SATANK ARRIVES
Early March found us closing up our affairs at the camp, preparatory to
starting back to the settlements. We had succeeded in taking a few more
than our three thousand wolfskins; and in addition to these we would
have nearly a wagonful of bales of the dressed buffalo robes and other
skins we had traded for with To hausen's people, together with the
beaver, otter, antelope, and other pelts we had taken in our camp.
We had hauled all our baled wolfskins over to Fort Larned and stored
them there as fast as they accumulated, but retained in camp for the
last load our otter and beaver skins and the peltries we had gotten
from the Indians; for we thought it best not to bring these latter
under the notice of Weisselbaum, for fear he should make trouble for us
for encroaching on his Indian trade.
As a prospective buyer he had kept close watch of our wolfskins, as
we stored them, and was anxious to buy our whole catch; but we had
stood him off, saying that we thought we could do better with them in
Leavenworth. We had heard that Kitchen's freighting train from New
Mexico was on the road, going in empty, and would pass Fort Larned in
a few days, and had decided that if we could not get Weisselbaum up to
our figures, we would ship them in that way.
After an early dinner, Tom and Jack had started for the fort with the
mule team, taking a partial load of the last of our wolfskins--a half
dozen bales--and some camp plunder.
I do not think that my comrades were as much alarmed as I was at the
thought of the hostiles dropping in on us. They seemed to be borrowing
no trouble on that account and, for fear of being ridiculed by them for
my cowardly fears, I had kept my thoughts on this subject to myself.
On this day we had all seemed unusually jolly; even Tom's grim features
occasionally relaxed into a pleasant smile at some sally from our wild
Irishman. Our spirits were high, for we had grown tired of buffalo
hunting and wolf skinning, with all the attendant hardships and
excitements, and were now eager to get back into "God's country" with
our profitable cargo of skins, to reap the reward of our winter's hard
work.
As I stood looking after Tom and Jack as they drove away, I thought:
"To-morrow they'll be back, and the next morning we'll load up the last
of our camp outfit and will soon be beyond the reach of Satank and his
crowd."
While still standing on top of our dugout watching the receding wagon
a growl from Found, at my feet, caused me to look down at him; and
following the direction of his look, down the ravine toward the timber,
I saw an Indian boy afoot stealthily approaching, every now and then
casting furtive glances behind him as though fearful that he might be
seen by some one in the timber. I at once recognized the boy as one of
To hausen's sons and, quieting the dog, awaited his approach. Following
a path skirting the edge of the water in the ravine, when he had
reached the platform between our dugouts, he again looked cautiously
about and beckoned me to come down where he stood.
When I neared him he said in his broken English:
"To hausen, my fadder, he say tell you, 'look out! Satank comin'!'"
And then asked, looking anxiously into my face:
"You savvy?"
"Yes, but where? When?" I hastened to ask excitedly.
"Kin savvy señor," replied the boy, "that all To hausen, he say, that
all; 'look out, Satank comin'!' Pretty _pronto_, I 'speck. Now I mus'
vamose. Satank he see me here, he kill me."
And quickly turning he sneaked down the ravine till he reached the
brush and disappeared.
To say that I was alarmed at the sudden shock to my recent feeling of
confidence is to put it mildly; but I realized that there was no time
to waste in idle regrets at the unfortunate turn of affairs. I felt
almost helpless and could not decide what to do to prepare for the
danger.
Rushing into the dugout I seized my carbine and, going again up onto
the dirt roof, I fired several shots in the hope that possibly the
sound might reach my companions, who were still in sight, slowly
climbing the hill about two miles away. It was no use--the wind was
blowing from them to me, and they moved steadily on, evidently not
hearing me.
I was hesitating whether to jump on Prince, ride after them and hurry
them back to prepare for a probable call from the hostiles when a surly
growl and bark from Found drew my attention another way, and I was
almost frightened out of my wits to see two mounted Indians coming, one
behind the other in single file, along the trail leading from the ford
below the beaver dam.
