Chapter 10
Indian war-cry
The next day Pa worked in the field, getting it ready to plant the seeds. He came in at noon, black from the burned prairie, but he was pleased. He didn't have to worry about the tall grass anymore.
But he began to worry about the Indians. More and more of them were camping near the creek. Mary and Laura saw the smoke from their fires by day, and at night they heard fierce shouts.
When shadows began to fall on the prairie and the wind was quiet, the noises from the Indian camps grew louder and wilder. Pa shut the horses and cows in the stable and brought Jack into the house. No one could go outdoors until morning. In her sleep Laura heard the wild noises and beating drums.
One night Pa sat by the fireplace making bullets. Laura and Mary lay awake and watched him.
'Why are you doing that, Pa?' Mary asked.
'Oh, I have nothing better to do,' Pa said. But Laura knew he was tired from working in the field and wanted to sleep.
No more Indians came to the house. Mary did not want to go out of the house anymore, so Laura had to play outside by herself. But she felt strange there. The prairie didn't feel safe anymore.
Mr Scott and Mr Edwards, with their guns, came and talked to Pa in the field one day. At dinner, Pa told Ma that some of the settlers were talking about building a stockade. 'I told Scott and Edwards that it wasn't a good idea. If we need one, we'll need it before we can build it. And the worst thing is to show that we're afraid.' Laura wondered why Pa was talking this way. Pa was never afraid. But she was. Every night the Indian drums beat faster and faster, and their cries got wilder and wilder.
In the middle of the night. Laura sat straight up in bed and screamed. A terrible sound had woken her. Ma came quickly and said in her gentle way, 'Be quiet, Laura. You mustn't frighten Carrie.'
The house was dark, but Ma was still wearing her dress. She had not gone to bed. Pa stood by the window, looking out. He had his gun. Then that terrible sound came again.
'What is it?' Laura screamed. 'What is it? Oh, Pa, what is it?'
Pa said, 'It's the Indian war-cry, Laura.'
Ma made a soft sound, and he said to her, 'They need to know, Caroline.'
He explained that the Indians were dancing around their fires and talking about war. 'But I'm here and Jack's here,' Pa said, 'and there are soldiers at Fort Dodge. So don't be afraid, Mary and Laura.'
'No, Pa,' Laura said. But she was terribly afraid. The drums seemed to beat inside her head. The wild howls were worse than wolves.
Then they heard the sound of a running horse. It came nearer and nearer. In the light of the moon, Laura saw a little black horse with an Indian on its back. The Indian had a blanket around him, feathers on his head, and a gun at his side. He rode by as fast as the wind, and then he was gone.
'That was the tall Osage Indian who came to the house once and talked French to me!' Pa said.
'What's he doing out at this hour, riding so fast?' Nobody answered because nobody knew.
The next day they could not go out of the house. There was not one sound from the Indian camps. The whole wide prairie was still. But that night the noise in the camps was worse than the night before. The war-cries were terrible. Pa watched at the window with his gun, Laura and Mary stayed close to Ma, and poor little Carrie cried. Jack growled all night long, and he howled when the war-cries came.
Night after night, the Indians shouted and danced and beat their drums. All up and down the creek, war-cries answered war-cries. The sound filled the prairie. There was no rest. Laura ached all over.
The silent days were worse than the nights. The animals stayed in the stable. Mary and Laura could not go out of the house. And Pa watched and listened all the time. He didn't eat much. One day his head fell onto the table and he slept a little. He was so tired. But in a minute he woke up with a jump and said, crossly, to Ma, 'Don't let me do that again!' That night was the worst night of all. The drums beat faster and the war cries made their blood run cold.
At the window Pa said, 'Caroline, they're quarrelling among themselves. Maybe they'll fight each other.'
'Oh, Charles, I hope so!' Ma said.
All night long there was not a minute's rest. Just before the sun came up, the last war-cry ended and Laura fell asleep in Ma's arms.
She woke up in bed. The door was open, and the sun was high in the sky. It was already noon. Ma was cooking dinner and Pa was sitting outside on the step. He said to Ma, 'There's another big group, going off to the south.'
Laura went to the door and saw a long line of Indians far away. Pa told her that two long lines of Indians had gone west that morning. Now this one was going south. It meant that the Indians had argued among themselves and were not going to hunt buffalo together.
'Tonight we'll sleep!' Pa said, and they did. They did not even dream. In the morning Pa took his gun and went down the creek road. Laura and Mary and Ma stayed in the house and waited the whole long day.
When Pa came back in the late afternoon, he said everything was all right. He had gone up and down the creek and seen many empty Indian camps. All the Indian tribes had left, except the Osages.
He had met an Osage in the forest who could speak English. He told Pa that all the tribes except the Osages wanted to kill the settlers. The tall Indian had ridden so far and so fast that night because he did not want them to kill the white people. He was an Osage chief, and his name was Great Soldier.
'He went on arguing with them day and night,' Pa said, 'until the other Osages agreed with him. Then he told the other tribes that the Osages were ready to fight them to save the white settlers.'
That was why there had been so much noise in the camps. The Indian tribes were howling at each other. In the end, the other tribes did not want to fight Great Soldier and the Osages. So they went away.
