We made an attempt to open the interrupted parley. In vain. Whatever
amicable design the Red-Hand might have conceived was now changed to a
feeling of the most deadly hostility. There was no more "talk" to be
drawn from him--not a word. In the midst of his warriors, he stood
scowling and silent. Neither did any of the chiefs deign to reply. The
common braves made answers to our overtures; but only by the insult of a
peculiar gesture. Any hopes we might have conceived of a pacific
termination to the encounter, died within us as we noted the behaviour
of the band. Whether the Indian was in earnest in the proposal he had
made, or whether it was a mere scheme to get our scalps without fighting
for them, we could not tell at the time. There was an air of
probability that he was honest about the matter; but, on the other hand,
his notorious character for hostility to the white race contradicted
this probability. I had heard, moreover, that this same chief was in
the habit of adopting such stratagems to get white men into his power.
We had no time to speculate upon the point; nor yet upon that which
puzzled us far more--how he had arrived at the knowledge of who we were!
What could he have known of the "White Eagle of the forest," or the
"young soldier-chief?" So far as I was myself concerned, the title
might have been explained.
My uniform--I still wore it--might have been espied upon the prairies?
The Indians are quick at catching an appellation, and communicating it
to one another. But the figurative soubriquet of the young hunter?
That was more specific. The Red-Hand could not have used it
accidentally? Impossible. It bespoke a knowledge of us, and our
affairs, that appeared mysterious and inexplicable. It did not fail to
recall to our memory the apparition that had astonished Wingrove in the
morning. There was no opportunity to discuss the question. We had only
time for the most vague conjectures--before the savages began to fire at
us--discharging in rapid succession the guns which they had loaded.
We soon perceived that we had little to fear from this sort of attack.
Unless by some stray bullet, there was not much danger of their hitting
us. Their clumsy _manege_ of the fire-weapon was evident enough. It
added to the probability, that the chief had been in earnest about our
giving instructions to his warriors. Still was there some degree of
danger. The guns they had got hold of were large ones--most of them old
muskets of heavy calibre--that cast their ounces of lead to a long
distance. We heard their bullets pattering against the rocks, and one
or two of them had passed whistling over our heads. It was just
possible to get hit; and, to avoid such an accident, we crouched behind
our parapet, as closely as if we had been screening ourselves from the
most expert marksmen. For a long time we did not return their fire.
O'Tigg was desirous of trying another shot with his piece, but I forbade
it. Warned by what they had witnessed, the Indians had retired beyond
even the range of the Serjeant's fusil.
Two parties of savages now separate from the main body; and, taking
opposite directions, go sweeping at full gallop round the butte. We
divine their object. They have discovered the position of our animals:
the intention is to _stampede_ them. We perceive the importance of
preventing this. If we can but keep our animals out of the hands of the
savages until darkness come down, then may there be some prospect of our
escaping by flight. True, it is only a faint hope. There are many
contingencies by which the design may be defeated, but there are also
circumstances to favour it; and to yield without a struggle, would only
be to deliver ourselves into the hands of an unpitying foe. The last
words uttered by the Arapaho chief have warned us that death will be
preferable to captivity.
We are sustained by another remembrance. We know that we are not the
first white men who have been thus surrounded, and who afterwards
contrived to escape. Many a small band of brave trappers have sustained
the attack of a whole Indian tribe; and though half of their number may
have fallen, the others lived to relate the perilous adventure. The
life of a determined man is difficult to take. A desperate sortie often
proves the safest defence; and three or four resolute arms will cut a
loophole of escape through a host of enemies. Some such thoughts,
flitting before us, hinder us from succumbing to despair.
It was of the utmost importance, to prevent our animals from being swept
off; and to this end were our energies now directed. Three of us faced
towards them--leaving the fourth to watch the movements of the enemy on
the other side of the butte.
Once more the wild cry rings among the rocks, as the red horsemen gallop
around--rattling their shields, and waving their weapons high in the
air. These demonstrations are made to affright our animals, and cause
them to break from their fastenings. They have not the desired effect.
The mules prance and hinnie; the horses neigh and bound over the grass;
but the long boughs bend without breaking: and, acting as elastic
springs, give full play to the affrighted creatures. Not a rein snaps--
not a lazo breaks--not a loop slides from its hold! The first skurry is
over; and we are gratified to see the four quadrupeds still grouped
around the tree, and fast as ever to its branches. The _stampede_ has
proved a failure. Another swoop of the wild horsemen ends with like
result: and then another. And now closer and closer they come--
galloping in all directions, crossing and meeting, and wheeling and
circling--with shrill screams and violent gesticulations. As they pass
near, they shelter themselves behind the bodies of their horses. An arm
over the withers, a leg above the croup, are all of the riders we can
see. It is useless to fire at these. The horses we might tumble over
at pleasure; but the men offer no point to aim at. At intervals a red
face gleams through the tossing locks of the mane; but, ere we can take
sight upon it, it is jerked away. For a considerable time this play is
kept up, the Indians all the time yelling as if engaged in some terrible
conflict.
As to ourselves, we are too wary to waste our shots upon the horses; and
we reserve them in the hope of being able to "draw a bead" on some rider
more reckless than the rest. The opportunity soon offers. Two of the
savages exhibit a determination to succeed in snatching away the horses.
Knife in hand, they career around, evidently with the design of cutting
the bridles and lazoes. Cheered on by the shouts of their comrades,
they grow less careful of their skins, and at length make a dash towards
the group under the tree. When almost within head-reach of the
fastenings by which the mules are held, one of the latter slews suddenly
round, and sends her heels in a well-directed fling against the head of
the foremost horse! The steed instantly wheels, and the other coming
behind follows the same movement, exposing both the riders to our aim.
They make an effort to throw themselves to the other side of their
animals; but the opportunity is lost. Our rifles are too quick for
them. Two of us fire at the same instant; and as the smoke clears away,
the red robbers are seen sprawling upon the plain. Our shots have
proved fatal. Before we can reload, the struggles of the fallen
horsemen have ended; and both lie motionless upon the grass.
The lesson was sufficient for the time. Warned by the fate of their
comrades, the Indians, although still continuing their noisy
demonstrations, now kept well out of the range of our rifles. There
appeared to be no others in the band, desirous of achieving fame at such
a risk of life.