The Great Sioux Trail Part 29

Will, to whom the romantic and majestic appealed with supreme force, began to find a certain enjoyment, or rather a mental uplift, in his extraordinary position. Before him was the great, black and living river, flowing steadily from the unknown into the unknown, to north and to south the rolling plains stretched away to infinity, and behind him, piercing the skies, rose the misty White Dome, a vast peak; now friendly, that seemed to watch over these faithful comrades of his and himself.

None of them slept until late, and they divided the remainder of the night into watches of two hours apiece, Will's running from two until four in the morning. It was Brady whom he succeeded and it required some effort of the will for him to leap at once from his warm blankets and take the place of sentinel in the night, which was now cold, as usual on the plains. But, while averse to bloodshed, he had drilled himself into soldiers.h.i.+p in action, always prompt, accurate and thorough, and in less than a minute he was walking up and down, rifle on shoulder, eyes open to everything that was to be seen and ears ready for everything that was to be heard. Stephen Brady, the philosopher, looked at him with approval.

"A prompt and obedient lad is sure to be a good and useful man," he said. "You're as big as a man now, but you haven't the years and the experience. I like you, William, and you are ent.i.tled to your share of the Land of Canaan, which, in these later days, may be interpreted variously as the treasures of the spirit and the soul. And now, good-night."

He wrapped himself in his blankets and, sound of body and conscience, he slept at once. Will, walking back and forth, alert, eager, found that nothing had changed while he was in slumber. The buffalo herd flowed on, its speed and its flood the same, while the White Dome towered far into the sky, almost above them, serene, majestic and protecting. It seemed to Will that all the omens were good, that, great though the dangers and hards.h.i.+ps might be, they would triumph surely in the end. And the feeling of victory and confidence was still strong upon him when his watch of two hours was finished and he, too, in his turn, slept again.

CHAPTER X

THE WAR CLUB'S FALL

When Will awoke in the cold dawn he found the herd still pa.s.sing, though it showed signs of diminution in both breadth and density. After breakfast he climbed the cottonwood again, and took another long and searching look through the gla.s.ses.

"I can't yet see the end of the advancing herd under the rim of the horizon," he announced when he descended, "but, as you can tell from the ground, it's thinning out."

"Which means thar'll no longer be a river cutting us off from the hoss Indians on the south," said the Little Giant, "an' which means, too, that it's time fur us to light out from here an' foller the trail."

Curving considerably toward the north for fear of the Indian hunters, who were likely to be where the buffaloes were, they rode at a good pace over the plain, the pack horses and mules following readily without leading. Their curve finally took them so far toward the north that the swells of the plain hid the buffalo herd--only Will's gla.s.ses disclosing traces of the dust cloud--and the thunder of its pa.s.sage no longer reached their ears.

Near sundown they came to a low ridge covered with bushes, and deciding that it was an excellent place for a camp they rode into the thick of it until sure also from the presence of tree growth that they would find water not far away. Will was the first to dismount and as he went over the crest and down the slope in search of a stream or pool, he uttered a cry of horror.

He had come upon a sight, alas! too familiar at that time upon the plains. Scattered about a little gra.s.sy opening were seven or eight human skeletons, picked so clean by the wolves that they were white and glistening. But the lad knew that wolves had not caused their deaths.

Bullet, arrow and lance had done the work. He shuddered again and again, but he was too much of the mountain ranger and plainsman now to turn aside because of horror.

He concluded that the skeletons represented perhaps two families, surprised and slaughtered by the Sioux. Several of them were small, evidently those of children, and he arrived at the number two because he saw in the bushes near by two of the great wagons of the emigrant camp, overturned and sacked. Just beyond was a small, clear stream which obviously had caused the victims to stop there.

Will walked back slowly and gravely to his comrades.

"Did you find water, young William?" asked the Little Giant jovially.

"I did," replied the lad briefly.

"Then why does that gloom set upon your brow?"

"Because I found something else, too."

"What else do we need? Water fur ourselves an' the animals is all we want."

"But I found something else, I tell you, Tom Bent, and it was not a sight pleasant to see."

The Little Giant noticed the shudder in the lad's tones, and he asked more seriously:

"Signs of hostile bands comin', young William?"

"No, not that, but signs where they have pa.s.sed, skeletons of those whom they have slain, just beyond the bushes there, picked clean, white and glistening. Come with me and see!"

The others, who heard, went also, and the men looked reflectively at the scene.

"I've seen its like often," said Boyd. "The emigrants push on, straight into the Indian country. Neither hards.h.i.+ps, nor troops, nor the Indians themselves can stop 'em. Wherever a party is cut off, two come to take its place. I guess this group was surprised, and killed without a chance to fight back."

"How do you know that?" asked Will.

"'Cause the wagons are turned over. That shows that the horses were still hitched to 'em, when the firin' from ambush began, and in their frightened struggles tipped 'em on one side. Suppose we go through 'em."

"What for, Jim?"

"This must have been done at least a couple of months ago. The weather-beaten canvas covers and the general condition of the wagons show that. War not being then an open matter the Indians might have hurried away without making a thorough overhauling. Then, too, it might have been done by wandering Piegans or Blackfeet or Northern Cheyennes, who, knowing they were on Sioux territory, were anxious to get away with their spoil as quickly as they could."

