CHAPTER XI
THANKSGIVING DAY AT ERROLSTRATH--KATE'S RETURN--CUSTER'S BATTLE WITH "BLACK KETTLE"--KATE TELLS HER STORY--THE ORIGIN OF INDIAN CORN--A WOLF HUNT WITH GENERAL CUSTER--A WOLF STORY BY THE COLONEL
FIVE months had made their sad passage at Errolstrath ranche since Katewas carried off by the Indians. It was now November, and Thanksgiving,that day so sacred to every New Englander's heart, was rapidlyapproaching; it lacked but one week of its advent. Notwithstanding thesadness which still hovered over Errolstrath, the great healer, Time,had poured balm into the wounded hearts. There still remained the tenderremembrance of the light which the absent one always brought into thehouse, and the parents still strove to fulfil their obligations to thosewho were left to them, so Thanksgiving was kept as it had been eversince the settlement of the family on the ranche.
The mince pies had been baked, the cider bottled, and all that waslacking to make up the complement of the great dinner was a turkey. As,however, the woods were full of them around Errolstrath, no uneasinesswas felt in regard to the presence of the magnificent bird when he waswanted.
Joe, upon whom the family depended to keep the larder well supplied withgame, intended to go and kill a wild turkey the next day. Thanksgivingcame the second day following on the twenty-fifth, so there was ampletime to procure the principal dish for the coming event.
Joe had long since ceased to hunt for mere amusement. He had become averitable pot-hunter, not in the general sense in which the word isused, that is, a man who only kills his game on the ground, but hehunted only when the family needed a change of diet, and desired somekind of game.
It was Rob's duty that month to bring the cows home and milk them, aduty at which the boys took turn and turn about each month. That eveninghe was returning home with his charge, and was riding, as usual, one ofthe buffalo ponies. As he was going along the bank of the Oxhide, in thelong grass which grew in some places higher than a man's head, hisanimal suddenly stumbled with both feet, into a prairie dog's hole, andRob was incontinently thrown over his head, falling into the long grasswithout receiving any injury. As he started to his feet again, he feltsomething struggling in his hands, for he had involuntarily clutched atthe ground when the pony so unceremoniously tumbled him off, and to hisgreat surprise, he discovered that he had accidentally caught a largewild turkey! He held on to the bird manfully, although it tried itshardest to get away from him; and holding it by the legs, he walked onto the corral and drove the cows in. Then, still leading his pony, hearrived at the house, and called his mother and Gertrude out,exclaiming:--
"I've got the turkey for Thanksgiving, and I didn't have to shoot it,either!"
Joe, hearing the noise, came down from his room, and learning what hadcaused the racket, said:--
"By jolly, Rob, you are a lucky dog; but if any one read of the way youcaught it, they wouldn't believe it. I never heard of such a thingbefore. I sha'n't have to hunt one to-morrow now, and I'm glad of it,for I want to go to the fort to try to find out how the Indian war iscoming on."
"Well, Joe," said his mother, "as you needn't shoot one now, suppose youkill and pick it while Rob is milking, then hang it up somewhere so thatthe lynxes can't get it, and in the morning Gertie and I will get itready for the oven."
Joe then took it from Rob, who was still holding the struggling creatureby the legs, and taking it to the woodpile, he chopped off its head,then he picked it, and hung it up in the smoke-house as the safest placeuntil his mother was ready for it in the morning.
Thanksgiving day opened clear and cool, but not at all cold, forNovember in Kansas is one of the most delightful months in the wholeyear. The Indian summer is then at its height, and the amber mist hangsin light clouds on every hill, giving to all objects a smoky hue. Thismist rests particularly on the bluffs bordering that stream to whichGeneral John C. Fremont gave the name of "The Smoky Hill Fork of theRepublican." He first saw it in the late autumn of 1843, when on hisexploring expedition to the Rocky Mountains, and it is into that riverthat the Oxhide empties itself only a short distance from Errolstrathranche.
It was intended to have dinner served promptly at noon, and Mrs.Thompson had so announced to her husband and children, who were allanxious for twelve o'clock to strike.
About ten, while she and Gertrude were busy in the kitchen, the boys outin the yard, and Mr. Thompson in the timber, marking some trees heplanned to cut down, there rode up to the front porch a strange-lookingfigure on a roan pony which was evidently nearly blown in consequence ofthe pace at which it had been driven.
