A BRUSH WITH THE SIOUX
The days saw the big serpents of men crawl on and on--hither and yon
over the rolling land, saw them splash through the rivers, wind round
the hills, and lie comfortably down at night. About them fluttered the
Indian scouts like flies around a lamp,--hostiles and allies,--marking
down each other's sign, dashing in and out, exchanging shots, but always
keeping away from the coils of the serpents.
[Illustration]
Many men besides Captain Lewis held out their hands to Ermine, attracted
as they were, first by his picturesque appearance, fine pony, and seat,
and Lewis's enthusiasm; but later by his low-voiced simplicity and acute
knowledge concerning the matters about them. They in turn unravelled
many tangled skeins for Ermine; regiments began to unwind into
companies, details, squads; the wagons assorted themselves, and it was
not long before the young scout could tell a colonel from a cook's
police at a glance. Numbers of these men had seen the ten thousand men
die, had been with them when they died, had even, some of them, lain
down with them sapped by their own wounds, though of course they had not
died. One big man slapped Ermine on the back hard enough to make him
cough, and said, "I'd rather take my chance at Cold Harbor than go
poking round the hills alone as you do, my boy." And Ermine had to move
away quickly to avoid another exclamation point, but such little
appreciation warmed him. Also the solidarity of these fellowships took
the more definite form of a Colt's revolver, a copy of Upton's tactics,
a pocket Bible, a comb from a bald-headed man who respected the unities,
together with trifles enough to litter up his saddle-bags.
Old Major Ben Searles in particular used to centre his benevolent eyes
on Ermine. He had a boy back in the States, and if he had gone to some
other school than West Point might have been a superintendent of an
orphan asylum as easily as the soldier which he was. Ermine's quaint
questions gave him delicious little mental jolts.
"Why is it, Uncle Ben," asked Ermine, "that all these men come out here
to march, get killed, freeze, and starve? They don't have any wives, and
I can't see what they have to protect except their eatables."
"You see, Kid, they enlist to do what the government wants them to do,
and the government wants them to make the Sioux stop killing white folks
just now."
"Yes, but they won't do it. Why don't the government mount them on
buffalo ponies, make them eat dried meat, and run after the Sioux
instead of taking the villages to war?"
"Well, Ermine, I don't know why. I suppose that is what the Indians
would like them to do, and I reckon that is the reason the soldiers
don't do it. Soldiers calculate not to do what the enemy wants them to
do. Don't you get discouraged; wait a year or two or three, my boy. Oh,
we'll get there; we don't know how, but we always stand pat!"
"Pat? pat? What do you mean by 'standing pat'? Never heard that word.
What does it mean?" questioned the young man.
[Illustration: MAJOR BEN SEARLES.]
Old Searles laughed. "'Pat' is a word we use in a game of cards, and it
means that when you think you are licked you guess you are not. It's a
great word, Ermine."
The huge column having crawled over the country as far as it was
ordered, broke into divisions, some going down the river in steamboats
and other parts through the hills to their far-off posts and
cantonments.
The Sioux scouts regarded this as a convenient solution of the awkward
situation. Neither they nor the white men could do anything with that
unwieldy gathering. Two infantry regiments stayed behind as a reminder
to the Sioux that the game was not played out. To one of these Captain
Lewis was attached, which good fortune gave Ermine continued employment.
The soldiers began to build winter cantonments at the mouth of the
Buffalo Tongue River, or, as the white men called it, "The Tongue," and
to gather great quantities of stores which were hauled from Fort Benton.
Here was something that the Sioux could attack; they jumped the trains
savagely, burned the grass, cut in on the animals to stampede, and
peppered up the men as they slept. Stores the troops must have; and
though they met repulse at times, they "pounded" the trains through to
the Tongue.
It was the custom for wagon trains to go into camp early in the
afternoon, which gave the stock a chance to graze while it was yet
daylight; it also made it possible to guard them from sudden forays by
Indians. On one of these occasions Ermine was with a train which made
one of the halts as usual. The Indians had not interfered, and to kill
time a few officers, among whom was Searles, started a game of poker.
