Indians save when 
 they massed themselves behind rocks, or in clumps of 
 bushes directly in his way. He pushed on as rapidly as 
 possible upon the line of retreat which the squaws, ac- 
 cording to the reports of the scouts, had taken. He was 
 greatly surprised at the speed with which they seemed to 
 
THE TIDE STAYED. 141 
 
 be fleeing. lie did not know what a start tlie military 
 foresight of Noah had given them. He frequently con- 
 fessed, however, that he never knew a retreat to be better 
 covered than this was by the braves under the skilful 
 handling of their intrepid leader; 
 
 The record of that week of running warfare cannot be 
 written. No pen can fittingly describe it. The stub- 
 born advance of the column of infantry, the skirmishing 
 on nil sides at once, the night alarms, the massing of the 
 Indians at times on one headlong attack, the yelling of 
 the young squaws who were as brave as the men, the 
 contests between the bewildered cavalry and squads of 
 the enemy, the individual daring and the heroic conduct 
 displayed on both sides, make up a story which no human 
 tongue can tell and no pen fully portray. A line 
 of bodies was left on the sweet sod, and the train of 
 wild beasts skulking in the rear grew larger and more 
 thirsty mile by mile. It was a bitter struggle, but it 
 could have only one end. 
 
 One incident made a strong impression upon all who 
 witnessed it. The army had just broken camp one 
 morning, when Strong Foot and a half dozen companions 
 were seen riding off upon some expedition. A reward 
 had been offered for the capture of Strong Foot, because 
 of his being leader at the time of treachery under the 
 flag of truce. Consequently a party of young officers, the 
 best mounted in the army, volunteered to pursue him 
 quietly and attempt his capture. lie had ridden off to 
 the southeastward, so that the pursuing party could 
 drop unnoticed to the rear and head him off on his return. 
 
 Several hours passed. The army had advanced steadily 
 upon its course, fighting as it went, and was now taking 
 its dinner on a little hill that gave a wide view of the 
 country. Suddenly on the horizon to the southeast there 
 
142 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 was a speck which gradually grew into a horseman. 
 After him came three other horsemen, sweeping on as if 
 blown by the wind. In ten minutes they were clearly 
 to be seen, and they proved to be Strong Foot pursued by 
 three of the officers. Through the glasses it was evident 
 that the white men were gaining on him. His brave little 
 shonga was limping, and though he encouraged him as 
 best he could, it was evident that he was on his last legs. 
 He had had a terrible chase of it. All the others of the 
 party had been captured, and were being brought up by 
 the remaining officers. 
 
 Ah, but there were as sharp eyes over in the Indian 
 camp as the bright lenses of the field -glasses can give 
 you. The beautiful little daughter of Umpanuga had 
 seen the plight of her lover, and she now rode out on a 
 swift shonga as white as snow. Her hair was flying, and 
 her quaint Indian dress set off her figure to the best ad- 
 vantage. Both armies paused and looked to see the 
 result of this act of love. She would save the brave 
 Strong Foot. She would give him the swift white 
 shonga, and, if need be, she would die out there on the 
 prairie. See ! Strong Foot sees her and waves her 
 back. He is swinging his rifle round in hopes to load it. 
 All the cartridges have been used, but perhaps he can 
 find a few about his dress somewhere. No ! They are 
 all gone. And his little love is still coming on to him ! 
 He will not take her horse no, he must not take her 
 horse. Like every Indian woman, she could hide like a 
 quail in the grass, but he will not put her to it. Ha ! 
 There is a shot ! The bullet whistles right by his ear 
 one of the officers has sent it. And, O Wakanda ! the 
 little love tumbles ! Right forward over the shonga's 
 neck she falls. The bullet has missed him, but has buried 
 itself in her heart. She was only a hundred yards from 
 
THE TIDE STAYED. 143 
 
 lii in, and he saw her bright smile as she hurried on to 
 save him. The white shonga goes away swiftly over the 
 bright grass, but he does not call her back. He springs 
 from his own tottering pony and falls down at his sweet- 
 heart's side. She is panting now, but can smile for 
 him. lie presses a kiss on her dying lips, and then the 
 officers come storming up. He rises and closes his lips 
 in an Indian's proud silence, and goes away into captivity. 
 
