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THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 A Story of the Time of Custer , 
 
"INDIAN" STORIES 
 WITH HISTORICAL BASES 
 
 By D. LANGE 
 
 12mo Cloth Illustrated 
 
 ON THE TRAIL OF THE SIOUX 
 
 THE SILVER ISLAND OF THE 
 CHIPPEWA 
 
 LOST IN THE FUR COUNTRY 
 
 IN THE GREAT WILD NORTH 
 
 THE LURE OF THE BLACK HILLS 
 
 THE LURE OF THE MISSISSIPPI 
 
 THE SILVER CACHE OF THE PAWNEE 
 
 THE SHAWNEE'S WARNING 
 
 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON 
 
Joe bushed at the Sioux. — Page 80. 
 
THE THREAT OF 
 SITTING BULL 
 
 A STORY OF THE TIME OF CUSTER 
 
 BY 
 
 D. LANGE 
 
 AUTHOR OF "ON THE TRAIL OF THE SIOUX," '* THE SILVER 
 
 ISLAND OF THE CHIPPEWA," " THE SILVER CACHE OF 
 
 THE PAWNEE," .''THE SHAWNEE'S WARNING," ETC. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY CHARLES E. MEJSTER 
 
 BOSTON 
 LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 
 
Published, November, 1920 
 
 Copyright^. 1920^ . 
 , ' .'By D^. Lange' \. 
 
 I'Hg' X)^eat}of ^ittiri^'iSall 
 
 IRorwooO press 
 
 BERWICK & SMITH CO. 
 
 Norwood, Mass. 
 
 U. S. A. 
 
L 2 7v 
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 The Sioux, or Dakotas, were the largest 
 and most warlike nation of the northern 
 Plains Indians. 
 
 Originally friendly to the whites, they be- 
 came restless and even hostile before the 
 beginning of the Civil War, when white set- 
 tlers began to encroach upon their fertile 
 lands in Iowa and Minnesota. 
 
 When in 1862 only a few regulars were 
 left at the frontier posts, and when thou- 
 sands of young farmers and men in the 
 to^^Tis had been called east, the Sioux, under 
 Little Crow, attempted to regain all their 
 lands west of the Mississippi. About 800 
 white people were killed in this outbreak. 
 
 This was the first of a series of wars \^dth 
 the Sioux, which culminated in the cam- 
 paigns against the Western Sioux in 1876. 
 
 The most famous battle in all our Indian 
 wars was fought between United States sol- 
 diers, under General Custer, and the brave 
 
 7 
 
 '^68 
 
S FOEEWORD 
 
 Sioux warriors on the Little Big Horn in 
 Montana on June 25th, 1876. 
 
 The different tribes of Sioux are now liv- 
 ing peaceably on reservations in the two 
 Dakotas and Montana, with some as farmers 
 in Minnesota. The total number at present 
 is about 28,000. 
 
 The extermination of the buffaloes com- 
 pelled all the Plains Indians to travel the 
 " white man's road." 
 
 Our present story plays in the stirring 
 years of 1875 and 1876. There were still 
 many buffaloes, elk, bighorn, and antelopes 
 west of the Missouri, but the Northern 
 Pacific Railroad had already reached the 
 Missouri, while steamboats ran up this river 
 as far as Fort Benton in the present State of 
 Montana. 
 
 In the battles fought against Generals 
 
 Crook, Custer, and Miles, the Sioux made a 
 
 last desperate attempt to stem the invading 
 
 tide of the white race. 
 
 D. Lange. 
 
 St. Paul, Minnesota, 
 June, 1920. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. 
 
 Sioux Scouts .... 
 
 13 
 
 II. 
 
 Horses and Indians . 
 
 20 
 
 III. 
 
 Unguarded Mules 
 
 30 
 
 IV. 
 
 Are You Game ? . . . 
 
 40 
 
 V. 
 
 The Dispute . . . . 
 
 4S 
 
 VI. 
 
 The Wit.d Plains 
 
 53 
 
 VII. 
 
 At Bay 
 
 63 
 
 VIII. 
 
 A Terrible Day 
 
 72 
 
 IX. 
 
 Minnewaukan . . . . 
 
 85 
 
 X. 
 
 A Bad Night 
 
 . 95 
 
 XI. 
 
 The Temptation 
 
 . 115 
 
 XII. 
 
 Cactus Pete 
 
 . 122 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Worse Prospects 
 
 . 129 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Joe in Trouble . 
 
 . 137 
 
 XV. 
 
 Don at the Doctor's 
 
 . 143 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Winged Millions 
 
 . 152 
 
 XVII. 
 
 The Long Red Snake 
 
 . 163 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 GUACALOTE . . . • 
 
 . 174 
 
 XIX. 
 
 The Blizzard 
 
 . 187 
 
 XX. 
 
 The Wagon-Box Fight 
 
 . 195 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Strange Horse-Feed . 
 9 
 
 . 214 
 
10 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Unseen Danger . 
 
 222 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Scouting for Indians 
 
 . 234 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The Mountain on Fire 
 
 . 244 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Dangerous Neighbors 
 
 263 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 The Messengers 
 
 277 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Indians and Soldiers 
 
 289 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Sharp Eyes . . . . 
 
 299 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 The Lost Treasure . 
 
 313 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Too Many Trails 
 
 326 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Talk or Shoot ? . 
 
 . 332 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Caught in the Open . 
 
 • 348 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 To the Little Big Horn . 
 
 . 354 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Joe rushed at the Sioux. (Page 80) . Frontispiece 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 Every minute the wild uproar grew wilder . .108 
 
 Hank and Don were proud boys, indeed, when 
 
 they rode back to camp . . . .224 
 
 <<It was the best chance I ever had at any 
 
 Indians "....... 274 
 
 *' My tin box with the greenbacks for Father is 
 
 gone!" 320 
 
 They were at his side as quickly as the horses 
 
 could carry them 352 
 
 11 
 
The Threat of Sitting Bull 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 SIOUX SCOUTS 
 
 Washita Joe and his two boy companions 
 had at last reached the border of the Sioux 
 country. 
 
 The first Northern Pacific train of the 
 spring of 1875 had just arrived at Bismarck 
 on the Missouri, and Washita Joe, with 
 Hank Stamford and his younger brother 
 Don, had at once hurried to the bank of the 
 great river. 
 
 "Look, Joe, look!" exclaimed Don, 
 " there are tAvo Indians on horseback on the 
 prairie beyond the river! Who are they? 
 What are they looking for? " 
 
 " Sioux scouts. Scouts of Sitting Bull," 
 
 replied Joe without hesitation. " They have 
 
 come to see if the train brought anv more 
 
 13 
 
14 tHE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 ' long knives ' and surveyors to push the rail- 
 road into their country across the Missouri. 
 
 "A few years ago the Union Pacific was 
 built across the buffalo plains of the west- 
 ern Indians, and now the Northern Pacific 
 is projected across the buffalo range of the 
 Sioux nation in direct violation of the treaty 
 of 1868; and the Sioux object. 
 
 " You remember what the officer on the 
 train told of Sitting Bull's threat: ' If the 
 railroad is built, my people will fight.' He 
 has boldly told the soldiers and the repre- 
 sentatives of the government, and I think 
 Sitting Bull and the other Sioux chiefs, 
 Crazy Horse, Gall, and others, meant what 
 they said. 
 
 " Within a few days all the Sioux and 
 Cheyennes between the Missouri and Rocky 
 Mountains will know that the ' fire wagons ' 
 are running again to the Missouri River, and 
 their scouts will watch every move of the 
 surveyors west of the Missouri. And they 
 will report the doings of the soldiers at Fort 
 Lincoln on this river near Bismarck, of Gen- 
 eral Crook at Fort Fetterman on the Platte, 
 
SIOUX SCOUTS 15 
 
 and of Colonel Gibbon at Fort Ellis out 
 west on the Yellowstone. 
 
 " Well, boys, let us go back to town. I 
 suppose your appetite is ready for a good 
 supper. To-night we'll have a long sleep in 
 a bed that is not shaken by a rumbling train. 
 To-morrow we must buy horses for our long- 
 trip to Bozeman, Montana. It will be a 
 great trip of a thousand miles across these 
 northern plains. Boys, I am happy to see 
 the plains once more. Right glad I am that 
 I did not buy that little store in Boston." 
 
 "Will the Indians let us get through?" 
 asked Hank with some misgivings. " The 
 three of us couldn't fight very many Sioux." 
 
 The two scouts had by this time increased 
 to five, and like threatening outposts, they 
 stood silhouetted against the western sky. 
 
 " No, we cannot play the game the way 
 we did with Custer on the Washita. They 
 would get our hair in no time. We shall 
 have to play the game Indian fashion. 
 
 " But come along, boys. Let us find a 
 hotel, and after supper I shall do a little 
 scouting in town. ]Maybe the Sioux are not 
 
16 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 so warlike as the officers on the train told us. 
 Perhaps they will not trouble us, when they 
 see we are not soldiers or surveyors." 
 
 " DoLi't you think there may be a thou- 
 sand Indians just behind the hills? " asked 
 Don. " These five alone would not ride out 
 whei'e the soldiers might catch them." 
 
 "No, Don," Joe replied with a smile, 
 " these scouts are not afraid of the soldiers, 
 who might as well try to catch so many ante- 
 lopes. The Indians would scatter and dis- 
 appear into the broken country and wooded 
 ravines, where the soldiers would not dare to 
 follow." 
 
 " But, you caught the Cheyennes on the 
 Washita," objected Hank. 
 
 " That was different," explained Joe; 
 " Custer did something that had never been 
 done before. He made a rapid march 
 against their camp in midwinter, and took 
 them completely by surprise; but in spite of 
 that, they fought bravely. 
 
 " Some of us were pretty well scared, 
 when we discovered that there were several 
 other large camps on the Washita River be- 
 
SIOUX SCOUTS 17 
 
 low the camp of the Cheyennes. Almost 
 any other man would have lost his head, but 
 Custer didn't. He is a great Indian fighter. 
 When he saw the danger, he ordered the 
 band to strike up our favorite tune of 
 ' Garry Owen,' and we all fell in and rode 
 boldly forward toward the next camp. 
 That bold move umierved the Comanche, 
 Kiowa, and Arapaho warriors, and j^ou 
 should have seen them run! They thought 
 we were only the advance guard of a big 
 army. Had they known that we were only 
 a few hundred all told, they could have '^ 
 wiped us out. 
 
 " But I fear Custer will never catch the 
 Sioux in that manner. They are too wary. 
 They are also well armed and are the most 
 numerous and the bravest of all American 
 Indians. 
 
 " If all their warriors joined the hos tiles, 
 then Sitting Bull, Crazy Horse, and Gall 
 might have an army of five thousand fight- 
 ing men." 
 
 The three walked along in silence, and 
 Hank wondered if Uncle Reuben in Boston 
 
18 THE THKEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 would have let them go, if Joe had told him 
 about the formidable strength of the Sioux. 
 But Joe had not deceived Uncle Reuben, for 
 much of this information about the hostile 
 attitude of the Sioux he had gathered from 
 civilians and officers on the train between 
 St. Paul and Bismarck. 
 
 Suddenly a thundering boom rolled up 
 the river from Fort Lincoln, three miles 
 below. 
 
 " Listen," exclaimed Don with a startled 
 face. "Listen! The Indians and the sol- 
 diers are fighting now! The soldiers are 
 shooting at them with a cannon." 
 
 " No, no, Don! " Joe quieted the excitable 
 boy. " I should not have told you all this 
 about the Sioux. That is no battle gun we 
 heard just now. It is only the peaceful sun- 
 set gun of Fort Lincoln. It means that the 
 soldiers are through with their day's work. 
 
 " Let us go in here for supper. It looks 
 like a good place. You don't need to worry 
 about fighting Indians just yet." 
 
 Boiled buffalo tongue and a roast of fat 
 buffalo tenderloin with browned potatoes 
 
SIOUX SCOUTS 19 
 
 made Joe and his boys feel drowsy, and all 
 three of them went to bed early, Joe saying 
 that he would find out the next day what had 
 happened around Fort Lincoln and in the 
 Sioux country during the winter. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 HORSES AND INDIANS ' 
 
 Washita Joe was not a novice on the 
 plains and in the Indian country. He had 
 served some time with the garrison at Fort 
 Totten on Devil's Lake in the present State 
 of North Dakota. He had then been trans- 
 ferred to the famous Seventh United States 
 Cavalry and had been with Custer in the 
 great battle on the Washita River in the 
 present State of Oklahoma. 
 
 In this fight Custer surprised and de- 
 feated Chief Black Kettle's band of the 
 southern Cheyennes so severely that all the 
 tribes in that region learned to respect the 
 United States Government and to fear 
 Chief Long- Yellow-Hair and his cavalry. 
 The great fight took place late in November 
 of 1868. When, some years later, Joe's 
 
 term of enlistment expired, he returned to 
 
 20 
 
HORSES A^^D LN^DIA^S^S 21 
 
 his home town of Boston. He had told the 
 men of the regiment that he had seen enough 
 of Indians and adventure and intended to 
 settle down. 
 
 At the end of two years he was convinced 
 that he could never be happy again in the 
 East, and was glad to escort the two Stam- 
 ford lads to their father, who had established 
 himself in business at Bozeman in the pres- 
 ent State of ]Montana. 
 
 The Stamford boys had gro^TO up in the 
 family of an uncle, their mother having died 
 when the boys were very young. 
 
 The lads carried with them some impor- 
 tant papers and $10,000 in greenbacks, 
 which Stamford's Boston partners wished to 
 send to Bozeman. The papers and the 
 greenbacks were soldered up in a tin box, 
 which Hank generally carried on his person. 
 
 When Washita Joe was stationed at Fort 
 Totten, he heard much of Henry Plummer 
 and his gang of white robbers and cut- 
 throats who murdered the lone miners for 
 their gold dust, and committed hold-ups and 
 murders on the sta^e-coach routes between 
 
22 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 Western Montana and the Union Pacific 
 Railway, Denver, and Salt Lake City to the 
 south. 
 
 Later, while with Custer in the Seventh 
 Cavalry, he, like all the soldiers on the 
 plains, heard and read many tales of the in- 
 cessant fighting along the old Bozeman 
 Trail between Fort Laramie and Bozeman. 
 At Fort Phil Kearney, on this road, there 
 was constant fighting, and every soldier on 
 the plains in those days knew the story of the 
 terrible fight in the Wagon-Box Corral near 
 Fort Phil Kearney. This fort and others 
 along the trail had now been abandoned, and 
 the Bozeman Trail was closed by the hostile 
 Sioux, who threatened to kill every white 
 man that dared to enter their country. 
 
 It was for these reasons that Joe had 
 chosen a northern route to reach Bozeman. 
 
 " I know Indians and know the northern 
 plains," he had told Uncle Reuben, when he 
 and that gentleman were discussing routes, 
 " but I don't like the idea of being held up 
 and murdered by white cutthroats and road- 
 agents; though I guess the Vigilantes have 
 
HOKSES AKD IISTDIANS 23 
 
 caught and hanged most of them by this 
 time." 
 
 And now Joe and his two wards had 
 reached Bismarck, which was at that time 
 the western terminal of the Northern Pacific 
 Railway. 
 
 " If I live," Joe had told Uncle Reuben, 
 " I will take the boys through and deliver 
 them and their tin box safely to their father 
 at Bozeman." 
 
 The boys would not listen at all to going 
 into INIontana by railway and stage routes, 
 after Joe had told them that they might go 
 on horseback, by way of the northern plains, 
 and that on this route they would surely see 
 real living wild buffaloes, antelope, moun- 
 tain sheep, deer and elk, and wild Indians; 
 not the kind of which there were a few strag- 
 glers still in New England, or the kind that 
 Cooper tells about, but the real wild kind, 
 which Joe had fought on the Washita. 
 
 Under promise of strict secrecy, Joe had 
 shown the boys a scalp, a real Indian scalp, 
 which he Had brought as a trophy from the 
 campaign. How he had come by it he would 
 
24 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 not tell, but Don was sure that it was the 
 scalp of Chief Black Kettle, whom Joe had 
 killed in a hand-to-hand fight. 
 
 There was no holding the boys after this. 
 They induced Uncle Reuben to let them 
 take riding lessons and to let them go to the 
 rooms of a gun club for rifle and revolver 
 practice. So eagerly did they enter into this 
 line of schooling that even Joe was surprised 
 to see how quickly they learned to handle 
 both horses and guns. 
 
 The masters in the old Roxbury Latin 
 School, which the lads attended, could at 
 first not understand why the bright Stam- 
 ford lads had suddenly become so dull in 
 Greek and Latin. 
 
 " That stuff won't do us any good on the 
 plains," Don protested, when the more con- 
 scientious Hank urged him to study. " I 
 want to learn Sioux; that may save our 
 lives." 
 
 The boys had already learned the few 
 Sioux words and phrases which Joe remem- 
 bered, and now they had borrowed at the 
 Public Library a Sioux dictionary^ which the 
 
HOKSES AND INDIANS 25 
 
 Rev. Stephen R. Riggs, missionary among 
 the Sioux in Minnesota, had published some 
 twenty years before in one of those formi- 
 dable-looking Smithsonian Contributions to 
 Knowledge. 
 
 " Hank, we can learn a lot of that by 
 heart," urged Don. " Joe can pick out the 
 words we need to know. Sioux words are 
 not half so hard as the beastly Greek verbs." 
 
 "Are you going to be a missionary, little 
 boy? " a mild-looking lady had asked Don, 
 when he called for the big book at the Boston 
 Public Library. 
 
 "No, ma'am," Don had answered proudly, 
 " I'm going to enlist in the United States 
 Cavalry of Chief Long- Yellow-Hair, as soon 
 as I'm old enough." 
 
 Before Joe and his wards left Boston, 
 Don had promised to send a real Indian 
 scalp to seven of his boy friends, and Hank 
 had vowed to write to Rachel Burnham and 
 send her a pair of beaded moccasins. 
 
 It was broad daylight when Don awoke in 
 the hotel at Bismarck. 
 
26 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 " Hank, get up! " he called. " We have 
 to help Joe buy horses and pack our stuff," 
 
 By the time the lads had eaten their break- 
 fast, Joe had already made the rounds of all 
 the livery barns and sales stables in town, 
 and had taken a look at a hundred horses. 
 
 ** There is a fine white mare," Don pointed 
 out as they looked at a herd of ponies and 
 ranch horses in an open corral. " Buy that 
 mare for me, Joe," he whispered, " if she is 
 not over a hundred dollars ! " 
 
 " That mare? " Joe asked with a friendly 
 laugh. *' Don, I wouldn't take her as a 
 gift-!" 
 
 " Why wouldn't you? I feel sure that 
 she is a fine saddle-horse. She is built just 
 like the finest horses in the riding-school." 
 
 " Yes, she is built all right," Joe admitted. 
 " But she is white, and she is a grain horse. 
 We take nothing but bays, and blacks or 
 very dark grays. No whites or calicoes; 
 and they must all be grass horses. 
 
 "An Indian would see a white or calico 
 horse ten miles off," Joe explained. "And 
 we can use nothing but grass horses, animals 
 
HORSES AND INDIANS 21 
 
 that are used to pick their feed at night, be- 
 cause we cannot carry oats or corn." 
 
 It took Joe the better part of the day to 
 select six horses, three for saddle-horses, and 
 three for packers and extras. 
 
 "They are sure a scrawny-looking bunch," 
 remarked Don, as they took the troop out on 
 the road to try them out. " Our ridmg- 
 master would call them ghosts. Believe me, 
 Hank, they will play out before we get five 
 miles out of town." 
 
 But Don soon changed his mind. They 
 were all good travellers, they were not afraid 
 of water, none of them was gun-shy, and Joe 
 said they were all trained buffalo-hunters. 
 Although the men rode them hard for about 
 twelve miles, not one of them showed a wet 
 hair on his body. 
 
 " Don't we want a good hunting dog? " 
 suggested Hank. 
 
 " I don't know, boys," Joe answered. 
 " He is likely to make us more trouble than 
 he is worth. He is pretty sure to get his 
 feet full of cactus spines, and we shall not 
 need a dog to find game. On the other 
 
28 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 hand, if he barks or starts to run game, he 
 will betray us to any roving war party of 
 Indians; so I think we had better do without 
 him." 
 
 " But Long- Yellow-Hair always takes 
 hunting dogs with him," argued Don. 
 " You told us yourself." 
 
 " I know he does," Joe admitted. " But 
 you must remember that Custer has a regi- 
 ment of cavalry with him. He does not 
 have to be afraid of small Indian war parties, 
 but we are likely to have trouble enough with 
 the rascals as it is. 
 
 " I hear that the whole tribe is in a very 
 ugly mood, and most of the young warriors 
 are openly hostile. Two of their big war 
 chiefs, Crazy Horse and Gall, would not 
 even sign the treaty of 1868." 
 
 "Crazy Horse!" remarked Hank. 
 " What queer names the Indians have." 
 
 " They do sound strange," replied Joe, 
 " but they always have a meaning. The 
 whites often mistranslate the names. Crazy 
 Horse should really be Wild Horse. 
 
 " I have no doubt that Sitting Bull, Rain- 
 
HOESES AND INDIANS 29 
 
 in-the-Face, Black Moon, and Two Strikes 
 all refer to some incident, which the Indians 
 remember and understand." 
 
 "Did the Indians give you a name?" 
 asked Don. 
 
 "Yes, they did," Joe told laughing. 
 " You have noticed the scar on my forehead. 
 The incident that gave me the scar also 
 earned me a new name. One of the boys in 
 my company had gotten the best of me in a 
 horse deal by trading a wild, hard-mouthed 
 animal off on me. One day in the presence 
 of our Indian scouts and some Kiowa pris- 
 oners, the beast suddenly shied at something, 
 and threw me, and I landed with my head on 
 a rock. When I scrambled to my feet, half 
 dazed and with the blood running over my 
 face, the rascals all roared. If one is not 
 killed or badly hurt, Indians as well as sol- 
 diers show no mercy to a man, who has met 
 a mishap. 
 
 "*He-Knocks-His-Head!' one of them 
 called out, and after that they never called 
 me by any other name." 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 UNGUARDED MULES 
 
 The boys were impatient to start, but Joe 
 was in no hurry to get away. He said he 
 thought he wanted to get a little more in- 
 formation about his Sioux friends. The 
 boys might get on their horses, and put in 
 the day visiting Fort Lincoln. But he ad- 
 vised them to look sharp about, and they 
 must get back in daylight. 
 
 What Joe learned that day did not add to 
 his peace of mind. 
 
 He talked very little while he had supper 
 with his boys, and seemed but little inter- 
 ested in the many strange things which the 
 boys had seen at Fort Lincoln. 
 
 It was not till all three had gone to their 
 rooms and Joe had lit his pipe that he be- 
 gan to talk freely. 
 
 " I am afraid, boys," he started, " we are 
 
 in for a hot trip. In fact, I don't know if 
 
 30 
 
UNGUARDED MULES 31 
 
 we ought to go on. It kind of looks to me 
 as if we had better go back to St. Paul and 
 then try that stage route from the Union 
 Pacific after all." 
 
 " Have the Sioux gone to war? Won't 
 they let us get thr 'Ugh? " the boj^s asked. 
 
 " No, they have not exactly gone to war," 
 Joe explained after a brief silence, " because 
 no troops or surveyors have yet entered 
 their country this spring; but they have been 
 fighting the soldiers and all white men dur- 
 ing the last two years. 
 
 "And the worst of it is that the Indians 
 are within their rights, and they know it. 
 Soldiers and railroad surveyors and pros- 
 pectors have no right to be in the Sioux 
 country under the treaty of 1868. I do not 
 understand why President Grant does not 
 see that. I think the country is in for the 
 worst Indian war in our history." And Joe 
 smoked for a while in glum silence. 
 
 " Where will the war be? " Hank asked, 
 frying to understand just what Joe had in 
 mind. 
 
 " It makes me mad," Joe resumed his 
 
32 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 story, " the way the Indian Department and 
 the whole government is muddling things. 
 It is a plain rotten outrage. Treaties are 
 not kept, the soldiers are sent here and there, 
 and the Indian agents sell to the angry In- 
 dians all the guns and ammunition they 
 want. When the crash comes, those In- 
 dians will be better armed than the soldiers. 
 Grant was a good soldier, but a lot of greedy 
 politicians are too much for him. Well, it's 
 no use. The more I think and talk about 
 it, the madder I get." 
 
 "I don't understand just what you mean," 
 Hank remarked. 
 
 " I'll try, boys, to make it clear to you," 
 Joe continued, almost breaking his pipe as 
 
 he knocked out the ashes. " It's a 
 
 Well, it's a rotten shame! But I will make 
 the story short. 
 
 " General Stanley and Custer were sent 
 in here — I mean into the Sioux country in 
 '73, that is, two years ago. They marched 
 after the Indians up the Yellowstone River 
 as far as the mouth of the Big Horn. They 
 had some skirmishes with the Indians. A 
 
UNGUARDED MULES 33 
 
 few soldiers were killed and wounded, and, 
 no doubt, a few Indians were killed. Then 
 the Indians withdrew into the wild country- 
 south of the Yellowstone, and the soldiers 
 marched back east to Stanley's Stockade and 
 to Fort Lincoln. 
 
 " Then, last summer, that is, in '74, Gen- 
 eral Sheridan orders Custer to explore the 
 Black Hills with his cavalry. Custer, of 
 course, had to go. He did the job well and 
 reported to the Secretary of War. The re- 
 sult is that thousands of gold-seekers have 
 rushed into the Black Hills. 
 
 " But the bad mess of it all is that neither 
 the soldiers nor the prospectors had any 
 right to enter the Black Hills. It is Sioux 
 country, reserved to them by a solemn 
 treaty ! 
 
 " Now the government is trying to keep 
 the gold-hunters out, but they can't do it. 
 It would take the whole United States army 
 to keep them out. 
 
 " The Indians, of course, believe that the 
 white people do not intend to keep that 
 treaty. 
 
34 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 "And what has the army accomplished by 
 marching troops here and there, and back 
 and forth in the Indian country? They have 
 angered the Indians and have made them 
 think that they themselves are better fighters 
 than the soldiers and that the soldiers can't 
 catch them. Stanley's campaign up the 
 Yellowstone reminds me of the old saw: 
 * The king of France marched up the hill, 
 and then marched down again.' " 
 
 Hank and Don thought they understood 
 now what had happened in the two years 
 just passed. 
 
 "And what is going to happen this sum- 
 mer? " they asked after Joe had refilled his 
 pipe. 
 
 " This summer? " Joe snorted with dis- 
 gust. "Hang it, boys! This summer it 
 will be some more of the same haphazard 
 campaigning. Things will grow worse. 
 The editor of the Bismarck Tribune told me 
 that for two years it has not been safe for 
 a man at Fort Lincoln to go a mile out- 
 side of the stockade. The garrison has 
 practically been besieged, and horses 
 
UNGUAKDED MULES 35 
 
 and mules have to be brought iii every 
 night." 
 
 Only one cheerful story he had heard all 
 day, Joe continued, puffing hard at his old 
 campaign pipe, and that wasn't very cheer- 
 ful to the white men concerned in it. 
 
 " Yes, I will tell it to you, boys," he con- 
 sented, when the lads asked to hear the story. 
 " Maybe it will help me to get over the 
 blues. 
 
 " Of course, you know that the army does 
 not use grass horses, though I have often 
 thought every fort ought to keep a bunch 
 of them or a bunch of real Indian ponies. 
 
 " Well, some young chap from Iowa se- 
 cured a government contract two years ago 
 to furnish the hay for the cavalry horses and 
 the government mules at Fort Lincoln. He 
 bought a lot of mules and horses, and wagons 
 and mowers to cut the hay on the wild 
 prairie, in the river bottom. 
 
 " He was a real tenderfoot, who had never 
 been away from his little Iowa town ; but one 
 of those wise young fellows who know it 
 ail and do not take any advice and do not 
 
36 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 listen to any warning. He started cutting 
 hay, and at night he let his mules and horses 
 run loose on the prairie without any guards. 
 He hadn't seen any Indians. They wouldn't 
 dare to touch the property of a United 
 States citizen. He and his men would show 
 them, if they got fresh around his camp. 
 
 " Well, one fine morning the mules and 
 horses were gone, every last one of them. 
 
 " The young fellow was mad and wanted 
 the soldiers to go after the Indians and get 
 his mules back. The commandant laughed 
 at him, and told him to go himself and chase 
 his mules, or go to any other place if he pre- 
 ferred. 
 
 " He and his men borrowed some cavalry 
 horses and followed the trail for a day. 
 Next day they came back, all badly scared, 
 with a bunch of Sioux hot on their trail, and 
 the young fellow had an arrow sticking in 
 his back, so the doctor had to cut it out for 
 him; but they had not seen a tail of the 
 mules. The young fellow and his men went 
 back to Iowa on the next boat, leaving their 
 wagons and mowers on the prairie. 
 
UNGUARDED MULES ST 
 
 " Next summer, a stranger came up on 
 the first boat. One day he told the captain 
 that he was a banker, and that he had a 
 chattel mortgage on those mules of the hay- 
 makers. He told the captain that he had 
 written to General Custer about his lost 
 mules, but Custer had not even answered 
 his letter. He thought if it was explained 
 to the Indians that he had a chattel mortgage 
 on the mules, the Indians would be quite 
 willing to give them up. 
 
 " Captain Marsh let the fellow off at Fort 
 Lincoln, but he did not find anybody who 
 was willing to go and explain to Sitting 
 Bull, and Rain-in-the-Face and Gall what a 
 sacred instrument a chattel mortgage is. 
 
 " The fellow returned to Iowa in an ugly 
 mood and said he was going to report the case 
 to President Grant and demand that Gen- 
 eral Stanley and Custer be court-martialed. 
 
 " It is the best story I have heard for a 
 long time," Joe concluded, " but I can tell 
 you another one that made me laugh. 
 
 " One of the steamboats unloaded a lot of 
 oats on the banlv of the Yellowstone for the 
 
38 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 cavalry horses, but the Indians found the 
 oats, before the soldiers could get it. Now, 
 what do you suppose they did with them? " 
 
 " Stole them for their ponies," the boys 
 answered. 
 
 " No, they didn't. They stole the sacks, 
 but left the oats." 
 
 "What fumiy things Indians do!" cried 
 Don. " Why didn't they take the oats for 
 their ponies? " 
 
 " Boys," the old soldier chuckled, " an 
 Indian pony would no more eat oats than a 
 dog would eat hay." 
 
 " What does he eat? " 
 
 " Grass, of course. Nothing but grass." 
 
 " But what do thev feed him in winter? " 
 
 " Feed him? Indians never feed their 
 horses, and make no hay for them." 
 
 " But what can they eat in winter? " 
 
 " This western grass is good feed all win- 
 ter, no matter how dead and dry it may look. 
 But if they cannot find grass, they eat 
 Cottonwood bark. The Indians do cut down 
 some trees for them, and that is as near as an 
 Indian ever comes to feeding his horses. 
 
UNGUARDED MULES 39 
 
 " Let us go to bed, boys. This western 
 air has made me sleepy. Maybe we had 
 better take the next train back to St. Paul. 
 I sure don't like the looks of things around 
 here. I am not much afraid of losing my 
 own hair, but I feel that I ought to see you 
 boys safe through to Bozeman or take you 
 back to Boston. 
 
 " By next summer, maybe, the trouble 
 will be fixed up or Custer will have taught 
 the Sioux the same kind of lesson that he 
 taught the Cheyennes and Kiowas and 
 Comanches. 
 
 " Good-night, boys ! I roll in for the 
 spirit land." 
 
CHAPTER IV, 
 
 ARE YOU GAME? 
 
 Next morning Joe declared he had slept 
 well, but that the prospect for a safe trip 
 across the plain did not look any brighter to 
 him. 
 
 He always slept well on the plains, he told 
 the boys. He would sleep well, if he knew 
 he would go into a pitched battle with the 
 Sioux next morning. 
 
 " There is one big thing," he asserted, " a 
 man learns in the army. To go ahead, do 
 his duty, and not worry about himself. I 
 think all of us who rode with Custer to the 
 Washita were stoics." 
 
 "Stoics," asked Don. "What is a 
 stoic? " 
 
 " I don't know what the dictionary says 
 
 it means, but I always thought it meant a 
 
 man who goes ahead and does his duty, no 
 
 matter what becomes of him. 
 
 40 
 
ARE YOU GAME? 41 
 
 " Most of us came back from the Washita, 
 except Major Elliot and fourteen men who 
 followed the fleeing Indians too recklessly." 
 
 Joe stopped as if lost m thought. 
 
 " What became of them? " Hank asked 
 with bated breath. 
 
 *" They were surrounded and died fighting. 
 We found their bodies and buried them on 
 our second trip to the Washita." 
 
 " Why didn't the Indians take them 
 prisoners? " 
 
 " Indians don't make prisoners of soldiers 
 and fighting men." 
 
 Later in the day Joe and the boys rode on 
 horseback down the east side of the river to 
 a trading post opposite Fort Lincoln. Old 
 Fort Lincoln was located on the west side of 
 the Missouri, three miles below Bismarck. 
 
 The boys had suggested that they cross on 
 the ferry at Bismarck and see what the coun- 
 try west of the river looked like, but their 
 leader did not fall in with this plan. 
 
 " The country," he told the boys, " would 
 be interesting to scout around in a bit, but I 
 fear we might stir up some Indians, who 
 
42 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 think they have a chattel mortgage on our 
 horses. 
 
 " I am not in a hurry to meet my Sioux 
 friends again. My feeling is that they will 
 show up soon enough, if we go ahead with 
 that northern trip." 
 
 At Fort Lincoln, Joe had all his bad news 
 confirmed, and heard more of the same kind, 
 some of which he did not tell the boys. 
 
 He also learned that about twelve hun- 
 dred men were expected to arrive soon at 
 Fort Lincoln, including Custer's Seventh 
 Cavalry ; and a steamboat was also expected 
 to ascend the Yellowstone. Joe was con- 
 vinced that these plans would only serve to 
 make the Sioux more hostile. 
 
 Wlien evening came, he was more in doubt 
 than ever. 
 
 The boys suggested that they might go up 
 the Yellowstone with the soldiers or take 
 passage on the steamer. 
 
 Joe had thought of both plans, but the sol- 
 diers as well as the steamer were likely to 
 turn him and his boys loose in the most dan- 
 gerous part of the country. And if the 
 
AEE YOU GAME? 43 
 
 steamer was under government charter, the 
 captain might refuse to take them. 
 
 Altogether, Washita Joe had never been 
 so much perplexed. It seemed to him that 
 compared with his present difficulties and 
 doubts, the hard winter campaign against 
 the Cheyennes and Kiowas and Comanches 
 had been nothing but boys' play. He did 
 not have to bother about this route or that; 
 he did not have to worry about anybody's 
 safety, not even his o^\ti. In marching, camp- 
 ing, scouting, or fighting, he just obeyed 
 orders and that was all there was to it. 
 
 " Wliat would you do," asked Hank, " if 
 you did not have us to look after? " 
 
 " By the great horn spoon," vowed Joe, 
 " if I was alone, I would say, ' To thunder 
 with all the Sioux. I'll strike out for the 
 plains, and take my chances on getting 
 through.' I never realized how a man may 
 be unnerved, if he is the one responsible for 
 everything that goes wrong. If Custer had 
 ordered me to ride to China, I should have 
 started out at once, Indians or no Indians! " 
 
 "All right, Joe," replied Hank, " if you 
 
44 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 feel that way about it, you just be Custer. 
 Don and I will be your men, and when you 
 say * March ! ' we march. We came out with 
 you to see the plains ; we are not looking for 
 any tea-parties." 
 
 "You bet! That's right," Don chimed 
 in. " We didn't come out for any tea- 
 parties. We want some adventure. I say, 
 ' Let's go.' The Sioux can't hit us any 
 easier than they can hit you." 
 
 "All right, boys! " exclaimed Joe, thrust- 
 ing out his arms. " If you are game, I'll be 
 scalped if we don't go! " 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE DISPUTE 
 
 While Joe and the boys were preparing 
 for their journey, a company of six traders 
 came in on the train, and after talking over 
 their plans with Joe, it was decided that he 
 and the boys would go in the company of the 
 traders. 
 
 The six traders were men with but little 
 experience on the plains, but they seemed to 
 be hardy, and brave fellows of good char- 
 acter. They realized that their venture at 
 this time would expose them to some dangers 
 and risks, but they expected to follow a route 
 far north of the main camps of the Sioux. 
 If they did not fall in with small camps of 
 friendly Sioux, they expected by a detour 
 to the north to make their way to the Crow 
 country in southwestern Montana, and ulti- 
 mately they hoped to reach Bozeman and 
 Virginia City. 
 
 They had a valuable assortment of goods 
 
 45 
 
46 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 which they intended to carry on two four- 
 mule wagons. Each man was also provided 
 with a saddle-horse, and if on any part of the 
 route wagons became impracticable, they 
 would be ready to abandon the wagons, pack 
 the most valuable goods on their mules, and 
 cache the rest. 
 
 Washita Joe did not feel so sure as Walsh 
 Rankin, the leader of the traders, that the 
 Indians would not molest friendly traders, 
 but he felt that nine men, well armed and 
 with plenty of ammunition would be able to 
 compel good behavior on the part of such 
 camps or small roving war parties as they 
 might meet. 
 
 It took about a week for the traders to 
 complete all their arrangements, but there 
 was no hurry because the party did not in- 
 tend to leave Bismarck until the new grass 
 had started on the prairie, so that their horses 
 and mules could find plenty to eat. The 
 men reasoned that they could take no 
 chances on having their animals become 
 poor, for they realized that they might have 
 to do some long and fast riding. 
 
THE DISPUTE 47 
 
 At last, about the middle of May, the 
 grass showed pale green on the prairie 
 slopes, and the expedition was ready to start, 
 very much to the delight of the boys, whose 
 patience had been severely taxed, although 
 with riding their horses and shooting at an 
 improvised target range every day, their 
 time had been well used. Without the boys 
 knowing it, old Joe had put them through a 
 kind of training camp, which, he hoped, 
 would enable them to endure the hard travel 
 before them without soreness and too much 
 fatigue. 
 
 Joe tried to persuade the traders to start 
 after dark, but the traders ridiculed this 
 idea. 
 
 "\^^at?" exclaimed Walsh Rankin. 
 " Sneak out of to^vn like a bunch of road- 
 agents? No, old fellow, we'll start in day- 
 light. And if our friends want to give us a 
 send-off with a brass band, I am agreeable. 
 I reckon we shall hear little else but tom- 
 tom music for the rest of the summer." 
 
 " You jump in the INIissouri with your 
 brass band," Joe retorted angrily. "You 
 
48 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 fellows think because you once sold some 
 calico to the squaws and treated the bucks to 
 some of your rotten whiskey, no Indian is 
 going to hurt you. Don't you know that the 
 whole plains country is dotted with the bones 
 of fellows who did not use common-sense 
 care, when they travelled through dangerous 
 country? 
 
 " I know, and you ought to know it by 
 this time, that travelling in the Indian coun- 
 try is going to be dangerous this summer. 
 Now, if the boys and I are going to travel 
 with you, you fellows are going to use or- 
 dinary precaution. If you are not willing 
 to do that, we strike out on our own trail. 
 I am not going to take a fool's chances with 
 the lives of my boys." 
 
