WINGING EAGLE

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 541, 19 December 1928, Page 8

WINGING EAGLE

FIRST-EQUAL Winging Eagle was too young to be a real warrior, yet too old to be called a papoose. This age was one of trials for Winging Eagle, for he was different from most of the others. He had often, when learning the woods and the trails, wandered away by himself, no one knew where, though some asked why. But Winging Eagle was of that age when most young people dislike telling tlieir little private deeds, lest they should be laughed at for their differing characteristics. What of his wandering off the regular trails of Winging Eagle’s tribe? “Surely,” thought a hardened warrior, Blue Fir, “our young brother forsakes the chase too often from the end of the file. Then he is missed sometimes when we pass through a village of poor Qua wees or Wataes. He of a noble tribe of Sioux cannot mix too much with such neighbours, whose hunting grounds are poor. He is always happy and, when the chase is long, he never complains, but seems to kill more than his share. Winging Eagle is not like us. Perhaps his is a restless age. However, I shall watch.” So Blue Fir watched. * * * Th© new chase led them far from their tepees and their squaws and papooses. The older followers of the trail were hardened to this, but Winging Eagle was yet young and looked forward to new adventure away from so many familiar scenes. So Winging j Eagle hunted, while Blue Fir hunted and watched.

The hunt was over. All the warriors had returned from the mountains and the forest, laden with meat and skins. This was cause for great celebration in the camp. Had they not good reason to thank the Great Spirit who provided such good hunting in His mountains and by His rivers ? Happy, then., was the dance and song round the campfire that night, as the great chief, Great White Pine, looked on.

The elder warriors were privileged to tell of their adventures for the entertainment of those of the tribe not in the chase. Blue Fir was waiting, for Blue Fir had watched. At last his turn came.

He stood as still as a rock for a moment to command silence and then he spoke. “O, Great White Pine, I, Blue Fir, speak to the great chief and his great tribe. Good has been our hunt, and good also shall be our reward. Not the least successful of our huntsmen was a young warrior-brave. Yet, Great White Pine, I have strange things to tell of Winging Eagle. “It had been noticed, O chief, that Winging Eagle sometimes left the file when we passed strange wigwams, and even when hunt was following hunt; so Blue Fir watched, and this is what Blue Fir has seen: Even as we passed over yonder second ridge, the young one wandered. He was absent for a space to help free a useless bird that had become entangled in the undergrowth. Then, great chief, . we passed through the village of the poor Quawees. Winging Eagle forsook the file to help an old squaw carrying her bundle of wood to the fire. The squaw was far from comely, yet he treated her as his own mother. He even promised to bring her, when he returned, some certain deer meat, rare even to us.

“As the trail wore on, the warriorbrave left our hunt many times until he succeeded in shooting the certain deer for the Quawee squaw. He then seemed to pause to count how much flesh the old woman would need and then threw the rest in with our own hunt. He had- fulfilled his promise to the old squaw, so he then shot his arrow true and often for ourselves. “Though returning heavily laden with his extra flesh of the tasty deer, Winging Eagle was singing and happy, joking with the rest and sympathising with the less fortunate hunters, with whom he shared his kills. Blue Fills puzzled to know, O chief, if Winging Eagle has done wrong oi right in leaving the file for a poor bird, in noticing such a poor Quawee, and in wasting so much of his kill on those who did not hunt with the true arrow. Blue Fir has watched, so Blue Fir has spoken.”

There was a moment’s silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire, while Blue Fir’s ringing words echoed in the tall trees. Then Great White Pine rose from the ground in the midst of the now murmuring throng.

“Blue Fir, chiefs and braves of my wigwams, Great White Pine will answer. Winging Eagle does right. There is a Paleface tribe of young ones who are going to be the best Palefaces in future years. They govern their lives by ten great laws, which tell them to love animals, to be always useful, courteous and helpful to others; to save where they can that which should not be wasted, to be trustworthy, to smile and whistle when others might be unhappy, and to be loyal to the tribe, yet friendly to those of others.

“All these things 'Winging Eagle has done, but there is another law—the tenth. It tells the young of the tribe to be pure in thought, word and deed. Winging Eagle, hold up your head and step to the feet of Great White Pine. You have done those nine and, therefore, you are always acting the tenth. I have said that this Paleface tribe shall be the best people of future years, and you, Winging Eagle, will be the greatest chief of the Sioux if your life is lived according to those ten Paleface laws. Great White Pine has spoken.” “Well,” mused Winging Eagle, as he stood proudly before his chief, “I have endured suspicion and derision from all the rest of the tribe, but he whom I honour and respect above all others has praised me for my ways. It was worth while. ...” And the murmuring was heard again —in praise. Watching Warrior (Keith Gunn).