The winter draws to an end――A keen look-out――Signs――The break-up of the
rivers――An ice block――The enemy approaches――A noiseless arrow――The ice
still fast――The ice-floes――The war-cry of assault――A parley――We embark
on the rafts――The hut in flames――On shore again――Freedom――Winter gone.
The end of the long winter was drawing nigh: the snow yet lay on plain
and forest, the ice held dominion as firm as ever over lake and river,
the frost at night was still severe; nevertheless, there were many
signs of approaching spring. The knolls and edges facing the mid-day
sun had become bare of snow; the air, during the hour of noon, felt
warm and balmy; the surface of the snow became soft under the sun; and
there was in the atmosphere an indescribable sense of freshness, that
presaged the near retreat into more northern realms of the grim winter
king who had so long ruled with iron grasp the subject land.
As the first symptom of the enemy’s approach might now be looked for in
the neighbourhood, it became necessary to adopt all precautions against
surprise, and to get the horses under the protection of the hut.
There remained from last summer a total of five horses, two having been
lost after the prairie expedition in the end of November. The five were
now driven in from their wintering ground; they were found to be in
excellent condition after their three-and-a-half months in the snow;
two of them were, however, of little value, and it was decided that
it would be better to sacrifice these at once――not only because their
ultimate fate was sealed, but also because the means of keeping the
remainder in food were extremely limited, no supply of hay having been
stored in the previous autumn.
The roof of the hut held, however, a large stock of the long reedy
grass that horses love so well to feed upon, and the thick covering of
snow which, during the entire winter had overlaid this thatch had kept
the grass clean and succulent. One side of the roof was now divested
gradually of its covering, and enough of provender was obtained to keep
the three horses alive during the few remaining days they had to wait.
We had already erected a small stockade, which covered the approach to
the rafts, in case an attempt should be made to rush the place.
It was the habit of Red Cloud to spend many hours of the day in
reconnoitring the line by which alone it was possible for any hostile
party to approach the hut. The time had now arrived when signs of
scouts must be evident if the expected attack was to take place. The
ice had begun to loosen in the rivers, and the snows were vanishing
quickly from the face of the prairies.
About the fourth day after the Sioux had begun to reconnoitre, the
Iroquois started out to examine the country along the North river.
Keeping the low ground between ridge and river, he watched intently the
drifts and open spaces by which a scout would have been likely to pass.
At a spot lying about a mile from the Forks, he came upon a footprint
that had not, he thought, been made by any denizen of the hut. He
brought the Sioux to the place, and a comparison of the snow-shoes of
the party with that of the impression in the snow, showed the surmise
to be correct. There had been strange Indians lurking about.
[Illustration: Strange footprints.]
But the Sioux was now quite prepared for any movement of his enemies.
The ice still held in the rivers, but each hour gave increasing
symptoms of its disruption; great seams and rents had opened in it;
in the central portion channels of open water were to be seen, where
the current ran with immense velocity, escaping for a moment from
the superincumbent weight of ice, and again vanishing beneath it.
The ravines that seamed the plain were daily pouring down streams of
water to swell the volume of the river, causing the ice to rise, and
producing the rents and chasms already spoken of.
At last the change occurred. It was night-time. A great tremor seemed
to vibrate along the entire surface; water sprang in innumerable places
through the fissures; great blocks of ice reared up and fell crashing
upon their fellows, and the mighty mass began slowly to move.
When daylight came a whirling volume of crashing ice-floe was seen, and
the rapidly rising river told the story of a complete break-up along
the entire channels.
The rafts held well to their moorings. A few hours more must settle the
question of escape. The river had now risen to a height of seven or
eight feet above its frozen surface, and soon it must begin to subside;
then the larger ice would rapidly disappear. Red Cloud watched the
water-mark; so long as the floes kept drifting, the water was rising,
or stationary; when the floes would show stranded along the shores,
then the time of subsidence had come.
At last the tide turned and the river began to fall. The ice in the
little bay had been rent and broken, and the water rising, from
beneath, had submerged it; the rafts were half floating.
And now began the work of loading stores: saddles, food, guns,
blankets, kettles, and sundries, were ranged in carefully prepared lots
upon the raft destined for them, and in an hour’s time everything was
ready for departure――everything save the river; another block had taken
place in the ice below the junction, and the pent waters were again
beginning to rise.
