OLD ENEMIES
They watched until the grove finally faded out in the twilight. Then
they listened for sounds which might warn them of the arrival of a war
party. It was barely dark when they heard signals passing across the
plain. The cry of Ma-ya-sh sounded faintly from the west. It scarcely
died away before an answer rose from the vicinity of the grove.
"The war party is coming," said Sun Bird.
"Listen!" cautioned White Otter.
They listened closely. Many moments passed. The stillness was
unbroken.
"What was it?" inquired Sun Bird.
"I heard something, far away," White Otter told him. "It sounded like
a pony. I believe some one stopped the noise."
As time passed and they heard nothing further, they felt sure that a
company of foes had arrived at the grove. The thought made them
uneasy. They feared that the two scouts would be sure to tell their
companions about the pony tracks which crossed the ravine and led
away toward the east. The Sioux recalled that the mysterious riders
had spent some time looking toward the ridge.
"Perhaps they know we are here," said Sun Bird.
"Yes, I believe that is why they went away," replied White Otter. "I
believe they went to tell their people about it. Their friends waited
behind those trees to see if any one came over to this place."
"Well, they did not see us," said Sun Bird.
"No, they could not see us, but perhaps they know some one is watching
them," White Otter told him. "Perhaps scouts will ride over here to
find out about it. I believe scouts were close by when we were hiding
over there in that gully. Now they will come to this hill. It would be
foolish to stay here."
"Well, my brother, what do you propose to do?" inquired Sun Bird.
"I propose to find out about those people," replied White Otter.
"How can you do that?"
"Come, we will go to Little Raven," said White Otter. "Then I will
tell you about it."
They crossed back over the ridge, and found Little Raven waiting with
the ponies. He said he had seen nothing but a stray antelope on that
side of the ridge.
"My brothers, you must listen sharp to what I am about to tell you,"
said White Otter. "I believe a war party is hiding over there where
those trees grow. I do not know who it is. That is bad. Perhaps it is
the Pawnees. The Pawnees are our enemies. Once they came to our
village and did much harm. Perhaps they are going again to make war on
my people. It is true that we came here to look for buffaloes. Well,
we found something different. We are Dacotahs. We must find out who is
over there. We must try to find out where they are going. Then we will
know what to do. Perhaps we will do a big thing for my people."
White Otter paused and waited for his companions to speak. Many
moments passed before Sun Bird finally replied.
"My brother, your words are good," he said. "You are a great war
chief. You are the leader. Come, tell us what you propose to do."
"My brothers, I am going over there where the trees grow to find out
who is there," declared White Otter. "Now listen sharp. There is only
one way to do this thing. I believe scouts will come to this place. If
we cross over this hill and go straight ahead we will meet them. We
must not do that. I will tell you what to do. That gully where we hid
ourselves goes a long ways toward the lodges of my people. It is good.
We will follow this ridge that way. When we get past those trees, we
will cross this ridge and ride over to that gully. Those people will
go the other way to look for us. They will follow the tracks of our
ponies. When we get to that gully we will listen. If we do not hear
anything, I will go ahead and creep up to those trees. Perhaps I will
find out who is there."
"You are very brave, but you must not go there alone," said Sun Bird.
"You will be in great danger. I will go with you."
"No, you must not do that," White Otter told him. "You must stay
behind and help Little Raven with the ponies. Then if anything bad
happens to me, perhaps you can help me. It is the best way to do.
Come, my brothers, we will go away before those scouts come over here
and find us."
They rode northward along the base of the ridge. They went a long
distance before White Otter finally turned toward the west. Then they
rode to the top of the ridge, and stopped to listen. All was still.
Darkness hid the grove. They knew that the ravine was directly ahead
of them, and they advanced cautiously toward the west.
"Perhaps the ponies will call," Little Raven suggested, uneasily.
"We must be ready," White Otter cautioned him.
They rode across the plain in silence, alert for the first warning of
danger. They realized that at any moment they might encounter scouts
moving cautiously through the night along the flank of an advancing
war party. When they finally reached the ravine, the night was far
gone. White Otter and Sun Bird immediately dismounted, and climbed to
the top of the ravine. They looked anxiously in the direction of the
grove. It was hidden far away in the darkness. They watched for the
tell-tale glow of a fire, but had little hope of seeing it.
"No, those people are not so foolish," declared White Otter.
"Well, my brother, if there is no fire it will be hard to see who they
are," Sun Bird told him.
"Perhaps my ears will tell me that," replied White Otter. "I know the
words of the Pawnees. I know the words of the Crows. I know the words
of the Kiowas. I will get close to that place and listen sharp."
"White Otter, I believe it would be foolish to go over there," said
Sun Bird. "If you will listen to my words, I will tell you something
better."
