The War-Trail Fort: Further Adventures of Thomas Fox and PitamakanSchultz, James Willard
General
The War-Trail Fort: Further Adventures of Thomas Fox and Pitamakan
Schultz, James Willard
Indians of North America -- Fiction
We had barely finished eating, when Robarre came to the door of our
lodge and asked my uncle to step outside. We all went out and found the
men lined up near the passageway in the barricade.
"Huh! Still more trouble!" my uncle muttered. Then to them he said,
"Well, my men, what is it?"
They looked at one another and at us hesitatingly, and several of them
nudged Henri Robarre. After much urging he stepped forward and said to
my uncle:
"Sare, M'sieu' Reynard! We hare mos' respec' hask dat we have hour
discharge. Dat we hembark for Fort Benton on ze firs' boat dat weel take
hus."
"Ha! You want to quit, do you? What is the trouble? Am I not treating
you well?"
"Wait! They are to have a big surprise," said Tsistsaki and turned from
us back to the lodges.
"Sare, M'sieu' Reynard," Henry continued, "eet ees no you. You hare one
fine mans. Les sauvages, Assiniboins, Crows, many more zat wee' come, he
are ze troub', m'sieu'."
"But you can't go back on your contracts!" my uncle exclaimed. "You all
agreed to come down here and work for me a year; you signed contracts to
that effect."
"Sare, honneur, we hare no sign eet ze pap' for fight heem, les
sauvages. We no sign eet ze pap' for work all days and watch for les
sacrés sauvages hall ze nights. Pretty soon we hall gets keel, m'sieu'.
We hare no pour le combat; we hare jus' pauvre cordeliers, engagés in ze
forts. M'sieu', you weel let hus go?"
I knew by the set expression of my uncle's face what his answer was to
be, but he never gave it. Out came the women; their eyes were blazing,
long braids were streaming, and they carried lodge-fire sticks in their
hands. They charged upon their men, crying, "Cowards! You shall not
desert our chief! Stay in the lodge and do our work; we'll build the
fort! Give us your clothing; you shall wear our gowns!"
Never shall I forget that scene! The poor engagés shrank from the
attack. Wild-eyed, they begged the women to desist, all the while
getting painful whacks from their sticks and the most terrible
tongue-lashing that could be given in the Blackfoot language! My uncle
and Abbott laughed at their plight, and Pitamakan and I actually rolled
upon the ground in a perfect frenzy of joy. When, at last, we sat up and
wiped our eyes, there were the engagés heading for their lodges, and
each one was followed by his woman, still shrieking out her candid
opinion of him.
"Well, I guess that settles it!" Abbott exclaimed.
It did! When my uncle called the men together and gave out the detail of
the night watch, not one of them made objection, and never again did
they ask for their discharge.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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