BUFFALO AND THEIR USES.
If the Cheyennes had been on a regular hunt they would have killed
scores of the mighty beasts before desisting from their bloody work; but
buffalo were too valuable to the Plains Indian to be wasted, or killed
for mere sport. In fact, their very existence, at that time, depended
upon these animals. Not only did their flesh form the chief and almost
the sole article of Indian food, but with the skins they covered their
lodges, and made boats, ropes, lariats, trunks, or _par fleche_ sacks,
saddles, shields, frames for war bonnets, gloves, moccasins, leggings,
shirts, gun-covers, whips, quivers, knife-scabbards, cradles,
saddle-bags and blankets, beds, bridles, boots, glue, and a score of
other necessary articles.
From the hair they made ropes and pillows; while the horns provided them
with spoons, cups, dishes, powder-flasks, arrow-heads, and even bows.
Buffalo sinews gave the Indians thread and twine for innumerable
purposes; while certain of the bones were fashioned into axes, knives,
arrow-points, and implements for scraping the hides or dressing robes.
The ribs were formed into small dog sledges, and the teeth into
necklaces and rattles. Buffalo chips were a most important article of
fuel on the almost treeless plains, and this is only a partial list of
the useful articles furnished to the Indians by this animal. At that
time buffalo roamed, in countless thousands, from the Missouri River to
the Rocky Mountains, and from Mexico up into British America. Since then
they have been ruthlessly slaughtered and exterminated by skin-butchers,
emigrants, and an army of so-called sportsmen from all parts of the
world.
While the hunters were cutting up the cow they had killed, the rest of
the party went into camp on the bank of the stream, near which the vast
herd had been feeding. Here Wolf-Tongue's wound, that had only been
rudely bandaged to check the flow of blood, was carefully dressed and
attended to.
There was no lack of food in the camp that evening, and the warriors
were evidently determined to make up for their days of hard riding and
fighting on scanty rations, by indulging in a regular feast.
Glen was disgusted to see the liver and kidneys of the buffalo eaten
raw, as was also a quantity of the meat while it was yet warm. Still
there was plenty of cooked meat for those who preferred it. Over small
fires, carefully screened by robes and blankets, so that their light
should not attract attention, ribs were roasted and choice bits were
broiled. Even the prisoner was unbound and allowed to cut and broil for
himself until he could eat no more.
Wolf-Tongue's wounded leg was smeared with melted tallow; and, though it
was so lame and stiff that he could not use it, his appetite was in no
wise impaired by his wound, nor did it dampen his high spirits in the
least. It rather added to them; for, as he ate buffalo meat raw or
cooked, as it was handed to him, at the same time laughing and chatting
with those of the younger warriors who were nearest his own age, he felt
that an honorable wound had been the only thing needed to crown the
glories of this, his first warpath. Now he would indeed be greeted as a
hero upon his return to the village. He felt more assured than ever that
he would be allowed to keep the fine name of "Wolf-Tongue." Perhaps, but
it was only just within the range of possibility, the head men might
commemorate at once his success as a scout, and the fact that he had
received a wound in battle, by conferring upon him the distinguished
name of "Lame Wolf." Such things had been known. Why might they not
happen to him?
When the feasting was ended, and the entire band began to feel that to
sleep would be far better than to eat any more, they extinguished their
fires and moved noiselessly away, a hundred yards or so, from the place
where they had been. Here in the tall grass, at the foot of the
cottonwood-trees, or in red willow thickets, the tired warriors laid
down, each man where he happened to be when he thought he had gone far
enough for safety. Each drew his blanket over his head, and also over
the rifle that was his inseparable bedfellow. The ponies had already
been securely fastened, so that they could be had when wanted, and now
they were either lying down or standing motionless with drooping heads.
The camp was as secure as an Indian camp ever is, where every precaution
is taken to guard against surprise, except the simple one of keeping
awake.
Wolf-Tongue, who was unable to touch his foot to the ground, was carried
to his sleeping-place with his arms about the necks of two of his
stalwart friends. Now, with Glen's rifle clasped tightly to him, and
with his head completely enveloped in a blanket, he was fast forgetting
his pain in sleep.
Poor Glen was forced to lie without any blanket, either over or under
him, with his wrists bound together, and with one of his arms fastened,
by a short cord, to an arm of one of the scouts who had captured him.
The latter fell asleep almost instantly, as was proved by his breathing;
but it was impossible for the prisoner, weary as he was, to do so. His
mind was too busily engaged in revolving possible means of escape. For a
long time he lay with wide-open eyes, dismissing one project after
another as they presented themselves. Finally he decided that, unless he
could first free his hands and then release his arm from the cord that
bound him to the scout, he could do nothing.
To accomplish the first of these objects, he began to gnaw, very softly,
at the raw-hide thong by which his wrists were secured. How tough and
hard it was. How his jaws ached after he had worked for an hour or more,
without accomplishing his purpose. Still he could feel that his efforts
were not altogether fruitless. He knew that he could succeed if he were
only given time enough.
He was obliged to take several rests, and his work was often interrupted
by hearing some wakeful Indian get up and walk about. Twice the scout
wakened, and pulled at the cord fastened to his prisoner's arm to assure
himself that he was still there.
At length the task was concluded, the hateful thong was bitten in two,
and Glen's hands were free. They were cold, numb, and devoid of feeling;
but after a while their circulation was gradually restored, and the boy
began to work at the knot that secured the cord about his arm. It was a
hard one to untie, but in this, too, he finally succeeded. Just as it
loosened beneath Glen's fingers, the scout woke and gave the cord a
pull. Fortunately the boy still held it, and the other was satisfied
that his prisoner was still beside him. Glen hardly dared breathe until
he felt certain that the Indian again slept. Then he fastened the cord
to a bit of willow, that grew within reach, in order that there might be
some resistance if the scout should pull at it again, and cautiously
rose to his feet.
Which way should he go? How should he avoid stepping on some recumbent
form if he moved at all? For a moment he stood irresolute. Well,
whatever he did he must do quickly, for the short summer night was far
advanced. He had not a moment to lose. If he only dared take a pony! If
he could drive them all off and leave his pursuers without a horse on
which to follow him! It was a thought worthy of a Cheyenne scout, and
Glen realized in a moment that, hazardous as the undertaking would be,
it offered the only means of ultimate escape. He thought he knew where
the horses were, and began to move with the utmost caution, feeling his
way inch by inch, in that direction.
Twice he just discovered a motionless human form in time to avoid
stumbling over it, and each time his heart seemed to leap into his mouth
with the narrowness of his escape. Several times, too, he changed his
course in order to avoid some real or fancied obstacle, until at length
he was completely bewildered, and obliged to confess that he had no idea
of what direction he was taking. Still he kept on, trembling with
nervousness, until at length he felt certain that he must be at least
well outside the circle of sleeping Indians, if not at a considerable
distance from them. He began to move more rapidly, when suddenly a human
figure rose up before him, so close that he could not avoid it. He
sprang at it with a blind fury, hoping to overthrow it, and still effect
his escape. Then there came a wild cry, a deafening report, and Glen
found himself engaged in a furious struggle with an unknown antagonist.