THE PAWNEES RETURN--ANTELOPE HUNT WITH THE INDIANS--JOE
MISSES--WHITE WOLF--TALK OF A WILD HORSE HUNT--THE
SAND-HILL CRANES--THEIR WEIRD COTILLION
THE Pawnees camped on the Oxhide that autumn earlier than usual, as one
of the boys of the tribe had said they would.
The band arrived the first week in September, and Joe was again in his
element. He spent every spare moment in the camp, but, much to his
regret, learned that his old friend Yellow Calf was dead; he had died
about a month before of sheer wearing out. He was nearer ninety than
eighty, which he had given as his age to Joe. One of the younger of the
principal men had been made chief in his place. He had been with the
band every season when they camped on the creek, and also was a firm
friend to Joe, so the boy had lost nothing except the presence of the
old fellow who thought so much of him.
One morning about the middle of April while the Indians were still on
the Oxhide, and Joe as usual was in the camp, a warrior came in and
reported a large herd of antelope on the Smoky Hill bottom; he said
there were at least eight hundred of them. He proposed to Joe that they
should go after them, and the boy agreed without any hesitation.
The chief told them they had better take about half a dozen of the men
with them; for if the antelope were out on the open prairie, they could
not get near enough to them without a great deal of trouble. If they had
some one to drive the herd toward them while they hid themselves in the
tall grass, they could entice a number within range by using the usual
strategy.
Joe and the Indian, whose name was the White Wolf, started, taking with
them seven men of the band as drivers. When they got out into the
opening beyond the timber on the Oxhide, they discovered the large herd
unsuspiciously grazing about two miles away.
The seven Indians were then ordered to make a détour far beyond the
animals, at least a mile from the far side of them, while Joe and White
Wolf secreted themselves in a large patch of bunch-grass. This was out
on the prairie about a hundred rods distant from the timber, and was
pointed to by White Wolf so that his men would understand exactly what
was required of them.
Joe and the Indian who had remained behind with him, then walked
leisurely toward the bunch of tall grass. They had plenty of time to
prepare themselves, as it would take at least an hour before the Indians
could get beyond the herd to move it.
On the way to the prairie Joe had stopped at the ranch, to borrow the
Spencer carbine for White Wolf, while he took his little Ballard rifle,
that was only good for about a hundred and fifty yards, while the
Spencer would carry a ball five hundred.
They reached their hiding-place in plenty of time, for they lay there
fully fifteen minutes before they saw a commotion among the antelope.
The herd were observed to raise their heads as if they winded danger,
and then making a few of their characteristic stiff-legged bounds, they
stood alert as if preparing for flight.
Joe knew by this that the animals had been startled by the Indians,
though he could not see a sign of one of them.
The herd at first ran as swiftly as they could in an easterly direction,
then they began to slacken their pace, and a few, having recovered their
courage, commenced to nibble gingerly at the short buffalo grass again.
At this juncture White Wolf tied a white rag around his head, and,
standing on his knees, began to sway his body backward and forward with
a steady oscillating motion. Presently the antelope saw him, and a few
of them stopped short to gaze at the strange object.
In a few moments four or five of the inquisitive creatures moved slowly
forward again, still attracted by the swaying white figure of the
savage, which so excited their curiosity. Presently, as they came closer
and closer, Joe told White Wolf not to fire until they came within range
of his little gun. Soon the proper distance was attained, and Joe,
drawing up his piece, said:--
"Now, White Wolf, fire away!"
Their pieces were discharged simultaneously; it seemed like a single
shot, so accurately had the triggers been pulled together. Two of the
graceful creatures rolled over on their sides, one White Wolf's,
instantly killed, while Joe's was sprawling out, every limb quivering
like an aspen leaf.
Both hunters dropped their guns and started out to cut the throats of
their game, Joe was in the act of placing his hand on the neck of the
one he had fired at, when, to his surprise, it jumped to its feet and
ran off to join its not faraway companions, and the astonished boy never
saw it again!
Which was the more surprised, the boy or the antelope, it would be
difficult to determine. He turned to the savage, who was bewildered,
too, and asked him what in the world was the cause of the animal's
recovery after he had shot him.
"I aimed at his heart as he stood broadside toward me," said Joe, "and I
don't know what it means."
