CHAPTER III.
A NARROW ESCAPE.
The boy rushed forward and asked what had happened.
The small, rough living-room in the sheriff's shack was soon crowdedwith men who pressed forward eager to hear the story.
When Mr. Worth was rested somewhat and thoroughly warmed through, hebegan:
"After leaving home, I travelled for two days and nothing happened.There were plenty of Indian signs about, marks of moccasined feet andprints of unshod horses' hoofs."
"Where were you bound?" asked some one.
"Up the river near Fort Stevenson. Got a coal mine up there, you know,"the narrator answered. "Well, I kept a pretty sharp lookout forhostiles--and all the Indians are hostile around Fort Stevenson--but upto the time I'm going to tell you about I didn't see any. I followed theold trails made by the buffalo and deer across the prairie, and did mybest to cover up my own tracks--wore moccasins till the cacti cut 'emtoo much, then shifted to boots. Of course boots made a much clearerprint and would give me away sure if they were seen."
"Why?" whispered Tenderfoot Green to Casino.
"Because, you chump," retorted Casino, "the Indians never wear boots, sothey know right away when they see marks of heel and sole that a whiteman has been that way. See?"
Worth continued, without noticing this whispered colloquy: "I wasgetting nearer and nearer the river every minute, and I knew that when Igot there my chances of getting through all right would be better, forthe brush and banks would afford the cover that the prairie lacked."
His hearers nodded their heads understandingly, and even TenderfootGreen seemed to take in the situation.
"The wind was getting pretty keen, and I was afraid it would snow; if itdid, I knew my trail would be as plain as a column of smoke in a clearsky, so I hustled for the river at a good pace. In spite of my hurry,though, I managed to keep a sharp lookout for Indians. As I topped everyrise I took a good survey of everything in view, and it was well I did,for about dusk I reached the crest of a low hill, and on glancing oversaw an Indian village. It lay directly in my path, not far from theriver. It was still too light to attempt to go round it, so I lay downbehind some sage brush and watched what was going on. The village, whichcontained about fifty tepees, was placed within easy distance of theriver and was well supplied with cottonwood."
"Used the cottonwood for fuel, I suppose?" broke in Green.
"Yes, and the green bark to feed the horses on in heavy snowy weather,"volunteered Mackenzie.
"Excuse me, Mr. Worth," apologized Tenderfoot, "I didn't mean tointerrupt."
"That's all right," said Worth. "A lot of squaws were busy doing men'swork, as is the way of the poor things, scraping hides that were stakedon the ground, mending buffalo-skin tepees, pounding berries, carryingwood and water. Some were busy with easier jobs, such as making deerskinclothes and ornamenting moccasins with beads. I could see only a fewbucks; the others were probably off on a hunt. There was danger inthat, for if they found my trail on their way back to camp they would ofcourse follow it, and then--well, I should be lucky to come out of italive."
The listening men began to show signs of impatience. All this was an oldstory to them; they wanted to hear the end of the tale, and how he cameto be in such a plight.
"Well, to make a long story short," said Worth, beginning to realizethat he was telling much that was obvious to most of his hearers, "whileI lay there, planning and idly watching the Indian camp, the huntingparty was actually returning. Suddenly I felt the weight of a man on myback. I struggled and fought, and finally threw him off. Jumping to myfeet, I faced two savages who had come in advance of the main party andhad stolen on me unawares. Both now rushed at me, but I dodged one andtripped the other. Before I could finish the man I had thrown, the firstwas at me again. Loaded as I was by my pack, I was soon fagged. My gunhad been taken by the redskin when he fell on me. Why he didn't use iton me I cannot understand--perhaps I didn't give him time. Now both ofthem jumped for me, and try as I might I could not dodge or disablethem. I had already begun to fear that the game was up, when I saw awhole bunch of Indians, the rest of the hunting party, coming along thetrail.
"There wasn't any use fighting a mob like that, so I stopped struggling,let my captors hold me, and waited for whatever might come.
"The redskins crowded around me, and I thought that my time had come.
"'Stev'son, you come in,' says one brave. 'Hoss, pony, you got 'em?'calls out another big scowling savage. I shook my head.
