MR. TUCKER PASSES THE NIGHT AT ERROLSTRATH—HE TELLS SOME STORIES OF HUNTING BIG GAME IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS—SAGACITY OF THE FEMALE BIGHORN—THE AMERICAN COUGAR—THE BEAR AND THE PANTHER—THE RABBIT HUNT—HOW THE BOYS TRAINED THEIR HOUNDS.
Thatevening many of those who had acted as scouts under Captain Tucker came to Errolstrath, where, on the shady veranda they discussed their trip and the possibilities of a prolonged Indian war. The Kiowas had inaugurated hostilities by their raid on the settlements near Council Grove. General Sheridan had already established his headquarters at Fort Harker, and every preparation was going on at that post for a winter campaign against the allied tribes.
After the group on the porch had talked matters over for about two hours, they all went to their respective homes excepting old Mr. Tucker, whom the family had invited to stay all night.As it was but eight o'clock when the others left, Joe and Mr. Tucker turned to the subject of hunting big game, and the latter told some of his own adventures when he was a trapper in the Rocky Mountains many years ago. As Joe had never seen the bighorn of that region, Mr. Tucker related an adventure he once had when hunting for a pair of young ones. He was up in the Yellowstone Range, not very far from the scene of Custer's unequal battle with Sitting Bull, in which the General's entire command was annihilated by the savages.
"My camp was on the Green River," began the old man, "and one morning while I was out baiting my traps, I noticed a she bighorn that I knew would soon have little ones. I was determined to have a pair of kids, as I had a sort of a small menagerie at my camp, but it contained no bighorn. So I started to follow her trail and stay with her until her kids were born, when I intended to capture them and make pets of them.
"I followed her for about two weeks, and was sometimes compelled to creep cautiously after her in my stockinged feet. My stockings were clumsythings made of buckskin, not such stockings as you buy. One evening being so near her, and obliged to climb a steep mountain, I took out my knife and cut off all the silver trimmings of my buckskin suit, so that nothing could jingle and scare her.
"At last, after tracking her day after day, I came upon her den, where she had brought forth two kids. It was the very top of one of the tallest peaks in the Wind River Mountains, in a sort of cave about five feet deep, worn in the side of an enormous rock. When I first got a sight of the kids, they were nearly two weeks old, and were jumping and playing as all of the goat or sheep family are wont to do.
"They were alone, but their mother was on the brink of a precipice, within a hundred yards of them, carefully looking down into the valley below to see if she could discover anything hostile. They are great watchers. The old one had not seen me, and I had made a détour to the very summit of the mountain, where I could see that there was a trail which the mother used to travel in going to and from her young ones. I felt sure that once at the mouth of the cave or holein the big rock, I might easily capture the kids, for which I had footed it so many miles and followed so many days.
"Before I reached the entrance of the den the old one caught a glimpse of me, and in an instant, filled with the courage which the maternal instinct always prompts, she was upon me and trying to get the sharp point of her crooked horns into my legs to toss me over the precipice which formed one of the walls of the mountain. The trail on which I was standing was narrow and slippery. I had left my rifle on the top of the divide, and was in a mighty tight place, for the female bighorn is almost as dangerous as a tiger when enraged and solicitous for the safety of her little ones.
"I fought off the infuriated mother with my hands and feet as well as I could, but the rage of the brute increased terribly every second. Just then she caught sight of her kids, and leaving me, she rushed toward them and ran around them several times, as if telling them she wanted them to do something in her great trouble.
"The distance from the wall of one mountain to the precipice of the other was but eight feet.Both had originally been but one mountain, but ages ago some great convulsion of nature had split them apart, and had left a huge fissure between them at least two thousand feet deep, with walls as smooth as glass.
"The old one ran back and forth from the precipice to the kids several times, showing them as plainly as if she could talk that they must make the leap to escape from their natural enemy. At last, as if the whole matter was understood, the mother flew back to the edge of the cañon, the little ones hot in her tracks, and then all three made the jump, just clearing the frightful gorge by half the length of the young ones.
"I was dumfounded for an instant, but soon recovered my senses and went for my rifle, but the coveted animals were far out of range on the top of the twin peak. I then returned to my camp on Green River more than a hundred miles away, disgusted and worn out, and never again attempted to capture the kids of the bighorn in the fashion of my first venture."
Joe and the rest of the family, remembering Joe's scrap with the young panther, asked theold man if he had ever had any fight with one of them. He said that he had, and would tell them all about it. Then they would go to bed, as it was very late for the ranche folks to be up.
"I remember the day you had that tussle with a young panther, Joe, and I tell you that you got off mighty luckily; the chances were that the animal would have made mincemeat of you if it hadn't been for that thrust with your knife.
"The California lion, puma, or panther, as the animal is indifferently called according to locality, once had a very extensive range on the North American continent. It could be found from the Adirondacks to Patagonia, but now, like nearly all of our indigenous great mammals, is relatively scarce, and is rapidly following the sad trail of the buffalo.
"Although sometimes called a lion, he in nowise resembles either his African or Asiatic namesake. He is more nearly related to the tiger in his habits, though lion-like in color. He is the puma or American cougar of the naturalists. He is really a long-tailed cat,and the only true representative of the genus felis on the continent.