Mid-day came, and yet the block continued; fortunately the rising water
had ample room to spread itself over the low-lying grounds along the
rivers, and the rise was not sudden. Still the danger of some huge
block of ice being forced upon the rafts was considerable, and it was
necessary to watch narrowly the rising tide, and to stand by the rafts,
with poles ready, to keep them afloat in case of a rapid subsidence
setting in.
The evening was drawing near. All day the Iroquois had watched the
plain at the top of the point, from the screen of forest that fringed
its edge. The Sioux and I had spent the time between this advanced post
and the scene at the rafts, and the scout had stood ready with rifle
and pole. Donogh and the Cree had charge of the horses. Dry grass and
wood shavings had been piled inside the now empty hut, ready for the
match; but still the scene remained unchanged――no enemy appeared; the
river was yet blocked.
All at once there came a low signal-call from the Iroquois upon the
ridge. Red Cloud and I rapidly ascended to the look-out point. The
Iroquois had seen a strange figure emerge from a thicket half-a-mile
distant, and disappear over the edge of the ridge. Then half-a-dozen
others followed, one by one, and glided over the edge. The sight had
been for an instant only; but it was enough――the enemy was at hand.
Leaving the Iroquois at his post, Red Cloud and I turned off along the
slope of the ridge, on the side towards which the figures had been seen
to disappear. About one hundred yards from the hut, a landslip on the
steep bank had carried away all trees and brushwood, leaving the sandy
sloping bank quite bare of cover. This open space of fifty yards across
had already been marked by us as a _glacis_ over which an advancing
enemy must expose himself to view. On the edge of this open, we now
awaited the further approach of our enemies. It was in fact the only
vulnerable side; the rivers protecting the point upon two sides, while
the rest of the angle was completely commanded by the look-out ridge.
Keeping now well within cover, we silently watched the open landslip.
The Sioux carried his double-barrelled rifle, his short bow, and a
quiverful of arrows.
“They make no noise,” he whispered to me, “and at this distance are
better than bullets.”
It was now sunset: there was still about half an hour of good light.
Would the hostile party await darkness, or make its advance without
further delay?
“Had they meant to attack after dark,” said the Sioux, “they would not
have shown in the open. They will come on at once.”
He had scarcely whispered this to me, when from the brushwood on the
opposite side of the slip appeared the dark figure of an Indian. He
was quickly followed by others. They came full into the open, heading
directly across for the spot where we stood; they thus presented only a
single file to us. Ere the leading figure had gained a quarter of the
way, a noiseless arrow sped from the bow of the Sioux. The aim was a
true one! The shaft struck the leader in the shoulder, and brought the
whole party to a halt.
At forty yards the arrows from a practised hand will follow each
other in rapid succession. Scarcely had the first arrow struck, ere
another was winging its way, narrowly grazing the now startled band.
Instinctively the entire party fell back upon the cover which they had
just quitted, and ere they had gained its shelter another shaft found
its billet amongst their rearmost ranks.
“Go quickly to the rafts,” whispered Red Cloud to me; “see if the river
runs. I shall remain here; the enemy will not attempt to cross the open
again for some time. When it is quite dark I will fall back upon the
hut, and before morning the channel must be clear.”
The war party of Sircies made no further attempt to cross the open.
They formed, in fact, only an advanced party of the main war-trail,
and they decided to wait the arrival of the entire force before making
any onward move. They had hoped to surprise us; but we were fully upon
the alert, and neither the hour nor the strange silent method of our
defence induced them to advance.
The river still remained fast. Darkness came on. We were now within
the hut. The hostile Indians had as yet made no further sign of their
proximity; but any moment might find them full upon the place, and
all depended upon their method of attack. If they decided to make an
assault in force upon the defences, their numbers must prevail; but as
they were in ignorance of the existence of the rafts, and looked upon
the ultimate capture of the little party at the hut as a certainty,
there was every reason to suppose that they would not press an assault
upon what in time, they deemed, must be their own.
