Running Fox

Having reached the age of sixteen winters, Running Fox, the son of Black Panther, a famous Delaware war-chief, determined to establish his reputation as a warrior. He knew, however, that before he could gain admission into the gallant company of fighting men he would have to prove his courage and ability in some daring exploit. Running Fox believed that the Delawares would expect some extraordinary achievement from the son of their most noted chief, and he resolved to surpass the most noteworthy deeds of his tribesmen. He spent many days trying to think of something sufficiently heroic to gain him the fame he desired. As he could come to no decision, he finally went to his father, and asked him to name the greatest possible achievement for a Delaware.

The eyes of the stern Delaware war-chief lighted with pride as he heard the bold request of his son. He spent some moments silently studying the face of the eager lad before him. Then, convinced that Running Fox was in earnest, he answered him.

“My son, you have asked me to tell you the greatest thing a Delaware can do. I will tell you. Far away toward Lowaneu, The-Place-Where-The-Cold-Comes-From, in the Mohawk camp, lives a great war-leader named Standing Wolf. You have heard our warriors talk about him at the council-fires. He has killed many of our people. We have fought many battles with him, but we cannot kill him. It must be that he bears a charmed life. We believe that he has some mysterious power. Many times our young men have surrounded him, but when they rushed in to destroy him he always killed most of them and escaped. He has done some wonderful things. It must be that he possesses some mysterious medicine charm. If you can go to the Mohawk camp and find out how Standing Wolf gets his power it will be the greatest thing you can do.”

“I will go,” Running Fox cried, impulsively.

“My son, you are brave enough, but you speak fast like a child,” replied Black Panther. “You must think about this thing. Then you will begin to see how hard it is. Many brave warriors have tried to do it. Not one found out about it. Most of them lost their lives. The Mohawks are as keen as wolves. When you enter their country, you will be in constant danger of losing your life. If they find your trail it will be hard to escape. But if you feel brave enough to try to do this great thing, then you must go and talk with Sky Dog. He is a great medicine-person, perhaps he will be able to help you. Now I have told you what to do.”

“My father, I will do as you have told me,” agreed Running Fox.

He went at once to find old Sky Dog, the venerable Delaware medicine-man. When Running Fox arrived at the medicine-lodge and drew aside the huge bear robe that hung before the entrance, he saw the aged medicine-man sitting upon the ground before a small fire. He was tossing small handfuls of dried sweet-grass upon the embers, and droning some sort of medicine-song. He took no notice of the lad standing uneasily in the doorway, and Running Fox began to wonder whether he had better withdraw. While he hesitated, however, Sky Dog raised his head and looked to see who his visitor might be.

“Hi, I see some one standing in the doorway of my lodge,” he said, peevishly. “The light is bad, and my eyes are old, so that I cannot tell who you are. Come in here, and let me look at you.”

Running Fox entered, and stood before the medicine-man. Sky Dog nodded understandingly.

“Now I see who you are,” he said, “You are the son of a great chief. Well, what do you want?” he demanded, sharply.

Running Fox suddenly felt bewildered in the presence of this great medicine-person. For some moments, therefore, he maintained an awkward silence.

“Well, have you no ears?” Sky Dog cried, impatiently. “I have asked you something. Has your tongue left your mouth? Come, I am not here to be stared at.”

The sharp reproach instantly aroused Running Fox from his reverie. He saw that his stupid silence had angered Sky Dog, and he hastened to explain the reason for his visit.

Sky Dog seemed astounded at his boldness. He shook his head, and stared thoughtfully at the fire. It was a long time before he replied.

“You have spoken big words,” he said, finally. “You are only a boy, and yet you have asked me to help you do something which our bravest warriors have been unable to do. Do you think that I will listen to such foolish prattle? No. You must show me that you are in earnest. Does your father know about this thing!”

“Yes, my father sent me here,” replied Running Fox.

“Well, then I may do something about it,” said Sky Dog. “But there are many things to be done before you can start on such a journey.”

“I am listening,” declared Running Fox.

