CHAPTER XXIII. THE WOUNDING OF FOX EYE.
The days passed pleasantly and quickly. Everybody in the camp was busy, every one was happy. On the drying scaffolds among the lodges, hung the wide sheets of bright red meat and of white back fat, which slowly turned brown in the dry wind and under the burning sun. And as this dried meat was removed and packed away, other fresh meat took its place, to be in turn removed. All day long women were busy over hides stretched out upon the ground, removing the flesh and fat and hair, and preparing them for lodge-skins. Then presently, new lodges, fresh and white under the sunlight, began to take the place of those that age and use had turned gray and brown. The dogs, which a few weeks before had been gaunt, lean and hungry looking, were now fat and sleek. They no longer spent their time on the prairie hunting little birds and ground squirrels, but gorged with fresh buffalo meat, lay about in the sun and slept, except when disturbed by malicious children who enjoyed creeping up to an unsuspecting or sleeping animal, and beating it with a great stick.
From time to time the camp moved a little way. Buffalo were plenty everywhere. Many were killed and their flesh and skins brought into the camp. One night after a chase, as Jack and Joe were walking about through the camp, a man and a little boy rode up to a lodge close to them. The man's horse was loaded with meat, but on that ridden by the boy, there was only a small pack, wrapped up in the hide of a calf. A woman took the ropes of both horses, but the man, instead of going into his lodge, turned about and called out a short speech in a loud voice. Joe pulled Jack's arm and said, "Let's stop and watch; that's Boss Ribs Hunter. His boy has just killed a calf. It is the first time the little fellow ever hunted, and his father is giving away a horse."
"How do you mean, Joe," said Jack.
"Why, you see," said Joe, "the boy has killed a calf and as he's only a little fellow, it's a pretty big thing for him, and his father wants to show how glad he is by making a present, so he called out and told Last Coyote to come and see what his boy had done. Last Coyote is old and poor. He hasn't any relations and I don't believe he's even got a horse. It is a pretty brave thing of Boss Ribs Hunter to do, to give him a horse, because he knows that he never can expect Last Coyote to give him one. Sometimes you know, a man will give away a horse to a rich person, and then before very long, this rich person will feel that he's either got to give a horse back again, or some other good present. But when anybody gives a present to a poor man, it shows that he has a strong heart." While he was saying this, an old man in a very much worn robe had come out of a lodge not far off, and had walked up to Boss Ribs Hunter. He spoke to the man, pointing first to his little boy and then to the horse with the small pack of meat on it, and presently, without a word, the old man clambered onto the horse's back, and rode away through the camp singing as he went.
"Now," said Joe, "you'll see that old man will ride all around through the camp, and will tell everybody what that little boy has done, and that Boss Ribs Hunter gave him this horse because he came to see what the boy had done. In that way, everybody in the camp will come to know that the boy has done well, and that Boss Ribs Hunter has a good heart."
A few days after this, the young men, who had been sent out to look for buffalo, reported that they had moved, and that there were few now on the prairie. The chiefs, therefore, gave orders that the camp should be moved north to Milk River, in the hope that on that stream buffalo would be found. The morning when the camp moved, Hugh and Fox Eye, with Jack and Joe, rode away early ahead of the camp and a little to one side of the line of march, to examine the country.
The sun had but just risen when they started, and the air was cool and delightful. The grass of the prairie, which had long before turned yellow, was covered with a white frost, and the insects, which all through the summer had been enjoying life, were stiff with the cold and unable to move. Near a great butte, on the vertical sides of which could be seen the mud homes of many cliff swallows, Jack was surprised to see a great number of these birds on the ground, and when he came to the place and they had flown away, he could see that they had been feeding on some very small beetles, with which the ground was fairly strewn. From a shelf on the side of this butte, as they were passing along, a great lanner falcon swooped down to the prairie close before them, and rose again with a squeaking ground squirrel in his talons, and when it returned to the shelf, was saluted by the whistling cries of two full-grown young, perched there. The time for singing birds had passed, and already the different broods of the little prairie sparrows and the white-winged black birds, were beginning to get together in small flocks. But the meadow-larks, more cheery than their fellows, still whistled with mellow call from sage brush and boulder on either hand. Now and then a coyote barked at the riders from the top of a near-by hill, and perhaps a jack-rabbit sprang from the grass and galloped off, or a badger waddled slowly to one side and disappeared in his hole. Hugh and Fox Eye rode side by side ahead, and the two boys followed.
