AN UNUSUAL ADVENTURE
Upon reaching the ravine the Sioux turned toward the west and rode until daylight. Then they found themselves almost within the shadows of the great massive peaks which towered against the sky. The low timbered ridges of the foothills were still nearer at hand, and the air was scented with fragrance from the dense stand of pines.
"It is good," declared Sun Bird. "Pretty soon we will come to those great mountains. Then we can hide from our enemies until we find the Blackfeet camp."
Having failed to find any further evidence of their foes, they began to feel more secure. They gave little thought to the horseman who had blundered upon them at the pool, for it appeared certain that both the Crows and the Blackfeet had withdrawn from the vicinity. Encouraged by the thought, the Sioux determined to continue toward the mountains.
When they reached the first ridge of foothills, Sitting Eagle, who was familiar with the region, led the way along a game trail. It wound upward from the plain, and brought them to a grassy meadow with a cold bubbling spring in one corner of it. As it offered an attractive camp site, the Sioux determined to stop.
After the ponies had been picketed and the camp established, several young warriors went into the woods with their bows to look for game. It was not long before they returned with a fat, young, white-tail deer.
As the camp site was a considerable height above the plain and well hidden by the heavy stand of timber, the Sioux determined to risk making a small fire. Then they broiled the deer meat and ate with keen enjoyment. They had suddenly relaxed. For the moment the hardships and perils of the war trail were forgotten. They talked and laughed and told stories, and became as carefree and happy as boys. The merry feast continued well into the night. When it finally ended, the sentinels took their positions about the camp while their companions wrapped themselves in their robes and lay down to sleep.
Shortly after daylight the Sioux descended to the plain and rode northward along the base of the ridge. They kept within bowshot of the timber so that they might conceal themselves if they found signs of their foes. Dancing Rabbit declared that the Blackfeet camp was a number of days' travel farther to the northward, and for the present at least the Sioux had little fear of blundering into those foes. However, they believed that the Crows might be somewhere in the vicinity and they determined to keep a sharp watch.
"We will keep going ahead until we get near the Blackfeet camp," said Sun Bird. "Then we will stop. Then some of us will climb those great mountains and look for the Blackfeet lodges."
For two days they traveled cautiously along the edge of the foothills without seeing anything to arouse their suspicions. Game, however, was abundant. They saw countless numbers of buffaloes, great herds of elk, and many deer and antelope.
"This is a good place to live in," declared White Otter.
"Yes, there is plenty of game here," replied Sun Bird.
Then they again saw Huya, the war bird. The eagle was soaring high up near the snowclad peaks. The Sioux watched it with superstitious premonitions. They believed it was an omen—a warning that foes were near at hand.
"See, Huya has come back to tell us about our enemies," said Sun Bird. "I believe we are near the Blackfeet. We must watch out."
Disturbed by the appearance of Huya, the war bird, and determined to run no risk of betraying themselves to their foes, the Sioux decided to seek shelter in the foothills while scouts climbed the ridges to look for the Blackfeet camp. While the war party moved cautiously along the edge of the plain, Sun Bird sent scouts into the timber to look for a suitable camp site. At the end of the day they found a sheltered grassy park high up near the summit of the ridge, and the Sioux determined to make it their rendezvous until they were ready to advance upon the Blackfeet.
The following day, at dawn, Sun Bird and White Otter left the war party and set out along the summit of the ridge to look for traces of the Blackfeet camp. Other scouts rode cautiously along the edge of the plain to watch for signs of the Crows or scouting parties of Blackfeet.
Although Sun Bird and White Otter had a splendid view of the plain they failed to discover any evidence of the Blackfeet camp. When they finally saw a large herd of buffaloes grazing contentedly a considerable distance to the northward, they became convinced that the hostile camp was far beyond their view.
"It is useless to look any more," declared White Otter. "The Blackfeet camp is a long ways off."
"Yes, it must be so," said Sun Bird. "We will go back and tell our friends about it."
"Wait," White Otter cried, eagerly. "Here is the trail of great Matohota."
Sun Bird hastened to his side and saw the fresh tracks of a grizzly bear. The trail led down into the timber. The footprints were of unusual size, and the Sioux studied them with flashing eyes. The Dacotahs considered killing great Matohota an exploit worthy of the bravest warrior, and only second in importance to killing an enemy. A necklace of bear claws was accepted as positive proof of the hunting ability and courage of the wearer. Although both Sun Bird and White Otter had killed several of those fierce beasts, they became enthusiastic at the idea of securing the great claws of the bear which had recently passed.
"If we kill Matohota we will have something to show our friends," said White Otter.
