IN THE MOUNTAINS.
MUL-TAL-LA, the Blackfoot, performed some mental calculations that would
have been creditable to Deerfoot, the Shawanoe.
Possessing a remarkable memory of places, he easily recalled the
location of the pass which he and his companions had used when on their
journey eastward. Naturally he planned to utilize it again on his return
with his three friends. He did not forget that during his visit to Black
Elk, on the former occasion, he had described the route by which he
crossed the formidable mountain range. The Shoshone chieftain praised
his skill and wisdom in making use of the pass, which he himself had
traversed more than once.
It followed, therefore, that Black Elk would expect his old acquaintance
to guide the youths over the same course. He had therefore signaled to
the Shoshones in the mountains to cut off the little party, and the most
promising place for that was in the pass which was familiar to both.
Consequently, the prudent thing for Mul-tal-la to do was to mislead
Black Elk as to his time of entering the pass.
It has been said that the entrance could be reached by the close of the
afternoon, but the first intention of the Blackfoot was to camp at this
entrance until the following morning, arranging to make the passage by
daylight. You must not form the idea that when a mountain pass is
referred to, it is in the nature of a road which can be followed without
trouble and that few difficulties are met. The great South Pass through
the Rockies is twenty miles wide in many places, and a party of
emigrants have often entered and tramped it for a long way before
learning they were journeying over an old route that has been used by
thousands of persons in crossing the plains.
A mountain pass as understood in the West may be described as a means of
getting across or through a range. It often involves steep climbing and
descent, winding past wild and dangerous precipices, with the hardest
work conceivable. It requires several days and sometimes a week or more
to traverse. It has happened that a party, after penetrating to a long
distance, has discovered that they have been following a blind path, and
they are obliged to turn back and hunt for a new one. The most
experienced mountaineers sometimes go astray. On one of Fremont’s
exploring expeditions his guide lost his way and the most disastrous
results followed. Many of the hardiest scouts and all of the mules froze
to death, and the explorer himself had a narrow escape from a similar
fate.
It would have been impossible for the two Blackfeet to find their way
through the range had they been forced to depend upon themselves, but
the trail had been used for years by hunters and wild animals, and was
so clearly marked that, traveling only by daylight, it was easy to avoid
going wrong.
Mul-tal-la explained the problem that confronted him, and the boys saw
it was both difficult and dangerous. His plan was to press on till they
arrived at the entrance to the pass, and then, instead of waiting until
morning, do the utmost traveling possible by night. The Shoshones would
not expect this. Therefore, if all went well, our friends would gain a
good start and, by keeping it up as long as they could, might throw
their enemies so far to the rear that they would be eluded. The
Blackfoot thought they could reach the comparatively level country
beyond at the end of three days, provided they made good use of the
nights, which, you will remember, were partly lit by the moon, and
provided also the weather continued fair.
“The smoke of this fire will tell Black Elk where we are,” remarked
George Shelton, when they were about to resume their journey.
“Yes; had Mul-tal-la seen the signal of Black Elk the fire would not
have been started, but it is too late now.”
“It seems to me,” said Victor, “that since you have located Black Elk
and his party, the only thing left is to keep a lookout for the
Shoshones in front.”
“My brother speaks the words of wisdom.”
“Thanks—and now, Mul-tal-la, why not go by that pass you have been
talking about and take a new one through the mountains?”
The Blackfoot explained that that was the question he had been turning
over in his mind, but the plan could not be followed, because he had no
knowledge of any other path. There might be none, or, at best, he would
have to spend a long time in hunting for it, and when found, they were
likely to be turned back by obstructions of which they could know
nothing until they faced them. The conclusion was therefore clear: they
must use the old pass with which he was familiar.
But the Blackfoot had a little trick in mind, which he explained to his
friends. They would select a camping site among the foothills near where
they would have to make the change of route to enter the mountains. They
would start another fire, whose smoke would give their enemies the
impression that they had halted for the night. The Shoshones, following
the rule of their race, were not likely to molest the travelers until
the night was well advanced, and by that time Mul-tal-la hoped to be
beyond reach. Care and skill and not a little good fortune were
necessary to success, but the faithful guide was hopeful.
It took only a fraction of the time I have used for a full understanding
to be reached by the Blackfoot and the boys. At the request of George
Shelton, their friend retained the spyglass, while he and his brother
depended upon their unaided eyesight. Mul-tal-la held his position a
hundred yards, more or less, in advance, with the laden Zigzag plodding
after and the brothers bringing up the rear. All were fortunate in one
respect: none of the animals—omitting the previous accident to the horse
Simon and later to Whirlwind—had fallen lame. This was fortunate when it
is remembered that all were unshod and they had been obliged to pass
more than one rough place. This good fortune could hardly be expected to
continue, now that the hardest part of the journey thus far confronted
them.
The course wound among the elevations and depressions, past boulders and
rocks, with grass, trees and undergrowth continually obtruding, and with
the rugged outlines of the mountains towering above the cloud line on
their left. At varying distances the great peaks climbed far into the
sky, their crests white with snow, and in some cases the fleecy clouds
wrapped them about so closely that it was hard to tell where one ended
and the other began.
Now and then a breath of icy air was wafted over the lads, and they
involuntarily shivered. Then in the soft hush the weather for a time
became oppressive. Up and down, to the right and left, in and out, the
three pushed onward, making better progress than at any time for weeks
before.
The guide gave the boys no attention, for none was necessary. They
understood matters, and the part they had to play was simple. The
Blackfoot could be seen now and then to check his horse and lift the
instrument to his eye. While he gave his chief attention to the front,
he did not neglect to scan every portion of his field of vision.
