Horses wanted――New plans――We start south――The prairie in Spring――No
buffalo in sight――Starvation――A last resort――Buffalo at last――We fall
in with Blood Indians――The camp――Tashota――A trade――Rumours of war――We
depart from the Blood camp.
Riding quietly along the edge of the open ground for many hours, we
drew in sight of the spot where the first raft had stopped at mid-day.
The camp had been made in the low ground near the river, and the
Iroquois was at his post on the upper level, alert and watchful.
By evening our little band was again united together, and a substantial
meal was laid out, at which we all joined, with appetites not the less
keen because of the exertions and anxieties of the past twenty-four
hours. A long council followed the meal.
It was necessary to decide upon a course which should embrace in its
plans the next six months of the summer season.
The latest acquisition to the strength of the party――the Iroquois――had
declared his wish to share the fortunes of our band for some months.
To this no one objected. Indeed, it might have been said that all owed
to him their safety. Had it not been for his timely warning, it was
impossible to say what fate might not have befallen us, unsuspicious as
we had been of attack or molestation.
We therefore numbered four on the raft, and two horsemen. Now in the
season which was beginning horses would be a necessity of life on the
plains; therefore the first and most pressing want was a horse for each
of the dismounted men.
Another necessity was the safe stowing away of the surplus goods which
we possessed. These could not be carried without seriously retarding
the freedom of movement across the prairie. It was therefore decided
that the stock should be placed in _cache_ some four days’ journey
further down the stream, and that at the point where they would be
stored the four men would wait in camp the arrival of the other two,
whose duty it would be to go in search of horses for the complete
equipment of the whole band.
After every man had in his possession a horse, then it would be time to
form plans for future action.
But it was one thing to say that each man should possess a horse, and
quite another thing to provide the required number. True, horses could
be obtained from many bands of Indians by barter; but to hit off the
whereabouts of a band on the open plains was no easy matter.
Out of many courses open to him the Sioux determined upon one. He would
start with me on the following morning, and directing his course due
south would seek for buffalo in the great prairie. Once with the herds,
he need have no further difficulty on the score of food. They might
then wander on as the buffalo moved, keeping the great herd in sight;
by this means they would be certain to fall in with Indians out upon
their spring hunting expeditions. From some of these bands horses could
readily be exchanged for some articles of arms, which we could easily
carry on the horses in addition to our own weapons.
So far went the plan.
It was computed that in three days we should fall in with buffalo, that
a week more might elapse ere Indians were met with, and that perhaps
a month might altogether intervene ere we would be back again at the
point agreed upon for the _cache_.
All these matters having been talked over and arranged, preparations
for the journey were next undertaken.
A couple of revolvers and an American repeating rifle, together with a
few other items――all of which had originally formed a portion of the
trader’s cargo――were taken from the raft and packed between the two
horses. Blankets, a kettle, two tin cups, two axes, extra flints and
steels, provisions to last four days――all the requisites, in fact, for
prairie travel――were packed in bundles easily attached to the saddles,
and everything made ready for a start at daybreak the following morning.
These preparations, together with the arrangements to be made by the
party at the _cache_, occupied the remainder of the afternoon, and soon
after dark we all lay down to sleep――the sleep to which our long-borne
exertions had so well entitled us.
The dawn of a very fair spring morning saw Red Cloud and myself on the
move; nor had its light long to shine ere the raft was bearing the
other four down the swift current of the Red Deer river.
From the edge of the ridge where wood and plain met, we looked back to
the river bank to catch a last glimpse of our friends. The raft was
well in the centre of the stream going merrily along. The keen eyes of
its occupants caught quick sight of the horsemen on the sky-line above
them; there was a wave of hands, a faint shout of farewell, and then
the frail link of sight was broken.
All day we held our southern way at an easy pace.
The horses were all too unused to work, to allow of more than a walk or
trot being used; but the calculations of time had been based upon easy
going, and there was no necessity for rapid movement.
I have already spoken of the general character of the prairie through
which we travelled. Here and there small copsewood studded the face of
the great expanse of rolling grass-land; at times, the sheen of a blue
lakelet caught the eye; and as the morning sun flashed over the scene,
strange glimpses of hill-top, rock, and large trees were visible on the
far-away horizon――those tricks of mirage which so frequently deceive
the sight of the traveller while the morning and evening beams are
slanting along the wilderness.