 Not much remains to tell. It was the old story of a 
 tribal slaughter by troops who, at heart, were really 
 friendly to the Indians. The retreat prepared by the 
 squaws was reached. The Indians found it well selected 
 and provisioned. Ah, but there were sad hearts there, 
 for more than half of the warriors had been slain. 
 Scores of Indian women went out during those dark 
 nights to beat their temples and sing the sad Dta-wa-e 
 of their husbands and sons. It required all of Noah's 
 authority to save the captives, but at last this was done, 
 much to his relief. His Christian principles stood a test 
 before which his humane sentiments had failed. 
 
 The army laid siege to the place. This was prosecuted 
 until the coming on of the winter induced the com- 
 mander to offer terms of surrender. Those of the tribe 
 who should be designated by a United States commis- 
 sion as innocent should be allowed to go back upon a 
 portion of the old reserve. Noah and the others should 
 be sent to the Indian Territory, where all northern 
 Indians, as the records show, suffer a lingering misery 
 and a sure death. These terms were finally accepted. 
 The captives were delivered up, much to the delight of 
 Dan. Noah was placed in chains, and with Strong Foot 
 sent off to a carefully guarded imprisonment in the Land 
 of Fire, as the northern Indians call the Indian Terri- 
 tory. 
 
144- A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 A commission sat on the case, chose out the most un- 
 intelligent-looking Mahas, and gave them about one-third 
 of their old homes. The remaining two-thirds were ap- 
 propriated by the Indian rings within rings which make 
 up a large portion of our political machinery. A cold 
 winter came on. The new agent was a kind man, but 
 he could not feed the Mahas, who, through their own 
 and others' fault, were entirely destitute, and many died. 
 But the sun came out again, and the happy ones in east- 
 ern homes wondered how any one could sorrow in such 
 bright weather. The ranchmen came back to their 
 broadened fields, and the sentiment, " There is no good 
 Indian but the dead Indian," became again, or rather 
 continued, the law of the land. 
 
CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 AD CALENDA8 GILECAS. 
 
 " GENTLE reader," say our old romancers. I say the 
 same. In recording the history of the Malia uprising I 
 am brought, by the inevitable logic of events, to a conclu- 
 sion. And I say " gentle reader," not because I have 
 any authority for supposing that you have i gentle ' ' 
 blood in your veins, but because not one of you, prob- 
 ably, has passed through a tragic scene in your lives. 
 You have lived in more or less luxury, you have had 
 more or less happiness, you consider yourself more or 
 less fortunate. Consequently you may be disposed to 
 look upon the foregoing narrative as a highly wrought 
 description meant for entertainment merely. In this 
 you are mistaken. I am making an appeal to the Ameri- 
 can people, and 1 ask you to hear me out. 
 
 Our nation has many genuine statesmen. I am not of 
 the number of those who think that the spirit of Hamil- 
 ton, Seward, and Lincoln has deserted our shores. Now 
 the question is : Can any one of our learned statesmen 
 tell us why the enactment of 1789, which provides that 
 no Indian can sue or be sued, or be a party to any suit in 
 a United States court, should remain in force in a Chris- 
 tian land ? Is there any reason why the Indian, rather than 
 the Irishman or the negro, should have this restriction 
 placed upon his share of the rights of every human being 
 under our Constitution ? He has hands and feet, a mind 
 and a heart, and some philanthropists have contended 
 
146 A TIMID BKAVB. 
 
 that he has a soul. Is he not then a person ? And does 
 not our Constitution recognize the right of every person 
 to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness ? If hap- 
 piness consists in living in a tepee and hunting jack -rab- 
 bits, whose business is it ? The German gets happiness 
 by drinking beer, the Englishman by eating beef, the 
 American by running himself thin after money. Can 
 one say that either of the others stands in the way of 
 civilization and should be got off the earth as fast as 
 musket-balls and bad whiskey can do it ? 
 