“That is right. Well, first you must go to the sweat-lodge, and purify yourself so that you can pray to Getanittowit, the Great One. Then you must go away from the village for three days. You must go to a high mountain, and ask Getanittowit, the Great One, to help you. You must sing medicine-songs. You must not eat anything but a handful of parched corn once each day. Perhaps if you do these things Getanittowit will take pity on you, and send you a vision. If that comes to pass you must come to me, and I will tell you the meaning of it. If you do not receive a vision it will be useless to set out upon the undertaking, for you will surely be killed. I have told you what to do. Go.”

Running Fox left the lodge in high spirits. He had little doubt that if he faithfully carried out the commands of Sky Dog he would receive aid and power that would enable him to achieve his ambition. He went to his father and told him what Sky Dog had said. Then he hurried to the sweat-lodge.

The Pimoakan, or sweat-lodge, was a low, dome-shaped structure made of willow boughs, and covered with several layers of animal robes. It was located close beside the river. As Running Fox approached it he saw Sky Dog and an aged assistant heating stones at a fire near the entrance to the lodge.

When the hot stones had been rolled into the lodge Sky Dog ordered Running Fox to remove his clothing and crawl into the Pimoakan. Then the medicine-man and his companion filled raw-hide buckets with river water, and dashed it over the hot stones. When the lodge was filled with steam they hung a number of heavy bear robes over the entrance, and left the lad to his fate.

For some moments Running Fox believed that he would smother in the stifling clouds of steam. Gasping and choking, he was on the point of crying out to be released when he suddenly realized what it would mean. He told himself that such an act would not only disgust Sky Dog, but that it might even arouse the anger of Getanittowit, the Great One. The possibility frightened him. He endured the ordeal with the uncomplaining fortitude of a hardened warrior. The hot, steam-laden atmosphere induced profuse perspiration, and water streamed from every pore in his body. Running Fox grew weak and dizzy. He fought to overcome his weakness, however, for he realized that it was only by thus cleansing himself that he might become fit to hold communion with Getanittowit, the Great One.

While Running Fox was confined in the lodge, Sky Dog sat just outside the entrance, chanting medicine-songs. He ordered Running Fox to repeat them until he could sing them through without a mistake. Then Sky Dog drew aside the bear robes, and commanded Running Fox to come out. The lad staggered out, pale and faint. He presented a pitiful appearance. Sky Dog pointed toward the river, and Running Fox stumbled down the bank and threw himself into the icy water. The shock quickly revived him, and in a few moments he clambered out quite recovered from his experience.

“Now you can go away and rest,” said Sky Dog. “But you must keep thinking about the thing you wish to do. Then, when you feel strong, you must take your robe and a little parched corn, and go away. You must do that before two suns have passed. Go to some high place and stay there three days. During that time you must continue to ask Getanittowit to take pity upon you, and send you a vision. You must also keep singing the medicine-songs. You must not take any weapons with you for that would make Getanittowit very angry. At the end of three days come back and tell me what you have seen. Now I cannot tell you anything more. Go.”

Late the following day Running Fox took his deer-skin robe, and a small bag containing parched corn, and left the village. He made his way toward a high pine-clad mountain directly behind the great Delaware camp. There were few who saw him go away, for Running Fox had carefully guarded his plans. Two, however, his father and old Sky Dog, stood together at the edge of the village and watched him disappear into the shadows of the forest. Then they turned silently away, and walked thoughtfully to their lodges.

When Running Fox finally reached the summit of the mountain the sun had disappeared, and the purple evening shadows were settling in the valleys. Seating himself upon the trunk of a fallen pine the young Delaware looked wonderingly upon the glorious panorama that lay before him. Far below was the Delaware village beside a splendid river which, like a great serpent, glided down from the north between parallel ridges of low wooded hills. Behind those ridges were others, rising one behind the other, like great billows, until they eventually ended in a long, irregular line of ghostly gray peaks far away against the brilliant sunset sky. The entire country was covered with a vast primeval forest which continued in all directions as far as the eye could see. At various intervals isolated woodland lakes flashed from its Bomber green background and rushing mountain cataracts blazed narrow white trails down the hillsides. It was an unspoiled picture of natural grandeur, a land blessed by the bounteous generosity of Getanittowit, who had filled it with blessings for his children. The waters teemed with fish, the forests swarmed with game, and the air was perfumed with the fragrance of the pines. Running Fox looked upon it with pride and affection, for it was the home of the great Lenape nation, his people, the Delawares.

