AN HEIRLOOM RETURNED.
Rand, whose inquiring turn of mind was scarcely inferior to that of Jack, but of a more profound and less transitory nature, had shown a strong interest in the Indian boatmen from the beginning of their journey and had struck up an especial friendship with the Indian whose dog had tackled the wild cat and had been later crushed by the Kodiak bear. The red man, while not morose, was taciturn, and replied to all questions with monosyllables and scarcely a smile. He showed friendliness in other ways, and as he became better acquainted with the boys responded to the young Scout leader"s approaches. Day by day and word by word he inducted Rand into the mysteries of the "pigeon," or jargon used as a language of communication with the natives. It was made up of half Siwash, half English words, the latter so amputated and distorted as scarcely to be recognizable. It was rather automatic in character, as it could be changed or added to as circ.u.mstances required, and Rand found it easy to use after he had mastered the first few principles of it, if it may be said to have had any.
One evening, after the day"s work was over, Rand strolled over to the shack where the Indians lived and found his erstwhile friend sitting on a stone, engaged in slowly carving with a sharp knife the soft wood of a sycamore spar that had been carefully cleared of its branches and smoothed to comparative symmetry. The worker had begun at the b.u.t.t end of the pole and had worked his way carefully upward. The carvings were weird, goggle eyed, snouted and saw-toothed creatures, the like of which could only have originated in the brain of the late Lewis Carroll, who wrote "Alice in Wonderland" or in the dreams of a Siwash nourished on smoked salmon and rancid seal oil. Part of the carved lines of one creature formed the features of another (if they could be dignified by the name of features), and there was a sort of artistic continuity about the whole that aroused Rand"s interest and admiration. At the b.u.t.t of the pole another Indian had begun with two or three bean tins filled with crude colors evidently made from vegetable dyes, to paint the carvings already finished. Rand pointed to the pole, and asked:
"What?"
"Totem," grunted the Siwash. "Me chief." He further informed the young Scout that it was his purpose to set it up in front of the camp. Just then, Swift.w.a.ter came along and spoke to the Indian in his native Siwash.
The latter arose and stood for a moment erect, with his hand on his breast with so dignified an air that Rand could scarcely recognize in the figure before him the slouching round-shouldered aborigine, who went daily, so stolidly, about the labor of the camp. Swift.w.a.ter listened to the rather oratorical harangue which the Indian delivered, smiling at times, but giving the man respectful attention. He even gave him half a salute, as he turned and walked with Rand toward their own tent.
"I didn"t know that we had with us a representative of the old Siwash n.o.bility. The tribal relations of these people are pretty well broken up since we brought our boasted civilization and our whiskey up among their homes, and they don"t recognize the authority of their head men any more.
They have "got onto" our most cherished principle that all men were created free and equal, and the chiefs and their families have to hustle for a living as hard as the lowest of them. Still, they cling to their ancient dignities. That totem he"s been carving is the insignia of his clan or family, and as he couldn"t bring the old family totem pole with him, he carves one wherever he settles for a time, and sets it up. You remember in old "Ivanhoe," Front de Boeuf and the Templar displayed their banners on the castle walls whenever they came up for the week end, and they really didn"t have so much on this old rootdigger after all. I rather like his s.p.u.n.k. Good family connections are really something to be proud of if ye don"t let "em interfere with yer business, and they don"t come visitin" too often."
Something about the totem pole aroused Rand"s imagination, and with the other boys he went over to the shack to look at the "work of art" as Jack insisted on calling it. Although the boys had seen totem poles in the city museums, and one or two on their original ground in the Alaskan villages that they had visited, there was something familiar about this one. As they went over the various figures, trying to distinguish them from each other and speculating on what they were supposed to represent, Pepper, who had been inspecting the upper part of the work, where lack of color made the figures less conspicuous, suddenly exclaimed:
"S-s-say, this fellow"s family isn"t so very old. Here"s the ace of clubs, and that couldn"t have got over here before Columbus, and he didn"t come up this far."
