It was two or three days after the conclusion of the ceremonies of the Medicine Lodge, when Jack, walking through the camp one morning, found himself face to face with Hezekiah. The negro had discarded the feather which he wore in his head when Jack had seen him last, and he was now clad in leggings, a much worn cotton shirt and moccasins. He knew Jack at once and came up to him, shaking his hand most cordially.
"Well," said he, "Master Jack, you got here all right, didn't you? Hope you didn't have no trouble on your way up. Didn't get captured by nobody else, did you?"
"No," said Jack, laughing, "we got pretty well scared after you left us, and came near running onto two or three Indian camps, but we got around them without being discovered and had no trouble at all. Hugh was saying," he went on, "that you Piegans would be mighty sorry you hadn't stayed with us, when we were travelling around among those camps, south of the Yellowstone. We didn't want anything of the people, but Hugh said that the war party would have given anything to have had such a chance to take horses."
"Bad luck," said Hezekiah, "we didn't see no enemies, and didn't make no war and just came trailing in yesterday afternoon not having done nothing at all. I hear, though, that you done yourself mighty proud, Master Jack. The Indians were telling me last night that you killed an enemy that was trying to take horses from Fox Eye's camp, over to Grassy Lakes, and that after you killed him you counted coup on him. That was fine thing for you to have done, and all your friends are proud of you.
"I don't know whether you know it, Master Jack, but you've got lots of friends in this camp; people here think a whole lot of you. First they like you because you kinder belong to the old man, and then, because you saved Little Plume's daughter from getting drownded, and now, because you have shown that you're brave, even if you are so young and haven't been long on the prairie."
"Well, Hezekiah, I am mighty glad to hear you say that. I expect anybody is glad if people like him, I know I am. Everybody in the camp is always kind and pleasant and smiling, they don't seem like the Indians I have always read about. Those were always solemn and silent and gruff, and didn't do anything but grunt; but those people here are just as pleasant as they can be and always laughing and joking, and doing kind things; I tell you they are as nice people as I ever want to be with."
"Oh yes, they're good people, Master Jack," said Hezekiah, "I like 'em right well. Master Jack," he went on, "would you mind coming over to my lodge? I'd like to have you see my wife and my babies. I've got a nice family, sir! My wife, she is old Lone Person's girl; he is a chief of one of the bands, you know; quite a great man."
"Why, sure, I'll go, Hezekiah," said Jack; and the two walked over to a large lodge not far off.
Jack found Hezekiah's wife a neat pleasant-faced young woman, and the lodge was kept in very good order. Three odd little children, perfect negroes in appearance, were playing about close at hand, and a tiny baby with great rolling eyes and tightly curling hair, was strapped to a board and swinging to one of the lodge poles.
After some conversation, Hezekiah hinted somewhat diffidently, that he would be glad if Jack would eat with them, and Jack was very ready to accept the invitation, which seemed to please both Hezekiah and his wife. Jack passed a good part of the afternoon in the lodge, and when at last he left it, made up his mind that he would try to see something of Hezekiah in the future.
One afternoon, not very long after the Medicine Lodge was over, Jack was sitting in front of the lodge with Hugh, when he heard the distant voice of the camp crier shouting out the news, as he rode about the circle of the lodges. He listened for a while, and as the man drew nearer and the sounds which he uttered grew more distinct, Jack turned to Hugh and asked him what the old man was saying.
"Hold on a minute," said Hugh, "wait till he gets closer, I can't just hear all he says, but it is something about moving the camp, and buffalo. I guess likely they are going to start." Presently, he added, "Yes, this is what he says: 'Listen, listen, everybody pay attention. To-morrow the camp will move. All the lodges must be taken down early. Everybody must pack up soon after sunrise. The camp will move toward the Sweet Grass Hills. You men, get your horses close. You women, pack up your things to-night, the chiefs have ordered to start early. Listen, listen, everybody pay attention.'"
"Well," said Jack, "I am glad they are going. We have been here a long time now, and I'll be glad to get out on the prairie again, and glad to see the Indians chase buffalo. They'll do that, won't they, Hugh, when they get into the buffalo country?"
"Lord, yes," said Hugh, "that's the only way they kill buffalo, except now and then when they find one or two old bulls off by themselves, when they sometimes creep up to one, and kill him that way; but whenever they want to make a big killing, to get meat and lodge skins for everybody, then they chase 'em."
"Well, Hugh," said Jack, "how shall we do when the camp moves? Just pack our animals and travel along with them?"
"Yes," said Hugh, "I guess we may as well pack our animals, and then we'll let the old man's women drive them. They'd be glad to pack them too, but I'm afraid if they did, that first thing we knew, some of them horses would get a sore back, and I don't want that to happen. You see, likely as not, we've got to travel down South with these horses again, and I mean to keep them in good order, so that they'll serve us while going, just as they did when we came up here."
"Why," said Jack, "it doesn't seem to me as if we ought to let the women pack the horses, that's man's work. Ain't it, Hugh?"
