Chapter 19

KIDDIE'S ANSWER

It was late in the evening when the surviving Crows arrived in their village. Rejoicings over their victory were mingled with lamentations over the death of their chief--ceremonies in which neither Kiddie nor Rube took any personal interest.

They were both lying very weary and silent on a pile of soft buffalo robes within their teepee, when Simon Sprott entered, accompanied by several of the warriors and counsellors.

"We've been having a big talk," began Simon Sprott. "We've lost our chief, and the Crows have elected a successor. Their choice of Little Cayuse was quickly made." He saluted Kiddie. "And we're hoping you won't refuse."

Kiddie looked puzzled. He glanced round at Rube.

"Well?" said Rube. "Chief of the Crow nation. That's what they're offerin' you. Why don't you answer?"

Kiddie stood irresolute.

"Why don't you answer?" Rube repeated, impressed by the importance of the occasion. He was very much interested in the deputation of Indians waiting so patiently for Kiddie's decision.

Kiddie still looked puzzled, as if he had difficulty in making up his mind concerning the offer that had been made to him to become the head chief and lawman of the Crow nation.

"There's no need for you to hurry, Little Cayuse," said Simon Sprott. "Take your own time to consider the proposition. Think about it deeply, all round, from all sides. The Crows will wait. They will leave you alone with your own thoughts. They do not ask for your answer right now. They would wish you to sleep upon it. When the sun has risen over Washakee Peak they will come again into the wigwam of Little Cayuse. He will then give them his answer. If it is Yes, they will rejoice; all the Crow nation will be glad. If it is No, their hearts will be heavy. For Little Cayuse alone is the leader they would follow and obey. I have spoken. What I have said is said by all the Crows."

He turned to his companion medicine men and warriors, and told them what he had said. Then he took from one of them a magnificent war bonnet of white eagles' plumes, and from another a robe of soft doeskin adorned with beautiful designs in coloured beads and porcupine quills and needlework in brilliant silk. From a third he took a chief's staff of office, and from a fourth a pair of richly-decorated moccasins. All these he spread with great ceremony at Kiddie's feet, evidently expecting him to wear them when next he should appear in public.

Kiddie bowed to them as the counsellors filed slowly out of the lodge. When they had closed the door-flap behind them he turned round to Rube Carter.

"Feelin' better now, Rube?" he asked. "I'll dress that cut on your cheek again, 'fore you go to sleep. Dunno about your hip. Is it painin' you?"

"Some," Rube answered. "But don't you worry. I ain't thinkin' about my wounds. I'm thinkin' about you. What's the matter with that head-dress? Ain't you goin' ter put it on, and lemme see how you look in it? What about a dress rehearsal?"

Kiddie shook his head.

"Gee!" exclaimed Rube. "Ain't you figurin' ter take it on, then--this boss chieftainship that they've offered you?"

"Not I," said Kiddie, very decisively.

"Made up your mind against it?"

"Yes. I'd made up my mind before Short Nose began to speak. I'd guessed what was coming."

"Um!" murmured Rube. "Dunno whether t' be glad or sorry. Why didn't you tell 'em, Kiddie?"

"Because they wouldn't have liked it if I'd said No right at once. Much better to let them suppose that I'm hesitatin', wonderin' over it, weighin' the proposition in a balance. Why, Rube, you didn't think for a moment that I would take it on, did you?"

Rube shrugged his shoulders.

"You might have done what Broken Feather's tryin' to do," said Rube. "You might have made yourself as great a chief as Red Cloud or Sitting Bull. Besides, it's a biggish thing ter be a Injun chief. Next door t' bein' a king."

Kiddie smiled.

"I might have been an Injun chief years an' years ago," he remarked. "But my ambitions don't lie in that direction. See?"

"Of course," Rube nodded. "I was forgettin' that you're a English nobleman, with a seat in the House of Lords. I'm allus forgettin' that. But what d'you mean t' do, Kiddie--now, I mean? Ain't you goin' ter stop here just for a week or two, an' see what it feels like t' be a Injun chief?"

