"WHITE FEATHER."

Auckland Star, Volume LV, Issue 170, 19 July 1924, Page 22

"WHITE FEATHER."

White Feather sat outside his wigwam, his eyes fixed gloomily on the ground. They had called him a coward! A few days ago he was a happy, careless boy, mixing in the games of his tribe, liked by the stern old chiefs and respected by the fat little papooses. And now—now they called him a coward, and gave the shameful name of White Feather! He had just come of age to be a brave, and he had failed in the test. It was a trying test, certainly, and one from which a white man might well have shrunk; but a redskin was supposed to know no fear, and he had failed. Panic had seized White Feather and he had turned and fled! By the harsh Indian law he was voted a coward, unworthy to be called a brave, only fit to help the squaws to chop wood or cook the buffalo meat which the hunters brought in from the prairie. "I am not a coward! I am net!" he told himself, almost fiercely, striding away from the village into the quiet seclusion of the woods. "If they sent

mc on the warpath I should prove myself as good a brave as any! Masqua meant to kill mc when he threw that tomahawk! I saw it in his eyes. But— oh, why did I run?" In his agony he found himself talking aloud. "Better far to have died than be called a coward. Why, oh, why did I run?" "My brother ran because he was afraid," said the sneering voice behind him of his old enemy. In an instant "White Feather leapt at him and seized him by the throat. The two came down to the ground with a crash. Masqua's head struck a stone, and he lay limp and silent. "Boaster!" muttered tne young Indian slowly rising. "Let him lie there like the dog he is!" Turning away, White Feather strode moodily off through the trees. He had not gone far when he heard a low growl behind him, and, turning quickly, he saw a huge grizzly bear sniffing round the unconscious redskin. White Feather knew that if he abandoned Masqua at that terrible moment he would never be seen again. But th e n—what would that matter to White Feather? Wasn't Masqua his enemy? Hadn't be insulted him —called him coward ? And White Feather had no gun; to' attack a grizzly, single-handed, and armed only with a tomahawk, w-as asking for trouble. The bear gave another deep growl and placed one foot on the prostrate man. At that moment, White Feather made up his mind. Enemy or not, he could not leave Masqua to- his fate. Drawing his tomahawk, he rushed towards the grizzly with a loud yell. The" great beast rose up on his hind legs, waving his paws in the air. White Feather and Master Bruin struck out at the same time, and both blows found their mark. The redskin was leveUed to the gound by one terrible sweep of that great paw—but the blade of his tomahawk bit deep into the brain of the grizzly. They fell to the ground together, and Masqua was saved. White Feather, though terribly injured, was not killed; and Masqua himself nursed him back to health. Since that gallant fight with the bear White Feather has been known by a different name. They call him Bearslayer.