"No," said Hugh, "not among Indians. Man's work, in an Indian camp, is to kill meat for food, and skins for clothing, and to go to war, so's to get rich and to make people think well of himself and his family, and to defend the camp. The woman's work is to look out for the lodge, to take care of the children, to make the clothing and to see to the moving of the camp. It ain't so very different, you see, from what it is among white folks. Take it among Indians, a man's business is hunting, and going to war. White men hunt for fun, but Indians don't. Indians hunt, so that they can live, just the same as any man in the States goes to his store in the morning, and sells things all day so as to earn money to support his family."
"Why no," said Jack, "it ain't so very different from what the white man and the white woman do. Is it?"
"Not very," said Hugh. "Now, I'll tell you, son," he went on, "let's pack up most all our truck to-night, and get the packs ready to put on the horses in the morning. Our horses will be driven in with the old man's, and we can catch them and pack them, and leave them here for the women to drive on with theirs, and then we can either go ahead with the soldiers, or if you like, you can stop in the camp, and see them take down everything and begin to move."
"I think I'd rather stay here and see them move, Hugh," said Jack. "But what do you mean by the soldiers?"
"Why, the soldiers," said Hugh, "are sort of constables like. I thought I'd told you about them. They're young men that are going to war all the time, and they're the ones that see that the orders given by the chiefs are obeyed. It is like this; if there was any man to-morrow morning, who said he was not going to move, and whose lodge was not taken down, the soldiers would go to him and if he were obstinate, just as like as not they'd give him a good licking with their quirts. If he still refused to go with the camp, they might tear down his lodge, break the lodge poles and even cut the lodge-skins to pieces. It is a pretty serious matter you see, to disobey the chief's orders, and really, 'tisn't ever done."
After supper that night, Joe came to the lodge, and after a little talk said to Jack, "Isn't this great, that we are going to move and going to chase buffalo?"
"You bet it is great," said Jack. "You know I've never seen a buffalo chase, and I've always thought it must be a fine thing to see."
"I tell you," said Joe; "after they kill plenty of buffalo, everybody is glad. All through the camp they put up the drying scaffolds, and as the meat is brought in, they cut it into thin slices and hang it over the poles, and for a little while it looks as if red cloth was stretched all through the camp. Of course, after two or three hours, it gets dry and brown, but when it is first put up, it is real pretty I tell you."
"Well," said Jack, "I hope I'll see that. You can't think, Joe, how much I want to find out everything about the Indians. Everything that they do, and say, and think, is so different from anything I've ever seen before, that it just makes me pretty near crazy when I think what a chance I've got here, and how little I've learned yet."
"Oh well," said Joe, "you'll know a heap before you go away, but I don't want you to know everything, because, then maybe you'd never come back. Suppose you go away this Fall, not knowing everything, maybe you'll come back next Spring to learn the rest."
"Well," said Jack, "I can't think of any better fun than to do just that." After a minute he went on, "You've killed buffalo, Joe?"
"Yes," said Joe, "a few, not many. I haven't got a good running horse, and so I never killed many chasing them. It takes a pretty good horse to catch a cow. You've got two."
"Well," said Jack, "I'll tell you what I'll do, the first chase we have, I'll let you ride my new horse, and I'll ride Pawnee; then maybe we'll both have good luck."
"That'll be good," said Joe. "Suppose I ride that new horse, I'm pretty sure to have good luck."
"Look here, son," broke in Hugh, who had been sitting near them, "you'll want to have a lesson in buffalo running before you try it the first time. There's some things that a greenhorn has got to be told. Now, when you start to chase buffalo, you must ride right up close to the animal you are trying to kill. You'll never kill any buffalo if you are afraid of them. Ride right up within two or three yards of a cow, and when you are about even with her hips, shoot at her, and try to hit her in the heart. You must remember what I've told you so many times, that you have got to shoot low down to kill any animal, but at a buffalo, with its big hump, you've got to shoot lower down than most anything else. That's the great trouble most men have when they hunt buffalo the first time, they shoot too high, and the ball goes through the meat and don't hurt the buffalo a bit. If you'll remember those two things, to get up close, and to shoot low down, you won't have any trouble about killing your buffalo."
The next morning when Jack looked out of the lodge, a great change had come over the camp. Many places, where lodges had stood the night before, were now vacant. In other places only the conical frame work of poles was seen, and in others the women were just pulling away the lodge skins, or in some cases were standing on a travois which leaned against the lodge, and were unpinning its front. The camp was full of horses, many of them tied to pins or bundles of baggage, or to travois, but many others were roaming loose through the circle. Jack had never before seen all the horses of the camp gathered together, and was astonished at their numbers. All about the circle were piles of robes, bundles, saddles, cooking utensils, and other property which the women were gathering together, tying up, packing on the horses, or loading on the travois.
The scene was one of great activity, and the work that was being done was not conducted in silence. There were colts that had lost their mothers and were screaming shrilly, and mares were neighing for their missing colts. The camp dogs were in a state of high excitement, and were barking or howling, or got in people's way, and when kicked out of it, yelped dolefully. The little boys, who swarmed through the circle, were shouting, whooping, running races and wrestling. The women, worried by the labour of packing and of looking after their children and their horses, called to each other with high pitched voices, and many of the babies missing their mother's attention, added their cries to the babel which prevailed.
