Part 15

There was no time to consider. Around the tree he flew and disappeared like a passing shadow. At his heels the desperate grizzly, who had prolonged his unwilling fast upon the butte for days, not daring to attempt the descent, lunged heavily against the swaying cedar to save himself from falling headlong. He was half a second too late!

Feared-by-the-Bear had not yet been discovered. He clutched his long pipe and still pointed it toward the starry sky in silent supplication. Indeed, he had now more immediate cause for prayer. "Waugh!" uttered the hungry bear, and approached him with wide-open mouth.

The dizzy shelf on which the brave stood had been an eagle's nest for ages, but was just now unoccupied. Old Mato, the bear, seemed reluctant to advance, for on either side the sheer rock descended to a great distance. The warrior merely turned toward him the filled pipe which he had been offering to the "Great Mystery."

"To your spirit, O Bear! I offer this peace pipe, the same I have just offered to the Maker of us both. Will you partake of it, and commission me to be as brave and strong as yourself?" Thus speaking, and without showing any nervousness, he pointed the long stem of the pipe directly at the bear, upon which Mato growled ungraciously, but did not offer to come nearer. On the other hand, he showed no intention of leaving, and the way to escape was blocked.

Feared-by-the-Bear lighted his pipe with the "fire maker," and smoked deliberately. Then he kindled a little fire in the dry twigs of the old eagle's nest. This seemed to disturb the bear, whereupon he boldly threw a firebrand at him. The dry leaves caught and blazed fiercely. Mato ran for his life, and with this new fright behind him, found no serious difficulty in getting down the trail.

In due time, the faster left his position with all dignity, and approached the leaning cedar tree behind which his friend, as he supposed, had leaped to death. His first shuddering look over the brink showed him that the young man still hung suspended by his hands from a large branch. With much difficulty he was dragged up to solid rock, and his involuntary ordeal brought to a close. This event established the names and reputations of "Overcliff" and "Feared-by-the-Bear."

XXV--ETIQUETTE OF THE WIGWAM

The natural life of the Indian is saved from rudeness and disorder by certain well-understood rules and conventions which are invariably followed. Simple as these rules may seem, they have stood the test of time, and are universally respected. You may be able to adapt some of them to the government of your camp.

Each band has its chief, or leader, who governs through his council, and a herald to announce their decisions. Scouts and soldiers are appointed by the council. When several bands camp together, all know that there will be no change in the general order, aside from a few special and temporary rules. The clans simply enforce the usual codes conjointly, though any special service necessarily carries with it greater honor, because of serving a larger community.

If a member of any band commits an offence against one of another band, all the chiefs constitute the grand jury. Their verdict is attested by the grand council, while the two persons affected have no voice in the matter, except as they may be called upon to testify of what they know. The punishment decreed is strictly carried out without prejudice or favoritism. No boy or man can flee from the voice and hand of justice. Where can he go and be at peace with his own conscience?

I have said elsewhere that the tents are pitched in a circle, or group of circles. In case of a large band, their position in the circle is determined by their relative strength and reputation. The strongest band takes its place on the right of the entrance, and the next strongest takes the left. Opposite the entrance is the post of honor, which is accorded to the greatest chief or temporary head of the large camp.

Now the family circle in the wigwam is arranged on the same principle. The circle is symbolic of life, also symbolic of the day's journey. Woman rules the lodge; therefore on the right of the entrance is the position of the grandmother, if there is one. Next her are her granddaughters, the youngest nearest her. Then comes the grandfather, and next him the grown sons, if any; then the father, and between him and the mother, who occupies the first seat on the left of the entrance, are one or two of the smallest children. The guest is seated opposite the entrance.

It is a rule of the Indian home that the grandfather is master of ceremonies at all times. He is spokesman for the family if a stranger enters. If he is absent, the father or the husband speaks; all others may only smile in greeting. If both men are absent, the grandmother is spokes-woman; if she is away, the mother or the wife speaks, with as much dignity as modesty. If no older person is at home, the eldest son or daughter greets the guest, but if they have no brother to speak for them, and an entire stranger enters, the girls may properly observe silence. The stranger should explain the cause of his intrusion.