Then the lad turned his eyes toward the north, and his face grew stern and threatening. He realized that he was looking upon the hunting grounds of his enemies, the fierce and warlike Mohawks. Somewhere in the great silent wilderness that stretched for unknown leagues beyond the headwaters of the river was the Mohawk village in which lived the famous war-chief, Standing Wolf. Running Fox knew that to learn the secret which would enable his people to triumph over their enemies he must find and enter the hostile camp. For the first time he began to understand the difficulty and peril of his task. It seemed like a foolhardy undertaking for an untried lad of sixteen winters. Running Fox thought of the experienced warriors who had sacrificed their lives in the attempt. For a moment or so it weakened his confidence. He even wondered whether he might not have chosen a feat beyond his ability. The idea angered him. He told himself that no task was too great for the son of Black Panther.

Running Fox continued his reveries until darkness closed about the mountain-top. Then, as the fires began to twinkle down in the Delaware camp, he rose and turned his face toward the sky. He stood some moments gazing at the starry heavens. Then he suddenly began his appeal to Getanittowit, the Great One.

Late in the night Running Fox was interrupted by the sound of something moving stealthily through the forest. He was instantly alert, for he recalled that more than one daring Iroquois scout had been detected spying upon the Delaware camp from the summit of that very mountain. For a moment Running Fox longed for his weapons. The next instant he banished the thought for fear of angering Getanittowit. He believed that as long as he sang the sacred medicine-songs, and repeated the words which old Sky Dog had taught him, he would be safe from all danger. Thus assured, he listened without fear to the mysterious sounds in the darkness. At last a startled snort told him that it was only Achtu, the deer. A few moments later he heard it dashing away through the woods.

Dawn found the devout lad, heavy-eyed and weary, still gazing into the sky and calling upon Getanittowit to help him. “O Getanittowit, take pity on me and help me to do what I have set out to do. O Getanittowit, send me a vision. O Getanittowit, I have sung the sacred medicine-songs many times to make you glad. O Getanittowit, take pity on me and help me.” Running Fox continued to repeat the earnest appeal and sing the sacred songs throughout the day. With the falling of darkness, however, the exhausted lad ceased his exertions, and soon afterward fell into a heavy slumber.

The following day Running Fox hovered on the verge of collapse. The scant daily ration of parched corn was insufficient to maintain his strength, and the long, trying ordeal began to sap his vitality. He had stationed himself on a bare granite ledge which formed the very peak of the mountain. There, in the full glare of the scorching summer sun, he stood and offered his prayers to Getanittowit. At times his head reeled and his legs trembled beneath him, but when that happened he staggered to the shade of the forest, and refreshed himself at an icy spring which bubbled forth between the roots of a massive hemlock. Then he toiled painfully up to the ledge, and continued the sacred ceremony which he felt confident would eventually win him the favor of Getanittowit.

More than half of the day had passed when Running Fox discovered something which filled him with dismay. Far away toward the west threatening black clouds were piling up above the hill-tops. The young Delaware watched them with great anxiety. He knew that the Delawares considered it a very bad omen to be overtaken by a thunder storm while conducting one of their sacred ceremonies. It was considered especially significant if one were praying to Getanittowit, the Great One. Under those circumstances a thunderstorm was accepted as a sign of Getanittowit’s displeasure. The thought filled Running Fox with panic. Keeping anxious watch of the darkening western sky, the superstitious young Delaware continued to chant the sacred medicine-songs to avert the ill fortune that threatened him.

