CHAPTER X
A Townful of Indians: with how I hide the Cow, and think of Somethingwhich I don't believe the Indians will like.
When I saw what my visitors were I do not know if I was relieved ormore frightened. I saw that I need no longer worry about the safebeing robbed, but that seemed to be almost the only thing in theirfavor over the Pike gang. I knew, of course, that they had no illfeeling against me, and probably had no intention of harming any one;but, on the other hand, I well understood that if I should appear andtry to stop their plundering the town they would not hesitate to killme. By their dress I recognized them as Sioux from the Bois CacheReservation, fifty or seventy-five miles north, because I had seensome of them during the fall while they were on their way to visitsome of their relatives a hundred or more miles south at the BruleAgency. I supposed they were going for another such visit, and hadblundered on the town. These Bois Cache Indians I knew were a bad lot;many of them had been with Little Crow in the great Sioux Massacre inMinnesota in 1862, when hundreds of settlers were killed.
They came directly to the pile of things near their horses, and putdown the rope; and then they started off in all directions looking formore plunder. Two of them came to the depot and walked about on theplatform over my head. I flattened out on the ground and scarcelybreathed, expecting every minute that they would look under. I heardthem talking and trying the windows. I thought they were going away;then there was a sound of breaking glass, and I heard them trampingabout inside. Then they came out and went over to the pile again. Ipeeped out and saw that they had the two Winchesters which I hadhidden in the depot. Another came from the town with a shot-gun whichhe had found somewhere. I had no doubt that they would find and carryoff every weapon there was, and leave me with nothing except the smallrevolver which I had in my pocket.
For an hour I lay there under the platform watching the Indiansplunder the town. They already had much more in their pile than theycould possibly carry away with the horses they had. Suddenly I sawthat their plan most likely was to get everything they wanted togetherin the open square and then to burn the town, carry off what theycould, and come back after the rest later on. Of course this put me ina great fright, but, though I racked my brain as never before, I couldthink of no way to prevent it.
Soon I heard a great pounding, and suspected that they were breakinginto the Headquarters barn, which I always kept locked, just out offorce of habit. In another minute I knew I was right, as I heard aloud squawking of the chickens. Up from the direction of the barn andhigh over the roofs of the town I suddenly saw a bird soar, which Itook to be a prairie chicken, or some sort of game bird, though whereit came from I could not guess. Then, as it lit on the chimney of theblacksmith shop, and began a great cackling, I saw that it was onlyCrazy Jane. I could not help laughing, in spite of my troubles, andsaid out loud, "Ah, it takes somebody smarter than an Indian to catchher!"
THE BOIS CACHE INDIANS LOOTING THE TOWN ON CHRISTMAS DAY]
The sight of Crazy Jane and the sharp way she outwitted the savagesdid me good and made me wonder if I could not do as well; still Icould think of nothing. Just then the Indians came out with the otherchickens in grain-sacks, and leading Dick and Ned and Blossom. Thehorses they stood with their own, but I was horrified to see that theyacted as if they were going to butcher the cow. One of them pointed agun at her head and another began to flourish a knife. It looked as ifthey had got it into their savage heads that they wanted fresh beefand were going to slaughter the poor animal on the spot.
To watch these preparations was, I think, the hardest thing I had tobear that day. She was a patient, gentle heifer, and I could not bearto think of seeing her butchered by a lot of villainous savages withless intelligence than she had herself. If I had had a gun or any fitweapon, I verily believe that I should have rushed out and defendedher. But just before they began, one of their number came out ofFitzsimmons's store and called to them, and they all trotted over.The store was on the east side of the street.
