indian heroes and great chieftains(印第安英雄)-第23章
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rendering of the name Nomkahpa would be； 〃He knocked off two。〃
I was well acquainted with Two Strike and spent many pleasant hours
with him； both at Washington； D。 C。； and in his home on the Rosebud
reservation。 What I have written is not all taken from his own mouth；
because he was modest in talking about himself； but I had him vouch for
the truth of the stories。 He said that he was born near the Republican
River about 1832。 His earliest recollection was of an attack by the
Shoshones upon their camp on the Little Piney。 The first white men he
ever met were traders who visited his people when he was very young。
The incident was still vividly with him； because； he said； 〃They made my
father crazy；〃 ＇drunk＇。 This made a deep impression upon him； he told
me； so that from that day he was always afraid of the white man's
〃mysterious water。〃
Two Strike was not a large man； but he was very supple and alert in
motion； as agile as an antelope。 His face was mobile and intelligent。
Although he had the usual somber visage of an Indian； his expression
brightened up wonderfully when he talked。 In some ways wily and
shrewd in intellect； he was not deceitful nor mean。 He had a high sense
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of duty and honor。 Patriotism was his ideal and goal of life。
As a young man he was modest and even shy； although both his father
and grandfather were well…known chiefs。 I could find few noteworthy
incidents in his early life； save that he was an expert rider of wild horses。
At one time I was pressing him to give me some interesting incident of his
boyhood。 He replied to the effect that there was plenty of excitement but
〃not much in it。〃 There was a delegation of Sioux chiefs visiting
Washington； and we were spending an evening together in their hotel。
Hollow Horn Bear spoke up and said：
〃Why don't you tell him how you and a buffalo cow together held your
poor father up and froze him almost to death？〃
Everybody laughed； and another man remarked： 〃I think he had better
tell the medicine man （meaning myself） how he lost the power of speech
when he first tried to court a girl。〃 Two Strike； although he was then
close to eighty years of age； was visibly embarrassed by their chaff。
〃Anyway； I stuck to the trail。 I kept on till I got what I wanted；〃 he
muttered。 And then came the story。
The old chief； his father； was very fond of the buffalo hunt； and being
accomplished in horsemanship and a fine shot； although not very
powerfully built； young Two Strike was already following hard in his
footsteps。 Like every proud father； his was giving him every incentive to
perfect his skill； and one day challenged his sixteen…year…old son to the
feat of 〃one arrow to kill〃 at the very next chase。
It was midwinter。 A large herd of buffalo was reported by the game
scout。 The hunters gathered at daybreak prepared for the charge。 The
old chief had his tried charger equipped with a soft； pillow…like Indian
saddle and a lariat。 His old sinew…backed hickory bow was examined
and strung； and a fine straight arrow with a steel head carefully selected
for the test。 He adjusted a keen butcher knife over his leather belt； which
held a warm buffalo robe securely about his body。 He wore neither shirt
nor coat； although a piercing wind was blowing from the northwest。 The
youthful Two Strike had his favorite bow and his swift pony； which was
perhaps dearer to him than his closest boy comrade。
Now the hunters crouched upon their horses' necks like an army in line
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of battle； while behind them waited the boys and old men with pack ponies
to carry the meat。 〃Hukahey！〃 shouted the leader as a warning。
〃Yekiya wo！〃 （Go） and in an instant all the ponies leaped forward against
the cutting wind； as if it were the start in a horse race。 Every rider leaned
forward； tightly wrapped in his robe； watching the flying herd for an
opening in the mass of buffalo； a chance to cut out some of the fattest
cows。 This was the object of the race。
The chief had a fair start； his horse was well trained and needed no
urging nor guidance。 Without the slightest pull on the lariat he dashed
into the thickest of the herd。 The youth's pony had been prancing and
rearing impatiently； he started a little behind； yet being swift passed many。
His rider had one clear glimpse of his father ahead of him； then the snow
arose in blinding clouds on the trail of the bison。 The whoops of the
hunters； the lowing of the cows； and the menacing glances of the bulls as
they plunged along； or now and then stood at bay； were enough to unnerve
a boy less well tried。 He was unable to select his victim。 He had been
carried deeply into the midst of the herd and found himself helpless to
make the one sure shot； therefore he held his one arrow in his mouth and
merely strove to separate them so as to get his chance。
At last the herd parted； and he cut out two fat cows； and was
maneuvering for position when a rider appeared out of the snow cloud on
their other side。 This aroused him to make haste lest his rival secure both
cows； he saw his chance； and in a twinkling his arrow sped clear through
one of the animals so that she fell headlong。
In this instant he observed that the man who had joined him was his
own father； who had met with the same difficulties as himself。 When the
young man had shot his only arrow； the old chief with a whoop went after
the cow that was left； but as he gained her broadside； his horse stepped in
a badger hole and fell； throwing him headlong。 The maddened buffalo；
as sometimes happens in such cases； turned upon the pony and gored him
to death。 His rider lay motionless； while Two Strike rushed forward to
draw her attention； but she merely tossed her head at him； while
persistently standing guard over the dead horse and the all but frozen
Indian。
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Alas for the game of 〃one arrow to kill！〃 The boy must think fast； for
his father's robe had slipped off； and he was playing dead； lying almost
naked in the bitter air upon the trampled snow。 His bluff would not serve；
so he flew back to pull out his solitary arrow from the body of the dead
cow。 Quickly wheeling again； he sent it into her side and she fell。 The
one arrow to kill had become one arrow to kill two buffalo！ At the
council lodge that evening Two Strike was the hero。
The following story is equally characteristic of him； and in explanation
it should be said that in the good old days among the Sioux； a young man
is not supposed to asso
