LITTLE CAYUSE MISSING.
Buffalo Bill expected a detachment of cavalry would arrive the next
forenoon, and gave himself over to keen enjoyment of this homelike
retreat in the heart of an almost barren country. Here he could lie on
the grass at evening and look up at the stars without the momentary
expectancy of that charming visitor, the rattlesnake. Neither did he
feel obliged to sleep with one eye open to guard against surprise by
Indians. No sound of the howling coyote came to him here, and the odors
of delicate flowers and pungent herbs tickled his nostrils.
And not the least of the attractions was the charming hostess, whose
innocent, confiding nature appealed to all the real manliness in
such men of honor as the famous scout. Mrs. Sherley, too--a motherly
soul--sent Buffalo Bill back to childhood’s days. It had been a long
time since the scout had felt so care-free and wholly at ease and peace.
Lieutenant Avery told to the scout the story of his fight and capture,
and how Little Moonbeam had rescued them from the Indians. The
lieutenant openly expressed his respect and admiration for the girl,
and remarked to the scout his desire to aid in placing her in the
advantages of an Eastern city, where she not only could go to school,
but could study music, both vocal and instrumental.
“What of your people in the East?” the scout asked.
“They do not live in a city which furnishes the advantages this girl
requires. But my wife’s people are ideally located. My wife and I have
talked much of it in the last few days, but have not touched on the
matter to the girl herself. So far as we knew she had no desire to
leave this beautiful oasis.”
Until their pipes had gone out the scout and lieutenant discussed the
girl’s future, which always included Mrs. Sherley and the little Indian
maiden. They came to a very definite understanding, and promised to
consider ways and means at a future sitting. In the meantime, Buffalo
Bill would once more confer with the girl.
At noon the following day no party had come from the fort for
Lieutenant Avery and his wife, neither had a messenger appeared.
The lieutenant was more or less chagrined. He had felt that the
commander and his brother officers would be so glad to hear that he was
alive that they would hasten to escort him back to the fort and hold a
general jollification in his honor.
As night came on no one was in sight on the plain, so far as the
scout’s field glass would reveal from the top of the butte.
Old Nomad had become uneasy and declared that something had gone wrong
with Cayuse. He, Nomad, was for putting off to discover its meaning. He
would go through to the fort and, if Cayuse had not arrived, search for
the Piute pard.
The scout would not agree to this proposition, but decided to go
himself to the fort, leaving the others at the sacred mountain, and
telling them not to be uneasy if he did not return for several days. He
expressed the utmost confidence in the ability of Little Cayuse to come
out on top, but if the Piute had not reached the fort, he, the scout,
should go into the mountains looking for the Indian pard. He still
believed the Ogallalas had a village there and were conducting their
raids from such a centre.
As soon as it was dark the scout mounted Bear Paw and set out. Before
leaving he cautioned Nomad and Skibo to be watchful and keep close to
the rocks until he returned, or an escort came for Lieutenant Avery.
It was a lonely night ride to the fort, but without adventure of any
sort. Little Cayuse had not been seen. The scout told the general of
the finding of Lieutenant Avery and his wife, and that the officer was
fully recovered and ready to return to the fort.
The general was rejoiced at this piece of good news and promised to
send horses and an escort at once.
But the scout’s work was just begun. What had become of Little
Cayuse? He had no doubt that Indians were at the bottom of Cayuse’s
disappearance, but how they had succeeded in capturing the wily Piute
on the open plain puzzled the scout.
He resolved to sleep until daylight and then set out on a blind trail
and trust to luck, or his intuitive bent toward a solution of such
problems.
At sunrise a detachment of fifty cavalrymen, leading two extra horses,
set out for the sacred mountain, Buffalo Bill and Hickok riding with
them for a mile or two and then turning away toward the Big Horn range.
The scout and Wild Bill struck the mouth of the cañon previously
referred to by Wild Bill in speaking to Captain Smith. On several
occasions Hickok had suggested a ride to this cañon, but some excuse
had been found by the captain each time to ride in another direction.
