On the Pampas; Or, The Young SettlersHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
General
On the Pampas; Or, The Young Settlers
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Pampas (Argentina) -- Juvenile fiction
Toward the middle of the day two or three Indians might have been
seen going through the village, summoning those whose position and
rank entitled them to a place at the council.
Soon they were seen approaching, and taking their seats gravely on
the ground in front of the hut of the principal chief. The women,
the youths, and such men as had not as yet by their feats in battle
distinguished themselves sufficiently to be summoned to the
council, assembled at a short distance off. The council sat in the
form of a circle, the inner ring being formed of the elder and
leading men of the tribe, while the warriors sat round them.
Struck by the hush which had suddenly succeeded to the noise of the
village, Ethel again went to the door. She was greatly struck by
the scene, and was looking wonderingly at it, when she felt a touch
on her shoulder, and on looking round saw the Fawn gazing pityingly
at her, and at the same time signing to her to come in.
The truth at once flashed across Ethel's mind. The council had met
to decide her fate, and she did not doubt for a moment what that
decision would be. She felt that all hope was over, and retiring
into the hut passed the time in prayer and in preparation for the
fearful ordeal which was at hand.
After the council had met there was a pause of expectation, and the
Stag then rose.
"My brothers, my heart is very glad. The Great Spirit has ceased to
frown upon his children. Twice we went out, and twice returned
empty-handed, while many of our lodges were empty. The guns which
shoot without loading were too strong for us, and we returned
sorrowful. Last year we did not go out; the hearts of our braves
were heavy. This year we said perhaps the Great Spirit will no
longer be angry with his children, and we went out. This time we
have not returned empty-handed. The lowing of cattle is in my ear,
and I see many sheep. The white men have felt the strength of our
arms; and of the young men who went out with me there is not one
missing. Best of all, we have brought back a captive, the daughter
of the white chief of the flying fires and the guns which load
themselves. Let me hand her over to our women; they will know how
to make her cry; and we will send her head to the white chief, to
show that his guns cannot reach to the Indian country. Have I
spoken well?"
A murmur of assent followed the chief's speech; and supposing that
no more would be said upon the matter, the Stag was about to
declare the council closed, when an Indian sitting in the inner
circle rose.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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