SATANTA'S STORY
Next day, mounted on Black Prince, Tom started for Fort Larned. He had
stowed the skull of the supposed deceased wolf hunter in a gunny sack
tied to his saddle, but the buffalo shoulder-blade he wrapped carefully
in the fur of a fox skin, to make sure that no chafing should further
obliterate the already obscure record.
These relics he intended to submit to the best sign readers to be
found about the fort, to ascertain if any light could be thrown on the
supposed tragedy.
As I was writing a letter to send in by Tom, Jack remarked: "We ought
to have a name for our camp, a place to date letters from, something
more than just 'Camp on Walnut Creek.'"
"That wouldn't be a bad idea," I replied, "but what shall we call it?
The only things we see here are buffaloes, coyotes, and antelopes, with
a few prairie-dogs and rattlesnakes. How would it do to call our place
'Camp Antelope'?"
"I think it would be more to the point," said Jack, "to call it 'Camp
Coyote.'"
"Well," said Tom, "why not compromise and call it 'Camp Coyotelope'?"
"Let it be so," said I, and I so dated my letter, and from that time on
we spoke of our winter home as Camp Coyotelope.
Nothing unusual happened while Tom was gone. Jack tended his traps,
while I did the wolf baiting and skinning.
On the second evening, just in time for supper, Tom returned from Fort
Larned, bringing our mail, and as we gathered around the table we asked
him anxiously what he had learned about the dead man.
"A whole lot," replied the old man between mouthfuls, "an' not just
what I wanted to find out, either. None of 'em could make out the man's
name or where he come from any nigher than we did. I went right to the
adjutant's office, where I found several of the officers, an' when I
brought out the bones an' told 'em the story they became interested.
One officer had heard something about a party of hunters being wiped
out by the Injuns about a year ago, but he didn't know the particulars.
That writing on the old shoulder-blade attracted 'em most, an' each one
had to take it an' examine it. But they couldn't make it out.
"I suggested to the adjutant that maybe French Dave might know
something, an' he sent an orderly for Dave right away, an', sure
enough, the ol' French-Canadian did know something.
"Ol' Dave asked me: 'Where you find 'em?' An' then I told him all I
knew about the matter, an' what the signs seemed to show, an' read to
him the writing on the shoulder-blade, for Dave can neither read nor
write. He studied awhile an' then said: 'Yes--mus' be same lot. I know
'bout yother two. See 'em bones where Injuns kill 'em. No see this one
bones, but Satanta tell me 'bout it one day. Mus' be same one.'
"The story of the affair," continued Tom, "as I gathered it from
Dave, is about thisaway: Three wolf hunters with a wagon an' team had
established their camp on Walnut Creek, an' from what Dave says the
remains of that camp an' the bones of two of the men must be down the
creek from here about five miles, on the same side we are on.
"These wolf hunters had just fairly got established when Satanta an'
about twenty of his men come along, one day, just in time to see this
fellow, whose bones you found, a-starting off on the prairie to kill
a buffalo an' poison it for wolves. The Injuns hadn't been seen by
the white men, an' after this one was gone Satanta kept his men out
of sight of the wolf hunters, all except one besides himself, an' him
an' this one rode out in sight of the white men an' made signs of
friendship, an' the wolf hunters let 'em come into their camp. After
begging some grub from the white men the two Injuns made themselves
very agreeable an' friendly, an' by and by a few more of the Kiowas
dropped along an' was allowed to come into the camp; for I s'pose
they seemed so friendly that the white men thought it wouldn't look
neighborly to show any suspicion of such good Injuns.
"Satanta told Dave, bragging how slick he worked it, that when he got
these wolf hunters in a proper frame of mind an' saw that the sign was
right, he give the word, an' they turned loose and killed the two men
before they had time to realize the trap they'd got into.
"Then, after plundering the camp, a warrior called Lame Deer took six
others an' started off to follow up an' take in the man they'd seen
going away, for fear that he might somehow get wind of the affair
before coming back to camp and get away.
"They overtook him, so Satanta told Dave, just after the man had killed
a buffalo, skinned part of the hide back, an', as the Injuns supposed,
was about to cut out some o' the hump steak; an', just as we made it
out by the signs, the man, seeing the desperate fix he was in, had cut
his horse's throat to make a breastwork of his carcass on one side,
an', with the buffalo on the other, had got down between 'em an' give
the Injuns a rattlin' good fight, killin' one Kiowa, badly woundin'
another, an' killin' the two ponies you found the bones of.