"He cannot be far away," Sun Bird declared, hopefully. "Come, we will follow him."
They followed the trail down through the timber, and about half way down the ridge it brought them within sight of another open grassy park. Aware that those places were favorite feeding places for elk and deer, the expert young hunters realized that the grizzly might have gone there to feast upon the carcass of one of those animals.
"We must be careful," White Otter warned, softly.
They approached the spot with great caution, peering anxiously between the trees to discover the grizzly. As the wind favored them, they hoped to get within bow range without alarming their game. However, when they finally came in full view of the park the bear was nowhere in sight. They were keenly disappointed.
"Matohota has gone on," said Sun Bird.
"We will see," replied White Otter.
They stole to the edge of the timber and looked anxiously across the grassy meadow. The trail of the bear was plainly visible through the high grass. As they followed it with their eyes they suddenly discovered something lying in the far corner of the park. One glance told them that it was dead, but it was some time before they could make sure what it was. Then they looked at each other in astonishment. They had suddenly identified the object as a dead pony. The discovery made them cautious, and they sank noiselessly into the bushes to watch.
"It is mysterious," whispered Sun Bird. "How did that pony come here?"
"We will try to find out about it, but first we must watch," replied White Otter.
They watched a long time, searching the borders of the meadow with great care. It was difficult to learn much about the dead pony from where they were, but they saw that the carcass had been partly eaten, and they believed it had been there for some time.
"It is good," said White Otter. "Matohota comes here to eat that pony. If we wait here we will see him."
"Perhaps he is sleeping over there in those bushes," suggested Sun Bird.
They knew that after gorging itself with meat, a bear often would lie down to sleep near the carcass, so that it would find a meal close at hand when it again became hungry. It seemed probable, therefore, that the great creature which they sought might be concealed somewhere within bow range of them. They looked carefully along the edge of the woods, hoping to discover a sign which would tell them where the bear had entered the timber. The undergrowth appeared undisturbed, and, as the trail faded out at the spot where the grass had been trampled down about the carcass, there seemed little chance of learning what they wished to know unless they made their way to the dead pony.
"We must go over there and find out about it," Sun Bird proposed, finally.
"Come," said White Otter.
They moved through the timber as stealthily as wolves, and when they drew near the carcass they again stopped to watch and listen. Then they circled to find the trail of the bear. They came upon a wide game trail leading down from the park, and as they stooped to study it they discovered many tracks. Among them were the footprints of the great gray timber wolves, and the clumsy round paw-marks of a mountain lion. The latter track was fresh, and it was evident that the great cat had passed over the trail since daylight. The tracks of the bear, however, were missing.
"Matohota did not come this way," said Sun Bird.
"Perhaps he is close by," White Otter said, cautiously. "We will try to find out where he is. Then we will go and look at that pony. It came along this trail. See, here is a track."
He showed Sun Bird a faint and indistinct impression of a hoof at one side of the trail. It was some days old, and offered them little information.
"Come, we will find out what has become of Matohota, and then we will come back here and find out about this thing," said White Otter.
They soon came upon the trail of the bear. As White Otter had guessed, it circled around the edge of the park, and led back toward the top of the ridge. It was plain, therefore, that the bear had its den somewhere up there among the ledges, and came to the park to feed during the night or at daylight.
"Now we know what to do," declared White Otter. "First we will go and look at that pony. Then we will go down that trail and try to find some more tracks. Then we will come back to this place and wait for Matohota."
"It is good," said Sun Bird.
When they reached the dead pony they were surprised to see the shaft of an arrow protruding from behind its shoulder. For a moment or so they studied it in silence. Then White Otter knelt, and drew his knife.
"Perhaps we will find out what we want to know," he said.
He extracted the arrow and examined it with great care, and then he passed it to Sun Bird. The latter studied it a long time. He noted that the shaft was of willow and feathered along the sides for almost a hand-width. The arrow was considerably longer than those used by the Dacotahs, and the point was made of an unusual red flint. It was the deeply notched model of the war arrows.
"Well, what do you make of it?" White Otter inquired, as Sun Bird finished examining it.
"It is not a Dacotah arrow," replied Sun Bird. "It is not a Crow arrow. It was not made by the Blackfeet. I do not know who made it."
"I cannot tell you about it," said White Otter, as Sun Bird returned the mysterious arrow. "I do not know about the people who live in this country. I know the Crow arrows. I have seen the Blackfeet arrows. I do not know the others."
"I will show it to Sitting Eagle and Lean Wolf," said Sun Bird. "Perhaps they will know about it."
