Dick Goes Scouting
Dick did not believe that the timber wolves, after suffering so
much in the pursuit of Albert, would venture again to attack
either his brother or himself. He knew that the wolf was one of
the shrewdest of all animals, and that, unless the circumstances
were very unusual indeed, the sight of a gun would be sufficient
to warn them off. Nevertheless, he decided to begin a campaign
against them, though he had to wait a day or two until Albert's
shaken nerves were restored.
They wished to save their ammunition as much as possible, and
they built three large dead falls, in which they caught six or
seven great wolves, despite their cunning. In addition they
hunted them with rifles with great patience and care, never
risking a shot until they felt quite sure that it would find a
vital spot. In this manner they slew about fifteen more, and by
that time the wolves were thoroughly terrified. The scent of the
beings carrying sticks which poured forth death and destruction
at almost any distance, was sufficient to send the boldest band
of timber wolves scurrying into the shadows of the deepest forest
in search of hiding and safety.
The snow melted and poured in a thousand streams from the
mountains. The river and all the creeks and brooks roared in
torrents, the earth soaked in water, and the two boys spent much
of the time indoors making new clothing, repairing traps and
nets, and fashioning all kinds of little implements that were of
use in their daily life. They could realize, only because they
now had to make them, how numerous such implements were. Yet
they made toasting sticks of hard wood, carved out wooden
platters, constructed a rude but serviceable dining table, added
to their supply of traps of various kinds, and finally made two
large baskets of split willow. The last task was not as
difficult as some others, as both had seen and taken a part in
basket making in Illinois. The cabin was now crowded to
inconvenience. Over their beds, from side to side, and up under
the sloping roof, they had fastened poles, and from all of these
hung furs and skins, buffalo, deer, wolf, wild cat, beaver,
wolverine, and others, and also stores of jerked game. The Annex
was in the same crowded condition. The boys had carried the
hollow somewhat higher up with their axes, but the extension gave
them far less room than they needed.
"It's just this, Dick," said Albert, "we getting so rich that we
don't know what to do with all our property. I used to think it
a joke that the rich were unhappy, but now I see where their
trouble comes in."
"I know that the trappers cache their furs, that is, bury them or
hide them until they can take them away," said Dick, "but we
don't know how to bury furs so they'll keep all right. Still,
we've got to find a new place of some kind. Besides, it would be
better to have them hidden where only you and I could find them,
Al. Maybe we can find such a place."
Albert agreed, and they began a search along the cliffs. Dick
knew that extensive rocky formations must mean a cave or an
opening of some kind, if they only looked long enough for it,
at last they found in the side of a slope a place that he thought
could be made to suit. It was a rocky hollow running back about
fifteen feet, and with a height and width of perhaps ten feet.
It was approached by an opening about four feet in height and two
feet in width. Dick wondered at first that it had not been used
as a den by some wild animal, but surmised that the steepness of
the ascent and the extreme roughness of the rocky floor had kept
them out.
But these very qualities recommended the hollow to the boys for
the use that they intended it. Its position in the side of the
cliff made it a hard place to find, and the solid rock of its
floor, walls, and roof insured the dryness that was necessary for
the storage of their furs.
"We'll call this the Cliff House," said Albert, "and we'll take
possession at once."
They broke off the sharper of the stone projections with their ax
heads, and then began the transfer of the furs. It was no light
task to carry them up the step slope to the Cliff House, but,
forced to do all things for themselves, they had learned
perseverance, and they carried all their stock of beaver furs and
all the buffalo robes and bearskins, except those in actual use,
together with a goodly portion of the wolfskins, elk hides, and
others.
Dick made a rude but heavy door which fitted well enough into the
opening to keep out any wild animal, no matter how small, and in
front of it, in a little patch of soft soil, they set out two
transplanted pine bushes which seemed to take root, and which
Dick was sure would grow in the spring.
When the boys looked up from the bottom of the slope, they saw no
trace of the Cliff House, only an expanse of rock, save a little
patch of earth where two tiny pines were growing.