Jack watched the scene for a little while, and then going back into the lodge, said, "Well, Hugh, I never expected to hear so much noise in this camp as there is this morning. Will they ever quiet down again? This isn't very much like the camp we have been in for the last three weeks."
"No," said Hugh, "the first day that camp is broken after a long stop in any one place, they make quite a racket. You'll see, though, that when they move to-morrow, things will go a good deal more smoothly. Now, as soon as we've finished eating," he went on, "let's catch up our horses and pack them, and tie them up here with old John's. Then I'm going on ahead with the old men, and if you want to, you can stop here as long as you like; only, if I were you, I wouldn't wander away from the column very much. You see, now we are going out on to the prairie, where there is more danger of meeting enemies, and I wouldn't go off alone at all. Get Joe to go with you, or go with some little party of two or three men, or ask me and I'll ride with you wherever you want me to."
"All right," said Jack, "I'll remember. I've seen enemies enough for a little while, and I don't want to run onto any more of 'em."
It did not take them long to catch and pack their horses. Jack tied up his new riding-horse with the pack-animals, and John Monroe's wife said that she would see that they were all driven on. Then Hugh started off to join the head of the column which had already begun to cross the river, while Jack mounted Pawnee, and rode about through the camp. It was very amusing to him to watch the various operations that were going on. Women were constantly completing the work of packing and starting off with their families, to follow those who had gone on before, so that there was a continuous stream of people heading toward the river, entering it, crossing and clambering out on the other side. The trail climbed a steep bluff there, and the long line of people that followed it, made Jack think of a brightly coloured serpent slowly making its way up the hillside.
At last he tired of the scenes of the camp, and riding to the river, joined the procession that was crossing it. Once on the other side, he turned Pawnee out of the trail, and rode on rapidly toward the head of the column where he joined Hugh. Twenty-five or thirty old and middle-aged men were in the lead, and behind them rode more than a hundred young men on fine horses, handsomely dressed, and well armed. A few of them carried rifles; many others double-barrel shot-guns, but a great many were provided only with bows and arrows which they now carried in cases on their backs.
"Oh! Hugh," said Jack, as he rode up, "are these young men here the soldiers?"
"Yes," said Hugh, "they're the soldiers. They all belong to one of the secret societies, the Mŭt'siks, that means brave. As I was saying to you last night, if the chiefs want anything done they tell these young fellows to have it done. There's quite a long story about these different secret societies, and some night when we have plenty of time, we'll have to get some of the old men to tell us these stories. You see, usually, they don't talk much about these things to white folks, but I've heard 'most all the stories, and likely they wouldn't mind telling them to you. You see, one reason an Indian don't like to talk about sacred things to white men, is, that he's afraid the white man will laugh at him, but of course they know you wouldn't do that any more than I would."
"I should think not," said Jack, "I'd be so pleased to hear anything that they were willing to tell me, that I don't think I'd laugh at it even if it were real funny."
"No," said Hugh, "of course you oughtn't to. Of course, some of these things that the Indians believe sound ridiculous to us white folks, but they're mighty real to them, and they believe in them just as we believe in a whole lot of things that likely would sound mighty ridiculous to them. Some of them bible stories for example. You couldn't get an Indian to believe them, and yet white folks think it's all so."
"You mean the miracles?" said Jack.
"Yes, I expect that's it."
After a little pause Jack asked Hugh, "What are those men doing that I see crossing the hills ahead of us, Hugh?"
"Why," said Hugh, "those are young men and boys that are out hunting through the brush to kill anything that's there before the camp gets along, and scares everything. We're likely to stop before we've gone much further, and to wait for the column to close up. Then those young fellows will get quite a-ways ahead. Of course, they'll kill any game that they might come across, and then too, they will scout the country for any enemies that might be about."
Hugh had hardly stopped speaking, when the old men drew in their horses, and dismounting, sat down in a circle on the ground, and the soldiers too got off their horses and the people behind them stopped. Pipes were filled and were passed from hand to hand. "What are they waiting for, Hugh?" said Jack.
"Why, you see, son," said the old man, "there's always a lot of people that are late leaving the camp, and they have stopped here to let such people catch up, so that the column won't be scattered out too far. Sometimes it happens if they straggle too much, that a little war party may dash down onto the column, and kill two or three women and then ride off again before anybody can get near enough to punish them."
After half an hour's rest, the march was taken up again and before long, the last hill was climbed, and the camp moved forward along an open ridge that led toward the prairie. From time to time the trail passed through scattering patches of aspen or through a point of pine timber running down from the mountains, but by the middle of the afternoon, they had left the mountains well behind them, and a little later, they camped in the open valley of a branch of the Milk River. It surprised Jack to see how speedily the lodges were erected and how short a time it took this unorganized mob of people to settle down into the ordinary routine of camp life.
