CHAPTER XVI.
AN INDIAN FRIEND.
The next few days Jack spent in the camp, going about from lodge tolodge with Hugh, being introduced to his friends, being invited to feastby them, and listening to their speeches and stories, which, of course,he did not understand at all. There was so much that was strange, inthis simple savage life that he did not get tired of watching the peopleand wondering what their different actions meant.
One day Hugh had gone off to the head chief's lodge, and had left Jackalone in front of their home. The sun shone brightly down on the camp,but a cool breeze, laden with the breath of the snow fields far above,swept down from the mountains and made Jack feel chilly. He sat down inthe lee of the lodge, where it was warm and comfortable in the sun.Before he had been there very long a shadow fell across the ground, andhe looked up to see standing near him an Indian boy about his own age.Presently the boy sat down beside him and began to make signs, oftenpointing up toward the mountains, but Jack understood nothing of what hewished to say, and at length the boy seemed to become discouraged, andstopped making signs, and they sat there side by side looking at eachother. Jack saw that he had no braids hanging down on each side of hisface, as all the other children had. His hair seemed to have been cutoff, and now, although it was long and hanging down on his shoulders, itwas not yet long enough to be braided. Instead of being naked, as mostboys of his age in the camp were, this boy wore leggings and a shirt ofbuckskin. He had a pleasant, intelligent face.
After sitting there for a little while, to Jack's great astonishment theboy suddenly said: "How you like it here?"
"Why--why!" stammered Jack, "first class. But what makes you talkEnglish?"
"Oh," said the boy, "I talk English all right. I was raised with whitepeople in Benton. I have been to school four or five years, and I canread and write pretty good. My name's Joe; Bloodman, they call me inPiegan."
"Well," said Jack, "I'm mighty glad to know you; glad to find anybodyhere in the camp that I can talk to besides Hugh and old John Monroe."
"Oh," said Joe, "there's quite a few people in this camp that can talksome English; there'll be more when they've all moved in. There's somewhite men here that have Indian wives, and some of their children cantalk English pretty good, too."
"Yes," said Jack, "Hugh told me about that; but I haven't seen anybodyyet that seemed to be able to talk to me."
"Well," said Joe, "that's a fact. A good many of 'em don't like to talkEnglish, and I'll tell you why; because they're afraid that they'll makemistakes, and then maybe you'd laugh at 'em."
"Great Scott!" said Jack, "there wouldn't be any sense in that. I mightjust as well never try to learn anything about living here in the campfor fear that somebody would laugh at me. But say, ain't it great thatyou can talk English. Do you live here?"
"Yes," said Joe, "I live right here. The man that raised me died lastyear, and his wife went off to the States. She told me she'd take mealong if I wanted to go, but I told her I'd rather stay in this country.So I came back to the camp, and now I live here with my uncle. He's FoxEye, one of the chiefs of the Fat Roaster band. Say," he added, "wheredid you come from?"
Jack told him, and how he had come up from the south with Hugh, at JohnMonroe's invitation, and that he expected to spend a couple of monthswith the tribe.
"Ah," said Joe, "that's good. Pretty soon after we've had the MedicineLodge the people will move out onto the prairie to kill buffalo. Thewomen want new lodge skins, and food will soon be needed. Do you thinkyou'll like it here?"
"Yes, you bet!" said Jack; "it's the bulliest place I've ever been in. Inever get tired of wondering what the people are doing; and why they'redoing it. Say, you could tell me a lot about all these things, couldn'tyou?"
"Maybe so," said Joe; "I know some of the things, but I've been awayfrom the tribe a whole lot, and then I'm only a boy, so I don't knowmuch. The old men are the ones who know things; they could tell you. GetWhite Bull to ask them about all the different ceremonies and thecustoms. Maybe they'd tell him when they wouldn't tell you and me. Doyou like to hunt?" and Jack answered: "You bet I do! I've never donemuch hunting, but I've killed some deer and antelope and elk, and downsouth of here, as we were coming along, I killed a buffalo."
"You've got a good horse," said Joe. "I've seen him. He'll catch thefastest cows. Your lodge will always have plenty of meat."
"Yes," said Jack, "he's a good horse; fast, and good to hunt with."
After a little, Joe asked him: "Ever hunt sheep?"
"No, I never exactly hunted 'em. Just after we crossed the Yellowstone,coming north, three or four sheep pretty nearly came into our camp onemorning, and I killed one there. Those are the only ones I ever saw."
"There are sheep up there," said Joe, pointing to a flat mountain notmany miles away.