As there seemed to be no other way of learning its identity, they dismissed the arrow from their minds and turned their attention upon the dead pony. It was a pinto, and appeared to have been dead a number of days. They had little doubt that, having been wounded on the plain, it had followed the game trail to the spot where it died.
"Perhaps the man who owned that pony rode up here to get away from his enemies," suggested Sun Bird.
"Perhaps," said White Otter.
Then, as the day had almost ended, they realized that if they intended to remain and watch for Matohota it was time to find a hiding place. As there was not sufficient breeze to stir the leaves, White Otter held a moistened finger above his head to learn the direction of the air current. What there was seemed to come from the north side of the park. As the bear was expected to approach from the west, and the bait was on the east side of the park, the Sioux decided to hide themselves to the southward of the dead pony. Then if the uncertain breeze should suddenly shift to another quarter they would still be to the leeward of the bear.
"Matohota is strong," cautioned White Otter. "We must drive our arrows deep into his body. We must not go too far away."
They concealed themselves in the undergrowth within easy bowshot of the bait and determined to watch until the bear appeared. The light was already fading from the park, and the heavy evening shadows were forming at the edge of the woods. Then, as darkness settled down, the moon flooded the little park with its silvery light.
"It is good," whispered Sun Bird. "Wakantunka has sent Hanyetuwi, the night sun, to give us light."
"It is good," replied White Otter.
They had little hope that Matohota would appear before daylight, and still they realized that he might come to feed under cover of the night. It was not long, however, before they heard other prowlers approaching the bait. The crackling of brush, and soft, stealthy footfalls caused them to watch expectantly. A lithe, shadowy form moved swiftly into the moonlight. It stopped a moment and raised a long pointed snout into the air. Then it trotted gracefully to the bait. The Sioux recognized it as Huhasapedan, the fox. They watched with great interest as the suspicious creature circled warily about the carcass, stopping in alarm at the slightest sound, and peering nervously into the shadows. It had barely begun to eat, when a second woods prowler entered the park and moved slowly toward the bait. The fox crouched behind the pony and watched uneasily.
"Wolf," whispered White Otter.
The wolf had discovered the fox and was bristling and growling, as it walked stiffly toward the pony. Awed by the threats of its formidable rival, the fox slunk to the edge of the timber and sat upon its haunches to watch until the wolf left the carcass. The wolf feasted ravenously, tearing large pieces of flesh from the bait and growling savagely as it ate. It was one of the great gaunt timber wolves, and the Sioux longed to pierce it with their arrows. They resisted the temptation, however, for they knew that Matohota might become suspicious at the scent of fresh blood.
"It would be foolish," said White Otter.
The wolf refused to leave until it had gorged itself with meat, and then it moved threateningly toward the fox. The latter immediately retreated across the park and failed to show itself until the wolf had slunk into the shadows.
The fox had barely returned to the bait when it was again interrupted by another nocturnal prowler. A short, catlike snarl sounded from the direction of the game trail, and as the fox paused to listen, a long, crouching form appeared at the edge of the moonlight. Two glowing eyes blazed defiance, and the fox bounded into the woods.
"It is fierce Imutanka," breathed Sun Bird.
They had instantly recognized the stealthy prowler as a mountain lion. They watched with bated breath as the great cat moved cautiously toward the carcass. In spite of its size and strength it seemed as wary and fearful as Huhasapedan, the fox. It would slink forward a few paces and then stop and look furtively about the park. Once it sniffed suspiciously, and parted its lips in a silent snarl. Had it caught the wolf scent? Was great Matohota approaching? The Sioux grew tense at the thought. As the lion drew nearer the pony it crouched close to the ground, growling and nervously lashing its tail. It appeared to be preparing to spring upon the carcass. It was an unusually large specimen, and the Sioux were eager to secure so noble a trophy.
"Come, we will kill Imutanka," suggested Sun Bird.
"Wait," cautioned White Otter.
A moment afterward a great bulky form appeared at the opposite side of the park. The Sioux recognized it at once. It was great Matohota, the grizzly. His sudden appearance caused their hearts to beat wildly against their ribs, while their eyes flashed with the light of battle. He was a foe worthy of the bravest warrior, and the young Dacotahs longed for the chance to engage him in battle.
A slight breeze was stirring from the eastward, and Matohota had evidently caught the scent of the mountain lion. He had raised his head and was staring across the park. The Sioux looked toward the lion. It, too, had discovered the bear, and was crouching behind the pony, and grumbling threateningly.
"Imutanka will run away," whispered Sun Bird.
"Watch!" cautioned White Otter.
