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Literature Post > London, Jack > Children of the Frost > Chapter 8

Children of the Frost by London, Jack - Chapter 8

THE DEATH OF LIGOUN

Blood for blood, rank for rank.

--_Thlinket Code_.


"Hear now the death of Ligoun--"

The speaker ceased, or rather suspended utterance, and gazed upon me
with an eye of understanding. I held the bottle between our eyes and
the fire, indicated with my thumb the depth of the draught, and shoved
it over to him; for was he not Palitlum, the Drinker? Many tales had
he told me, and long had I waited for this scriptless scribe to speak
of the things concerning Ligoun; for he, of all men living, knew these
things best.

He tilted back his head with a grunt that slid swiftly into a gurgle,
and the shadow of a man's torso, monstrous beneath a huge inverted
bottle, wavered and danced on the frown of the cliff at our backs.
Palitlum released his lips from the glass with a caressing suck and
glanced regretfully up into the ghostly vault of the sky where played
the wan white light of the summer borealis.

"It be strange," he said; "cold like water and hot like fire. To
the drinker it giveth strength, and from the drinker it taketh away
strength. It maketh old men young, and young men old. To the man
who is weary it leadeth him to get up and go onward, and to the man
unweary it burdeneth him into sleep. My brother was possessed of the
heart of a rabbit, yet did he drink of it, and forthwith slay four of
his enemies. My father was like a great wolf, showing his teeth to all
men, yet did he drink of it and was shot through the back, running
swiftly away. It be most strange."

"It is 'Three Star,' and a better than what they poison their bellies
with down there," I answered, sweeping my hand, as it were, over the
yawning chasm of blackness and down to where the beach fires glinted
far below--tiny jets of flame which gave proportion and reality to the
night.

Palitlum sighed and shook his head. "Wherefore I am here with thee."

And here he embraced the bottle and me in a look which told more
eloquently than speech of his shameless thirst.

"Nay," I said, snuggling the bottle in between my knees. "Speak now of
Ligoun. Of the 'Three Star' we will hold speech hereafter."

"There be plenty, and I am not wearied," he pleaded brazenly. "But the
feel of it on my lips, and I will speak great words of Ligoun and his
last days."

"From the drinker it taketh away strength," I mocked, "and to the man
unweary it burdeneth him into sleep."

"Thou art wise," he rejoined, without anger and pridelessly. "Like all
of thy brothers, thou art wise. Waking or sleeping, the 'Three Star'
be with thee, yet never have I known thee to drink overlong or
overmuch. And the while you gather to you the gold that hides in our
mountains and the fish that swim in our seas; and Palitlum, and the
brothers of Palitlum, dig the gold for thee and net the fish, and are
glad to be made glad when out of thy wisdom thou deemest it fit that
the 'Three Star' should wet our lips."

"I was minded to hear of Ligoun," I said impatiently. "The night grows
short, and we have a sore journey to-morrow."

I yawned and made as though to rise, but Palitlum betrayed a quick
anxiety, and with abruptness began:--

"It was Ligoun's desire, in his old age, that peace should be among
the tribes. As a young man he had been first of the fighting men and
chief over the war-chiefs of the Islands and the Passes. All his days
had been full of fighting. More marks he boasted of bone and lead and
iron than any other man. Three wives he had, and for each wife two
sons; and the sons, eldest born and last and all died by his side in
battle. Restless as the bald-face, he ranged wide and far--north to
Unalaska and the Shallow Sea; south to the Queen Charlottes, ay, even
did he go with the Kakes, it is told, to far Puget Sound, and slay thy
brothers in their sheltered houses.

"But, as I say, in his old age he looked for peace among the tribes.
Not that he was become afraid, or overfond of the corner by the
fire and the well-filled pot. For he slew with the shrewdness and
blood-hunger of the fiercest, drew in his belly to famine with the
youngest, and with the stoutest faced the bitter seas and stinging
trail. But because of his many deeds, and in punishment, a warship
carried him away, even to thy country, O Hair-Face and Boston Man; and
the years were many ere he came back, and I was grown to something
more than a boy and something less than a young man. And Ligoun, being
childless in his old age, made much of me, and grown wise, gave me of
his wisdom.

