The Prairie-Bird

by Sir Charles Augustus Murray

This resolve imparted again to his manner its usual fierce and haughty grandeur; and, although the Crows loved him not, they could not help looking with a certain awe upon the man who, amid the confusion and panic of the late disastrous attack upon the Delaware camp, had borne away from the victorious enemy the bloody trophy which now hung at his belt, and who, although he had lost by a single blow his lodges, his supplies, and the Great Medicine of the tent, preserved unsubdued the commanding pride of his demeanour.

The success of the stratagem which he now meditated will appear in due season; meanwhile, we must return to the camp of War–Eagle, who began his march at dawn of day, with the view of rejoining Reginald and his band with the least possible delay.

Although he did not anticipate any attempt at reprisals on the part of the Crows, to whom he had just given so severe a lesson, yet he was aware of Mahéga’s having escaped, and well knew that he would leave untried no schemes for obtaining revenge.

On this account the Delaware chief went forward to the front, taking with him several of his warriors, whom he sent out from time to time to examine the ground, and leaving Attō with Ethelston and Paul Müller to bring up the rear. The latter could not be prevailed upon to abandon the wounded Crow, whom he had placed upon his own horse, which he led by the bridle, while Ethelston supported the sufferer in the saddle.

Ever since the occasion when Reginald Brandon had presented to Attō the bear–claw collar as a testimony to his bravery, the Delaware had attached himself more and more to the white men; and although, with the instinctive sagacity of his race, he foresaw that the best exertions of the two now in his company would fail to effect a cure of the wounded man, he willingly and good–humouredly assisted their charitable endeavours.

In this order they had marched for some hours, and the leaders of the band having attained the summit of a ridge, already saw at no great distance the two remarkable hills before mentioned as the favourite encampment of the Crows. Encouraged by the sight, they descended the opposite slope with increased speed, War–Eagle being most anxious to learn the success of Reginald’s detachment. The whole band had passed over the summit of the ridge, excepting the small party who escorted the wounded Crow, when the latter grew so faint from the effects of internal bleeding that they were no longer able to keep him in the saddle, and deposited him gently on the grass. The poor fellow pointed to his parched lips, and made an imploring sign for water. Paul Müller, casting his eyes around, saw at a small distance a broken ravine or fissure, in which he hoped that some rain–water might be found, and he desired Attō to hasten thither with all speed.

The Delaware obeyed, and had approached within a few paces of its edge, when an arrow from an unseen enemy pierced him through the breast; and Mahéga, leaping from his concealment, killed the brave fellow with his club, and attached another Lenapé scalp to his belt. He was followed by eight or ten well–armed Crow warriors, who, passing him while he stooped over his fallen enemy, hastened forward and surrounded Paul Müller, Ethelston, and the wounded man. Great was their astonishment at recognising in the latter a highly esteemed brave of their own tribe, and greater still at observing that the two white men were so busily engaged in tending and supporting him in his sufferings, as not to have noticed their approach.

When Ethelston became aware of their presence, his first impulse was to lay his hand upon a pistol in his belt; but, with the steady self–possession of true courage, he saw at a glance that he should, by unavailing resistance, only cause the certain death of himself and his peaceable companion; so he continued his attentions to the wounded man, and poured into his mouth the last few drops of a cordial which he had reserved in a leathern flask.

Fresh from the slaughter of the unfortunate Attō, Mahéga now came forward, and would have sacrificed the unresisting missionary to his blind fury, had not one of the Crow warriors caught his arm, and pointed in an attitude of remonstrance to his wounded comrade.

The Osage perceived at once that the time was not propitious for his indiscriminate revenge, and contented himself with explaining by signs to his allies that ere long the party now out of sight behind the hill would reappear over its crest in search of their missing companions.