"You are my brother, and you are a chief of the brave Minneconjoux--I
will listen to your words," agreed White Otter.
"It is good," declared Sun Bird. "Now I will tell you how I feel about
this thing. We are in a good place. Those people cannot see us when it
gets light. You say perhaps those people are Pawnees. It may be true.
You say perhaps they are going to fight your people. It may be true.
You say it makes you feel bad. You say we must find out about it. It
is true. I will tell you the best thing to do. We will stay here until
the light comes. Then we will watch close. If any one comes away from
that place we will see them. If they travel toward the lodges of your
people they will go by this place. Then we will follow them. We will
get close and find out who they are. If they go the other way, we will
let them ride away. My brother, I believe it is the best thing to
do."
White Otter kept silent. He was studying the plan of Sun Bird. The
latter waited patiently for him to reply. It was some time before
White Otter spoke.
"Sun Bird, I have listened to your words, but I will not do as you
propose," he said, finally. "You say if those people are going to the
lodges of my people they will pass this place. Perhaps they have
passed by here in the darkness. If we wait here until the light comes
perhaps it will be too late to help my people. My brother, I must find
out about it. I am going to do what I told you about."
"Well, you are the leader," Sun Bird told him. "I will not talk any
more against it."
"It is good," replied White Otter.
A few moments afterward he disappeared into the night. Choosing a star
to guide him in the proper direction, he loped across the plain as
easily and as silently as Ma-ya-sh, the wolf. Aware that there was a
possibility of blundering into his foes, he stopped many times to
listen. The great plain was steeped in silence. He believed that the
strangers had remained in the grove. The thought somewhat relieved
his anxiety for his people. He had little fear for himself. Having
passed through many thrilling adventures, he had learned to look upon
danger and death with the stolid indifference of the seasoned warrior.
White Otter had gone a long distance from the ravine when he suddenly
heard the long, dismal wail of a prairie wolf rising through the
night. The cry had sounded somewhere near the ridge upon which the
Sioux had passed the day. White Otter smiled as he realized that his
prophecy about the scouts had been verified.
"They did not find us," he murmured.
As the call was not repeated, he continued toward the grove. He
believed that the scouts were notifying their comrades that the
country was free of foes. White Otter found keen satisfaction in the
thought of outwitting them. He had little doubt that they were his
hated foes, the Pawnees, and he felt certain that they were on a war
expedition.
As he approached the grove, White Otter slackened his pace and became
as alert and cautious as To-ka-la, the little gray fox. He knew that
if a war party had taken possession of the grove, sentinels had been
stationed on the plain to watch for foes.
"Now I must be cautious," he told himself.
Soon afterward he saw the grim, black outlines of the grove directly
ahead of him. It was a number of arrow flights away, however, and he
stopped to listen. He heard nothing. Then he advanced. Slowly,
cautiously, he moved through the darkness, listening and watching for
the sentinels who he feared were close at hand. Then he heard a pony
snort. He stopped and waited in breathless suspense. He decided that
the sound had come from the grove. He advanced still more cautiously.
When he finally came within bowshot of the trees, he suddenly realized
his peril. Alone and on foot, he knew that once discovered there would
be little chance of escape. Still he was unafraid. Familiarity with
danger had given him confidence.
"I will get away," he kept telling himself.
Then he suddenly heard the murmur of voices. For an instant the sound
alarmed him. He had approached nearer the grove than he had supposed.
He sank noiselessly to the plain. He lay there some time, endeavoring
to identify the speakers. It was hopeless. The voices were low and
indistinct, and he could not distinguish the words. He realized that
he must go nearer. He crept slowly forward, a bow length at a time.
Then he stopped to listen. The voices had ceased. His heart beat
wildly. An alarming possibility flashed through his mind. Had he been
discovered? It seemed impossible. He banished the thought. The
silence, however, made him suspicious.
"Perhaps they are listening," he whispered.
The silence continued. White Otter was perplexed. He was less than
half a bowshot from the cottonwoods. He heard the leaves trembling. He
moistened his finger, and found the direction of the breeze. It was
stirring toward the grove. He felt relieved. It seemed less likely
that he had been discovered. Still he was uneasy. The sudden hush
alarmed him.
"Yes, they must be listening," he declared.
A moment afterward a pony whinnied. It seemed to be on the other side
of the grove. It was answered by several ponies in the timber. Then
some one called. The signal was low and guarded. A reply came from the
grove. White Otter heard hoofbeats. Some one was riding toward the
cottonwoods. White Otter listened in trying suspense. He heard many
voices. He breathed easier. The mystery was explained. He suddenly
realized that the scouts had returned. It was the sound of their
approach that had hushed the speakers in the grove.
"It is good," White Otter said, with great relief.
