DANGER FROM THE UTES
From the Michigan they went on south, following the road which led to
the Owl Creek Mines. The way over the rolling plateau of North Park
passed at a considerable distance from the mountains, and no large
game except antelope was seen. There were many coyotes, and Jack took
pleasure in telling Henry some of the curious facts about these cunning
animals.
At the crossing of Owl Creek they met a prospector who was driving a
couple of little jacks loaded with provisions and tools, and with him
Hugh gossiped about the washings along the stream. The prospector said
that some of the placer diggings here paid good wages, but that as yet
no one had struck anything that was rich.
"I am about sick of this country," said the prospector. "The mines
don't pay, and sometime I reckon we're going to have trouble with these
Indians. They come around and look at us, and if we say anything to
them, they talk back mighty sassy. I expect they don't much like to
have white folks coming into the country and driving off the game."
"No," said Hugh, "I reckon maybe they don't, but then, the Utes have
always been mighty friendly, except when they broke out and killed
their agent, and then had that fight with Thornburgh."
After the prospector had passed on, Mr. Clifford asked Hugh whether he
supposed that there was any danger from the Indians.
"No," said Hugh, "I don't think there is. I used to know some of these
people, and always found them mighty good people if they were treated
right, but on the other hand, they have always been a race of mountain
hunters, and I can understand that it might make them pretty mad to see
the whites coming in here and killing and driving off what they have
always regarded as their food."
The road led them over a timbered spur, and then after crossing another
creek, headed almost directly toward Arapaho Peak. The weather was cold
and blustering, with occasional snow flurries, some of them so severe
that it was impossible to see any distance.
Just after one of these had ceased, Hugh, who had reached the top of a
ridge, stopped his horse and waved those behind up to his side. Looking
over the ridge, Jack saw, a long way off, a black object, which he at
once recognized as a buffalo, and when Hugh told Mr. Clifford and Henry
what the animal was, they were wild to kill it, for neither had ever
before seen a wild buffalo. Hugh and Jack looked the country over, and
after a little study it appeared that by going back and taking a ravine
it would be possible to get close to the buffalo, and it was decided
that Jack should take the Cliffords and go back and around, and should
try to take them up near enough to the bull to kill it. The stalk was
successfully made, and at last a point was reached where a shot could
be had at the animal at about a hundred yards distant, but just as
the Cliffords were about to shoot, the wind changed, and their scent
must have reached the bull, for with astonishing activity he wheeled
about and plunged into a fringe of quaking aspens near which he stood.
Both the Cliffords shot after him, but without effect, and Jack, who
followed the track for some little distance, could see no evidence that
it had been hit.
The three then returned to the pack train, which had started on as
soon as the buffalo had been alarmed. The two Cliffords were very much
depressed by their lack of success, but Mr. Clifford was a little
cheered by a good shot made at an antelope before the pack train was
joined. A band of twenty antelope ran up and stood on the bluff about
three hundred yards off, and Jack suggested that Mr. Clifford should
fire at one of the bucks which stood a little apart. The distance was
great, and Mr. Clifford asked Jack how he should hold.
"If I were you," said Jack, "I would not raise my sights, but would aim
at the tips of the antelope's horns and then move my sight over his
shoulders and fire."
After long and careful aiming, the rifle sounded, and the ball seemed
to strike the bluff just beyond the buck.
"That was a close call for that fellow, Mr. Clifford," said Jack, "and
I thought I heard the ball strike, but it must have been just striking
the earth." The band of antelope rushed up the hillside and presently
disappeared, but before that the buck that had been shot at turned
about and dashed back again almost to the place where he had been
standing when the shot was fired, and fell. The ball had pierced both
shoulders.
They camped that night on Buffalo Creek, and not far from them was an
Indian camp of the year before, where many bones and great piles of
hair showed that much meat had been brought in and many hides tanned.
The next day they crossed through the Arapaho Pass and camped near
Whiteley's Peak on Muddy Creek in Middle Park.
After camp had been made, Hugh said to Jack, "Now, son, get out your
fishing rod if you like, and try for the trout in this little stream."
Jack did so, and to his great satisfaction took fifteen trout, all of
them small ones, but all greatly enjoyed by people who had been for
months living on flesh.
The next day they started for the Hermitage Ranch, the home of Old
Jack Rand, long a resident of these mountains. The march had but just
begun when Hugh saw ahead of him a rider coming at good speed. As the
man approached, he began to make signs to Hugh, who halted, and when
the rider came up, he was seen to have been riding hard and far. "You
better turn around, partners," he said. "There is trouble down below.