In the presence of a guest, promiscuous laughing or a careless attitude are not permitted. Rigid decorum and respectful silence are observed, and if any children are present, they must not stare at the stranger. All noisy play and merriment must be kept within familiar family circles, except on the occasion of certain games and dances.

In the matter of greetings, the men alone greet each other with "How!" No woman may use this greeting. Indians do not usually say "Thank you!" but acknowledge a gift or favor by using some appropriate term of relationship, as grandmother, little sister, cousin, etc. "Hi, hi!" or "Thank you!" is occasionally used, but only when one is especially grateful.

You should always address everybody in the clan by the regular term of relationship, rather than by name. If too distant, the word "Kólah," or friend, may be used. Perhaps a prettier word for the Boy Scouts to adopt is "Kechúwah," or comrade.

The serving of food is always orderly and polite. Guests are offered food, at whatever hour of the day they may appear, as, in the wilderness life, it is safe to assume that they are hungry. The mother of the family serves first the guest, if any, then her father, her husband, her mother, the children in order of age, and, of course, herself last of all. Each returns his empty dish to her with the proper term of relationship as a sign of thanks.

Silence, we believe, is the basis of order and decorum, and the peace and dignity of the camp must be maintained at all costs. Thus any emergency is quickly made known and is met with calmness and decision. All formal announcements are made by the mouth of the camp herald or crier.

Our Indian "Boy Scouts" are the immediate and unofficial guardians of our safety. If any one approaches, they quickly pass the unspoken signal from boy to boy, without letting the stranger know that he is discovered; and if there is any doubt as to his identity and character, that, too, is indicated, so that the experienced may see to it before he comes too near. The reports of the returning hunters are given by means of certain calls, so that the home folks may be prepared to receive them.

For instance, when a bear is killed, the boys announce it with the peculiar call, "Wah, wah, wah!" in chorus. If it is a deer, they cry: "Woo koo hoo´! woo koo hoo´!" In welcoming the buffalo hunters, the boys hold one another by the shoulders and imitate the lowing of the herds, finishing off with a shrill whistle. Possibly your college and class yells were founded upon the Indian game signals.

XXVI--TRAINING FOR SERVICE

One must have a trained mind, if only in order to reach the height of one's physical possibilities, and all-round efficiency depends much upon the kind of training described in the foregoing talks. The "School of Savagery" is no haphazard thing, but a system of education which has been long in the building, and which produces results. Ingenuity, faithfulness, and self-reliance will accomplish wonderful things in civilized life as well as in wild life, but, to my mind, individuality and initiative are more successfully developed in the out-of-door man. Where the other man is regarded more than self, duty is sweeter and more inspiring, patriotism more sacred, and friendship is a true and eternal bond.

The Indian is trained in the natural way, which means that he is kept in close contact with the natural world. Incidentally, he finds himself, and is conscious of his relation to all life. The spiritual world is real to him. The splendor of life stands out pre-eminently, while beyond all, and in all, dwells the Great Mystery, unsolved and unsolvable, except in those things which it is good for his own spirit to know.

The good things of earth are not his to hold against his brothers, but they are his to use and enjoy together with his fellows, to whom it is his privilege to bring them. In seeking thus, he develops a wholesome, vigorous body and mind, to which all exertion seems play, rather than painful toil for possession's sake. Happy, rollicking, boy man! Gallant, patriotic, public-spirited--in the Indian is the lusty youth of humanity. He is always ready to undertake the impossible, or to impoverish himself to please his friend.

Most of all he values the opportunity of being a minute-man--a Scout! Every boy, from the very beginning of his training, is an embryo public servant. He puts into daily practice the lessons that in this way become part of himself. There are no salaries, no "tips," no prizes to work for. He takes his pay in the recognition of the community and the consciousness of unselfish service. Let us have more of this spirit of the American Indian, the Boy Scout's prototype, to leaven the brilliant selfishness of our modern civilization!

THE END

BOOKS FOR CHILDREN

CHARLES A. and ELAINE G. EASTMAN