THE BUNDLE OF SAGE BRUSH
"By the way," said Lieutenant Perkins, before they had gone many steps
on their road, "who is this young fellow, Winged Arrow, or whatever you
call him, anyway? Was he richly dressed?"
"I don't see what his clothes had to do with that," said Arthur. "Of
course he was richly dressed, if it took the last cent he had. An
Indian will put all he has on his back, even if his stomach goes empty."
"This fellow didn't, I tell you," said Guy. "The most I could see of
his uniform was buckskin; and it was fixed up in a way that must have
taken some squaw a year or more to turn it out so neatly. I saw his
pants, or a portion of them that was not covered up by his leggings,
and they were the costliest kind of broadcloth; much better than those
we wear,--we mounted Lieutenants who draw $1500 a year."
"I wonder if his father is rich," said Perkins.
"There!" exclaimed Guy. "I knew there was something I had forgotten. I
never thought to ask him who his father was."
"You made a mistake there," said Arthur. "He must be a man of some note
in the tribe, or his son would not be allowed to meet an enemy on the
lines. You say that there were Sioux watching you all the time?"
"Yes, and he showed me the hiding place of one of them; but you might
as well look for a needle in a haystack as to try to make him out. My
horse smelled him, however, and that was the reason he ran away with
me."
The boys had by this time reached the guide's headquarters, and there
they found the man of whom they were in search sitting on an empty
cracker box, smoking his pipe. We ought rather to have said "the
boy," for Cyrus was about their own age. No one knew what his other
name was, whether Cyrus was his given or surname, and, as he did not
volunteer the information, no one cared to ask him. He had been born on
the plains, for no one could have learned so much unless he had been;
and the boys had told one another confidentially that there was a story
back of it. He was talkative enough whenever he was approached on any
other subject, but the moment they tried to pry into his parentage
Cyrus closed his mouth and would say nothing more. He was very friendly
with all the young officers, accepted the cigars and tobacco which they
offered him, and gave them "points" when they went out on a scout after
Indians; but who his father was was a question he would not answer. He
was taller than any boy in the party, and the muscles on his arms were
something to wonder at.
"Halloo!" said he, knocking the ashes from his pipe and filling up for
a fresh smoke, "Guy got a reprimand. I can see it plainly enough. Why
didn't you obey the Adjutant's orders, and come in when your game flew
off over the ridge?"
"Well, there is once that you are mistaken," said Guy. "I told the
officer of the day just why I did not come back, and he said that the
next time the Colonel trusted me I was to do just as I was told."
"Kendall is the officer of the day, is he not?" replied Cyrus. "That
is the first time I ever knew of him letting a young officer off so
easily. You must have seen something over there."
"Yes, I did; and I want to know if you ever heard of, or have seen
something, I don't care what it was, which was given to a white man
that would save his life if he were to fall into the hands of the
Sioux?"
"I certainly have," replied Cyrus.
"What was it?" asked all the boys at once.
"Have you found such a thing?"
"No; but I had something given to me. It was a letter which Winged
Arrow's father had written to him to come home."
"Where is the letter?"
"The Colonel's got it and I don't know whether he means to give it up
or not. I tell you it put him on nettles too. It tells of a massacre
that is to come off very shortly. The Colonel says that the next time
we go out after a load of wood we have got to look out."
"I know pretty nearly all the Sioux that there are in that camp, but
I never heard of Winged Arrow before," said Cyrus. "What sort of a
looking chap was he? Tell me all about the history of that letter, and
then I will tell you some more."
Once more Guy began and told his story, and Cyrus seemed to take it all
as a matter of course, for he never expressed surprise at anything the
young officer told him. When Guy had finished his tale, Cyrus lighted
his pipe and sat with his elbows on his knees, looking thoughtfully at
the floor.
"So it seems that we young officers have got some friends in the camp
of the Sioux all unbeknown to us," said Guy, after waiting for Cyrus
to say something. "They don't want us all killed off."
"Well, that stands to reason," said Cyrus. "This Winged Arrow has been
under instruction of white people all the time for eight years, as you
say, and he doesn't want to see any of your kind hurt. That letter will
save the life of anybody who falls into the hands of the Sioux."
"Do you know that to be a fact?" asked Arthur, who, like all the rest
of the party, was greatly astonished.
"Yes, sir; I know it is so," said Cyrus, emphatically. "Mine was saved
once by a simple bunch of sage brush which I had in one of my pockets."
"Oh, go on and tell us all about it," chorused the boys, looking around
for some place to sit down. "I don't see what there could have been in
a lot of sage brush to save your life."
"It is not a long story, so you need not get ready for an all night's
entertainment," returned Cyrus. "You know I have always been kind of
friendly toward the Indians; whether Sioux or Pawnee, it made no sort
of difference to me, for I live a good deal like them myself. About
two years ago we had some war on with the Sioux, about some land, of
course, and I was off scouting by myself to see what I could find. I
was not attached to any post then. One day I was within hearing of a
tremendous fight that came off between our fellows and the Sioux, but
I did not go near the battlefield until it was all over. The next day
I went up and found that our men had been victorious. The dead and
wounded Indians were buried where they had fallen, and our own people
had disappeared. They had been carried away by our fellows so that the
reds could not dig them up and mutilate them.