"He is a splendid fellow, too, with sleepy green eyes, skin as soft as velvet and beautifully mottled, and teeth half an inch long and sharp as razors. His paws measure four inches across, and his limbs are as finely proportioned as a sculptor could desire, while all his muscles are as brawny as a prize-fighter's. His breast is broad, and his body as flexible as a snake's. He is an active climber and generally drops or springs upon his prey from a limb where he has carefully secreted himself. Like the majority of wild beasts, he generally runs from man, excepting when cornered, or in the case of a female with kittens when suddenly met; then her motherly love presents itself as strongly as in any other animal.
"The cougar attains its greatest size in the Rocky Mountains, where its body reaches a length of four feet ten inches, and its tail from two to two and a half feet.
"The American panther has one inveterate foe, the bear. The grizzly and the panther are mortal enemies. The famous trappers I haveknown, such men as Kit Carson and Lucien B. Maxwell, have told me that in these animals' frequent combats, the panther generally comes out victor, and that in their early trapping days they often came across the carcass of a bear which had evidently met its death in a lively encounter with a mountain lion, as they called it.
"Carson once related a contest of that character which he had accidentally witnessed. A large deer was running at full speed, closely followed by a panther. The chase had already been a long one, for as they came nearer to where he stood, he could see both of their parched tongues hanging out of their mouths, and their bounding, though powerful, was no longer as elastic as usual. The deer having discovered in the distance a large black bear playing with her cub, stopped for a moment to sniff the air, then coming nearer, he made a bound with head extended, to ascertain whether the bear had kept her position. As the panther was closing with him, the deer wheeled sharply around, and turning almost upon its own trail, passed within thirty yards of its pursuer.The panther, not being able at once to stop his career, gave an angry growl and followed the deer again, but at a distance of some hundred yards. Hearing the growl, the bear drew her body half out of the bushes, remaining quietly on the lookout. Soon the deer again appeared, but his speed was much reduced, and as he approached the spot where the bear lay concealed, it was evident that the animal was calculating the distance with admirable precision. The panther, now expecting to seize his prey easily, followed about thirty yards behind, his eyes so intently fixed on the deer that he did not see the bear at all. Not so the bear; she was aware of the close proximity of her wicked enemy, and she cleared the briars before her and squared herself for action, when the deer with a powerful spring passed clear over her head and disappeared.
"At the moment the deer took the flying leap the panther was close upon him, and was just balancing himself for a spring, when he perceived, to his astonishment, that he was now face to face with a formidable adversary. Not in the least disposed to fly, he crouched, lashing his flanks withhis long tail, while the bear, about five yards from him, remained like a statue, looking at the panther with her fierce, glaring eyes.
"They remained thus a minute: the panther agitated, and apparently undecided, and his sides heaving with exertion; the bear perfectly calm and motionless. Gradually the panther crawled backward until at the right distance for a spring; then throwing all his weight upon his hinder parts to increase his power, he darted upon the bear like lightning and forced his claws into her back. The bear then, with irresistible force, seized the panther with her two fore paws, pressing it with the weight of her body and rolling over it. Carson said that he heard a heavy grunt, a plaintive howl, a crashing of bones, and the panther was dead.
"The cub of the bear came after a few minutes to learn what was going on, examined the victim, and strutted down the hill followed by its mother, who was apparently unhurt. The old trappers used to claim that it was a common practice of the deer, when chased by the panther, to lead him to the haunt of a bear; but I won't vouch for the truth of the statement.
"I have killed several of the creatures," continued Mr. Tucker, "but never had a very serious tussle, excepting once, up in what was then called the Klikatat Valley, in Washington Territory. I had been out after elk, but had not seen any, and was going up a very narrow, rocky ravine looking for their tracks. When I arrived at the head of the little cañon, I heard a snarl. Casting my eyes in the direction of the sound, I saw, to my dismay, a she panther on a flat ledge under a clump of dwarf cedars, with three kittens alongside of her.
"The enraged beast was in the attitude of springing, when I caught sight of her. I had no time to pull my rifle to my shoulder or jump aside. The ravine was so narrow that there was not room enough between the jagged walls to raise the piece and take aim. So quick were the cat's movements that she was almost upon me, her mouth wide open and her claws unsheathed ready for business. I was calm, for I had trained myself never to become excited under danger, and just as she jumped for me I cocked my piece, stuck the muzzle down her throat, and pulled the trigger as she fell upon my shoulder.
"The shot killed her instantly, but not before she had ripped some of the flesh off my arm as she rolled to the ground. It was a remarkably close shot, and a lucky one for me too. I skinned her, but was so sore that I had to return to my camp and dress my wounds, which healed in a few days."
When the story was finished, they all went to bed. Mr. Tucker promised the boys and girls he would remain over the next day and go on a rabbit hunt which they had planned for the morning.
It proved to be a glorious day as the sun rose next morning in a cloudless sky. Breakfast was out of the way by six o'clock, and the boys saddled their buffalo ponies, as they called those which they had captured out of the herd; their sisters' ponies also were saddled. Gertrude had a very gentle animal which her father had traded for with the Pawnees, but he was blind in one eye, and she called him Bartimæus, or Barty for short. He was hard to catch, but when caught was a quiet, easily ridden animal. Kate's was an iron-gray which had been born on a neighboring ranche, and especially broken for her benefit.He was of that small breed peculiar to Texas, and his power of endurance was phenomenal. On a long journey, with only the wild grass to subsist on, they soon wear out the pampered steed of the stable.