"Is that so?" said Jack. "I shouldn't think there'd be any as close tothis camp as that. I should think the Indians'd kill 'em all off."
"Pooh!" said Joe; "these Indians don't hunt in the mountains, they hunton the prairie, they kill buffalo, but they don't go much into themountains, nor into the timber; they're afraid of bears. Lots of bearshere. S'pose you feel like it, some day you and me go up on themountain, maybe kill a sheep."
"Oh, wouldn't I like it," said Jack; "those mountains look so big andgray and rough. I'd just love to get up on 'em and climb round there."
"Well," said Joe, "s'pose to-morrow's a good day, maybe we go up there."
"All right," said Jack, "I'd like nothing better, and I'll speak toHugh about it as soon as he comes back. He's gone off to the headchief's lodge now."
"Yes," said Joe, "I know; they're having a big talk over there. I don'tknow what it's about. I expect maybe it's something about the MedicineLodge. That comes pretty soon now."
"Yes," said Jack, "I heard Hugh say that he thought it would come beforelong. I want to see that too."
"Well," said Joe, "that'll last four days, and then pretty soon afterthat I guess the camp'll move out onto the prairie."
The boys were still talking there when Hugh returned to the lodge, andJack at once spoke to him about what Joe had proposed.
"Why yes," said Hugh, "that's a good thing to do. Likely as not youmight kill a sheep up there, and anyhow, it's a good climb, and it'll doyou good to get up onto the high hills and look out over the prairie. Ican't go with you, myself, because the old man over there wants me tospend the day with him to-morrow, but you and Joe can go, and I guessyou won't get into no mischief. Ever been up there, Joe?"
"Yes, sir," said Joe, "I've been up there a good many times."
"All right," said Hugh; "go along then; but see that you don't get intono trouble. If you see any bears, don't bother with 'em; just let 'em gooff. Go up there and kill a sheep, if you can, and spend the day, buttry and get in before dark."
The next morning the two boys started. Joe rode a little fat, wirypony, without either saddle or bridle, and Jack, as usual, rode Pawnee.The trail up the mountain was narrow, overgrown and winding, so that inmany places it was hard to see where it went, but Jack noticed that allalong it, the twigs of the aspens had been bent and broken by personsriding along it, so that it was not difficult to follow. Every now andthen, however, it left the aspens and passed out through a little parkwhere the grass was long and bent in all directions by the passage ofanimals. Some of these were elk, and Jack saw a bear track or two. Insuch open parks the trail was quite lost, for in passing across suchopen places the Indians no longer follow one behind another in singlefile, but spread out, each horse taking his own way. The mountain sidewas absolutely wild, and looked as if it might shelter any number ofwild animals, but nothing larger than a squirrel was seen, and at lastthey reached the steep, grassy slopes which lay just below the rocks.Here Joe said they must leave the horses, and they picketed them there.
Not many yards above where they stood, the stones, fallen from themountain side, lay piled up steep, and above them rose sharply thevertical cliffs which formed the s
ummits of the mountain. Jack looked upat the rocks and said to Joe: "Do we have to get up on the top there?"
"Yes," said Joe, "that's the place to look for sheep. Pretty good climbup there, ain't it?"
"Yes," said Jack, "it looks a long way, but we've got plenty of time todo it in."
"That's so," said Joe, and they started, Joe leading and Jack followingclose behind, carrying his rifle in his hand. It was hard work climbingup over these steep rocks, some of which were just balanced so that ifone stepped on them near the edge they tipped, making the footinguncertain, and to the white boy, accustomed only to the exercise ofriding, the work was hard. Before long he was quite out of breath, andthe exertion made the perspiration stream down his face, though the daywas not a warm one and a cool breeze blew along the mountain side.
Presently Joe stopped and sat down in the lee of the great mass of rock,saying, as he did so: "Pretty hard work; makes me puff and blow plenty,and you too."
"Yes," said Jack, as he threw himself on the ground, "I haven't muchwind. I'm not used to being as high up in the air as this, and then I'mnot used to going much on foot. Say, Joe," he added, after a pause, "whydo you carry a bow and arrows?" for the only arms Joe carried except aknife in his belt were a bow and arrows, in a case attached to a strapwhich passed over his shoulder.
"Pretty good reason," said Joe; "I ain't got no gun, and this is allI've got to hunt with."
"Well," said Jack, "you must have to get up pretty close to your game tokill 'em with bow and arrow, don't you?"
