The Daughter of the Nez Percés. A novel

Preface

. This story of Indian life is strictly founded on fact. Those acquainted with Indian war fare in the United States know well the name of ' Nez Perce Joseph,' who is still alive. For this reason a few words of explanation may not be amiss, lest it might be thought that the writer wished to claim a historical value for his tale which it does not possess. Much controversy has arisen in America over the troubles of the Nez Perce tribe. It has not been my intention to enter the lists. My sole object has been to describe with what vividness I could certain scenes in the PREFA CE vi life of a chief who, whether right or wrong, is unquestionably one of the most remarkable men his race has ever produced. With the details of Joseph's family life I have taken liberties, and in the concluding chapters there are incidents which are not historical.

But while admitting this, I may be allowed, perhaps, to say that in the main I have closely followed the true course of events ; while, with reference to Joseph him self, it has been my earnest endeavour to present him as the man he was, and not as a mere ideal of what he should have been. Whether I have succeeded in this I leave to the judgment of men who knew him then as a war-chief, and who know him now as a peaceable citizen, living in Washington Terri tory, with a few of his warriors still about him. Arthur Paterson. CONTENTS OF VOL. I CHAPTER PAGE I. IN-MUT-TU-YAH-LAT-LAT - - - I II. AN INDIAN GIRL - - - - 28 III. 'to be taken dead or alive' - - 46 IV. THE BAPTISM OF FIRE - - -62 V. JOSEPH'S REVENGE ; - - "79 VI. RELATIVES AND FRIENDS - - "93 VII. THE SPY - 128 VIII. FRIENDSHIP ----- _$j IX.

SALEM'S STAKE, AND THE RESULT - - 1S1 X. ' THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE ' - - 209 XI. CHECKMATE ----- 228 XII. CALM BEFORE STORM - - - 247 XIII. THE BATTLE OF THE BIG HOLE - -

Chapter I. In-mut-tu-yah-lat-lat

It was sultry enough and drowsy enough to send a hungry mosquito to sleep. A thunder storm was within speaking distance, and the heaviness of the air upon the eyelids, lips and nostrils might be compared to an atmo spheric feather-bed. The place where this thunder-storm was about to break was the town of Springvale, twenty miles from the city of Cleveland, VOL. I. I Ohio. Springvale was more like a quiet suburb than a town, for a good service of cars carried all its active inhabitants for shopping, business, and pleasure into Cleveland. The social intercourse of Springvale was confined to mild tea-drinkings among elderly ladies of conservative habits, and a Shakespeare Society and a Browning Society among the younger maidens, from which men were rigidly excluded. Springvale, however, had one distinctive feature, which gave it an importance that even Cleveland did not possess- — a college for young ladies which had been established there for twenty years, and was universally looked upon as the Ladies' College of the State.

The Principal and founder of the college was one Miss Melinda Crabbe, a lady of a strength of character so commanding that all Springvale owned her influence, and the seventy girls who resided under her roof bent IN-MUT-TU-YAH-LAT-LAT 3 to her rule as submissively as though in com plete ignorance of the rights claimed by free born American women. The college was a solid square building of brown stone, standing twenty yards away from the road in dignified seclusion, and surrounded by a garden and plantation of two acres. It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and from the windows, wide open in this hot June weather, came the hum of voices of busy girls. In a room to the right of the front-door, a score of young ladies were busy with arithmetic. Their mistress was Miss Crabbe's resident teacher, Miss Winnetka Nez Perce, called Miss Netty by the girls, and commonly supposed, from her name, to be the daughter of a French emigrant, driven from his native country by the Revo lution.

Miss Netty was correcting essays. She had set her class a sum to work out, and was employing herself during the interval in perusing little piles of foolscap containing somewhat startling opinions upon the Con stitution of the United States. The task of correcting school-girls' essays in an atmosphere of feather-beds is not an easy one, and would have been almost im possible for anyone but Miss Nez Perce. This girl of twenty years, however, had one quality more strongly developed in her nature than any other — self-control. She was oppressed by more than the heat and closeness of the air. The life at Springvale, always uncongenial, had of late become almost insupportable to her, and this day her spirits were at their lowest ebb ; but not a sign of the depression appeared in her face, and no pause was made in her work.