Pleasant is this every-day life of travel over these great northern
prairies, when the spring has come up from his southern home, bringing
all his wealth of bird and bud to deck his roadway to the Polar Sea.
How fresh are the cotton-wood thickets where the paired partridges
nestle, and roll in the dry scented leaves of last year’s autumn! How
sweet are the early flowers that seem to burst all at once from the
yellow grass, specking the knolls with pale blue buds, that open to
look at the mid-day sun as he passes overhead, and then close again as
the evening chills creep over the scene!
Over the ridge-line to the south, long V-shaped lines of wild geese
come sailing on their northern way, some trailing behind as though they
fain would cry halt along the margins of many of these soft and quiet
lakes, whose blue waters spread invitingly below them; but inexorable
instinct bids them follow on behind the wide arms of the moving
wedge-shape column, into regions where yet the spring is a laggard,
but in which man is a total stranger.
Yes, it is pleasant work that daily routine of prairie travel――work
that brings to the heart of man as much of the simple satisfaction that
exists in breathing, seeing, living, as can perhaps be found the whole
earth over.
Over such a scene we now held our way, and evening found us camped by a
tiny lake many miles from the starting-point.
The next day and the next day beheld us still holding south. But a
change had gradually crept over the landscape. The thickets had become
few, the lakelets scarce. Long stretches of unbroken plain lay before
us, and, rolling away to east and west, the same treeless and yellow
grassy hills spread out to the farthest verge of vision.
But there were no buffalo to be seen. Far and near the eye of the
Sioux scanned in vain for a trace of those dark specks so welcome to
the hunter’s sight――those moving specks, so infinitely small on the
horizon, so impressive in the nearer distance, that tell him the great
herds are at hand.
The fourth day had arrived, the last day for which food had been
brought. More than 100 miles had been travelled, and yet not one trace
of buffalo was visible on any side. From the evening camp that day we
made a long survey of the plains. A ridge higher than its neighbours
gave us a far extending view over the prairies, and as we stood upon
its summit while the sun was nearing the western horizon, vast indeed
was the scene that lay within the compass of a single glance. If ever
the mere fact of space can be thoroughly realized by man on earth,
instantly embodied as it were in a single sweep of vision, brought
home to the mind by the simple process of sight, it is when the eye
sweeps over such a scene as this upon which we now looked. Not a cloud
obscured it; no mist arose from stream or river; no blur of smoke
crossed its immense depth. To the west, all was brilliant colour; to
the east, the pale tints of the coming night were faintly visible above
the horizon.
A grand sight surely! but one, nevertheless, upon which we now looked
with a keen sense of disappointment; for all this scene of lonely
distance held in its vast area no hope of food.
Still the Sioux was determined to hold his course further out into the
waste.
“For two days more,” he said, as we finished the last bit of pemmican
in a hollow beneath the hill from which our survey had been made――“for
two days we will journey on to the south.”
“And then,” I inquired, “if we should not fall in with buffalo what
will you do?”
“And then,” said the Sioux, “I will show you how we still can live and
still can travel.”
Next morning we were off at daybreak, and all the long day through
a steady pace was maintained to the south. Evening fell――morning
dawned――and yet no food or sign of food appeared. The bird-life of
the park-like prairie that lay to the north had wholly vanished. The
lakelets lay at long intervals apart. Trace of buffalo there was none.
Still the Sioux kept his course unchanged, and so confidently had he
spoken of the certainty of finding food that evening, that I never
doubted for an instant that all would yet be well.
Each ridge that lay before us seemed to me to be the one that would
bring to view the much desired game; but as ridge after ridge was
passed and yet no sign of life became visible, I often bent my gaze to
the west in order to measure the moments of daylight yet remaining.
At last, from one of those innumerable eminences that dot the surface
of the prairie the Sioux drew rein and dismounted. All was unchanged.
The vast circle of sky-line held no living creature in its embrace.
Close by there lay a small sheet of water, and by its margin we two
hungry men, unsaddled for the night.
