Wigwam and War-path Or the Royal Chief in Chains Part 41

"No, no; John, I won't take it, although I would rather have it than all your cattle; but if I take that revolver, everybody will swear that I precipitated the fight by going armed in violation of the compact. No, John, I wouldn't take it if I knew I never could come back without it, and taking it would save me. I won't do it. My life would not be worth a cent if I did. I wanted you to go, but the general and the doctor objected; so there's no use in talking; I am going."

A man pa.s.ses close to Meacham and drops something in a side pocket of his coat. His hand grasps it, and his face indicates hesitation. The other says, in a low tone, "It's sure fire;--it's all right." 'Tis a small Derringer pistol, and it is not thrown out of the pocket. Dyer caught sight of this little manuvre, and he goes into his tent and quickly slips a Derringer into his pocket.

The Indian woman is weeping still. She refuses to let go the rope of Meacham's horse, until the command is repeated, and then she grasps his coat, and pleads again: "You no go; you get kill."

"Let go, Tobey. Get on your horse. All ready? Mr. Dyer, there is no other way to do."

Riddle is pale, but cool and collected. He says, "I'm a-goin' a-foot; I don't want no horse to bother me." The Indian woman embraces her boy again and again, and mounts her horse. Meacham, Dyer, Riddle, and his wife are starting.

Fairchild says, "Meacham, you had better take my pistol. I would like to go with you, but I s'pose I can't."

"No; I won't take it. Good-by. Keep your promise."

"Good-by, Maj. Thomas. Cranston, good-by. Good-by, Col. Wright. Be ready to come for us; we'll need you."

"Don't go off feeling that way. I wouldn't go if I felt as you do," says one.

"We will have an eye out for you," says another.

They are gone, and we will follow. Canby and Thomas are just rising out of a rocky chasm near the council tent. Meacham and his party are going around by the horse trail. Words can never tell the thoughts that pa.s.s through their minds on that ride. The soldier who goes to battle takes even chances in the line of his profession; the criminal may march with steady nerve up the steps that lead him to the gallows; but who can ever tell in words the thoughts, feelings, and temptations of these men, going to meet a people under a flag of truce that had been dishonored by their own race within sight of the spot where they are to meet these people, after the earnest warning they had received?

CHAPTER x.x.x.

a.s.sa.s.sINATION--"KAU-TUX-E"--THE DEATH PRAYER SMOTHERED BY BLOOD--RESCUED.

While these two parties are wending their way to the council tent, let us see what is going on around it. On the side opposite from the camp a small sage-brush fire is burning. It is not at the same spot where the fire was built when Meacham and Roseborough had the long talk with Captain Jack a few days since. Why this change? Think a moment. The council that day was in _full view of the signal station_. This fire is _behind the council tent, and cannot be seen from the station_. Around the fire loose stones are placed. This looks suspicious. But who are those fellows dressed like white men, sitting around that fire? Ah! they are Modocs waiting for the commissioners. That man with a slouched hat and well-worn gray coat,--nearest the tent, is Captain Jack. He looks sad and half melancholy, and does not seem at ease in his mind.

Near him sits old Schonchin, the image of the real savage. His hair is mixed with gray. His face indicates that he is a villain.

That fellow who appears restless, and walks back and forth, is Hooker Jim.

He is not more than twenty-two; _his_ face tells you, at a glance, that he is a _cut-throat_. He is tall, stout-built, very muscular, and would be an ugly customer in a fight. He is accredited with being the best "_trailer_," and the closest marksman in the Modoc tribe.

That other young fellow, with feminine face, and hair parted in the middle, is a brave and desperate man. That is Shacknasty Jim.

That dark-looking man, who reminds you, at the first view, of a snake, is Black Jim. He is of royal blood, and half-brother of Captain Jack. His hair is cut square below the ears, and, take him altogether, he is a bad-looking man.

The light-colored, round-faced, smooth-built man, who stands behind the chief; is "Ellen's Man." He is young, and is really a fine-looking fellow.

He does not _appear_ to be a bad man, but he _is_; and you will think him the worst of the company before we lose sight of him.

The talk around that council fire would freeze your blood could you hear it. They are making arrangements for the carnival of death that they propose holding.

The chief is nervous, and speaks of his regret that this thing is to be.

"Ellen's Man" proposes to take his place if he lacks courage. "I do not lack courage, but I do not feel right to kill those men. If it is the Modoc heart, it shall be done," replies the chief.

Walk out towards the Modoc camp forty steps, and lying behind a low ledge of rocks are two boys, Barncho and Slolux. They are very quiet, but under each one we see several rifles. They are both young, and have _volunteered_ to play this part in the tragedy soon to be enacted.

Near them is another man, crouching low, and in his hand he holds a gun, with its muzzle pointing towards the tent. His face indicates a much older man than he really is. He is not there to take a part in the proceedings of the coming meeting, except in a certain contingency. There is a something about him that declares him to be a man of more than ordinary stamp. This is Scar-face Charley, and if, in the slaughter that is to ensue, Riddle or his wife should fall, the rifle that that man grasps will talk in vengeful tone, with deadly effect, upon the murderer.

Look behind you at the council fire. Eight Indians are there now, and the new-comers have familiar faces. They are _Bogus_ and _Boston_, just arrived from head-quarters. They are telling the others who are coming, that they are all unarmed.

