THE GREAT BUFFALO DRIVE
Early the following day the Sioux saw several of the scouts who had been
sent to the ridges to watch for buffaloes racing wildly toward the
Minneconjoux village. It was evident that they had news of great
importance, and the people became much excited. Rain Crow was out on the
plain continuing his mysterious ceremony to bring the buffaloes. As the
riders passed they called to him, and he immediately rose and extended
the sacred pipe toward the heavens. Then a joyous shout went up from the
village, for the Minneconjoux knew that his appeal had been answered,
the Great Mystery had listened to their prayers.
"The buffaloes have come! The buffaloes have come!" the scouts cried,
eagerly, as they approached the lodges.
The cry was soon ringing through the camps, and all who heard it were
thrown into wild transports of joy. Shouting and laughing, the
delighted Sioux ran to make preparations for the great buffalo hunt, the
most important event in their lives. The boys were sent to bring in the
ponies, while the warriors hurried to the lodges to collect their
weapons and decorate themselves for the occasion. The women were as busy
as the men, for their task was to follow after the hunters to cut up and
pack in the meat. Even the aged veterans who were too old to participate
hobbled about chuckling gleefully in anticipation of the feasts which
were now assured. It was indeed a time of general rejoicing, and the
villages were in a noisy uproar.
The buffaloes had been discovered feeding on a vast rolling plain to the
south, and the scouts declared that it would be easy to circle around
behind the ridges and surround the herd.
"My people, you have heard about this thing," said Curly Horse. "The
Great Mystery has listened to our words. Yes, he has taken pity on us.
He has sent the buffaloes. It is good. We will have plenty to eat. We
will have plenty of hides for robes and moccasins. Now I will tell you
what to do. You must get your best ponies, and go out there and kill
some meat. I have finished."
Soon afterward the Minneconjoux and the Uncapapas united in a great
hunting party which included every active warrior in both tribes. It was
a noble assemblage. As the great host of warriors galloped away the very
earth seemed to tremble beneath the thundering hoofs of their ponies.
Only the old men and the women and children were left behind. They stood
together at the edge of the camps watching the imposing cavalcade until
it finally passed from sight over a swell of the plain, and left a great
yellow cloud of dust to roll back toward the deserted villages.
Curly Horse and Laughing Bird rode together at the head of the warriors.
Far in advance of them, however, was a company of picked scouts whose
duty was to locate the buffaloes and reconnoiter the country over which
the hunters would advance to surround the herd. On either flank of the
hunting party rode the Dog Soldiers, whose task was to maintain order
and system. These warriors were men of courage and wisdom, whose sound
judgment and impartial justice qualified them to act as the guardians of
peace and discipline in their respective tribes. Their insignia of
office was a raven skin which they usually wore attached to their belts.
Their power was unquestioned, and at all times they commanded the
respect and ready obedience of their comrades.
The Sioux cantered across the plain in high spirits. The return of the
buffaloes assured them an abundance of meat for many days, and the
thought filled them with enthusiasm. Light-hearted laughter, and
snatches of song, made it evident that the stern Dacotah warrior had
thrown off his reserve and softened his heart to enjoy the gentler
excitement of the chase.
White Otter rode with Sun Bird and Little Raven. He was mounted on a
fiery little buckskin which he had captured from the Kiowas. His two
companions rode the splendid hunting ponies with which he had presented
them when they visited the Ogalala village the year previous. All three
lads were eager and excited, for the hunt promised plenty of thrills.
The sun was some distance past the meridian when the Sioux finally came
in sight of the buffaloes. Then the chiefs and the Dog Soldiers
immediately held a council, while the hunting party waited behind a low
ridge. When the plan of attack had finally been decided upon, the force
was divided into three companies. Curly Horse took command of one,
Laughing Bird of another, and Rain Crow of the third. The latter was
told to hold his warriors behind the ridge until the chiefs and their
followers had advanced along both flanks of the herd. Then at the proper
signal the three companies of hunters were to charge forward and
surround the buffaloes.
The young Ogalala and his two friends remained with Rain Crow. In this
party were some of the most famous Minneconjoux hunters. White Otter was
particularly pleased when he saw Kicking Bull, the warrior of whom Sun
Bird had told him so many wonderful things.