"What"s that?" said Rand. "Let"s look at it." Then, for the first time, the reason for the familiarity of the design struck him.
"Hey, boys," he cried, excitedly, "don"t you see it?"
"What is it?" they cried in chorus, crowding around him.
"There, there, and there. The top of this totem is an exact replica of our narwhal horn. Here"s the mammoth, and here"s the pile of tusks."
"Begorra, that"s truth," said Gerald. "Looks as though he had copied it from our ivory. Run and get it, Rand."
The young Scout leader, who had been made custodian of the treasure, returned to the tent and brought out the relic. It was a short, broken piece of the twisted horn of the narwhal or white whale, discolored, and rubbed smooth as if with much handling. It was covered with rude etchings evidently made with flints or sharp sh.e.l.ls. As nearly as could be made out, the figures represented a mammoth, an extinct creature of the elephant tribe, a man beside a dogless sledge, a pile of mammoth tusks, and a high cliff with an opening or cave at the top whose mouth was shaped like the ace of clubs referred to by Pepper.
With the greatest care the boys went over the lines of the graven ivory comparing the figures with the carvings of the hieroglyphics which the "chief" had carved on his totem pole, and found them to be almost identical, except for a few minor particulars caused by the relief work on the totem, and less crudity in the carvings.
The Indians at this time of day were engaged at their work of sawing lumber and in finishing the foundations of the sod house, where a ditch was being dug, but it being near the hour of noon the man who had described himself as a "chief" came to the shack to arrange for the noonday meal.
The boys turned to greet him as he came up, and Rand drew his attention to the ivory, intending to indicate the resemblance of the two carvings. As his eye fell upon the relic a remarkable change came over the Siwash. He reached forward, and his eyes blazing with excitement, almost tore the ivory from Rand"s hand and stepped back in a defiant att.i.tude.
Heretofore, the tones of the Indians, like those of their dogs, had been low, guttural and subdued. Now the aborigine gave vent to a shrill piercing yell, and, at the same time, waved hysterically to his comrades, all five of whom dropped their tools and rushed to the shack and surrounded the chief.
With a wealth of wild gesticulation and deep growling tones that at times rose to almost a shriek in a higher note they examined the horn and appeared to pay it the most awed reverence. The Scouts seeing that they were so deeply interested did not attempt to repossess themselves of their treasure for some minutes, and then Rand was met by a most firm refusal on the part of the leading Indian to give it up.
The other Indians surrounded him in a defiant att.i.tude--the first sign of insubordination that had yet appeared among them, and the boys seeing that they had encountered a mystery which could not at once be unraveled, and that the relic had some almost overpowering importance to the Siwashes, determined to drop the matter for the time being, and put it up later to the commander of the camp.
The aborigines went back quietly to their labor in the afternoon, and the boys who were at work with the miner, laying out the foundation for the sawmill, took occasion in the intervals of their labor to tell Swift.w.a.ter the story of the narwhal"s horn, and the incident that had taken place at noon. The guide listened with close attention, and at the finish of the incident his face was rather grave.
"I"ll talk with that main guy Siwash, some time this afternoon. Meantime, I wish you would all leave this matter in my hands. It may turn out to be of more importance to us than we think."
The Scouts readily agreed, and toward the middle of the afternoon the miner left them and strolled over to where the Indians were at work on the sod house, and calling the "chief" to one side walked away with him to the bank of the creek.
"Well," said Jack, when they were all together at one end of the foundation, "what do you think of it? There seems to be more in that horn than we thought when we decided to bring it along with us."
"Yes," replied Rand, "and we seem to be coming out of the little end of it."
"Faith," exclaimed Gerald, "it looks as if that Indian was going to hold on to our relic, and the others seem as if they were going to stand by him."
