[CHAPTER XVIII]
MAUCHACHO WINS THE RACE
“Come, folks, hurry, hurry! I can hear the Indians’ drums already!” cried Bess, as she ran through the hall and downstairs.
Several guests who had come from Kalispell the day before to see the Indian celebration were with Mrs. West in the living-room.
James Fletcher and Henry West, together with the other gentlemen of the party, were waiting at the gate with several extra saddle horses. Mrs. West expected to drive and call for Mrs. White on the way through Polson. The site selected for the various races and Indian dances was on a level stretch of county South and East from Polson. As the merry party mounted their horses and started they soon came in sight of the large crowd which had already congregated. The incessant muffled sound of the tom-toms or the loud cry of an Indian, came to their ears as they urged the horses so that they might not miss any of the performances.
The first sight which attracted them was a number of squaws and bucks who were seated on either side of a log rapping upon it with sticks. The squaws sang in weird monotones in time with their sounding sticks; and occasionally a buck joined them for a few notes as if to give the song a greater impetus. With a swift motion and a sharp cry one of the bucks pointed with his stick at another Indian who sat opposite him only further down the line. Instantly the music (if indeed it could be called music) ceased, and each one in this gambling game looked expectantly to see if the Indian designated held in his hand the piece of bone which had been passed deftly, and with no little sleight of hand, from one to another. A look of sheer disappointment came into his face, however, and he placed a forfeit with the opposing side. Again the song and drumming were resumed more vigorously than before, the result this time was that one of the bucks arose, removed his blanket and stalked away, amid calls and words of derision and laughter from the others.
West suggested that the party move on and seek some shady place where they might rest and view the dances. They had not long to wait, for presently they saw marching towards them a long file of brilliantly dressed Indians, squaws, papooses and larger children. The squaws were gorgeous in flaming reds and yellows, in purple velvet or red satin, in greens and even one in pink, with floating ribbons and flashing beads and ornaments. They sang in high, shrill tones to the accompaniment of the tom-tom, which was carried by four stalwart bucks beating vigorously and marching ahead.
The Indians in the procession now began forming a circle with the squaws and the drummers in the center where they squatted upon the ground. Now the tom-toms assumed a different tempo, the nasal, piercing singing of the squaws began anew, and simultaneously, at a certain note in the music, all the Indians began the dance. To some, it looked like a confused mass of bending, jumping, moving beings, each of whom seemed bent upon going through the greatest contortions. But when one observed closely it was seen that at a certain beat of the drum the heels came to the ground, then the toes or the whole foot. Their bodies moved forward and backward in graceful savagery. See their gorgeous blankets sway! How the festoons of feathers and fixings wave with each movement of their supple bodies; watch the interested expression on the faces! See that tall, slender buck with a whirl of eagle feathers hanging down his back; hear the bells about his ankles as they jingle in perfect rhythm to the song and drum! Now he has bent forward till the feathers in his hair sweep the dust! Backward he sways and his knees fairly touch his face! See his eyes gleam, how eager is his whole face! How his hands lift high the war implement with its decoration of eagle feathers!
But hark, the music ceases, and at one shrill note the dancers stop. Already each brow is dripping with beads of sweat. Now one Indian, straight, strong, lithe of limb, steps alone upon the trodden circle. The sun makes his almost nude body gleam like burnished copper and dazzles the beads upon his belt and bracelets. A large war bonnet of weasel skins and eagle feathers, with two curved buffalo horns, covers his head and falls down his back till it nearly touches the ground. Bells tinkle upon his moccasins and at his wrists. As he steps out from among the others, cries of approval are heard upon all sides, and Bess knows that he must be some extraordinary Indian. Turning to West she asked who the Indian was, who was about to dance, and what the dance was to be.
“He is Two Feathers, and is noted for his wonderful dancing. This is to be the snake dance, I think,” replied Henry West, as he moved Mauchacho to a better position for the benefit of Bess. Glancing about to see that his guests also had a good view, he rode Eagle over to the carriage where his mother and several other ladies were seated. Assuring himself that they were comfortable and could see the sport, he started to return to Bess’ side when he saw to his chagrin that Mr. Davis, the Indian Agent, had just assumed that position. The girl greeted Mr. Davis, and was introducing him to her companions, when she noticed West standing aloof from the others. In response to a gesture from her he came quickly to her side. “Please stay here, Henry; I want you to tell me about the dances.”
Reluctant though he was to be near Davis and to be compelled to speak with him, he did as she requested. Dismounting, he leaned an arm across the saddle, and only occasionally lifted his face to Bess’ in response to her questions during the dance.