For several days the village moved eastward, crossing the Milk River, and at last, one night, they camped near the base of the Sweet Grass Hills. Ever since leaving the mountains, buffalo had been in sight. At first only an occasional individual, then small groups of three or four bulls, later little herds. But here, at the base of the Sweet Grass Hills, they were abundant, and from an elevation the prairie was seen to be dotted with them, almost as far as the eye could reach. On the march a few buffalo had been killed by men who had stolen up to them quietly; but no one had chased buffalo, for the chiefs had given strict orders against it.
Just before sundown one evening, as Jack and Hugh sat in front of the lodge, the now familiar voice of the old crier was heard shouting the news to the camp. At first the words uttered at a great distance had no meaning, but as the old man drew nearer, Hugh nodded his head as he listened, and Jack asked, "What is he saying, Hugh?"
"He is calling out the orders of the chiefs," said Hugh, "and this is what he says: 'Listen, listen, everybody pay attention. To-morrow we will chase buffalo. All must get in their horses. Men whet your arrow-points, women sharpen your knives. To-morrow morning early, everybody will start out. So the chiefs have ordered.' That's just about what he says and he rides about the camp repeating this over and over again. You see, it is necessary that everybody should know just what is going to be done, so that all may get ready, and every person in the camp may have an equal chance to get food to-morrow."
"Oh!" said Jack, "there go the boys and men now to gather in the horses." For he had seen young men and boys on foot, starting for the hills, which in all directions from the camp, were dotted with the feeding Indian ponies.
"Yes," said Hugh, "and as you are the youngest person in this lodge, you might as well get on your horse and go out and bring in ours. What horse are you going to ride to-morrow, Pawnee or your new runner?"
"Why, I think I'll ride Pawnee," said Jack, "as this is going to be my first chase. I know him and he knows me, and until I get a little bit used to running buffalo, I thought I'd use him."
"Well," said Hugh, "I expect that's what you'd better do. But if I was you, I'd bring in the new horse too and tie him up close to the lodge. You don't want to leave a fast horse like that out on the prairie, nights, for most any time, you know, a little war party might come along, and take a lot of the horses that are in the hills, and it would be a pity to lose a running horse."
"I'll remember that, Hugh," said Jack, "but I thought anyhow, I'd bring the new horse in to-night, and lend him to Joe to-morrow. You see, he hasn't got any good horse, and he was telling me that he had never yet killed many buffalo in a chase, because he had to ride slow old horses that couldn't catch buffalo."
"Good idea," said Hugh, "it'll give him a lot of pleasure, and maybe get him some credit, and it won't do you no harm."
It was dark before the horses had been brought in, and picketed close to the lodge, and yet the hum of unusual bustle pervaded the camp. As they sat about the fire in the lodge, just before going to bed, Hugh said to Jack, "You see, son, how the very noises in the camp show that something unusual is happening. You notice to-night there is no singing and no drumming, but the people are talking more than usual and more horses are moving around through the camp, and people too. Everybody is getting ready. Now, if you could go around and look into the lodges, you'd see that in a good many of them men are praying. Some of them have got out their sacred things and they're burning sweet grass and sweet pine and purifying themselves, and praying to the Sun to give them good luck to-morrow; to let their horses run fast, so that they can catch the fattest of the cows; not to let them stumble or step into holes, so that there will be no falling; and to make their arrows go straight, so that they shall kill plenty of food. You see, it is kind o' hard for us white folks to understand what a buffalo chase means to the Indians. These buffalo are just about all they've got to live on, and if the buffalo should be taken away, all the people would starve to death. The most important thing for every man, woman and child in the camp, is to have plenty of food. So when these people start in to chase buffalo, they pray hard for good luck.
"I mind when I was a kid, back in the States," he went on, "that we used to have prayers, sort o' like this; only there, we called it Thanksgiving. The preacher used to thank the Lord for all the good that had come during the past year, and to pray for all the good the Lord would let us have next year. What they talked about there was, big crops, lots of corn and pumpkins and a good mast year, so that the hogs would be fat, and plenty of rain to make the grass grow, so that the critters would have lots of feed. Lots of times my old mother has took me to such preachings, and I used to sit there on the bench next to her, with my little legs not half reaching to the ground, and listen to what the preacher said."
"Oh yes, Hugh, of course I have been to church on Thanksgiving Day lots of times, but I think in New York the minister preaches about what has gone before more than about what is to come next year."
It was still dark next morning when the crackling of the fire roused Jack from his slumbers, and in a few moments after he had thrown off the robe which was his covering, he was outside the lodge looking up into the clear black sky, which sparkled with thousands of brilliant stars. The camp was awake, and through the covering of each lodge, Jack could see the glimmer of fires, and from every smoke-hole, sparks flew upward. While the men were eating breakfast, the smiling face of Joe showed itself in the doorway, and he entered and sat down by Jack.
"Hello, Joe," said his friend, "did you bring your saddle? I've got the new horse tied out here and he's all ready for you to ride to-day in the chase."