"You only grazed him," answered White Wolf. "We Indians often catch wild
horses in that way, when we can't get them in any other." Of course,
they conversed in the Pawnee tongue, for the savage did not understand a
word of English.
"Oh! I know what you mean, White Wolf," said Joe. "I just grazed his
spinal cord with the ball; it paralyzed him for a moment, that's all.
Yellow Calf told me how the Pawnees used to catch wild horses in that
way, down on the Cimarron bottom, when the tribe lived on the Republican
River."
"I'm soon going down there with some of my warriors. A Kaw brave told me
the other day that there are a good many wild horses there yet; will you
go, too?" asked White Wolf of his young friend.
"I'll go if my father and mother are willing, and I guess they will be,"
replied Joe. "I should so like to see a herd of wild horses. I have seen
nearly all the other animals that live on the plains and in the timber,
but have never seen wild horses, because they don't range as far east as
Oxhide Creek. There are lots of them in Nebraska though, farther north,
Mr. Tucker says."
As the prairie was too level for the hunters to hope to get near the
antelope again, now that they had discharged their pieces, and as the
other Indians were coming up to them, they decided to go back.
One of White Wolf's men packed the dead antelope on his horse, and they
all rode slowly toward Errolstrath. When they arrived there, White Wolf
insisted that Joe take half of the game. To this at first the boy did
not agree, but as the chief insisted so persistently, he finally
consented. So the antelope was divided fairly, one portion was carried
into the house, and the other to the Indian camp down the creek.
At dinner Joe told his father that White Wolf was going to the Cimarron
bottom in a few days to try to capture some wild horses which, so he
learned from one of his Kaw friends, were roaming on the salt marshes of
that region, and that the chief wanted him to go with him.
Mr. Thompson said that he had not the slightest objection now that the
war was over and there was nothing to be feared from the savages, but he
told Joe that if any animals were captured, he ought to be entitled to a
share.
"I have made that all right with White Wolf already, father," said Joe.
"He agrees to give me as great a proportion as his other warriors are
entitled to. He hopes to capture at least one apiece, as the Kaw who
told him about the herd said there were three or four hundred of them
down there."
As soon as dinner was over, Joe jumped on his pony and loped off to the
Indian camp to tell White Wolf that he could go to hunt wild horses with
the band.
The chief said that he was glad of it, and that they would start by the
first of the week. It was now Thursday, and that would give them all
plenty of time to make ready. He told Joe that he would let him have a
pony out of his herd, so that he could save his own the hard trip, for
there would be severe work for all the ponies.
Joe started back to the ranche, and when he arrived at the foot of
Haystack Mound, on the side of it farthest from the corral, he saw a
squadron of sand-hill cranes circling around near the ground, and as he
knew they were going to alight, he pulled up his pony. After turning
loose his animal, which he knew would run right to the corral, he hid
himself in the plum bushes which grew all over the bottom, to watch the
strange antics of those curious birds.
They dance a regular cotillion when on the ground. They chassez
backward and forward, and waltz around, keeping time in a rude sort of
way as they go through the mazes of their weird movements.
Presently they all came fluttering down, about forty of them, and
immediately began their laughable capers. Joe had witnessed their
performance a hundred times, but he could never resist looking at it
again whenever the opportunity offered. They danced for more than half
an hour, and then seeming to have enjoyed themselves sufficiently, they
took flight, and soon were but as a wreath of dark blue far up in the
sky.
Joe returned to the house, and puttered around until supper was ready.
At the table he told of his stopping at Haystack Mound to witness the
antics of a flock of cranes that had alighted on the sand knoll near
there, and said he could sit and look at them all day.
Of course all the family had witnessed the performance of the cranes
often, for in the season scarcely a day passed that a flock did not make
its appearance somewhere on the ranche.
Kate said, "I used to watch them on the Canadian when I was in the
Indian village, and they were about the only things that I laughed at
while there. After I had been there about a month and had got pretty
well acquainted, one of the boys gave me a young crane for a pet. He
became so tame that he would follow me all over the village.
"I kept him three months, when one morning, as I was walking down to the
river with him, I saw him suddenly stop, put his head on one side, look
up at the sky, and running a few steps, fly away. I watched him until he
was out of sight. It was a flock of his own species that he had seen,
and I did not even begin to hear their croaking until he was far out of
sight."