The relation between Ginger and his young mistress was remarkable for the confidence and affection each had in and for the other. He was now five years old, and Kate had trained him herself, but had never used whip, spur, or severe curb during her long and patient training. Consequently Ginger responded cheerfully and promptly to her every command. His education had been based upon gentleness and affection. Her love for him was reciprocated in a manner bordering upon human intelligence, thus confirming the theory that kindness is more effective in subordinating the brute creation to our will than the club or kindred harsh measures.
Kate's pony had never been confined by fence or lariat; he roamed at will all over the beautiful prairie or in the timber surrounding Errolstrath. Yet day or night, in sunshine or in storm, if Kate required his services, she had only to go and callhim, and if within the sound of her voice, he would come galloping up to her, neighing cheerfully. When he arrived where she stood, bridle in hand, waiting for him, he would affectionately rub his nose on her arm or shoulder, and submissively follow her to the house. If he happened to be a long way off when she went to seek him, she would jump on his bare back and ride him home. He was always rewarded on these occasions with a lump of sugar or salt, of both of which he was very fond. In the three years of their companionship neither girl nor pony had ever deceived each other: his sugar or salt was never forgotten, nor had he once failed to respond to her summons.
It made no difference when Kate wanted to go anywhere, whether she mounted Ginger bareback and bridleless, or with saddle. Under either condition she was perfectly at her ease, and he equally obedient to her voice, by which alone she frequently guided him.
He was as fleet as the wind, and more than once Kate had run down a cottontail rabbit in a spirited chase over the prairie.
She had christened him Ginger, not becausethere was the slightest resemblance to that spice in his color, but rather for the "spice" in his nature.
Mr. Tucker rode his favorite large roan horse, which he had brought to the ranche with him, and which had carried him so bravely on the long and wearisome trip to the Elkhorn.
The happy little party left Errolstrath about seven o'clock, followed by the old hounds Bluey and Brutus, which were as anxious as their young masters for the excitement of the impending chase.
They rode down the Oxhide under the shade of the elms which fringed its border, until they arrived at the open prairie a mile from the ranche. There the dogs were ordered ahead, and began to run, eagerly looking out for a sight of any foolish rabbit, cottontail or jack, that might be out on the level stretch of country over which the hunters were now loping.
They had not gone on half a mile before they started a big jack from his lair of bunch-grass, where, probably, he had been taking a late nap. With a characteristic bound, jumping stiff-legged for a moment, he fairly flew over the short buffalosod, the dogs after him with every muscle strained to overtake him before he could hide in some tall weeds, or clump of plum bushes which were scattered throughout the prairie at intervals of five or six hundred yards.
Ever since they had come into possession of their ponies, Joe and Rob had trained Bluey and Brutus in such a manner that they scarcely ever failed to secure any game they hunted.
The rabbit is a very swift creature, and has a fashion, when pursued, of suddenly doubling on his own tracks. Being so much smaller than a hound, he can perform the feat a great deal quicker than a dog, and if the latter is not trained to know just what to do under such circumstances, and just how to run, the rabbit almost invariably slips away from him. Bluey and Brutus were taught not to keep close to each other when on the run after rabbits. One of them, generally the younger, when they first started out for a hunt, remained far enough away from his mate to make the turn when the rabbit did, without forging ahead of him, as the foremost hound was sure to do, by the sheer momentum of his rapid running. Then, the hound inthe rear had plenty of room and time to make the turn as soon as the rabbit, and was right upon him, as close as was the head dog when he doubled on his tracks. Then the old dog would recover himself and take his place behind the one that was now ahead, ready for the same tactics whenever the rabbit made another attempt to escape by again doubling on himself. So the race was conducted until the rabbit was caught. That was effected by the dog which happened to be ahead when he came near enough to thrust his long nose under the animal's belly and toss him high in the air, catching him in his mouth as he came down.
"Admirable!" said Mr. Tucker, as Bluey, who happened to be ahead, tossed the rabbit up and caught him as he fell toward the ground. "I tell you, boys, that's as fine a piece of work as I ever saw done by any hounds I have run with. You must have taken a great deal of pains to teach them to do their work so splendidly?"
"It took a long time," said Rob, who had really given more attention to training Bluey and Brutus, than had Joe, who had spent more of his spare hours in the camp of the Pawnees. "Isometimes almost gave up, they were so stupid when I first tried to teach them, but by degrees they understood what I wanted, and now I will put them against any hounds in the settlement for doing good work."
"I must admit," said Joe, "that all they can do is to the credit of Rob; he has more patience with animals than I have, though you know, Mr. Tucker, that I am never cruel. I know that you can accomplish more with a dumb brute by kindness than you can with a whip."
By noon the hounds had caught ten rabbits—six cottontails and four jacks—and, of course, were played out when the party turned back on the trail to Errolstrath. Here they found dinner waiting for them, and they all ate heartily, the delightful exercise having made them as ravenous as coyotes. The hounds were not forgotten; they had a rabbit each for their dinner, after eating which, they went to their accustomed beds on the shady side of a haystack near the corral, and slept all the rest of the afternoon.