"But they got him at last--at least he killed himself when he was down
to his last cartridge--an' then they piled onto him an' stripped every
stitch of clothes off his body, but, seein' that the man had committed
suicide, their superstitions kept 'em from scalping him or mutilating
his body.
"An', now comes a gratifying part of the proceedings, as told to Dave
by Satanta, that the signs didn't reveal to us. When Lame Deer an' his
party had stripped the dead man an' his horse of all their equipments
an' was gittin' ready to return to Satanta's party at the hunters'
camp, some of the Injuns concluded to cut out a big chunk of the hump
steak of the buffalo that the white man had just stripped the hide off
of an' intended to cut out the steak himself, as they s'posed.
"But it turned out that the white man had unconsciously set a
death-trap for some of 'em; for he had already poisoned the skinned
side of the buffalo, and when the Injuns got back to the camp an'
cooked an' eat their fresh hump steak all that eat the fresh meat was
poisoned, an' four of 'em kicked the bucket right there.
"Well, sir, Dave says, this so scared the rest of the Injuns that,
although they had packed their ponies with a lot of the white men's
provender, they were afraid to use any of the food, an' so they piled
all of it into the white men's wagon an' set fire to it an' burned the
whole business.
"Then, packing the bodies of their dead warriors on their ponies, they
made their way back to their main village, some miles down the creek,
a little the loser in the long run, for, although they had killed
the three white men an' destroyed their outfit, it had cost 'em five
warriors.
"The wiping out of these wolf hunters," Tom went on, "corroborates what
I've often told you, an' what your own experience ought to teach you,
that it's never safe to depend on the friendship of Injuns--'specially
Kiowas. Whenever they can get a good chance at a white man, or a small
party of whites, they don't hesitate to murder 'em--an' 'specially a
party of hunters, for that class they consider their natural enemies
on account of the hunters killing what the Injuns claim to be the red
man's game.
"I left them bones with the adjutant over to the fort," continued Tom,
"as he thought maybe somebody might come along who could throw more
light on the mystery. Then I called on Weisselbaum an' told him we were
just a-gettin' under good headway poisoning wolves, trapping beaver,
an' so forth, an' he offered to buy all our catch--wanted to make a
bargain with me right then--but I stood him off, for I think maybe we
can do better to take our skins into Leavenworth. Some of the officers
wanted to know if we couldn't bring 'em over a saddle of antelope for
their mess whenever one of us goes over there for our mail. I guess we
can do it just as well as not an' make a little spending money on the
side; an', besides, it's always a good idea to be on good terms with
the officers at the post, for we may want favors from them now an'
then."
Since moving into our dugout we had found ourselves so much more
cramped for room than we had been in the tent that, following Tom's
suggestion and example, we had each built himself a swinging frame of
poles with a buffalo-hide stretched over it on which to spread our
beds. During the day we kept these hanging bunks triced up to the
timbers overhead, out of the way, lowering them to within a couple of
feet of the floor to sleep in after supper each evening. We found them
a luxury compared with sleeping on the hard ground.
Next day, after Tom's return from the fort, Jack and I rode down the
creek to look for the bones of the wolf hunters of whom French Dave
had told Tom and had little difficulty in finding them, for the burnt
remains of their little log cabin, on the prairie, a little way from
the timber, attracted us and guided us to the spot. The bones of the
two men had been scattered by the wolves, but the irons of their burnt
wagon were lying just where the fire had left them.
That their camp had been established at a reasonable distance from the
timber and otherwise well located in a defensive point of view showed
that these men had had some knowledge of the dangers to be guarded
against from hostile Indians and that they had probably been plainsmen
of experience; but, as Tom said, their fatal error was in allowing too
many Indians to come into their camp.
We were now--about the middle of December--"doing a land-office
business," as Jack expressed it, in taking wolf pelts, gathering them
in daily about as fast as we could take care of them. Jack was doing
well also in beaver trapping, having already accumulated a lot of fine
furs.
Tom had rigged up a press by means of which we put the skins into
compact bales and stowed them away in the tent. The tunnel connecting
the dugout and tent came up into the latter right in the centre,
between the legs of the iron tripod that supported the tent-pole, and
he placed the bales of skins in a close wall all around the tent,
leaving an open space in the centre around the tripod, and I asked him
why.
"This tent," he answered, "will be our lookout station and also our
'bomb-proof' in case of need."
"The bales of fur'll make it bullet-proof, all right," I replied, "but
I don't see how we can see out after you get that bank of wolfskins
piled up toward the tops of the doors."
