LEAPING HORSE
"He is a fine fellow," Jerry said, after the Indian had left him. "You
must have a talk with him one of these days over his adventures among
the 'Rappahoes and Navahoes, who are both as troublesome rascals as are
to be found on the plains. An Indian seldom talks of his adventures, but
sometimes when you can get him in the right humour you may hear about
them."
"He talks very fair English," Tom said.
"Yes; he has been ten years among us. He was employed for two or three
years supplying the railway men with meat; but no Indian cares to hunt
long in one place, and he often goes away with parties of either hunters
or gold-seekers. He knows the country well, and is a first-rate shot;
and men are always glad to have him with them. There is no more trusty
red-skin on the plains, and he will go through fire and water for those
whom he regards as his special friends. I should say he is about the one
man alive who could take you to your uncle."
"Do you think he would?" Tom asked eagerly.
"Ah, that is another matter; I don't know what his plans are. If he is
engaged to go with another party he will go, for he would not fail
anyone to whom he had made a promise. If he isn't engaged he might
perhaps do it. Not for pay, for he has little use for money. His hunting
supplies him with all he wants. It gives him food, and occasionally he
will go with a bundle of pelts to the nearest town, and the money he
gets for them will supply him with tea and tobacco and ammunition, and
such clothes as he requires, which is little enough. Buckskin is
everlasting wear, and he gets his worked up for him by the women of any
Indian tribe among whom he may be hunting. If he were one of these fort
Indians it would be only a question of money; but it would never do to
offer it to him. He does not forget that he is a chief, though he has
been away so many years from what there is left of his old tribe. If he
did it at all it would be for the sake of your uncle. I know they have
hunted together, and fought the Apachés together. I won't say but that
if we get at him the right way, and he don't happen to have no other
plans in his mind, that he might not be willing to start with you."
"I should be glad if he would, Jerry. I have been quite dreading to get
to Fort Bridger. I have had such a splendid time of it with you that I
should feel awfully lonely after you had gone on."
"Yes, I dare say you would feel lonesome. I should have felt lonesome
myself if I did not light upon some mate going the same way. We got on
very well together, Tom. When Pete Hoskings first put it to me whether I
would be willing to take you with me as far as this, I thought that
though I liked you well enough, it would not be in my way to be playing
a sort of schoolmaster business to a young tenderfoot; but I had got to
like the notion before we left Denver, and now it seems to me that we
have had a rare good time of it together."
"We have indeed, Jerry; at least I have had. Even if the Indian would
agree to take me I should miss you awfully."
Jerry made no reply, but sat smoking his pipe and looking into the fire.
As he was sometimes inclined to be taciturn, Tom made no attempt to
continue the conversation; and after moving out and shifting the
picket-pegs so as to give the horses a fresh range of grass to munch
during the night, he returned to the fire, wrapped himself in his
blankets and lay down, his "Good-night, Jerry," meeting with no
response, his companion being evidently absorbed in his own thoughts.
"You are not going on to-day, Jerry, are you?" Tom said, as he threw off
his blankets and sat up in the morning. The sun was not yet up, but
Jerry had already stirred up the embers, put some meat over them to
cook, and put the kettle among them.
"No, I shall stop here for a day or two, lad. I am in no special hurry,
and have no call to push on. I have not made up my mind about things
yet."
They had scarcely finished breakfast when Leaping Horse came down from
the fort.
"Tom here has been asking me, chief, whether there was any chance of
getting you to guide him to his uncle. I said, of course, that I did not
know what your plans were; but that if you had nothing special before
you, possibly you might be willing to do so, as I know that you and
Straight Harry have done some tall hunting and fighting together."
The Indian's face was impassive.
"Can my young brother ride day after day and night after night, can he
go long without food and water, is he ready to run the risk of his scalp
being taken by the 'Rappahoes? Can he crawl and hide, can he leave his
horse and travel on foot, can he hear the war-cry of the red-skins
without fear?"
"I don't say that I can do all these things, chief," Tom said; "but I
can do my best. And, anyhow, I think I can promise that if we should be
attacked you shall see no signs of my being afraid, whatever I may feel.
I am only a boy yet, but I hope I am not a coward."
"You have come a long way across the sea to find my brother, Straight
Harry. You would not have come so far alone if your heart had been weak.
Leaping Horse is going back to join his white brother again, and will
take you to him."
Tom felt that any outburst of delight would be viewed with distaste by
this grave Indian, and he replied simply: "I thank you with all my
heart, chief, and I am sure that my uncle will be grateful to you."
