A few days later he showed this to Father de Smet, who came with an escort of thirty mountaineer warriors to visit the dreaded Blackfeet. The priest rendered the last office.
Being of one faith, de Smet and Rising Wolf worked together throughout the plague of 1846, from which the Blackfoot nation has never rallied. Only a pitiful remnant represents to-day that breed of savage gentlefolk, the finest horsemen in the modern world. The Christianity which they see in practice has not converted them, nor can they still believe in the Sun-god who left them at the mercy of the Stonehearts.
Hope is dead, and with that is gone the sunny, breezy, happy warrior spirit; but not the stoic manhood underneath, or the strange distinctive charm which appeals with greater power than ever to white men who have hearts.
* * * * * * *
Of the three who went over the Wolf Trail, No-man had died without being tortured, so he was the first to awaken, not on the earth or in his earthly body. The flowers attracted his first thoughts, a bush near by his head of wild briar covered with roses in blossom, some red, some white. Tall fronds of goldenrod bent over him, and the whole pasture glowed with big, brown-hearted, orange-petaled marigolds, up to the edge of the sarvis bushes snowed down with their sweet blossoms. "Surely," he wondered, "it is the berry moon. Why are there flowers?"
His deerskin hunting dress had been old, soiled, ragged, most of the fringes used up for strings or lashings. Now it was brand-new, perfumed with wood smoke.
He had been sick, but was well, maimed but was made whole, with such a glow of health, riot of blood, and joy of life, quick heart, live brain, as he had not known for years.
He had not eaten food since goodness knows when, and yet he felt no hunger, while all the craving for alcohol was gone. He would never know hunger again, or any thirst.
Where were the Blackfoot camp, the wagon fort, the cross, Storm crucified, Rain dying?
There came a little bunch of antelope, grazing, who presently stood at gaze with all their natural curiosity, none of their quick fear. He reached for his gun. It was gone. The antelope went on grazing, not frightened even when he jumped to his feet shouting from sheer astonishment.