"Yes," said Joe, "pretty close. Of course buffalo hunting you ride upright close to the cow. Sheep and deer and antelope you have to crawl upas near as you can, and then maybe you have to wait, sometimes a longtime, perhaps half a day. Then maybe the animals come near you, or go tosome place where you can get near them, so you kill 'em. This bow shootspretty strong. I've sent an arrow so deep into a cow that the featherswere wet with the blood, but then I never used a bow much. Some boys inthe tribe can send an arrow pretty nearly through a buffalo. Some of themen, the best hunters, can shoot clear through a buffalo, so that thearrow falls out on the other side. One man in the camp one time killedtwo buffalo with one shot; the arrow went clear through the first one,and stuck in the second so deep that it killed it. Queer, wasn't it?"
"Well, I should say it was," said Jack. "I'd hate to have anybody shootat me with one of those things."
"Yes," said Joe, "a bow shoots pretty strong, and then it don't make anynoise; sometimes you miss a shot with the first arrow, you get a chanceto shoot once or twice or three times more. The animal don't see you orhear you, just keeps on feeding."
After two or three more rests they found themselves on a stone platform,just below the foot of what Joe called the reef, meaning the great wallof rock which rose sheer to the top of the mountain. Here Joe pointedout several trails, winding about among the stones and sometimes passingover them, which he said were sheep trails, and now he warned Jack thatthey must look out carefully, for they might see sheep at almost anytime. They went forward along one of these trails, climbing up prettywell toward the foot of the reef, and keeping a good lookout ahead andbelow them. As they went on, the reef broke away to their left, andJack could see that a narrow and deep valley ran out from the mountainside, with grass and willows along the course of the stream which flowedthrough it. Very slowly and cautiously they proceeded, seeing nothingand hearing no sounds. They had gone perhaps three-quarters of a mile,and had followed the sheep trail up to the crest of a little ridge,beyond which there seemed to be a sag which ran down into the narrow,rock-strewn valley. Joe had his bow in his hand, an arrow on the string,and Jack followed him, ready to shoot at an instant's warning. As theytopped the ridge there was a clatter below them, and Joe, suddenlydrawing back his right arm, let fly an arrow at something that Jackcould not see. In a moment Jack stood beside him, and saw not more thanfifty yards away, a sheep running hard, and with a dark smear on itsside, just behind the fore-leg, which showed that it was wounded.
"Shoot him!" said Joe. "Shoot him, quick!" and Jack threw his gun to hisshoulder, but just as his eye settled into the sights, the sheepstaggered, came to its knees, rose and staggered on a few steps, andthen fell on its side. Jack's shot was not needed.
"Hurrah!" he said to Joe, as he slapped him on the shoulder; "that was agood shot and a quick shot, too. I did not suppose anybody could shootlike that with a bow and arrow. I'll have to get you to teach me how toshoot, Joe. I'd a heap rather kill anything with a bow while I'm outhere than use my gun. Wouldn't it be great to go out with the Indiansand hunt buffalo with nothing but a bow and arrow?"
Joe smiled and seemed pleased, partly, perhaps, with his shot, andpartly because Jack was so glad that he had made a good one. They wentdown over the steep, slipping stone slide to where the sheep had fallen,but it did not lie there, for in its dying struggles it had rolled overand over down the steep slope, until now it lay on its side on a littlegrassy bank close to the trickle of water that flowed through theravine. The arrow which still remained in its side was broken.
"Well," said Joe, "we've got some meat, anyhow. Now we've got to butcherand carry it back to the horses. Are you pretty strong? Can you carry apretty good load?"
"I don't know," said Jack. "I guess if we're going to take in the wholesheep we've got to make two trips of it."
"Yes," said Joe, "I guess that's so."
They butchered and skinned the sheep, a yearling ram, but when theydivided it into two parts and each tried to shoulder one they found thatthe load was too heavy to be carried; so Joe took a hind quarter andJack a fore quarter and the skin, and carried it back to a point on themountain nearly above the horses. Then they returned and brought thesecond load.
While they were resting, Jack said to Joe: "What is there up on top,Joe? I'd like to get up there, and take a look over at the country. It'sonly about the middle of the day, is it?"
Joe looked at the sun, knowingly, and said: "That's it. Noon."
"Well," said Jack, "we've got three or four hours before we'll have tostart home. Let's climb up on top."
"All right," said Joe; "let's do it."
