ed chief, I give the
white-and-black horse that you rode. It is well that chiefs like
you should have good horses.
"Tomorrow our people will go a little way with you up the river. We
want you for our friends, for we know your medicine is strong. We know
that when we show this flag to other tribes--to the Otoes, the Omahas,
the Osages--they will fall on the ground and knock their heads on the
ground, as the black man did when the red-headed chief raised it above
him.
"The Great Father has sent us two chiefs who are young but very wise.
They can strike the buffalo. They can speak at the council. Weucha,
the Yanktonnais, says that they may go on. We know you will not lose
the trail. We know that you will come back. You are chiefs!"
CHAPTER II
THE MYSTERIOUS LETTER
Late in the night the Yanktonnais drums still sounded, long after a
dozen Sioux had spoken, and after the two white chieftains had arisen
and left the council fire. The people of the village were feasting
around half a hundred fires. The village was joyous, light-hearted,
and free of care. The hunt had been successful.
"Look at them, Will," said Meriwether Lewis, as they paused at the
edge of the bluff and turned back for a last glimpse at the savage
scene. "They are like children. I swear, I almost believe their lot in
life is happier than our own!"
"Tut, tut, Merne--moralizing again?" laughed William Clark, the
light-hearted. "Come now, help me get my eelskin about my hair. We may
need this red mane of mine further up the river. I trust to take it
back home with me, after all, now that we seem safe to pass these
Sioux without a fight. I am happy enough that our business today has
come out so well. I am a bit tired, and an old bull gave me a smash
with his horn this morning; so I am ready to turn into my blankets.
Are all the men on the roll tonight?"
"Sergeant Ordway reports Shannon still absent. It seems he went out on
the hunt this morning, and has not yet come back. I'll wait up a time,
I think, Will, to see if he comes in. It is rather a wild business for
a boy to lie out all night in such a country, with only the wolves for
company. Go you to your blankets, as you say. For me, I might be a
better sleeper than I am."
"Yes, that is true," rejoined Will Clark, rubbing his bruised leg. "It
is beginning to show on you, too, Merne. Isn't it enough to be
astronomer and doctor and bookkeeper and record-keeper and all that?
No, you thi
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