Boston intimates something like regret or faltering in the purpose. Bogus declares that he will "Do it alone, if all the others back out. Kill these men, and the war will stop. It will scare all the soldiers away."

Hist! here comes Gen. Canby, with the bra.s.s b.u.t.tons on his coat glittering in the sunlight; and Dr. Thomas, also, who is so well worthy to walk by the side of the general. The Indians arise and greet them cordially. Gen.

Canby takes from his pocket a handful of cigars, offering one to each.

They accept them from his hand, while in their hearts they have determined on his death. The general and all the Indians are smoking now. The thoughts of the general will never be known; not even whether he had any suspicion of their intentions.

[Ill.u.s.tration: GEN. CANBY.]

Meacham and his party are approaching. They ride up very near the council fire,--Meacham to the right, Dyer and Mrs. Riddle to the left. Riddle pa.s.ses to the left of the tent, looking in as he comes to the council.

Meacham is taking off his overcoat before dismounting. Why is this? The weather is not warm. There is a reason for this strange action.

Before reaching the tent the matter had been discussed by the four persons of that party. Riddle declared that if attacked he would save himself by running, Mr. Dyer saying there was no hope of escape in any other way.

Meacham considered running impracticable and hopeless, and suggested that, "if we stand together, we can, with the aid of the Derringer, get a revolver for Riddle, and then we can all be armed in quick time." Dyer and Riddle adhered to the plan of escape they had proposed, Meacham still saying that it was hopeless, and adding, "I cannot run; but I will sell my life as dearly as possible." The Derringer is in his _under coat_.

As they ride up, they see clearly that the council fire is _behind_ the tent, _out of sight of the signal station_, and that the Modocs are all armed with revolvers secreted under their clothing.

The Indians welcome the party with a cordiality that is very suspicious.

They are good-humored, too; another confirmation of the worst fears. Even before the party dismount, they are saluted by the Modocs with hand-shaking and other demonstrations.

Dyer is the first to alight from his horse. He looks a little pale. Tobey quietly dismounts, securing her horse to a small sage brush near the council. Meacham still sits upon his horse, apparently listless, as if in doubt. He is fighting a battle with his pride. His family are in his thoughts, and also another family of little orphans of a much-loved brother. He glances at the face of Gen. Canby and Dr. Thomas. His mind is made up. He dismounts, dropping the halter of the horse upon the ground.

He intends that "Joe Lane" (the horse) shall have a chance for escape. But "Joe Lane" is well known among the Modocs. They have seen him before, and they fix their eyes on him now, impatient to feel him flying over the plains. Perhaps they are making a calculation of his value as an offset to several of the ponies captured from them by Maj. Biddle a few days previous.

See the manuvring going on by both parties. The Modocs are seeking to separate themselves from the white men, while Dyer, Meacham and Riddle are seeking to prevent the formation of a tableau of white men. Canby stands erect and firm, not seeming to notice the game that is playing before his eyes. His pride will not permit him to notice or to shun what is evidently the intention of the Modocs. Dr. Thomas does not see what is going on, or, if he does, so strong is his faith in G.o.d that he does not fear. Dyer and Riddle are outside on either hand, not wis.h.i.+ng to join the group.

Meacham, now satisfied that the party are entrapped, is walking carelessly a few steps towards the camp. Perhaps he is going to make a signal to those at the lookout. If that was his intention, he abandons it; for just beside him are a pair of small, bullet eyes that watch his every movement.

The party _feel_ that not the motion of even an eye is lost by the Modocs.

They see everything, and, while all are apparently on the best of terms, all are on the lookout for any sign or intimation of danger. Not a motion is made un.o.bserved. Still, no unkindly words are spoken; indeed, all parties _appear_ to be in cheerful humor.

Appearances are deceitful sometimes, and especially in this instance. One party is intending to commit an unparalleled crime; the other, suspicious of their intention, awaits the issue, not quite without hope, but almost in despair.

The white men do not seem anxious to begin the council. The Modocs are trying to appear careless.

What does that mean? Bogus is going out towards a low cliff, carrying his rifle with him. Watch him a moment. While standing on a prominent rock, he is scanning the ledge that runs towards the soldiers' camp. _Ah, yes! he is looking for sage brush with which to feed the fire._ Now he has laid down his gun and breaks off the brush and returns to the council. That, then, was the _pretended_ object of his trip. Curious that in _all former councils_ the Modoc women have performed this work, but that _none_ of them are here _now_!

Hooker Jim is on the alert, and if you will watch his eye you will see that it glances often in the direction of the soldiers' camp. Something excites his suspicion, and the other Indians, except Captain Jack, follow his gaze; and the white men, too, discover some one's head above the rocks. All arise to their feet. Is the terrible affair to begin now? Wait a moment and keep your eyes divided, watching the _intruder_ and the Modocs. The former is looking around him, as if hunting for some lost article. The latter are nervous, and a hateful fire is burning in their eyes. The moment is one of intense peril. The least motion of distrust now on the part of the white men will precipitate the b.l.o.o.d.y scene, awaiting only for a signal to begin.

Mr. Riddle recognizes the intruder as Mr. Clark, who is hunting lost horses.

"Why for he come here? We no want him," says Boston Charley.

"Mr. Dyer, will you go out to Mr. Clark and send him back?" requests Mr.

Meacham.