Before long they started upward toward the foot of the reef, aiming fora place where the rocks seemed broken away and discoloured, as if waterflowed down there at some time of the year. At Joe's suggestion, Jackleft his coat and the handkerchief he wore about his neck spread outover the meat, for this, Joe told him, would keep the birds and animalsfrom feeding on it. The climb up to the top of the reef was not nearlyso hard as Jack had supposed it would be, and it seemed that it did nottake them more than half an hour to gain the high table-land that formedthe mountain's summit. Here they could see a long way in everydirection. The mountain was a great shoulder thrust out toward theprairie from other higher mountains behind it. Its top was almost flat,and was covered with fine broken stones. One might ride a horse over itin almost any direction. No trees grew there and no grass. It was allgray rock. A few patches of snow still lay on it, although it was nowalmost midsummer, and in several deep valleys that pierced the greatshoulder, deep snow banks were still white among the scattering pines.On either side of this shoulder was a deep, wide valley. In one, lay thegreat lake from which flowed the river that Hugh and Jack had crossed ontheir way to the camp, in the other was a considerable stream, with afew small lakes along its course, the valley itself being overgrown withtimber, except for an occasional little open, grassy park. Stretchingaway far to the east lay the prairie, green for the most part, but withthe ridges brown, and out of it, a little to the north of east, rosethree shadowy masses, which Jack felt sure must be mountains.
"What are those, Joe?" he said, pointing to them.
"Oh," said Joe, "those are the Three Buttes--Sweet-grass Hills, youknow. That's where the camp will go when they go to hunt buffalo."
"My!" said Jack, "you can see a long way, can't you?"
"Yes," said Joe, "plenty prairie, ain't there?"
"You bet! But it's
cold up here, Joe," said Jack; "let's walk around alittle. I'd like to walk over to the other side and look down into thatother valley. It don't look as if anybody had ever been up there. It'sjust as wild as wild can be."
"No," said Joe, "not many people go up there. Sometimes Kutenais orStonies come down from the north and go up there to hunt. Not oftenthough."
"Is there much game there, Joe?"
"I don't know," was the answer, "but last year when I was camped herewith my uncle, a little camp of Stonies came down, and went up there andstayed four days, and when they came back they had two moose, an elk,and lots of sheep and goats."
"Jerusalem!" said Jack; "there must be lots of game."
"Yes, I suppose there is; plenty for everybody to eat."
They walked over toward the other side of the shoulder, talking as theywent, and as they passed down through a little hollow, suddenly a bird,about as big as a banty hen, brown and black, with some white on it,flew up from the ground and struck against Jack's knees, and thendropped down and began to flutter about at his feet. Joe sprang forwardand struck at it with his bow, but Jack caught his hand and said: "Holdon, hold on; don't kill it; let's see what it means." They stood therefor a moment or two and watched the little bird, and suddenly Jack said:"I believe that's a white-tailed ptarmigan, and it's got a nest, oryoung ones right here somewhere. Do you know what it is, Joe?"
"No," said Joe, "I don't know what you call it; I've seen plenty of thembefore; they live up here in the snow, and in winter they're all white;it's some kind of a chicken, I guess."
"Yes," said Jack, "that must be what it is. Ain't I glad I've seen one.I wish though we could find the nest, or see the little ones."
As he said this, Joe very slowly and carefully stooped down, andreaching out his hand grasped something between two of the stones, andthen standing up again said, "Here's one."
It was the tiniest little chicken that Jack had ever seen, hardly biggerthan his thumb, covered with fluffy yellow and brown down, and lookingfearlessly at its captors with its bright brown eyes. The mother birdhad drawn off a little bit while they were talking, but now seeing thatone of her young was in danger, she rushed at Jack again, peckingfuriously at his trousers, and sometimes holding them and flappingagainst his legs with her wing.
"Oh," said Jack, "isn't he a beauty; isn't he a perfect beauty. Wouldn'tI give anything to carry half a dozen of those back to the States, andtry to raise them; but it would be no good I suppose to take this onedown; it never would live down on the prairie, and we couldn't getanything to feed it, anyhow."
"No," said Joe, "no good to try to raise it, and it's too small to eat."
"That's so," said Jack, and stooping down he opened his hand, when thelittle one ran nimbly over the rocks, followed much more slowly by itsmother.
The boys went on over to the edge of the rocks and looked down into thewide valley below them; then they turned and walked a mile or two uptoward the main range. Joe pointed out to Jack some places where sheephad recently stamped out beds and lain in them, but nothing living wasseen. At length, as the sun began to sink toward the west, they wentback to the point where they had ascended to the table-land, and goingdown to the meat, carried it down to their horses, packed it on them andreturned to camp.