Читать книгу Buffalo Bill Among the Sioux; Or, The Fight in the Rapids - Ingraham Prentiss - Страница 11

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Buffalo Bill and Red Cloud lived together, by the side of the stream, for several days. The border king constructed a hut of wattled branches, in which he put the Indian. There he tended him until his injuries were healed.

It was some time, however, before he was able to totter out into the sunlight again.

At nighttime the king of the scouts kept guard over his friend until long after dawn, for he knew that in his weak state the Navaho would easily fall a prey to any prowling animal or marauding enemy.

The scout took his rest during the day, lying by the side of his patient, who could wake him at the least sign of danger.

He was sleeping thus one afternoon, when he was awakened by his shoulder being violently shaken. He opened his eyes and reached for his gun in a moment.

Red Cloud, who was evidently in a state of great excitement, although he repressed outward signs of it with Indian stoicism, pointed to an arrow that was still quivering in the wall of their little shelter above his head.

“The Cave Dwellers! The Cave Dwellers!” he cried, and he pointed toward a clump of trees about fifty yards from their hut.

Glancing thither, Buffalo Bill saw two squat, deformed, misshapen creatures who looked more like big apes than men. They were almost black in color, and their arms and legs were bowed like those of a gorilla. As he watched them they danced to and fro and gave vent to several hideous yells, making the most hideous grimaces at the same time.

Buffalo Bill had heard of these strange creatures before, but he had never imagined they could look so demoniac and inhuman. After a few seconds one of the savages leaped forward, fitted an arrow to the bow which he carried in his left hand, and was about to pull the string.

Before he could do so Buffalo Bill drew a quick bead on him and shot him dead.

The other Indian gave a wail of dismay, looked at his slain companion for a moment in a dazed way, and then promptly took to his heels and fled through the trees. The border king did not attempt to pursue him, for he thought it possible that some other of his comrades might be lurking about, and it would therefore be dangerous to leave his patient.

“It was a lucky shot, brother,” said Red Cloud. “The arrows of the Cave Dwellers are almost always poisoned, and the slightest scratch with one of them is likely to kill a man. If the first arrow they fired had struck me, I should now be roaming the happy hunting grounds of the Great Manitou.”

“Who are they, and why did they attack us?” asked Buffalo Bill, after he had satisfied himself that the savage he had shot was really dead.

“They are the Cave Dwellers,” replied the Indian, “and they attacked us because they have a mortal feud with my tribe, and especially with myself. It is a long story, brother, but it were well that you should know it.”

“Let me get rid of the body first,” remarked Buffalo Bill. “If I leave it here, the coyotes and buzzards will come around pretty soon and trouble us. See! they are beginning to circle already.”

He pointed overhead, where several vultures were circling in whirls that approached constantly nearer to the ground.

With his strong, broad-bladed bowie knife, the scout hollowed out a grave a few feet deep in the loose, sandy earth, and placed the body of the dead savage in it. Over the shoveled-in earth he rolled a number of heavy stones, so that the coyotes would be unable to dig up the body.

Having thus given his slain enemy decent sepulture, the border king returned to the hut and prepared a meal for himself and his patient. As they sat smoking their pipes, after they had finished the repast, he asked Red Cloud for the story of his feud with the Cave Dwellers.

Red Cloud thought a moment, and then began:

“They are the old people, these Cave Dwellers—the oldest people in all this country. They are older than the Moquis, or the Piutes, or the Navahos, or the Apaches. They were here from the beginning of time, but when the other tribes came into the country they were driven to take refuge in great caves far up on the sides of the mountains, where hardly a goat can climb.

“There has always been enmity between them and the other tribes, and though they often dwell for long months up in their caves and do not trouble us, yet the hatchet is never buried. These Cave Dwellers are more like beasts than men, and they are fond of eating the flesh of their enemies, when they can capture them and carry them up the secret paths that lead to their caves.

“But it is not alone in the caves of the mountains that they live. They have also subterranean caverns running far into the bowels of the earth, and they also dwell in tents on the plains at some seasons of the year, when they come out of their caves to hunt and steal the cattle and ponies of the other tribes.”

“And how did you manage to incur their special enmity, Red Cloud?” asked Buffalo Bill.

“Three years ago, my tribe dwelt peacefully in our country, under the strong and good rule of our great chief, Spotted Snake. The neighboring tribes feared and respected us, and we had beaten the Cave Dwellers into submission. We had buried the hatchet with the white man, and we were left alone in our hunting grounds without interference. It was a happy time for the tribe.

“But Spotted Snake died, and his son, Scared Coyote, was a weakling. He ruled over the tribe like a woman, scarcely ever leaving his wigwam, and never risking his skin in the perils of the chase.

“Gradually the tribes which his father had kept so well in check began to encroach upon our territory, and the Cave Dwellers especially caused us great trouble, stealing our ponies and raiding our crops. Scared Coyote never resented this insult, for his heart was as weak as water within him.

“Our main camp was pitched at that time by the side of the Giant Spring.

“Does my brother know it? It is a spring that bubbles up from the earth and makes a big pond, coming from a subterranean river that flows many miles under the ground of the open prairie.”

