All day long the two travelled steadily forward, stopping only once or twice to look at the packs, and to smoke. The pack horses followed their leader pretty well, and gave Jack little trouble, so that he was free to look about him and enjoy the bright sun, the cool breeze, and the birds and animals that from time to time showed themselves near them. There was no trail, but Hugh seemed to be travelling north without any land marks to guide him. During one of their halts Jack asked Hugh where they would camp that night.
"Well, we can camp most anywhere, for we'll find plenty of water toward the end of the afternoon. We'll either come on La Bonté, or on some little creek running into it. There's good feed anywhere, and wood enough for us, too. I reckon we'll have to picket all the horses to-night, and maybe every night for the next week, but after that it will be enough if we picket three of 'em, and let the other three drag their ropes. After they once get used to being together they ain't none of 'em likely to wander off, without the whole bunch goes."
"It would be pretty bad if we were to lose our horses, wouldn't it, Hugh?"
"It sure would," was the reply; "there's mighty few things that's worse than being left afoot on the prairie. I often wonder how it was in the old times, when one of the Companies would send a man off to go on foot two or three hundred miles, with no grub, and one blanket and a copper kettle, and maybe twelve balls."
"How do you mean, Hugh; twelve balls?"
"Why, don't you know," said Hugh, "in them days, when a man worked for one of the Fur Companies they only gave him just so much powder and lead. Of course, ammunition came high then, and they might send a man off to make a long journey on foot and not give him any grub, and just six or eight or ten charges for his gun, expecting him to kill whatever he ate. Travelling in this country in them days couldn't have been much fun."
"I should think not. But suppose such a man met Indians, and had to fight; what would he do then?"
"Well," said Hugh, "them men didn't calculate to fight; they calculated to keep out of sight; and then the Indians weren't right mean then. If they found a fellow travelling on the prairie they'd charge up to him and scare him about half to death, but likely they wouldn't hurt him. Maybe they'd just talk to him and let him go, or at worst they'd take his gun and his clothes, everything that he had, and turn him loose."
"But then I should think he'd starve to death."
"Well, I expect maybe a good many men did starve to death that nobody ever heard of. It's a sure thing that lots of men started out to go from one place to another, and never got to the other place."
"Did you ever have to do that, Hugh?" said Jack.
"No," said Hugh, "I never did. Fact is, I never worked regular for no fur company, I was always a free trapper, as they called it, until beaver went out, and trapping was over; then I hired out to the Government, and took parties of troops around over the country, fellows that were making maps; and some seasons I guided emigrant trains, and hunted for posts. One or two years I traded with Indians, working for Bent and St. Vrain. I liked that about as well as any work I ever did. Then presently the railroad came along, and I got work with them; and by-and-by I settled down to kind o' learn the cow-punching trade, and here I am to-day."
"My, Hugh! you must have seen an awful lot in all this time. How many years is it since you first came out?"
"It'll be forty-three years next August since I started from old Kentucky. I was sixteen years old then, and that same fall I got out to St. Joe, and I have been travelling the prairie ever since."
"Forty-three years ago!" said Jack, thoughtfully; "then you must be fifty-nine."
"Yes, I am fifty-nine years old, and I expect I look it, don't I?"
"Yes, you do look pretty old, but I think that's because your hair and beard are white; your face doesn't look old."
"Well, I'm old enough to have learned a heap, and I expect if I was fifteen years old to-day, and knowed as much as I know now, and was back in old Kentucky, I'd stop right there."
The sun was drawing toward the western horizon when, on riding over the crest of the hill, Jack saw a mile or two before him a long winding line of dark green, which he knew to be the timber that marked the course of a stream. Many antelope were feeding on the slope down which they passed, and these seemed to be quite fearless, and moved out of the way slowly as the train drew near them. The stream was a small one, but flowed through a wide, level bottom, and Hugh, directing his course toward a group of cottonwood trees, drew up under them, dismounted, and throwing down his bridle rein, said, "Let's camp."
In a very short time the loads were taken from the animals, and piled on the ground at the foot of one of the trees; the saddles were placed on the packs, and the blankets upsidedown on the saddles, so that any moisture on them might dry, and the mantas were thrown on the ground nearby, and would be used at night to cover the riggings and the goods, so as to protect them from wet in case of rain. A lariat was tied to the neck of each horse, and they were allowed to wander at will over the bottom, except old Baldy, whose rope was tied to a bush.
"It's a pretty good thing," Hugh explained, "to have one horse anchored where you know you can get at him. Might be such a thing that something would scare these horses and they'd all take off over the bluffs, but if we've got one riding horse where we can put our hands on him, we can get 'em back easy enough, while if we had to chase 'em afoot it might be a long, slow business. Now, son," he went on, "you take this kettle and get a bucket o' water, and I'll start a fire, and we'll have some supper."
Jack picked up the bucket and started down to the stream, but before he had taken a half dozen steps Hugh called him back.
"I guess you've forgot something, ain't you?" he said; and then when Jack looked puzzled, he went on to say, "Now, son, I've got to say over again to you something that I said last summer; that's a long time ago, and I don't much wonder you forgot it. We're going into a strange country now, and we may meet strange people, maybe enemies, so you'd better just get into the way of packing your gun around with you wherever you go, it ain't a very heavy load to carry, and you may want it bad some time."
Jack had not taken off his cartridge belt, and he stepped over and picked up his rifle, and then went and got the water. By the time he had returned, Hugh had kindled a fire and had brought quite a pile of wood, and Jack helped him to gather more; so that before long they had more than they could use during the night. It did not take long to cook their simple supper, which consisted only of bacon, bread and coffee. While they were doing it, Hugh remarked, "I don't believe it's going to rain to-night, and I don't think it's worth while to put up a tent, unless you want it."
"No indeed," said Jack, "I'd rather sleep in the open air, unless we're likely to have a storm."
"Well, let it go at that.
"Now, there's one thing we've got to do, and that is to keep a lot of picket pins on hand until these horses get wonted. I put a half dozen hard wood pins in the gunny sack in the mess box, but we'll be losing them right along, and I believe I'll go to work on an old lodge pole that's lying over here in the brush and make some pins for to-night. You might go out and get around them horses and start them back this way; they're working too far up the creek. Don't chase 'em or scare 'em; just go around 'em and drive 'em slowly until you get their heads turned this way. If you should see a buck antelope on the way, you might kill him, if you can, and we'll put him on one of the packs and take him along."