The chief nodded his head gravely, and then, as if the matter were
settled and no more need be said about it, he turned to Jerry:
"Which way is my white friend going?"
"I'm dog-goned if I know. I had reckoned to go down past Utah, and to go
out prospecting among the hills, say a hundred miles farther west; then
while I journeyed along with Tom I got mixed in my mind. I should like
to have handed him over safe to Harry; but if Harry had gone down to the
Ute hills with an idea of trying a spot I have heard him speak of, where
he thought he had struck it rich, he might not have cared to have had me
come there, and so I concluded last night it was best the lad should
wait here till Harry got back. Now the thing is altered; they are just
hunting and prospecting, and might be glad to have me with them, and I
might as well be there as anywhere else; so as you are going back there,
I reckon I shall be one of the party."
"That will be capital, Jerry," Tom said. "With you as well as the chief
we shall be sure to get through; and it will be awfully jolly having you
with us."
"Don't you make any mistake," the miner said, "I should not be of much
more use in finding them than you would. I ain't been up among the
mountains all these years without learning something, but I ain't no
more than a child by the side of the chief. And don't you think this
affair is going to be a circus. I tell you it is going to be a hard job.
There ain't a dozen white men as have been over that country, and we
shall want to be pretty spry if we are to bring back our scalps. It is a
powerful rough country. There are peaks there, lots of them, ten
thousand feet high, and some of them two or three thousand above that.
There are rivers, torrents, and defiles. I don't say there will be much
chance of running short of food, if it wasn't that half the time one
will be afraid to fire for fear the 'tarnal Indians should hear us. We
ain't got above a month afore the first snows fall. Altogether it is a
risky business, look at it which way you will."
"Well, Jerry, if it is as bad as that, I don't think it will be right
for you and the chief to risk your lives merely that I should find my
uncle. If he is alive he is sure to come back here sooner or later; or
if he goes some other way back to Denver he will hear from Pete that I
am here, and will either write or come for me."
"It ain't entirely on your account, lad, as I am thinking of going; and
I am pretty sure the chief would tell you that it is the same with him.
You see, he tried to persuade your uncle to turn back. My opinion is,
that though he had to come here to keep the appointment, he had it in
his mind to go back again to join your uncle. Haven't I about struck
your thoughts, chief?"
The chief nodded. "My white brother Harry is in danger," he said.
"Leaping Horse had to leave him; but would have started back to-day to
take his place by his side. The Hunting Dog will go with him."
"I thought so, chief; I am dog-goned if I did not think so. It was
Hunting Dog you came back here to meet, I suppose."
"Hunting Dog is of my tribe," he said; "he is my sister's son. He came
across the plains to join me. He has hunted in his own country; this is
the first time he has come out to take his place as a man. Leaping Horse
will teach him to be a warrior."
"That is good; the more the better, so that there ain't too many. Well,
what is your advice, chief? Shall we take our pack pony with the
outfit?"
The chief shook his head decidedly. "Must travel quick and be able to
gallop fast. My white brothers must take nothing but what they can carry
with them."
"All right, chief; we will not overload ourselves. We will just take our
robes and blankets, our shooting-irons, some tea and sugar, and a few
pounds of flour. At what time shall we start?"
"In an hour we will ride out from the fort."
"We shall be ready. Ten minutes would fix us, except that I must go into
the fort and sell my critter and what flour and outfit we sha'n't want,
to a trader there.
"I ain't done badly by that deal," Jerry said when he returned. "I have
sold the pony for more than I gave for him; for the red-skins have been
keeping away from the fort of late, and the folks going by are always
wanting horses in place of those that have died on the way. The other
things all sold for a good bit more than we gave for them at Denver.
Carriage comes mighty high on these plains; besides, the trader took his
chances and reckoned them in."
"How do you mean, Jerry?"
"Waal, I told him we was going up to the Shoshone Sierra, and intended
to hunt about and to come back, maybe by the Yellowstone and then by the
Bear rivers, and that we would take the price of the goods out in trade
when we got back. That made it a sort of lottery for him, for if we
never came back at all he would never have to pay, so he could afford to
take his risks and offer me a good price. I reckon he thinks he has got
them at a gift. He has given two pieces of paper, one for you and one
for me, saying that he owes the two of us the money; so if I should go
under and you should get back, you will draw it all right."
They at once proceeded to pack their ponies. Divided between the
saddle-bags of the two animals were four pounds of tea, eight of sugar,
and thirty-six of flour. Each took a good store of ammunition, an extra
pair of breeches, a flannel shirt, and a pair of stockings. The rest of
their clothes had been packed, and taken up by Jerry to the traders to
lie there until their return.
