Camp-fire and Wigwam

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

Aye, so He had; and so He will always befriend us, if we but use our opportunities and fly not in His face.

Carefully he rose to his feet, and, gathering the bison robe around his fevered frame, glanced at the two unconscious figures, and then at the form of his rifle leaning against the side of the lodge and dimly revealed in the flickering firelight.

As he stepped forward to recover his gun, everything in the room swam before his eyes, a million bees seemed to be humming in his brain, and, clutching the air in a vague way, he sank back on his couch with a groan, which awakened Ogallah and his squaw. The chief came to the sitting position with a surprising quickness, while the wife opened her eyes and glared through the dim firelight at the figure. The dog slumbered on.

Ogallah seeing that it was only the captive who was probably dying, lay back again on the bare earth and resumed his sleep. The woman watched the lad for several minutes as if she felt some interest in learning whether a pale face passed away in the same manner as one of her own race. Inasmuch as the sick boy was so long in settling the question, she closed her eyes and awaited a more convenient season.

From the moment Jack Carleton succumbed, helpless in the grasp of the fiery fever, he became sick nigh unto death. Those who have been so afflicted need no attempt to tell his experience or feelings. Why he should have fallen so critically ill, cannot be judged with certainty, nor is it a question of importance; the superinducing cause probably lay in the nervous strain to which he was subjected.

He instantly became delirious and remained so through the night. He talked of his mother, of Deerfoot, of Otto, and of others; was fleeing from indescribable dangers, and he frequently cried out in his fright. The chief and his squaw heard him and understood the cause, but never raised their hands to give him help.

Jack became more quiet toward morning and fell into a fitful sleep which lasted until the day was far advanced. Then, when he opened his eyes, his brain still somewhat clouded, he uttered a gasp of dismay and terror.

Crouching in the lodge beside him was the most frightful object on which he had ever looked. It had the form of a man, but was covered with skins like those of a bear and bison, and a long thick horn projected from each corner of the forehead. The face, which glared out from this unsightly dress, was covered with daubs, rings and splashes of red, white and black paint, applied in the most fantastic fashion. The black eyes, encircled by yellow rings, suggested a resemblance to some serpent or reptilian monster. The figure held a kind of rattle made of hollow horn in either hand, and was watching the countenance of the sick boy with close attention. When he saw the eyes open, he made a leap in the air, began a doleful chant, swayed the rattles and leaped about the lodge in the most grotesque dance that can be imagined. Ogallah and his squaw were not present, so Jack had the hideous creature all to himself.

Enough sense remained with the boy for him to know that he was the Medicine Man of the tribe, whom the chieftain had been kind enough to send to his help. Instead of giving the youth the few simple remedies he required, he resorted to incantation and sorcery as has been their custom for hundreds of years. The barbarian fraud continued to chant and rattle and dance back and forth, until Jack's eyes grew weary of following the performance. The mind, too, which was so nigh its own master in the morning, grew weaker, and finally let go its hold. Sometimes the waltzing Medicine Man suddenly lengthened to the height of a dozen yards; sometimes he was bobbing about on his head, and again he was ten times as broad as he was long, and hopping up and down on one short leg. From the other side of the lodge he often made a bound that landed him on the bison skin, which lay over the breast of the sick boy, where he executed a final tattoo that drove the last vestige of consciousness from him.

It was all a torturing jumble of wild and grim fancies, with occasional glimmerings of reason, which led Jack to clutch the air as if he would not let them go; but they whisked away in spite of all he could do, and a black "rayless void" descended upon and gathered round about him, until the mind was lost in its own overturnings and struggles, and all consciousness of being departed.