 "Don't get mad, Joe!" argued Rankin. 
 " We are willing to be careful. But what 
 is the need of sneaking out of a white man's 
 town after dark? " 
 
 " I will get mad, and I will leave you, if 
 you are not going to listen to reason," the 
 old soldier came back. 
 
 " Can't you see, Walsh Rankin, that being 
 
THE DISPUTE 49 
 
 careful doesn't do any good after your horses 
 are stolen or your scalp is off ? I don't want 
 those Sioux scouts that hang around on the 
 bluffs to report to a lot of wild young bucks 
 that a bunch of fool white men has started 
 north with wagons and horses. 
 
 " Can't you see what a fine chance we 
 would offer them to ambush us, while we are 
 travelling north toward the big bend of the 
 Souris? Some of their young men who have 
 not yet counted any war coups, could not 
 wish for a better chance to secure some fine 
 horses, a lot of plunder; and, maybe, a few 
 scalps." 
 
 " I have not seen a Sioux scout for a 
 week," Rankin argued. 
 
 " Neither have I," admitted Joe, " but I 
 am quite sure that they have seen us. 
 
 " For God's sake, Walsh, get it out of 
 your head that there are no Indians wHere 
 you don't see any! If that is the principle 
 you are going to follow, you and your men 
 will lose your scalps and the boys and I will 
 not travel with you." 
 
 Rankin had still other objections to start- 
 
50 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 ing after dark. The men in town would 
 think he and the other traders were afraid of 
 the Indians, moreover, some of the boys, — 
 he meant his young men friends, — had 
 j)lanned to go with them a day's journey and 
 try their greyhounds on some antelopes. 
 
 " Well, all I have to say, Walsh, is that 
 you must have been half over when you 
 made that kind of a tomfool plan. You fel- 
 lows all have plenty of courage ; but for In- 
 dian traders, somebody short-changed you 
 on good sense. If you respected the In- 
 dians a little more, you would keep your 
 hair on longer. 
 
 " The boys and I will be ready to-morrow 
 night; but no brass bands, and no grey- 
 hounds, or we don't travel with you." 
 
 When the old soldier met his boys at 
 supper after this discussion, he was not in a 
 very happy frame of mind. 
 
 " Common sense," he concluded after tell- 
 ing the boys all about his arguments with 
 Rankin. " Common sense seems to be about 
 as uncommon at Bismarck as it is at Boston. 
 
 " I fear we shall have trouble with these 
 
THE DISPUTE 51 
 
 fellows on the trail. They are a bunch of 
 young fellows with more than their share of 
 brag and bravery, but they are short on good 
 sense. 
 
 *' Some of them will never get back to tell 
 the girls about their wonderful adventures 
 in the Indian country." 
 
 Joe felt that perhaps the young traders 
 would take him at his word, and let him and 
 the boys start by themselves ; however, early 
 next morning, Rankin came and told him that 
 the boys all agreed it would be best to make 
 the start as Joe had planned it; because he 
 had had so much more experience with In- 
 dians than any of them. 
 
 Thus it came about that on a warm May 
 evening in the spring of 1875, the little 
 caravan of two wagons, seven mounted men 
 and five extra horses, quietly slipped out of 
 Bismarck on the eastward trail along the 
 Northern Pacific Railroad. 
 
 A few miles east of to^\Ti they struck out 
 northward for the great bend of the Souris 
 or Mouse River, about one hundred miles 
 north of Bismarck. 
 
52 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 On this river they thought they might find 
 small camps of friendly Sioux, or possibly 
 Assiniboins from Canada, with whom they 
 might trade for valuable northern furs, such 
 as marten, otter, and silver fox. 
 
 None of them had ever been over this par- 
 ticular route, but with compass, sun, and 
 stars to guide them, they had no fear of miss- 
 ing their destination. Their plan was to 
 travel straight north as far as the character 
 of the country allowed it, and to keep from 
 ten to fifteen miles east of the Missouri, so 
 as to avoid crossing the deep valleys of the 
 creeks and small streams that enter the Mis- 
 souri from the prairie. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE WILD PLAINS 
 
 It was the first time in their lives that 
 Hank and Don had ever travelled at night, 
 and a most uncanny way it seemed to them. 
 
 For an hour they could see the dim lights 
 of Bismarck and those of a few squatters in 
 the neighborhood. A train whistled and the 
 glaring headlight of a long freight or con- 
 struction train flashed through the darkness. 
 A strange rumbling noise came through the 
 night, there was another long whistle, and 
 then the night of the endless wilderness 
 settled over the travellers. The white man's 
 land lay behind them, and the dark land of 
 the Sioux and of wild bird and beast swal- 
 lowed them up. 
 
 It seemed to the lads as if their o^vn small 
 
 cavalcade made enough noise to be heard for 
 
 63 
 
54 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 miles. How those wagons rattled! And 
 how loudly the saddles creaked ! 
 
 " Indians can surely hear us a mile off," 
 asserted Hank. 
 
 " So they could," Joe admitted, " if there 
 were any of them near. But I do not think 
 that there are any large camps of hostile 
 Sioux east of the Missouri. Most big camps 
 are farther south, between the Yellowstone 
 and the Platte. The country around here 
 gets pretty cold in winter. But I did not 
 want to give the rascals an invitation to fol- 
 low us. Nobody knows who all those reds 
 are that come into Bismarck almost daily. 
 They are supposed to be friendly, but no- 
 body really knows. I have asked the traders 
 not to tell anybody in what direction we have 
 gone, and I hope they have kept mum." 
 
 Don was much more excited than the older 
 boy. He kept close to the side of Joe, who 
 rode ahead a little way to pick the trail. 
 Whenever a dark rock or a pile of dirt, ex- 
 cavated by badgers or coyotes, became dimly 
 visible, Don's heart began to beat fast, and 
 his hair seemed trying to rise under his hat. 
 
THE WILD PLAINS 55 
 
 It had been agreed that there was to be no 
 loud talking and calling, but when a fright- 
 ened buck snorted at the travellers from the 
 head of a wooded coulee, and then broke 
 noisily for the brush below, Don's nerves 
 gave way. 
 
 " There's the Indians coming! " he called jj 
 under his breath, and he seized his rifle ready _ 
 to defend his life, while he felt the gooseflesh 
 creeping all over his back. 
 
 " Don, don't be silly," the older brother 
 admonished the excited boy; " that's a scared 
 deer." 
 
 *' How, — h-how do you know — it — it's a 
 deer? " the shivering lad defended himself. 
 " He — he wh- whistles like a mad Indian! " 
 
 Hank started to laugh, but Joe stopped 
 him, saying kindly, " You need not be afraid 
 of Indians now. Thev hardlv ever attack 
 at night. If there is an Indian within 
 twenty miles of us, he is curled up in his 
 blanket in his tepee or in the shelter of a 
 wickiup, where the wind does not strike 
 him." ^ 
 
 When Joe further assured the excited lad 
 
56 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 that he was not at all on the lookout for In- 
 dians now, but was just riding ahead to pick 
 the best trail for the wagons, Don became 
 quiet and began to laugh at his own 
 fright. 
 
 The world of night seemed to be entirely 
 different from the world in daytime. Never 
 had the boys imagined that there could be 
 such a medley of voices of the night. The 
 coyotes' weird howl and yap seemed to be 
 all around them, and a few times the call of 
 gray wolves came from the distance. The 
 sloughs were alive with quacking ducks, 
 screaming rails, and many other strange 
 notes. Even the air overhead was not silent. 
 The lads recognized the familiar cries of the 
 killdeer, but there were many faint lisping 
 notes in the air, as of small birds; for the 
 spring migration of birds was at its height. 
 Now and then an owl circled overhead of the 
 travellers; and several times, frightened 
 sage-hens and prairie-chickens rose up al- 
 most under the horses' feet. 
 
 When at last the stars had faded, and one 
 could see some distance ahead in the soft 
 
THE WILD PLAINS 57 
 
 gray dawn, the meadow-larks began to 
 whistle their cheerful song; and on the bushes 
 of the coulees the ubiquitous song-sparrows 
 began to trill their morning ditty; and all 
 sense of war and danger seemed to have dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 Joe stopped on the bluff of a wooded 
 ravine. " I think we may as well camp here 
 for breakfast," he said. He took the saddle 
 off his horse and picketed the animal, and 
 the boys did the same with their horses. The 
 traders, however, just turned their animals 
 loose, although Joe warned them of the 
 danger of doing so. 
 
 " If a band of Sioux should come shouting 
 and yelling out of that ravine," he cautioned 
 them, " your mules and horses would stam- 
 pede before you could catch a single one of 
 them." 
 
 But the traders laughed at him, saying 
 they were not afraid of Indians. 
 
 "Yes, that is the trouble with you fel- 
 lows," Joe remonstrated. " Some day you 
 will get scared just a minute too late." 
 
 In about two hours the mules were again 
 
58 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 hitched to the wagons while Joe and his boys 
 were again acting as advance guard. 
 
 Whenever they came to a rise of the end- 
 less brown plain, Joe dismounted and care- 
 fully examined the country in all directions 
 through his glass, without exposing himself 
 against the sky. 
 
 " How could you see an Indian miles 
 away? " the boys wanted to know. 
 
 Joe explained to them that he might not 
 see the Indians themselves, unless they were 
 travelling in the open, but if they had a camp 
 within ten miles, he would be able to see the 
 smoke of their camp-fires, and they would 
 thus be enabled to keep out of sight of the 
 camp. 
 
 The day was ideal for travelling over the 
 plains. The booming of prairie-chickens 
 was heard everywhere, flocks of ducks and 
 wild geese were swimming about on the 
 sloughs, the little brown gophers were chas- 
 ing one another, like boys playing tag, and 
 tall sandhill cranes stalked about near the 
 sloughs and uttered their wild calls. 
 
 In one of the wooded ravines, which they 
 
THE WILD PLAINS 59 
 
 crossed, Joe killed a deer ; and near a marsh 
 the boys secured a big fat goose. Once they 
 saw a small herd of buffaloes in the distance, 
 and as they crossed a rise they surprised a 
 herd of elk. When Joe let the boys try a 
 long range shot at them the whole herd broke 
 in a wild run for the timber near the Mis- 
 souri. They saw also several small bands of 
 antelopes, and watched many short-legged, 
 wabbling badgers dig large holes in quest of 
 gophers. 
 
 Rather early in the afternoon they made 
 camp near a water-hole, which was really 
 a large buffalo-wallow, but at this time was 
 filled with good water for the horses and 
 mules. The men brought water and wood 
 from a ravine near by, and the young 
 grass furnished plenty of feed for the 
 animals. 
 
 Venison, broiled over a bed of live coals, 
 furnished the evening meal for the men, 
 while the boys feasted on wild goose, roasted 
 on a spit of green willow. 
 
 Joe and the boys staked out their horses, 
 but the men did not picket theirs till dark. 
 
60 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 Joe had another argument with the men 
 about guarding camp through the night, the 
 traders claiming it was not necessary, be- 
 cause they had seen no sign of Indians all 
 day. 
 
 Finally the two boys volunteered to guard 
 camp till midnight, while Joe stood through 
 the dangerous hours of early morning, the 
 favorite time of Indians for making their 
 raids. 
 
 On the second day, the travellers turned 
 so far away from the Missouri that they . 
 found no wood, but had to use buffalo chips 
 for cooking their meals. 
 
 On the third day, Joe discovered some 
 pony tracks crossing the sand of a dry run, 
 but as a shower had passed over the country 
 since the tracks were made it was impossible 
 to tell how old they were. 
 
 The traders were of the opinion that they 
 were made by wild ponies, but Joe felt sure 
 that the tracks indicated that Indian horse- 
 men had crossed the run. He strongly 
 urged the men to stay close together and not 
 let one of the wagons straggle behind, and 
 
THE WILD PLAINS 61 
 
 not to do any shooting and hunting till they 
 had reached the Souris. 
 
 The scrawny lot of horses which Joe had 
 bought travelled and acted very well. The 
 boys also stood up well under the hardship 
 of travel and camping and each said he had 
 never had such a good time in his life, and 
 the plains beat Boston all hollow. 
 
 The weather also was fine. The cotton- 
 woods, willows, and other bushes of the 
 coulees and ravines showed the first signs of 
 new foliage, while the prairie hills were still 
 dotted far and wide with the delicate 
 lavender of the wild crocuses, the first con- 
 spicuous spring flowers of the great interior 
 plain. 
 
 Only one thing worried Joe. The care- 
 lessness of the traders. They would not 
 picket their horses and they would not stand 
 guard at night without much unpleasant 
 wrangling. 
 
 " When we reach Mouse River," Joe con- 
 fided to the boys, " I think we shall strike 
 out on our own trail and let these fellows 
 look out for themselves. My only hope is 
 
62 THE THKEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 that we may reach the river without any bad 
 luck. Do not ride with Ritman and Lester, 
 if they fall behind again, and start shooting 
 at antelopes as they did this afternoon. It 
 is playing a dangerous game." 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 AT BAY 
 
 In the afternoon of the fourth. day, they 
 were approaching the Souris. At least Joe 
 thought that the valley with the patches of 
 timber which they saw in plain view about 
 three miles ahead must be the valley of the 
 Souris or Mouse River. 
 
 On this river Joe expected to find a good 
 camping-place, and if he discovered no signs 
 of hostile Indians, he intended to get some 
 fresh meat, for he felt quite sure that both 
 elk and deer would be plentiful in the groves 
 of timber, and he thought he might even be 
 able to secure a fat young buffalo. 
 
 Hank and Don were riding in the wagon 
 
 with Ritman and Lester, for these two men 
 
 had taken a liking to the boys. But as the 
 
 travellers approached the river valley, Joe 
 
 asked the lads to mount their horses and ride 
 
 with him at the head of the train, for ever 
 
 63 
 
64 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 since he had discovered the pony tracks, Joe 
 had kept up a sharp lookout for Indians. 
 
 Descending into the valley of the Souris, 
 Joe stopped the first wagon in a grove of 
 scattered young cottonwoods. When some 
 ten or fifteen minutes elapsed before the 
 second wagon hove in sight over the low 
 bluff, Joe became uneasy. He listened in- 
 tently for sounds from the wagon, but a 
 strong wind was blowing the wrong way and 
 not a sound of the wagon or the two men 
 was to be heard. What could be the trouble? 
 Could they have lost a package and returned 
 for it? That had happened several times, 
 because the two young fellows were careless 
 about loading the bales and boxes. Perhaps 
 they had even stopped the wagon again, and 
 on their saddle-horses, had chased after some 
 antelopes as they had done on several occa- 
 sions. Joe muttered something to himself 
 about overgrown kids, who had no business 
 on the plains, and he vowed in his mind that 
 he would travel no farther in the company 
 of men who would not use ordinary caution. 
 Just then, it seemed to him as if he heard 
 
AT BAY 65 
 
 some shots in the dh'ection he had come. 
 Don also thought he had heard shooting. 
 
 " Come on, boys ! " Joe called to Hank 
 and Don, " we must see what detains them." 
 
 The sight which met Joe, as he looked 
 over the bluff, almost froze the blood in his 
 veins. 
 
 A few hundred rods back on the trail, the 
 wagon lay turned over. The goods were 
 scattered on the ground, the mules were cut 
 loose, and a troop of painted Sioux were 
 plundering the boxes and bales. Ritman 
 and Lester were nowhere to be seen, but half 
 a mile east some Indians were chasing two 
 riderless horses. 
 
 Joe knew at once that his worst fears had 
 more than come true. As fast as their 
 horses could carry them, he and the boys 
 were back at camp. 
 
 "Quick, men, quick!" he shouted. 
 " Throw the goods on the ground and dig 
 rifle-pits behind them. The Sioux will be 
 on us in a minute. Ritman and Lester are 
 killed!" 
 
 But the men seemed not to believe him. 
 
66 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 They jumped on their horses and raced up 
 the bluff. No sooner had they reached the 
 crest of the bluff, when they turned abruptly 
 and came racing pell-mell back to camp. 
 
 "Run, run!" they yelled. "They're 
 coming! A hundred of them! We can't 
 stop them! " 
 
 "Get off, you fools, and dig!" Joe 
 shouted. " I'll shoot the first man that 
 leaves us! Stop, Rankin, or you're a dead 
 man! " 
 
 Joe's levelled pistol seemed to bring 
 Rankin back to his senses. He jumped to 
 the ground and began to help Joe and the 
 boys in throwing a hasty barricade around 
 the wagon and the animals, and the other 
 three men followed his example. 
 
 " They will kill our horses and mules. 
 We are lost! " moaned one of the men. 
 
 "Never mind the animals!" Joe com- 
 manded. "Dig, men, dig! Throw some 
 logs on the goods ! We have to make a brave 
 stand or we are lost, every man of us ! " 
 
 To the surprise of the men, the Indians 
 did not at once rush upon them, but gave 
 
AT BAY 67 
 
 them time to complete their rude fortifica- 
 tion, consisting of bales and boxes of goods, 
 a few logs and stumps, together with some 
 dirt hastily thrown up with the two spades 
 in the first wagon. 
 
 The Sioux had not been able to resist the 
 temptation to plunder the rear wagon, be- 
 fore they pressed home their attack. Had 
 they not done this, they could have taken the 
 whole party by surprise, and killed every 
 man. 
 
 But now they appeared in force on the 
 bluff. Ten, twenty, thirty of them there 
 might be, all naked with their faces painted 
 for war. Most of them had gnins, but a few 
 carried bows and arrows. They seemed to 
 be holding a council of war. A big man on 
 a calico pony seemed to be the chief. 
 
 " Let's give them a volley ! " one of the 
 men suggested. " Our Henrys can reach 
 them." 
 
 " No, you don't ! " Joe commanded 
 sternly. " Hold your fire till I give the 
 word. Aim carefully at your man and drop 
 him. It's our lives or theirs, men ! " 
 
68 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 It seemed an interminably long time be- 
 fore those painted Sioux warriors made a 
 move. But, at last, they advanced. Slowly 
 at first, but soon at a breakneck speed, yell- 
 ing their terrible war-whoop and racing as if 
 they would ride straight over and into the 
 rude fort, in which every man lay flat with 
 his finger on the trigger. 
 
 Now they began to scatter and circle 
 around the fort. A few discharged their 
 arms, but the white men had now regained 
 their composure and did not reply. Closer 
 and closer they came until they were within 
 less than a hundred yards. 
 
 " Let go at them," called Joe, and a crack- 
 ling volley broke from the seven concealed 
 defenders, who uttered a yell of defiance as 
 three Indians and two ponies fell dead or 
 badly wounded. 
 
 " Five out of seven! " Joe tallied. " Not 
 so bad, but we ought to do better." 
 
 The Sioux uttered a yell of rage, and 
 withdrew out of range. 
 
 With the instinct of an experienced In- 
 dian fighter, Joe had chosen a very strong 
 
AT BAY 69 
 
 position. The camp was so close to the 
 river that the Indians did not dare to get 
 between the camp and the stream, but could 
 make their attack only from three sides, 
 and could not completely surroimd the 
 camp. 
 
 One more attack they m^ade, but this time 
 they were much more cautious and only one 
 of them was hit. 
 
 They seemed to be satisfied now that the 
 white man's camp could not be carried by 
 assault. They withdrew to the crest of the 
 bluff and evidently were holding another 
 council, while two of them approached 
 within a safe distance and called on the 
 whites to come out and fight like men. 
 
 \\Tien these challenges brought no reply, 
 they began to talk in sign. 
 
 " You are gophers ! Dogs, squaws, co- 
 yotes in their holes. Come out. Fight. 
 Rub vou out ! " That was as much as Joe 
 could interpret of the universal language of 
 the plains. 
 
 As the Sioux seemed to have had enough 
 of fighting for the day, the besieged men 
 
70 THE THEEAT OF SITTi:N'a BULL 
 
 made use of the lull in the battle. They 
 watered their animals, and picketed them or 
 tied them to trees, so they could graze under 
 the protection of the men's rifles. 
 
 Then they filled their water-pails, built a 
 fire, and made supper; all within plain sight 
 of the enemy. 
 
 Joe seemed to enjoy his meal as much as 
 ever. The boys and most of the men could 
 not eat much, but all were very thirsty. Al- 
 though the water was almost as muddy as 
 that in the Missouri, no spring water had 
 ever tasted better to them. 
 
 Toward dusk Joe statione9 two men each 
 behind a tree, close to the river. 
 
 " If you see any Indian trying to sneak 
 up on shore or show himself across the river, 
 send him a ball. There will be little sleep 
 for us men, while our friends are near. If 
 we keep cool and alert, we may get out of 
 this alive." 
 
 Thus far, none of the seven defenders was 
 hurt, and only two of the mules had been 
 wounded. 
 
 The boys wondered why the Sioux had 
 
AT BAY 71 
 
 not aimed at the animals. " They could 
 have hit them easily," said Don. 
 
 " That is true," assented Joe. " But they 
 expect to ride them, after they have taken 
 our scalps." 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 A TERRIBLE DAY 
 
 The men ate their supper without being 
 attacked. If a stranger had viewed the 
 scene from a distance, he might have thought 
 that he saw a camp of white men and a camp 
 of Indians as friendly neighbors. 
 
 The two boys and the five men who were 
 just finishing their supper could be under no 
 illusion, however, as to the disposition of 
 their neighbors. 
 
 The canvas cover of the wagon was rid- 
 dled with bullets and arrows, many of the 
 trees showed the pecviliar blaze made by a 
 glancing bullet, and two of their compan- 
 ions, the men knew, were lying dead on the 
 prairie. 
 
 The seven at the camp-fire had come out 
 of the fight without a scratch, but they all 
 
 realized that they were besieged by the 
 
 72 
 
A TERRIBLE DAY 73 
 
 Sioux, and that the Indians might renew the 
 attack at any time. 
 
 ^Miile Joe was leisurely puffing his old 
 black campaign pipe, his mind ran rapidly 
 over the events of the day, and then planned 
 for the defense of to-morrow. 
 
 With the instinct and quick eye of a born 
 Indian fighter, he detected a dangerously 
 weak spot in their position. The nearness of 
 their fort to the river was a source of great 
 strength only as long as the Indians at- 
 tacked on horseback. If they should be de- 
 termined enough to renew the fight on foot, 
 the position of the fort so close to the river 
 would become a source of fatal wealaiess, as 
 soon as the Indians had taken in the situa- 
 tion; and he had no doubt that they would 
 take it in. 
 
 If a few Sioux warriors crawled along 
 under the bank and behind the dead grasses 
 and bushes until they could hide under cover 
 of the bank between the stream and the fort, 
 that little fort and its defenders were 
 doomed. The Indians would hold a much 
 stronger place than the few whites. The 
 
74 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 fort would be completely surrounded and 
 the defenders would not be able to hold it 
 against a much superior number; neither 
 could they risk a bold charge, nor could they 
 break away with the slightest hope of saving 
 their lives. Once let the Sioux completely 
 surround them, and every man in that little 
 improvised fort was doomed to be killed and 
 scalped. 
 
 Joe thought of Major Elliot and his four- 
 teen men on the Washita, and of Captain 
 Fetterman and his eighty troopers who were 
 enticed into an ambush near Fort Phil Kear- 
 ney where every one of them was killed 
 within a few miles of the whole garrison of 
 the fort. The Sioux were no mean fighters 
 and no mean strategists. 
 
 With a grim face Joe smoked his old pipe, 
 while his companions sat in solemn silence 
 around the fire, their eyes watching the 
 bluffs, where the Sioux had disappeared 
 from sight. 
 
 " Do you suppose they have pulled out? " 
 Rankin asked. 
 
 " No," answered the old soldier, " that 
 
A TERRIBLE DAY 75 
 
 movement is only a ruse. They are right be- 
 hind the crest of the bluff hoping that we 
 might be foolish enough to come out or try 
 to travel. 
 
 " Do you see that rose-bush, men, just on 
 the river bank? Right there we want to dig 
 a good safe rifle-pit, as soon as it is fairly 
 dark. If we let them reach a position under 
 that bank, they have us in a trap." 
 
 "Why not begin the work at once?" 
 asked Hank. 
 
 " Bad plan," Joe explained. " We do 
 not want to show them what is in our mind. 
 It is just possible that the rogues may not 
 think of that plan, unless they see us dig- 
 ging." 
 
 " But they are not watching us now," Don 
 said. 
 
 " That's where you are badly mistaken, 
 son," Joe replied with a sad smile, thinking 
 of the two careless youths who might have 
 been sitting at the camp-fire. " I am sure 
 that several of their scouts have their eyes 
 on us this very minute. I see several sus- 
 picious looking tufts of grass. The chances 
 
76 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 are that two Sioux eyes are peering out from 
 under those tufts, each scout lying flat on 
 the prairie." 
 
 The men wondered if they would be at- 
 tacked during the night. 
 
 " Not very likely," Joe rephed. " But 
 I expect them to call us early in the morn- 
 ing, about the time those bush-sparrows wake 
 up. They will steal horses at night, but will 
 seldom start a fight before dawn. 
 
 " Well, let us put out the fire and tie up 
 the animals. It is almost dark enough to 
 begin work. No loud talking, you all under- 
 stand. Work quietly, and listen for sovmds 
 outside. Remember, don't show any light 
 of a match or pipe; it might draw a bullet." 
 
 The men worked like badgers digging in 
 the dark, silently but fast. As two of them 
 became tired, two others, who had been on 
 guard on the river bank, relieved them, the 
 boys with one man remaining on watch in 
 the fort. 
 
 The rifle-pit, large enough for two men,: 
 was soon dug, for the soil consisted of a fine 
 sand without any rocks. 
 
A TEERIBLE DAY 77i 
 
 ** Now, men," Joe directed them in a low 
 voice, " let us rmi a shallow zigzag trench 
 from our fort to the pit. Then, after piling 
 up a little more dirt around our little fort, 
 this camp is as strong as we can make it. 
 Any Sioux bunch that tries to drive us out 
 will have to pay for the attempt." 
 
 About midnight, the work was com- 
 pleted. The men wrapped themselves in 
 their blankets, took a drink of black coffee, 
 and occupied their assigned places. The 
 boys had been told to lie do^vn and try to 
 sleep. 
 
 The hours passed wearily, and Joe passed 
 silently from man to man, fearing more that 
 the men might fall asleep from sheer fatigue, 
 than hoping to catch any sights or sounds of 
 lurking enemies. 
 
 The ominous silence, which nearly al- 
 ways marks the so-called small hours of 
 morning, seemed to settle with a kind of 
 heavy foreboding on the lonely camp on the 
 Souris. The horses gave an occasional 
 grunt, one of the more restless animals 
 would peel off a mouthful of cottonwood 
 
78 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 bark, and some small rapids in the river 
 seemed now to make a loud gurgling noise. 
 
 Of any human beings, the watchful sen- 
 tinels could detect no sign or sound; but 
 the call of coyotes and wolves seemed even 
 more common than usual, and in a patch of 
 timber across the river an owl was heard 
 several times. 
 
 The boys had at last fallen sound asleep, 
 being worn out by the long hard ride and 
 the excitement of the fight. 
 
 "If I do not come out of this," Joe had 
 told the men, " and you do, see that these 
 boys get to their father at Bozeman." 
 
 It was now about three o'clock, and the 
 men all knew that the next hour would tell 
 whether the Sioux had left or were con- 
 cealed around the camp. Joe shook the boys 
 gently out of their sleep, because he feared 
 that they might expose themselves, if 
 startled by pistol and rifle shots. 
 
 " It's time to keep an extra sharp look- 
 out, men," Joe cautioned. " Don't shoot 
 wild, but don't let them come too close." 
 
 Now Rankin motioned to Joe and pointed 
 
A TEEKIBLE DAY 79 
 
 to a low bush. " Is that a real bush? " he 
 asked in a low voice. " It seems to me the 
 thing has moved since I saw it first." 
 
 Joe looked sharp at the bush. It cer- 
 tainly was not moving now, but there was 
 something a little unnatural about it, be- 
 cause it seemed to grow straight out of the 
 ground, and not to lean outward from a 
 common center. 
 
 " Get down, men," Joe whispered. " Look 
 out! Danger! " And the next moment he 
 sent a carefully aimed ball low into the bush. 
 
 The bush jumped up, uttered a terrible 
 yell, and fell back as if dead. 
 
 At almost the same moment there was a 
 blaze and a crash from a dozen guns all 
 around the small fort. Two shots were fired 
 from low willows across the river, but no 
 Indian had gained the bank near the fort. 
 
 " Pick them out, before they can crawl 
 away," Joe called. " Aim carefully, each 
 man take his own time! " 
 
 The man in the pit fired two loads of 
 buckshot at the Sioux in the willows, and 
 from movements in the low brush, the senti- 
 
80 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 nel concluded that both of the Sioux in the 
 brush were either wounded or driven out of 
 their position, by the unexpected strength 
 of the resistance. 
 
 In the meantime the other men had each 
 picked his Indian. Some of these had 
 run or crawled out of close range, and one 
 or two had been wounded or killed. But 
 one of the boldest of the Sioux could not be 
 dislodged. He had reached the cover of 
 three cottonwood trees growing very close 
 together. Half a dozen times the defenders 
 tried to silence him, but again and again he 
 poked his long gun through an opening in 
 his cover, and sent a ball into camp, one of 
 which grazed Hank's head, who had peered 
 over the breastwork for a second to locate 
 a troublesome Sioux archer. 
 
 " That fellow behind the trees has got to 
 be routed, or none of us dares to raise his 
 head," Joe fumed. *' Try to draw his fire, 
 Rankin!" 
 
 Scarcely had the Sioux fired his gun 
 again, when Joe, a Colt's pistol in each hand, 
 rushed at the Sioux, and before the Indian 
 
A TERRIBLE DAY 81 
 
 had time to reload his gun or spring at Joe 
 with his knife and hatchet, it was all over 
 with him. 
 
 Rankin, who had been trying in vain to 
 dislodge an Indian, followed Joe's example, 
 and rushed at his man with a pistol. But 
 this man was quicker or less bold than Joe's 
 man, for he broke from cover, leaving his 
 gun behind, and rushed for the bluffs as if 
 he was going to " steal second base." But 
 Rankin wounded him so badly that two of 
 his friends had to carry him out of rifle 
 range. 
 
 This bold dash on the part of the white 
 men caused all the Indians to break from 
 cover and run for the hills ; and for the first 
 time since dawn, the whites dared to stand 
 up. 
 
 The fight had really lasted only about an 
 hour, but it seemed to the boys as if they 
 had ducked their heads, fired, and loaded 
 their guns for half a day. Both of the lads 
 had had some narrow escapes. Once Don 
 had raised his head a little too high, and Joe, 
 calling, " Get down!" had roughly tapped 
 
82 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 him on the crown with the butt of his 
 rifle. 
 
 The words were scarcely uttered, when a 
 steel arrow stuck in the butt of Joe's gun; 
 and after that incident Don did no more 
 careless scouting. 
 
 As soon as the men had made sure that 
 no other Sioux were hidden around their 
 camp, they took the animals down to water, 
 but the man with the shotgun and two men 
 with rifles stood behind the horses ready to 
 discourage any Sioux who might be tempted 
 to fire at the beasts from the willow brush 
 across the river. 
 
 Breakfast was eaten with apparent good 
 cheer, but there was an unmistakable under- 
 current of seriousness in camp. None of 
 them had been badly wounded. Joe and 
 one of the traders had received flesh 
 wounds, which might cause trouble. 
 
 Within an hour the Indians appeared 
 again, and although they kept carefully out 
 of range, they made it impossible for the 
 white men to move. 
 
 Rankin proposed that they abandon the 
 
A TERKIBLE DAY 83 
 
 wagon and the mules, and all try to escape 
 on the fastest horses. 
 
 But to what place of safety could they 
 escape? It was a hundred miles to either 
 Bismarck, or Fort Totten on Devil's Lake, 
 and with enraged Indians dogging their 
 trail they could not hope to reach either 
 place. 
 
 "No, men," Joe decided. "Our only 
 chance of standing them off is right here. 
 If we begin to run, we are lost." 
 
 The day wore on slowly, and although the 
 men could take turns at sleeping, and the 
 animals could be picketed on fresh grass, the 
 company did not look forward with cheer to 
 another night of watching, and a second 
 morning of fighting. The Indians seemed 
 to be waiting for more warriors to renew the 
 attack. In that case, the little company 
 could not hold out more than a day or two. 
 
 In the afternoon a sudden commotion 
 was seen among the Sioux on the bluff. The 
 hearts of the men beat faster. Was an- 
 other dreaded war party about to join their 
 enemies? 
 
84 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 Soon the Indians disappeared. Some 
 shooting was heard, and half an hour later a 
 troop of cavalry appeared on the crest of 
 the bluff. 
 
 The men fired their guns and cheered, and 
 a few minutes later thirty troopers, on a 
 scouting trip from Fort Totten, rode into 
 camp. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 MINNEWAUKAN 
 
 The traders had had enough of fighting 
 Indians, and decided that the only thing for 
 them to do was to go with the soldiers to 
 Fort Totten. It would have been madness 
 for Joe to do anything else, so he decided, 
 although with much reluctance, to take the 
 boys to Fort Totten, and there make further 
 plans. 
 
 Before the company started for Fort Tot- 
 ten, the traders dug two graves on the prai- 
 rie, and laid the bodies of their two com- 
 rades in their last resting-place. 
 
 The tracks of the Indian ponies showed 
 
 that the Sioux had travelled for several 
 
 miles parallel to the traders, but hidden from 
 
 view by a rise in the ground. When the 
 
 two men had left their companions to give 
 
 chase to a band of antelopes, they had al- 
 
 85 
 
86 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 most ridden into the midst of the Sioux, who 
 had quickly surrounded them and cut off 
 their retreat. 
 
 The soldiers from Fort Totten had 
 struck the pony trail, and had thus been led 
 to the plundered wagon. As soon as they 
 had discovered that another wagon and a 
 number of horses had passed on toward the 
 river, they had followed this trail, fully ex- 
 pecting to find the second wagon plundered, 
 and the owners killed. The bodies of the 
 two men killed on the prairie they had not 
 found; they had, in fact, not looked for 
 them. Both traders and soldiers acknowl- 
 edged that it was due to the experience, the 
 cool head and the bravery of Washita Joe 
 that every man of the party that started for 
 the Souris had not been killed. 
 
 Joe, himself, did not feel at all elated by 
 any feeling of having done a brave deed. 
 He reviled himself for having joined the 
 traders, for he felt that he and the boys 
 could have travelled with so little noise and 
 exposure that no Indians would have dis- 
 covered them. The only satisfactory thing 
 
MINNEWAUKAN 87 
 
 connected with the whole trip was that he 
 had saved the lives of four men, even if he 
 had lost two. 
 
 The soldiers travelled about thirty miles, 
 and camped for the night on a small lake 
 with enough scrubby timber, box-elder, and 
 choke-cherry to enable them to cook their 
 evening meal. 
 
 A small herd of buffaloes was seen a mile 
 off on the prairie, but the officer refused to 
 let the soldiers hunt them, saying he did not 
 propose to offer the Sioux any more chances 
 for white scalps. 
 
 " Any man," he gave out, " that goes out- 
 side of patrol limits will bunk a month in 
 the guard-house at Fort Totten, and live on 
 bread and water." 
 
 The lake on which camp had been made 
 was alkaline and the water was not fit for 
 the men to use, although the horses and 
 mules seemed to like it. But Joe soon found 
 a small dry run, in which he dug a well that 
 gave enough good water for the boys and 
 himself, and the soldiers dug several wells 
 for their use. 
 
88 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 There was no bugle sounded in camp that 
 night, and long before the soldiers were 
 through swapping yarns and playing cards 
 for captured Indian relics, Joe and his 
 party were sound asleep in their blankets. 
 
 On the third evening all arrived safely at 
 Fort Totten beautifully located on the 
 south side of Devil's Lake, or Minnewau- 
 kan, the brackish inland sea of the present 
 State of North Dakota. 
 
 Joe's wound had already begun to heal, 
 but the other wounded man was sorely in 
 need of the post surgeon, 
 
 " Don, were you badly scared in our fort 
 on the Souris?" asked Hank before the 
 lads fell asleep that night. 
 
 " I was," admitted Don, *' when Joe 
 rushed at the Indian with his pistol. I was 
 afraid some of the other Sioux might shoot 
 him." 
 
 " Oh, they are rotten poor shots ! " cried 
 Hank. " I was scared when Joe had to hit 
 you on the head to prevent the Indian from 
 splitting it with an arrow." 
 
 " I was more than scared stiff," Don 
 
MINNEWAUKAN 89 
 
 confessed. " I thought an Indian had hit 
 me, and for a moment I thought I was 
 dead. 
 
 " Say, Hank! I would not be afraid to 
 cross the plains with Joe and you. Joe can 
 think and fight at the same time. Wasn't he 
 quick about making a fort? And didn't he 
 nail that Indian before anybody had time to 
 think what he was going to do? I bet none 
 of the traders would have dared to go after 
 that Indian. It takes a soldier to fight In- 
 dians. 
 
 " Hank, I hope we stay here long enough 
 to explore this big lake. It is fine to swim 
 in, Joe says, because it is salt like the sea. 
 No, not really salt, but " 
 
 " Alkaline." Hank helped him over the 
 hard word. 
 
 " I went down to taste it. It is mighty 
 bad stuff to drink. It tastes like soap-suds, 
 and salt in lemonade, the way we fixed Bert 
 Stratton's lemonade last year on the 
 Fourth. 
 
 " Hank, you are asleep; you didn't hear 
 me. Wake up 1 " 
 
90 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 " Oh, let me alone," drawled Hank. " I 
 am sleepy. Tell me to-morrow." 
 
 Joe's arm did not heal as quickly as the 
 old soldier had expected. It became badly 
 inflamed, and for several days it looked as 
 if Joe might lose his arm. For a week he 
 had to stay in the fort hospital and after he 
 was out again, he had to keep quiet and was 
 not allowed by the surgeon to go on any ex- 
 ploring trip with the boys. 
 
 Minnewaukan, DeviFs Lake, as the white 
 people have crudely called it, is a body of 
 water, which would arouse the exploring in- 
 stinct of any real boy. 
 
 It is a lake of numerous bays and penin- 
 sulas, where one might be lost for days. The 
 moisture which the lake gives to the air, the 
 protection from rimning prairie fires, and 
 the fine soil around it, have produced groves 
 and stretches of timber, oaks, elm, linden, 
 and box-elder, with many vines and shrubs 
 as underbrush that make one forget that he 
 is on the great plain and not in the big 
 woods, six hundred miles to the southeast in 
 Minnesota or Wisconsin. 
 
MmNEWAUKAN 91 
 
 The strange atmosphere of the region 
 caught hold of the boys at once. It seemed 
 as if this great lake with all its smiimer 
 charm had been laid down here on the plain 
 by a special act of God. Maybe the Great 
 Spirit had made it for the Indian and the 
 buffalo. The buffaloes had left, but there 
 were still about a thousand friendly Indians 
 near the lake and the fort. 
 
 Many questions the boys asked which Joe 
 found it hard to answer: If the water that 
 ran into the lake was not alkaline, why was 
 the lake alkaline? If the lake had no out- 
 let, why did it not run over? 
 
 On this last question Joe caught the boys 
 fairly and squarely. 
 
 " You fool youngsters," he came back at 
 them, " can't you see that the lake isn't full 
 yet? Don't you know that a pan can't run 
 over till it's full?" 
 
 It did not help the boys to ask why the 
 lake was not full. Joe could not be drawn 
 out. 
 