"They certainly have seen something like it before," commented d.i.c.k, "and maybe it"s worth more to them than to us. It was only a mere guess of ours, after Colonel Snow undertook to interpret it to us, that there might be anything behind it, and it was only because it had evidently come from an Arctic country that we even thought of bringing it along with us."
"I think," said Rand, "that we shall have trouble getting it back, and I, for one, propose that we leave the whole matter in the hands of Swift.w.a.ter and try and get the true inwardness of the thing from him. It ought to be a good story if we don"t get anything else out of it." This view was readily agreed to, and the afternoon"s work was progressing satisfactorily when Don, after deep thought, said:
"I"ve been listening to this Siwash language, and I haed me doots as to whether it was a real language like Gaelic or English or just a rumble, but when I heard that head man scream like a white man I concluded that it"s got some elements of a language."
The conference between the miner and the chief lasted for a half hour, after which the latter returned to his work, and Swift.w.a.ter joined the boys. His face was still grave, and simply remarking that he would enlighten them at supper when the afternoon"s work was completed.
"I"m a little bothered about this matter," said Swift.w.a.ter, after the evening meal was concluded, "and would have given a good deal if it hadn"t happened. My experience with savages the world over has taught me that while you may rob them and make war on them and get away with it, that you cannot interfere safely with their religions or their traditions. Not that we have intentionally done so, but it may have an effect after all.
"The chief told me a long story, a good deal of which I couldn"t quite make out the sense of, but it seems that you boys have in some way got hold of an ancient treasure of his tribe many hundred years old, and considered in some way, sacred. He says there were two of these relics, that they were handed from generation to generation and carefully guarded.
At first they were merely the record of a buried treasure, the wealth of the northern tribes being the ivory of the walrus and the narwhal and such tusks of the mammoth as came to them through the melting of the glaciers.
The buried treasure was never found, and the tradition finally became incorporated in the totem or coat of arms of the tribe.
"Many years ago this family of Siwashes was raided by tall red Indians from the far southwest and the family scattered, and many women and children and much loot taken. These ivory relics were among the loot, and have been simply a legend of the remnants of the tribe ever since.
"The unexpected return of this relic has aroused a new spirit in them, and I can see a little offishness and suspicion. While I do not expect any trouble from them I want to be absolutely certain of them until we get this work of Colonel Snow"s done, and as I say, I should have been better satisfied if the matter had not come up at this time."
"I want to suggest," said Rand, "that we Scouts surrender all claim to the ivory, and tell the Indians that they are welcome to the relic."
"That might be a good idea, and I will go along with you and explain to the Siwashes that it came into your hands accidentally."
The boys crossed over to the shack where the chief sat smoking with the others. For some reason all work on the totem pole had been abandoned for that night at least.
Rand, in his newly acquired jargon, explained to the aborigines that the Scouts desired to present the heirloom to the tribe, and Swift.w.a.ter supplemented this with a talk in the native tongue telling just how the boys had come into possession of the horn.
The Indians listened gravely, without expression, except to nod eager a.s.sent to the offer of the Scouts to relinquish the prized relic. The chief even showed some cordiality, saying:
"Good! You come me potlatch," which Jim explained was an invitation to visit him at his village on the occasion of a merrymaking similar to a Christmas celebration.
The Scouts retired that night full of the mystery of the thing, feeling as if they had come, somehow, into touch with a long dead past. Swift.w.a.ter appeared more rea.s.sured, but took occasion to visit the shack before turning in and found the aborigines all herded together with the dog in the almost air tight hut, ventilation appearing to be a thing abhorrent to them.
The first thing that became apparent when the boys and the miner threw back the cheesecloth door of their tent that kept out the horde of mosquitos in the early morning was the absolute silence of the forest. The six Indians had taken one of the two boats, and with the dog had silently drifted away during the night down the current of Gold.
CHAPTER X.
BUILDING THE CAMP.
The chagrin of Swift.w.a.ter Jim was almost too great for expression when the discovery of the Indians" desertion was made.