Ermine looked on over their shoulders, trying to comprehend. He had
often played the Indian game of "hand," so that poker was merely a new
slide between wealth and poverty. Seeing him, Captain Lewis sent him on
some trivial errand. While he was gone, an agreement was made to have
him come in, and then they were to "Skin him alive" just to see how he
would stand it. It worked out beautifully. First they separated what
little money he had from his clothes, the officers meanwhile sitting
like owls and keeping their faces sober by dint of lip-biting; then the
sombrero, which was stacked up as five dollars, found its way to Captain
Lewis's head in place of a very bad campaign hat. Next came off the
buckskin coat, which was followed by the revolver, and slowly, so that
his suspicions might not be aroused, all his personal property,
including the saddle and gun, which properly did not belong to him, was
laid on the grass beside the victors.
"This is going to be a cold winter, John," laughed one, "or else we'd
let you in on that shirt."
"Want to put that pony up for a hundred, Ermine?" asked another.
"No; I'll keep the pony; he's medicine. I've often lost all I had with
the plum stones. I guess I don't understand poker." And the young scout
arose smiling. The officers laughed themselves into tears, jumped up,
and brought comrades to see how they had trimmed John Ermine. Every one
greatly enjoyed what they called Ermine's preparations for the winter.
He had his government shirt, his blanket breeches, and moccasins left;
he had not been so poor since he was a herd-boy, but he had known forms
of poverty all his life, so it was not new. What he did not enjoy was
his belittlement. The hard-working men in those dangerous, monotonous
days were keen for any weakness; and when he heard their laughter he
wanted a horse-bucket full of human blood to drown his thoughts. He was
greatly disturbed, not so much on account of his losses, although they
were everything, as he viewed them, as the ridicule in store for him at
Tongue River. There is no greater stimulant to a hardy mind than
poverty, and John Ermine's worked like a government-six in a mud-hole,
far into the night.
The trio of gamblers, who wore their spoils on their own persons, to the
huge edification of the camp, arranged to prolong the torture until they
should see the young hatless, coatless, unarmed scout on his bare-backed
pony during the next march. At the following camp they were to play
again, lose to him, and end the joke. Confidences were exchanged, and
every one was as tickled as a cur with a new collar.
One of the officers of the poker engagement rode a well-bred American
horse of which he was very proud. He had raced it successfully and never
declined an opportunity, of which fact Ermine was aware.
It had slowly come to his mind that he had been foully dealt with, so
about midnight he jumped up--he had a plan. By dint of daring, fortunate
machination, and the coöperation of a quartermaster sergeant whom he
took into his confidence, he watered the American horse, fed him with a
heavy feed of very salt corn, and later watered him again. The horse had
been on short rations and was a glutton. It was with the greatest
difficulty that the noble animal managed his breakfast at all; but he
was always willing at each opportunity to weaken the saline solution in
his stomach.
When the train pulled out, there was Ermine, bare-backed and ridiculous.
He rode through the volley of jeers and approached the horse-racing
officer, saying, "If you are a good gambler, come on; I will run my
horse against yours, three arrow-flights and a pitch, horse against
horse."
The laughing stopped; here was a new idea--the quarter-bred blood horse,
with his sleek bay quarters, against the scout's pony--a good enough
animal, but thin and overworked.
The officer halted and stroked his chin with his thumb and forefinger.
"Hum--hum--yes; by Gad, if my horse can't take that runt into camp, he
isn't good enough for me. I'll go you."
A cheer went up from those assembled, and some hidden force carried the
thrill down the train, which halted. Uncle Sam's business could wait.
The distance was paced off on the level plain; the judges were set; the
scouts and officers lined up.
The American's horse's eyes fairly bulged with excitement; he broke into
a dripping perspiration, but seemingly no one noticed this but Ermine.
He knew that the load of water would choke him in twenty yards.
