The Ranche on the Oxhide Part 17

The party on the porch at Errolstrath watched the herd and hunters until nothing but a cloud of dust could be seen far in the distance, yet the yelling of the p.a.w.nees could still be faintly heard long after the buffalo had vanished from sight.

By noon, Indians and whites slowly retraced their course down to the creek bottom, the p.a.w.nees going to their camp, the soldiers to the fort, and the boys, Joe and Rob, home.

"How many of the buffalo were killed after all that terrible yelling and shooting?" asked their mother.

"Well, not nearly as many as ought to have been," answered Joe. "I never saw such a mixed-up mess in all my life. Enough cartridges were used to have killed five hundred, but the men from the fort were as excited as the buffalo, and they didn't hit an animal once in a hundred shots, and then when they did, half the time the ball struck them where it had no more effect than if you had hit them with a stick!

"The p.a.w.nees killed more than all the others; they got twenty-five, and have gone to camp for ponies to pack the meat on. I don't think that fifty buffaloes were killed in all. I got two, both of 'em cows, and I must take the wagon out and haul 'em in. We will have enough meat to last us a long while, but we shall have to smoke most of it."

"Where did the herd go?" inquired Kate.

"Most of the animals kept right on toward the east, while some of them turned round and travelled south. I suspect that the settlers on Plum Creek flats will have a good time with them, as a part of the herd that went south was headed for there. I tell you," continued Joe, "you've got to keep a clear head on your shoulders when you go after buffalo. Most of those fellows from Fort Harker are recruits, and are fresh from the East; they never saw a buffalo before, and I don't wonder they were excited."

"I never saw so many rattlesnakes," said Rob, "as I did on that big stony prairie where we killed the majority of the buffalo. I guess I counted fifty if I did one. I think that the stamping of the buffalo must have frightened them out of their holes."

"It's very lucky that the rattlesnakes out here are not so venomous as those back East," said Mrs. Thompson; "more than twenty persons have been bitten by them in the neighborhood since we've lived here, and a little whiskey soon cures it."

"Do you remember, Gert," said Kate, "when you nearly sat down on one that was curled up on that stump you were going to take for a seat in the woods last autumn, and he rattled just in time?"

"I guess I do," answered her sister. "There's one thing I like about a rattlesnake: he always gives you good warning that he is around. He doesn't ever take you unawares, like some animals, a bull dog for instance, that says nothing, and takes hold of you before you know it."

"Their skins make pretty belts and hatbands," said Rob. "The cowboys on the big cattle ranches kill hundreds of them while they are out herding, and tan the skins to put around their hats. I saw a whole set of jewelry that was made out of the rattles and mounted with gold wire. One of the boys was going to send it to Texas to his sister."

"Well, they may be odd," said Mrs. Thompson, "but I certainly shouldn't like to wear them."

"I like the furs of animals better than anything for ornament, either to wear or to have in my room," said Kate. "I guess it would make a city girl envious to see my chamber with all its beautiful skins that Joe and Rob have given me. One of these days I mean to have papa send some of those otter and beaver skins to Kansas City, and get them made up into a cape and m.u.f.f."

"He will," said her mother. "I was telling your father only the other day when we were up in your room, that it was a pity so many magnificent skins should be tacked around the walls, and lying on the floor, just for ornament, when there are enough there to make us all a set of winter furs. He said he would send them off in a few days, so I think you will have your wish gratified before long."

The boys were sent with the wagon to bring back the meat of the two cows that Joe had killed, and about noon they returned. The robes were very fine ones. Joe asked the p.a.w.nees to tan them for him, and when they were finished, which would be in about a week, he intended to make them a present to his father and mother for their bedroom.

The buffalo meat was cut up that evening, by Mr. Thompson, and on the next day was smoked with corn-cobs, which are always used for that purpose out West.

