were the slaves selected that were to be killed that my soul might have
company. There were seven of these slaves, for my father was rich and
powerful, and it was fit that I, his son, should have proper burial. These
CHILDREN OF THE FROST
70
slaves we had got in war from the Mukumuks, who live down the Yukon.
On the morrow, Skolka, the shaman, would kill them, one by one, so that
their souls should go questing with mine through the Unknown. Among
other things, they would carry my canoe till we came to the big river, rapid
with bad water. And there being no room, and their work being done, they
would come no farther, but remain and howl forever in the dark and
endless forest.
“And as I looked on my fine warm clothes, and my blankets and weapons
of war, and as I thought of the seven slaves to be slain, I felt proud of my
burial and knew that I must be the envy of many men. And all the while
my father, the Otter, sat silent and black. And all that day and night the
people sang my death-song and beat the drums, till it seemed that I had
surely died a thousand times.
“But in the morning my father arose and made talk. He had been a fighting
man all his days, he said, as the people knew. Also the people knew that it
were a greater honor to die fighting in battle than on the soft skins by the
fire. And since I was to die anyway, it were well that I should go against
the Mukumuks and be slain. Thus would I attain honor and chieftainship
in the final abode of the dead, and thus would honor remain to my father,
who was the Otter Wherefore he gave command that a war party be made
ready to go down the river. And that when we came upon the Mukumuks I
was to go forth alone from my party, giving semblance of battle and so be
slain.”
“Nay, but hear, O White Man!” cried Mutsak, unable longer to contain
himself. “Skolka, the shaman, whispered long that night in the ear of the
Otter and it was his doing that Lone Chief should be sent forth to die. For
the Otter being old, and Lone Chief the last of his sons, Skolka had it in
mind to become chief himself over the people. And when the people had
made great noise for a day and a night and Lone Chief was yet alive,
Skolka was become afraid that he would not die. So it was the counsel of
Skolka, with fine words of honor and deeds, that spoke through the mouth
of the Otter
“Ay,” replied Lone Chief. “Well did I know it was the doing of Skolka,
but I was unmindful, being very sick. I had no heart for anger, nor belly
for stout words, and I cared lime, one way or the other, only I cared to die
and have done with it all. So, O White Man, the war party was made
ready. No tried fighters were there, nor elders, crafty and wise— naught
but five score of young men who had seen lime fighting. And all the
village gathered together above the bank of the river to see us depart. And
we departed amid great rejoicing and the singing of my praises. Even thou,
O White Man, wouldst rejoice at sight of a young man going forth to
baKle, even though doomed to die.
CHILDREN OF THE FROST
71
“So we went forth, the five score young men, and Mutsak came also, for
he was likewise young and untried. And by command of my father, the
Otter my canoe was lashed on either side to the canoe of Mutsak and the
canoe of Kannakut. Thus was my strength saved me from the work of the
paddles, so that, for all of my sickness, I might make a brave show at the
end. And thus we went down the river.
“Nor will I weary thee with the tale of the journey, which was not long.
And not far above the village of the Mukumuks we came upon two of their
fighting men in canoes, that fled at the sight of us. And then, according to
the command of my father, my canoe was cast loose and I was left to drift
down all alone. Also, according to his command, were the young men to
see me die, so that they might return and tell the manner of my death.
Upon this, my father, the Otter and Skolka, the shaman, had been very
clear, with stern promises of punishment in case they were not obeyed.
“I dipped my paddle and shouted words of scorn after the fleeing warriors.
And the vile things I shouted made them turn their heads in anger, when
they beheld that the young men held back, and that I came on alone.
Whereupon, when they had made a safe distance, the two warriors drew
their canoes somewhat apart and waited side by side for me to come
between. And I came between, spear in hand, and singing the war-song of
my people. Each flung a spear, but I bent my body, and the spears
whistled over me, and I was unhurt. Then, and we were all together, we
three, I cast my spear at the one to the right, and it drove into his throat
and he pitched backward into the water.
“Great was my surprise thereat, for I had killed a man. I turned to the one
on the left and drove strong with my paddle, to meet Death face to face;
but the man’s second spear, which was his last, but bit into the flesh of my
shoulder. Then was I upon him, making no cast, but pressing the point into
his breast and working it through him with both my hands. And while I
worked, pressing with all my strength, he smote me upon my head, once
and twice, with the broad of his paddle.
“Even as the point of the spear sprang out beyond his back, he smote me
upon the head. There was a flash, as of bright light, and inside my head I
felt something give, with a snap—just like that, with a snap. And the
weight that pressed above my eyes so long was lifted, and the band that
bound my brows so tight was broken. And a great gladness came upon me,
and my heart sang with joy.
“This be death, I thought; wherefore I thought that death was very good.
And then I saw the two empty canoes, and I knew that I was not dead, but
well again. The blows of the man upon my head had made me well. I
knew that I had killed, and the taste of the blood made me fierce and I
CHILDREN OF THE FROST
72
drove my paddle into the breast of the Yukon and urged my canoe toward
the village of the Mukumuks. The young men behind me gave a great cry.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the water foaming white from their
paddles—”
“Ay, it foamed white from our paddles,” said Mutsak. “For we
remembered the command of the Otter and of Skolka, that we behold with
our own eyes the manner of Lone Chief’s death. A young man of the
Mukumuks, on his way to a salmon trap, beheld the coming of Lone
Chief, and of the five score men behind him. And the young man fled in
his canoe, straight for the village, that alarm might be given and
preparation made. But Lone Chief hurried after him, and we hurried after
Lone Chief to behold the manner of his death. Only, in the face of the
village, as the young man leaped to the shore, Lone Chief rose up in his
canoe and made a mighty cast. And the spear entered the body of the
young man above the hips, and the young man fell upon his face.
Whereupon Lone Chief leaped up the bank war-club in hand and a great
war-cry on his lips, and dashed into the village. The first man he met was
Itwilie, chief over the Mukumuks, and him Lone Chief smote upon the
head with his war-club, so that he fell dead upon the ground. And for fear
we might not behold the manner of his death, we too, the five score young
men, leaped to the shore and followed Lone Chief into the village. Only
the Mukumuks did not understand, and thought we had come to fight; so
their bow-thongs sang and their arrows whistled among us. Whereat we
forgot our errand, and fell upon them with our spears and clubs; and they
being unprepared, there was great slaughter—”
“With my own hands I slew their shaman,” proclaimed Lone Chief, his
withered face a-work with memory of that old-time day. “With my own