A YOUNG HUNTER'S STRATEGY.
Fred Linden walked rapidly forward until he reached the middle of the
prairie, when he paused and bent his eyes on the swiftly vanishing drove
of buffaloes. They were speeding at right angles to the course he had
been following, and, so far as he could judge at the distance, were on
the same dead run with which they started.
He was convinced that he was mistaken a brief while before, when, for a
moment, he thought he caught a glimpse of Terry on the back of the
terrified bull. He was unable to distinguish any thing that looked like
him. He might--and it was not at all improbable--be still clinging to
his steed, but he was too far off and too mixed up with the others for
even the keen eyes of Fred Linden to identify him.
There seemed but the one thing to do: that was to follow the drove
until he learned the fate of his friend. Certain that he would find him
sooner or later, Fred resorted again to his loping trot, which he could
keep up for several hours without great fatigue.
But he had not gone twenty steps at this gait, when, to his astonishment
and alarm, he observed three Indian warriors, each mounted on a horse,
issue from the wood at the point where the buffaloes would have entered
it had they not turned to the left. The red men headed their animals
directly toward Fred, and advanced at a moderate gallop.
The sight was enough to make the bravest person thoughtful; for you will
readily see the critical situation of the boy. It was useless to turn
and run, for they would overhaul him before he could get half way to
cover. He was in the middle of a grassy prairie, where there was not the
slightest object which could be used as a screen in a fight with them.
He glanced quickly about, but did not see a stone as large as his hand.
Except so far as his weapons were concerned, he was absolutely
helpless.
Never did Fred Linden display more coolness and knowledge of Indian
character than he did at this time when caught at such fearful
disadvantage. He knew that if he showed any timidity, the red men would
attack him at once, while, if he could deceive them, as he hoped, there
was a possibility that he would escape.
Two hundred yards away, the Indians drew their cantering horses down to
a walk: they evidently saw there was no call for haste and they could
afford to take all the time they wished. They were riding beside each
other, instead of in Indian file, and being nigh enough to be observed
distinctly, showed that they were dressed precisely like the Winnebagos
whom he had noticed the night before around their camp-fire. This might
have been, had they belonged to another totem, for there is a similarity
in the dress of different tribes, but Fred had no doubt that these were
Winnebagos. It began to look indeed as if there was an irruption of them
into that section of the Louisiana Territory.
During those trying moments, when Fred calmly watched the approach of
the dusky horsemen, he was observant of the smallest things. He recalled
that they were the same in number as the party which he and Terry so
narrowly missed the night before on the edge of the stream and he half
suspected they were the same, though such supposition did not correspond
with the theories formed and accepted at the time.
He saw the middle horse, which was darker in color than the others,
slightly stumble; then the rider turned his head and said something to
the warrior on his left, who made answer without taking his eyes from
Fred; then the one on the right said something, his painted features
relaxing into a frightful grin, the guttural words being plainly
audible: all these points being noticed, as I have said, by the young
hunter who had so much more important matters to engage his thoughts.
He recalled with relief that on picking up the gun of Terry he had
reloaded it, so that he now had two weapons ready for use. With these he
could make a brave resistance, and you may depend upon it that the last
thing he thought of doing was to surrender. He might easily be shot
down where he stood, but he would die fighting.
The three horsemen advanced with the same deliberate pace, their black
eyes fixed upon Fred, who stood erect, looking straight at them. When
they were within twenty yards, he quietly turned so as to face the other
way, and waved his cap several times over his head. At the same moment
he uttered a resounding whoop, replaced his cap, laid Terry's rifle at
his feet and leveled his own at the amazed savages, who could not have
suspected what was coming.
You understand that the purpose of Fred was to make the Winnebagos
believe that he had friends on the edge of the wood behind him to whom
he had signaled. The act of laying down his gun was to give the
impression that he was so sure of support that he was ready to fight
until it should appear.
Now, the red men might have been deceived by this to as full an extent
as the youth desired, but the fact remained that, even if there were
re-enforcements on the margin of the prairie, they were so far off that
they could give no help if the Indians chose to assail the boy. I am
inclined to think that had the Winnebagos believed that a dozen white
hunters were encamped there, they would not have been restrained from
carrying out their design by such fact: but when the cool defiance of
the youth was added to the same, there was enough to make them pause.
They might shoot him down, wheel and dash for the woods from which they
had emerged but a short time before; but they would be liable to
pursuit, and, when a white borderer takes to the trail, he can be as
persistent as the red man himself, though, as I have said, had they been
eager to shoot the boy, they would not have been stopped by that
knowledge. But they saw that he had his loaded rifle leveled at them:
each Winnebago probably imagined he would be the special target. Their
guns were still in their hands and no doubt the moment any one attempted
to raise his weapon the white boy would fire.
The distance was so short that there could be no miss. It followed
therefore that the cost of an assault upon the lad would be the death
of one of the Winnebagos, and none of the three could know that he would
not be the victim.
