Deerfoot in The Mountains

Deerfoot the Shawanoe, Mul-tal-la the Blackfoot, and the twin brothers, George and Victor Shelton, had completed their long journey from the Ohio River to the Pacific slope, and, standing on an elevation near the Columbia, spent hours in looking out upon the face of the mightiest ocean of the globe. They feasted their vision on the magnificent scene, with the miles of wilderness, mountain, vale, river and Indian villages spread between their feet and the ocean.

It was a picture worth journeying across the continent to see. From beyond the convex world a ship had sailed up to view, its snowy sails looking at first like a tiny but growing cloud in the soft sky. As the craft drew steadily nearer, they saw it careening to one side under the impulse of the wind against the bellying canvas, while the curling foam at the bows spread out like a fan and dissolved in the clear waters beyond the stern.

Deerfoot had taken the glass after Mul-tal-la was through, and he stood for a long time gazing at the waste of waters. None spoke, for there was that in the scene and the occasion which made all thoughtful. The grandeur, the majesty, the vastness filled them with awe and held them mute. Finally, the Shawanoe lowered the instrument, and turning toward the boys, said gravely, as he pointed first to the east and then to the west:

"Yonder is the endless forest of wood, and yonder the endless forest of water; they shall all become the home of the white man."

"I don't doubt you are right," replied George Shelton, "but it will be hundreds of years after you and I are dead; there is room between here and the Ohio for millions upon millions, but where will they come from?"

"The white men will become like the leaves in the forest and the sands on the seashore; no one can count the numbers that will overspread the land; they will be everywhere."

"And what of your own people, Deerfoot?" asked Victor.

The dusky youth shook his head, as if the problem was beyond him.

"The two ought to live in peace side by side, for such is the will of the Great Spirit. The white man cannot become like the red man, but the red man may grow into the ways of the pale-faces, and all may be brothers, and so live till time shall be no more."

The theme was too profound for the youths, though it was manifest that the Shawanoe had given much thought to it. He added nothing, and while the day was young they walked back to the Columbia, re-entered the canoe and headed up stream.

Henceforward their work was different from that which they faced when descending the river. There were long stretches where, despite the current, the dusky boatmen found no special trouble in driving the craft eastward; but, as they progressed, the labor became severer, for the stream narrowed and the velocity of its flow became greater. The portages were long and toilsome, and, as the party advanced, many places were met where these portages became necessary on account of the rapidity of the current alone. All, however, bent resolutely to work, Victor and George taxing their strength to the utmost. Deerfoot seemed tireless, but he could never be inconsiderate to others. He could have outworn Mul-tal-la, though not till after the exhaustion of the boys, who agreed between themselves that the job was the biggest they had ever tackled; and yet their adult companions not only did the work the twins were doing, but swung the paddles in addition.

Our friends stayed one night at the Echeloot or Upper Chinook village, which they had visited when coming down the river. You will remember that it was there they first saw wooden houses made by Indians. The explorers were treated as hospitably as before, but, as you will also recall, the natives were Flatheads, and the sight of the misshapen skulls, towering at the rear like the ridge of a roof, was so disagreeable that the travelers were glad to turn their backs upon them.