Read The Ranche on the Oxhide: A Story of Boys' and Girls' Life on the Frontier Page 19


  CHAPTER XVII

  WILD HORSES--JOE SLEEPS IN WHITE WOLF'S TENT--CAMP ON THE WALNUT--WOLVES AND LYNXES--KILL AN ELK--THE CHASE--CAPTURE OF THE BLACK STALLION--WHITE WOLF'S SKILL--BREAKING THE HORSES

  THE Pawnees remained on Oxhide Creek later than usual this spring. Asthey wanted to go on a hunt for the wild horses on the Cimarron bottom,they had to wait until the grass grew enough to furnish pasture fortheir own ponies on the trip.

  About the middle of April, White Wolf told his warriors that he wouldstart in a few days. A runner was despatched to Errolstrath, to tell Joethe band would leave in a short time, and to be ready at a moment'snotice. The runner said that when White Wolf started he wanted to be offvery early in the morning, so as to make the Arkansas the first night.

  Joe, all anxious for the exciting trip, persuaded his mother and sistersto bake up a lot of bread, and boil hard a couple of dozen eggs forhim. He told them that that would be all he wanted, as they intended todepend upon the chase, Indian fashion, for everything else; and as thecountry they were going over was full of buffalo, antelope, and elk,they would not suffer from lack of food.

  He cleaned his father's Spencer carbine, bought a box of cartridges forit, and told Kate that he intended to ride the roan which she got fromthe Indians and had given to him. He thought the animal was better thanany the Pawnees had in their herd, though White Wolf had said that hecould ride one of theirs.

  The night of the third day after the runner had come to tell Joe to getready, another one came to the ranche and said that White Wolf and thewarriors would start in the morning. He told him that he had better cometo the camp with him, and stay there that night, so that there would beno delay about getting off early in the morning. So Joe got his thingsready, tied a couple of blankets to the cantle of his saddle, his lariatto the horn; slung his carbine over his shoulder, and buckled his beltof cartridges around his waist. He then bade good by to the family,jumped on his pony, which he had named Comanche, after the tribe whichhad captured Kate, and rode with the runner who had come for him, to thePawnee camp a mile distant.

  Arriving there, Joe found everything in confusion. Some of the warriorswere picketing their riding animals near the tepees, allowing the looseponies to run at large, as they will never leave the main bunch. Otherswere packing their wallets of par-fleche with dried meat for thejourney. White Wolf was sitting in the door of his lodge, smoking hispipe and giving general directions to his warriors.

  At last everything was straightened out to the satisfaction of thechief, and then all adjourned to their several tepees to make readytheir arms and ropes for the work that was to be done when they reachedthe Cimarron.

  Joe slept in the lodge of the chief that night, and before the dawn wasfairly upon the world, the warriors were up, saddling their ponies,taking down their lodges, and packing their traps on the backs of theanimals designated for that purpose. Then after a hastily swallowedbreakfast of dried buffalo meat, at a signal from White Wolf, the partymounted, and the cavalcade rode southwest at a gentle lope, the packanimals in front, in charge of two warriors.

  Joe rode alongside of White Wolf in the centre of the column, and theytalked of the probability of finding the herd of wild horses on the saltmarsh where they were going.

  They pulled up about noon to graze their animals and to have a smoke,which is the first thing an Indian does when he halts: it is of moreimportance to him than eating.

  The Big Bend where the Pawnees wished to cross the Arkansas wasseventy-two miles from the Oxhide, near the famous Pawnee Rock, on theold Santa Fe Trail.

  When the sun was about two hours high, they could see, three or fourmiles distant, the white contour of the sand hills which border thegreat silent, treeless stream, and the Indians knew that theircamping-ground was near. It was to be in the timber at the mouth of theWalnut, less than two miles from the spot where they would strike theArkansas.

  Before it had grown fairly dark, the heavy timber on the Walnut wasreached, and the party halted, turned their animals loose, took anothersmoke, and then prepared for the night.

  Around the camp-fire, White Wolf and several of the oldest warriors toldhow that region once belonged to their tribe. Their largest village hadbeen two hundred miles farther north, on the Republican, and many timesthey had come down to where they were now camped, to hunt the buffalo,or steal horses from the Cheyennes, their hereditary enemies. They toldhow they were once a powerful nation, but the white man had stolen theirlands, and now, only a small band, they were obliged to live on areservation set apart for them by the Government.

  It was a wild region where Joe now found himself. All night long couldbe heard the cry of the lynx, which sounded like that of an infant. Thewolves howled in the timbered recesses of the creek, but Joe slept well,rolled up in his blankets in the chief's lodge, and it was morningbefore he thought he had been asleep an hour.

  At the first streak of dawn, the Indians were out. White Wolf said thatthe mouth of the Walnut used to be a favorite place for elk. They mightstill haunt the stream; he would send out some of his hunters, andperhaps they would have elk for their breakfast.

