UTES AGAINST SNAKES.
“The trail is hot now!” cried Buffalo Bill, as the sight of the distant
plains met his eyes once more and he saw the stones yet damp where the
water had dripped from the Indians’ horses as they had crossed and
emerged from a brook. “We’ll soon have the rascals before us, and then
we’ll have the girls and teach the redskins a lesson they badly need.
We’ll give them a hot time if we can do it without risking the girls’
lives.”
“There’s a hot time going on already. Look down there!” said Wild Bill,
who was ahead and had halted on the crest of a steep descent.
He pointed to the valley, where all who were up to him could now see
that a terrible Indian fight was going on.
“Good!” cried Buffalo Bill. “It’s dog eat dog. We’ll let them fight it
out, and then we’ll settle with the winners.”
“But the girls? Where are they?” asked Mainwaring anxiously.
“Hidden away, most likely, while the fight is going on. They are not
there, so far as I can see.”
He had been looking over the scene through his field glasses.
“If we had any men we could spare or risk I’d like to take a hand in
that fight,” the border king remarked, after a few moments. “Those are
Snakes who are fighting the Utes, and they’re getting the worst of it,
too--but that’s not our lookout. The Utes have got the girls--that we
know quite well--and they have most likely hidden them up here in the
hills somewhere under guard.”
“Let us look for them!” said Mainwaring eagerly.
“Not till we see how the fight ends; then we can be ready to play our
own hand,” replied Buffalo Bill quietly.
“Look back, pard, and tell me what that means!” exclaimed Wild Bill,
whose eyes, ever wandering about, had caught sight of several columns
of smoke rising away to the north.
“It’s a conundrum to me,” said the king of the scouts. “It may be
Indians signaling or smoke made by those white ruffians, the Death
Riders. Their chief hangout, Nick’s Cavern, is over in that direction!”
He turned again to watch the fight going on below.
“Those Snakes fight well, but they’ll be clean whipped,” he said, after
a while. “The Utes are too many for them and they’re fighting better.
There’ll be a big feast for the crows and the coyotes.”
“A good thing, too!” growled old Nick Wharton. “The fewer live Injuns
on the plains the better.”
“Hello! Look up there! Ho, they’re gone!” suddenly cried Mainwaring,
pointing to a cliff far over to the right of the party, fully two miles
away.
“What’s gone? Your senses?” asked Buffalo Bill, noticing how wildly the
young rancher gazed at the place where he himself could see nothing but
bleak, bare rock.
“No, no--the girls! I saw them plainly over there on that rock; and it
seemed as if a party of men was hurrying on with them!” said Mainwaring.
“I think you must have been mistaken, or some one else would have seen
them, too,” replied Buffalo Bill. “They could hardly have got out of
sight so soon, either, for you see there is neither tree nor bush on
that rock.”
“I certainly did see them, and they disappeared so quickly that it
looked as if they had sunk right down into the earth.”
“I’ve had just such visions,” said the border king, smiling. “And it
was when I was in love, too.”
“It was no vision; it was real,” persisted Mainwaring.
“Well, after the fight is over down there we’ll see what we can find in
the way of tracks up there,” said the king of the scouts.
Then, his face all aglow with pleasure, he cried:
“Here’s some news coming for us now! Here are the men we sent to meet
the soldiers coming back!”
He spoke truly. The two scouts who had communicated with Steve Hathaway
and the troops were hurrying toward him, having sent up smoke signals
to hasten the soldiers forward.
Their report decided Buffalo Bill to remain where he was until the
cavalry got up, but to satisfy Mainwaring he suggested that the latter
should take a couple of fresh men and go over to the cliff to see
whether he could find any tracks where he said he had seen the two
girls.
Norfolk Ben, however, volunteered to go, and Mainwaring said he would
take him and let the scouts remain.
As Buffalo Bill had no belief that there was really any one where
Mainwaring said he had seen people he made no objection to this
arrangement. He did not know that the young rancher was really rushing
into deadly danger, or he would not have let him go out of his sight.
But his attention was soon drawn away from the fighting Indians and
everything else by the sight of the carbines and sabers of cavalrymen
glittering in the pass to the north, and he rode up to greet Captain
Meinhold and Lieutenant Lawson, and to take Steve Hathaway by the hand
and tell him that he had done nobly and well.
“I did my level best, mate,” replied Steve. “I had my life to pay for.
Now that I’ve done it, I suppose I’ll be no more use to you.”
“Yes, Steve, you will. I’ll enroll you in my band of scouts of the
Department of the Platte, if you wish, and you can ride and fight
alongside of me if it suits you. If it doesn’t, I’ll do anything else I
can to help you. All you’ve got to do is to say what you want, and you
shall have it if I can get it for you.”
“Thank you, Bill. I know I’m not deserving of much in the way of
kindness after the life I’ve led, but I’ll try to turn over a new leaf,
and we’ll see how things work out as we go along. Has there been much
of a fight down there?”