"'It be good to fight, O Palitlum,' said he. Nay, O Hair-Face, for
I was unknown as Palitlum in those days, being called Olo, the
Ever-Hungry. The drink was to come after. 'It be good to fight,' spoke
Ligoun, 'but it be foolish. In the Boston Man Country, as I saw with
mine eyes, they are not given to fighting one with another, and they
be strong. Wherefore, of their strength, they come against us of the
Islands and Passes, and we are as camp smoke and sea mist before them.
Wherefore I say it be good to fight, most good, but it be likewise
foolish.'

"And because of this, though first always of the fighting men,
Ligoun's voice was loudest, ever, for peace. And when he was very old,
being greatest of chiefs and richest of men, he gave a potlatch. Never
was there such a potlatch. Five hundred canoes were lined against the
river bank, and in each canoe there came not less than ten of men and
women. Eight tribes were there; from the first and oldest man to the
last and youngest babe were they there. And then there were men from
far-distant tribes, great travellers and seekers who had heard of the
potlatch of Ligoun. And for the length of seven days they filled their
bellies with his meat and drink. Eight thousand blankets did he give
to them, as I well know, for who but I kept the tally and apportioned
according to degree and rank? And in the end Ligoun was a poor man;
but his name was on all men's lips, and other chiefs gritted their
teeth in envy that he should be so great.

"And so, because there was weight to his words, he counselled peace;
and he journeyed to every potlatch and feast and tribal gathering that
he might counsel peace. And so it came that we journeyed together,
Ligoun and I, to the great feast given by Niblack, who was chief over
the river Indians of the Skoot, which is not far from the Stickeen.
This was in the last days, and Ligoun was very old and very close to
death. He coughed of cold weather and camp smoke, and often the red
blood ran from out his mouth till we looked for him to die.

"'Nay,' he said once at such time; 'it were better that I should die
when the blood leaps to the knife, and there is a clash of steel and
smell of powder, and men crying aloud what of the cold iron and quick
lead.' So, it be plain, O Hair-Face, that his heart was yet strong for
battle.

"It is very far from the Chilcat to the Skoot, and we were many days
in the canoes. And the while the men bent to the paddles, I sat at the
feet of Ligoun and received the Law. Of small need for me to say the
Law, O Hair-Face, for it be known to me that in this thou art well
skilled. Yet do I speak of the Law of blood for blood, and rank for
rank. Also did Ligoun go deeper into the matter, saying:--

"'But know this, O Olo, that there be little honor in the killing of a
man less than thee. Kill always the man who is greater, and thy honor
shall be according to his greatness. But if, of two men, thou killest
the lesser, then is shame thine, for which the very squaws will lift
their lips at thee. As I say, peace be good; but remember, O Olo, if
kill thou must, that thou killest by the Law.'

"It is a way of the Thlinket-folk," Palitlum vouchsafed half
apologetically.

And I remembered the gun-fighters and bad men of my own Western land,
and was not perplexed at the way of the Thlinket-folk.

"In time," Palitlum continued, "we came to Chief Niblack and the
Skoots. It was a feast great almost as the potlatch of Ligoun. There
were we of the Chilcat, and the Sitkas, and the Stickeens who are
neighbors to the Skoots, and the Wrangels and the Hoonahs. There were
Sundowns and Tahkos from Port Houghton, and their neighbors the Awks
from Douglass Channel; the Naass River people, and the Tongas from
north of Dixon, and the Kakes who come from the island called
Kupreanoff. Then there were Siwashes from Vancouver, Cassiars from the
Gold Mountains, Teslin men, and even Sticks from the Yukon Country.

"It was a mighty gathering. But first of all, there was to be a
meeting of the chiefs with Niblack, and a drowning of all enmities in
quass. The Russians it was who showed us the way of making quass, for
so my father told me,--my father, who got it from his father before
him. But to this quass had Niblack added many things, such as sugar,
flour, dried apples, and hops, so that it was a man's drink, strong
and good. Not so good as 'Three Star,' O Hair-Face, yet good.

"This quass-feast was for the chiefs, and the chiefs only, and there
was a score of them. But Ligoun being very old and very great, it was
given that I walk with him that he might lean upon my shoulder and
that I might ease him down when he took his seat and raise him up when
he arose. At the door of Niblack's house, which was of logs and very
big, each chief, as was the custom, laid down his spear or rifle and
his knife. For as thou knowest, O Hair-Face, strong drink quickens,
and old hates flame up, and head and hand are swift to act. But I
noted that Ligoun had brought two knives, the one he left outside the
door, the other slipped under his blanket, snug to the grip. The other
chiefs did likewise, and I was troubled for what was to come.

