CHAPTER XX—WILD HORSESApparently the two grizzlies were confident that they would be able to wait as long as the man whom they had compelled to seek refuge in the tree. The slow minutes passed, and even Reuben, who was watching from the distance and as yet had not been discovered by the bears, was becoming cramped and impatient. He was not willing to call to his friend, for he dared not do anything to attract the attention of his enemies. He was well assured that he would not be able to drive them away as successfully as had Kit Carson by wielding a club.At last when what Reuben was convinced was at least two hours had passed, apparently the two bears decided to abandon their vigil. Apparently, too, they did this not because they were discouraged, but because their feeling of hunger drew them in another direction. With the strange lope or rolling motion with which bears run, both grizzlies advanced to the place where the elk which Kit Carson had shot was lying. This was not far distant from the trees in which the young trappers were hiding, and in a brief time the sounds of the repast were distinctly heard. Snarls and occasional growls were frequent. Once one of the bears rose to a sitting posture and viciously struck his companion on the head with his paw. The action apparently did not arouse the anger of the second bear, who was thoroughly busy in his task of devouring the body of the slain elk.Would the animals never eat their fill? Reuben, cramped and with every nerve tingling, had watched the savage beasts, hoping that they soon would be satisfied and then would depart from the region.At last, when the grizzlies had devoured most of the body, apparently satisfied with their repast, they both turned and for a moment threatened to come back to the place where they had tried to climb the tree in which the young scout had found refuge.Apparently, however, recollections of their experiences at the hands of the fearless young hunter were still vivid. Abruptly they turned away, and, swinging and swaying, made their way toward the mountains and soon disappeared from sight.With the departure of the bears Reuben was confident that he and his friend might safely leave their places of refuge. As Reuben started to descend the tree he was startled by a call from his comrade.“Don’t do that, lad!”“But they have gone,” protested Reuben.“You can’t trust them. No one knows how far away they are. They may simply be waiting for us.”“But I’m all cramped, I have been here so long. It doesn’t seem to me I can stay much longer.”“Oh, yes, you can,” called Kit Carson encouragingly. “We can stay here all night, if we have to.”It was late in the afternoon when at last a low call from Kit Carson caused Reuben to descend the tree. His muscles were so stiff from remaining such a long time in his cramped position that it was with difficulty that he was able to walk. His friend stopped for a moment as soon as he drew near and showed Reuben how he stretched his own weary muscles and exercised his arms which were almost numb.“Do you think the bears have gone for good and all?” inquired Reuben.“I think so. You had better load your rifle, though I don’t know that it would do you very much good. I have known a grizzly to be shot in the head, and, as far as one could see, pay about as much attention to the bullet as he would to a pebble. They must have heads that are mighty strong and thick. However,” he continued, “see that your rifle is all ready and we’ll start.”Cautiously the two trappers made their way from the place where both had been so nearly caught, and after a quarter of an hour had elapsed Kit Carson declared that the bears must have gone in the opposite direction from the one which they were following and were no longer to be feared. Somewhat assured by his companion’s confidence, Reuben nevertheless kept a careful watch as with his friend he advanced through the valley.The young hunter was greatly surprised when they came near to the end of the valley to discover a small Indian village before them. He had been unaware of the presence of the redmen and now that he saw this camp his fears returned.“Come on, lad. Don’t be afraid,” said Kit Carson quietly. “I have been here a great many times.”“You have?” exclaimed Reuben. “I didn’t know there was an Indian camp within ten miles of ours.”“Well, you see there is,” replied the scout dryly.“How long has it been here?”“A year or more.”“How do you know?”“I told you I have been over here a good many times and I know all about it. I have talked with some of the braves and they think I’m almost fit to be received into the tribe.” Kit Carson spoke quietly, and yet there was a tone in his voice that caused Reuben to glance sharply at him. There was no change, however, in the expression of the face of the scout, and as apparently he did not wish to continue the conversation the subject was dropped.Not long afterward, however, both trappers were welcomed into the Indian village. The suspicion which possessed Reuben he was not able entirely to conceal. Even the dogs that came sniffing about his feet seemed to be treacherous. Few words were spoken to him, although his companion was cordially received and the statement which he had recently made to Reuben was manifestly confirmed. The Indians all looked upon him as a friend, and in the spirit of friendship bade him and his companion welcome.Reuben, who was eager to be back in camp, found it difficult to understand why Kit Carson insisted upon remaining longer in the village. Indeed, an hour elapsed before he gave the word and the journey was resumed.