'That's one good Indian!' Pa said.
There was another long night of sleep. In the morning Pa opened the door to let in the warm spring air. He stood on the step, looking east, and he said, 'Come here, Caroline. And you, Mary and Laura.'
Laura ran out first, and she was surprised. The Indians were coming. First came the tall Indian chief who had saved their lives. His black horse was very near now, and Laura's heart beat fast. She looked at the Indian's moccasins, at his colourful blanket, at his naked brown-red arms that carried the long gun. His face was still and tierce. Only the long eagle feathers in his hair moved in the wind.
'Great Soldier himself,' Pa said softly. He lifted his hand to say hello.
But the horse and the Indian chief went by without looking at Pa or Ma or Mary or Laura or the house. Then other horses and Indians with eagle feathers in their hair went by. Brown face after brown face went by. Bright beads shone in the sun, and horses' tails and eagle feathers blew in the wind.
The women and children came riding behind the Indian men. Little naked brown Indians, no bigger than Mary and Laura, went riding by. They did not have to wear clothes. All their skin was out in the air. Their straight black hair blew in the wind and their black eyes shone with happiness.
Laura looked and looked at the Indian children, and they looked at her. She had a sudden wish to be a little Indian girl, to ride naked in the wind and the sun.
Then Indian mothers came riding by with babies in baskets at the sides of their horses. Laura looked straight into the bright eyes of one little baby. Its eyes were black as a night when no stars shine. 'Pa,' she said, 'get me that little Indian baby!'
Be quiet, Laura! Pa said.
The baby's head turned and its eyes looked into Laura's eyes.
'Oh, I want it! I want it!' Laura cried. 'It wants to stay with me. Please, Pa, please!'
'Quiet, Laura,' Pa said. 'The Indian woman wants to keep her baby.'
Then Laura began to cry. The little papoose was gone. She was never going to see it again.
'I've never heard of such a thing,' Ma said. 'Why do you want an Indian baby, of all things?'
'Its eyes are so black,' Laura cried. She could not say what she meant.
No one was hungry for dinner. Pa and Ma and Mary and Laura stayed by the door and looked at the long line of Indians until nothing was left but silence and emptiness. All the world seemed very quiet and lonely.
One morning the whole prairie was green. Pa hurried into the field with the horses and his plough, and Mary and Laura helped Ma plant the seeds for the vegetables. They were all so happy because spring had come.
'Soon we'll have vegetables to eat and we'll live like kings!' Pa said.
One day Mary and Laura were washing dishes in the house when they heard Pa's voice, loud and angry. They looked out and saw Mr Edwards and Mr Scott in the field with Pa.
'No, Scott!' said Pa. 'I won't stay here until the soldiers take me away like a criminal. The government in Washington told us it was all right to build our houses here. But if now they want us to go, we'll go. We won't wait for the soldiers to make us leave. We're going now!' 'What's the matter, Charles? Where are we going?' Ma asked.
'I don't know, Caroline! But we're going. We're leaving here,' Pa said. 'Scott and Edwards say the government is sending soldiers to make the settlers leave Indian Territory.'
His face was very red and his eyes were like blue fire. Laura was frightened; she had never seen Pa look like that.
'I'm going, too,' said Mr Edwards.
'Take the cow and the calf,' Pa said to Mr Scott. 'You've been a good neighbour, and I'm sorry to leave you. But we're going in the morning.'
After Mr Scott left with the animals, Mr Edwards and Pa shook hands and said goodbye. Then he shook hands with Ma and said. 'Goodbye, Mrs Ingalls. I'll never forget how kind you were to me.'
Mary said politely, 'Goodbye, Mr Edwards.' But Laura forgot to be polite. She said, 'Oh, Mr Edwards, please don't go away! Oh, Mr Edwards, thank you, thank you for going all the way to Independence to find Santa Claus for us.'
Mr Edwards eyes shone very bright, and he went away without saying another word.
Pa began to put the canvas cover on the wagon and Laura and Mary knew it was true; they really were going away.
Everyone was quiet that night. Ma looked sad and said gently, 'A year gone. Charles.' But Pa answered with a smile, 'What's a year? We have all the time in the world.'
The next morning, Pa and Ma packed the wagon. First Ma laid two beds across the back of the wagon. Then she and Pa packed the clothes, the food, and the dishes. The only thing they could not take was the plough. Laura and Mary climbed into the wagon and sat on the bed in the back. Ma put Baby Carrie between them. Ma climbed to her place on the seat. Then suddenly Laura wanted to see the house again. So Pa opened the back of the wagon cover, and Mary and Laura looked out at their little log house.
Pa climbed to his place beside Ma and took the reins in his hands. Jack went under the wagon, and Pet and Patty walked away from the little house on the prairie.
As far as they could see, to the east and to the south and to the west, nothing was moving. Only the green grass was waving in the wind.
'It's a great country, Caroline,' Pa said. 'But there will be wild Indians and wolves here for many years.'
Pa and Ma were still and silent, and Mary and Laura were quiet, too. But Laura felt all excited inside.
You never know what will happen next, nor where you will be tomorrow, when you are travelling in a covered wagon.
- THE END -
