Part 19 (1/2)
”Hank kin shoot more arrers with his mouth than some Injuns kin with thar bows,” panted Jim, grasping a spoke and yanking his captive roughly against the wheel. ”All I kin imitate is a lance.” He chuckled at his joke and rested.
”When Hank tw.a.n.ged, Big Polecat, hyar, got right up an' stumbled plumb over me,” said Zeb's weary voice. ”I near busted his skull with that newfangled pistol. It's heftier than I'm used ter. Wonder is I didn't bash his brains out. Hyar, gimme a hand, I can't hardly wiggle no more.”
”Wonder what them danged fools air firin' at?” queried Hank, as several shots rang out in quick succession from the other side of the encampment. ”Don't they know th' dance is over till mornin'?”
”Oh, them greenhorns'll be shootin' all night,” growled Ogden. ”If thar's a rush at daylight they won't have no more powder an' ball. When they hadn't oughter shoot, they shoot; when they oughter shoot, thar too danged scared to pull trigger.”
CHAPTER XIII
HURRAH FOR TEXAS
At daylight the only Indians in sight were several rifle shots from the caravan, but encircling it. Hostilities of every nature apparently had ceased, but without causing the travelers to relax in their vigilance.
Breakfast was over before the savages made any move and then a sizable body of them came charging over the prairie, brandis.h.i.+ng their weapons and yelling at the top of their voices. While not the equals of the Comanches in horsemans.h.i.+p they were good riders and as they raced toward the encampment, showing every trick they knew, the spectacle was well worth watching.
”Showin' off,” said Jim Ogden. ”Want ter talk with us. Now we got ter stop them fool greenhorns from shootin'!”
At his warning his companions ran along the line of wagons and begged that not a shot be fired until the captain gave the word. If the Indians wanted a parley the best thing would be to give it to them.
Meanwhile the captain and two experienced men rode slowly forward, stopping while still within rifle shot of their friends. The charging savages pulled up suddenly and stopped, three of their number riding ahead with the same unconcern and calm dignity as the white men had shown. One of them raised a hand, palm out, and when well outside of the range of the rifles of the encampment, stopped and waited. Captain Woodson, raising his hand, led his two companions at a slow walk toward the waiting Indians and when he stopped, the two little parties were within easy speaking distance of each other. Each group was careful to show neither distrust nor fear, and apparently neither was armed. Erect in their saddles, each waited for the other to speak.
”My young men are angry because the white men and their wagons have crossed the p.a.w.nee country and have frightened away the buffalo,” said the leader of the warriors, a chief, through an interpreter.
”The buffalo are like the gra.s.s of the prairies,” replied Woodson. ”They are all around us and are bold enough to charge our wagons on the march and frighten our animals.”
”From the Loup Fork to the Arkansas, from the Big Muddy to the great mountains, is p.a.w.nee country, which none dare enter.”
”The Cheyennes, the Arapahoes, the Osages, and other brave tribes tell us the same thing. We do not know what tribe owns this prairie; but we do know that friends are always welcome in the p.a.w.nee country, and we bring presents for our brave brothers, presents of beads and colored cloth and gla.s.ses that show a man his spirit.”
”The white chief speaks well; but my braves are angry.”
”And my young men are angry because they could not sleep and their animals were frightened like the Comanches are frightened by the p.a.w.nees,” replied Woodson. ”They are hot-headed and are angry at me because I would not let them make war on our friends, the p.a.w.nees.”
”The young men of the p.a.w.nees have not the wisdom of years and did not know the white men were friends, and had brought them presents of horses and powder and whiskey.”
”I have told my young men that the p.a.w.nees are friends. We did not think we would meet our red brothers and have horses only for ourselves. Our whiskey and powder are for the great p.a.w.nee chiefs; our beads and cloth for their young men.”
”It is well,” replied the chief. After a moment's silence he looked keenly into Woodson's eyes. ”The p.a.w.nees are sad. White Bear and two of our young men have not returned to their people.” His eyes flashed and a tenseness seized him and his companions. ”Great Eagle wants to know if his white friends have seen them?”
”Great Eagle's friends found three brave p.a.w.nees in front of their thunder guns and they feared our young men would fire the great medicine rifles and hurt the p.a.w.nees. We sent out and brought White Bear and his warriors to our camp and treated them as welcome guests. Each of them shall have a horse and a musket, with powder and ball, that they will not misunderstand our roughness.”
At that moment yells broke out on all sides of the encampment and warriors were seen das.h.i.+ng west along the trail. A well-armed caravan of twenty-two wagons crawled toward the creek, and Woodson secretly exulted. It was the annual fur caravan from Bent's Fort to the Missouri settlements and every member of it was an experienced man.
The fur train did not seem to be greatly excited by the charging horde, for it only interposed a line of mounted men between the wagons and the savages. The two leaders wheeled and rode slowly off to meet the Indians and soon a second parley was taking place. After a little time the fur caravan, which had moved steadily ahead, reached the encampment and swiftly formed on one side of it. With the coming of this re-enforcement of picked men all danger of war ceased.
Before noon the p.a.w.nee chiefs and some of the elder warriors had paid their visit, received their presents, sold a few horses to wagoners who had jaded animals and then returned to their camp, pitched along the banks of the creek a short distance away. The afternoon was spent in visiting between the two encampments and the night in alert vigilance.
At dawn the animals were turned out to graze under a strong guard and before noon the caravan was on its way again, its rear guard and flankers doubled in strength.
Shortly after leaving Ash Creek they came to great sections of the prairie where the buffalo gra.s.s was cropped as short as though a herd of sheep had crossed it. It marked the grazing ground of the more compact buffalo herds. The next creek was p.a.w.nee Fork, but since it lay only six miles from the last stopping place, and because it was wise to put a greater distance between them and the p.a.w.nees, the caravan crossed it close to where it emptied into the Arkansas, the trail circling at the double bend of the creek and crossing it twice. Great care was needed to keep the wagons from upsetting here, but it was put behind without accident and the night was spent on the open prairie not far from Little c.o.o.n Creek.