 " Get out of here, you ragamuff s ! " he 
 called with mock anger. " Go walk around 
 
92 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 the lake and find out. Get out of here! so 
 I can finish this game of checkers in peace. 
 
 " Go and catch us some pickerel for sup- 
 per. I am getting tired of the mess-cook's 
 salt beef. You did not catch a thing yes- 
 terday." 
 
 " It was too windy; we couldn't go out," 
 Hank explained. 
 
 But Joe would not take an excuse. 
 
 " That's the time they bite best," he in- 
 sisted. " You fellows had better fish while 
 you may. When we get away from here to 
 the Bad Lands, and the Little Missouri, you 
 will have no chance to fish." 
 
 " Aren't there any fish in the Little Mis- 
 souri? " Don popped out. 
 
 " Oh, lots of them, I reckon, but the water 
 is so muddy, they can't see the hook. Skinny, 
 hand me that whip ! I'll see if I can't clear 
 this shack of quizzing brats! " 
 
 The boys rushed out of the shack in mock 
 fright. " We'll catch you a mess of stickle- 
 backs, a bushel of sticklebacks!" Don 
 yelled. 
 
 The boys did go and catch a mess of pick- 
 
MINNEWAUKAN 93 
 
 erel, enough to make a meal for a dozen hun-s 
 gry men. 
 
 Why no other game fish but pickerel 
 .were to be found in Devil's Lake, was 
 another puzzle to the boys. How did the 
 pickerel and the sticklebacks get into the 
 lake? 
 
 Some of these questions the boys asked 
 at Lake Minnewaukan have puzzled even 
 present-day scientists. 
 
 But if a boy wishes to know how fish get 
 into almost any stream or lake or pond, he 
 must turn explorer like the fishes themselves. 
 He must not be afraid of the muddy roads 
 and soft fields of early spring, for that is 
 the time when the different kinds of fish go 
 to explore and stock new waters if any have 
 arisen. Many lose their lives in these an- 
 nual explorations, but the great impulse of 
 life urges them on, even as the human land- 
 seekers pressed on and on over the Santa Fe 
 and Oregon Trails. 
 
 As soon as the snow has melted and the 
 streams are free from ice, pickerel and 
 suckers and minnows and other fishes begin 
 
94 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 to run up-stream. They reach every body 
 of water, unless some sheer waterfall or dam 
 stops them. Different kinds of minnows 
 and small dogfish will wriggle up a run not 
 bigger than a man's thumb. 
 
 Every boy and girl has seen something 
 of the migration of robins and other birds, 
 but the real scouts turn out and see the 
 migration of the little fishes up streams 
 and over meadows and even over plowed 
 fields. It goes on around us over the whole 
 broad continent every spring, but how many 
 boys and girls have ever seen it? 
 
 In some such way, the j)ickerel and the 
 stickleback and other fish must have reached 
 Minnewaukan, a very long time ago, when 
 the lake may have had an outlet to some 
 tributary of the Missouri. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 A BAD NIGHT 
 
 If the soldiers were inclined to complain 
 about the mess, the boys did not; they just 
 ate, explored anc slept. The hfe on the 
 oasis of woods and lake on the great plains 
 was one of pure delight. The sunset gun, 
 taps, and reveille soon came to be beloved 
 sounds to the lads. The soldiers them- 
 selves were a happy, care-free lot! " Boys 
 in uniform," Joe used to call them. 
 
 They had only one grudge against Uncle 
 Sam ; they did not like garrison duty. They 
 hoped they would get orders to join Custer 
 and Forsyth, or anybody on the Yellow- 
 stone. 
 
 "What is the use," they reasoned, "of 
 our sticking here with a. bunch of friendly 
 Indians? " If they had felt sure that Cus- 
 ter and Forsyth would take them in, many 
 
 would have deserted to reenlist on the Yel- 
 
 95 
 
96 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 lowstone or at Fort Lincoln. Some of the 
 men had seen service at Fort Phil Kearney 
 and in the comitry of the old Santa Fe and 
 Oregon Trails, and they were great story- 
 tellers, but they delighted in " stuffing the 
 boys " with all kinds of wild tales, as Joe 
 called it. 
 
 Old Cactus Pete was the worst of those, 
 who could so adroitly mix facts and fancy 
 that even Joe could not always tell whether 
 Pete was giving rein to his imagination or 
 was telling one of those true tales of the 
 plains that make the Arabian Nights seem 
 like rather tame stories. 
 
 The boys were inclined to believe him 
 word for word until one day, Don asked him 
 what made the hill known as Devil's Heart 
 stand up all alone on the prairie. 
 
 " That thar mountain," replied Pete after 
 a moment's thought, " hasn't been thar very 
 long. When I first passed here, ten years 
 ago, on a buifalo hunt with Slim and Rattle- 
 snake Jim, it warn't thar at all. It riz up in 
 a big earthquake the year we was away fight- 
 ing in the wagon-box at Fort Phil Kearney. 
 
A BAD KIGHT 
 
 97 
 
 When I seen it first it was a part of the 
 lake, a big hole, a hundred feet deep I should 
 say." 
 
 "You fought in a wagon-box?" asked 
 Hank, passing by the remarkable origin of 
 Devil's Heart. 
 
 " Yes, we sure fought them in the wagon- 
 box," insisted Cactus Pete. 
 
 " How did the Indians get into the 
 wagon-box? " queried Don doubtingly. 
 
 " They warn't in the wagon-box," Pete 
 explained, " but believe me, boys, them In- 
 juns tried powerful hard to get in! " 
 
 Just then the bugle sounded: 
 
 i 
 
 :?ci^ 
 
 p # y P -#- 
 
 W 
 
 f: 
 
 ?=^ 
 
 t-^Ht 
 
 Soup - y, soup - y, soup - y not a . .sin - gle bean ; 
 
 i 
 
 g ^ M (^ 
 
 :t=n=t: 
 
 ^ P P f P 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■^- 
 
 Cof - fee, cof- fee, cof - fee, not a . .bit of cream. 
 
 E 
 
 -#-•-•- 
 
 Pork - y pork - y, pork - y, not a . streak of lean. 
 
 "Mess call!" exclaimed Don, and away 
 he was without pressing any farther his in- 
 
98 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 quiry about Devil's Heart and the fight in 
 the wagon-box. 
 
 When after dinner the boys mentioned the 
 origin of Devil's Heart to Joe, their friend 
 laughed outright. 
 
 " Boys," he said, " Pete has filled you up 
 again. That mountain is a good deal older 
 than Adam I reckon. Some day Cactus 
 Pete will tell you that he was there when 
 God made the world, and you fellows will 
 believe him. 
 
 " Don't you laiow yet that Pete is the 
 biggest liar at Fort Totten? " 
 
 "Why do they call him Cactus Pete?" 
 ^on wondered. 
 
 " Ask him yourself," Joe suggested. " If 
 he likes you well enough, maybe he will tell 
 you. Ask him after supper some night, 
 when his pipe is drawing well." 
 
 " Pete says Slimmy also saw the hole 
 where Devil's Heart is now," Don objected 
 rather mildly. 
 
 "Slimmy?" Joe burst out laughing 
 again. " Slimmy will swear to anything 
 Pete claims to have seen. 
 
A BAD NIGHT 99 
 
 " It's all right, lads, to let these old boys 
 forget their troubles in telling you their big 
 yarns, but use your head a little when you 
 listen to them." 
 
 The boys mentioned the fight in the 
 wagon-box with some hesitation, for it 
 seemed about as improbable as the story 
 about the origin of Devil's Heart. 
 
 To their surprise Joe affirmed that there 
 had been such a battle. "And that is 
 one story Pete cannot exaggerate," he 
 added. 
 
 In the afternoon the boys went out fish- 
 ing. The lake was so full of pickerel in 
 those days, that the boys could catch a mess 
 in almost any likely-looking bay, and for 
 that reason they explored a new part of the 
 lake on almost every fishing trip. 
 
 On this occasion, they paddled west along 
 shore for several miles and then crossed over 
 to the north side of a lake, where they had 
 never fished. Thev took some lunch with 
 them so that thev would not have to return 
 before dark ; because, as every boy knows, 
 although mother and sister will not always 
 
100 THE THKEAT OF SITTIISTG BULL 
 
 believe it, fish do sometimes not bite till just 
 before sunset. 
 
 The boys had bought of an Indian a birch- 
 bark canoe, the only one brought to Fort 
 Totten from Minnesota, for the large 
 straight birches that furnish the white bark 
 for canoes do not grow in the woods at Min- 
 newaukan or anywhere in North Dakota. 
 The boys were very proud of the way they 
 had learned to handle this real Indian craft, 
 and took very good care of it. Their canoe 
 enabled them to go wherever they wanted, 
 and made possible many a short cut by 
 carrying it across ridges and necks of 
 land. 
 
 The birch-bark canoe has always been the 
 means of travel used by the Indians of the 
 great interior region of lakes and rivers, 
 from the Atlantic coast to the Red River. 
 
 The Plains Indians, before they had 
 horses, had to travel on foot. For crossing 
 rivers or going long distances down-stream, 
 they used bull-boats, which were really big 
 round baskets covered with a buffalo skin. 
 
 When Hank and Don reached the North 
 
A BAD NIGHT 101 
 
 Bay, it was almost supper-time, at least 
 Don's stomach said it was, although Hank 
 claimed the sun said it was not more than 
 four o'clock. 
 
 No day can be more enchanting than a 
 summer day in the wild groves and on the 
 bays of Minnewaukan, and no warm sea- 
 beach or shaded swimming-hole can call 
 more insistently to a boy than the summer 
 ripiDles of Minnewaukan, the alluring inland 
 sea of the Land of the Dakotas. 
 
 " We don't have to fish," suggested Don. 
 " Let us have a swim first." 
 
 If you are only an indifferent swimmer, 
 you should try the water in Lake JNIinne- 
 waukan. A long time ago, the Great Spirit 
 put much medicine into its basin. The water 
 of Minnewaukan is not good to swallow, but 
 it is the best of all lakes for swimming; it 
 buoys up the swimmer like the salt water of 
 the ocean. 
 
 How the lads revelled in the warm rip- 
 ples, how they struck out into deep water or 
 dived to the bottom, which is covered with a 
 soft carpet of a strange grassy water plant. 
 
102 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 wherever the water is not too deep for plant 
 growth. 
 
 " Time to come out," Hank called at last. 
 " I guess it is supper-time now. We left 
 our drinking-water at the landing. I will 
 find a spring or dig a well and start the fire. 
 You try to catch a few pickerel for supper." 
 
 Hark soon found a spring and had a fire 
 of driftwood over a small fireplace of rocks, 
 the kind that do not burst when they are 
 heated. Don came ashore with two pick- 
 erel, which he quickly enclosed in a cast of 
 wet clay and placed in a bed of live coals in 
 Hank's fireplace. Both lads were, by this 
 time^ pretty good Indians, which means that 
 they could find food, water, and shelter 
 wherever these prime necessities of all life 
 existed. 
 
 The fish came out of their skins as clean 
 and white as if a Southern colored cook had 
 planked them on a sweet board of maple 
 wood. Hot, sweet tea, bacon, bread, and 
 pickerel baked in Indian style, furnished the 
 boys a meal so tasty, that even Aunt Sara in 
 Boston could not have done better, except 
 
A BAD NIGHT 103 
 
 for a pudding or a pie, which one should not 
 expect in camp. 
 
 There were few dishes to wash, because 
 the boys never took anything but two cups 
 and a tin pail. After supper they caught a 
 mess of fish and then watched several wild 
 ducks and geese with their broods of young. 
 
 In a marsh close by, the large golden- 
 headed blackbirds, among the show birds of 
 the plains, sang their strange, reedy matin 
 chorus, a song that sounds like an evolution 
 of the music of the west wind in the dry 
 reeds. 
 
 A pair of night-hawks objected vigor- 
 ously to the presence of the lads. They 
 screamed and swooped down on them with 
 that strange whirr of wings, which is quite 
 terrifying to one who does not know that 
 the night-hawk is but a harmless cousin of 
 the whippoorwill, and like the whippoorwill, 
 never kills or harms anything bigger than 
 bugs and moths and other flying insects. 
 
 The boys looked hard for the eggs or the 
 young, but if either were present among 
 the scant grass on the stony groimd, they 
 
104 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 blended so completely with their surround- 
 ing that it was impossible to find them by 
 looking for them. 
 
 " Let us go home by moonlight," sug- 
 gested Don. " Joe won't care. He said he 
 would hang out a lantern, if we were not 
 home by dark." 
 
 Hank was only too willing to stay out as 
 long as possible. So they played about on 
 the beach, skipped stones on the water and 
 listened again to the call of ducks and rails 
 and the reedy song of the golden-heads. 
 
 Mixed in with the chorus of the golden- 
 heads was a strange little watery song, 
 which, Don said, sounded as if the bird has 
 his bill full of gravel and water, " Zid-zid- 
 zid-zidderee " the little songster seemed to 
 say over and over again. The lads waded 
 into the marsh and found that the song came 
 from a small marsh-wren with a long, 
 slender bill. 
 
 Neither the golden-heads nor the marsh- 
 wrens were at all alarmed. " Look aroimd," 
 they seemed to say. " We don't often have 
 callers. Make yourselves at home." 
 
A BAD NIGHT 105 
 
 The boys soon found the odd nest of the 
 marsh-wren. In fact, they found many of 
 them, looking like mouse-nests made of balls 
 of dry grass. Many of them seemed to be 
 dummies, at least they were empty, and the 
 lads could not understand why the birds 
 had built them ; nor have bird students even 
 of this day learned the secret. 
 
 When the sun had set and the fireflies be- 
 gan to light up the marsh and the meadow 
 Avith a thousand darting sparks, the lads 
 built a big camp-fire of driftwood and sat 
 talking of Boston and of their father in far- 
 away Bozeman. 
 
 After an hour they poured water on the 
 fire and started for camp. When they had 
 passed the shelter of the timber they noted 
 that a fresh breeze had sprung up, and when 
 they reached the lake, the whitecaps had be- 
 gun to show, and black clouds were piling 
 up in the west, looking quite terrifying, as 
 sheets of sharp streaks of lightning played 
 over the dark background. 
 
 " I don't like the looks of those clouds," 
 Hank said. " Perhaps we had better run 
 
106 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 back in the bay. We could sleep under the 
 canoe and go home in the morning." 
 
 " We can make it in an hour and a half, 
 if we run straight for the landing. Joe will 
 hang out a lantern for us; but he will be 
 worried if we don't come home," Don sug- 
 gested. 
 
 When they had been going half an hour, 
 they found that wind and waves were rap- 
 idly increasing, for the west wind has a long 
 sweep over the main body of Lake Minne- 
 waukan. 
 
 " We had better turn back or strike out 
 for shore," said Don. " I am afraid we 
 can't make it." 
 
 "We can't turn around now," replied 
 Hank, " and if we go in the troughs of the 
 waves, we'll get swamped. Pull hard ! I'm 
 afraid the storm will catch us." 
 
 By this time it was dark. Pitch dark, the 
 boys would have called it, if they had had 
 either breath or time left to talk. Both were 
 pulling on their paddles as hard as they 
 could. They knew that they were making a 
 run for their lives. 
 
A BAD NIGHT 107 
 
 Hank did not look for any lantern at the 
 landing. He was no longer trying to reach 
 the landing at the fort, he was doing his ut- 
 most to keep the canoe headed with the wind 
 and to make shore; just make shore any- 
 where. 
 
 But only when the lightning flashed, could 
 he see the black fringe of woods still three 
 miles ahead. 
 
 "Drop your paddle and bail! Bail her 
 out!" he shouted to make himself heard 
 through the wild roar of waves and thunder. 
 "She is filling!" 
 
 Don bailed and bailed, till his arms felt 
 numb, but still he kept on bailing. If he 
 could keep the canoe afloat, they might stifl 
 reach shore, for they were fairly flying along 
 before the wind. 
 
 Suddenly there was a heavy thud. The 
 canoe came to a dead stop. A rock pushed 
 through the bottom of it; the boys fell for- 
 ward, and the furious waves rushed over 
 them. 
 
 " Get out! " shouted Hank, as soon as he 
 had his head above water again. " We 
 
108 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 struck the boulder reef and smashed 
 her!" 
 
 Some large black rocks loomed up a few 
 yards ahead. Half stumblmg and half 
 swimming, both lads made for the big rocks 
 and clung to them. 
 
 " Take your belt off! " Hank called. And 
 by tying his and Don's belt together, he 
 made a rope to throw around the projecting 
 rock. 
 
 "Now catch hold of the life rope!" he 
 called. " If you're washed off, you'll 
 drown ! " 
 
 Every minute the wild uproar grew 
 wilder. Again and again a big swashing 
 wave rolled its white foam clear over the 
 rock and the heads of the lads, lifting the 
 boys off their feet one second and setting 
 them down again the next. They gulped a 
 mouthful of air, when their heads were above 
 the waves, and held their breath while the 
 next wave rushed over them. 
 
 And then the clouds opened, and the rain 
 poured down, whipped into a whirling spray 
 by the gale. 
 
Every minute the wild uproar «r^W wiLUER.^Pape 20^. 
 
A BAD NIGHT 109 
 
 For a moment the boys despaired ; but be- 
 fore they realized it, the fury of the waves 
 was broken by the splashing rain. They still 
 swished and rushed madly over the reef, but 
 they no longer broke over the heads of the 
 boys. It was as if some divine power had 
 said, " Thou shalt not roll higher! " 
 
 The boys had never before observed this 
 apparent miracle of nature, but any man 
 whose life has ever been endangered on a 
 wild wind-swept lake, knows that a pouring 
 rain will break the tumultuous roll of the 
 whitecaps. 
 
 Within half an hour, although it seemed 
 many times that long to the marooned boys, 
 the waves had subsided much; and in an 
 hour, the lake was almost quiet. 
 
 It was only now that the lads had time to 
 think from how great a danger they had 
 escaped. 
 
 " I thought we were headed half a mile 
 south of this reef," said Hank; " and I did 
 not see it before we crashed down on it." 
 
 " It was our luck to strike the reef," Don 
 replied. " We never could have reached 
 
110 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 shore, for I could not have bailed much 
 longer. 
 
 " Couldn't we swim to shore now? I am 
 getting awfully chilled." 
 
 " We would never make it, Don," Hank 
 objected. "It is two miles to the nearest 
 shore on the north side, and we are too much 
 exhausted. We could never make it. We 
 just have to stay here till daylight. 
 
 " Sit down in the water," suggested Hank 
 after a while. " It is much warmer than the 
 air. It is a shame to worry Joe and all our 
 friends. They must think we are drowned." 
 
 " Maybe they think we camped on shore 
 with a nice big fire," Don suggested. 
 
 " Well, they might give us credit for 
 more sense than we had," admitted Hank. 
 " We shall never hear the last of this reef." 
 
 Don had not realized that a night could 
 be so long. The boys waded and swam 
 around on the reef, they sat down in the 
 water, and for a change, climbed on the rock, 
 but it seemed as if morning would never 
 come. Once, while sitting down and leaning 
 against the rock, Don fell asleep and 
 
A BAD NIGHT 111 
 
 tumbled headlong into the water, from 
 which he arose spitting and blowing, much to 
 the amusement of his older brother. 
 
 "Why don't you wade into deep water 
 and close your mouth if j^ou wish to dive? " 
 Hank joked at his expense. 
 
 "Ah, shut up!" Don replied angrily. 
 " You smashed the canoe." 
 
 " Yes, and you did not want to camp on 
 shore, Crosspatch," retorted Hank, still 
 laughing at the accident of Don. 
 
 It was still dark when they saw a light 
 moving about on shore near Fort Totten, 
 Then the light settled do^^^l low on the 
 water and seemed to be coming toward the 
 reef. 
 
 " It's Joe, it's Joe! " Don called, " coming 
 after us with a boat. Brr! I'm cold! " 
 
 Now a gun was fired from the boat and 
 the boys yelled in reply as loud as they 
 could. 
 
 The boat came nearer, but it seemed to be 
 going very slowly. jSTow another gun was 
 fired, and again the boys yelled their best in 
 reply. 
 
112 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 Never had the boys watched anythmg as 
 intently as they watched that light creeping 
 slowly over the water. But horrors! The 
 boat was not headed for the reef. It would 
 pass at least half a mile south of them. 
 
 When the boat came opposite the reef, a 
 faint gray light began to spread over the 
 water, and the lads thought they could make 
 out the shape of two men. Another shot 
 was fired from the boat, which was now 
 passing them at a good rate of speed. 
 
 Again the lads used their lung power 
 to the utmost, but the boat kept on its 
 course. 
 
 Hank stripped off his shirt, climbed on 
 the rock, yelled his loudest and waved the 
 shirt frantically over his head. 
 
 " Here! " exclaimed Don, " take my shirt, 
 too." And once more both lads shouted, 
 Don in a shrill soprano, Hank in a manly 
 bass ; but the boat kept on its course. 
 
 " Give them the Sioux war-whoop! " cried 
 Don. 
 
 " Ki-yi! Ki-yi, Ki-yi," both screamed with 
 all their might, and Hank waved his shirts 
 
A BAD i^IGHT 113 
 
 so violently that he slipped and tumbled 
 backward into the lake. 
 
 " They heard it! They heard it! " cried 
 Don, at the same time having his laugh at his 
 brother's mishap. " They're coming, Hank! 
 It is Joe and Cactus Pete." 
 
 " What in all tarnation business are you 
 blooming kids doing on this reef? " cried Joe 
 when he came within speaking distance. 
 
 " Where is your canoe? " asked Cactus 
 Pete. 
 
 " I don't know," Hank admitted humbly. 
 " I smashed it right here on the rocks." 
 
 " Where are your gims? " 
 
 " In the lake here, on the reef somewhere," 
 Hank answered glumly. " We hunted for 
 them, but we couldn't find them." 
 
 " Well, I'll be darned," Joe expressed his 
 feelings, " if you aren't the foolest kids I 
 ever saw. Why, in thunder, didn't you stay 
 on shore? I'm going to ship you right back 
 to Boston. I would never get you alive to 
 Bozeman anyhow. 
 
 " Hop in, now. Pete, we had better take 
 them home, pour some hot coffee into them, 
 
114 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 and put them to bed. They look pretty 
 blue around the gills. We can hunt for the 
 guns and the canoe some other thne." 
 
 A group of soldiers and Indians was wait- 
 ing on shore when the boat landed. All 
 seemed to be glad that the boys were alive, 
 but that was as far as their sympathy went. 
 The soldiers laughed and their remarks con- 
 tained nothing flattering to the shipwrecked 
 lads, Joe's Boston kids, as the soldiers called 
 them. 
 
 The Indians laughed even more than the 
 soldiers when they understood where the 
 boys had spent the night. 
 
 " Fool white boys! " remarked old Black 
 Thunder. " Go on Minnewaukan in storm. 
 Indian camp on shore." 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE TEMPTATION 
 
 Cactus Pete had become so much inter- 
 ested in the boys that he wanted to go out 
 on the same day and look for the canoe and 
 the guns, but Joe thought they had better 
 take the boys along for that purpose; some- 
 body might have to do a little diving on that 
 errand. 
 
 The boys had never found dry clothing, a 
 warm room, and a hot breakfast quite so 
 agreeable, for when they landed they were 
 so shivering with cold that they could hardly 
 walk to their cabin. 
 
 When the bugler sounded mess call for 
 dinner, they were still sound asleep; and 
 they would have missed supper also, if Joe 
 had not called them. 
 
 Toward five o'clock Joe aroused them. 
 
 " Get up now, boys," he told them. '' The 
 
 bugler will call supper pretty soon." 
 
 115 
 
116 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 " Call supper? " Don asked rubbing his 
 eyes. " Did we miss dinner? I sure slept 
 some." 
 
 Next morning the lads and their two 
 friends began to look for the canoe and the 
 guns. Joe had expected to find the canoe 
 on shore, probably smashed beyond repair, 
 but there was no canoe to be seen, although 
 they made a careful search for it. 
 
 " Where did you lose your guns? " asked 
 Pete. 
 
 " They were in the canoe when we 
 struck," the boys claimed. 
 
 " Joe," Cactus Pete suggested, " the ca- 
 noe must have been swept off the reef into 
 deep water. I calculate that it is lying 
 somewhere on the bottom, with the guns in 
 it." 
 
 So they rowed to the reef and, with a hook 
 fixed to a long pole, they began to drag for 
 the canoe, and after a good deal of work, 
 they raised the canoe out of ten feet of 
 water. Both guns were still in the canoe, 
 which had one large hole in the bottom. 
 
 Old Chief Black Thunder found a piece 
 
THE TEMPTATION 117 
 
 of birch bark, which his squaw had brought 
 from Minnesota, and showed the boys how 
 to patch the hole, so the canoe would be as 
 good as before. The only things which 
 the boys did not recover were their hats and 
 their fishing tackle. Their hats had been 
 blown off long before the canoe struck the 
 reef, and the boys never saAv them again. 
 
 Cactus Pete told them that it was lucky 
 for them that they had struck the reef. If 
 they had not, they surely would have lost 
 their valuable guns, and he doubted very 
 much that they could have drifted to shore 
 by holding on to the swamped canoe, even 
 if they had had presence of mind enough to 
 throw their guns overboard. 
 
 " Don't you ever go on this lake again," 
 he warned them, " when a storm is coming 
 up." 
 
 The traders, after recovering from their 
 scare on the Souris, decided to start east for 
 Minnesota; where they hoped to sell their 
 goods to the friendly Chippewas east of Red 
 River. The commander of the fort, partly 
 
118 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 to see them safely off and partly to keep his 
 men in condition, furnished them an escort 
 for the first fifty miles, and that was the last 
 seen of them. 
 
 For Joe and his boys the stay at Lake 
 Minnewaukan turned out to be much longer 
 than they had expected; for the commander 
 refused to let them start for Montana with- 
 out direct orders from the Department 
 Headquarters at St. Paul. 
 
 There was no telegraph connection be- 
 tween Fort Totten and St. Paul in those 
 days, and the mail came through very slowly 
 and irregularly. 
 
 " If you and the boys will give your word 
 not to leave without a permit, you can stay 
 here," the commander told them, " otherwise 
 I shall send you back east with the traders." 
 
 It was a hard choice for Joe and his boys. 
 
 "Why don't you start with the traders?" 
 the post saddler suggested to Joe. " After 
 the escort has left you, you can turn around 
 and start for Montana, and the commander 
 will know nothing about it. These officers 
 think they are running the country." 
 
THE TEMPTATION 119 
 
 Joe bit his moustache and looked at the 
 boys, and the boys looked at him. 
 
 " We would like to start awfully well, Old 
 Knives. But your way wouldn't do. 
 Would it?" 
 
 "Why wouldn't it?" the old saddler ar- 
 gued. " I don't think Colonel Hunt would 
 care, if he knew. If you are in a hurry to 
 get away, that's the way to do it." 
 
 "It won't do, Gill. It won't do!" Joe 
 decided. " The captain's men saved our 
 lives, he has his orders and he is much con- 
 cerned about our safety. We can't do any- 
 thing underhanded against him." 
 
 " Joe, you are the most squeamish fellow 
 I ever met. I suppose you wouldn't even 
 desert, no matter how dead things were in an 
 old fort like this." 
 
 " No, you bet I would not," Joe flashed 
 back at the old man. " I enlisted twice and 
 stuck out my time, but life was not dull 
 while we were with Custer." 
 
 " Well, I think you are foolish," the old 
 saddler persisted. " Who cares, anyhow? " 
 
 " That's the way a lot of you fellows talk," 
 
120 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 Joe retorted, getting angry. " Who cares? 
 What's the difference? If nobody else 
 cares, every man himself should care, 
 whether he is doing an honorable thing or a 
 sneaky thing." 
 
 "All right, Joe," Gill came back with a 
 final remark. " I can't see it as you do. I 
 am off to my shop." 
 
 Joe talked the prospects over with the 
 boys and they agreed with him that the plan 
 Gill had suggested was underhanded. 
 
 So they gave their word to Colonel Hunt, 
 and the traders started for Red River with- 
 out Joe and his boys. 
 
 On the evening of the fourth day, the sol- 
 diers who had escorted the traders returned 
 to Fort Totten. They had seen several 
 small parties of Indians, who had, however, 
 not come within hailing distance. Whether 
 they were friendly hunting parties from the 
 Devil's Lake Reservation, or whether they 
 belonged to the renegade bands in Manitoba, 
 the soldiers did not know. 
 
 With the next mail Colonel Hunt received 
 a letter from Walsh Rankin. The traders 
 
THE TEMPTATION 121 
 
 had safely reached the settlements east of 
 the Red River, but not without more fight- 
 ing. Some Indians had run off all their ex- 
 tra horses, and they had barely saved their 
 goods and their lives. 
 
 " If Joe and his Boston boys still wish to 
 cross the Sioux country to Bozeman, we 
 wish them joy and happiness," the letter 
 ended. " We are glad to be back among 
 white people with our scalps still on." 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 CACTUS PETE 
 
 To say that Joe and the boys were always 
 glad that they had not left with the traders 
 would not be telling the truth. 
 
 " Durn it all, Pete," Joe one day gave 
 vent to his impatience while talking to his 
 old friend, " this is the longest I have ever 
 been under arrest in all my born years. I 
 almost wish I had enlisted again, then my 
 time would be laid out for me and I would 
 know what to do. I wonder if the Colonel 
 would mind if the boys and I went out 
 scouting and hunting now and then with the 
 soldiers? " 
 
 Cactus Pete soon came with word that the 
 Colonel would be glad to have Joe and the 
 boys go with the soldiers, whenever they felt 
 like it. 
 
 The boys as well as Joe made frequent 
 
 use of this permit, and the boys learned 
 
 122 
 
CACTUS PETE 123 
 
 much about the plains and about the men 
 with whom they travelled. 
 
 It was at the evening camp-fire on one of 
 these scouting trips that Cactus Pete told 
 the boys how he came by his nickname. 
 
 " It was in the Yellowstone campaign of 
 1873 under Stanley. I was carrying dis- 
 patches to Fort Buford. The country was 
 dangerous, and I had gone alone because one 
 man can conceal himself so much better than 
 two or three. I had provisions for four days 
 and rode the best horse in my company. 
 The first two days out I was pretty careful. 
 I lay up during the day, like an owl, and 
 travelled at night. I saw many Indians. 
 The country seemed to be alive with them. 
 Once I thought they had me. I had laid up 
 for the day in some willows in a ravine not 
 more than fifty yards from a spring. 
 
 "Late in the afternoon I suddenly saw 
 five or six Indians come down from the 
 prairie into the ravine. They were on foot, 
 but were all armed, and I figured that they 
 had left their horses and were coming to the 
 spring for a drink. My horse was grazing 
 
124 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 near the willows, in plain sight from the 
 spring. 
 
 " It did not take me long to hustle that 
 horse mider cover. Then I lay down to 
 watch. If they came to that little willow 
 thicket, they could not help almost rmming 
 into me. 
 
 " They looked at the spring and talked. 
 * Somebody has been here ! ' that is what they 
 said, I reckon. Fortunately the ground near 
 the spring was stony and showed no tracks, 
 and I had taken care not to make any sort of 
 a trail to my camp. Oh, I was mighty care- 
 ful on that trip. 
 
 " They all took a drink, and then sat down 
 to smoke. Believe me, no smoke ever lasted 
 so long to me. At last they arose. That 
 was the moment I had my rifle ready and my 
 pistols handy. If they were on foot, they 
 would come down the trail through the wil- 
 lows and couldn't help discovering me. 
 
 " They went the other way, and I knew 
 they were a party on horseback. I had been 
 thinking of starting a small fire for cooking 
 supper, just before I saw them against the 
 
CACTUS PETE 125 
 
 sky on the edge of the ravine. I decided 
 that a little fire in my old pipe was all the fire 
 I really wanted that evening." 
 
 " That was the time you were scared, 
 Pete," Joe bantered his old friend. 
 
 " It was one of the times, but not the only 
 time," Pete frankly admitted. ** But at this 
 place I had plenty of time to get over being 
 scared and plan what to do." 
 
 " What could you have done, if they had 
 come down the trail? " asked Joe. 
 
 "Turned the game on them!" replied 
 Pete grimly. *' They were all painted for 
 war, but I saw them first, and I could shoot 
 seven times without reloading." 
 
 Then Pete told how he had travelled all 
 night, and the next morning had laid up in a 
 place where it w^as possible to slip away in 
 more than one direction. 
 
 " During the day I gave Bones, that was 
 the name of my horse, the last oats I had 
 taken along, for I expected to make Fort 
 Buford by morning. I crawled up to a 
 ridge several times and scouted in regular 
 Indian fashion by lying flat on my stomach 
 
126 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 and peering long in every direction. But 
 not a sign of Indians could I discover. No 
 smoke, no tepee, no horsemen or ponies, no 
 game running as if hunters had disturbed it. 
 
 " So I built a small fire and cooked me a 
 good supper, and about sunset I started on 
 the last stretch for Fort Buford. 
 
 " When it was getting dusky, I was jog- 
 ging along at a good gait and sort of con- 
 gratulating myself that I had done a right 
 smart thing, and that I would be twenty -five 
 dollars better off for carrying the dispatches. 
 
 " Just before I turned the corner of some 
 rocks I stopped to listen. I heard some 
 noise, but thought it came from buffaloes or 
 elk; and the next moment half a dozen Sioux 
 were almost on top of me. I think there 
 were about six of them, but I took no time to 
 count them. ' The same bunch looking for 
 you ! ' it flashed through my mind. Well, be- 
 fore they could surround me or make a rush 
 at me, I fired my rifle at them and a couple 
 of pistol shots, so as to give me a start for a 
 place where I could make a stand, half a mile 
 back. 
 
CACTUS PETE 127 
 
 " But Bones had gotten scared. Maybe 
 he was hit, too, for it seemed to me the whole 
 gang fired at us at once. Anyway, I could 
 not control him. He dashed wildly up a ra- 
 vine with me, stumbled over some hole or 
 rock, and I was pitched over his head and 
 landed flat on my back in a cactus-bed 
 among a jumble of rocks. 
 
 " I have always been surprised that I did 
 not let out a yell. But, at first, I reckon I 
 was too excited and then I was too scared. 
 
 " Bones got up right away. But he didn't 
 wait for me, and two reds dashed after him 
 and caught him. Twice they passed me so 
 close that I felt they would see me, but they 
 didn't. It was getting pretty dark and the 
 rocks kind of hid me from sight. 
 
 " They hurried away with Bones, and I 
 guess he hasn't eaten any oats since." 
 
 " Didn't they come back to look for you? " 
 asked Don. 
 
 " No; their natural caution saved my life. 
 Those who caught Bones must have been 
 very young men, for an old warrior would 
 have reasoned that I had dismounted and 
 
128 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 concealed myself, and he would have fol- 
 loAved me into that gulch. 
 
 "As soon as I felt safe, I picked myself off 
 the cactus-bed. After a while I found my 
 rifle and crept out of the gulch the other 
 way. I was terribly sore, but I reached 
 Fort Buford the next day; where the sur- 
 geon and my friends took me in hand." 
 
 " Pretty near bedtime, lads," Pete re- 
 marked after a while. " Good-night, boys! 
 I hope you will not dream of rattlesnakes or 
 cactus-beds ! " 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 WORSE PROSPECTS 
 
 In this way the lads put in their time very 
 profitably. Not only did they become sea- 
 soned horsemen and scouts ; they also learned 
 a good deal about the Indians and their 
 ways, for about one thousand Sioux, all sup- 
 posed to be friendly, lived at that time on 
 their reservation at Devil's Lake. 
 
 Altogether, about 20,000 Sioux were al- 
 ready at that time living on various reserva- 
 tions east of the Missouri River. 
 
 It was only the Western Sioux and North- 
 ern Cheyennes who were openly hostile, and 
 threatened to kill every white man who went 
 upon their large reservation without their 
 consent. And that they were ready to carry 
 out their threat they had shown on many oc- 
 casions. Why the government did not more 
 conscientiously keep the treaty made with 
 
 these tribes in 1868 has never been explained 
 
 129 
 
130 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 and is one of the dark blots on the fair his- 
 tory of the United States. 
 
 About the first of August Colonel Hunt 
 heard from Department Headquarters at 
 St. Paul that the three men bound for Mon- 
 tana might go, but the letter stated that the 
 commander considered such a journey at this 
 time extremely dangerous without a strong 
 military escort, whie-. cne department could 
 not furnish. 
 
 By this time, however, Joe seemed no 
 longer desirous to start. 
 
 He had become convinced that the many 
 reports and rumors which had reached Fort 
 Totten in various ways were only too true. 
 
 There was a steamer, the Josephine, ex- 
 ploring the Yellowstone. She had gone up 
 as far as the mouth of the Big Horn and 
 some forty miles beyond to Pompey's Pillar. 
 This so-called pillar is a lone rock on which 
 Captain Clark of the Lewis and Clark expe- 
 dition had inscribed his name, " Wm. Clark, 
 July 25, 1806." This inscription may be 
 seen on Pompey's Tower, as Lewis and 
 Clark called it, to this very day. 
 
WORSE PROSPECTS 131 
 
 General J. W. Forsyth was on the Yel- 
 lowstone with some troops. Soldiers in that 
 country could do no good, unless they were 
 able to inflict a crushing defeat on the hostile 
 tribes. 
 
 What did it all mean? Was the govern- 
 ment preparing a winter campaign? Or 
 were all these moves preparatory for a real 
 war against the Sioux the next year, in the 
 summer of 1876? 
 
 Joe and Pete had long discussions about 
 it. *' If the government cannot or will not 
 keep white men off the Sioux reservation," 
 Pete gave as his opinion, " and the Indians 
 will not consent to another treaty, it is high 
 time the government shows its authority and 
 power. As it is, the Indians are getting 
 bolder and more desperate every day. We 
 gave up Fort Phil Kearney, after we buried 
 many of our best soldiers there. The Sioux 
 know that they have reached their last buf- 
 falo grounds. White skin-hunters are 
 slaughtering the animals by tens of thou- 
 sands every year. 
 
 " If the white men are allowed to hunt on 
 
132 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 their last big reservation, the buffaloes will 
 be killed off. The Indians will have noth- 
 ing to eat, and the old days are gone, gone 
 forever! 
 
 " It will take a big force to compel these 
 brave tribes to give up the wild, free life of 
 their ancestors and live on small reserva- 
 tions, where they must raise stock, farm, and 
 depend on rations from the government." 
 
 " Yes," admitted Joe sadly, " these are 
 bad days for the free Indian. It looks as if 
 the old days were coming rapidly to an 
 end." 
 
 " Thar's going to be some big fights afore 
 they come to an end," predicted Pete, falling 
 into his Plains dialect. " If I could get into 
 it, I sure would enlist again, but sticking 
 around here at Fort Totten is pretty dead 
 business." 
 
 " Pete, I have had enough of the regular 
 Indian war since our big fight on the Wa- 
 shita. You know, Pete, when you surprise 
 an Indian camp, they will all fight, men, 
 squaws, and boys. White people would do 
 the same. Now, I don't mind going after 
 
WORSE PROSPECTS 133 
 
 these painted warriors, but having to fight 
 squaws and boys or be killed by them, that 
 goes against me. 
 
 " Going after these roaming bands of 
 thieves and murderers suits me well enough. 
 I would delight in a chance to run down Ink- 
 padoota and his band of cutthroats, who 
 have killed and robbed harmless whites these 
 twenty years. They are living in Canada 
 now, I hear, but nobody knows where they 
 are roaming about." 
 