"The chiefs were ranged, sitting, in a big circle about the room. I
stood at Ligoun's elbow. In the middle was the barrel of quass, and by
it a slave to serve the drink. First, Niblack made oration, with much
show of friendship and many fine words. Then he gave a sign, and the
slave dipped a gourd full of quass and passed it to Ligoun, as was
fit, for his was the highest rank.

"Ligoun drank it, to the last drop, and I gave him my strength to get
on his feet so that he, too, might make oration. He had kind speech
for the many tribes, noted the greatness of Niblack to give such a
feast, counselled for peace as was his custom, and at the end said
that the quass was very good.

"Then Niblack drank, being next of rank to Ligoun, and after him one
chief and another in degree and order. And each spoke friendly words
and said that the quass was good, till all had drunk. Did I say all?
Nay, not all, O Hair-Face. For last of them was one, a lean and
catlike man, young of face, with a quick and daring eye, who drank
darkly, and spat forth upon the ground, and spoke no word.

"To not say that the quass was good were insult; to spit forth upon
the ground were worse than insult. And this very thing did he do. He
was known for a chief over the Sticks of the Yukon, and further naught
was known of him.

"As I say, it was an insult. But mark this, O Hair-Face: it was an
insult, not to Niblack the feast-giver, but to the man chiefest of
rank who sat among those of the circle. And that man was Ligoun. There
was no sound. All eyes were upon him to see what he might do. He made
no movement. His withered lips trembled not into speech; nor did a
nostril quiver, nor an eyelid droop. But I saw that he looked wan
and gray, as I have seen old men look of bitter mornings when famine
pressed, and the women wailed and the children whimpered, and there
was no meat nor sign of meat. And as the old men looked, so looked
Ligoun.

"There was no sound. It were as a circle of the dead, but that each
chief felt beneath his blanket to make sure, and that each chief
glanced to his neighbor, right and left, with a measuring eye. I was
a stripling; the things I had seen were few; yet I knew it to be the
moment one meets but once in all a lifetime.

"The Stick rose up, with every eye upon him, and crossed the room till
he stood before Ligoun.

"'I am Opitsah, the Knife,' he said.

"But Ligoun said naught, nor looked at him, but gazed unblinking at
the ground.

"'You are Ligoun,' Opitsah said. 'You have killed many men. I am still
alive.'

"And still Ligoun said naught, though he made the sign to me and with
my strength arose and stood upright on his two feet. He was as an old
pine, naked and gray, but still a-shoulder to the frost and storm. His
eyes were unblinking, and as he had not heard Opitsah, so it seemed he
did not see him.

"And Opitsah was mad with anger, and danced stiff-legged before him,
as men do when they wish to give another shame. And Opitsah sang a
song of his own greatness and the greatness of his people, filled with
bad words for the Chilcats and for Ligoun. And as he danced and sang,
Opitsah threw off his blanket and with his knife drew bright circles
before the face of Ligoun. And the song he sang was the Song of the
Knife.

"And there was no other sound, only the singing of Opitsah, and the
circle of chiefs that were as dead, save that the flash of the knife
seemed to draw smouldering fire from their eyes. And Ligoun, also, was
very still. Yet did he know his death, and was unafraid. And the knife
sang closer and yet closer to his face, but his eyes were unblinking
and he swayed not to right or left, or this way or that.

"And Opitsah drove in the knife, so, twice on the forehead of Ligoun,
and the red blood leaped after it. And then it was that Ligoun gave me
the sign to bear up under him with my youth that he might walk. And he
laughed with a great scorn, full in the face of Opitsah, the Knife.
And he brushed Opitsah to the side, as one brushes to the side a
low-hanging branch on the trail and passes on.

"And I knew and understood, for there was but shame in the killing of
Opitsah before the faces of a score of greater chiefs. I remembered
the Law, and knew Ligoun had it in mind to kill by the Law. And who,
chiefest of rank but himself, was there but Niblack? And toward
Niblack, leaning on my arm, he walked. And to his other arm, clinging
and striking, was Opitsah, too small to soil with his blood the hands
of so great a man. And though the knife of Opitsah bit in again and
again, Ligoun noted it not, nor winced. And in this fashion we three
went our way across the room, Niblack sitting in his blanket and
fearful of our coming.