"Then I caught sight of a face I knew--old Chief Looking Glass. (Iwarmed him up with coffee once when he was near frozen to death. Indianswill do most anything for a cup of coffee.) He pushed forward throughthe crowd and shook hands with me. I could see he was trying to get hismen to separate and leave us, but it wasn't any sort of use; theypressed around, and it was very evident that they wanted my pack.Looking Glass finally started alone towards the camp, calling to hisbraves to come along, but this plan didn't work at all; for the minutehe got out of sight over the brow of the hill the thieving gang began tostrip me. There was no use resisting; they were too many for me. BeforeI knew where I was I was stark naked, except for a few rags. Even myboots were yanked off. We were almost in the village by this time, forI had been pulled and pushed over the crest and down the slope of thehill. My tormentors then left me and began to divide my outfit, so Icrawled off, shivering and sore, anxious to get out of sight as soon aspossible."
"Wasn't it cold?" said Tenderfoot Green.
"Rather," said Mr. Worth, a grim smile showing on his weather-beatenface. "A man does not go tramping across the bare prairie in weatherlike this dressed in a few rags, bare-footed, and feel as if he was in ahot spring. It was fully as cold as it is now, and this is a prettysharp day." He shivered at the mere remembrance, while his listenersgave a general laugh at the simplicity of the question.
"Where did you get your blanket and moccasins?" asked Green, anxious todivert the crowd's attention.
He pointed at the articles that Worth seemed to be guarding withunnecessary care.
"These here blanket and moccasins saved my life," continued the latter."As I was pushing along I heard a woman's voice calling. I turned andsaw a squaw running after me with a blanket and a pair of moccasins inher hands. 'Looking Glass blanket and moccasins,' she said, as shehanded them to me. Then she turned timidly and ran back to the camp.
"It was almost dark now, and growing colder every minute. I put on themoccasins, wrapped the blanket around me, though it smelled strong ofIndian, and set out at a dog-trot in the direction of a wagon trail. IfI could reach that I might be lucky enough to strike a white man's campor a freighter's outfit, and then I should be all right.
"I travelled all that night, keeping in the right direction by a sort ofinstinct that my knowledge of the lay of the land gave me. It was apretty tough journey though, I can tell you. I had to fight hard to keepoff the sleepy feeling that comes before freezing, and for hour afterhour I dragged myself along numb and aching with the cold, but hopingagainst all reason and probability that I might run across some of theboys before it was too late. Toward daybreak I must have got kinderlonely, for I lost track of things, and only came to myself in thefreighters' camp that I had run into half asleep."
He paused here, and John saw that his eyes were half closed and his headnodding. The ordeal had told on even his sturdy health.
In a thick, sleepy voice he added: "Ask Jim White; he knows the rest--hebrought me in."
Jim White could add little to the story. Worth came into his camp, heexplained, more dead than alive and "clean out of his head." He and hispartner had cared for him and brought him to town as fast as the teamscould go.
John's father was taken over to his own shack, where his wife greetedhim like one come back from the dead. Under her good nursing herecovered from his terrible experience in a marvellously short time andbecame again his own sturdy self. The frontiersman must of necessity bepossessed of an iron constitution, for he mu
st be able to endurehardships of all kinds--intense heat and piercing cold, hunger andthirst, fatigue and pain, that would either kill an ordinary manoutright or cripple him for life.
It was with inward dread that the little family watched its head startoff again, after a few weeks' stay in town. Outwardly, however,cheerfulness, almost indifference, was manifested. This time he wentwith a party which was going in the same direction; the danger was,consequently, not so great. Then, too, the cold weather kept the Indianspretty close to their own camps, and as the locations of these weregenerally known, they could be easily avoided.
* * * * *
The boys' hearts were gladdened by the news that, perhaps, the homeshack would be abandoned in the spring, when their father returned. Ifso, the whole family would "hit the trail" to the north and west.
Up to this time the Worth boys had been town dwellers, though in thesedays Bismarck could hardly be dignified even by the name of village.John and Ben, in common with the few other boys, had enjoyed thecomparatively tame pleasures afforded by the town and the surroundingprairie. All large game had been driven west, and only prairie dogs,gophers, coyotes, and occasionally wolves remained; these and the birdsthe boys used to shoot at day after day with their ever-ready revolvers.The sport in the river was not all that could be wished for either, forthe water was muddy and the bottom was full of quicksands. And if summerlacked diversions, winter was a still more uninteresting season, in thatthe pleasures were fewer and the discomforts greater.