The old war-pony was thin from overwork, but responsive as a dog to his
bareback rider, and dangerous-looking to one used to see ponies which
show worse in condition than out, by reason of the ungraceful
architectural lines.
The pistol spoke; the pony gained three jumps from the mark. The
American made the best of a bad job, but Ermine was able to turn at the
finish and back him over the judges' line.
The officer nearly had apoplexy, as he pulled up. He threw himself off
the horse and handed the reins to Ermine.
The action of both challenge and race had been so rapid and so badly
calculated on the officer's part that he lacked time to assimilate the
idea that he was a fool. He tried to maintain a composure which was
lacking, as every one could see.
"If you will get all my clothes, saddle, and gun back from your
comrades, I will give you your horse," said the scout.
The spectators who knew about the poker game now sat howling hopelessly
on their horses' backs. Searles and the others now came to their beaten
friend's aid; they shed their plunder in front of Ermine's horse,
produced the saddle and gun from a near-by escort wagon, laid them
carefully down with the rest, and the victor granted peace.
"Here is your horse," said Ermine, and he laughed.
The occurrence had a serious side; the three officers were quick to
appreciate that. Searles stood in front of the scout and made utterance:
"I want to say before all these men that the poker game was not on the
square--that we robbed you purposely for a joke, and that we intended to
give your property back to you to-night; and I call on all these men to
witness my remarks."
"Yes, yes," came the chorus; "it was all a joke. Searles said he would
give it back. Don't hold it out against him, Ermine," and other
reassuring remarks. They recognized the young scout's magnanimity as a
conqueror.
The laughing ceased; the thing evidently had been carried too far. It
would not sound well when told at Tongue River. The unfortunate
horse-race had made proper restitution impossible.
By this time John Ermine had his clothing and saddle arranged and was
mounted. He spoke:--
"Well, if that is so, if it only was a joke, I suppose I ought to say
that I sat up half of last night salting your horse. Look at him! He is
blowing yet; he is as full of water as a drowned buffalo. I am glad it
did not kill him; let us bury the axe."
Major Searles and his fellows were unlike many jokers; they slowly
readjusted after the shock and laughed with the others.
The march was resumed, but the customary monotony of this slow pacing
of interminable landscape was often abruptly broken by individuals
ha-haing loudly, as the sequence of events took a new hold of their
risibles; and Mr. John Ermine tightened in an ever increasing hold on
their fancies.
Major Searles, riding beside his horse-racing _confrère_, tried to cheer
him. "Brace up, compadre; that boy has you buffaloed. We are all right;
we are nothing but a bunch of monkeys. The only thing we forgot was that
a fellow who has lived all his life with Injuns is likely to know how to
gamble and race horses. He'll be wanting to juggle the bone[12] for us
yet, and we are bound to go him."
[12] Indian game of "hand."
"You bet," came the reply; "he has got us staked out, and he can come
along and do jig steps on our chest any time he feels like it. That is
where we have to moisten our lips and look pleasant, too."
An old wagon boss sauntered by on his mule with its mouth _à la
crocodile_.
"Ha, ha! reckon you fellers has had all the fun that's a-comin' to you.
That boy had that last deck marked, bottomed, sanded, and pricked, with
more up his sleeve and some in the back of his neck."
John Ermine and Wolf-Voice, meanwhile, had gone well out in front of the
train, loping this way and that about the course of advance, with eyes
for everything.
Presently they were seen to stop, turn, and come back, flying as fast
and straight as the antelope runs.
"How now, by Gad! here's smoke for us!" said Searles. No one laughed any
more.
Swift and noiseless as the birds came the scouts; nearer and nearer,
until their flying horses' hair could be seen; then sounded the
hoof-beats until they drew rein. Wolf-Voice's hair fairly stood up, and
his fierce little eyes danced attendance; he talked all the languages he
knew, and worked his free hand in most alarming sign signals to help his
expression.
"What's up, Ermine?" said the Major.
"Well, Major, the ground out there is alive with fresh pony-tracks. I
think you had better bunch up."