"Nobody but ourselves will ever find our furs!" exclaimed Dick
exultingly. "The most cunning Indian would not dream that
anything was hidden up there behind those little pines, and the
furs will keep as well inside as if they were in the best
storehouse ever built."
The discovery and use of the rock cache was a great relief to
both. Their cabin had become so crowded with furs and stores,
that the air was often thick and heavy, and they did not have
what Dick called elbow room. Now they used the cabin almost
exclusively for living purposes. Most of the stores were in the
Annex, while the dry and solid Cliff House held the furs.
"Have you thought, Dick, what you and I are?" asked Albert.
"I don't catch your meaning."
"We're aristocrats of the first water, Mr. Richard Howard and Mr.
Albert Howard, the Mountain Kings. We can't get along with less
than four residences. We live in Castle Howard, the main
mansion, superior to anything of its kind in a vast region; then
we have the Annex, a tower used chiefly as a supply room and
treasure chest; then the Suburban Villa, a light, airy place of
graceful architecture, very suitable as a summer residence, and
now we have the Cliff House, in a lofty and commanding position
noted for its wonderful view. We are really a fortunate pair,
Dick."
"I've been thinking that for sometime," replied Dick rather
gravely.
Hitherto they had confined their operations chiefly to their own
side of the lake, but as they ranged farther and farther in
search of furs they began to prowl among the canyons and narrow
valleys in the mountains on the other side. They made, rather
far up the northern side, some valuable catches of beaver, but in
order to return with them, they were compelled to come around
either the northern or southern end of the lake, and the round
trip was tremendously long and tiring.
"It's part of a man's business to economize time and strength,"
said Dick, "and we must do it. You and I, Al, are going to make
a canoe."
"How?"
"I don't know just yet, but I'm studying it out. The idea will
jump out of my head in two or three days."
It was four days before it jumped, but when it did, it jumped to
some purpose.
"First, we'll make a dugout," he said. "We've got the tools--axes,
knives, saws, and augers--and we'd better start with that."
They cut down a big and perfectly straight pine and chose a
length of about twelve feet from the largest part of the trunk.
Both boys had seen dugouts, and they knew, in a general way, how
to proceed. Their native intelligence supplied the rest.
They cut off one side of the log until it was flat, thus making
the bottom for the future canoe. They cut the opposite side away
in the well-known curve that a boat makes, low in the middle and
high at each end. This part of the work was done with great
caution, but Dick had an artistic eye, and they made a fairly
good curve. Next they began the tedious and laborious work of
digging out, using axes, hatchets, and chisel.
This was a genuine test of Albert's new strength, but he stood it
nobly. They chipped away for a long time, until the wood on the
sides and bottom was thin but strong enough to stand any
pressure. Then they made the proper angle and curve of bow and
stern, cut and made two stout broad paddles, and their dugout was
ready--a long canoe with a fairly good width, as the original
log had been more than two feet in diameter. It was both light
and strong, and, raising it on their shoulders, they carried it
down to the lake where they put it in the water.
Albert, full of enthusiasm, sprang into the canoe and made a
mighty sweep with his paddle. The light dugout shot away, tipped
on one side, and as Albert made another sweep with his paddle to
right it, it turned over, bottom side up, casting the rash young
paddler into ten feet of pure cold water. Albert came up with a
mighty splash and sputter. He was a good swimmer, and he had
also retained hold of the paddle unconsciously, perhaps. Dick
regarded him contemplatively from the land. He had no idea of
jumping in. One wet and cold boy was enough. Beside, rashness
deserved its punishment.
"Get the canoe before it floats farther away," he called out,
"and tow it to land. It has cost us too much work to be lost out
on the lake."
Albert swam to the canoe, which was now a dozen yards away, and
quickly towed it and the paddle to land. There, shivering, the
water running from him in streams, he stepped upon the solid
earth.
"Run to the cabin as fast as you can," said Dick. "Take off those
wet things, rub yourself down before the fire; then put on
dry clothes and come back here and help me."
Albert needed no urging, but it seemed to him that he would
freeze before he reached the cabin, short as the distance was.
