Deerfoot on the Prairies

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

The surface of the country became more broken, for the two were gradually entering the foothill region of that mighty range which extends over many degrees of the American continent. The air remained clear and sharp, different species of wood were met, and it was not yet noon when they halted beside one of the numerous small streams which issued from the mountains, and, frolicking and tumbling eastward, finally found its way into the Missouri and so on to the Gulf.

The water was crystalline and cold. The horses drank from it, for it was not imprudent to permit them to do so, since their gait had been moderate and they were neither too warm nor too tired. The draught was refreshing to the boys and the Blackfoot. The latter told them that if they would start a fire he would try to woo a meal from the brook, which contained numerous deep pools and abounded with eddies, where fish were sure to be found.

George and Victor set to work with animation. From the stunted pines they broke off dry twigs and fractured larger limbs into pieces until something of a pile was gathered and heaped up against a small boulder. It took some time to make the flame catch from the steel and tinder, but both had had a good deal of experience in kindling a fire in difficulties, and they succeeded in starting a blaze of no mean size.

Mul-tal-la was ready, and appeared with three fish, weighing two or three pounds apiece. They resembled salmon-trout, but were not. However, there was no doubt they would make an excellent meal, and it did not take our friends long to prepare it. As you remember, the boys had brought considerable seasoning in the form of salt and pepper, and they made sparing use of them. The Blackfoot, like the rest of his people, did not know the use of condiments in preparing his food. It would have mattered little to him had he been forced to eat his fish raw, but he had learned to show deference to the tastes of Deerfoot and other civilized persons, and often affected a fastidiousness which was foreign to him.

When the midday meal was finished Mul-tal-la borrowed the glass from George Shelton, and walking a hundred paces or so to the westward, climbed a rock and pointed the instrument to the south and west. He held his erect posture so long, with the instrument immovable, that the boys, who were watching him, were sure he had made the discovery for which he had groped so long and hoped not to make.

Such was the fact. Some five or six miles to the southwest he descried a finger of smoke climbing into the clear air, and showing distinctly against the blue sky, near the foothills. Such a sight was so common and so natural in that part of the world that it would not have caused the Blackfoot any unrest had he not noted a new and disquieting feature. The line of vapor did not climb the sky, as such lighter substance naturally does, but its course was sinuous and waving, like a ribbon held by one end and shaken out.

This proved that it was meant as a signal by those who had kindled the fire. That thin, vibratory line of smoke was a message sent for miles across the wild country, and the wireless telegram carried an important meaning. Who was sending it?

“Black Elk, the Shoshone chieftain,” was the instant answer which presented itself to the Blackfoot. Did it bear any relation to the red man and his white companions? Undoubtedly it did in the estimation of Mul-tal-la.

To whom was the message sent?

That question remained to be answered. Of course it could not be meant for Mul-tal-la and his young friends, for there was no conceivable cause for any signal of that nature. It followed, therefore, that the oscillating line of vapor was intended for other Shoshones who were in the neighborhood.