The train was strung out, having passed a bad "draw." Turning, the Major
shouted: "Close up in columns of fours! Deploy that escort out!"
The order flew down the train; the whips cracked, and the straining
mules trotted into position; the infantry guard ran out from the sides,
shoving shells into the breech-blocks. Even while this was in motion, a
torrent of Sioux poured over the bluffs, back of the flat, and came on.
The soldiers dropped on to their knees in the sage-brush. The Major
spurred to the particular point for which they were headed, followed by
scouts and several mounted men.
"Steady, men! hold your fire!"
The men were aiming, and each had five cartridges in his teeth. In a
sonorous roll came, "Steady--steady--steady!" And the gay stream of
savagery bore on.
"Fire!" Like a double drag on a drum which gradually dies, the rifles
rattled down the extended line, all concentrated on the head of the
flying column. The smoke played along the gray sage; there was a sharp
clatter of breech-blocks, and an interval.
"Ready! Fire!" and this repeated.
The Major jogged to a wind-blown place and saw that the column had
veered to its right but was not checked. Followed by his few mounted
men, he rode along behind their line parallel with the head of the
charge, but before the slow and steady fire the Indian line drew out.
The train was caught in the circle, but the enemy had not the heart to
ride over the deadly skirmish line. The close columns of wagons now
turned off down toward the river, and, keeping their distances, the
infantry followed it. Indian ponies lay kicking out on the dry plain,
and here and there could be seen warriors who retired slowly from the
racing Indians; they had been plugged.
Bullets kicked up the dust, and one or two soldiers had to be helped
along by their comrades.
[Illustration: "BULLETS KICKED UP THE DUST."]
The heated air shimmered over the land; but for the rattle and thud of
gun and pony, the clank, snort, and whip-cracks among the wagons, the
great, gray plains lay silent.
No eye save that of a self-considering golden eagle looked on, and he
sailed placidly far above. Ponies and mules strained and lathered, men
sweated and grunted and banged to kill; nature lay naked and
insensate.
The Indians made a stand under the cut banks of the river, but were
flanked out. The train drove slowly into a corral form, when the mules
were unhooked. The guard began to rifle-pit among the wagons, and the
Indians drew off to breathe their ponies. They had stopped the train,
but the "walk-a-heap" soldiers were behind the wagons, which were full
of "chuck," and water was at hand. Indians always dreaded the
foot-soldiers, who could not run away, and who would not surrender, but
worked their long rifles to the dying gasp; they were "heap bad
medicine"; they were like wounded gray bears in a den of rocks--there
was no reasonable method for their capture.
Major Searles jumped from his horse, took off his hat, and mopped his
forehead with his handkerchief. "So far, so good! so far, so good! but
not so very d---- far either," he mused.
Towing his pony behind him, Wolf-Voice came up, legs bowed and wobbly,
horseback fashion when afoot. Calling loudly, he said:--
"By Jeskris, Maje Searl, bout two-tree minit you bettar look out; dose
Kul-tus-til-akum she mak de grass burn yu up, by Gar. Win' she waas come
deese way."
"Yes--yes, that's right. Here you, Ermine, and you, Lieutenant Smith,
take what men you want and kill a wounded mule--drag his hide over the
grass to windward; it is short and won't burn high. And, Lieutenant,
give me all the men you can over here; they will try to come through the
smoke." Saying which, the Major made his way to the ammunition wagons
and had the mules hooked to them, intending to run these into the river
in case the fire came through.
In fighting Indians, the Major, who was an old hand, knew that one must
act quickly, for they are rapid tacticians and their blows come fast.
These preparations had no sooner been made than, true to Wolf-Voice's
admonitions, the Indians came down, and, just out of rifle-range,
started the fire down wind. Almost no air was stirring; the flames ran
slowly through the short buffalo-grass, but weeds and sage made
considerable smoke, which came toward the train.
The dripping carcass of the mule was dragged in a ring round the
windward side of the train; the smoke eddied over the wagons; the
Indians could not be seen; every man's eyes and ears were strained and
fingers twitched as they lay at an "aim" or "ready," among the
wagon-wheels.