 Suppose for a moment that Noah could have gone into 
 the nearest court and entered suit against the Faber 
 brothers for the recovery of his stock. There would 
 then have been no occasion for the attempt to steal them 
 back. Suppose the ranchmen had known that the Mahas 
 stood on an equality with themselves before the law. 
 They would never have imagined that a hue-and-cry 
 against the Indians would secure the reservation for the 
 whites. If a white man trespassed on an Indian's farm 
 the latter could have gone into the nearest court and sued 
 out a writ of ejectment and put him off. That would 
 have settled the whole difficulty. The fault was not 
 with the agent, nor yet was it wholly with the Indians. 
 The fault lay in the anomalous position forced upon the 
 Indians by their lack of personality before the law. Put 
 the Danes in this position, and you would soon have a 
 Danish Question, just as now you have the Indian 
 Question. When you say to men, " Your only defence 
 is the rifle," you must not be surprised if they use it. 
 The result is, innocent agents lose their lives, homes that 
 might be happy are broken up, and the border is kept in 
 constant turmoil. Let the statesmen of our land sit down 
 quietly and ask themselves this question : Without law, 
 when will the Indian Question be settled ? And will not 
 
AD CALENDAS GIl^ECAS. 147 
 
 the answer be found in the old Roman sneer: " A d 
 Calendas Grascas " f 
 
 Our nation has theologians who are interested in the 
 spread of Christianity over our own land and into all 
 lands. Let these endeavor to put themselves for a mo- 
 ment into the place of the Indian. You are told of a 
 God who made all mankind, and of a Christ who came 
 to redeem the whole race. You are told of justice and 
 equity and brotherly love. You are informed that this 
 religion which you are urged to accept insures the prac- 
 tice of these high virtues and their spread over all 
 the earth. You are gravely told that the white men, to 
 whom you owe everything, are Christians. Yet you lose 
 your stock. You cannot make a contract. You have 
 no existence before the law. Any one can rob or kill 
 you, and if the agent does not or cannot take up your 
 cause, you must be quiet, or go to war. You begin 
 to wonder where the justice and equity and brotherly 
 love come in. Query : How long would it take to 
 Christianize you under these circumstances ? 
 
 Our nation has the largest number of honest, conscien- 
 tious business men of any country on the globe. This is 
 true in spite of the frauds and defalcations with which 
 our papers teem. Here is a little problem of figures to 
 which their attention is most respectfully invited. How 
 long would it take you to accumulate a fortune if your 
 property were open to every hand ? Given your present 
 capital and your carefully acquired business knowledge 
 and habits, in how many years would you be able to save 
 enough to educate your children and support your fami- 
 lies, if you had no insurance and no law ? If this lack 
 would be a serious drawback to your business, can you 
 tell any reason why the Indians should be subjected to 
 it by a nation in which you form so important a part ? 
 
148 A TIMID BRAVE. 
 
 Our nation has at its foundation a great company of 
 hard-working, industrious citizens. I appeal confidently 
 to you. I believe in your integrity, in spite of dema- 
 gogism and socialism. And I ask you this : Would 
 work be pleasant to you if you had no assurance that you 
 were to enjoy the fruits of your toil ? Suppose your 
 next neighbor could help himself to your barrel of flour, 
 and you would be utterly powerless to prevent or punish 
 him : would thrift and industry mean the same to you 
 as they do now ? Suppose you were compelled by law 
 to work for a man who paid you only one half of ordi- 
 nary wages, and might, if he chose, refuse to pay you 
 anything. Suppose you were compelled by law to trade 
 with a man who charged you twice more for his things 
 than other merchants on that street. Suppose you had 
 a little sum laid up for a rainy day. To be sure, your 
 father left it to you, but that does not matter ; it is 
 yours. Perhaps it is doubly dear because left by him 
 whom you loved so much. But the town council spends 
 this sum for you, without asking your consent or advice. 
 Your wife goes in rags and your children are not 
 educated ; .but the wives and children of the members 
 of the town council ride by in silks arid satins. How 
 long would it be before you would go on a strike ? 
 
