CHILDREN’S STORY.

Waikato Times, Volume 106, Issue 17804, 31 August 1929, Page 16 (Supplement)

CHILDREN’S STORY.

SILVERWING’S GRATITUDE

(Sent*.*by “Silver Beams,” Tamahere.)

Hunter Haynes came hurrying down the track to his little Jog cabin, with his pack pony laden with stores from the township". “Bob!” he called out anxiously. “Bob, where are you, my lad?”

From the back of the cabin camo running his boy.

"Hallo, Dad! Here I am.' You are soon back,” he answered. Then he noticed the anxious look on his father's face. “Why, what is the matter? Has anything happened?” he added.

“Yes; they tell me Silverwing is on the warpath again,” replied the hunter. “He has been seen making for these woods, so we must keep an eye on our horses.”

Bob’s face grew stern at the news. He had heard of the young Indian chief Silverwing. Once he had been the friend of the white men, but it was said that he had been cheated b‘y

some paleface trader, and for revenge he would take any property he could

that belonged to white people

Horses, of course, were the easiest things for him to take, especially as the Indian himself rode a beautiful horse called Flcetfoot. It was so fast that once he was mounted on it no white man could catch him. “I will go. and see about our horses

at once, Dad," said Bob. “I was down , giving (hem water at mid-day, and they were safe. I’ll bring them up here and put them in the barn close to the cabin.” Without further delay the boy went down the trail that led to the little meadow where their live precious ponies were feeding. But when he reached the feeding ground his heart fell. He was too late—the ponies had gone.

“Silverwing has already been here,” he muttered to himself, lie looked around to make sure that the animals had not strayed, and suddenly his eyes brightened:—in the silence he could hear a horse cropping Ihe grass. “There is one, at any rale,” ho said. But when he rounded the rocks it was not one of the missing ponies he saw, but a strange animal, a beautiful steed, finer than any horse he had seen before; and across its back, instead of a white man’s saddle, lay folded an Indian blanket. Like a flash it came to him that before him stood Fleetfoot, the famous horse of Silverwing,

The hors© saw him coming, but made no attempt to get away; and Bob had no trouble in catching him. lie had barely caught hold of the animal, however, when he heard a shout from the direction of the stream. Bob could not see the level of the water, as it had worn a,deep channel in the rocks, ao, leading the horse, he walked over.

A quick glance showed him what had happened. The cry had come from a tall young Indian who was hanging on the rocks, at the edge of the water below. It was a drop •of some 12 feet and the side was as smooth as glass, and impossible to climb up. "Help, paleface!” he called. "Me fallen down stream, and no get up again.” Bob had no doubt who the Indian was,, but whether it was Silverwing or not the man was in danger, and.had to be helped. On the Indian’s horse w r as colled a

rope, and letting it down to the brave he made it fact to a tree stump. As nimbly as a squirrel the Indian climbed up it, and a few moments later was shaking the water from his head-dress by Bob’s side. “Me heap thankful to you, paleface,” he said. “Me no forget 1” lie turned to mount the horse, but Bob caught his arm. “Where are our horses?” he asked. The man looked surprised. “Me no take your horses,” he said. Then he smiled. “Ahl” he went on. “I know. Heap big bear has frightened them away. He frightened Fleetfoot here, and he threw me down into water. You wait; they soon came back.” With that he rode off. Bob was returning to the cabin with his story when there came a deep growl from behind him. He turned, and there, waddling after him, was a big black bear. The animaFs eyes were angry, and Bob started to run for all he was worth. But the track was rocky and uneven, and suddenly, with a sharp cry of pain, be slipped, and at the same moment his foot went numb and felt useless.

“Oh, I’ve broken my ankle 1” cried Bob. “The bear will get me now.” Then there came a clatter of hoofs, and a second later, just as the angry bear appeared around the corner of the rock, Silverwing on Fleetfoot swooped around from the other side. Tlic Indian leaned over and, catching Boh by the arm, swept him on to the horse in front of him.

. “I save you now, paleface,” he cried. He said no more until lie stopped just outside the white hunter’s cabin. The hunter bimseli carue running out. I‘Liltle paleface hurt him foot; heap bad. Big bear come after him,” explained Silverwing. Tn the cabin h e told more of the

story about the bear, and the hunter igreed that It must have been the bear which had frightened his ponies away. But better than that, he heard Silverwing's own story ; and how he was really an honest Indian.

“I will tell them at the stores the truth about you," he said, “and you can come and work with me at hunting.” And so, when Bob’s foot was better, he had a new friend in his work, one who could teach him more than anybody of the secrets of tracking and hunting.