They were on the opposite side of the ravine--the stable side--so I
moved down onto the platform between the dugouts, where I would have a
better position, still hoping that they would turn out to be some of To
hausen's people; but a thrill of something akin to horror ran through
me on looking closely at the foremost Indian when he had reached the
top of the bank a few feet from me, for I recognized the sinister
countenance of Satank.
To let him know that I recognized him and understood his probable
feelings toward me, I swung my carbine into a threatening position and
called out, "Halt!" at the same time making the sign to him to stop
where he was.
He halted at the command, as did the other Indian in the rear, and,
while keeping a close watch on both to see that they drew no gun on me,
I demanded in a defiant tone:
"Halloo, Satank, what do you want here?"
Satank made no reply, but motioned his companion to his side.
I recognized the man as a half-breed, called Mexican Joe, who had
sometimes been used as an interpreter at Fort Wise. Joe was evidently
to act as interpreter now.
In my defiant attitude and speech I was assuming much more
self-confidence than I really felt; but I wished to impress them that I
distrusted them, understood their intentions, and was prepared to stand
them off or fight. However, neither of the savages made any threatening
movement--the time was not ripe for declaring war--they had evidently
come on a reconnoitring expedition.
As soon as the interpreter had moved up to him Satank spoke a few words
to Mexican Joe, who asked in broken English:
"Where your pardners? Other mans? Where wagon?"
"Gone down to To hausen's camp," I said.
"He say, 'Maybe so you lie,'" said Joe, making the sign of the forked
tongue; then continued, "Any mans in casa--house?" nodding toward the
dugout.
"Yes," I replied.
Apparently wishing to see the inside of our house--or to get the drop
on me in some way--after a few more words between them, Joe said:
"He say: 'White man come to Kiowa's camp Kiowa feed him. Satank he
hungry. Want to go in casa, eat with white man--be good amigos.'"
I replied:
"Food all gone. Pardners gone with wagon to bring some buffalo meat.
Tell him to come again when pardners get back. I'll give him plenty to
eat."
Of course, Satank did not believe this, and I did not care. I wished
to stand him off, for I was determined that he should get no closer
inspection of our situation than he already had. I felt sure that he
had a party of his warriors close about--probably in hiding in the
timber--and that he had come on a spying tour.
Satank evidently recognized me as one of the actors in an episode that
took place at Fort Wise when I was in the service, and asked a number
of questions about it. To all these I replied by denying any knowledge
of the event. The interpreter said, however:
"He say: 'You can't fool him. He know you.'"
I was in dread all the time that they might lift their eyes to the
upland prairie in the direction of Fort Larned, where our white-covered
wagon was still in plain view; but a little swell of the prairie hid it
from them.
After exchanging a few more words in their own language, Joe turned to
me and said:
"Adios, good-by, señor. We go--vamose."
Backing away a few steps, they turned off around the butt of our
haystack, and made for the crossing of the ravine just above our
dugouts. Here they examined the ground closely, evidently looking for
fresh tracks of our wagon and mules to see which way they had gone.
As soon as they crossed the ravine I returned to my station on the
dirt roof of our dugout where I could watch their movements. When they
reached the higher ground and our Fort Larned trail the fresh tracks of
the team gave them their clew. Pointing to the fresh signs, Satank's
eyes followed the course of the trail until he caught sight of the
wagon in the distance, just as it seemed to reach the crest of the high
prairie about three miles away. With an excited exclamation he pointed
out his discovery to his companion, and then mounting rode off at a
lively gait.
I conjectured that Satank would either pursue the wagon or bring his
men to attack my position--probably both. In either case it was of
the utmost importance that I warn my comrades, which now seemed an
impossibility; and while fretting at my helplessness I looked down at
Found, at my feet, and the inspiration came.
"Good!" I shouted, "I'll send the dog!"
Rushing down into the cabin I seized a piece of paper and hastily wrote
on it:
_Look out for Satank and his gang! They are after you! I am O. K.,
so far._
PECK.
Quickly tying this slip to Found's collar and taking down an old cap of
Tom's from which to give the dog the scent, I hurried back on top of
the dugout. I spoke to the dog and then pointed to the covered wagon,
still plainly visible, and for fear he did not see it I lifted him up
in my arms, pointed again to the far-off wagon, repeating the names,
"Tom--Jack!"