“I’m going to marry the daughter of the chief,” said Kit Carson, speaking almost as if he were referring to some ordinary occurrence.“What!” exclaimed Reuben, as he spoke gazing in amazement at his companion.“That’s just what I’m going to do,” said Kit Carson, smiling slightly at the astonishment of his friend.“But I don’t see——” began Reuben.“No, you don’t see, but I do, and that’s enough.”“Well, you’re the one to be pleased,” said Reuben. “I wish you much joy.”“Thank you,” replied the scout, laughing quietly. “I reckon some of my friends back at Pain Court would think I was out of my head to marry an Indian squaw. From the expression on your face, Reuben, I can see that you, too, have something of the same idea in your mind.”Reuben did not respond, and for a time the two men continued in silence.“I have known that little Indian girl,” explained Kit Carson, after a long silence, “more than a year. She is as pretty as a picture and as good as she is pretty. It was a long time before the old chief would give her to me, but to-night he told me that he had decided that if I wanted her for my wife and would promise that she might stay in the village while I was trapping he would not oppose me any longer. And he doesn’t like the white men, either,” he added with a laugh.“How is it that he is willing for you to have her, then, if he doesn’t like the whites?”“Oh, he has a notion,” replied Kit Carson simply, “that he can trust me. He says if I say I will do a thing I don’t try to lie out of it.”“He’s right about that,” said Reuben warmly. “That’s just the way everybody that knows you feels.”“Thank you.” There was a tender expression in the eyes of the young scout that prevented Reuben from making any further protest against the action of his friend.“I am going to take you with me to-morrow into the village and let you see how they treat me. Just now, however, Reuben, I would rather you would not say anything about what I have just told you.”Abruptly both men stopped, and in a low voice Reuben said: “What is that? It sounds like thunder.”“It is a drove of wild horses,” answered Kit Carson quickly. “Come with me and we’ll see what they are.”The sun was now about a half-hour above the horizon. In the soft light of the closing day the sound of the approaching body was almost weird. The band of wild horses was steadily drawing nearer the place where the two scouts had concealed themselves. The wind was blowing toward them, or otherwise the horses would not have approached the spot. They were almost as keen in their ability to detect by their sense of smell the presence of an enemy as were the prowling beasts.In a brief time the drove came within sight. At the head was the leader, a powerful and beautiful creature, running easily, his head carried high and his pride showing in his every movement.“Did you ever see such a tail on a horse?” exclaimed Kit Carson in a low voice. “Look at it—it sweeps the ground! Do you know, I believe I’ll get that fellow. If there is anything I am fond of it’s a good horse.”The scout’s fondness for fleet-footed ponies was well known by his friends. Not a man in the camp was his equal as a rider. He seldom used a saddle, and whatever the motion of the animal he was riding might be, Kit Carson bestrode it almost as if they were parts of the same being.Reuben, whose heart was beating wildly as he saw the drove approach, said in a whisper: “How will you get him?”“We’ll fix that up to-morrow. We’ll see to-night where they go.”The approaching horses soon swept past the hiding-place of the two trappers, and turning abruptly disappeared from sight at the entrance to one of the valleys.“They will stay there all night,” said Kit Carson quickly. “Come on now, lad, we’ll go back to camp.”“What makes you think they will stay all night? They may leave before morning.”Kit Carson smiled and shook his head, but made no further response, and in a brief time, delaying only until they had secured a few rabbits and a deer which they chanced to see, soon rejoined their companions.For some reason Kit Carson was silent concerning their visit at the Indian village, and Reuben himself naturally did not refer to it. The leader, however, made much of the drove of wild horses, and it was plain that the young scout’s enthusiasm increased as he described the strength and beauty of the black pony at its head.“I must have him,” he said.“That’s easy to say,” suggested one of the men. “I have heard others talk the same way, but when you run down a pony like that you’ll have your work cut out for you.”“But I’m going to get him,” said Kit confidently. “And I’ll tell you how.”In a low voice he explained to his companions the plan which he had formed for catching the black leader. Every man in the camp was interested, but when at last they sought their tents it had been decided that only Reuben and two others were to share in the attempt.