 " When are you going to start west with 
 the lads? " asked Pete after a while. 
 
 " I don't know," said Joe gloomily. " I 
 am afraid to risk the lives of the boys, for I 
 don't think we would ever get through." 
 
 " Right you are," Pete admitted. " It 
 was never so dangerous to cross the plains as 
 it is now. You would be sure to fall in with 
 parties from Canada, or from the rene- 
 gades at Fort Peck in Montana. In fact, I 
 don't trust any of them. They are all dan- 
 gerous now; and the big prairie tells no 
 tales." 
 
 " ^^Hiy don't you make a dash in the win- 
 
134 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 ter? They lie pretty low during the cold 
 weather," suggested Pete. 
 
 " I have thought of that," Joe replied. 
 " But I am afraid of the blizzards in this 
 northern country. Freezing to death is as 
 bad as being killed by Indians. Travelling 
 in winter was bad enough down south ; but it 
 would be much worse in this country." 
 
 "An old campaigner like you could take 
 care of himself. If a blizzard catches you, 
 you den up till the storm is over." 
 
 " Yes, if you happen to be in a country 
 where you can find shelter," Joe agreed. " I 
 will think it over. Maybe a winter jour- 
 ney would offer our only chance of getting 
 through." 
 
 Both sat in silence for a time. Pete's 
 term of enlistment expired the first of No- 
 vember, and Joe had often wondered what 
 the old soldier would do then. Would he 
 enlist again? If he did, Pete would be a 
 soldier for life. The type was not uncom- 
 mon on the plains in those days. Many of 
 them were men without near relatives or 
 friends. The United States Army was their 
 
WORSE PROSPECTS 135 
 
 family, and the lone military post on the In- 
 dian frontier was their home. Brave and 
 hardy men they were, who cheerfully volun- 
 teered for the most dangerous duties of the 
 service. 
 
 When explorers and surveyors needed 
 fearless helpers, who always, and as a matter 
 of habit, first thought of the work to be done 
 and last of their o^vn safety and comfort, 
 they chose men who had served as regulars 
 in the United States Army. These un- 
 kno^vn regulars and the officers trained at 
 West Point have served as a nucleus for 
 our army in all of our wars, and the country 
 owes them a debt, which it can never pay. 
 
 In many nameless graves all over the 
 Great Plains these veterans are sleeping, in 
 the cemeteries of a hundred scattered posts, 
 in the South, in Cuba, in the Philippines, 
 and on the battlefields of France. Honor 
 to their ashes! 
 
 "Can our horses stand winter travel?" 
 asked Joe after a while. " We could not 
 carry forage for them." 
 
 "Wall," drawled Pete, "why not take 
 
136 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 mules? You know most of the army scouts 
 ride mules. They find their own meal at 
 any time." 
 
 " Mules? " repeated Joe. " No mules for 
 me. A horse is company and sort of half 
 human ; but a mule is always an ornery cross 
 of a critter. I should be bad company if I 
 had to ride a mule." 
 
 "All right," growled Pete. "Take 
 horses, if mules are not stylish enough for 
 you Boston fellows. But my advice is : take 
 mules, if you are going to risk the journey 
 in winter." 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 JOE IN TEOUBLE 
 
 When Joe and his boys had first arrived 
 at Fort Totten they had written to Thomas 
 Stamford at Bozeman, telling him what had 
 happened to interrupt their journey and in- 
 forming him that they could not tell now 
 when they would agam start west. 
 
 About the middle of August Joe received 
 an answer to his letter. 
 
 '* I would not advise you," Stamford 
 wrote, " to risk a trip across the plains from 
 Fort Totten. As far as we can learn here, 
 there are hunting parties and war parties of 
 Indians everywhere. There has been a 
 steamer on the Yellowstone with soldiers 
 and a Gatling gun, but I fail to see that they 
 have done any good, no more than all the 
 other campaigns on the Yellowstone. They 
 have only irritated and angered the Indians. 
 
 " Some people think there is going to be a 
 
 137 
 
138 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 big campaign against the Sioux next sum- 
 mer. All I can say is that it will have to be 
 big, if it is going to accomplish anything. 
 
 "An old trapper here, who knows many 
 Crow and Sioux Indians, claims that the 
 hostile Sioux and the Cheyennes can muster 
 5,000 warriors, and that the Indians are well 
 armed and have plenty of ammunition. 
 Strange as it seems, Indians can buy both 
 good rifles and ammunition at all the gov- 
 ernment agencies east of the Missouri. And 
 who can tell where rifles and ammunition go 
 after they are once turned over to an Indian? 
 
 " Perhaps you could get through after the 
 Sioux have moved into their winter camps. 
 Otherwise you had better return to Minne- 
 sota and come by way of the Union Pacific 
 and the stage route from Salt Lake City." 
 
 When Joe showed this letter to the boys, 
 his doubts and troubles were in no way less- 
 ened. 
 
 Where were all the Indians that had the 
 5,000 warriors? the boys wanted to know. 
 If they were camping and hunting south of 
 the Yellowstone, the boys could not see why 
 it would not be quite safe to travel westward 
 on a route fifty miles north of the Yellow- 
 stone. 
 
JOE m TEOUBLE 139 
 
 Joe seemed to be in an ugly mood on this 
 day. 
 
 " There are a lot of things you yoimgsters 
 don't see," he replied testily, " and a lot of 
 things you forget. 
 
 *' There are a thousand Sioux in Manitoba 
 north of us and a thousand of them west of 
 us on the Missouri; and there must be 15,000 
 of them south of the Yellowstone. These 
 are the openly hostile tribes. There are 
 20,000 more, who are supposed to be 
 friendly. Do you fellows think all these 
 people live on grass ? No, they have to hunt 
 for their meat, for every meal of it. Have 
 you ever thought that these people, I mean 
 the hostiles, who receive no government ra- 
 tions, need about 500 buffaloes every day, 
 or other game to take the place of the buf- 
 faloes? I suppose you fellows think they 
 rope all this game near their camps. No, 
 they don't. They have to roam all over the 
 plains to find enough food. There is no 
 more game near a permanent Indian camp 
 than there is near a white man's town. 
 
 " So I know, even if I hadn't seen it with 
 
140 THE THREAT OF SITTmG BULL 
 
 my own eyes, that the country between Can- 
 ada and the Yellowstone is full of hunting 
 parties, and in these days every Sioux hunt- 
 ing party is a war party. If the govern- 
 ment had set out to make the Sioux hate the 
 white men, it could not have done any better, 
 I am surprised that they have not all joined 
 Crazy Horse, Gall, Sitting Bull and the 
 other hostile chiefs." 
 
 The boys did not wish to go back to the 
 States, they did still wish to cross the plains, 
 although they had not thought much of the 
 things which Joe had pointed out. 
 
 Hank asked if it would not be a good plan 
 to engage one or two of the friendly Indians 
 at Fort Totten to go with them. 
 
 " Oh, but could you trust them? " asked 
 Don. 
 
 " I would not hesitate to trust them," Joe 
 asserted. " In that respect Indians are 
 much like white men; you must know when 
 to trust and whom to trust. 
 
 " But I would not take an Indian along," 
 he continued. " He would be true enough; 
 but he would not obey orders. If we got 
 
JOE IN TROUBLE 141 
 
 into a tight place he would want to run and 
 give up the game. In that respect most In- 
 dians are a good deal like boys. 
 
 " If they can do a thing right away, they 
 do it. But if it is hard or very dangerous, or 
 takes a long time, they get tired of it, just 
 like boys, and want to give it up. Indians 
 seldom follow up an advantage in a fight un- 
 less they can do so at once." 
 
 Hank and Don looked at each other as if 
 they felt guilty of neglecting or forgetting 
 something. 
 
 " Yes, you fellows just take the hint," Joe 
 laughed, " although I did not mean it as a 
 hint. Pete says you are getting pretty lazy 
 about hoeing his corn and potatoes. I 
 should think you would get tired of fishing 
 and swimming every day. A little hoeing 
 will do you good." 
 
 " When you scouted for Custer south of 
 the Arkansas," Don ventured, "' you trav- 
 elled through dangerous country all alone or 
 with another man. We could travel pretty 
 fast over the three hundred miles to Boze- 
 man." 
 
142 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 " Three hundred miles? " exclaimed Joe. 
 " Where did you get that notion? It is six 
 hundred miles as the crow flies and seven 
 hundred on horseback; maybe eight hundred 
 by the time you are there. 
 
 " Well, I have made up my mind that we 
 will not leave before the first of October. 
 By that time the Indians will be making 
 their great fall buffalo hunt, or will be mov- 
 ing to their regular winter camps; and will 
 not roam so much everywhere. 
 
 " Maybe, by that time we shall hear some 
 good news ; thus far we have had nothing but 
 bad news. 
 
 '' You fellows can take in the fall hunting 
 now for ducks and geese. But do learn to 
 shoot; don't waste ammunition, but start 
 bringing in some game for the camp. 
 Everybody in the mess is pretty tired of salt 
 beef and picKerel. I shall write your father 
 that we will not start imtil October." 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 DON AT THE DOCTOR^S 
 
 During the latter part of August wild 
 ducks, geese, and swans lose their wing 
 feathers, and for a week or two they cannot 
 fly. However, at this time of the year all 
 kinds of food are abundant and by the first 
 of September the wild millions can again sail 
 the air on swift and strong wings ; for wild 
 ducks, geese, and swans are wonderful fliers, 
 and seem to enjoy travelling through the 
 crisp autumn air as much as any boy ever 
 enjoyed playing ball. 
 
 Of feathered game, there was an abun- 
 dance at that time, which to-day seems al- 
 most unbelievable. 
 
 Wild ducks are early risers. Before the 
 last stars have quite faded away at the ap- 
 proach of daylight, one hears the whirr and 
 whistle of their wings, as large and small 
 
 flocks are passing to good feeding-grounds. 
 
 143 
 
144 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 During the noon hours most of them seem to 
 be taking a nap, but from the middle of the 
 afternoon they are again in the air until 
 after dark ; for most wild birds, and animals, 
 too, eat only two good meals a day. 
 
 Joe had fixed a few strict hunting rules 
 for his boys. They were not to do any'^pot- 
 hunting, which means that they were not to 
 shoot any birds sitting on the water. And 
 they were not to waste ammunition. Every 
 bird missed counted a mark against the 
 hunter. 
 
 But even with these rules, it was not diffi- 
 cult to keep the mess table supplied with 
 choice game, for which restaurants and ho- 
 tels in Boston and New York would now 
 charge, at least, five dollars a bird, if the 
 law allowed them to serve and sell wild 
 game. 
 
 The lakes and sloughs of the prairie 
 States and provinces are the greatest breed- 
 ing-places for wild ducks and geese in the 
 world, and only hunters and naturalists real- 
 ize how many kinds of wild ducks and geese 
 are at home in North America. 
 
DON AT THE DOCTOR'S 145 
 
 On the smaller varieties, such as teal, buf- 
 fle-heads, or butterballs, the lads could not 
 afford to waste their expensive ammunition. 
 The millions of blackbirds^ snipes, curlews, 
 and mud-hens were also too small game. 
 Only the large well-flavored ducks ; Canvas- 
 backs, redheads, and mallards, were fair 
 game. 
 
 At first they found it hard to recognize the 
 birds on the wing and made many mistakes 
 by bringing home pintails, spoonbills, and 
 sawbills. The pintails and spoonbills look 
 large on the wing, but have only a small 
 body. The sawbills the boys were com- 
 pelled to eat themselves. They are fish- 
 ducks, and have the taste of their food, and 
 the soldiers would not eat them; but it was 
 the rule that all ducks killed must be brought 
 home and eaten. 
 
 It is easy to distinguish the twenty or 
 more kinds of wild ducks in a museum or on 
 good pictures, but it took the boys a week to 
 tell them by their field marks at a distance. 
 
 Most of their duck-hunting the boys did 
 on good passes, where low bushes furnished 
 
146 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 natural blinds, and where they did not lose 
 their birds in dense rushes and tall grass. 
 
 The big, honking geese were much more 
 difficult to get. They are far more wary 
 than ducks, and generally fly too high to be 
 brought down with a shotgun. Again and 
 again, the young hunters fired at them as the 
 long honking lines passed over ; only to hear 
 the shot click harmlessly on the big wings, 
 while the great wavy line passed on without 
 a break ; for wild geese generally fly in lines 
 with a V-shaped hook in front. Why they 
 fly in this manner is not known. 
 
 With one big wild gander, Don had an ex- 
 perience which made him the butt of a good 
 many jokes on the part of Cactus Pete and 
 the other soldiers of the mess. 
 
 Don had dropped the bird in some low 
 bushes, and as it was the first goose he had 
 brought down, he ran eagerly to pick it up. 
 But the big gander had only been winged, 
 and before Don could secure him, the vi- 
 ciously striking goose split one of Don's ears 
 almost in two. 
 
 The wound looked so serious and bled so 
 
DON AT THE DOCTOR'S 147 
 
 freely that Hank tied it up with his handker- 
 chief and hurried the young hunter home to 
 the surgeon. 
 
 " Well, son," said the doctor, " that is a 
 pretty bad rip. I guess I shall have to sew 
 the pieces together. Shall I give you some 
 chloroform? " 
 
 Hank left the room when the doctor got 
 his needle ready, but Don told the doctor to 
 go ahead without any chloroform. 
 
 " If girls can have their ears pricked for 
 earrings," he said, " I guess a fellow can 
 stand having his ear sewed together again." 
 
 The wound healed quickly under the sur- 
 geon's care, but every morning, when Don 
 started out for the day's hunt with his head 
 in a fresh bandage, the jokers did not spare 
 him. 
 
 " It would not be a bad thing," suggested 
 Cactus Pete, " if an Indian scout had three 
 ears." 
 
 " Right you are, Pete," one of the soldiers 
 added. " Maybe, Don, you could find a 
 gander who would rip the other ear for you. 
 An Indian scout with four ears couldn't be 
 
148 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 beat. You could hire out to General Custer 
 for a hundred dollars a month and free 
 horses and grub." 
 
 " Drop the chaff, men," Joe would some- 
 times say, when his small ward was beset too 
 hard. " Try your wit on each other, you 
 big sticks, and let the small boy alone." But 
 in spite of anything Joe could do, Don never 
 quite heard the last about the danger he was 
 exposed to in hunting wild geese. 
 
 Cactus Pete, although he had begun to 
 speak of " our boys," teased the lads in many 
 ways. He delighted especially in telling his 
 strange experiences in such a way that the 
 boj'^s did not always know whether he was 
 relating facts or was testing the gullibility 
 of his tenderfoot friends. 
 
 " Well, boys," he began one evening, 
 " those Canada ganders are pretty danger- 
 ous songbirds, but they are harmless canaries 
 compared with one of those large water- 
 birds in California and Oregon." 
 
 "What bird is that?" asked Don 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Wall, when I lived on the coast, a 
 
DON AT THE DOCTOR'S 149 
 
 strange thing happened to a small Indian 
 boy on Lake Tahoe." 
 
 " Pete, when were you on Lake Tahoe? " 
 Joe asked with a warning glance. 
 
 " I was born there," Pete declared boldly. 
 " Wall, this small Injun lad was taking a 
 swim, when a flock of them big Western Peli- 
 cans alighted near him and began fishing. 
 One of them scooped up this Injun lad and 
 stored him away m his beak pouch. The lad 
 couldn't get out nohow. He got so hungry 
 that he had to eat some of the fish the pelican 
 caught. Of course, he had plenty of water 
 to drink. When old Chief Tillamook heard 
 that a pelican had caught something so big 
 that he couldn't fly, he sort of guessed where 
 the lost boy was. He ordered seven of his 
 young men to go after the bird with ropes. 
 They lassoed the pelican and took the boy 
 out of his beak. The lad wasn't much the 
 worse for his experience, but when I seen 
 him last, he still had the scar on his back, 
 where the pelican caught him with the crook 
 on the end of his beak." 
 
 The lads looked at Joe for a sign of dis- 
 
150 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 approval, but Joe sat there as unmoved as 
 an Indian chief in council. 
 
 " Now," began Pete, encouraged by his 
 apparent success, " I'll tell you a story that 
 I had from the mouth of the best scout that 
 ever served the government, Jim Bridger. 
 You know Bridger? " he asked turning to 
 Joe, who said he had met him once. 
 
 "Wall," continued Pete, "if you ever 
 reach the upper Yellowstone, you may find 
 a strange river. Bridger once had to cross 
 this river, and he took off his boots to wade 
 across, using a spear to steady himself in the 
 terrible current. Wall, before Jim got half 
 across he pretty near scalded the soles of his 
 feet, for the current was so swift that it made 
 the bottom of the river as hot as the top of a 
 stove. Bridger named the stream Fire Hole 
 River. 
 
 " We started to laugh at him, but Jim 
 swore the story was true as Gospel, but he 
 wouldn't tell it to any eastern tenderfoot, 
 who would call a man a liar, just because he 
 had seen things which the wise ones in Bos- 
 ton haven't heard about." 
 
DON AT THE DOCTOR^S 151 
 
 Again the boys looked at Joe with ques- 
 tioning eyes, but Joe only remarked: 
 
 " Be a little careful, Pete, when you cross 
 that old bridge near the barracks." 
 
 " I never cross it after dark," Pete re- 
 plied, quietly taking his hat. " I always go 
 around it. Good-night to you all." 
 
 Joe still had a smile on his face when Pete 
 was gone. 
 
 "That last story is true," he began. 
 " That river bed is really hot, but it is not 
 the friction of the swift current which makes 
 it hot. The river flows over a bed of lava 
 rock, which is still hot. Old Bridger told 
 the truth of what he observed, but he did not 
 understand the cause," 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 WINGED MILLIONS 
 
 Time passed so quickly to the lads that 
 they seemed to have forgotten that they had 
 already been at Fort Totten much longer 
 than they had expected, and that they had 
 before them a long dangerous journey to 
 the upper Yellowstone. 
 
 Joe also seemed to have forgotten about 
 that dangerous western trip, for the first of 
 October arrived and he said nothing about 
 starting. However, he and Pete frequently 
 had long talks in Joe's cabin, but when the 
 boys came in they grew silent or changed the 
 subject. 
 
 The lads frequently left their canoe some 
 miles from the fort and rode to their hunt- 
 ing-grounds on horseback, picketing the 
 animals till they had secured a load of game. 
 
 About the middle of October the weather 
 
 152 
 
WINGED MILLIONS 153 
 
 turned cold, and now all the ducks and geese 
 of the country seemed to be going south by- 
 way of Lake Minnewaukan. 
 
 One evening as the lads entered the cabin, 
 where Joe and Pete were having one of their 
 long talks, the young hunters were much 
 excited. 
 
 "Oh, Pete!" exclaimed Don, "you and 
 Joe ought to go hunting with us. We saw 
 two million ducks to-day. And we saw a 
 hundred thousand geese, many big flocks of 
 white ones." 
 
 " You are getting to be pretty good liars," 
 remarked Pete with a sly wink at Joe. 
 
 " No, honestly, we did," Hank seconded 
 his brother. " The bays and the whole lake 
 are full of them. Big flocks of bluebills, mal- 
 lards, canvasbacks and redheads, and thou- 
 sands of others were coming and going all 
 day long. Toward evening they were as 
 thick as blackbirds. We counted 10,000 of 
 them from one spot, and millions of other 
 small birds are there." 
 
 " How could you count ten thousand? " 
 asked Joe, appearing to be skeptical. 
 
154 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 " We kind of divided them up into patches 
 of a thousand," explained Hank, " and you 
 couldn't imagine how many there were." 
 
 Don and Hank did not at all exaggerate 
 the number of water-fowl they saw. Their 
 number in those days almost passed belief. 
 Even at the present time millions of them 
 breed on the plains as far north as the Arctic 
 Ocean and pass north and south every year 
 like two great tidal waves of winged life. 
 
 Even in the fall of 1919 about 1,500,000 
 water-fowl were killed in the State of Minne- 
 sota alone, according to statistics gathered 
 by the State Game and Fish Commissioner. 
 
 In the middle seventies white hunters had 
 not materially decreased the number of game 
 birds, and settlers had encroached but little 
 upon their breeding-grounds. 
 
 The Indians never made any impression 
 at all on the feathered game of the country. 
 As long as buffalo and deer and other game 
 animals could still be secured, the Indians 
 could not afford to waste expensive ammuni- 
 tion on ducks and geese. They found the 
 meat of game animals much more satisfying, 
 
WINGED MILLIONS 155 
 
 and some of the Plains tribes, like the Black- 
 feet, would not eat feathered game at all. 
 
 Before the Indians had firearms, the 
 shooting of game-birds was largely a sport 
 for the boys, the men hunting buffalo, deer, 
 elk, moose, mountain sheep, and antelope. 
 The making of arrows involved much work, 
 and the hunter recovered his arrow whenever 
 he could do so. Sometimes the hunters even 
 cut the bullets out of the game, so as to use 
 them again ; because everything the Indians 
 bought of the traders cost them a high price 
 in furs and buffalo robes, and the nearest 
 trading post was often hundreds of miles 
 away from their hunting-grounds. 
 
 But let us return to our story. 
 
 " Have you hunted enough? " asked Joe, 
 after the boys had eaten their supper. "We 
 are going to start west in about two weeks, 
 and Pete is going with us." 
 
 " Is Pete going with us? Ai-e you, Pete? " 
 both lads cried at once. And then they 
 shouted and danced and threw their arms 
 around the old soldier, till he was quite em- 
 barrassed. 
 
156 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 " Let up on that, boys," he remonstrated. 
 " The guard will thmk Joe has smuggled 
 some fire-water into his shack. 
 
 " Yes, I am going with you. We are go- 
 ing to try and fool them with a winter cam- 
 paign as Joe and Custer did south of the 
 Arkansas. It is going to be pretty cold 
 travelling. But if we strike good weather, 
 and our horses don't give out, maybe we 
 can do it." 
 
 "What do we do if we meet Indians?" 
 asked Don. 
 
 " Wall, that depends on what the Injims 
 do and how manv there are." 
 
 During the next two weeks, the boys found 
 very little time for hunting. 
 
 Clothing had to be looked over and gotten 
 together, packs and saddles needed repair- 
 ing, and a small stock of provisions had to 
 be selected. On guns and ammunition they 
 did not skimp, but for food they expected to 
 depend on game. In addition to a rifle and 
 a Colt's revolver for each man, they took one 
 shotgun and four short Sioux hunting bows 
 with a supply of arrows. 
 
WIKGED MILLIONS 15T 
 
 " I don't think much of these Indian 
 weapons," remarked Joe, " but Pete thinks 
 we may have to do some pretty quiet hunt- 
 ing, so I guess we had better take them." 
 
 Their provisions consisted principally of 
 tea, sugar, and coffee, a little flour, some 
 bacon, a bag of hardtack, and a few smoked 
 breasts of wild geese. 
 
 They decided to take an extra horse for 
 each man, for both Joe and Pete feared that 
 the trip would be hard on the horses, al- 
 though the animals were now all in fine con- 
 dition. They had all the horses shod by the 
 blacksmith and they took some nails and two 
 extra shoes for each horse. 
 
 "A lame horse," said Pete, " is not much 
 better than a dead horse." 
 
 For shelter they bought an Indian tepee. 
 Two light axes and a short-handled spade 
 they also added to their equipment. 
 
 ^Tien everything had been collected, in- 
 cluding blankets and clothing, it was found 
 that each extra horse would have a small 
 pack to carry. 
 
 " Eight horses," commented Pete, " is 
 
158 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 really too many for slipping through, but I 
 am afraid of some of the critters giving out. 
 Winter travel is mighty hard on them, be- 
 cause the grass is poor, and they have little 
 or no shelter. But here's luck; we have to 
 do our best." 
 
 " Do the Indians ever shoe their horses? " 
 asked Don. 
 
 " No, never," Pete answered, laughing. 
 " They never feed them either, all they do 
 is to drive them to water once or twice a day, 
 and watch out that their enemies do not steal 
 them." 
 
 " You ought to have seen all the ponies 
 we captured on the Washita, eight hundred 
 of them," remarked Joe. 
 
 "Eight hundred ponies!" cried Don. 
 ^' What did you do with all of them? " 
 
 " Well," replied Joe sadly, " I never like 
 to tell it, or even think of it, but we couldn't 
 help ourselves. We could not take them 
 along, and we could not return them to the 
 Indians." 
 
 " Why couldn't you return them? " Hank 
 asked, much interested, for Joe had never 
 
WINGED MILLIONS 159 
 
 spoken of this part of Custer's big fight on 
 the Washita. 
 
 " We had been sent to punish the Indians 
 for their outrages and murders on the Kan- 
 sas frontier. They had killed about a hun- 
 dred and fifty white people, burned houses 
 and stolen cattle and horses. And the 
 soldiers could never catch them in sum- 
 mer. They knew the country; and if a 
 band was pressed too hard, they would 
 scatter. But we did catch them by march- 
 ing on their villages in winter. They had 
 not thought the soldiers could do that." 
 
 *' But what did you do with the ponies? " 
 Hank pressed. 
 
 " Our Indian captives selected about forty 
 of them for their o^\ti use, and the rest we 
 had to shoot. I know Custer hated to order 
 it, and the men hated to do it, but such is 
 war. I shall be mighty, mighty glad when 
 this country has seen its last Indian war. 
 But you can't handle bad Indians by simply 
 being nice to them any more than you can 
 handle white criminals that way. 
 
 " The Cheyennes, Kiowas, Comanches, 
 
1(50 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 and Arapahoes had begun to think that the 
 government was powerless to control them 
 and to punish their misdeeds. Well, Custer 
 taught them a lesson, which they very much 
 needed. It was a hard lesson, but it had 
 to be done." 
 
 " Joe, why couldn't you take the ponies 
 along? " asked Don with his face all flushed. 
 " I think it was a shame to kill them." 
 
 " We wished very much to take them 
 along," Joe continued, " but it was impos- 
 sible. We had whipped and destroyed the 
 Cheyenne village of Black Kettle, but only 
 a few miles below his camp were three or 
 four other large villages with thousands of 
 warriors. 
 
 " I don't laiow what Custer thought, when 
 in the afternoon himdreds of Indians ap- 
 peared on the hills all around us. I was 
 getting pretty well scared. Myself and 
 many of the soldiers thought the worst of 
 the fighting was still ahead of us. 
 
 " We had almost nothing to eat, our 
 supply-wagons were thirty miles in the rear. 
 Many of us had lost our overcoats; the In- 
 
WINGED MILLIONS 161 
 
 dians got them. We had them piled up in 
 the rear, but the Indians were too much for 
 the guard who had to run to save themselves. 
 
 *' If we had taken the horses, the warriors 
 from all the villages would have followed us 
 trying to get the horses back. In following 
 us they might have discovered our supply- 
 wagons, before the regiment could again 
 join the guard, and there is no telling what 
 might have happened. 
 
 " You see, we could not possibly encumber 
 our march with eight hundred ponies, all as 
 wild as deer, and scared at the sight of a 
 white man. 
 
 " Custer loves horses and dogs and I know 
 he hated to give the order and we hated to 
 carry it out, but you see it had to be done." 
 
 " It was too bad," remarked Don. " I 
 wish Hank and I had some of those ponies 
 for our trip." 
 
 " What do the Indians do when their 
 horses get sore-footed, because they have no 
 shoes on? " 
 
 " Sometimes they let them rest a few days, 
 or take other horses, and sometimes they 
 
162 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 make moccasins for them. I have seen 
 white men doing that, too." 
 
 " Make moccasins for the horses? " asked 
 Don, looking at Pete and thinking that Joe 
 had begun to tell the same kind of stories 
 that Pete was in the habit of telling. 
 
 "That is true," Pete agreed. "They 
 make moccasins for the horses of buffalo 
 skin. The horses like them, but the trouble 
 is that they last only a day or two." 
 
 " Yes," added Joe, " Custer even made 
 moccasins of leather for his dogs, so they 
 would not be afraid of the prickly pear, that 
 nasty wild cactus of the plains." 
 
 " You have not told us how you got away 
 from the Indians that surrounded you in 
 Black Kettle's village." 
 
 " That is too long a story to tell now; but 
 we were mighty glad, when we reached our 
 wagon-train next day. It is time to go to 
 bed now. 
 
 " Pete, to-morrow we have to set up our 
 tepee to be sure that everything is all right." 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE LONG EED SNAKE 
 
 The tepee did need several patches and 
 some new strings and loops before it was 
 readv for service. 
 
 Hank and Don marvelled at the care with 
 which Joe and Pete looked over every piece 
 of the equipment. If they found the slight- 
 est flaw in the girth of a saddle or a worn 
 buckle hole in a s > :.p, the saddle or strap 
 went to old Gill's shop. 
 
 The horses, after they had been shod, were 
 taken out for a trial ride of several miles to 
 make sure that they would not develop any 
 lameness on the trip. The loads for the 
 packhorses were tried on to make sure that 
 packs and pack-saddles did not chafe the 
 animals. 
 
 Extra care was given to the guns and 
 
 revolvers. They were all taken apart and 
 
 carefully cleaned and oiled. 
 
 163 
 
164 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 Whatever hunting the boys had time to 
 do, they did with bows and arrows, so as to 
 be ready for any emergency. 
 
 Colonel Hunt offered to send an escort 
 with the party for a day or two, but Pete de- 
 clined the offer with thanks. 
 
 "An escort would do us no good. Colonel," 
 he explained, ** unless the men went with us 
 clear to Bozeman. We shall just slip away 
 as quietly as possible." 
 
 Pete's term of enlistment expired the last 
 of October, and shortly before midnight the 
 next day the four me' rode quietly south- 
 ward out of Fort Tottcin. They took this 
 direction to avoid being observed by the In- 
 dians, most of whom had their camps in the 
 timber south of the lake. 
 
 " These here Injuns," Pete remarked, 
 " are friendly enough, I believe, but they 
 have friends in the camps of Sitting Bull 
 and Crazy Horse and Gall; and it is sur- 
 prising how fast news will travel from one 
 Indian camp to another. An Indian run- 
 ner will make from fifty to a hundred miles 
 a day ; and they also send warnings and news 
 
THE LONG RED SNAKE 165 
 
 by means of signal smokes from one camp to 
 another. 
 
 " They have little to do now, and while the 
 weather remains fair, they roam about, espe- 
 cially the young men, visiting, huntmg, and 
 horse-stealing, if they have a chance. Steal- 
 ing horses is the next brave thing in the life 
 of an Indian to killing and scalping an 
 enemy. So I reckon it is just as well if our 
 friends do not see us leave." 
 
 The weather had already turned quite 
 cold, and the boys found that the heavy buf- 
 falo coats and the fur caps and mittens of 
 the cavalry were just the right things to 
 wear to make a night ride comfortable. 
 
 When the sun rose, the travellers found 
 themselves on a prairie more lonely than the 
 lads had ever seen. During their stay at 
 Fort Totten they had failed to remember 
 that Lake Minnewaukan was a big oasis of 
 woods and water on the vast plain. 
 
 They stopped for breakfast after the red 
 sun had risen above the plain as if it came 
 out of a sea of dead grass, strewn with the 
 wreckage of thousands and thousands of 
 
166 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 bleached buffalo skeletons; for the hired 
 skin-hunters had gotten in their deadly work 
 all around the lake. 
 
 How both men and boys missed the tan- 
 talizing tune of reveille, the cheerful notes of 
 mess call and the friendly faces and merry 
 voices of the soldiers! 
 
 ' ' Soupy, soupy, soupy, not a single bean, 
 Coffee, coffee, coffee, not a bit of cream ; 
 Porky, porky, porky, not a streak of lean, ' ' 
 
 Joe sang out, and added: " Cheer up, 
 friends, cheer up and eat! Travelling in a 
 snowstorm will be much worse! " 
 
 In half an hour they were again in the sad- 
 dle, but they now changed their direction 
 from south to southwest, so as to strike the 
 Missouri some twenty miles above the mouth 
 of the Little Missouri. Joe had procured a 
 map of Dakota and Montana, and this map 
 and a compass were their only guides. 
 
 Hour after hour they travelled over the 
 same country, where nothing but white buf- 
 falo bones and an occasional coyote broke 
 the monotony of the brown ridges and swales 
 of the dead prairie. The summer birds as 
 
THE LONG KED SNAKE 167 
 
 well as the migrating flocks of ducks and 
 geese were gone. Gophers and badgers 
 were asleep in their holes, and all big game 
 had vanished, as if there had never been a 
 hoof on the plains. 
 
 About noon thev came to a small stream 
 with a few patches of stunted timber along 
 its banks. 
 
 " This is First Camp," said Joe. " Boys, 
 chop a hole in the ice, and then bring some 
 wood and water, and start a fire, while 
 Pete and I set up the tepee and picket the 
 horses." 
 
 The warm blaze, several cups of hot sweet 
 tea, and a good meal of smoked goose-breast 
 and hardtack revived their spirits. 
 
 After dinner the boys could not keep their 
 eyes open any longer, and Joe told them 
 they had better roll up in their blankets and 
 go to sleep. 
 
 " Pete and I," he added, " will see to it 
 that Sitting Bull or the gray wolves do not 
 carry you off. To-morrow you watch while 
 Pete and I take a nap." 
 
 Hank thought it was unnecessary precau- 
 
168 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 tion for anybody to stay awake in such a 
 dead country, but Pete and Joe said that old 
 soldiers were used to that sort of thing, and 
 you never could tell what might happen, and 
 it was worse for everybody to go to sleep in 
 the daytime than at night. 
 
 " If we had taken a dog along," said Don, 
 " we could all go to sleep now." 
 
 " Yes, and have your dog betray us to an 
 Indian war party some day," Joe replied. 
 " Don't you remember that it was the bark- 
 ing of a dog that first betrayed the exact lo- 
 cation of Black Kettle's camp to Custer and 
 his scouts? " 
 
 "That is true, lads," Pete added. "I 
 like dogs, but not on a trip like this. The 
 Indians always have a lot of dogs in their 
 camps, but a war party never takes any dogs 
 along. The trouble is a dog doesn't laiow 
 when to bark and when to keep still. 
 
 " We are a kind of white man's war party 
 now, and a dog would be a dangerous com- 
 panion." 
 
 Pete had scarcely finished talking when 
 the boys were sound asleep. 
 
THE LONG BED SNAKE 
 
 169 
 
 About three hours the men let them sleep. 
 Then Joe began to imitate the army reveille : 
 
 F#**-H 
 
 # 
 
 -f- 
 
 -1* ^ 
 
 # 
 
 # ' 
 
 -5— p — ^- 
 
 -^*— 
 
 irr\ /I ^ 
 
 
 [P 
 
 ^ « 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 '1/ [/ •' 
 
 [^ 
 
 ts 
 
 U^ • 
 
 Lb— 
 
 
 -i^ — ^— 
 
 
 L^ — 
 
 _£ — ^ — !L_ 
 
 
 I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up, I 
 
 :a=p: 
 
 53 
 
 :p 
 
 >^ — i*^ — •- 
 
 i 
 
 can't get 'em up this morn- ing ; I can't get 'em up, I 
 
 End 
 
 can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up at all. 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
 W 
 
 The 
 
 cor - p'ral is worse than the pri - vate, The 
 
 i 
 
 :p=?: 
 
 m 
 
 -^ — ^ 
 
 sergeant's worse than the cor - p'ral,The lieut's worse than the 
 
 B.C. 
 
 
 V /-J 
 
 
 # F [^ 
 
 ^ g • 
 
 ^ ^\^' II 
 
 ser - geant, And the cap - tain is worse than them all. 
 
 The words of the old call were never more 
 true, for Pete had to help his friend before 
 the lads became aroused. 
 
 Then Hank sat up and began to rub his 
 eyes, and seeing Don still fast asleep, he 
 called: 
 
170 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 "Get up, Don! Indians! Sitting Bull!" 
 
 Now Don sprang up. " Where are they? 
 Where's my gun? " he called. 
 
 But Joe and Pete did not join Hank's 
 laugh. 
 
 "Never do that again!" Joe spoke 
 sharply. " No sensible man ever gives a 
 false alarm in the Indian country. And 
 both of you boys want to keep your guns al- 
 ways in the same place. You may want 
 them in a hurry some day." 
 
 A strong breeze was now blowing from 
 the south, and Pete thought he saw dust or 
 smoke in that direction. On riding to the 
 top of a ridge, they soon made out that a 
 cloud of smoke was driven before the wind. 
 After they had watched the cloud a while, 
 they could plainly smell fire. 
 
 "The prairie is on fire!" called Joe. 
 " Come, men, we must back-fire around our 
 camp, or all our stuff will burn up ! Every 
 man run and bring a piece of wet canvas or 
 gunny sack." 
 
 Hank and Don did not understand just 
 what Joe meant to do, but back-firing was 
 
THE LONG BED SNAEIE 171 
 
 nothing new to Pete. In a few minutes he 
 and Joe had started a ]3rairie fire about a 
 quarter of a mile south of camp ; and it was 
 now every man's work to see that this fire 
 did not run away, but burn a strip about a 
 rod wide in front of the camp. 
 
 They had not prepared for this unex- 
 pected danger any too soon, for when the 
 fire-break was ready, a long red snake came 
 fast creeping over the nearest ridge, travel- 
 ling before the wind with the speed of a run- 
 ning horse. When it crossed a swale, where 
 the dead grass was tall and thick, it raged 
 forward with a fierce crackling noise, which 
 made the horses jump and pull on the picket- 
 ropes. 
 
 Pete quieted the frightened animals, but 
 Joe and the boys ran and beat out the flames, 
 which again and again jumped the fire- 
 break. 
 
 When the danger had passed in front of 
 the camp, they kept the fire as far as possible 
 from the sides of the camp; so a good-sized 
 space was left unburnt for the horses to 
 graze. 
 
172 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 By the time the fire had passed the camp, it 
 was ahnost dark; and the glaring red flames, 
 miles long, left the prairie a gloomy and 
 forbidding world. Farther and farther the 
 endless red snake travelled northward, mitil 
 it disappeared behind a rise and left onl}^ a 
 weird, lurid glow on the sky. 
 
 " I guess we may as well make supper," 
 suggested Joe, when nothing was left of the 
 fire but a few burning sticks near the 
 creek. 
 
 *' Where did the fire come from? " the 
 boys wished to know, when the company 
 were eating their supper, seated around a 
 cheerful small fire inside of the tent. 
 
 " That is impossible to tell," said Joe. 
 "A prairie fire may run a hundred miles be- 
 fore a river or a lake stops it, or before rain 
 or snow put it out." 
 
 " But how does a prairie fire get started? " 
 asked Don. 
 
 " In many ways. Sometimes the Indians 
 start it to cause a better growth of grass for 
 their ponies or for the buffalo herds. At 
 other times they start fires to drive their 
 
THE LONG RED SNAKE 173 
 
 enemies out of the country or to protect 
 themselves from pursuit by an enemy. 
 
 " A camp-fire may spread, lightning may 
 start a prairie fire, or it may start from a 
 burning coal-bed." 
 
 " Burning coal-beds? " questioned Hank. 
 " Where are they? " 
 
 " There are many beds of very soft coal, 
 or lignite, on the Missouri, on the Yellow- 
 stone and in the Bad Lands of the Little 
 Missouri," Pete told. " I have often seen 
 the coal-beds, but I have never seen one on 
 fire ; but the Indians and old plainsmen say 
 that a coal-bed sometimes burns for many 
 years." 
 