The bear had ambled clumsily into the open, and was following its trail across the park. The Sioux turned their eyes upon the lion. They expected to see it slinking away. Imutanka, however, showed no such intention. His blazing eyes and ugly snarls made it plain that he had no idea of running away. Still, the Sioux could not believe he would dare to oppose the mighty Matohota.
"Imutanka looks brave, but he will run away," insisted Sun Bird.
"We will see," said White Otter.
As the bear came closer the Sioux saw that it was even larger than they had guessed it to be. Matohota looked more than a match for sinewy Imutanka, but the latter still held his ground. It was apparent that having secured possession of the carcass he had no thought of surrendering it without a fight. The Sioux thrilled at the possibility.
"If Imutanka stays there we will see something to talk about," Sun Bird whispered, eagerly.
"Yes, yes, it will be a great fight," replied White Otter.
The bold defiance of the lion seemed to have made Matohota realize the need of caution. He had stopped and was shaking his great head from side to side and growling fiercely. Imutanka replied to his challenge with short, throaty snarls. Then for some moments each gazed into the blazing eyes of the other and appeared to be estimating the strength and courage of its adversary. The Sioux were fascinated by the unusual spectacle. For the moment their desire to kill was overcome by their curiosity to learn the outcome of the fight.
It was some time, however, before the huge Matohota made up his mind to attack his rival. Then, having determined to gain possession of the bait, he rushed furiously upon the lion. The great sinewy cat had little difficulty in avoiding him. Then, as Matohota whirled about with amazing agility, the lion made its spring. Matohota reared upon his hind legs and struck the lion to earth with his huge paw. Imutanka uttered a sharp whine of pain and sprang aside. It was evident that Matohota had drawn first blood. He dropped to all fours and turned quickly about as the lion circled him. The Sioux saw that Imutanka was bleeding freely from a deep gash in the neck. However, the wound only seemed to rouse the lion to greater fury. Spitting, snarling, and growling, it glided stealthily about its adversary, watching for an opening. Matohota, however, was equally alert, and in spite of his great bulk he was sufficiently quick to baffle his foe. Each time Imutanka crouched to spring, Matohota rose upon his hind legs and held his great forepaws ready to deal another deadly blow. Then the lion would immediately relax and attempt to glide behind him, and Matohota would drop down and whirl about in time to prevent the attack.
"Matohota is a great fighter," Sun Bird told White Otter.
"Imutanka is quick, he will fool Matohota," replied White Otter.
A moment later his prophecy was fulfilled. The lion had crouched to spring, and Matohota reared to protect himself. Then Imutanka sprang far to one side, and as Matohota dropped Imutanka was directly behind him. Before Matohota could turn the lion was upon his back. Its great claws tore down through the thick, shaggy coat, and ripped great gashes in his flesh and its flashing fangs sank deep into the back of his neck. Quick to understand his peril, Matohota threw himself and attempted to roll over upon his back. Failing in his efforts to dislodge the lion, Matohota rose upon his hind legs and fell over backward to crush the lion beneath his great bulk. Imutanka was too cunning to be caught. Releasing his hold he sprang away, and as Matohota crashed to the ground the lion jumped for his throat. Matohota caught him in a crushing embrace, and the fight became deadly. Rolling wildly over the ground the ferocious beasts bit and tore each other until it seemed that neither could survive the encounter.
The Sioux looked on with glistening eyes. The savage duel had roused their own hot fighting blood and they were eager to enter the fray.
"Come, we will kill both of them," cried Sun Bird, as he fitted an arrow to his bow.
"Wait, wait," urged White Otter. "We will see who is the greatest warrior."
They watched, therefore, while the fight raged with unabated fury. At last the superior strength of the great Matohota gave him the victory. The lion broke free and sprang from the range of his deadly paws. It crouched and faced him for a moment, and then as he reared to defend himself, Imutanka weakened and turned to slink away into the night.
"Come!" cried Sun Bird, as he rose to his feet.
Two arrows pierced the heart of fierce Imutanka and he fell dead in his tracks. Matohota whirled about at the sharp twang of the bowstrings, and roared defiance at the two figures on the edge of the moonlight. Then as he rushed forward to destroy them in his wrath, he, too, collapsed from the shock of two burning arrows in his great hairy chest. The next moment he rose to his feet and reared unsteadily to repeat the tactics which had proved successful against fierce Imutanka. This time, however, it was a fatal error, for the Sioux drove their arrows through his heart and great Matohota crashed headlong into the grass and followed Imutanka on the Long Trail.
"Hi, we have done a big thing," Sun Bird cried, excitedly, as he rushed into the park to examine the trophies.
"We will have something to tell about," laughed White Otter.