 The Indian Question will be solved when the cheap 
 but priceless blessings of just and equitable law are ex- 
 tended to the red men as well as to the white, the yel- 
 low, and the black. If that be not done, when will it be 
 settled, except in the shameless extermination of a race ? 
 Ad Calendas Grcecas never I 
 
A NEW NO VEL B Y JOAQUIN MILLER. 
 
 "THE DESTRUCTION OF GOTHAM." Price $1.00 e 
 
 This is a m >st graphic story of the times, showing the con- 
 flict between the upper and lower stratas of society in New 
 York, ending in a great disaster to the city itself. It is an in- 
 tensely interesting and powerful story. Joaquin Miller is a 
 writer whose fame is world-wide. 
 
 WHAT THE CBITi:S SAY OF JOAQUIN MILLER. 
 The London rime* says: " His writings are charged with pas- 
 sionate life, and display a fervor of poetic appreciation and 
 sympathy, combined with startling beauty and power." 
 
 The London Globe says: ' To follow him is like following a 
 keen, swift rider, who rides eagerly, it matters not whither, 
 and who attracts us by a wild grace and a beautiful skill as he 
 rushes through scenes of luxuriant loveliness that would cause 
 a less impetuous horseman to pause and linger." 
 
 The London Bookseller says: "Mr. Miller is a man of L 
 thetic instincts and deep reverence for all that is high and 
 noble in nature and humanity." 
 
 The London Academy says: " Mr. Miller has the faculty of 
 making himself felt through what he writes." 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS, Publishers, N. Y. 
 
NEiV NOVEL BY ROBERT W. HUME. 
 
 Price $1.00. 
 
 In 
 
 "THE HISTORY OF A RECLUSE.' 
 Press. 
 
 Mr. Hume in this story treats of some of the practical dlm- 
 culties in solving the labor and other social problems. It is 
 an interesting and most suggestive story. 
 
 TWO NEW NOVELS BY IVAN TUR- 
 GENIEFF. 
 
 "AN UNFORTUNATE WOMAN" and "ASS'YA." Both 
 bound in one volume. Translated direct from the Russian 
 for this publication by .Henry Gersoni. Price 75 cts. In 
 Press. 
 
 WHAT THE CRITICS THINK OF TURGENIEFF. 
 Renan says: " No man has been as much as he the incarna- 
 tion of a whole race." 
 
 The Literary World, London, says: "He is an artist of the 
 first order. His style is bright, picturesque, intensely human, 
 and irresistibly fascinating." 
 
 The N'w York Tribune says: " TurgeniefFs characters are 
 vital; they suffer with a pathos that irresistibly touches the 
 reader to sympathy. Those who would write in the same vein 
 get merely his admirable manner, full of reserve, of self-re- 
 straint, of joyless patience; but while under this surfa- e with 
 Turgenieff lie trobbing arteries and quivering flesh, his imi- 
 tators offer nothing more than lay figures in whose fortunes 
 it is impossible to take any lively interest." 
 
 FUNK& WAGNALLS, Publishers, 
 
 N.Y. 
 
THIRTY THOUSAND THOUGHTS; 
 
 Being Extracts Covering a Comprehensive Circle of Religious 
 and Allied Topics, gathered from the best available source 
 of all ages and all schools of thought; with suggestive and 
 seminal headings and homiletical and illuminative frame- 
 work; the whole arranged upon a scientific basis. With 
 classified and thought-multiplying lists, comparative 
 tables and elaborate indices, Alphabetical, Topical. Texual 
 and Scriptural. Edited by Rev. Canon D. M. Spence, M.A., 
 Rev. Jos. S. Exell, M.A. and Rev. Chas. Neil, M.A. With 
 Introduction by Very Rev. Dean Howson, D.D. Complete 
 in seven volumes. Four now ready (1886). Royal 8vo, per 
 volume, cloth, $3.50. 
 