The strange object was seemingly a girl, but she was one mass of ragsover which was thrown a red blanket, Indian fashion. Her hair wasunkempt, and she sat crossways on her animal, like a savage.
Mrs. Thompson, hearing the sound of a horse's hoofs on the buffalo sodin front of the house, went out with her dish-cloth in her hand to seewho the intruder might be. Looking at her, she at first thought one ofthe Pawnee boys had come for Joe, but when she heard in a sad andapparently disappointed tone a voice which she could never haveforgotten: "My heavens! mamma, don't you know me?" she recognized it asthat of her lost daughter Kate. The cloth dropped from her hand, and shefell prone upon the porch, overcome by the shock.
Just as Gertrude, who had heard her mother's smothered groan, ran outwith a tin dipper of water to dash into her face, Kate dismounted, andrushing to where her mother was lying, she threw her arms around herneck and began to sob violently.
It was then that Gertrude, for the first time, saw her sister Kate, andshe, too, immediately fell upon her lovingly, and for some moments therewas weeping, laughing, kissing, and hugging. The boys, in the back partof the house, and their father in the stable, hearing the voices,hurried to the veranda, and in another second all were kissing andhugging the ragged girl, each one trying to outvie the other in theirjoy at the return of the pet of the household.
They fairly dragged Kate into the sitting-room, where, for a fewminutes, they looked at her in a dazed sort of way. Her mother was thefirst to come to her senses.
"The first thing to do," she said, "is to get some decent clothes on thechild; then as soon as Mr. Tucker comes we will have dinner. Oh! my,what a Thanksgiving it will be!"
Kate was soon made comfortable in clean linen, and a dress of hersister's, for she had outgrown all that were of her own wardrobe fivemonths before.
At this moment Mr. Tucker rode up to the door, and allowing Rob to takehis horse to the stable, the old man walked into the house. He was theonly invited guest on the Thanksgivings at Errolstrath. All his familywere long since dead, and he was alone in the world; besides, being aNew Englander, he had not forgotten how to appreciate the most importantfestival of Yankee Land.
He was wonderfully taken aback when he saw that Kate had returned, andhe congratulated her with his eyes full of tears; for he was a man witha warm heart, though his early life in the days of the old trappers hadgiven him a rough looking exterior.
Kate looked like the dear Kate of old, as all sat down to a realThanksgiving dinner. She was much browner than when she leftErrolstrath, because of her constant outdoor life in the Indian village.
"Oh! Kate," said her mother, as the happy girl took her accustomed placeat the table, between her father and Gertrude, "how earnestly I haveprayed that you might be restored to us; I felt at times almost indespair, but the thought of the good God's promises to the patient,cheered me up, and I knew that in His own time my prayer would beanswered. What a different Thanksgiving this is from what we all haveexpected, when we thought of Kate's vacant chair! Only think, we havenever yet been separated on this blessed day during all the years wehave lived at Errolstrath! But we little thought that we should betogether to-day."
"We have much to be thankful for," said Mr. Thompson; "excellent crops,good luck with our stock, and to cap the climax, our beloved Kate isrestored to us."
The Thanksgiving dinners at Errolstrath were composed of thoseconventional dishes which make up the
celebration of the festival in NewEngland, and the one at Errolstrath that day was perfect in itsresemblance to those of the old homestead in Vermont.
While they were discussing the good things on the table, Kate was toldhow Rob had got the turkey for the dinner, and also how matters hadprogressed at the ranche during her absence, for she was very anxious toknow. Her father said that he had raised the largest crop of corn sincehe had been on the creek; that the wolves had carried off two calvesfrom Errolstrath, but that many of the neighbors had suffered a greatdeal more from their depredations, and that a grand wolf hunt wascontemplated by the whole neighborhood, for something had to be done tothin out the ravenous creatures. Gertrude told how many chickens shehad, but Joe gave them all the best news they had heard for a longtime.
"I was over at Fort Harker yesterday," he said, "and I heard thatGeneral Custer had attacked the camp of Black Kettle, the Cheyennechief, on the Washita in the Indian Territory, and completely wiped themout. The war is ended, and the savages are suing for a peace whichGeneral Sheridan says they will be sure to keep this time. Thecommanding officer told me that Custer would soon arrive at the fort,and that the settlers need have little more fear; that they may goanywhere now without expecting to lose their hair. He said that Sheridanhad been promoted to the rank of lieutenant-general for the brilliantsuccess of his winter campaign, and that he would shortly be at FortHarker on his way to Washington."