"And now old hates flamed up and forgotten grudges were remembered.
Lamuk, a Kake, had had a brother drowned in the bad water of the
Stickeen, and the Stickeens had not paid in blankets for their bad
water, as was the custom to pay. So Lamuk drove straight with his
long knife to the heart of Klok-Kutz the Stickeen. And Katchahook
remembered a quarrel of the Naass River people with the Tongas of
north of Dixon, and the chief of the Tongas he slew with a pistol
which made much noise. And the blood-hunger gripped all the men who
sat in the circle, and chief slew chief, or was slain, as chance might
be. Also did they stab and shoot at Ligoun, for whoso killed him won
great honor and would be unforgotten for the deed. And they were about
him like wolves about a moose, only they were so many they were in
their own way, and they slew one another to make room. And there was
great confusion.

"But Ligoun went slowly, without haste, as though many years were yet
before him. It seemed that he was certain he would make his kill, in
his own way, ere they could slay him. And as I say, he went slowly,
and knives bit into him, and he was red with blood. And though none
sought after me, who was a mere stripling, yet did the knives find me,
and the hot bullets burn me. And still Ligoun leaned his weight on my
youth, and Opitsah struck at him, and we three went forward. And when
we stood by Niblack, he was afraid, and covered his head with his
blanket. The Skoots were ever cowards.

"And Goolzug and Kadishan, the one a fish-eater and the other a
meat-killer, closed together for the honor of their tribes. And they
raged madly about, and in their battling swung against the knees of
Opitsah, who was overthrown and trampled upon. And a knife, singing
through the air, smote Skulpin, of the Sitkas, in the throat, and he
flung his arms out blindly, reeling, and dragged me down in his fall.

"And from the ground I beheld Ligoun bend over Niblack, and uncover
the blanket from his head, and turn up his face to the light. And
Ligoun was in no haste. Being blinded with his own blood, he swept
it out of his eyes with the back of his hand, so he might see and be
sure. And when he was sure that the upturned face was the face of
Niblack, he drew the knife across his throat as one draws a knife
across the throat of a trembling deer. And then Ligoun stood erect,
singing his death-song and swaying gently to and fro. And Skulpin, who
had dragged me down, shot with a pistol from where he lay, and Ligoun
toppled and fell, as an old pine topples and falls in the teeth of the
wind."

Palitlum ceased. His eyes, smouldering moodily, were bent upon the
fire, and his cheek was dark with blood.

"And thou, Palitlum?" I demanded. "And thou?"

"I? I did remember the Law, and I slew Opitsah the Knife, which was
well. And I drew Ligoun's own knife from the throat of Niblack, and
slew Skulpin, who had dragged me down. For I was a stripling, and I
could slay any man and it were honor. And further, Ligoun being dead,
there was no need for my youth, and I laid about me with his knife,
choosing the chiefest of rank that yet remained."

Palitlum fumbled under his shirt and drew forth a beaded sheath, and
from the sheath, a knife. It was a knife home-wrought and crudely
fashioned from a whip-saw file; a knife such as one may find possessed
by old men in a hundred Alaskan villages.

"The knife of Ligoun?" I said, and Palitlum nodded.

"And for the knife of Ligoun," I said, "will I give thee ten bottles
of 'Three Star.'"

But Palitlum looked at me slowly. "Hair-Face, I am weak as water, and
easy as a woman. I have soiled my belly with quass, and hooch, and
'Three Star.' My eyes are blunted, my ears have lost their keenness,
and my strength has gone into fat. And I am without honor in these
days, and am called Palitlum, the Drinker. Yet honor was mine at the
potlatch of Niblack, on the Skoot, and the memory of it, and the
memory of Ligoun, be dear to me. Nay, didst thou turn the sea itself
into 'Three Star' and say that it were all mine for the knife, yet
would I keep the knife. I am Palitlum, the Drinker, but I was once
Olo, the Ever-Hungry, who bore up Ligoun with his youth!"

"Thou art a great man, Palitlum," I said, "and I honor thee."

Palitlum reached out his hand.

"The 'Three Star' between thy knees be mine for the tale I have told,"
he said.

And as I looked on the frown of the cliff at our backs, I saw the
shadow of a man's torso, monstrous beneath a huge inverted bottle.