To an old hunter, footprints in the snow are as an open book, and it was by these “signs” on the trail that the buffalo hunters knew the Sioux had crawled in upon the dispatch-bearer as he rested in a timbered bottom and poured in the bullets that put an end to his career. To the trooper, the plains white with snow had seemed lonely indeed, but, as he well knew, one could not, in those days, trust the plains to be as lonely as they looked, what with the possibility of Mr. Sitting Bull or Mr. Crazy Horse, with a band of his braves, popping out of some coulee, intent upon taking the scalp of any chance wayfarer.
Geronimo and His Band Returning from a Raid in Mexico
Leaving their reservation under such leaders as Geronimo, the Apache Indians, in the period 1882-86, used to take refuge in the Sierra Madre Mountains, and from this stronghold raid the settlements in Mexico and Arizona.
“Bring him to me!” commanded Waumdisapa. “I will know his errand.”
To all this Oma paid little heed. What to her was any living creatures now that she was utterly bereaved?
But the wail of a child pierced her heart and she sprang up, listened intently, just as a smiling young white man, carrying a bundle in his arms, entered the door and nodding carelessly to the chief, said in Sioux, “Here’s a little chap I found in the snow last night. I reckon it belongs here.”
The frenzied mother leaped toward him and snatched the babe from his arms. Her cry of joy was sweet to hear, and as she cuddled the baby close, the hunter’s brown face grew very tender—though he laughed.
“I reckon that youngster’s gone to the right spot, chief. I thought he belonged to your band.”