“Yes, I have seen it,” answered Buffalo Bill.

“Then my brother will be able to understand my story. In those days I was just beginning to win my name as a scout and brave among my tribe, and I was always eager to do some great deed.

“My arm was big with muscle and sinew, and I could shoot an arrow farther than most of the braves; but I was yet counted as a boy by many of them.

“I learned one day that the Cave Dwellers had ridden into our country and established a camp there in great numbers. I crawled to the place by night and listened secretly as they talked around their fire. I learned that they were preparing a great surprise for us. Our tents were to be surrounded by them, and the Navahos would be destroyed forever, so that they could enter into possession of our hunting grounds and no longer be obliged to live in their desolate caves.

“I hastened back to camp with this startling intelligence, and asked to see Scared Coyote, who, as usual, was in his wigwam with his squaws.

“‘Tell the dog of a boy,’ was his message in reply, ‘that the chief will see him to-morrow, because he is too busy now mixing his paints with which he adorns himself.’

“I told the messenger that my mission was most important, and that the fate of the tribe depended on my seeing him.

“I waited over an hour for the reply to the second message, and then Scared Coyote—who was jealous of the prowess I had gained in hunting—sent out another messenger to say that he was a man who did not change his mind. He had said that he would not see me until to-morrow, and therefore he would not see me, whatever I might have to say. With the pride of an ignorant, foolish youth, he added that the word of a great chief was not lightly given and could not be lightly taken back.

“‘Tell Scared Coyote,’ I said, with my heart hot with anger within me, ‘that his word is the word of an infant in swathing clothes. Even a chicken just hatched by his mother hen would have the sense to flee from danger, but he will stay here and die. Then let him die!’

“I turned on my heel and walked to the tents of the other braves, on whom I knew I could depend, and whom I knew were disgusted, like myself, with their young chief.

“I told them what I had learned, and we held a war council.

“We decided that we would shift our tents secretly in the night and leave Scared Coyote alone while he was asleep. Everybody heartily detested him, and therefore the plan was agreed to by all. We threatened to throw the squaws into the Giant Spring if they told the chief of our plans. We resolved to wait our chance of raiding the Cave Dwellers at a convenient season, for they greatly outnumbered us, many of our tribe being away on a distant hunting expedition.

“We struck our tents silently at the dead of night. The stamping of the horses was muffled by tying their feet in the long prairie grass. Any other Indian would have heard us, none the less; but Scared Coyote did not sleep with one eye open, like the rest of his people. He slept the heavy sleep of a prairie dog in his burrow.

“As we rode away over the prairie, and looked back to see the chief’s tent standing alone, we laughed at the thought of how surprised he would be when the sun arose and showed him that his tribe had left him.

“But there was a greater surprise even than this one in store for Scared Coyote. By a wonderful happening, the Cave Dwellers decided to make their attack on us the very same night that we rode away, although when I heard them talking around their fire they were going to postpone it till the following night, in the hope that some of their tribe would join them.

“They had moved down upon our camp in the night at the same time we were moving off in another direction; and when Scared Coyote awoke he found himself surrounded by the dreaded savages.

“One of the Cave Dwellers, whom we took prisoner afterward by a daring feat, of which I shall tell you, informed us that Scared Coyote swooned away like a woman when he saw them.

“How we laughed when we heard of the traitor’s death—for was he not a traitor to skulk in his wigwam with the women instead of looking after the welfare of his tribe?”

Red Cloud looked at Buffalo Bill inquiringly.

“Yes, he was certainly a skulker and a traitor,” the border king agreed. “I do not know that you did right to leave him, but I can understand how enraged you and your fellow braves must have been.”

“The Cave Dwellers, in overwhelming numbers, moved after us, and we were obliged to move farther away,” continued Red Cloud. “At last the braves who had been out hunting joined us, and then our enemies retreated and camped near the Giant Spring.”

“But you have not told me what happened to Scared Coyote,” remarked Buffalo Bill, interrupting the story.

“Oh, they threw him into the Giant Spring, with his paints tied around his neck, for he behaved in so womanly a manner that they got a greater contempt for him than we had, and they would not give him a warrior’s death.

“Though we had abandoned the place which had for so long been our headquarters, we had no idea of giving up the struggle,” Red Cloud continued. “We knew that the Cave Dwellers still greatly outnumbered us, but we nevertheless meant to attack them. At a grand council of war I was chosen chief, in place of Scared Coyote; for, although I was such a young man, I had distinguished myself by saving the tribe from certain annihilation.

“I thought long and hard what I should do, and presently I hit upon a good plan, although it was one fraught with great danger.

“Five hundred yards above the Giant Spring, on the north, there is a great hole covered over with brushwood and prairie grass. A narrow furrow in the ground, also covered by grass and brush, leads to this hole, the furrow extending along the prairie for nearly a mile.

“I thought that we would creep along this furrow and hide in the hole, and then surprise the hostile tribe when they struck their camp and marched northward, as I would contrive they should do by sending some of my men to make a feint of attacking them from that direction.

