The Indians who had been seen from the camp were Arapahoes, in pursuit of Dove-eye and the companions of her flight. Their chief was well enough acquainted with the reputation of both Old Blaze and Silverspur to know that they would not easily be caught, and he had determined to take enough men to follow them, if necessary, into the heart of the Crownation. The pursuers, therefore, were a war-party, numbering nearly two hundred of the best braves of the Arapahoes, a truly formidable array to the Crows and their white friends, if their intentions should prove to be hostile.
Their inclinations were by no means peaceable. They halted on perceiving the Crows, and sent forward scouts to ascertain who and how many they were. When the scouts returned with the report that it was a band of Crows, accompanied by a small body of soldiers, they made preparations to attack, supposing that the Crows and their white allies were coming south to punish the Arapahoes for their last raid into the Crow country. They were a little fearful of coming into collision with Uncle Sam; but there was such a fine opportunity for obtaining scalps and plunder, that almost any excuse would serve them.
They were anticipated, however, by Colonel Wilder, who sent forward Lieutenant Rawlings and one of his men, with a flag of truce, to explain the objects of the expedition.
The messengers halted within a short distance of the Arapahoes, and made signs of amity, which were responded to by Black Horse, who rode out to meet them, accompanied by several warriors. The lieutenant informed them, in the bombastic style supposed to be necessary in dealing with Indians, that their great father in Washington had sent one of his war-chiefs for the purpose of persuading them to make peace with the Crows. The Crows, he said, were anxious for peace, and their head chief had come, accompanied by a number of his wisest warriors, to make peace with the Arapahoes. He concluded by inviting Black Horse to visit the camp of the white chief, who had brought a great many presents for his people.
The Arapaho chief replied evasively. He feared that there was some hidden motive under this invitation, and he wished to find out what it was before giving a positive answer. Besides, he was in pursuit of some fugitives, whom he was very anxious to overtake, and he did not wish to be delayed unless he was sure of gaining. He was anxious to make peace with the Crows, he said; but he was then traveling with a particular object, which he ought to accomplish before attending to any other business. He would like to know whether the lieutenant had seen two white men riding toward the Crowcountry, accompanied by an Indian girl and a negro.
Lieutenant Rawlings replied that he had seen them, and that they were even then in the camp of the white men and the Crows.
Black Horse was rejoiced at receiving this intelligence, though he maintained that stolid gravity of demeanor which permitted no trace of emotion to be seen. He thought that he perceived an opportunity to capture the fugitives, as well as to destroy the party of Crows and white men, and reap a rich harvest of scalps and plunder. He had warriors enough to defeat them; but he was not willing to risk their lives in a fair fight, as long as there was a chance to accomplish his object by stratagem. He commenced to negotiate, therefore, with a view to future treachery.
He was afraid, he said, both of the white men and the Crows. The white men had fought with the Crows against the Arapahoes, and he had reason to believe that they were his enemies. For himself, he was a simple and straightforward man, who was incapable of any treachery; but the Crows were known to be tricky, and he feared that the white men were not any more honest than they ought to be. His duty to his people compelled him to be on his guard against treachery, and it would be nothing more than fair, he thought, that he should be accompanied, on his visit to the white chiefs camp, by as many warriors as he would find there.
Lieutenant Rawlings contended against this proposition to the best of his ability, and protested the sincerity and peaceable intentions of the white men and the Crows; but Black Horse argued the point so mildly, rationally and plausibly, that the lieutenant was finally obliged to agree to his conditions. Having learned from him the numbers of the Crow warriors and white soldiers, Black Horse dismissed him, promising to visit the camp within an hour.
When the lieutenant returned and reported the result of his mission, he was blamed by his commander for the concessions that he had made. There was, also, a general feeling of distrust and uneasiness in the camp concerning the expected visit. Old Blaze did not hesitate to declare that treachery was intended by the Arapahoes, and that they ought not to beallowed to enter the camp. The Crow chief shook his head solemnly, and directed his warriors to put their weapons in good order. Silverspur was also gloomy, and made such preparations as he could, to meet the worst that might happen. Colonel Wilder declared that, as the Arapahoes had been invited to come in equal numbers, they must be allowed to do so. He was there for the purpose of making peace, and must not be frightened from his object by suspicion or possible danger. At the same time, he would be on his guard, and would employ all the means in his power to avert a collision and prevent treachery.
Within the hour the Arapahoes came in sight, approaching the camp. Their numbers and appearance, when they were near enough to be carefully observed, were not calculated to disarm suspicion. The Crows and whites did not number more than seventy-five fighting men; while the Black Horse had brought with him at least a hundred of his best warriors, all completely armed and in fighting trim. They were allowed to enter the camp without question, as preparations had been made to give them a warm reception in case of treachery.