The mules grew restive and sat back on their fastenings; but there,
matters had been well attended to, for the side-lines and hobbles were
leathered and laced.
To the silent soldiers this was one of the times when a man lives four
years in twenty minutes; nothing can be compared to it but the
prolonged agony between your "Will you have me?" and her "yes" or "NO."
As the fire came nearer, they heard its gentle crackle, crackle; their
nerves all crackled in unison. It reached the bloody ring left by the
poor mule--"would the d---- Injuns never come?" At the guard line the
flames died and crackled no more. The smoke grew thinner, and at last
they saw out through it; the Indians held themselves safely out of
rifle-shot.
"Hum," said Searles, as he stepped down from a wagon-wheel, "they didn't
want any of this chicken pie." And then he did what he was never known
to do under ordinary circumstances; and when he was through, the men
cheered, and every mule-skinner who had heard him envied a man who could
talk it off just like that.
"Ah, Maje Searl," chimed in Wolf-Voice, "don' you been scare; dose
Injuns no say goo'by yet, mabeso."
And they did not say good-by. They dismounted and went behind the washes
in the shallow river. They peppered and banged the men as they watered
the stock, the perilous trip only being made behind a strong skirmish
line with three men hit and a half-dozen mules. The soldiers ate a quiet
supper and put out the fires before the sun went down. The Indians, with
the declining light, crawled in on the train and pecked at the monster.
"Pe-e-e-eing" went a bullet on a wagon-tire; "slap" went another on a
wagon-box; "thud," as one buried in a grain-bag; "phud," and the ball
made a mule grunt; but the echoing Springfields spit their 45's at the
flashes.
Searles sent for Ermine and Wolf-Voice, and sitting on the grass behind
a barricade of grain-sacks, he began: "We are corralled, and I haven't
escort enough to move. I can hold out till snow, but can't graze my
stock. Some one has to go back for reënforcements. Will you go? It can
be made on a good horse by morning."
"Well, Major, I'll try it. I can go if I can get through with a fair
start. The moon will come up later, and I must go now while there is a
chance," said Ermine.
"Will you go also, Mr. Wolf-Voice?"
"Well, hit be good chance for geet keel. Yaes, I go, mebeso, feefty
doaller," vouchsafed that worthy, after nicely balancing the chances.
"What do you want for going, John Ermine?" asked the Major.
"I don't want anything. I came to fight the Sioux. I do not go to war
for fifty dollars." But it was too dark for the half-breed to see the
contempt in Ermine's face, so he only shrugged his shoulders and
contented himself with, "Oh, weel, mabeso dose soldier-man go for not so
much. I do not."
"All right, all right! I'll give you an order for fifty dollars. Here
are the papers." And the Major handed one to each. "Now, don't lose
them, whatever else you do."
"Ma pony, she steef, no good. I was go on de foot." And Wolf-Voice
proceeded to skin off his motley garments. In these desperate situations
he believed in the exemplar of his name; its methods were less heroic
but more sure.
Ermine half stripped himself, and his horse wholly; bound up the tail,
and in the gloom rubbed the old dried horse's hoof on his heels. It had,
at least, never done any harm, and at times favored him. Sak-a-war-te
and the God of the white men--he did not know whether they were one or
two. Trusting his valuables to the care of the Major, he was let out of
the corral after a good rattle of firing, into the darkness, away from
the river.
Only a few rifles ripped the night air in response to this, which he
took to indicate that the better part of the Indians were along the
river. He glided away, leading his pony, and the last the soldiers saw
was the flash of a gun turned in an opposite direction from the wagon
train. Neither Wolf-Voice or Ermine again appeared.
The slow fight continued during the night and all the next day, but by
evening the Indians disappeared. They had observed the approach of
reënforcements, which came in during the following morning, led by
Ermine. Wolf-Voice, who had been on foot, did not make the rapid time of
his mounted partner, but had gone through and acquired the fifty
dollars, which was the main object.