 " What do you say to all of us rolling in? " 
 suggested Joe, after he had made sure that 
 all the horses were securely picketed. " We 
 can all go safely to sleep; for no Indians will 
 travel over this burnt prairie." 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 GUACALOTE 
 
 If both men and boys had not enjoyed a 
 long refreshmg sleep, the sight which met 
 their eyes next morning would have been de- 
 pressing beyond words. 
 
 Their camp was located on a point of 
 brown prairie, dotted by a few scrubby trees 
 and bushes; the rest of the world, as far as 
 the eye could reach, was a burnt and black- 
 ened earth with a dead gray sky above it. 
 
 A hearty warm breakfast dispelled a little 
 
 of the gloom, but when beyond the first 
 
 ridge, where the lads had expected to see the 
 
 end of the burnt ground, the dead black 
 
 plain was not even relieved by a patch of 
 
 brown grass and a few bushes, their spirits 
 
 fell, and they almost wished they had not 
 
 come. The only objects set off from the 
 
 black prairie were the ashy hills of gophers 
 
 and badgers and the scattered bones and 
 
 skulls of buffaloes. 
 
 174 
 
GUACALOTE 175 
 
 But Joe and Pete appeared neither sur- 
 prised nor sad. They acted and talked as if 
 all this devastation was most common and 
 expected. 
 
 When Joe noticed the depressed state of 
 mind of the lads, he tried to cheer them up. 
 
 " This is not bad travelling, boys," he told 
 them. " Pete and I think this is almost like 
 summer travel. On the Washita campaign 
 we travelled and slept in a foot of snow." 
 
 But the lads found no more cheer in Joe's 
 remarks than in the forbidding aspect ahead 
 of them, where the wind was stirring up 
 clouds of black dust and ashes. 
 
 " What are we going to live on if we find 
 no game?" asked Don, seriously worried, 
 and thinking of the abundance of game they 
 had seen in spring, between Bismarck and 
 the Souris River. 
 
 " Wall," old Pete drawled with a glance 
 at Joe, " we have four extra horses, if no 
 game shows up." 
 
 " I shall eat none of my horses," asserted 
 Don. " I would rather starve than kill one 
 of them." 
 
176 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 Pete and Joe were not worried about food 
 for the men, but they did feel uneasy about 
 the horses. The winter forage was poor 
 enough at its best. If the horses had to 
 travel without any food at all for a day or 
 two they would soon play out. It was for 
 these reasons that the two men anxiously 
 scanned the prairie through their glasses; 
 but there seemed to be no end to the burnt 
 plain. 
 
 " Pete, I believe the best thing we can 
 do," declared Joe, " is to hold a westerly 
 course and keep going till we strike grass." 
 
 Pete agreed to this plan and they marched 
 steadily in a westerly course ; but when after 
 another hour, no sign of unburnt prairie was 
 visible, both of the boys felt much discour- 
 aged. 
 
 They suggested that some other direction 
 might take them out of the burnt area in less 
 time. 
 
 Pete and Joe, who saw that the lads were 
 really alarmed at the prospect of men and 
 horses starving on the black desert, tried to 
 quiet their fears. 
 
GUACALOTE * 177 
 
 " We can't go either north or east," they 
 explained, " because that would lead us 
 farther away from our destination. We 
 should not go south, because the fire came 
 from that direction, so the ' only sensible 
 thing to do is to travel west till we reach the 
 western limit of the burnt area." 
 
 Early in the afternoon the horses, who had 
 all begun to lag, increased their speed. 
 
 " I thmk they are smelling grass," re- 
 marked Pete, " or game, maybe! " 
 
 The lads asked no questions about this re- 
 mark, although Pete seemed to expect it, for 
 Hank as well as Don suspected that Cactus 
 Pete Avas attempting to bait them with one 
 of his impossible stories. 
 
 The boys looked at Joe, but he was plod- 
 ding along, with his head bent and his face 
 black from the fine dust that filled the air. 
 He seemed lost in thought, and apparently 
 had not heard Pete's remark. 
 
 However, when they had ascended the 
 next ridge, they could not quite trust their 
 oAvn eyes. 
 
 " Look, Joe," Don called as he stopped his 
 
178 THE THEEAT OF SITTi:t;rG BULL 
 
 horse and pointed west; " is that a real coun- 
 try or is it one of those mirages that you and 
 Pete told us about? " 
 
 " That is a real country," Joe assured 
 them. " If we don't get into any worse 
 trouble than that little prairie fire, we shall 
 have an easy trip. 
 
 " What was that text Phillips Brooks 
 preached on the last Sunday we attended 
 Trinity Church in Boston? " 
 
 " I don't remember it all," Hank con- 
 fessed, " but one phrase of it was: ' O ye of 
 little faith!'" 
 
 " That was the text," said Joe with a 
 kindly smile. "And do you remember the 
 rector saying that men of little faith were 
 always men of little courage, and that Wash- 
 ington and Hamilton and Paul Jones and 
 Abraham Lincoln had been men of strong 
 faith and great courage? " 
 
 " Yes," Don admitted, " I remember the 
 whole sermon now, but I guess Hank and I 
 did not think that a sermon like that meant 
 us riding over this prairie." 
 
 " Wall, boys, you see now what it means," 
 
GUACALOTE 179 
 
 added Pete, contentedly filling his black 
 pipe. " It means go ahead, fight it out, no 
 matter what happens. That's a good sol- 
 dier's motto, I reckon." 
 
 In half an hour the travellers reached the 
 shore of a small lake, one of many in the 
 same region. All gloom had now suddenly 
 vanished; and as soon as a camp site had 
 been selected, Pete slipped away with his 
 rifle, calling to the boys, " Help Joe take 
 care of the horses." 
 
 In a few minutes they heard a shot, and 
 very soon Pete came back carrying a fat 
 young deer. 
 
 *' Did you know that deer was there? " 
 asked the boys. 
 
 "No," answered Pete, "but I thought 
 that wooded ravine looked like a good hid- 
 ing-place for game, and you see I was right. 
 We shall not have to eat our horses right 
 away. Hurry up, boys, build a fire; we 
 shall have broiled liver and venison for sup- 
 per. I'm powerful hungry." 
 
 Pete was not the only one that was hun- 
 gry. Neither Joe nor the boys lost a min- 
 
180 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 ute, when Pete started to imitate the mess 
 call of Fort Totten. 
 
 And the horses, too, acted as if they were 
 starved. No sooner had they drunk their 
 fill out of the holes, which Joe had cut 
 through the ice, than they began rustling for 
 their supper among the bushes on the lake 
 shore, where the grass still showed a little 
 green in patches. 
 
 "Let them rustle in their own way for a 
 while," said Joe; " but for the night we must 
 picket them." 
 
 " Go a little easy on the hardtack," Pete 
 admonished the lads, " but you need not 
 skimp on the venison. If you boys ever 
 wished to live like Indians, the Great Spirit 
 has heard your prayer ; for I reckon we shall 
 soon find game enough to live as high as 
 the warriors in Sitting Bull's camp. It 
 will soon be all meat and no hardtack." 
 
 After supper Pete and Joe lit their pipes 
 and began swapping yarns at the camp-fire 
 and to speculate on the whereabouts of the 
 Indian camps. 
 
 " I hope they are all on the Powder River 
 
GUACALOTE 181 
 
 and the Big Horn and the Rosebud," was 
 Joe's wish, " and I hope that they have made 
 a good fall hunt and tha* they find plenty of 
 game south of the Yellowstone." 
 
 " Your wish is mine," Pete broke his si- 
 lence, " but I have my doubts. The country 
 of the Big Horn, the Rosebud, and the Pow- 
 der is good game country, but the broken 
 country of the Little ^Missouri also offers 
 fine shelter and good grass for game and 
 ponies. The hostile Sioux are pretty sure 
 to break up into several camps for the win- 
 ter, because a camp of Indians needs an im- 
 mense amount of game and much forage for 
 the pony herds. And no matter how much 
 meat they dried and smoked on their fall 
 hunt, they seldom have enough without do- 
 ing some hunting during winter. It would 
 not surprise me if some of them were camp- 
 ing on the Little ^lissouri, somewhere south 
 of the line surveyed for the Northern Pacific 
 Railroad, where it is to run through the Bad 
 Lands. We shall have to keep our eyes 
 open for signs of them as soon as we have 
 crossed the Missouri." 
 
182 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 " How can we cross the Missouri without 
 a boat or a ferry? " asked Don anxiously. 
 
 " We shall see about that when we get 
 there," replied Pete. "We soldiers never 
 worry about anything till we get to it." 
 
 As the wind was not strong, Joe and Pete 
 decided that it was not necessary to set up 
 the tent. Before it grew dark each man 
 spread out his blankets and buffalo robe, 
 then they picketed the horses, and when the 
 coyotes began their night song, the tired 
 travellers wrapped themselves in their warm 
 soft robes and were soon fast asleep. 
 
 The next day Joe killed a fat young elk, 
 and game was now abundant wherever there 
 was some shelter of broken ground or tim- 
 ber. They also began to see buffaloes, but 
 did not hunt them, because a buffalo would 
 have furnished more meat than the four men 
 could have used. 
 
 " On the Arkansas we almost lived on 
 wild turkeys, but I have never heard of them 
 in this country," Joe remarked. " These 
 prairie-hens are too small to waste our am- 
 munition on." 
 
GUACALOTE 183 
 
 When, at the close of these remarks, Joe 
 smiled as if thinking of something pleasant, 
 the boys demanded to know what he was 
 smiling at and Joe told them that he was 
 thinking about an old Indian chief and a 
 turkey. 
 
 " The Indians," Joe resumed, " have their 
 peculiar likes and dislikes about game and 
 food. 
 
 " On the Arkansas we almost lived on 
 wild turkey. Occasionally the hunters 
 brought in a big gobbler, who had roosted on 
 the trees so many seasons that he remained 
 tough, no matter how long we cooked him. 
 We had been boiling one of those old birds 
 for hours on Pawnee Creek one day, when 
 an old chief came to our camp with a number 
 of young hunters. 
 
 "As usual, the Indians were hungry and 
 begged for some ' chuck.' That is the word 
 which to all Indian tribes means food. 
 
 " We were rather short on the usual army 
 rations, but our captain pointed to the boil- 
 ing kettle, signing that the Indians might 
 have it. 
 
184 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 " The old chief exammed it carefully and 
 told his young men that it was * guacalote/ 
 meaning turkey. To eat it would make 
 them cowards, and they would run away 
 from their enemies like the ' guacalotes ' run 
 away from the hunters. He himself was an 
 old man, and did not expect to do any more 
 brave deeds, so he might risk it. 
 
 "After this little talk the old chief began 
 eating, and in about an hour the kettle was 
 empty, and of the old ' guacalote ' nothing 
 was left but the bones." 
 
 " Joe, do you mean to say that one Indian 
 ate the whole turkey? " asked Hank. 
 
 " He not only ate the whole turkey, but he 
 drank every spoonful of the soup," vowed 
 Joe; " and you needn't think that this is one 
 of Pete's stories, one of the Devil's Heart 
 kind. 
 
 " It is true, every word of it. Indians 
 who eat little else but meat can stow away 
 an incredible amount of food." 
 
 On the fourth evening the travellers 
 made camp in a fine grove of cottonwoods on 
 the bank of the Missouri. The problem of 
 
GUACALOTE 185 
 
 crossing the river next morning, as Pete had 
 hinted, was very simple. The weather had 
 been cold enough so the river was frozen 
 over solid in places where the current was 
 fairlv slow. 
 
 From this camp they followed the river; 
 two men carefully scouting ahead on the 
 lookout for Indians. Game, fuel, and water 
 were plentiful, and as there was no snow on 
 the ground, travelling through the keen air 
 of late autumn was a delight. The boys had 
 become hardened, and their appetites de- 
 manded from four to six pounds of fat meat 
 a day, for they ate practically nothing else, 
 saving their little flour and hardtack for a 
 possible emergency. 
 
 For cooking their meals, they gathered 
 dry wood, so as to make as little smoke as 
 possible, and when they had finished cooking 
 the fire was put out. Although there was 
 no dearth of wood and the boys wanted very 
 much to build a big camp-fire after dark, Joe 
 and Pete would not allow it. 
 
 "A good red camp-fire would be fine these 
 cold nights," Pete and Joe granted, " but 
 
186 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 we don't want to build any signal fires for 
 Sitting BulFs scouts and hunters." 
 
 " What would they do if they found us? " 
 asked Don. " We could tell them that we 
 were just on our way to Bozeman." 
 
 " Wall, I know what they would want to 
 do," said Pete, " and I shouldn't invite them 
 to a talk." 
 
 "What would they want to do?" ques- 
 tioned Hank. 
 
 " Wall," Pete answered dryly, " I reckon 
 society is pretty dull in Sitting Bull's camp 
 just now, and four nice cotton wood poles 
 with a fresh scalp at the end of each would 
 get up a little real excitement — a pleasant 
 little diversion, I reckon you say in Boston." 
 
 I 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE BLIZZARD 
 
 On the morning of the eighth day the 
 weather was remarkably warm and quiet. 
 
 " We are going to have an Indian smn- 
 mer," the boys declared, as they put their 
 heavy coats on the packhorses. 
 
 But Pete and Joe were not so elated about 
 the fine weather. 
 
 " I am much suspicious about an Indian 
 summer in this country in the middle of 
 November," asserted Pete. " I remember 
 too well how these warm days used to end at 
 Fort Totten. 
 
 "Joe, those tall buttes off yonder must be 
 
 on the Little Missouri. Take your glass 
 
 and scout a bit for signs of our red friends. 
 
 It is about time we meet some of them; not 
 
 that I am exactly pining for their company. 
 
 I think our appearance might shock them. 
 
 187 
 
188 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 You and I, Joe, are beginning to look a trifle 
 scrubby around the chin." 
 
 Joe reported that he could discover no 
 smoke or dust or any sigji of either Indians 
 or white men. Pete and the boys took the 
 glass in turn, but there was no sign of human 
 beings. Small herds of buffaloes, a bunch 
 of elk and a herd of antelope they could make 
 out, but all the animals were quietly feeding 
 or lying down, and showed no sign of having 
 been disturbed by hunters. Some herds 
 were slowly travelling west. 
 
 " I guess they are going to water," sug- 
 gested Joe. 
 
 " Maybe they are looking for a good 
 camp," Pete put in. " All right, men. The 
 trail is clear. I say we march along to get 
 off the open prairie. This fine weather 
 ought to be extra fine among the buttes of 
 the Bad Lands." 
 
 Within an hour, a dark rim began to ap- 
 pear on the western horizon. The boys paid 
 no special attention to it, but Pete and Joe 
 exchanged anxious remarks and glances, and 
 urged the horses to a faster walk. 
 
THE BLIZZARD 189 
 
 " ^Yhat do you make of it? " asked Pete, 
 after Joe had been scanning the rapidly 
 growing cloud through his glass. 
 
 "A dust-storm, I think," answered Joe 
 doubtfully. 
 
 "Anyhow," asserted Pete, " there's wind 
 in that black cloud. See how quick it rises! 
 Joe, I am afraid it is worse than a dust- 
 storm. It looks like a snowstorm to me. 
 Let us go straight for that little grove of 
 cottonwoods below the nearest butte, and the 
 sooner we get there the better." 
 
 For half an hour they travelled in silence, 
 watching the black cloud spreading and ris- 
 ing rapidly over the Avhole western sky. 
 Now, after it had obscured the sun, its black 
 color seemed less pronounced, but it spread a 
 foreboding murky gray over the plain and 
 over the ragged broken Bad Lands ahead of 
 the travellers. 
 
 " Get into your fur coats, boys," called 
 Pete, " and put on your caps and fur mit- 
 tens! A storm is coming up fast. Look, 
 the game is all going for shelter to the 
 broken country. Let us lose no time in 
 
190 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 reaching shelter, but we must not get our 
 horses heated." 
 
 The storm was indeed coming up fast. A 
 cloud of black dust, picked up over a dis- 
 tant burnt area and from the bare slopes and 
 cliffs of the Bad Lands, came whirling over 
 the buttes and broken country with a cold 
 blast, and was immediately followed by a 
 thin flurry of snow, consisting of fine crystals 
 of ice. 
 
 The air seemed quickly to be filling with 
 this fine snow, the wind was rapidly increas- 
 ing in violence, and the travellers found it 
 difficult to breathe and keep their eyes open 
 in the face of the storm and the stinging ice 
 dust. 
 
 The horses needed no urging, but had to 
 be held back from breaking into a run for 
 the shelter ahead. 
 
 When the four horsemen reached the 
 grove of cottonwoods and willows under the 
 lee of a butte, the dust-storm had changed 
 into a snowstorm. 
 
 " Strap the blankets on the horses," or- 
 dered Joe, " and gather all the wood you 
 
THE BLIZZARD 191 
 
 can find, while Pete and I arrange the packs 
 and set up the tepee. Turn the horses loose; 
 we must not picket them in the storm." 
 
 " But, Joe," urged Hank, " there is no 
 water in this river ; only a few pools of ice." 
 
 " Never mind, boys," Pete pressed them. 
 " Take one of the axes and get wood. 
 Gather all the dry stuif you can find, but 
 cut some green poles, too. Hurry up, boys ! 
 We shall need a lot of it, and it will soon be 
 dark." 
 
 The storm was growing in violence every 
 minute and the air was filling with whirling 
 snow. 
 
 " Be careful, boys," called Joe as he and 
 Pete struggled with the flapping tepee, 
 " that you don't get lost! " 
 
 In a short time the tepee was up, and the 
 boys had gathered a goodly pile of wood. 
 
 " Tie the picket-ropes together," called 
 Pete, " and run the rope out to your cutting 
 place. Joe and I will pile the goods around 
 the tent, so the wind cannot get under the 
 sides. Get some more wood! You have 
 only half enough." 
 
192 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 When the tent was ready Joe and Pete 
 ran along the rope trying to keep their eyes 
 open in the blinding whirls of fine sharp 
 snow. 
 
 " Come, boys," Joe called. " Everybody 
 take an armful of wood and run back along 
 the rope. Bring the ax, Hank. Come, 
 boys ! We can't work any longer. 
 
 " Pete, pull the rope in, and all get into 
 the tent. We reached shelter none too soon. 
 Listen! How the storm begins to howl! " 
 
 Although the sun was still an hour high, it 
 was dark inside the tent; while outside, the 
 whole world seemed a gray whirling mass of 
 wind and fine stinging snow that seemed to 
 come from all directions and sifted into every 
 hole and crevice. 
 
 Joe started a fire with dry sticks and be- 
 gan to make supper, while Pete lit his old 
 pipe and seated himself comfortably on his 
 blankets. 
 
 Soon the odor of coffee, frying bacon, and 
 venison filled the tent. 
 
 " Now, friends, fall to," said Joe as he set 
 out the tin plates and cups. " Melting snow 
 
THE BLIZZARD 193 
 
 and ice is a pretty slow way of making 
 coffee, but we have plenty of time now. Eat 
 slow, boys ; we shall be gentlemen of leisure 
 for a while." 
 
 Fine snow crystals kept whirling through 
 the smoke-hole. For a few seconds they 
 glistened in the light of the fire, then they 
 vanished ; but near the edges of the tent, they 
 soon covered everything with a fine white 
 dust. Outside, the storm howled around the 
 cliffs ; it roared through the trees, and rattled 
 the bare frozen branches against one an- 
 other. 
 
 When supper was over and the fire had 
 burnt low, Joe closed the smoke-flap and lit 
 a candle. 
 
 " We won't have to travel to-morrow, and, 
 I reckon, Sitting Bull and his braves are not 
 hunting for scalps to-night. It sounds like 
 a regular blizzard outside. I hope our 
 horses have found a safe, sheltered spot. I 
 wish we could take the poor beasts inside 
 with us." 
 
 " They are all right," asserted Pete. " You 
 picked out a regular bmich of Indian ponies. 
 
194 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 I wonder where old Stearn at Bismarck got 
 them. You couldn't pull them under a 
 roof. I know, because I tried it at Fort 
 Totten." 
 
 " Pete, you are a heathen Indian," Joe 
 bantered his friend. " Tell us a yarn. But 
 none of that deep lake at Devil's Heart. If 
 you don't stick to the truth, you sleep out- 
 side to-night." 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE WAGON-BOX FIGHT 
 
 As is the case with most frontiersmen and 
 Indians, the stories of Cactus Pete only- 
 flowed when Pete was in the mood. 
 
 This evening, with the storm raging and 
 moaning and a light shimmer of fine snow 
 crystals drifting in at the peak of the tepee 
 and secretly entering through a few small 
 rents in the old buffalo skins, Pete was in a 
 reminiscent mood. 
 
 He was a big boy again, enjoying the 
 wild commotion of nature, although his re- 
 marks were neither elegant nor delicate. 
 
 " Hear her howl, lads," he would say. 
 
 " Listen to her roaring like a mad buffalo 
 
 bull. Them sailor lads brag about storms, 
 
 and I reckon they run into some good ones. 
 
 But listen to this, boys! It's real music, like 
 
 the bass and horns in the big organ of the 
 
 bishop's church in St. Louis. 
 
 195 
 
196 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 " There's some men, Joe, who love Cali- 
 fornia or Florida. Not I. Give me a coun- 
 try where I can hear the song of the storm! 
 It is God's own organ playing among the 
 buttes and the cottonwoods ! " 
 
 " Yes, it is grand music," agreed Joe, 
 '' when you sit around a fire or a candle with 
 a wami supper inside of you. But what 
 about our poor beasts outside, with no water 
 and no food? " 
 
 " They will eat snow for a drink," argued 
 Pete. " Eating snow does not go well with 
 humans, but Indian ponies and buffaloes 
 don't mind it. They quit going to water 
 when there is snow on the plains." 
 
 " But they must starve or freeze to 
 death," remarked Don. " It is getting cold 
 in the tepee. I am going to put on my big 
 coat." 
 
 " They always have a big coat on in win- 
 ter," Pete replied, " and they don't starve so 
 very soon, I reckon. These ponies have 
 weathered more than one blizzard; but I am 
 going to look for them at daylight." 
 
 For a while the four campers sat in silence 
 
THE WAGON-BOX FIGHT 197 
 
 around the candle, where light was weirdly 
 reflected from the red faces of the boys and 
 from the strong, bearded visages of the men. 
 
 " I wonder," Pete began after some time, 
 " where the hostile Sioux and Cheyennes 
 made their winter camps. 
 
 " I guess they are south of the Yellow- 
 stone in the big game country on Powder 
 River, on the Rosebud or on the Big Horn." 
 
 " Wall, now," objected Pete, " they can't 
 all camp in one region. There are too many 
 of them. It would not surprise me, if some 
 of them had pitched their tepees north of the 
 Yellowstone on the Little Missouri south of 
 here. That is a good game country. Per- 
 haps old Sitting Bull is not so very far from 
 here, and some of his young hunters may 
 look us up, after the weather turns mild 
 again." 
 
 " Sitting Bull! What a hmny name!" 
 said Hank. " Why did they give him that 
 name f 
 
 " I can tell you that," answered Pete. 
 "When Sitting Bull was a boy, his tribe 
 had made a great buffalo hunt, and the In- 
 
198 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 dian boys were trying to catch some of the 
 calves. This boy caught a big strong calf 
 by the ears. In its efforts to get away, the 
 young bull backed into a buffalo wallow and 
 sat down on his haunches. * He made the 
 bull sit down!' exclaimed the hunters, and 
 ever since, the boy has been called Sitting 
 Bull. He is a great medicine man and has 
 much influence amongst the Indians. If he 
 had ever done great deeds in war, they 
 would have given him another name." 
 
 Joe lifted the door-flap a little and peeped 
 out. " Whoo, what a terrible blizzard! " he 
 exclaimed. " It is pitch dark, and we are 
 already snowed in. Get your beds ready, 
 boys, and let us all roll in. It is an awful 
 night outside!" 
 
 The boys were soon sound asleep, but 
 Joe cut some dry shavings with his hunting- 
 knife and laid the wood ready on the fire- 
 place, while Pete looked on in silence, listen- 
 ing to the storm, which was still increasing in 
 violence, rushing over the buttes and 
 through the trees in a dull wild roar. 
 
 " It is a great storm," remarked Pete, as 
 
THE WAGON-BOX FIGHT 199 
 
 he pulled a blanket gently over the heads of 
 the boys. " The night will grow cold, and 
 we had better all sleep Indian fashion." 
 
 When the candle was blown out, the dark- 
 ness in the tepee was absolute. 
 
 " I reckon," remarked Pete, "it is about 
 as dark now in our tepee as it is in a hole 
 in the ground. It is a merciful thing that 
 badgers and gophers and prairie-dogs can 
 den up during the winter." 
 
 " I wish our ponies could den up, too," re- 
 marked Joe, as he turned over drowsily. " I 
 am glad we brought blankets for them," 
 and very soon the men were as sound asleep 
 as the boys. 
 
 About the time of reveille Pete woke up. 
 He struck a match and made sure that the 
 boys were warm and comfortable. 
 
 " She is still a-roaring," he said to Joe, 
 who opened his eyes and shook a layer of 
 powdered snow off his blankets. '' I reckon 
 we might as well turn over for a few hours 
 more. There will be no travelling for a day 
 or two. We are denned up like the badgers 
 and gophers." 
 
200 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 There is a limit, however, to the time 
 which men and even boys can sleep; and 
 about two hours after the usual time for 
 reveille, Don woke up and began to punch 
 Hank. 
 
 "Wake up, Hank! "he called. " It must 
 be daylight outside. Wake up, we are all 
 snowed in." And he began to wash Hank's 
 face with a handful of snoAV, which brought 
 the elder brother out of his blankets so 
 quick that Don, in turn, had his face rubbed 
 over a snow-covered buffalo robe before he 
 was able to defend himself. In a moment 
 the two lads scuffled all over the tepee. Now 
 one was on top, now the other. They 
 tmiibled over Joe's neat woodpile and 
 rattled the tin pans all over the tepee. 
 
 " Here, you young Injuns! " cried Pete. 
 "No fighting in the house!" And with 
 these words he chucked one after the other 
 into a deep, soft snow-bank outside, where 
 they landed with a scream of surprise. 
 
 " Let us in, let us in," begged Don; '' we'll 
 be good! " 
 
 " All right," remarked Pete. " A snow 
 
THE WAGOX-BOX FIGHT 201 
 
 bath is much better than a shower bath. 
 You both needed a good wash. Now go 
 back to bed; it is too early to get up." 
 
 " It isn't, either," claimed Don. " I'm not 
 a bit sleepy, but I am hungry." 
 
 " Wall, Joe," Pete relented, " we had bet- 
 ter roll out and give these young wolves 
 something to eat." 
 
 The storm outside still rushed over the 
 plain with unbroken fury. " Listen, Hank," 
 said Don, " it roars just like Niagara Falls, 
 when you are a little way off. 
 
 " Joe, how do you think our horses are? 
 Hank and I are going to put on our boots 
 and big coats after breakfast and look for 
 them." 
 
 " All right," Pete told them; " I want you 
 to take a biscuit to my pony." 
 
 Joe insisted that the boys take hold of the 
 rope, when they left the tepee half an hour 
 later. 
 
 " Don, don't you lose my biscuit," Pete 
 called after them as they crept out of the 
 tepee. "And don't you let go of the 
 repel 
 
202 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 " Kids is kids," he chuckled to Joe. 
 " They won't go far." 
 
 Now the voices of the lads were lost, and 
 Pete at once became anxious. " Darn it, 
 Joe," he said, " I fear these fool kids won't 
 hang on to the rope after all. 
 
 " Hey ! You blooming young idiots ! " he 
 shouted into the storm as he gave the rope 
 a smart pull. " Get back here ! Haven't 
 you got sense enough to go in in a blizzard? 
 Do you expect us to dig you out? Come 
 back here, you dummies! " 
 
 And to his satisfaction the lads came 
 tumbling and crawling back along the rope, 
 looking like a pair of Eskimos that had just 
 crawled out of a snowbank. 
 
 Both of them had their eyes and ears 
 closed with frozen snow, and the men had 
 a hearty laugh at their snorting and blow- 
 ing, as they cleared their faces of snow. 
 
 " Whow!" cried Hank, when he caught 
 his breath. " You can't see five yards ahead, 
 and the fine stuff just closes your eyes and 
 the terrible wind chokes the breath out of 
 you ! I bet our horses are all dead." 
 
THE WAGON-BOX FIGHT 203 
 
 " Wall, if they are," admitted Pete, " we 
 can't help it. I reckon you are convinced 
 now that we cannot do anything for them 
 while it blows like this. 
 
 " Joe, keep the fire going, and I'll tell you 
 about the big fight in the wagon-box. We 
 won't have a thing to do all day." 
 
 " How could you fight Indians in a 
 wagon-box?" asked Don, a little incredu- 
 lous. 
 
 " Wall, it wasn't a fight in just one 
 wagon-box," Pete explained. " We fought 
 them in a wagon-box corral, but we always 
 spoke of it as the Wagon-Box Fight. 
 
 " You see, it was at Fort Phil Kearney, in 
 Wyoming, in the summer of 1867. It was 
 the worst place for Indian fights there ever 
 was on earth. 
 
 *' We built the fort in the summer of 1866 
 on the Little Piney, which is one of the head 
 creeks of Powder River. 
 
 " Wall, lads, nobody could tell of all the 
 fights we had with the Indians, unless he 
 had made a book and written in it every day. 
 
 " We had to cut all our logs and firewood 
 
204 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 seven miles from the fort, but we could not 
 cut or haul a log without a heavy guard. 
 There was lots of game, but General Car- 
 rington had to forbid all hunting, for it was 
 almost certain death for one or two men to 
 leave the fort. 
 
 " How many Indians we killed, I don't 
 know, they always carry off their dead, but 
 through the summer and fall the Indians 
 killed more than a hundred white soldiers 
 and citizens." 
 
 " What Indians were they?" asked Don. 
 
 " They were nearly all Sioux under Chief 
 Red Cloud, but there were some Cheyennes 
 with them. 
 
 " It was a few days before Christmas, on 
 the 21st, if I remember right, that the In- 
 dians again attacked the wood-train, a train 
 of teams and wagons, I mean. They had 
 the train and the guard surrounded and 
 Captain Fetterman was sent out with eighty 
 men to relieve the wood-train. General Car- 
 rington, who understood the situation and 
 knew that the country was full of Indians, 
 thousands of them, ordered Fetterman not 
 
THE WAGOX-BOX FIGHT 205 
 
 to pursue the Indians. Fetterman had a 
 great contempt for the Sioux as fighters. 
 He and other young officers and many of 
 the soldiers thought they knew a lot more 
 than the commanding general. Fetterman 
 had bragged that, with eighty men, he could 
 ride through the whole Sioux nation." 
 
 " Did he relieve the wood-train? " ques- 
 tioned Hank. 
 
 " Yes, he did. That is, the Indians left 
 the wood-train as soon as their scouts re- 
 ported that more soldiers were coming. 
 
 " In some way they led Fetterman on be- 
 yond a ridge, which he had been ordered not 
 to cross. He disobeyed his orders, and he 
 and every man in his command lost their 
 lives. 
 
 " It was a terrible loss, for it wiped out 
 about one-fourth of the whole garrison." 
 
 " But this vv^as not the Wagon-Box 
 Fight? "asked Don. 
 
 " No, it was not. That came next sum- 
 mer, in 1867, but I had to tell you first 
 something about our life at Fort Phil Kear- 
 ney on the Little Piney, in Wyoming. 
 
206 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 "We had many fights all through the 
 winter, but we fought them from the 
 wagon-boxes on August second, '67. 
 
 " It was on Piney Island, and my com- 
 pany, under Major James Powell, had been 
 sent to protect the contractors who were 
 cutting wood on the island, and I never ex- 
 pect to see a hotter fight. 
 
 " I don't know why the place was called 
 an island, it was just a big piece of pine 
 timber with some open spots. Piney Creek 
 ran on one side of it, and I believe there was 
 a dry run on the other side; maybe that 
 is the reason General Carrington called the 
 place Piney Island. In one of the open 
 spots we had made a corral of wagon-boxes, 
 and in this corral we kept the forage for the 
 horses and some supplies for the men." 
 ' "But, Pete, why did you fight from 
 wagon -boxes? " asked Don. 
 
 " Just wait a bit, son, and you will know. 
 If it hadn't been for the wagon-boxes, I 
 wouldn't be Cactus Pete any more, and I 
 wouldn't be denned up here telling you 
 about it. We were just thirty-two white 
 
THE WAGON-BOX FIGHT 207 
 
 men in that fight, thirty-two, remember, but 
 there was a whole woods full of Indians, 
 3,000 of them, maybe more." 
 
 The boys looked dubiously at Joe. 
 *' That's right, lads," Joe volunteered. 
 " This is a true story and the nmnbers are 
 right. Of course, nobody counted the In- 
 dians, but Red Cloud, who was then the 
 most famous war chief, had all his braves 
 there, and was determined to destroy Fort 
 Phil Kearney." 
 
 " Wall, the row started in earnest on Au- 
 gust second, pretty early in the morning," 
 continued Pete, who was now warming up 
 to his story. 
 
 " The hills and the woods were just run- 
 ning over with Indians. They fell upon the 
 wood-train and the woodcutters, but when 
 we, that is twenty-six of us under Captain 
 Powell and Lieutenant Jenness, went after 
 them, they let the train and the woodcutters 
 get away and all made for us. Of course, 
 we couldn't stop them and we retreated into 
 a wagon-box corral on an open spot in the 
 woods. Four civilians joined us here; all 
 
208 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 four were frontiersmen and good shots. We 
 were plumb glad to see them." 
 
 " Did they give you time to make the cor- 
 ral? " asked Don. 
 
 " No, lads, we had made it before. Four- 
 teen wagon-boxes and two wagons we had 
 arranged like this," and Pete drew a dia- 
 gram on the ground. 
 
 " We kept all kinds of supplies in this 
 corral, bales of clothing, sacks of corn, and 
 other things. With big augers we had 
 drilled loopholes in the wagon-boxes, and we 
 piled sacks of corn and goods against the 
 inside of the boxes and between them; any- 
 thing that would turn a bullet we used in 
 our little fort. 
 
 " We had plenty of breech-loading rifles, 
 the Allen model of the old Springfields, and 
 
THE WAGON-BOX FIGHT 209 
 
 plenty of Colt's revolvers and lots of am- 
 munition. Some men, who were poor shots, 
 were detailed to do nothing but load the 
 guns. 
 
 " It was lucky that the Reds gave us a 
 little time to get ready, while they stopped 
 to plunder and burn the woodcutters' camp. 
 But now they were surely coming for us. 
 
 " * Pete, thar's a thousand of them! ' my 
 partner in the box whispered. * Look, they 
 are going to ride plumb over us ! ' 
 
 " Wall, on they came with a rush, all 
 painted up and in their war bonnets, 600 of 
 them I should say. When the solid mass 
 was within fifty yards of us. Captain Powell 
 called, ^Firel' 
 
 "Down they came, ponies and men; we 
 couldn't miss them. But they didn't stop. 
 They divided and circled around us, and you 
 may believe we kept the guns blazing at 
 them, and they did not spare us either. But 
 we got them rattled; for each of us had 
 two breech-loaders and one old trapper used 
 eight gims. 
 
 " I reckon they had figured we would give 
 
210 THE THKEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 them one volley and then they would ride 
 over us and finish us quick. I never heard 
 of Indians standing so much punishment, 
 but our steady blaze was too much for them. 
 They broke and fled out of range, what there 
 was left of them. In front of the corral, 
 where they had made the first charge, there 
 was a terrible sight; dead and wounded 
 horses and men lying as thick as if they 
 had been mowed down. 
 
 " But they did not intend to give up. Red 
 Cloud now sent out some 700 skirmishers on 
 foot, and they kept up a steady fire of guns 
 and arrows. The arrows did not worry us 
 much; we caught them in blankets spread 
 over the wagon-boxes. 
 
 " By and by they must Have thought that 
 most of us were dead, for we only fired when 
 we could see a head. Now the whole mob, I 
 should say a thousand of them, started to 
 charge us on foot. On they came, nearer 
 and nearer in spite of our bullets dropping 
 them right and left. So close they came, 
 that some of the soldiers lost their nerve and 
 threw augers and other tools at them. It 
 
THE WAGON-BOX FIGHT 211 
 
 was a terrible moment. The foremost In- 
 juns were within a few feet of the corral. 
 If they once got inside for a hand-to-hand 
 fight our little band could last only a few 
 minutes. Fortunately most of our men kept 
 up a deadly fire with rifles and pistols, which 
 just in the nick of time proved more than 
 they could stand. They broke and ran for 
 the hills, from which Red Cloud and the old 
 chiefs and the women and children had been 
 watching the fight. 
 
 " They made four charges after this one, 
 but in none of these did they come danger- 
 ously near the corral. 
 
 " In the middle of the afternoon Red 
 Cloud sent out his skirmishers again, and 
 we thought the end had come. But they had 
 had enough, and only tried to carry off their 
 dead and wounded, and we could now 
 plainly hear the death songs of the old men 
 and women. 
 
 " About three in the afternoon a shell 
 burst in the midst of the Indian skirmishers, 
 and we saw soldiers in blue charging the In- 
 dians. And you ought to have heard the 
 
212 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 hurrahs from the soldiers and from our men 
 in the wagon-boxes. 
 
 " The guard and the woodcutters had 
 brought the news of our plight to the fort 
 and Major Smith with a hundred men and a 
 howitzer had been sent to our relief. 
 
 " The Sioux could have destroyed us all, 
 but they had lost heart. We retreated to 
 the fort without another attack, and left the 
 corral to the Indians. 
 
 " And that is the story of our fight in the 
 Wagon-Box and how we got out alive." 
 
 " Didn't you lose any men at all? " asked 
 Hank. 
 
 " Yes, we did. Lieutenant Jenness and a 
 soldier were killed and two men were 
 wounded. It has always been a mystery to 
 me that not more of us were killed, but In- 
 dians under excitement are poor shots and 
 we had fixed up a mighty good fort. 
 
 " Of course, if they had caught us in the 
 open, or had attacked us in the open, while 
 we were marching back to the fort, not a 
 man would have been left to tell the story. 
 
 " Believe me, boys, there never was such a 
 
THE WAGON-BOX FIGHT 213 
 
 fort for fights and more fights as Fort Phil 
 Kearney on the Little Pmey in Wyommg. 
 
 " It is a shame that the government aban- 
 doned it. I heard that the Indians burnt it 
 as soon as the soldiers had left. 
 
 " Lord, how that storm roars! " 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 STRANGE HORSE-FEED 
 
 When Pete closed his story, the lads had, 
 at once, many questions to ask. 
 
 " How many men did the Indians lose? " 
 they wanted to know. 
 
 " Wall, lads," Pete answered, " nobody 
 can tell exactly, but we must have killed 
 and wounded a thousand of them. As I told 
 you, each of us had two rifles and, at least, 
 one six-shooter ; and an old trapper who was 
 with us used eight guns. 
 
 " General Sheridan had a talk with this 
 old man some time after the battle. ' How 
 many Indians did you kill? ' asked the Gen- 
 eral. 
 
 " ' Wall, General, I can't say for sartin. 
 But give me a dead rest, and I can hit a dol- 
 lar at fifty yards every time, and I fired with 
 a dead rest about fifty times.' 
 