“My red brother has brought a great many of his young men,” suggested Colonel Wilder, when the chiefs had seated themselves on the ground. “The Crows and their white brothers have not so many warriors.”
“The young white chief said that there were so many here;” but Lieutenant Rawlings protested that he had made no such statement.
“Black Horse does not pretend to be good at counting,” superciliously replied the Arapaho. “A few warriors more or less are of no consequence. Why should the white chief care? If he does not wish to harm the Arapahoes, he need not ask to have as many warriors as they have, and he knows that they have no wish to harm his people.”
Colonel Wilder let the subject drop, not deeming it of sufficient importance to allow it to disturb the “talk,” and negotiations for peace were opened. But there was a difficulty at the outset.
In the group of Crows and white men were Old Blaze and Silverspur, and among the Arapahoes was the trader, SilasWormley. Old Blaze was recognized by Black Horse, who had seen him when a prisoner in the Arapaho village, as well as on previous occasions. He had no doubt that the companion of the hunter was Silverspur, whom he knew by reputation. Silas Wormley, since his arrival, had been sharp-sighted enough to catch a glimpse of Dove-eye and Jose, whose presence he had duly reported to the chief. Assured that the fugitives were within his reach, Black Horse devoted his first efforts to gaining possession of them. Without going into particulars, he stated that they had stolen into the Arapaho country, where they had done a great deal of damage, and that he was in pursuit of them. He proposed, before proceeding to talk of peace, that these offenders should be delivered up to the Arapahoes, to be dealt with as they should see fit.
“Is this one of the men?” asked Colonel Wilder, pointing to Silverspur.
The chief nodded assent.
“He is my son.”
“Are not all the white people children of the white chief?” sarcastically inquired Black Horse.
“His mother was my wife. You can not expect me to give up my son to be killed, when he has committed no crime deserving of death.”
“Give us the other man, then—give us the Burnt Face,” said Black Horse, who was willing to temporize, in order to gain time to carry out a little stratagem that he had planned.
“What has he done?”
The chief could allege nothing against Old Blaze, except that he aided Silverspur in carrying off an Arapaho girl.
“I will tell you what he has done,” replied the colonel. “You captured him when he was hunting near your village, doing you no harm, and you released him of your own accord. You had no right to capture him, and you have no right now to reclaim him.”
“At least we can claim the girl,” said the chief, after casting an anxious glance at the plain behind him. “Will you give her to us?”
“What claim have you upon her? She is not an Arapaho.”
“Not an Arapaho!” The chief started, astonished at thisunexpected rebuff. “Does the white chief know what he is saying? Why does he say that she is not an Arapaho?”
“She is a Crow. She was stolen from the Crows many years ago. She is the adopted child of this chief”—pointing to Bad Eye. “She was his brother’s daughter.”
The countenance of Black Horse fell. He knew that it would be useless to deny this fact.
“I begin to be afraid,” he said, “that you will not give us the horses that were stolen from us by these people.”
“You shall have your horses, though I do not believe that they were stolen. Now let us talk of other matters. I have come to try to make peace between the Arapahoes and the Crows, and have brought presents for you.”
Suspicious circumstances were transpiring in the mean time, indicating the nature of the little stratagem that had been planned by the Arapaho chief, and explaining the reasonfor his backward glances across the plain.
The Arapaho warriors, instead of scattering about the camp, to gratify their curiosity, and to pick up such loose available articles as they could lay their hands on, as was the custom of Indians on the plains at friendly talks, had kept in a body, had maintained a stolid gravity of demeanor, and had watched every movement of their chief and of all about the camp.
It soon became evident, also, that their numbers were increasing. On a neighboring elevation, and in the timber that bordered the creek adjoining the camp, were bodies of Arapahoes, from which small squads detached themselves now and then, and sauntered leisurely toward the camp, where they mingled with those who were already there.
These circumstances did not escape the keen eyes of the Arapaho chief, who became bolder and more impudent as he noticed the arrival of his reinforcements and the near approach of the rest of his band.
“The Arapahoes are not fools,” he said, in reply to Colonel Wilder. “They make war or peace when they please, without asking the advice or assistance of the white men.”
Colonel Wilder colored with indignation. He began to perceive that this Indian meant treachery and mischief, and he was not a man who could brook an insult from a savage.
