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I shall hunt and go on the war-trail, and say strong words in the council. And when my life is ended, when the sunset and the night come to me and I go forth into the darkness, I know I shall find her I love waiting for me beside the death-trail that leads to the spirit-land." The tears came into Cecil's eyes. "I too have known sorrow," he said, "and like you I am a wanderer from my own people.
"They came up the old war-trail from Little Slave Lake to the mouth of the Smoky, where the Peace River Landing is now. They fought the Beavers and the Stoneys clear to the edges of the Rockies, where we are now. They've held the land ever since, and managed to make a living on it, with or without the white man's help.
The antelope was skinned, and eaten raw, in the blood! Our horses grow thin with hunger and thirst. We fear to go too often to the water, though we become less cautious as the hours pass. Two more antelopes are lassoed by the expert hunter. The night of the fourth day is clear moonlight. The Indians often march by moonlight, particularly when on the war-trail.
"Moise said that the old war-trail over from the Little Slave country used to end about here," ventured John. The factor smiled, and admitted that such was once said to have been the case. "Those days are gone, though, my young friend," said he. "There's a new invasion, which we think may unsettle our old ways as much as the invasion of the Crees did those of the Stoneys and Beavers long ago.
When close in, we found the path strewed with loose cut-rock, upon which the hoofs of our animals left no track. Over this we rode forward, heading to the north, and keeping in a line nearly parallel to the "war-trail." A march of twenty miles brought us to the place where we expected to be joined by the band.
They had not advanced far into the wood ere the whole train came to a sudden halt. Riding forward, Cecil found a band of horsemen awaiting them. They were Klickitats, mounted on good ponies; neither women nor pack-horses were with them; they were armed and painted, and their stern and menacing aspect was more like that of men who were on the war-trail than of men who were riding to a "peace-talk."
The face of the Sioux was not painted, though it is the fashion of his people to do so when upon the war-trail. It could not have looked more frightful had it been daubed with streaks and spots, and Dot was terrified. Springing to her feet, she recoiled with a gasp, and stared at the dreadful countenance. Red Feather beckoned as best he could for the little one to come nigh him.
A big price would have to be paid, no doubt; but Peewash was prepared to bid high, and the owner could not withstand a temptation, backed, as it was, by that bait irresistible to a Red Indian, "firewater." The boy again changed hands, and now for some time served his original captor. About this period the Tribes again "dug up the hatchet," and set out on a big war-trail.
We passed on our route clumps of cacti, and thickets of creosote bushes, that emitted their foul odours as we crushed through them. On the fourth evening we camped at a spring, the Ojo de Vaca, lying on the eastern borders of the Llanos. Over the western section of this great prairie passes the Apache war-trail, running southward into Sonora.
I suppose these were meant as refreshment for the victors, for as such they no doubt regarded us, as well as saviours of their tribe. I could quite imagine the Notu warriors bragging on their return of their own deeds of valour, although all the killing was done by the police. On the War-Trail Once More.
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