THE WOUNDING OF FOX EYE.
The days passed pleasantly and quickly. Everybody in the camp was busy,
every one was happy. On the drying scaffolds among the lodges, hung the
wide sheets of bright red meat and of white back fat, which slowly
turned brown in the dry wind and under the burning sun. And as this
dried meat was removed and packed away, other fresh meat took its place,
to be in turn removed. All day long women were busy over hides stretched
out upon the ground, removing the flesh and fat and hair, and preparing
them for lodge-skins. Then presently, new lodges, fresh and white under
the sunlight, began to take the place of those that age and use had
turned gray and brown. The dogs, which a few weeks before had been
gaunt, lean and hungry looking, were now fat and sleek. They no longer
spent their time on the prairie hunting little birds and ground
squirrels, but gorged with fresh buffalo meat, lay about in the sun and
slept, except when disturbed by malicious children who enjoyed creeping
up to an unsuspecting or sleeping animal, and beating it with a great
stick.
From time to time the camp moved a little way. Buffalo were plenty
everywhere. Many were killed and their flesh and skins brought into the
camp. One night after a chase, as Jack and Joe were walking about
through the camp, a man and a little boy rode up to a lodge close to
them. The man's horse was loaded with meat, but on that ridden by the
boy, there was only a small pack, wrapped up in the hide of a calf. A
woman took the ropes of both horses, but the man, instead of going into
his lodge, turned about and called out a short speech in a loud voice.
Joe pulled Jack's arm and said, "Let's stop and watch; that's Boss Ribs
Hunter. His boy has just killed a calf. It is the first time the little
fellow ever hunted, and his father is giving away a horse."
"How do you mean, Joe," said Jack.
"Why, you see," said Joe, "the boy has killed a calf and as he's only a
little fellow, it's a pretty big thing for him, and his father wants to
show how glad he is by making a present, so he called out and told Last
Coyote to come and see what his boy had done. Last Coyote is old and
poor. He hasn't any relations and I don't believe he's even got a horse.
It is a pretty brave thing of Boss Ribs Hunter to do, to give him a
horse, because he knows that he never can expect Last Coyote to give him
one. Sometimes you know, a man will give away a horse to a rich person,
and then before very long, this rich person will feel that he's either
got to give a horse back again, or some other good present. But when
anybody gives a present to a poor man, it shows that he has a strong
heart." While he was saying this, an old man in a very much worn robe
had come out of a lodge not far off, and had walked up to Boss Ribs
Hunter. He spoke to the man, pointing first to his little boy and then
to the horse with the small pack of meat on it, and presently, without a
word, the old man clambered onto the horse's back, and rode away through
the camp singing as he went.
"Now," said Joe, "you'll see that old man will ride all around through
the camp, and will tell everybody what that little boy has done, and
that Boss Ribs Hunter gave him this horse because he came to see what
the boy had done. In that way, everybody in the camp will come to know
that the boy has done well, and that Boss Ribs Hunter has a good heart."
A few days after this, the young men, who had been sent out to look for
buffalo, reported that they had moved, and that there were few now on
the prairie. The chiefs, therefore, gave orders that the camp should be
moved north to Milk River, in the hope that on that stream buffalo would
be found. The morning when the camp moved, Hugh and Fox Eye, with Jack
and Joe, rode away early ahead of the camp and a little to one side of
the line of march, to examine the country.
The sun had but just risen when they started, and the air was cool and
delightful. The grass of the prairie, which had long before turned
yellow, was covered with a white frost, and the insects, which all
through the summer had been enjoying life, were stiff with the cold and
unable to move. Near a great butte, on the vertical sides of which could
be seen the mud homes of many cliff swallows, Jack was surprised to see
a great number of these birds on the ground, and when he came to the
place and they had flown away, he could see that they had been feeding
on some very small beetles, with which the ground was fairly strewn.
From a shelf on the side of this butte, as they were passing along, a
great lanner falcon swooped down to the prairie close before them, and
rose again with a squeaking ground squirrel in his talons, and when it
returned to the shelf, was saluted by the whistling cries of two
full-grown young, perched there. The time for singing birds had passed,
and already the different broods of the little prairie sparrows and the
white-winged black birds, were beginning to get together in small
flocks. But the meadow-larks, more cheery than their fellows, still
whistled with mellow call from sage brush and boulder on either hand.
Now and then a coyote barked at the riders from the top of a near-by
hill, and perhaps a jack-rabbit sprang from the grass and galloped off,
or a badger waddled slowly to one side and disappeared in his hole. Hugh
and Fox Eye rode side by side ahead, and the two boys followed.
