Читать книгу Fur Brigade - Hal G. Evarts - Страница 7

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Occasional scouting parties were sent out from the brigade to penetrate the country well to either flank of the river. One such expedition returned with the news that a large war party of Brule Sioux had headed upriver some two or three days before. The trappers, accustomed to reading Indian signs with great accuracy, estimated that there were probably a thousand warriors in the band. The lack of travois marks and the fact that there were no feminine trinkets along the trail was evidence that it was a war party that had passed, not the removal of a village to some new hunting country. Insignia on discarded bits of equipment and the nature of cast-off moccasins identified the marauders as Brule Sioux. A dog that had accompanied the party but which had strayed and dropped behind on account of sore feet, had been captured. The animal bore a light pack of extra moccasins of Burnt-thigh make; and it was customary for war parties to be accompanied by fleet dogs thus lightly packed with extra equipment. The fact that the war party was heading into Mandan territory and keeping a dozen miles back from the river furnished conclusive evidence that its purpose was to surprise some Mandan village on the Missouri, swooping upon it from the rear while the river would effectively cut off the victims' retreat.

All this the trail revealed to the eyes of the experienced mountain men as unerringly as the city dweller interprets the printed page. Also, being intimately acquainted with Indian nature, the trappers entertained grave fears for the lives of the four hunters. If the Sioux spotted them, which seemed certain in that open prairie country, they would be slain in the belief that the brigade would blame the deed upon the Mandans. Should the four hunters attain to the first Mandan village, they would be in no better shape. The Sioux would surprise the village and cut down every soul in it.

For two nights Ann McKenzie slept but little and by day, as she sat in her father's bateau, her anxious eyes were trained upon the foremost riders of the land contingent. Round noon of the third day after the discovery of the war party's train, the riders in the vanguard came upon the scene of the fight. The fact that the hunters had scalped their slain foes and despoiled them of equipment was evidence that they had beaten off their assailants in this first brush with the Sioux and had effected a retreat upriver; but there was no indication of the ultimate termination of the affair.

A swarm of tiny dark specks was seen swooping down river toward the brigade. These specks resolved themselves into an excited array of Mandans, riding furiously and discharging their muskets in the air. They brought the news that the four hunters had inflicted a crushing defeat upon the Brules and were safe in the Mandan camp.

Mandan scouts, despatched by Hunter for the purpose earlier in the day, had returned with reports which verified his suspicions that a large force of Sioux had invaded the neighborhood. The scouts also reported that the big war party had turned back the day before. Such unaccountable changes of front and the abandonment of well-laid plans on account of some trivial mishap was typical of savage warfare. So doubt Sioux scouts had reported the rapid advance of the brigade and the leaders of the war party had feared that the white trappers would arrive in time to lend their support to the Mandans. It was evident that the attack on the four hunters had been launched by an offshoot band of young bucks, over-eager for scalps, that had remained behind for the purpose.

The Mandans, declaring that the presence of the brigade on the Missouri had saved them from annihilation, proclaimed Hunter the mightiest of all warriors and Little Bull next in order. Huge fires were built and round them gathered the combined personnels of brigade and Mandan village. Hunter was called upon for a recital of his victories.

"I am a mighty warrior," he recited with approved Indian boastfulness. "My enemies tremble in their lodges. My arm is strong. Two year ago I fought the Blackfeet and took many scalps."

He launched into a recital of a hand-to-hand encounter with a big Blackfoot warrior during one of the fights he and Brady had had with marauding parties of that tribe. He related graphically every move in the struggle until, at the end, he split the foeman's crown with his war ax.

"I remember!" Brady shouted at the appropriate point, according to approved Indian custom of corroboration. "I myself was there. I saw the blow struck!"

"Ay-e-e-e!" Dubois interjected some minutes later, as Hunter related the taking of Sauk scalps in his youth. "I remember! I myself saw him wearing Sauk scalps at his belt when he was a mere infant."

"Hol-a-a-a—ee-yah!" Little Bull chanted, as Hunter described the vanquishing of the Brule warrior with his knife the night before. "I remember! His strength was great! I saw the knife fall!"

"I am a great warrior and the Mandans are my brothers," Hunter concluded his oration. "My hand is against all enemies of the Mandans. All such are my enemies also, and I will strike them until my lodge is black with their scalps."

Little Bull then recited his own victories, while his companions corroborated them at appropriate intervals.

The Mandans greeted these speeches with mighty grunts of approval. Preparations had been made for an all-night scalp dance. The fresh scalps, all save one each to dangle at the belts of Breckenridge and Little Bull, were attached to the tip of a pole erected for the purpose. Huge fires were kindled. The night air pulsated with the tee-dum, tee-dum, tee-dum of skin drums, that throbbed in barbaric rhythm, the triumphant chant of half a hundred trappers and double the number of Mandan bucks and squaws as they danced endlessly in a weaving throng.

Breckenridge, as he danced near the outer edge of the shifting crowd after a period of performing on its inner circle, was suddenly seized by the arm and drawn to one side. Hair-that-shines, her blue eyes blazing and her breast heaving tumultuously, addressed him tensely.

"What devil's business are you at now?" she demanded, pointing to the fresh scalp that dangled at his belt. "Do you have to make a savage of yourself?"

"Every man takes scalps," he answered stiffly, bewildered by this unexpected outburst. "You know it. A white man stands that much higher in the estimation of the Indians. It is always done."

The girl knew this. The taking of scalps by mountain men was almost universal, sanctioned by custom, and it was destined to be so sanctioned for more than half a century to come.

"Anyway, if you're expecting to come north to see me, you needn't come dragging gory fresh scalps with you," she flared. As abruptly as she had accosted him she left, disappearing into the night. Hunter returned to the dance but his former enthusiasm waned. It would not return and presently he deserted the revelry and sought his bed. The throbbing of the tom-toms, the shuffling thud of feet and the frenzied chants of the revellers beat against his ears till sunrise. He was at a loss to account for Nepanamo's sudden outburst over so commonplace a thing. Why should she have singled him out from among half a hundred others as the object of her displeasure? The girl herself was no less mystified at her own unpremeditated and impulsive outburst.