Slowly the night wore on. Towards midnight the river showed symptoms
of subsiding; the water slowly ebbed along the edge of the little bay,
and the ice began to strand upon the shore; but the subsidence was so
gradual that it was impossible to say whether it really meant a final
break in the barrier below. About three hours before daylight, however,
the decrease in the water-level grew more rapid; not only did the shore
give its symptoms, but the central portions of the streams were heard
in movement. At first slowly the downward motion began, then faster and
faster it became, until soon, in many a wild whirling eddy, the vast
mass of broken ice poured along.
The river had fully broken up, and the time of escape was at hand.
Just at this moment there sounded from the high ridge above a wild and
well-known cry. It was the war-whoop of the Sircies.
The hills at the opposite side caught up the sound, and sent it ringing
back in answering echoes. It was the signal for assault upon the hut.
The main body of the war party had in fact arrived upon the scene, and
there no longer existed any reason for delaying the attack. The cry was
rapidly followed by a ringing volley from the brushwood at the farther
side of the stockade. The bullets struck right and left among the
trees, but did no damage to any of our little party. As yet we made no
sign by voice or weapon of our existence. Screened behind the stockade,
the Sioux and the Iroquois watched with eagle eyes the open space
around the hut. The Cree stood by the horses, Donogh and I watched the
raft.
Another volley came crashing around the hut, but still no response was
made; no shot sounded from the stockade.
The first silent flight of arrows had made the Sircies careful in
their advance, and now not a brave ventured to show himself outside
the sheltering screen of wood. While thus the enemy contented himself
with firing at random into the surrounding trees, the river continued
to pour down its flood of ice-floes, and to decrease in level; but the
difficulties of withdrawing from the position in front of a watchful
foe during daylight were so great that the Sioux determined to
abandon the stockade before day had set in, and to attempt the work of
embarkation under cover of darkness.
In order to prevent the enemy from making an assault during the
last moments of night he now engaged in a pretended negotiation for
surrender with them. He began by inquiring the reason for this attack.
He reminded them that he had no quarrel with them, but that he was
fully prepared to resist to the utmost every attack, and to sell his
life as dearly as possible.
After a time a response came from the leader of the Sircies. It is easy
to find cause of quarrel when quarrels be once determined on. In this
respect the wild man is not a whit behind his more civilized brother;
so on the present occasion there was little difficulty in showing, to
the satisfaction at least of the Sircie braves, that there existed
ample reasons for the attack upon our hut at the Forks.
“Why was the hut there at all?” demanded the Sircie leader. “Was the
ground on which it stood Sioux ground? Was it Cree ground? And had not
the Sircies hunted over it for many generations?”
To these questions Red Cloud replied,――
“That he had come to winter there, believing the place to be neutral
territory; but that if the Sircies could prove to him their right
to it, he was willing to pay compensation for his occupancy; but,”
he continued, “this compensation must be the result of peaceful
negotiation and not evoked from him by war. He would meet peace with
peace, and he was equally ready to oppose war with war.”
These sentiments, expressed at much greater length than I have here
recorded, carried the waning hours of the night further towards the
day, darkness still blotted out the features of the landscape, but
the stars told us there was not much time to lose. Ere the harangues
were finished, the work of embarkation had begun and was being swiftly
proceeded with; the raft with the baggage was ready, save to take on
board its human freight, and the horses were to be led into the water
astern of the second raft at the moment it was to be shoved from the
shore, and allowed to swim after it in its descent of the stream.
A low whistle from the little bay now announced to the Sioux that all
was ready for the final move. He again expressed aloud to the enemy
his resolve to defend himself to the last, then falling back silently
and swiftly to the rafts he saw that all was ready; so far as we could
see, the river was now free of ice. Then the Sioux went back to the hut
again, struck a match, and threw it into the dry hay and shavings which
had been piled against the wooden walls. The blaze kindled rapidly, but
we had previously taken the precaution to close up the windows with
clay and pieces of skins so that no appearance of light could be seen
from without; leaving the hut, the Sioux closed the door carefully
behind him. In another moment he was with us at the raft. The word was
given to shove out from the little cove. As the first raft glided into
the current we unfastened the horses from the tree and stepped upon our
own raft; a word of encouragement, a tightening of the reins, and the
two horses followed us into the flood.
Then we pushed cautiously out; the current caught the raft and bent
its course down river. At first the horses as they began to lose their
footing showed many signs of fright, snorting and breathing fast; but
after a few seconds they seemed assured, by the low-spoken words of
encouragement as well as by the facility with which they swam.