Mr. Tucker left for his ranche about an hour after dinner, promising to come to visit the family again soon.
The family were worried about the impending Indian war, and when three o'clock had arrived his mother sent Joe up to Fort Harker to find out if there was any news of Custer and the troops under his command, who had gone after the Kiowas.
INDIAN RAIDS—KATE IS MISSING—"BUFFALO BILL'S" OPINION—"BUFFALO BILL" FINDS HER LITTLE BASKET—THE SOLDIERS RETURN TO THE FORT WITHOUT FINDING HER—GRIEF OF THE FAMILY
Itwas after dark when Joe returned from his mission to Fort Harker. He had been very kindly received by the officers, who had heard all about him from Colonel Keogh. The commanding officer told him that he wanted him to warn the settlers on the Oxhide that the war had really commenced; that General Sully had had a great fight on the Arkansas, and that it could not be considered as a victory. He told him also to tell the people on the creek that at any moment they might be visited by a hostile band, notwithstanding that they were in such close proximity to the post.
"You know yourself, my man, that the Indians have a faculty of going anywhere they want to go, and all the troops in the army might befooled in regard to their movements. They are here to-day, murdering, and taking young girls captive, and a hundred miles away to-morrow.
"Tell the settlers," continued he, "that they must be on the lookout. I have not enough troops to put on guard on every creek. I wish I had; then there would be no danger of any sudden and unexpected raids. Why, do you know, Joe, that only yesterday, a band of Dog-soldiers made an attack on Wilson Creek, sixteen miles from here, and killed two men who were at work in their hayfield?
"It was reported to me about three hours after the affair had occurred, and I sent a company up there, but as they were only infantry,—I have no cavalry now at the post,—the Indians were soon out of reach.
"I want you to tell the settlers on the Oxhide to particularly watch their girls. The Indians will get some of them if they possibly can. They don't always murder them, but hold them in a terrible slavery in hopes of getting a heavy money ransom from the Government for their release."
Joe related to his parents all the conversationhe had with the officers at Fort Harker, and early the next morning he and his father rode through the settlement, warning the people to be on their guard.
Only ten days afterward, when the family at Errolstrath were just going to sit down to supper, it was discovered that Kate was missing. Gertrude went up to her room, supposing she might be reading there, for she was a great devourer of books, but she did not find her.
The boys hunted for her in all imaginable places on the ranche where they thought she might possibly be, but could not find her. When Joe and Rob returned from their fruitless quest, the family were too thoroughly frightened to think of eating. Mr. Thompson mounted his horse and started to make the rounds of the nearest neighbors to learn whether she was visiting any of them.
He returned to the ranche long after dark, but brought no news of her whereabouts, and found every member of the family in tears, and his wife nearly crazy. He was told that Kate's pony had come home, riderless, to the corral while he was absent, and a small sumac bush to which hisreins were tied, had been torn up by the roots and was dragging at his feet. None of them could conjecture where she could be.
"My God!" exclaimed her mother, "if the Indians have captured her and carried her off, what shall we do?"
"Something must be done at once," said Mr. Thompson. "Joe, get your pony quickly, and we will hurry to the fort to learn whether any Indians have been seen or heard of in this vicinity to-day. If so, we will get the commanding officer to send out a squad of soldiers immediately. You must go with them, Joe, and trail the savages if you can find any signs of them."
Joe and his father rode as rapidly to Fort Harker as their animals could carry them; went to the commanding officer's private quarters, as the business offices were closed after night, and reported to him the terrible anguish which the family were suffering.
They immediately adjourned to the Adjutant's office, and the commander sent his orderly for the officer of the day. When he made his appearance, he asked him whether any reports had been received concerning Indians being in the vicinity.He replied that no such report had been received by him, and it was his belief that none of the hostile savages were in the immediate country.
At that moment, Buffalo Bill entered the room. He was chief of scouts at Fort Harker, and had just returned from some perilous mission to one of the military posts on the Arkansas, and was coming from the stable, to report to the Adjutant. He was told of the mysterious disappearance of Mr. Thompson's daughter Kate, and the opinion of the famous Indian fighter and courier was asked as to what he thought of the matter, as no Indians had been reported in the vicinity.
"Well," said Bill, "because you gentlemen have received no report of the savages, it does not follow that none have been here.I know that they have been here, and to-day.As I crossed Bluff Creek on my way here this afternoon, about six o'clock, I saw in the distance a band of Indians, numbering about ten or twelve, riding rapidly south. I hid myself in a ravine so that they should not discover me, but I got a good look at 'em with my field-glass. I think they were Comanches, though I can't be certain of that; they might have been Cheyennes or Kiowas;they were too far off to be made out exactly. Now, you ask for my opinion as to what has become of the gentleman's daughter. I believe those Indians have her; because they were riding so fast toward their villages, and they are, you know, all south of the Canadian.
"But don't let Mr. Thompson worry too much; the simple fact that she is a prisoner among them is bad enough. If among the Kiowas, and the chief, Kicking Bird, is in the village when the band arrives with the girl, he will not allow her to be harmed. He is a cunning old fellow, and knows the value of money. He will have good care taken of her, and get a heavy reward from the Government for ransom. If she should fall into the village of Sa-tan-ta, God help her! He is the worst demon on the trail; but anyhow, I don't think they will harm her, as they will want a ransom."