"Well, that is glorious news," said Mr. Tucker. "No more stealing prettylittle girls from their homes, eh?"
When Joe had finished his joyous piece of intelligence, the familyadjourned to the big sitting-room, and Kate was asked to tell thewonderful story of her capture and escape. She seated herself in herfavorite chair, an old Boston rocker, brought from Vermont and nicelycushioned at the back, and was making ready to begin, when her mothersaid:--
"What in the world, Kate, possessed you to go away from the house thatday and to tell none of us where you intended to go?"
"Why," answered Kate, "I remembered that you were very fond ofraspberries, and I thought that, as they must be ripe, I would saddleGinger and go up to the patch to get some, for I wanted to surprise you.I took my little Indian basket--"
"I had nearly filled my basket."]
"Buffalo Bill found your basket on the trail the other side of BluffCreek ford," interrupted Joe, "and that is how we came to know that theIndians had captured you."
"I remember now," said Kate, "that I held on to it for a long time andthen dropped it. I don't know why I kept it in my hand. Well, as I wassaying, I rode out to the patch, tied Ginger to a sumac bush, and beganto pick the berries, which were ripe as I had expected. I had nearlyfilled my basket when with a dash that nearly frightened me out ofmy senses, a band of Indians came from the other side of the bigledge, and before I knew where I was, I found myself in front of ahorrible-looking savage, and the whole band started south as tight astheir ponies could go. I remember hearing Ginger give a snort, as hejerked up by the roots the bush I had tied him to, and fairly flewtowards the ranche--"
"There, mother," said Joe, "that's just what I told you when Ginger camehome with the sumac fastened to his bridle!"
"Oh, if I could only have jumped on Ginger's back," continued Kate,"before the Indians had got me, they never would have had the ghost of achance of catching me. But they came upon me before I had the least ideathey were anywhere near.
"We rode all that afternoon, halting for a few moments, long after dark,for the Indians to change ponies, as they had some loose ones with them.We kept on at a good gait all that night, until about daylight, when westayed for more than an hour on the other side of the Arkansas River, tograze the ponies among the sand hills, and for the Indians to eat theirbreakfast. They were quite kind to me; gave me some dried buffalo meat,and brought me some water from the stream in a horn, and tried to makeme understand that they did not intend to harm me.
"Of course, I was frightened at the idea of being carried off by thehorrid savages, but I tried to keep my senses, and watched every treeand rock on the trail. I looked at the sun to learn which way we weregoing, and determined in my mind that I would escape at the firstopportunity.
"On the tops of the highest points of the hills, I saw the stonemonuments, which Joe had often told me were placed by the savages ontheir travels from place to place, as marks to show where water and woodare to be found."
"Yes," said Mr. Tucker; "you can see those piles of stones on every hillabout here; and from them you can always see water or timber, indicatingwhere to camp."
"They were to be seen on every divide we crossed," continued Kate; "andbesides, I saw lots of the compass-plant, or rosin-weed, the leaves ofwhich, Joe had told me, always pointed north, so I felt satisfied if Icould ever escape, I would have no trouble in finding my way back tothe Oxhide.[2] After a long, wearisome ride, until the next morning, wearrived at the Canadian River, which the Indians called the 'Mai-om,' orRed, and on the bank of which was the village consisting of about ahundred lodges.
"There I was turned over to the women, who treated me very decently, andI immediately began to study the language, for I knew that that wouldhelp me in getting into their good graces. I willingly took hold of thework which falls to the lot of the squaws in every camp, and taught themhow to cook after the white style. You may imagine I had plenty to do,for the warriors liked the biscuit I used to make, and they sometimeshad a good deal of flour for which they had traded with the white menwho bought their furs.
"I made friends of the dogs in the village, and there were hundreds ofthem, some of them miserable curs, but they could make more noise than apack of wolves; and I thought if I could teach them to know me, theywould not bother me when I attempted to run away; for you know thatthey are the most watchful animals imaginable. At night, not theslightest sound escapes their well-trained ears, and at the approach ofa human being, they set up the most terrific barking and howling youever heard. Well, I soon made friends with every one of them, and Icould go around the village after dark, and they would not utter agrowl.