It was therefore with great glee that John and Ben looked forward tothis pilgrimage. A hilly country was to be visited, where game of allsorts abounded, where clear streams were plenty, and where new sports ofall kinds were in prospect. Marvellous tales of trapping beaver, andhunting antelope, bear, and even buffalo, were brought in by hunters, sothe boys were wild to enjoy these new pleasures.
The Government was trying to confine the Indians to the reservationsthat had been set apart for them, but the redskins had been accustomedto roam over the country at will, to follow the game wherever it went,to make war upon each other whenever they felt like it or needed horses;so they resented any attempt to interfere with their entire freedom, andturned fiercely on their white foes wherever they found them, singly orin camps and settlements. The Government, in order to better protect itscitizens, erected at intervals outposts garrisoned by troops.
There being no railroads across the continent at this time, goods of allkinds had to be carried in wagons from the nearest railroad station tothe fort or point of distribution. The supply of fuel, too, was a matterof great importance. It was in the main a treeless country and wood wasscarce. The early prospectors and pioneers had noticed the outcroppingsof coal from the deep-cut river banks, but little advantage was taken ofthis store of fuel till the forts were established and the littlesteamboats began to ply up and down the Missouri loaded deep with skinsand buffalo hides.
Mr. Worth was one of the first to see the value of these coal veins, andhe was a leader in developing the mineral resources of the section. Heopened and worked mines as near the different outposts as possible andat convenient points for the supply of coal to the river boats.
The Eastern railroads were stretching their long steel arms westward,and they also needed to be supplied with food for their furnaces.
Mr. Worth had contracted with these coal consumers to open mines which,when in good running order, were to be turned over to them to work. Inorder to do this it was necessary to travel from place to place,starting the work at intervals along the proposed line so as to be readywhen the "steel trail" actually reached them. It was this contract thatmade it necessary for them to give up the home shack at Bismarck and tojourney into hostile country. Mr. Worth could not return to thesettlement to his family; the family must therefore come to him in thewilds.
Much of the long winter was spent by the boys in talking over the goodtimes they were going to have when they reached the new country. Attimes a trapper would come in to get a stock of supplies, and John andBen listened eagerly to every word he said about his experiences. Thesetales were old stories to most of the men of the little town, who paidno attention to such commonplace matters, but Charley Green, like theboys, was seeking information, and he drank in every word as eagerly asthey.
Much of Green's ignorance had disappeared, though "Tenderfoot" was stillhis nickname, and by that he would be called as long as he lived there.He had changed outwardly as well. The Eastern pallor had given place toa good, healthy, bronzed tint, his eye was clear and his hand steady; hehad lost weight but had gained in endurance. His gay, expensive outfitof clothes had been succeeded by the more sober and serviceable apparelof the plains: wide, heavy felt hat, flannel shirt, rough trousers withprotecting leather overalls or chaps, and high boots. He had learnedenough about Western ways to avoid making many blunders, and took a jokeat his expense good naturedly when he did occasionally betray himself.
It was not considered polite in Bismarck to inquire anything about aman's past--that was his own business. It was not necessary for a man togive his pedigree and family name in order to be received into thesociety of his fellows. It was not his past that concerned them, but hispresent. "Lariat Bill" was quite as good for all practical purposes ashis real name, perhaps better, for it was descriptive and identified himat once. In accordance with this unwritten law, no one asked whatCharley Green's idea was in leaving the civilization and culture ofBoston for the wild, free, albeit rough, life of the plains; but rumorhad it that he came there with the intention of going into ranching. Ifso, he was wise beyond his generation, for unlike most of his fellows helooked before he leaped.
Tenderfoot and the two boys had struck up quite a friendship. It wasquite natural, therefore, knowing as he did the Worths' plans, for himto say one day, towards the end of the winter: "Do you suppose, John,that your dad would take me along on his mining expedition?"
"I dunno," said John, "you'll have to ask the governor when he comesback. I guess he would."
"You see," continued Tenderfoot, "I'm about as tired of this place asyou are, and I want to see a little of the country. I guess I could earnmy salt as a mule-wrangler anyway."
So it was decided that the young Easterner was to go with the Worths ifthe head of the house consented.