“I reckon there has, and it isn’t over yet. If they keep on for a while
longer there won’t be much more of them left than there was of the
Kilkenny cats after their scrap.”
“What are they?”
“Snakes and Utes. They’re both just crazy to fight each other, and
always were since I’ve known anything about them. Captain Meinhold, you
had better let your command rest and feed till it’s over down there,
and then we can sail in and finish the job. I see the Utes are getting
the upper hand, and it’s them I want to settle with. We’ve traced the
two captives we want to rescue to their trail, and they’ll have to give
them up or go under.”
The captain was only too glad to take the chance to rest his men and
horses, and the necessary orders were at once given, while he and his
lieutenant, through their field glasses, watched the fight which was
still going on down below.
The Snakes were fast becoming disheartened, for their foes were
not only nearly double their number, but better armed and better
disciplined. The Utes fought as if they were directed with better
generalship than the red man usually has to give.
As a matter of fact, Bear Killer had a great deal of military skill,
and he was excelling himself now, for he was fighting under the eyes of
the white girl whose love and admiration he wanted to win.
As the Snake braves fell or tried to retreat out of the battle the Utes
redoubled their efforts, until in a short time the fight seemed to the
gallant officers who were looking on little better than a massacre.
“It really seems to me that it would be a mercy for us to interfere
now,” said Captain Meinhold, turning to Buffalo Bill and Wild Bill, who
were watching the battle, like himself.
“A mercy to the Snakes, but not to ourselves, captain,” replied Buffalo
Bill. “The Utes are very strong yet. Every one who falls strengthens
us, and the Snakes, knowing they need expect no quarter, will account
for a good many more of them yet before they all go under.”
“Yes; and the Utes are so hot now that they wouldn’t stop if they
could, and they couldn’t if they would. They are like tigers who have
tasted blood,” said Wild Bill. “They’d pitch into us in a minute unless
they had a little time to cool off.”
“Well, we’ll have our horses ready,” said the captain. “One thing is
quite certain--it can’t last much longer.”
He was right. The Snakes were almost all slain, and the few remaining
ones were completely disheartened. They only kept up their resistance
so that they might die with weapons in their hands.
“That warrior’s a great fighter!” exclaimed Buffalo Bill, as he saw a
Snake Indian, evidently a chief, dismounted and fighting hand to hand
with five or six of the enemy--only falling when struck from behind
with a tomahawk after he had slain three of his foes.
It was the last of the leader of the Snakes, and soon after he fell the
sole survivor of the Snake braves drove his own knife home to his heart
rather than let a Ute do it.
Then the fierce yells of victory rose louder than ever from the throats
of the victorious Utes.
But suddenly these were hushed.
For Bear Killer and his warriors--his brother had been slain in the
battle--saw the troops drawn up in line on the hill, their arms and
accouterments glittering in the noonday sun, and the scouts, under
Buffalo Bill, on their flank.
It looked as if another battle was going to be fought, with fresh and
well-armed soldiers against braves who were tired with a long and
bloody fight, and most of them wounded in addition.
“Now’s the time to wipe them out, captain!” cried Wild Bill, eager to
dash forward.
“I’d like to see whether we can’t get them to give up the girls without
a fight first,” said Buffalo Bill. “If they saw that there was no
chance they would be sure to kill them.”
“My orders are to save the captives, if I can,” said the captain. “That
is the first consideration.”
“Then let me try a palaver with the Ute chief,” suggested Buffalo Bill.
“Certainly--try it first, by all means.”
Wild Bill and some of the other men looked disappointed at this
decision, for their hearts had been set on a fight, and they thought
they had the Indians at their mercy.
But when they saw Buffalo Bill borrow a spear from one of the Pawnee
“friendlies” in his band of scouts and tie a white handkerchief on the
end of it they realized that the matter was going to be settled by
talking instead of by fighting, if it was possible.
The arrangements were soon made. Buffalo Bill, with the truce flag,
dashed boldly down the hill, followed more slowly by Captain Meinhold
and Wild Bill, the lieutenant holding the company ready to charge if a
sign of treachery on the part of the Indians demanded it.
The Utes, at first astounded at this unexpected demonstration in their
rear, were now seen to gather for consultation, and when Buffalo Bill
was well down the hill toward them three of them were seen to ride out
from the rest.
The first was Bear Killer himself, and a little to his rear, on his
right and left, rode two Ute braves.
The one on his right carried a rather dirty-looking white flag.
Buffalo Bill planted the spear with his flag on it in the earth, and
sat motionless on his horse close by, until the Ute brave, leaving his
chief behind, dashed forward and planted their flag by the first.
Then, seeing that Buffalo Bill neither dismounted nor put down his
weapons, the Ute chief rode forward armed and bloodstained from the
recent battle.