"I'd like to do that, Hugh, but there ain't much likelihood of seeing an antelope down in the bottom, is there?"
"Oh, I don't know," said Hugh; "you might see one; or you might jump a deer out of some of this brush. Don't kill a doe, though; she won't be no account to eat; and don't go too far, and mind you keep your eye out for signs. If you see any people, or sign of where people's been lately, get back to camp as quick as you can."
The horses had been feeding away from camp, and some of them were already hidden among the underbrush that grew in the valley. Jack walked over to the foot of the bluffs, and up the stream half a mile, and then, having got beyond the horses, he walked quietly toward them, turned them down the stream toward camp, followed them to the edge of the brush, and saw that they were now busily feeding in the right direction; then he turned about and walked up the stream.
He had not gone far when he saw in the sand at the edge of the creek the tracks of two deer, one set quite large, and the other rather small. He looked carefully about him in all directions but could see nothing, though the tracks seemed quite fresh. Keeping on up the stream, walking very quietly, stopping often to look all about him, he came to the edge of a little meadow, almost surrounded by bushes, and there, as he paused before stepping out of the brush, he saw near the other side, two deer.
Luckily for him, the gentle breeze was blowing down the stream, and so the deer did not smell him. When he first saw them their heads were down, and what first caught his eye was the rapid side-wise motion of the white tail of one of the animals. Almost as he stopped, the deer raised their heads, looked about for a moment, and then began to feed again. He could see that both of them had small horns, and yet one seemed quite a large deer. They were not far off, only about sixty yards, and Jack quietly dropped on his knee, slipped a cartridge into his gun, and made ready to fire. He hesitated a little, for both deer stood with their hips almost toward him, and he hoped that in a moment or two they might change their positions, so as to give him a broadside shot. Presently that very thing happened; the larger deer turned a little to the left, and then still more, so that its shoulder and side presented a fair mark. The next time that it raised its head and stood quite still, Jack drew a very fine bead on it, behind the shoulder and low down, and fired.
The deer leaped high into the air, and with two or three graceful bounds, disappeared into the underbrush, followed by its companion. "I wonder if I missed it," thought Jack; "it don't seem possible that I could have done that, for it was standing still, and I don't think I felt a particle nervous. I believe I'll go over there and try to follow their tracks a little way, anyhow."
When he had reached the place where the deer had been standing, their hoof-prints were plain in the soil, and following the direction they had gone, he saw other deep tracks, where they had made long leaps. He was so interested in following these tracks, that he almost forgot the question of whether he had missed or not, but suddenly, to his surprise, as he was puzzling out the tracks, he saw that the leaves of the brush, through which he was passing, were smeared with blood. "By jimminy!" thought Jack, "I did hit him! And now I wonder if I can find him." Looking carefully both for blood and tracks, he soon saw that the deer was bleeding freely, and that he need no longer look for tracks, since the blood on the underbrush and the grass and weeds was a constant guide to him. He had gone only forty or fifty yards, though to him it seemed much longer, when suddenly he stepped out of the brush at the foot of the bluffs, and saw, lying a few yards before him, the deer, dead on the grass. The other deer was standing nearby, looking back, as if puzzled, and Jack was strongly tempted to take a shot at it, but he reflected that one deer was more than they could use, and that it would be wasteful as well as cruel to kill a second.
As Jack stepped out into the open, the other deer stood for a moment looking at him, and then trotted off up the slope, stopping once or twice within easy shot, and looking back, but at last disappeared over the hilltop. The deer on the ground was quite dead, and the position of the bullet hole showed that it must have been shot through the heart.
Jack drew his butcher knife from its sheath, bled the deer, and began to butcher it. He had often seen this done by other people, but this was the first attempt at it that he had ever made, and he found it not so easy as it looked. He worked slowly and awkwardly, and once was tempted to give the job up, and go back and get Hugh to do it. Still, he persevered, and although now the sun had set, he was still cutting and pulling, absorbed in his task, when a voice at his elbow said, "Well, you've got some meat, I see;" and looking up, he saw Hugh standing by him.
"I heard you shoot," said Hugh, "and when you didn't come back, I allowed you might have trouble getting your meat into camp, and so I came along. Now, it's getting late and you'd better let me finish that job."
"I wish you would, Hugh; it's the first animal I ever butchered, and though I've seen you do it a good many times, I find I don't know how."
"Well, it does look a little bit as if the rats had been gnawing at it." He took out his own knife and made a few quick cuts, which finished the work; then, cutting off the deer's head he laid his rifle on the ground, lifted the carcass on his back, and then, telling Jack to hand him the rifle, which he rested across the deer's legs before him, he strode off toward camp.
When they reached camp, Jack saw that the six horses were picketed close at hand; that the beds were unrolled and spread out on the ground, beneath one of the larger trees, and that the fire was burning cheerily.
"Now," said Hugh, as he threw the deer's carcass on the ground, "let's get the jacket off this fellow, and hang him up in the tree to cool."
The operation of skinning the deer and hanging it up did not take long, but before this was ended, night had fallen. Hugh lighted his pipe, and then sat by the fire for a little while, staring at it, and Jack lay at full length beside him, and as they sat there, told Hugh about how he had found and killed the deer.
"Well, son," said the old man, "I'm mighty glad we got that meat; it'll make things a heap more comfortable for us for the next few days. Now, we want to go to bed pretty quick, and get all the sleep we can. You know the nights are pretty short this time o' year, and we want to be up by daylight to-morrow morning and change them horses to fresh grass, and let 'em feed while we're getting breakfast; and then as soon as we're through, pack up and get started again. We've got a long way to go, and the quicker we get to the Piegan camp the better I'll be suited. We're likely to have plenty of delays on the road, and I want to make the best time I can."
The next morning they were up bright and early. The horses were all standing where they had been picketed the night before, and after the fire was kindled, Jack and Hugh went to them, took up the picket pins, and moved each horse so that he might have fresh grass to eat; then while Hugh prepared breakfast, Jack rolled up the beds and prepared all the camp furniture except the mess kit for packing. When they loaded the horses the carcass of the deer was put on one of the packs, and presently they started off down the creek. That night they camped at the Platte River, and the next morning crossed it, and kept on north.