The cost was more than they were willing to pay, for it must be borne in
mind that not only was the death of one of their number considered
assured, but it was not at all unlikely that such a daring youngster
would be able to do something with the gun at his feet before
succumbing.
But it is not to be supposed that three mounted Indians would
deliberately ride away from a single youth through fear alone,--that is,
not until they had tried to circumvent him by strategy. And so it came
to pass that within the same minute that Fred raised his rifle, the
Winnebago who sat in the middle waved his hand toward him as a sign of
comity. At the same time he called out: "Yenghese! Long Knife!
Friend--friend--friend!"
But Fred knew too much to be deceived. He was the master of more
vigorous English, and, without lowering his gun, he called out:
"Keep off or I'll fire! If you ride another step, I'll let daylight
through you!"
As if to add emphasis to his words, he gently swayed his rifle from
right to left, so that it covered each warrior in turn. There was an
involuntary ducking of the heads, and the Indians, seeing that nothing
was to be done without large risk, opened out--two riding to the right
and one to the left. Thus they passed by Fred without lessening the
space between him and them.
After all, this was the most trying moment to the youth, for it diverted
his attention in the most exasperating manner. The three horsemen were
in his field of vision, but it was hard to keep watch upon each. He
suspected the maneuver was for the purpose of taking him off his guard,
but it is doubtful whether such was the case, for there was something in
the grim pose of the youthful hunter which warned them that it was
unsafe to trifle with him.
When the horsemen were opposite each other and on a line with Fred, he
suddenly wheeled with great quickness and held his piece still leveled
so that he could shift it from one to the other the moment needed. On
their part, the Winnebagos watched him with cat-like vigilance, keeping
their heads turned until they came together a hundred feet beyond, and
between him and the wood which he had just left. There they stopped,
their position such that the sides of their animals were turned toward
the lad, whom they continued to view with an interest that it is safe to
say they had never felt in any other of his race.
It was tiresome to hold his heavy rifle leveled, but Fred stuck to it,
for he knew how much depended on the next minute or two.
It looked for a time as though the Winnebagos had decided not to leave
without a demonstration, but finally they moved off with their backs
toward Fred, and their horses on a walk.
"How nicely I could pick one of them off," said he to himself, as the
broad shoulders, with the black hair streaming over them, moved gently
up and down with the motion of the animals, and ranged themselves beside
each other like three dusky targets. "I could hit _him_ or _him_ or
_him_" he added, shifting his aim from one to the other in turn, "and
it's because they know it that they are afraid to risk a shot. If one
of them had made a motion to take aim, I would have let fly, and I
wouldn't have missed either. Then I would have done something with
Terry's gun."
These thoughts had hardly found expression, when the middle Winnebago
suddenly turned on his horse, raised his gun and discharged it at Fred
Linden. The instant he did so, he and his two companions threw
themselves forward on their animals and dashed off on a dead run for the
wood.
Had the warrior been less hurried, it is probable he would have struck
the astonished youth, who plainly heard the _pinge_ of the bullet as it
almost touched his ear. His own arms were beginning to ache because of
their constrained position, but he took as careful aim as possible and
fired at the savage who fired at him.
More than that, he hit him. A screeching yawp broke the stillness, the
warrior half straightened up on his steed, seemed to sway, and would
have fallen had not one of his companions caught his shoulder and
supported him for a minute or two. The horses were brought down to a
walk, and finally came to a standstill, though they halted at a point
beyond rifle shot.
"I hope I finished him," muttered Fred Linden, with a snap of his eyes;
"they are seeking my life, and, if I could have my way, I would tumble
every one of them off his horse."
Never was the value of two rifles shown more strikingly than at this
time. The moment his gun was discharged--had he possessed no other--Fred
would have been helpless, and the Winnebagos would have been upon him
before he could reload his piece; for that was in the days of
flint-locks, when the charge had to be rammed down and the powder poured
into the pan before the weapon was ready for use. It may be said,
however, that under such circumstances he would not have fired.
But before the horsemen could wheel about, they would have found the
youth standing at "present arms" precisely as before, and the situation
unchanged, except that one of their own number had been disabled, and to
that extent (which was considerable) the gain was on the side of the
lad.
There could be little doubt that the stricken Winnebago was hit hard,
though after some attention from his companions, he was able to sit his
horse. The three warriors seemed to have lost all interest in Fred, for
a few minutes later they rode off at a walk, without, so far as he could
judge, once bestowing a look upon him.
It struck him as singular that after his stratagem, by which he believed
he gave the impression that he had a party of friends on the margin of
the wood, that the Winnebagos should guide their horses to the very
point. After all, it began to look as though he was not so successful in
that respect as he imagined, and that it was his own courageous demeanor
that for the time had saved his life.
"I am glad they have ridden off in that direction," said the youth to
himself, as he saw them carefully enter the wood, where they were lost
from sight; "for if they had ridden the other way they would have
bothered me in my hunt for Terry."