Deerfoot in the Mountains by Edward Sylvester Ellis (books to read in your 30s TXT) 📕

move, either shooting rapids in a river, riding our horses or tramping on foot, but it is mighty dull to sit still and do nothing, and we mustn't think of any such thing."
"But what shall we do?"
"What shall we do? Lots of things. We can hunt and fish, play games with the youngsters, learn to tramp on snowshoes when winter is fairly here, and, if Taggarak goes off on any raids, we ought to be able to make a full man apiece."
George looked into the face of his brother to see if he was in earnest.
"Do you mean that, Victor?"
"I certainly do. Why not?"
"It is well enough to fight when you have to, but Deerfoot will never let you do anything of that kind, nor would I agree to it. It would be trying to kill other people just for the fun of doing so, and _that_ is contrary to what the Shawanoe has taught us."
"I suppose we shall have to get on as best we can with the other amusements, but I tremble when I think of the weather that will be here in a few weeks."
George looked around at the brown shaggy walls of buffalo fur. He grasped some of the long soft hairs in his palm and stroked the cool mass.
"We need never run short of fuel, and when the fire is going and the door shut I don't see why we shall not be as warm as in our own home at Woodvale. But what shall we _do_? _That's_ the question. It will be tiresome beyond bearing to lie here stretched hour after hour during the day."
"Plague take it!" impatiently exclaimed Victor; "who is going to do anything of the kind? I should like to see Deerfoot let you sleep and lounge your days away. He will share the lodge with us, and you may be sure he'll keep things moving. There isn't any weather cold enough nor snow deep enough to hold him within doors, and he'll hustle you out with him. So let's hear no more of that. Then you mustn't forget, George, that we shall make lots of acquaintances among these people. We have learned to speak a good many words of Blackfoot, and shall learn more; we shall take a liking to some of these folks, and, if we have any kind of tact, shall make them like us. Most of them have never before looked upon a white person, but they will soon get over their wonder, and we shall all stand on the same level."
"Well, Victor, you have done a good deal to cheer me up. I guess it was the homesickness, after all, that made me blue. See here, these two fellows that put up this house for us have been such good friends that we must be able to call them by name."
"Mul-tal-la has repeated them several times to us."
"Now, will you repeat either of the names to me?"
"I couldn't do it to save my life. They are so long and outlandish that I can never get my, tongue around them."
"Let's give them shorter names."
"Well, suppose you name the taller one, who has such a crooked nose."
George reflected a moment and replied;
"I'll call him 'Spink;' that is short and easily remembered. I don't think he will be offended, for he seems to be good-natured."
"We can fancy that it may mean in some language, 'He that looks Sweeter than Honey,' and he will be delighted when we manage to make it clear with the help of Mul-tal-la. I have the other fellow named."
"What is it?"
"Jiggers, or, The Warrior that showed Chief Taggarak all He Knows. _That_ ought to make him proud and happy."
So the two Blackfeet who had befriended the brothers received their names, and will be hereafter thus known when we refer to them, instead of using the difficult titles by which they were called by those of their own race.
From his seat opposite the door that was closed Victor had noticed a peculiar agitation now and then of the buffalo flap. Once, when the corner was drawn a little aside, he caught the sparkle of a bright eye, which was instantly withdrawn, as if the owner had noticed that his peeping was observed and he was scared. By and by the eye appeared again, and remained longer than before.
Victor smiled and crooked his finger at the peeping Tom. A moment later the flap was pulled aside, so as to display the head of an urchin some ten or twelve years old. Victor had whispered an explanation to his brother, and both looked at the boy, who had mustered up enough courage to step inside the tepee and then paused, as if afraid to come forward.
This young Blackfoot had the broadest, chubbiest face the boys had ever seen, and the grin on it seemed to touch each ear. He was short, stocky, and the picture of good nature. He wore no cap, and his thick black hair was cut so that it hung no lower than his chin on each side. He wore a hunting shirt, leggings and moccasins that were not very tidy, and he carried nothing in the nature of a weapon about him.
Victor and George could not restrain a laugh at the chap's appearance. The former continued to beckon to him, and said:
"Come here, Smiler, and shake hands with your friend."
He still hesitated, and, rising to his feet, Victor walked toward him, speaking so soothingly that the visitor kept his place, though apparently ready to duck his head and dash outdoors. He knew nothing about the ceremony of shaking hands, but he allowed Victor to take his palm in his own, and to lead him back to a seat on the furs between the brothers. A few minutes sufficed to make him feel at ease.
