A CLOSE CALL
A few moments afterward White Otter and his companions rode away on
their hazardous mission. Running Dog had told them that the rival war
parties were a considerable distance beyond the ridge, and the Sioux
hoped to come in sight of them without being discovered. White Otter
turned directly toward the south, as he believed that there was less
chance of encountering hostile scouts in that direction. He rode a
considerable distance before he finally turned toward the west, and
approached the ridge.
"The Crows have passed this place--the Blackfeet came the other
way--they will not pass the Crows--the Crows will not come back
here--this is a good place--we will stay here and watch," White Otter
told his companions.
"It is good," agreed Lean Wolf, the famous Minneconjoux scout.
They approached the ridge with great caution. The sun had already set,
but they knew the long summer twilight would give them ample time to
discover their foes. As they finally came within bow range of the grassy
slope, they stopped and spent many moments watching for signs of lurking
foes. Then they suddenly heard the sounds of battle.
"The Crows and the Blackfeet are fighting--it is good," White Otter
declared, grimly.
Then, while Little Raven remained with the ponies, White Otter and Lean
Wolf crawled slowly up the ridge. When they reached the top they parted
the long grass and looked anxiously across the plain. The Crows and the
Blackfeet were preparing to fight. They were a long distance from the
ridge, however, and the Sioux felt in little danger. They watched with
keen interest while their foes began the preliminaries of battle. The
experienced Sioux scouts read the situation at a glance. It was evident
that the Crows had been overtaken and brought to a stand by the
Blackfeet war party. The Crows had dismounted and taken shelter behind
their ponies, and the Blackfeet were riding about them in a great
circle, but keeping safely beyond bow range. There was much yelling and
singing of war songs, but no real attempt at actual fighting.
"The Blackfeet are cautious," White Otter said, scornfully. "They are
making a great noise, but I do not see them killing any Crows. If they
rushed in there and frightened those ponies the Crows would have a hard
time of it."
"It is true," agreed Lean Wolf.
The Crows, however, appeared to be considerably stronger in numbers, and
it was apparent that the Blackfeet were cautious about beginning the
attack. The Sioux were surprised at the small size of the Blackfeet war
party. They had expected to see a much larger force of those savage foes
engaged against the Crows.
"I do not see many Blackfeet--it is bad," said White Otter. "They have
left many warriors to guard the camp."
When Running Dog brought word of the impending battle, the Sioux had
hoped that the Blackfeet would send a sufficient force against the Crows
to weaken the defense of the Blackfeet camp considerably. White Otter
realized, however, that the hope was false. It was evident that the
crafty Blackfeet had left most of their fighting men at the village.
"Perhaps they are waiting for our people to come for those ponies," said
Lean Wolf.
"Yes, I believe it is true," agreed White Otter.
He had barely ceased speaking when the Blackfeet suddenly began their
attack. Whooping fiercely, they rushed upon their foes and made
desperate attempts to frighten and stampede the Crow ponies. The Crows,
however, had prepared for just such a maneuver, and the alarmed ponies
were unable to break away. In the meantime the Crows sent a deadly
volley of arrows against the Blackfeet, and the latter recoiled before
the fierceness of the defense. A number of warriors had already toppled
from their ponies, and it was evident that the loss somewhat discouraged
their comrades. For a moment they wavered, and then a reckless war
leader on a pinto pony rallied them and led them against their foes.
They rode close up to the Crows, and fought with great bravery. The
Crows, however, had the double advantage of numbers and shelter, and the
Blackfeet soon realized that they were fighting a losing fight. The
fearless war leader had already forfeited his life to his gallantry, and
a number of his followers were either killed or wounded. In return, the
Blackfeet had done little harm to the Crows, except for killing a few
ponies, and wounding one reckless young Crow who had rushed from behind
his horse to attack them. Thoroughly disheartened, they became
demoralized and raced away in bad disorder.
"See, see, the fierce Blackfeet are running like rabbits!" laughed White
Otter.
"The Crows are too strong for them," declared Lean Wolf.
Encouraged by their success, many of the Crows leaped upon their ponies
and set out after the fleeing Blackfeet. The maneuver threw the
Blackfeet into a rage. They immediately wheeled about and raced back to
meet their pursuers. Their boldness confused the Crows, and before they
had recovered from their surprise the Blackfeet were upon them. As less
than half of the Crow force had joined in the pursuit, the advantage had
suddenly turned to the Blackfeet. Smarting with the humiliation of their
recent repulse, the Blackfeet determined to take full vengeance upon the
misguided company of Crows who had blundered into their power.
"They have fooled the Crows," White Otter cried, excitedly. "They will
wipe out that war party before their friends can come to help them."
