Red Plume — page 96: what you’re looking at

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

9 RED PLUME. ° cipated in the easy victory over the Néz Percés, returned with shouts of triumph, bringing in a number of horses. They gave glowing accounts of their great achievement, and said - that the rest of the warriors would soon arrive with a great booty. There was great joy and excitement in the camp, and the crusty old fellow with the long name took advantage of the opportunity to vent his spite upon Eben, and.:to turn the popular tide against him. He publicly proclaimed that. the pretended medicine-man lied, that rain had fallen, and yet the war-party had been gloriously successful. If he had made the false prophecy willfully, he was a traitor to the tribe; if not, he was a base impostor; in any event, He: was a liar, and. de- served to die. lo, The old fellow’s harangue anaidciceds such an impression upon the men, that they would have immediately immolated the unfortunate Yankee, had it not been for the interference of the women, headed by As-moo-tah, who had no idea of per- mitting the secret of manufacturing beauty to go out of the tribe. The female influence was felt among the Blackfeet, as well as among civilized people, but the contest was a serious one, and it was donbtful which side would win, when the re- turn of the defeated and pnrsued warriors changed the scene, Nothing more was said against Eben’s powers of prophecy, and-he was allowed to go his way in peace. He was glad to escape from this danger, but felt that he was immediately threatened with another, as a dead, or wounded man might, at any moment, be brought to him for treatment. The Blackfeet, however, had no time to look after their dead or Wounded, or to think af their medicine-man. Eben soon heard a'‘continual firing and yelling, and was aware that the battle between the whites and the red-men had com- menced. As it was uncertain which side would win, he de- voted his attention to his patient, who was rapidly expiring. As he bent over the couch,/and watched the chief’s feeble struggles for life, a warrior looked in, and asked about Nip- muck-we. “He is gettin’ along purty well,’ answered Eben, The Indian turned away, and the Fat Bear breathed his last breath. | As Eben waited, uncertain what to do, he heard firing from “ comicbooks.conm