"Well," said the officer, "I am sorry that I have no cavalry at the post, but I will send a detachment of the infantry after them in six-mule wagons. I imagine it will be a useless task to try to catch up with them if, as Buffalo Bill says, they were going as fast as they couldto their village on the Canadian. Lieutenant Hale," said he, turning to the Adjutant, "make a detail at once of thirty men, and send them out under a couple of non-commissioned officers on the trail of the savages, if it can be found. Anyhow, some sign may be discovered that will tell us whether the girl is with them."
Then turning to Joe, he said: "I wish that you would go with the detachment, for you are the best trailer in the whole country, not excepting our chief scout here, Buffalo Bill, and he's the prince of all frontiersmen."
"Well," said Buffalo Bill, "I've just come off a pretty hard trip, but I volunteer to go with the party; if I can do anything in a case of this kind, fatigue doesn't count."
"Thank you, Bill," said Mr. Thompson. "I will return to Errolstrath and tell my family what has been done, and your favorable opinion that the savages won't harm her: that will be a comfort at least. Good night, gentlemen," said he; and he went out and untied his horse from the hitching-post, and rode slowly home.
The night was quite dark, though there was a little moonlight, but the detachment did not getaway from the post until long after midnight, as there was so much delay in hitching up the teams and turning out the soldiers who had gone to bed. By the time the little train of three wagons arrived at Bluff Creek, where Buffalo Bill had seen the Indians, the day was just breaking. They could not travel to that point from the fort very rapidly on account of the rough nature of the trail. It was nothing but a series of rocky hills after they had crossed the Smoky Hill, and was constantly becoming rougher as they approached Bluff Creek, which was well named on account of its high bluffs.
The party halted at the ford where they supposed the savages had crossed, and began to look for Indian signs. Pony tracks were plainly visible in the soft earth where the trail led down to the water, and Buffalo Bill dismounted and examined them carefully. He then asked Joe to get off his horse and count the hoof-marks. Joe did so, and both he and the famous scout agreed that there must have been about a dozen of the savages.
Crossing the creek, followed by the wagons, Joe and he ascended the hill on the other side.They had not proceeded a quarter of a mile when Buffalo Bill picked up from the trail a small par-flèche basket, which Joe immediately recognized as belonging to his sister.
"Look here, Mr. Cody, there is her name which I carved myself when I gave it to her. Now we know for a fact that the savages have captured her. I know why Ginger came home with that little sumac bush fastened to his bridle. Kate must have tied him to it, and when the Indians swooped down on her, the pony broke loose and tore up the little tree by the roots in his fright, for he was always scared out of his wits at the sight of an Indian."
The little detachment of soldiers rode on for a dozen more miles, when the mules showed unmistakable signs of fatigue. They could not be made to travel faster than a walk, notwithstanding the persuasive efforts of the blacksnake-whips in the hands of their drivers. So both Buffalo Bill and Joe reluctantly decided that it was no use to follow the Indians any farther. They knew the habits of the savages so well, that they were now probably a hundred miles ahead of them, for they always took loose stockalong with them so as to change animals when their own horses became leg-weary.
Very reluctantly, then, the cavalcade was turned round and headed for the fort, where the party arrived at about one o'clock. Buffalo Bill, as chief of scouts, reported the result of the trip to the commanding officer.
All were depressed at the failure of the expedition, but it was impossible that it should have turned out differently, and when Joe arrived at Errolstrath and related the story of the finding of Kate's basket, the grief of the family knew no bounds. All felt keen anguish at the absence of their favorite, and at her sad fate.
There was nothing to be done except to wait patiently for some action on the part of the Government in ransoming her if she was alive. The family settled themselves into a calm resignation, but the sun did not seem to shine so brightly, nor the birds to sing so sweetly as when the pet of the household was there. Even her antelope appeared to partake of the general gloom; it evidently missed its loving young mistress, and would wander around the house, disconsolately seeking her.
HOW KATE WAS CAPTURED BY THE INDIANS—THE BAND RIDE RAPIDLY SOUTHWARD—AT THE INDIAN VILLAGE—HER DETERMINATION TO ESCAPE—TEACHES THE SQUAWS—IS TREATED KINDLY
Immediatelyafter dinner on the day that Kate was missed, she bethought herself that the raspberries might be ripe. She wanted to surprise her mother and sister, but as will be seen, was surprised in such a manner that she never forgot it as long as she lived.
Without saying a word to her mother or Gertrude, she took out of her room a little basket made of par-flèche,[1]given to Joe by the Pawnees, and by him presented to her. She went out to the pasture, caught her pony, Ginger, saddled him, and rode out to the fatal raspberry patch where once she had such a terrible encounter with a she-wolf.
It was a fortunate thing that both the girls had learned to ride, for a sad fate would have been in store for her had she not been a thorough horsewoman.