 The Lutheran Review, Philadelphia: "This great work is virtu, 
 ally a library upon each subject presented. The extracts are 
 short and pointed, and every page affords rich and interesting 
 reading, while the arrangement is so complete that no difli- 
 culty is exp rienced in at once turning to any point one may 
 desire to find. It is a masterpiece of order and a mine of 
 thought." 
 
 The Sunday School Times, Philadelphia : " The most elaborate 
 cyclopedia of illustrations ever attempted. The plan is thor- 
 oughly scientific, and the sub-division of the topic is so minute 
 that it would verge on the burdensome, were it not for the 
 fullness and clearness of the table of contents." 
 
 The Congregationalist, Boston: "This work is remarkably 
 broad in its scope and rich in its material. There are DO any ex- 
 tracts of the highest merit. Many persona, especially pastors, 
 will prize it highly. It is of solid value to the student of Chris- 
 tian tendencies." 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS, New York. 
 
ASTRONOMY WITHOUT A TEACHER. 
 
 THE STARS AND CONSTELLATIONS. A new method by 
 which all the more conspicuous stars, constellations and 
 . other objects of interest in the heavens that are visible to 
 the naked eye can be easily and certainly identified with- 
 out Instruments, Globes or Maps. By Royal Hill. Super- 
 royal fine paper, 4to, with 2 charts and 14 cuts. Price $1.00. 
 
 Pro/. C. A. Young, Princeton, N. J. : An excellent introduc- 
 tion to the study of the stars, containing in smaU compass all 
 that is needed to identify easily all the leading stars and con- 
 stellations." 
 
 Prr>f. S. Newcomb, Nautical Almanac Office, Washington, D. C.: 
 "Please accept my thanks for the instructive book, entitled : 
 The Stars and Constellations.' " 
 
 Prof. S. P. Langley, Director of the Allegheny Observatory, Alle- 
 gheny, Pa. : "I have examined ' The Stars and Constellations,' 
 and think its scheme a very good one. I know of no chart 
 better calculated to teach the young observer the names and 
 places of the principal stars. I heartily recommend it." 
 
 A IJred G. Compton, Prf. Applied Mathematics College of City of 
 New York: " I have examined with pleasure 'The Stars and 
 Constellations,' and Hike it very much. It should certainly 
 be very useful in making a student acquainted with the prin- 
 cipal objects in the heavens, which then become centres 
 around which he can easily learn to group the details." 
 
 J. K. Rees, Director Columbia College Observatory: "The 
 ' Stars and Constellations ' plea=es me very much because it is 
 a successful attempt to interest the young in finding the prin- 
 cipal stars and constellations. I think it can be very Useful 
 for beginners in the study of the heavens." 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS. New York, 
 
CHURCH FAIRS ; ARE THEY RIGHT? 
 
 GIVING OR ENTERTAINMENT, WHICH? A clear, con- 
 cise discussion on Church Entertainments in contrast to 
 Giving. By Joseph S. Van Dyke, D.D. 12mo, 32 pp., paper, 
 25 cts. 
 
 Tht Christian Intelligencer, New York: "This book takes a 
 strong position against modern methods of raising money in 
 churches. It is a clear, plain, pungent protest against fairs 
 and other entertainments for this purpose. The author's argu- 
 ment* are sound and unanswerable." 
 
 DANCING; IS IT HURTFUL? 
 
 THE DANCE OF MODERN SOCIETY. By William Cleaver 
 Wilkinson. 12mo, 78 pp., cloth, 60 cts. 
 Partial Contents. 
 
 Its Bearing Upon the 
 
 Health. 
 Its Social Tendency. 
 
 Its Influence upon Intellectual 
 
 Improvement. 
 Its Moral and .Religious Aspects. 
 
 Harper's Magazine : " The most pungent attack on the mod- 
 era dance we have ever read." 
 
 Theodore L. Cuyler, D.D. : "A most pungent and powerful 
 little book." 
 
 TWO BOOKS ON LABOR AND CAPITAL. 
 
