The whites stretched themselves upon their bear-skins, but scarcely closed their eyes that night. The guards kept watch on each side of the captive; motionless, but sleepless. On the following morning, the horses were saddled in front of the lodge, and the party having armed themselves, prepared to mount. The chief led out the captive, and forcing back the angry crowd, he placed her upon a horse, between two of the whites; at the same time cautioning them to lose no time in leaving the village. They accordingly attempted to push forward; but the crowd hemmed them in so closely, that it was with difficulty they prevented their horses from trampling them down. This throng continued to press round them, until they reached the lodge of the Soldier Chief. As they passed it, a bow twanged from within, and an arrow whizzing through the air, was buried up to the feather in the side of the Shian captive. With a loud scream, she tossed her arms in the air, and fell forward upon the neck of the horse. At the same moment, a loud roar rose from the multitude; and two Indians seizing the bridle, jerked the horse onwards. The crowd opened to let them pass; but before the whites could follow, it had again closed. At that moment, the Agent heard a loud whoop behind him, and turning, beheld the Black Chief, and the Soldier, grappled in a desperate conflict, while the followers of each, stood by, watching the result. They were both unarmed, and the issue was to depend upon their bodily strength alone. They were well matched, but the Black Chief had the advantage, for he had a deadly gripe upon the throat of his opponent.
The Agent knew, however, that whichever might be victorious, the conflict would terminate fatally to himself. He therefore sprang from his horse, and succeeded with the aid of several chiefs, in dragging them apart, and put an end to the contest. He then turned to look for the captive. She had been borne off by the crowd, who were rushing over the prairie with deafening yells.
Still determined if possible to save her, he sprang upon his horse and galloped after them. But he was too late. They had torn the wretched being to pieces, smeared themselves with her gore, and were whirling her head and quivering limbs in the air.
From that time, there had been a settled hatred, between the Black Chief and the Soldier. They spoke not; they entered not the lodges of each other, and acted no more in concert than if they had been two leaders of separate villages.
CHAPTER XII.
Exploit of the Black Chief.—Alarm in the Village.
We were sitting late one evening, in the lodge of the chief, around the fire. There were about thirty Indians present, some were lying upon the floor, and others sitting huddled up, wrapped in their robes, with their unbending gaze fixed upon our faces. The servants were spreading our bear-skins and blankets, preparatory to our retiring for the night. While thus situated, the interpreter, after dwelling upon the desperate nature of our host, related to us the following anecdote, illustrative of his character.
About a year previous to this, the Black Chief had by some means or other fallen into disgrace with his people. They shunned him, and refused to admit him to their councils, until by some heroic action, he should wipe off the stain upon his name. He knew that there was no resource; that the blood of an enemy alone, would retrieve his fame. He determined, therefore, to shed it, in a manner which even the most desperate of his own tribe, would not have dreamed of, and which would strike a salutary terror of his name, into the hearts of his hostile neighbours.
Early one morning, taking his bow and quiver, he left his lodge, and started on foot for the Crow village, about two hundred miles distant. He set out upon his journey, without attendants, and singing his death-song. His tribe watched until he was out of sight; they knew not where he was going; he might return soon, in a day, in a month, and perhaps never. They knew his desperate character; they knew that his errand was one of blood; and they doubted not, that if he returned, he would bring home trophies, sufficient to place him once more, at the head of their councils.