{"id":56,"date":"2021-03-30T14:53:29","date_gmt":"2021-03-30T18:53:29","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.ryerson.ca\/flintandfeather\/?post_type=chapter&p=56"},"modified":"2022-02-04T08:50:00","modified_gmt":"2022-02-04T13:50:00","slug":"the-cattle-thief","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/chapter\/the-cattle-thief\/","title":{"raw":"The Cattle Thief","rendered":"The Cattle Thief"},"content":{"raw":"They were coming across the prairie, they were\r\ngalloping hard and fast;\r\nFor the eyes of those desperate riders had sighted\r\ntheir man at last\u2014\r\nSighted him off to Eastward, where the Cree\r\nencampment lay,\r\nWhere the cotton woods fringed the river, miles and\r\nmiles away.\r\nMistake him? Never! Mistake him? the famous\r\nEagle Chief!\r\nThat terror to all the settlers, that desperate Cattle\r\nThief\u2014\r\nThat monstrous, fearless Indian, who lorded it over\r\nthe plain,\r\nWho thieved and raided, and scouted, who rode like\r\na hurricane!\r\nBut they\u2019ve tracked him across the prairie; they\u2019ve\r\nfollowed him hard and fast;\r\nFor those desperate English settlers have sighted\r\ntheir man at last.\r\n\r\nUp they wheeled to the tepees, all their British\r\nblood aflame,\r\nBent on bullets and bloodshed, bent on bringing\r\ndown their game;\r\nBut they searched in vain for the Cattle Thief: that\r\nlion had left his lair,\r\nAnd they cursed like a troop of demons\u2014for the\r\nwomen alone were there.\r\n\u201cThe sneaking Indian coward,\u201d they hissed; \u201che\r\nhides while yet he can;\r\nHe\u2019ll come in the night for cattle, but he\u2019s scared\r\nto face a man.\u201d\r\n\u201cNever!\u201d and up from the cotton woods rang the\r\nvoice of Eagle Chief;\r\nAnd right out into the open stepped, unarmed, the\r\nCattle Thief.\r\nWas that the game they had coveted? Scarce fifty\r\nyears had rolled\r\nOver that fleshless, hungry frame, starved to the\r\nbone and old;\r\nOver that wrinkled, tawny skin, unfed by the\r\nwarmth of blood.\r\nOver those hungry, hollow eyes that glared for the\r\nsight of food.\r\n\r\nHe turned, like a hunted lion: \u201cI know not fear,\u201d\r\nsaid he;\r\nAnd the words outleapt from his shrunken lips in\r\nthe language of the Cree.\r\n\u201cI\u2019ll fight you, white-skins, one by one, till I\r\nkill you all,\u201d he said;\r\nBut the threat was scarcely uttered, ere a dozen\r\nballs of lead\r\nWhizzed through the air about him like a shower\r\nof metal rain,\r\nAnd the gaunt old Indian Cattle Thief dropped\r\ndead on the open plain.\r\nAnd that band of cursing settlers gave one\r\ntriumphant yell,\r\nAnd rushed like a pack of demons on the body that\r\nwrithed and fell.\r\n\u201cCut the fiend up into inches, throw his carcass\r\non the plain;\r\nLet the wolves eat the cursed Indian, he\u2019d have\r\ntreated us the same.\u201d\r\nA dozen hands responded, a dozen knives gleamed\r\nhigh,\r\nBut the first stroke was arrested by a woman\u2019s\r\nstrange, wild cry.\r\nAnd out into the open, with a courage past\r\nbelief,\r\nShe dashed, and spread her blanket o\u2019er the corpse\r\nof the Cattle Thief;\r\nAnd the words outleapt from her shrunken lips in\r\nthe language of the Cree,\r\n\u201cIf you mean to touch that body, you must cut\r\nyour way through me.\u201d\r\nAnd that band of cursing settlers dropped\r\nbackward one by one,\r\nFor they knew that an Indian woman roused, was\r\na woman to let alone.\r\nAnd then she raved in a frenzy that they scarcely\r\nunderstood,\r\nRaved of the wrongs she had suffered since her\r\nearliest babyhood:\r\n\u201cStand back, stand back, you white-skins, touch\r\nthat dead man to your shame;\r\nYou have stolen my father\u2019s spirit, but his body I\r\nonly claim.\r\nYou have killed him, but you shall not dare to\r\ntouch him now he\u2019s dead.\r\nYou have cursed, and called him a Cattle Thief,\r\nthough you robbed him first of bread\u2014\r\nRobbed him and robbed my people\u2014look there, at\r\nthat shrunken face,\r\nStarved with a hollow hunger, we owe to you and\r\nyour race.\r\nWhat have you left to us of land, what have you\r\nleft of game,\r\nWhat have you brought but evil, and curses since\r\nyou came?\r\nHow have you paid us for our game? how paid us\r\nfor our land?\r\nBy a book, to save our souls from the sins you\r\nbrought in your other hand.\r\nGo back with your new religion, we never have\r\nunderstood\r\nYour robbing an Indian\u2019s body, and mocking his\r\nsoul with food.\r\nGo back with your new religion, and find\u2014if find\r\nyou can\u2014\r\nThe honest man you have ever made from out a\r\nstarving man.\r\nYou say your cattle are not ours, your meat is not\r\nour meat;\r\nWhen you pay for the land you live in, we\u2019ll pay\r\nfor the meat we eat.\r\nGive back our land and our country, give back our\r\nherds of game;\r\nGive back the furs and the forests that were ours\r\nbefore you came;\r\nGive back the peace and the plenty. Then come\r\nwith your new belief,\r\nAnd blame, if you dare, the hunger that drove him to\r\nbe a thief.\u201d","rendered":"

