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THE STORY OF RED FEATHER

A Tale of the American Frontier

by

EDWARD S. ELLIS

Illustrated







[Illustration]



McLoughlin Brothers, Inc.

Made in U. S. A.
McLoughlin Bros. Inc.
Springfield Mass.
Publishers
1828


[Illustration: "To-wika talked soothingly to him."--Page 118]




CONTENTS

    CHAPTER ONE
    Brother and Sister--The Signal                               3

    CHAPTER TWO
    An Important Letter--Shut in                                14

    CHAPTER THREE
    Caught Fast--A Friend in Need                               25

    CHAPTER FOUR
    The Consultation--On the Roof                               36

    CHAPTER FIVE
    A Strange Visit--Ominous Signs                              47

    CHAPTER SIX
    The Muddy Creek Band--The Torch                             58

    CHAPTER SEVEN
    "A Little Child Shall Lead Them"--Surrounded by Peril       69

    CHAPTER EIGHT
    Tall Bear and his Warriors--A Surprising Discovery          80

    CHAPTER NINE
    Nat Trumbull and his Men--Out in the Night                  91

    CHAPTER TEN
    An Old Friend--Separated                                   102

    CHAPTER ELEVEN
    At the Lower Crossing--Tall Bear's Last Failure            114

    CHAPTER TWELVE
    Conclusion                                                 127




THE STORY OF RED FEATHER

CHAPTER ONE

BROTHER AND SISTER--THE SIGNAL


It is within my memory that Melville Clarendon, a lad of sixteen years,
was riding through Southern Minnesota, in company with his sister
Dorothy, a sweet little miss not quite half his own age.

They were mounted on Saladin, a high-spirited, fleet, and good-tempered
pony of coal-black color. Melville, who claimed the steed as his own
special property, had given him his Arabian name because he fancied
there were many points of resemblance between him and the winged
coursers of the East, made famous as long ago as the time of the
Crusades.

The lad sat his horse like a skilled equestrian, and indeed it would be
hard to find his superior in that respect throughout that broad stretch
of sparsely settled country. Those who live on the American frontier are
trained from their earliest youth in the management of quadrupeds, and
often display a proficiency that cannot fail to excite admiration.

Melville's fine breech-loading rifle was slung over his shoulder, and
held in place by a strap that passed in front. It could be quickly drawn
from its position whenever needed. It was not of the repeating pattern,
but the youth was so handy with the weapon that he could put the
cartridges in place, aim, and fire not only with great accuracy, but
with marked rapidity.

In addition, he carried a good revolver, though he did not expect to use
either weapon on the short journey he was making. He followed, however,
the law of the border, which teaches the pioneer never to venture beyond
sight of his home unprepared for every emergency that is likely to
arise.

It was quite early in the forenoon, Melville having made an early start
from the border-town of Barwell, and he was well on his way to his home,
which lay ten miles to the south. "Dot," as his little sister was called
by her friends, had been on a week's visit to her uncle's at the
settlement, the agreement all round being that she should stay there for
a fortnight at least; but her parents and her big brother rebelled at
the end of the week. They missed the prattle and sunshine which only Dot
could bring into their home, and Melville's heart was delighted when his
father told him to mount Saladin and bring her home.

And when, on the seventh day of her visit, Dot found her handsome
brother had come after her, and was to take her home the following
morning, she leaped into his arms with a cry of happiness; for though
her relatives had never suspected it, she was dreadfully home-sick and
anxious to get back to her own people.

In riding northward to the settlement, young Clarendon followed the
regular trail, over which he had passed scores of times. Not far from
the house he crossed a broad stream at a point where the current (except
when there was rain) was less than two feet deep. Its shallowness led to
its use by all the settlers within a large radius to the southward, so
that the faintly marked trails converged at this point something like
the spokes of a large wheel, and became one from that point northward to
the settlement.

A mile to the east was another crossing which was formerly used. It was
not only broader, but there were one or two deep holes into which a
horse was likely to plunge unless much care was used. Several unpleasant
accidents of this nature led to its practical abandonment.

The ten miles between the home of the Clarendons and the little town of
Barwell consisted of prairie, stream, and woodland. A ride over the
trail, therefore, during pleasant weather afforded a most pleasing
variety of scenery, this being especially the case in spring and summer.
The eastern trail was more marked in this respect and it did not unite
with the other until within about two miles of the settlement. Southward
from the point of union the divergence was such that parties separating
were quickly lost to view of each other, remaining thus until the stream
of which I have spoken was crossed. There the country became so open
that on a clear day the vision covered all the space between.

I have been thus particular in explaining the "lay of the land," as it
is called, because it is necessary in order to understand the incidents
that follow.