As the men rode along, they talked, and this was the report of their
conversation, which Hugh afterward gave to Jack. "My friend," said Fox
Eye, "I have something to tell you. If you were like other white men I
should not say it to you, but you are like our own people and I can tell
you what is in my mind. This morning I do not feel well, I am afraid. I
think something is going to happen; something bad. This is why I think
so. Last night my dream came to me while I was asleep, and spoke to me
saying, 'My friend, this day you will be in great danger. It may be that
you will lose your body. Look out carefully then, and try to see that
nothing bad happens; for I tell you that danger is close to you,
although I cannot see what it is, nor how it will come.' After my dream
had spoken thus, I awoke and the woman was just beginning to build the
fire. Ever since then I have thought of this. It troubles me. This
morning I could not eat. I do not know what this means, but I know that
something bad is likely to happen."
"Well," said Hugh, "I think that you ought to do just what your dream
tells you. You must look out carefully, do not go far away, nor into any
place where enemies may be hidden. Do not, to-day, run your horse even
if they should chase buffalo; it might be that your horse would step
into a hole and throw you and hurt you, or a cow might catch you and
kill you. Travel quietly wherever you go, and if the day passes without
anything happening, then you may feel that by listening to the words of
your dream, you have escaped this danger."
"I take your words," said Fox Eye, "you speak well. But I should like to
know what this danger is, that is likely to come. It does not seem as if
it could be any of the things that you speak of. The prairie is bare of
buffalo; they will not chase them. Our young men have travelled far in
these days, and no signs of enemies have been seen."
"Well," said Hugh, "you can't tell. Often danger comes from the places
that seem least likely, and of course, if enemies should let us know
they were coming, before they made the attack, there would not be much
danger from them."
"It is true, it is true;" said Fox Eye.
For some hours they travelled on and at length climbed a high butte,
from which, Fox Eye had told them, that the Milk River could be seen. He
was right. Far away to the northward was the winding green line where
the sluggish stream flowed, showing, now and then, a larger patch of
green, which marked the growth of a bunch of willows or other shrubs.
From this point, too, they could see that there were here, some buffalo;
not many, but near them a few scattering bulls, while toward the river
the black dots were thicker on the prairie. Looking back over the
country they had traversed, they could see, miles away, the dark winding
line, which showed where the camp was coming. After a time they started
on, and as the sun began to fall toward the west, they saw from time to
time, quite near them, a few bulls. One of these was lying on a broken
hillside not far from the course they were to follow, and as they
approached it, Fox Eye said to Hugh, "I think I will go and kill that
bull. My lodge has no fresh meat and I can kill this animal without
going far. You go on, and I will kill it and bring some of the meat, and
soon overtake you." Presently they passed out of sight of the distant
bull, and soon Fox Eye left them, and rode off toward it, while the
others went on their way. After a little they heard a distant report of
the gun, and Hugh, turning to Jack, said, "Well, I guess the old man got
him." Before they had gone very far, however, they heard very faintly,
two reports, almost together, and then a third, and Hugh, wheeling his
horse, shouted, "Come on, boys, Fox Eye has been attacked;" and in a
moment all three were riding as hard as they could, back toward where
the bull had been seen. The distance was not great, but to Jack and Joe
it seemed as if their horses had never gone so slowly. In a very few
minutes, however, they crossed a ridge from which they could see the
bull lying on the hillside, and near it, another large animal, but
nothing was seen of Fox Eye. A very few minutes more brought them close
to the bull, and then they could see that the other animal was Fox Eye's
horse lying dead, and a moment later Fox Eye, himself, raised his head
from behind the bull's body. As they stopped by him, he spoke to Hugh
and said, "You see that the words of my dream came true, friend;" and as
he struggled to his feet, they saw that he was wounded in the leg, and
was bleeding badly.
Hugh quickly dismounted and looked at the wound, which had been made by
a big trade ball that had passed through the fleshy part of the thigh,
fortunately without breaking the bone or cutting any important blood
vessel.
"Well," said Hugh, "we must fix you up, friend, you are bleeding badly."
"Yes," said Fox Eye, "I was surprised. I did not listen to the words
spoken to me in sleep, and have acted foolishly, but first ride to the
top of the hill and see where these enemies have gone, I saw three of
them and there may be more."
"That's a pretty good idea," said Hugh, "scatter out, boys, and let's go
up to the top of the hill. Joe, you take Fox Eye's gun and go to the
North; son, you go to the South, and I'll go up in the middle; I guess
those fellows saw us coming in plenty of time and have skinned out."
Well spread out, the three rode to the top of the hill and looked
carefully over. There, a long way off, galloping over the prairie as
hard as they could to the East, were seen three horsemen. They were too
far off to be overtaken, and a little search along the hillside showed
that there were no more enemies there.
They returned to Fox Eye, and as well as they could, with handkerchiefs
and with pieces torn from their shirts, they bandaged his wounds. His
horse was dead, and Joe put its saddle on the animal he had been riding,
and prepared to go forward on foot.