Apparently the two grizzlies were confident that they would be able to wait as long as the man whom they had compelled to seek refuge in the tree. The slow minutes passed, and even Reuben, who was watching from the distance and as yet had not been discovered by the bears, was becoming cramped and impatient. He was not willing to call to his friend, for he dared not do anything to attract the attention of his enemies. He was well assured that he would not be able to drive them away as successfully as had Kit Carson by wielding a club.
At last when what Reuben was convinced was at least two hours had passed, apparently the two bears decided to abandon their vigil. Apparently, too, they did this not because they were discouraged, but because their feeling of hunger drew them in another direction. With the strange lope or rolling motion with which bears run, both grizzlies advanced to the place where the elk which Kit Carson had shot was lying. This was not far distant from the trees in which the young trappers were hiding, and in a brief time the sounds of the repast were distinctly heard. Snarls and occasional growls were frequent. Once one of the bears rose to a sitting posture and viciously struck his companion on the head with his paw. The action apparently did not arouse the anger of the second bear, who was thoroughly busy in his task of devouring the body of the slain elk.
Would the animals never eat their fill? Reuben, cramped and with every nerve tingling, had watched the savage beasts, hoping that they soon would be satisfied and then would depart from the region.
At last, when the grizzlies had devoured most of the body, apparently satisfied with their repast, they both turned and for a moment threatened to come back to the place where they had tried to climb the tree in which the young scout had found refuge.
Apparently, however, recollections of their experiences at the hands of the fearless young hunter were still vivid. Abruptly they turned away, and, swinging and swaying, made their way toward the mountains and soon disappeared from sight.
With the departure of the bears Reuben was confident that he and his friend might safely leave their places of refuge. As Reuben started to descend the tree he was startled by a call from his comrade.
“Don’t do that, lad!”
“But they have gone,” protested Reuben.
“You can’t trust them. No one knows how far away they are. They may simply be waiting for us.”
“But I’m all cramped, I have been here so long. It doesn’t seem to me I can stay much longer.”
“Oh, yes, you can,” called Kit Carson encouragingly. “We can stay here all night, if we have to.”
It was late in the afternoon when at last a low call from Kit Carson caused Reuben to descend the tree. His muscles were so stiff from remaining such a long time in his cramped position that it was with difficulty that he was able to walk. His friend stopped for a moment as soon as he drew near and showed Reuben how he stretched his own weary muscles and exercised his arms which were almost numb.
“Do you think the bears have gone for good and all?” inquired Reuben.
“I think so. You had better load your rifle, though I don’t know that it would do you very much good. I have known a grizzly to be shot in the head, and, as far as one could see, pay about as much attention to the bullet as he would to a pebble. They must have heads that are mighty strong and thick. However,” he continued, “see that your rifle is all ready and we’ll start.”
Cautiously the two trappers made their way from the place where both had been so nearly caught, and after a quarter of an hour had elapsed Kit Carson declared that the bears must have gone in the opposite direction from the one which they were following and were no longer to be feared. Somewhat assured by his companion’s confidence, Reuben nevertheless kept a careful watch as with his friend he advanced through the valley.
The young hunter was greatly surprised when they came near to the end of the valley to discover a small Indian village before them. He had been unaware of the presence of the redmen and now that he saw this camp his fears returned.
“Come on, lad. Don’t be afraid,” said Kit Carson quietly. “I have been here a great many times.”
“You have?” exclaimed Reuben. “I didn’t know there was an Indian camp within ten miles of ours.”
“Well, you see there is,” replied the scout dryly.
“How long has it been here?”
“A year or more.”
“How do you know?”
“I told you I have been over here a good many times and I know all about it. I have talked with some of the braves and they think I’m almost fit to be received into the tribe.” Kit Carson spoke quietly, and yet there was a tone in his voice that caused Reuben to glance sharply at him. There was no change, however, in the expression of the face of the scout, and as apparently he did not wish to continue the conversation the subject was dropped.
Not long afterward, however, both trappers were welcomed into the Indian village. The suspicion which possessed Reuben he was not able entirely to conceal. Even the dogs that came sniffing about his feet seemed to be treacherous. Few words were spoken to him, although his companion was cordially received and the statement which he had recently made to Reuben was manifestly confirmed. The Indians all looked upon him as a friend, and in the spirit of friendship bade him and his companion welcome.