 WORKING PEOPLE AND THEIR EMPLOYERS. By 
 
 Washington Gladden. 12mo, paper, 25 cts.; cloth, $1.00. 
 The Examiner, New York: "This book wo cordially com- 
 mend. It is sound and economic in principal and Christi- 'a 
 spirit.* 
 
 PROPERTY IN LAND. A Passage at Arms between the l>uk, 
 
 of Argyll and Henry George. 12mo, 77 pp., paper, 15 cts. 
 
 The American-Scottish Journal, New York : "Both sides of the 
 
 question are argued with great skill, and in the processes of 
 
 reasoning employed throughout the reader will discover much 
 
 to assist him in arriving at a conclusion on this question." 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS, New York. 
 
A NEW BOOK ON FANCY WORK 
 
 SKILFUL SUSY. A Hand-book of Fancy Work for Fairs, 
 Bazaars, and the Home. By EJJnor Gay. 12mo, illustrated, 
 paper covers, 50 cts. 
 
 Articles are suggested and careful directions given for 
 making them. As far as practicable, the prices of the materials 
 used are given. The chapter on framing pictures will prove 
 both novel and suggestive. Particular attention is called to 
 Skilful Susy's collection of mottoes for decorative work. 
 
 The Table of Contents. 
 
 Preface. Paints, and How to Use Them. 
 
 Materials. The Dining Boom, 
 
 l.mbroidery Materials. Screens. 
 
 " Stitches. "Woodwork. 
 
 Drawn Work. Fancy Chains. 
 
 Kibbon. Framing Pictures. 
 
 Designs. ' Bags and Pillows. 
 
 ( olor. Something for Everybody. 
 
 Suggestions. Mottoes tor Tea and Tray Cloths. 
 
 Household Draperies. 
 
 PRACTICAL PHYSIOLOGY FOR GIRLS. 
 
 WHAT OUR GIRLS OUGHT TO KNOW. By Mary J. Stud- 
 ley, M.D., State Normal School, Framingham, Mass. 
 12mo, cloth, $1.00. 
 
 Contents. 
 
 A Sunny House. The Mate and the Home. 
 
 Best Hours for Sleep. Nerves and Nervousness. 
 
 Brain and Nerves. The Use of Sewing Machines. 
 
 Carlyle on Clothes. Self-Development. 
 
 Causes of Disease. Time to Marry. 
 
 Cleanliness. How to Cook. 
 
 Clothing the Feet. What to Eat. 
 
 Close-fining Undergar- What Causes Cold Feet. 
 
 ments. What Causes Varicose Veins. 
 
 Hygiene of the Skin. What Causes Palpitation. 
 
 The World, New York: "These essays are written in a clear 
 and chaste style, and the book is one which every sensible 
 mother will wish to place in her daughter's hands." 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS New York. 
 
HISTORICAL LIGHTS. 
 Compiled by Rev, CHARLES E. LITTLE. 
 
 Author of " Biblical Lights and Side Lights." 
 
 These "Lights" are a galaxy of 6,000 QUOTATIONS taken exclu- 
 sively from standard histories and biographies . All are arrang- 
 ed in alphabetical order under suitable topics. Each is complete 
 in itself, and refers the reader to the author and chapter quoted. 
 They consist of facts, incidents, examples and precedents selected 
 for illustrative purposes, and chiefly from the histories of the civil- 
 ised races of antiquity, and the American and English feoplt. 
 The topics (some thirty thousand] relate to religious, social, and 
 political life to moral and civil government. 
 Among the authors quoted, are the following : 
 ARNOLD. BAKER. DOWDBN. 
 
 ABBOTT. BLAINB. FARRAR. 
 
 Bos WELL. CARLISLE. FROUDK. 
 
 BUNSEN. CREASEY. FORBES. 
 
 BANCROFT. CUSTIS. GIBBON. 
 
 GREEN. 
 
 HOOD. LAMARTINE. MORRISON. 
 
 HEAD LEY. LESTER. MYERS. 
 
 HUTTON. MACAULEY. MORLEY. 
 
 IRVING. MICHELET. NORTON. 
 
 KNIGHT. MULLER. PARTON. 
 
 PATTISON. ROLLIN. STEVENS. 
 
 PLUTARCH. SHAIRP. SYMOND. 
 
