The Outcasts Part 7

"You can, s.h.a.g; if you will but eat of the Fur Flower it will cure this evil disease which is in your blood, and bring back the beautiful silk coat that was the envy of the Buffalo Range."

"Do you speak the truth, Dog-Wolf?" asked s.h.a.g.

"Most surely. All the Dwellers in the Northland know that. Are not all the Forest-Dwellers full-haired?"

"And this Fur Flower, A'tim; where is it?"

"Less than a day's trail," answered the Dog-Wolf.

"Find it for me, kind Brother," begged the Bull. "When one frightens those of his own kind it is time to try something."

As they plodded through the forest, A'tim muttered: "Now I shall surely have this vain old Bull. The Death Coulee is close to Porcupine Water, and that is not far. s.h.a.g shall eat of the Death Flower, which I have called the Fur Flower, to improve his appearance; and when he is dead I will eat of him to improve mine."

A three hours' tramp and they came to a little valley rich in bright yellow gra.s.s, topped by a stately plant that nodded and rustled in the wind as its many seed pods swayed like strings of dark pearls. It was the Monkshood, the deadly aconite, which, when the summer was young, hung its helmet flower in a shimmering veil of blue over the sweet gra.s.s of the Death Valley--the valley known of all animals as the Coulee of the Long Rest, for he who browsed there found his limbs bound in the steel cords of death.

"There," said A'tim, nodding his head at the bronze gold of the many Monkshood, "there is the Fur Flower. It will be dry eating now, being of a season's age, but in the early feed-time it is sweet and tender. While you eat of it I shall rest here."

A strong rustling of gra.s.s almost at their heels caused the Dog-Wolf to spring to his feet in alarm.

"Eu-h-h, eu-h-h! here is the accursed Cow again. Where in the name of Forest Fools have you come from--why do you follow us?"

exclaimed A'tim.

"It is the way of my kind," she replied, "to follow a Herd Leader; there is no harm in that."

Into the big, sleepy eyes of s.h.a.g crept a pleased look.

"Where go you, Great Bull?" she asked.

"To eat of this Fur Flower my kind Brother, A'tim, has told me will bring back my coat; a soft, silky coat it was, too."

"Eat of that--that which is the Death Gra.s.s growing in the Valley of the Long Rest! You must wish to die; our Herd Leader, who was even of your size, Great Bull, ate of it, and died like a stricken Calf."

"What is this?" demanded s.h.a.g, his big, honest eyes turned on A'tim with a wondering look of unbelief.

"A lie," quoth A'tim; "the Cow is full of a stupid duplicity: perhaps she even killed this Herd Leader by some trick, and blames it on the innocent Fur Flower. Does it look like a poison herb, Wise Bull? Is it like the scraggy Loco Plant of the South Ranges? Has it not the beautiful blossom of a good herb? Would Wie-sah-ke-chack, who is wise, put such a tempting coat on a death plant?"

s.h.a.g looked puzzled. Why should A'tim wish him to eat of a Death Flower; and yet, there was the graze of the Wolf's fang on his thigh that time they came up out of La Biche River. That surely had the full flavor of treachery about it. His ponderous mind worked slowly over the tortuous puzzle.

"I am a stranger here," he said, "and know little of these herbs, but this Dog-Wolf, who is also an Outcast like myself, has trailed from the Southland with me, and we have been even as Brothers. Thinking perhaps that my rough coat was not so fine as it once was, I listened to the speech of this Dog-Wolf to the end that this blue-flowered herb will cause the soft, beautiful hair to grow again."

"It is the Death Flower," declared the Cow with sententious persistence; "and this Outcast Wolf is a traitor, for if he is from the Northland he also knows that, even as in the Southland they know the Loco Plant."

A'tim slunk back nervously and watched s.h.a.g with wary caution.

"Do you believe this lie, s.h.a.g, my dear Friend? Ghur-r-r-ah! do you think I would do such a thing? This lone Cow, who is also an Outcast because of some wrong thing, must be locoed (mad)--even as every Herd has one such."

"I am wise enough not to eat of the Death Flower, by the knowledge of our kind. But you can prove all this, Herd Leader--let the Dog-Wolf eat of this medicine plant, if it be harmless."

