Reuben was aware that he was not far from the base of one of the
highest mountains. As once more he looked up and peered intently in
every direction, he was aware also that no one was within sight. The
poor beast on which he had ridden was dead and there was no means by
which the young trapper might return to the camp where he had left his
friend. In the distance the herd of buffaloes still could be seen, a
tiny mass moving across the plains in the dim light. Even while he was
gazing at them they disappeared and were lost to sight among the
foothills.
Reuben was aware that he had shot one cow, but where the animal had
fallen or how far it was from the place where he now was standing he
had no means of knowing. He looked behind him, but was unable to
discover even his own trail in the sand. All traces had been destroyed
by the hoof-prints of the mighty herd of fleeing animals.
In what direction had he come? Reuben was aware that in a general way
he had followed the line of foothills, but it was plain to him now that
the herd which he had pursued had not moved in a straight course. In
and out over the uneven ground, the animals, frantic with fear, had
fled for safety.
The young trapper was aware also that he was hungry, and yet he had no
food. If he could secure the carcass of the buffalo cow he had shot his
wants would be supplied. The light, however, was too dim to enable him
to see far away, and even in clear daylight he was doubtful if he could
see the body in the distance.
Again he tried to discover the fire or smoke of the camp which he and
Jean had made. Not a trace of it, however, was to be seen. It was quite
likely that the very fire itself had been scattered by the herd when
they had dashed across the plains. The pack-horses, too, doubtless had
fled, and Reuben shuddered as he thought what was likely to be their
fate before the morning appeared. The pursuit of the buffalo calf by
the gaunt, hungry wolves was only an indication of what might occur
when the ponies, wearied by their efforts throughout the day, would be
in no condition to escape from the attack of the savage animals.
For several minutes Reuben remained standing, slowly turning in his
position until he had looked about the entire region. He listened
intently, hoping that he might hear the sound of Jean’s rifle. The
oppressive silence of the great desert, however, was unbroken.
Twinkling stars had appeared in the sky, the air was motionless, the
solitude was almost appalling, and within a few minutes Reuben decided
that he must take his rifle and saddle and proceed in the direction in
which he thought the camp was located.
The boy, however, was now feeling the full force of the reaction after
his strenuous day. Every muscle in his body seemed to be sore. He
advanced with difficulty, and the saddle somehow appeared to be much
heavier than when he had thrown it on the back of his pony.
It was impossible for him to think of remaining where he was. He was
hungry as well as tired, and the fear of an attack by a pack of hungry
wolves was more than a vague impression.
Suddenly Reuben saw the outline of three dim forms approaching on
horseback. Startled by the unexpected sight, the boy remained
motionless and waited for the strangers to come near him. The sight was
not one to soothe the fears of the troubled young trapper, but he was
convinced that his safest course was to await their coming.
Accustomed now to the dim light, not many minutes elapsed before the
young man was able to see that the advancing party was composed, of
three Indians. One of them was much smaller than his two companions and
perhaps was a lad. Who they were or why they should be coming at that
time he was unable to conjecture.
It was plain, however, that his presence had been discovered, for a
slight divergence in the course the Indians were following showed that
they were now approaching. In a brief time they drew near and one of
them spoke. “How? How?” inquired the leader. At the same time he
indicated, by extending his open hands, that no hostile action was
intended.
Following their example, Reuben also held forth his hands in a way to
indicate his peaceful intentions.
“Where go?” inquired the Indian that before had spoken.
“I want to find my camp,” answered Reuben. He was relieved by his
discovery that the three Indians were poorly mounted, the beasts which
they were riding apparently being well-nigh exhausted. The smallest
member of the party he now discovered was an Indian boy, perhaps
fifteen years of age. It was manifest, too, that the spokesman was the
only one able to speak English.
“Where go? Where go?” repeated the Indian.
“I want to find my camp,” again answered Reuben. “I left my partner
back yonder somewhere, while I went out to shoot buffaloes. My horse
stumbled and fell in a prairie-dog village over here. The poor brute
broke his leg and I had to shoot him. I thought I was not very far from
camp, but I reckon now I am a good deal farther than I thought I was.
Where are you going? Who are you?”
“Cheyenne,” answered the Indian promptly. “We go home.”
“How far do you go?” inquired Reuben.
The Indian held up three fingers of his right hand to indicate the
distance which must be covered before they rejoined their tribe.
“Three miles!” said Reuben, startled by the suggestion.
The Indian laughed and, shaking his head, again held up his three
fingers.
“Three hundred miles, you mean?” said Reuben.