 RIDPATH. SCHILLER. TYTLER. 
 
 REIN. STODDARD. TYNDALL. 
 
 RAYMOND. SMITH. TROLLOPE. 
 
 The book has a general cross-reference index, also an index 
 of personal names. 8vo, cloth, 900 pp., $5.00. 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS, Publishers. ' "* " N. Y. 
 
MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN AND 
 WOMEN. 
 
 AND THE WIVES OF SOME GREAT MEN. 
 
 These Pen Portraits include: The Mothers of, The Gracchi, Wesley, 
 Luther, Lincoln, Napoleon, Cromwell, Madam Necker, Richter, 
 Byron, Humboldt, Mendelssohn, Webster, and Garfield; and 
 such Wives as Ladies Russell, Beaconsfield, and others. By 
 LAURA C. HOLLOWAY. 
 
 One large volume, 8vo. Illustrated throughout, with Frontispiece 
 of Raphael's "Sistine Madonna," engraved on steel. Price, 
 cloth, $3.00; same, gilt edges, $5.00; silk, cloth, giltedges, $6.00 
 half morocco, gilt, $5.00; full morocco, gilt, $7.00. 
 
 Governor WM. B. BA TE of Tennessee, says : " The book 
 . is eminently a fireside companion, interesting alike to the old 
 and the young ; and withal, an ornament to any library." 
 
 THE HOME IN POETRY. 
 
 A collection of English and American verse on The Home. By 
 LAURA C. HOLLOWAY. Paper, 25 cents ; fine cloth, $1.00. 
 THE CLEVELAND MESSENGER. " The selections have 
 been made with discrimination and care." 
 
 AN HOUR WITH CHARLOTTE BRONTE; 
 
 Or, Flowers from a Yorkshire Moor. By LAURA C. HOLLOWAY. 
 Paper, 15 cents; fine cloth, with fine steel engraving of Charlotte 
 Bronte, 75 cents. 
 
 THE NEW YORK HERALD. "There are, at times, flights 
 oi eloquence that rise to grandeur." 
 
 HOWARD, THE CHRISTIAN HERO. 
 
 A history of Gen. O. O. Howard's religious and philanthropic, 
 rather than his military career. By LAURA C. HOLLOWAY. 121110, 
 paper, 25 cents; cloth, $1.00. 
 
 CHINESE GORDON, THE UNCROWNED 
 KING. 
 
 A compilation rom Gordon's private letters of his sentiments re- 
 garding life, duty, religion, responsibility. By LAURA C. HOLLO- 
 WAY. i2mo, ribbon tied, 25 cents. 
 
 THE ST. PAUL PIONEER PRESS. "His sentences ring 
 like bugle calls." 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS, Publisher!, N. Y. 
 
ARCHIBALD MALMAISON. 
 
 A New Novel. By JULIAN HAWTHORNE, xamo, paper, 15 cts.; 
 cloth, extra paper, 75 cts. 
 
 INDEPENDENT, N. Y. " Mr. Julian Hawthorne can choose no 
 better compliment upon his new romance, ' ARCHIBALD MALMAI- 
 SON,' than the assurance that he has at last put forth astory which 
 reads as if the manuscript, written in his father's indecipherable 
 handwriting and signed 'Nathaniel Hawthorne,' had lain shut into 
 a desk for twenty-five years, to be only just now pulled out and 
 printed. It is a masterful romance ; short, compressed, terribly 
 dramatic in its important situations, based upon a psychologic 
 idea as weird and susceptible of startling treatment as possible. 
 It is a book to be read through in two hours, but to dwell in the 
 memory forever. The employment of the central theme and the 
 literary conduct of the plot is nearly beyond criticism." 
 
 X. //. STODDARD, IN NEW YORK MAIL AND EXPRESS, 
 " The climax is so terrible, as the London Times has pointed out, 
 and so dramatic in its intensity, that it is impossible to class it 
 with any situation of modern fiction. . . Mr. Hawthorne is 
 clearly and easily the first of living romancers." 
 