The dreary winter was beginning to give way to the soft south winds. Thesnow was fast disappearing and buffalo grass was showing brightly greenhere and there. The boys had an unusually bad attack of spring fever,for the long-looked-for time of the pilgrimage was drawing near.
Their father might be expected any day, and then--their delight andanticipation could not be put into words.
Mr. Worth at length came in, loaded down with his pack, his arms, andhis heavy winter furs.
Keen and bitter disappointment was in store for the impatient boys. Theywere told that it would not be safe to move away from the town, for thewhole country was full of hostile, well-armed, well-fed Sioux.
The Black Hills of southwestern Dakota had been found to contain gold inpaying quantities. This region was considered almost sacred by theIndians and jealously guarded. It was now aggressively penetrated by thebold miners, and this naturally created much bad feeling between themand the original owners. In order to allay this feeling the Governmentmade a treaty with the Indians by which it was agreed that theencroaching miners should be driven out. The disregarding of this treatyor its ineffective enforcement roused the Sioux to open warfare.
The tribes were collecting under the leadership of Sitting Bull andRain-in-the-Face. Several small skirmishes had been fought and numbersof men on both sides had been killed. Small outfits, too, had been wipedout completely by the savage red foe.
It would have been suicidal, therefore, for the Worth family to venturewithin the enemy's country, as had been previously planned.
Indeed, while there was probably little danger of an attack at this timeon Bismarck, the centre of hostilities being many hundred miles to
thewestward, great precautions were taken even there every night to guardagainst surprise, and the people, especially the children, never wentfar afield.
The spring passed and another summer's scorching heat began.Occasionally accounts came in of battles fought and victories won,sometimes by one side, sometimes by the other. It was a time ofuncertainty; business enterprise was at a standstill, and, since therewas little to do in the frontier town, diversion of any kind was hailedwith delight. So the Fourth of July celebration that was to be held atBlack Jack's dance hall was looked forward to with great expectations byold and young.
Custer's command. (_Page 53._)]
Independence Day at length arrived, and was greeted at the first showingof light in the east by a volley of revolver shots. The celebration waskept up with enthusiasm all day. Tenderfoot made a patriotic speech thattook the crowd by storm--he was no tenderfoot in that line, for hiscollege debating society experience served him in good stead.
At sundown the guests began to arrive at Black Jack's, and before anhour had passed the ball was in full swing. It could hardly be called afashionable assemblage: the men, of whom there were three or four toevery woman, were dressed much as usual, spurs and all, except that incompliance with the request placarded prominently, their "guns" werelaid aside.
A single fiddler served for an orchestra, and also acted as master ofceremonies, calling out the figures of the dances.
The violin was squeaking merrily and the feet of the dancers thumped therough boards vigorously, while the lamp lights silhouetted the uncouthfigures as they passed between them and the open window.
John and Ben, who were watching from the outer darkness, were suddenlystartled by hearing the long, deep whistle of the little steamboat.
"What's that?" exclaimed Ben. "Sounds like the _Will o' the Wisp_, butshe hasn't been along the river for a long time."
"Let's go and see," said John. "Must be something doing to bring herdown at this time."
The two boys mounted their horses, which stood already saddled, andgalloped down to the landing. In a few minutes the boat steamed up outof the darkness, slowed down and made fast to a cottonwood stump.
Hardly had it come to a stop when a man made a running leap to theplatform and dashed toward the boys, who were the only persons at theplace.
"Where's all the people?" he cried excitedly. "Let me take that horse aminute, sonny."
"Up at Black Jack's," said John, sliding off Baldy's back without delay,for it was evident that the newcomer brought important news.
The stranger mounted and set off at a hard gallop for Main Street.Reaching the brightly lighted place, he jumped off and stumbled throughthe doorway into the centre of the room.
The fiddler stopped in the middle of a bar, the dancers, who were in thefull swing of "all hands around," stood still in wonder, and every eyewas fixed upon the intruder. He looked like the bearer of bad news.
His clothes showed that he had travelled far and fast, and his mannerevidenced anything but peace of mind. For an instant all was still. ThenBlack Jack broke the silence: "Speak out, man! What's up?"
"I've been travelling two days and nights to bring the news," hepanted. "Custer----" he paused for breath.
"Well, hurry up, will you!" exclaimed Mackenzie, shaking his arm.
"Custer and his party have been wiped out by the Indians on the LittleBig Horn!"