TOKENS
Silence prevailed for a few minutes in the Indian encampment after Klitonda and Owindia had left. All sat or stood with bent heads, each waiting for some one else to speak first. Nagu alone cast his eyes furtively around. He was pleased at the defeat of the chief, but somewhat disturbed by the stillness which reigned. He partly divined the cause, and believed that the Indians were ashamed of their own cowardice, and the way they had treated Klitonda. He knew how his own influence even now hung in the balance, and it needed only a few to make a decided stand, and all would join them.
And while this unnatural quietness brooded over the place a score of hunters glided into their midst. Their arrival at this moment was most opportune. The tension was relieved, and all began to talk at once. The subject was Klitonda, and the message he had delivered. Nothing was said about the medicine man or the part that he had played in defeating the object of their chief's visit. But the returned hunters at length learned the whole story when Nagu had betaken himself to his own lodge. They were a score of strapping braves, and had travelled far that day. But all sense of weariness disappeared as they drew aside and earnestly consulted with one another. Out in the wild during the long nights around their camp fires they had discussed many things concerning their own land, and the dominant sway of the Chilcats. For their chief they had the most profound respect. They believed that with a band of men to support him the invaders could be driven back. This idea had been gripping them hard for some time, and had drawn them together more than formerly. Kindred spirits they were who had now emerged from the forest at this critical moment.
The medicine man was not satisfied with their presence. He watched them from his lodge, and endeavoured to hear what they were saying, but all in vain, for the young men spoke low, and kept their counsel to themselves. Had Nagu drawn near just then it would not have been well with him, for these braves were in no mood for interference from this creature whom they were beginning to despise.
Next morning, bright and early, they glided away from camp, and followed the tracks made by Klitonda and his daughter in the pure white snow. Their eyes were keenly alert, and they moved forward with scarcely a sound. They were evidently watching for something besides the chief and Owindia. It was almost dark, when, about to emerge from the forest to cross a small lake, they paused abruptly, and crouched back among the trees. Out in the open their eyes had caught sight of a lone lank timber wolf. He had stopped and was sniffing the tracks he had found upon the snow. Presently he lifted his head and threw his nose into the air. The hated man smell had drifted to his sensitive nostrils, and that spelled danger. But ere he had time to beat a retreat a half dozen bow strings twanged among the trees, and as many pointed arrows hurtled through the air, and sank deep into the brute's lean side. With a wild yell of agony the wolf gave a tremendous bound into the air and then rolled over in the snow, its body quivering in the throes of death.
It did not take the hunters long to rush from the forest, and examine their victim. Soon a sharp knife was produced, and with much deftness the heart was removed from the animal's body. It was apparent that the wolf was needed neither for its skin, nor for food. There was another motive for its death. With the heart warm and bleeding thus procured, the braves formed themselves in a circle about the grewsome object. Then each hunter drew forth an arrow, and inserted its point deep into the soft flesh. No word was spoken during this performance, which had the appearance of a religious ceremony, bloody though it was. Then facing the forest to their left they held aloft their dripping arrows, and as one their voices rang out:
"As the heart blood of this wolf dyes the points of these arrows, so twenty Ayana hunters will never cease until these same points are stained with the heart blood of their enemies. Let these blood-marked arrows be tokens of their resolve, and let the Great Spirit bear witness."
This done they sped on their way, leaving behind them the body of the wolf, its blood flowing forth, and turning the white snow to a crimson hue. By this time darkness had settled over the land, but the hunters heeded it not. With never a single hesitation they followed the tracks which stretched out far ahead. Ere long the moon rose full and bright above the tops of the pointed trees. It rode high in the heavens, and dimly illuminated the long cathedral-like aisles of the silent forest. The trees threw out straight trailing shadows like sharp pointed lances. It was a scene of surpassing beauty; light and shade, peace and grandeur; the full triumphant moon above, the gem-besprinkled carpet of snow below. And through this magic palace sped the feet of the Ayana braves. Their hearts were not stirred by the splendour which surrounded them. To them this fairy world held no fascination. Their hearts were not enthralled by Nature's alluring witchery.