Melville laughed at the prattle of Dot, who sat in front of him, one of
his arms encircling her chubby form, while Saladin was allowed to walk
and occasionally gallop, as the mood prompted him.

There was no end of her chatter; and he asked her questions about her
week's experience at Uncle Jack's, and told her in turn how much he and
her father and mother had missed her, and what jolly times they would
have when she got back.

Melville hesitated for a minute on reaching the diverging point of the
paths. He was anxious to get home; but his wish to give his loved sister
all the enjoyment possible in the ride led him to take the abandoned
trail, and it proved a most unfortunate thing that he did so.

Just here I must tell you that Melville and Dot Clarendon were dressed
very much as boys and girls of their age are dressed to-day in the more
settled parts of my native country. Remember that the incidents I have
set out to tell you took place only a very few years ago.

Instead of the <DW53>-skin cap, buckskin suit, leggings and moccasins, of
the early frontier, Melville wore a straw hat, a thick flannel shirt,
and, since the weather was quite warm, he was without coat or vest. His
trousers, of the ordinary pattern, were clasped at the waist by his
cartridge belt, and his shapely feet were encased in strong well-made
shoes. His revolver was thrust in his hip-pocket, and the broad collar
of his shirt was clasped at the neck by a twisted silk handkerchief.

As for Dot, her clustering curls rippled from under a jaunty straw hat,
and fluttered about her pretty shoulders, while the rest of her visible
attire consisted of a simple dress, shoes, and stockings. The extra
clothing taken with her on her visit was tied in a neat small bundle,
fastened to the saddle behind Melville. Should they encounter any sudden
change in the weather, they were within easy reach, while the lad looked
upon himself as strong enough to make useless any such care for him.

Once or twice Melville stopped Saladin and let Dot down to the ground,
that she might gather some of the bright flowers growing by the wayside;
and at a spring of bubbling icy-cold water both halted and quaffed their
fill, after which Saladin was allowed to push his nose into the clear
fluid and do the same.

Once more they mounted, and without any occurrence worth the telling,
reached the bank of the stream at the Upper Crossing. He halted a minute
or two to look around before entering the water, for, as you will bear
in mind, he had now reached a spot which gave him a more extended view
than any yet passed.

Their own home was in plain sight, and naturally the eyes of the brother
and sister were first turned in that direction. It appeared just as they
expected. Moderate in size, built of logs somewhat after the fashion on
the frontier at an earlier date, with outbuildings and abundant signs of
thrift, it was an excellent type of the home of the sturdy American
settler of the present.

"Oh, Mel!" suddenly exclaimed Dot, calling her brother by the name she
always used, "who is that on horseback?"

Dot pointed to a slight eminence between their house and the stream;
and, shifting his glance, Melville saw an Indian horseman standing as
motionless as if he and his animal were carved in stone. He seemed to
have reined up on the crest of the elevation, and, coming to a halt, was
doing the same as the brother and sister--surveying his surroundings.

His position was midway between Melville and his house, and his horse
faced the brother and sister. The distance was too great to distinguish
the features of the red man clearly, but the two believed he was looking
at them.

Now, there was nothing to cause special alarm in this sight, for it was
a common thing to meet Indians in that part of the country, where indeed
many of them may be seen to-day; but the lad suddenly remembered that
when looking in the direction of his home he had failed to see any signs
of life, and he was at once filled with a misgiving which caused him to
swallow a lump in his throat before answering the question--

"Who is it, Mel?"

"Some Indian; he is too far off for me to tell who he is, and likely
enough we have never seen him before."

"What's he looking at us so sharply for?"

"I'm not sure that he is looking at us; his face seems to be turned this
way, but he may have his eyes on something else."

"Watch him! See what he is doing!"

No need to tell the lad to watch, for his attention was fixed upon the
warrior. Just as Dot spoke he made a signal which the intelligent youth
could not comprehend. He flung one end of a blanket in the air slightly
above and in front of him, and, holding the other part in his hand,
waved it vigorously several times.

That it was intended for the eyes of the brother and sister seemed
beyond all question; but, as I have said, they did not know what it
meant, for it might have signified a number of things. It is a practice
with many Indians to use such means as a taunt to their enemies, but
they generally utter shouts and defiant cries, and nothing of the kind
was now heard.

Besides this, it was not to be supposed that a Sioux warrior (that, no
doubt, being the tribe of the red man before them) would indulge in any
such action in the presence of a single white youth and small girl.

"I don't understand it," said Melville, "but I'll be as polite as he."

With which, he took off his hat and swung it above his head. Then,
seeing that the Indian had ceased waving his blanket, he replaced his
hat, still watching his movements.

[Illustration: "The distance was too great to distinguish the features
of the red man."--Page 7]

The next moment the Sioux wheeled his horse, and heading westward,
galloped off with such speed that he almost instantly vanished.