"That is light enough for anything," Jerry said, when the things were
stowed into the saddle-bags. "Four-and-twenty pounds of grub and five
pounds of ammunition brings it up to nine-and-twenty pounds each, little
enough for a trip that may last three months for aught we know."
In addition to the ammunition in the saddle-bags, each carried a
powder-horn and a bag of bullets over his shoulder. The revolvers were
in their belts, and the rifles slung behind them. While Jerry was away
at the fort Tom had made and baked three loaves, which were cut up and
put in the holsters.
"Now we are ready, Tom; the Indians will be out in a minute or two. The
sun is just at its highest."
Two minutes later the chief and his companion rode out from the gate of
the fort. Jerry and Tom mounted their horses and cantered over to meet
them. As they came up, Tom looked with interest at the young Indian. He
judged him to be about nineteen, and he had a bright and intelligent
face. He was, like his uncle, attired in buckskin; but the shirt was
fringed and embroidered, as was the band that carried his powder-horn, a
gift, doubtless, from some Indian maiden at his departure from his
village. No greetings were exchanged; but the chief and Jerry rode at
once side by side towards the northeast, and Tom took his place by the
side of the young Indian.
"How are you?" he said, holding out his hand. The young Indian took it
and responded to the shake, but he shook his head.
"Ah, you don't speak English yet?" Hunting Dog again shook his head.
"That is a pity," Tom went on; "it would have been jolly if we could
have talked together."
The chief said something to Jerry, who turned around in his saddle. "His
uncle says he can talk some. He has taught him a little when he has paid
visits to the village, but he has had no practice in speaking it. He
will get on after a time."
All were well mounted, and they travelled fast. Just before sunset they
crossed the Green River at a ford used by the emigrants, and some fifty
miles northeast of Fort Bridger. They had seen a herd of deer by the
way, and the two Indians had dismounted and stalked them. The others
lost sight of them, but when two rifle-shots were heard Jerry said, "We
will take the horses along to them, you may be sure they have got meat;
the chief is a dead shot, and he says that his nephew has also gifts
that way." As they expected, they found the Indians standing beside two
dead deer. Hunting Dog laid open the stomachs with a slash of his knife,
and removed the entrails, then tying the hind legs together swung the
carcasses on to his horse behind the saddle, and the journey was at once
renewed.
"You will make for Frémont's Buttes, I suppose, chief?" Jerry said, as
after riding up the river for three or four miles so as to be able to
obtain wood for their fire--as for a considerable distance on either
side of the emigrant trail not a shrub was to be seen--they dismounted,
turned the horses loose, lit a fire, and prepared a meal.
"Yes. We will go over the pass and camp at one of the little lakes at
the head of the north fork, thence we will ride across the plain and
ford Little Wind River, and then follow up the Sage Creek and make our
camp at night on Buffalo Lake. From there we must follow their trail."
"And where shall we have to begin to look out for the 'Rappahoes?"
"They may be over the next rise; no one can say. The 'Rappahoes are like
the dead leaves drifting before the wind. They come as far south as the
emigrant trail, and have attacked caravans many times. After to-night we
must look out for them always, and must put out our fires before dark."
Tom had noticed how carefully the young Indian had selected the wood for
the fire; searching carefully along by the edge of the river for
drift-wood, and rejecting all that contained any sap. He himself had
offered to cut down some wood with the axe he carried strapped to his
saddle, but Hunting Dog had shaken his head.
"No good, no good," he said. "Make heap smoke; smoke very bad."
Tom thought that the shrub he was about to cut would give out obnoxious
smoke that would perhaps flavour the meat hanging over it, but when the
Indian added, "Heap smoke, red-skins see a long way," he understood that
Hunting Dog had been so careful in choosing the wood in order to avoid
making any smoke whatever that might attract the attention of Indians at
a distance from them. It was his first lesson in the necessity for
caution; and as darkness set in he looked round several times, half
expecting to see some crouching red-skins. The careless demeanour of his
companions, however, reassured him, for he felt certain that if there
was any fear of a surprise, they would be watchful.
After supper the Indian talked over with Jerry the route they would most
probably have to pursue. The miner had never been in this part of the
country before; indeed, very few white men, with the exception of
trappers who had married Indian women and had been admitted into their
tribes, had ever penetrated into this, the wildest portion of the Rocky
Mountains. Vague rumours existed of the abundance of game there, and of
the existence of gold, but only one attempt had been made to prospect on
a large scale. This had taken place three years before, when a party of
twenty Californian miners penetrated into the mountains. None of them
returned, but reports brought down by Indians to the settlements were to
the effect that, while working a gold reef they had discovered, they
were attacked and killed to a man by a war party of Sioux.
