Camp-fire and Wigwam

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

Inasmuch as the only helps to be employed were the long, forked sticks carried in their hands, it will be seen that the game offered a boundless field for the roughest sort of play, mingled with no little dexterity and skill. Some swarthy-hued rascal, while on a dead run, would thrust the point of his stick under the crotch, and lifting it high above his head, start or rather continue with might and main toward his goal. At that time, as, indeed, at every minute, each young American was literally yelling like so many "wild Indians." Desperately as the youth ran, others more fleet of foot speedily overtook him, and one, reaching forward while going like a deer, lifted the crotch from the other stick, and circling gracefully about, sped for his own goal. But some youth at his heels leaped in air and with a sweep of his own stick struck the other and sent the crotch spinning and doubling through the air. A dozen other sticks were plunged after it, but it fell to the ground, and then the fight reached its climax. The parties became one wild, desperate, shouting, yelling, scrambling mob. Legs and arms seemed to be flying everywhere, and the wonder was that a score of limbs and necks were not broken. But it rarely hurts a boy to become hurt, and though bruises were plenty, no one suffered serious harm. After a few minutes' struggle, the crotch would be seen perched on the stick of one of the boys, who, fighting his way through the mob, ran with astonishing speed, with friends and foes converging upon him, and the certainty that he would be tripped and sent flying heels over head, before he could reach safety.

After awhile, when the prize had been gradually worked toward the goal of the stronger party, some youth, by a piece of skill and daring, would make a dash for home and bear down all opposition. It followed, of course, that his side had won, and, after a brief rest, the game was renewed and pressed with the same vigor as before.

This Indian boy's game is still played by many Indian tribes. Among the Senecas it is called "Gah-haw-ge," and I make no doubt that more than one reader of these pages has witnessed the exciting amusement, which so thrilled the blood of Jack Carleton that he could hardly restrain himself from taking part in the fun. But he had no crotched stick, without which he would have been a cypher, and then, as he had never attempted the game, he knew he possessed no skill. The venture would have been rash, for in the excited state of the Indian youths, and armed as they were with sticks, it is almost certain that at some stage of the game they would have turned on the pale face and beaten him to death.

The rough amusement lasted fully two hours, during which Jack Carleton and many of the warriors were interested spectators. At last the youngsters became weary and the sport ended. As the stumpy youths straggled apart, the perspiration on their faces caused them to shine like burnished copper. All at once one of them emitted a whoop and broke into a swift run, the rest instantly falling in behind him, and speeding with the same hilarious jollity.

The heart of Jack Carleton stood still, for the leading Indian was coming straight toward him.

"They're aiming for me," was his conclusion, as he gripped the handle of his knife and half drew it from his girdle.

But the whooping youth swerved a little to the right, and was ten feet away from the terrified captive when he dashed by with unabated speed. He did not so much as glance at Jack, nor did the procession of screeching, bobbing moon-faces, as they streamed past, give him the least attention.

The lad who set off with the lead, kept it up with undiminished speed, until he reached the edge of the river. Then he made a leap high upward and outward. Jack saw the crouching figure, with the head bent forward, the arms crooked at the elbow, and the legs doubled at the knees, during the single breath that it seemed suspended in the air. Then describing a beautiful parabola, he descended, and striking the water, sent the spray flying in every direction, while the body went to the bottom. The others followed, so fast that the dusky forms dropped like hailstones, tumbled over each other, splashed, dove, frolicked, shouted, and acted with the same abandon as before.

It is by such sports and training that the American Indian acquires his fleetness, high health, and powers of endurance.

But Jack had grown weary of watching the antics of the youngsters, and turned about and walked homeward. He saw from the position of the sun that it was near noon, and he was hungry; but he was more impressed by the change of treatment since his last affray than by anything else. He walked past five separate wigwams before reaching the imperial residence, which for the time being was his own. There were warriors, girls, and squaws lounging near each one. They raised their repellant faces and looked at the captive with no little curiosity, but offered him no harm.