 THE LONDON TIMES. " After perusal of this weird, fantastic 
 tale (Archibald Malmaison), it must be admitted that upon the 
 
 1 shoulders of Julian Hawthorne has descended in no small degree 
 the mantle of his more illustrious father. The climax is so terrible, 
 and so dramatic in its intensity, that it is impossible to class it 
 with any situation of modern fiction. There is much psychologi- 
 cal ingenuity shown in some of the more subtle touches that lend 
 n air of reality to this wild romance." 
 
 THE LONDON GLOBE. " ' Archibald Malmaison ' is one of the 
 most daring attempts to set the wildest fancy masquerading in the 
 cloak of science, which has ever, perhaps been made. Mr. Haw- 
 thorne has managed to combine the almost perfect construction of 
 a typical French novelist, with a more than typically German 
 power of conception." 
 
 THE ACADEMY. ' Mr. Hawthorne has a more powerful imagin- 
 ation than any contemporary writer of fiction. He has the very 
 uncommon gift of taking hold of the reader's attention at once, 
 and the still more uncommon gift of maintaining his grasp when it 
 is fixed." 
 
 *UNK & WAQNALLS, Publisher*, St., N. Y. 
 
THE FORTUNES OF RACHEL. 
 
 A New Novel. By EDWARD EVERETT HALE. 12 mo, paper, 250.; 
 cloth, $i. 
 
 CHRISTIAN UNION, N. Y, ' Probably no American has a more 
 devoted constituency of readers than Mr. Edward Everett Hale, 
 and to all these his latest story, 'The Fortunes of Rachel,' will 
 bring genuine pleasure. Mr. Hale is emphatically a natural 
 writer; he loves to interpret common things and to deal with aver- 
 age persons. He does this with such insight, with such noble 
 conception of life and of his work, that he discovers that profound 
 interest which belongs to the humblest as truly as to the most 
 brilliant forms of life. . . . This story is a thoroughly Ameri- 
 can novel, full of incident, rich in strong traits of character, and 
 full of stimulating thought; it is wholesome and elevating." 
 
 BOSTON JOURNAL. " The virtue of the book is the healthful, 
 encouraging, kindly spirit which prevades it, and which will help 
 one to battle with ad verse circumstances, as indeed, all Mr. Hale's 
 stones have helped." 
 
 NEW YORK JOURNAL OF COMMERCE. "A purely 
 American story, original all through, and Rachel is one of the 
 pleasantest and most satisfactory of heroines. She is a girl of the 
 soil, unspoiled by foreign travels and conventionalites. After 
 surteiting on romances whose scenes are laid abroad, it is delight- 
 ful to come across a healthy home product like this." 
 
 RUTHERFORD. 
 
 A New Novel. By EDGAR FAWCETT. Author rf" An Ambitious 
 
 Wfman," "A Gentleman of Leisure," A Hopeless Case," 
 
 " Tinkling Cymbals" etc. izmo, paper, 25 cts; 
 
 c:oth, extra paper, $1.00. 
 
 BOSTON GLOBE. " Truly Mr. Fawcett has here wrought with 
 skill in producing some original and beautiful characters. The 
 motive and plan are those of a better book than he has ever writ- 
 ten. . . Rutherford is powerful and will contribute much to 
 the reputation of its clever author." 
 
 SAT. EVENING GAZETTE, Boston. " This story evinces grace 
 as well as facility of style, is effectively told throughout, and in 
 its plot and characters is decidedly interesting. The sympathies 
 of the reader are keenly enlisted for two of the characters who have 
 been reduced from wealth to poverty, and the relation of their ex- 
 periences in the latter form of life affords opportunity for a very 
 effective exhibition of this p ia?e of New York experience. The 
 book is one of the must elaborate of Mr. Fawcett's novels." 
 
 NEW YORK TRIBUNE. " Mr. Fawcett's story. ' Rutherford,' 
 is more serious in plan than most of his society novels; it has a 
 motive which is not only tragical, but impressive. . . . It is 
 well constructed, and contains some excellent sketches of fashion- 
 able life and touches of satire." 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS, Publishers, N. Y. 
 
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