[Illustration: "I HEARD TWO SHOTS AND FELT THAT I WAS HURT."--_Page
244_]
"This is how it happened," said Fox Eye, when Hugh asked him to tell the
story of the attack. "I had left my horse behind and crept up close to
the bull, and when I shot, it didn't get up; it just died there. Then I
went back for my beast and bringing it up to the bull, I began to cut
out some meat. I was busy, and I think didn't keep a good look-out,
though every moment or two, as I thought, I looked about me, and then
the first thing I knew I heard two shots and felt that I was hurt, and
saw my horse fall. They had shot him for fear that I should run away. As
I fell, I saw the three men running down to strike me, and I raised
myself on one elbow, and when they were pretty near, I fired, and the
first man fell. I think the others thought I had a double-barrel gun,
for they separated and ran back and hid. I was charging my gun as
quickly as I could, but it took me a long time to get the ball down,
then I quickly crept in between the legs of the bull and used its body
for a breastwork. When I looked again, I saw that the man I had shot
had disappeared. I think he was only wounded.
"I wondered whether you would hear the shots and come back, and I
wondered whether the three men would charge on me again. I could see
their heads every little while, as they looked over the hill and I
thought that they would charge; but pretty soon they started up the
ridge, two of them helping the man that was hurt, and then they
disappeared, and soon I heard you coming."
While Fox Eye had been talking, the other three had cut out the
buffalo's tongue and taken the meat from his hump, and had put it on
Hugh's horse. Hugh and Jack went back up the hill to the point where the
man shot by Fox Eye had fallen. There they found blood on the grass and
a trail of blood leading down a little sag to a ravine, where the man
had crossed. Here there was more blood and moccasin tracks in the sand,
which led up the hill. They returned to Fox Eye, who was then helped
into the saddle, and Hugh and Jack mounted, and with Joe on foot, the
four started down the hill. Before they had gone very far, they came in
sight of the moving column, which by this time had quite overtaken them.
When they had come close enough to the camp for the people to get an
idea of what had happened, a number of men rode out to meet them, and in
a moment, as it seemed, the news had spread through the marching column,
that enemies had been seen, and one of the people wounded. The four were
at once surrounded by men, anxious for the news, and the shrieks and
cries of women who did not know how great the misfortune might have
been, resounded in their ears. Thirty or forty soldiers rode away hotly,
to visit the scene of the encounter, and if possible to overtake the
enemies. Fox Eye was put on a travois and the village started on again
and camped that night on Milk River.
The camp on Milk River was a pleasant one, though there was but little
wood for the fires; a few small box-elder trees and a good deal of
willow brush furnished the only fuel. The stream rippled pleasantly over
the rocks which formed its bed, and Hugh told Jack that this was almost
the only place on the course of the stream, away from the mountains,
where the bottom was hard.
The next day the camp remained here, and young men scouted north of the
river, looking for buffalo. A few were seen, but not enough to justify a
general hunt, and Hugh expressed the opinion, that within a day or two
the camp would move south to one of the streams flowing into the Marias
River.
A number of the young men, who had ridden away the night before in
pursuit of the enemy, had not yet returned, and Jack asked Hugh, during
the morning, whether he thought that they would overtake the Indians who
had attacked Fox Eye.
"No," said Hugh, "I don't reckon they will. Those Indians had a big
start, and likely they saw the camp coming and knew that they would be
pursued, and have ridden clean out of the country. Of course it might be
such a thing as the man that Fox Eye wounded would die, and the other
two might hide his body somewhere, but I don't believe that these young
men that have followed them, will see anything at all of the Indians."
"I would like to have gone off with those fellows," said Jack.
"Yes," said Hugh, "I knew you wanted to, but there would have been no
sense in doing it; you'd just have had a long, hard ride, and maybe
broken down your horse, all for nothing. I have seen young men start off
like that more than fifty times I bet, and they hardly ever come back
with anything to show for the trouble they've had."
Toward the middle of the day, the soldiers who had started off the
afternoon before, began to come into the camp, stringing along one after
another, on tired, stumbling ponies. They reported that nothing had been
seen of the enemy, although they had ridden hard in the direction they
had taken, following the trail until after dark.
"There," said Hugh to Jack, "what did I tell you? You see they've just
had a wild goose chase, and haven't done anything at all. Now I'll tell
you what we'll do. You and Joe and me'll go out this afternoon, just
before sundown, and you and Joe take your bows and arrows, and we'll see
if we can't kill a bull."