"I watched very closely the large herd of ponies,--there were more thantwo hundred belonging to the village,--to find out which one of them wasthe fleetest, and had the most endurance. I picked out the little roan Irode here, and, Joe, I will make him a present to you; for if you hadnot taught me so much about plants, and the methods of the Indians, andbefore all things else, taken such pains with me when I wanted to ride apony, I never should have been able to run away and come home safely."
"Thank you, Kate," said Joe. "We have kept Ginger just as finely as everfor you, and he is the best pony in the whole country, I don't care howmany the Indians may have."
Kate went on with her wonderful experience. "Near the tepee where Islept I found an old elm tree that had a great hollow in it near theroots, and I determined to make it my storehouse for the food I shouldneed when I ran away. I did not, of course, begin to hide anything in ituntil I had been in the village for over four months. Then I used tosave little by little of my portion of the dried buffalo meat, as I knewthat it would keep for a long time without spoiling.
"We ate all sorts of things that at first rather disgusted me;puppy-stew, for instance. Now, mother and Gertrude, don't laugh; Ireally soon learned to like it, though I never expect to be compelled toeat it again. It is the cleanest thing the Indians have, if you willonly get over the natural prejudice against eating dog. Why, just think,the puppies are only sucklings when they are eaten; they have tastednothing but their mother's milk, and the mothers are fed on buffalo meatonly.
"I suppose that you, mother and Gert, want to know how puppy-stew isprepared? Well, when the little things are rolling fat, as round as aball of butter, the old woman who has charge of the lodge takes them upand feels them all over, and if satisfactory, she chokes them to deathby literally hanging them to a tree with a buffalo sinew. When dead,they are singed before the fire, just as you singe a fowl; the entrailsare taken out, and then the flesh is boiled
in a pot, and eaten as hotas possible. The savages, particularly the old squaws, can take up intheir buffalo-horn spoons, meat which would scald a white person todeath, and swallow it without the slightest difficulty. I suppose thatthat, and their constant brooding over a smoky fire in the tepees, makesthem look so old and wrinkled at an early age. They are the mosthorrid-looking witches you ever saw, and they would need no 'fixing up'to play the part in Macbeth."
"Talking of curious dishes eaten by the Indians," said Mr. Tucker, "upin Oregon, where I was trapping a good many years ago, the squaws makewhat I call Indian jelly-cake. They take the black crickets, roasted,which form a large portion of their subsistence, and make a kind ofbread of them, after having ground them on a flat stone. They thenspread on it the boiled berries of the service tree or bush, and if itwas not manipulated by their very dirty hands, it would be verypalatable."
"The Indians of the great plains," continued Kate, "live almostexclusively on meat; they gather a few berries sometimes, but theirprincipal diet is buffalo meat.
"After I had been in the village for over four months, I began to thinkof trying to escape. My clothes were becoming more ragged every day, andI was obliged to resort to the blanket as a covering, though I kept whatI had worn there as long as I could.
"One day there was a great feast in the village, with dancing andcarousing, which the warriors kept up until long after midnight, andconsequently slept very soundly. Now, thought I, is my time. So after Ifound out that the old squaw with whom I lodged was sound asleep, Icrept up, and looked out to see what kind of a night it was. The moonwas low down in the western heavens, but bright enough for me to see thetrail, so I determined to make the attempt. I took a piece of buffalorobe for a saddle, and went out to the herd to catch the pony on whichI had had my eyes for such a long time, and had petted whenever I wasnot watched. The dogs, of course, had come out of their holes to seewhat was going on, having heard my almost noiseless footsteps; butrecognizing me instantly, they did not set up their customary howl. Theywent back to sleep without making any trouble, and I walked out to theherd about a quarter of a mile away, and soon found the little roan Iwanted. He came up to me without a neigh, luckily, and I fastened thepiece of robe on him, tucked the dried buffalo meat, which I had takenfrom my hiding-place, into my bosom, and jumping on, started at a pacewhich, if I had not been a good rider, would have tossed me off before Ihad gone half a dozen yards.