But this time the Sioux did not perform the usual process of hobbling
and turning adrift his horse.
“I promised you that you should have food to-night,” he said to me,
“and now you shall see how it is to be done.”
So saying, he drew from his leather coat a small pocket-knife, and took
from the pack of his saddle a tin cup holding about a pint. Then he
passed the larêt with a running noose round his horse’s neck, drawing
it tight as he did so. He then spoke a few words of encouragement to
the horse, and the faithful animal answered by turning his head and
rubbing his nostrils against his master’s arm.
Watching these proceedings with great interest, I saw to my astonishment
the Sioux open a vein in the horse’s neck, and begin to draw from it a
thin stream of blood. The horse never winced at the puncture, nor indeed
did he appear to be aware of what was going on. In a few minutes the
little vessel was quite full; the cord was slackened, and the drain
ceased.
Approaching the small fire of old buffalo chips and small sage stalks,
which had just been lighted, the Sioux placed the vessel of blood upon
the flame. Into it he crushed a few leaves of the wild sage which grew
so profusely around. When the mixture had simmered for some minutes, he
handed the cup to me. It did not look an inviting repast; but hunger
borne for two days will make palatable most of the dishes that it is
possible to put before a man.
The feeling that gnawed my stomach was something more than mere
hunger, and urged by its raging pangs I took with eagerness what would
otherwise have been to me a nauseous compound. Strange as it may
appear, it really was palatable, and what was still more important, it
was nourishing and sustaining. While half of the contents of the tin
yet remained, I handed it to the Indian, and our supper was soon over.
Strange shifts are those the red man learns in order to sustain his
life amid the perils of the wilderness. Many of these shifts I had been
taught in the past year, but none so strange as this one.
“See,” said the Sioux, when the scanty meal was finished, “the white
man would have killed his horse when hunger had come upon him; he would
have lived for three days, or four, and then he would have died. On
these two horses we can live, if necessary, for many days, and they
will still carry us along our way.”
At dawn next morning we were astir.
The Sioux ascended the hill at once. I remained in the camp. It was yet
indistinct light, and the eye failed for a time to reach even midway
across the vast field of vision that lay around. But at length the
reddening eastern sky cast its reflection deeper into the west, and
pierced the prairie in every direction. Suddenly the Sioux waved his
hand, and shouted a wild whoop of triumph! The buffalo were in sight!
Far off and faint, dwarfed down by distance to mere dark specks, they
dotted the horizon to the south-west, and spread nearer into the scene
in atoms that were ever growing more distinct.
I was quickly at his side. Well indeed might the Indian have called his
war-note. The sight would have been one to call forth no scant measure
of enthusiasm, even had it been looked upon by men whose minds had not
been strung by hunger to most anxious intensity, for in itself it was a
glorious prospect.
Upon this vast silent plain had come, during the dark hours, a mighty
invasion. The frontier of the horizon had been passed; the columns had
spread out like some great fan-shaped cloud, and where the evening sun
had gone down over a landscape lonely and untenanted, the glory of the
morning beams had come flushing up upon the myriad surges of that wild
animal life which, in size, majesty, and numbers, stands all unequalled
over the earth.
“How far are they away?” I asked, after I had for some moments gazed
upon this grand scene.
“Three hours’ riding will take us to the foremost bulls,” answered the
Indian. “The cows are a day or two farther off; but we cannot afford to
pick our animals. We must take the first that comes.”
Descending the ridge we were soon in movement towards the sky-line of
the south-west.
Towards mid-day the leading files of the herd were close at hand.
The ground was broken into many ridges, having between them valleys
that afforded perfect facilities for approach. It was not long,
therefore, ere a shot from the rifle of the Sioux had brought down a
young bull, near whose prostrate body our camp was at once made, and
hunger fully satisfied――the tongue and some of the marrow bones being
quickly put to roast over a fire made of sage sticks and dry grass.
The plan now formed by Red Cloud was to keep along the outskirts of the
main body of the advancing column, which he judged to be many miles in
length.
It was not, he thought, necessary to proceed much farther on our
present course, as the Indians with whom he hoped to fall in, would be
sure to follow the movements of the buffalo, and to have their camp one
day or so behind the main body.
