CHAPTER XI.
The Shian Captive.
During the month of May previous, business had called Major Dougherty to the Otoe Agency, on the Missouri. One morning, while there, a wearied messenger made his appearance. He had been sent by a half-breed from the Pawnee village, with intelligence that the Loups had taken a Shian woman prisoner, and intended to burn her at the stake, in the course of a few days.[J]
[J] The Pawnee Loups are the only Pawnee tribe that yet retain this custom. They offer their victim to the Great Star, (the planet Venus.) The prisoner is, if possible, kept in ignorance of his intended fate, until led out to die. The sacrifices are generally offered in the spring of the year, to insure a bountiful harvest.
The Agent determined if possible to save her. Having made a few hurried preparations, he set off with five companions. A journey of three days brought them to the village. The news of their visit and the object of it had preceded them, and they experienced an ungracious reception. No hand was extended in friendship; no voice uttered the words of welcome.
As the little band passed through the village, the tops of the lodges were crowded with women and children, and an immense concourse was drawn up in front of the dwelling of the chief. They forced their way through the fierce and sullen mob, and cleared a passage to the entrance.
Here stood the chief. His welcome, and his alone was cordial. He ushered the Agent into his dwelling, nor did he turn a deaf ear to his request, that the Shian female might be spared. He told him, however, that he had no power to free her, and that all he could do would be to assemble a council of the nation, and lay the matter before them; that he would use his influence; and that if they could be prevailed upon, the captive should be saved. He accordingly despatched messengers in every direction, to call a council of the chiefs and braves of the nation, and they assembled that very night. They took their seats around the lodge in silence, with faces which gave but little hope of a merciful result to their deliberations. In the centre sat the Agent and his companions; and near them the Shian captive. She had been led in passively, and made no appeal, for she had no hope. It seemed as if every sense and feeling had been paralyzed, by the horror of her approaching fate.
The Agent rose and stated his object to the meeting. He was a firm man; he had spent much of his life among the savages; but it needed all his resolution, and all his knowledge of the Indian character, to effect the desired object. As he spoke there was no friendly look returned; no sound of approbation uttered. They listened with a calm, cold air, and he finished his address, conscious that he had gained no point, nor enlisted the friendly feeling of a single breast, in the whole of the dark circles which surrounded him.
When he ended, the chief, who during the whole time had been seated quietly at the foot of a pillar, rose. He was in favour of releasing the captive, and of sending her off with the whites. He spoke with the wild energy, and vehement gesticulation customary among the Indians. During his speech there was a silence—a portentous silence in the lodge. But when he had finished, a hundred throats yelled out cries of anger, and a hundred eyes gleamed fiercely upon him. It was not, however, in his nature to yield. Incensed at the opposition to his will, he raised his voice, until it even drowned the noise of the whole assembly, and swore by the Great Spirit, that she should be delivered to the whites; and he dared any man of the whole assembly, to offer her the slightest injury.
All quailed before the master spirit, and bowed to the superior energy of his nature. One after another they left the lodge, until the chief, the captive, and the whites were its sole occupants. In a few moments the chief went out also. In an hour he returned, followed by two armed warriors, whom he stationed in the opposite part of the lodge, placing the squaw between them. Upon being asked the reason of this precaution, he mentioned that the Soldier Chief, instigated by one of the Medecin-men of the village, had created some disturbance, which caused him to fear for the life of the captive, and that these men were placed to protect her. He evaded all farther inquiries, and shortly after left the lodge.
The whites stretched themselves upon their bear-skins, but scarcely closed their eyes that night. The guards kept watch on each side of the captive; motionless, but sleepless. On the following morning, the horses were saddled in front of the lodge, and the party having armed themselves, prepared to mount. The chief led out the captive, and forcing back the angry crowd, he placed her upon a horse, between two of the whites; at the same time cautioning them to lose no time in leaving the village. They accordingly attempted to push forward; but the crowd hemmed them in so closely, that it was with difficulty they prevented their horses from trampling them down. This throng continued to press round them, until they reached the lodge of the Soldier Chief. As they passed it, a bow twanged from within, and an arrow whizzing through the air, was buried up to the feather in the side of the Shian captive. With a loud scream, she tossed her arms in the air, and fell forward upon the neck of the horse. At the same moment, a loud roar rose from the multitude; and two Indians seizing the bridle, jerked the horse onwards. The crowd opened to let them pass; but before the whites could follow, it had again closed. At that moment, the Agent heard a loud whoop behind him, and turning, beheld the Black Chief, and the Soldier, grappled in a desperate conflict, while the followers of each, stood by, watching the result. They were both unarmed, and the issue was to depend upon their bodily strength alone. They were well matched, but the Black Chief had the advantage, for he had a deadly gripe upon the throat of his opponent.
The Agent knew, however, that whichever might be victorious, the conflict would terminate fatally to himself. He therefore sprang from his horse, and succeeded with the aid of several chiefs, in dragging them apart, and put an end to the contest. He then turned to look for the captive. She had been borne off by the crowd, who were rushing over the prairie with deafening yells.
Still determined if possible to save her, he sprang upon his horse and galloped after them. But he was too late. They had torn the wretched being to pieces, smeared themselves with her gore, and were whirling her head and quivering limbs in the air.
From that time, there had been a settled hatred, between the Black Chief and the Soldier. They spoke not; they entered not the lodges of each other, and acted no more in concert than if they had been two leaders of separate villages.