This clever idea pleased the Bull mightily. "Yes, A'tim," he cried; "the Cow, who is but a Buffalo, and, of course, has not the great Wolf wisdom, may be mistaken. You who are an eater of gra.s.ses when you are ill, eat of this Fur Flower, as you name it; then also I will eat in great faith--after a little," he added in an undertone.

A'tim walked backward a few paces hesitatingly, and, looking wondrous hurt, said in a deprecating voice: "Ghur-r-rh, eu-h-h! I have been a friend to you, Lone Bull, even a Brother in solitude; and now at the word of a stranger, a silly Cow, who having done some wrong has been outcasted from her Herd, you lose faith in me, and treat me as a traitor."

Still farther into the tangle of birch and poplar he backed, saying: "Of course, I couldn't expect you to take my part against a sleek-hided Buffalo Cow."

With a sudden spring he turned, and barked derisively as he loped through the forest: "Good-by, bald-hided old Bull; I will bring harm to you because of this."

"I think you were just in time," said s.h.a.g to the Cow; "that Dog-Wolf meant my death."

Then s.h.a.g learned from the Buffalo Cow that she was one of a Herd of six, and that the Herd was not very far away; that they were unguarded because of the loss of their Leader through the Death Flower, even as she had said. Willingly s.h.a.g went with her, making many protestations as to his disreputable appearance, and the unfitness of his well-worn stub-horns to battle for them; but he went.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER SIX

A'tim slunk through the forest, his lean body filled with nothing but the rage of disappointed appet.i.te. "I'm starving!" he gasped; "Starving! I must have something to eat. By the feast that is in a dead Buffalo! if that evil-minded Cow had also eaten of the Death Flower when her Bull did, as she says, I should now be closer friend than ever with old s.h.a.g--s.h.a.g, the Fool."

A large dead cottonwood, rotted to the heart till its flesh was like red earth mould, lay across his path like an unburied Redskin. "Should be Grub Worms here," muttered A'tim, sniffing at the moss shroud which clothed the tree corpse. In famine haste he tore with strong claws at the crumbling ma.s.s. One, two, three large Grubs, full of a white fat, twisted and squirmed at their rude awakening; the Dog-Wolf swallowed them greedily. "Eu-h-h!

Hi, yi! Such a tiny morsel," he whined plaintively; "they but give life to the famine pains which were all but dead through starvation. Wait, you, fool Bull--I'll crack your ribs with my strong teeth yet! But small as the Grubs are there should be more."

With swift diligence A'tim excavated, grumblingly, until his gaunt form was half buried in the hole.

Three Gray Shadows were creeping in stealthy silence upon his flank; owing to his anxious work A'tim was oblivious to the approaching trouble.

"E-e-yah!" and quick as a slipping sound that fluttered his ear A'tim was up on the dead cottonwood, only to find himself peering into the lurid eyes of a huge Wolf.

Like war stars, four other b.a.l.l.s of light gleamed at him from a close crescent. The Outcast was clever. Surely this was a case for diplomacy; he had no desire to feed three hungry Wolves with his thin carca.s.s.

"You startled me, Brothers," he said, grinning nervously.

"I did not mean to," replied the Pack Leader; "my foot slipped on a wet leaf."

"Ye-e-s--just so," hesitated A'tim in deprecating voice; "so fortunate--I mean--Brothers, I'm sorry I can't offer you good eating--there were only three Grubs----"

"Oh, don't mention it!" exclaimed the Wolf; "no doubt we shall find something for dinner presently--don't you think so, children?" he asked, turning to the others.

"I was going to say," recommenced the Outcast, "that I could not ask you to eat just here, but I was actually on my way to invite you to a big feeding."

The Timber Wolf bared his fangs in a grin of derisive unbelief.

His comrades blinked at one another solemnly. "Was there ever such a liar?"

A'tim coughed nervously and continued his politic address. "I heard your powerful bay, Pack Leader, hours ago, as I was attending to a little trailing matter I had on hand, and resolved to invite you to the Kill when I had located the trailed one."