White Otter

by Elmer Russell Gregor

Realizing that each moment of delay only lessened the chance of escape for both of them, White Otter again attempted to open a way to the Minneconjoux hunter. Laying vigorously about him with his heavy riding quirt he succeeded in crowding several more animals from his path, and advancing considerably closer to Kicking Bull. They were now sufficiently near to call to each other, and the Minneconjoux turned his head and addressed White Otter.

"I see what you are trying to do," he said. "You are very brave. You cannot do this thing. No, if you stay here you may be killed. Perhaps I will not come out of this. But I am not afraid. See how the buffaloes crowd against my legs. Pull back your pony, and keep your life. You are a young man. I have told you the best thing to do."

"I am a Dacotah," cried White Otter. "I have closed my ears to your words. I will stay here until something happens. Perhaps I will find a way to help you."

Roused by the possibility, White Otter redoubled his efforts, and crowded forward until he was on a line with Kicking Bull. There were a number of animals between them, however, and they were so close together that it was impossible to separate them. It looked, therefore, as if his gallant attempt at rescue had been made in vain. Instead of being able to save his tribesman, it began to look as though White Otter was doomed to share the same tragic fate. As he peered anxiously through the blinding smother of dust he saw that he was entirely closed in, and he had slight hope of opening a path through the closely packed ranks of panic-stricken beasts that imprisoned him.

Then he heard a warning shout from Kicking Bull. A moment later the daring Minneconjoux made known his intention of reaching him over the backs of the intervening buffaloes. For a moment White Otter was dazed by the very boldness of the plan. It seemed like the wild whim of a madman, and he wondered whether Kicking Bull had actually lost his senses. As soon as he had recovered from his astonishment, therefore, White Otter called out to warn his tribesman against attempting something which he felt sure would end in certain death.

"No, it is the only thing to do," declared Kicking Bull. "I will do this thing. Now I am getting ready. You must watch me. Then you will know how to save yourself from the buffaloes. Now I am going to start."

Before White Otter could offer further remonstrance, the Minneconjoux slung his weapons across his back and prepared to make the desperate attempt at escape. Seizing the long hair which covered the shoulders of the great bull, Kicking Bull rose to his knees. He balanced himself in that position a moment or two, while his flashing eyes studied the dusty backs of the buffaloes between him and White Otter. Then, having decided what to do, he rose to his feet, still clinging to the coarse mane of the infuriated beast beneath him. For an instant he hesitated, while he caught his balance. Then, as White Otter called a warning, the Minneconjoux relaxed his hold, and half straightened. The next instant he stepped lightly to the back of the next buffalo, steadied himself a moment, and then sprang to the one beyond, and then moved quickly from one to another until he dropped upon the animal beside White Otter. The marvelous exploit was performed so quickly, and so skillfully, that the astounded young Ogalala scarcely realized what had happened.

"Now you have seen something to tell about," laughed Kicking Bull, as he threw his arm about White Otter and drew himself upon the pony.

When White Otter realized that Kicking Bull had actually reached him he was overwhelmed with joy. He felt repaid for having risked his life, and he determined to make a desperate attempt to escape from the herd. The Kiowa pony seemed unmindful of its double burden, and despite the odds against it, the young Ogalala believed that it would eventually carry them to safety. The buffaloes had run a considerable distance since the beginning of the hunt, and most of the Sioux had already abandoned the chase and turned back to claim a share of the spoils. It seemed, therefore, that the panting beasts would soon slacken their pace, and White Otter believed the safest plan would be to continue with the herd until the tired buffaloes finally slowed down sufficiently to allow the pony to escape from their midst. Kicking Bull destroyed his hope, however, by warning him that not far ahead was a rocky stretch of plain which would cause sad havoc if the buffaloes attempted to race over it. He said that many of the awkward brutes would be sure to fall, and the pony would be powerless to save itself from sharing their fate.

Aware that every moment was precious, the Sioux immediately attempted to open a way of escape. While Kicking Bull drove his arrows into the buffaloes directly behind them, White Otter began an attack against those that were crowding from the sides. After a few minutes of vigorous fighting they finally opened up a small gap, and before the buffaloes could close it White Otter pulled the buckskin into the opening. Then they continued to attack the animals behind them, and at last they succeeded in turning them to either side. Once started, the gap continually widened until the little buckskin was soon dropping slowly back toward the rear of the herd, while the buffaloes galloped past on either flank. When they finally escaped, the two Sioux slid from the lathery pony, and looked searchingly into each other's eyes.