Spotted Deer

by Elmer Russell Gregor

Spotted Deer rallied at the challenge. He staggered unsteadily toward the doorway of the lodge. Fearing a trick, the Shawnees sprang after him. They seized him and led him outside.

The village was brightly illuminated by the glow from a large fire in the center of the camp. About it was gathered a great company of Shawnees. The appearance of the prisoner threw them into a frenzy of excitement. As he was led forward by his guards the Shawnees began to shout and laugh and shake their weapons. They made it plain that he might expect no mercy.

Spotted Deer was bound to a heavy log that had been set up a short distance from the fire. Then the warrior who had interfered in the attack at the edge of the camp came toward him. He was accompanied by the leader of the scouts and several other warriors. The Shawnees suddenly grew quiet as these men approached the captive. The oldest warrior addressed Spotted Deer in the Delaware dialect.

"You are a young man, but you are a Delaware," he said. "The Delawares are our enemies. The Shawnees kill their enemies. You must die. You have spoken big words. Now we will see how brave you are."

He turned and spoke briefly to his tribesmen. A company of warriors came forward and formed a circle about the Delaware. They carried their weapons and were painted for war. The Shawnees greeted them with shouts of approval. For a few moments they stood, glaring fiercely at the prisoner. Then they began to move slowly about the fire, stepping in time with the rhythm of a slow, mournful chant.

It was a weird and fascinating scene: the great fire roaring and crackling and sending its sparks high up into the night; the vast assemblage of Shawnees with their fierce, eager faces, like wolves gathered about a stricken deer; the circle of half-naked warriors moving slowly about their foe in the prelude to the grim ceremony that would follow. And, most interesting of all, the youthful prisoner, bound and helpless, waiting calmly for torture and death at the hands of his enemies.

For some moments the dancers continued their slow, sinister parade about the captive. They made no attempt to attack him, but appeared to be endeavoring to impress him with their grim earnestness. The solemn, dirgelike chant was taken up by the entire company, and Spotted Deer believed that the Shawnees were singing the death song. Then one of the warriors, who seemed to be a leader, suddenly straightened and raised a piercing yell that reverberated wildly through the camp. It broke the solemnity of the ceremony and roused the dancers to action.

A moment afterward they began capering frantically about Spotted Deer, shouting and jeering and flourishing their weapons. The Shawnees urged them on with yells of approval, and the entire assemblage was soon in an uproar. Once aroused, the dancers soon began to threaten and attack their prisoner. They swung their war clubs about his head, aimed their arrows at his heart and made close, dangerous passes with their knives. Some rushed forward and struck him in the face.

Spotted Deer faced the ordeal without a tremor. His heart was filled with a fierce resolve to uphold the traditional courage of his people, and he was determined to remain strong to the end. He waited, therefore, with head erect and eyes flashing, for the punishment which he felt sure would soon be inflicted upon him. The Shawnees appeared to be rousing themselves into a fury. Encouraged by the shouts of the spectators, the dancers had thrown off restraint and abandoned themselves to the mad antics of the war dance. They made every effort to intimidate the unfortunate young warrior who had fallen into their hands. Some rushed toward him and drove their tomahawks into the post close beside him. Others shot their arrows within a hand-width of his body. Several seized him by the scalp-lock and swept their knives about his head. Spotted Deer, however, showed no fear.

Then above the tumult he suddenly heard the shrill, ominous laugh of the villainous old Mystery Woman. A moment afterward she tottered forward into the firelight, and pointed excitedly toward the captive. As she stood revealed in the lurid glow from the flames her appearance was startling. Her frail, bowed form was covered with an old deerskin robe. Her white, unkempt hair fell loosely about her shoulders. Her aged features were distorted in a fiendish grin, and her small, ferretlike eyes glowed threateningly from their deep cavities beneath her shaggy brows. She looked like an evil demon whom the fire had drawn from concealment in the black depths of the night. The Shawnees watched her in silent, superstitious awe. Spotted Deer felt his courage falter as the fearsome old creature confronted him.