"Good sound reasonin', Jim," said the Little Giant, "an' we'll sh.o.r.ely take a good look through them wagons."

The wagons, as usual with those crossing the plains, contained many little boxes and lockers and secret places, needful on such long journeys, and they searched minutely through every square inch of the interior s.p.a.ce. The Indians had not been so bad at the sack themselves, but they found several things of value, some medicines in a small locker, two saws, several gimlets and other tools, and under a false bottom in one of the wagons, which the sharp eye of the Little Giant detected, a great mat filled with coffee, containing at least one hundred pounds.

They could have discovered nothing that would have pleased them more, since coffee was always precious to the frontiersman, and together they uttered a shout of triumph. Then they divided it among their own sacks and continued the search looking for more false bottoms. They were rewarded in only a single instance and in that they found an excellent pocket compa.s.s, which they a.s.signed to Bent.

Their gleanings finished, they made camp and pa.s.sed a peaceful night, resuming the journey early the next morning. They would have buried the bones of the slain, as they had spades and picks for mining work, but they felt they should not linger, as they were now in country infested by the Sioux and it was not well to remain long in one place. Hence, they rode away under an early sun, and soon the memory of the slaughter by the little stream faded from their minds. Events were too great and pressing for them to dwell long upon anything detached from their own lives.

On the second day afterward they curved back toward the south and struck the great buffalo trail. But the herd, which did have an end after all, had now pa.s.sed, and they saw only stragglers. As the trail led into the northwest and their own trail must be more nearly west, they crossed it and did not stop until half the night had gone, as they knew the Indians were most to be dreaded near the herd or in its path.

When they camped now Will could no longer see the White Dome, which had followed them so long, watching over them like a great and majestic friend. He missed that lofty white signal in the sky, feeling as if a good omen had gone, and that the signs would not now be so favorable.

But the depression was only momentary. He had cultivated too strong and courageous a will ever to allow himself to be depressed long.

At noon they were far from the hills and out on the open plains, which spread swell on swell before them, seemingly to infinity, with only a lone tree here and there, and at rare intervals a sluggish stream an inch or two deep and dangerous with quicksands. The water of these little creeks was not good, touched at times with alkali, but they made the horses and mules drink it, saving the pure supply they carried for a period of greater need.

Will used his gla.s.ses almost continually, watching for a possible enemy or anything else that might appear upon the plain, and he saw occasional groups of the buffalo, a dozen or so, at which he expressed surprise.

"And why are you surprised, young William?" asked Brady. "Don't you know enough of this mighty West not to be surprised at anything?"

"I saw so many millions in that herd going into the northwest," replied the lad, "that I thought it must have included all the buffaloes in the world. Yet here are more, scattered in little groups."

"And there are other herds millions strong far down in the south, and still others just as strong, Montana way. It may be in this great hunt of ours that we can live on the buffalo, just as the Indians do."

They slept that night on the open plain, warm in their blankets and lulled by the eternal winds, and the next morning they were off again at the first upshoot of dawn. It now grew very warm, the sun's rays coming down vertically, while the plain itself seemed to act as a burnished s.h.i.+eld, reflecting them and doubling the heat. Careful of their animals, they gave them a long rest at noon, and then resumed the march at a slow pace. Before sundown Will saw through his gla.s.ses a long line of trees, apparently cottonwoods, running almost due north and south.

"Means a creek," said the Little Giant, "a creek mebbe a leetle bigger than them make-believe creeks we've crossed. I like the plains. They kinder git hold o' you with thar sweep an' thar freedom, but I ain't braggin' any 'bout thar water courses. I've seen some o' the maps in which the rivers cut big an' black an' bold an' long 'cross the plains, same ez ef they wuz ragin' an' t'arin' Ohios an' Missips, an' then I've seen the rivers tha.r.s.elves, more sand than water. An' I love fine, clear streams, runnin' fast, but you hev to go into the mountains to git 'em, whar, ez you've seen, Will, thar are lots o' sparklin' leetle ones, clean full o' pure water, silver, or blue, or gold, or gray, 'cordin' to the way the sun s.h.i.+nes. But I say ag'in when braggin' o' the great plains I keep dark 'bout the rivers an' lakes."

The cottonwoods were six or seven miles away, and when they reached them they found all of the Little Giant's predictions to be true. The stream, a full foot in depth, flowed between banks higher than usual, and its waters, cold and sweet, were entirely devoid of alkali. Following it some distance, they found sloping banks free from the danger of quicksand, and crossed to the other side, where they made a camp among the cottonwoods.

Will, weary from the long ride, went to sleep as soon as dusk came, but he was awakened somewhere near the middle of the night by the hand of Boyd on his shoulder.

"What is it?" he asked, sitting up and not yet wholly awake.

"Quiet!" whispered Boyd. "Reach for your rifle, and then don't stir. The Sioux are out on the plain to the west, in front of us. Tom, who was on watch, heard 'em, and then he saw 'em. There's a band of at least fifty on their ponies. We think they know we're here. Likely they heard our animals moving about."

The lad's heart contracted. It seemed a hideous irony of fate that, after having escaped so many dangers by their skill and courage, blind chance should bring such a great menace against them here upon the plains. He drew himself from his blankets, and propping himself upon his elbows pushed forward his repeating rifle. Then he changed his mind, put down his rifle again, and brought to his eyes the precious gla.s.ses, with which he seldom parted.