For many days they travelled northward, crossing some small streams, and then coming to the head of Powder River, and journeying along the divide on its east side. The marches that they made were not very long. The grass was good, there was plenty of water, and the loads were light; so that their horses kept in good condition and moved along briskly. After two or three nights Hugh picketed only four of the horses, permitting two to drag their ropes, and when morning came these two were found with the others. A little later he freed one more, and at last another one, so that finally there were only two horses confined at night. These were not always the same two, but usually the two riding horses were the ones on picket.
They made some slight changes in the packs, making two of them lighter and two heavier; and then, sometimes Jack, instead of riding Pawnee, let him carry a light pack, and rode the bay, while Hugh sometimes changed off to the dun or to the paint horse. One day when their stock of fresh meat was running low, since the deer had been almost eaten up, Hugh killed a buck antelope, which was in fair order; but they did no hunting, and travelled steadily.
One afternoon they camped on a small fork of Powder River, and after camp had been made and the horses picketed, Hugh proposed that they should take a little walk to the top of a high hill not far off, and see what could be seen. They started, going rather slowly, and stopping every now and then to look over the country with the field glass that Hugh carried. Nothing was seen except the wild animals of the prairie, and when they reached the top of the hill they sat down and took a long, long look. Hugh was carefully examining some distant object to the north when he felt himself pushed by Jack, and glancing around, saw that he was lying flat on the ground. Hugh very slowly lowered his head, and turning, looked in the direction in which Jack pointed. Coming up out of the ravine not far away, he saw a good sized grizzly bear, and following her, two little cubs. The cubs were still very small, and were cunning little creatures. They ran about fast yet clumsily, sometimes attacked each other and had a pretended fight, stood up on their hind legs and sparred at each other with their front paws, and then one chased the other as he ran wildly off over the hillside. Every now and then the mother would stop to look at them, and she seemed to take pleasure in their high spirits. Now and then she stood up on her hind legs and looked in all directions, and she was now so close to the top of the hill that they could see her wrinkle her nose as she sniffed the air. Jack whispered to Hugh, "Ain't they beauties! Wouldn't I like to have them back at the ranch. There's no way we could catch 'em and take 'em along, is there?"
"No," whispered Hugh; "the only thing you can do is to kill 'em."
"By Jove, I don't want to do that; they're too cunning."
The little family was now quite near the top of the hill, but was passing around it. Again the mother stood on her hind legs to look, and while she was doing this one of the cubs rushed up in front of her and sprang into the air, grasping her around the chest and the mother closed her arms about it and put her head down. The whole act seemed like the springing of a child into its mother's arms, and the mother kissing the child.
"The mother kissing the child."—Page 49
"By mighty!" said Hugh, "I can't shoot at that bear, and I don't believe you can either, son."
"Not much, we'll let them go."
They lay there and watched the bears go around the hill, and presently the old one saw the horses and the camp equipage far below in the valley. She stood on her hind legs and looked for a long time, evidently much puzzled as to what these strange objects were, but after looking for awhile she came down on all fours again, called her young ones to her by a low cry, trotted off around the hill out of sight, and then made her way back as she had come.
They watched her for a long time, until she was hidden behind the swells of the prairie, and then Jack sat up and said to Hugh, "That's the prettiest thing I ever saw, and I don't feel as if I ever could shoot at a bear again after seeing it."
"Well," said Hugh, "that's saying a good deal, but I tell you I wouldn't have shot at that bear for a farm."
The sun was low when they reached camp on their return. They had eaten when they made camp, but Hugh said that he believed that Jack could eat again, and they cooked a little meat and warmed up some of the coffee that was in the pot, and made up a good fire, by which they sat for a long time.
Hugh said, "I reckon this is about the last regular camp fire we can have. We're getting up into the country now where we're liable to run across Indians, and while I don't think there's a mite of danger to be looked for from any of 'em, still I'd just as leave they wouldn't see us."
"What Indians live in this country, Hugh?"
"Well," said Hugh, "the fact is it's Cheyenne country, but Sioux and Cheyennes live here, and Crows come into it; fact is, it's a kind of anybodys' country. The Piegans come down here and make war on the Crows and Cheyennes, and in old times the Pawnees used to come up here on their war journeys. You've got to keep your eye open here for all sorts of Indians."
"Well, Hugh, these Indians haven't always been hostile, have they?"
"Not so; there was a long time when they were friendly with everybody. It was only after white people began to come into the country and make trouble of one sort and another that the Indians got bad. You see, the white people didn't know nothing about Indians, and had a kind of an idea that the whites owned the whole country, and the Indians thought that they owned it, because they always had, up to that time; and then there was young men that stole white men's horses and likely some of 'em got killed; so that, on the whole, you can easy see how the wars began; they started about twenty-five years ago. Up to that time the tribes had been all pretty friendly. I won't say that there wasn't bad young men that did bad things, but the old men didn't approve of that, and when they could catch their young men doing anything o' that sort they'd punish them. Why, from 1851 to 1854, I was trading with Indians right along; that is, in winter."
"I wish you'd tell me about that, Hugh."
"Why, sure, I'll tell you all there is to tell. I hired out to old Corcoran one fall. He had a trading post down on the Platte, a little way east of the forks, and the Indians used to come in there sometimes, but there was other posts, and he didn't get as much trade as he thought he ought to; so he hired me to travel around to the camps, and stop with the Indians and trade with them, and fetch in what furs I got to the post. I started out that first winter with a big wagon, hauled by bulls, and with quite a lot o' trade goods, to find the Cheyenne camp. I remember we'd heard that they were up on Horse Creek, and I started up there. It took me a long time to get there, for bulls don't travel very fast, you know, and when I got there I found they'd moved over onto the Platte, so I had to follow 'em there, and when I got there they were just moving out to go further up the stream, to above where Fort Laramie stands, and I had to trail along with 'em. However, at last they got located for the winter, and I went into Spotted Wolf's lodge and lived there with him. After I got there and unpacked my goods, Spotted Wolf sent a crier out through the camp, and told the Indians that I was there and ready to trade, and before very long I had my store agoing."
"Well, what did you trade to them, Hugh?" asked Jack.
"Well, there's one thing I didn't trade to 'em, and that is whiskey. That was before the days when anybody thought of trading liquor to the Indians, though of course now and then in a fort they gave a man a dram, as they called it; but in them days there wasn't never no trading of liquor. I had tobacco and red cloth, and beads and little mirrors, and some silver coins that they used to hammer out plates from to wear on their heads."
"Oh, I know! I've seen pictures of Indians with great silver plates on their scalp locks, and big ones at the top and little ones running down to the end."