It was not long, however, before Running Fox realized that the storm was actually approaching. The ominous black clouds had formed into a great mass that was sweeping rapidly toward the sun, and the low, threatening rumble of distant thunder echoed among the hills. The air grew hot and stifling. A quick, darting line of fire cut the western sky. Running Fox turned his eyes appealingly toward the sun, as he sang the medicine-songs in a high, hysterical tone. Each moment he saw the storm gaining greater force. The sky grew blacker, the thunder sounded louder, and the lightning flashes became more frequent. Then the sun disappeared behind the edge of the storm-clouds, and a peculiar yellow light flooded the valleys. An uncanny hush had fallen upon the wilderness. Running Fox was awed by the sound of his own voice. It sounded harsh and unnatural for he was almost screaming the sacred songs in his eagerness to make them effective. Then another sound reached his ears. The wind was roaring over the ridge to the westward. A few moments later it swept over the mountain-top. A hawk sailed across the sky on the crest of the gale. Running Fox ceased singing to watch it. He wished that he, too, might flee as easily. Before the bird had disappeared, the storm was upon him. It began with a startling crash of thunder, and a crackling flash of light.

Believing that his long ordeal had been in vain, and that he had in some way offended Getanittowit, the Great One, Running Fox wished to die. He knew that if he returned to his people with the disfavor of Getanittowit upon him he would be shunned as one in league with Medsit, the Evil One. He might even be driven from the camp. His heart failed him as he thought of the disgrace which he had brought upon his father. Then, as the first great drops of rain began to fall, he turned his eyes toward the village. A number of people were standing at the edge of the camp, gazing at the mountain-top. Somewhat apart from the others stood a solitary figure, whom the disconsolate lad thought he recognized as his father. The possibility roused him. He believed that Black Panther was there to give him courage and to urge him to continue his petition. The thought filled him with hope. Running Fox told himself that perhaps Getanittowit was only testing his faith and courage. Encouraged by the idea, he determined to show himself worthy. A few moments later, therefore, when the Delaware camp was swept from his sight by a terrific deluge of rain, Running Fox turned his face fearlessly toward the sky, and again sang the medicine-songs. He was a heroic figure as he stood alone on the mountain-top in the fury of the storm, calling upon the great being whom his people believed ruled over all their destinies. Most of the time his voice was lost in the crashing of thunder and the roaring of the wind, but in every lull it rose strong and confident with the new hope that had entered his heart.

“O Getanittowit, I am still here singing the sacred medicine-songs,” he cried. “O Getanittowit, take pity on me. O Getanittowit, do not send me back to my people without something good to tell them. O Getanittowit, when I first heard the dreadful Thunder Beings I was afraid. Now my heart is strong again. O Getanittowit, take pity on me.”

A terrifying crash of thunder was followed by a blinding flash of lightning that shattered a huge dead pine and filled the air with giant splinters. Running Fox was less than three bow-lengths from the tree. When it was struck he staggered backward with his hands before his face, and fell to the ground.

When Running Fox finally regained consciousness, he found himself staring into darkness. For some moments he blinked his eyes to make sure that they were open. When he had convinced himself, a great fear entered his heart. He told himself that Getanittowit had destroyed his sight. Raising his eyes toward the heavens in mute appeal he was astonished to see the stars. He scarcely dared hope that they were real. He turned his head and looked about him. He saw the dim, shadowy outlines of rocks, and the shattered trunk of the giant pine. Then the truth suddenly flashed upon him. It was night. Getanittowit had taken pity upon him, and brought him back to life. Running Fox attempted to rise and give thanks, but he was too weak. Besides, he was wet and cold. He longed for his fire-sticks. Then, as he began to tremble, he suddenly remembered his robe. He crawled about until he found it. It was quite dry on the under side, and he wrapped it closely about him. Then exhaustion overcame him, and he fell back unconscious.

