The Indians who had been seen from the camp were Arapahoes, in
pursuit of Dove-eye and the companions of her flight. Their chief
was well enough acquainted with the reputation of both Old Blaze and
Silverspur to know that they would not easily be caught, and he had
determined to take enough men to follow them, if necessary, into the
heart of the Crow nation. The pursuers, therefore, were a war-party,
numbering nearly two hundred of the best braves of the Arapahoes, a
truly formidable array to the Crows and their white friends, if their
intentions should prove to be hostile.
Their inclinations were by no means peaceable. They halted on
perceiving the Crows, and sent forward scouts to ascertain who and how
many they were. When the scouts returned with the report that it was
a band of Crows, accompanied by a small body of soldiers, they made
preparations to attack, supposing that the Crows and their white allies
were coming south to punish the Arapahoes for their last raid into the
Crow country. They were a little fearful of coming into collision with
Uncle Sam; but there was such a fine opportunity for obtaining scalps
and plunder, that almost any excuse would serve them.
They were anticipated, however, by Colonel Wilder, who sent forward
Lieutenant Rawlings and one of his men, with a flag of truce, to
explain the objects of the expedition.
The messengers halted within a short distance of the Arapahoes, and
made signs of amity, which were responded to by Black Horse, who rode
out to meet them, accompanied by several warriors. The lieutenant
informed them, in the bombastic style supposed to be necessary in
dealing with Indians, that their great father in Washington had sent
one of his war-chiefs for the purpose of persuading them to make peace
with the Crows. The Crows, he said, were anxious for peace, and their
head chief had come, accompanied by a number of his wisest warriors,
to make peace with the Arapahoes. He concluded by inviting Black Horse
to visit the camp of the white chief, who had brought a great many
presents for his people.
The Arapaho chief replied evasively. He feared that there was some
hidden motive under this invitation, and he wished to find out what
it was before giving a positive answer. Besides, he was in pursuit of
some fugitives, whom he was very anxious to overtake, and he did not
wish to be delayed unless he was sure of gaining. He was anxious to
make peace with the Crows, he said; but he was then traveling with a
particular object, which he ought to accomplish before attending to any
other business. He would like to know whether the lieutenant had seen
two white men riding toward the Crow country, accompanied by an Indian
girl and a negro.
Lieutenant Rawlings replied that he had seen them, and that they were
even then in the camp of the white men and the Crows.
Black Horse was rejoiced at receiving this intelligence, though he
maintained that stolid gravity of demeanor which permitted no trace
of emotion to be seen. He thought that he perceived an opportunity
to capture the fugitives, as well as to destroy the party of Crows
and white men, and reap a rich harvest of scalps and plunder. He had
warriors enough to defeat them; but he was not willing to risk their
lives in a fair fight, as long as there was a chance to accomplish his
object by stratagem. He commenced to negotiate, therefore, with a view
to future treachery.
He was afraid, he said, both of the white men and the Crows. The white
men had fought with the Crows against the Arapahoes, and he had reason
to believe that they were his enemies. For himself, he was a simple and
straightforward man, who was incapable of any treachery; but the Crows
were known to be tricky, and he feared that the white men were not any
more honest than they ought to be. His duty to his people compelled him
to be on his guard against treachery, and it would be nothing more than
fair, he thought, that he should be accompanied, on his visit to the
white chiefs camp, by as many warriors as he would find there.
Lieutenant Rawlings contended against this proposition to the best
of his ability, and protested the sincerity and peaceable intentions
of the white men and the Crows; but Black Horse argued the point so
mildly, rationally and plausibly, that the lieutenant was finally
obliged to agree to his conditions. Having learned from him the numbers
of the Crow warriors and white soldiers, Black Horse dismissed him,
promising to visit the camp within an hour.
When the lieutenant returned and reported the result of his mission, he
was blamed by his commander for the concessions that he had made. There
was, also, a general feeling of distrust and uneasiness in the camp
concerning the expected visit. Old Blaze did not hesitate to declare
that treachery was intended by the Arapahoes, and that they ought
not to be allowed to enter the camp. The Crow chief shook his head
solemnly, and directed his warriors to put their weapons in good order.
Silverspur was also gloomy, and made such preparations as he could,
to meet the worst that might happen. Colonel Wilder declared that, as
the Arapahoes had been invited to come in equal numbers, they must be
allowed to do so. He was there for the purpose of making peace, and
must not be frightened from his object by suspicion or possible danger.
At the same time, he would be on his guard, and would employ all the
means in his power to avert a collision and prevent treachery.
Within the hour the Arapahoes came in sight, approaching the camp.