"That's it, that's just what I mean. Well, I lived pretty near the whole winter in that camp. The Indians had plenty of dried meat and back fat, and tongues, and we lived well. Once in a while I'd go out up into the hills and kill a deer, or a couple of antelope; and two or three times the buffalo came close to the camp, in good weather, so that we made a killing; so we had fresh meat during a good part of the winter. Along in the end of February or first of March I had all the robes and furs that my team could haul, and I started back. I'd taken a half breed boy with me to drive the bulls, and we got along all right till we got down pretty close to Scott's Bluffs. When we got there I noticed that one of the bulls was kind of sick. I didn't know what was the matter with him. We drove along till night, and camped, and the next morning that bull was dead. We went on, and the next day two more of the bulls seemed sick, and the next morning they were dead; so we couldn't go no further. I unloaded the wagon, piled up the bales of robes all around it, went into camp there, and sent the boy on to old Corcoran, to get some more bulls. I expected him back in about six or seven days, but I was eighteen days there in camp before he showed up again. I tell you, them was long days, too. Nothing to do except to sit there and watch them bales of fur, and cook three meals a day. I got terrible tired of it."
"After I'd been there about a week, one morning I saw an Indian dog on the prairie, about a hundred yards off. He was sneaking around, looking this way and that way, and when he saw me move about the camp, he just sat down and watched me. I walked outside my stockade and called to him, but he didn't pay no attention, just sat there. I was kind of uneasy when I saw him, for I thought maybe a party of Indians might be coming along, and if they did, and took a notion to them furs, there was nothing to stop them carrying 'em all off; but nobody showed up. The next morning the dog was still there. I went out and walked toward him, but as fast as I walked toward him, he walked away, and I couldn't get nearer than about a hundred yards; so I went back to the robes and figured what I should do. I wanted to get hold o' that dog, for I was powerful lonesome, and I thought he'd be kind o' company. I went back to the camp, and when I got there the dog had come back to the place where he was at first and was settin' there. I took a piece of dried meat and went out to where the dog was, and there I scattered a few chips of meat on the ground, and then went back to camp, and every few feet as I went I'd cut off a little piece of meat and drop it on the ground. When I got back, the dog had come to the place where I put the first meat, and was nosing around, picking it up, and after a while he struck the trail of meat toward camp, and came along pretty slowly, pretty shy and suspicious, until he was about half way between the place where he started and the stockade. He wouldn't come any further than that. I sat on the bale of robes and talked to him, and called him, and coaxed him, and he'd look at me and put back his ears and wag his tail, but he was afraid. I worked with that dog that way three days, before I could get him inside of the stockade, but on the fourth day he would come to me, as I sat by the fire, and take pieces of meat out of my hand, and after a while he lay down on the other side of the fire and went to sleep. That night I got my hand on him and patted him, and coaxed him, and then he saw that I was friendly, and from that time he wasn't afraid. I tell you he was good company to me, and I got to think a heap of him before that half breed got back. He was a pretty nice looking dog, too; had dark brown hair, so that he looked some like a beaver; so I called him Beaver. He got to know his name right soon, and he stayed with me for four years; and one time, when I was in the Cheyenne camp, he disappeared. I always believed some of them Cheyenne women got hold of him and killed him for a feast."
"Well, that's a good story, Hugh. I wish I could have been the boy that drove that team. I'd like to have spent a winter in an Indian camp; and above all, in those old times."
"Yes, son, I expect you'd have liked it right well. There was a heap o' difference between Indians then and now; they were right good people then, they hadn't picked up many white men's ways; so long as you treated 'em well they gave you the very best they had, and all you wanted of it. There wa'nt any beggars then, and the men you made friends with couldn't do enough for you. Of course when I went into old Spotted Wolf's lodge, and used it for a store and a boarding house, I made him some little presents, like two or three yards of red cloth, and three or four strings of beads and a mirror or two to his women. That is all it cost me to stop there all winter, board, lodging and mending all attended to for me."
"Well," said Jack, "I wish I could have seen some of those old days."
"You're going to see a heap this summer, son, that will be new to you, and you'll see a lot of old-time Indians and old-time Indian ways, up where we're going."
By this time darkness had fallen, and the sky was full of stars. The fire had burned down, and the air was growing cool. They spread their beds, and before long were sleeping soundly.
When Hugh and Jack started next morning the sky was overcast, and a cold wind blew from the north. Before they had travelled far, it began to rain. Soon the rain changed to snow and it grew very cold. They put on their coats and slickers, and for an hour or two travelled through a howling snow-storm. Suddenly the wind ceased, the snow stopped falling, the sun came out, and it grew very warm. The snow which had covered the ground speedily melted, and again they travelled along over a summer prairie.
It was near mid-day when Hugh suddenly drew up his horse, and motioned to Jack to ride up beside him. He pointed to the ground, where Jack saw many old tracks of horses, and besides these, a half dozen ruts in the soil, like those made by wagon wheels, but irregular, moving from side to side as they proceeded, and looking as if something had been dragged along the ground, following in some degree the inequalities of its surface. Jack could see that these marks, as well as the hoof prints, had been made a good while before, yet after the grass had begun to grow in the spring. The trail pointed nearly in the direction which they were following, so that by keeping on, they would cross it at an acute angle.
"There, son," said Hugh, "there's been a camp of people along here."
"Indians?"
"Yes, quite a bunch of 'em. There was quite a band of horses, and the lodge poles and travois, as you see, make a pretty big trail. I expect there must be a dozen lodges of 'em at least; maybe more."
"Oh," said Jack, "I was wondering what those queer marks were; those are the travois, are they?"
"Yes, them and the lodge poles. You know, when they're moving over the prairie they tie a bunch of lodge poles on either side of the horse, over his withers, and the big ends of the poles drag on the ground; that's what's cut the prairie up this way. Them people are going pretty near the same way we're going, but it's three or four weeks since they've passed. I've a notion we'll follow this trail for a while, and see which way they're going. If they seem to be going the same way we are, we'll branch off and travel closer to the mountains, where the country is rougher and there's more timber."
Hugh rode on, close by the trail, and Jack followed, driving the pack horses. A mile or two further along, Hugh stopped again, and Jack rode up to him. Hugh pointed again to the ground before him, and then got off and carefully inspected a moccasin track in the trail that looked much fresher than the others. "Well," said he, as he stood up after looking carefully at it, "I don't like that very much. Somebody's been along here quite a while after the bulk of these people passed. It's hard to tell much about that track, because it's been rained on, but it looks to me as if it wa'n't more'n a day or two old. You go back and drive the horses on slowly, and I'll see whether I can make anything out of this fresh trail or not."