Fortunately, there was a good fire on the hearth, and, after he
had rubbed down and put on his dry, warm suit of deerskin, he
never felt finer in his life. He returned to the lake, but he
felt sheepish on the way. That had been a rash movement of his,
overenthusiastic, but he had been properly punished. His chagrin
was increased when he saw Dick a considerable distance out on the
lake in the canoe, driving it about in graceful curves with long
sweeps of his paddle.
"This is the way it ought to be done," called out Dick cheerily.
"Behold me, Richard Howard, the king of canoe men!"
"You've been practicing while I was gone!" exclaimed Albert.
"No doubt of it, my young friend, and that is why you see me
showing such skill, grace, and knowledge. I give you the same
recipe without charge: Look before you leap, especially if you're
going to leap into a canoe. Now we'll try it together."
He brought the canoe back to land, Albert got in cautiously, and
for the rest of the day they practiced paddling, both together
and alone. Albert got another ducking, and Dick, in a moment of
overconfidence, got one, too, somewhat to Albert's pleasure and
relief, as it has been truly said that misery loves company, but
in two or three days they learned to use the canoe with ease.
Then, either together or alone, they would paddle boldly the full
length of the lake, and soon acquired dexterity enough to use it
for freight, too; that is, they would bring back in it across the
lake anything that they had shot or trapped on the other side.
So completely had they lost count of time that Dick had an idea
spring was coming, but winter suddenly shut down upon them
again. It did not arrive with wind and snow this time, but in
the night a wave of cold came down from the north so intense that
the sheltered valley even did not repel it.
Dick and Albert did not appreciate how really cold it was until
they went from the cabin into the clear morning air, when they were
warned by the numbing sensation that assailed their ears and noses.
They hurried into the house and thawed out their faces, which
stung greatly as they were exposed to the fire. Remembering the
experiences of their early boyhood, they applied cold water freely,
which allayed the stinging. After that they were very careful to
wrap up fingers, ears, and noses when they went forth.
Now, the channel that Albert had made from the water of the hot
spring proved of great use. The water that came boiling from the
earth cooled off rapidly, but it was not yet frozen when it
reached the side of Castle Howard, and they could make use of it.
The very first morning they found their new boat, of which they
were so proud, hard and fast with ten inches of solid ice all
around it. Albert suggested leaving it there.
"We have no need of it so long as the lake is covered with ice,"
he said, "and when the ice melts it will be released."
But Dick looked a little farther. The ice might press in on it
and crush it, and hence Albert and he cut it out with axes, after
which they put it in the lee of the cabin. Meanwhile, when they
wished to reach the traps on the farther side of the lake, they
crossed it on the ice, and, presuming that the cold might last
long, they easily made a rude sledge which they used in place of
the canoe.
"If we can't go through the water, we can at least go over it,"
said Albert.
While the great cold lasted, a period of about two weeks, the
boys went on no errands except to their traps. The cold was so
intense that often they could hear the logs of Castle Howard
contracting with a sound like pistol shots. Then they would
build the fire high and sit comfortably before it. Fortunately,
the valley afforded plenty of fuel. Both boys wished now that
they had a few books, but books were out of the question, and
they sought always to keep themselves busy with the tasks that
their life in the valley entailed upon them. Both knew that this
was best.
The cold was so great that even the wild animals suffered from
it. The timber wolves, despite their terrible lessons, were
driven by it down the valley, and at night a stray one now and
then would howl mournfully near the cabin.
"He's a robber and would like to be a murderer," Albert would
say, "but he probably smells this jerked buffalo meat that I'm
cooking and I'm sorry for him."
But the wolves were careful to keep out of rifle shot.
Dick made one trip up the valley and found about fifty buffaloes
sheltered in a deep ravine and clustering close together for
warmth. They were quite thin, as the grass, although it had been
protected by the snow, was very scanty at that period of the
year. Dick could have obtained a number of good robes, but he
spared them.
"Maybe I won't be so soft-hearted when the spring comes and you
are fatter," he said.