Their numbers and appearance, when they were near enough to be
carefully observed, were not calculated to disarm suspicion. The Crows
and whites did not number more than seventy-five fighting men; while
the Black Horse had brought with him at least a hundred of his best
warriors, all completely armed and in fighting trim. They were allowed
to enter the camp without question, as preparations had been made to
give them a warm reception in case of treachery.
“My red brother has brought a great many of his young men,” suggested
Colonel Wilder, when the chiefs had seated themselves on the ground.
“The Crows and their white brothers have not so many warriors.”
“The young white chief said that there were so many here;” but
Lieutenant Rawlings protested that he had made no such statement.
“Black Horse does not pretend to be good at counting,” superciliously
replied the Arapaho. “A few warriors more or less are of no
consequence. Why should the white chief care? If he does not wish to
harm the Arapahoes, he need not ask to have as many warriors as they
have, and he knows that they have no wish to harm his people.”
Colonel Wilder let the subject drop, not deeming it of sufficient
importance to allow it to disturb the “talk,” and negotiations for
peace were opened. But there was a difficulty at the outset.
In the group of Crows and white men were Old Blaze and Silverspur,
and among the Arapahoes was the trader, Silas Wormley. Old Blaze was
recognized by Black Horse, who had seen him when a prisoner in the
Arapaho village, as well as on previous occasions. He had no doubt
that the companion of the hunter was Silverspur, whom he knew by
reputation. Silas Wormley, since his arrival, had been sharp-sighted
enough to catch a glimpse of Dove-eye and Jose, whose presence he had
duly reported to the chief. Assured that the fugitives were within his
reach, Black Horse devoted his first efforts to gaining possession of
them. Without going into particulars, he stated that they had stolen
into the Arapaho country, where they had done a great deal of damage,
and that he was in pursuit of them. He proposed, before proceeding
to talk of peace, that these offenders should be delivered up to the
Arapahoes, to be dealt with as they should see fit.
“Is this one of the men?” asked Colonel Wilder, pointing to Silverspur.
The chief nodded assent.
“He is my son.”
“Are not all the white people children of the white chief?”
sarcastically inquired Black Horse.
“His mother was my wife. You can not expect me to give up my son to be
killed, when he has committed no crime deserving of death.”
“Give us the other man, then--give us the Burnt Face,” said Black
Horse, who was willing to temporize, in order to gain time to carry out
a little stratagem that he had planned.
“What has he done?”
The chief could allege nothing against Old Blaze, except that he aided
Silverspur in carrying off an Arapaho girl.
“I will tell you what he has done,” replied the colonel. “You captured
him when he was hunting near your village, doing you no harm, and you
released him of your own accord. You had no right to capture him, and
you have no right now to reclaim him.”
“At least we can claim the girl,” said the chief, after casting an
anxious glance at the plain behind him. “Will you give her to us?”
“What claim have you upon her? She is not an Arapaho.”
“Not an Arapaho!” The chief started, astonished at this unexpected
rebuff. “Does the white chief know what he is saying? Why does he say
that she is not an Arapaho?”
“She is a Crow. She was stolen from the Crows many years ago. She is
the adopted child of this chief”--pointing to Bad Eye. “She was his
brother’s daughter.”
The countenance of Black Horse fell. He knew that it would be useless
to deny this fact.
“I begin to be afraid,” he said, “that you will not give us the horses
that were stolen from us by these people.”
“You shall have your horses, though I do not believe that they were
stolen. Now let us talk of other matters. I have come to try to make
peace between the Arapahoes and the Crows, and have brought presents
for you.”
Suspicious circumstances were transpiring in the mean time, indicating
the nature of the little stratagem that had been planned by the Arapaho
chief, and explaining the reason for his backward glances across the
plain.
The Arapaho warriors, instead of scattering about the camp, to gratify
their curiosity, and to pick up such loose available articles as they
could lay their hands on, as was the custom of Indians on the plains
at friendly talks, had kept in a body, had maintained a stolid gravity
of demeanor, and had watched every movement of their chief and of all
about the camp.
It soon became evident, also, that their numbers were increasing. On
a neighboring elevation, and in the timber that bordered the creek
adjoining the camp, were bodies of Arapahoes, from which small squads
detached themselves now and then, and sauntered leisurely toward the
camp, where they mingled with those who were already there.
These circumstances did not escape the keen eyes of the Arapaho chief,
who became bolder and more impudent as he noticed the arrival of his
reinforcements and the near approach of the rest of his band.
“The Arapahoes are not fools,” he said, in reply to Colonel Wilder.
“They make war or peace when they please, without asking the advice or
assistance of the white men.”
Colonel Wilder colored with indignation. He began to perceive that this
Indian meant treachery and mischief, and he was not a man who could
brook an insult from a savage.