"I was mighty nigh being one of that crowd," Jerry said when he told the
story to Tom, as they sat over the camp-fire that night. "I heard of
their start when I got back to Salt Lake City, after being away for some
time among the hills. I legged it arter them as fast as I could, but I
found when I got to the last settlement that they had gone on ten days
before, and as I did not know what line they had followed, and did not
care to cross the pass alone, I gave it up. Mighty lucky thing it was,
though I did not think so at the time."
"But why should my uncle's party have gone into such a dangerous country
when they knew that the natives were so hostile?"
"It is a mighty big place, it is pretty nigh as big as all the eastern
states chucked into one, and the red-skins are not thick. No one knows
how many there are, but it is agreed they are not a big tribe. Then it
ain't like the plains, where a party travelling can be seen by an Indian
scout miles and miles away. It is all broken ground, canons and valleys
and rocks. Then again, when we get on the other side of the Wind River
they tell me there are big forests. That is so, chief, isn't it?"
The chief nodded. "Heap forests," he said, "higher up rocks and bad
lands; all bad. In winter snow everywhere on hills. Red-skins not like
cold; too much cold, wigwam no good."
"That's it, you see, Tom. We are here a long way above the sea-level,
and so in the hills you soon get above the timber-line. It's barren land
there, just rock, without grass enough for horses, and in winter it is
so all-fired cold that the Indians can't live there in their wigwams. I
reckon their villages are down in the sheltered valleys, and if we don't
have the bad luck to run plump into one of these we may wander about a
mighty long time before we meet with a red-skin. That is what you mean,
isn't it, chief?"
Leaping Horse grunted an assent.
"What game is there in the country?"
"There are wapitis, which are big stag with thundering great horns, and
there are big-horns. Them are mountain sheep; they are mostly up above
the timber-line. Wapitis and big-horns are good for food, but their
skins ain't worth taking off. There is beaver, heaps of them; though I
reckon there ain't as many as there were by a long way, for since the
whites came out here and opened trade, and the red-skins found they
could get good prices for beaver, they have brought them down by
thousands every year. Still, there is no doubt there is plenty left, and
that trappers would do first-rate there if the red-skins were friendly.
In course, there is plenty of b'ars, but unless you happen to have a
thundering good chance it is just as well to leave the b'ars alone, for
what with the chances of getting badly mauled, and what with the weight
of the skin, it don't pay even when you come right side up out of a
tussle."
"Are there any maps of the region?"
"None of any account. They are all just guess-work. You may take it that
this is just a heap of mountains chucked down anyhow. Such maps as there
are have been made from tales trappers who came in with pelts have told.
Well, firstly they only knew about just where the tribe they had joined
lived, and in the second place you may bet they warn't such fools as to
tell anything as would help other fellows to get there; so you may put
down that they told very little, and what they did tell was all lies.
Some day or other I suppose there will be an expedition fitted out to go
right through, and to punish these dog-goned red-skins and open the
country; but it will be a long time arter that afore it will be safe
travelling, for I reckon that soldiers might march and march for years
through them mountains without ever catching a sight of a red-skin if
they chose to keep out of their way. And now I reckon we had best get in
atween our blankets."
The two Indians had already lain down by the fire. Tom was some time
before he could get to sleep. The thought of the wild and unknown
country he was about to enter, with its great game, its hidden gold
treasures, its Indians and its dangers, so excited his imagination that,
tired as he was with the long ride, two or three hours passed before he
fell off to sleep. He was awoke by being shaken somewhat roughly by
Jerry.
"Why, you are sleeping as sound as a b'ar in a hollow tree," the miner
said. "You are generally pretty spry in the morning." A dip in the cold
water of the river awoke Tom thoroughly, and by the time he had rejoined
his comrades breakfast was ready. The ground rose rapidly as they rode
forward. They were now following an Indian trail, a slightly-marked path
made by the Indians as they travelled down with their ponies laden with
beaver skins, to exchange for ammunition, blankets, and tobacco at the
trading station. The country was barren in the extreme, being covered
only with patches of sage brush. As they proceeded it became more and
more hilly, and distant ridges and peaks could be seen as they crossed
over the crests.
"These are the bad lands, I suppose?"
"You bet they are, Tom, but nothing like as bad as you will see afore
you are done. Sage brush will grow pretty nigh everywhere, but there are
thousands of square miles of rock where even sage brush cannot live."
