North Dakota State College of Science - Agawasie Yearbook (Wahpeton, ND)

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T HE AG A W A S I E 31 glances straining forward toward lands unvisited. This was the heyday of spring on virgin plains,—April in the air, April in the blood-Day after day, day after day. the two lone canoes climbed the river, winding through an unchanging scene—scattered bank-side groves and emerald plains—always the same, but always fair with a broad and generous beauty. Now and then a sluggish stream which had crawled torpidly for hundreds of miles through the rich valley, added to the river its little store. Now and then a herd of buffalo galloped across the prairie, caught from afar the scent of man, swerved and thundered away. Game, large and small, was abundant. Now and then they stopped to stalk water fowl or to find, a short distance inland, a rabbit or a prairie hen to keep them company at dinner. Indians they saw only thrice on the whole journey. Two of these bands they saw from afar, gleams of distant bronze on fleet ponies, keen in pursuit of herds of buffalo. The other band awaited them, one morning armed and menacing, on a long beach which sloped down to the western shore. Both parties were startled. Here, as the white folk turned a sharp curve, about two hundred yards before them, were about twenty-five braves just about to renew their hunt. These, seeing the two canoes, thronged at once to the waters edge, arrows fitted to bow, spears poised for a cast. Vanston looked over his shoulder and saw Marie turning her paddle, about to put for shore. “Straight on,” he called, driving his own canoe forward without changing stroke. Nearer and nearer they came and yet no arrow was loosed from the string, no spear was thrown. Nearer still they came, and the Indians still waited, statue-like upon the shore, showing externally nothing of the surprise which they felt at the appearance of these white folk of whom they had heard but whose like they had never before seen. Vanston, who had previously told his daughter to wait within her canoe, drove his own on the beach at the very feet of the Indians. Meeting directly and constantly the threatening glances of those in the midst of the group, lie raised one arm aloft in a gesture combining authority and salute and began to speak slowly in the language of the Sioux. A tall brave who was directly facing Vanston. gave a quick signal. It might have been death; it was peace. Arrows were withdrawn, spears were lowered. A spirit may go out of a man, with power to still the passions of a multitude. But in that man there must be inherent magnanimity—greatness of soul. A mean-spirited man goes forth into the wilderness and returns not; and his bones make white a spot in the vast unknown which the green, waving grasses cover. But the courtly and imperious La Salle, the hold and eager Sieur de Tonti, the saintly Marquetts, or the just and austere Du Luth might have gone alone from the Sault to the great mountains, unharmed as if a legion of angels were about them.

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30 THE AGAWASIE ward— tall and alertly poised. Unlike most of his companions his face was usually smooth shaven, and now its regular, clear-cut profile seemed magnified against a moonlit background. Most of the voyageurs were men who thought in terms of space, men whose veins were aflame with a desire toward unknown places. Vanston was one of the few who thought in terms of time and. though enjoying fully the adventure of the moment thought also of later generations. II. CAPTIVITY That night there was a thunderstorm. A mighty wind rushed and swirled and roared over the prairie; the heavens were opened and poured forth cataracts of rain; the trees within the narrow grove bent and creaked, hardly maintaining themselves against the attack. Storm may be fearful in towns and cities but its proper domains where it clothes itself in the full panoply of its terrible splendor are the sea—and the prairie. A hundred times the vast expanse was weirdly revealed. For hours amid the lightning, the artillery of heaven crashed and reverberated as if the battle of the angels were joined again. Cunningly fitted in a natural depression, the shelter built by the travelers withstood the tempest. Adventure is of many kinds: quest of treasure by sea or land, going forth to battle, searching afar for tilings previously hidden, encountering multitudes or perils for the sake of a high purpose,—“in perils of rivers, in perils of robbers, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in labor and travail, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in perils often, in cold and nakedness. There are adventurers also of the spirit; and to be alone amid storm where the reign of silence is overthrown by the loosened powers from above, to feci oneself a part of this convulsed element, and try to pierce with eyes of the spirit into the mysteries of nature unchained: this also is adventure. At sometime between midnight and morning, Marie loosened for a moment the buffalo hangings of the shelter, and saw her father standing on the river bank, careless of drenching torrents, careless of lightning and thunder-crash, looking westward. Little surprised, she dropped the curtain and returned to an attempt at slumber. This father of hers, she knew, was not like the others of his trade, but a creature of strange moods, a thinker amid the wilderness. Out of such moods empires have risen. The sun rose, next morning, into a cloudless sky. The travelers could see ahead of them several turns of the river, yellow from its burden of clay, and now transformed beneath the morning sun into a woven ribbon of old gold. Through April groves it ran. and through limitless rich, green plains.diamonded afa»- with myriad rain-drops. Marie and her father had breakfast and then renewed the journey up the river, vigorous from the lively air which the storm had cleared.

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THE AGAWASIE 32 Why? That mystery of personality has often been wondered at, but never told. The parley might have taken half an hour. Fortunately this hunting party proved to be some of those very Wahpetons which the voyageurs had come to seek. Vanston would seek the chief. Very well, his new friends would give up their hunt and be his honorable escort. The travelers, therefore, continued up the river in their canoes, the Indians at the same time riding slowly along the bank. The ceremony of escort was nothing new to John Vanston. He knew that, in effect, he and his daughter were captives. III. PIERKE FITZURSE It happens often that the presence of danger lessens .rather than increases fear. Marie had been with her father before on long journeys across the wilderness, and, during these journeys, often in the territory of possible enemies; and she had always lived in forts and villages where the inhabitants were continually on guard against attack. Accustomed therefore to this constant menace, as to a native element, she had no fears at this time, although this was her first meeting with Indians who had made their hostility evident. She was accustomed also from early youth to that constant exercise without hardship which makes for what the athlete calls “perfect condition” and this physical vitality brings with it a sense of bouy-ancy and daring. Vanston, on the other hand, who never worried about his own safety, reproached himself for bringing Marie into this perilous venture. That love which had formerly been given to two— her mother and herself—was now centered on Marie alone. However he soon dismissed his fears and gave his whole attention to plans against whatever peril the near future might bring. The Indians usually kept aloof from the travelers, but, appearing now and then along the shore, maintained an intermittent but sure watch. One evening after Vanston and Marie had eaten and made camp they saw coming toward them, Gray Eagle, the leader of the band, a son of Chief Great Wolf. At a nod from her father Marie withdrew to her tent. Gray Eagle and Vanston sat together on the shore, smoking continually, talking briefly at times, but for the most part keeping a watchful silence according to the custom of men to whom “small talk” is unknown. Gray Eagle was tall and well-featured, and. to Vanston’s notion not especially malicious in temper. It was he whose signal had saved the white folk in the recent encounter down the river. Vanston told him whatever things he thought necessary about himself and his mission, and asked a number of questions about the Wahpetons, their recent wars, and their present encampments. Gray Eagle answered briefly and cautiously, mentioning several times a white man whom he sometimes called “Black Bear” and sometimes by a name which sounded like “Fiurse.” Joy and hope began to rise in Vanston’s heart.