As the men rode along, they talked, and this was the report of their conversation, which Hugh afterward gave to Jack. "My friend," said Fox Eye, "I have something to tell you. If you were like other white men I should not say it to you, but you are like our own people and I can tell you what is in my mind. This morning I do not feel well, I am afraid. I think something is going to happen; something bad. This is why I think so. Last night my dream came to me while I was asleep, and spoke to me saying, 'My friend, this day you will be in great danger. It may be that you will lose your body. Look out carefully then, and try to see that nothing bad happens; for I tell you that danger is close to you, although I cannot see what it is, nor how it will come.' After my dream had spoken thus, I awoke and the woman was just beginning to build the fire. Ever since then I have thought of this. It troubles me. This morning I could not eat. I do not know what this means, but I know that something bad is likely to happen."
"Well," said Hugh, "I think that you ought to do just what your dream tells you. You must look out carefully, do not go far away, nor into any place where enemies may be hidden. Do not, to-day, run your horse even if they should chase buffalo; it might be that your horse would step into a hole and throw you and hurt you, or a cow might catch you and kill you. Travel quietly wherever you go, and if the day passes without anything happening, then you may feel that by listening to the words of your dream, you have escaped this danger."
"I take your words," said Fox Eye, "you speak well. But I should like to know what this danger is, that is likely to come. It does not seem as if it could be any of the things that you speak of. The prairie is bare of buffalo; they will not chase them. Our young men have travelled far in these days, and no signs of enemies have been seen."
"Well," said Hugh, "you can't tell. Often danger comes from the places that seem least likely, and of course, if enemies should let us know they were coming, before they made the attack, there would not be much danger from them."
"It is true, it is true;" said Fox Eye.
For some hours they travelled on and at length climbed a high butte, from which, Fox Eye had told them, that the Milk River could be seen. He was right. Far away to the northward was the winding green line where the sluggish stream flowed, showing, now and then, a larger patch of green, which marked the growth of a bunch of willows or other shrubs. From this point, too, they could see that there were here, some buffalo; not many, but near them a few scattering bulls, while toward the river the black dots were thicker on the prairie. Looking back over the country they had traversed, they could see, miles away, the dark winding line, which showed where the camp was coming. After a time they started on, and as the sun began to fall toward the west, they saw from time to time, quite near them, a few bulls. One of these was lying on a broken hillside not far from the course they were to follow, and as they approached it, Fox Eye said to Hugh, "I think I will go and kill that bull. My lodge has no fresh meat and I can kill this animal without going far. You go on, and I will kill it and bring some of the meat, and soon overtake you." Presently they passed out of sight of the distant bull, and soon Fox Eye left them, and rode off toward it, while the others went on their way. After a little they heard a distant report of the gun, and Hugh, turning to Jack, said, "Well, I guess the old man got him." Before they had gone very far, however, they heard very faintly, two reports, almost together, and then a third, and Hugh, wheeling his horse, shouted, "Come on, boys, Fox Eye has been attacked;" and in a moment all three were riding as hard as they could, back toward where the bull had been seen. The distance was not great, but to Jack and Joe it seemed as if their horses had never gone so slowly. In a very few minutes, however, they crossed a ridge from which they could see the bull lying on the hillside, and near it, another large animal, but nothing was seen of Fox Eye. A very few minutes more brought them close to the bull, and then they could see that the other animal was Fox Eye's horse lying dead, and a moment later Fox Eye, himself, raised his head from behind the bull's body. As they stopped by him, he spoke to Hugh and said, "You see that the words of my dream came true, friend;" and as he struggled to his feet, they saw that he was wounded in the leg, and was bleeding badly.
Hugh quickly dismounted and looked at the wound, which had been made by a big trade ball that had passed through the fleshy part of the thigh, fortunately without breaking the bone or cutting any important blood vessel.
"Well," said Hugh, "we must fix you up, friend, you are bleeding badly."
"Yes," said Fox Eye, "I was surprised. I did not listen to the words spoken to me in sleep, and have acted foolishly, but first ride to the top of the hill and see where these enemies have gone, I saw three of them and there may be more."
"That's a pretty good idea," said Hugh, "scatter out, boys, and let's go up to the top of the hill. Joe, you take Fox Eye's gun and go to the North; son, you go to the South, and I'll go up in the middle; I guess those fellows saw us coming in plenty of time and have skinned out."
Well spread out, the three rode to the top of the hill and looked carefully over. There, a long way off, galloping over the prairie as hard as they could to the East, were seen three horsemen. They were too far off to be overtaken, and a little search along the hillside showed that there were no more enemies there.