The two, about this time, took stock of their ammunition, which
was the most vital of all things to them. For sometime they had
used both the shot and ball cartridges only in cases of
necessity, and they were relying more and more on traps,
continually devising new kinds, their skill and ingenuity
increasing with practice.
Dick had brought a great store of cartridges from the last train,
especially from the unrifled wagon in the gully, and both boys
were surprised to see how many they had left. They had enough to
last a long time, according to their present mode of life.
"If you are willing, that settles it," said Dick.
"If I am willing for what?" asked Albert.
"Willing to stay over another year. You see, Al, we've wandered
into a happy hunting ground. There are more furs, by the
hundreds, for the taking, and it seems that this is a lost
valley. Nobody else comes here. Besides, you are doing
wonderfully. All that old trouble is gone, and we want it to
stay gone. If we stay here another year, and you continue to eat
the way you do and grow the way you do, you'll be able to take a
buffalo by the horns and wring its neck."
Albert grinned pleasantly at his brother.
"You don't have to beg me to stay," he said. "I like this
valley. It has given me life and what is to be our fortune, our
furs. Why not do all we can while we can? I'm in favor of the
extra year, Dick."
"Then no more need be said about it. The Cliff House isn't half
full of furs yet, but in another year we can fill it."
The great cold began to break up, the ice on the lake grew
thinner and thinner and then disappeared, much of the big game
left the valley, the winds from the north ceased to blow, and in
their stead came breezes from the south, tipped with warmth.
Dick knew that spring was near. It was no guess, he could feel
it in every bone of him, and he rejoiced. He had had enough of
winter, and it gave him the keenest pleasure when he saw tiny
blades of new grass peeping up in sheltered places here and
there.
Dick, although he was not conscious of it, had changed almost as
much as Albert in the last eight or nine months. He had had no
weak chest and throat to cure, but his vigorous young frame had
responded nobly to the stimulus of self-reliant life. The
physical experience, as well as the mental, of those eight or
nine months, had been equal to five times their number spent
under ordinary conditions, and he had grown greatly in every
respect. Few men were as strong, as agile, and as alert as he.
He and Albert, throughout that long winter, had been sufficient
unto each other. They had a great sense of ownership, the valley
and all its manifold treasurers belonged to them--a feeling that
was true, as no one else came to claim it--and they believed
that in their furs they were acquiring and ample provision for a
start in life.
When the first tender shades of green began to appear in the
valley and on the slopes, Dick decided upon a journey.
"Do you know, Al, how long we have been in this valley?" he
asked.
"Eight or ten months, I suppose," replied Albert.
"It must be something like that, and we've been entirely away
from our race. If we had anybody to think about us--although we
haven't--they'd be sure that we are dead. We're just as
ignorant of what is happening in the world, and I want to go on a
skirmishing trip over the mountains. You keep house while I'm
gone."
Albert offered mild objections, which he soon withdrew, as at
heart he thought his brother right, and the next day, early in
the morning, Dick started on his journey. He carried jerked
buffalo meat in a deerskin pouch that he had made for himself,
his customary repeating rifle, revolver, and a serviceable
hatchet.
"Look after things closely, Al," said Dick, "and don't bother
about setting the traps. Furs are not good in the spring."
"All right," responded Albert. "How long do you think you'll be
gone?"
"Can't say, precisely. Three or four days, I presume, but don't
you worry unless it's a full week."
It was characteristic of the strength and self-restraint acquired
by the two that they parted with these words and a hand clasp
only, yet both had deep feeling. Dick looked back from the mouth
of the cleft toward Castle Howard and saw a boy in front of it
waving a cap. He waved his own in reply and then went forward
more swiftly down the valley.
It did not take him long to reach the first slope, and, when he
had ascended a little, he paused for rest and inspection. Spring
had really made considerable progress. All the trees except the
evergreens had put forth young leaves and, as he looked toward
the north, the mountains unrolled like a vast green blanket that
swept away in ascending folds until it ended, and then the peaks
and ridges, white with snow, began.
Dick climbed father, and their valley was wholly lost to sight.
