A CLOSE CALL
A few moments afterward White Otter and his companions rode away on their hazardous mission. Running Dog had told them that the rival war parties were a considerable distance beyond the ridge, and the Sioux hoped to come in sight of them without being discovered. White Otter turned directly toward the south, as he believed that there was less chance of encountering hostile scouts in that direction. He rode a considerable distance before he finally turned toward the west, and approached the ridge.
"The Crows have passed this place—the Blackfeet came the other way—they will not pass the Crows—the Crows will not come back here—this is a good place—we will stay here and watch," White Otter told his companions.
"It is good," agreed Lean Wolf, the famous Minneconjoux scout.
They approached the ridge with great caution. The sun had already set, but they knew the long summer twilight would give them ample time to discover their foes. As they finally came within bow range of the grassy slope, they stopped and spent many moments watching for signs of lurking foes. Then they suddenly heard the sounds of battle.
"The Crows and the Blackfeet are fighting—it is good," White Otter declared, grimly.
Then, while Little Raven remained with the ponies, White Otter and Lean Wolf crawled slowly up the ridge. When they reached the top they parted the long grass and looked anxiously across the plain. The Crows and the Blackfeet were preparing to fight. They were a long distance from the ridge, however, and the Sioux felt in little danger. They watched with keen interest while their foes began the preliminaries of battle. The experienced Sioux scouts read the situation at a glance. It was evident that the Crows had been overtaken and brought to a stand by the Blackfeet war party. The Crows had dismounted and taken shelter behind their ponies, and the Blackfeet were riding about them in a great circle, but keeping safely beyond bow range. There was much yelling and singing of war songs, but no real attempt at actual fighting.
"The Blackfeet are cautious," White Otter said, scornfully. "They are making a great noise, but I do not see them killing any Crows. If they rushed in there and frightened those ponies the Crows would have a hard time of it."
"It is true," agreed Lean Wolf.
The Crows, however, appeared to be considerably stronger in numbers, and it was apparent that the Blackfeet were cautious about beginning the attack. The Sioux were surprised at the small size of the Blackfeet war party. They had expected to see a much larger force of those savage foes engaged against the Crows.
"I do not see many Blackfeet—it is bad," said White Otter. "They have left many warriors to guard the camp."
When Running Dog brought word of the impending battle, the Sioux had hoped that the Blackfeet would send a sufficient force against the Crows to weaken the defense of the Blackfeet camp considerably. White Otter realized, however, that the hope was false. It was evident that the crafty Blackfeet had left most of their fighting men at the village.
"Perhaps they are waiting for our people to come for those ponies," said Lean Wolf.
"Yes, I believe it is true," agreed White Otter.
He had barely ceased speaking when the Blackfeet suddenly began their attack. Whooping fiercely, they rushed upon their foes and made desperate attempts to frighten and stampede the Crow ponies. The Crows, however, had prepared for just such a maneuver, and the alarmed ponies were unable to break away. In the meantime the Crows sent a deadly volley of arrows against the Blackfeet, and the latter recoiled before the fierceness of the defense. A number of warriors had already toppled from their ponies, and it was evident that the loss somewhat discouraged their comrades. For a moment they wavered, and then a reckless war leader on a pinto pony rallied them and led them against their foes.
They rode close up to the Crows, and fought with great bravery. The Crows, however, had the double advantage of numbers and shelter, and the Blackfeet soon realized that they were fighting a losing fight. The fearless war leader had already forfeited his life to his gallantry, and a number of his followers were either killed or wounded. In return, the Blackfeet had done little harm to the Crows, except for killing a few ponies, and wounding one reckless young Crow who had rushed from behind his horse to attack them. Thoroughly disheartened, they became demoralized and raced away in bad disorder.
"See, see, the fierce Blackfeet are running like rabbits!" laughed White Otter.
"The Crows are too strong for them," declared Lean Wolf.
Encouraged by their success, many of the Crows leaped upon their ponies and set out after the fleeing Blackfeet. The maneuver threw the Blackfeet into a rage. They immediately wheeled about and raced back to meet their pursuers. Their boldness confused the Crows, and before they had recovered from their surprise the Blackfeet were upon them. As less than half of the Crow force had joined in the pursuit, the advantage had suddenly turned to the Blackfeet. Smarting with the humiliation of their recent repulse, the Blackfeet determined to take full vengeance upon the misguided company of Crows who had blundered into their power.
"They have fooled the Crows," White Otter cried, excitedly. "They will wipe out that war party before their friends can come to help them."
