Red Cloud, the Solitary Sioux: A Story of the Great Prairie

by Sir William Francis Butler

“I have not come,” went on the Iroquois, “without a reason; that reason is a warning. Enemies watch for you. They have found the spot where you have built your winter hut; and when the snow leaves the prairies, and the ice breaks in the rivers, the Sircies will seek your life.”

“But I have no quarrel with the Sircies,” answered the Sioux. “No man of the tribe has ever known injury at my hand. Why should they now try to harm me?”

“Because there is another enemy hidden behind them,” said the Iroquois. “The white trader finds many weapons with which he strikes his blows.”

The eyes of the Sioux reflected with a strange wild glare, the fitful light of the fire, but he said nothing. After a while he asked,—

“Is the trader with the Sircies?”

“No, he is living at the white man’s fort by the river of the Gros Ventres.”

The Sioux thought in silence over the tidings the Iroquois had unfolded to him, and already his mind had formed its plan, but he did not even thank his informant for the timely warning.

Looking towards the northern sky, he saw by the position of the Great Bear that morning was drawing near, and that it was time to prepare for the work of the coming day. The conversation with the new comer had been carried on in a low tone. To me it was unintelligible at the time, but later on I became aware of its meaning.

Of the purport of the stranger’s visit; Red Cloud now said nothing, he simply explained the presence of the Iroquois, by remarking that he had struck and followed our trail of the previous day, that he was an old friend, and would join them in hunting the moose during the next few days. The morning already gave every indication of being followed by a day well suited to the pursuit of the moose; the trees rocked and swung under the gusts of storm, and the moan of the wind through the stretch of pine forest promised the hunters the best guarantee of a noiseless approach to the resting-place of that most suspicious and far-hearing denizen of the waste. Breakfast over, we set out from the camp, leaving the sled and harness suspended in the fork of a tree to save the leather fastenings from the attacks of the dogs. Red Cloud led the way, plunging directly into a labyrinth of wood, which soon opened upon a frozen and snow-covered lakelet. At the farther side of this open, a profusion of willow bushes were seen; along these we bent our steps, and soon, in the deep snow that had drifted around the willow stems, a series of large hoof-prints became visible, now leading around the edge of the thickets, now into the midst of them, while the tops in many places hung down, bruised and broken, as though some tall animal had been browsing upon them as he travelled along. The Indians looked at the tracks intently, and then pushed their way through the thicket to the edge of the forest at the farther side; here a perfect network of footmarks seemed to lead in every direction, crossing each other in apparently hopeless confusion. But the Sioux did not appear to have any doubt as to the line he should follow. Passing again into the forest, he held his way without pause through tangled brake and thicket. I, however, noticed that we were now following a double track, that is to say, a track made by an animal which had gone to and returned from the willows by the same line, but the double marks were not always distinctly defined. On the contrary, it required the most careful scrutiny to discover the existence of a double footprint in the holes, so exactly had the animal appeared to place one footstep in the impression already made by him in the snow. I noted that the Sioux, when he did bend down to examine the holes, paid particular attention to the edge of the snow at the point where the hoof of the moose had last quitted the track. At this edge a few fine grains of snow lay on the surface of the older fallen mass, and these light particles seemed to give to the tracker his test of proximity to his game. Sometimes he would blow gently upon them, sometimes he would content himself with pushing the muzzle of his leather-covered gun into the footmarks.