"Oh!" said Joe, "I don't need no saddle, I'm going to ride bareback same as all the other Indians do. It is only white men that use saddles, and now you are a Piegan, you'll have to learn to hunt buffalo as the Piegans do."
"All right," said Jack, "that'll suit me too well, but I guess until I've been through one or two chases, I'll stick to the old-fashioned saddle. It seems to me a man has got to have a whole lot of practice before he can ride a day bareback. I used to try it sometimes down on the ranch, and I'll tell you it didn't take me long to get tired."
"Yes," said Joe, "you've sure got to practice." And Hugh added, "And the sooner you start in to do it the better. You ought to learn to ride bareback, and you ought to learn to use the bow and arrows. You can use that Assinaboine's bow and arrows that you captured. That's a right good bow, but you'll need some more arrows. We'll try to get some after we get back."
"Oh, Hugh!" said Jack, "are you going with us?"
"I reckon I'll have to," said Hugh. "You see, we've got to kill some meat for the old woman here. We're stopping in the lodge and eating her food right along, and we've got to hunt and kill our share. I expect likely you'll kill a plenty to-day, but anyhow, I thought I'd go along too."
"That's fine," said Jack, "I wish we could ride together, but I guess Pawnee will run away from old Baldy."
"I guess likely he will," said Hugh with a twinkle of fun in his eye, "but maybe when you see the horse I'm going to ride to-day, you'll think Pawnee has his work cut out for him."
"Why," said Jack, "what horse are you going to ride?"
"Never you mind," said Hugh; "you'll see after a while."
When they went out of the lodge, the dim light in the eastern sky showed that the day was about to break. At one end of the camp there was a continuous trampling of hoofs, which Hugh said was caused by the hunters beginning to leave the camp. Jack hurried to Pawnee and put the saddle on him, and Joe brought up the new horse, naked except for a thong knotted about his lower jaw, and stood by its right side ready to mount. When Pawnee was saddled, Jack looked around for Hugh, but he was nowhere to be seen.
"Come on," said Joe, "let's go over to where the hunters are gathering; Hugh told me that we should go on and that he would join us there."
The boys mounted and galloped to the end of the camp, joined a throng of men and boys, who, passing across the valley, climbed the bluffs, and on the upper prairie stopped with the crowd that was waiting there. Most of the men were sitting on the ground holding the ropes of their horses which fed close to them. Out toward the prairie sat a line of twenty men, and Jack noticed that no one passed these men. All the hunters stayed between them and the stream.
"Why don't they start, Joe?" he said.
"They can't," said Joe, "until the soldiers tell 'em to go. You see those men sitting there on the outside of the crowd, they are the soldiers, and everybody has to do just what they say. If a man gets in front of them they drive him back right off, and if he don't go when he is told, three or four of them will take their quirts and give him a mighty good licking."
"What's the sense of that," said Jack. "If I want to go ahead, why can't I?"
"Well," said Joe, "you see if everybody could start off when he wanted to, and began to chase buffalo, the first few men would scare them, and they'd begin to run, and the men that came after might not get any chance to kill. You see some people are riding fast horses, and some people slow ones, and the soldiers try to keep everybody back until the time comes for the charge, so that every man will have nearly the same chance."
"Well," said Jack, "that does seem fair."
"Yes," said Joe, "I expect it is the way to get the most meat, and of course, that's what we are trying to do; to kill all the food possible. A good deal of it will be eaten fresh, and all the rest will be dried and eaten when the buffalo are scarce."
As they were talking thus, a man came swiftly trotting up to them, riding a beautiful white horse with black spots, and as he drew near them, Jack saw that it was Hugh.
"What do you think of this horse, son?" said Hugh.
"Why, he's a beauty," said Jack. "What an awful queer colour, but what a splendid horse he looks like."
"Yes," said Hugh, "old Last Bull, when he heard that I was going to run buffalo to-day, offered me this horse to ride. They say he's fast, and one of the best buffalo horses in the tribe."
"Well," said Jack, "if horses count for anything, seems to me that we three ought to kill a lot of buffalo to-day."
"Yes," said Hugh, "I expect we ought to, but come, let's get on up toward the front, I see the soldiers are beginning to get on their horses."
Almost as he spoke, the young men began to mount and as they did so, all the other hunters sprang on their horses and crowded up close behind the line of the soldiers. By this time it was plain daylight, though the sun had not yet risen. Jack looked up and down the line of the hunters, with the greatest interest. To his surprise, he saw that almost all of them were naked, and wore nothing but their moccasins and their bow cases and quivers slung on their backs. Here and there were men who rode on curious saddles, which looked like soft pillows of buckskin, astride of which the man sat, a little ridge rising in front of and behind him. Many of the men were not mounted, but ran along beside their horses with an arm stretched across the withers or back of the animal. Here and there would be seen two men mounted on a single horse, and leading two naked horses, which would thus be fresh when the time came to make the charge on the buffalo. To Jack's great surprise, very few of the men carried guns, and bow and arrow seemed to be almost the universal weapon.