They were coming across the prairie, they were
\ngalloping hard and fast;
\nFor the eyes of those desperate riders had sighted
\ntheir man at last\u2014
\nSighted him off to Eastward, where the Cree
\nencampment lay,
\nWhere the cotton woods fringed the river, miles and
\nmiles away.
\nMistake him? Never! Mistake him? the famous
\nEagle Chief!
\nThat terror to all the settlers, that desperate Cattle
\nThief\u2014
\nThat monstrous, fearless Indian, who lorded it over
\nthe plain,
\nWho thieved and raided, and scouted, who rode like
\na hurricane!
\nBut they\u2019ve tracked him across the prairie; they\u2019ve
\nfollowed him hard and fast;
\nFor those desperate English settlers have sighted
\ntheir man at last.<\/p>\n

Up they wheeled to the tepees, all their British
\nblood aflame,
\nBent on bullets and bloodshed, bent on bringing
\ndown their game;
\nBut they searched in vain for the Cattle Thief: that
\nlion had left his lair,
\nAnd they cursed like a troop of demons\u2014for the
\nwomen alone were there.
\n\u201cThe sneaking Indian coward,\u201d they hissed; \u201che
\nhides while yet he can;
\nHe\u2019ll come in the night for cattle, but he\u2019s scared
\nto face a man.\u201d
\n\u201cNever!\u201d and up from the cotton woods rang the
\nvoice of Eagle Chief;
\nAnd right out into the open stepped, unarmed, the
\nCattle Thief.
\nWas that the game they had coveted? Scarce fifty
\nyears had rolled
\nOver that fleshless, hungry frame, starved to the
\nbone and old;
\nOver that wrinkled, tawny skin, unfed by the
\nwarmth of blood.
\nOver those hungry, hollow eyes that glared for the
\nsight of food.<\/p>\n

He turned, like a hunted lion: \u201cI know not fear,\u201d
\nsaid he;
\nAnd the words outleapt from his shrunken lips in
\nthe language of the Cree.
\n\u201cI\u2019ll fight you, white-skins, one by one, till I
\nkill you all,\u201d he said;
\nBut the threat was scarcely uttered, ere a dozen
\nballs of lead
\nWhizzed through the air about him like a shower
\nof metal rain,
\nAnd the gaunt old Indian Cattle Thief dropped
\ndead on the open plain.
\nAnd that band of cursing settlers gave one
\ntriumphant yell,
\nAnd rushed like a pack of demons on the body that
\nwrithed and fell.
\n\u201cCut the fiend up into inches, throw his carcass
\non the plain;
\nLet the wolves eat the cursed Indian, he\u2019d have
\ntreated us the same.\u201d
\nA dozen hands responded, a dozen knives gleamed
\nhigh,
\nBut the first stroke was arrested by a woman\u2019s
\nstrange, wild cry.
\nAnd out into the open, with a courage past
\nbelief,
\nShe dashed, and spread her blanket o\u2019er the corpse
\nof the Cattle Thief;
\nAnd the words outleapt from her shrunken lips in
\nthe language of the Cree,
\n\u201cIf you mean to touch that body, you must cut
\nyour way through me.\u201d
\nAnd that band of cursing settlers dropped
\nbackward one by one,
\nFor they knew that an Indian woman roused, was
\na woman to let alone.
\nAnd then she raved in a frenzy that they scarcely
\nunderstood,
\nRaved of the wrongs she had suffered since her
\nearliest babyhood:
\n\u201cStand back, stand back, you white-skins, touch
\nthat dead man to your shame;
\nYou have stolen my father\u2019s spirit, but his body I
\nonly claim.
\nYou have killed him, but you shall not dare to
\ntouch him now he\u2019s dead.
\nYou have cursed, and called him a Cattle Thief,
\nthough you robbed him first of bread\u2014
\nRobbed him and robbed my people\u2014look there, at
\nthat shrunken face,
\nStarved with a hollow hunger, we owe to you and
\nyour race.
\nWhat have you left to us of land, what have you
\nleft of game,
\nWhat have you brought but evil, and curses since
\nyou came?
\nHow have you paid us for our game? how paid us
\nfor our land?
\nBy a book, to save our souls from the sins you
\nbrought in your other hand.
\nGo back with your new religion, we never have
\nunderstood
\nYour robbing an Indian\u2019s body, and mocking his
\nsoul with food.
\nGo back with your new religion, and find\u2014if find
\nyou can\u2014
\nThe honest man you have ever made from out a
\nstarving man.
\nYou say your cattle are not ours, your meat is not
\nour meat;
\nWhen you pay for the land you live in, we\u2019ll pay
\nfor the meat we eat.
\nGive back our land and our country, give back our
\nherds of game;
\nGive back the furs and the forests that were ours
\nbefore you came;
\nGive back the peace and the plenty. Then come
\nwith your new belief,
\nAnd blame, if you dare, the hunger that drove him to
\nbe a thief.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":251,"menu_order":4,"template":"","meta":{"pb_show_title":"on","pb_short_title":"","pb_subtitle":"","pb_authors":[],"pb_section_license":""},"chapter-type":[48],"contributor":[],"license":[],"class_list":["post-56","chapter","type-chapter","status-publish","hentry","chapter-type-numberless"],"part":3,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/56","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/chapter"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/251"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/56\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":303,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/56\/revisions\/303"}],"part":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/parts\/3"}],"metadata":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/56\/metadata\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=56"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"chapter-type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapter-type?post=56"},{"taxonomy":"contributor","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/contributor?post=56"},{"taxonomy":"license","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/license?post=56"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}