Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. The Story of Red Feather: A Tale of the American Frontier by Edward Sylvester Ellis (top 100 novels of all time TXT) 📖
- Author: Edward Sylvester Ellis
Book online «The Story of Red Feather: A Tale of the American Frontier by Edward Sylvester Ellis (top 100 novels of all time TXT) 📖». Author Edward Sylvester Ellis
Red Feather beckoned as best he could for the little one to come nigh him.
It was at this juncture that Dot uttered the cry which brought Melville in such haste from the room above. He rushed down, loaded gun in hand, and it is stating the matter mildly to say that he effected a change in the situation. Startled by the sound of the steps on the stairs, Red Feather glanced up and saw the lad, his face white with anger, and a very dangerous-looking rifle in his hand.
"I'll teach you manners!" called out Melville, halting on reaching [29]the floor, and bringing his weapon to a level; "such a rogue as you ain't fit to live."
"Poured out the simple prayer of faith and love."
As you may suppose, Red Feather was satisfied that the best thing for him to do was to leave that place as quickly as he knew how. He began struggling fiercely to back out, and he must have been surprised when he found he was fast, and that the more he strove to free himself the more firmly he became wedged in.
Seeing his predicament, Melville advanced a couple of steps, holding his weapon so that its muzzle was within arm's length of the terrified visage of the chieftain.
"I've got you, Red Feather!" said the exultant youth; "and the best thing I can do is to shoot you."
[30]"Oh, Mel!" called Dot, running towards her brother, "don't hurt him, for that would be wicked."
I must do Melville Clarendon the justice to state that he had no intention of shooting the Sioux chieftain who was caught fast in such a curious way. Such an act would have been cruel, though many persons would say it was right, because Red Feather was trying to slay both Melville and his little sister.
But the youth could not help enjoying the strange fix in which the Indian was caught, and he meant to make the best use of it. It is not often that an American Indian loses his wits when in danger, but Red Feather, for a few minutes, was under the control of a feeling such as a soldier shows when stricken by panic.
Had he kept cool, and carefully turned and twisted about as required, while slowly drawing backward, he could have released himself from the snare without trouble; but it was his frantic effort which defeated his own purpose, and forced him to stop, panting and despairing, with his head still within the room, and at the mercy of the youth, who seemed to lower his gun only at the earnest pleading of his little sister.
It was no more than natural that the Sioux should have felt certain that his head and shoulders were beginning to swell, and that, even if the lad spared him, he would never be able to get himself out of the scrape, unless the side of the house should be first taken down.
It was a time to sue for mercy, and the desperate, ugly-tempered Red Feather was prompt to do so. Ceasing his efforts, and turning his face, all aglow with cold perspiration, towards the boy, who had just lowered the muzzle of his gun, he tried to smile, though the expression of his countenance was anything but smiling, and said—
[31]"Red Feather love white boy—love white girl!"
It is hard to restrain one's pity for another when in actual distress, and Melville's heart was touched the instant the words were uttered.
"Sit down in your chair," he said gently to Dot, "and don't disobey me again by leaving it until I tell you."
"But you won't hurt him, will you?" she pleaded, half obeying, and yet hesitating until she could receive his answer.
Not wishing Red Feather to know his decision, he stooped over and whispered in her ear—
"No, Dot, I will not hurt him; but don't say anything, for I don't want him to know it just yet."
It is more than likely that the distressed Sioux saw enough in the bright face to awaken hope, for he renewed his begging for mercy.
"Red Feather love white folks—he been bad Injin—he be good Injin now—'cause he love white folks."
"Red Feather," said he, lowering his voice so as not to reach the ears of the other Sioux, drawn to the spot by the strange occurrence; "you do not deserve mercy, for you came to kill me and all my folk. There! don't deny it, for you speak with a double tongue. But she has asked me to spare you, and perhaps I will. If I keep away all harm from you, what will you do for us?"
"Love white folks—Red Feather go away—won't hurt—bring game to his brother."
Having rested a few minutes, the Sioux began wriggling desperately again, hoping to free himself by sheer strength; but he could not budge his head and shoulders from their vice-like imprisonment, and something like despair must have settled over him when all doubt that he was swelling fast was removed.
[32]It was at the same instant that two of the warriors on the outside, seeing the hapless position of their chief, seized his feet, and began tugging with all their power.
They quickly let go, however; for the impatient sachem delivered such a vigorous kick that both went over backward, with their feet pointed towards the clouds.
"Red Feather," said Melville, standing close enough to the hapless prisoner to touch him with his hand, "if I help you out of that place and do not hurt you, will you and your warriors go away?"
The Sioux nodded so vigorously that he struck his chin against the wood hard enough to cause him some pain.
"Me go away—all Sioux go away—neber come here 'gin—don't hurt nuffin—hurry way."
"And you will not come back to harm us?"
"Neber come back—stay way—love white folks."
"I don't believe you will ever love them, and I don't ask you to do so; but you know that my father and mother and I have always treated your people kindly, and they have no reason to hurt us."
