Part 31 (2/2)

Lone Wolf and Pine Tree were willing enough, and d.i.c.k suspected that they would join the dance later. After Albert had gone in, he stood a moment at the door of the lodge and looked again upon this, the wildest and most extraordinary scene that he had yet beheld. It was late in the night and the center of the sun dance was some distance from the lodge, but the shrill wailing of the whistle still reached him and the heavy tread of the dancers came in monotonous rhythm. ”It's the greatest of all nightmares,” he said to himself.

It was a long time before either d.i.c.k or Albert could sleep, and when d.i.c.k awoke at some vague hour between midnight and morning he was troubled by a shrill, wailing note that the drum of his ear. Then he remembered. The whistle! And after it came the rhythmic, monotonous beat of many feet, as steady and persistent as ever. The sun dance had never ceased for a moment, and he fell asleep again with the sounds of it still in his ear.

The dance, which was begun at the ripening of the wild sage, continued three days and nights without the stop of an instant.

No food and no drink pa.s.sed the lips of the neophytes, who danced throughout that time--if they fell they rose to dance again.

Then at the appointed hour it all ceased, although every warrior's brain was at white heat and he was ready to go forth at once against a myriad enemies. It was as if everyone had drunk of some powerful and exciting Eastern drug.

The dance ended, they began to eat, and neither d.i.c.k nor Albert had ever before seen such eating. The cooking fires of the squaws rose throughout the entire five miles of the village.

They had buffalo, deer, bear, antelope, and smaller game in abundance, and the warriors ate until they fell upon the ground, where the lay in a long stupor. The boys thought that many of them would surely die, but they came from their stupor unharmed and were ready for instant battle. There were many new warriors, too, because none had failed at the test, and all were eager to show their valor.

”It's like baiting a wild beast,” said d.i.c.k. ”There are five thousand ravening savages here, ready to fight anything, and to-night I'm going to try to escape.”

”If you try, I try, too,” said Albert.

”Of course,” said d.i.c.k.

The village was resting from its emotional orgy, and the guard upon the two boys was relaxed somewhat. In fact, it seemed wholly unnecessary, as they were rimmed around by the vigilance of many thousand eyes. But, spurred by the cruel need, d.i.c.k resolved that they should try. Fortunately, the very next night was quite dark, and only a single Indian, Pine Tree, was on guard.

”It's to-night or never,” whispered d.i.c.k to Albert within the shelter of the lodge. ”They've never taken the trouble to bind us, and that gives us at least a fighting chance.”

”When shall we slip out?”

”Not before about three in the morning. That is the most nearly silent hour, and if the heathenish curs let us alone we may get away.”

Fortune seemed to favor the two. The moon did not come out, and the promise of a dark night was fulfilled. An unusual stillness was over the village. It seemed that everybody slept.

d.i.c.k and Albert waited through long, long hours. d.i.c.k had nothing by which to reckon time, but he believed that he could calculate fairly well by guess, and once, when he thought it was fully midnight, he peeped out at the door of the lodge. Pine Tree was there, leasing against a sapling, but his att.i.tude showed laziness and a lack of vigilance. It might be that, feeling little need of watching, he slept on his feet. d.i.c.k devoutly hoped so. He waited at least two hours longer, and again peeped out. The att.i.tude of Pine Tree had not changed.

It must certainly be sleep that held him, and d.i.c.k and Albert prepared to go forth. They had no arms, and could trust only to silence and speed.

d.i.c.k was the first outside, and stood in the shadow of the lodge until Albert joined him. There they paused to choose a way among the lodges and to make a further inspection of sleeping Pine Tree.

The quiet of the village was not broken. The lodges stretched away in dusky rows and then were lost in darkness. This promised well, and their eyes came back to Pine Tree, who was still sleeping. Then d.i.c.k became conscious of a beam of light, or rather two beams. These beams shot straight from the open eyes of Pine Tree, who was not asleep at all. The next instant Pine Tree opened his mouth, uttered a yell that was amazingly loud and piercing, and leaped straight for the two boys.

As neither d.i.c.k nor Albert had arms, they could do nothing but run, and they fled between the lodges at great speed, Pine Tree hot upon their heels. It amazed d.i.c.k to find that the whole population of a big town could awake so quickly. Warriors, squaws, and children swarmed from the lodges and fell upon him and Albert in a ma.s.s. He could only see in the darkness that Albert had been seized and dragged away, but he knew that two uncommonly strong old squaws had him by the hair, three half-grown boys were clinging to his legs, and a powerful warrior laid hold of his right shoulder. He deemed it wisest in such a position to yield as quickly and gracefully as he could, in the hope that the two wiry old women would be detached speedily from his hair. This object was achieved as soon as the Sioux saw that he did not resist, and the vigilant Pine Tree stood before him, watching with an expression that d.i.c.k feared could be called a grin.

”The honors are yours,” said d.i.c.k as politely as he could, ”but tell me what has become of my brother.”

”He is being taken to the other side of the river,” said the voice of Bright Sun over Pine Tree's shoulder, ”and he and you will be kept apart until we decide what to do with you. It was foolish in you to attempt to escape. I had warned you.”

”I admit it,” said d.i.c.k, ”but you in my place would have done the same. Once can only try.”

He tried to speak with philosophy, but he was sorely troubled over being separated from his brother. Their comrades.h.i.+p in captivity had been a support to each other.

There was no sympathy in the voice of Bright Sun. He spoke coldly, sternly, like a great war chief. d.i.c.k understood, and was too proud to make any appeal. Bright Sun said a few words to the warriors, and walked away.

d.i.c.k was taken to another and larger lodge, in which several warriors slept. There, after his arms were securely bound, he was allowed to lie down on a rush mat, with warriors on rush mats on either side of him. d.i.c.k was not certain whether the warriors slept, but he knew that he did not close his eyes again that night.

Although strong and courageous, d.i.c.k Howard suffered much mental torture. Bright Sun was a Sioux, wholly an Indian (he had seen that at the sun dance), and if Albert and he were no longer of any possible use as hostages, Bright Sun would not trouble himself to protect them. He deeply regretted their wild attempt at escape, which he had felt from the first was almost hopeless. Yet he believed, on second thought, that they had been justified in making the trial. The great sun dance, the immense gathering of warriors keyed for battle, showed the imminent need for warning to the white commanders, who would not dream that the Sioux were in such mighty force. Between this anxiety and that other one for Albert, thinking little of himself meanwhile, d.i.c.k writhed in his bonds. But he could do nothing else.

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