No sooner had the cable been carried on shore, to be held by Patrick Gass and Reuben Fields and George Shannon while the load was landed, and Captain Clark had stepped out, than three of the Indians grabbed it, and Wah-zing-go, the warrior, put his arms about the mast, as if to keep the boat there. Tor-to-hon-ga began to talk in a loud and angry voice. Captain Clark flushed.
“What does he say, Peter?” he appealed. For Drouillard was on the barge, and only Peter was near. When the five men had started to row the pirogue ashore, with the chiefs and Captain Clark, he had slipped in, too.
“The chief say you cannot go away till you give them more presents,” translated Peter, boldly; for he had picked up some Sioux words and he could read the gestures, also.
“What!” And Captain Clark was angry indeed. He had only five men, two in the boat and three ashore, but he was not afraid. “You tell him we will go on, and he can’t stop us. We are not squaws, but warriors. Our great father has medicine on those boats that will wipe out twenty Sioux nations.”
“The chief says he has plenty warriors, too,” interpreted Peter.
And at that moment the chief sprang for Captain Clark; the warriors spread right and left, jerked arrows from quivers and fitted them to strung bows. Out whipped Captain Clark’s bright sword—the long knife; and Chief Tor-to-hon-ga dodged. Captain Clark’s face was redder than his hair. He acted like a great chief.
“Watch out, Sergeant!” he cried, to Patrick Gass. “Rally on the boat; never mind the rope. Face them and stand together, men!”
Captain Lewis’s voice rang high and stern, from the barge. Out of the white pirogue a dozen men plashed into the shallows and wading and plunging, hastened to reinforce the red pirogue. Corporal Warfington and the six St. Louis soldiers who had been sent along to help as far as the Mandans were with them.
“Steady!” warned Captain Lewis. “Look sharp, Will.” And now the black muzzle of the cannon in the bows of the barge swung full at the shore. Behind it stood Gunner Alexander Willard, with lighted match.
This was enough. Head Chief Black Buffalo shouted an order, and his men left the cable and the pirogue and fell back. The “medicine” of the great father at Washington was, they realized, strong medicine.