In starting in chase of the straying _cavallada_, the Cheyennes did not
go on at full speed. The spectacle of over twenty horses saddled and
bridled, wandering about without riders on their backs, or the sign of
an owner following after them, was one so novel, that, while causing
astonishment to the savages, it also aroused their instincts of caution.
It looked like what the Indians had first taken it for--a stampede.
And still it might be the ruse of an enemy, with the design of drawing
them into an ambuscade. Partly for this reason, and partly that the
ownerless animals might not be scared into a second stampede, and so
become difficult of capture, the Cheyennes rode toward them slowly and
deliberately.
As they drew near, however, and still no white men appeared in sight,
they quickened their pace, and at length broke into a gallop--charging
at full speed upon the sauntering drove. This had become necessary, as
the white men's horses had "smelt Indian," and with crests erect, and
snorting nostrils, showed signs of making off.
For a period of ten minutes there was a confused movement upon the
plain--a sort of irregular tournament, in which horses ridden by dusky
riders, and others without any, were mingled together and galloping
towards every point of the compass; long slender ropes, like snakes,
suddenly uncoiled, were seen circling through the air; wild cries were
heard, sent forth from a score of savage throats--the clamour increased
by the shrill neighing of horses and the shriller hinneying of the
mules--while the firm prairie turf echoed the tread of over a hundred
hoofs.
And soon this tableau underwent a change. The dark moving mass became
scattered over a wider surface, and here and there could be seen, at
intervals apart, the oft-described spectacle of a horseman using the
lazo: two horses at opposite ends of a long rope stretched taut between
them, tails toward each other, one of them standing with feet firmly
planted, the lazo fast to a stapled ring in the tree of his saddle; the
other prostrate upon the ground, with the rope wound around his neck, no
longer struggling to free himself, but convulsively to get breath.
And soon again the tableau became changed. The captured steeds were
whipped back upon their feet, and their captors once more got into a
clump together, each leading a spare horse, that followed without
further resistance.
Some had none, while others, more fortunate or skilful, had succeeded in
making a double take during the quick scramble.
After the more serious work of the morning, it was a light and pleasant
interlude for the young Cheyennee, and, as they returned toward their
camp, they were full of joyous glee.
Still were their thoughts damped with some suspicion of danger. The
novelty of such an easy razzia had in it also something of mystery; and
as they rode slowly back over the prairie swells, they glanced anxious
glances toward the north--the point from which the stampeded horses had
come.
But no one was in sight--there was no sign of a human being!
Were the owners of the lost horses asleep? Or had they been struck
dead, before the scattering commenced?
The mutual congratulations of the savages on the handsome _coup_ they
had made were restrained by the mystery that surrounded it; and, with
mingled feelings of gladness and apprehension, they once more approached
the spot where, as they supposed, their comrades and captives awaited
them.
They went with as much speed as the led horses would allow them. Their
chief, cunning as he was courageous, suspected that danger might be
nigh. Where there was smoke there should be fire; and thinking of this
old adage, he knew that where there were over twenty caparisoned horses
there must be at least this number of men not far off--men who could
only be enemies. Now that the animals were in his possession, he was
sure of their owners being white. The saddles, bridles, and other
trappings were such as are never, or only occasionally, used by the
red-skinned cavaliers of the prairie. Though now surely afoot, the men
to whom the horses belonged would be as sure to follow them; and the
Yellow Chief knew that a score of white men armed with their
death-dealing rifles would be an overmatch for his band, though these
outnumbered them two to one. The captured animals told him something
besides: their caparison proved them to belong to trappers; which, in
his reckoning, more than doubled their number.
To gather up the spoils taken from the emigrant train, along with the
captives, and take speedy departure from the place, was now his design.
He was thinking of the triumph that awaited him on his return to the
head town of the great Cheyenne tribe; the welcome he would receive
bringing back such a booty--horses, spoils, prisoners, the last to be
distributed as slaves--of his increased glory in the nation, his
promotion among the leaders, and the hope some day to become head chief
of the Cheyennes--all these thoughts passing through his mind made him
highly exultant.
And there was the other thought--revenge over his enemies in early
life--those by whose tyranny and persecution he had been driven forth to
find a home, and along with it honour, among the red men of the
wilderness.
His fiendish spirit felt sweet joy, thus revelling in revenge; and as he
rode back toward the camp, where he knew his victims awaited him, he
might have been heard muttering to himself:
"They shall serve me, as I have served them. And she who is called my
sister--_she shall be my slave_!"