"The pony seemed to know just what I required of him, for he ran on agood lope, with his belly almost touching the ground, and in a littlewhile I had crossed the ford of the Canadian, and was going up thedivide on the other side as fast as I dared to force him. I took aglance at the north star to get my bearings, for I dared not follow thebroad trail, as the Indians would be sure to track me, and struck acrossthe country, up one hill and down the other until day began to break.Then I stayed a few seconds at a small branch to let my pony drink andto take a swallow myself, and on I went, not daring to let him grazeyet.
"Mile after mile the noble little fellow carried me until late thatafternoon. Of course I watered him at every creek I came to, but did nothalt until it had grown quite dark. Then I took him about a mile downinto a piece of timber, unsaddled him and let him graze for more than anhour. I kept my ears open, fearing every moment to hear the sound ofponies' hoofs, for I felt confident that the Indians would follow me themoment they discovered that I was gone.
"When I thought he had sufficiently rested, and I had eaten a smallpiece of the meat, I mounted him again and started on a lope northward.I kept the little gallop, changing into a brisk walk once in a while,until I could see by the daylight the long silvery line of the Arkansas,looking like a white snake in its many windings. Then I felt prettysafe, after I had stopped and watched the trail back as far as I could,which was for more than two miles. I could see nothing like dust, norhear a sound, so I began to hope that I had really escaped, and my heartbegan to feel lighter than it had for many a long month.
"I crossed the Arkansas, which the Indians call 'Mit-sun,' meaning Big,and it was up to my pony's breast, but he struggled through splendidly,though I got my moccasins wet, for the water came to my knees. I did notmind that, as I had often got wet through in the Canadian where we usedto go swimming almost every morning while at the village. The squaws arevery fond of the water in that way, but are not so clean with theirhands as I would many a time have liked them to be.
"On the other side of the divide separating the Arkansas from the SmokyHill, I halted in a box-elder grove to rest my roan, and rest myself,for I was nearly worn out. I felt very safe then, for I knew that I wasapproaching the settlements on Plum Creek, and if I had known, what Joehas just told us, that the war was over, I might have been at my easeall the way from the Arkansas.
"Early this morning I came to Bluff Creek, at the very spot where I hadcrossed with the Indians, and how my heart fluttered when I knew I wasso near dear Errolstrath! From that creek I rode slowly, as I knew I hadnothing to fear from the Indians, for the settlements were too thick,and besides it was daytime, when the Indians rarely attack.
"I often got off my pony when it grew too dark to see, to feel theleaves of the compass-plant, that I could always find without muchhunting on every hill. Now, mamma and father, don't you think that Ihave made a famous ride?"
"We all think so," said her father; "it is one of the most remarkable onrecord, and we rejoice more than even you can imagine, to have our deardaughter back again, well as ever, after such an experience."
"Why don't the Indians raise corn?" inquired Rob, in a general way; "itis so easily grown out here on the plains."
"Some of the tribes do," replied Mr. Tucker. "The Sioux and the Mandanshave always had their corn-fields, but as usual the women have to doall the work. Do you know, Rob, that the corn is a native plant of Northand South America, yet it has never been found wild?"
"Do tell us about it," said Mrs. Thompson; and Kate asked if there werenot some legend connected with it, "for there is not a thing that theyeat, without its wonderful story."
"Certainly," replied Mr. Tucker. "There is a beautiful legend among theSioux, which I learned from them when I was among them in 1840, and asit is not late yet, if you like, I will tell it to you."
"Do! do!" all exclaimed in chorus.
"Of course," began Mr. Tucker, "among the Indians the origin of corn iswrapped up in the supernatural legends of the race, of which there areseveral, differing materially, however, in their details. Strange as itmay seem, nowhere in all the vast domain of both Americas, has a wildspecies of corn been discovered; and yet the inhabitants of thesecontinents have used it from the earliest times, of which even historyhas no record. Yet, at some time in the unchronicled past it must havegrown wild. An unknown benefactor of his race--one whose name not eventradition preserves, excepting in unintelligible myths--saw somewhere,the feathery tassels and glossy blades with their silken ears amidst thefoliage of a sedgy river bank, and owing to his first care, the wildplant, after many ages, has become the maize of commerce, and the kingof all the cereals of the nineteenth century.
"When Columbus found the New World, corn was the staple food of alltribes of Indians from the far north to the extreme south, who attemptedto cultivate the soil at all.