“If my red brother does not wish to make peace,” he said, “he can go as
he came. The Arapaho has not done as he promised to do. He said that he
would bring no more warriors than were here; but he has brought many
more, and his young men are even now coming into the camp. I can not
allow this.”
“The white men tell us that we have a great deal of curiosity,” replied
Black Horse. “I suppose they speak the truth. My young men always wish
to see and hear every thing.”
“They must be sent back. As many warriors as we have may remain; but
the rest of the band must remove a mile from our camp.”
Black Horse was silent.
“Let the Arapaho answer. Is he willing to make peace, or does he still
wish for war?”
“Is the white chief a coward?” contemptuously replied Black Horse. “Is
he afraid of two or three poor Indians? Let him give us our presents,
and then we will talk about peace.”
Colonel Wilder made no response to this audacious demand.
“He must give us our presents,” continued Black Horse, “and he must
give up our prisoners, who have taken refuge in his camp.”
“When peace is made, the presents will be distributed, and not before.
There are no prisoners here who belong to the Arapahoes. If the chief
does not wish to make peace, the way is open, and he can go as he came.”
“We must have our presents and our prisoners.”
A child could have seen that a collision was inevitable. Black Horse,
with his tomahawk resting on his knee, and his rifle at his side,
was haughty and overbearing, and glanced around at his warriors, as
if conscious of his superior strength. The warriors, for their part,
were collected in a firm phalanx. Their outward demeanor was calm
and apparently indifferent, but their eyes, burning with revenge and
thirst for blood and spoil, were fastened on their chief, as if waiting
for the signal to commence the slaughter. Their teeth were clinched
tightly, their muscles were strained as if for a spring, and their left
hand held their rifles, while the right grasped the tomahawk or the
battle-ax.
On the other side was the same calmness of demeanor, which gave little
token of the excitement that was boiling within. The Crow warriors were
ready and anxious to be let loose at their antagonists, notwithstanding
the disparity in numbers, and behind their commander were drawn up the
twenty dragoons, standing at a rest, with their carbines ready for
instant action. Bad Eye, whose glance took in every thing that passed,
had his weapons within reach, and Colonel Wilder kept his hand within
his bosom, where it played nervously with the butt of a pistol.
Silverspur, who smelt blood in the air, had formed a plan of his
own, which he meant to carry into effect upon the first outbreak of
treachery. He had gradually and almost imperceptibly edged his way
toward the Arapaho chief, until he was almost near enough to touch
him. As he watched him closely, he perceived that there was a whistle
in the end of the handle of his tomahawk, and he had no doubt that
that whistle would give the signal for the onset, if any should be
given. While appearing to have all his attention concentrated upon the
speakers, he carefully kept one eye upon Black Horse and his tomahawk.
“What you ask is entirely out of the question,” said Colonel Wilder, in
reply to the last demand of the Arapaho chief. “If you have no better
terms to offer, you may go, and take your warriors with you.”
“The Arapahoes come as they please, and go as they please. They have
not learned to obey the commands of the white men.”
“If you will not have peace, you shall have war to your heart’s
content.”
“Then let it be war!” exclaimed the chief, as he quickly raised his
whistle to his lips.
But it did not sound. Before it reached his lips, Silverspur seized
him, and, exerting all his strength, jerked him from among his
warriors, into the ranks of the opposite side. Old Blaze, who had
divined the intentions of his friend, caught the chief by the arms, and
held him tightly; while Silverspur, grasping him by the scalp-lock,
flashed his keen hunting-knife before his throat.
“Hold!” exclaimed the young man, as the Arapahoes were handling their
weapons, uncertain whether to commence the attack. “If a shot is fired,
or if a man moves from his place, your chief dies that instant!”
The position of the Arapahoes was by no means such as Black Horse had
expected it to be. Their chief was in the power of their adversaries,
liable to be killed at the first hostile movement they should make,
and he had been seized before he was able to give them the signal for
the onset. Before them was the line of dragoons, with carbines leveled
and cocked, and all around them were clustered the Crow warriors, with
rifles to the shoulder and arrows on the string. The Arapahoes saw that
they had lost the advantage of surprise and the first attack, and were
willing to make terms.
Colonel Wilder took the word where his son had left off.
“Leave the camp!” he said. “Draw off, every man of you, a mile from
the camp, and take with you the warriors on the hill and in the timber
yonder, and your chief will be safe. If you go peaceably, and do as
I tell you, the chief will be released as soon as you reach your own
camp. If you do not”--pointing at the leveled guns behind him--“you see
that we have the advantage of you.”
The Arapahoes hesitated a few moments, consulted a little with each
other, and then sullenly returned in a body to their own camp.
Colonel Wilder read Black Horse a severe lecture upon his treacherous
conduct, to which the Arapaho listened in silence, and released him
when a scout reported that his warriors had all reached their former
location.