The Sheep Eaters

by William A. Allen

When she had finished eating, she drank her coffee and setting the tin cup down, said with a sigh, "Heap good." Then, after giving me a long and earnest look, "Me heap know you, yes, long time ago; heap talk about mountains and Sheep Eaters, yes."

This was my chance, and I was not slow to take it. "Yes," I said, "and I should like to know more of your people," and as she made no reply I went on, "about the young people, about how they get married."

Still without looking at me, she answered: "Me all time know about young Chief Red Arrow, Papoose, and the beautiful young squaw, Aggretta; face all time like sun, all time beautiful eyes like stars, Aggretta bring springtime and flowers, heap. Yes I tell pale face about Red Eagle Papoose and Aggretta."

By this time many braves were standing around the camp-fire listening to the old Sheep Eater, who rarely talked of her people. She settled herself more comfortably, pulled her blanket around her shoulders, and began her tale in a dull, listless way, but as scene after scene came before her mind, she forgot her audience and herself and lived again those days of her girlhood. As I watched the flush come to her cheeks and the light kindle in her eyes, I lost sight of the withered old relic of a tribe now passed away, and saw only the beautiful girl of the past taking part in the scenes she so vividly described.

This is the story she told: "Red Eagle papoose no name yet. He never do anything to get name. Papoose boy must do something good, save some life, do some great act before he can be great man. Aggretta get name because she so beautiful. Papoose go see Aggretta, stay long time, give her beautiful eagle feathers and beads, but Aggretta no make beautiful eyes at him. Come summer time, Aggretta go to mountain top to pray to sun. Come dark night, storm, Aggretta get lost among clouds. The great storm swept all over mountains and snow fell on ground, on mountain top.

"When Red Eagle papoose find out Aggretta lost on mountain, his heart on ground. He get dried sheep and roots and great bow and arrows, flint arrows, and go to Aggretta."

Fascinated, I listened, oblivious to everything but her story, which I shall have to put into my own words: "Swift as the mountain ram he climbs the rugged rocks and takes the trail to the great shrine wheel. Soon he finds her moccasin tracks, and with all the fleetness of an Indian runner he climbs the rocky trail, here and there stooping to find a footmark, the breaking of a piece of moss, or the displacing of a small stone. The bent grass in places showed the direction in which Aggretta had gone. With bow and arrow he glided on and up. Soon he came to the snow line, where the trail became more precipitous and the snow deeper. He stopped and wildly blew his cedar horn, but no answer came. The storm had abated and the sun's warm rays were making the snow soft. All impressions and trails were obliterated. The reflection of the sun on the snow was blinding. After a careful survey, he struggled on up the trail, whose serpentine twists wound in and out through trees and canyons and dazzling snow until he was almost blinded.

"Entering a narrow canyon filled with fir and spruce trees, he stopped in this haven to rest his tired eyes. When his vision had cleared, his heart gave a bound; he thought he could see a moccasin track ahead in the trail. He was off like a deer, and in a moment he was scraping the soft snow away to find—the tracks of a terrible grizzly. Now he knew there was trouble ahead, for he felt sure the bear would follow Aggretta's trail. His suspicions proved correct, and mile after mile he followed the trail, until he came to the camping ground where the Sheep Eaters met twice a year to worship. Just as he reached an elevated spot he heard the scream of his Aggretta, and starting in the direction from which it came, he saw the grizzly coming straight for him. He brought his long bow to his face and placed the great jagged arrow against the sinew. Dropping on his back, with both feet against the bow and both hands on the sinew, he bent the bow until the arrow was just at full length and the flint touched the bow; then, letting the bear have the shaft full in the breast, he jumped like a cat to one side, and the bear passed. One terrible roar told that the grizzly had been hit in a vital place.

"The bear turned and started after the young brave, who was bounding along toward the scrub fir tree where Aggretta was perched. On came the bear, with the blood streaming from his mouth, steadily gaining on the brave, until it seemed certain he would catch him before the tree was reached. Aggretta, watching the race, gave a cry of warning, and the brave turned suddenly and bounded away down the hill. The bear, infuriated with pain, rushed after him. When the distance between them was short, the brave leaped aside with the agility of a coyote, while the weight of the great monster carried it down the mountain side. Before the bear could make the turn, the brave was beside his Aggretta in the tree. But no sooner had he cleared the ground than the monster was underneath the tree, tearing at the lower limbs, while the shaft remained buried in his vitals.

"The brave took another arrow from his quiver and with deliberate aim he drove the arrow with its obsidian shaft into one of the bear's eyes, cutting it entirely out. The great brute rolled over and with his paws tore the arrow from his eye, but the inward bleeding was fast filling his powerful lungs.