"The celebrated Pere Marquette, the Catholic priest who passed his lifeamong the savages, met with it at every point, on his memorable journeydown the Mississippi River, in 1763. It has been exhumed from tombs of agreater antiquity than those of the Incas of Peru. Darwin discoveredheads of it embedded in an ancient beach that had been upheavedeighty-five feet above the sea-level.
"That Indian corn is indigenous to America, has never been questioned bybotanists, for Europe knew nothing of it until Columbus returned homefrom our shores.
"Longfellow has poetically told of one of the Indian traditions of theorigin of corn, in his _Hiawatha's Fasting_.
"The legend was first transmitted to the white men by Rattlesnake, andstrange to say, he wa
s a chief of the Kansas or Kaw tribe of Indians. Herelated it on an island at the mouth of the Kansas River, in 1673, as isrecorded in the old French manuscript of an early traveller.
"It states that a band of a hundred Kansas Indians in returning from asuccessful raid on the Shawnees, of whom they had taken severalprisoners, halted on the island, taking advantage of the thick timberwhich grew in groups, as a convenient spot to torture their captives.
"Pere Marquette, whom the Indians called 'The White Prophet,' happenedto be there most opportunely; for through the respect and veneration inwhich the monk was held, he saved the lives of the hapless Shawnees, whowere set at liberty. That evening while eating their supper of cookedhominy, the good priest asked for the legend which told of the origin ofIndian corn, and Rattlesnake gave it, as he said he had often heard itat his mother's knee.
"It is the same story the Sioux told me, but I will follow the languageof the old manuscript, for I have often read it.
"Once when the world was young, and there were but few red men in it,there was a chief whose wife bore him many children. Every summer addedone and sometimes two to his family. They became so numerous that thefather could not give them sufficient food, and the hungry children werecontinually crying. By great patience and skill in hunting, however, thechief at length raised a large family, until his eldest son reached thestature of manhood.
"In those days the red men all lived in peace and friendship. There wasno war, and no scalp-locks hung from the doors of the lodges. The eldestson had the fear of the Great Spirit in his heart, and, like his father,he toiled patiently in the chase that he might assist in procuring foodfor his brothers and sisters.
"In those days all of the promising young men, at their entrance intomanhood, had to separate themselves from the tribe, and retire into theforest, to see if the Great Spirit would grant them some request. Duringthis time there was to be neither eating nor drinking, but they were tospend the hours in thinking intently on the request they were making ofthe Manitou.
"When the young man had gone a long distance in the forest, he began topray to the Great Spirit, and to ask for a favor which he had longcherished in his heart for the occasion. He had often felt howfrequently the chase had disappointed the red men, and how often theirfamilies had gone to sleep hungry, because they had no meat. He hadalways determined when his fasting and dreaming hour should come, thathe would ask the Great Spirit to give the red men some article of foodmore certain than the meat obtained in the chase.
"All that day the youth prayed, and thought of his request, and neitherwater nor food entered his mouth.
"At night, with a bright hope in his young heart, he lay down to sleep.Soon he had a vision. He saw a magnificently attired youth coming towardhim. He was clad in robes of green, and green plumes hung gracefullyabout his comely countenance.
"'My dear young friend,' said the stranger, 'the Great Spirit has heardyour prayer, but the boon you ask is a great boon; and you must passthrough a heavy trial of suffering and patience before you will see therealization of your wish.
"'You must first try your strength with me, and suffer nothing to enteryour lips until I am overcome, before you will receive your reward.Come, the night wears apace, let us wrestle amid the trees.'
"The chief's son had a big heart, and knew no fear, so he closed withhis graceful antagonist. He found him endowed with muscles like the oak,and he had the wind of a wolf, that never was exhausted by effort. Longand long they wrestled, but so equal was their strength that neithercould claim any decided advantage. 'Enough, my friend, for this time.You have struggled manfully. Still resist your appetite, give yourselfup wholly to prayer and fasting, and you will receive the gratificationof your desires. Farewell until to-morrow night, when I will return towrestle with you again.' Then the young visitor, with his green plumeswaving over his head, took his flight toward the skies, the green andyellow vestments with which he was clad expanding like wings.
"When the Indian awoke, he found himself panting like a stag when chasedby the wolves, and the perspiration dropped from his body; yet his heartwas light, for he knew a sign had come from the Manitou. Although he wasvery hungry that day, and some berries and grapes tempted him sorely, herefrained from touching them, resisting successfully these naturaldesires.