For an hour or two Jack followed Hugh, who went on quite slowly, frequently dismounting and looking at a track, and then sometimes going on foot for some little distance before mounting again. At length the trail bore off considerably to the right, and here Hugh left it and struck off sharply to the left. A little later, he called Jack up to him and said, "There seems to be seven or eight men following that trail on foot, and I expect likely it's a war party that's going to try to catch that camp and steal their horses. If that's so, you and me want to get as far away as we can, and I expect the best thing we can do is to strike off toward the mountains, and when we camp to-night to cache as well as we can; and maybe we'll take an early start to-night, after the horses have fed and got rested, and make a quick drive, camping pretty early in the morning, and starting out again just before night, and ride half the night. I don't want to get mixed up in no squabbles between any Indians that we're likely to meet here a way."
They rode on pretty rapidly. Down in a little hollow they stopped, looked carefully over the packs, tightened all the saddles, and then remounting, started at a still better pace, trotting wherever it was level or down hill, and only walking the horses on the steeper slopes. By this time it had become very hot. Jack had tied his slicker and coat on behind the saddle, but was still uncomfortable under the broiling rays of the sun.
It was late in the afternoon when they reached the valley of a stream, and instead of camping in the broad open bottom, which offered a good place to picket the horses, Hugh rode up the stream to where the valley was dotted with frequent clumps of willows, and riding in among these, halted at the edge of a thick clump, midway between the stream and the bluffs.
"Let's unsaddle here," he said, "and tie up the horses among these willows; they ain't so likely to be seen, if anybody happens to look into the creek bed. We'll just build a little fire here, and cook, and then put it right out. I don't want to make no smoke if I can help it."
The loads of the horses and the camp were well concealed, and after the animals had drunk, they tied them rather short to the clumps of brush, intending to move them from time to time to fresh grass.
Although the sun was low now, it was still intensely hot; and down in the bottom, shut in by the bluffs, there was no air stirring. The willow brush, too, cut off what little wind blew up or down the creek, and Jack felt as if he were almost choked. They cooked and ate, and after they had done that, Hugh said, "I'm going up this ravine, back of camp, to get on a hill and take a look. You'd better stay here and watch the horses. Don't move around much, and if you see anybody, just keep out of sight all you can. Of course if anybody tries to take any of the horses, why you'll have to shoot, but I don't expect you'll see no one. I'll be back here pretty quick." Putting his pipe in his pocket, Hugh picked up his gun and disappeared in the willows, and Jack sat and sweltered in the heat.
Presently, he thought he would go down to the brook and get a drink; so he walked down there, and stood on a little gravelly beach, over which the water poured with a cool, merry rattle. In the stream there were little fish, and as his shadow fell upon it, they darted in all directions, in great alarm. He drank of the water, but it was not so cool as it looked, and then he wet his hands and his wrists and his head. This gave him some relief, and he thought he would take off his clothes and wet his body all over in a pool a foot or two deep, at the foot of the ripple. He put his gun down at the edge of the willows, quickly stripped off his clothes, stepped into the pool, and lay down in it. This was delicious. In a moment he forgot how hot he had been just before, and the water almost reminded him of the morning's ride through the snow storm. Still, as soon as he raised his body out of the stream he was warm enough again. After ducking under two or three times, he happened to look toward his clothes, and as he did so his heart almost stopped beating.
Standing by his clothing and gun, was a tall half-naked man with a robe hanging from his waist and an eagle feather tied in his head. He stood leaning on his gun and looked at Jack with a broad grin of triumph, which showed his white teeth. He did not have the long straight hair of an Indian; it was crisp and curled tight to his head, and his skin was not brown, but was black; in fact, he looked like a negro. All this Jack saw, but he had no time to reason about it. He realised only the one thing, that the man was standing over his gun and cartridge belt, while he was naked and unarmed. Jack cast a glance over his shoulder, with a half formed idea of running away, but in this direction there was no hope, for standing on the opposite bank of the stream, and within a few yards of him was an Indian. About this one, there could be no mistake; his brown trunk was naked, crossed by a belt which held a quiver, the feathered arrows projecting above his left shoulder; on either side of his face, his long hair hung down in braids, and in his right hand he carelessly held a bow and a sheaf of arrows. Crossing his body, over the right shoulder and under the left arm, was a coil of raw hide rope. Jack was surrounded. There was no escape.
Jack did not know what to do. He had never before felt so utterly helpless. He wished he had stayed at camp as Hugh had told him to, but it was all so quick that he was conscious of nothing except a horrible sinking of the heart, and this feeling that he was helpless. These men could kill or capture him. He could make no resistance. Before he had time to think, the man standing by his clothes raised his open right hand above his head, and moved it toward Jack, at the same time saying: "Keep quiet, don't be scared, sonny, you ain't agoin' to be hurt. I want to talk to you."
The sound of these words, spoken in English, gave Jack a tremendous sense of relief; it didn't seem that any one that spoke so good naturedly could wish to harm him. At that moment the Indian behind him called across to the other, and two or three sentences were exchanged between them. Then the negro, for such he proved to be, called out, "Come ashore, sonny, and put your clothes on. Don't be scared, you won't get hurt. I'll just move your gun a little, though, so it won't be in your way and then we'll talk." Saying this, he moved the gun and cartridge belt a few yards from the pile of clothing, and standing between Jack and his weapons, motioned towards the clothes which Jack began to put on. Then he said, "Where ye goin'?"
Jack had to swallow two or three times before he could speak aloud then he answered in a voice that shook a good deal, "We're going up north to the Piegan camp."
"What ye goin' to do there?" came next.
"We're going to visit John Monroe, and stay in the camp all summer."
"Who's them Piegans ye're talkin' about?" said the negro.
"Why," said Jack, "they're a tribe of Indians up north."
"Who's John Monroe, ye was speaking of?" said the negro.
"He's a half breed, Hugh says, that was raised in the Piegan camp; always lived with them. He was down last summer to our ranch, and he asked Hugh and me to come up this summer and visit him."
On receiving this reply, the negro thought for a little while, and then talked in the unknown tongue to his companion, who had now crossed the stream and was standing near Jack. After the two had spoken for a few moments, the negro again turned to Jack, and said, "Who's that old man ye're travellin' with?"
