Our preparations being concluded, and still no signs of the Indians, we sat down to dinner. Shamus was terribly agitated, and the shades of dyspepsia hovered over his cooking; but, although the coffee was muddy and the meat burned, we were in no mood to take exceptions. There was considerable determination visible on the faces of all our party. The red man was getting to be as sore a trouble to us as the black man had been to politicians, and having already lost a day on his account, we were now fully resolved to hold our ground. We had seen the savage in all the terrors of his war-paint, and felt a very comforting degree of assurance that a dozen cool-headed hunters, mostly armed with breech-loaders, possessed the odds.
At length, along the edge of the breaks beyond the Saline, a dark object appeared, followed by another and then another in rapid succession, until forty unmistakable Indians came in sight, and were bearing directly toward us, following the tracks of our wagons. Half a mile off they halted, and then we saw one big fellow ride forward alone. His form seemed a familiar one, and soon it revealed itself as that of our late friend, White Wolf. Now we had, but a few days before, in the space of four brief hours, concluded at least forty treaties of peace with this chief and his drunken braves; yet, remembering past history, we should have wanted at least as many more treaties, before taking the chances of having one of them kept, and admitting the painted heathens before us to full confidence and fellowship.
As the leader of our party, it devolved upon the Professor to go forward and meet the chief, which he promptly did, taking along our man who was acting in Cody's place as guide, to assist him in comprehending the savage's wishes. Midway between us the respective embassadors met. We heard the chief's loud "How, how?" and saw their hand-shaking, and could not help wondering what the Philosopher's class would say, could they have beheld their honored tutor officiating as a frontispiece for such a savage background.
White Wolf stated that he had been out after Pawnees; he could not find them, and so "Indian felt heap bad!" Just at this instant a loud, quick cry came from his knot of warriors, who were now manifesting the wildest excitement, lashing up their ponies, stringing their bows, and making other preparations as if for a fight. Without a word, the chief turned and ran for dear life toward his band, while the Professor and our guide wheeled and ran for dear life toward us. Seldom has the man of science made such progress as did the respected leader of our expedition then. The guide called, "Cover us with your guns!"—a command which we immediately proceeded to obey, evidently to the intense alarm of the Professor, for so completely were they covered, that I doubt if either would have escaped, had we been called upon to fire.
Our first thought had been a suspicion of treachery, but we now saw that the Cheyennes had faced toward the hills, and, following their gaze, we beheld coming down their trail, and upon the tracks of our wagon, another band of mounted Indians. It soon became clear to us that the Pawnees, the Wolf's failure to find whom had made that noble red man feel "heap bad," were coming to find him. We counted them riding along, twenty-five in all—inferior in numbers, it was true, but superior to the Cheyennes in respect to their arms, so that, upon the whole, the two forces now about to come together were not unevenly matched. The Pawnees live beyond the Platte, and for years have been friendly to the whites, even serving in the wars against the other tribes on several occasions.
What a stir there was in the late peaceful valley! The buffalo that were lately feeding along the brow of the plateau had all fled, and here right before us were sixty-five native Americans, bent upon killing each other off, directly under the eyes of their traditional destroyer, the white man. The Professor said it forcibly suggested to his mind some of the fearful gladiatorial tragedies of antiquity. Sachem responded that he wasn't much of a Roman himself, but he could say that in this show he was very glad we occupied the box-seat, the safest place anywhere around there; and we all decided that it must be a face-to-face fight, in which neither party dare run, as that would be disorganization and destruction.
It was strange to see these wild Ishmaelites of the plains warring against each other. Over the wide territory, broad enough for thousands of such pitiful tribes, they had sought out each other for a bloody duel, like two gangs of pirates in combat on mid-ocean; and, like them, if either or both were killed, the world would be all the better for it. It was clearly what would be called, on Wall street, a "brokers' war," in which, when the operators are preying on each other, outsiders are safe.
While we were looking, a wild, disagreeable shout came up from the twenty-five Pawnees, as they charged down into the valley, which was promptly responded to by fierce yells from the forty Cheyennes.
"Let it be our task to bury the dead," said the Professor, looking toward the wagon in which rested his geological spade. "It is extremely problematical whether any of these red men will go out of the valley alive."
And thus another wonderful change had come over the spirit of our dream. From being a scientific and sporting expedition, we had been suddenly metamorphosed into a gang of sextons, who, in a valley among the buffaloes, were witnessing an Indian battle, and waiting to bury the slain.