At the instant that the last of them disappeared in the door I rolledout from under the platform and began to hobble across the square. Myintention was to get behind the stores on the west side of the street;and I had a wild notion of saving the cow in some way, I did not knowhow. It was a foolhardy thing to do, but I got behind the first storewithout being seen. But I was no nearer the cow, who was a little waysfrom the side of Fitzsimmons's, and I dared not go there. She saw me,however, and I held out my hand and said, "Come, bossy!" and she cameover. I took her by the horn and led her along behind the buildings,knowing no more than a fool what I should do with her. Just then Icame to the sloping outside cellar-door behind a store. The Indianshad cleaned the snow off of it, but had not succeeded in getting in,as it was fastened with a padlock. I tried my keys. One of them openedit. The stairs were not steep, and I led the cow down and closed thedoor above us. The Indians had walked and ridden everywhere in thesquare and back of the stores, so I thought it would be hard for themto follow the cow's tracks. Nevertheless, the next moment I hurriedback and with an old broom brushed lightly our trail behind thebuildings; then returned to the cellar.
I rested a few minutes till my ankle felt better, then I crept up theinside stairs to the store and peeped out the front window. Four orfive of the Indians were standing where the cow had been, looking inall directions. After a while they all went back into Fitzsimmons'sstore and I slipped down and out the door by which I had got in,locked it, and made my way behind the buildings to the bank and wentin. Here the Indians had not disturbed anything, there being nothingto their taste; but when I looked out a crack in the boards over thewindow I saw the whole eleven of them at the end of the street holdinga powwow over the disappearance of their fresh beef. I thought itwould be a good time to test my great pet, the tunnel, so I hobbledboldly through and entered the hotel.
The first thing I saw was Pawsy in her old place over the dining-roomdoor. She did not seem to like Indians any better than she didwolves. Everything which had not been carried off was in the greatestconfusion. The Winchester which had been under the counter was gone. Istood with my crutch looking at the wreck, when, without hearing asound, I saw the knob of the front door turn and the door push open.With one bound like a cat I went through the open door of the closetunder the stairs.
I had no time to close the door, and stood there pressed against thewall and trying not to tremble. It was dark in the closet, and thatwas my only hope. Three of the Indians filed by. They all woremoccasins, and their step was noiseless. They were talking, and passedon through into the kitchen and outdoors. I think they were lookingfor the cow, and took this as the best way to get to the barn. Ipressed back farther in the closet and waited. Soon they came back,and again passed me, and went on out of the front door. I got out andcrawled up-stairs, thinking to find a better hiding-place and wishingheartily that I was back under the platform. I looked out of an upperwindow and saw them all at the farther end of the street again.By-and-by they went into Fitzsimmons's store.
Though I did not take my eyes off the store for two hours I saw nomore of the Indians, and by this time it was so dark that I could nolonger see them if they did come out. I began to hear a strange noise,and opened the window slightly and listened. It was the Indiansshouting and singing. Then it dawned upon me that they had found thewhiskey and that they were all getting drunk in Fitzsimmons's cellar.
This, of course, gave me a new cause of dread, for, if a sober Indianis bad, a drunken one is a thousand times worse. I felt sure that theywould now set the town on fire through accident even if they did notintend to do so. The fiendish howling constantly grew worse and wassoon almost as bad as that of the wolves ever was. I still could thinkof nothing to remedy matters. By this time it was pitch-dark. Idetermined to have a look at them, anyhow. It occurred to me thatprobably they had begun at the whiskey before the cow disappeared, andthat this had helped to make their search unsuccessful.
I went down and out the back door of the hotel
and crept along therear of the buildings till I came to Fitzsimmons's. The yelling andwhooping of those savages was something blood-curdling to hear. Therewas a window for lighting the cellar close to the ground in the rearfoundation-wall. A wide board stood in front of it, but I dug the snowaway, pushed this board a little to one side, and looked in. Theyseemed to be having a free fight, and many of them were covered withblood. A smoking kerosene lamp stood on a box, and around this theysurged and fought and howled. As I looked the lamp was knocked to thefloor and blazed up. One of the Indians fell on it and smothered theflames, and the struggling and diabolical yelling went on in thedark.
As suddenly as the plan of making the skee sled had flashed upon mecame another plan for driving every Indian out of town. I jumped upand ran away as fast as a poor crutch and a leg and a half could carryme.