"That's Hugh Johnson," said Jack; "he works on my uncle's ranch, down south."
Suddenly the negro threw back his head and laughed very heartily for a long time; then he said to Jack, "Come on, sonny, and get your gun; we'll go to your camp with you. Seems queer, you all goin' up to see the Piegans, meet a Piegan war party down here. I'm a Piegan, myself. This here's young Bear Chief, and there's five other young men in this brush all around us. We see you when you come down, and young Bear Chief see the old man, and knowed him; but I thought we'd better make sure, and when he went upon the hill, and you come down here and went in swimmin', I thought we'd talk to you. You see, we're friendly," and he stepped up to Jack and shook hands with him heartily, and the Indian did the same.
"My name's Hezekiah Alexander," said the negro. He seemed delighted to have an opportunity to talk English. "I have been with the Piegans more'n twenty years. I was raised down in Tennessee, myself. I belonged to old Marster Alexander. One day the overseer give me a terrible hard whipping and I run. I was only thirteen years old. I smuggled myself on board a Memphis packet, and got across to the Illinois side, and worked north mighty quick. I came up into this country as boy for Mr. Culbertson, of the American Fur Company, but I didn't stay long with him, but joined these Indians, and been with 'em ever since. I got a wife and four babies in the camp: you'll see 'em this summer."
Jack had passed so quickly from despair to joy, and from joy to confidence that he had hardly recovered his self-possession or his voice as yet. Carrying his gun he led the way up to the camp, where, as soon as he came in sight of it, he saw Hugh standing, frowning, as if angry or puzzled, and holding his gun in the hollow of his left arm. As soon as they were close to camp, Jack called out, "It's all right, I guess, Hugh; these are Piegans;" but Hugh's expression did not alter until the Indian stepped up to him, and tapping his own breast, as he said, "Nínnah okyaíyu," stretched out his hand toward him. Then Hugh's face changed, and he smiled in recognition as he said, "Why, so it is," and shook hands very heartily with the young man.
While Hezekiah and Bear Chief talked eagerly to Hugh in the Piegan tongue, Jack had time to recover his equilibrium, and when he had done this he stared at the two strangers with all his eyes. They were dressed almost alike, but while Bear Chief's face was painted, Hezekiah's was not, and showed a thin mustache, but no beard. Bear Chief's scalplock hung down to between his shoulders, and was ornamented by a large flat pink shell, two inches in diameter. Hezekiah, of course, had no side braids, but he had a little short scalplock, which stuck straight out behind from his woolly head, and at the base of this, an eagle's feather was tied. Jack noticed that as the two talked with Hugh, Hezekiah frequently laughed loudly, while Bear Chief's face was always grave and earnest. Presently the Indian rose to his feet, and strode off into the brush, while the negro turned to Jack, and said, with a broad grin, "I expect you was pretty scairt, sonny, when you see me standing by your gun just now."
"Yes," said Jack, "I was. I never was so badly scared in my life, and I didn't know what to do. I tell you," he added, turning to Hugh, "I wished I'd stayed in camp, as you told me to."
"Yes," said Hugh, gravely, "that's what you ought to have done. If these fellows had been anything else but Piegans, you'd have been killed, likely, and me, too. These men made the tracks we was looking at this morning; they followed that trail that we was on, until they came to where the people had camped, and then they saw that they'd been gone so long, it wa'n't no use to follow 'em, and they left the trail and struck up toward the mountains, to rest. They've been out quite a long time. Where was the camp," he continued, turning to Hezekiah, "when you left it?"
"They was camped on the Mussel-shell," answered the negro, "but they talked of moving up north onto the Marias before long. I expect you'll find 'em there; or, maybe further north, either near the Sweet-grass Hills, or maybe over close to the mountains; maybe over by Chief Mountain, or on some stream near it."
A moment later, Bear Chief returned accompanied by another Indian, and after speaking a few words to Hugh, sat down, and taking his fire bag from his belt, drew out a large, curiously carved, black stone pipe and its stem, fitted them together, and drawing his knife, commenced to cut some tobacco. One by one, other Indians came marching into camp, until, including Hezekiah, there were seven there. They were a stalwart group of men, all young, yet full grown, except two, who were boys, one of them about Jack's age, and the other a little older. As they talked, Hezekiah gave Jack a hasty sketch of what they had done since they left the Piegan camp. They had seen no enemies, and made no war. Once, as they were travelling along, they saw, far off, people coming, making a great dust. They hid on top of a high butte, and watched these people, who passed within a half mile of where they were. They were soldiers, and the Indians kept very close until they had passed out of sight, and then started on to put as great a distance as possible between themselves and the troops. Their food gave out at one time, and they were two days without anything to eat; then, one of the young men killed an elk, and they feasted, and dried a little of the meat. The next day a buffalo bull was killed, and they dried more meat; and since then had had plenty to eat. Now they were thinking of turning their steps northward, following close along the foot-hill of the mountains, hoping to find some camp of enemies, and take some horses.
While they were talking, Hugh built a fire, and gave half an antelope to two of the young men to roast, while he baked some bread and made a pot of coffee. Then the Indians were invited to eat, and feasted on the unwonted luxuries. Again, Bear Chief filled the pipe, and as they sat around in a circle, it passed from hand to hand, each one, except Jack, drawing in several whiffs of the smoke; and each one, also, holding the stem in succession toward the sky, the earth, and the four points of the compass, and speaking a few words. Jack at the time did not understand what this meant, but Hugh afterward explained to him that they were offering prayers. After this was over, Bear Chief stood up and tightened his belt about his waist, and all the others did the same; then, after a few words with Hugh, all gravely shook hands with the two whites, and they filed into the brush. Hezekiah remained a moment behind the others, and said, "Well, good-bye, Mr. Johnson, good-bye, sonny; you'll get to camp before we do, but we'll be pretty close behind you. I don't expect we're goin' to make no war this trip; I dreamed we wouldn't. Don't feel hard toward me, sonny, 'cause I scared you to-day. I wouldn't o' done it, only I was afraid ye might run for your gun, and shoot some of us, if I didn't get there first. Good-bye," and he followed the Indians into the willows. A little later, Hugh and Jack caught a glimpse of them, walking in single file up the valley, their brown bodies glistening in the sun, and the feathers in their heads nodding as they walked.
"Well, son," said Hugh, "I don't know which of us was the most scared this afternoon, but if you was scared as bad as I was, I'm mighty sorry for ye."