"I was just about mounting my horse to go on again, when I heard a
groan coming from a thicket close at my side, mingled with the cries
in the Sioux tongue of 'Water! Water!' I tell you I did not feel safe
in going up to find out what the matter was, for the Indians, even
though they are wounded unto death, have a way of keeping a weapon in
their hands ready to be the death of any one who comes near them; but
finally I made out to see the man, and there was not anything in the
shape of a revolver or knife near him. He was shot through both hips,
but had managed to drag himself out of sight there in the thicket where
he had lain undisturbed by our forces when they were burying the dead.
When I came up to him he held out his hands piteously and begged for
water. He saw that I was supplied, for he had his eyes on my canteen,
and although somebody might call me a fool for doing it, I took it
off and gave it to him. He was a human being and somehow I could not
bear to knock him in the head. He seemed greatly surprised at that,
and grateful too; and after a little while I began a conversation with
him. He told me that he had been shot out there on the plains, but
had dragged himself to those bushes without a weapon of any kind, and
that nothing remained for him but to lie there and die. Of course I
could not do anything for him, for he was shot in such a way that he
could not sit upright on a horse. I left him the little grub I had and
promised that if I could find any one to send after him, I would do it;
but that was all in my one eye. I supposed when I left him it would be
the last of him.
"Just as I was about to get on my horse and ride away from him, he
thrust his hand into his medicine sack and drew out something wrapped
up in buckskin, which he held toward me. I said nothing, but took it,
and when I was a little way off I unrolled the thing, and found that
I had a handful of sage grass. My first impulse was to drop it, for
I did not believe that it would be of any use to me; but in time I
happened to remember that such things HAD served prisoners in some way
or another and saved their lives."
"Why, how would it do that?" said Arthur.
"I do not know," replied Cyrus, "whether it is a sign from one Indian
to another, or some medicine which they think will protect anybody who
has it,--it is beyond me quite. It did not protect this Indian; for if
it had, the white man's bullet that shot him through the hips would
have been turned away and never hit him at all. Well, I took it, put it
in one of my pockets, and started on the trail of our forces, intending
to overtake them as soon as I could, when the first thing I knew I ran
plump into a squad of about twenty warriors; or, rather, they ran into
me, for they came over a hill and surrounded me before I could think
twice. 'Well' said I, 'You are gone up this time. It is no use trying
to get away, but some of these savages will go before you do.' So I cut
loose with my rifle--"
"Do you mean to say that you shot while the Indians were all around
you?" exclaimed Guy in astonishment.
"Certainly," replied Cyrus. "I supposed that if I was caught alive,
there could be only one case for me, and that was to be tortured, so I
determined to do what damage I could before I went. I got two of the
warriors, and I did not make any mistake about it either, and then
somebody shot my horse through the head and I came to the ground.
Before I could say 'General Jackson' I was disarmed and my hands tied
behind my back. I was done for at last."
The boys waited impatiently for Cyrus to go on with his story, but he
leaned his elbows on his knees and took a few long pulls at his pipe.
At length Guy began to grow indignant.
"Well, it seems as though the Indians left a great deal of you, if they
did burn you to death," said he. "Didn't they leave enough of you to
finish your tale?"
Cyrus laughed heartily.
"I was just going over in my mind the way things happened there during
the next few minutes," said he, when he had sobered down. "They all
began shouting at once, and I knew by the noise they made that we were
safe from our boys, and that I had nobody to rescue me. Some began
shouting out one thing and some another, but I knew from what they
said that they were in favor of disposing of me at once, because they
did not think it safe to take me to their village. They put a lariat
around my neck, jumped on their horses and started for a little grove
of willows about five miles off; and although I was a pretty fair
runner, I was completely whipped by the time we got there. I tried my
level best to make them listen to me, but I might as well have shouted
against the roar of Niagara. When we got to the willows I could not
say a word. They untied my hands and while some proceeded to cut the
fuel with which they were about to torture me, the others peeled off
my clothes; and they went into every pocket to see what I had that was
worth stealing. Presently one of them took up my pants which had my
pipe, tobacco, and money in them, and the first thing he drew out was
that roll of buckskin which contained the sage brush that the wounded
Indian had given me. The grunt he gave when he unrolled it was enough
to bring all the Indians about him. The shouting instantly ceased. They
examined the sage brush, turned it on all sides to see if there was
anything more with it, and at last looked at me.
"'Have you fellows got so that you can listen to a white man at last?'
said I, 'I know where I got that, and who gave it to me. If you will go
with me I will show him to you.'
"They could understand me well enough when they were not shouting so
as to drown my words. One of them, who spoke a little better English
than the rest, ordered me to tell my story; but I told him that I could
speak his own language better than he could, and so spoke to him in his
own dialect. When I got through they wanted to hold a consultation and
they drew off several feet, this time leaving me untied. When they came
back they allowed me to put on my clothes and told me to lead them to
their wounded comrade. If I had been a tenderfoot then I should have
been in a fix, for the prairie on all sides looked the same; but there
were certain little landmarks which I remembered, and in process of
time I brought them to the bush which concealed the man of whom I was
in search. One would have thought from the anxiety they showed to meet
the man, that there would have been a big jubilee over finding him; but
they did not act so at all. They simply exchanged a few words with him
and then came back to me. My horse, weapons, and every thing I had lost
by them was restored, all except my sage brush, which I wanted more
than I did anything else. Then they told me I could go; and I lost no
time in getting out of there. That letter of yours, Lieutenant, might
do the same thing for any one who happened to have it about him; and
for that reason I would like to see it. Don't you think the Colonel
would give it up if you asked him?"
Cyrus, who had allowed his pipe to go out while he was talking, struck
a match on the floor and turned toward Guy for an answer.