“Wal—I ain’t so sartin of that as you seem to be. I know that they steal white men’s hosses, and thar’s no end to an Injun’s devilment, nohow.”
Some of the party were of the opinion that the assailants had been Blackfeet; but the majority sided with Byers, convinced by the Crow blanket and moccasin.
The next morning, after the bodies of the dead had been buried, Laurie and his party pushed on with the train toward the west, and Benning set off on the trail of the midnight assailants, accompanied by Pap Byers, Sam Glass and Dennis Regan. They were on foot, as no horses had been left except such as were absolutely necessary for the train; but they hoped soon to be able to secure a remount.
CHAPTER II.
A PRAIRIE ENCOUNTER.
The prairie was limitless. As far as the eye could see, and as much further as fancy cared to picture, it spread out like an ocean, endless and eternal. In wave upon wave of many-colored luxuriance, it rolled onward, until all color melted into the purplish hue of the horizon. There was, it is true, a thin line of low cottonwoods, marking the course of some little creek; but that might have been a mere coral reef in the ocean, or a swath of drifting seaweed. There were, also, two small islands of trees in the distance; but islands are necessary to prove the existence of ocean. Far away to the westward could be dimly descried the shadowy outlines of lofty mountains; but their snowy peaks, resting among the clouds, could not be distinguished from the clouds, and fancy could easily suppose that the prairie rolled under and beyond them, instead of bathing their rough feet in its flowery waves. As well as vision could decide, the prairie was a limitless ocean.
Only a speck in this vast ocean was the figure of a man on horseback, riding toward the west. He rode slowly, almost listlessly, seeming absorbed in the beauty of the variegated landscape, given up to the sweet influences of the exhilarating and odorous atmosphere.
A fine specimen of a man was this rider, whose age might have been a few years on the sunny side of thirty. He was fully six feet in hight, well formed and athletic, with features that a woman would call handsome, in spite of his bronzed skin. His gray eyes were keen and restless; his chestnut hair, worn long, after the fashion of the Indians and trappers, flowed down upon his shoulders in wavy masses; his mouth was well cut, shaded by a silky mustache; and his beard, long and full, had the same rich color as his hair. His hunting-shirt and leggings were of the finest dressed deer-skin, and were richly and tastefully ornamented. His moccasins, also, showed the patient labor of some Indian woman, and must have cost the wearer a good quantity of trinkets or of scarlet cloth, if, indeed, they had not been a love-gift. His pipe-holder must surely have been a gage d’amour; for it was a triumph of Indian workmanship, such as the squaws of the plains were not in the habit of selling. A double-barreled rifle, short, heavy, and richly finished, was his principal weapon, and rested across his right leg and the pommel of his saddle. A bright and keen-edged hatchet, or small ax, was stuck in his belt, flanked by a hunting-knife in an embroidered sheath. From his appearance, he might have been an independent trapper; but he carried no traps or sack of “possibles,” and had no animal except the fine jet-black horse which he bestrode.
“Nearly noon,” he soliloquized, looking up at the sun. “If I do not strike the trail of old Robinette’s party before long, I shall conclude that they are behind me, and it will be necessary to wait for them. I had better join them, I suppose, as I want an outfit for the coming season, and I am curious to see whether his daughter is as beautiful as she has been represented to be. As if that was a matter that concerned me at all! It is possible that I might find some woman who could persuade me to quit this wild life; but it lacks a great deal of being probable. It is possible, though, that I may have strayed from my course, and I must consult my little true-pointer.”
Stopping his horse, he drew from the bosom of his hunting-shirt a small pocket-compass, rested it in the palm of his hand, and watched its indications.