In this his surmises were perfectly correct. The next day saw the herd
moving steadily towards the north-east; but it also brought a body
of Indians into sight, whose quick eyes were not slow to detect the
presence of strangers in the vicinity.
Having scouted for a time along ridges that commanded a view of our
camp, a body of six braves, satisfied with their observations, came
riding up at a gallop. They proved to belong to a branch of the Blood
Indians, the main body of which tribe was now “pitching” two days
farther south, near the range of wooded hills known as the Cypress
Mountains.
The buffalo, they said, had only recently passed the American
boundary-line; and there had been some conflicts between Indian bands
which had followed them over British territory, and the people of their
own (the Blood) tribe.
Their cousins and allies, the Peaginoos, Blackfeet, and Sircies, were
away to the west and north; but doubtless they would all soon draw near
the buffalo, when they heard the news that they had reached “the great
prairie.”
These were not altogether cheering tidings for us. The presence of
the Sircies would undoubtedly lead to hostilities; and although there
existed no actual cause of quarrel between the Sioux and the Blackfeet
or their kindred tribes, still their known hostility to almost all
other races of red men around the wide circle of their boundaries,
made it more than likely they would not hesitate to attack a solitary
wanderer in their midst.
To the inquiry of the Sioux as to their having horses to barter, they
replied that there were many horses with their tribe; and that if the
Sioux and the white man would visit the camp, they had little doubt but
that a trade could be readily entered upon.
It was arranged that the visit would be paid, and then the braves rode
away in the direction from which they had come.
The object which the Sioux had hoped to attain was to procure the
horses he stood in need of before any of the kindred tribes already
mentioned had joined the Bloods.
Once in possession of half-a-dozen horses, and with one day’s start,
he would defy the united efforts of all the Sircies, Blackfeet, and
Peaginoos to overtake him; but our position he well knew would be most
hazardous if one or all of these bands should arrive ere his trade was
concluded.
Early next morning, accordingly, we moved in the trail of the six Blood
Indians, and by evening drew near the camp of the main body at the base
of the Cypress hills.
The lodges were pitched along a level piece of ground a short distance
away from a stream, which had its source in the neighbouring hills.
The banks of this stream held growth of poplar, and bastard maple, and
willow, which kept the camp in fuel, and yielded materials for the work
of hide stretching and pemmican making――all which operations were in
full swing in front of the lodges.
The arrival of the strangers was the signal for the coming forth of
many braves; but etiquette did not permit the chief to come out from
his lodge until the visit of ceremony had been duly paid to him by the
strangers.
As we entered the camp we shook hands with the warriors and men of
lesser note, who stood around on every side.
Finally dismounting near the chief’s lodge, and beckoning me to follow
him, Red Cloud passed in beneath the low opening, and shaking hands
with the chief, sat down on a buffalo robe at the farther side of the
fire which smouldered in the centre.
The chief Tashota, or the Left-handed, was a tall and powerful-looking
man, just past the prime of life. He sat reclining on his robe, looking
straight into the fire before him, and blowing slow puffs from a
calumet of green pipestone, curiously carved into the body and head of
a bird. I also shook hands, and then seated myself in silence.
A minute or two passed, and Tashota, taking his pipe from his lips,
spoke.
“Have my friends come far?”
“Yes. Seven days have passed since we left the Red Deer river.”
Then followed questions at slow intervals on most of the subjects of
interest in prairie land――the game, the news of war, the movements of
tribes, the doings of the white traders; but all semblance of curiosity
on the part of the chief to know the objects of the present visit was
carefully avoided, and that eagerness which, in civilization, is so
prone to go at once “to the point” was nowhere observable.
Nor was the Sioux, anxious though he felt on the score of time, over
hasty to develope his object. Of course he said nothing about the party
left at the cache. He merely accounted for his presence in that part
of the country by his desire to fall in with buffalo after the winter;
and while expressing his willingness to become the purchaser of a few
horses, he also adroitly touched upon the chances of the other tribes
shortly expected to arrive, being possessed of many superfluous animals
which they would be eager to dispose of.