Hickok told Buffalo Bill, as they rode slowly on toward the mountains,
all that he had learned from Captain Smith, and also of his suspicions
aroused by certain incidents.
The previous evening an apparently old and decrepit Indian had come to
the fort begging. He asked to see Captain Smith, as that officer had
been generous to him at other visits. The captain was called, held a
few moments’ low and hurried conversation with the beggar, gave the
latter food and tobacco and something else that looked like a small
missive, and then stalked back toward his quarters, swearing about
“these Indian beggars.”
Wild Bill had quietly slipped out and followed the Indian, who became
an active young buck the moment he was outside the fort, and in an
arroyo half a mile away, mounted a pony and galloped toward the western
hills.
The Laramie man believed the Indian had come for a message and had
borne one to Captain Smith. He had also discovered enough to convince
him that Captain Smith had arranged with the Indians to be on the watch
for Lieutenant Avery and to see that he did not return to the fort. By
Captain Smith’s own words he was glad Avery was out of the way. He had
said, when slightly under the influence of liquor, that Avery was an
upstart and wanted to ride over his superiors. But that he--Avery--had
run against a snag when he attempted to ride over Price, the Indian
agent.
Captain Smith’s version of the affair was that Avery had insulted a
girl who was out walking with Price and the latter had knocked the
officer down. Smith had received a letter from Price describing the
situation and telling him that through Avery’s attempts the army was
trumping up false charges against him--Price--and were trying to down
him.
Hickok had apparently accepted Captain Smith’s version, not telling of
his own experience with Price and the latter’s intimate association
with Bloody Ike, the cutthroat. Hickok also learned that Captain
Smith’s half-brother was an officer in the service along the
Yellowstone. This half-brother had married Price’s sister and the
Indian agent’s influence in former years had done much to promote his
brother-in-law in the service.
“If Price escapes again we shall know to whom to look for an
explanation,” said Buffalo Bill quietly.
“Precisely; and if there is any deviltry carried on here by the Indians
that requires knowledge of the fort and troops we shall know pretty
well who furnished the information,” returned Hickok.
“We are getting into a pretty rough country for horses,” said the scout
presently.
“Yes; suppose we leave them in some secluded spot where they can feed,
and proceed on foot?”
“I think that the best plan, and here is the place.”
They had arrived at the mouth of a little blind cañon, well hidden by
evergreen growth. The horses were led beyond the fringe of green to a
grassy plot and tethered there, the scouts removing the saddles and
hiding them among the rocks.
The way became more difficult as they advanced until they were
clambering up rock-bound heights, clinging to narrow ledges and scrubby
cedars, far above the cañon.
It was yet early in the day and the pards thus far had seen neither
Indians nor large animals of any species. Higher up and beyond appeared
to be a barren and almost impassable waste of rock, with here and
there a stunted cedar or pine finding footing. To the left hung an
immense bald dome of granite, and hither they bent their steps.
Panting and weary from the hard climb they found themselves at an
elevation overlooking a vast expanse of country, both mountains and the
plains beyond. The fort was distinctly visible and with the field glass
men and animals were easily distinguished. Far to the northward the
square-topped butte, the home of the queen of the stars, was to be seen.
That which interested the pards more, at this time, was the character
of country immediately surrounding them. They could follow the windings
of the cañon until it ended in a precipitous wall above which lay a
broad plateau. To them it looked as though by following the gorge to
the end and climbing the wall of the cul-de-sac, the high land, which
was heavily timbered and surrounded by peaks, might be reached with
comparative ease. They wished now that they had continued up the cañon
instead of leaving their horses.
As they were studying the walls of the cañon through their glasses, an
Indian appeared among the trees at the edge of the plateau and began
a descent into the gulch. Others followed rapidly until twelve had
disappeared in the depths below the scout’s line of vision.
“The village is on that wooded mountain plain,” said the scout
decisively, “and their horses are anchored in the cañon below. There
is the seat of all the trouble in this part of the country.”