"It is good. I see that Kicking Bull is here," said White Otter.
"If you watch him you may see something to talk about," replied Sun
Bird.
"Look, my brothers, something has happened!" cried Little Raven.
The scouts who had been looking over the crest of the ridge were
gesticulating excitedly, and calling to the hunters. They said that the
buffaloes had discovered Curly Horse and his warriors, and were already
fleeing across the plain.
"That is bad. But come, my brothers, we must go after them," shouted
Rain Crow, as he raced his pony to the top of the ridge, and the others
urged their horses after him.
Then the hunt began. As Rain Crow and his companions swept over the
ridge they saw the buffaloes thundering away in a stifling smother of
dust, pursued on both flanks by long lines of whooping horsemen. The
latter were riding furiously in an endeavor to get far enough ahead to
turn the animals at the front of the herd.
"Come, we must ride fast!" cried White Otter, as he galloped away from
his friends.
Sun Bird and Little Raven raced after him, with the other riders close
behind them. Yelling excitedly, the Sioux urged their ponies to top
speed, and for the moment the hunt became a mad break-neck scramble
across the rocky plain. A false step on the part of a pony meant severe
injury or death for itself and its rider, but the nimble little beasts
kept their feet and soon overtook the clumsy animals ahead of them. Once
within arrow-range, Rain Crow and his warriors began a furious attack
upon the rear of the herd, while Curly Horse and Laughing Bird closed in
on them from the sides.
White Otter soon found that his confidence in the pony which he had
taken from the Kiowas was well placed. He had no difficulty in keeping
up with the fastest animals in the company, and he believed that the
buckskin had still greater speed in reserve. When the buffaloes were
overtaken, the Kiowa pony quickly proved that it was familiar with every
detail of the exciting sport. It seemed to know exactly which animal the
rider wished to attack. Having maneuvered to a favorable position, it
would run beside the doomed buffalo until the twang of the bow-string
gave warning that the fatal arrow had sped to its mark; then the clever
little beast would instantly swerve aside to avoid the death lunge of
the animal it had helped to kill.
"That is a very fast pony," said Sun Bird.
"Yes, I believe it belonged to a great buffalo hunter," replied White
Otter.
Then the warriors began to ride recklessly into the herd, and the three
lads became separated. White Otter saw Kicking Bull, and immediately
turned to follow him. The famous Minneconjoux hunter was talking to his
pony and laughing with boyish glee as he drove his arrows into the
helpless buffaloes. As each of his victims fell to the plain he
dismounted beside it and recovered his arrow. Then he leaped upon his
pony and raced after the retreating herd.
The Sioux had already killed many buffaloes, and the plain was dotted
with carcasses. Some of the warriors had deserted the main hunt to run
down the wounded animals that had been left behind in the wild stampede.
At the same time the horsemen on both flanks, having failed in their
efforts to turn the leaders, were breaking into the herd and killing as
many animals as possible before the buffaloes ran too far from the
camps.
Having followed Kicking Bull some distance into the herd, White Otter
found himself in close quarters. The buffaloes had crowded so closely
together that there was danger of the pony and its rider being crushed
to death in the jam. It was not a new experience for the young Ogalala,
however, for he had passed through a somewhat similar trial once before.
Although he was fully alive to his peril, he had little fear. He
believed that the Kiowa pony had learned to care for itself in just such
an emergency. The thought gave him confidence, and he began to shoot his
arrows at the animals behind him in the hope of opening an avenue of
escape.
Then he saw Kicking Bull a short distance ahead of him. It was evident
that the noted hunter was in a similar predicament, and White Otter
watched anxiously to learn how he would extricate himself. He saw two
huge bulls crowding the Minneconjoux pony between them, and it looked as
if both horse and rider were doomed to instant destruction. For a
moment or two the active little beast kept on its feet, and then it
stumbled and disappeared beneath the great brown avalanche of frenzied
buffaloes.
As the unfortunate pony went to its death, however, Kicking Bull grasped
the coarse shaggy mane of the nearest bull, and succeeded in drawing
himself upon its back. It was all done so quickly that White Otter could
scarcely believe his eyes. However, when the daring hunter turned and
shook his bow at him, the young Ogalala realized that what he saw
actually had happened.