The clock struck half-past four, the sum was nearly finished, and Miss Netty had laid aside her sixth essay, when there came the low rumble of distant thunder, first herald IN-MUT-TU-YAH-LAT-LAT 5 of the storm which would purify the air. The girls paused in their work to listen, and even Miss Nez Perce" raised her head, for there is always something ominous in the first roll of thunder, as in the tap of a drum before battle. It passed, the heat became more oppressive than before, and Miss Netty took up her seventh bundle of MS. But now she heard another sound, and the pen had to be laid aside again. This was a woman's voice, speaking in shrill remonstrance ; then the patter of hurrying feet in the hall, and Sally, the principal help of Miss Melinda's establishment, threw open the door with a bounce.

Sally was excited. Her face, naturally rather yellow, was now very red, and her speech came in sharp half breathless ejaculations. 'You's wanted, Miss Netty — quick! No; I can't tell ye for what. A man sez he knows ye, and wants a peek at yer face He'd ha' passed me as if I were a umbrellastand, but I set him back — yes, with my right hand — I did. Now, come smart, or he'll be in here 'fore ye know where you are' Here was a pretty speech to make to an assistant - mistress in a college for young ladies. Miss Nez Perce could not help smiling, and the class audibly giggled. ' A man, Sally — for me ! What can you mean ?' 'The sac' I speak,' was the tart rejoinder. ' Oh, Lordy, Lordy ! I hear him coming now, quiet as a tom-cat a-mousing. I'll see Miss Melinda 'fore we're murdered alive, I will.' Sally was an excitable maiden, apt to lose her head easily, and the girls, expecting a joke, were in the throes of trying to suppress a merry peal of laughter at her expense, when they saw something which took their breath away, and caused many to scream in sheer alarm.

A man stood in the doorway of an appear ance so extraordinary that the girls stared IN-M UT-TU-YA H-LA T-LA T 7 at him spell-bound, and even those who had screamed sat as still as mice. In figure this man was tall and powerfully made, particu larly broad in the shoulders. He wore the dress of a farmer — brown over-alls covering long boots, a coat and waistcoat of black cloth, and white shirt with abundance of wristband and collar. But here ended all resemblance to any human being the girls of Miss Crabbe's college had ever seen before. Above the collar was a face as rugged, hard, and red as a bit of old sandstone rock. There was no hair on the face except a pair of short black eyebrows, shading eyes set wide apart, and bright and keen as sword points ; but above his forehead was a thick black tuft, like the crest of a bird, and falling over his breast below the collar of his coat and covering his ears, were two long plaits of hair, ornamented at the ends with thongs of leather fastened with silk.

It was also seen by the girls nearest the door that a THE DAUGHTER OF THE NEZ PERCES 8 broad lock of loose hair fell over his shoulders behind, half-way to his waist. The sharp eyes of the young ladies noticed all these things before they had regained their breath. Then they looked at Miss Netty, and their surprise became still more intense, for she seemed neither frightened nor angry, but left her chair to meet this most extraordinary person with a deep colour on her face, and her eyes shining with strong feeling. As for the stranger, he took no more notice of the startled girls than if they had been pigeons. He gave one quick, compre hensive glance round the room, and then turned his attention wholly to their mistress. When she came towards him, he crossed his hands on his breast, and, standing perfectly still, looked at her fixedly.

