“Running Fox, you have heard some great people,” growled Quenischquney, the panther. “Well, now I am going to help you. It is a good thing to be strong, and brave, and swift, and cautious, but you must also be able to steal up and surprise your enemies. No one can do that better than my people. But I must warn you that our young men are very fierce, and you will have a hard fight if you try to kill one of them. However, I will give you power to do it. Then you must take the longest claw from each foot, and keep them about you.”
“Running Fox, I am smaller and weaker than all these great people who have talked to you,” barked Wisawanik, the squirrel. “However, I am also more nimble, and better at hiding. If you wish to travel safely to the village where Standing Wolf lives, you must be nimble and good at hiding. If you will kill one of our chiefs who wear the black robes, and carry his scalp with you, you will be able to hide so well that your enemies will not be able to find you.”
“Running Fox, you have been promised some good things, but I am going to offer you the best of all,” boasted Gokhos, the owl. “If you have all the powers that these good friends are going to give you, it will all be useless without my gift When darkness falls then it will be safer to travel through the forest. But to do that you must have eyes that can look through the night. My people have this gift. If you can kill one of our great white leaders, who live far away in the country of the Mohawks, you will not only be able to see as well at night as by day, but you will also have magic power to overcome whoever may try to harm you.”
“Running Fox, you know me; I am called ‘The Frightener’,” said Wischalowe, the rattlesnake. “Whoever hears my warning trembles with fear. If you will kill one of our old men, and tie his war-drum to your belt so that it makes a noise when you walk you will frighten away all who seek to harm you.”
When Wischalowe finished speaking they all remained silent, waiting for some talk from Running Fox. For some moments he was at a loss as to just how to address these strange medicine-creatures. While he was thinking just how to thank them they suddenly disappeared. At that moment Running Fox regained consciousness. Day had dawned, and the sun was well above the eastern ridges. For a moment or so the bewildered lad looked anxiously about him, expecting to see the strange creatures that had appeared in his delirium. When he failed to find them his heart gave a great hound of joy, for he believed that they had been medicine-creatures sent by Getanittowit to help him. The idea gave him strength, and he struggled to his feet and offered thanks to Getanittowit. Then he toiled painfully down the mountainside. It took him most of the day to reach the valley. When he finally staggered into the camp he went directly to old Sky Dog, and collapsed as he reached the door of his lodge.
CHAPTER II—INTO THE PERILOUS NORTH
That night Running Fox sufficiently recovered his strength to tell his dream to Sky Dog, the medicine-man. The latter listened with much interest as the excited lad described his conference with the strange medicine-creatures. When he had finished his story, Sky Dog assured him that the dream was a good omen. He declared that if Running Fox would do as the medicine-creatures had advised he would pass safely through all perils, and live to accomplish his purpose.
Running Fox hurried to his father’s lodge with a joyful heart. Having been taught to believe all the simple superstitions of his people, he had implicit faith in the assurances of the medicine-man. Still he realized that his task was a difficult one. He knew that if the Mohawks discovered his trail they would hunt him down as relentlessly as a pack of wolves, and he felt sure that if he fell into their hands death at the torture stake would be his only alternative. The thought sobered him. However, it soon fled from his mind, for he believed that the mysterious powers which he had received from the medicine-creatures, and his own courage and resourcefulness, would enable him to outwit his foes.
Black Panther was much impressed by the story of the dream. He, too, declared that it was a good omen. He immediately sent criers through the village inviting the people to a feast to celebrate his son’s departure upon the war-trail.
When his plans became known Running Fox was besieged by a host of youthful volunteers who begged to accompany him. He refused them, however, as he was unwilling to assume the responsibility of a war-leader before he had tested his own courage and ability. Still there was one whom he found it difficult to deny. It was his friend, Spotted Deer, a lad of his own age, and his constant companion through all the happy years of boyhood. They had invariably shared every adventure, and the thought of being barred from the first real war-journey drove Spotted Deer into a frenzy of despair. He argued, he coaxed, he reproached, but Running Fox refused to yield.