Running Fox had barely closed his eyes when he heard some one calling his name. Then he saw Machque, the bear. For a moment Running Fox felt uneasy without his weapons, for the bear was a huge creature and looked very fierce. However, as he had heard it call his name he knew that it must be a medicine-creature, and he believed that it had come to help him. While he was looking at the bear, he heard some one behind, him calling his name. He looked and saw Achtu, the deer. It showed no fear of the bear, and walked up and stood beside it. Then Running Fox knew that they must be medicine-creatures. As he was thinking what to say to them, he again heard his name, and this time it was Woakus, the fox. It, too, went and stood beside the others. Then came Quenischquney, the panther, and Wisawanik, the squirrel, and Gokhos, the owl, and the terrible Wischalowe, the rattlesnake, whom the Delawares called “The Frightener.” When they all were assembled, the bear was made the leader.

“Running Fox, we have come here to help you,” said this strange medicine-creature. “You have stood the test, and now we are going to help you. You are setting out to do a hard thing. If you do exactly as we tell you, you will go through with it. What I have to say is short. You know that my people are brave and powerful. You must fight and kill one of my people. Then you must eat his heart, and wear his claws about your neck. This will make you as strong and as brave as we are. I have finished.”

“Running Fox, you have heard some one who is stronger and braver than I am,” declared Achtu, the deer. “But you must remember that strength and courage will not always save you. When you cannot fight you must run. My people are the fastest people who live in the woods. You are going out to do a great thing. I will tell you that you must kill one of my people, and eat his heart. Then you will be able to run faster than your enemies.”

“Running Fox, you have heard Machque, who is strong and brave, and Achtu, who is very swift, but you must also be very cautious. You are going upon a dangerous journey. If you are not careful you will surely be killed. My people are very hard to catch. If you can kill one of our old men, and cut off his ears, you will be as sharp as we are,” said Woakus, the fox.

“Running Fox, you have heard some great people,” growled Quenischquney, the panther. “Well, now I am going to help you. It is a good thing to be strong, and brave, and swift, and cautious, but you must also be able to steal up and surprise your enemies. No one can do that better than my people. But I must warn you that our young men are very fierce, and you will have a hard fight if you try to kill one of them. However, I will give you power to do it. Then you must take the longest claw from each foot, and keep them about you.”

“Running Fox, I am smaller and weaker than all these great people who have talked to you,” barked Wisawanik, the squirrel. “However, I am also more nimble, and better at hiding. If you wish to travel safely to the village where Standing Wolf lives, you must be nimble and good at hiding. If you will kill one of our chiefs who wear the black robes, and carry his scalp with you, you will be able to hide so well that your enemies will not be able to find you.”

“Running Fox, you have been promised some good things, but I am going to offer you the best of all,” boasted Gokhos, the owl. “If you have all the powers that these good friends are going to give you, it will all be useless without my gift When darkness falls then it will be safer to travel through the forest. But to do that you must have eyes that can look through the night. My people have this gift. If you can kill one of our great white leaders, who live far away in the country of the Mohawks, you will not only be able to see as well at night as by day, but you will also have magic power to overcome whoever may try to harm you.”

“Running Fox, you know me; I am called ‘The Frightener’,” said Wischalowe, the rattlesnake. “Whoever hears my warning trembles with fear. If you will kill one of our old men, and tie his war-drum to your belt so that it makes a noise when you walk you will frighten away all who seek to harm you.”

When Wischalowe finished speaking they all remained silent, waiting for some talk from Running Fox. For some moments he was at a loss as to just how to address these strange medicine-creatures. While he was thinking just how to thank them they suddenly disappeared. At that moment Running Fox regained consciousness. Day had dawned, and the sun was well above the eastern ridges. For a moment or so the bewildered lad looked anxiously about him, expecting to see the strange creatures that had appeared in his delirium. When he failed to find them his heart gave a great hound of joy, for he believed that they had been medicine-creatures sent by Getanittowit to help him. The idea gave him strength, and he struggled to his feet and offered thanks to Getanittowit. Then he toiled painfully down the mountainside. It took him most of the day to reach the valley. When he finally staggered into the camp he went directly to old Sky Dog, and collapsed as he reached the door of his lodge.