The Utes have gone to war again, and swear they're going to clean out
the settlements. We have sent a courier to ask for help from Denver,
and I'm riding up to Laramie to try to get some troops to come in from
there. I reckon we're going to have another Meeker massacre, but I hope
not another Thornburgh killing. They say the Utes are mad, and are
going to clean out all the settlers. You'd better turn 'round, and get
out of this, unless you are looking for trouble."
"Well," said Hugh, "we're not looking for trouble, and I don't want any
Indian fighting, without it's thrust upon me. What do you know yourself
about these people? Have you seen any of the Indians?"
"No," said the man, "I haven't. I heard that a lot of gamblers went up
to the Ute reservation and took two or three race horses with them.
First they ran their slow horses against the Utes', and the Utes beat
them all; but finally they brought out a part thoroughbred that was
swift, and that they thought would beat the Utes' ponies, but they got
fooled on that. The Utes brought out a new pony that got away with
their fast horse, and then the gamblers would not pay what they bet,
and started in to try to take away the horses that the Utes had won.
That made the Utes mad, and they threatened to kill the gamblers. They
say some shots were fired, and some say some white men were killed, and
some say some Utes were killed. Anyhow, there's going to be trouble,
and you ought to know it before you go on."
"Well," said Hugh, "we're mightily obliged to you for giving us this
warning. I'll talk to my party here, and we'll decide what to do."
"Well, so long," said the rider; and he spurred up his horse and
disappeared on the road toward Laramie.
Hugh spoke to the members of the party, all of whom had gathered around
the stranger, and said, "This is bad news, and I reckon we better turn
around and make tracks for the railroad. Of course, if we had any
quarrel with the Utes and wanted to fight them, why, we could keep on,
but I reckon there's nobody here wants to get into trouble. Certainly I
don't, and I don't want Jack to, and you men who are out traveling for
pleasure don't want to, either. As for you, Jones, the Indians, if they
do make any trouble, will be between here and the place you want to go
to, and you don't want to risk your animals and your life down there if
there's going to be any fight."
"No," said Jones, "I certainly do not."
"Well, but, Mr. Johnson, all our things are in Denver, and we must get
back there," said Mr. Clifford.
"You can do that by way of the railroad," answered Hugh, "if you want
to. That's better than riding down through the parks and running into a
fight, as you might do if you kept on."
"Yes," said Mr. Clifford, "I think it is. I certainly don't want to get
into trouble of any sort."
"Well," said Hugh, "whatever you others decide, Jack and I will go
back. I would not take the responsibility of getting him into any
Indian fighting. He and I can take care of ourselves well enough if we
have to, but we are not looking for trouble."
Hugh turned about and rode back the way that they had come, and the
others followed him without further discussion. The day's march was a
long one, and they camped on Buffalo Creek in North Park.
That evening, after supper, Hugh said: "Now, I want you all to
understand how I feel about this report that we've had to-day. Likely
enough the message that that rider gave us was just a simple scare
story that hasn't any foundation in fact; but then again, it may
be true. My position is just this: I've brought son here out for a
summer's trip, and it's understood that I shall use my best judgment
to make him have a good time, and to make him learn things, but it is
also understood that I shall not let him get into any danger if I can
help it. I propose to have any mistakes that I may make, made on the
safe side; so I would rather run away from a rumor than go ahead and
investigate that rumor and then find that it was true and that we had
met some danger.
"Jack knows how to take care of himself a good deal better than most
young men. He has been in danger a good many times, but I do not want
to have him get into danger if he can avoid it. Now, I propose to get
started before day to-morrow morning, and make a long, hard ride. If
the Indians break out, we are likely to see them any time while we're
here in North Park, but after we have passed Pinkham's, I don't think
there is any danger. They won't go as far north as that."
It was long before light next morning when breakfast was cooked,
and before the first dawn, the train was in motion. While they were
packing, Hugh spoke to Jack and said, "Son, there's no use to talk much
about it, but you and I are the only men in this outfit that know much
of anything about the prairie, and we must do the best we can to keep
the others out of trouble. I don't much expect that we will have any
trouble, but we must both be on the lookout for it all the time. Now, I
want you to ride behind, and to keep the packs up close, and I want you
also to watch the back trail closely, and if you see anybody following
us, or in fact coming from any direction behind, let me know as soon
as you can. It may be that there are little camps of Utes scattered
out all through the mountains. You and I haven't seen any signs of
them, but that doesn't mean that they are not there. If this trouble
is serious and came up suddenly, the Indians will send out runners to
all these little camps, the men will get back as fast as they can to
where the trouble is, and the women and children will go through the
mountains keeping themselves hidden. So you see it's possible that at
any time a little bunch of Indians may jump out of the mountains close
to us, and if there are wild young men among them, they may come down
and try to take what we've got. I don't reckon they care much for our
scalps, but they'd like our horses and guns, and this fur, too, if they
knew we had it.