While getting the meat ready, Mr. Thompson told the boys that he wouldn't be at all surprised if, when they wanted buffalo again, they would have to go miles away for them, as the country was becoming so thickly settled that the herds might never come as far east as the Oxhide. "Of course," continued he, "the antelope will remain with us a long time yet, but even they will become scarcer each year, and then they, too, will disappear, for it seems that the great ruminants of the plains cannot live with the white man as they can with the savages. The latter have no permanent home, but congregate in temporary villages in the winter, and as soon as spring opens, they are off again, living on horseback and depending upon the chase for their existence. It has ever been so with the Indian since the landing of the Pilgrims, in 1620. The white man has dogged their footsteps as they themselves follow the deer.

One of the facetious old bishops of New England, I forgot his name now, said: 'The Puritans, when they landed on Plymouth Rock, first fell upon _their knees_, and then upon the _aboriginees_!' It appears to be the fate of the red men to vanish before the onward march of the whites."

"I feel sorry for the Indians, father," said Joe. "I tell you it would have made you almost weep to hear White Wolf, that night we camped on the Walnut, relate in his sorrowful manner how powerful his tribe once was, before the white man took their lands away from them."

"I have a warm spot in my heart for the Indian," said Mr. Thompson, "but it is their fate, I suppose, and cannot be helped. You cannot civilize the old ones, and the only hope is in taking the rising generation away from their tribal affiliations when young, and teaching them to live like the whites."

CHAPTER XIX

THE INDIAN HORSE-RACE--KATE'S PONY WINS--THE TRADE WITH THE p.a.w.nEES--THE DANCES AT NIGHT--THE INDIANS SAY GOOD BY TO THE FAMILY--n.o.bLE ACTION OF WHITE WOLF

THE p.a.w.nees having remained on the Oxhide much longer than in any previous season, they began to make preparations for departure. Joe asked the chief to give a dance with his warriors at the ranche, for his parents and his sisters to see how the Indians enjoy themselves.

White Wolf said he would be sure to do so the night before they left.

To-morrow, they were going to have a horse-race, and, should his father be willing, they would use that long, level stretch of prairie between the house and the creek. It was a distance of about four miles, the usual length of a race-course with the Indians.

White Wolf said that the wagers would be ten horses, and that if Young Panther wanted to bet, he would make one with him. Joe replied that neither he nor his father approved of betting, but that both of them dearly loved to see horses run. "If I believed in betting, though," said Joe to the chief, "I would bet that my sister's pony, Ginger, can outrun any pony you have." The chief smiled, and told Joe that if he would not bet, he might ride that pony in the race, and if he came out ahead, then he would know whether his sister's animal was the fastest. Joe agreed to it, and when he returned to Errolstrath he obtained Kate's permission to ride Ginger in the race the following day. Mr. Thompson had readily given his consent to the Indians to use the trail in front of the house as a race-course.

Joe went down to the camp that evening and told the warriors that they might have the use of the course. White Wolf then said: "We will be up there by the time the sun is so high," pointing with his hand to where the sun would be at eight o'clock.

"All right," replied Joe; "we will be ready for you. The folks can sit on the porch and see the whole length of the course. Be sure to come promptly."

When Joe returned to the ranche, he announced that he wanted to get up very early in the morning, and as Rob was always the first one in the house out of bed, he asked him to call him the moment he awoke.

Rob, as usual, was out before sunrise. He promptly called his brother, who lost no time in dressing, washing at the spring, and going out to the pasture to catch Ginger. He led him to the corral, gave him a most vigorous currying, after which he fed the pony an extra ration of oats, to give him heart for the race.

Shortly after breakfast was out of the way, Kate, who was on the veranda, feeding the mocking-birds, came rushing into the sitting-room, crying, "The p.a.w.nees are coming; I can hear their tom-toms beating; they will soon be here!"

All the family went out, and sure enough, there were the Indians all dressed up in feathers, and painted in every imaginable savage manner.

White Wolf had a row of white dots on one cheek, flanked on each side by a streak of vermilion, while the other was green and blue. He had on a war bonnet with eagle feathers sticking in it around the upper edge, making it look like a grotesque crown. Down his back dragged a long trail of buffalo hair plaited into his own, and at every few inches for its whole length (it reached the ground when he walked) there were fastened bright metal disks nearly as big as the top of a tomato can.