 " ' Great Scott! How many guns did you 
 
 use? ' 
 
 214 
 
STRANGE HORSE-FEED 215 
 
 " ' Wall, General, for about three hours I 
 kept eight of 'em pretty well het up.' 
 
 " It is a fact that many of the guns became 
 so heated that the men could not touch them 
 for a while. Some of the soldiers who had 
 their canteens filled used the water to cool 
 the guns. Red Cloud admitted some years 
 later that he lost half of his men, a..^ he had 
 about 3,000 warriors. 
 
 " The Indians were dazed at their terrible 
 loss, for they had never before met a number 
 of determined men with breech-loading 
 rifles. They always spoke of this fight as the 
 battle in which the whites made ' bad medi- 
 cine.' Indians are ver}^ superstitious, and 
 anything which goes wrong is attributed to 
 ' bad medicine.' When Major Smith re- 
 lieved the men, they were so nearly ex- 
 hausted that they could not have resisted an- 
 other attack. Some of them, including 
 Major Powell, never recovered from the ef- 
 fects of the terrible strain." 
 
 " How did the Sioux recover their dead 
 and wounded? " asked the boys. 
 
 " An Indian would crawl up," Pete re- 
 
216 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 lated, " under cover of bushes or trees or 
 under his war-shield, fasten a rope to a foot 
 or hand, and other Indians would drag the 
 body away, but those near the corral they 
 did not get, till we had left. Believe me, we 
 were glad to leave and did not stop to count 
 the dead." 
 
 Whc Pete would not talk any more 
 about the battle, the boys went outside to 
 cut some wood, but the storm was so bad 
 that it was impossible to stay outside more 
 than a few minutes at a time. So they 
 brought in long sticks and fed the ends into 
 the fire after the manner known as the " lazy 
 man's camp-fire." 
 
 In the afternoon Pete grew impatient of 
 being idle and, the rope in one hand and the 
 shovel in the other, he started out to find the 
 horses. 
 
 In ten minutes he crawled back into the 
 tepee looking like a live snow-man, with his 
 eyes and mouth closed with frozen snow. 
 
 " It is no use, men," he said, brushing the 
 snow out of his eyes; " if I had not held on 
 to the rope, I could not have found the tepee 
 
STRANGE HORSE-FEED 217 
 
 again. We cannot do a thing for the poor 
 beasts. Thank God, we reached shelter and 
 had time to set up the tepee. If we had not, 
 we should have frozen to death. This is the 
 worst blizzard I ever saw, and it is getting 
 terribly cold." 
 
 " A winter campaign," remarked Joe, 
 " was bad enough south of the Arkansas, but 
 in a storm like this, troops and horses would 
 freeze to death. In this northern country 
 the soldiers would be as helpless as the In- 
 dians." 
 
 Late in the afternoon boys and men had 
 another big meal, and at dusk they wrapped 
 themselves in their robes and blankets for 
 another long sleep, with the storm roaring as 
 fiercely as ever, and the night again turning 
 pitch-dark. 
 
 The next morning, however, the storm had 
 moderated, but the weather had turned so 
 bitterly cold that nothing but buffalo coats 
 and fur caps kept out the icy blast. 
 
 After a quick breakfast, all four of them 
 started out to look for the horses. 
 
 Where were they? Had they strayed off 
 
218 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 before the wind and were lost or frozen to 
 death? In that case men and boys might 
 have to go back once more to Fort Totten 
 and stay there mitil spring. If indeed they 
 could ever reach Fort Totten on foot. 
 
 It was now possible to see objects at a dis- 
 tance of fifty yards, about half the length 
 of a city block. 
 
 For half an hour, they searched along the 
 side of the butte, and the lads began to fear 
 that Pete and Joe would lose their bearing 
 in the storm. But Pete explained that the 
 wind was coming from the northwest and 
 was not likely to change for many hours. 
 
 " If the snow does not come down any 
 thicker," he promised, " I can find the way 
 back, because I can tell by the wind that we 
 are now going east." 
 
 Joe and Pete feared that the horses might 
 not have found any good shelter because 
 they did not know the country. 
 
 " If this was their home country," Joe de- 
 clared, " I would not look for them at all in 
 this weather. I would feel sure that they 
 had found shelter as quickly as wild animals. 
 
STRANGE HORSE-FEED 219 
 
 Let us look for them in this small canyon. I 
 think it is what plainsmen call a box- 
 can von." 
 
 To their great joy they came suddenly 
 upon four of the animals, huddled together 
 under a cliff, and half buried in a snow-drift. 
 One of the anmials neighed when he heard 
 the voices of the men. 
 
 "There they are! There they are!" 
 shouted Don. " I bet they are glad to see 
 
 us." 
 
 The animals did not seem to be much the 
 worse for their experience, although they 
 looked thin and cold. 
 
 " Don't you think their feet are frozen? " 
 Don wondered. 
 
 " I have often thought of that myself," 
 Pete replied. " I have known of horses hav- 
 ing their ears frozen in a storm, but their feet 
 don't seem to freeze, although it is a riddle 
 to me how they keep them warm. The jack- 
 rabbit has his toes encased in a sort of fur 
 boot, but the foot of a horse is perfectly bare. 
 The poor critters are hungry, and we must 
 feed them." 
 
220 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 The boys looked at each other in surprise. 
 " What can we feed them? " they asked. 
 
 " Dig them out/' Pete told the boys, " and 
 then take them over to those cottonwoods 
 and cut down a few trees for them. Yes, I 
 mean it," he added as the boys looked doubt- 
 fully at each other. " Cut down a few trees 
 for them, while Joe and I look for the 
 others." 
 
 After some time the men brought two 
 more horses, and the lads saw with wonder 
 how the horses peeled the branches of the 
 Cottonwood and ate the bark with great 
 relish. 
 
 " Did you never hear of horses eating 
 bark? " Pete asked. " If an Indian pony has 
 plenty of cottonwood bark, he will keep in 
 fairly good condition. We are real Indians 
 now, for they never do any more for their 
 ponies than cut down some cottonwoods for 
 them." 
 
 The other two horses could not be found. 
 " They may be dead, and buried in a snow- 
 drift," Pete explained, " or they may have 
 wandered off some distance. If we do not 
 
STEANGE HORSE-FEED 221 
 
 find them again, we have to get along with 
 those that we have found. A good many- 
 Indian ponies die every winter, and most of 
 those that live through the winter are very 
 poor and weak in spring." 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 UNSEEN DANGER 
 
 For several days the weather was so cold 
 that both men and boys were glad to stay in 
 camp the greater part of the day. They cut 
 dry wood for their fire, for they had all 
 learned to agree with Pete that a tepee with 
 a fire in it is apt to be a smoke-house, unless 
 the wood is dry and the fire is carefully 
 tended. 
 
 " An Indian," remarked Pete when the 
 boys wiped the tears out of their eyes, " likes 
 a little smoke. If you boys want to play 
 Indians, a few wreaths of smoke should not 
 bother you." 
 
 Pete and Joe discovered that their camp 
 
 was only a few rods from the Little Missouri, 
 
 and they cut a hole through the ice to get 
 
 water. It had been a revelation to the boys 
 
 to learn how slowly a pailful of snow would 
 
 melt and how little water it made. 
 
 " Here, lads, take a good drink," Joe 
 
 222 
 
UNSEEN DANGER 223 
 
 called, when the men returned with two pails 
 of water. " That snow-water is pretty flat 
 stuff for drinking; and it takes all day to 
 melt enough for our needs." 
 
 The boys looked after the horses by 
 cutting down some more cottonwoods for 
 them, and never got over admiring the way 
 in which the hungry aninals peeled the 
 boughs and branches clean, and they won- 
 dered how the Indian ponies learned that 
 Cottonwood bark was as good as grass or hay. 
 
 " Don't you know that all horses have a 
 liking for bark? " Joe reminded them. 
 " Don't you remember that Uncle Reuben 
 told you never to tie his horse to a tree? 
 Even a farm horse or carriage horse, that 
 had plenty of grass and hay, will start eat- 
 ing bark, if you tie him to a tree for any 
 length of time. The teeth of a horse seem 
 to be made for peeling bark, while coavs, 
 deer, and buffaloes have no front teeth in 
 the upper jaw and they find peeling bark 
 pretty hard work." 
 
 Although the campers ate only two meals 
 a day, their meat was going very fast, and 
 
224. THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 as soon as the weather moderated a little all 
 four of them went on a deer hunt. The 
 game had all left the open country and had 
 sought shelter in the small gi'oves and thick- 
 ets of the valley, and they secured two fat 
 deer within a mile of the camp. 
 
 Hank and Don were proud boys, indeed, 
 when they rode back to camp, each with a 
 whole deer behind the saddle. " Now we 
 have plenty of meat for a long time," Don 
 exclaimed. " Joe, you surely didn't lie 
 about the game in this country. Wouldn't 
 the boys in the city stare if they could see us 
 now? I wish I could write to Fatty Jones 
 and Skip Tompkins. They said we would 
 be afraid to go right into the buffalo country, 
 but I would rather eat venison than buffalo. 
 Wouldn't you, Joe? 
 
 The old soldier smiled, pleased at the en- 
 thusiasm of the lad. 
 
 " No," he answered, " I prefer fat young 
 buffalo beef. One can eat that longer with- 
 out tiring of it than any other kind of wild 
 meat, including turkeys and prairie-chick- 
 ens." 
 
UNSEEN DANGER 225 
 
 " Oh, Joe," called Don, " there sits a big 
 jack-rabbit. I see the black tips of his ears. 
 May I get him?" 
 
 " All right," assented Joe. " I don't see 
 him yet. He is hardly worth a shot, but get 
 him if you can. I'll cook us a hunter's stew 
 of rabbit, and liver, heart, and tripe of the 
 deer. We must not waste any good meat." 
 
 *'Deer tripe?" questioned Hank. " What 
 is tripe? " 
 
 " The large stomach of all cud-chewing 
 animals like deer, elk, moose, buffalo, cattle, 
 and sheep. We can wash it in the river, and 
 you will find it mighty fine eating when 
 boiled in a stew." 
 
 " Do the Indians eat it? " inquired Don. 
 
 " They certainly do," Pete chuckled as if 
 he thought of some funny incidents. 
 " When meat is scarce the Indians waste 
 nothing of their game. They eat every- 
 thing except the skin and bones, and they 
 split the leg-bones to eat the marrow-fat." 
 
 " If it is good fat we shall eat it," declared 
 the boys. "We did not like fat meat in 
 town, but here we like the fat meat best." 
 
226 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 " How do the Indians clean their game? " 
 asked Don. 
 
 " Wall, boys, I tell you," Pete explained 
 laughing, " if you want to know that, just 
 read what Lewis and Clark tell about it. 
 Joe has the book in his saddle-bag. I once 
 saw some Indians in Minnesota who had 
 killed a moose. Wall, you may believe it or 
 not, those Injuns camped near the moose 
 till they eat it up, the hull of it. Just like 
 Lewis and Clark's Injuns eat the deer. 
 
 " Injims reason that deer and moose and 
 buffalo do not eat anything unclean, so 
 there cannot be anything unclean in them. 
 Well, you fellows had better read Lewis and 
 Clark. For a white man, Indians are not 
 very clean cooks, or very clean in anything." 
 
 " Hurry up a little, you fellows, all three 
 of you," Joe broke into their talk; " we have 
 to skin our deer and cut up the meat before 
 it freezes stiff. You can do your talking 
 after supper. Get some more wood, you 
 boys, and see that the horses are all right." 
 
 The boys could hardly wait till the hunt- 
 er's stew was done and all four of the camp- 
 
UNSEEN DANGER 227 
 
 ers ate such quantities of meat that Joe de- 
 clared laughing they would have to go after 
 buffalo and elk if he was to be cook for such 
 a wolfish crew. 
 
 " The way you are eating, you need five 
 or six pounds of meat a day, each one of you, 
 and the venison will scarcely last us a week. 
 We have to live on the country now, and 
 save our little flour and other food we 
 brought with us, but you can each have a 
 biscuit of hardtack to-night, for this chief 
 is making a big feast for his two young 
 hunters." 
 
 Although the weather had moderated a 
 good deal, it was still bitterly cold ; and both 
 Joe and Pete did not consider it safe to start 
 on their long journey to Bozeman with the 
 prospect of wearing out or losing their 
 horses. Both agreed that they ought to re- 
 main on the Little Missouri till most of the 
 snow had melted or had been absorbed by 
 the dry air of the plains. 
 
 In this broken country, the Bad Lands of 
 the Little Missouri, they felt sure of finding 
 enough game for themselves, and enough 
 
228 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 grass or cottonwoods to keep their horses 
 alive. The shelter for themselves and their 
 beasts was as good as could be found any- 
 where on the Northern Plains, and all the 
 four campers were in fine health. 
 
 There was only one thing which gave them 
 much anxiety. How far were they from 
 the nearest Indian camp? True, they had 
 seen no sign of Sioux since they left Fort 
 Totten, but both Joe and Pete had had too 
 much experience with Indians to let this fact 
 lull them into a feeling of careless security. 
 
 Some of the Indians on Devil's Lake had 
 told Cactus Pete that the country on the 
 Little Missouri was a favorite winter camp- 
 ing-ground of Sitting Bull and his peo- 
 ple. 
 
 The Little Missouri, as its name implies, 
 is but a small stream compared with its great 
 namesake, which drains nearly the whole of 
 the Great Plains and a large part of the 
 Rocky Mountains, a region as large as 
 France, Great Britain, and Germany to- 
 gether. During the days of our story the 
 Missouri was navigated by steamboats from 
 
UjS'SEEN danger 229 
 
 St. Louis to Fort Benton, INIontana, a dis- 
 tance of some 3,000 miles by river. 
 
 Compared with this mighty stream, one of 
 the great rivers of the earth, Wakpa-sheeka, 
 the Little Missouri is only a small river. But 
 compared with the rivers of Europe and the 
 smaller streams of this country, it is not so 
 insignificant, and it drains one of the most 
 picturesque and romantic regions of the 
 West, the Bad Lands of North Dakota, one 
 of the regions of our country not yet discov- 
 ered by our tourists and our painters, like the 
 rugged Black Hills and Bad Lands of South 
 Dakota. 
 
 " Bad Lands " the old traders and trap- 
 pers called them, but " Enchanted Lands " 
 would be a far more appropriate name. 
 Through the " Enchanted Lands " of North 
 Dakota, Wakpa-sheeka, the Little jNIissouri 
 winds its way for more than two hundred 
 miles. 
 
 To tell of its buttes and mesas, its canyons 
 and plains, its bold cliffs and castellated 
 rocks, its great lignite beds, running as broad 
 black seams in the cliffs along the turbid 
 
230 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 winding stream, would require another book. 
 Many of these great beds of very soft coal 
 caught fire a long, long time ago. In burn- 
 ing, they baked the soft clay into a hard 
 rock, and colored it with the bright red of 
 burnt brick, and left great masses of glassy 
 slag scattered on hills and slopes. The 
 country looks as if created in a great catas- 
 trophe of nature, but all the strange, wonder- 
 ful scenery was made by the slow and steady 
 working forces of rain and wind, of carving 
 creeks and rivers, with here and there a touch 
 of fire; but of earthquakes and volcanoes 
 there have been none. 
 
 It was in the Enchanted Lands of the 
 Little Missouri that the late President 
 Roosevelt learned to love the West and the 
 life of the cowboy and rancher. 
 
 The Bad Lands of the Little Missouri 
 was one of the regions loved by the wild 
 buffaloes, elk, deer, and mountain sheep. It 
 was one of the regions the Sioux loved and 
 were ready to fight for, and Indians do love 
 their tribal home as intensely as any white 
 man ever loved his native land. No white 
 
UNSEEN DANGER 231 
 
 man suffers more from homesickness than 
 an Indian. 
 
 In a dry season, the Little Missouri is 
 only a small creek, and it may even rmi dry 
 in places. But when the snow melts or the 
 rain falls, it quickly becomes a real river, 
 gathering the muddy waters from a thou- 
 sand small creeks and gullies, nearly all of 
 them dry a few days or hours after the rain, 
 and it drains an area of 7,500 square miles, 
 only 1,000 square miles less than the whole 
 State of Massachusetts. 
 
 Apparently a country of this size is large 
 enough for many Indians and white men to 
 camp in and roam over and never meet, but 
 it must be remembered that the Plains In- 
 dians were horse Indians, and that in good 
 weather, mounted on their enduring ponies, 
 a journey of a hundred miles or two meant 
 nothing to them. 
 
 Joe and Pete had many times discussed 
 the probable location of the winter camps of 
 the hostile Sioux; and always reluctantly 
 came to the conclusion that, at least, one of 
 the hostile chiefs, most likely Sitting Bull, 
 
232 THE THREAT OP SITTING BULL 
 
 was north of the Yellowstone, probably 
 somewhere on the Little Missouri. 
 
 " Hang them all, Joe," Pete would say 
 when he warmed up in the discussion, 
 " them Indians can't all camp on the Powder 
 and the Rosebud or the Big Horn. Thar's 
 too many of them. They have to scatter to 
 find feed for their ponies. The Little 
 Missouri country is good Indian country. 
 Plenty of grass, water, shelter, and cotton- 
 woods, and plenty of game. I'll eat my 
 shirt, Joe, if we can't see smoke from one 
 of the high buttes. 
 
 " I don't fear them Indians as long as thar 
 ain't more than five to one against us, but I 
 didn't make a bet to capture Sitting Bull 
 and his hull camp. It wouldn't surprise me, 
 if the old devil had his camp within five 
 miles of us. In that case, we want to pack 
 up and get out before his young bucks see 
 our smoke." 
 
 " Maybe you are right, Pete," Joe had to 
 admit. " One can't see any distance in this 
 confusion and wilderness of buttes and 
 cliffs. I say we scout for Indians to-morrow. 
 
UNSEEN DANGER 233 
 
 if it doesn't blow and is not too horribly 
 cold." 
 
 " That's the game," Pete agreed. " Nary 
 another day should we stay here without 
 learning if we have any Sioux neighbors." 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 SCOUTING FOR INDIANS 
 
 Next morning the four campers left their 
 spare horses peeling cottonwood bark and 
 started for Sentinel Butte, the highest point 
 in the present State of North Dakota and 
 only about fifteen miles from their camp, 
 which had been located near the present 
 town of Medora, the romantic story of which 
 we have not space to tell. 
 
 The weather was no longer severely cold, 
 but both Don and Hank scouted on foot 
 from time to time in order to keep warm; for 
 a man on horseback is always exposed to the 
 full force of the wind. 
 
 Sentinel Butte, one of many lone, steep 
 
 hills scattered over the great plain, was 
 
 clearly visible as soon as the horsemen had 
 
 climbed out of the valley of the Little 
 
 Missouri. 
 
 " Hank, let's make a run for it," Don 
 
 234 
 
SCOUTING FOR mDIANS 235 
 
 challenged his brother. " It is only about 
 three miles off." 
 
 Pete and Joe had no objection to the boys' 
 riding ahead, but cautioned them not to get 
 their horses heated. 
 
 The boys rode along at a brisk gait, but 
 there was something strange about that 
 butte, for after an hour's ride, it seemed as 
 far as ever. 
 
 " Let us wait for the men," said Hank; 
 " we are not getting any nearer to that 
 butte." 
 
 "What is the matter?" asked Joe. 
 " Have you struck an Indian trail? " 
 
 " No," replied Hank, " we have not. We 
 just stopped to ask Pete if he had ever seen 
 a sliding mountain." 
 
 " What do you mean? " Pete asked, oflp 
 his guard for a moment. 
 
 " That butte," Hank asserted as if talk- 
 ing to Joe, " has been sliding west all morn- 
 ing. It is farther away now than it was 
 when we started." 
 
 " Off with ye ! Ye scamps," Pete broke in 
 now and threatened the lads with his riding- 
 
236 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 quirt. "Off with ye! "he repeated. "That 
 thar butte was fifteen miles off when we 
 started for it, and I reckon it is still a little 
 better than ten miles to windward. It's the 
 clear air. On the Pacific coast you can see 
 some mountains a hundred miles away. Off 
 with ye, and be careful you don't freeze your 
 faces ! " 
 
 When the lads were at a safe distance, 
 Don turned in the saddle: " Hey, Mr. Pete 
 Lawrence!" he called, "do you remember 
 when that mountain was a hole in the 
 ground? " 
 
 In answer Pete swung his quirt over his 
 head and pretended to be whipping up his 
 pony, and the boys, with a shout, disappeared 
 over a ridge. 
 
 In about two hours more, they all arrived 
 at the foot of the butte, where they picketed 
 their horses, although the feed was very 
 poor. Most of the dead gTass was covered 
 by snow, while the tufts of sage-brush that 
 projected above the white blanket only 
 added to the inhospitable appearance of the 
 country. 
 
SCOUTIXG FOR INDIANS 237 
 
 Pete sat down in the sun under the lee of 
 a rock to remain with the horses, while the 
 others climbed to the flat top of Sentinel 
 Butte about eight hundred feet above the 
 plain. 
 
 From this point a wild wintry landscape 
 was spread out below them. It seemed to 
 the boys that they could see fifty miles in 
 every direction. They searched every val- 
 ley and depression amongst the lower red- 
 topped buttes and every patch of cotton- 
 woods, willow^s, and bushes of buffalo-berry 
 for signs of human life. They made out, 
 through Joe's glass, several small bands of 
 buffaloes, elk, and antelopes, but no haze of 
 smoke was visible anywhere. A wilderness 
 of red buttes, gray walls, black coal seams, 
 and rugged hummocks stretched away north 
 and south along the winding valley of the 
 Little Missouri, while east and west a glit- 
 tering snow-covered plam met the horizon. 
 
 "No signs of Indians," reported the 
 scouts, when they returned to Pete, who 
 seemed to have taken a nap in the sunshine. 
 
 " I didn't expect them here," remarked 
 
238 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 Pete, " but I reckon we shall see enough of 
 them if we climb Bullion Butte." 
 
 " Which one is that? " asked Don. 
 
 " That hill over yonder, southeast from 
 here, about fifteen or twenty miles away," 
 Pete pointed out. 
 
 " What is your weather forecast, Pete? " 
 asked Joe, "Is it safe to strike out for it 
 to-day?" 
 
 " Clear to-day and to-morrow, but more 
 storms next week," predicted Pete with 
 grave assurance. " Let us make a good job 
 of this scouting, while we are at it. The 
 weather may not be much warmer till 
 April." 
 
 So they struck off across the comitry for 
 Bullion Butte, a little more than fifteen 
 miles south of Medora. Wrapped in their 
 big coats they rode straight across the plain. 
 When they crossed Warner Creek, they 
 stopped long enough to cut through the ice 
 in a water-hole to refresh themselves and 
 the ponies with a good drink. 
 
 The horses travelled as if rather unwilling 
 to go farther away from camp. 
 
SCOUTINa FOR INDIANS 239 
 
 " They are getting tired and hungry," de- 
 clared Pete. " Mules would have stood up 
 much better." 
 
 " Why didn't you come on a mule? " re- 
 torted Joe. " I would not ride one of the 
 contrary critters." 
 
 The boys wondered if it was safe to leave 
 the camp and the other horses over night. 
 
 " No, it is not very safe," admitted Joe. 
 " Nothing is very safe on these plains, but I 
 always disliked dividing a small party. It 
 always means that one will be worrying 
 about the safetv of the other." 
 
 The boys were surprised at the endurance 
 of the ponies, which had eaten nothing but 
 the poorest kind of grass and cotton wood 
 bark ever since the travellers were caught in 
 the storm. The little beasts seemed to un- 
 derstand now that they were not to return to 
 the home camp for the night, and plodded 
 along stubbornly as if they knew what was 
 expected of them. 
 
 The boys were feeling more hungry than 
 tired and hoped that they would not have to 
 climb Bullion Butte before supper. 
 
240 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 The sun was getting rather low, when 
 quite suddenly the deep valley of a creek 
 opened up before the travellers only a mile 
 from the foot of the great butte. 
 
 " Pete, what do you think of this spot? " 
 asked Joe as he stopped his pony in a patch 
 of small cottonwoods. 
 
 " I reckon it is as good as any other," com- 
 mented Pete. " You and the lads might set 
 up camp, while I do a little climbing and 
 scouting." 
 
 In less than an hour Pete was back. "All 
 is quiet on the Little Missouri, as far as my 
 old eyes can make out in the dusk," he re- 
 ported. " Hand me a piece of your venison 
 ' chuck,' my stomach is calling. Joe, that 
 fire looks mighty homey." 
 
 While men and boys were eating their 
 meat and enjoying copious draughts of 
 sweet hot tea, the ponies were eagerly peel- 
 ing the cottonwoods, which the boys had cut 
 for them. 
 
 " Your Boston riding-school horses would 
 not take very much to these cottonwood 
 oats," remarked Pete. " We must give Joe 
 
SCOUTING FOR INDIANS 241 
 
 credit for being a good horse-trader. The 
 Kiowas surely taught him something use- 
 ful." 
 
 " Yes," replied Joe smiling, " they also 
 taught me to be modest. He-Knocks-His- 
 Head is not a name to make a man boastful." 
 
 For a while the men kept the fire replen- 
 ished, while thev chatted of the events of the 
 da}^ and speculated as to the location of Sit- 
 ting Bull's camp. 
 
 " I hope the old fellow did not locate 
 north of us," Pete concluded. *' In that 
 case his young men will be sure to straggle 
 up to our camp, for the valley gets deeper 
 down-stream, and the hunting is not so 
 good." 
 
 The stars now twinkled brilliantly and the 
 moon showed buttes, crags, and cliffs in bold 
 relief, while it cast rugged black shadows 
 into the valley. The coyotes howled and 
 yapped close by and the gray wolves began 
 their wild song in the distance. A buck that 
 had been attracted by the camp-fire snorted 
 at the intruders of his solitude and stamped 
 about in a willow thicket for half an hour. 
 
242 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 " Can't we drive him out? " asked Don. 
 '' He makes me feel as if there were Indians 
 around us." 
 
 " Let him alone, boys," requested Joe. 
 " He will go as soon as he has satisfied his 
 curiosity. Picket the horses and let us go to 
 bed. It seems hard to restrict the poor 
 beasts on this winter range, but I fear they 
 might start for the home camp before we are 
 ready." 
 
 All four of the campers exchanged their 
 boots for moccasins and leggins, each one se- 
 lected a suitable spot, rolled himself into his 
 blankets and buffalo robe, and slept Indian 
 fashion with his head under cover. 
 
 In the morning after breakfast, Pete and 
 the boys climbed the butte, while Joe stayed 
 in camp with the horses. The boys wanted 
 Joe to come along, but Pete objected. 
 
 " We take no chances on losing the 
 horses," he protested. " I have seen too 
 many Indians jump out of the ground, and 
 we don't want to run any foot-races in this 
 country." 
 
 " Indians? " exclaimed the boys. " Have 
 you seen any? " 
 
SCOUTING FOR INDIANS 243 
 
 " No I haven't, but we take no chances. 
 One of us stays with the horses." 
 
 The view from Bullion Butte was even 
 more rugged, with a gTcat number of lower 
 red-topped buttes close by than could be 
 seen from Sentinel Butte. For Bullion 
 Butte rises in a typical Bad Land region 
 and close to the Little Missouri. 
 
 But Pete had no eyes for scenery. Glass 
 in hand he was scanning the winding river 
 toward the southwest. While the lads were 
 still lost in wonder at the fantastic scene, the 
 like of which is not found in all the Eastern 
 States, Pete called them to come back to 
 camp with him. 
 
 " Bad news ! " he called to Joe. " Sitting 
 Bull's camp is right over there, about fifteen 
 miles awav." 
 
 " Did you see the camp? " 
 
 " No, not the camp, but the smoke is plain 
 as day, and you and I know that means In- 
 dian camp. They are too close to us, Joe, 
 only thirty miles. We must strike out for 
 Bozeman or find a safer camp. When the 
 weather gets a little warmer we are likely to 
 have visitors any day." 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 / 
 
 THE MOUNTAIN ON FIRE 
 
 The men lost no time in getting started 
 for the home camp, choosing the route down 
 the valley of the Little Missouri. 
 
 In almost every sheltered nook and in 
 every patch of timber they found both 
 white-tail and black-tail deer or elk. Bands 
 of bighorn sheep stood watching them from 
 the cliffs and flat tops of many buttes, while 
 small herds of buffaloes and antelopes had 
 already returned to their upland grazing 
 grounds, where the snow had not lodged. 
 The animals were so fearless that they often 
 let the horsemen approach within a stone's 
 throw. 
 
 " That is a good sign," declared Pete. 
 " If the Indians had been after them they 
 would be much wilder." 
 
 Of bird life they saw but little, except 
 
 sage-hens and chattering magpies; and one 
 
 244 
 
THE M0U:N^TAIN on fire 245 
 
 golden eagle was seen sailing in great spirals 
 down the valley. The men did no hunting, 
 because they had still plenty of meat at the 
 camp. 
 
 The horses, although they had never been 
 over the route, seemed to know where the 
 party was going, and the steep walls of the 
 valley sheltered the horsemen so well from 
 the wind that the trip was very pleasant. 
 
 Only one thing made Joe and Pete feel 
 uneasy, and that was the condition of their 
 ponies. The animals all began to show 
 signs of exhaustion and hunger. 
 
 " If they were not Indian ponies," Joe de- 
 clared, " we would have a hard time getting 
 them back to camp. This snow^ has covered 
 up so much of the good grass that it leaves 
 them pretty poor picking." 
 
 The party reached the home camp in the 
 middle of the afternoon, without seeing any 
 other Indian signs, except what they had 
 seen from Bullion Butte. 
 
 " I hope," said Pete, " it will snow and 
 blow a little, before any Sioux hunters strike 
 our trail." 
 
246 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 They found their other horses about a 
 mile from camp, and after cutting down a 
 few cottonwoods, they turned all the animals 
 loose. 
 
 Pete and Joe discussed all the dangers of 
 settling down in a permanent winter camp 
 and of starting at once for Bozeman. 
 
 They agreed that for the present they 
 could not hope to complete the journey with- 
 out the loss of some of their ponies, and with- 
 out giving those that held out several days 
 of rest from time to time, whenever they 
 should reach a good and safe camping 
 ground. 
 
 If on this journey they fell in with In- 
 dians, they feared that tHey could neither 
 flee nor fight. Their horses would not be 
 able to make speed unless all equipment was 
 abandoned; and if the men made a stand, 
 they would not be able to dig any rifle-pits, 
 because the gi'ound was frozen hard; and 
 they were still nearly seven hundred miles 
 from Bozeman. 
 
 On the other hand, if they put up a good 
 strong camp in some sheltered and secluded 
 
THE MOUNTAIN ON FIRE 247 
 
 spot farther down the Little Missouri, they 
 would have little difficulty in bringing all 
 their animals through the winter. About 
 their own food supply they felt no uneasi- 
 ness. Pete said he could alone bring in 
 enough game to feed a whole company. 
 
 As far as the danger of Indian attack was 
 concerned it seemed entirely reasonable to 
 expect that in a broken country of 7,000 
 square miles a party of only four men might 
 escape detection altogether. 
 
 " I have fooled them on many a scouting 
 trip," Pete argued, " and I believe we could 
 do it again. For a small party to vanish 
 away, there is no better country than the 
 Bad Lands on the lower Little Missouri." 
 
 If the worst happened and they were dis- 
 covered and attacked, they would be able to 
 give a good account of themselves. 
 
 " Give me a good camp, well built and 
 well placed, and it will take a big bunch of 
 Sioux to prod us out," Pete felt confident. 
 " Our breech-loaders and Colt's would send 
 them more bad medicine than they would 
 care to swallow." 
 
248 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 So it was decided to find a good place and 
 stay in the Bad Lands of the Little Missouri 
 all winter. 
 
 " It is the only safe thing," Joe explained. 
 "After the new grass is out, we can travel 
 day or night without fear of wearing out our 
 horses; and if we get hard pressed we can 
 abandon everything except the horses we 
 ride and our guns and ammunition. Let us 
 make a winter camp of it, boys. We don't 
 care when we get to Bozeman, as long as we 
 all get there with our hair on. We'll have a 
 bully time hunting and scouting, sleeping 
 and spinning yarns, and you fellows will 
 have time to learn the Bible and Lewis and 
 Clark by heart. 
 
 " Here is ' how ' for our winter camp in 
 the Bad Lands!" 
 
 For several days the weather turned blus- 
 tery, with high winds and light snowfalls. 
 "Great weather for us!" exclaimed Joe. 
 " It will keep the young rascals of Sitting 
 Bull in camp gambling and feasting and 
 love-making, and when they do come out, 
 they will discover no signs of our trail. I 
 
THE MOUNTAIN ON FIKE 249 
 
 should like to see their puzzled faces when 
 the}^ find our old camp-fires! They will 
 know at once that white men have been there, 
 and they will have big talks trying to figure 
 out where the white men came from and 
 where they went." 
 
 Two days they allowed their horses to rest, 
 then they broke camp to look for a better 
 and safer place farther down the Little Mis- 
 souri, going northward from the present 
 town of Medora. 
 
 Of the two lost horses they had discovered 
 no trace, so the number of their animals was 
 reduced to six, which were all in fair condi- 
 tion in spite of the cold weather and scant 
 fare. 
 
 They travelled in the sheltered valley, 
 crossing the winding river many times. The 
 scenery became even more rugged than it 
 was near their temporary camp. The first 
 day they rode along leisurely without trying 
 to find a permanent camp. In the middle of 
 the afternoon they stopped for the night. 
 
 When supper had been eaten and the 
 horses were all safely picketed, they sat for 
 
250 THE THKEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 an hour around a big red camp-fire fed by 
 dry Cottonwood logs, for they had seen no 
 signs of Indians and both Joe and Pete felt 
 that there was no need of concealing their 
 presence. 
 
 On the second day they came to the mouth 
 of a creek now known as Beaver Creek, 
 which, through a deep valley, enters the Lit- 
 tle Missouri from the west. This side valley 
 looked like a good hiding-place to Pete and 
 Joe and they ascended it for a few miles and 
 made camp near a burning coal-bed. 
 
 They set up their tepee, so they would 
 have time to build their fort at leisure. 
 
 In the morning Joe and Pete selected a 
 site only a few rods from the place where 
 the lignite was slowly smoldering under- 
 ground, emitting smoke and steam from 
 wide cracks in the clay rock above. 
 
 It seemed to the boys a strange and un- 
 canny place for a camp. 
 
 " Won't the fire run along and drive us 
 out? " asked the lads. 
 
 " No danger of that," Pete assured them. 
 " These underground fires do not run like 
 
THE MOUNTAIN ON FIRE 251 
 
 prairie fires ; they burn very, very slowly. I 
 think it has probably taken more than ten 
 years for this one acre of ground to burn 
 over." 
 
 "Ten 3^ears?" exclaimed Don, much as- 
 tonished. " How long did it take to bum 
 and bake all those great layers of red clay 
 which Joe says were made by the burning of 
 great coal-beds? " 
 
 " How long that took? " Joe repeated 
 Don's question. " Nobody knows; probably 
 many thousand years. The Indians have no 
 tradition of the burning of the great beds 
 that have disappeared between this place 
 and Sentinel Butte, Bullion Butte and other 
 large and high buttes. The Indians believe 
 that the Bad Lands have always been as they 
 are now, but geologists say that the country 
 was once very different. About a thousand 
 feet of rock has been washed away between 
 the great buttes, and thousands of square 
 miles of coal have been burnt." 
 
 Don Avas silent for a minute. 
 
 " Was the whole country," he asked then, 
 " at one time as high as the big buttes? " 
 
252 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 " That is what it was," Joe explained. 
 " It was a great rolling prairie like the coun- 
 try around Fort Totten." 
 
 " What became of the missing land and 
 the great laj^ers of rock and clay? " 
 
 " The rains and creeks washed them into 
 the big Missouri and at last into the sea." 
 
 " Why don't they wash away the buttes 
 nowf 
 
 " They are washing them away," Joe 
 claimed. "A little of them every spring and 
 with every shower. All the fine mud in the 
 creeks and rivers from the buttes and the 
 cliffs is on its way to the sea, and some of it 
 is being dropped in the Gulf of Mexico 
 every day." 
 
 " Here, you fellows," Pete called out, 
 " come and lend a hand! Joe, you can set 
 up school when our fort is done. I want a 
 lot of bricks now and some mortar. We are 
 going to build a brick camp, one that can't 
 burn up when the fire reaches us. 
 
 " Joe, you had better bring me a lot of 
 those red rocks, or any kind of rock, and you 
 boys bring some clay and mud." 
 
THE MOUisTALN ON FIKE 253 
 
 " We have nothing to carry it in," said 
 Hank, looking around helplessly. 
 
 " Get to work! " Pete called impatiently. 
 " Use a piece of canvas and take hold of the 
 corners. It is going to be a warm day. 
 AVhen it blows we can't work. We want to 
 get this done before old Sitting Bull comes 
 to pay us a friendly call. Get to work, all 
 three of you! " 
 
 In the evening a good part of the wall 
 was up. 
 
 " That is a rough-looking house we are 
 building," exclaimed Don. " The walls 
 look just like a piece of cliff." 
 
 " That is the way we want them to look," 
 Pete agreed, laughing. " We are not build- 
 ing for show." 
 
 The boys soon entered into the fun of 
 building a real fort. For several days they 
 carried rocks, clay and mud, or w^hatever 
 Pete called for. The mud was hard to get. 
 They had to chop away the ice first and then 
 dig out the mud from the bottom of the 
 creek. 
 
 Pete worked like one who had built shacks 
 
254 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 and dugouts before; and the boys admitted 
 that he made a good job of it. He even 
 built a rough fireplace with a chimney above 
 it. 
 
 " Now we will try the draft," he said. 
 " If our fireplace smokes you will have to 
 bring me some more rocks for the chimney. 
 I learned this game from a fellow soldier, 
 who was a bricklayer before he enlisted. He 
 and I built fireplaces at Fort Buford and 
 Fort Phil Kearney. He was killed with 
 Fetterman." 
 
 The chimney worked so well that the four 
 builders cooked their supper at the fireplace. 
 Before it grew dark Joe brought some Cot- 
 tonwood stumps, and Pete told stories of 
 Fort Phil Kearney, while the hot red fire 
 baked the clay and mud in the chimney, and 
 when the stumps were burnt up the campers 
 sought their beds in the tepee. 
 
 The next problem was to provide their 
 fort with a roof and a door; and the boys 
 marvelled again at the resourcefulness of the 
 two old soldiers. 
 
 From a projecting layer of slanting hard 
 
THE MOUNTAIN ON FIRE 255 
 
 rock in the cliff they laid slanting poles to 
 the wall of the cabin. The poles they cov- 
 ered with a layer of willow brush, and over 
 the brush they stretched the two deer hides 
 they had brought along and a piece of old 
 canvas. Then they covered the whole with 
 earth and sod, which they brought from a 
 warm south-facing hillside. 
 
 "In a few days," chuckled Pete, "we 
 shall move into our house! This tepee life 
 is all right for an Injun, but it warn't ever 
 meant for a white man." 
 
 No boys ever enjoyed more the building 
 of their shacks, — and what strange shacks 
 boys do build! — than these boys and men en- 
 joyed building their winter fort in the Bad 
 Lands, and no wild animal ever hid his den 
 more effectively. 
 
 "A pretty good job you made of it," Joe 
 granted as the four sat and looked at their 
 fort from a few hundred yards away, " but 
 the chimney will give us away." 
 
