“Certainly. You will need some salt, two or three sacks of hardtack, a little dried fruit, a small supply of tea, coffee, sugar, and corn meal, a pony, mule, and wagon, and a good plainsman to act as guide and cook.”
“I suppose the sutlers can furnish me with everything except the last four articles,” said Oscar. “Where are they to come from?”
“There will be no trouble about them. Orderly, tell Big Thompson I want to see him.”
The orderly, who had entered the room in response to the summons, disappeared as soon as he had received his instructions, and the colonel went on:
“The mule and wagon can be found in the village; there are always plenty of them for sale, especially at this season of the year, and the pony can be procured here at the post. Two weeks ago a party of young braves, who had been out on a stock-stealing expedition, came in, very penitent, of course, and profuse in their promises that they would not do so any more; but I took away their arms and dismounted them, and have orders from the government to sell their ponies. They have been appraised by the quartermaster, and you can get one, ranging in price from twenty to seventy-five dollars.”
“They can’t be good for much,” said Oscar.
“There’s right where you are mistaken,” answered the colonel, with a smile. “They are just suited to the plains, and would live where an American horse would starve to death. And as for speed—well, we have horses in the fort that would probably beat the best of them in a race of three or four miles, but beyond that it would be safe to back the endurance of the pony. This man, Big Thompson, whom I shall try to induce to act as your guide, is my favorite scout. He has been out with me on several campaigns, and I know him to be perfectly reliable. As he says himself, he isn’t much to look at, and, having been born and brought up on the plains, he is of course very ignorant, and has some queer notions. He is as superstitious as any Indian, and equal to the best of them in hunting and trailing.”
“That reminds me of something,” said Oscar suddenly. “My friend Leon said that, just before Eben Webster robbed and deserted him, they were warned by one of the escort of a stage-coach that the Indians were on the war-path. I hope I shall run no risk of being discovered by them.”
“You need not be at all alarmed. The Indians to whom he referred were a party of young braves, mostly boys, who broke away from their reservation and went out to raid a camp of their sworn enemies, the Pawnees. They got neatly whipped for their pains, and, on such occasions, they always try to console themselves by taking the scalps of any small party of whites who may chance to fall in their way. They don’t like to go back to their village empty-handed if they can help it. If they had happened to meet Eben and your friend they might have stolen everything they had, but it isn’t at all likely that they would have attempted any scalping so near the post. Some of my troops have them in charge, and they are probably safe at their agency before this time. Here comes Big Thompson now.”
As the colonel said this, the footsteps of the orderly sounded in the hall, and a moment later the door opened, admitting the man who was to be Oscar’s companion and counsellor as long as he remained on the plains.