Arriving there in less than half an hour, she tied Ginger to a sumac bush, and to her delight found that the berries were quite ripe, and was soon absorbed in the task of filling her basket. Suddenly, with the rush of a tornado, and uttering the most diabolical yells, a dozen Comanches, dressed up in their war paint and eagle feathers, swooped down on the unsuspecting girl as a hawk swoops down on a chicken. Before she realized where she was, one of the red devils, leaning over from his pony, caught her by the arms and tossed her in front of his saddle, and in another instant the whole band was dashing away southward as fast as their little animals could be urged.
Of course, she fainted for a moment, but strangely held on to her basket. When she had recovered from her first shock, the Indians endeavored to make her understand by signs that they were not going to hurt her. In fact, they treated her with a sort of savage kindness. Thegreat feather-bedecked brute made her as comfortable as he could in front of him, as he pounded the pony's flanks with his moccasined heels to urge it on as fast as possible.
They rode rapidly on, staying for nothing, crossed Bluff Creek, and reached the Arkansas River that night. They waited there for an hour to allow their ponies to graze, and themselves to eat and smoke. They rode on again until daylight the next morning, when the sand hills of the Beaver came in sight. There they halted for breakfast, and shared with the now relatively calm girl their dried buffalo meat, and bread made of ground-roots.
That evening they arrived at their village on the Canadian, more than two hundred and fifty miles from the Oxhide. Kate was turned over to the squaws, who treated her with the kindness innate in all women, because she was only a little girl. Had she been a young woman, that monster Jealousy, which makes his home even in the rude tepee of the savage, would have made her lot entirely different.
She was allotted to the lodge of an old squaw, the old chief White Wolf's fifth wife, whose dutywas to guard her and see that she did not attempt to escape. The savages, as Buffalo Bill had suggested, simply wanted to keep her until the Government should offer a ransom for the little captive, so it behooved them not to abuse her.
As the days rolled on in their weary length, the white captive became more reconciled to her fate. She had never given up the hope that the officers at Fort Harker would soon send out the troops to seek her, and that she would be restored to her dear Errolstrath home and her parents. At the same time, as she was a most excellent horsewoman, she always thought that if the worst came to the worst, she would make her escape and again ride the long distance she had ridden in coming to the village.
When she had regained her self-control on her dreadful journey, she had looked around her and had taken such observations as she could of the lay of the country, the timber, and the general aspect of the trail. Even then, in all the terrible excitement of her capture, she thought of escaping at the first opportunity that offered itself. She indelibly imprinted every tree, rock, and fordon her mind, so that the long ride over the trail to the village was like a photograph on her brain to be taken out of its storehouse whenever required.
In a very few days she had so ingratiated herself in the good opinion of the women of the village, that they really took a fancy to her. She willingly helped them in all the daily tasks heaped upon them by their hard masters. She learned readily how to tan the different furs which were brought into the place after a hunt, made moccasins, herded the ponies in her turn, and even became such an adept in cooking that she was soon permanently assigned as cook for the occupants of the tepee in which she was lodged. Then she was spared the dirtier and harder labor which fell to the lot of the Indian women, for she had been brought up by her excellent mother to perform all kinds of work in which a white woman is supposed to become proficient, and now it served her in a way that was never dreamed of.
The Indians occasionally had flour, but knew of but one way to prepare it. They made a kind of gruel, by boiling, and adding a little salt. Amost unpalatable dish! She made bread and biscuit, which she baked in the most primitive way, on a piece of thin iron before the coals of the camp-fire; but then the food was so different from that to which the savages had been accustomed, that no one was permitted to prepare the meals for the lodge where she made her abode, but the White Fawn, as they began to call her.
Like Constantinople, every village is overrun with dogs, and they are the most vigilant guards that can be imagined. No one may hope to approach an Indian lodge, or a group of them, without being saluted by a chorus of the most unearthly barking and howling from the canine cataract that is sure to pour out the moment a strange footstep is heard. Kate, always a lover of pets, immediately began to cultivate the friendship of the dogs of the village. There was, however, something more in her method than mere natural affection for the brute creation; she had an object in view. She knew that when the time arrived for her to attempt to escape, the dogs must be thoroughly attached to her, so that they would regard any movement she might make without the slightest suspicion. This shesoon effected, and in a short time every miserable cur in the village was her faithful ally.
The intense interest which she took in the herd of ponies may be imagined, for in one of them, at some time in the near future, was concentrated her hope of escaping from the hateful village. She had noticed a little roan pony which seemed to her to possess that power of endurance that would be so necessary when she started on her long and lonely journey to the beloved Oxhide. She knew that he was the swiftest animal of the hundred or more in the bunch, for she had watched him often when the dusky warrior who owned him rode away on the hunt. She had read in some favorite magazine at the ranche, that in the old tales of English minstrelsy, the roan horse was the favorite color of the heroes of those stories, and she selected that animal out of the herd to carry her away. So, whenever she could, surreptitiously, she petted him, and he became so attached to her that he would follow her like a dog.
The savages watched her very closely, and she dared not think of leaving the village for many long weeks. At last she appeared to be sopleased with her new associations that their vigilance relaxed somewhat, and their eyes were not always upon her.
She very rapidly learned the language of her captors, and then, as she could talk to the women, who were really kind to her, her isolation did not seem so hard to bear.
The principal food of the savages was dried buffalo meat, and, as it would keep sweet for a long time and was very nourishing, she hid portions of her rations in the hollow of an old elm that stood near her tepee, for use on the trip when the time arrived for her to run away.