"The Blackfeet are sharp," laughed Lean Wolf.
The Sioux suddenly realized that the wild flight of the Blackfeet had
been a clever bit of stratagem to deceive their foes. It was apparent
that the trick had been entirely successful, as the Blackfeet seemed to
have the Crows entirely at their mercy.
"See, those poor Crows are calling their brothers to help them," White
Otter told Lean Wolf.
Finding themselves completely overwhelmed by the ferocity and strength
of their crafty foes, the Crows were thrown into a panic. They had lost
all sense of order and discipline, and each man was fighting for
himself. Their one idea appeared to be to escape from the relentless
Blackfeet, who seemed determined to annihilate them. Aware that they
were facing destruction, the Crows were making frantic appeals to their
comrades to come to their assistance. The latter abandoned the pack
ponies and the hard-earned supply of meat and rode wildly across the
plain to assist their tribesmen.
"Now we will see a big fight," White Otter cried, enthusiastically.
"Yes, yes," agreed Lean Wolf, as his eyes flashed with excitement.
The Crows who had come to the aid of their tribesmen fought with great
courage, but the Blackfeet were thoroughly aroused and they seemed
invincible. The Sioux were amazed at the bravery and skill displayed by
those hardy warriors from the north. Having duped their foes and gained
the advantage, they appeared determined to follow it through to a
complete victory.
Although the Crows still outnumbered them, the Blackfeet pressed the
attack with a reckless ferocity that completely demoralized their foes.
Time after time the Crows tried to rally from their confusion, but each
attempt was the signal for a still fiercer assault by the Blackfeet.
"Hi, the Blackfeet know how to fight!" White Otter whispered, tensely.
The fighting was at close range, and many riderless ponies gave evidence
of the result. The Sioux witnessed many deeds of heroism. They saw a
wounded Crow warrior on a white pony ride recklessly at three of his
enemies, and overcome all three of them before a company of Blackfeet
finally killed him. They saw a Blackfoot dash among a company of
astounded Crows and rescue his comrade who had been desperately wounded.
They saw many thrilling hand-to-hand encounters which were fought to the
death. They saw dismounted warriors running boldly into the thick of the
fight in the hope of killing an enemy and securing his horse. Most of
them were killed. A few achieved the exploit, and galloped from the
encounter in triumph.
Then as the light began to fade from the plain the Crows made a final,
heroic effort, and broke through the circle of foes. They raced directly
toward the spot where the Sioux were watching, and behind them thundered
the Blackfeet.
"Run to the ponies!" cried White Otter, as he realized the peril which
threatened them.
They scrambled wildly down the ridge and called to Little Raven to bring
the ponies. He had already guessed that something was wrong, and he lost
little time in joining them.
"The Crows and the Blackfeet are almost here!" White Otter told him, as
he sprang upon the piebald.
As the plain offered no hiding place in the vicinity of the ridge, White
Otter realized that their only chance of escape lay in open flight. He
also knew that to turn toward the north would arouse the suspicions of
the crafty Blackfeet. He raced away toward the east.
"Keep low on your ponies, and perhaps our enemies will not know who we
are," he advised his companions.
Crouching low upon the necks of their ponies, the Sioux rode furiously
to gain a safe lead upon their foes. Night was almost at hand, and the
dusky twilight shadows made it difficult for their enemies to identify
them. When the Crows finally dashed recklessly over the top of the
ridge the Dacotahs were many arrow flights away. At sight of the three
racing ponies, however, the Crows apparently became suspicious, and
fearful of being led into another trap. They immediately swerved from
their course, and rode toward the north.
"That is bad," cried White Otter, who had been risking his neck to
glance back at his foes. "If they go that way they may find our people."
"I believe our friends will be watching sharp," Lean Wolf assured him.
Then they heard the wild, ringing whoops of the Blackfeet, and White
Otter again turned his head to look back. The heavy shadows had almost
wiped out the ridge, and it was difficult to see the company of riders
who were racing recklessly down the steep grassy slope. He made them
out, however, and was relieved to see them turn sharply and follow the
Crows. The latter had entirely faded from sight in the dusk.
"The Blackfeet did not see us," White Otter told his companions. "See,
it is almost dark! We will ride slower."
They could barely see an arrow flight before them, and they believed
there was slight probability of being seen. In fact they had high hopes
that the Blackfeet had entirely failed to notice them. Feeling quite
safe, therefore, they reined in the ponies and rode at a slow canter.
They heard the Blackfeet yelling savagely farther toward the north and
had little doubt that they were still pursuing the demoralized Crows.
"They are making a great noise--it is good," declared Lean Wolf. "Our
people will hear them."
