The Prairie Chief | Page 4

The
object is good. It is my duty as well as my desire."
The thought gave an impulse to his feelings; the impulse sent his young
blood careering, and, springing up, he continued to run as if the race
had only just begun. But ere long the pace again began to tell,
producing a sinking of the heart, which tended to increase the evil.
Hour after hour had passed without his making any perceptible
abatement in the pace, and the night was now closing in. This however
mattered not, for the full moon was sailing in a clear sky, ready to
relieve guard with the sun. Again the thought recurred that he acted
unwisely in thus pressing on beyond his powers, and once more he
stopped and sat down.
This time the text could not be said to flash into his mind, for while
running, it had never left him. He now deliberately set himself to
consider it, and the word "patience" arrested his attention.
"Let us run with patience," he thought. "I have not been patient. But the
white man did not mean this kind of race at all; he said it was the whole
race of life. Well, if so, this is part of that race, and it is set before me.
Patience! patience! I will try."
With childlike simplicity the red man rose and began to run slowly. For
some time he kept it up, but as his mind reverted to the object of his
race his patience began to ooze out. He could calculate pretty well the
rate at which the Blackfoot foes would probably travel, and knowing

the exact distance, perceived that it would be impossible for him to
reach the camp before them, unless he ran all the way at full speed. The
very thought of this induced him to put on a spurt, which broke him
down altogether. Stumbling over a piece of rough ground, he fell with
such violence that for a moment or two he lay stunned. Soon, however,
he was on his legs again, and tried to resume his headlong career, but
felt that the attempt was useless. With a deep irrepressible groan, he
sank upon the turf.
It was in this hour of his extremity that the latter part of the preacher's
text came to his mind: "looking unto Jesus."
Poor Whitewing looked upwards, as if he half expected to see the
Saviour with the bodily eye, and a mist seemed to be creeping over him.
He was roused from this semi-conscious state by the clattering of
horses' hoofs.
The Blackfoot band at once occurred to his mind. Starting up, he hid
behind a piece of rock. The sounds drew nearer, and presently he saw
horsemen passing him at a considerable distance. How many he could
not make out. There seemed to be very few. The thought that it might
be his friend the trapper occurred, but if he were to shout, and it should
turn out to be foes, not only would his own fate but that of his tribe be
sealed. The case was desperate; still, anything was better than
remaining helplessly where he was. He uttered a sharp cry.
It was responded to at once in the voice of Little Tim, and next moment
the faithful trapper galloped towards Whitewing leading his horse by
the bridle.
"Well, now, this is good luck," cried the trapper, as he rode up.
"No," replied the Indian gravely, "it is not luck."
"Well, as to that, I don't much care what you call it--but get up. Why,
what's wrong wi' you?"
"The run has been very long, and I pressed forward impatiently,

trusting too much to my own strength. Let my friend help me to
mount."
"Well, now I come to think of it," said the trapper, as he sprang to the
ground, "you have come a tremendous way--a most awful long way--in
an uncommon short time. A fellow don't think o' that when he's
mounted, ye see. There now," he added, resuming his own seat in the
saddle, "off we go. But there's no need to overdrive the cattle; we'll be
there in good time, I warrant ye, for the nags are both good and fresh."
Little Tim spoke the simple truth, for his own horse which he had
discovered along with that of his friend some time after parting from
him, was a splendid animal, much more powerful and active than the
ordinary Indian horses. The steed of Whitewing was a half-wild
creature of Spanish descent, from the plains of Mexico.
Nothing more was spoken after this. The two horsemen rode steadily
on side by side, proceeding with long but not too rapid strides over the
ground: now descending into the hollows, or ascending the gentle
undulations of the plains;