“I expected that by this ambush I would have them at my mercy, for they would be surprised beyond measure to see us spring up from the ground to attack them practically within the limits of their camp.

“But on reconnoitering the place, after we had crept along the furrow, I met with a great surprise. The hole at the bottom was filled only by a thin crust of earth, which broke when I pushed the end of my bow into it. I found that the hole actually went down into the subterranean river which led to the Giant Spring.

“Instantly a new and better plan occurred to me. Why not drop into the water and be swept along to the spring, and thence emerge into the center of the enemy’s camp, and attack the Cave Dwellers as they slept in their tents? The sentries would not be able to see us, for they were posted on the outskirts of the camp, and we should emerge from the center.

“As we looked down through the hole we could see that the water was surging by with tremendous force, and several of the braves who were with me said that my plan was sheer folly. They thought that any man who dropped through that hole would meet instant death. None of them would agree to the plan, and we returned to our camp.

“The next night I crept back to the place, with one of my best men, and got him to lower me down into the hole by some buffalo thongs tied tightly together and looped under my armpits.

“I was overjoyed to find that the river ran swiftly through a wide, high-vaulted passage. It was almost a cavern, and there was no danger of a man having his head knocked off or being battered to pieces as he was swept along, as the braves had predicted.

“We went back to the camp and told the braves what we had found, and they immediately agreed to follow my lead. I selected thirty of the best among them, and just before dawn we had assembled at the hole again.

“Our plan was to let ourselves drop well into the river, descending to some depth; for we did not know how low the rocks might be at the other end of the passage, where we would have to emerge. It would not do, therefore, to float down on the surface of the river; and this fact made our enterprise ten times more difficult and dangerous than it would otherwise have been.

“We agreed to wait for one another on the sides of the Giant Spring, hidden among the water lilies and other plants that grew there; and then, when all had arrived through the tunnel, we would rise up with a yell and attack our sleeping enemies.

“This yell was to be the signal for the rest of our braves, lurking around the camp, to rush in and help us to utterly annihilate the Cave Dwellers. Finding enemies in their very midst, and thinking themselves surrounded on all sides, I felt sure they would be too demoralized to be able to make any real resistance.

“As I was the chief it naturally fell to me to lead the way. I slipped down the buffalo thongs until I was within eight feet of the water. Then I let go, dropping my hands to my sides, and went down into the river feet first.

“The water was as cold as the snow of the mountains, and it seemed to me that I would never cease going downward into icy depths. The moment after I struck the surface of the stream I felt as if I had been seized by some giant wrestler, in whose hands I was a mere baby.

“My arms were pulled from my sides by the surging, swiftly flowing waters, and it seemed to me as if somebody was pulling my limbs apart with terrible force. I held my breath until I thought I would be obliged to take in some of the water, and at one moment my lungs felt as if they were being torn asunder. There was a loud roaring in my ears, and I thought my head would split open.

“Fortunately, just at the moment when my senses were leaving me, I came up to the surface, and my hands instinctively grasped some reeds. I took a long breath, and looked up, and there were the stars looking down at me from the sky. I had come safely through the tunnel and reached the side of the Giant Spring. As I looked to one side I saw a number of tents, from some of which smoke was ascending.

“I was in the midst of the enemy’s camp, and my position was one of great danger. I kept my head well down among the reeds, and waited impatiently for my comrades. It seemed as if they would never come. I waited for what seemed like an hour, but probably it was only a minute or two, at the most, and then, one after another, I saw heads bobbing up around me, first on one side and then on the other.

“One of the braves, as he came up, gave a loud gasp for breath, and then went down, never to appear again. I regretted his loss, but only one man lost out of thirty in such an enterprise was better than I had ever expected.

“We got together silently on the bank, and then, drawing our tomahawks, rushed upon the silent tents with a mighty war cry. We were instantly answered by loud whoops from our friends on the outskirts of the camp, and in a few moments we had the Cave Dwellers at our mercy.

“We captured several of their chiefs and head men as they were sleeping in their tents, and many others we slew. It was the most complete victory that my tribe has ever achieved, and it reduced the Cave Dwellers to complete submission. A few of them managed to escape and get back to their inaccessible caves, but never again did they make a concerted raid upon our territory.

“Nevertheless, they cherish a bitter animosity against the Navahos, and especially against me. One of the chiefs whom we took prisoner managed to escape, after learning that I was the man who had dealt such a heavy blow to his people. Evidently he told them about it, for two or three times since then a few of the Cave Dwellers have tried their best to take my scalp.

“This attack that you saw, my brother, was not by any means the first one they have made upon me. I guard myself against them as well as I can, but I expect that some day I shall fall a victim to their poisoned arrows or be carried away a prisoner to one of their caves, and there be devoured by them in one of their hideous feasts.”

Red Cloud said these last words calmly, with all the stoical philosophy of an Indian, and then folded his buffalo robe about him and sank into profound thought, gazing into the dying embers of the camp fire.

The young warrior was not a man to worry over even the worst that might happen. The matter was in the hands of the Great Manitou, and when his time came he would die as bravely as he had lived.