He believed that as the scouts had failed to find evidence of foes,
the company in the grove might grow bolder. The next few moments
seemed to confirm his hopes. The strangers were talking with far less
caution. Still he was unable to catch their words.
"I must go nearer," he said.
He crawled carefully toward the timber, stopping after each bow length
to watch and listen. The sounds from the grove reassured him. The
warriors were talking and laughing, and apparently had little fear of
attack. The ponies, too, were making considerable noise. He heard them
stamping, and grunting and shaking themselves. However, he felt quite
certain that they were securely picketed.
The sky was sprinkled with stars, and it was possible to see several
bow lengths through the night, but White Otter knew that it would be
impossible to penetrate the sinister black shadows which enveloped the
grove. His ears alone might tell him what he wished to know. He was
quite familiar with the words of the Pawnees, and the Crows, and had
heard the dialect of the Kiowas, and he hoped to identify the
strangers by their talk. It was a difficult and perilous undertaking,
for White Otter knew that to be successful he must approach close up
to the edge of the timber.
The night was well advanced and he knew that there was little time to
spare. The ravine was far away, and he realized that he would be
compelled to exert himself to the utmost to reach it before daylight
betrayed him to his foes. Once discovered on the open plain there
would be little hope of escape. He determined to make his attempt
without further delay. For a moment only he hesitated, while he turned
his face toward the sky.
"Wa-kan-tun-ka, make me strong to do this thing," he murmured.
Then he began his perilous, stealthy advance toward the timber.
The sounds convinced him that the strangers were assembled at the pool
in the center of the grove. He feared, however, that sharp-eared
sentinels might be lurking at the edge of the plain. Aware that the
slightest sound might betray him, he sank close to the earth and crept
forward as cautiously as a panther stalking its prey. It took many
moments to go a bow length. He had stopped behind a dense cluster of
bushes close to the edge of the timber, when he was startled by the
sound of voices within several bow lengths of him. He believed he had
encountered the sentinels. Scarcely daring to breathe, he pressed his
body against the plain and listened. The words of the speakers came
distinctly to his ears. He failed to recognize them. They were not the
words of the Pawnees. They did not sound like the words of the Crows.
The dialect seemed strange and unfamiliar. For some moments White
Otter was confused. He wondered if his ears were deceiving him. Then
he suddenly identified the peculiar accent. Several years before he
had heard it in the Kiowa camp. The mystery was solved. The people in
the grove were Kiowas.
Having learned the identity of his foes, White Otter was equally eager
to know if it was a war party or only a company of hunters. He saw
little chance of gaining the information. Unable to see the warriors
or to understand their words, there seemed no way to guess the
intentions of the Kiowas. In the meantime the night was slipping by.
Daylight was not far off. White Otter knew that it would be perilous
to loiter. Nevertheless he waited, each moment hoping to hear
something which might tell him whether the Kiowas were out for peace
or war. At last he was rewarded. He heard sounds in the timber which
convinced him that the Kiowas were dancing, and singing their war
songs. The scouts at the edge of the grove had joined in the chant,
and White Otter seized the opportunity to retreat.
Raising himself from the ground, he crawled slowly backward until he
had gone a bow length. Then he stopped to listen. The sounds still
came from the grove, but he heard nothing from the sentinels. Their
silence aroused his fears. Alarming possibilities suggested
themselves. Were the Kiowa sentinels listening? Had he betrayed
himself? He sank to the plain and waited. The moments seemed endless.
The uncertainty tried his courage. He was tempted to spring to his
feet, and dash wildly across the plain. He realized that the Kiowas
would soon overtake him. Then he heard the sentinels talking and
making their way into the grove. They had abandoned their vigil. His
heart filled with joy. He had accomplished his mission. The way was
open. He was free to go.
The eastern sky was already turning gray when White Otter finally
approached the spot where he had left Sun Bird and Little Raven. He
stopped and imitated the bark of the little gray fox. Three times he
gave the signal. Then he listened for an answer. A familiar voice
sounded softly through the darkness.
"The way is clear," said Sun Bird.
A moment afterward White Otter joined him at the top of the ravine.
They descended into the gully to join Little Raven.
"Well, my brothers, I have found out about those people," White Otter
told his companions. "They are Kiowas. I believe it is a war party."
"How did you find out about it?" inquired Little Raven.
"I went ahead until I got close to those trees," said White Otter.
"Then I crawled up behind some bushes. Then I heard some one talking.
I did not know the words. Pretty soon I found out about it. It sounded
like the Kiowas. I waited a long time. Then I heard those people
dancing and singing. Then I said: 'It is a war party.' That is all I
know about it."
"Well, pretty soon it will be light," Sun Bird told him. "Then we will
find out what the Kiowas propose to do."
"Yes, we must watch them until we know where they are going," said
White Otter.