It was midnight when at length their steps grew slower, and they moved more cautiously. Through the keen night air drifted the scent of smouldering wood. Presently a rough "lean-to" was faintly discerned several rods ahead. They peered keenly forward, but no one was visible, and not a sound disturbed the intense silence. The hunters did not approach any nearer now, but remained crouched upon the snow in a watchful attitude. It was a keen night, but the young men did not seem to mind it.
For about two hours they kept watch over the little camp. Then they noticed Klitonda rise to his feet and rekindle the fire from a few hot coals. At once the young men stepped quickly forward and stood before the chief. Turning, the latter saw them, and leaped for his bow and arrows. Then standing defiantly before the place where Owindia was lying, he faced the young men. He believed that they had come to attack him and to take him back as captive. He was, therefore, much surprised when one of the braves advanced and lifted his hand as a sign of peace. Still Klitonda was not satisfied, and remained ready for any emergency. Perhaps this was only a ruse on the part of these braves. Why had they followed him so far into the forest unless they had some sinister motive in view? And thus standing there in the light of the moon he appeared a most formidable antagonist. A man of powerful build, and of great stature, he seemed now a veritable giant. His aspect at this moment was enough to cause even the stoutest heart to shrink. The advancing brave hesitated, and then spoke.
"Great Chief," he began, "the Ayana braves are no enemies to Klitonda. They bring peace. They come to serve their chief, not to harm him. They followed hard upon his tracks until they found him. They bring tokens of their allegiance. Will the Great Chief receive them?"
He paused, and Klitonda lowered his bow.
"Why do the Ayana braves come here?" he replied. "Do they wish to mock their chief? But, stay, Klitonda is their chief no longer; they have rejected him. He is an outcast. His own people would give him over to the Chilcats. His plans have failed, they are like this," and Klitonda seized a handful of snow, and let it fall slowly downward.
"The Great Chiefs words are only partly true," the young brave quietly returned. "There are twenty braves standing here, whose hearts are true to their chief. They would follow him to death on behalf of their country. They bring these tokens of their faith—tokens stained with blood. As they are red from a wolf's bleeding heart, so may they be more deeply stained by the heart blood of the Chilcat wolves."
Saying which the brave stepped forward, and handed Klitonda the blood-marked arrow. One by one his companions did the same. Not a word was spoken during this performance. Klitonda received them all, and held the arrows in his right hand. He looked at the tokens, and then at the young men standing before him.
"What will Klitonda do with these?" he asked, holding forth the score of arrows.
"Keep them," was the reply, "and when the Great Chief wants the twenty Ayana braves, let him send the tokens, and they will come swift as the wind."
To these words Klitonda said nothing. He stood looking beyond the braves far off into the forest. The unexpected appearance of these young men was affecting him deeply. The great weight which had been pressing upon his heart was somewhat removed. All of his own people had not rejected him. There were twenty braves who were ready to stand by his side. There was comfort in the thought. He wished to speak, to tell all that was in his heart. But words refused to come. He was like a dumb man. The braves saw the struggle which was taking place in their chief's mind, and his silence impressed them more than a long oration.
Presently Klitonda turned as if to place several sticks upon the fire. As he did so he saw Owindia standing quietly near. Upon her face was an expression of joy. She had been a silent witness of all that had taken place. The braves had seen her when first she appeared, but they gave no sign that they were aware of her presence. But twenty hearts thrilled as they saw her standing near her father. Klitonda held out the arrows to Owindia.
"Take them, little one," he said. "They will be safe in your keeping. Is it the will of the Ayana braves," he continued, turning to the young man, "that their chief's daughter should guard these tokens which they have brought?"
"Ah, ah," burst at once from a score of lips. "Let the chief's daughter keep the blood-marked tokens."
Thus in the depth of that great forest twenty resolute braves gave their allegiance to Klitonda their chief. Indians they were, in the rough, untouched by any of the refining influences of civilisation. And yet they were real sons of Mother Nature. Their word was their bond, and having once made their vow of allegiance nothing could induce them to break it.