George and Victor called all their knowledge of Blackfoot into use, but they could not think of a word that was intelligible to the youngster, nor could they induce him to speak. He held his forefinger between his lips, shook his head now and then, and glanced slyly from one boy to the other, evidently well pleased but still embarrassed and a little distrustful.
Victor suddenly crossed over to where most of the contents of the pack carried by Zigzag had been laid out. Among these were several gaudy trinkets brought all the way from Woodvale and carefully reserved for special use. From the lot he took a string of bright crimson, blue and green beads, strung upon a linen thread, the loop being long enough to slip over the black crown and leave the lower part resting in all its dazzling beauty on the breast of the lad.
You cannot imagine the wonder and delight of the dusky urchin. For a few seconds he seemed too overcome to speak, and hardly breathed. He looked down at the glittering string, then drew his forefinger from between his lips and gingerly caressed the prize. Growing bolder, he raised the loop to his mouth as if to taste it. Pressing one of the beads with his even white teeth, the tiny glass snapped into fragments, some of which flew several feet away. The youngster was startled and glanced up at Victor, as if expecting a reproof.
The lad pleasantly shook his head to signify that the present did not form a staple article of food, and then the urchin slipped off the pile of furs and stood upon his sturdy legs. Looking gratefully up at the paleface he lifted the string over his head and handed the beads back to Victor. The latter took them from his hand and immediately slipped them about his neck again, thus showing that they belonged to the caller. Then the little one broke into grateful laughter, ran to the door, thrust aside the flap, and was gone.
"You couldn't have hit upon a better name than 'Smiler,'" said George Shelton, much amused by the peculiar visit they had received.
"Did you ever see one with so broad a grin? My only fear is that the other chaps will be jealous of him and expect us to give them presents, too. We haven't enough to go a tenth of the way round; but I couldn't refuse that codger."
The caller had not been gone two minutes when Mul-tal-la came in, bringing with him some buffalo meat that he had procured from a neighbor. It was uncooked, which was a small matter to the brothers, who were glad to see him, for he was the one person in the village with whom they could converse freely. Carefully placing the meat on several sticks, so as to protect it from dirt, he sat down to chat a few minutes with his young friends.
He told them of his visit to his father and mother, whose hearts were made as glad as his own, after their long separation; of his call on the father and mother of the companion whose body lay at rest many hundreds of miles away in the East, and of the comforting assurance that was now his that nothing was to be feared from the resentment of Chief Taggarak. Spink and Jiggers had received within the preceding ten days the assurance from the sachem himself, so that all uneasiness was gone from the heart of Mul-tal-la. But, had not the counsel of the two messengers been followed, nothing would have restrained Taggarak from taking the life of the one that had failed to bring back his comrade.
Victor told of the visit just received from the urchin, and of the present made to him, much to the lad's delight.
"We christened him 'Smiler,'" said Victor, "for I never saw such a grin on the face of man or boy."
"We could not help giving him the beads, but fear it will make trouble, for all the other boys in the village will want something, and we haven't supply for half a dozen."
"It might have been as my brothers say," replied Mul-tal-la, "if the boy had been the son of one of the ordinary warriors like myself, but he is not."
"Has he a distinguished father?" asked the wondering George.
"He is the son of Taggarak, our great war chief."
"I never dreamed of that," exclaimed the pleased Victor. "It surely could not have happened better. How is it that he was braver than the other boys and came into the lodge when all the others kept at a distance?"
"That," said the Blackfoot significantly, "is because he is the son of Taggarak and _knows it_. He can do nothing that can bring him punishment, unless it comes from his father, and he does not punish him unless he acts as if he is afraid of something."
"How many children has Taggarak?"
"Only two--the one whom you saw, who bears the same name as his father, and another boy about half as old, who is Ap-pa-pa-alk. He promises to grow up like his father and to become one of the greatest warriors among all the Blackfeet."
"When the chief learns that Taggarak Junior and we have become friends, and he sees the beads around the neck of his boy, will he not be pleased and feel kindly toward us, who gave him the little present?"
Mul-tal-la was thoughtful for a minute before replying.
"The war chief is a man of strange moods. It may make no difference in his feelings toward my brothers, but Mul-tal-la does not think he will _hate_ them for what they have done."


CHAPTER XIII.
SUMMONED TO COURT.
At the end of a week George and Victor Shelton had become full-fledged Blackfoot citizens. Several causes united to bring about this pleasant state of affairs. In the first place, the boys used tact