It was not so wonderful after all that nobody came to it.
Trappers who knew of it long ago never returned, believing that
the beaver were all gone forever, and it was too near to the
warlike Sioux of the plains for mountain Indians to make a home
there.
Dick did not stop long for the look backward--he was too intent
upon his mission--but resumed the ascent with light foot and
light heart. He remembered very well the way in which he and
Albert had come, and he followed it on the return. All night,
with his buffalo robe about him, he slept in the pine alcove that
had been the temporary home of Albert and himself. He could see
no change in it in all the months, except traces to show that
some wild animal had slept there.
"Maybe you'll come to-night, Mr. Bear or Mr. Mountain Lion, to
sleep in your little bed." said Dick as he lay down in his
buffalo robe, "but you'll find me here before you."
He was wise enough to know that neither bear nor mountain lion
would ever molest him, and he slept soundly. He descended the
last slopes and came in sight of the plains on the afternoon
of the next day. Everything seemed familiar. The events of
that fatal time had made too deep an impression upon him and
Albert ever to be forgotten. He knew the very rocks and trees
and so went straight to the valley in which he had found the
wagon filled with supplies. It lay there yet, crumpled
somewhat by time and the weight of snow that had fallen upon it
during the winter, but a strong man with good tools might put it
in shape for future service.
"Now, if Al and I only had horses, we might get it out and take
away our furs in it," said Dick, "but I suppose I might as well
wish for a railroad as for horses."
He descended into the gully and found the tracks of wolves and
other wild beasts about the wagon. In their hunger, they had
chewed up every fragment of leather or cloth, and had clawed and
scratched among the lockers. Dick had searched those pretty well
before, but now he looked for gleanings. He found little of
value until he discovered, jammed down in a corner, an old
history and geography of the United States combined in one volume
with many maps and illustrations. It was a big octavo book, and
Dick seized it with the same delight with which a miner snatches
up his nugget of gold. He opened it, took a rapid look through
flying pages, murmured, "Just the thing," closed it again, and
buttoned it securely inside his deerskin coat. He had not
expected anything; nevertheless, he had gleaned to some purpose.
Dick left the wagon and went into the pass where the massacre had
occurred. Time had not dimmed the horror of the place for him
and he shuddered as he approached the scene of ambush, but he
forced himself to go on.
The wagons were scattered about, but little changed, although, as
in the case of the one in the gully, all the remaining cloth and
leather had been chewed by wild animals. Here and there were the
skeletons of the fallen, and Dick knew that the wild beasts had
not been content with leather and cloth alone. He went through
the wagons one by one, but found nothing of value left except a
paper of needles, some spools of thread, and a large pair of
scissors, all of which he put in the package with the history.
It was nightfall when he finished the task, and retiring to the
slope, he made his bed among some pines. He heard wolves
howling twice in the night, but he merely settled himself more
easily in his warm buffalo robe and went to sleep again.
Replenishing his canteen with water the next morning, he started
out upon the plains, intending to make some explorations.
Dick had thought at first that they were in the Black Hills, but
he concluded later that they were further west. The mountains
about them were altogether too high for the Black Hills, and he
wished to gain some idea of their position upon the map. The
thought reminded him that he had a book with maps in his
pocket, and he took out the precious volume.
He found a map of the Rocky Mountain territory, but most of the
space upon it was vague, often blank, and he could not exactly
locate himself and Albert, although he knew that they were very
far west of any settled country.
"I can learn from that book all about the world except
ourselves," he said, as he put it back in his pocket. But he was
not sulky over it. His was a bold and adventurous spirit and
he was not afraid, nor was his present trip merely to satisfy
curiosity. He and Albert must leave the valley some day, and it
was well to know the best way in which it could be done.
He started across the plain in a general southwesterly direction,
intending to travel for about a day perhaps, camp for the night,
and return on the following day to his mountains. He walked
along with a bold, swinging step and did not look back for an
hour, but when he turned at last he felt as if he had ventured
upon the open ocean in a treacherous canoe. There were
the mountains, high, sheltered, and friendly, while off to the
south and west the plains rolled away in swell after swell as
long and desolate as an untraveled sea, and as hopeless.
