XXXIII A LONELY CAMP
The Sheyenne River, where the night's camp was pitched, should not beconfused with the Cheyenne, which is a tributary of the Missouri. Bothwere named after the same tribe of Indians, who once lived along theirbanks. To distinguish the two, different spellings of the name have beenadopted. The Sheyenne is a much smaller stream than the Cheyenne, and oneof the principal rivers that go to form the Red. After a general courseto the east, the Sheyenne turns north, and runs almost parallel with theRed, to fall into it at last. The spot where the hunters were camped wasonly about ten miles from the Red, but another stream, the Wild Rice, laybetween.
St. Antoine advised against going directly east. "If you go east," hesaid, "you will reach the Riviere Rouge many miles below the LacTraverse. It is more difficult to cross there. I cannot tell you whetherthere is a ford or not. But if you keep to the southeast, reaching theriver where it is narrow and shallow, you can cross easily. There it isnot called Riviere Rouge, but Bois des Sioux. A few miles above where theBois des Sioux joins the Ottertail, which comes from the east to form thereal Riviere Rouge, there is a good crossing place. When you are across,turn south and follow the river to the Lac Traverse."
The caravan was slow in getting away that morning. The good-natured _boisbrules_ lingered to help the Brabant-Perier party across the Sheyenne. Atsome time hunters or traders had built a rude log bridge over the deep,muddy stream. Part of the old bridge had been carried away by floodwaters, but skilled axmen soon repaired it, so that the two carts couldbe taken across.
By the time good-byes were said, last words of advice and warning spoken,the river crossed, and the steep bank climbed, the sun had passed itshighest point. St. Antoine, Lajimoniere, and several others rode with thelittle party through the thick woods that fringed the stream bank. Thewoods passed, St. Antoine carefully pointed out the route. The day wasclear, and the travelers could see far across the flat, open country.
"You see that _ile des bois_?" questioned St. Antoine, pointing to a tinydark dot far away on the prairie. "That is the only _ile des bois_ formany miles around. Make straight for it. You can camp there to-night.There is a spring, and wood to boil your kettle. To-morrow go on in thesame direction, and you will come to the river the Sioux call _Pse_, thewhite men _Folle Avoine_, from the wild rice that grows in its marshes.If you keep a straight course you will reach that river near a fordingplace. From there the Bois des Sioux is less than a day's journey. But donot try to take your carts across either river until you are sure thatthe water is not too deep or the current too strong. The Bois des Siouxis a small stream and has many shallow places. Go then, and the good Godgo with you."
The hunters turned back, waved a last farewell, and disappeared among thetrees. Louis set his face towards the dark dot far across the prairie."_Marche donc!_" he cried, and slapped his pony's flank, he was ridingahead as guide, while Neil and Walter walked beside the carts.
The stretch of flat prairie between the Sheyenne and the Wild Rice lookedeasy to cross. The party expected to make good time, but the veryflatness of the land proved a hindrance. The poorly drained plain wasmarshy. The grass grew tall and coarse, the soil it sprang from wasspongy and frequently soft and wet. Stretches of standing water or verysoft ground, grown thick with marsh grass and cattails, had to beskirted. In spite of the travelers' care in picking their way, the cartwheels often sank far into the mud and water, and the faithful ponies hadto pull hard to haul them through. In such places Mrs. Brabant and thechildren got out and walked or rode the two saddle ponies. Most of thetime Louis or Neil rode ahead to select the route.
The difficult going lengthened the ten or twelve miles to that dark spotof woods. Sunset found the party still a mile or more from the _ile desbois_. It would be better to go on, they decided, than to camp on thewet, open ground, with no wood for a fire, and only stagnant marsh waterto drink.
Louis and Mr. Perier, with Max in front of him on the saddle, were ridingin advance. Then came the carts with Mrs. Brabant and the girls, Neilbeside the first cart, Raoul accompanying the second. Walter ploddedalong in the rear. Turning to look back at the sunset sky, where the redsand golds were already fading away, he noticed several dark forms lopingalong the trail through the tall grass. They were prairie wolves.
Walter had often seen wolves following the cart train, cleverly keepingjust out of musket range, but ready to close in on the remains of anygame that might be killed. He did not fear the cowardly scavengers. Yetnow they gave him a strange feeling he had never had when with the longcaravan. The sight of those wild creatures, shadowy in the twilight,following so boldly in the wake of the tiny party, brought to him asudden sense of loneliness and peril such as he had not known before. Heshivered, though the evening was warm. Then he raised his gun, intendingto frighten the beasts, even if he could not hit them.
Before he had time to fire, an exclamation from Mrs. Brabant caused himto lower his gun and turn towards the cart. Both carts had stopped. Ahundred feet ahead Louis and Mr. Perier had reined in. Louis jumped fromhis horse and stooped to examine the ground.
"What is it? Why are we stopping?" Walter asked Raoul.
"Louis signaled for a halt. I don't know why."
Moved by curiosity, Walter followed Neil and Raoul to the spot where thehorsemen had reined in. It did not need the Scotch boy's exclamation orLouis' sober face to make Walter understand the seriousness of what theyhad found. They had come upon a trail, a clear, distinct trail. It wasnot the wide, trampled track of a buffalo herd, but the clearly defined,narrow trail of horses single file.
