IN THE HOME OF THE BLACKFEET
Their coming was greeted by the loud barking of dogs, while from the
tepees appeared as if by magic, women and children, together with
innumerable braves and boys.
They fairly swarmed out into the open space in front of the camp,
setting up a shout as they recognized the newcomers.
"They seem to be mighty glad to see us," growled Tad. "Wish I could
say as much for them."
The ponies, seeming to share the general good feeling, pricked up
their ears and dashed into the camp at a gallop, Pink-eye with the
rest. Almost before the little animals had come to a stop, the
braves threw themselves from their saddles and darted into their
tepees.
"They seem to have left me out of it, so I guess I'll go back,"
decided the lad half humorously. But he was given no chance to slip
away. The young brave who had accompanied his chief, came running
out and grasped the pony by its bridle.
"Boy, git off," he said.
Tad threw a leg over the pommel and landed on the ground. He could
hardly stand, so stiff were his legs.
The young brave took him into one of the tepees, held the flap aside
while Tad entered, then closed it. The lad heard him moving
away. Tired out and dispirited, Tad Butler threw himself down on the
grass and, in spite of his troubles, was asleep in a few moments.
A dog barking in front of his tepee awakened him. The boy pulled the
flap aside ever so little and peered out. He was surprised to find
that the sun was setting. He had been asleep practically all day
long.
Scrambling to his feet hastily the lad stepped outside. He did not
know whether he would be permitted to roam about, but he proposed to
try. The answer came quickly. A brave whom he had not seen before
suddenly appeared and, with a grunt of disapproval, grabbed Tad by
the arms, fairly flinging him into the tepee.
The lad's cheeks burned with indignation.
"I'll teach them to insult me like that," he fumed, shaking his fist
toward the opening. "I'll look out anyway."
He did so, prudently drawing the flap close whenever he heard anyone
approaching. Once as he peered out, a disreputable looking cur
snapped at his legs. First, the lad coaxed the animal, then tried to
drive him away, finally administering a kick that sent the dog away
howling.
"I've got revenge on one of the gang anyway," he laughed. "But it's
not much of a revenge, at that. I wonder if they are going to bring
me anything to eat. I----"
The flap was suddenly jerked aside and the face of the chief
appeared in the opening.
"How," greeted Chief Willy.
"How," answered Tad rather sullenly. "What do you want?"
"Paleface want eat?"
"You ought not to have to ask that question. So you can talk
English just a little bit? Chief, when are you going to let me go
away from here? It will only get you into trouble if you try to
keep me. They are sure to find me."
"No find," grunted the chief.
"Oh, yes they will."
"Ugh," answered the redskin, hastily withdrawing. Then followed
another long period when Tad was left alone with his thoughts.
"I wonder two things," thought the lad aloud. "I wonder what he
brought me here for and I wonder when I am going to get something to
eat? Captured by the Indians, eh? That's more than the rest of the
Pony Riders can say."
Yet there was a more serious side to it all. They had taken him
prisoner for some purpose, but what that purpose was he could not
imagine.
His thoughts were interrupted by some one silently entering the
tent. Glancing up, Tad saw a slender, rather pretty Indian girl
standing there looking down at him.
The boy scrambled to his feet and took off his sombrero.
"How," he said.
The girl answered in kind. Then she placed on the ground before him
a bowl of soup and a plate of steaming stew. Tad sniffed the odor
of mutton, which now was so familiar to him, wondering at the same
time, if it had come from Mr. Simms's flock.
"Thank you," he said. "If you will excuse me I will eat. I'm awfully
hungry."
She nodded and Tad went at the meal almost ravenously. The Indian
girl squatted down on the ground and watched him.
"What's your name?" he asked between mouthfuls.
"Jinny."
"That's a funny name. Doesn't sound like an Indian name. Is it?"
"Me not know. Young buck heap big eat," she added.
"Yes. Oh, yes, I have something of an appetite," laughed Tad.
"Jinny, what are they going to do with me, do you know?"
The girl shook her head with emphasis.
"What tribe is this?"
"Blackfeet. Other paleface boy here too."
Tad set down his plate and surveyed her inquiringly.
"Say that again, please. You say there's another paleface boy here
in this village?"
Jinny nodded vigorously.
"Who is he?"
"Jinny not know."
"When did he--how long has he been here?"
"Sun-up."
"This morning?"
"Yes. He there," pointing with a finger to the lower end of the
village.
Tad's curiosity was aroused. He wondered if another besides himself
had been made an unwilling guest by the Blackfeet wanderers. If so,
it must have been by another party. A sudden thought occurred to
him. Tad was wearing a cheap ring on the little finger of his left
hand. He had picked up the ring on the plains in Texas. Hastily
stripping it from his finger he handed it to the girl.
"Want it, Jinny?"
She did. Her eyes sparkled as she slipped it on her own finger and
held it off to view the effect.
"Thank," she said, turning her glowing eyes on Tad.
"You're welcome. But now I want you to do something for me. I'll
send you another, a big, big ring when I get home, if you will help
me to get away from here."
Jinny eyed him steadily for a few seconds, then shook her head.
"I'll send you beads, too, Jinny--beads like the paleface ladies
wear."