The intelligent creature looked up into my face, as I set him down, and
then at the wagon, barked and wagged his tail vigorously as though he
thought he understood me. I then pointed again to the wagon, held Tom's
old cap to his nose, and said, "_Go to Tom_," motioning with my hand
toward the wagon.
Found looked carefully all around, as though to see if there were any
Indians about, and then instead of following the wagon tracks, as I
supposed he would, he started down into the bottom of the ravine, the
head of which led toward the wagon; and after going a few rods,
stopped and looked inquiringly back at me, as if to ask: "Am I right?"
[Illustration: "Go to Tom."]
"Yes, yes," I answered impatiently as I motioned him away, "go to Tom!
go to Tom!"
The dog seemed now fully to comprehend my wishes, and lit out up the
ravine on a lively run, now and then disappearing from my view for a
moment in the sinuosities of the gulch.
I turned to go down into the cabin to get the field-glass, the better
to watch the progress of the dog, and in doing so I instinctively cast
my glance in the direction of the point of timber where Satank and Joe
had entered a few moments before, and there saw a party of mounted
Indians hurrying out of the woods and starting across the prairie after
the team.
The Kiowas were about as near the wagon as Found, and it seemed that
it would be a close race between the dog and Indians as to which would
reach the team first. With the field-glass I watched the advance of
Indians and dog with excited anxiety. The pursuers and my messenger had
entered broken ground between the creek valley and the upland, and I
could catch only occasional glimpses of them. To get a better view I
climbed up on the derrick, where we usually hung our fresh meat, which
gave me a few feet more of elevation. I tried to count the Indians as
they started in pursuit of the wagon and made out that they numbered
about forty.
I had watched first Found and then the Kiowas through the glass until
the dog had proceeded so far that he had passed out of sight on the
upland, still running; and the Indians could only be seen at intervals;
but I could not tell which was nearer the wagon. The Indians were
approaching it from the right and rear, while Found would be coming
from nearly behind. Tom and Jack, I knew, would be sitting on the seat
in the wagon, under cover of the sheet, unsuspicious of danger; the
rattling of the wagon would drown any noise of the galloping Indians;
and their first intimation of the presence of the Kiowas--unless Found
reached them in time--would be a volley of bullets and arrows as the
redskins surrounded them.
I focused my glass steadily on the white wagon cover, knowing that
the halting or turning of the team would indicate that my messenger
or the pursuers had reached them. If Found got there first the team
would stop; Tom and Jack would discover the Indians and then quickly
jump out, unhook the mules and tie them to the wheels of the wagon; and
then I would hear the reports of their rifles first. If the Indians got
there first and surprised my comrades I would probably hear the reports
of the Kiowas' rifles before the wagon stopped, and the frightened
mules would then start on a run.
Riveting my gaze on the wagon, I was presently gratified to notice it
halt, and a moment later the two familiar reports of Sharp's carbines
assured me that they, Tom and Jack, had got my warning and had fired
the first shots.
"Good!" I shouted when I heard their rifles. "Ten to one an Indian
saddle or two was emptied by those shots!"
Then a straggling rattle of firearms, with now and then the report of
a Sharp's, indicated that the fight was on. The bobbing up and down of
the heads of galloping Indians passing between me and the wagon showed
that the redskins were circling around the team; and as they passed
to right and left of the wagon they seemed to be keeping a respectful
distance.
The firing slackened. Just then some mounted men and animals
came running in my direction, and as they came near enough to be
distinguishable through the glass I made out that the two team mules
had gotten away from Tom and Jack, after being unhitched from the
wagon, and were now making for camp, chased by a number of Kiowas. The
Indians soon caught the mules and led them back.
The firing had now nearly ceased. Of the wagon I could only see the
white cover. The Indians seemed to have formed a circle around my
comrades and were probably waiting for night to enable them to crawl up
near enough to make their rifles effective. This they could do in the
darkness, and by digging rifle-pits at close range around the wagon
they would have Tom and Jack under a circle of rifle fire by daylight.