For the first time within the knowledge of her pupils Miss Nez Perce lost her self control. So agitated was she, that she IN-MUT-TU-YAH-LAT-LAT 9 could not speak at all for a moment, and when the words came they were not what she meant to say. ' Who — whom do you wish to see ? Miss Crabbe will be here — ' She paused, for the man had raised his hand as if to put the question aside. ' I have come many a mile,' he answered, in a deep guttural tone with a curious accent and abrupt intonation. ' Oh yes, one thousand mile and more. My heart was very sore, and told me to come. But it was foolish — the heart of a woman. I only came to see my little daughter, and she is not living in this world.' He spoke slowly ; his body was rigid, and his eyes intently searching the face before him. The girls could scarcely breathe, and the room was as still as death.

Winnetka drew nearer, stopped, then, with a sudden impulsive action, stretched THE DA UGHTER OF THE NEZ PERCES 10 out both her hands towards this queer copper-faced man, with a word upon her lips which the girls could not catch. A swift movement, and he had laid his hands upon her shoulders, hers resting upon his breast. ' She is not dead, and my heart was true. It has brought me to my little daughter Wynn.' Crash ! There was a peal of thunder which made every beam in the house quiver ; then a swish of tropical rain, and a gust of pure damp air which swTept into the heated room through the open windows ; while at the same moment Miss Melinda Crabbe made her appearance at the door in a state of mind only to be dimly con ceived by ordinary people. Miss Melinda stood speechless for one awful minute, scarcely able to believe the evidence of her senses.

It had grown dark, with the clouds dashing their contents to IN-MUT-TU-YAH-LAT-LAT 11 earth to the music of the thunder, and the curious face of the stranger and the grotesqueness of his long hair were more uncanny than ever ; and though the man heard a rustle of a dress behind him, he took no notice of Miss Crabbe, but muttered soft words of endearment in a strange tongue, and stroked Miss Nez Perce's hair with his great red hand. Miss Melinda found her breath at last. She was a little woman, barely four feet ten inches high, but she was the pluckiest soul alive. ' What does this mean, sir ? Let go that young lady instantly — instantly, I say. Good heavens, Netty ! is he a madman ? What are you doing ? I presume he is dangerous. Courage, my dear ; the police will be here in one moment.' The word ' police ' made Winnetka start, and checked a smile which her mistress's excitement had brought into her face. ' Oh, don't you know who it is ?

But you never saw him.' Miss Crabbe retreated a pace, and gasped. The expression of her face changed from anger to horror and disgust. ' You don't mean — you cannot signify — that he is the Indian, your father ? How terrible !' The man stiffened as if he had been struck, and his hands dropped to his sides. The lines of his face, which had softened wonderfully when he felt Winnetka's touch, hardened into stone, and his eyes gleamed beneath their short black brows in a way which nearly made the girls scream again. ' Madam's words are true. My name is In-mut-tu-yah-lat-lat,* whom the white men call Joseph, and I am chief of the Nez Perce tribe. I have darkened madam's door to satisfy a craving of my soul and a great thirst. I am refreshed, and will now * Thunder rolling over the mountains. IN-MUT-TU-YAH-LA T-LA T 13 go my way.

Madam will not see my face again.' Miss Melinda coughed and shook her head. She was quite cool now, and faced the situation bravely. 'It is not your fault, and there is no reason for precipitate departure. The child will wish to talk to you awhile. Do not look at me as if I were a scalp, Mr. Joseph, if you please ; you will stay to tea. Oh dear ! Sally is in «the hall with the men. I must stop them. Netty, take your father to the private parlour. Girls, be good enough to resume your places at once and attend to your work. I will be back in ten minutes to examine it. My poor, poor Netty!' The last words the little lady muttered under her breath as she sped into the passage to dismiss two policemen, and a following of boys who were collected in the garden spite of the pouring rain, hoping for a ' turn-up ' of some interest, as the strange arrival had been seen to enter Miss Crabbe's gate, and his appearance had put all idlers in Springvale on the alert.