"Dat so—dat so—Red Feather love fader, love moder, love son, love pappoose of white folks."
"You see how easy it would be for me to shoot you where you are now without any risk to myself, but I shall not hurt you. I will help to get your head and shoulders loose; but I am afraid that when you mount your horse again and ride out on the prairie you will forget all you promised me."
"Neber, neber, neber!" replied the chieftain, with all the energy at his command.
"Oh, Mel!" called Dot "don't hurt him."—Page 30[34]
"You will think that you know enough never to run your head [35]into that window again, and you will want to set fire to the house and tomahawk us."
The Sioux looked as if he was deeply pained at this distrust of his honorable intentions, and he seemed at a loss to know what to say to restore himself to the good graces of his youthful master.
"You are sure you won't forget your promise, Red Feather?"
"Red Feather Sioux chief—he neber tell lie—he speak wid single tongue—he love white folks."
"I counted five warriors with you; are they all you have?"
"Dey all—hab no more."
Melville believed the Indian spoke the truth.
"Where are the rest?"
"Go down oder side Muddy Riber—won't come here."
Melville was inclined to credit this statement also. If Red Feather spoke the truth, the rest of his band, numbering fully a score, were twenty miles distant, and were not likely to appear in that part of the country. Such raids as that on which they were engaged must of necessity be pushed hard and fast. Even if the settlers do not instantly rally, the American cavalry are quite sure to follow them, and the Indians have no time to loiter. The rest of the band, if a score of miles away, were likely to have their hands full without riding thus far out of their course.
"Well," said Melville, after a moment's thought, as if still in doubt as to what he ought to do, "I shall not hurt you—more than that, I will help you to free yourself."
He leaned his gun against the table near him, and stepped forward and placed his hands on the head and shoulders of the suffering prisoner.
[36]"Oogh!" grunted Red Feather; "grow bigger—swell up fast—bimeby Red Feather get so big, he die."
"I don't think it is as bad as that," remarked Melville, unable to repress a smile, "but it will take some work to get you loose."
CHAPTER FOURTHE CONSULTATION—ON THE ROOF
MELVILLE now examined the fix of the chieftain more closely. His struggles had hurt the skin about his neck and shoulders, and there could be no doubt he was suffering considerably.
Clasping the dusky head with his hands, the youth turned it gently, so that it offered the least possible resistance. Then he asked him to move his shoulder slightly to the left, and, while Melville pushed carefully but strongly, told him to exert himself, not hastily but slowly, and with all the power at his command.
Resting a minute or two, the attempt was renewed and this time Red Feather succeeded in withdrawing for an inch or two, though the effort plainly caused him pain.
"That's right," added Melville, encouragingly; "we shall succeed—try it again."
There was a vigorous scraping, tugging, and pulling, and all at once the head and shoulders vanished through the window. Red Feather was released from the vice.
"There, I knew you would be all right!" called the lad through the opening. "Good-bye, Red Feather."
[37]The chief must have been not only confused and bewildered, but chagrined by the exhibition made before the lad and his own warriors, who, had they possessed any sense of humor, would have laughed at the sorry plight of their leader.
Stepping back from the window, so as not to tempt any shot from the other Sioux, all of whom had gathered about the chief, Melville found himself in a dilemma.
"Shall I take Red Feather at his word?" he asked himself; "shall I open the door and walk out with Dot, mount Saladin and gallop off to Barwell, or—wait?"
There is little doubt, from what followed, that the former would have been the wiser course of the youth. Despite the treacherous character of the Sioux leader, he was so relieved by his release from what he felt at the time was a fatal snare, and by the kindness received from the boy, that his heart was stirred by something akin to gratitude, and he would have restrained his warriors from violence.
Had Melville been alone, he would not have hesitated; but he was irresolute on account of Dot. Looking down in her sweet trustful face, his heart misgave him; he felt that, so long as she was with him, he could assume no risks. He was comparatively safe for a time in the building, while there was no saying what would follow if he should place himself and Dot in the power of Indians that had set out to destroy and slay.
Besides, if Red Feather meant to keep his promise he could do so without involving the brother and sister in the least danger. He had only to ride off with his warriors, when Melville would walk forth, call Saladin to him, mount, and ride away.
"If he is honest," was his decision, "he will do that; I will wait [38]until they are only a short distance off, and then will gallop to the settlement."
"Come," said he, taking the hand of Dot, "let's go upstairs."
"Why don't you stay down here, Mel?"
"Well, I am afraid to leave you alone because you are so apt to forget your promises to me; and since I want to go upstairs I must take you with me."
She made no objection, and holding Susie clasped by one arm, she placed the other hand in her brother's, and, side by side, the two walked up the steps to the larger room, occupied by their parents when at home.
"Now," said Melville, speaking with great seriousness, "you must do just as I tell you, Dot; for it you don't the bad Indians will surely hurt you, and you will never see Susie again."
She gave her pledge with such earnestness that he could depend upon her from that time forward.
"You must not go near the window unless I tell you to
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