Dusty Star

by Olaf Baker

The camp of Dusty Star's people was feverishly astir. The air was filled with rumours. Scouts coming from the north-east brought disquieting tidings. There was a great movement among the Yellow Dogs. Scattered bands were coming in daily to join the main body. It could mean only one thing—the gathering for the final attack.

And still Lone Chief did not come back.

Day after day, scouts watched from the summit of Look-out Bluff, scanning the western prairie eagerly for signs of the returning Medicine-man. Day after day, they returned with heavy faces to the anxiously waiting tribe.

And as the days passed, the rumours grew more black. The Senakals were in movement now. They were allies of the Yellow Dogs, related to them by ties of blood. The Senakals were a powerful tribe. If they joined forces with the Yellow Dogs, the strength of the enemy would be enormously increased.

It was late October now, or, as the Indians named the season, When-the-Geese-fly-South. In the rich meadows along the Wide-Water river, the bunch-grass was very long, and on the slopes of the eastern hills the huckleberries were large and ripe. But no Indian ponies grazed in the meadows now, having been brought closer into camp: for fear of a hostile raid; nor, in the early morning or late evening, were any parties of squaws to be seen out on the prairies, going to the hills, or returning with baskets full of fruit.

Among all the families in the camp, that of Dusty Star was the most disturbed. His parents had always hoped that, sooner or later, he would come back. His mother, especially, had grieved for his absence, and had looked anxiously for his return. It was a pity, she said, they had not taken his part about Kiopo. Only then, who could possibly have foreseen that all this medicine power which Lone Chief made so much of would be discovered in the wolf? But, even so, she thought, they might have been kinder to Dusty Star himself, and have tried more fully to understand his feelings for the wolf. And after all, was it not his father who had presented him with the creature in the beginning, when it was nothing but a little compact bundle of fat and fur, not yet very steady on its legs? She was now quite clear in her own mind that they had been decidedly to blame. Day after day, she waited anxiously for tidings of Lone Chief, and, as night after night brought no news of his whereabouts, her anxiety grew.

The only person who clung stubbornly to her old opinions was Sitting-Always. But that was only to be expected, since she was so very like her name. Once the mind of the old squaw had laid an opinion, she would sit on it like a broody hen, till it went addled in her head. She had never really liked Dusty Star, and she had always hated the wolf. If the wolf had a medicine (which, for her part, she very much doubted) as everybody said, she had made up her mind that it was a bad medicine, and could not help the tribe. As a protest against all this nonsense about the wolf, she painted her face with an extra coat of yellow, and sat in a bad temper at the door of her tepee.

Things were in this state, when, one morning early, a scout came into camp. He brought alarming tidings. He had rashly crossed the border of the Yellow Dog country, and had been seen and chased. Fortunately his pony was a very swift one, and he had reached the Wide-Water river in time to swim across, and so escape. All day he had lain hidden in the willow thickets of the southern bank, and had only dared to leave them after dark. He said that his pursuers were in advance of a large body of Indians who were camped to the north-west of the Sokomix hills.

Instantly Spotted Eagle ordered a strong war-party to start off, in order to meet the advance guard of the enemy, and, if possible, drive them back. Dusty Star's father, Running Wolf, as one of the leading braves, was a member of the party.

At sundown, a solitary Indian came galloping into camp. He was the bearer of terrible news. The war-party had encountered the enemy, and had given battle shortly after noon; but, owing to the fact that the Yellow Dogs greatly outnumbered them, they had been defeated and finally put to flight. But in spite of their victory he did not know whether they would continue their advance immediately or not. It was best to be prepared for the worst.