This was a clever bit of trade tactics. Tashota was not anxious to
see a customer go even to his cousins; so after a time he asked what
kind of animals the Sioux might require, and what he had to offer in
exchange for them?
He wanted five or six animals of average size and speed. He had only
a few weapons to offer in exchange; but they were good ones. He would
show them to the chief.
Whereupon he took out a short but very handy American repeating rifle,
carrying in its magazine fourteen cartridges, which, by a simple action
of the trigger-bar, were passed one by one into the barrel, and fired
in succession with great rapidity; and he also laid on the ground a bag
of cartridges and three revolver pistols.
The eyes of Tashota glistened as they looked at these weapons, and in
his mind he resolved that they should be his.
Calling in one of his braves he ordered his band of horses to be driven
in. Meantime his wife had been busily engaged in preparing dinner for
us strangers. A plentiful supply of the best bits of the buffalo were
put to boil over the replenished fire, and a meal was soon ready, to
which the memory of the long fast so recently endured caused ample
justice to be done.
A lodge had been pitched for us, and when dinner was over we withdrew
to it for the night, to await the arrival of the horses on the
following morning.
But Red Cloud well knew that our position was anything but secure;
there were other dangers threatening him besides those that lay in the
expected arrival of the Blackfeet or of the Sircies. He reckoned that
at least a week must elapse ere that portion of the Sircies which had
attacked the hut at the Forks could reach the Cypress hills; so far as
they were concerned he was safe. But the stray rumours he had caught
of war between the Ogahalla branch of his own race and the Bloods were
ominous of trouble to him.
If the Bloods had suffered at the hands of his race, they would not
hesitate to revenge their injuries or their losses upon him. One thing
was certain, and that was that the sooner he got away from his present
position the better.
These thoughts gave him ample material for reflection during the night.
Early next morning the horses had been driven in, and word came to the
hut where we were lodged that Tashota was ready to do a trade.
It was not long before the Sioux had selected five horses from the
band. The terms of barter were quickly settled, and the chosen horses
having been caught, were duly handed over to their new owner, whose
rifles, revolvers, and ammunition passed over to the Blood chief.
By this time it was mid-day. The camp was quiet, but the mind of the
Sioux was not easy. Things seemed to him to have run too smoothly in
their exchange. His quick eye had detected what he considered to be
faint indications of an intention to take back, if possible, the horses
now bartered. In the camp he knew he was safe; the laws of hospitality
forbade a guest, once received, being ill-treated; but once outside
the last lodge he would have all his tact and watchfulness put to the
test――so at least he surmised, and we shall soon see how true were his
fears.
It was necessary for him, however, to hide completely from our hosts
all tokens of suspicion. If our escape was to be effected it must be
done soon, and before the Bloods could have taken steps to secure our
capture. He determined, however, to make no secret of his intention to
depart, judging truly that it would have been impossible to have got
away unnoticed, and that it was better to maintain a show of confidence
in the good faith and loyalty of the Bloods until the moment of any
hostile act of theirs had actually arrived.
His plan was to leave the camp two hours before nightfall, so that our
movements might be fully visible to the Bloods, and that they might see
the direction we had chosen to take; for the rest, his real intention
would be developed only when night had fallen.
It was about three o’clock in the afternoon when we directed our steps
to the lodge of Tashota. The chief was alone; not a movement of eye or
feature betrayed that he meant mischief to the person or property of
his visitors. Yet all the while a deep-laid plot had been arranged, to
rob, and if necessary to kill, the Sioux after he had quitted the camp.
“I am starting this evening,” said the Sioux as he seated himself at
the fire. “I am going north to the posts of the white traders, and the
journey is long. I have come to bid my brother farewell.”
The chief nodded, and Red Cloud continued: “I have heard rumours of war
between the Ogahalla Sioux and your people. For myself, I raise my hand
against no red man; the quarrel of the Ogahallas is their own.”
The chief still kept silence.
Red Cloud arose, and held out his hand across the fire; the Blood shook
it. Then the Sioux lifted the door-curtain of the lodge, and we passed
out into the open.
Ten minutes later we two men, with seven horses, rode slowly from the
camp.
[Illustration: Ten minutes later we rode slowly from the camp.]