The soldiers had started on a brisk trot with an even front, and the crowd of hunters pressed close behind them. Running his eye up and down over the company, Jack tried to estimate how many men were there, but he could form no idea. He called out the question to Hugh, who was riding close beside him, but Hugh shook his head as if he didn't know. Little by little the pace increased, and soon the horses were going at a brisk gallop. Before long, as they approached the top of a hill, one of the soldiers who rode in the middle of the line, raised his hand, and at once the whole company halted. Two of the soldiers then dismounted and crept up to the top of the ridge, and after looking over, returned, mounted again, and calling out some words, all set forward at a smart gallop. As they paused over the crest, Jack saw before them, a wide level plain on which were feeding a great herd of buffalo. Again he tried to estimate how many there were, but he couldn't tell whether there were a thousand or five thousand.
The mounted men swept down the hill at a good run, yet each man was obliged to hold in his horse in order to keep it back of the line of the soldiers. At first the buffalo did not appear to notice the hunters, but as they drew nearer and nearer, some of the great beasts began to raise their heads and look, and then to turn about and run toward the herd; and in a moment all the animals had taken the alarm, and, throwing down their heads and raising their tails, were racing off over the prairie. Just before they started, the chief soldier gave a shrill yell, and at this signal, each man pressed forward as rapidly as he could. There was no longer order or discipline, but every rider did his utmost to get among the buffalo.
At the signal Jack had loosened Pawnee's reins, and pressed his heels against the horse's side, and a splendid race began. There were only half a dozen men in front of Jack, and before they had gone very far, he could see that he was over-hauling most of these, but he could also see that Hugh on his right and Joe on his left were holding their own with him. These three horses seemed to be nearly the swiftest of all. Little by little they drew up on the heels of the herd and in a few moments were riding in a cloud of dust and flying gravel thrown up by the feet of the buffalo. Through this dust Jack could now see the huge forms not more than twenty or thirty yards ahead of him. He threw a cartridge into his gun to be ready to shoot, and presently, when he was within five or six yards of the nearest bull, fired, and to his great delight the beast fell. As he loaded his gun again, he heard a shout from Hugh, but couldn't understand what he said. He shot again, and another buffalo fell and then from out of the dust by which he was surrounded, Hugh rode up close to him and called out, "Don't bother with these bulls, push on ahead and kill cows."
This advice rather dampened Jack's spirit, for he remembered now, how much talk he had heard about killing cows, and here he had been wasting cartridges on the bulls, which as he had been told, always brought up the rear of the herd. He threw his gun into the hollow of his arm and spurred Pawnee, and before long the bulls had been left behind, and he was riding across a part of the plain where there were scarcely any buffalo, but before him he could see a dark mass rising and falling, which he was sure must be the cows. Hugh had drawn away from him and a little ahead, and was now close on the heels of the herd. Pawnee, too, was rapidly drawing up to them, but before he had got among them, Jack heard Hugh shoot twice. A moment later, Jack was galloping along surrounded by buffalo, which drew away from him on either side and ahead, but still were so close to him, that it made him feel a little bit nervous. Over the billowing brown backs of the buffalo, he could see, dimly, other riders who went in silence, but often leaned down from the backs of their steeds and pulled the bow to the arrow's head. Jack shot again and again, but no buffalo fell. After two more ineffective shots, he began to wonder what was the matter; then suddenly it flashed across him that he was excited and was shooting without using care and taking aim. He remembered what Hugh had said about the importance of shooting low, and he realised that the excitement of the chase and the crowd of cows all about had made him forget the care that he should have exercised. His next shot was a careful one at a great cow running along just before him, and swinging her huge head from side to side; at the shot she went down, and so did the next one he shot at and the next. Then Jack noticed that most of the buffalo had disappeared. There were still half a dozen running near him, but these were turning off in one direction and another. He noticed, too, that Pawnee was running more slowly than he had been, and he made up his mind that he would stop. He had done well enough and he did not want to overtax his horse.
"Pulled the bow to the arrow's head."—Page 234
As he drew rein and Pawnee slackened his pace, at first to a gallop and then to a trot and a walk, he had an opportunity to look about him. In many directions, in front and on both sides, he could see scattering bunches of buffalo climbing the hills; some of them were still pursued by Indians, and looking back over the plain he could see many brown dots which he supposed were carcasses lying there, and many Indians riding hither and thither in confusion. A few buffalo were to be seen standing about, and near each were one or two riders.
At a little distance to his right he recognised Hugh, who was trotting toward him. When he came up, Hugh said to him, "Well, son, you done pretty well after all. You kind of lost your nerve one while though, didn't you?"
"Why yes, Hugh," said Jack, "I did. I couldn't hit anything. But where were you? I didn't see you."
"Oh well," said Hugh, "I wasn't so far off but I could see what was going on. I saw, though, that you caught yourself after a while and killed two or three cows. I expect likely, them you wounded has all been killed before now, but let's ride back and see if we can pick out the buffalo we killed."
