CHAPTER XVI.
MAHÉGA FINDS THE BODIES OF HIS TWO FOLLOWERS SLAIN BY WAR–EAGLE.—SOME REFLECTIONS ON THE INDIAN CHARACTER.—WAR–EAGLE RETURNS TO HIS FRIENDS, AND THE OSAGE CHIEF PUSHES HIS WAY FURTHER INTO THE MOUNTAINS.
Mahéga waited anxiously the return of the two men whom he had sent with Wingenund, being desirous to learn whether they had faithfully executed the treacherous commission with which he had entrusted them. When he found that the evening passed away, and that the successive hours of the night brought no intelligence of them, he became alarmed lest they should have fallen in with some hostile band of Indians; an occurrence which, in addition to the loss of two of his warriors, would threaten imminent danger to his whole party.
At the earliest peep of dawn he set out in search of them, accompanied by three of his followers, giving orders to the remainder to observe a strict watch during his absence. Traversing the little valley in front of his camp with hasty strides, he struck into the eastward trail, and followed it with unabated speed until he reached the spot where the deadly struggle of the preceding evening had arisen. Here the indications were too evident to leave a moment’s doubt upon his mind; the grass on and beside the trail was stained with blood, and from the neighbouring thicket were heard the snarls and yells of a pack of wolves quarrelling over their horrible banquet; while high in air several buzzards were wheeling round and round, as if endeavouring to find courage to descend and dispute the prey with the quadruped spoilers.
Dashing into the thicket, and driving the snarling wolves before him, Mahéga found his worst fears realised, and his horror–struck warriors stood in silence beside the mangled remains of their comrades. The conduct of Indians under such circumstances is uncertain and various as their mood, their impulse, their tribe, and their age. Sometimes they indulge in fearful threats of vengeance; sometimes in the most woeful howlings and lamentations; at others they observe a silence as still as the death which they are contemplating.
The Osages, on this occasion, following the example of their leader, spoke not a word, although the sight before them (far too horrible for description) was sufficient to try the strongest nerves; it was chiefly by the immoveable firmness of his character that Mahéga had gained and maintained the despotic influence which he exercised over his followers; neither did it fail him on this occasion, for he proceeded to examine the mutilated remains of his deceased warriors with his usual coolness and sagacity, in order that he might discover by whom the deed had been perpetrated; on a close inspection of the skulls, he found that both had been fractured by a tomahawk blow, which had fallen in a direction almost vertical, but rather at a posterior angle of inclination, whence he immediately inferred that they had been killed by some enemy who had surprised and attacked them from behind, and not in an open fight: after a long and careful observation of the fractures, he was of opinion that they were made by the same weapon. This inference, however, he kept to himself; and directing two of his followers to pay such offices to the dead as were possible under the circumstances, and then to return to the camp, he went forward with the remaining Osage, to satisfy himself as to the manner in which the calamity had occurred: he remembered to have seen Wingenund starting on the trail, and, although he knew him to be bold and active, he could not for an instant entertain the belief that a stripling, wearied with a sleepless night, stiff from being so many hours bound with thongs, and totally unprovided with arms, could have killed his two guards, who were strong, wary, and well–armed men!
For some distance Mahéga continued his course in moody silence, the beaten trail affording no indication sufficient to guide him in his conjecture, but at length he reached a place where it crossed a small rivulet, the flat banks of which were sprinkled with a kind of gravelly sand: here he paused and examined every inch of the ground with the eye of a lynx; nor was it long before he detected the foot–prints which he sought, a smaller and a greater, the latter showing longer intervals, and a deeper impression.
Rising from his stooping scrutiny, the eyes of the chief glared with fury, as he turned to his follower, and, in a voice almost inarticulate with rage, groaned the hated name of War–Eagle.
“It is,” he continued vehemently, “plain as the moon in the sky, the trail of the cursed Lenapé and the light foot of his brother; see here, War–Eagle has walked through the water, and Wingenund has sprung over it; the dew has fallen since they passed, they are far before us; but Mahéga must not sleep till their scalps are in his belt. Is Toweno ready?” inquired the fierce chief, tightening his girdle while he loosened the tomahawk suspended from it.
“Toweno is ready,” replied the Indian, “to fight or run by the side of Mahéga from morning until night; his hand is not weak, nor are his feet slow, but the great chief must not let the angry spirit bring a cloud before his eyes.”