GREAT SCOUTING
The quadrupeds of the mining expedition showed many signs of the hard
time they had been having, and it was needful to get out from among the
rocks quickly. It was yet quite shadowy in the deep canon when the
wagons were set in motion, but not a great deal of "road mending" was
called for from that point onward. Early in the day they came out upon
the level, and before noon the horses and mules were picking the rich
grass around the ancient ruins.
It was a grand time, and Sile had a dim idea that he only drew his
breath now and then, the great, long ones came so frequently. He had
felt one kind of awe in the canon and in looking at the mountain peaks.
Now he felt quite another kind of awe in looking at the rude mason-work
of those houses.
"Father," he asked, "do you s'pose they were people anything like us?"
"They built three-story houses. No Indians ever did that."
"Is there nothing at all about them in history?"
"Yes, here are the ruins. Here are little books like this."
He handed Sile what looked for all the world like a broken piece of an
old pot, and Sile said so.
"That's it. If it is one, it shows that they understood making pottery.
Nobody has ever found anything to prove that they were miners, and all
the stones of these houses are only broken. None of them are cut or
trimmed."
It was a wonder of wonders to stand there and talk about a lost and
vanished people, but Yellow Pine was thinking of a people who had
vanished without being lost. They were the Indians whose camp-grounds he
had moved into and out of, and he had an idea that they might be found
again at any hour. He advised the judge not to move on again until some
exploring and scouting should have been done. Meantime the "critters,"
as he called them, did their feeding under a strong guard and close
watching.
"Sile," he said, "as soon as your horse has had a good feed, you and I
will ride a circuit and see what we can find."
Sile's blood danced a little. Scouting after Indians was a thing he had
read about, and he did not dwell too much upon the fact that he was
chosen to go with Pine rather because his horse was a fast one and had
not pulled wagons than for any reason. Pine said to him,
"Your eyes are pretty good ones, too. Who knows but what you might see
something. Jedge, I won't run him into any danger. Them Indians is all
on foot."
Sile set to work at once upon his repeating-rifle, his revolver, and the
edge of his hunting-knife, as if he had a battle with Pawnees on hand.
He gave up studying the ruins at once, and even forgot how many nuggets
his gold had been run into. He had never before felt precisely that kind
of excitement, and was too young to know that every entirely new
enthusiasm is worth a whole book in the way of education, if it comes
rightly. People who have never been waked up are apt to be dull people.
It was an old story to Yellow Pine, and when at last they both were
mounted and ready to ride away, it was worth while to look at his
cast-iron face and then at that of Sile Parks.
"Sile," said his father, as he looked at him, "bring me in some Indians;
not a whole tribe; just a few."
"Come on, Sile," said Pine. "We'll bring all we find, I reckon."
He showed no disposition to ride fast, but cantered away to the right,
skirting the edge of the mountain slope, and seeming to study every
clump of trees and bushes they came to. It was mostly grassy "open" for
quite a distance from the mouth of the canon.
"No smoke anywhere," said Pine. "They're not camped hereaway."
"I walked out along their trail, at the ruins," said Sile. "Why didn't
you follow it?"
"That's a fair question, Sile. It looks as if I'd orter ha' done it, but
you see, I don't want to ketch up with 'em or let 'em know we're here. I
want to find 'em without telling 'em what road I kem by."
It was a sort of half-Indian cunning, but it was not quite equal to the
needs of the matter. Full-blooded Indian cunning beat it all to pieces,
as they were to find out before morning. It came to pass in a perfectly
easy and natural sort of way.
When the entire band of Nez Perces had arrived, and every soul in it had
taken a look at the dead grisly, they had no notion of walking back a
single rod. The braves had noted the indications of running water in the
distance, and they pushed on until they found a camp-ground on the
border of a swift, bright stream, almost alive with trout. It was
bordered by a wide band of forest, and the trees were magnificent. Here
at last they could all sit down in a kind of peace and plenty, and mourn
for their dogs and ponies.
Two Arrows had no mourning to do. What he really needed was to be
hooped, like a barrel, for fear his pride and ambition might burst him.
He felt as if he were about ten feet high and weighed more than a horse.
All the other Indians he had heard of were nothing at all to what he
was or was pretty soon going to be. He almost despised cougars and even
grislies until he recalled how he had felt when the open jaws of the one
which had hunted him came up over the curve of the bowlder.
It occurred to him that he had better have a rock or something to help
him next time, but his vanity suggested that after all he had invented
that rock. The other Indian boys hardly felt like speaking to him, and
Na-tee-kah called him to supper as respectfully as if he had been a
full-grown warrior. He felt like one, and as if the camp were too small
for him; so he walked out of it after supper, and his feet carried him
farther. They seemed to have an idea of their own that it would be good
for him to take another look at the bowlder where he had been watched
for by the grisly. A thorough understanding of that matter might have
taken him down a little, but he was to have better medicine yet before
he again reached his father's lodge. He had his bow and arrows with him
but no lance, and it was getting too dusky for hunting. The ground he
was walking over was pretty level but it had its hollows, and as he came
up out of one of these he suddenly dropped flat upon the grass. He had
not been hurt, but he had seen something that in a manner knocked him
down. It was the biggest surprise he had had since he came through the
canon, for two pale-faces on horseback were cantering along at no great
distance. They had not seen him, he was sure of that, although they were
evidently looking for something. He let them pass and go on until he
felt safe in following. Every nerve in his body tingled with fierce
excitement.
"War-path!" he exclaimed. "Ugh! Two Arrows a brave now. Get horse. Big
warrior. Grow a heap. Find pale-face camp."
Running, walking, creeping, as the mists of evening deepened, the young
Nez Perce followed those two horsemen, cunningly avoiding all detection.
He followed them to the edge of the rocky ground at the foot of the
mountain slope, and there he saw them turn to the left.
"Know now," he muttered. "Pale-face came through canon. Follow Nez
Perce. Got plenty horse. Two Arrows great brave. Ugh!"
He should have gone for help and have performed the rest of his task in
older company, but he was full to over-flowing with the vanity of
winning another "heap" of glory. He felt entirely competent to deal with
one band of white men, and to carry all their horses into his own camp.
His rapid successes had been too much for him, and it is sometimes very
nearly the same with young fellows of a different color.
He lost sight of his human game several times, and it was now pretty
dark, but his keen eyes caught the glow of camp-fires at last, and he
knew what that meant. What he did not know was that Yellow Pine and Sile
had ridden a wide circuit across that open and had discovered no sign
of danger.
"Them Indians," said Pine, as they were riding in, "have gone on to the
timber. They can't have the least idee that we're here, on the ground
they passed over. To-morrer we must make another scout, though I sha'n't
be easy till I know jest what kind of neighbors we're to have."
That was common-sense, and so was the extreme care with which the
quadrupeds were gathered and hobbled and "corralled" between the
protecting masses of the ruins. The members of the mining party were
already divided into "watches," taking regular turns, and Sile and a man
named Jonas were in the first watch with Yellow Pine. That gave him a
chance for an unbroken sleep when his work was done. What was also good,
it gave him a rest to get sleepy in, and to let all the steam of his
excitement get away from his head. He ate well, and he felt somewhat
weary afterwards, but there was a queer idea growing in his mind that he
was in the neighborhood of strange Indians, and that nobody could tell
what might turn up.
"Pine," said he, "if I see an Indian shall I kill him?"
"Yell first, and get out of his way, unless he holds out his hand and
says 'How?' But you won't have any chance this night."