"Night came, and the young Indian closed his eyes in sleep; and lo!there was a continuance of his former vision. He saw coming toward himthe graceful being he had seen on the previous night. The silken wingsof green and gold swept through the air with great velocity, and thegreen plumes on his head waved rhythmically in their beauty.
"They again wrestled, as before, and although the Indian had neithereaten nor drunk, he felt his strength greater than in the previousconflict; and he obtained some signal advantage over his celestialcompetitor. They were struggling together when the morning commenced tolook upon the world, and he of the green plumes thus addressed theIndian youth:--
"'My friend, on our next trial you will be the victor. Now, listen how Iinstruct you to take advantage of your conquest. When my efforts cease Ishall die. Strip me of my yellow garments and bury me in soft andnew-made earth. Visit my grave week by week, for in a little time Ishall return to life in the form of a plant, which you will readilyrecognize by its resemblance to me. Let no weeds or grass be near me tokeep the dew and sunshine from my green leaves, and once a month drawthe fresh earth to my body, that it may grow and strengthen. When earshave shot from my side, and the silk which shall fall from their topscommences to dry, then pull the ear, strip it of its garments as youwill strip me when I am dead. Place the milky grains before the firewhich will cook the outside, without destroying any of the juicysubstance. Then all the race of man will have a sweeter and strongerfood than they have ever known before. There shall be no more hungerupon the earth excepting among those who have a lazy spirit, or whom theBad Manitou claims as his own.'
"When the Indian awoke, he felt very weak from hunger, and it requiredall the resolution of which he was master to restrain the gratificationof his appetite, but he passed the day in fasting and prayer, and atnightfall laid himself down to sleep.
"True to his promise, his friend of the green plumes again appeared inhis trance, and again the wrestle commenced. The young Indian wasexceedingly weak from his long fasting, but when engaged in the conflicthe felt his heart grow big within him; his arms became as strong as theyoung oaks of the forest, and after a short struggle he threw hisantagonist to the ground. The young Indian stood by the side of hisadversary who said that he was dying, and told him to remember theinstructions he had given him. The young Indian accordingly stripped thebody of its vesture of mingled green and yellow, and carefully digging agrave, deposited it in the soft earth. He thought that the earth adheredto his hand in a strange manner, and at that moment he awoke, and foundin his hand a seed such as he had never before seen.
"The Indian then knew that the Manitou had heard his prayer, and thatthe grain was the body of his friend. He then went from the forest tothe prairie, made soft the earth, and planted the strange seed sent tohim in his dream.
"He then returned to his father's lodge, and the whole family wereanxious to know if he had received any sign from the Great Spirit, buthe evaded all inquiries and kept his important secret. Every morning,before the sun's bright rays had looked upon the earth, he was besidethe grave of the seed, and carefully kept the grass and weeds away.
"On the morning of the ninth day, the faithful youth saw a green plantshooting from the earth, and as he gazed on its green blades, he knew atonce the friend with whom he had wrestled.
"Once each month he drew the fresh earth to the stalks, which grew dayby day until they far overtopped his own stature, and then there beganto protrude from their sides the shoots from which a mass of silkenfibres issued. In a short time the plant began to dry, as had beenforetold to him, and then he invited his father, mother, brothers, andsisters to the spot and showed them what the Great Spirit had sent himat his fasting season.
He then pulled one of the two ears and roasted itbefore the fire.
"The whole family tasted the new food, and they liked it. The other earwas kept for seed, and in a few years the red man had plenty of the newfood which the Manitou had sent him."
"That is a beautiful story," said Mrs. Thompson, and the others allagreed with her. "Kate, you must be very tired; don't you want to go tobed and sleep like a Christian once more?"
"No," replied the young girl, "my muscles are 'like the oak trees in theforest,' as were those of the Indian who got the corn from the spiritwith the green wings. Besides, it's only seven o'clock, and I want tolook at you all for some time yet."
Before eight o'clock, Buffalo Bill and Colonel Keogh came over from thefort, as they had heard from some one from Oxhide that Kate had comehome, and they wanted to see her.
They were both surprised at her excellent condition, and Bill venturedthe remark that the Indians had certainly used her much better than theywould have used him had he been in her place.
