The Prairie Chief, by R.M.
Ballantyne
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Title: The Prairie Chief
Author: R.M. Ballantyne
Release Date: June 6, 2007 [EBook #21694]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE
PRAIRIE CHIEF ***
Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
THE PRAIRIE CHIEF, BY R.M. BALLANTYNE.
CHAPTER ONE.
THE ALARM.
Whitewing was a Red Indian of the North American prairies. Though
not a chief of the highest standing, he was a very great man in the
estimation of his tribe, for, besides being possessed of qualities which
are highly esteemed among all savages--such as courage, strength,
agility, and the like--he was a deep thinker, and held speculative views
in regard to the Great Manitou (God), as well as the ordinary affairs of
life, which perplexed even the oldest men of his tribe, and induced the
younger men to look on him as a profound mystery.
Indeed the feelings of the latter towards Whitewing amounted almost to
veneration, for while, on the one hand, he was noted as one of the most
fearless among the braves, and a daring assailant of that king of the
northern wilderness, the grizzly bear, he was, on the other hand, modest
and retiring--never boasted of his prowess, disbelieved in the principle
of revenge, which to most savages is not only a pleasure but a duty, and
refused to decorate his sleeves or leggings with the scalp-locks of his
enemies. Indeed he had been known to allow more than one enemy to
escape from his hand in time of war when he might easily have killed
him. Altogether, Whitewing was a monstrous puzzle to his fellows, and
much beloved by many of them.
The only ornament which he allowed himself was the white wing of a
ptarmigan. Hence his name. This symbol of purity was bound to his
forehead by a band of red cloth wrought with the quills of the
porcupine. It had been made for him by a dark-eyed girl whose name
was an Indian word signifying "light heart." But let it not be supposed
that Lightheart's head was like her heart. On the contrary, she had a
good sound brain, and, although much given to laughter, jest, and
raillery among her female friends, would listen with unflagging
patience, and profound solemnity, to her lover's soliloquies in reference
to things past, present, and to come.
One of the peculiarities of Whitewing was that he did not treat women
as mere slaves or inferior creatures. His own mother, a wrinkled, brown
old thing resembling a piece of singed shoe-leather, he loved with a
tenderness not usual in North American Indians, some tribes of whom
have a tendency to forsake their aged ones, and leave them to perish
rather than be burdened with them. Whitewing also thought that his
betrothed was fit to hold intellectual converse with him, in which idea
he was not far wrong.
At the time we introduce him to the reader he was on a visit to the
Indian camp of Lightheart's tribe in Clearvale, for the purpose of
claiming his bride. His own tribe, of which the celebrated old warrior
Bald Eagle was chief, dwelt in a valley at a considerable distance from
the camp referred to.
There were two other visitors at the Indian camp at that time. One was
a Wesleyan missionary who had penetrated to that remote region with a
longing desire to carry the glad tidings of salvation in Jesus to the red
men of the prairie. The other was a nondescript little white trapper, who
may be aptly described as a mass of contradictions. He was small in
stature, but amazingly strong; ugly, one-eyed, scarred in the face, and
misshapen; yet wonderfully attractive, because of a sweet smile, a
hearty manner, and a kindly disposition. With the courage of the lion,
Little Tim, as he was styled, combined the agility of the monkey and
the laziness of the sloth. Strange to say, Tim and Whitewing were
bosom friends, although they differed in opinion on most things.
"The white man speaks again about Manitou to-day," said the Indian,
referring to the missionary's intention to preach, as he and Little Tim
concluded their midday meal in the wigwam that had been allotted to
them.
"It's little I cares for that," replied Tim curtly, as he lighted the pipe
with which he always wound up every meal.
Of course both men spoke in the Indian language, but that being
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