They returned to Fox Eye, and as well as they could, with handkerchiefs and with pieces torn from their shirts, they bandaged his wounds. His horse was dead, and Joe put its saddle on the animal he had been riding, and prepared to go forward on foot.
"I heard two shots and felt that I was hurt."—Page 244
"This is how it happened," said Fox Eye, when Hugh asked him to tell the story of the attack. "I had left my horse behind and crept up close to the bull, and when I shot, it didn't get up; it just died there. Then I went back for my beast and bringing it up to the bull, I began to cut out some meat. I was busy, and I think didn't keep a good look-out, though every moment or two, as I thought, I looked about me, and then the first thing I knew I heard two shots and felt that I was hurt, and saw my horse fall. They had shot him for fear that I should run away. As I fell, I saw the three men running down to strike me, and I raised myself on one elbow, and when they were pretty near, I fired, and the first man fell. I think the others thought I had a double-barrel gun, for they separated and ran back and hid. I was charging my gun as quickly as I could, but it took me a long time to get the ball down, then I quickly crept in between the legs of the bull and used its body for a breastwork. When I looked again, I saw that the man I had shot had disappeared. I think he was only wounded.
"I wondered whether you would hear the shots and come back, and I wondered whether the three men would charge on me again. I could see their heads every little while, as they looked over the hill and I thought that they would charge; but pretty soon they started up the ridge, two of them helping the man that was hurt, and then they disappeared, and soon I heard you coming."
While Fox Eye had been talking, the other three had cut out the buffalo's tongue and taken the meat from his hump, and had put it on Hugh's horse. Hugh and Jack went back up the hill to the point where the man shot by Fox Eye had fallen. There they found blood on the grass and a trail of blood leading down a little sag to a ravine, where the man had crossed. Here there was more blood and moccasin tracks in the sand, which led up the hill. They returned to Fox Eye, who was then helped into the saddle, and Hugh and Jack mounted, and with Joe on foot, the four started down the hill. Before they had gone very far, they came in sight of the moving column, which by this time had quite overtaken them.
When they had come close enough to the camp for the people to get an idea of what had happened, a number of men rode out to meet them, and in a moment, as it seemed, the news had spread through the marching column, that enemies had been seen, and one of the people wounded. The four were at once surrounded by men, anxious for the news, and the shrieks and cries of women who did not know how great the misfortune might have been, resounded in their ears. Thirty or forty soldiers rode away hotly, to visit the scene of the encounter, and if possible to overtake the enemies. Fox Eye was put on a travois and the village started on again and camped that night on Milk River.
The camp on Milk River was a pleasant one, though there was but little wood for the fires; a few small box-elder trees and a good deal of willow brush furnished the only fuel. The stream rippled pleasantly over the rocks which formed its bed, and Hugh told Jack that this was almost the only place on the course of the stream, away from the mountains, where the bottom was hard.
The next day the camp remained here, and young men scouted north of the river, looking for buffalo. A few were seen, but not enough to justify a general hunt, and Hugh expressed the opinion, that within a day or two the camp would move south to one of the streams flowing into the Marias River.
A number of the young men, who had ridden away the night before in pursuit of the enemy, had not yet returned, and Jack asked Hugh, during the morning, whether he thought that they would overtake the Indians who had attacked Fox Eye.
"No," said Hugh, "I don't reckon they will. Those Indians had a big start, and likely they saw the camp coming and knew that they would be pursued, and have ridden clean out of the country. Of course it might be such a thing as the man that Fox Eye wounded would die, and the other two might hide his body somewhere, but I don't believe that these young men that have followed them, will see anything at all of the Indians."
"I would like to have gone off with those fellows," said Jack.
"Yes," said Hugh, "I knew you wanted to, but there would have been no sense in doing it; you'd just have had a long, hard ride, and maybe broken down your horse, all for nothing. I have seen young men start off like that more than fifty times I bet, and they hardly ever come back with anything to show for the trouble they've had."
Toward the middle of the day, the soldiers who had started off the afternoon before, began to come into the camp, stringing along one after another, on tired, stumbling ponies. They reported that nothing had been seen of the enemy, although they had ridden hard in the direction they had taken, following the trail until after dark.
"There," said Hugh to Jack, "what did I tell you? You see they've just had a wild goose chase, and haven't done anything at all. Now I'll tell you what we'll do. You and Joe and me'll go out this afternoon, just before sundown, and you and Joe take your bows and arrows, and we'll see if we can't kill a bull."