 "I'U fix that," declared Pete. "You 
 three run and bring me some more rocks, the 
 roughest ones you can find." 
 
256 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 When Pete had finished pilmg those 
 around the chhnney top, both Joe and the 
 boys had to admit that the shack and its roof 
 looked so much like a natural part of the 
 cliff that no one could tell it was a campers' 
 shack or fort till he came right up to it. 
 
 For the door, Pete resorted to the device 
 of the Indians by fastening a tanned buffalo 
 skin in such a way that it neatly closed the 
 entrance. This door was partly hidden 
 from view by a gnarly red cedar, against the 
 trunk of which they piled a few rocks to 
 make the concealment complete. 
 
 " You forgot to put in a Avindow," Hank 
 teased the builder, '' and the smoke from the 
 chimney will give us away." 
 
 " You go and camp in the snow if you 
 don't like my shack," Pete replied curtly. 
 " We don't need a window. The open door 
 or the fire will give us plenty of light. 
 
 " Come down with me to the creek and I'll 
 show you something about the smoke. 
 
 " There," Pete pointed out when the four 
 campers had reached the creek, " none of 
 you could tell, if you didn't know it, that oiu' 
 
THE MOUNTAIN ON FIBE 257 
 
 chimney smoke does not come out of the 
 burning cliff. I fixed the top so that the 
 smoke sort of has to spread out." 
 
 Joe and the boys had to admit that the ap- 
 pearance of the whole fort was most decep- 
 tive. 
 
 '^I don't believe," said Pete, " any Indians 
 would go near this burning coal-bed; they 
 are too superstitious about everything un- 
 usual." 
 
 The horses found in the sheltered valley of 
 the creek a good winter pasture; and for 
 emergencies, quite a supply of cottonwoods 
 was available. 
 
 One or two of the party went every day 
 to look at the horses, but the animals were 
 doing well and showed no inclination to leave 
 the little sheltered valley. 
 
 When everything in Pete's shack was 
 ready, the campers took down their tepee 
 and cached their supplies under some canvas 
 and buffalo skins behind their fort. 
 
 A fort indeed they had built. Pete had 
 not forgotten to put in a number of port- 
 holes, closed now with pieces of buckskin. 
 
258 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 which, however, could be pulled out in a 
 second. 
 
 Wood for the fireplace was fairly abun- 
 dant, both Cottonwood and red cedar, but 
 their main supply for keeping their den 
 warm was the lignite, which the boys simply 
 had to pick up and carry inside. 
 
 Two raised sleeping-places, one for the 
 bovs and one for the men, was all the inside 
 " fixings " Pete put in. The bunks, as the 
 boys called them, also served as seats, and a 
 neatly tanned buckskin spread on the ground 
 served as table and table-cloth. 
 
 Cactus Pete uttered a grunt of satisfac- 
 tion when he stretched himself on the com- 
 fortable bunk after supper the first evening. 
 
 " The best bed I ever lay on; beats them 
 mattress beds in the big Planters Hotel in 
 St. Louis," he vowed. " The Planters is 
 sure a fine place, but I'll be dinged if I 
 wouldn't rather camp here in our den in 
 these here Bad Lands. Old St. Louis and 
 Boston beat us on fixings, but they can't 
 touch us on scenery. These Bad Lands are 
 sure a bewitched-looking country." 
 
THE MOUNTAIN ON FIEE 259 
 
 " Not bewitched," Joe corrected him, 
 " * enchanted ' is the word." 
 
 " Wall, bewitched or enchanted, it's sure 
 a strange country," Pete continued. 
 " Looks to me as if Old Harry tried to bust 
 up the hull earth for the Lord and come 
 well-nigh doing it." 
 
 " Pete, you have lived too long with the 
 Indians," Joe bantered him. " Old Harry 
 had nothing to do with making these En- 
 chanted Lands. The Lord carved them out 
 Himself with rains and streams." 
 
 "Did He light the coal-beds, too?" 
 queried Pete skeptically. " It looks to me 
 as if Old Harry tried pretty hard to stake 
 out a claim here. 
 
 "Wall, I suppose these college fellows 
 know what they are talking about, but how 
 are coal-beds set on fire? " 
 
 " By lightning, by man, and by sponta- 
 neous combustion." 
 
 " Spontaneous what? " 
 
 " Spontaneous combustion. They just 
 begin to burn of themselves, that's what it 
 means." 
 
260 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 " Joe, you are a bigger liar than I ever 
 hope to be. Thar ain't no such thing. You 
 needn't try to fool an old man with your 
 book learning." 
 
 " Yes, there is, Pete," Hank ventured to 
 come in. " When Uncle Reuben's machine- 
 shop caught fire, the insurance men said it 
 was a case of spontaneous combustion. A 
 careless workman had thrown a pile of oiled 
 rags and wipings into a corner and they had 
 started to burn of their own accord." 
 
 " I don't believe a word of it," Pete pro- 
 tested. " You fellows are trying to get even 
 with me. 
 
 " Wall, I reckon I can hold my own when 
 it comes to telling stories, but if any man 
 ever starts to hum a reveille in this fort, I 
 shall give him a dose of spontaneous tum- 
 bling down the bank. These blarney rev- 
 eilles have haunted me for fourteen years 
 and I am going to make up lost sleep in this 
 camp." 
 
 That first night, however, Pete did not 
 make up much sleep. He had just finished 
 a story about Fort Phil Kearney, when there 
 
THE MOUNTAIN ON FIRE 261 
 
 was a dull crash and a cannon-like explosion 
 outside. At the same time a violent tremor 
 went through the cliff, and the rock cabin 
 was shaken so violently that some of Pete's 
 mortar fell out of the joints. 
 
 " Indians! " called Don, jumping up from 
 his bunk. 
 
 "Don, you're plumb foolish!" Hank 
 cried. " Indians can't make the rocks trem- 
 ble. It's an earthquake." 
 
 " The mountain is on fire, the moimtain is 
 burning up!" the lads called, when they 
 rushed out through the skin door. 
 
 The mountain was indeed on fire. Where, 
 thus far, only smoke and steam had issued, 
 blue and red flames flickered out of a long 
 crevice, which had just formed in the bed of 
 clay overlying the burning coal-bed. 
 
 " There is your earthquake," Joe pointed 
 out as the four astonished campers stood 
 within a few feet of the weird flickering 
 flames. "A large piece of burnt clay rock 
 has just caved in, because the lignite had 
 burnt out from under it. Heated gases 
 caused the explosion, and now they are 
 
262 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 burning as they come out of the new 
 crevice." 
 
 " The all-firedest strange thing I ever 
 saw! " exclaimed Pete. " It's Old Harry's 
 work, I say." 
 
 But the boys caught Joe's explanation. 
 " It's a kind of Bad Lands gas-works," re- 
 marked Hank. " We once visited the Bos- 
 ton Gas-Works where they make gas by 
 roasting soft coal in long ovens." 
 
 In an hour the blue and red flames died 
 away and the campers returned to their 
 cabin. 
 
 " Wall, you needn't call me, boys," re- 
 marked Pete as he stretched himself under 
 the blankets, " unless old Sitting Bull him- 
 self wants to see me. This stone-mason's 
 job is pretty hard work for an old soldier." 
 
CHAPTER XXy 
 
 DANGEROUS NEIGHBORS 
 
 The den, that was the name finally ap- 
 plied to Pete's camp, answered every expec- 
 tation. 
 
 It blended so perfectly with the natural 
 layers of rock, clay, and lignite that it looked 
 to the boys like a big swallow's nest stuck to 
 the cliff. It was roomy, and, best of all, 
 when the blizzards roared across the Bad 
 Lands and the temperature fell to forty be- 
 low zero, it was a warm and cozy den, and 
 the blankets did not become covered with 
 powdered snow. 
 
 The absence of a window the campers felt 
 
 only on those days when it was too stormy or 
 
 too cold to be outside. In fair weather the 
 
 horses had to be looked after, game had to be 
 
 found and packed to camp; and at all times, 
 
 the campers spent as much time sleeping as 
 
 nature would permit. 
 
 263 
 
264 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 But even on cold and stormy days Joe and 
 Pete overcame the lack of windows and 
 candles. They always kept on hand a sup- 
 ply of split cedar, which burnt with a bright 
 flame, so that the boys lay for hours on their 
 buffalo robes in front of the fireplace read- 
 ing the great story of Lewis and Clark and 
 those stories in the Good Book which appeal 
 most to young people and of which boys and 
 girls nowadays have altogether too little 
 knowledge. 
 
 " The journey of the Israelites through 
 the desert must have been a good deal like a 
 journey through the Bad Lands," observed 
 Joe. 
 
 " Yes, like going through the sage-brush 
 country," added Pete, " only worse. You 
 never find any reference to boys fishing or 
 even to crossing rivers. So I reckon that 
 country is a real desert, all right, with no 
 game and almost no water." 
 
 Lewis and Clark's journal gave rise to 
 endless discussions. Pete had seen and 
 camped on many of the spots mentioned in 
 the famous diary. 
 
DA:NGEE0US KEIGHBORS 2G5 
 
 There had not been very much change in 
 the sixty years elapsed since the time of the 
 two great explorers, but Pete and Joe 
 a^eed that the end of the old days was at 
 hand. 
 
 " Something has got to happen in the 
 Sioux country this next summer," asserted 
 Joe. " White people either have to keep 
 out of the country between the Platte and 
 the Yellowstone, or the Sioux will all have 
 to move on reservations and travel the * white 
 man's road.' If white men are allowed in 
 the Indian country the buffaloes will be 
 killed off, and that will mean the end of 
 the 'red man's road'; for the wild life 
 of the Plains Indians is impossible with- 
 out the buffalo. And mark my words, 
 the Sioux are going to put up a desperate 
 fight to keep travelling the 'red man's 
 road.' " 
 
 " Right you are," assented Pete. " Cus- 
 ter will have his hands full with the Sioux. 
 He will never catch Sitting Bull and Crazy 
 Horse the way he caught Black Kettle ; and 
 white soldiers can no more make a winter 
 
266 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 camj)aign in this northern country than In- 
 dians can do it. 
 
 " I wish we knew what has happened since 
 we left Fort Totten." 
 
 Although the campers now thought them- 
 selves quite safe from Indians, they did not 
 neglect precaution. They never entered the 
 valley of the Little Missouri directly from 
 the bottom of their own creek, but always by 
 a detour to west and north ; and in the direc- 
 tion from which they had come, they never 
 hunted at all. 
 
 Joe and Pete had learned in the army that 
 men must be kept busy to be content, and 
 they kept their two boys busy with hunting, 
 tending the ponies, cutting wood, and other 
 camp duties. 
 
 It was, of course, necessary to be ex- 
 tremely saving with ammunition, because 
 their journey was to last so much longer 
 than they had at first planned. No man 
 was allowed to fire at small game, and Joe 
 would not permit the lads to hunt deer and 
 wild sheep with bows and arrows. 
 
 " You boys could not kill the animal with 
 
DANGEROUS ISIEIGHBORS 267 
 
 an arrow," he said, " and it would be cruelty 
 to allow a wounded animal to escape." 
 
 The boys, however, became quite skilful 
 in using their Indian weapons on jack-rab- 
 bits and sage-hens, and this small game 
 added a welcome variety to the larder of the 
 camp. 
 
 Almost before the campers realized it, 
 Christmas and New Year had passed, and 
 the short days grew a little longer, although 
 the weather continued to grow colder, so that 
 Joe and his boys appreciated fully Pete's 
 good work of building a comfortable den. 
 
 The horses fared remarkably well, because 
 the narrow valley with considerable tree 
 growth afforded them not only good feeding, 
 but good shelter at all times. 
 
 When the lads saw how well the horses 
 did, they regretted that they had not started 
 for Bozeman in December. " We could all 
 have been with Father for Christmas," they 
 suggested. 
 
 " Yes, we might," Pete admitted. " But 
 most likely we would have hobbled around 
 on crutches with our feet frozen. Believe 
 
268 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 me, lads, an old soldier knows what it means 
 to have hands and feet frozen. A man is 
 foolish to make a long journey across the 
 plains in winter, if he does not have to," 
 
 When, a few days later, another snow- 
 storm passed over the country, and the 
 weather grew so bad that for two days no- 
 body could go to look after the horses, the 
 boys were glad they were not travelling or 
 camping in the open. 
 
 By the first of April the snow had disap- 
 peared, except in places where the sun did 
 not strike it, and now Joe and Pete looked 
 every day for signs of Indians, and they did 
 not have to look many days before they dis- 
 covered what they did not wish to discover. 
 
 A few miles up the valley of the Little 
 Missouri they saw the smoke of a camp-fire, 
 and the very next day a party of seven 
 young Indian hunters made their camp near 
 the mouth of the creek. 
 
 Joe and Pete felt sure that these Sioux 
 had found, at least, two of the camps of the 
 white men. Would they pass farther down 
 the valley of Wakpa-sheeka? Would they 
 
DANGEROUS KEIGHBORS 269 
 
 look for the white men iii the canyon of the 
 creek, or would they soon return to their 
 main camp? 
 
 The two men discussed these questions 
 with much anxiety. If the Sioux hunted 
 farther down the valley, they would have to 
 return the same way, because the walls of the 
 valley below the mouth of Beaver Creek are 
 so high and steep that there are only verj^ 
 few places where a man on horseback can 
 reach the plain above. 
 
 The four whites felt as if they were held 
 in a state of siege. They did not dare to go 
 hunting, for if they were seen or heard, the 
 Indians would be upon them. 
 
 " What do you say, Joe," asked Pete, " if 
 we crawled up on them and blew them all 
 into Kingdom Come? They wouldn't have 
 shown us any mercy if they had seen us 
 first." 
 
 But Joe would not listen to any such plan. 
 
 " They have a right," he held, " to hunt in 
 their own country. It would be plain mur- 
 der if we attacked them. If thev attack us, 
 we have a right to defend ourselves." 
 
270 THE THREAT OF SITTI:NG BULL 
 
 "Wall, all right, Joe/' growled Pete. 
 " If you had been with us at Fort Phil Kear- 
 ney, you would not be quite so squeamish. 
 Perhaps we had better go and smoke the 
 peace pipe with them. I wager they would 
 also like to trade ponies with us." 
 
 " I'll smoke my own peace pipe right here 
 in this den," retorted Joe. " You can go 
 and see if any of your friends from Fort 
 Phil Kearney are in their camp." 
 
 But the next day the Indians made a move 
 which put an end to Pete's and Joe's debate. 
 The Sioux hunters came up the creek and 
 sat down as if for a council, in plain sight, 
 and almost within rifle range of the stone 
 fort. 
 
 Fortunately neither the campers nor their 
 horses had ever gone down the creek since 
 the camp had been built, and Pete had in- 
 sisted that no clothing, or anything else that 
 might betray their presence, was ever left 
 outside the rock den. 
 
 " Get your guns ready and pull the rags 
 out of the loopholes!" ordered Joe. "If 
 they discover us and make an attack, we 
 
DANGEROUS NEIGHBORS 271 
 
 have to go after them hard. And we can't 
 let them pass our fort up the canyon ; for if 
 we do, they will surely steal every one of our 
 horses." 
 
 " Right you are, Joe," Pete seconded his 
 friend. " If they discover us, or try to pass 
 our fort, not one of them must ever return to 
 Sitting Bull's camp." 
 
 The Indians were apparently also having 
 a heated discussion. One man pointed up 
 the canyon several times. 
 
 " He is telling them that the white men 
 have gone that way," Don declared with a 
 tremor in his voice. 
 
 " Hank, keep that coal fire going," ad- 
 monished Pete. " If our smoke changes too 
 much, my ruse might fail to work." 
 
 " If thev were white men," Joe felt sure, 
 " they would come up to warm themselves 
 at the burning coal-bed or at least to take a 
 look at it. I am right glad that Indians are 
 superstitious." 
 
 Now the Indians arose and came toward 
 the creek. Now they stopped and looked at 
 the sm.oldering coal-bed and at the smoke 
 
272 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 rising out of Pete's concealed chimney. The 
 man, who seemed to be the leader, now 
 seemed to point directly at the fort. 
 
 The four white campers held their breath 
 and each man seized his rifle. 
 
 "By Jove, they're coming!" whispered 
 Pete and placed the muzzle of his rifle in a 
 loophole and took careful aim at the leader. 
 " Each one of you cover your man," he 
 added. 
 
 "Wait, Pete, don't fire!" pleaded Joe; 
 but he and the boys each covered an Indian. 
 " Look," continued Joe, " three of them are 
 mere boys, not more than fourteen years old. 
 Don't fire at them ! " 
 
 " Hang 'em all," whispered Pete angrily. 
 " Them Indian boys and the squaws are the 
 worst devils when it comes to torturing cap- 
 tives to death. They are all brutes. If 
 they approach another rod, down they come ! 
 All of them!" 
 
 Again the Indians stopped and looked for 
 a minute up the canyon and directly at the 
 fort, then they turned and walked slowly 
 down the creek. 
 
DANGEROUS NEIGHBORS 273 
 
 " Thank Heaven," murmured Joe, " I 
 believe they are going." 
 
 " Hang the red rascals ! " muttered Pete. 
 " I am afraid they think they have smelled 
 white men." And he crawled carefully out 
 of the den like a wolf and peered down the 
 creek from behind the roots and rocks at the 
 foot of the old cedar. 
 
 In a little while he came back. " Blazed 
 I am! " he growled, " they are going! But 
 I don't trust them. These red heathen 
 are pretty foxy. But I can't stand it 
 much longer. If they don't get out of here 
 pretty soon we shall have to blow their 
 heads off. They are too dangerous as neigh- 
 bors." 
 
 That evening there was no laughter and 
 no loud talking in the white men's den. The 
 boys were asked to keep the fire going, but 
 Pete hung a buffalo robe in front of the fire- 
 place so that no ray of light would be visible 
 outside. 
 
 After dark Pete put on his cap and moc- 
 casins, took his rifle and cartridge belt and 
 slipped out of the den. 
 
274 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 " Pete, you aren't going to do anything 
 heathenish? " asked Joe. 
 
 " I am just going to do a little quiet scout- 
 ing on my friends," Pete answered with a 
 grin. " Don't lock me out. I shall be back 
 at bedtime." 
 
 In two hours Pete returned. His face 
 looked dark and there was a gleam in his 
 gray eyes. 
 
 " The whole gang is sitting around a 
 camp-fire," he reported. " If you fellows 
 had been with me, we could have picked off 
 every man of them. It was the best chance 
 I ever had at any Indians. They think 
 they are safe, but they have their horses 
 picketed near the tepee. How my fin- 
 gers itched to even up our Fort Kearney 
 score ! " 
 
 " Pete, you stay in the den after this," 
 said Joe. " I wish we had left you at Fort 
 Totten." 
 
 For a short time Pete was silent and 
 seemed to be lost in deep thought. 
 
 " I'll tell you something," he began then. 
 " This is getting to be a terribly dangerous 
 
It was the best chance I ever had at ant Indians." 
 Page 274. 
 
DANGEROUS NEIGHBORS 275 
 
 camp. That bunch has been here a week, 
 and it is only a question of time when they 
 will stumble on to our den, or our horses. 
 We can't move while they are here, so they 
 will have to move. I'll give them one more 
 day to get out. If they don't, they are dead 
 Indians! That's my plan. 
 
 " Joe, if you had been with us in the 
 wagon-boxes, or had seen the bodies of Fet- 
 terman's troop, you wouldn't be quite so 
 squeamish. I swear, if they had caught us, 
 the way I had them, thar wouldn't be a soul 
 of us alive! 
 
 " Every man sleeps with his boots on to- 
 night, and this old boy is going to do a little 
 guard duty." 
 
 The boys wanted to know why Indians 
 never made attacks at night. 
 
 "Another case of superstition," explained 
 Pete. " They think if a man is killed in the 
 dark he has to live in the dark in the other 
 world. 
 
 " They will sneak into a camp and steal 
 horses, but they will not fight in the dark, 
 unless they are cornered. And lucky it is 
 
276 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 for soldiers and white men that they have 
 this superstition." 
 
 Don decided that he would also stay 
 awake, but toward midnight he dropped off 
 in spite of his efforts. 
 
 The night was mild and Pete, wrapped in 
 his buffalo robe, spent the greater part of it 
 crouching behind the old cedar in front of 
 the den. 
 
 " If any Indian comes crawling around 
 here, I'll know it," he declared. 
 
 At daylight he took his rifle and pistols 
 and scouted carefully down the creek. 
 
 When he returned he was rather noisy. 
 
 " Get up, you rock-rats! " he called. " If 
 you want to bid our beloved neighbors good- 
 bye, you have to hurry. They are packing 
 up. And it's mighty lucky for them that 
 they are going!" 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 THE MESSENGERS 
 
 An hour later the Sioux camp was de- 
 serted, only the tepee-poles being left stand- 
 ing. 
 
 " Seven men in one tepee," said Hank; 
 " must have made pretty crowded quarters." 
 
 " Not for Indians," explained Pete. 
 *' They seem to like being crowded, espe- 
 cially in winter. The Plains Indians seldom 
 sleep in the open. Even in summer they 
 build some kind of shelter, and a dozen men 
 will crowd into a brush wickiup that would 
 be too small for half that many white men." 
 
 The lads understood now why Joe and 
 
 Pete had never gone do^vn the creek from 
 
 their fort. If they had done so the Indians 
 
 would have found the trail to the fort at 
 
 once. As it was they had been outwitted by 
 
 a very simple precaution. Both Joe and 
 
 277 
 
278 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 Pete had no doubt that the Sioux had come 
 down the valley in search of the white men, 
 whose camp-sites they had discovered. 
 V " Let us follow them now and give them a 
 good scare," suggested Don. " They had 
 us scared for a week." 
 
 " Joe," asked Pete, " what do you think of 
 it? Let us sneak up on them and steal their 
 ponies and make them foot it back to Sitting 
 Bull's camp. The Sioux owe me for a horse 
 and a good mule, which they stole at Fort 
 Phil Kearney, and this is the first chance I 
 have had to even up the score." 
 
 " Pete," Joe replied, " you are the worst 
 kid in camp. Are you getting so lonesome 
 that you want to set a bunch of Sioux on 
 your own trail? We shall most likely see 
 enough Indians before we reach Bozeman. 
 Thank the Lord that these did not visit us." 
 
 " Let us follow them, anyhow," pleaded 
 the boys, whose love of adventure was stirred 
 at the sight of the camp and the pony trail. 
 " It would be fun to be really trailing In- 
 dians. We ought to learn more about In- 
 dians before we leave this fort. We will go 
 
THE IVIESSENGERS 279 
 
 and get the ponies. It's a fine day for trail- 
 ing." 
 
 But now Pete had recovered his plains- 
 man's caution. " No, boys," he warned the 
 impetuous lads, " don't be in a hurry. If 
 we start right a^vay their rear scouts might 
 see us, and we should spoil the whole winter's 
 game. We don't really want to see them 
 again, and Joe is right, we sure don't want 
 them to see us, but I should like to know why 
 they came so far down the river? " 
 
 " But how can you find out without ask- 
 ing them? " Don wondered. 
 
 " Well, if I'm as good a scout as I used to 
 be, I think I could find out," asserted Pete. 
 " If Joe is willing, we shall just stay in camp 
 to-day, cut wood, carry in a lot of coal, and 
 to-morrow we do a little trailing. Let them 
 get a good start so we don't have to worry 
 about running into them." 
 
 Joe was willing, and the next morning 
 two happy boys once more jumped into the 
 saddle and with their two friends took up 
 the trail. 
 
 " Now, boys," Joe told them, " we are out 
 
280 THE THKEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 for a lark, but we may get into serious trouble 
 if we are not careful. There is to be no shoot- 
 ing and shouting and no loud talk. A good 
 scout is never careless. You stay right with 
 us, unless we ask you to ride ahead. Take 
 the lead now and see that you don't lose the 
 trail, and don't you let the Indians see you 
 first." 
 
 The boys found fheir task much more diffi- 
 cult than they had anticipated. The In- 
 dians, it seemed, had always picked out the 
 hardest ground, and had generally followed 
 the meanderings of the river, but in several 
 places they had crossed the river. 
 
 Wherever the trail turned a cliff, Joe 
 asked one of the boys to dismount and scout 
 ahead on foot, and he made them approach 
 the mouth of every creek, every side canyon 
 and every patch of timber with great cau- 
 tion. 
 
 By noon they had made about ten miles 
 and halted in the pleasant shade of some cot- 
 tonwoods, still leafless, of course. 
 
 " Well, scouts," asked Joe, " what did you 
 learn about those Indians? " 
 
THE MESSENGERS 281 
 
 " They made an awfully crooked trail," 
 said Don. 
 
 " They rode at a walk," added Hank, 
 " and sometimes they stopped but they did 
 not dismount." 
 
 " Is that all you learned? " inquired Pete. 
 " Did they do any hunting? " 
 
 " No, they did not," Hank declared. 
 
 " Did they see any game? " asked Pete. 
 
 " Yes, they did," Don answered eagerly, 
 " They saw elk. There were fresh tracks in 
 one of the groves. I saw a bullet blaze on a 
 tree, and all the elk ran when they were 
 fired at." 
 
 " Is that all you know? " 
 
 " That is all we learned," both boys ad- 
 mitted. 
 
 " Then you are pretty poor scouts. 
 Didn't you learn what was in their 
 mind? " 
 
 " How can we tell what was in their 
 mind? " Don asked, thinking Pete was try- 
 ing to tease them. " We did not even see 
 them." 
 
 " Joe and I know," Pete claimed. 
 
282 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 " Then you spied them through the glass 
 and saw what they were doing." 
 
 " We didn't see them," asserted Pete, 
 " but we know what is in their mind. 
 
 " They traA^elled slowly, they stopped and 
 looked around. And didn't you notice that 
 they had examined every grove of trees, 
 every side canyon and the valley of every 
 creek? Why? They were looking for 
 something. Not for game, or they would 
 have followed the elk. For what? For 
 white men, for us. Those Indians came 
 down the Little Missouri looking for us, and 
 they are still looking for us. They missed 
 us by a hair. I was a little bit afraid their 
 leaving was a ruse to draw us out, but it 
 wasn't. We really fooled them by not 
 hunting and travelling on the Little Mis- 
 souri and by building that stone shack 
 against the cliff. But it was an all-fired 
 close call for us. They looked right at our 
 fort, but didn't see it. 
 
 " They are returning to their tribe, and 
 will tell a big story about a camp of white 
 men who disappeared in the Bad Lands. 
 
THE MESSENGERS 283 
 
 " I reckon we have learned enough. The 
 new grass is coming out, and if the weather 
 remains warm, we can start for the Yellow- 
 stone in a week. 
 
 " Look at the wild crocuses on that hill- 
 side! Boys, it's beginning to look and feel 
 like summer. 
 
 " I wonder what Custer and the soldiers 
 are doing. We have lived alone in that den 
 so long that we don't know which side of the 
 world is up. Do you believe that I was 
 sorel}^ tempted to have a talk with those In- 
 dians? Hanged if I wasn't, Joe. But I 
 was afraid the scoundrels would play us 
 dirt." 
 
 A week later the stone fort on Beaver 
 Creek was deserted, and four horsemen with 
 two extra packhorses were on their way to 
 the Yellowstone with nothing but Joe's map 
 and a compass to guide them. 
 
 " Why don't we go to Fort Buford near 
 the mouth of the Yellowstone," asked Hank, 
 " and find out what has happened? " 
 
 " To Fort Buford? " asked Joe thought- 
 fully. " Pete, what do you think of it? Do 
 
284 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 we want to take another chance on being de- 
 tained by some captain or colonel of the 
 army? It is also fifty miles out of our way." 
 
 " Not on your life," protested Pete. 
 " We have obeyed orders long enough. Let 
 us do our own commanding and strike out 
 for Bozeman as straight as Ave can. If we 
 get into another blooming fort, there is no 
 telling when we get out again." 
 
 After two days' travel they reached the 
 south bank of the Yellowstone, the largest 
 tributary of the Missouri. The Yellowstone 
 was running with a swift current but was 
 still low because the snow water from the 
 mountains had not yet reached the mouth of 
 the river. It was fortunate that the river 
 was still low, but even at low water the Yel- 
 lowstone cannot be forded. 
 
 " How are we going to get across? " asked 
 the boys as they all looked at the swift broad 
 current. 
 
 " It is awfully cold," said Don, holding his 
 hand in the water. 
 
 " Well, Pete, how are we going to do it? " 
 asked Joe. 
 
THE MESSENGERS 285 
 
 Pete suggested that they might try to 
 swim across if the water was not so cold. 
 Or they might make a bull-boat, but that 
 would mean killing a buffalo or big elk and 
 then waiting a few days till the green hide 
 could be shrunk over a frame of poles. But 
 elk and buffaloes had been driven out of this 
 part of the country by soldiers and Indians. 
 
 "Let us sleep over it," advised Pete. 
 " But we are now in dangerous country and 
 we must adopt the ways of the Indians and 
 not sleep near our evening camp-fire. After 
 dark let us move into the timber half a mile 
 do^vn the river and away from the bank." 
 
 In the morning, Joe and Pete decided to 
 make a raft, which they did by tying three 
 drift-logs together. This raft, however, 
 would float only two men and the baggage. 
 Joe and Hank started across while Pete and 
 Don drove the horses into the river and made 
 them swim over. 
 
 Then Hank watched the horses while Joe 
 crossed back and brought Pete and Don 
 over. Of course they could not cross the 
 river straight, and the last landing was 
 
286 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 almost a mile below their first starting 
 point. 
 
 " Gee! " exclaimed Don, " that was much 
 easier than I thought it would be. Soldiers 
 surely learn to do all kinds of difficult 
 things." 
 
 " Hurry up, boys," Pete called, " let us 
 get into the hills. Some Indian scouts 
 might see us puttering around here in the 
 open valley. I am glad we did not have to 
 cross the Missouri with its muddy banks and 
 bottom. You can land a horse almost any- 
 where on the gravelly banks of the Yellow- 
 stone. Untie the ropes from the raft, push 
 the logs into the current and let us move." 
 
 They were now on the north side of the 
 river and headed across the open sage-brush 
 valley for the bluffs. After they had gone 
 about three miles northwest, they turned 
 more west over fairly open rolling country. 
 
 After some time, they saw two horsemen 
 coming in the opposite direction whom Joe 
 through his glass made out to be soldiers. 
 
 " Hurrah, boys! " cried Pete, when he also 
 recognized the coming strangers as soldiers. 
 
THE JVIESSENGERS 287 
 
 " The United States uniform never looked 
 so good to me! " 
 
 But what was that? The soldiers had 
 turned their horses toward a wooded ravine. 
 
 " Pete, thev think we are Indians," called 
 Joe. " Quick, head them off and make 
 them stop ! " 
 
 Pete, who rode the fastest pony, soon was 
 in sight of them again. He swung his hat 
 in the air, threw off his coat and waved his 
 arms. 
 
 " Come back, you boneheads! Can't you 
 see we are white men? " he shouted. 
 
 The distance was still much too great for 
 Pete's voice to reach the soldiers, but they 
 had seen his signals and turned to approach 
 him. 
 
 " You fellows are great soldiers," old Pete 
 greeted them roughly. " What are you 
 running away for? Did you ever see a 
 bunch of Indians lead any packhorses? " 
 
 " You had better go easy, old man," spoke 
 one of the soldiers. " Where in blazes do 
 you come from? We know our business. 
 Only yesterday some blooming Sioux 
 
288 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 dressed in white men's clothes pretty near 
 got us. Take warning, old man, if you fel- 
 lows have to travel in this country, you had 
 better travel after dark. The country is 
 alive with Indians/' 
 
 By this time both Pete and the soldiers 
 were ready to laugh at their mistakes and 
 rough greeting. 
 
 " We were so durned glad to see you," 
 apologized Pete, " that it made me mad to 
 think how near you came giving us the slip." 
 
 The soldiers were carrying mail and dis- 
 patches from General Gibbon's command, 
 nearly a hundred miles southwest, opposite 
 the mouth of Tongue River, to Fort Buford, 
 fifty miles northeast. 
 
 " How are you fixed for ' chuck '? " asked 
 the soldiers. 
 
 "Lots of it," replied Pete. "If you 
 aren't in too big a hurry, camp a day with us 
 and tell us about the Indians and the sol- 
 diers. We were denned uj) in the Bad 
 Lands all winter, and don't know a blooming 
 thing." 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 INDIANS AND SOLDIERS 
 
 Sergeant Hart and Private Lester were 
 very glad to camp a day with Pete and 
 his friends. 
 
 Pete selected a safe place hidden among 
 the hills, the horses were unsaddled and 
 picketed and that was all there was to mak- 
 ing camp. The two soldiers carried no tent, 
 and the tepee was not needed in the warm 
 weather with no indication of rain. 
 
 Joe built a fire of the driest sticks the boys 
 could find, made a big kettleful of coffee, 
 fried a panful of bacon, set out the last of 
 the smoked goose-breast and even produced 
 a small bag of raisins, which he had kept 
 carefully concealed for a very special feast. 
 
 As soon as Joe had finished cooking he 
 
 put the fire out, for Indians have both sharp 
 
 eyes and keen noses for smoke. 
 
 The boys could hardly await the moment 
 
 289 
 
290 THE THKEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 when the soldiers were through eating. It 
 seemed as if they could eat almost as much 
 as an Indian. " Golly," remarked Don, as 
 the two boys went to free a horse who had 
 tangled hhnself in the rope, *' the big blond 
 Sergeant, I bet, could eat a whole guaca- 
 lote." 
 
 After dinner the men lay down behind 
 some rocks from which they could see the 
 horses and also keep a lookout for Indians. 
 
 " Believe me, men," Sergeant Hart be- 
 gan, " there will be some fighting this sum- 
 mer, if we can bring them to bay, and I think 
 this time we shall corner them somewhere. 
 
 " You see, our command from Fort Ellis, 
 near Bozeman, has been on the trail ever 
 since March, We have been patrolling the 
 Yellowstone. Our job was to keep them 
 from crossing to this side, the north side of 
 the river, and I think we did it. Of course, 
 you'll find a few roamers everywhere; T.ord 
 knows where they belong and where they 
 come from; but we kept the big camps south 
 of the Yellowstone, so they can't strike out 
 for Canada and get away." 
 
lOTDIANS AND SOLDIERS 291 
 
 " How large is General Gibbon's com- 
 mand? " asked Joe. 
 
 "About 450 men; and we have marched 
 about three hundred miles, since we left Fort 
 Ellis. We are to join Generals Terry and 
 Custer, who are coming from Fort Lincoln 
 with about 1,000 men, near the mouth of 
 Powder River. 
 
 " General Terry will be commander-in- 
 chief, but Custer will command his famous 
 Seventh Cavalry." 
 
 " Why doesn't Custer command the expe- 
 dition? " asked Joe. "He knows Indians 
 and he is a daring fighter." 
 
 " Maybe he is too daring," rejoined Hart. 
 "Anyhow, he is not in command. He got 
 into a row with Secretary of War Belknap, 
 and President Grant would not have let him 
 join his regiment at all if Sheridan and 
 Terry had not asked for him. I don't know 
 what it is all about. I am just telling you 
 what is being told in our camp." 
 
 " I was with Custer on the Washita," Joe 
 put in. "And Pete here was in Powell's 
 fight at Fort Phil Kearney." 
 
292 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 "The devil you say?" exclaimed Hari, 
 " and we thought you four were a bunch of 
 greenhorns after we got over our Indian 
 scare. 
 
 " Do you know that a good many officers 
 think that you were lucky in getting away 
 from the Washita alive? " 
 
 " I know it," admitted Joe. " Some of 
 us were pretty well scared when we learned 
 that Black Kettle's camp was only one of a 
 string of big camps of all the southern 
 Plains Indians. If they had attacked us on 
 our thirty-mile march to our supply-wagons, 
 none of us might have lived to tell about it. 
 I do not know what Custer thought of our 
 position, but I have always felt that we ran 
 a big bluff on those southern Indians." 
 
 "I'd be sorry for the officer and his 
 troops," Pete joined the talk, " who tried a 
 game of bluff on the Sioux. They have 
 been fighting ever since they were driven out 
 of Minnesota, and they will do some more 
 desperate fighting before they give up their 
 last buffalo country. 
 
 " We learned to know the Sioux at Fort 
 
IISTDIANS AISTD SOLDIEES 293 
 
 Phil Kearney. You cannot work a com- 
 plete surprise on a big Indian camp in sum- 
 mer, and unless you whip them and also 
 destroy their camp, they are not defeated." 
 
 The two soldiers replied that the men in 
 their command expected some hard fighting, 
 if they ever could get the Indians to make a 
 stand. 
 
 Sergeant Hart then explained the plan of 
 the campaign as far as he understood it. 
 
 Terry, Custer, and Gibbon were to oper- 
 ate from the north, with the Yellowstone as 
 a kind of base and northern line. A steam- 
 boat, the Far West, was to come up the Yel- 
 lowstone under government charter. This 
 boat would be under the orders of General 
 Terry, and would carry troops and provi- 
 sions, f errv men and horses across the river, 
 serve as headquarters for the General and 
 his staff; or, in case of emergency, serve as a 
 hospital for sick and wounded men. 
 
 Captain Grant Marsh, who knew the river 
 well and was also a bold and skilful pilot, 
 commanded her. She was about 200 feet 
 long, could carry 400 tons of freight and 
 
294 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 about thirty passengers, and when loaded 
 would draw about four feet of water. She 
 was a very manageable boat on a swift river 
 like the Yellowstone. In June, when all the 
 rivers heading in the mountains were high, 
 she might even be able to go up on the larger 
 tributaries on the south side of the Yellow- 
 stone, such as the Powder and the Big 
 Horn. 
 
 " Boys, that sounds plumb good to me," 
 commented Joe. " Custer knows the Yel- 
 lowstone country as far as the mouth of the 
 Big Horn. He was here in '73. If he is 
 half as lucky as he was on the Washita, he 
 ought to, before the summer is over, round 
 up all the big Sioux chiefs, Crazy Horse, 
 Gall, Two Moon, Sitting Bull, and all the 
 rest of them. But go on. Sergeant, tell us 
 more about the plan of the campaign. What 
 about Crook? " 
 
 " General Crook," the Sergeant con- 
 tinued, "is to press them from the south, 
 from Fort Fetterman, on the Platte. He 
 has a force of about 1,500 men." 
 
 Terry and Custer, the soldiers told, were 
 
INDIANS AND SOLDIERS 295 
 
 expected to march from Fort Lincoln about 
 this time; the middle of May. 
 
 "But where are the Indians?" Hank 
 asked. 
 
 " There's the rub," replied Private Lester. 
 " We don't know. Nobody seems to know, 
 except that they are somewhere between the 
 Platte and the Yellowstone, j)robably on the 
 Powder, the Tongue, the Rosebud, and the 
 Big Horn." 
 
 " Lester, you are forgetting that Crook 
 found the Indians," Sergeant Hart inter- 
 rupted. 
 
 " No, I'm coming to that," said the pri- 
 vate. " Crook surprised the camp of Crazy 
 Horse in March, during cold weather. He 
 burnt their camp, but it turned out that he 
 had found too mam^ Indians. They all got 
 away, and even recaptured their pony herd 
 and harassed the soldiers all the way back 
 to Fort Fetterman." 
 
 " That is bad news," Pete claimed. " The 
 Indians, I am sure, think they have beaten 
 Crook, and they will become bolder than 
 ever. 
 