Miss Melinda always acted with great quickness and decision. In the space of half an hour her household was completely tranquillized. Chief Joseph followed his daughter upstairs and disappeared from the view of the household into Miss Melinda's private apartments ; the girls, though beside themselves with curiosity, were too well trained to disobey a direct injunction from Miss Melinda, and were presently dismissed to their rooms to talk themselves hoarse and prepare for tea ; while Sally, who was more excited than anyone else, received a severe reprimand for forgetting some pies that were baking in the oven, in the pleasure of detailing to Moses Jonathan, the negro boy who cleaned the boots, the astounding intelligence of Miss Netty's parentage. 'The queerest and extraordinariest thing,' IN-M UT-TU- YA H-LA T-LA T 15 quoth Sally in conclusion, while the pies began to smell and grow as black as the boy's face, ' that a human critter ever heerd on in life.

It is hardly believable. Why, Netty's white as me, or whiter. She's the form, and the manners, and the skin of a white. Pretty, I call her, with her black, glossy hair, them large brown eyes, and a figure trim and slender as a weepin'-willer and straight as a pine. But thar ! well, I told ye his colour — red as the rust on my copper. And he has that in his face which kind of splits you in two when he looks at ye. Oh, it's rare awful ! Suppose he should want to carry her off! I dare guess he will. Well, there's one thing, Miss Melinda's good to stop that. Ugh! I'll dream of him a year. If he stays anywheres round here, I'll go an' see mother in Chicago. I'd go mad, staring, stark, I would, if I had to see his face once a day.' At this point Miss Melinda made her appearance, and the agitation of Sally's mind about the pies drove out a good deal of her dread of Chief Joseph.

She was sent to lay the table in Miss Melinda's room, and found the Chief there, alone, reading a book. Later on in the evening she remarked to the boy : ' Re-el-ly, Moses Jonathan, an Indian can put on quiet ways when among white folk, like he puts on a black coat. When I peeked into his face sideways, it were not so bad looking, all but the colour.' Miss Melinda kept away from her room until tea-time — an interval of more than an hour. She sat with her girls, she attended to a hundred-and-one little household duties, and she finished correcting the essays that Winnetka had left to go to her father. She was not idle or unoccupied for a moment, and the girls, watching her like a troop of young lynxes, saw nothing to give them the impression that anything unusual had happened, IN-MUT-TU-YAH-LAT-LAT 17 But in reality Miss Melinda was in a state of extreme restlessness.

A fear oppressed her from which she tried to escape, but which came nearer and nearer until it grew into certainty. She thought of a day sixteen years ago, when a great responsibility was laid upon her shoulders. On that day, Win netka, a child of four, had been brought to her door by an old friend, and had never left her since. This friend was a farmer in Oregon, and he told a tale little short of marvellous to the quiet school-mistress. Six years before, he said, a neighbouring tribe of Indians had raided upon the settlers. They were in terrible straits, for the troops were far away, and their own numbers very few. In this extremity succour came from an unexpected quarter. The Nez Perces, a friendly tribe, under their war-chief, Young Joseph, as he was then called, had taken up the white man's cause, the marauding Indians were 2 vol. I. severely beaten, and the settlement saved.

Close friendship between whites and Nez Perces followed, and, after this, marriage between Joseph and a white woman, the farmer's sister. It was a terrible business. Her relations tried to make her disown her husband, and when she refused, turned their backs upon her. Nothing more was known of her life until one day when Joseph appeared at the ranch of his brother-in-law with a little white girl, and a message from his wife, who lay dying of fever, praying that the child might be brought up in the East. Jack Thorne, the ranchman, was a bachelor, but he remembered an old friend ship which once existed between his sister and Miss Melinda, and, travelling to Ohio, he asked her to undertake the charge for ' auld lang syne' Miss Melinda was a lonely woman, and was more than willing to take the girl, and intended to adopt her.