“If my red brother does not wish to make peace,” he said, “he can go as he came. The Arapaho has not done as he promised to do. He said that he would bring no more warriors than were here; but he has brought many more, and his young men are even now coming into the camp. I can not allow this.”
“The white men tell us that we have a great deal of curiosity,” replied Black Horse. “I suppose they speak the truth. My young men always wish to see and hear every thing.”
“They must be sent back. As many warriors as we have may remain; but the rest of the band must remove a mile from our camp.”
Black Horse was silent.
“Let the Arapaho answer. Is he willing to make peace, or does he still wish for war?”
“Is the white chief a coward?” contemptuously replied Black Horse. “Is he afraid of two or three poor Indians? Let him give us our presents, and then we will talk about peace.”
Colonel Wilder made no response to this audacious demand.
“He must give us our presents,” continued Black Horse, “and he must give up our prisoners, who have taken refuge in his camp.”
“When peace is made, the presents will be distributed, and not before. There are no prisoners here who belong to the Arapahoes. If the chief does not wish to make peace, the way is open, and he can go as he came.”
“We must have our presents and our prisoners.”
A child could have seen that a collision was inevitable. Black Horse, with his tomahawk resting on his knee, and his rifle at his side, was haughty and overbearing, and glanced around at his warriors, as if conscious of his superior strength. The warriors, for their part, were collected in a firm phalanx. Their outward demeanor was calm and apparently indifferent, but their eyes, burning with revenge and thirst for blood and spoil, were fastened on their chief, as if waiting for the signal to commence the slaughter. Their teeth were clinched tightly, their muscles were strained as if for a spring, and their left hand held their rifles, while the right grasped the tomahawk or the battle-ax.
On the other side was the same calmness of demeanor, which gave little token of the excitement that was boiling within. The Crow warriors were ready and anxious to be let loose at their antagonists, notwithstanding the disparity in numbers, and behind their commander were drawn up the twenty dragoons, standing at a rest, with their carbines ready for instant action. Bad Eye, whose glance took in every thing that passed, had his weapons within reach, and Colonel Wilder kept his hand within his bosom, where it played nervously with the butt of a pistol.
Silverspur, who smelt blood in the air, had formed a plan of his own, which he meant to carry into effect upon the first outbreak of treachery. He had gradually and almost imperceptibly edged his way toward the Arapaho chief, until he was almost near enough to touch him. As he watched him closely, he perceived that there was a whistle in the end of the handle of his tomahawk, and he had no doubt that that whistle would give the signal for the onset, if any should be given. While appearing to have all his attention concentrated upon the speakers, he carefully kept one eye upon Black Horse and his tomahawk.
“What you ask is entirely out of the question,” said Colonel Wilder, in reply to the last demand of the Arapaho chief. “If you have no better terms to offer, you may go, and take your warriors with you.”
“The Arapahoes come as they please, and go as they please. They have not learned to obey the commands of the white men.”
“If you will not have peace, you shall have war to your heart’s content.”
“Then let it be war!” exclaimed the chief, as he quickly raised his whistle to his lips.
But it did not sound. Before it reached his lips, Silverspur seized him, and, exerting all his strength, jerked him from among his warriors, into the ranks of the opposite side. Old Blaze, who had divined the intentions of his friend, caught the chief by the arms, and held him tightly; while Silverspur, grasping him by the scalp-lock, flashed his keen hunting-knife before his throat.
“Hold!” exclaimed the young man, as the Arapahoes werehandling their weapons, uncertain whether to commence the attack. “If a shot is fired, or if a man moves from his place, your chief dies that instant!”
The position of the Arapahoes was by no means such as Black Horse had expected it to be. Their chief was in the power of their adversaries, liable to be killed at the first hostile movement they should make, and he had been seized before he was able to give them the signal for the onset. Before them was the line of dragoons, with carbines leveled and cocked, and all around them were clustered the Crow warriors, with rifles to the shoulder and arrows on the string. The Arapahoes saw that they had lost the advantage of surprise and the first attack, and were willing to make terms.
Colonel Wilder took the word where his son had left off.
“Leave the camp!” he said. “Draw off, every man of you, a mile from the camp, and take with you the warriors on the hill and in the timber yonder, and your chief will be safe. If you go peaceably, and do as I tell you, the chief will be released as soon as you reach your own camp. If you do not”—pointing at the leveled guns behind him—“you see that we have the advantage of you.”
The Arapahoes hesitated a few moments, consulted a little with each other, and then sullenly returned in a body to their own camp.
Colonel Wilder read Black Horse a severe lecture upon his treacherous conduct, to which the Arapaho listened in silence, and released him when a scout reported that his warriors had all reached their former location.