TWO WAR-PARTIES
That was a time of uncommon interest and excitement to the entire Nez
Perce hunting village. They had plenty to eat and to drink, and some of
them had received presents, and the prospect ahead seemed to brighten a
little. By nightfall all the warriors were returned from accompanying
the mining party, and it was a time for a grand smoke. Some of them had
begged Yellow Pine for "fire-water," but not a drop had been obtained.
Instead of it they had been informed,
"We're not jest that kind of white men. There isn't a pint of
tangle-foot in this 'ere outfit. Ef I want to murder a feller I'll take
a rifle to him and do the job clean. I won't go around the bush and
massacre him with a whiskey-jug."
The red men understood perfectly well that there was no "fire-water,"
but that was all they gathered. Plenty of smoking tobacco they did
obtain, and it was a grand addition to the dignity of their "council,"
if every half-naked brave with a pipe in his mouth had a right to
consider himself a councillor. They all smoked, and they all wondered
what it was best to do next, and they all said so, and every brave among
them regretted that it was out of the question for them to acquire
possession of the quadrupeds ridden and driven by Judge Parks and his
men. The Big Tongue and a few of the younger braves even went so far as
to "talk war," but the wiser heads merely grunted at the suggestions
volunteered. The Big Tongue had much to say to the smokers nearest him
concerning a pale-face warrior whose scalp was among his own treasures.
Ha-ha-pah-no was not there to make any sly remarks as to how he actually
obtained such a trophy as that and some others on which his reputation
as a warrior mainly rested. They sat up until they had smoked all the
wisdom out of several pipes of tobacco to each warrior, but did not seem
to be any nearer a conclusion. The camp was under the special charge of
One-eye, but that dog was becoming quiet and solemn. His especial master
had departed, he knew not whither. All the bones in camp now belonged to
him, and he had no time to bury so much as one of them. He was not fond
of tobacco, and as soon as the smoking began he walked out of camp to
patrol the edge of the woods and to keep all the eye left him on duty
against possible intruders. He had no faith in a country which was
evidently infested by pale-faces.
If he had known more about that valley and the region into which it
led, he would have had an even worse opinion of it. The fact that it
contained a large stream of water had already suggested many things to
the experienced mind of Long Bear. All such water, he well knew, kept on
running, no matter what might be its crooks and turnings. If he and his
braves could have followed that stream far enough while they were
smoking and talking over plans, they might have reached a place where it
turned a corner of the mountains and was joined by another and larger
stream. The two in partnership were able to float a canoe. There was no
canoe afloat there, but there was something yet more important away on
down, a pretty long way, below the fork made by the junction of the two
streams. There was a camp occupied by red warriors only, without one
squaw to be seen in it, and it was therefore the camp of a "war-party."
It was accompanied by a large drove of ponies, horses, and mules, and
some of these had saddles and others carried packs. These were signs
that the war-party had been successful and that pale-faces had been the
sufferers. Every quadruped visible wore an air of being more or less
fatigued, in token of having been driven or ridden both fast and far.
From this it might have been gathered that these red men, however
successful had been their expedition, believed or feared that they were
followed by somebody whom they preferred to get away from. All these
signs told the exact truth; it was also true that some pains had been
taken to discover whether or not the supposed pursuit continued.
At the very hour when One-eye was making the best use he could of the
bright moonshine in front of his own camp, and knew nothing at all about
this other, a tall man stood in the deep shadow of a pine-tree, miles
and miles down stream from the resting-place of the war-party. The
bridle of a horse hung over his right arm, but the animal stood as
motionless as did his master, and both were intently watching a dark
shape that rode nearer and could be seen more and more clearly, and that
paused at last upon the river-bank within thirty yards. Just as it did
so there came from under the shadow of the pine-tree a flash and a sharp
report, and all the upper part of the dark shape on the bank fell
suddenly to the earth, uttering a loud, fierce yell.
"Got him!" was shouted from under the pine-tree, and the man walked out,
leading his horse, while instantly there could be heard the sound of
galloping hoofs beyond him. In a minute or so more a stern, hoarse voice
rang out.
"Halt! What is it, Garry?"
"Got him, captain. 'Nother of them 'Paches. He won't carry back no news.
Dead as a mackerel. Reckon they can't be far away now."
"We've taken pretty good care of their scouts, anyhow."
"Jest so many the less to fight when we come up with 'em. They'll
outnumber us bad enough, I reckon, best we can make of it."
"Back to camp, Garry. Corporal Peters, take the same post, with two men.
There may be more of them."
"All right, captain."