"No." Kiddie turned to his blankets. He was very tired. "No," he repeated. "I'm goin' to stay until you're well enough to be moved. Then we shall find the canoe and our outfit, and go right back home to Sweetwater Bridge."

"Trip comin' to an abrupt conclusion, eh?" queried Rube.

"That's about the size of it," nodded Kiddie. "The fine weather won't hold out much longer, and I guess there's a whole heap of letters waitin' for me to answer 'em."

"Well, anyhow, we've seen an' done a good deal, an' had a few adventures," Rube concluded, holding himself so that Kiddie might apply a fresh pad of lint and a new bandage to his wounded cheek.

Kiddie left the head-dress and other garments where Simon Sprott had placed them. But in the early morning Rube Carter awoke to see him wearing the doeskin robe and moccasins, and in the act of covering his head with the great war bonnet.

"What, changed your mind?" cried Rube. "Goin' ter be a chief after all?"

Kiddie did not answer. He had got the two long feathered streamers of the head-dress twisted behind his back, and was trying to disentangle without injuring them.

"Get dressed and go outside to watch the ceremony," he ordered. "There's a couch of buffalo robes near the door, and you won't need to limp very far."

When Rube went out, he found the open space in front of the principal lodges crowded with warriors and braves. They were all on foot, but half a dozen of them held as many chosen war horses, which were to be presented to the new chief. The war-chiefs and medicine men were seated by the totem pole in a half-circle, facing the crowd.

Suddenly they rose to their feet, and bowed as Kiddie strode forth from his lodge, looking extremely tall and dignified and handsome in his picturesque Indian dress.

Murmurs of admiration ran through the throng of waiting braves. Drums were beaten and minstrels gang a weird, crooning chant as he advanced.

Rube's gaze was fastened upon Kiddie. He would not have understood, even if he had listened to what Simon Sprott said to the Crows. He supposed that it was merely a public declaration of the election of Little Cayuse as successor to Falling Water. For at the close of Simon's speech there was a prolonged hubbub of acclamation.

Kiddie then strode forward, with his left hand clasping the staff of office, the morning sunlight shining on his face and on the pure white plumes of his magnificent head-dress. He spoke to the Crows in their own tongue, in a clear, loud voice.

"Warriors, braves," he said, "Little Cayuse is proud that the Crows have asked him to be their war chief. The Crows are a mighty nation, rich in horses and in buffalo robes. They love peace, but they do not fear war. It is a great thing to be their chief, to make their laws, to lead them in battle. Little Cayuse is glad that they think him worthy to take the place of Falling Water. He has searched his heart for his answer. His thoughts have been long; but he has reached the end of them. They have been deep; but he has seen through them as through clear water. He has decided. His medicine has told him that it is not for Little Cayuse to be the chief of the Crow nation. He is not a Crow Indian. He is not of their blood. His medicine is not their medicine, or his totem their totem. He is a stranger among them. As a stranger he came. As a stranger he will go away. I have spoken."

Then slowly he removed his war bonnet, put aside his staff, and began to untie the thongs of his doeskin shirt.

"Ah!" cried Simon Sprott, stepping forward, and speaking in English. "I guessed it would be that way. But hold hard. Don't take off your robes. They're yours, and you're still a chief. There's no going back on it. You've been elected. Naturally you don't feel like living the rest of your days amongst a tribe of Redskins. I don't wonder at it. There's a way out, however. The Crows are disappointed. Their hearts 'll be heavy for many a long day. But they'll understand. And if you don't see your way to doing what they want, you'll at least consent to being what you might call an honorary chief. Eh? How'll that suit?"

Kiddie willingly agreed to this arrangement, and accordingly he again wore the feathered head-dress and duly acted his part in the ceremonies connected with his initiation.