"Now, as I say, you and I have got to be the eyes of this outfit,
and if by any chance it should come to fighting, we've got to do the
fighting, too. Those Englishmen and that ranchman that they've hired
won't be of any use at all."
When they set out, Hugh traveled more rapidly than he had at any time
on the trip, and Jack, who, as directed, brought up the rear, kept
the last horses well up with the bunch. By noon they had covered a
good distance and had crossed the Michigan. Two or three hours later,
Jack began to think that if they kept on they would certainly reach
Pinkham's that night.
All during the day he had been particularly alert, watching the back
trail and the prairie on either side. He had just been looking back and
was turning his eyes to the front again, when off to the west he saw
some black dots appear from behind a hill two or three miles away. A
moment later he could see that there were fifteen or twenty of these
dots, which he at once made out to be riders coming directly toward
them. Jack gave a whoop, and waved his hand to the left as Hugh looked
back, and a moment later Hugh called to the others to keep the horses
up close, and started ahead on a good lope. Jack kept watching the
group of pursuers, and it was not long before he could see that they
were Indians. It was not, perhaps, so much any one thing about them,
for they were much too distant for him to see how they were clad, or
how they were armed, but there was something in the way they rode, in
the swing of their bodies, which made him sure that they were Indians;
of course, Utes, and since they were pursuing them, presumably hostile.
He looked ahead to see what Hugh was doing, and where he was going,
and presently saw him direct his course toward an isolated group of
cottonwood trees which stood near the stream in a wide meadow.
The Indians were still a couple of miles behind them, and there was
plenty of time for the train to take refuge among the trees before the
enemy--if enemies they were--could come within rifle shot.
A little later, Hugh rode in among the trees and almost through them
to the other side, and then suddenly pulling up his horse, he sprang
to the ground and began to catch up the pack animals, and to tie them
to trees in the center of the little grove, where they would in some
degree be protected from bullets if any shooting took place. The
Englishmen and Jones were quick to assist him as soon as they saw what
he was trying to do, and by the time Jack had come up, all the horses
had been secured.
Hugh called out to Jack, "Now, son, I want you all to scatter out and
to see that none of these Indians get close to this timber. I don't
know yet what they mean, but if they mean fight, we can stand them off
here. They probably know that troops have been sent for, and they won't
stay here long. They will hurry back to their main outfit. We're about
as safe here as we would be in a house, but, of course, we've all got
to keep our eyes open. You look after these other men, and see that
each one keeps a good lookout on his side, and that each one keeps
far enough back so that he won't get shot if there is any shooting.
Remember, these Utes are good shots. On the other hand, their guns
won't carry very far, and they're likely to be poor off for ammunition.
Watch out now."
All this time the Indians had been drawing closer, and were now within
about five hundred yards of the trees, but it seemed to Jack they were
going a little slower all the time. He saw them from the other side of
the grove, where he was posting the Cliffords and Jones. As they came
up, half a dozen men rode ahead from either flank and passed part way
around the group of cottonwood trees, stopping at intervals, until
finally the grove was surrounded by a thin line of men, who had every
part of it under observation. No one could leave the grove without
being seen.
"Well," said Jack to himself, "what sort of fools do these people think
we are? They don't imagine that we are going to leave a good safe place
like this and start off over the prairie, do they?"
A moment later he saw Hugh step out of the timber on the open meadow,
in plain sight, and make signs to the Indians, and then saw the group
that was still advancing from that side stop. By this time Jack had
posted his men and advised them what to do, and he quickly slipped back
to the edge of the timber near where Hugh stood. When Hugh made his
signs, the first of which Jack recognized as the sign for "friends" and
then the sign to "stop" or "keep off," the Indians stopped, consulted
together, and presently one of them rode out alone, and coming a
hundred yards nearer the timber, began to make signs. A moment later
Hugh called to Jack and said, "Son, this man says he wants to talk, and
I think I'll go out and meet him. It isn't likely that he'll try to
play any trick on me. I shall take my gun with me, and let him take
his, but you must keep a sharp lookout. If anything should happen to
me, you must try to slip away to-night and get beyond Pinkhams, then
you'll be safe. Of course nothing will happen to me; but a person might
be struck by lightning."