"The Blackfeet are sharp," laughed Lean Wolf.
The Sioux suddenly realized that the wild flight of the Blackfeet had been a clever bit of stratagem to deceive their foes. It was apparent that the trick had been entirely successful, as the Blackfeet seemed to have the Crows entirely at their mercy.
"See, those poor Crows are calling their brothers to help them," White Otter told Lean Wolf.
Finding themselves completely overwhelmed by the ferocity and strength of their crafty foes, the Crows were thrown into a panic. They had lost all sense of order and discipline, and each man was fighting for himself. Their one idea appeared to be to escape from the relentless Blackfeet, who seemed determined to annihilate them. Aware that they were facing destruction, the Crows were making frantic appeals to their comrades to come to their assistance. The latter abandoned the pack ponies and the hard-earned supply of meat and rode wildly across the plain to assist their tribesmen.
"Now we will see a big fight," White Otter cried, enthusiastically.
"Yes, yes," agreed Lean Wolf, as his eyes flashed with excitement.
The Crows who had come to the aid of their tribesmen fought with great courage, but the Blackfeet were thoroughly aroused and they seemed invincible. The Sioux were amazed at the bravery and skill displayed by those hardy warriors from the north. Having duped their foes and gained the advantage, they appeared determined to follow it through to a complete victory.
Although the Crows still outnumbered them, the Blackfeet pressed the attack with a reckless ferocity that completely demoralized their foes. Time after time the Crows tried to rally from their confusion, but each attempt was the signal for a still fiercer assault by the Blackfeet.
"Hi, the Blackfeet know how to fight!" White Otter whispered, tensely.
The fighting was at close range, and many riderless ponies gave evidence of the result. The Sioux witnessed many deeds of heroism. They saw a wounded Crow warrior on a white pony ride recklessly at three of his enemies, and overcome all three of them before a company of Blackfeet finally killed him. They saw a Blackfoot dash among a company of astounded Crows and rescue his comrade who had been desperately wounded. They saw many thrilling hand-to-hand encounters which were fought to the death. They saw dismounted warriors running boldly into the thick of the fight in the hope of killing an enemy and securing his horse. Most of them were killed. A few achieved the exploit, and galloped from the encounter in triumph.
Then as the light began to fade from the plain the Crows made a final, heroic effort, and broke through the circle of foes. They raced directly toward the spot where the Sioux were watching, and behind them thundered the Blackfeet.
"Run to the ponies!" cried White Otter, as he realized the peril which threatened them.
They scrambled wildly down the ridge and called to Little Raven to bring the ponies. He had already guessed that something was wrong, and he lost little time in joining them.
"The Crows and the Blackfeet are almost here!" White Otter told him, as he sprang upon the piebald.
As the plain offered no hiding place in the vicinity of the ridge, White Otter realized that their only chance of escape lay in open flight. He also knew that to turn toward the north would arouse the suspicions of the crafty Blackfeet. He raced away toward the east.
"Keep low on your ponies, and perhaps our enemies will not know who we are," he advised his companions.
Crouching low upon the necks of their ponies, the Sioux rode furiously to gain a safe lead upon their foes. Night was almost at hand, and the dusky twilight shadows made it difficult for their enemies to identify them. When the Crows finally dashed recklessly over the top of the ridge the Dacotahs were many arrow flights away. At sight of the three racing ponies, however, the Crows apparently became suspicious, and fearful of being led into another trap. They immediately swerved from their course, and rode toward the north.
"That is bad," cried White Otter, who had been risking his neck to glance back at his foes. "If they go that way they may find our people."
"I believe our friends will be watching sharp," Lean Wolf assured him.
Then they heard the wild, ringing whoops of the Blackfeet, and White Otter again turned his head to look back. The heavy shadows had almost wiped out the ridge, and it was difficult to see the company of riders who were racing recklessly down the steep grassy slope. He made them out, however, and was relieved to see them turn sharply and follow the Crows. The latter had entirely faded from sight in the dusk.
"The Blackfeet did not see us," White Otter told his companions. "See, it is almost dark! We will ride slower."
They could barely see an arrow flight before them, and they believed there was slight probability of being seen. In fact they had high hopes that the Blackfeet had entirely failed to notice them. Feeling quite safe, therefore, they reined in the ponies and rode at a slow canter. They heard the Blackfeet yelling savagely farther toward the north and had little doubt that they were still pursuing the demoralized Crows.
"They are making a great noise—it is good," declared Lean Wolf. "Our people will hear them."