To the good lady's IN-MUT-TU-YAH-LA T-LA T 19 surprise, however, in six months' time she received a letter in crabbed but legible handwriting from the Chief himself, enclosing a hundred dollars — a communication which was repeated regularly twice a year. No address was ever given, so no acknowledg ment was possible ; but the purpose of the payments was clear enough, and from the hour when Winnetka became old enough to understand the position of affairs, the dearest wish of her heart was to see the father who had remembered her so well. Miss Melinda thought of all these things this evening as she bustled about her work, and gave orders, and arranged the household machinery ; and then she thought of the future, and her heart was chilled. When tea was served at six o'clock for Miss Melinda, Winnetka, and her father, the little lady was outwardly serene, and her greeting to the Chief, who rose to receive her, was almost cordial.

A strange sight, these three— Chief Joseph carving beef for his hostess and his daughter, and sipping at his delicate china cup, as if to the manner born ; Miss Melinda, talkative, and with the tact and readiness of an American woman, continuing to find subjects of con versation in which the Chief could join ; Winnetka, very quiet and silent, playing with the food upon her plate, and speaking with a peculiar softness of tone whenever she addressed her mistress ; all three con scious to their finger-tips that they were standing on the edge of a fully-charged mine, which wanted but one spark to blow up at any moment. After tea Miss Melinda threw open the windows, and proposed that they should sit on the balcony, inviting the Chief to smoke. The storm was over, and the air delicious. They went out, and disposed themselves in rocking-chairs, the Chief drawing a cio-ar IN-MUT-TU-YAH-LA T-LA T 21 from an elegant little case.

All was ready now, and, with a short characteristic cough. Miss Melinda proceeded to apply the match. ' You have journeyed a great distance, Chief.' ' Madam is right. The valley of the Clear Water and the Snake, my home, lies behind the setting sun.' Miss Melinda frowned. Indian figures of speech irritated her. ' When do you propose to return ?' Chief Joseph seemed in no hurry to reply. He played with his cigar, and watched the rings of smoke which he slowly puffed away dissolve above his head before he answered. The next day that is coming.' To-morrow ?' I mean that.' You do not propose to stay long. ' I should be on the trail to-night, but my daughter will go with me, according to her words, so I must wait more hours.' Miss Melinda caught her breath. It was what she had expected, but for the moment she felt stunned by the blow.

Then she found Winnetka's arms round her neck — almost the first time they had ever been there, for caresses were not a part of Miss Melinda's scheme of education. ' It is true. I must go. He is lonely, and his life is very sad. You have been good ; I know how good. But you can do without me, for there are so many better teachers, while no one can take my place with — with father.' How sweetly the words sounded! Miss Melinda, though cut to the heart — the warm heart which beat beneath the crust of her prim mannerisms — felt a thrill of sympathy. She saw that a side of the girl's nature, which had been sleeping all these years, had now sprung into vivid life and being. But this made the trial of parting with her no easier to bear, and there were many consider- IN-MUT-TU-YAH-LAT-LAT 23 ations to be thought of beside sentimental ones.

Miss Melinda's soul soon rose in arms, and she pounced upon Chief Joseph with quivering lips. ' This, then, is what you came for. You wish to drag your child, who knows no more of you and your ways than she does of wickedness and war, from comfort and safety to all the miseries and horrors which killed her mother ! And after all your promises, too ! I thought you chiefs valued your words, if you valued nothing else! It is atrocious, savage cruelty !' Joseph tossed his cigar away as if it had burnt him. ' The tongue of the white woman,' he said, in deliberate tones, ' is sharper than the tooth of a rattlesnake. Yet it may not always kill. Let madam listen. I promised Blue eyes, my wife, that until my daughter was a woman she should live with the people of her mother. This was my oath to Blue-eyes, as she lay dying of the fever which the whites had spread among my nation.