Hugh mounted his horse and rode out toward the Indian, and the two met
midway between the group of Indians and the trees. As Hugh approached
the Ute, Jack, who was watching carefully, seemed to see a change in
the attitude of the two men, and saw that they rode up close to one
another and shook hands, Hugh giving his left hand to the Indian, who
shook it with his right, while Hugh held his rifle in his right hand.
After a few minutes' talk, the Indian turned and galloped back to his
people, while Hugh sat and watched him for a moment, and then wheeling,
rode swiftly back toward the trees. He had almost reached them, when
suddenly a shot rang out in the trees not far behind Jack, and he saw
Hugh throw himself forward on his saddle, while the group of Indians,
dropping down out of sight behind their horses, scattered and rode
away. An instant later Hugh rode by him into the shelter of the trees,
and pulling up his horse, sprang to the ground with the question, "Who
fired that shot?"
"I don t know," replied Jack.
"Well," said Hugh, "you stop here and watch, and if those Indians come
up on this side, call out to me."
He then threw down his reins and disappeared among the tree trunks.
The first person he saw was Henry, looking very much disturbed, and on
the ground not far before him, Hugh noticed a green cottonwood twig,
freshly broken from a branch, to which the unfaded leaves still clung.
The Indians that had been distributed about the clump of trees had
disappeared, and it was evident that at the shot they had quickly
gotten under cover.
"Did you fire that shot, my boy?" asked Hugh, though he hardly needed
the answer.
"Yes," said Henry, "my gun went off by accident. I saw the Indians all
about us, and loaded my gun, and then began to cock it, so as to be
ready if anything happened, when the hammer slipped from my thumb, and
the gun went off."
"Well," said Hugh, "that's a pity. Let me look at your gun."
Henry handed it over to him, and Hugh opened the breech and took from
it the newly fired cartridge shell in which some of the smoke still
hung. He put the shell in his pocket, and then asked, "Which way was
your gun pointed?"
"Why," said Henry, "it was pointed nearly straight up in the air, I
think. Anyhow, I know that the branch of a tree fell down in front of
me just after the gun was discharged."
"Well," said Hugh, "I don't think there's going to be any fighting, and
if I were you I would not load my gun again until either Jack or I tell
you to. Just stand where you are, and keep a good lookout. Where is
your father?"
"He is over there to the left somewhere. Jack placed us, and told us to
stay where we were, and to keep watch until he came to us again."
"All right," answered Hugh, "just wait here, and I'll go over and speak
to your father; and then I've got to speak to these Indians again."
Mr. Clifford was found in the place where Jack had put him. He seemed
glad to see Hugh, and very anxious to know what the shot had meant.
Hugh reassured him, telling him of the accident, but without commenting
on it. Then Hugh returned to Jack and told him what had happened.
"I don't know whether we'll be able to talk to those Indians again,
son," he said. "That shot will make them all mighty suspicious. I was
a little uneasy when they first got around us, but as soon as I saw who
those men were that I talked to I knew it was all right. I know some
of them right well, and the one who met me is Man Above. He used to be
a friend of mine. Man Above said that the Indians don't want to fight
the white people, but they don't want them coming in here to kill their
game, and they are going to tell everybody to get out; and then if they
won't get out, the Indians will fight them. He told me that he had just
heard about the trouble down below, and doesn't know what it's about,
but that they are going back soon to find out.
"I told him that we were just on our way home, and didn't expect to
hunt here any more, but that if they wanted to fight us, we were ready
for them, and they could start in any time. I said that the Utes knew
me, and that I had with me three men that had good guns and could
shoot as well as I, and that if we had any fighting, it would be real
fighting and not play. I said it would make me feel bad to fight the
Utes, because I had always liked them and felt friendly toward them;
that it would be bad for them to fight the white people, because there
were too many whites for them to fight. If they killed a few, more
would come, and at last they would whip the Utes. He said that he knew
me, and I knew him, and he did not want to fight me; that our guns were
good, and that many of his young men had only bows. He said that he
was glad we were going away, and that now, after what I had told him,
they would go away in the opposite direction, so that there would be no
danger of trouble. But you see that shot has spoiled everything. Now
I've got to see if I can get them to talk again. You see how a little
thing like that boy's carelessness might start a trouble that would
cost half a dozen men their lives."
