Deerfoot on the Prairies

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

The Blackfoot silently led the journey for an hour longer. No one observing the surety of his movements would have thought he had been over the route but once before. Everything appeared to be as familiar as if he had spent his life in the mountains. The trail continued to ascend and soon became harder to travel. Several times it looked to the boys as if they would be checked and turned back, but their guide always found a course that permitted the passage of their horses’ feet.

“This is well enough,” finally remarked Victor, “but I don’t see the need of it. We did a good deal of traveling to-day, and if those Indians to the rear are friendly what’s the use of hurrying to get away from them?”

“I don’t think Mul-tal-la means to travel much farther.”

Even as George spoke the Blackfoot halted. He had been pushing on in order to reach the most favorable spot for camping. It was found near the base of a mass of black frowning rocks, from beneath which bubbled a tiny stream of ice-cold water. This formed a deep pool close to the rocks, and then dripped away in the gloom of the boulders, trees and undergrowth. The place was sheltered against the arctic winds which sometimes rage at this altitude, and indeed was so attractive that while our friends were gathering fuel and preparing for camp, they saw it had been used more than once for the same purpose by other hunting parties in the neighborhood.

Hardly had the animals been relieved of saddles, bridles and the pack, and the fire started, when the three were given a taste of the variable climate of that section. Although summer had fully come, the wind moaned and howled through the trees at the summit of the rocks and on their right and left. Suddenly Victor called out:

“It’s snowing!”

In a twinkling, as it were, the air was filled with blinding flakes, which eddied and whirled about the three and covered their bodies with its white mantle. The horses found protection by huddling close to the pile of stone, though the temperature was not very low.

The flurry passed almost as quickly as it arose. In a few minutes the air was as clear as before, and the moon shone from an unclouded sky. The friends gathered about the fire, which was soon burning vigorously.

It was the turn of George Shelton to go on guard for the first part of the night, changing places with his brother at the usual hour. Since this duty had to be divided among three persons, the Blackfoot would do his share in the early half of the following evening, alternating with George, while Victor would be given rest. This plan was kept up when Deerfoot was absent, so the division of the work was as equitable as it could be. When the party included four people the arrangement was simpler.

The action of Mul-tal-la removed any lingering misgiving the boys may have felt. Had the Blackfoot been distrustful of the honor of Black Elk, the Shoshone chieftain, he himself would have acted as sentinel for the first portion and probably throughout all the darkness; but, while the night was still young, he wrapped himself in his blanket and stretched out to sleep, Victor Shelton speedily doing the same.