The clothes which Kate wore when she was stolen soon began to show the hard service to which they had been subjected, and finally she had to resort to the blanket for a general wrap like her female associates. She had patched her civilized dress until it was like Joseph's coat, of many colors, but she tenaciously clung to it, determining that she would wear it home, if she was fortunate enough ever to return. So she took it off and carefully stored it with her buffalo meat in the hollow of the old elm.
She soon became aware that the savages were at war with the whites, for often when the warriors went away dressed up in their feathers and hideous paint, they came back with their ranks decimated, and then there was wailing and howling in the village.
She knew, also, that General Custer, whom the Indians called the Crawling Panther, was gradually outwitting them, for she heard the sobriquet they had given him often mentioned in their talks around the camp-fires.
FOOTNOTE:[1]Par-flèche is the tanned hide of the buffalo, without the hair. The Indians make baskets and boxes of it in which to pack their provisions and other articles when they move their villages.
[1]Par-flèche is the tanned hide of the buffalo, without the hair. The Indians make baskets and boxes of it in which to pack their provisions and other articles when they move their villages.
[1]Par-flèche is the tanned hide of the buffalo, without the hair. The Indians make baskets and boxes of it in which to pack their provisions and other articles when they move their villages.
THANKSGIVING DAY AT ERROLSTRATH—KATE'S RETURN—CUSTER'S BATTLE WITH "BLACK KETTLE"—KATE TELLS HER STORY—THE ORIGIN OF INDIAN CORN—A WOLF HUNT WITH GENERAL CUSTER—A WOLF STORY BY THE COLONEL
Fivemonths had made their sad passage at Errolstrath ranche since Kate was carried off by the Indians. It was now November, and Thanksgiving, that day so sacred to every New Englander's heart, was rapidly approaching; it lacked but one week of its advent. Notwithstanding the sadness which still hovered over Errolstrath, the great healer, Time, had poured balm into the wounded hearts. There still remained the tender remembrance of the light which the absent one always brought into the house, and the parents still strove to fulfil their obligations to those who were left to them, so Thanksgiving was kept as it had been ever since the settlement of the family on the ranche.
The mince pies had been baked, the cider bottled, and all that was lacking to make up the complement of the great dinner was a turkey. As, however, the woods were full of them around Errolstrath, no uneasiness was felt in regard to the presence of the magnificent bird when he was wanted.
Joe, upon whom the family depended to keep the larder well supplied with game, intended to go and kill a wild turkey the next day. Thanksgiving came the second day following on the twenty-fifth, so there was ample time to procure the principal dish for the coming event.
Joe had long since ceased to hunt for mere amusement. He had become a veritable pot-hunter, not in the general sense in which the word is used, that is, a man who only kills his game on the ground, but he hunted only when the family needed a change of diet, and desired some kind of game.
It was Rob's duty that month to bring the cows home and milk them, a duty at which the boys took turn and turn about each month. That evening he was returning home with hischarge, and was riding, as usual, one of the buffalo ponies. As he was going along the bank of the Oxhide, in the long grass which grew in some places higher than a man's head, his animal suddenly stumbled with both feet, into a prairie dog's hole, and Rob was incontinently thrown over his head, falling into the long grass without receiving any injury. As he started to his feet again, he felt something struggling in his hands, for he had involuntarily clutched at the ground when the pony so unceremoniously tumbled him off, and to his great surprise, he discovered that he had accidentally caught a large wild turkey! He held on to the bird manfully, although it tried its hardest to get away from him; and holding it by the legs, he walked on to the corral and drove the cows in. Then, still leading his pony, he arrived at the house, and called his mother and Gertrude out, exclaiming:—
"I've got the turkey for Thanksgiving, and I didn't have to shoot it, either!"
Joe, hearing the noise, came down from his room, and learning what had caused the racket, said:—
"By jolly, Rob, you are a lucky dog; but if any one read of the way you caught it, they wouldn't believe it. I never heard of such a thing before. I sha'n't have to hunt one to-morrow now, and I'm glad of it, for I want to go to the fort to try to find out how the Indian war is coming on."
"Well, Joe," said his mother, "as you needn't shoot one now, suppose you kill and pick it while Rob is milking, then hang it up somewhere so that the lynxes can't get it, and in the morning Gertie and I will get it ready for the oven."
Joe then took it from Rob, who was still holding the struggling creature by the legs, and taking it to the woodpile, he chopped off its head, then he picked it, and hung it up in the smoke-house as the safest place until his mother was ready for it in the morning.
Thanksgiving day opened clear and cool, but not at all cold, for November in Kansas is one of the most delightful months in the whole year. The Indian summer is then at its height, and the amber mist hangs in light clouds on every hill, giving to all objects a smoky hue. This mistrests particularly on the bluffs bordering that stream to which General John C. Fremont gave the name of "The Smoky Hill Fork of the Republican." He first saw it in the late autumn of 1843, when on his exploring expedition to the Rocky Mountains, and it is into that river that the Oxhide empties itself only a short distance from Errolstrath ranche.
It was intended to have dinner served promptly at noon, and Mrs. Thompson had so announced to her husband and children, who were all anxious for twelve o'clock to strike.