The Indian nodded his head several times to indicate that the young
white had spoken correctly. Plainly the words “hundred” and “miles”
were not in his vocabulary.
Patting himself upon the chest, the Indian said: “Me Breaker of Arrows.
Come to Pawnee country. Try to get Pawnee ponies.”
“You mean you came out here to steal their horses?” inquired Reuben.
“No steal; _take_ horses.”
“How many did you get? It doesn’t look as if you had had very great
success. These ponies you are riding look as if they had been turned
loose by the Pawnees. They aren’t worth feeding.”
“Pawnee heap coward!” said the Indian grimly. “Pawnee shut up horses in
lodges at night.”
“Did they find you?” inquired Reuben.
“No find. Breaker of Arrows, Cheyenne. Dark Night, no find,” added the
warrior, pointing to the boy as he spoke.
The third member of the party apparently was ignored.
“Where did you get these ponies?”
“Ponies wild. Get horses on plains.”
“They look as if they were wild,” said Reuben. “Have you had anything
to eat?”
“No eat,” replied the warrior; at least the man was posing as a
warrior, although the only weapons the three Cheyennes carried were
bows and arrows and one long spear, which was in the hands of the
spokesman.
“I shot a buffalo cow.”
“Where buffalo?” demanded the Cheyenne quickly.
“I wish I knew,” replied Reuben lightly. “I am hungry and tired. I
ought to have stopped when I shot one, for one was enough, but I kept
on, thinking I would get another, and so I passed the place where the
cow fell. If you can find it you will have something for supper, for I
will be glad to share with you.”
The Cheyenne turned and spoke in his own tongue to his companions.
After a hasty conversation the spokesman once more turned to Reuben and
by the aid of signs and a few words intimated his desire for the young
trapper to remain where he then was while the Indians searched for the
body of the fallen buffalo.
Somewhat suspicious that if the strangers should succeed in finding the
dead animal they might not return, Reuben nevertheless agreed to the
suggestion, at the same time striving to conceal his own fears.
At once the Indians departed after they had secured from Reuben his
impressions of the direction in which they should go. The boy watched
them until the outlines of their forms no longer could be seen in the
dim light. It was plain to him that they were moving in parallel lines
at a considerable distance from one another.
Casting his saddle upon the ground, Reuben stretched himself on the
sand, using the saddle as a pillow. His rifle was loaded and placed
beside him, and in a brief time the young trapper was sleeping soundly.
How long he had slept he was unable to decide when he was suddenly
aroused from his slumber by the sound of approaching footsteps. Lifting
his head but still retaining his position, Reuben peered in every
direction to discover the approaching party. At first he was unable to
see what had awakened him, but in a brief time he saw a man approaching
on horseback. In a little while he was convinced that the man was an
Indian, and if so doubtless was one of the party which he recently had
seen. His impression was confirmed when in a low voice the approaching
Indian spoke: “Find um buffalo.”
“Where is it?” inquired Reuben.
The Indian did not reply, but alighted from his pony, for by this time
he had drawn near the place where Reuben was standing, and bade him
follow.
“Where are you going?” inquired Reuben.
Still the Indian did not explain, and after a brief hesitation Reuben
decided to obey the suggestion.
Slowly the Cheyenne, who still was on the back of his pony, led the way
toward the foothills that now seemed to be nearer than before. In a
brief time the desired point was gained and there Reuben discovered the
Indian boy who had been with him a little while before. The third
Indian, however, was no longer to be seen, and no explanations were
given for his absence, although Reuben asked several times where the
other member of the party was.
Sheltered by a huge rocky boulder, the Indians soon kindled a fire and
parts of the buffalo tongue and steaks which they had cut from the
carcass were roasting on sticks held over the flames.
Conversation ceased until the repast was prepared and eaten. Then
Reuben inquired: “Did you see anything of my friend?”
“No see. What do now?”
“Do you mean what I am going to do?” inquired Reuben. “Well, I wish
some one would answer that question for me.”
“Breaker of Arrows go home. Black Night come, too. White boy want to go
with us?”
“No,” answered Reuben, “I must stay here. I must find my friend.”
Apparently his explanation satisfied his companions, for in a brief
time they mounted their ponies and prepared to leave Reuben alone in
the little valley or defile where the buffalo meat had been roasted.
It was impossible for Reuben to resume his search for Jean. In the
place where he then was he was protected from sudden attacks and he
decided to remain there and await the coming of the morning.
The night passed without any adventures, but when morning came the
light revealed to Reuben a sight even more startling than that of the
preceding evening, when the three Cheyennes had discovered him alone on
the plains.