Having escaped death by the slightest margin, Kicking Bull was still in
a desperate predicament. The great beast upon which he had taken
temporary refuge was making frantic efforts to dislodge him, and he was
in imminent danger of losing his grip and falling from its back. To make
matters worse, the buffaloes on either side were crowding so closely
that the bull was liable to stumble and share the fate of the missing
pony.
In the meantime White Otter was making an heroic attempt to reach his
tribesman. He realized that if he could ride his pony up beside Kicking
Bull he might be able to carry him safely from the herd. He knew that it
was a desperate undertaking which might end in bringing both of them to
a sudden death, but he was willing to risk his life in the attempt.
Strive as he might, however, he was unable to clear a way for his pony,
and as he knew that it would be fatal to kill the buffaloes directly in
front of him he saw little chance of rendering aid to the unfortunate
Minneconjoux. His heart filled with dismay as he realized his utter
helplessness to save the famous hunter whose daring career was about to
come to a tragic end.
The buffaloes were crowding closer together each moment, and White Otter
suddenly realized that unless he found a way to escape from the jam he,
too, was sure to suffer a similar fate. He again turned his attention to
the animals behind him, and when he had opened a gap he slackened the
speed of his pony, hoping that the buffaloes might run past him. It was
an old trick of the Sioux hunters, and one which the young Ogalala had
already used successfully. However, as he thought of abandoning the
brave man who was still clinging to the back of the great bull, all his
instincts rebelled. Although he knew that for the moment he was
powerless to help him, still the loyal lad believed that the opportunity
might present itself at any moment. Therefore, he determined to forfeit
his own chance in the hope of saving his tribesman.
A few moments afterward the animals ahead of him separated, and White
Otter forced his pony into the gap. At that instant Kicking Bull turned
his head and saw that the courageous lad was attempting to help him.
Fully aware of the peril, the gallant Minneconjoux waved his hand toward
the rear of the herd, as a signal for White Otter to attempt to save
himself by that avenue of escape. The latter shook his head, and made it
plain that he was determined to remain where he was while there was a
possibility of rendering aid.
Realizing that each moment of delay only lessened the chance of escape
for both of them, White Otter again attempted to open a way to the
Minneconjoux hunter. Laying vigorously about him with his heavy riding
quirt he succeeded in crowding several more animals from his path, and
advancing considerably closer to Kicking Bull. They were now
sufficiently near to call to each other, and the Minneconjoux turned his
head and addressed White Otter.
"I see what you are trying to do," he said. "You are very brave. You
cannot do this thing. No, if you stay here you may be killed. Perhaps I
will not come out of this. But I am not afraid. See how the buffaloes
crowd against my legs. Pull back your pony, and keep your life. You are
a young man. I have told you the best thing to do."
"I am a Dacotah," cried White Otter. "I have closed my ears to your
words. I will stay here until something happens. Perhaps I will find a
way to help you."
Roused by the possibility, White Otter redoubled his efforts, and
crowded forward until he was on a line with Kicking Bull. There were a
number of animals between them, however, and they were so close together
that it was impossible to separate them. It looked, therefore, as if his
gallant attempt at rescue had been made in vain. Instead of being able
to save his tribesman, it began to look as though White Otter was
doomed to share the same tragic fate. As he peered anxiously through the
blinding smother of dust he saw that he was entirely closed in, and he
had slight hope of opening a path through the closely packed ranks of
panic-stricken beasts that imprisoned him.
Then he heard a warning shout from Kicking Bull. A moment later the
daring Minneconjoux made known his intention of reaching him over the
backs of the intervening buffaloes. For a moment White Otter was dazed
by the very boldness of the plan. It seemed like the wild whim of a
madman, and he wondered whether Kicking Bull had actually lost his
senses. As soon as he had recovered from his astonishment, therefore,
White Otter called out to warn his tribesman against attempting
something which he felt sure would end in certain death.
"No, it is the only thing to do," declared Kicking Bull. "I will do this
thing. Now I am getting ready. You must watch me. Then you will know how
to save yourself from the buffaloes. Now I am going to start."
