The War Trail

by Elmer Russell Gregor

"Wakantunka, the Great Mystery, has sent me something to eat," White Otter said, reverently. "It is good."

As it was getting quite dark, and as there seemed little probability of seeing game, the Sioux decided to abandon his vigil until daylight. He brought his pony from the timber and tied it in the center of the park to graze. Then he selected his camp site and made a tiny fire of dry sticks. As a precaution against being seen by some prowling foe, he inclosed it with a barricade of rocks to hide its feeble glow. He plucked the grouse and spitted it on a forked stick before the fire. Then he drew his elk skin robe about his shoulders and seated himself to enjoy his evening meal.

After he had eaten the grouse White Otter allowed the fire to die out. Then for a long time he sat in the darkness, listening to the night sounds. The wind whispered softly in the tree tops. The shrill yelping of the coyotes came from the open plain. Then the plaintive cry of the little red owl sounded within bowshot. White Otter listened anxiously. He knew that the call often was used as a signal, and he determined to be on his guard. However, he soon convinced himself that it was genuine, and dismissed it from his mind. Shortly afterward he brought his pony from the park and tied it near him. Then he wrapped himself in his robe and lay down to sleep.

White Otter awakened at daylight and crept stealthily to the edge of the park. As he saw no game, he sat down to watch. He felt quite sure that either deer or elk would soon come there for food and water. In fact he had waited only a short time when he heard something approaching through the undergrowth. Fitting an arrow to his bow, White Otter looked anxiously in the direction of the sound. In a few minutes he saw an old bull elk standing in the shadows at the edge of the woods. It was thin and emaciated, and White Otter knew that its flesh would be tough and unpalatable. It was well within bowshot, but he had no thought of killing it. He had promised his aged grandfather a fat young buck, and he had no intention of disappointing him. As the old bull walked slowly into the open, White Otter grunted, and the elk instantly stopped and looked toward him. Then as the Sioux rose to his feet and showed himself the aged bull turned awkwardly and trotted stiffly into the cover.

"Go, old man," laughed White Otter. "You have lived a long time. I will let you live on. I am——"

He stopped abruptly, for at that moment he heard a loud snort, and a great crackling of brush, as the buck for which he had been waiting raced safely away through the woods. The young hunter flushed with anger.

"I am like a noisy old woman," he grumbled, savagely.

After he had gone to examine the trail of the buck, he again seated himself at the edge of the woods to watch for game. A long time passed before he heard anything. Then he was surprised to hear something coming directly toward him through the woods. It made a great noise, and sounded like a deer or an elk in wild flight. White Otter sprang to his feet and held his arrow in readiness.

In a few moments a splendid blacktail buck leaped into the open. White Otter was astonished to see a huge gray lynx clinging to the buck. As it reached the park, the deer was dragged to its haunches. Then, apparently unmindful of the interested young hunter, the lynx relaxed its hold and sprang at the throat of its victim. The cruel fangs sank deep into the flesh, and although the buck struggled desperately it was soon overcome.

Then White Otter drove his arrow through the lynx. It fell dead with the arrow through its heart. A second arrow ended the agony of the blacktail buck. Elated at his luck the Sioux ran forward to examine his game. He lifted the head of the lynx and gazed intently into the cruel face. Then he addressed the dead animal and made excuses for having killed it, so that its spirit would not depart in anger and seek to avenge itself upon him at some future time.