Some time before this, Hugh had traded with one of the young men of the camp, for a number of arrows, and Jack had been practicing with the Assinaboine's bow and with these new arrows for some time, so that he was now a pretty fair shot. When he had first obtained the bow, Joe had made him some blunt-headed arrows, and the two boys, going out on the prairie near the camp, had practised shooting until Jack was fairly skillful, although, of course, he could not approach Joe in marksmanship. His efforts to learn how to shoot had been a source of great delight to the small boys of the camp, who enjoyed following him about, laughing at his bad shooting, and then exhibiting to him their own skill.
The accuracy with which these little shavers could use the bow was a constant source of astonishment to Jack. They would watch him shoot at his mark a few times, hailing each miss with derisive yells, and then some naked little fellow, not half his height, would rush up to him, gesticulating and pointing, and then, seemingly without effort or aim, would plant three or four arrows in quick succession, in the very mark that Jack had been missing.
At first their comments and their company greatly embarrassed and disconcerted Jack, but he soon became accustomed to both, and rather enjoyed the society of the noisy little throng.
Jack had also practised riding bareback, both on Pawnee and his new horse, and had reached a point where, clad in moccasins and leggings, he could gallop for half a day without feeling undue fatigue. Hugh had advised him to begin on one of the buffalo running saddles, used by some of the Indians; a square cushion of buckskin, stuffed with buffalo or antelope hair, but without stirrups. Beginning with this, he had gradually passed on to riding the naked horse, and now had a firm grip with knee and calf, on the smooth sides of his mount.
Toward evening that day, the three started out and galloped swiftly up the river, gradually turning into the low hills on its south side. They had gone only three or four miles, when Hugh held up his hand and bending low in the saddle, called their attention to a buffalo, whose back was just visible over a near ridge. "Now, boys," he said, "we can get up within fifty or seventy-five yards of that fellow, and then you can try him. As soon as the bull starts, son, you want to put the quirt on your horse and get up to him as quickly as you can, then shoot at him just as you would if you were using a rifle, except that you want to ride up nearly to his shoulders, before shooting. Let the arrow go in square between the ribs and not slant forward. When you are too far behind, the arrow is likely to strike a rib and just stick in his hide. I expect Jack will get the first shot," he added, turning to Joe, "because he's got the best horse, but I don't feel noways certain that he'll kill, and you must do your best to get the buffalo, if he don't."
They trotted briskly up to the top of the ridge, and were on the crest and within thirty yards of the game, before it saw them; then it dashed off, but in a very short time, Jack was close to the animal's side, and drawing the arrow to its head, he let fly. It was the first time he had shot from a galloping horse, and he did not allow for the motion, so that to his horror and shame, he missed the buffalo clean, the arrow striking deep into the ground under its belly. As the bow twanged, his horse made a lurch to the right and he lost his balance, and would have fallen off if he had not caught the mane, and thus recovered himself. Joe, on his slower horse, was bounding along close behind the buffalo, but gaining on it very slowly, and Jack turning again, passed Joe and once more drew up beside the bull. This time his luck was better, the arrow struck the beast just behind the foreleg and low down. When the horse turned, Jack was ready for him and did not lose his seat, but the prick of the arrow angered the buffalo, which turned sharply and would have caught his horse, if it had not sheered off just as it did. This little delay enabled Joe to come up, and he planted an arrow in the buffalo's side close to Jack's. The animal charged Joe as he had Jack, but the horse easily avoided him. But now the bull was badly wounded and angry, and stopped to fight. Hugh had come up, and the three sat on their horses, fifteen or twenty yards away from the great beast, which with head down and tail stuck stiffly up in the air, glared furiously at them from under the heavy mat of brown hair, which overshadowed its little eyes. Now and then it shook its head angrily, and its long beard swept the prairie grass; but blood was flowing from its mouth and nostrils, and both Hugh and Joe said it would soon fall. By this time Jack had seen plenty of buffalo, but as he sat there and looked at this enormous beast, it seemed to him that he had never beheld any creature so terrifying.
The buffalo stood there for a few moments, ready to fight, then slowly turned as if to run, tottered a few steps and fell on its knees.
"Well," said Hugh, "I guess, son, you and Joe will have to divide that buffalo; 'pears to me from the way those arrows look, that you both killed it."
"Well," said Jack, "the first shot I made, I didn't hit it at all. I would not have thought I could shoot at an enormous animal like that, at five or six yards distance, and miss it, but I did miss it clean. I'm going back after we have butchered, to try and find that arrow."
The buffalo was a young bull, fat and in good order. They took his tongue and the meat from the boss ribs, and packing it on Joe's horse, set out for the camp again. On the way back they spent some little time looking for Jack's arrow, which was finally found, sticking almost straight up in the sand.