Jack Among the Indians; Or, A Boy's Summer on the Buffalo Plains

by George Bird Grinnell

For a long time, Hugh stood staring at the bones of the animal before him, and then walking away a few steps, he sat down on the ground and filled his pipe and began to smoke. He said nothing, but kept his eyes fixed on the ground as if he expected to see, written there, something which would be an answer to his unspoken thoughts. The boys had thrown themselves on the grass by his side, and were watching him and waiting patiently, while the three horses fed about close at hand.

At length the pipe was smoked out, and Hugh raised his eyes and looked at the boys, as if he had just discovered that they were near him. Then his face twisted up into a kindly smile, and he said, "Well, boys, what do you make of it?"

"I don't make anything of it, Hugh. What is it?" said Jack.

"Maybe there's been fighting here," said Joe.

"That's right, my son," said Hugh, "that mule was killed by the arrow that we found, that's sure. I expect you both took notice that that arrow was broken about the same time it was shot, likely it broke when the mule fell. What I want to find out is, who did the fighting, and whether the man that lost the mule was the man that lost the gold, and where that man is now. I expect we've got to do a little climbing and do some more hunting. This is the way I figure it as far as we've got: Somebody was jumped by Indians out here on the prairie, and made a run for the river. He had a pack animal and tried to keep it with him as long as he could, but the Indians caught up to him and shot at him and wounded the animal, and he had to let it go. I reckon he had the dust with him on his saddle, or else tied to his body somewhere, and just before he got to the edge of the bluffs, he dropped it. Maybe it was shot away. Then he went over the bluffs to hide or fight in the Bad Lands. Now I reckon, the best thing we can do, is to go back to where you found the gold and then go down into them breaks and see if we can find there, any sign of where a man got killed. All this happened a good many years ago, as you can see from that skeleton over there and the arrow that's in it, and we won't find any signs at all unless the man dropped something else. Maybe his horse might have been wounded and he had to leave that and it died, and maybe he himself got killed. Anyhow, we'll climb down there if you like, and take the natural way to the river and go a little ways. I don't reckon we'll find nothing, but might be such a thing as we would."

They mounted and rode back the way they had come, and then Hugh and Joe climbed down the bluffs, for Hugh said to Jack, "I want you to stop here, son, and look after these horses. It ain't noways likely nothing would happen to them, but it ain't good to leave your horses alone on the prairie without some one to look after them."

Jack sat for a long time, holding the ropes of the three horses and at length, as the sun sank lower and lower toward the west, he began to wonder whether anything had happened. At length, however, he heard a sound of rolling stones below him, and soon Hugh came in sight, followed by Joe. They were a long way off and could not be seen very distinctly, and every now and then they disappeared in some ravine or behind some point of bluff. But Jack thought that Hugh walked queerly, and with his head bowed forward. At length they came in sight again, and for a little while were in plain view, and then Jack could see that Hugh was carrying some burden on his shoulders. As they climbed the last steep ascent, he could see that this was a young mountain sheep, and as he had heard no shot fired, he felt sure that Joe must have killed it.

So it proved. Hugh and Joe had searched a number of the ravines without seeing anything, and had turned back to climb the hills, when suddenly they came upon an old ewe and her lamb, and Joe's ready arrow had killed the little sheep.

"Well, son," said Hugh, "we didn't find any sign of that man, but your partner here made a mighty good shot with his arrow and we brought a little piece of meat along anyhow."

"Yes," said Jack, "when I saw you killed something, I knew it must be Joe for I hadn't heard any shot. Seems to me, Joe, you're pretty lucky with sheep."