"Yes, it is——" began White Otter.
"Listen!" interrupted Little Raven.
They heard the sound of galloping ponies directly ahead of them, and they barely had time to turn aside before the unknown riders passed them in the darkness. Then the nervous little piebald whinnied, and the strangers instantly stopped.
"Come!" cried White Otter, as he turned toward the north, and raced away at top speed.
"I believe those riders are the Blackfeet scouts that Feather Dog told us about," said Lean Wolf. "Little Raven, your ears are as sharp as the ears of Tokala, the fox."
They rode some distance before they finally stopped to listen for sounds from their foes. Night had fallen, and the great plain was cloaked in darkness. For a long time the stillness was unbroken. It seemed as if the Blackfeet had at last yelled themselves into silence. The Sioux wondered if the Crows had escaped.
"I do not believe the Blackfeet came up with them," Lean Wolf said, softly. "When it got dark I believe the Blackfeet turned back to round up those ponies that the Crows left behind."
"Then we must watch sharp," declared White Otter. "Perhaps they will ride over here and find us."
Then they heard the wail of a prairie wolf a short distance to the westward. There was something about it that made them suspicious. As a precaution against being betrayed to prowling foes, White Otter dismounted and seized the nose of the little piebald. The other ponies also showed signs of nervousness, and their riders quickly followed the example of the cautious Ogalala. Then the three anxious Sioux scouts stood beside their ponies and strained their ears to catch a warning of danger. Three times the dreary call of the prairie wolf sounded from the west, and each time the suspicions of the Sioux grew stronger. They felt almost certain that it was a signal from their enemies.
"That does not sound like Mayash, the prowler," White Otter declared suspiciously.
"It is different," agreed Lean Wolf.
At that moment they heard the cry repeated in the north. They knew at once that it was an answer to the signal from the west. It was evident that foes were on two sides of them, and the Sioux realized that they were in a serious predicament.
"It is bad," whispered White Otter. "I believe Blackfeet scouts are out there in the darkness. They are close. We must watch out."
"Do you believe they know us?" Little Raven inquired, anxiously.
"No," White Otter told him. "Lean Wolf, how do you feel about it?"
"I believe it is the Blackfeet," said Lean Wolf. "We must wait here until we see what they are going to do. If we hear them coming here then we will ride away before they find us."
"It is the best thing to do," White Otter told him.
They listened anxiously to learn if their foes were actually approaching. They heard nothing to give them a clew. The signals had ceased, and the calm, brooding night hush had fallen upon the plain. The ponies, however, were still uneasy, and their actions made the Sioux suspicious. They feared that other horses were close at hand, and the possibility kept them alert.
"Listen, my brothers," White Otter whispered, anxiously. "Something is moving over there."
The sound had come from the westward, and whatever had made it seemed to be well within bowshot. The piebald was shaking its head, and struggling to free its nose from the grasp of the Ogalala. The other ponies also showed signs of recognition, and the Sioux felt sure that a horse was moving slowly through the darkness. They listened with bated breath, ready to jump upon their ponies and flee into the protection of the night at the first hint that they had been discovered. They waited in trying suspense while the rider slowly passed them, and the short, quick footfalls of his pony died away in the distance.
"He has gone," whispered Little Raven.
"Sh!" cautioned Lean Wolf.
Another pony was approaching. Again the Sioux waited in breathless suspense, while the unseen rider moved cautiously through the darkness within bow range of them. This time, however, they were not so fortunate. For some reason the rider stopped directly opposite them. Was he suspicious? the Sioux wondered. The piebald tried to call, but White Otter strangled the cry in its throat. Then the strange horse winded the Sioux ponies, and whinnied its challenge. The next moment a voice questioned cautiously from the night. The Sioux remained silent. Each stood grasping the mane of his pony, ready to mount and race away on the instant of discovery. Then the horse which had already passed answered the challenge, and the suspicions of the second rider were allayed. A moment later the Sioux heard him riding on his way. They remained silent, however, listening anxiously to learn if a third rider was following after those who had passed.
"There are no more," Lean Wolf whispered, finally.
"It is good," replied White Otter.
They waited until they felt sure that their enemies had gone beyond hearing, and then they mounted and rode carefully toward the east. As the mysterious scouts had gone toward the north, the Sioux determined to make a wide detour to avoid an encounter. They walked the ponies until they had gone a safe distance, and then they urged them into a brisk canter, and began to circle back toward the north to reach the Minneconjoux war party.