"Dead red-skin! Hurrah for Barney!"
"Barney's bullet through him, by the holies!" cried another. "Hollo,
old sky-blue! Come hyar and see what ye've done!"
The rest of the hunters, along with the _ci-devant_ soldier, now rode
forward to the copse. I moved slowly after. On coming up, I saw them
dragging the body of an Indian into the open ground: a naked savage,
like the other. He was dead, and they were preparing to scalp him.
"Come now, Barney!" cried one of the men in a joking manner, "the har's
your'n. Why don't ye off wid it, man?"
"It's moine, dev yez say?" asked Barney, appealing to the speaker.
"Sartinly; you killed him. It's your'n by right."
"An' it is raaly worth fifty dollars?"
"Good as wheat for that."
"Would yez be so frindly, thin, as to cut it aff for me?"
"Oh! sartinly, wid all the plizyer of life," replied the hunter,
imitating Barney's accent, at the same time severing the scalp, and
handing it to him.
Barney took the hideous trophy, and I fancy that he did not feel very
proud of it. Poor Celt! he may have been guilty of many a breach in the
laws of garrison discipline, but it was evident that this was his first
lesson in the letting of human blood.
The hunters now dismounted, and commenced trampling the thicket through
and through. The search was most minute, for there was still a mystery.
An extra bow--that is to say, a third--had been found, with its quiver
of arrows. Where was the owner? Could he have escaped from the thicket
while the men were engaged around the fallen buffaloes? He might,
though it was barely probable; but the hunters knew that these savages
run more like wild animals, like hares, than human beings, and he might
have escaped to the chapparal.
"If that Injun has got clar," said Garey, "we've no time to lose in
skinnin' them bufflers. Thar's plenty o' his tribe not twenty miles
from hyar, I calc'late."
"Look down among the willows there!" cried the voice of the chief;
"close down to the water."
There was a pool. It was turbid and trampled around the edges with
buffalo tracks. On one side it was deep. Here willows dropped over and
hung into the water. Several men pressed into this side, and commenced
sounding the bottom with their lances and the butts of their rifles.
Old Rube had come up among the rest, and was drawing the stopper of his
powder-horn with his teeth, apparently with the intention of reloading.
His small dark eyes were scintillating every way at once: above, around
him, and into the water.
A sudden thought seemed to enter his head. I saw him push back the
plug, grasp the Irishman, who was nearest him, by the arm, and mutter,
in a low and hurried voice, "Paddy! Barney! gi' us yur gun; quick, man,
quick!"
Barney, at this earnest solicitation, immediately surrendered his piece,
taking the empty rifle that was thrust into his hand by the trapper.
Rube eagerly grasped the musket, and stood for a moment as if he was
about to fire at some object in the pond. Suddenly he jerked his body
round, and, poising the gun upward, fired into the thick foliage.
A shrill scream followed; a heavy body came crashing through the
branches, and struck the ground at my feet. Warm drops sparkled into my
eyes, causing me to wince. It was blood! I was blinded with it; I
rubbed my eyes to clear them. I heard men rushing from all parts of the
thicket. When I could see again, a naked savage was just disappearing
through the leaves.
"Missed him!" cried the trapper. "Away wi' yur sodger gun!" he added,
flinging down the musket, and rushing after the savage with his drawn
knife.
I followed among the rest. I heard several shots as we scrambled
through the brushwood.
When I had got to the outer edge I could see the Indian still on his
feet, and running with the speed of an antelope. He did not keep in a
direct line, but zigzag, leaping from side to side, in order to baffle
the aim of his pursuers, whose rifles were all the time ringing behind
him. As yet none of their bullets had taken effect, at least so as to
cripple him. There was a streak of blood visible on his brown body, but
the wound, wherever it was did not seem to hinder him in his flight.
I thought there could be no chance of his escape, and I had no intention
of emptying my gun at such a mark. I remained, therefore, among the
bushes, screening myself behind the leaves and watching the chase.
Some of the hunters continued to follow him on foot, while the more
cunning ones rushed back for their horses. These happened to be all on
the opposite side of the thicket, with one exception, and that was the
mare of the trapper Rube. She was browsing where Rube had dismounted,
out among the slaughtered buffaloes, and directly in the line of the
chase.
As the savage approached her, a sudden thought seemed to strike him, and
diverging slightly from his course, he plucked up the picket-pin, coiled
the lasso with the dexterity of a gaucho, and sprang upon the animal's
back.
It was a well-conceived idea, but unfortunate for the Indian. He had
scarcely touched the saddle when a peculiar shout was heard above all
other sounds. It was a call uttered in the voice of the earless
trapper. The mustang recognised it; and instead of running forward,
obedient to the guidance of her rider, she wheeled suddenly and came
galloping back. At this moment a shot fired at the savage scorched her
hip, and, setting back her ears, she commenced squealing and kicking so
violently that all her feet seemed to be in the air at the same time.
The Indian now endeavoured to fling himself from the saddle; but the
alternate plunging of the fore and hind quarters kept him for some
moments tossing in a sort of balance. He was at length pitched outward,
and fell to the ground upon his back. Before he could recover himself a
Mexican had ridden up, and with his long lance pinned him to the earth.
A scene followed in which Rube played the principal character; in fact,
had "the stage to himself."
"Sodger guns" were sent to perdition; and as the old trapper was angry
about the wound which his mare had received, "crook-eyed greenhorns"
came in for a share of his anathemas. The mustang, however, had
sustained no serious damage; and after this was ascertained, the
emphatic ebullitions of her master's anger subsided into a low growling,
and then ceased altogether.
As there appeared no sign that there were other savages in the
neighbourhood, the next concern of the hunters was to satisfy their
hunger. Fires were soon kindled, and a plenteous repast of buffalo meat
produced the desired effect.
After the meal was ended, a consultation was held. It was agreed that
we should move forward to the old mission, which was known to be not
over ten miles distant. We could there defend ourselves in case of an
attack from the tribe of Coyoteros, to which the three savages belonged.
It was feared by all that these might strike our trail, and come up
with us before we could take our departure from the ruin.
The buffaloes were speedily skinned and packed, and taking a westerly
course, we journeyed on to the mission.