They started back and Jack pointed out what he thought were the three cows that he killed, and Hugh examined the wounds and said that Jack was right. Crossing a little gully through which flowed a tiny stream, which in the excitement of the run, Jack had wholly failed to notice, Hugh pointed to a low clump of bushes to their right, and said, "Ride over and kill that cow, son." Jack then saw, standing among the bushes, a buffalo cow evidently wounded, and riding over near to her, was about to dismount, when Hugh said, "Hold on, shoot from the saddle, don't never get on the ground near a wounded cow; if she were to make a charge, she might scare your horse and if he ran off you wouldn't have a good time dodging the cow." Jack shot from the saddle and the cow fell, and when they went up to her, they found that her previous wound was made by a rifle ball, so that she was undoubtedly one of those that Jack had shot at.
As they passed on over the plain where the buffalo lay, they saw many men at work butchering, and before they had come to the last of the dead buffalo, a long line of women with their travois, their children and their dogs had reached the killing ground, and begun the work of carrying the meat and hides to camp.
The days passed pleasantly and quickly. Everybody in the camp was busy, every one was happy. On the drying scaffolds among the lodges, hung the wide sheets of bright red meat and of white back fat, which slowly turned brown in the dry wind and under the burning sun. And as this dried meat was removed and packed away, other fresh meat took its place, to be in turn removed. All day long women were busy over hides stretched out upon the ground, removing the flesh and fat and hair, and preparing them for lodge-skins. Then presently, new lodges, fresh and white under the sunlight, began to take the place of those that age and use had turned gray and brown. The dogs, which a few weeks before had been gaunt, lean and hungry looking, were now fat and sleek. They no longer spent their time on the prairie hunting little birds and ground squirrels, but gorged with fresh buffalo meat, lay about in the sun and slept, except when disturbed by malicious children who enjoyed creeping up to an unsuspecting or sleeping animal, and beating it with a great stick.
From time to time the camp moved a little way. Buffalo were plenty everywhere. Many were killed and their flesh and skins brought into the camp. One night after a chase, as Jack and Joe were walking about through the camp, a man and a little boy rode up to a lodge close to them. The man's horse was loaded with meat, but on that ridden by the boy, there was only a small pack, wrapped up in the hide of a calf. A woman took the ropes of both horses, but the man, instead of going into his lodge, turned about and called out a short speech in a loud voice. Joe pulled Jack's arm and said, "Let's stop and watch; that's Boss Ribs Hunter. His boy has just killed a calf. It is the first time the little fellow ever hunted, and his father is giving away a horse."
"How do you mean, Joe," said Jack.
"Why, you see," said Joe, "the boy has killed a calf and as he's only a little fellow, it's a pretty big thing for him, and his father wants to show how glad he is by making a present, so he called out and told Last Coyote to come and see what his boy had done. Last Coyote is old and poor. He hasn't any relations and I don't believe he's even got a horse. It is a pretty brave thing of Boss Ribs Hunter to do, to give him a horse, because he knows that he never can expect Last Coyote to give him one. Sometimes you know, a man will give away a horse to a rich person, and then before very long, this rich person will feel that he's either got to give a horse back again, or some other good present. But when anybody gives a present to a poor man, it shows that he has a strong heart." While he was saying this, an old man in a very much worn robe had come out of a lodge not far off, and had walked up to Boss Ribs Hunter. He spoke to the man, pointing first to his little boy and then to the horse with the small pack of meat on it, and presently, without a word, the old man clambered onto the horse's back, and rode away through the camp singing as he went.
"Now," said Joe, "you'll see that old man will ride all around through the camp, and will tell everybody what that little boy has done, and that Boss Ribs Hunter gave him this horse because he came to see what the boy had done. In that way, everybody in the camp will come to know that the boy has done well, and that Boss Ribs Hunter has a good heart."
A few days after this, the young men, who had been sent out to look for buffalo, reported that they had moved, and that there were few now on the prairie. The chiefs, therefore, gave orders that the camp should be moved north to Milk River, in the hope that on that stream buffalo would be found. The morning when the camp moved, Hugh and Fox Eye, with Jack and Joe, rode away early ahead of the camp and a little to one side of the line of march, to examine the country.
The sun had but just risen when they started, and the air was cool and delightful. The grass of the prairie, which had long before turned yellow, was covered with a white frost, and the insects, which all through the summer had been enjoying life, were stiff with the cold and unable to move. Near a great butte, on the vertical sides of which could be seen the mud homes of many cliff swallows, Jack was surprised to see a great number of these birds on the ground, and when he came to the place and they had flown away, he could see that they had been feeding on some very small beetles, with which the ground was fairly strewn. From a shelf on the side of this butte, as they were passing along, a great lanner falcon swooped down to the prairie close before them, and rose again with a squeaking ground squirrel in his talons, and when it returned to the shelf, was saluted by the whistling cries of two full-grown young, perched there. The time for singing birds had passed, and already the different broods of the little prairie sparrows and the white-winged black birds, were beginning to get together in small flocks. But the meadow-larks, more cheery than their fellows, still whistled with mellow call from sage brush and boulder on either hand. Now and then a coyote barked at the riders from the top of a near-by hill, and perhaps a jack-rabbit sprang from the grass and galloped off, or a badger waddled slowly to one side and disappeared in his hole. Hugh and Fox Eye rode side by side ahead, and the two boys followed.
