CHILDREN'S COLUMN.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXIX, Issue 11869, 22 January 1902, Page 3

CHILDREN'S COLUMN.

THE RIVER'S WARNING.' [BY HAMLIN" garland'.] ; We were visiting the camp of Big Elk

on the Washetay and were lounging in the teepee of the chief himself - as the sun. went down. All about us could be heard the laughter of the children and the low hum of women talking over their work. Dogs and babies struggled together on' the sod, groups of old men were telling stories and the savoury smell of new-baked bread was in the air. The Indian is a social being and naturally dependent upon his fellows. He has no newspapers, no posters, no handbills. His news comes by word of mouth, therefore the." taciturn red man" does not exist. | They are often superb talkers, dramatic, fluent, humorous. Laughter abounds in a camp. The men joke, tell stories with the point against themselves, ridicule those who boast, and pass easily from the humorous to the very grave and mysterious in their faith. It is this loquacity, so necessary to the tribe, which makes it so hard for a red man to keep a secret. In short, a camp of Indians is not so unlike a country village where nothing but the local paper is read and where gossip is the surest way of finding out how the world is wagging. There are in both villages • the same group of old men _ with stories of the past, of the war time, to: whom the young men list-en with ill-con-' cealed impatience. When a stranger comes to town all the story-tellers rejoice and gird up their loins afresh. It is always therefore in the character of the eager listener that I visit a camp of red people. Big Elk was not an old man, not yet sixty, but he was a story-teller to whom everybody listened, for he had been. an adventurous youth, impulsive and reckless, yet generous and kindly. He was a handsome old fellow natively, but he wore his cheap trousers . so sdouchily and his hat was so broken that at a distance in the' daytime he resembled a tramp. That night as he sat bareheaded in his teepee/ with his blanket, drawn around his loins, he was admirable. His head was large, and not unlike the pictures of Ben Franklin. •*-

"You see in those days," lie explained, " in the war time with the game robbers, every boy was brought up to • hate the white man who came into our land to kill off our buffalo. We heard that these men killed for money like the soldiers who came to fight us/ and that made our fathers despise them. I have heard that the white boys were taught to hate us in the same way, and so when we met we fought. The white man considered us a new kind of big game to hunt, and we considered him a wolf, paid to rob 3hd kill us. Those were dark days. , ; "I was about twenty-two, it may be, when the old man agent first came to the, east bank of the Canadian, and there sat; down. My father.went to see him, I remember, and came • back laughing. " He said: 'Heis a thin did,man and can take his teeth out in pieces and put them back,' and this amused us all very much. To this day, as you know, that is the sign for an agent among us, to take ' out the upper teeth. ' , •, v, | "We did not care for the agent at that time for we had plenty of buffalo meat and skins. Some of the camp went over and drew rations, it is true, but others did not go. I pretended to be very indifferent, but I was crazy to go, for I had neverseen a white man's house and had never stood close to. any white man. I heard the others tell of a great many wonderful things over there—and they said there .'Were white women and children also. "I was ambitious to do a great /Heed in those days, and had made . myself the leader of some, fourteen reckless young warriors like myself. I sat around 'and smoked in teepee, and one .night I said: 'Brothers, let us go to the agency ;\nd steal the horses.' - "This made each one. of them spring to his feet. 'Good, /good!' they said. ' Lead us. We will follow. That is worth doing." "'The white men are few and cowardly,' I said. 'We can Gash in and run off the horses, and then J. think the old men will no longer call us- boys. They will sing oi us in their songfj. We . shall be counted ir the council thereafter.' - " They were all eager to go, and that night we slipped out' of camp and saddled, | and rode away across the prairie which was fetlock deep in grass. Just the time for a raid. I felt like a big chief as I led m\ band in silence through the night-. Mj bosom swelled with pride like a turkeycock, and my heart was fierce. "We came in sight of the white , man's village next day about noon, and,veering a little ,to the north, I led my band intc camp some miles above the agency. Here I mada a talk to my band and said: ' Now you remain here and I will go alone. anc . spy out the enemy and count his warrior; and make plans for ■ the battle. You car rest and grow strong while I am gone. " Big Elk's eyes twinkled as he resumed. ,'"I thought I was a brave lad to do this thing, and I rode away trying to look un i, concerned. I was very curious to see the agency. I was like a coyote who comes into camp to spy out the meat rocks.' This remark caused a ripple of laughter which Big Elk ignored. "As I forded the | river I glanced right and left, counting the wooden teepees," (he made a sign of the roof)—"and I found them not so many as • I had heard. As I rode up the bank ] passed near a white woman, and I looked - at her with sharp eyes. I had heard that . all white women looked white and sick- . like. This I found was true. This woman 3 had yellow hair and was thin and pale. i She was not afraid of me—she did not seem ? to notice me, and that surprised me. 1 " Then I passed by a big wooden teepee " which was very dirty and smoky. I could k see a man, all over black, who was pound- ? ing at something. He made a sound, s clank, clank, cluck-clank. I stood at the ■. door and looked in. It was all very wonderful. There were horses in there, and T this black man was putting iron mocassins j on the horses' feet. "An Arapahoe stood there and' I said i, in signs: 'What do they do that for?' He replied: 'So that- the horses can go r over rocks without wearing off their 3 hoofs.'

" That seemed to me a fine thing to do and I wanted my pony fixed that way. I asked where the agent was, and he pointed toward a tall pole on which fluttered a piece of red and white and blue cloth. I rode that way. There were some Chevennes at the door, who asked me who I was and where I came from. I told them any kind of old story and said, ' Where is the agent?' " They allowed me a door and I went in. I had never been in a white man's teepee before, and I noticed that the walls were strong and the door had iron on it. 'Ho I said, ' This looks like a trap. Easy to go in, hard to get out. I guess I will be peaceful while I am in here.' "The agent was a little old man— could have broken his back with a club as he sat with his back toward me. He paid no attention till a half-breed came up to me and said, 'What do you want?' "'I want to see the agent.' "'There he is, look at him,' and he laughed. The agent turned around and held out his hand. 'How how,' he said. 'What is your name?' " His face was very kind, and I went to him and took his hand. His tongue I could not understand, but the half-breed helped me. We talked. I made up a story. 'I have heard you give away things to the Chevennes,' I said, ' therefore I have come for my share.' (To be concluded next Wednesday.)