Some time before this, Hugh had traded with one of the young men of the
camp, for a number of arrows, and Jack had been practicing with the
Assinaboine's bow and with these new arrows for some time, so that he
was now a pretty fair shot. When he had first obtained the bow, Joe had
made him some blunt-headed arrows, and the two boys, going out on the
prairie near the camp, had practised shooting until Jack was fairly
skillful, although, of course, he could not approach Joe in
marksmanship. His efforts to learn how to shoot had been a source of
great delight to the small boys of the camp, who enjoyed following him
about, laughing at his bad shooting, and then exhibiting to him their
own skill.
The accuracy with which these little shavers could use the bow was a
constant source of astonishment to Jack. They would watch him shoot at
his mark a few times, hailing each miss with derisive yells, and then
some naked little fellow, not half his height, would rush up to him,
gesticulating and pointing, and then, seemingly without effort or aim,
would plant three or four arrows in quick succession, in the very mark
that Jack had been missing.
At first their comments and their company greatly embarrassed and
disconcerted Jack, but he soon became accustomed to both, and rather
enjoyed the society of the noisy little throng.
Jack had also practised riding bareback, both on Pawnee and his new
horse, and had reached a point where, clad in moccasins and leggings, he
could gallop for half a day without feeling undue fatigue. Hugh had
advised him to begin on one of the buffalo running saddles, used by some
of the Indians; a square cushion of buckskin, stuffed with buffalo or
antelope hair, but without stirrups. Beginning with this, he had
gradually passed on to riding the naked horse, and now had a firm grip
with knee and calf, on the smooth sides of his mount.
Toward evening that day, the three started out and galloped swiftly up
the river, gradually turning into the low hills on its south side. They
had gone only three or four miles, when Hugh held up his hand and
bending low in the saddle, called their attention to a buffalo, whose
back was just visible over a near ridge. "Now, boys," he said, "we can
get up within fifty or seventy-five yards of that fellow, and then you
can try him. As soon as the bull starts, son, you want to put the quirt
on your horse and get up to him as quickly as you can, then shoot at him
just as you would if you were using a rifle, except that you want to
ride up nearly to his shoulders, before shooting. Let the arrow go in
square between the ribs and not slant forward. When you are too far
behind, the arrow is likely to strike a rib and just stick in his hide.
I expect Jack will get the first shot," he added, turning to Joe,
"because he's got the best horse, but I don't feel noways certain that
he'll kill, and you must do your best to get the buffalo, if he don't."
They trotted briskly up to the top of the ridge, and were on the crest
and within thirty yards of the game, before it saw them; then it dashed
off, but in a very short time, Jack was close to the animal's side, and
drawing the arrow to its head, he let fly. It was the first time he had
shot from a galloping horse, and he did not allow for the motion, so
that to his horror and shame, he missed the buffalo clean, the arrow
striking deep into the ground under its belly. As the bow twanged, his
horse made a lurch to the right and he lost his balance, and would have
fallen off if he had not caught the mane, and thus recovered himself.
Joe, on his slower horse, was bounding along close behind the buffalo,
but gaining on it very slowly, and Jack turning again, passed Joe and
once more drew up beside the bull. This time his luck was better, the
arrow struck the beast just behind the foreleg and low down. When the
horse turned, Jack was ready for him and did not lose his seat, but the
prick of the arrow angered the buffalo, which turned sharply and would
have caught his horse, if it had not sheered off just as it did. This
little delay enabled Joe to come up, and he planted an arrow in the
buffalo's side close to Jack's. The animal charged Joe as he had Jack,
but the horse easily avoided him. But now the bull was badly wounded and
angry, and stopped to fight. Hugh had come up, and the three sat on
their horses, fifteen or twenty yards away from the great beast, which
with head down and tail stuck stiffly up in the air, glared furiously at
them from under the heavy mat of brown hair, which overshadowed its
little eyes. Now and then it shook its head angrily, and its long beard
swept the prairie grass; but blood was flowing from its mouth and
nostrils, and both Hugh and Joe said it would soon fall. By this time
Jack had seen plenty of buffalo, but as he sat there and looked at this
enormous beast, it seemed to him that he had never beheld any creature
so terrifying.
The buffalo stood there for a few moments, ready to fight, then slowly
turned as if to run, tottered a few steps and fell on its knees.
"Well," said Hugh, "I guess, son, you and Joe will have to divide that
buffalo; 'pears to me from the way those arrows look, that you both
killed it."
"Well," said Jack, "the first shot I made, I didn't hit it at all. I
would not have thought I could shoot at an enormous animal like that, at
five or six yards distance, and miss it, but I did miss it clean. I'm
going back after we have butchered, to try and find that arrow."
The buffalo was a young bull, fat and in good order. They took his
tongue and the meat from the boss ribs, and packing it on Joe's horse,
set out for the camp again. On the way back they spent some little time
looking for Jack's arrow, which was finally found, sticking almost
straight up in the sand.