"You send Jinny white woman beads!"
"I promise you."
"Me help um little paleface buck. Me help um two," she added,
holding up two fingers. Without another word, she slipped from the
tepee as silently as she had come.
Tad pondered over this last remark for some time. He did not
understand what Jinny had meant.
"So I'm a buck, am I? That's one thing I haven't been called before
since I have been out on the range. She said she would help me to
get away. I wonder when she is going to do it."
Though Tad waited patiently until late in the evening, he saw no
more of the little Indian girl. Shortly after dark several
camp-fires were lighted, the cheerful blazes lighting up the street
or common in front of the row of tepees in which his own was
located.
Children played about the fires, the dogs were disputing over the
bones tossed to them after the evening meal, while the squaws and
braves, gathered in separate groups, were squatting about,
gesticulating and talking.
To Tad Butler the scene held a real interest. He had never before
seen an Indian camp, and least of all been a prisoner in it. He lay
down on his stomach, with elbows on the ground, chin in hands, and
gazed out over the village curiously.
"I wonder who that other boy is," he mused. "I presume he is a
prisoner, too. Hello, there's my guard."
An Indian, with knees clasped in his arms, was rocking to and fro a
little distance from the tepee. Though he was not looking toward
Tad's tent, the lad felt sure the fellow had been placed there to
watch him. He understood then why Jinny had not been to the tepee
since bringing his meal.
Finally the camp quieted down, the fires smouldered and the dogs
stretched out before them for sleep. Tad Butler's tired head drooped
lower and lower, his elbows settling until his arms were down and he
was lying prone upon the ground, sound asleep.
After a time the Indian whom the lad had seen sitting out in front
rose, and, stepping softly to the tepee, looked in. He gave a grunt
of satisfaction, threw himself down right at the entrance and was
snoring heavily half a minute later.
The camp slumbered on undisturbed until aroused by the ill-natured
curs at daybreak next morning.
Tad was awakened by one of them barking at his door and snapping at
him. Suddenly pulling his flap open, he hurled his sombrero in the
dog's face, frightening it, so that it slunk away with a howl. Tad,
laughing heartily, reached out and recovered the hat.
"Hey, there, I want to wash," he called to a brave who was
passing. The redskin paid no attention to him. "All right, if you
won't, then I'll go without you."
He stepped boldly from the tepee and headed for a small stream at
the left of the village, which he had observed on the previous
day. He had not gone far before he observed that he was being
followed at a distance. He did not let it appear that he noticed
this, and after making his toilet strolled back to his tepee.
Tad shrewdly reasoned that if he could induce them to relax their
vigilance over him, he would have a better chance to make his
escape, and he determined that he would act as if he had no
intention of leaving.
He made an effort to find out where they had tethered Pink-eye, but
there were no signs of ponies anywhere. He knew, however, that they
could not be far away, for the Indian always keeps in touch with his
mount.
Jinny came with his breakfast at sunrise. He noticed the first thing
that she was not wearing the ring he had given her, but before he
had an opportunity to comment on it, the girl drew the ring from a
pocket, placed it on a finger and fell to admiring it.
Tad laughed and turned to his breakfast. This consisted of a big
bowl of corn meal, steaming hot, with some cold mutton on the
side. Frankly, he admitted to himself that he had eaten far worse
meals in more civilized communities.
"Good morning, Jinny. I was so much interested in the breakfast that
I forgot to say it when you first came in. This is very good. Did
you cook it?"
She nodded.
"I thought so. You beat Old Hicks's cooking already. Hicks is the
cook out on Mr. Simms's sheep ranch, where I come from. Understand?"
"Yes."
"I thought you were going to help me to escape," said Tad, suddenly
leaning toward her. "Aren't you?"
Jinny made a sign for silence, and then went to the opening and
peered out cautiously. She returned, and, placing her mouth close to
the lad's ear, whispered, "Bymeby."
Tad could scarcely repress a laugh at the tragic tone in which she
said it. Yet his face was perfectly sober and he continued with his
breakfast without further comment.
Jinny gathered up the dishes and left him without a word. After a
time the boy pulled back the flaps and sat down to watch the life of
the camp by daylight. The squaws were busily at work, carrying wood
and engaged in other occupations, though few of the braves were to
be seen. The boy concluded that they must be sleeping.
The hours dragged along slowly. It seemed an age until night came
once more. Somehow he felt that the night would bring him good
luck. A warning glance from the Indian girl when she brought his
supper told him that conversation were better not indulged in, so he
said nothing to her. She left the dishes with him and went away at
once.
That night Tad sat up until late, hoping vainly for word from Jinny,
but none came. When the guard approached the tent along toward
midnight, Tad feigned sleep, and so well did he feign it that he
really went to sleep.
He thought he had been napping but a few moments, when a peculiar
scratching sound on the back of his tepee brought him up sitting,
every nerve on the alert.
Tad peered out through the flap. The guard was asleep. He crept back
to the other side of the tepee and scratched on the tepee wall with
his finger-nail.
"S-h-h."
The warning was accompanied by a slight ripping sound, and he knew
the wall was being slit with a knife.
"Paleface buck, come with Jinny," whispered a voice in his ear.