Reuben, who was eager to be back in camp, found it difficult to understand why Kit Carson insisted upon remaining longer in the village. Indeed, an hour elapsed before he gave the word and the journey was resumed.
“I’m going to marry the daughter of the chief,” said Kit Carson, speaking almost as if he were referring to some ordinary occurrence.
“What!” exclaimed Reuben, as he spoke gazing in amazement at his companion.
“That’s just what I’m going to do,” said Kit Carson, smiling slightly at the astonishment of his friend.
“But I don’t see——” began Reuben.
“No, you don’t see, but I do, and that’s enough.”
“Well, you’re the one to be pleased,” said Reuben. “I wish you much joy.”
“Thank you,” replied the scout, laughing quietly. “I reckon some of my friends back at Pain Court would think I was out of my head to marry an Indian squaw. From the expression on your face, Reuben, I can see that you, too, have something of the same idea in your mind.”
Reuben did not respond, and for a time the two men continued in silence.
“I have known that little Indian girl,” explained Kit Carson, after a long silence, “more than a year. She is as pretty as a picture and as good as she is pretty. It was a long time before the old chief would give her to me, but to-night he told me that he had decided that if I wanted her for my wife and would promise that she might stay in the village while I was trapping he would not oppose me any longer. And he doesn’t like the white men, either,” he added with a laugh.
“How is it that he is willing for you to have her, then, if he doesn’t like the whites?”
“Oh, he has a notion,” replied Kit Carson simply, “that he can trust me. He says if I say I will do a thing I don’t try to lie out of it.”
“He’s right about that,” said Reuben warmly. “That’s just the way everybody that knows you feels.”
“Thank you.” There was a tender expression in the eyes of the young scout that prevented Reuben from making any further protest against the action of his friend.
“I am going to take you with me to-morrow into the village and let you see how they treat me. Just now, however, Reuben, I would rather you would not say anything about what I have just told you.”
Abruptly both men stopped, and in a low voice Reuben said: “What is that? It sounds like thunder.”
“It is a drove of wild horses,” answered Kit Carson quickly. “Come with me and we’ll see what they are.”
The sun was now about a half-hour above the horizon. In the soft light of the closing day the sound of the approaching body was almost weird. The band of wild horses was steadily drawing nearer the place where the two scouts had concealed themselves. The wind was blowing toward them, or otherwise the horses would not have approached the spot. They were almost as keen in their ability to detect by their sense of smell the presence of an enemy as were the prowling beasts.
In a brief time the drove came within sight. At the head was the leader, a powerful and beautiful creature, running easily, his head carried high and his pride showing in his every movement.
“Did you ever see such a tail on a horse?” exclaimed Kit Carson in a low voice. “Look at it—it sweeps the ground! Do you know, I believe I’ll get that fellow. If there is anything I am fond of it’s a good horse.”
The scout’s fondness for fleet-footed ponies was well known by his friends. Not a man in the camp was his equal as a rider. He seldom used a saddle, and whatever the motion of the animal he was riding might be, Kit Carson bestrode it almost as if they were parts of the same being.
Reuben, whose heart was beating wildly as he saw the drove approach, said in a whisper: “How will you get him?”
“We’ll fix that up to-morrow. We’ll see to-night where they go.”
The approaching horses soon swept past the hiding-place of the two trappers, and turning abruptly disappeared from sight at the entrance to one of the valleys.
“They will stay there all night,” said Kit Carson quickly. “Come on now, lad, we’ll go back to camp.”
“What makes you think they will stay all night? They may leave before morning.”
Kit Carson smiled and shook his head, but made no further response, and in a brief time, delaying only until they had secured a few rabbits and a deer which they chanced to see, soon rejoined their companions.
For some reason Kit Carson was silent concerning their visit at the Indian village, and Reuben himself naturally did not refer to it. The leader, however, made much of the drove of wild horses, and it was plain that the young scout’s enthusiasm increased as he described the strength and beauty of the black pony at its head.
“I must have him,” he said.
“That’s easy to say,” suggested one of the men. “I have heard others talk the same way, but when you run down a pony like that you’ll have your work cut out for you.”
“But I’m going to get him,” said Kit confidently. “And I’ll tell you how.”
In a low voice he explained to his companions the plan which he had formed for catching the black leader. Every man in the camp was interested, but when at last they sought their tents it had been decided that only Reuben and two others were to share in the attempt.