  He selected two of the warriors, who started out on foot to see if theycould find any game. Joe, of course, accompanied them. They stalkedcautiously as only an Indian can--Joe had mastered the artperfectly--along the bank of the stream, not a stick breaking undertheir feet, nor the sound of the rustle of a dead leaf being heard, soquietly did they tread.

  At last, arriving at a bend of the creek, where the timber grows thethickest, the Indian in the lead stopped abruptly, put his hand outbehind him, the sign for the others to halt, and taking Joe's carbinefrom the boy's shoulder, got down on his belly and crawled forward asnoiselessly as a snake. Suddenly he raised the gun, and seeming to takea careless aim, pulled the trigger, and immediately Joe and the otherwarrior saw four elk rush past them, down the prairie, and out of sight.

  As he turned to Joe and the other warrior, telling them at the sametime to come on, the Indian who had fired said in his own language,"We'll have elk for breakfast now."

  They followed him into the timber, and there, not thirty yards fromwhere he had stood when he fired the carbine, was an elk, about twoyears old, dead as a stone wall!

  The work of skinning the elk did not take more than ten minutes, and itwas cut up into conveniently sized pieces, and each one of the hunterspacked his portion to camp, less than a mile distant.

  When they arrived they found the fire burning briskly, for White Wolfand the other warriors had heard the report of the gun, and they knewthat something in the shape of game had been secured, for Mazakin andTrotter, the two Indians whom the chief had sent out, were unfailingshots. The meat was soon cut into slices, and each man cut a twig forkupon which he stuck a slice, and every one became a cook for himself.Joe produced a loaf of his bread, and with water alone for drink theymade an excellent meal.

  When they had finished, the sun was just rising like a great molten ballout of the horizon of the far-stretching level prairie. The ponies,standing ready, were mounted, and the party moved out, crossed theArkansas at Pawnee Rock, and continued a southwesterly course all day.

  By sundown they arrived at the Cimarron, a clear, babbling stream, wherethe water was a little brackish, and which the Cheyennes callHo-to-oa-oa (Buffalo).

  There were no trees at this part of the Cimarron in those days, and theywere obliged to pitch their camp on the sandy bank of the river. Thegrass was luxurious, and their animals fairly revelled in it. They soonfilled themselves and lay down, as if they realized the hard work whichwould be their portion for the next few days.

  There were plenty of fish in the river, and as Joe had thoughtfullybrought some hooks and lines, he and White Wolf with two of the otherwarriors took dried buffalo meat for bait, and soon caught all theywanted for their supper.

  The next morning they broke camp at daybreak, and rode for a grove oftimber just visible in the far-distant western horizon, where White Wolfs
aid he believed they would find some wild horses. They always takeshelter at night in timber if any is to be found, and wander out on theprairie in the morning to graze.

  The party arrived at the grove by two o'clock, and established theirpermanent camp, as they saw the unmistakable signs that a herd of wildhorses made it their nightly rendezvous. Their lodges were put up in thesouthern edge of the grove, away from the trails of the animals.

  The Indians kept very quiet all day, sitting in the shadow of theirlodges, smoking and talking. They did not even build any fires, butcontented themselves with their dried buffalo meat and the bread whichJoe had brought, for fear of making the slightest disturbance, and thuspreventing the wild horses from returning to their usual nightlyresting-place. Every once in a while, either White Wolf himself or someof the other warriors would venture out of the timber and gaze long andanxiously over the vast prairie, in hope of seeing something of thebunch, which they knew was grazing somewhere not many miles away. Oncethe chief thought he saw in the distance, moving objects which he tookfor horses, for he was noted far beyond any other member of his bandfor his keen sight. He was right in his conjectures, for before half anhour had passed from the time he had first riveted his attention, thebunch--for such it was--had swung around, broadside to, and, approachingnearer the timber, could be counted. There were over forty animals, ledby a magnificent black horse which the chief said he would try tocapture.

  It was a beautiful sight, and Joe stood transfixed as they kicked uptheir heels, and raced after one another like a group of schoolchildren, little suspecting that, before the sun went down the nextevening, many of them would be ridden by the Indians who were now gazingat them so covetously.

  Night seemed to be very slow in coming to the band of Pawnees, whosmoked and smoked incessantly, to pass the long hours before darknesswould invite the herd to seek its bed-ground. At last after dark, by thelight of the crescent moon, they saw the animals, led by the coal-blackstallion, cautiously walk into the timber about a mile from the Pawneecamp. When the neighing and pawing had ceased, the hunters wrappedthemselves in their blankets and buffalo robes, intending to be upbefore it was light, and surprise the herd before it was ready to go outto graze.

  The ponies were securely picketed, saddles, girths, and bridlesexamined, buffalo-hair lariats overhauled, and all made ready for anearly start on the hard day's ride.

