Deerfoot in The Mountains

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

Finally, at a late hour, the visitors wrapped themselves in their blankets and stretched out on the ground, with their feet turned toward the blaze. The explorers always maintained a watch, for though they felt no fear of the Indians they were subject to unpleasant visits, as in the case when a bison swam a river and went plunging like a steam engine through the camp. Moreover, the men had seen enough of the grizzly bear to hold him in respectful awe, and they did not intend to have any of the brutes steal a march upon them.

The morning was clear and pleasant, and the explorers were astir at an early hour. A breakfast was made from catfish and goose, and a cordial farewell took place. The boys wished Captains Lewis and Clark the best of fortune, and Lewis complimented them, and especially Deerfoot, for the information they had given him of the region through which they expected to force their way. In return, Lewis advised his guests to bear directly to the south and not to follow the course of the Missouri, as he and his company had done. In fact, it would have been absurd for the three to adopt any other plan. They could make no use of the current because they had no boats, and if they procured them from the Indians they could not be made to carry the horses. The distance was much greater by the Lewis and Clark route, which held no attractions to our friends. When, therefore, Victor Shelton told Captain Lewis that his advice would be followed, he said that which had been determined upon before the meeting of the two parties.

[ ]

CHAPTER XXIV.

OVERBOARD.

Our friends, after parting with the Lewis and Clark expedition, pressed southward, in search of a milder climate and a more direct route to their homes. They were traversing a region broken by many streams, detached mountain spurs and ranges of lofty elevation. Black Butte, as it is known to-day, in Dawson County, Montana, was left on the left, after which they rode through the valley of Little Porcupine Creek to the Yellowstone, which was crossed with considerable difficulty. Turning more to the east, they passed the rough, precipitous section, the scene many years afterward of the appalling Custer massacre, and now an immense Indian reservation, and, entering the present State of Wyoming, skirted the foothills of the well-known Big Horn range. Here the scenery was of the grandest character. Had the party not been accustomed for months to such impressive exhibitions of the majesty of nature, they could have spent weeks of enjoyment where the like is found in few parts of the world. They pushed on, however, not making what might be termed a real halt until they came to the Laramie Mountains, almost the equal of the former in picturesque beauty.

By this time the unremitting hard work began to tell upon the horses. Zigzag showed slight lameness, and Jack, the animal ridden by George Shelton, surely needed rest. Only Whirlwind continued as powerful, active and fresh as ever. Deerfoot and the boys always walked a number of miles each day, not only for the sake of the horses, but to gain the exercise each needed. Deerfoot ran races with Whirlwind, who was inconsiderate enough to beat him every time. Sometimes they frolicked like a couple of boys. The Shawanoe delighted to tease the noble creature, who delighted to have him do so. One habit of the youth was to pretend he was offended with the stallion. He would turn his back upon him and repel his advances toward a reconciliation. Whirlwind would poke his nose first over one shoulder and then the other, rubbing it against the cheek of Deerfoot. If the latter sulked too long, Whirlwind would show his impatience by flirting his head against that of the youth, whirling about, kicking up his heels and galloping off. No words could have said more plainly:

"I don't care. Pout all you want to. I shan't coax you any more. I haven't much opinion of you anyway."

And then Deerfoot had to make peace with his offended majesty. But the stallion never held off long, and George and Victor laughed at the antics of the couple.

The halt of which I have spoken was made one afternoon, near the southern end of the Laramie range. No more favorable spot could have been selected, for the grass was abundant and of the best quality. A stream of considerable size issued from the mountains and flowing northeast joined the North Platte, a hundred miles away, and there was enough timber to yield all the fuel needed. The horses were unsaddled and unbridled, the pack removed from the back of Zigzag and the three owners were at liberty to do whatever they chose to pass away the hours. It was so late that they stayed in camp till morning, when it was decided to set off on a hunt, Deerfoot going by himself, while the brothers, as usual, kept company.