"Well, Hugh, nobody could have been scared as badly as I was. I expected to feel the arrows going through me every second, for a little while. Why, when I first saw Hezekiah standing there I thought I'd die. If he hadn't spoken right away I don't know what I'd have done. It don't seem as if I could have stood it. It seemed the longest time after I'd seen him before he spoke, and yet it couldn't have been more than half a minute. When I first saw him standing there smiling, I thought he was just laughing because he'd got me, but when he made that sign and spoke English I felt like crying, I was so glad."
"Well," said Hugh, "you've got to be more careful; you hadn't no business to go away from camp to-day, and if you'd got killed, I don't know what I'd have done."
The night after Jack's capture by the Piegans passed quietly and very early the next morning they continued their journey, travelling fast, but very cautiously. At every considerable rise of the prairie which gave a wide view over the country, Hugh halted Jack and the animals, and went alone to the top of the hill, from which he scanned the prairie with care before showing himself. Once or twice signs of people were seen, but in each case the trail was an old one, made in spring when the ground was wet and the grass just starting.
One day after they had made camp, Hugh left Jack to watch the horses, and climbed on foot to the top of a lofty butte nearby. When he returned to camp he told Jack that they must move on as soon as it was dark, and they gathered up the horses and brought them close to camp, and soon after the sun had set, packed and rode away.
"There's a camp of people down the creek, not very far off," Hugh said. "From the top of the hill I saw two sets of hunters carrying their meat to camp, and two or three miles below here I saw an old woman gathering wood. I don't know who the people are, likely enough they're Crows, and friendly; but they may be Sioux or Cheyennes, and I don't want to take no chances; so we'd better pack up and light out. Them Piegans will think they missed a great chance when they didn't stay with us."
"I suppose there's some danger that some of these hunters might walk right into our camp at any time," said Jack.
"Yes," said Hugh, "I'm kind o' surprised they didn't do it. We'll be lucky if we get off without them seeing us. From now on, until we cross the Yellowstone we've got to go pretty careful; that'll be in two or three days though, I hope."
"Why," said Jack, "are we as close to it as that?"
"Yes," said Hugh, "if we could go straight ahead, and travel fast without stopping, we could get there in two days."
They travelled almost all the night, and toward morning Jack grew very sleepy. By this time the pack horses were so well trained that they needed no driving whatever, but kept along close behind the horse that Hugh led; so Jack dozed in his saddle through the latter half of the night. Toward morning it grew quite cool, and he put on his coat. The country had now become rough with high hills, and they were following the valley of a river, on either side of which steep buffs stood outlined against the sky. Suddenly Hugh stopped his horse, all the pack horses came to a stand, and Jack was aroused from his doze by the sudden halting of his horse. He could see the animals just ahead of him, but could not see Hugh. Presently, however, he heard a horse's tread, and in a moment Hugh stopped beside him and said, "We've got to get out of this; there's a camp down the creek; I just heard a dog bark. We'll turn up this side ravine, and travel until it gets light, and then cache in the brush, or in the timber, if there is any."
An hour later, with the horses they were hidden in a great patch of plum brush and pine trees, near the head of the ravine. Not far away was a high conical hill which overlooked the valley that they had left, and Hugh, climbing to the summit of this, walking all the time among the pines, looked up and down the valley. Almost beneath him, so near that it seemed as if he might fire a rifle ball into it, stood the lodges of a camp, all unknowing of the watcher.
Hugh stayed there for a long time, to see what the Indians were doing, and, also, to learn, if possible, what they were likely to do; that is to say, whether they would probably stay where they were, or were getting ready to move.
They had been there a long time. All through the camp the grass was worn from the ground; well-beaten trails led about through the sage brush and a course for playing the stick game had been cleared of brush and stones. All about the camp were drying-scaffolds, hung with strips of meat, some of it dry and brown, some bright red, and some almost white. Hugh wished that he had Jack with him, so that he might point out to him all the features of the camp. He was too uneasy, however, to think much about that. He watched the direction taken by the men as they left the camp, and saw that most of them went off up and down the creek, though some crossed it and rode up a broad valley that came down through the bluffs on the other side. On the tops of some of the lower hills he saw, standing or sitting, the figures of men wrapped in their robes or summer sheets, but all had their faces turned toward the valley, or up or down the stream; none looked back toward the hills. Hugh grumbled a little to himself, as he lay there, and said, "Yes, that's all right, but suppose some old squaw, with her dog and travois, should come up our ravine after a load of wood. Then where'd we be? The dog would sure smell us, and we'd have to catch the old woman, and maybe kill her, or else she'd have the whole camp buzzing about that brush patch, like a nest o' bees."
About the middle of the day he turned to go back, and before he had got half way to the horses, he saw just what he had feared. An old woman, followed by a dog dragging a small travois, was slowly making her way up the ravine.
Hugh travelled along among the pines, watching her to see what she would do, and it was with great satisfaction that he saw her stop more than a mile below the horses, and commence to attack a fallen pine stick, with the great stone maul that she carried. She worked for more than an hour, and at length, having collected a large pile of wood, she bound a part of it on the dog travois, made up another huge bundle which she lifted on her own back, and then started down the ravine to return to the camp.
When Hugh reached the horses Jack was not there, but presently he crept into camp through the brush, looking anxious and worried. His face lighted up when he saw Hugh, and he said, "What was that hammering and chopping I heard down below, Hugh? I listened to it, sitting here, until I couldn't stand it any longer, and then I crept out to the edge of the brush to see what it was."
Hugh told Jack about the woman, and said, "Now, just as soon as it gets dark, we've got to start over to the other creek, and take down that. I want to put fifteen or twenty miles behind us before we stop, but when we do stop we've got to let these horses feed, and give 'em some water. I believe the best thing we can do is to keep on the divide, after we get up there, and not travel down these river valleys. The country seems to be full of Indians. Just as soon, though, as we can get across the Yellowstone we'll be out of the range of these people and not likely to meet anybody, except Piegans, and maybe Crows or Gros Ventres; they'll all be friendly."
The horses had been tied up to trees all day long and had had no chance to eat, though their packs had been taken off so that they were pretty well rested. As it grew dark they were packed again, and Hugh led the way up onto the plateau, along which they rode almost the whole night. Toward morning they came to a little stream, and camped in the underbrush on the edge of a little park, where they let the horses feed until day, and then brought them into the brush and tied them up. After the sun had risen they built a small fire, cooked some food, and then put the fire out.
