The Chief of the Ranges: A Tale of the Yukon

by H. A. Cody

Thus hour after hour they bent to their paddles and in grim silence advanced. Klitonda's thoughts were with Owindia. What had happened to her? he wondered. Was she at the Post? Had the Chilcats made the attack, and if so what was the outcome? Would they be in time? He believed that the assault would be made at night, and if the white men could keep back the Chilcats for a while they might be able to get there before the end came.

The two canoes were in mid-stream, and the banks lined with thick trees were in complete darkness. They did not see, therefore, a canoe drawn upon the shore on their right as they sped by, nor the forms of several men crouching among the trees. Had they known that the deserters from the Post were there waiting with almost bated breath until the unknown canoes had passed, Klitonda would no doubt have forced them to give a quick account of their strange actions. But they knew nothing of what had happened so continued on their way. Hardly a sound did they make as their paddles cleaved the water. Slowly the night wore on and edged into the dawn of a new day, a day which was to mean much for the Ayana people. The trees along the shore became more distinct, and stood shivering from the coolness of the night and the filmy mist which hung like a long thread over the stream. The still weirdness of early morn exerts a peculiar influence upon the heart. It is the time when all the little creatures of forest and air are silent, and the quietness seems to portend future events. It affected the superstitious hearts of the Indians in the canoes. They knew that shortly the Post would be reached, and the struggle with their merciless foes could not be delayed much longer. It was only natural that the paddles should not move with their former swiftness, and that a number of the men should have grave doubts as to the wisdom of the undertaking.

But no such thoughts disturbed the mind of Klitonda. His paddle never for a single moment ceased that mighty sweep which his gigantic arm alone could give. He appeared to be tireless. After what he had experienced it was wonderful to his men how he could continue paddling hour after hour the freshest one of them all. An expression of great determination lighted his face. His eyes gleamed with a far away look. He was fighting the battle with his enemy. He was dealing terrific blows, and levelling the Chilcats to the ground long before the Post was reached.

At length he gave the order in a low tone to run the canoes ashore, and when all had disembarked he gave his men a few words of instruction. He did not consider it advisable to go down into the open and thus expose themselves to the Chilcats should they have taken possession of the place. They must separate into three bands, and spread off into the forest, and thus come up behind the enemy in three different directions. By this manœuvre Klitonda hoped to frighten the Chilcats into believing that a very large band of Ayana Indians had come up against them. Having given careful instructions to his men Klitonda chose five to go with him, and the rest were sent over toward the enemy's camp. At once Klitonda with his followers struck straight through the forest for the Post. They had not gone far ere a faint sound fell upon their ears, which brought them to a sudden standstill. They looked at one another, and without a word sped forward. Well did they know the meaning of that sound. The attack had been made and they would be in time. A feeling of exultation thrilled Klitonda's heart. The spirit of generations of warriors was beating within his breast. He longed to be at his enemy, to have a hand in the fight. It was the wild volcano of rage and hatred which had been threatening for so long, which had now burst forth. No longer could it be restrained. His blood was up, and what to him were a thousand Chilcats? His companions could not keep up with their hurrying chief. His feet seemed scarcely to touch the ground. The sounds of shooting became much more distinct as they advanced.

Reaching the edge of the forest Klitonda became more cautious. He peered forth from among the trees, and seeing the Chilcats swarming at the gate of the Post the truth flashed upon him in the twinkling of an eye. They had broken down the barrier and were upon the white men. The sound of shooting had ceased, but he could hear the savage yells, and at times cries of pain. His men were by his side now. Quickly fitting an arrow to the sinew he drew the bow to its full capacity and sent a missive of death right into that scrambling band of Indians. His companions did the same, but their arrows fell short of their marks. A yell of pain and surprise followed Klitonda's shot. The Chilcats looked toward the forest and as they looked, from two other directions came a rain of arrows, most of which found lodging in the bodies of the besiegers.

The Chilcats now made a wild rush for the cover of the forest, and as they hurried across the open were met by another shower of arrows from the concealed Ayana warriors. But some remained at the Post, and hoped to find shelter behind those wooden walls when they had overcome the two lone defenders. It would not do to let their enemy get possession first.

Klitonda, seeing how matters stood, and that the white men were being hard pressed, stepped forth from his place of concealment. He believed that Owindia was within the Post, and now that the gate had been battered down she would be in great danger from the Chilcats. He surmised that the defenders were hard pressed as they were doing no shooting and seemed to be engaged in a hand to hand struggle with their opponents. With a call to his men to follow he dashed across the open, and with axe in hand fell upon the struggling Chilcats. So sudden was the attack that for a minute the besiegers were taken by surprise, and daunted by the towering form which had leaped so suddenly upon them. But the fear was only temporary, for when they recognised the chief of the Ayana they gave a yell and turned upon him.

Klitonda had only his axe in his hand, but as his enemies rushed toward him he levelled them one by one with the terrible sweep of his right arm. They came two and three at a time, and fearful was the struggle which then took place. Backwards and forwards they surged and swayed. Now Klitonda was forced back step by step, and again he made his opponent retreat. The ground around him was strewn thick with the bodies of dead and wounded Chilcats. Out of the dozen who had set upon him only three were at length left. These seeing how little was their chance of winning against the gigantic chief, turned and fled. One of them ere he left seized a musket which was lying upon the ground, and lifting it to his shoulder aimed it straight at Klitonda and fired. There was a deafening report. The chief staggered, threw up his hands wildly into the air and fell forward upon the ground right across the body of a dead Chilcat.

Klitonda's five companions had attempted to follow their leader to the Post. But as they were some distance behind they were met by a band of Chilcats, and so were forced to retreat to the shelter of the forest. And here amid the trees began a desperate struggle. From tree to tree they fought, both sides watching for the slightest opportunity. The Ayana fought with great bravery, and endeavoured to make every arrow tell. Ere long their quivers were empty, and they had nothing but their axes left. The Chilcats on the other hand not only out-numbered the Ayana, but their weapons were superior. Armed with muskets they were able to pour a withering fire upon their opponents. Their supply of ammunition was abundant, and they were able to keep their enemy from coming to close quarters. Could the Ayana have engaged in a hand to hand encounter even though the odds were against them they would have had a good chance of winning the fight. But whenever they appeared from behind the trees they were met by a shower of bullets. At length only two of the five were left, and they, seeing that their case was hopeless, made a frantic effort to escape. They turned to flee, but had taken only a few steps when they fell to the ground, pierced by several balls.

And the fate which befell these five overtook the rest of the Ayana. Their arrows which were soon spent could not contend with the more destructive muskets. Soon most of them were lying dead or wounded upon the ground, while only a few escaped and made their way back to the lake with the terrible tale of death and defeat. The Ayana warriors had made a determined struggle for freedom. But they had not counted upon the overwhelming power of the muskets which the Chilcats carried. Their primitive weapons, no matter how powerful, were no match for the deadly guns of modern civilisation.