The hills presently became broken up into fantastic shapes, while
isolated rocks and pinnacles rose high above the general level.
"How curiously they are coloured," Tom remarked, "just regular bands of
white and red and green and orange; and you see the same markings on all
these crags, at the same level."
"Just so, Tom. We reckon that this country, and it is just the same down
south, was once level, and the rains and the rivers and torrents cut
their way through it and wore it down, and just these buttes and crags
and spires were left standing, as if to show what the nature of the
ground was everywhere. Though why the different kinds of rocks has such
different colours is more than I can tell. I went out once with an old
party as they called a scientific explorer. I have heard him say this
was all under water once, and sometimes one kind of stuff settled down
like mud to the bottom, sometimes another, though where all the water
came from is more nor I can tell. He said something about the ground
being raised afterwards, and I suppose the water run off then. I did not
pay much attention to his talk, for he was so choke-full of larning, and
had got such a lot of hard names on the tip of his tongue, that there
were no making head or tail of what he was saying."
Tom had learnt something of the elements of geology, and could form an
idea of the processes by which the strange country at which he was
looking had been formed.
"That's Frémont's Buttes," the Indian said presently, pointing to a
flat-topped hill that towered above the others ahead.
"Why, I thought you said it was a fifty-mile ride to-day, Jerry, and we
can't have gone more than half that."
"How far do you suppose that hill is off?"
"Three or four miles, I should think."
"It is over twenty, lad. Up here in the mountains the air is so clear
you can see things plain as you couldn't make out the outlines of down
below."
"But it seems to me so close that I could make out people walking about
on the top," Tom said a little incredulously.
"I dare say, lad. But you will see when you have ridden another hour it
won't seem much closer than it does now."
Tom found out that the miner was not joking with him, as he at first had
thought was the case. Mile after mile was ridden, and the landmark
seemed little nearer than before. Presently Hunting Dog said something
to the chief, pointing away to the right. Leaping Horse at once reined
in, and motioned to his white companions to do the same.
"What is it, chief?" Jerry asked.
"Wapiti," he replied.
"That is good news," the miner said. "It will be lucky if we can lay in
a supply of deer flesh here. The less we shoot after we get through the
pass the better. Shall we go with you, chief?"
"My white brothers had better ride on slowly," Leaping Horse said.
"Might scare deer. No good lose time."
Tom felt rather disappointed, but as he went on slowly with Jerry, the
miner said: "You will have plenty of chances later on, lad, and there is
no time to lose in fooling about. The red-skins will do the business."
Looking back, Tom saw the two Indians gallop away till they neared the
crest of a low swell. Then they leapt from their horses, and stooping
low went forward. In a short time they lay prone on the ground, and
wriggled along until just on the crest.
"I reckon the stag is just over there somewhere," Jerry said. "The young
red-skin must have caught sight of an antler."
They stopped their ponies altogether now, and sat watching the Indians.
These were half a mile away, but every movement was as clearly visible
as if they were but a hundred yards distant. The chief raised himself on
his arms and then on to his knees. A moment later he lay down again, and
they then crawled along parallel with the crest for a couple of hundred
yards. Then they paused, and with their rifles advanced they crept
forward again.
"Now they see them," Jerry exclaimed.
The Indians lay for half a minute motionless. Then two tiny puffs of
smoke darted out. The Indians rose to their feet and dashed forward as
the sound of their shots reached the ears of their companions.
"Come on," Jerry said, "you may be sure they have brought down one stag
anyhow. The herd could not have been far from that crest or the boy
would not have seen the antler over it, and the chief is not likely to
miss a wapiti at a hundred yards."
Looking back presently Tom saw that the Indian ponies had disappeared.
"Ay, Hunting Dog has come back for them. You may be sure they won't be
long before they are up with us again."
In a quarter of an hour the two Indians rode up, each having the
hind-quarters of a deer fastened across his horse behind the saddle,
while the tongues hung from the peaks.
"Kill them both at first shot, chief?" Jerry asked; "I did not hear
another report."
"Close by," the chief said; "no could miss."
"It seems a pity to lose such a quantity of meat," Tom remarked.
"The Indians seldom carry off more than the hindquarters of a deer,
never if they think there is a chance of getting more soon. There is a
lot more flesh on the hindquarters than there is on the rest of the
stag. But that they are wasteful, the red-skins are, can't be denied.
Even when they have got plenty of meat they will shoot a buffalo any day
just for the sake of his tongue."
It was still early in the afternoon when they passed under the shadow of
the buttes, and, two miles farther, came upon a small lake, the water
from which ran north. Here they unsaddled the horses and prepared to
camp.