We built a comfortable cabin of two rooms, and had all the food we needed. Indeed, we grew fat and sleek, and Peter, with his clever hands, made us new garments of deerskin. The blankets we had captured from the Navahu kept us warm. And we whiled away the hours when we were not hunting or working on pelts by cutting and straightening arrow shafts, chipping and fastening stone-heads and adjusting the feathering. We were better armed than ever, and Peter and I improved in our shooting, although we could never hope to rival archers like Tawannears and Kachina, who had drawn bows since childhood—just as they were incomparably less expert than the marvelous bowmen of the Plains tribes, who spend their whole lives in attaining proficiency in this weapon, thanks to their being entirely dependent upon it and unable to secure firearms.
Spring set us afoot again. We delayed our departure from the cabin until we were certain the last snow storm had blanketed the mountains, but once we started we moved rapidly, as Tawannears had shaped snow-shoes for all of us, and the soggy crust packed firm. Two weeks' journey fetched us across a divide of land, a mountain-ridge running due north and south; and we descended by a series of valleys which carried us out of the mountains through a gateway betwixt two gigantic peaks that reared skyward many miles apart.*
* This tends to confirm the theory that Ormerod followed the Gunnison east, crossed the Continental Divide near Gannon City, and came down into the valley of the Arkansas, with Pike's Peak on his left and Spanish Peak visible in the distance.—A.D.H.S.
We encountered a river flowing east, which already was gathering size and force from the melting snows of countless minor streams. For want of more accurate guidance we followed its Southern bank, abandoning it twice, when it seemed to deviate to the north, and striking eastward in a bee line, although in each of these instances we picked up the river again.
On this comparatively low tableland the snow had disappeared, and the long grass and foliage were greening out. There was no lack of antelope and deer, and we saw frequent herds of buffalo, the advance-guards of the vast migrations which were shifting from the Southern feeding-grounds. We were now in the country of the horse Indians, those wide-ranging tribes whose bands ride hundreds of miles for a handful of booty or a scalp, lovers of fighting by preference, and we were at pains to avoid all contact with them. Twice we hid in the grass to let gorgeously feathered parties ride past. Once we lay in a patch of timber by the river-bank, unable to move, and watched a band make camp.
But we could not hope to be successful always, especially as the country became flatter and less adaptable for concealment as we traveled east. There arrived a day when the river looped north, and we abandoned it for the third time, squaring our backs to the westering sun and entrusting ourselves to the open plains. The grass here was still short of its midsummer luxuriance. Cover was negligible, and the land rolled evenly in gigantic swells. We were climbing one of these, weary and anxious to reach a water-supply, as a war-party rode over the crest, fifty painted warriors in breech-clouts and moccasins, long hair stuck with feathers, white shields and lance-points glistening, quivers bristling with arrows.
They howled their amazement, and swept down upon us, two of their number racing up the swell behind us to make sure we were not the bait of a larger band, lying in ambush. We bunched together, and made the peace sign, arms upthrust, palms out. But the newcomers rode wearily around us in a contracting circle, their lances slung, arrows notched, ready to overwhelm us with a rain of shafts. They carried hornbound bows that could shoot twice as far as ours. When the scouts scurried back with yells of reassurance, they reduced the circle they had strung until we were fairly within bow-shot from all sides. Then a chief, resplendent in eagle's feathers, hailed us in a sonorous dialect marked by rolling r's. Tawannears started at the words.
"They are the Nemene, or Comanche," he exclaimed. "We are in grave danger, brothers. These men are the mightiest raiders on the plains."
"Shall we fight them?" I asked.
"Yes," approved Kachina, notching an arrow. "Let us fight them."