The Great Sioux Trail: A Story of Mountain and Plain

by Joseph A. Altsheler

The lodge of Inmutanka and Waditaka, who had once been known as Wayaka, became the most attractive in the village. Will lined the fire hole in the centre with stones, and in the roof he made a sort of flue which caused the vent to draw so much better that they were not troubled by smoke. He reinforced the bark floor with more bark, over which the great bear robe was spread on one side of the fire, while the other side was covered with the skins of smaller bears, wolves and wildcats. Many small articles of decoration or adornment hung about the walls. Inmutanka had been in the habit of shutting the door tightly at night, but as Will insisted upon leaving it open partly, no matter how bitter the weather, they always had plenty of fresh air and suffered from no colds. Will, too, insisted upon the utmost cleanliness and neatness, qualities in which the Indian does not always excel, and his example raised the tone of the village.

A period of very great cold came. Will reckoned that the mercury must be at least forty degrees below zero, and, for a week, the people scarcely stirred from their lodges. Then occurred the terrible invasion of the mountain wolves, the like of which the oldest man could not recall. Will and Inmutanka were awakened at dawn by a distant but ferocious whining.

"Wolves," said Inmutanka, "and they are hungry, but they will not attack a village."

He turned over in his warm buffalo robes and prepared to go to sleep again, but the whining grew louder and more ferocious, increasing to such an extent that Inmutanka became alarmed and went to the door. When he pulled back the flap yet farther the howling seemed very near and inexpressibly fierce.

"It is a great pack," said the old Sioux. "I have never before heard so many wolves howl together, and their voices are so big and fierce that they must be those of the great wolves of the northern mountains."

"They're going to attack the village," said Will. "I can tell that by the way they're coming on."

"It is so," said Inmutanka. "They run on the snow, which is frozen so deep that it can bear their weight."

Will threw on rapidly his deerskin suit, his buffalo overcoat and took down his bow and quiver of arrows. Inmutanka meanwhile beat heavily on a war drum, and in the bitter cold and darkness all who were able to fight poured out of the lodges, Xingudan at their head, carrying Will's rifle and revolver.

Several of the Indian women brought torches and held them aloft, casting vivid lines of red upon the frozen snow. From the great corral came frightened neighs and whinnies from the ponies, that knew a terrible foe was at hand. It was probably the ponies that would have been attacked first, but it was not in the character of the Sioux to stay in their lodges and let their animals be devoured. Valiantly, they had rushed forth to meet the most formidable wolf pack that had ever come out of the north, and by the light of the torches Will presently saw the great, gaunt, shadowy forms and the fiery eyes of the huge wolves which, driven by hunger, had boldly attacked a village.

It was impossible for him to estimate even their approximate numbers, but he believed they could not be less than several hundred. They hovered a while at the north side of the village, and then old Xingudan opened fire with the repeating rifle. Howling savagely, the wolves made their rush. The Indians who had rifles fired as fast as they could, but the bows, much more numerous, did the deadlier work. Will, remembering to keep his nerves steady, and standing by the side of his foster father, Inmutanka, sent arrow after arrow, generally at the throats of the wolves, and he rarely missed.