Before White Otter could offer further remonstrance, the Minneconjoux
slung his weapons across his back and prepared to make the desperate
attempt at escape. Seizing the long hair which covered the shoulders of
the great bull, Kicking Bull rose to his knees. He balanced himself in
that position a moment or two, while his flashing eyes studied the dusty
backs of the buffaloes between him and White Otter. Then, having decided
what to do, he rose to his feet, still clinging to the coarse mane of
the infuriated beast beneath him. For an instant he hesitated, while he
caught his balance. Then, as White Otter called a warning, the
Minneconjoux relaxed his hold, and half straightened. The next instant
he stepped lightly to the back of the next buffalo, steadied himself a
moment, and then sprang to the one beyond, and then moved quickly from
one to another until he dropped upon the animal beside White Otter. The
marvelous exploit was performed so quickly, and so skillfully, that the
astounded young Ogalala scarcely realized what had happened.
"Now you have seen something to tell about," laughed Kicking Bull, as
he threw his arm about White Otter and drew himself upon the pony.
When White Otter realized that Kicking Bull had actually reached him he
was overwhelmed with joy. He felt repaid for having risked his life, and
he determined to make a desperate attempt to escape from the herd. The
Kiowa pony seemed unmindful of its double burden, and despite the odds
against it, the young Ogalala believed that it would eventually carry
them to safety. The buffaloes had run a considerable distance since the
beginning of the hunt, and most of the Sioux had already abandoned the
chase and turned back to claim a share of the spoils. It seemed,
therefore, that the panting beasts would soon slacken their pace, and
White Otter believed the safest plan would be to continue with the herd
until the tired buffaloes finally slowed down sufficiently to allow the
pony to escape from their midst. Kicking Bull destroyed his hope,
however, by warning him that not far ahead was a rocky stretch of plain
which would cause sad havoc if the buffaloes attempted to race over it.
He said that many of the awkward brutes would be sure to fall, and the
pony would be powerless to save itself from sharing their fate.
Aware that every moment was precious, the Sioux immediately attempted to
open a way of escape. While Kicking Bull drove his arrows into the
buffaloes directly behind them, White Otter began an attack against
those that were crowding from the sides. After a few minutes of vigorous
fighting they finally opened up a small gap, and before the buffaloes
could close it White Otter pulled the buckskin into the opening. Then
they continued to attack the animals behind them, and at last they
succeeded in turning them to either side. Once started, the gap
continually widened until the little buckskin was soon dropping slowly
back toward the rear of the herd, while the buffaloes galloped past on
either flank. When they finally escaped, the two Sioux slid from the
lathery pony, and looked searchingly into each other's eyes.
"You have done the bravest thing I ever saw," said White Otter. "Now I
will have something to tell my people."
"Well, I am glad you saw it. But I will tell you that you are very
fearless. You brought me out here. That was a great thing to do. I will
tell the Minneconjoux about it," declared Kicking Bull.
The buffaloes had already disappeared over a swell of the plain, and the
two Sioux again mounted the buckskin and rode slowly back to join their
comrades. They found the course of the hunt marked with the bodies of
dead buffaloes, and at each carcass were several hunters who were busy
removing the pelt and cutting out the choicest meat. Farther back they
found the women and some of the old men who had followed after the
hunters with the pack horses. They were already loading the meat upon
the ponies and the scene was one of bustling activity. White Otter found
Sun Bird and Little Raven cutting up a fat yearling cow, and he stopped
to help them.
The purple twilight shadows were already settling upon the plain when
the great Sioux hunting party finally set out for the camps beside the
stream. The warriors returned on tired, sweat-caked ponies, but the
hearts of the riders were filled with joy. They rode along singing songs
of thanks to the Great Mystery who had sent them an abundance of meat
to nourish the old people and the children, and make the warriors bold
and strong. Behind the hunters followed the women, leading the pack
animals loaded with buffalo meat. There was a great quantity, and the
Sioux attributed their success to the efforts of Rain Crow and the
Buffalo Dancers, who they believed had gained the favor of the Great
Mystery.
"You have been very brave; Kicking Bull has told me about it," said Sun
Bird, as he and White Otter rode along together.
"Kicking Bull is a great man," replied White Otter, affectionately
stroking the neck of the faithful little buckskin.