Around his wrists were a dozen or more bra.s.s rings, and on his bare ankles he wore as many rings of the same material. He had an embroidered buffalo robe thrown gracefully over his shoulders, half concealing his coat of beaded buckskin. His leggings were of the same stuff, and were also gayly decorated with colored porcupine quills deftly woven in them.

The other warriors were similarly dressed and painted, but wore only one eagle feather in their bonnets, which was the distinguishing feature between them and their chief.

Following the warriors were the boys of the band, each riding a pony, and leading others which had been wagered on the race.

The race animals were ridden by their owners, and came after all the others; among them was the wild coal-black stallion that White Wolf had captured on the Cimarron. He looked like himself now, as he proudly pranced along, his mouth frothing as he champed on his rawhide bit, and his neck arched as he stepped like a thoroughbred over buffalo-gra.s.s turf leading to the house.

Several of the warriors had tom-toms in front of them, which they were beating vigorously with a stick as they rode proudly along. The tom-toms, or drums, are made of tanned buffalo hide stretched over a willow hoop, and the sound resembles that of a drum, but as the pounding is simply a continuous series of strokes without any variation, it is not music, but a very monotonous noise.

When the band had arrived at the house the Indians dismounted, and after a series of "Hows?"--their customary salutation--to the family on the veranda, they dismounted and began to converse among themselves in an excited manner. Presently one of the warriors started on a run toward the creek. He soon returned with some sticks, and then he and another warrior began to mark out the course.

This took them some time, and while they were at the work, the boys who were to ride the race began to cinch up their buffalo-hide saddles, and prepare themselves for the impending struggle.

Joe was already prancing about on Ginger, and he could hardly hold the spirited little beast, so anxious was it to be off, as if it perfectly understood the meaning of all the preparations. The Indian ponies, too, seemed to enter into the spirit of the thing, for they also commenced to cavort around, and it was with much difficulty that their riders could restrain them from bolting down the track.

At last everything was in readiness, the animals in place, Joe on the outside of the four who were to run. The animals were all jumping up and down, stiff-legged, and bucking with all their strength to throw their riders.

In a few moments White Wolf gave the signal, and away they darted like meteors. Ginger kept his place well, the black stallion leading for the first half-mile until a big roan of one of the warriors took the lead; then Ginger made a dash ahead. For a moment it was nip and tuck which would keep the lead, but when the second mile was half run, the animals began to show their powers of endurance. Some flagged, others were far behind, and Ginger and the roan were going relatively slower; when all at once, just as the home stretch was reached, Ginger took a spurt and seeming to gain his second wind, like a pugilist in the ring, came in forty feet in advance of the roan, the black stallion twenty feet behind him. The other ponies were so far away, that if they had been running on a white man's course they would have been declared "distanced."

Such a shout went up from the veranda of the house, where the family were sitting, as they saw Ginger dash ahead, and Joe caught the sound of it as the wind wafted the paean of victory to his ears.

White Wolf was disappointed in the result. He thought that his black horse had great powers of endurance, and as soon as they were a.s.sembled in front of the veranda, he offered Kate five of the best and youngest of his horses in exchange for Ginger. Kate hesitated for a moment, but considering that Ginger was now nearly eight years old, and after consulting with her father and Joe, she decided to make the swap.

As the chief owned the roan that had really won the race,--Ginger being a mere outsider just to test Joe's belief that he was the fastest animal,--White Wolf was, in fact, the winner, and took the ten ponies that were wagered.

With the a.s.sistance of her father and brothers, Kate selected five of the best and youngest of the chief's bunch, including the roan. The Indians then returned to their camp, promising to come up that evening and give a series of dances, as they intended to start for their reservation the next morning.

After they had left the front of the house, and Joe had taken the five new ponies to the corral, he told Kate that he would now let her have Cheyenne back, and he would take the roan, as the latter was too large a horse for her to ride. Kate agreed readily to the proposition, so she once more owned the little animal that had brought her so safely from the Indian village.

When the family had finished their supper, Joe and Rob, with a team of work horses, dragged several large logs from the creek to the front of the house to make a big bonfire, for the p.a.w.nee dance.