"Now, son," said Hugh, "you lie down and go to sleep, and I'll go up onto this hill, and stand guard. I'll call you about the middle of the day, and let you watch till nearly night. I feel pretty sleepy, myself." Jack took his robe, and spreading it out of sight in the willows, was soon fast asleep.
The sun was well toward the west before Hugh's hand on his shoulder awoke Jack, who sat up, bewildered for a moment, not knowing where he was.
"Come, son," said Hugh, "it's near the middle of the afternoon; you go up on that hill and watch for awhile, and I'll sleep. Just about sunset you come down and wake me, and we'll eat, and pack up and go on. Keep a good lookout, and don't show yourself, and if anybody should come right close, just slip down through the gulch and come back here to me. These people ain't got no idee that we're around, and I don't want 'em to have." Jack took his gun and started up the hill, and Hugh took his place in the bushes and went to sleep. For some time nothing was to be seen from the hill-top, but an hour before sunset Jack saw three horsemen come in view, riding across the plain, as if they were going from the river bottom on the east, westward toward to camp. They rode slowly, leading two pack horses, apparently loaded, but they were so far off that he could not be sure of anything about them, except that they were people.
A little later he saw something move on the hillside close to him, and for a moment was startled; then, as the object came into view, he saw that it was only a little kit-fox. The first that appeared was followed by three others, and the four moved up over the grass, quartering the ground, and smelling here and there, almost like hunting dogs when they work ahead of their masters, searching for birds. Now and then one would make a sudden pounce in the grass, and then toss up its head and seem to swallow something. They worked around the hill, most of the time in sight, but sometimes hidden by elevations of the ground, until they had passed from Jack's left hand almost to his right; then they stopped on a little level bench of the hill, in plain view, and while the largest of the four lay down, the other three had a game of romps, just such as three puppies might have. One sprang upon another, caught it by the back of its neck, and seemed to shake it, while the one so attacked turned on its enemy, caught the skin of its shoulder in its teeth, and the two rolled over and over, seeming to fight fiercely. After a moment or two of this, the third puppy plunged at the squirming pair, which at once separated and dashed away, running as hard as they could, while the third pursued. They kept this up for some little time and then, seeming to weary of the play, all three returned to the larger one, and all lay down close together, so that they formed just a mass of fur, almost the exact colour of the prairie grass.
Jack waited and watched, but nothing happened. High in the air he heard the squeaking cry of the prairie night-hawk, and every now and then the rush of its wings, as it stooped toward the earth. One of the birds which he was watching, darted to the ground, close to where the little foxes lay, to their evident astonishment and alarm, for all four sprang to their feet and looked about as though greatly startled. From the hillside below him the song of the meadow lark rang out sweet and clear, and in the brush where the horses were tied and Hugh was sleeping, there were faint songs and twitterings of birds that were resting there, or seeking their evening meal. No more people were seen, and when the sun had reached the tops of the high bluffs to the west, Jack slipped cautiously down the ravine, and went through the brush to where Hugh lay. As he approached the spot, Hugh threw off the robe and stood up, and with a glance at Jack and at the sky, shook himself, and said, "Well, did ye see anything?"
"Yes," said Jack, "about an hour ago I saw three people leading two pack horses right over toward where the camp is; but that is all I saw."
"Well, I guess we'd better pack up and make tracks, without lighting any fire. The chances are no one would see it if we did cook, but we won't take no risks."
They went into the brush, untied the horses, watered them, and put on the packs, tying up each horse after his load was secured. When this was done, Hugh said, "Now I'm going up to the top of the hill to take another look, and if there ain't nothing in sight, we'll move."
Hugh was not gone long, and when he returned he said, "It's all right, I guess, but before we get out of this brush we'll stop and take a look from the other side." They mounted and passed slowly along, crossing the brook and climbing the opposite hill. Before riding out of the willows, however, Hugh dismounted, walked to the edge, and looked over the plain before him. After a moment he turned and signed to Jack to dismount and to come towards him. Jack did so very carefully, and Hugh pointed out into the open, where Jack saw a large dog trotting along. "That dog belongs to the camp," said Hugh, "and likely there are people right around here. We'll have to wait here until it gets plumb dark. There may be two or three lodges camped here on this creek, though I can't hardly believe it. Anyhow, we won't take no chances; we'll stop here till dark. You go back and stay with the horses, and leave me here to watch."
Jack returned to the horses, and taking the bridles of the two saddle horses, he stood there with them at the heads of the pack horses, waiting and listening. It grew darker and darker, and presently a voice at his elbow said, "Well, that dog's gone off, and I haven't seen or heard anything; we might as well go too;" and with that they mounted and rode out over the plain.
They travelled all night, stopping for two or three hours about midnight to let the horses feed, and when day broke next morning, they could see far before them the low line of green timber which marked the course of the Yellowstone River. A little later Hugh rode down into the valley of a small stream, and they made camp and turned all the horses loose on the bottom.
"We've got to stay here and watch them horses feed until they get their bellies full," said Hugh, "and then we'll take and tie 'em up. I'm going to start to-night, and not stop until we've crossed the river. After we get on the other side I'll feel that we're safe."
All through the day they watched the horses, and rested and slept, and at night they set out again on their journey. The next morning found them riding down into the wide bottom of the Yellowstone, and over toward the water. It looked deep, swift and turbulent to Jack, but Hugh, turning to the right, rode down the stream for a mile and a half, and then descending through a little ravine, rode out into the water. Here Jack could see that there was a long bar running diagonally across the river, over which the water rippled, showing that it was not deep. Just before he entered the stream, Hugh called back, "Keep the horses well up, son, and don't let them turn off up or down stream. The water's deep on either side of this bar, but if they follow me they'll go through all right."
Jack watched Hugh as he rode along, and saw that the water scarcely came up to his horse's knees until he had nearly reached the opposite bank, when it suddenly grew deeper and came half way up the horse's side, so that Hugh had to take his feet out of the stirrups and hold them up, to keep from getting wet. The water here appeared to run with great violence, and Hugh turned his horse's head a little up stream so that the full force of the current would not strike the animal broad side on. Jack had kept the pack horses close behind Hugh, and they followed him well, and at last all hands crawled out on the bank.
"Now," said Hugh, as he drew up his horse, "I feel easier in my mind. We've got past the only place I was anyways nervous about, and from now on we'll have straight, easy going, if I ain't mistaken."