  Long before the sun had showed the faintest indication of his coming;while the stars were still shining brilliantly, the Indians and Joe wereup, and hastily breakfasting, or taking their matutinal smoke. They thenmounted their ponies, and stealthily walked the animals in the directionof the slumbering bunch of wild horses.

  When they had arrived within a few hundred yards of the place where thehandsome creatures were still unconsciously resting, one of the Indiansand Joe, who was as good as the best man among them, dismounted andcrawled forward in the brush to reconnoitre. They returned in a fewmoments and reported to White Wolf that all was quiet, not a singlehorse's ear had they seen pricked up, so the animals had not as yet beenwarned of danger.

  White Wolf then gave his orders, making such disposition of his forcesas would cause the herd to be surrounded when the warriors hadapproached near enough to use their lassoes. So quietly did the poniesdo their duty, that when the herd was awakened to hear and see theirenemies almost upon them, the lassoes of several of the warriors haddone their work.

  As the others bounded away with astonishing speed, out of the timber andover the prairie, a spirited chase commenced. The Pawnees urged theirponies to their greatest capacity, the manes and tails of the wildhorses in front were flying wildly in the air, while their hoofs werebeating the hard sod, showing how tightly strung were the muscles of thefrightened animals.

  The Pawnees were obviously gaining upon the fugitives, quick-footedthough they were. The chief came up with the leader, the splendid blackstallion, and began to swing his lasso around his head, graduallyenlarging the circles by permitting the rough buffalo-rope to slipgently through his fingers. A sudden movement at the same instantplunged the stallion into an increased speed, when, White Wolf thumpingthe flanks of his mettlesome pony, it dashed quickly forward, and thePawnee threw his lariat with unerring skill around the neck of the blackhorse. The bunch was thrown into a panic, when the members of it sawtheir leader tumble to the ground, and wheeling round in their course,they were completely surrounded by their pursuers. At least ten werelassoed by the same number of Pawnees, including Joe, who had long agobecome an expert with the rope. The remainder of the bunch not yetcaught were kept together by the rest of the Indians, who werecontinually circling around them, so that not one escaped, and at theend of an hour the whole forty were lassoed, and tied fast by the legs.Some fifteen of them were not desirable animals, and these were turnedloose again.

  The business of breaking them in began when they had driven theremaining twenty-five to their camp down on the farther edge of thegrove. The frightened animals, notwithstanding their fetters of rawhide,kicked up the earth, shook their heavy manes, curved their necks, and,with eyes that seemed all afire, gazed tremblingly at their captors.

  As White Wolf wanted the black stallion for his own riding, he beganwith him. It took four of the stoutest Pawnees to hold the fierycreature by a long lasso; this had the effect of partial strangulation,which weakened and temporarily overcame the wonderful power of thespirited creature. Violent were his plunges as he tried to free himselffrom the grasp of his captors. His terrific leaps only served to drawthe lariat tighter around his neck; his breathing became more and moredifficult, and might have been heard for the eighth of a mile. His heartbeat as if it would burst from his heaving chest, and his veins stoodout in great ridges along his quivering flesh.

  At last, overwhelmed by his agony and fear, powerless with suffocation,he fell, and for an instant lay upon the ground without sense or motion.The lariat was immediately loosened around his neck, and asconsciousness returned to him, his already glazed eyes became brightagain, the fresh air dilated his nostrils, and his tremendous chest roseand fell.

  In ten minutes he was on his feet, but how different he appeared fromthe magnificent animal which had stood in all his native pride anddignity at the head of his band. He was weak, hardly able to stand, hisgreat head drooped, and his eyes were without that natural brilliancywhich had so markedly characterized them; he appeared only the ghost ofhis former self. Like a monarch who had been dragged from his throne,who has been scoffed at by those whom he had previously despised, he wasdestined to become the slave of man.

  As soon as the horse somewhat recovered from his exhaustion, he wasmounted by White Wolf, who kept his seat, notwithstanding the animal'sterrific efforts to throw him, and forced him to run round and round ina circle. If for a moment the horse showed the slightest manifestationof flagging or obstinacy, White Wolf would give him an awful blow overthe head with his heavy buffalo-hair rope. Gradually he became morepassive, and in less than half an hour from the time when the chief hadmounted him, he was declared broken, and was led away to be picketedwith the rest of the Indian ponies.

  The remaining twenty-four horses were all subjected to the same courseof discipline; some giving up in a few moments, others as obstinate aswas their leader. Before dark all had been sufficiently subdued to suita savage's idea of gentleness, and the party went to bed that nightelated over their wonderful success.

  The next morning they started for home, camping at the same place on theWalnut. From there to the Oxhide, they made two night halts instead ofone, as on their outward trip.

  Joe's share of the capture was three beautiful ponies. Under thediscipline of the kindness which always prevailed at Errolstrath, thesewere made in a few weeks almost as gentle as tame horses.