"Yes, it is----" began White Otter.
"Listen!" interrupted Little Raven.
They heard the sound of galloping ponies directly ahead of them, and
they barely had time to turn aside before the unknown riders passed them
in the darkness. Then the nervous little piebald whinnied, and the
strangers instantly stopped.
"Come!" cried White Otter, as he turned toward the north, and raced away
at top speed.
"I believe those riders are the Blackfeet scouts that Feather Dog told
us about," said Lean Wolf. "Little Raven, your ears are as sharp as the
ears of Tokala, the fox."
They rode some distance before they finally stopped to listen for sounds
from their foes. Night had fallen, and the great plain was cloaked in
darkness. For a long time the stillness was unbroken. It seemed as if
the Blackfeet had at last yelled themselves into silence. The Sioux
wondered if the Crows had escaped.
"I do not believe the Blackfeet came up with them," Lean Wolf said,
softly. "When it got dark I believe the Blackfeet turned back to round
up those ponies that the Crows left behind."
"Then we must watch sharp," declared White Otter. "Perhaps they will
ride over here and find us."
Then they heard the wail of a prairie wolf a short distance to the
westward. There was something about it that made them suspicious. As a
precaution against being betrayed to prowling foes, White Otter
dismounted and seized the nose of the little piebald. The other ponies
also showed signs of nervousness, and their riders quickly followed the
example of the cautious Ogalala. Then the three anxious Sioux scouts
stood beside their ponies and strained their ears to catch a warning of
danger. Three times the dreary call of the prairie wolf sounded from the
west, and each time the suspicions of the Sioux grew stronger. They felt
almost certain that it was a signal from their enemies.
"That does not sound like Mayash, the prowler," White Otter declared
suspiciously.
"It is different," agreed Lean Wolf.
At that moment they heard the cry repeated in the north. They knew at
once that it was an answer to the signal from the west. It was evident
that foes were on two sides of them, and the Sioux realized that they
were in a serious predicament.
"It is bad," whispered White Otter. "I believe Blackfeet scouts are out
there in the darkness. They are close. We must watch out."
"Do you believe they know us?" Little Raven inquired, anxiously.
"No," White Otter told him. "Lean Wolf, how do you feel about it?"
"I believe it is the Blackfeet," said Lean Wolf. "We must wait here
until we see what they are going to do. If we hear them coming here then
we will ride away before they find us."
"It is the best thing to do," White Otter told him.
They listened anxiously to learn if their foes were actually
approaching. They heard nothing to give them a clew. The signals had
ceased, and the calm, brooding night hush had fallen upon the plain. The
ponies, however, were still uneasy, and their actions made the Sioux
suspicious. They feared that other horses were close at hand, and the
possibility kept them alert.
"Listen, my brothers," White Otter whispered, anxiously. "Something is
moving over there."
The sound had come from the westward, and whatever had made it seemed to
be well within bowshot. The piebald was shaking its head, and struggling
to free its nose from the grasp of the Ogalala. The other ponies also
showed signs of recognition, and the Sioux felt sure that a horse was
moving slowly through the darkness. They listened with bated breath,
ready to jump upon their ponies and flee into the protection of the
night at the first hint that they had been discovered. They waited in
trying suspense while the rider slowly passed them, and the short, quick
footfalls of his pony died away in the distance.
"He has gone," whispered Little Raven.
"Sh!" cautioned Lean Wolf.
Another pony was approaching. Again the Sioux waited in breathless
suspense, while the unseen rider moved cautiously through the darkness
within bow range of them. This time, however, they were not so
fortunate. For some reason the rider stopped directly opposite them. Was
he suspicious? the Sioux wondered. The piebald tried to call, but White
Otter strangled the cry in its throat. Then the strange horse winded the
Sioux ponies, and whinnied its challenge. The next moment a voice
questioned cautiously from the night. The Sioux remained silent. Each
stood grasping the mane of his pony, ready to mount and race away on the
instant of discovery. Then the horse which had already passed answered
the challenge, and the suspicions of the second rider were allayed. A
moment later the Sioux heard him riding on his way. They remained
silent, however, listening anxiously to learn if a third rider was
following after those who had passed.
"There are no more," Lean Wolf whispered, finally.
"It is good," replied White Otter.
They waited until they felt sure that their enemies had gone beyond
hearing, and then they mounted and rode carefully toward the east. As
the mysterious scouts had gone toward the north, the Sioux determined to
make a wide detour to avoid an encounter. They walked the ponies until
they had gone a safe distance, and then they urged them into a brisk
canter, and began to circle back toward the north to reach the
Minneconjoux war party.