"I've no doubt of that," said Mr. Tucker; "they would have had aroasting frolic if they had caught you instead of our little friendKate!"
"Well," said Colonel Keogh, "the war is ended, and I guess we have hadthe last trouble in Kansas that we shall ever have. The Indians aregoing peacefully to their reservations, where the Government will feedthem, which is cheaper than fighting them, at anyrate! General Custer isat the fort, and he has heard so much of Joe that he wants to see him,and take him on a wolf hunt in a day or two."
"I'll go, Colonel, for sure, for they are carrying off calves and hogsevery night from some of the ranches on this creek," said Joe.
"Talking about wolves," said Colonel Keogh, "I never saw so manytogether in all my life as I did after the battle of the Washita. Wefound the bunch of ponies belonging to the Indians, numbering abouttwelve hundred, and General Custer ordered them all to be killed, as anecessity, to prevent other savages from getting them. A Plains Indianwithout a horse to ride is as helpless as a child. He won't walk, and itwas thought that by killing all the ponies we found, it would cripplethe savages as effectually as if we killed the same number of warriors.The bunch was driven into a narrow canyon near their camp, and as theyhuddled against the high rocky wall, a detachment of the cavalry wasdetailed to shoot them. We camped near there for a few days, and atnight the wolves would congregate there to feed upon the dead bodies ofthe ponies. I suppose they came from a distance of a hundred miles, foryou know a wolf thinks nothing of going that far for a good meal. Ithappened to be the time of the full moon, and just after nightfall a lotof us used to go and ride on top of the bluff to watch the wolves cometo the feast. I think it is no exaggeration to say that five thousand ofthe hungry creatures gathered there every evening, as long as any fleshremained on the bones of the slaughtered ponies. Such snapping,snarling, growling, and fighting was never heard before. You could hearthem for two miles easily. Some of them were so pugnacious and ravenousthat they actually killed and devoured each other! I do not believe sucha scene was ever witnessed before or will be again."
"You have all heard that Sheridan has been promoted to belieutenant-general, and Sherman to be general, as Grant has been electedto the Presidency?" said Buffalo Bill. "Sheridan received notice onKansas soil of his well-deserved promotion, and it makes the placeclassic ground. I will tell you how it was. Of course, official noticeof the promotion was daily expected, as it had been seen in the papersfrom Washington, but the mails were very irregular in the vastuninhabited region south of the Arkansas. It was carried by the scoutsfrom Fort Hays, the nearest railroad point, and they also tookdespatches to the scattered military posts that had been establishedtemporarily, in the form of camps, cantonments, or wherever a detachmentof troops happened to be. Early one morning General Sheridan,accompanied by two officers of his personal staff, left Camp Supply inthe Indian Territory for Fort Hays, to take the railroad for Washington,where he had been ordered to report. When the party had arrived at thefoot of a high mountain, just on the border of this state, they saw farahead of them on the trail made by the troops in going into the field, adark object moving rapidly toward them. As the distance between themlessened, they noticed that it was a horseman whose animal, flecked withfoam, and with distended nostrils, was straining every muscle to reachthe ambulance. In a few moments the sound of the horse's hoofs weredistinctly heard on the hard trail, and when he had approached nearenough, its rider, the excited scout, recognized Sheridan among theoccupants of the ambulance. He rose in his stirrups and waved his hat inone hand, while in the other he held up a piece of yellow paper, cryingout at the top of his voice:--
"'Hurrah for the lieutenant-general!' The paper he handed to Sheridanwas a telegram from the President, informing him of his promotion."
"Well," said Colonel Keogh, looking at the old-fashioned clock in thecorner of the room, "I had no idea it was so late. It's nearly ten.Come, Cody; we must get back to the fort." Then saying good-night toall, with an admonition to Joe not to forget the wolf hunt, of which hesaid he would send him word, they mounted their horses and rode off.
Mr. Tucker was to remain until morning, so they all retired, afterhaving passed one of the most cheerful Thanksgivings in their lives.
FOOTNOTE:
[2] The compass-plant, or rosin-weed, as it is commonly called, is the_Silphium laciniatum_ of the botanists. It is found in luxuriance onevery hill-top on the great plains, and resembles an immense oak leaf,which, while growing, always points its thin edges north and south,consequently broad surfaces east and west.