As the men rode along, they talked, and this was the report of their conversation, which Hugh afterward gave to Jack. "My friend," said Fox Eye, "I have something to tell you. If you were like other white men I should not say it to you, but you are like our own people and I can tell you what is in my mind. This morning I do not feel well, I am afraid. I think something is going to happen; something bad. This is why I think so. Last night my dream came to me while I was asleep, and spoke to me saying, 'My friend, this day you will be in great danger. It may be that you will lose your body. Look out carefully then, and try to see that nothing bad happens; for I tell you that danger is close to you, although I cannot see what it is, nor how it will come.' After my dream had spoken thus, I awoke and the woman was just beginning to build the fire. Ever since then I have thought of this. It troubles me. This morning I could not eat. I do not know what this means, but I know that something bad is likely to happen."
"Well," said Hugh, "I think that you ought to do just what your dream tells you. You must look out carefully, do not go far away, nor into any place where enemies may be hidden. Do not, to-day, run your horse even if they should chase buffalo; it might be that your horse would step into a hole and throw you and hurt you, or a cow might catch you and kill you. Travel quietly wherever you go, and if the day passes without anything happening, then you may feel that by listening to the words of your dream, you have escaped this danger."
"I take your words," said Fox Eye, "you speak well. But I should like to know what this danger is, that is likely to come. It does not seem as if it could be any of the things that you speak of. The prairie is bare of buffalo; they will not chase them. Our young men have travelled far in these days, and no signs of enemies have been seen."
"Well," said Hugh, "you can't tell. Often danger comes from the places that seem least likely, and of course, if enemies should let us know they were coming, before they made the attack, there would not be much danger from them."
"It is true, it is true;" said Fox Eye.
For some hours they travelled on and at length climbed a high butte, from which, Fox Eye had told them, that the Milk River could be seen. He was right. Far away to the northward was the winding green line where the sluggish stream flowed, showing, now and then, a larger patch of green, which marked the growth of a bunch of willows or other shrubs. From this point, too, they could see that there were here, some buffalo; not many, but near them a few scattering bulls, while toward the river the black dots were thicker on the prairie. Looking back over the country they had traversed, they could see, miles away, the dark winding line, which showed where the camp was coming. After a time they started on, and as the sun began to fall toward the west, they saw from time to time, quite near them, a few bulls. One of these was lying on a broken hillside not far from the course they were to follow, and as they approached it, Fox Eye said to Hugh, "I think I will go and kill that bull. My lodge has no fresh meat and I can kill this animal without going far. You go on, and I will kill it and bring some of the meat, and soon overtake you." Presently they passed out of sight of the distant bull, and soon Fox Eye left them, and rode off toward it, while the others went on their way. After a little they heard a distant report of the gun, and Hugh, turning to Jack, said, "Well, I guess the old man got him." Before they had gone very far, however, they heard very faintly, two reports, almost together, and then a third, and Hugh, wheeling his horse, shouted, "Come on, boys, Fox Eye has been attacked;" and in a moment all three were riding as hard as they could, back toward where the bull had been seen. The distance was not great, but to Jack and Joe it seemed as if their horses had never gone so slowly. In a very few minutes, however, they crossed a ridge from which they could see the bull lying on the hillside, and near it, another large animal, but nothing was seen of Fox Eye. A very few minutes more brought them close to the bull, and then they could see that the other animal was Fox Eye's horse lying dead, and a moment later Fox Eye, himself, raised his head from behind the bull's body. As they stopped by him, he spoke to Hugh and said, "You see that the words of my dream came true, friend;" and as he struggled to his feet, they saw that he was wounded in the leg, and was bleeding badly.
Hugh quickly dismounted and looked at the wound, which had been made by a big trade ball that had passed through the fleshy part of the thigh, fortunately without breaking the bone or cutting any important blood vessel.
"Well," said Hugh, "we must fix you up, friend, you are bleeding badly."
"Yes," said Fox Eye, "I was surprised. I did not listen to the words spoken to me in sleep, and have acted foolishly, but first ride to the top of the hill and see where these enemies have gone, I saw three of them and there may be more."
"That's a pretty good idea," said Hugh, "scatter out, boys, and let's go up to the top of the hill. Joe, you take Fox Eye's gun and go to the North; son, you go to the South, and I'll go up in the middle; I guess those fellows saw us coming in plenty of time and have skinned out."
Well spread out, the three rode to the top of the hill and looked carefully over. There, a long way off, galloping over the prairie as hard as they could to the East, were seen three horsemen. They were too far off to be overtaken, and a little search along the hillside showed that there were no more enemies there.
They returned to Fox Eye, and as well as they could, with handkerchiefs and with pieces torn from their shirts, they bandaged his wounds. His horse was dead, and Joe put its saddle on the animal he had been riding, and prepared to go forward on foot.