“Oho!” said the man of the house, who was one of the players, “for a long time you have not entered my dwelling on a visit; I fear you will make it rain! Walk around the stove and break the charm.”
“Don’t mind him,” said the woman, kindly; “tell me what you want. Won’t you sit down?”
The two boys stood hesitating, then George began in a sepulchral voice, “Woman, we are the commanded, the bearers of the Word of Command. We come to demand of you a bag of pemmican. Give plenty—”
“Willingly,” corrected Edwin, in a whisper.
“Willingly, and you shall go beyond the four hills of life without—without—”
“Stumbling,” prompted Edwin.
“Stumbling; there shall be no weariness in the pathway of life—” and so on to the end of the ritual.
The woman clapped her hands, and shouted with laughter, as she exclaimed, “If your cloud and lightning and thunder do all you say they will do, they have more power than I supposed they had! Sit down and wait a while, and I will have some pemmican ready for you.”
“Did those old White-chests teach you all that?” asked the husband. “If they did, they have been stealing the rituals of some of our priests, and—”
“Oh, let them alone!” said the wife; “they came to see me.”
“They came in without knocking on the door; that’s bad luck!” the husband continued in his banter; “before entering a house they should knock, as the White-chests do.”
“Be careful, and don’t spill it!” said the wife, as she handed a bag to George, who thanked her.
“There they come!” said one of the Seven in a loud whisper, as he felt a tug on the rope that was tied to his arm.
We hastened out of bed, being careful not to make any noise. George and Edwin sent the bag of pemmican first, then they were each pulled up and safely landed.
We had built a fire in a vacant room adjoining our dormitory; into this warm room we repaired with our bag, and sat in a circle on the floor, Indian fashion. On a little table stood the one candle allowed us, shedding a feeble light. Two of the boys had stolen down to the dining-room for plates. Alexander, before whom the bag was placed, divided the pemmican equally, while we listened to George and Edwin’s account of their adventure. The plates were passed around; I put out my hand to help myself from my plate, when a member of the Big Seven stopped me. “Wait,” said he; “there is something more to be done.”
Aleck looked up; we all became silent; then he took a tiny bit of the pemmican, and held it toward the sky for a moment as a thank offering to Wakonda, then placed it with great solemnity on the floor in the centre of the circle. This done, we fell to eating, telling stories as we feasted, and had one of the most enjoyable nights of our lives.
From time to time through the winter we had these nocturnal banquets, taking turns in going to the village for our supplies; but misfortune overtook us before the season was fairly over.
One dark night we had our meeting as usual, and the Word of Command came to Lester and to Joel of the Big Seven. When the small boys had gone to sleep, we brought out our rope and let Joel down through the window. Then we put the noose around Lester and proceeded to lower him.
It chanced that Graybeard had lain awake from toothache, and was at that very moment looking through his window, the curtain of which he had neglected to pull down when he retired, and he saw, slowly descending outside, two dark objects; they grew longer and longer, then they suddenly ceased to move. For an instant he felt a slight shock of fright; but quickly recovering, he gradually made out the form of two feet and two legs without a body. He sprang out of bed, threw open the window, and in a severe tone demanded, “What’s this! Who are you; what are you doing?”
Lester struggled frantically to climb the rope; we tried to help him, but a large knot caught the edge of the windowsill, and we could not lift it over, nor could we let Lester down, for one of the Seven had entangled his legs in the coil, and before he had extricated himself, it was too late to save our companion.
“Who are you?” again called Graybeard, grasping the boy by the trousers.
“It’s me, Lester,” replied the lad.
Seeing that the game was up, we gently let Lester farther down, and he entered Graybeard’s room through the window.
In the meantime one of the boys had run softly downstairs to open the hall door for Joel, who had not been discovered.
Graybeard woke us up in the morning at the usual hour, but of the disturbance during the night he said nothing. At breakfast the subject was not mentioned, although we listened with anxious expectation.
To the twelve boys who were engaged in the escapade of the night, it seemed as though the preliminary exercises of the morning school session would never end, so desirous were we to have the punishment, whatever it might be, come quickly and we be rid of suspense. The last name on the roll was called; Graybeard slowly closed the Register, put it in his desk, and during an impressive silence turned his eyes upon us to scan our faces.
“Lester!” said he, at last, “you will step up to my desk, if you please.”
If there was a serious matter on hand, Graybeard always said, “If you please.”
Notwithstanding the very polite invitation extended to him, Lester reluctantly walked to the desk. Every eye but two, those of Alexander, was fixed upon Graybeard and Lester. Aleck had taken out his writing-book and was carefully copying the example given at the