Dick saw toward noon some antelope grazing on the horizon, but he
was not a hunter now, and he did not trouble himself to seek a
shot. An hour or two later he saw a considerable herd of
buffaloes scattered about over the plain, nibbling the short
bunch grass that had lived under the snow. They were rather an
inspiring sight, and Dick felt as if, in a sense, they were
furnishing him company. They drove away the desolation and
loneliness of the plains, and his inclinations toward them were
those of genuine friendliness. They were in danger of no bullet
from him.
While he was looking at them, he saw new figures coming over the
distant swell. At first he thought they were antelope, but when
they reached the crest of the swell and their figures were thrown
into relief against the brilliant sky, he saw that they were
horsemen.
They came on with such regularity and precision, that, for a
moment or two, Dick believed them to be a troop of cavalry, but
he learned better when they scattered with a shout and began to
chase the buffaloes. Then he knew that they were a band of Sioux
Indians hunting.
The full extent of his danger dawned upon him instantly. He was
alone and on foot. The hunt might bring them down upon him in
five minutes. He was about to run, but his figure would
certainly be exposed upon the crest of one of the swells, as
theirs had been, and he dropped instead into one of a number of
little gullies that intersected the plain.
It was an abrupt little gully, and Dick was well hidden from any
eyes not within ten yards of him. He lay at first so he could
not see, but soon he began to hear shots and the trampling of
mighty hoofs. He knew now that the Sioux were in among the
buffaloes, dealing out death, and he began to have a fear of
being trodden upon either by horsemen or huge hoofs. He could
not bear to lie there and he warned only by sound, so he turned a
little further on one side and peeped over the edge of the gully.
The hunters and hunter were not as near as he thought; he
had been deceived by sound, the earth being such a good
conductor. Yet they were near enough for him to see that
he was in great danger and should remain well hidden. He
could observe, however, that the hunt was attended with
great success. Over a dozen buffaloes had fallen and the
others were running about singly or in little groups, closely
pursued by the exultant Sioux. Some were on one side of him
and some on the other. There was no chance for him, no matter
how careful he might be, to rise from the gully and sneak away
over the plain. Instead, he crouched more closely and contracted
himself into the narrowest possible space, while the hunt wheeled
and thundered about him.
It is not to be denied that Dick felt many tremors. He had seen
what the Sioux could do. He knew that they were the most
merciless of all the northwestern Indians, and he expected only
torture and death if he fell into their hands, and there was his
brother alone now in the valley. Once the hunt swung away to the
westward and the sounds of it grew faint. Dick hoped it would
continue in that direction, but by and by it came back again and
he crouched down anew in his narrow quarters. He felt that every
bone in him was stiffening with cramp and needlelike pains shot
through his nerves. Yet he dared not move. And upon top of his
painful position came the knowledge that the Sioux would stay
there to cut up the slain buffaloes. He was tempted more than
once to jump up, run for it and take his chances.
He noticed presently a gray quality in the air, and as he glanced
off toward the west, he saw that the red sun was burning very
low. Dick's heart sprang up in gladness; it was the twilight,
and the blessed darkness would bring chance of escape. Seldom
has anyone watched the coming of night with keener pleasure. The
sun dropped down behind the swells, the gray twilight passed over
all the sky, and after it came the night, on black wings.
Fires sprang up on the plain, fires of buffalo chips lighted by
the Sioux, who were now busy skinning and cutting up the slain
buffaloes. Dick saw the fires all about him, but none was nearer
than a hundred yards, and, despite them, he decided that now was
his best time to attempt escape before the moon should come out
and lighten up the night.
He pulled himself painfully from the kind gully. He had lain
there hours, and he tested every joint as he crept a few feet on
the plain. They creaked for a while, but presently the
circulation was restored, and, rising to a stooping position,
with his rifle ready, he slipped off toward the westward.