"Yes," said Jack, "it was pretty stupid. I suppose it might have
happened to me, perhaps, just as well as to Henry, but I am mighty glad
it wasn't me."
"No," said Hugh, "I should hate to believe that you could do such a
fool thing as that."
Hugh mounted his horse and again rode out into the open, stopping a
couple of hundred yards from the trees, and here he made the peace sign
again.
One of the distant Indians--which one Jack could not see because of
the distance, rode out toward Hugh. Then Hugh dismounted, and, after
holding his gun above his head for a moment, placed it on the ground,
and then remounted and rode toward the Indian. A little later the
Indian dismounted and put his gun on the ground, and presently he and
Hugh met. Hugh explained to Man Above--for it was he--what the shot had
meant, and asked him, if he felt like it, to ride into the timber and
see for himself what had happened. If he did not feel like it, Hugh
asked him if he would gather up his men and go away as he had before
said he intended to do. "I think," said Hugh, "if you will ask your
men, you will find that no one of them was shot at. The boy just let
his gun go off in the air, but it happened at a bad time."
"I will get my men together," said Man Above; "and if no one of them
says that he was shot at, we will go away as I promised. I believe that
your words are true, and that the shot was fired by accident. Now I
will go and send someone to call up the young men who are about these
trees."
"That is good," said Hugh. "I should be sorry to fight you, my friend.
It would do good to neither of us, and it might lead to much fighting."
"You speak well," said Man Above; and after shaking hands the two
parted and rode in opposite directions, each one picking up his gun
when he came to it.
A little later two Indians were seen to ride in opposite directions
around the clump of trees, but a long way from it, and not long after
the surrounding Indians were seen riding toward the group of their
fellows, assembled on the prairie south of the cottonwoods. Hugh
watched them with the glasses, and at last announced to Jack that they
had all come together; and a little later the whole band of Indians
turned their faces southward, and trotted off in the direction from
which they had come.
As they started, Hugh shook his head and said, "Good Lord, what a
terrible thing it is to be mixed up with pilgrims. That lad out there
has no more idea of the danger he brought on us all than a chicken just
out of the shell, and I reckon his father hasn't, either. If I hadn't
happened to know some of that bunch of Indians, we never would have
gotten off as easy as we did."
"I guess not," replied Jack; "and I can tell you I'm mighty glad to
see those Indians go. I don't know whether it's just plain prudence,
or whether I've got some feeling of responsibility about these English
people, but I'm sure I don't want to fight these Utes a bit. Two or
three years ago I would have felt differently. Do you remember, Hugh,
how crazy I was to go off on a war party with Joe and Bull Calf and
some of that outfit, one summer up with the Piegans?"
"Yes," answered Hugh, "I remember it. You thought I treated you pretty
badly, I guess, that time."
"Yes," said Jack, "I did. But I've been mighty glad a good many times
since. Now we can watch these Utes and see them a long way off. If they
pass over that farthest hill, we can start from here before dark, and
they can't catch us before we get out of the Park."
"That's right," said Hugh. "Now let's unload and give these horses a
chance to feed and rest, and then about sundown we'll start, and ride
all night if we have to."
The horses were speedily stripped and picketed out on the meadow where
the grazing was good, and then Jack and Hugh returned to the edge of
the grove, and sat there watching the retreating group of Indians,
whose figures grew smaller and smaller as the distance increased.
They were doing just what they had agreed to do, and an hour and a half
later the band were passing over the most distant crest, and Hugh,
counting them through the field glasses, declared that the number was
just what it had been when he talked to them.
Now the animals were brought in, loaded, and the train swiftly set in
motion. They rode all night, and the next morning at daylight camped on
the Laramie River, well out of reach of any trouble with the Utes. Two
days later they were at Laramie, and there Hugh and Jack regretfully
parted with their English friends, who returned to Denver by rail,
shipping their horses also on the railroad.
Jack and Hugh turned their faces westward, and a little more than a
week later were showing their catch of fur to Mr. Sturgis at the ranch.
"But, son," said Hugh, "we didn't half trap. We ought to have loaded at
least two horses with beaver."
THE END
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES
-Plain print and punctuation errors fixed.
-In several chapter header the word "chapter" is missing in original
book; it has been added for consistency and for better building of
Table of Contents by ePubMaker.
End of Project Gutenberg's Jack the Young Trapper, by George Bird Grinnell