About ten, while she and Gertrude were busy in the kitchen, the boys out in the yard, and Mr. Thompson in the timber, marking some trees he planned to cut down, there rode up to the front porch a strange-looking figure on a roan pony which was evidently nearly blown in consequence of the pace at which it had been driven.
The strange object was seemingly a girl, but she was one mass of rags over which was thrown a red blanket, Indian fashion. Her hair was unkempt, and she sat crossways on her animal, like a savage.
Mrs. Thompson, hearing the sound of a horse'shoofs on the buffalo sod in front of the house, went out with her dish-cloth in her hand to see who the intruder might be. Looking at her, she at first thought one of the Pawnee boys had come for Joe, but when she heard in a sad and apparently disappointed tone a voice which she could never have forgotten: "My heavens! mamma, don't you know me?" she recognized it as that of her lost daughter Kate. The cloth dropped from her hand, and she fell prone upon the porch, overcome by the shock.
Just as Gertrude, who had heard her mother's smothered groan, ran out with a tin dipper of water to dash into her face, Kate dismounted, and rushing to where her mother was lying, she threw her arms around her neck and began to sob violently.
It was then that Gertrude, for the first time, saw her sister Kate, and she, too, immediately fell upon her lovingly, and for some moments there was weeping, laughing, kissing, and hugging. The boys, in the back part of the house, and their father in the stable, hearing the voices, hurried to the veranda, and in another second all were kissing and hugging the ragged girl,each one trying to outvie the other in their joy at the return of the pet of the household.
They fairly dragged Kate into the sitting-room, where, for a few minutes, they looked at her in a dazed sort of way. Her mother was the first to come to her senses.
"The first thing to do," she said, "is to get some decent clothes on the child; then as soon as Mr. Tucker comes we will have dinner. Oh! my, what a Thanksgiving it will be!"
Kate was soon made comfortable in clean linen, and a dress of her sister's, for she had outgrown all that were of her own wardrobe five months before.
At this moment Mr. Tucker rode up to the door, and allowing Rob to take his horse to the stable, the old man walked into the house. He was the only invited guest on the Thanksgivings at Errolstrath. All his family were long since dead, and he was alone in the world; besides, being a New Englander, he had not forgotten how to appreciate the most important festival of Yankee Land.
He was wonderfully taken aback when he saw that Kate had returned, and he congratulated herwith his eyes full of tears; for he was a man with a warm heart, though his early life in the days of the old trappers had given him a rough looking exterior.
Kate looked like the dear Kate of old, as all sat down to a real Thanksgiving dinner. She was much browner than when she left Errolstrath, because of her constant outdoor life in the Indian village.
"Oh! Kate," said her mother, as the happy girl took her accustomed place at the table, between her father and Gertrude, "how earnestly I have prayed that you might be restored to us; I felt at times almost in despair, but the thought of the good God's promises to the patient, cheered me up, and I knew that in His own time my prayer would be answered. What a different Thanksgiving this is from what we all have expected, when we thought of Kate's vacant chair! Only think, we have never yet been separated on this blessed day during all the years we have lived at Errolstrath! But we little thought that we should be together to-day."
"We have much to be thankful for," said Mr.Thompson; "excellent crops, good luck with our stock, and to cap the climax, our beloved Kate is restored to us."
The Thanksgiving dinners at Errolstrath were composed of those conventional dishes which make up the celebration of the festival in New England, and the one at Errolstrath that day was perfect in its resemblance to those of the old homestead in Vermont.
While they were discussing the good things on the table, Kate was told how Rob had got the turkey for the dinner, and also how matters had progressed at the ranche during her absence, for she was very anxious to know. Her father said that he had raised the largest crop of corn since he had been on the creek; that the wolves had carried off two calves from Errolstrath, but that many of the neighbors had suffered a great deal more from their depredations, and that a grand wolf hunt was contemplated by the whole neighborhood, for something had to be done to thin out the ravenous creatures. Gertrude told how many chickens she had, but Joe gave them all the best news they had heard for a long time.
"I was over at Fort Harker yesterday," he said, "and I heard that General Custer had attacked the camp of Black Kettle, the Cheyenne chief, on the Washita in the Indian Territory, and completely wiped them out. The war is ended, and the savages are suing for a peace which General Sheridan says they will be sure to keep this time. The commanding officer told me that Custer would soon arrive at the fort, and that the settlers need have little more fear; that they may go anywhere now without expecting to lose their hair. He said that Sheridan had been promoted to the rank of lieutenant-general for the brilliant success of his winter campaign, and that he would shortly be at Fort Harker on his way to Washington."
"Well, that is glorious news," said Mr. Tucker. "No more stealing pretty little girls from their homes, eh?"
When Joe had finished his joyous piece of intelligence, the family adjourned to the big sitting-room, and Kate was asked to tell the wonderful story of her capture and escape. She seated herself in her favorite chair, an old Boston rocker, brought from Vermont and nicely cushionedat the back, and was making ready to begin, when her mother said:—
"What in the world, Kate, possessed you to go away from the house that day and to tell none of us where you intended to go?"
"Why," answered Kate, "I remembered that you were very fond of raspberries, and I thought that, as they must be ripe, I would saddle Ginger and go up to the patch to get some, for I wanted to surprise you. I took my little Indian basket—"