Dick knew that great caution was necessary, but he had confidence
in the veiling darkness. Off to the eastward he could see one
fire, around which a half dozen warriors were gathered, busy with
a slain buffalo, working and feasting. He fancied that he could
trace their savage features against the red firelight, but he
himself was in the darkness.
Another fire rose up, and this was straight before him. Like the
others, warriors were around it, and Dick turned off abruptly to
the south. Then he heard ponies stamping and he shifted his
course again. When he had gone about a dozen yards he lay flat
upon the plain and listened. He was hardy and bold, but, for a
little while, he was almost in despair. It seemed to him that he
was ringed around by a circle of savage warriors and that he
could not break through it.
His courage returned, and, rising to his knees, he resumed his
slow progress. His course was now southwesterly, and soon he
heard again the stamping of hoofs. It was then that a daring
idea came into Dick's head.
That stamping of hoofs was obviously made by the ponies of the
Sioux. Either the ponies were tethered to short sticks, or they
had only a small guard, perhaps a single man. But as they were
with the buffaloes, and unsuspecting of a strange presence, they
would not detail more than one man to watch their horses. It was
wisdom for him to slip away one of the horses, mount it when at a
safe distance, and then gallop toward the mountains.
Dick sank down a little lower and crept very slowly toward the
point from which the stamping of hoofs proceeded. When he had
gone about a dozen yards he heard another stamping of hoofs to
his right and then a faint whinny. This encouraged him. It
showed him that the ponies were tethered in groups, and the group
toward which he was going might be without a guard. He continued
his progress another dozen yards, and then lay flat upon the
plain. He had seen two vague forms in the darkness, and he
wished to make himself a blur with the earth. They were warriors
passing from one camp fire to another, and Dick saw them plainly,
tall men with blankets folded about them like togas, long hair in
which eagle feathers were braided after the Sioux style, and
strong aquiline features. They looked like chiefs, men of
courage, dignity, and mind, and Dick contrasted them with the
ruffians of the wagon train. The contrast was not favorable to
the white faces that he remembered so well.
But the boy saw nothing of mercy or pity in these red
countenances. Bold and able they might be, but it was no part of
theirs to spare their enemies. He fairly crowded himself against
the earth, but they went on, absorbed in their own talk, and he
was not seen. He raised up again and began to crawl. The group
of ponies came into view, and he saw with delight that they had
no watchman. A half dozen in number and well hobbled, they
cropped the buffalo grass. They were bare of back, but they wore
their Indian bridles, which hung from their heads.
Dick knew a good deal about horses, and he was aware that the
approach would be critical. The Indian ponies might take alarm
or they might not, but the venture must be made. He did not
believe that he could get beyond the ring of the Sioux fires
without being discovered, and only a dash was left.
Dick marked the pony nearest to him. It seemed a strong animal,
somewhat larger than the others, and, pulling up a handful of
bunch grass, he approached it, whistling very softly. He held
the grass in his left hand and his hunting knife in the right,
his rifle being fastened to his back. The pony raised his head,
looked at him in a friendly manner, then seemed to change his
mind and backed away. But Dick came on, still holding out the
grass and emitting that soft, almost inaudible whistle. The pony
stopped and wavered between belief and suspicion. Dick was not
more than a dozen feet away now, and he began to calculate when
he might make a leap and seize the bridle.
The boy and the pony were intently watching the eyes of each other.
Dick, in that extreme moment, was gifted with preternatural
acuteness of mind and vision, and he saw that the pony still wavered.
He took another step forward, and the eyes of the pony inclined
distinctly from belief to suspicion; another short and cautious step,
and they were all suspicion. But it was too late for the pony. The
agile youth sprang, and dropping the grass, seized him with his left
hand by the bridle. A sweep or two of the hunting knife and the
hobbles were cut through.
The pony reared and gave forth an alarmed neigh, but Dick,
quickly replacing the knife in his belt, now held the bridle with
both hands, and those two hands were very strong. He pulled the
pony back to its four feet and sprang, with one bound, upon his
back. Then kicking him vigorously in the side, he dashed away,
with rifle shots spattering behind him.