The Indian had been gone less than a minute when Melville spoke to
Saladin, and he stepped into the water.

The instant his hoof rested on dry land the youth struck him into a
swift canter, which was not checked until he arrived at the house. While
yet some distance, the lad's fears were deepened by what he saw, or
rather by what he failed to see. Not a horse or cow was in sight; only
the ducks and chickens were there, the former waddling to the water.

When Archie Clarendon made his home on that spot, a few years before,
one of the questions he had to meet was as to the best way of guarding
against attacks from Indians, for there were plenty of them in that part
of the country. There are very few red men who will not steal; and they
are so fond of "firewater," or intoxicating drink, that they are likely
to commit worse crimes.

The pioneer, therefore, built his house much stronger than he would have
done had he waited several years before putting it up.

It was made of logs, strongly put together, and the windows were so
narrow that no person, unless very slim, could push his way through
them. Of course the door was heavy, and it could be fastened in its
place so firmly that it would have resisted the assault of a strong body
of men.

By this time Melville, who had galloped up to the front and brought his
horse to a halt, was almost sure that something dreadful had happened,
and he hesitated a moment before dismounting or lowering Dot to the
ground. She began twisting about in his grasp, saying plaintively--

"Let me down, Mel; I want to see papa and mamma."

"I don't think they are there," he said, again swallowing a lump in his
throat.

She turned her head around and looked wonderingly up in his face, not
knowing what he meant. He could not explain, and he allowed her to drop
lightly on her feet.

"Wait a minute," he called, "till I take a look inside."

In imagination he saw an awful sight. It was that of his beloved parents
slain by the cruel red men--one of whom had waved his blanket tauntingly
at him only a few minutes before.

He could not bear that Dot should look upon the scene that would haunt
her, as it would haunt him, to her dying day. He meant to hold her back
until he could take a look inside; but her nimble feet carried her
ahead, and she was on the porch before he could check her.

Saladin was a horse that would stand without tying; and, paying no heed
to him, the youth hurried after his sister, seizing her hand as it was
raised to draw the string hanging outside the door.

"Dot," he said, "why do you not obey me? You must wait till I first go
in."

It was not often her big brother spoke so sternly, and there came a tear
into each of the bright eyes, as she stepped back and poutingly waited
for him to do as he thought best.

Melville raised his hand to draw the latch, but his heart failed.
Stepping to one side, he peered through the narrow window that helped to
light up the lower floor.

The muslin curtain was partly drawn, but he was able to see most of the
interior. Table, chairs, and furniture were all in place, but not a
glimpse of a living person was visible.

[Illustration: "He peered through the narrow window."]

The emotions of childhood are as changeable as the shadows of the
flitting clouds.

Dot was pouting while Mel stood irresolute on the small porch, and was
sure she would never, never speak to the mean fellow again; but the
instant he peeped through the narrow window she forgot everything else,
and darted forward to take her place at his side, and find out what it
was that made him act so queerly.

Before she reached him she stopped short with the exclamation--

"Oh, Mel! here's a letter for you!"




CHAPTER TWO

AN IMPORTANT LETTER--SHUT IN


Astonished by the cry, young Clarendon turned his head and looked at his
sister, who landed at his side that moment like a fairy. She was holding
a sheet of paper in her hand. It was folded in the form of an envelope,
and pencilled on the outside in bold letters were the words--

    "Melville Clarendon.
        "In haste; read instantly."

He took the letter from his sister and trembled, as if from a chill, as
he hurriedly unfolded the paper and read--

    "MY DEAR MEL,--Leave at once! The Sioux have taken the war-path,
    and a party of their worst warriors from the Muddy Creek country
    have started out on a raid. They are sure to come this way, and
    I suppose the house will be burned, and everything on which they
    can lay hands destroyed. They are under the lead of the
    desperate Red Feather, and will spare nothing. A friendly Sioux
    stopped this morning before daylight and warned me. I gathered
    the animals together, and your mother and I set out for Barwell
    in all haste, driving the beasts before us.

    "I feel certain of either finding you and Dot at my brother's in
    the settlement or of meeting you on the way, for I suppose, of
    course, you will follow the regular trail; but, at the moment of
    starting, your mother suggests the possibility that you may take
    the upper route. To make sure, I write this letter. If the
    Indians reach the building before you, they will leave such
    traces of their presence that you will take the alarm. If you
    arrive first and see this note, re-mount Saladin, turn
    northward, and lose not a minute in galloping to the settlement.
    None of them can overtake you. Avoid the upper trail, where it
    is much easier for them to ambush you; keep as much on the open
    prairie as possible; see that your weapons are loaded; make
    Saladin do his best