"When we get them up that high," said Tom, "I intend to cut three or
four loopholes in the canvas, about big enough to look through an'
shoot out of, an' over each hole, to keep out the weather, I'll sew a
flap that can be tucked up or let down to suit circumstances."
"Great head," said Jack. "A good general was spoiled when Tom enlisted."
"'In time of peace, prepare for war,' was one of George Washington's
maxims," said Tom, "an' never was more sensible advice given for either
individual or nation."
Usually Jack and I did most of the hunting and scouting around over the
adjacent country, but now and then Tom would strike out for a short
trip up or down the creek on his own account.
One day, after being out for a short time, he came hurrying back and
began to delve in the mess-chest, inquiring for a fish-hook and line
that he had seen there, declaring that he had just found a lot of fresh
otter tracks on the bank of the creek.
"Why, Tom," asked Jack innocently, "do they catch otter with
fish-hooks?"
"No, you numskull," replied the old man impatiently, "the fish-hook and
line is to catch fish to bait traps for the otter.
"Now, then, Jack," continued the old man after finding his
fishing-tackle and assuring himself that it was in good condition,
"come along with me down to the beaver dam, an' while I catch a fish or
two for bait you pull up a couple of your beaver traps an' we'll set
for otter."
"Well, I guess I can spare you a couple of traps now," replied Jack.
"I ain't catching as many beavers lately as when I first started in.
I think I'm getting the herd pretty well thinned out. But I've done
pretty well at trapping, for I've took some thirty odd nice beaver
skins besides a few muskrats."
A few hours later the two men returned to camp after having caught some
fish and baited and set the traps for otter, and next morning, taking
Jack with him, Tom found, on visiting his traps and fishing them up out
of the water, a fine otter fastened by a leg in each trap and drowned.
Later Tom took a number of otter skins, but they were by no means as
numerous as the beaver.
Black Prince, after he became accustomed to it, was a much better
buffalo horse than either of the mustangs, though, when two mounted
hunters went out, the buckskin bronco, Vinegar, did pretty well for
that work. The gray mare, Polly, could not be brought near enough to a
buffalo to be used as a hunter. Now and then Jack and I went afoot down
to the slough to kill some ducks or geese. Our shepherd dog Found was
a good retriever, and when we went gunning for water-fowl we generally
took him along to bring ashore any birds killed on the water.
"I want to remind you men," said Tom one day, "that this fine weather
we've been having can't, in the nature of things, last much longer.
We're liable to have a cold rain, turning to a sleet or snow-storm, or
maybe a regular old blizzard swooping down on us now soon, an' we must
be prepared for it. Our camp's in pretty good shape, but we haven't
fitted ourselves out with fur caps an' mittens an' other fixings to
enable us to stand the winds of winter. I propose that we put in our
spare time for the next few days a-dressing some hides, an' then
a-cutting out and making us a good fur cap an' pair of mittens apiece,
an' something in the way of buffalo overshoes, too, to slip on over our
boots, an' a wolfskin overcoat apiece.
"Now, the first thing to do is to select the hides to be used an' flesh
'em, an' then get out that package of alum that we brought along to
tan 'em with an' go to dressing 'em. Those little yellow fox skins
ain't worth much to sell, but they will be just the things for caps an'
mittens. I've got an old buffalo robe that we can cut up for overshoes
an' put rawhide soles to 'em. As for myself, I've been thinking that
the next time I go over to the fort I'll see if I can find enough
dressed buffalo calfskins in Weisselbaum's stock--it'll only take about
six or eight--to make me an overcoat; for a buffalo calfskin overcoat
is a mighty serviceable garment for winter wear."
"You're right, they are," said Jack, "but I guess me an' Peck'll have
to put up with a coyote coat apiece for knockin' around here this
winter, and when we get back to Leavenworth we'll have a stylish
overcoat of beaver skins put up for next winter. What do you say, Peck?"
"I'm favorable," I replied, "but, as this is a partnership business, of
course we'll have to pay Tom for his interest in the beaver skins."
"Well," said the old man, "I'll balance the account with you this way.
I'll make it a stand-off, if I get otter skins enough, by having me a
fancy overcoat made of them."
The caps, mittens, overshoes, and coats were duly made and gave us much
comfort during the storms of winter.
Game continued plenty. We often killed antelope within a few rods of
our dugout and sometimes had to turn out in the night and help the dog
drive a herd of buffalo out of camp.