And now, as the distance lengthened out between the point and our raft,
a change occurred in the scene. From out the dark grove of pines there
came a bright flame; at first it broke in fitful flashes from amid the
trees; but anon it cast a clear and steady light on trunk and branch.
Quickly it grew in strength; up through the motionless pines at last it
rose, a pyramid of flame, so bright and clear that no longer could even
the Sircies doubt its cause.
It was the hut in flames!
Struck with astonishment, and deeming the conflagration to be a ruse of
the Sioux for some further onslaught upon them, they still hesitated
what to do.
At last one or two, bolder than their comrades, pushed over the
open space and passed the stockade. All was silence save the sharp
crackling of the still rising flame. Then others followed; and at last
the whole band approached the point. The enemy was gone! No horse, no
gun remained; and as the fire poured forth through roof and door and
walls, the discomfited Sircies ran hither and thither, vainly seeking
for that prey whose capture, but a few moments before, they had counted
upon as assured.
Far down the river by this time we stood on the raft, spectators of
this strange scene. The leading raft, a few yards ahead, also held its
course undisturbed; and as now the towering flame shot up high above
the pine clump, and cast its reflection on the steep bordering ridges,
every point of which was so well known to us, I knelt upon the moving
raft, and thanked God for an escape from a terrible situation which but
a short time before had seemed hopeless enough.
Gamely the horses held their way down the river in the wake of the last
raft. Every now and again the Sioux spoke some well-known Indian word
to them. Both horses had been so fully accustomed to obey a single word
of command from their masters that the instinct had reached that stage
when it becomes the highest form of discipline――perfect obedience.
The rafts reached the end of the long river-reach that lay below the
Forks. Another minute, and the bend of the river would hide from our
eyes the last glimpse of flaming hut and surrounding hill. There was
a strong temptation on the part of some of the men on board the first
raft to fire back a parting salute of defiance and triumph; but it was
wiser to give the Sircies no token or trace of their flight. Doubtless
the daylight would reveal the track which we had taken, by showing the
footprints in the soft mud of the shore where the rafts had touched;
but by that time many miles would intervene between us and our foes,
and all chance of pursuit would be impossible for the present. So round
the curve the rafts ran swiftly, and then nothing was visible but the
river, showing grey under the sky, and the dark outline of the wooded
shores on either side.
After half an hour’s work, Red Cloud hailed the leading raft to carry
on until mid-day, and then to put in to the south side of the river;
to make camp by the shore, and to send the scout up to the high ground
where the more open country began, to watch for our approach by land.
The horses had had quite enough of the water. We would put to shore,
select a good landing-place, and leaving the raft, follow the upper
bank of the river for the remainder of the journey.
The two rafts now separated, and were finally lost to each other.
Cautiously drawing near the south side, the horses soon found their
feet upon a bank, which in the summer would have been dry ground. The
shore was but ten yards beyond; it shelved up in an easy ascent from
the water. We pushed in until the end of the raft grounded, then we
stepped into the water and led our dripping and tired horses on to dry
earth.
We had taken with us from the hut only saddles, arms, and ammunition,
and some pemmican, and tea, and axes; these were soon brought on shore,
then moving further into the wood, we made a fire. The horses stood
close to the flame, which soon dried their dripping flanks. Here we
passed half an hour; the morning air was very cold, and it was pleasant
to sit before the genial warmth of the fire. Often we spoke of the past
escape, and often our conversation wandered on to the future, with its
plans and outlooks.
As the daylight began to show objects distinctly we set out, leading
our horses by the bridles through the tangled maze of thicket, up the
steep ridge that rose directly from the river bank.
The summit gained, the course lay to the east, along the edge of woods
that here filled the space between the prairies and the water. But
now the horses carried their owners, and right glad were we to feel
ourselves once more in the saddle, free to steer where we pleased over
the open plains. Right glad too seemed the horses to find themselves on
firm ground.
The snow yet lingered in hollow places, but the prairie was clear and
dry. The grass of last year lay in yellow tufts around; the leafless
trees and bushes looked bright in the early sun; and the earth smelt
fresh and pure as it once more gave forth its odours to the air. The
long winter at last was gone.