"Indians?" asked Walter, though he knew well enough that the question wasunnecessary.
Neil answered with a grunt of assent. Louis, leading his horse, had goneon a little farther. In a moment he turned and summoned the others. Hehad come upon a parallel trail, somewhat wider and more irregular thanthe first and marked with lines resembling wheel tracks, but not so wideas those made by the broad-rimmed cart wheels.
"_Travois_," he said briefly. "Heavily loaded."
Walter had heard the word _travois_ before in the sense in which Louisused it. It was the name the French Canadians had given to a primitiveIndian conveyance, two poles lashed to the sides of a horse or dog, thefront ends resting on the animal's shoulders, the rear ends trailing onthe ground. Cross pieces were tied on, and a hide or blanket stretchedbetween the poles. Travois were loaded with household goods, or carriedwomen too old and children too young to walk or ride horseback. The crudevehicles were used everywhere by the prairie Indians.
A little farther on was another similar trail, and beyond it a fourth, anarrow horse track like the first.
"A whole band," Louis concluded, "women and children and all. When I sawthat first trail I feared it was a war party of mounted men only."
"They are traveling as if in enemy country," Neil commented, "in fourlines, instead of single file."
"With the travois and women in the middle, and the braves on theoutside," added Louis. "Yes, they must be uneasy about something."
"How long ago do you think they passed?" asked Mr. Perier.
"Not many hours. Since last night. It must have been before noon though.We could have seen them a long way across the prairie."
"They are far away by now."
"Yes. It is good that we did not make an earlier start."
"And that our trail crosses theirs instead of going the same way," saidNeil. "We'd better go on as fast as we can to that clump of trees. Ourcamp will be hidden there." Somehow he did not feel quite so sure nowthat Dakotas would not dare to attack white men, especially when thewhite men had horses to be stolen.
Louis climbed on his pony again, and the other boys turned back to bringup the carts. They made the best speed they could through the tall grassand over the marshy ground, but darkness had settled down before theyreached the _ile des bois_.
Finding a camping place among the trees, Louis and Walter unhi
tched andunsaddled the horses. Instead of hobbling them and turning them loose tofeed, they tied the four ponies to trees close to the camp fire, wherethey could browse on tufts of grass, leaves, and twigs. Louis was takingno risk of losing them. In the meantime Neil was cutting wood, Raoul hadkindled a fire, Mr. Perier had brought water from a rather brackish pool,and Mrs. Brabant and the girls were preparing supper.
To Walter the seclusion and shelter of the grove came as a relief fromthe open prairie. The cheerful flames of the camp fire lighting up thesurrounding tree trunks and the cottonwood leaves overhead, theappetizing smell of pemmican heating in an iron pan, raised his spirits.He forgot the following wolves and the Indian trail. The rest of theparty also seemed to have forgotten the unpleasant things of the day'sjourney. Elise hummed to herself as she helped Mrs. Brabant with thesimple meal. Max ran about to find sticks for the fire. Raoul teasedMarie, as he often did, and she retorted in her usual lively manner.Little Jeanne, with the dog Askime beside her, had fallen sound asleep ona blanket bed between the carts. She had to be waked when supper wasready.
The meal was as cheerful as if the little group had still been part ofthe big hunting party. Yet the loneliness of their situation had itseffect upon them. Unconsciously they lowered their voices. At theslightest sound from beyond the circle of firelight, the stirring of ahorse, the breaking of a twig, the rustling of a bush, the cry of a nightbird, everyone glanced quickly around. When a screech owl in a near-bytree wailed, they were all startled, then, shamefaced, laughed atthemselves.
After supper Mr. Perier drew Louis aside. "Do you think we ought to standguard to-night?" he asked in a low voice.
"I think it most wise," Louis replied promptly. "We do not wish ourhorses stolen, if any Indians have seen the smoke of our fire."
Including Raoul, who was quite old enough to do guard duty and would havebeen insulted if anyone had suggested that he was not, there were fivemen in the party. To make up an even number, Mrs. Brabant insisted ontaking her turn. It was arranged that Walter and Raoul should keep firstwatch, Mr. Perier and Neil second, and Louis and his mother the hoursjust before dawn. Both the latter knew, though they said nothing aboutit, that before dawn was the time danger was most likely to come, if itcame at all. Mrs. Brabant confessed to Louis that she would not besleeping then anyway, and might just as well be standing guard.
Though they had seen no sign of Indians except the track across theprairie, and seemed to be in no real danger, everyone but the two youngerchildren slept lightly and uneasily. The beasts seemed to catch theirmasters' uneasiness. Askime, as if personally responsible for the safetyof the camp, padded back and forth and round about through the grove,growling low in his throat sometimes, but never making a loud sound. Thenight was windy, and the mosquitoes were not troublesome, but the ponieswere restless. They crowded as close to the carts as their lariats wouldpermit. Now and then one or another would jump and snort as if in terror.Yet the guards could find nothing wrong, no cause of disturbance exceptthe howling of a wolf on the prairie or the hooting of a hunting owl.