One fact puzzled the Blackfoot. Hours had passed since Black Elk sent
his signal across the miles of country, but the reply, so far as
Mul-tal-la could discover, was yet to be given. It could hardly be done
without his seeing it. The fact that nothing showed suggested the
possibility of there being no Shoshones in that section to answer the
command of their chief. Such might be the fact, but it was unlikely that
a veteran like Black Elk would call to any of his warriors unless he
knew they would respond. Mul-tal-la acted as if such a contingency was
out of the question.
The sunlight was still in the air when the Blackfoot reined in his horse
and dropped from his back. They were in a rough, broken section, filled
with rocks, undergrowth, stunted pines, oaks and other varieties of
trees, while a small brook brawled and splashed and tumbled some
distance away in its eager hunt for a channel to the Platte.
“It looks as if we are done for the day,” said George, noting the action
of their friend. “If we are, we have made better time than we expected.”
The Blackfoot beckoned them to approach, and they rode up beside him.
“Here we wait till night,” he explained. “When we turn yonder we begin
to travel over the trail that will bring us into the open country on the
other side of the mountains—if Black Elk does not say no,” he added,
with his meaning grin.
“You have seen nothing of the answer to his signal?” asked George.
“No; the sky in front and over the mountains is clear”——
“How about _that_?” broke in Victor, pointing to the westward, in which
direction the pass extended.
The others turned and saw that which they had been hoping not to see. A
spiral, oscillating line of smoke was creeping slowly upward in the
clear air. Moreover, it was not more than half a mile distant. Although
the reply of the Shoshones to their chief had been delayed, it had come
at last. The warriors were on hand, and in the path which the travelers
had intended to follow.
The three scanned the telltale column of vapor in silence. In the
circumstances the glass could give no help. The interval was too brief
and the object itself too ethereal and vague to call for any
strengthening of vision. Finally George asked, involuntarily dropping
his voice, as one does in the presence of danger:
“Will that change your plans, Mul-tal-la?”
He thought for a minute, with his eyes still on the smoke, before
answering.
“Mul-tal-la cannot speak of a surety, but he does not think so.”
As he explained matters from his point of view, the former course that
he had indicated remained the right one to follow. The discovery simply
added another element of danger to that which was there from the first.
By kindling the fire where they had halted, they would give the
impression that they had gone into camp for the night. This subterfuge
ought to lure the Shoshones to the place in order to make their attack
during the darkness.
The situation could not have been more delicate. To carry out the plan
of the Blackfoot it was necessary for him and his companions to set out
over the pass as soon as it became dark. They would thus be going
directly toward the hostiles, who, in case they did not wait until a
late hour, would be coming at the same time toward the travelers. Using
the one road, it would seem that an encounter was inevitable.
The hope of averting such a meeting rested on the fact that the pass was
of varying width, and in many places two or three routes were open. Two
men following opposite directions might miss each other by a half-mile
interval, and without the possibility of mutual discovery. Again there
were stretches where they would have to come face to face. A not
important advantage of our friends was that they would be expecting—and
would, therefore, be on the lookout for—the Shoshones, while it was not
likely the latter would be watching for the Blackfoot and the boys, who
were supposed to be at the entrance to the pass, where the smoke of
their camp-fire spoke of their presence.
A vigorous blaze having been started, Mul-tal-la took the lead as
before. It was understood that he was to hold his place considerably
farther in advance than usual. Upon the first sign of their enemies he
would warn them by signal, when they could conceal themselves, if
possible, until the hostiles passed down the trail to the supposed camp.
If this could be accomplished, the danger would be past and the problem
solved. Everything depended upon the skill of the Blackfoot.
Night had begun closing in when the start was made in the order named,
excepting that Mul-tal-la, as has been stated, led by a longer interval,
and Victor Shelton was at the extreme rear. The guide was invisible to
the boys most of the time.
The trail steadily ascended, and for an hour or more was easy traveling.
It wound to the right or left, passing into deep hollows, climbing steep
ridges, circling obstructions in the form of massive piles of rocks, but
without interposing any difficult places where it was necessary to halt
or grope one’s way.
The little company had penetrated more than a mile in this manner
without hearing or seeing anything to cause alarm. Mul-tal-la was beyond
sight, but the boys, George leading, were silent, listening and peering
into the gloom, which, as yet, was unlighted by the moon. That would not
rise for some time to come.
Suddenly a soft tremulous whistle came from the front. This was the
signal agreed upon, and the brothers instantly halted. Zigzag was so
well trained that he did the same. It had been deemed best to place him
between Jack and Prince, so as to hem him in, as may be said.
Fortunately the check came at a favorable point. The rocks and
undergrowth on the right offered a good place for hiding, and George
Shelton, slipping from his saddle, grasped the bridle rein of his horse
and forced him to one side. The animal stumbled, but a few steps took
him far enough. Leaving him, George dashed back to Zigzag, and with
harder work almost dragged him after Jack. Victor was on the ground
almost as soon as his brother, so that the boys and three horses were
speedily bunched together, beyond sight of anyone passing over the trail
unless his attention was drawn to them.
Quick as they had been the precaution was not a minute too soon.
Mul-tal-la must have failed to discover his peril until it was almost
upon him.
The first warning was a singular one. A sneeze sounded, followed by a
guttural exclamation, and the next moment the crouching lads saw the dim
outlines of a warrior striding stealthily over the pass to the eastward.
He was moving slowly, with head thrust forward, and carried a long bow
in his hand. Before he passed out of sight a second loomed to view, then
a third, a fourth and a fifth—all gliding like so many phantoms of the
night, and doubtless making for the supposed camp of the travelers a
mile or more away.
Stooping low and silently watching the shadows, the brothers were
beginning to breathe freely when, to their consternation, Zigzag emitted
a whinny which, in the stillness, could have been heard half a mile
away.
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