Before we saw white men we had no fevers. We had few cares. We lived and hunted, fought and died true men. But the whites, with the tongues that lied, and hands that smote in the dark, and souls that feared the strong and trampled on the weak, came among us one bad day, and stole our lands, and would let us all die if we would die, so they might sell our bones for gold. ' See, then, I promised, and I have kept my word, and I have paid my money, so that none should say, "He gave his child away to be fed by others." I have not seen her all these days. You thought I knew not how to come? Bah! an Indian knows more than a white man ever thinks. I would not come until she was a woman. Now, though I am here, it is not to take her away. I am leaving the valleys of the Clear Water and the Snake. I IN-MUT-TU-YA H-LA T-LA T 25 go far from there ; I shall never see my home again.

Before I go I wish to see my daughter, and so I am come. But for no more than that. When she knew all this, she opened her arms to me, and she said, " Take me back to my own people ; I will live and die with them and you." I tell her then, and now I tell again : our life is very hard. There is always much work, and sometimes little food. And when we travel far away there may be no food. And she is white, not red. All this I tell in plain words. But she shakes her head. Now, madam, you tell her in your words of cutting steel ; I speak no more. She may stay here if she likes. But if her heart is to come with me, I will take her because she is my daughter whom I love. She will be no squaw, but a chief. Not a war-chief, under stand, but one who sits in council in peace times. Now I am done. You have heard all my words, and so has she' He sat back in his chair as he finished speaking, folding his arms ; and though by direct questions, and then by stinging asides, Miss Melinda tried to draw him into argument or explanation, he refused to say another word.

It was in vain that she asked where he was going, what he was going to do, what sort of men his chiefs were, and what would happen to Winnetka if he died. He sat there motionless, and did not seem to hear her ; and at last Miss Melinda was fain to address Winnetka herself. But here she fared no better. Winnetka listened with outward respect, but when the attack was over she made her reply in a steady, determined voice : ' Much of what you say may be true — I do not know ; but I am going with father because I feel that I want to help him to bear his trials and share his life. I have read a great deal about our race, and I have IN-MUT-TU-YAH-LA T-LA T 27 made up my mind for a long time to do this. I know all about the hardships, and do not dread them in the least.' She paused, then threw herself on her knees and embraced Miss Melinda. ' Does it seem very ungrateful ?

Truly, I am only trying to be just and do right. If you think I am unjust, tell me. You are very just yourself. I wish to be like you — I wish to do my duty.' And Miss Melinda! Well— well, she could not speak just then. She bent her grey head over the fair face and kissed it. Then, with something very like a sob, she rose and left the father and daughter to themselves, and, going to her own room, knelt down and prayed for the welfare of the brave child, who had been her own for so many years, but who now, for weal or woe, was hers no longer.

Chapter II. An Indian Girl

On the cars, flying westward, the old home in Springvale far behind, and Winnetka's thoughts flying faster than the train to the new life which lay before. This journey, or at least the first part of it, always seemed to Winnetka in after-days more like a dream than reality. It was the first long journey she could remember, for nothing remained in her memory of the life before Springvale, except a recollection of her father's face Again, nothing could be more different from the busy routine of the daily life at college than the rest and idle- [28 ] ness on the cars ; and lastly, strangest of all, there was the companionship of her father. Someone was watching her, caring for her, waiting upon her, and thinking of her every moment of the day. Winnetka did not sleep much during the four nights spent on the Oregon Pacific Rail way.

Every comfort she could have was at her disposal, beginning with a berth in the sleeper ; but for hours after her father had left her with a gentle pressure of the hands, and a whispered ' Sleep well, my daughter Wynn,' she would lie with her curtains drawn back from the window, looking out upon the flying landscape, and thinking of the new life which was coming to her in so wonderful a way. In imagination she saw the warriors in their war-paint ; the squaws in blankets, with babies at their backs ; and her heart yearned with great longing to be among them, to learn their language and help them to lead a better life. THE DAUGHTER OF THE NEZ PERCES 30 She talked about this to her father, and though sometimes a dry smile would come into his face when her enthusiasm carried her away in high flights of castle building, he listened patiently and said nothing to dis courage her, but would pat her hand, and answer : ' Good girl, my Wynn.