Adventure Magazine Cover — page 109: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

War Wampum CHAPTER VIII DOUBLE TROUBLE ALLOU was sorely worried as he greeted the new day. A Chip- pewa brought meat and quickly retreated. Rickards had slept soundly all night but was not entirely re- covered from his visit to the death-hut. He fumbled much with his arm. Ballou spoke to him twice before he would go and rob a neighboring fire of much of its reserve fuel. Meekly in vain endeavored to learn what the Conestoga had done with the four scalps.. Black Beaver gave him no heed but remained absorbed with the wooden mask, whispering to it and listening to its replies. The morning passed quietly, the Indians keeping,at a distance and abstaining from doing or saying anything that would give . offense. When Rickards made short excursions from the fire the warriors drew out of his path and stared in awe. He was both a child of the manitos and the proud possessor of Pontiac’s wampum. The purple-and-white string was a road-belt and a buckler. Had he carried the great chief’s totem mark, that of the Otter, his going and coming could not have been more punctiliously respected. If he halted by a kettle the warriors about to eat from it hastily withdrew. Did he take fuel from a brave’s hands, that man lowered his gaze and slunk back. Even Pontiac him- self enjoyed no greater degree of freedom, for there were rules of red etiquette that even the war-chief ‘could not violate. Rick- ards was.a law unto himself and did what- ever his whims suggested. : Meekly was fed last, being a prisoner. He asked Ballou— “‘What about trying some game to git the gal clear?” “T shall try one this morning.”’ He found a smooth piece of bark and with the burnt end of a stick scrawled upon it: To anny White Woman held Prisoner in the Sandusky camp. Writ Your name on the Back of this. Be ready at Anny minute. Whit hurt his arm & Couldn’t come.—B. Known to Indians as Trade Knife. 7 Sitting down beside Rickards he gave him the piece of bark and said: “Give that to the white woman. Bring back what she gives you. Don’t show it to 103 any one but the white woman and me.” Rickards frowned slightly as he struggled to comprehend; then dropped the bark inside his torn shirt and muttered: “White woman. White face. Yaller air.” “She is near here,” softly prompted Ballou. Rickards began fingering the string of Wampum, and for the first time since join- ing the forest-runners he smiled. He was like a child with a new plaything. He pulled the string forward to its full length so he could admire it more thoroughly. He moved it around his neck and allowed it to ripple- through his fingers. He seemed to be un- conscious of Ballou’s presence, and the dis- tressed lover despaired of his message ever being delivered. Rickards at last scrafmbled to his feet and wandered aimlessly through the camp. Had the situation been less tragic in its poten- tials the white men would have found the behavior of Pontiac’s warriors to be very amusing. The grotesque haste of the braves in leaving their fires and boiling kettles whenever Rickards shifted his course spoke eloquently of their superstitious fears. No savage would look on the.demented man’s face except as he peeped from behind the corner of a blanket. That Pontiac had been informed of Rick- ards’ eccentric wanderings about the camp was proven by the sudden appearance of criers, who moved rapidly from fire to fire and in different dialects repeated the war- chief’s edict. From all quarters of the big camp was shouted the warning: “Let no man touch the child of the manitos.— If the child strike and kill, let no man touch him. His path is open where his feet carry him. Pontiac has spoken.” That Pontiac lived up to the letter of this command was soon shown. The criers had barely completed their visits to the different fires when Rickards entered the chief’s hut. When he reappeared he had over his arm a blanket marked with the totem of the Otter. A few feet from the doorway he halted and stared stupidly at the blanket and then threw it on the ground, and turned his steps among the huts of the Wyandottes. Throughout that morning Ballou and the Beaver remained by their fire. Ballou and Meekly discussed from every angle the prob- lem of finding and liberating the girl. The Conestoga gave his attention to the magk, COnniclboooks (C@