There was a little more talking done, but these seemed to be a somewhat
quiet set of men. There were six of them besides the captain. They were
all dressed in blue, and wore brass buttons and carried short-barrelled
carbines and sabres. A good look at them would have recalled to the mind
of Two Arrows all the arguments he had ever heard as to the wisdom of
keeping the peace with the pale-faces. When they reached the camp, after
"changing the guard" at Garry's river-side post, it was easy to see that
their entire force consisted of several times as many men of the same
sort. Every man was on his feet, wide awake and waiting for orders. One
squad of five stood with each man's hand upon the bridle of a saddled
horse, ready to mount, just as the first squad must have been, when it
heard the warning report of Garry's carbine. A company of United States
cavalry, veteran Indian fighters, following a "hot trail," keeps itself
wonderfully ready for action. It is not easy to take such men by
surprise. Now, however, at the word of command, all was instantly quiet
again. The actual meaning of the alarm was rapidly told from man to man,
and several remarked:
"Good for Garry! We'll catch 'em yet."
All who had a right to go to sleep, did so as unconcernedly as if they
had been in a hotel. On the whole, it looked as if something else than
peace were on its way into the valley where One-eye was keeping watch
for the smokers. The last man to lie down was the captain, and one of
the wide-awake squad nodded at him and said to another,
"If there was forty alarms 'fore sun-up, old Grover'd be the first man
to turn out every time."
"Not much reg'lation 'bout him."
"But there's lots of fight."
"He can get more hard work out of men and hosses, and he can do more
himself, and he can sleep less, and say less about it all, than any
other captain I ever served under."
That, therefore, was the kind of soldiers from whom the Apaches were
wisely trying to get away, and Garry's carbine had destroyed their
prospect of learning how very near he and his might be. It looked very
much as if two days more of hard riding would bring them into a sort of
trap, with the mountains before and the cavalry behind. Still, even
then, there would be the pass, if they knew where to find it. There
also were One-eye and all of his men and Sile Parks and his party; and
the wicked old mule, too, with his command, was in the valley somewhere.
Only a few days earlier the entire sweep of forest and "open and
mountain-side" had been unoccupied by anything more dangerous or more
interesting than wild game and the wild animals that fed on it. It is
very curious how suddenly immigrants will sometimes pour into a new
country if there is a good trail pointing out the way.
The spot chosen by Yellow Pine for the camp of the mining party was by a
dancing little brook which came down from the mountain to the right of
them, and the path by which they travelled that day had barely kept them
outside of the rocky slopes. Some coyotes came prowling around, to yelp
over the faint smell of roasted meat that floated out to them from the
camp-fires. Once during the night the cry of a wandering cougar came
wailing through the silence and was followed by that of a horned owl who
had noiselessly flapped near enough to blink his great eyes at the
blaze. For all that, it was the loneliest kind of a place, and the hours
went by until sunrise without the smallest real disturbance or hint of
perils to come.
Judge Parks himself was on the watch in the first gray of dawn, and the
camp was dim enough even after there were rosy tints upon the distant
mountain summits. He stood gazing at these and leaning upon his rifle,
when Yellow Pine walked out to take his customary survey of matters.
"We're going to have a fine day, jedge."
"Splendid weather. Pine, just think of all this magnificent country as
it will be when it's settled. Farms, towns, villages, mines, railways,
factories--"
"There won't be any game, then, or any red Indians, either."
"There isn't a finer country in all the world. The new time is coming,
Pine."
"Of course it is. Our mine's coming first thing. We'll get there 'fore
sundown. Wish I knew what else was coming."
"Afraid of anything?"
"Got a curious feeling in my back. Always have it when there's something
up. It's as much like the rheumatiz as it is like anything."
"Guess that's what it is, then."
"I dunno 'bout that. I've had all sorts of things happen when I had this
'ere feeling onto me."
"Exactly, Pine. I've had dinner happen to me a good many times just when
I had a sort of feeling it was coming. Soon as I got right down hungry I
knew it was a sure sign. I say, look at those boys."
"Going a-fishing. I'd call it--Well, it's a good thing for 'em to do.
They can't miss bringing in a good string. Sile, see here."
"Halloo!"
"Get back with some for breakfast if you can. We'll be right here till
the critters have done feeding. Catch a heap."
"All right," shouted Sile. "He says the water's full of 'em."
"Of course it is."
"Sile," said his father, "don't throw away your time on fly-fishing. Use
bait, and pull 'em right in. They'll bite."
"I'm going to spoon for 'em. Can't find any bait."
"Never mind, jedge," said Pine. "I've seen trout in some of these
mountain streams jump for a bare hook quick as it tetched the water.
There's too many on 'em, and they get the hungriest kind."
"They won't mind much what they jump at, that's sure. I must say I'd
like some for breakfast, though."
Yellow Pine and the judge had other matters on hand, and the latter had
a short nap to take, after his "watch." The animals had to be cared for,
moreover, before any mere human being had a right to be fed.
The first noise that was made in camp brought Na-tee-kah and
Ha-ha-pah-no out of their tent, comb and brush in hand. They both made
sure of their ribbons and that all was in order before they had a word
to say to anybody. It could not be denied that they were a very bright
looking and highly ornamented pair, Ha-ha-pah-no being perhaps a little
ahead.