296 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 "That's rotten bad news! Why didn't 
 Crook kill the ponies as Custer did? The 
 Sioux will never go on any reservation till 
 they have been whipped and whipped hard. 
 
 " Too bad that the winter was so severe 
 that nothing could be done. If the troops 
 were ready to strike now, they would stand 
 a much better chance, because the ponies 
 are still poor and weak. 
 
 " Believe me, boys, you are going to see 
 some fighting this summer. Sergeant, when 
 do you think Terry and Crook will be ready 
 to strike? " 
 
 " Not till the middle of June, maybe 
 later," replied Sergeant Hart. 
 
 Talking further with the soldiers, Joe 
 and Pete learned that Crook had about two 
 hundred Crow Indians with him, and that 
 Gibbon also had about twenty Crow scouts 
 and a number of Rees. 
 
 " The Crows are first-class scouts and 
 trailers," Joe admitted, "and also good 
 fighters. But the Rees are apt to run and 
 demoralize the soldiers if a troop find them- 
 selves in a tight place. Our Osage scouts 
 
INDIANS AND SOLDIERS 297 
 
 before the battle on the Washita had all 
 planned to leave us, if the fight went against 
 us." 
 
 The Crows, or Absarokas, as they called 
 themselves, were bitter enemies of the Sioux, 
 who had driven them out of their best hunt- 
 ing-grounds, the country of the Big Horn. 
 
 Both Hart and Lester knew the Crow 
 scouts in Gibbon's command, and did not re- 
 gard them highly as fighters. They were 
 very valuable allies because they knew the 
 countrv south of the Yellowstone, of which 
 none of the officers and soldiers had an in- 
 timate knowledge. 
 
 One story the two soldiers told was of 
 special interest to Joe and the boys because 
 it related to an experience with the Indians 
 on the part of a number of men from Boze- 
 man; and it showed clearly the temper of 
 the Sioux. 
 
 These men in the fall of '75 had started 
 to explore and prospect for gold in the val- 
 ley of the Big Horn, and to select a site for 
 a steamboat-landing, from which goods 
 could be hauled by wagon to Bozeman. 
 
298 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 They were at once beset by the Sioux and 
 had to build a rude fort, which they called 
 Fort Pease, after their leader. 
 
 Almost daily the Sioux fired into the 
 stockade, and by midwinter six of the men 
 had been killed and nine severely wounded, 
 leaving only twenty-five fit for work and 
 fighting. 
 
 The Sioux, on the other hand, seemed to 
 grow more numerous every day, and the be- 
 sieged men began to realize that, unless help 
 came, there could be only one end to Fort 
 Pease. 
 
 A brave man volunteered to travel to Fort 
 Ellis by night and bring help. After many 
 anxious weeks, when the holders of the fort 
 began to fear that their messenger had never 
 reached Fort Ellis, a troop of cavalry was 
 seen riding down the valley of the Yellow- 
 stone; and the worn-out defenders of Fort 
 Pease were relieved. 
 
 " Was Thomas Stamford one of the men 
 at Fort Pease?" asked Joe. "He is the 
 father of my boys here, and we have no news 
 from him since we left Fort Totten." 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 SHAEP EYES 
 
 The two soldiers did not know the names 
 of any of the men who had been in the Fort 
 Pease venture; but Pete and Joe realized 
 that this incident could only have angered 
 the Sioux and made them more confident in 
 their ability to hold their own against the 
 whites. 
 
 After supper, just before sunset, Pete 
 discovered three horsemen crossing a sage- 
 brush flat and going toward the river. 
 
 " They are Indians," Joe decided. *' I can 
 tell by the humped and limp way they sit 
 their horses. They have not seen us, and I 
 think they are going to cross the river after 
 dark." 
 
 The boys were eager to know where they 
 
 came from. 
 
 "Who can tell?" Pete remarked with 
 
 299 
 
300 THE THKEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 a gesture indicating anywhere, nowhere, 
 everywhere. " I have seen Indians jump 
 out of the ground, and I have sometimes 
 thought they had dropped out of the clouds. 
 These three men, I could see, were tired and 
 their horses were tired. They may have 
 come from Fort Peck, from Devil's Lake or 
 Manitoba. Or they may just have spent a 
 few days in the hills north of the river." 
 
 As soon as it was dark, the six men quietly 
 saddled their horses and rode back into the 
 hills for a mxile. The three Indians had just 
 reminded them of the dangerous character 
 of the country, if any of them had need of 
 such a reminder. Had the Indians come 
 half a mile farther north, they would cer- 
 tainly have discovered the horses of the 
 campers. 
 
 The stories which the men told in the dark, 
 while they were all sitting under some 
 scrubby trees, added to the sense of danger, 
 which had taken possession of the boys dur- 
 ing the day and evening, and for the first 
 time since they had left Fort Totten, they 
 awoke several times during the night, when- 
 
SHARP EYES 301 
 
 ever a horse snorted or a coyote uttered his 
 piercmg howl close to camp. 
 
 The days of happy security which they 
 had enjoyed in the Bad Lands were past, 
 and they realized that there was a long, dan- 
 gerous journey ahead of them. 
 
 At last the meadow-larks began to sing, 
 and the sun rose over the rough comitry east 
 of the Yellowstone, whose fringes of cotton- 
 woods and willows began to show the deli- 
 cate green of spring. 
 
 None of the men had taken their clothes 
 off for the night, and the soldiers said they 
 did not expect to undress till they were safe 
 inside the palisade of Fort Buford. 
 
 Before the soldiers left, they warned their 
 new friends to travel with extreme caution, 
 or they would never reach Bozeman. 
 
 " If travelling at night was not so slow 
 and tiring to both men and horses," urged 
 Sergeant Hart, " I would say you should 
 not travel at all during daylight." 
 
 Joe rode with the soldiers for a mile. " If 
 Pete and I were here alone, we should strike 
 out for Gibbon's camp and join in this cam- 
 
302 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 paign, but I cannot expose my boys to the 
 dangers of a regular Indian war. From 
 what I learned at Bismarck and Fort Tot- 
 ten, and from what you have told us, I fear 
 there is a big storm brewing. 
 
 " Good-bye, men! Perhaps we shall meet 
 again after it is all over. Take care of your- 
 selves. Good-bye." And Joe, absorbed in 
 thought, rode slowly back to his companions. 
 
 Pete was sitting alone at the camping 
 place, the boys having gone to water the 
 horses at a small stream. 
 
 "What do you say, Pete," he asked, 
 " should we go ahead with our plans, or had 
 we better strike out for Gibbon's camp and 
 take our chances with the soldiers? Things 
 look a little worse than I had expected." 
 
 " If we join the soldiers," Pete replied 
 after a little, "we can't leave them again; 
 for the Indians are always hanging around 
 the troops, trying to pick off some careless 
 straggler, to steal horses, and to watch the 
 movement of the troops. If we join them, 
 we have to stay with them through the cam- 
 paign. I should, for myself, like nothing 
 
SHARP EYES 303 
 
 better. If the Sioux get me, there is not 
 much lost. But it would not be the safest 
 way of taking the boys through, and that's 
 our job, Joe. Isn't it? 
 
 " Wall, then, I say we stick to our plan. 
 It seems to me we ought to feel our way 
 along cautiously in the divide region be- 
 tween the Yellowstone and the jNIissouri. 
 At this time of the year, water and grass 
 can be found everywhere. There are 
 patches of Bad Lands in that country, 
 where we can hide a day or two; and if we 
 have to, we can go by the owl road, at night. 
 That's the way it looks to me." 
 
 " All right, Pete," said Joe, " I agree. If 
 you will stay with the lads now, I shall do 
 a little scouting from the rise west of us." 
 
 In an hour Joe returned and reported that 
 he could see no sign of Indians in any direc- 
 tion, and it was decided to saddle up. 
 
 They made ten miles that day, but struck 
 one trail of Indians leadmg toward the river 
 and one leading away from it. There had 
 been four or five men in each party and 
 neither trail was more than a day old. 
 
304 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 In the afternoon they found a secluded 
 spot near Three Buttes and decided to re- 
 main there for the night, but they considered 
 the country too dangerous to build even a 
 small fire. 
 
 Joe climbed the highest of the buttes, and 
 spent an hour scouting in every direction, 
 but could discover no signs of any Indian 
 camp. 
 
 If there were any Sioux in the neighbor- 
 hood, and both Joe and Pete feared that 
 there were, they also had made camp without 
 building a fire; probably they were afraid 
 of straggling parties of Crows or Blackfeet. 
 
 One thing Joe and Pete did at this camp 
 to lessen the danger of being trailed. They 
 took the shoes off all their horses. 
 
 " We should have done that," said Pete, 
 " before we crossed the Yellowstone. Every 
 Indian that strikes a trail of shod horses 
 knows at once that it was made by white 
 men." 
 
 All the shoes and even the parings from 
 the hoofs of the ponies Pete buried carefully 
 in a dry run. 
 
SHARP EYES 305 
 
 " Why do you bury all that so carefully? " 
 asked Don. 
 
 *' Because," Pete explained, " if an Indian 
 discovered that we had trimmed the hoofs 
 of the ponies, he would know at once that 
 he was on the trail of white men. But now, 
 even if he does discover that the ponies came 
 into camp shod and left unshod, he might 
 think that some Indians had taken the shoes 
 off some stolen horses. Leave a few scraps 
 of dried buffalo meat at the camp-site, but 
 be sure not to leave any scraps of bacon." 
 
 Joe had been very careful not to expose 
 himself against the sky-line on top of the 
 butte. He had not once stood up erect, but 
 had done all his scouting in the Indian way, 
 by lying flat on his stomach. 
 
 He reported that about five miles to the 
 southwest, in the direction they were going, 
 there was a small lake, which would make a 
 fine camping-place. 
 
 " Yes, and a fine place for running into 
 Indians," Pete held. " That's the very place 
 where we are likely to find our friends of 
 the last trail. 
 
306 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 " Joe, we have to pass that lake at night. 
 I am glad you saw it, and you must lead 
 us well to the south or north of it. We might 
 as well get used to travelling with owls and 
 bats, although I dislike it very much. It is 
 slow work and very hard on both men and 
 horses, especially in a country where one is 
 not well acquainted." 
 
 When it was dark, the travellers started, 
 Joe taking the lead and setting his course 
 by some stars in the west and a small butte 
 in line with the lake. 
 
 " N"o talking, boys," Pete warned. " The 
 sage-brush may have ears." 
 
 Don and Hank had never thought that 
 travelling at night through a dangerous 
 country could be so uncanny. On the 
 plains out of Bismarck, they had not ex- 
 pected to meet Indians, but now they felt 
 as if a Sioux might rise out of any clump of 
 sage-brush or from behind any rock. Pete 
 need not have told them not to talk; they 
 were almost afraid to breathe. 
 
 Several times Joe stopped to look and 
 listen into the darkness ahead. 
 
SHARP EYES 307 
 
 " Don't swing too far west," Pete whis- 
 pered. " Those stars are moving." 
 
 "I am allowing for that," Joe replied. 
 " Do you hear a dog barking? I thought I 
 did." 
 
 Neither Pete nor the boys could hear any 
 sounds but those that came from coyotes 
 and gray wolves, and again the line moved 
 forward in silence. 
 
 It seemed to the lads that they had gone 
 twenty miles, when Joe halted again and 
 said that to the best of his knowledge they 
 had passed the lake and were now headed 
 up a small valley southwest of the lake. 
 " It is only about midnight," he concluded, 
 " and we might as well go on for a 
 while." 
 
 For about an hour they wound their way 
 slowly through patches of sage-brush and 
 over open ground. Then the valley grew 
 much narrower and seemed to turn directly 
 south. 
 
 " I think," Joe advised, " we had better 
 stop here till we can see where we are. 
 The country right ahead of us is too rough 
 
308 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 for night travel. Roll in, boys," he added, 
 " and go to sleep. Pete and I will watch 
 till daylight." 
 
 Hank soon fell asleep, but Don was so 
 wide awake that he soon arose and sat down 
 with the men. 
 
 " How do you know," he asked, " that 
 there aren't Indians camping right ahead of 
 us? I think I heard a noise there." 
 
 " Wall, son," Pete tried to quiet him, " we 
 don't exactly know it, but it is not a likely 
 camping-place. There is no water and no 
 wood. You had better roll in again and go 
 to sleep." 
 
 But Don's nerves had become unstrung by 
 the constant strain of his first experience in 
 night travel through a really dangerous 
 country. He was soon back and asked 
 rather timidly : 
 
 " May I sit with you? I can't sleep." 
 
 Pete and Joe had both been half asleep 
 and did not answer at once. 
 
 " Please, Joe, may I sit with you? " Don 
 repeated. 
 
 " Sure, son ! Sit right down on my 
 
SHARP EYES 309 
 
 blanket. You will have plenty of time to 
 sleep during the day." 
 
 " Joe, may I ask you something? " re- 
 quested Don. 
 
 " Sure, son, fire away," Pete answered, 
 not giving Joe time to reply. 
 
 " Aren't you and Joe the least bit afraid 
 and worried? I think I am too scared to 
 sleep." 
 
 " Wall, son," Pete began in his fatherly 
 drawl, " I reckon, when Joe and I was kids, 
 we would have been scared, too, in this here 
 nook in the hills. You'll get over that. You 
 ought to see some of the soldiers scared in 
 their first fight. 
 
 " But a soldier soon forgets to worry or 
 be scared. If Joe and I get through this 
 country, you and Hank will get through." 
 
 " Oh, I am not scared that way. Only I 
 can't sleep," repeated Don. " May I go 
 and punch Hank? Why should he sleep, 
 when the rest of us are awake? " 
 
 Pete and Joe laughed, but thought he 
 had better not awake Hank that way, for 
 Hank might let out a yell. 
 
310 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 " I wish I could punch him. He punched 
 me in the Bad Lands and yelled Indians, 
 too." 
 
 " You can punch him after he is awake," 
 said Pete, " but not just now." 
 
 " He is too big when he is awake," Don 
 came back. 
 
 " Wall, let him sleep. We shall not 
 travel many nights before you can also lie 
 down and go to sleep, whenever we make a 
 stop," said Pete, 
 
 At last it grew light enough, so that one 
 could see his way, and Pete asked Don to 
 come with him to a high point a little way 
 off, from which they could look over the 
 country. 
 
 Pete was no longer a young man, but 
 when it came to climbing hills, Don could 
 not keep up with him. 
 
 Pete took plenty of time to look the 
 country over in all directions. 
 
 " Don't stand up, son," he said after a 
 while, " but run your eyes close along the 
 east shore of the lake we passed last night, 
 and tell me what you see." 
 
SHARP EYES 311 
 
 " I see nothing but water and rocks and 
 trees," reported Don after he had looked up 
 and down the shore several times. " Do 
 you see anything? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes, I see an Indian camp." 
 
 " You do? " cried Don, looking at Pete's 
 face to make sure that Pete was not jok- 
 ing. 
 
 " Yes, I do," repeated Pete. " It is a 
 small hunting-camp of four ox five men." 
 
 " Do you see their tepee? " 
 
 " I think I do," the old man assured the 
 boy. 
 
 " I give it up. I guess I was not meant 
 for a scout. I don't see a thing." 
 
 " Look again," Pete encouraged the boy. 
 " Do the clumps of trees all look alike? " 
 
 " They do to me," the boy said, rather de- 
 jected. 
 
 " No, they don't. The large one near the 
 middle of the lake looks more bluish than 
 the others. That's smoke from a small fire. 
 It sort of hangs in the trees; I mean the 
 smoke does. 
 
 " Among the trees I see a large brownish 
 
312 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 spot. That's the tepee. The top is hidden 
 by tall bushes and branches." 
 
 " Oh, I see the smoke now," exclaimed 
 Don, " but I can't make out any tepee." 
 
 " Wall, let us return to camp. We must 
 move before breakfast." 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 THE LOST TREASURE 
 
 " DoN^T start a fire, Joe," called Pete, 
 when he saw Hank gathering sticks of sage- 
 brush and buffalo chips. " We must saddle 
 up and make for the rough country to our 
 right. Spread out as much as possible and 
 avoid travelling single file. There is a Sioux 
 hunting-camp east of the lake." 
 
 " Don't you want to go and look at the 
 camp? " asked Don. 
 
 " No," said Joe. " If Pete has seen it 
 I don't need to see it." 
 
 In about an hour, they halted in a box- 
 canyon near a spring. Joe built a small 
 fire to make tea, but extinguished the fire 
 as soon as he had the water boiling. 
 
 " Hank," requested Joe after breakfast, 
 
 " you go and lie down under the sage-brush 
 
 near the point of that cliff and keep a sharp 
 
 313 
 
314 THE THKEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 lookout, especially on our back trail. If 
 you see anything suspicious come down and 
 call us, but don't yell, and don't you stand 
 up on the cliff. 
 
 " The horses cannot get out of this can- 
 yon, just let them go as they please. We will 
 dig a pool for them below the spring, and 
 then Pete and Don and I shall roll in for a 
 nap till noon." 
 
 " Joe, this country looks almost like the 
 Bad Lands," Don said while he helped Joe 
 at digging the pool. 
 
 " It is a piece of Bad Lands," affirmed 
 Joe. " You find them scattered all through 
 the dry western plains. They are good 
 places to hide in. The Indians are not apt 
 to find us here, unless they should happen 
 to cross our trail while it is still fresh." 
 
 " How can you tell how old a trail is? " 
 asked the boy. 
 
 " On a fresh trail," Joe explained, " every 
 bit of soil around a track stands up sharp. 
 Then gradually the sand crumbles away on 
 the sharp edges. If the campers have left 
 bones or scraps of food, you can easily tell 
 
THE LOST TREASURE 315 
 
 whether those are fresh or several days or 
 weeks old, and the same is true of all other 
 signs you find on a trail or camp-site. For 
 instance, if you find a camp-fire still smol- 
 dering, you know that the campers are not 
 far ahead of you. On the Washita cam- 
 paign, one of our scouts smelled the smoke 
 of a deserted camp-fire, and that was the 
 first indication that we were getting close 
 to Black Kettle's camp. In a hostile 
 country, Indians always try to leave as lit- 
 tle of a trail as possible." 
 
 About noon Pete and Don relieved Hank, 
 while Joe and Hank went on foot to scout 
 southwest of the camp in the direction they 
 expected to travel. Hank said he was not 
 sleepy and would rather go scouting with 
 Joe than remain in camp. 
 
 After about two hours, Joe and Hank 
 returned and the news they brought was of 
 the kind that would have frightened men 
 less brave and experienced than Joe and 
 Pete. 
 
 There v/as another small Indian camp 
 about five miles west of their ovm box-can- 
 
316 THE THREAT OP SITTING BULL 
 
 yon camp. Joe had seen smoke and felt 
 sure that he had made out through his glass 
 several ponies close to the smoke, but he 
 had not seen a tepee. 
 
 To Hank, the whole country had just 
 looked like a wilderness of sage-brush, rocks 
 and clumps of bushes and small trees. He 
 had not been able to see either smoke or 
 ponies. 
 
 Hank and Don were much excited and 
 did not even have any appetite for supper, 
 but Joe and Pete ate a hearty meal as usual, 
 and did not seem in the least disturbed about 
 their Indian neighbors. 
 
 " Indians never worried me, if I saw the 
 varmints first," remarked Pete while he cut 
 off another piece of dried meat. 
 
 " Eat a good meal," Joe encouraged the 
 boys. " We have plenty of time, for we shall 
 not travel to-night. It is going to rain, and 
 night travel is bad enough in good weather." 
 
 After supper, Joe and Pete cut some 
 poles, set up the tepee and put the camp in 
 shape for a storm. 
 
 The boys threw some brush of buffalo- 
 
THE LOST TREASURE 317 
 
 bushes across the narrowest place of the can- 
 yon, so that the ponies could not wander 
 away during the night. 
 
 " Make a good fence," Joe had told them. 
 " A horse is a wise creature in many ways. 
 He never gets lost and can always find his 
 way back to camp. But in other ways he 
 is the biggest fool that ever walked on four 
 legs. He will shy a thousand times at 
 things that he knows are perfectly harmless, 
 and he always wants to go back where he 
 came from. When the storm breaks, these 
 beasts might think that there is better 
 shelter in the Bad Lands of the Little INIis- 
 souri than in the Bad Lands of the Yellow- 
 stone." 
 
 The storm did break just before dark with 
 a high wind, a driving cold rain, and a pelt- 
 ing shower of hail. 
 
 In hundreds of spouts the water fell into 
 the canvon, and in ten minutes the dry run 
 near the tepee was a gurgling, rushing tor- 
 rent. 
 
 The boys sat wath awed faces near the lit- 
 tle fire in the tepee as the thunder crashed 
 
318 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 among the cliffs and rolled and rumbled far 
 away to the east. 
 
 But Pete smoked his old black pipe with 
 calm contentment. " That's a fine storm," 
 he drawled after a long silence, " just the 
 kind I like. It used to come down like that 
 on the Little Piney." 
 
 " Does the lightning ever strike a tepee? " 
 asked Don, frightened at the wild uproar of 
 the first bad thunderstorm on the plain. 
 
 " I never heard of it," answered Pete. 
 " It would be more likely to strike the cliffs, 
 the tall cottonwoods, or the old cedars on the 
 cliffs. I have known of them being struck, 
 but a tepee among the low bushy cedars in a 
 canyon is quite safe. 
 
 " Do you realize, boys, that this is good 
 weather for us? Thar won't no Indians 
 trail us into this box-canyon after a storm 
 like this. Our tracks are wiped out dead. 
 Thank the Good Lord for this fine storm." 
 
 " We can all sleep safely to-night," Joe 
 added. " This storm is more protection to 
 us than a company of soldiers. So don't 
 worry, boys. We are warm and dry in our 
 
THE LOST TKEASUEE 319 
 
 tepee, if it rains all night. When we get 
 ready, we shall travel again." 
 
 In the morning the boys were surprised 
 to find the horse pool washed away, and the 
 spring running milky with a fine white mud. 
 
 Joe and Pete decided that they had better 
 remain a few days in the canyon. During 
 that time the hunting parties east and west 
 of them might move away. 
 
 " The soft ground," Joe explained, " is 
 bad for us to travel over. If we wait a few 
 days, till the ground again becomes dry and 
 hard, our horses will leave less of a trail. 
 You boys get busy hunting rabbits and sage- 
 hens with your bows and arrows, for our 
 dried meat and other provisions are going 
 pretty fast." 
 
 When the boys were about to start on 
 their hunt, Hank came running back to the 
 tepee with the greatest anxiety sho^vn on his 
 face. 
 
 " What is the trouble? " asked Joe as he 
 reached for his rifle. " Have the Indians 
 discovered us? " 
 
 " No," cried Hank, " we have not seen 
 
320 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 any Indians, but my box is gone. My tin 
 box with the greenbacks for Father is gone. 
 I put it under a rock near the dry creek 
 last night, and now it's gone." 
 
 Here was indeed a serious misfortune. 
 Joe had advised Hank not to keep the box 
 in the tepee, but to hide it a rod or two 
 away from the camp. 
 
 " Our camp might be plundered by In- 
 dians in our absence," Joe had told the boys, 
 " but no Indian would find a small box hid- 
 den somewhere under a rock." 
 
 The box had been kept under a rock in 
 the Bad Lands all winter, but on the pre- 
 vious night Hank had hidden the box near 
 the dry run, and the water had risen and 
 swept it away. 
 
 All four of the campers searched the bed 
 of the run, which was now dry again. They 
 dug up every patch of freshly deposited 
 mud, they looked in every place where the 
 flood had run over the bank, but the box 
 remained lost. 
 
 " Pete, we have to find that box if it takes 
 all summer. I can't say to Stamford, * Here 
 
"My tin box with the gbernbacxs s-or; FathbH .is ; a<',irts ; >' 
 
 Page 320. ' '•■''' 
 
THE LOST TEEASURE 321 
 
 are your boys, but we lost the $10,000, most 
 of your business capital.' " 
 
 Finding a treasure-box was new business 
 to Pete. 
 
 " I have done a little mining for gold," 
 said Pete, " but I can't figure out any way 
 of finding a tin box, except just to hunt for 
 it till we find it. You don't suppose it has 
 gone clear down to the Yellowstone? " 
 
 " If it has," Joe replied dejectedly, " it 
 is gone. And I can never repay $10,000." 
 
 " You wouldn't have to repay it," argued 
 Hank. " It is not your fault that I lost it. 
 I should not have put it so near the run, and 
 I should have thought of it when it began 
 to rain." 
 
 " All the same," maintained Joe, *' I am 
 responsible to your father, and we have to 
 find that box, no matter how long it takes 
 us." 
 
 Next morning the sky was clear and the 
 birds were singing cheerfully, but the four 
 campers were far from being cheerful. 
 
 Breakfast was eaten almost in silence, 
 and after the meal Joe sat in front of the 
 
322 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 tepee and smoked like an old Indian chief 
 planning revenge on his enemies. 
 
 " Look here, men," he broke the silence, 
 " this wild digging everywhere is of no 
 use. It is fifty miles along this creek bed 
 to the Yellowstone. If we fuss around the 
 way we did yesterday, it will take us all 
 summer to search this creek bed. We have 
 to find a better plan. Sit down here, all 
 of you, and do a bit of thinking." 
 
 " Would that box float or sink in water? " 
 asked Pete. 
 
 " It almost floated," answered Hank. " I 
 tried it in the Little Missouri, and it kind of 
 himg in the water like wood that is not dry." 
 
 " I think I have it," said Pete with some 
 spirit. " If that fool box floats and is air- 
 tight, then it can't be buried in mud. It 
 must be hung up in some driftwood, or the 
 current must have swept it out of the bed 
 and left it stranded on the bank or hung up 
 in some brush or rubbish." 
 
 " I know it is air-tight," declared Hank; 
 " I looked it over many times and the tinner 
 was told to solder it up air-tight. Uncle 
 
THE LOST TREASURE 323 
 
 Reuben and I stood by and saw him do 
 it. 
 
 The treasure-hunters now did no more 
 digging, but Pete and Joe searched care- 
 fully along the creek bed, and went through 
 every pile of driftwood and rubbish, while 
 Don and Hank lay on some high points and 
 kept a sharp lookout for Indians. 
 
 " ^^Hiat would we do if the Indians catch 
 us at this place? " asked Don one evening 
 after they had been searching in vain for 
 several days. 
 
 " We would make it awfully hot for 
 them," declared Pete savagely. " I am not 
 in a pleasant mood for visitors. If they 
 know what's good for their health they will 
 keep away from these diggings. 
 
 "Anyhow, I am not afraid of Indians we 
 see first. It is those that we don't see that I 
 am scared of. If you fellows let any In- 
 dian sneak up on us while Joe and I are 
 hunting that blarney box of yours, I'll use a 
 good sage-brush switch on you. So don't 
 you go to sleep on picket duty! " 
 
 \^^en Joe and Pete were again at work 
 
324 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 next day, Pete said he didn't really mind 
 hunting for that box, as long as they all had 
 plenty of time, but he was getting a little 
 afraid some Indians might cross the creek 
 and surprise them. 
 
 "You don't think," he asked, "that 
 blooming box could have sailed clear down 
 to the river? " 
 
 Joe did not think this at all probable. 
 " No wood or rubbish," he felt sure, " travels 
 very far on one flood in a run like this. It 
 is sure to be stranded or hung up." 
 
 On Saturday the men came to a place 
 where the creek bed spread out flat over 
 some layers of rock, and there Pete kicked 
 with his foot against a small object covered 
 with dry grass and sticks. 
 
 " Look here, Joe! " he called. " Is that 
 Hank's tarnation box? I never saw the 
 blooming thing, you know." 
 
 *^ Hurrah!" shouted Joe, forgetting where 
 he was. " Pete, I feel like kissing you. 
 That's the treasure-box! Pete, you don't 
 know how glad I am that we foimd it! " 
 
 "Wall, I reckon," Pete remarked, "we 
 
THE LOST TREASURE S25 
 
 ought to hold a Thanksgiving Service to- 
 morrow. Let us call the boys. They will 
 do some dancing when they see their rusty 
 old box." 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 
 TOO MANY TRAILS 
 
 The happy campers decided not to travel 
 on Sunday, but in the afternoon they did a 
 little scouting, and found that their neigh- 
 bors on the east had left, while those on the 
 west were still there. 
 
 " I declare," reported Pete, " those fel- 
 lows west of us must be camping near a fine 
 spring or water-hole. I have a suspicion 
 they are Crows; I don't believe any Sioux 
 would stay so long in one place in this coun- 
 try. Their large camps are all south of the 
 Yellowstone. They must know that a big 
 campaign is planned against them, and they 
 would not be in a mood to remain long in a 
 pleasant, quiet hunting-camp, as I know In- 
 dian nature. I have a good mind to go and 
 find out whether they are Sioux or Crows." 
 
 " You will do no such thing," Joe told 
 
 326 
 
TOO MANY TRAILS 327 
 
 him. " The Crows may be very friendly to 
 the whites, but we travel much more safely 
 alone than in company with Indians." 
 
 Both Pete and Joe disliked night travel 
 very much. " It really is not travelling," 
 they agreed. " You sort of grope your way 
 along. If you come to an impassable can- 
 yon or cliff you can't tell which way to turn, 
 and when you make camp, j^ou don't know 
 till daylight whether you have stopped in a 
 safe place or in a dangerous one, unless you 
 know the country so well that you can pick 
 your route in spite of the darkness or the de- 
 ceptive light of the moon." 
 
 Neither Joe nor Pete was well acquainted 
 with this country. They knew that they 
 had to keep a general southwesterly direc- 
 tion. They wished to keep from ten to 
 twenty miles north of the Yellowstone, but 
 they did not wish to leave the land of the 
 rivers and creeks that drain to the Yellow- 
 stone. 
 
 Joe's map had been dra^vn by a soldier at 
 Fort Totten, who had not claimed that it 
 was accurate in detail. It showed only the 
 
328 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 general direction of the Yellowstone, the 
 Missouri and the Musselshell, a large tribu- 
 tary of the Missouri. 
 
 After a Sunday of rest they started, as 
 near as they could tell, for the big bend of 
 the Musselshell. As they would pass, at 
 least, three miles south of the Indian camp 
 at the springe they decided to risk travelling 
 in daytime. 
 
 "Any Sioux in this country wouldn't be 
 looking for white men so far from the Yel- 
 lowstone," Joe reasoned; " so we ought to be 
 able to slip through, if we scout ahead care- 
 fully and not try to go fast." 
 
 They had covered less than ten miles 
 when they struck a trail of five ponies going 
 north. 
 
 "Hang the luck!" muttered Pete. 
 " What does it mean, Joe? " 
 
 Joe examined the tracks silently, but Don 
 ventured to suggest wild ponies. 
 
 Pete looked at Don, as if the lad had ut- 
 tered some schoolboy foolishness. 
 
 " Hide in the buffalo-bushes," he said, 
 " till I find out." 
 
TOO MAINT TRAILS 329 
 
 In half an hour he returned, and his open, 
 manly face showed that he had discovered 
 something he did not like. 
 
 " The ponies," he reported, " may have 
 been too wild for some boys to ride, but each 
 one carried an Indian on his back. They 
 passed here an hour ago. Too bad, Joe," 
 he added with a grim humor, " you didn't 
 get us off a little earlier so we could have 
 said * How! ' to the gentlemen." 
 
 " It pains me very much, Pete," Joe re- 
 plied in the same vein, " to hear that we 
 missed by so little any of your dear old 
 friends. Perhaps we had better follow them. 
 
 " Whenever you see an Indian trail, you 
 get sort of mad, just like Custer. You 
 should have gone with him on this cam- 
 paign." 
 
 "Oh, close up, you old clam!" retorted 
 Pete. " If they had ever kept you sweating 
 in a wagon-box for a whole day, you would 
 get mad, too, when you found a Sioux trail." 
 
 ** How do you know that it is a Sioux 
 trail? " Hank made bold to ask. 
 
 " I don't know it," Pete snapped. " I 
 
330 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 just reckon it is. A bunch of young bucks, 
 I reckon, who have gone after the Crow 
 camp at the spring. 
 
 " If you fellows don't quit worrying me I 
 shall desert you and join Custer. I do hope 
 Custer will be as lucky with Sitting Bull 
 and Crazy Horse as he was with Black Ket- 
 tle. That battle on the Washita wasn't any- 
 thing to brag of. You just caught them 
 napping." 
 
 "Did I ever brag of it?" Joe replied 
 quickly. " I always said I didn't like that 
 kind of Indian fighting." 
 
 " That's the only kind that hurts them and 
 brings them to terms. Chasing painted 
 bucks around over the plains doesn't accom- 
 plish anything. They enjoy that and laugh 
 at the soldiers and the whole government." 
 
 " I agree with you," Joe said good-na- 
 turedly. " Now load your pipe and let us 
 travel." 
 
 '' It is loaded," Pete laughed. " Spread 
 out, while we cross this trail, and cut over 
 on hard ground." 
 
 About two hours later, Pete, who was 
 
TOO MA]^Y TRAILS 331 
 
 scouting ahead of the party, came to another 
 trail leading south. 
 
 " Go back and lay up in that scrub we 
 have just passed," he ordered, after he had 
 turned and met his friends. " I have struck 
 another trail of the painted devils. And 
 don't stake the horses out. We have to hide 
 them in the brush till dark. I am going 
 back to do a little scouting along that trail." 
 
CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 TALK OR SHOOT? 
 
 Pete stayed away so long that the boys 
 began to fear he had fallen into the hands of 
 the Indians whose trail he had gone to fol- 
 low. But Joe assured the boys that old 
 Pete scouting on foot would never be seen 
 first by Indians on horseback. 
 
 However, the lads were much worried till 
 Pete returned to camp an hour before dark. 
 
 He had followed the trail for more than 
 three miles, he told his friends, and while he 
 had learned a good deal about the party who 
 made it, several points concerning their trail 
 were a mystery to him. 
 
 Only four men had made this trail, and 
 
 they were not the same Indians who made 
 
 the trail they had found first. Pete had 
 
 learned this from the tracks of the ponies 
 
 332 
 
TALK OK SHOOT? 333 
 
 and also from the fact that this trail was at 
 least a day old. 
 
 "Were they Sioux or Crows?" Joe was 
 anxious to know. 
 
 Pete said they were Sioux, and showed a 
 discarded moccasin, which he had picked up 
 at their deserted camp. 
 
 On what errand this party was travelling, 
 Pete had not been able to learn. They knew 
 that they were travelling in a country where 
 their sworn enemies, the Crows, might fall 
 upon them ; for they had built no fire at their 
 sleeping-place, which was well hidden, and 
 they had allowed their horses very little rope. 
 It seemed to Pete that they were on a horse- 
 stealing expedition, and they would, of 
 course, be very eager to secure a few Crow 
 or white scalps, if luck favored them, 
 
 " But here is one point that puzzles me," 
 Pete wound up his story. " The part of the 
 trail which we hit is a part of a big loop. 
 The trail runs south a mile, then west about 
 a mile, and then shoots off almost straight 
 north, just a little west of north. 
 
 " They slept at the point where the trail 
 
334 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 turns north, and one of the party was a mere 
 boy, not bigger than Hank." 
 
 " How can you know that, Pete," Don 
 asked eagerly, " when you never saw them? 
 Or did you see them? " 
 
 " Didn't I tell you the trail was a day 
 old? " Pete came back with a mild rebuke. 
 " It is easy enough to tell what men did on a 
 trail, but to tell the reason why they did it, 
 what was in their mind ; — that is not so easy. 
 
 " It was not difficult to tell a boy's bed 
 from a man's bed. But why did they make 
 this loop in their trail? 
 
 " Here is my guess: I know that one of 
 the party was a boy. Two of them were 
 young men, friends of the boy. The leader, 
 an older man, intended to return to the Yel- 
 lowstone; but during the evening, the boy 
 and youths persuaded him to go a little 
 farther into the dangerous country." 
 
 " Do you mean to tell us," asked Joe, who 
 had been listening intently, " that we struck 
 their trail twice and did not see it the first 
 time? " 
 
 " That is exactly what I do mean to tell 
 
TALK OR SHOOT? 335 
 
 you. Here is their trail, and here is ours." 
 And Pete traced the trails on the ground ; 
 
 WhtCctWc/V^sTfcttl 
 
 "Well, I'll be dinged!" muttered Joe. 
 " Then they are now north of us, and we 
 shall either cross their trail again, or they 
 will cross ours, if they ever return to the 
 Yellowstone." 
 
 " You have said it, Joe! " Pete called out, 
 slapping his knee. " For the next fifty 
 miles we have to be on the watch for that 
 bunch of thieves and cutthroats, until we 
 find their trail going south." 
 
 " How do you know they are thieves and 
 cutthroats? " Don was going to ask, but he 
 caught himself in time, and tried to answer 
 his own question. 
 
 " Let us have a meal of that tender Little 
 
336 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 Missouri mutton," Pete requested after a 
 time. " We had better not build a fire," he 
 added. " It would be careless to sleep near 
 a fireplace to-night, and there is no other 
 safe camping-place in sight." 
 
 Men and horses were allowed to rest in 
 this camp only till about midnight, when the 
 train moved until there was daylight enough 
 to select a camp where there was water and 
 good grass for the horses. 
 
 From now on they proceeded by slow 
 laborious stages of night travel till they 
 reached a river of considerable size, the first 
 they had touched since they had left the 
 Yellowstone. 
 
 The river seemed to come from the west, 
 but made a big bend to the north some ten or 
 twelve miles south of the point where the 
 travellers had struck it. From a descrip- 
 tion, which a soldier at Fort Totten had 
 given them, Joe and Pete agreed that it 
 must be the Musselshell, which runs into the 
 Missouri. 
 
 The Yellowstone receives no tributary of 
 any size from the north, and both the two 
 
TALK OR SHOOT? 337 
 
 men, as well as the boys, were glad to make 
 camp once more on a stream with green trees 
 and fine grass; for the somber gray of the 
 sage-brush had begun to weary the travel- 
 lers. Of trees they had seen nothing but a 
 stunted growth since they had crossed the 
 Yellowstone, and the foliage of some of the 
 larger bushes was of the same silver-gray as 
 that of the sage-brush. 
 
 The fine hairs which cause this grayish 
 color protect the plant against too much sun- 
 light and evaporation, but the trees and 
 shrubs so protected do not make cheerful 
 landscape of rich green trees and shrubs like 
 those in eastern North America and West- 
 ern Europe. They paint the grayish and 
 subdued foliage of our arid West and of the 
 Mediterranean comitries in Europe. The 
 farther west one travels from the Mississippi 
 the more small plants and shrubs he finds, the 
 foliage of which is coated with gray silver, 
 and which, for that reason, stand out in 
 strong contrast to their green neighbors. 
 On the dry western plains, even the grass 
 has a grayish tint, very different from the 
 
338 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 rich green pastures and meadows we enjoy 
 in New England, Kentucky, or Minnesota. 
 
 When Pete and Joe reached the Mussel- 
 shell, the foliage was at its best. Every leaf 
 looked fresh and delicate, as if some nymph 
 had specially cleaned and burnished it. 
 Western rivers run like wreaths of beauty 
 through the treeless grassy plains and the 
 great stretches of sage-brush and dull brown 
 hills. 
 
 It was now the middle of June, the time 
 when nature everywhere in the north, but 
 most strikingly on western rivers, has 
 donned her bridal garb. The wild roses, 
 next to the goldenrod and the sunflowers, 
 the most abundant beautiful wild flowers of 
 North America, were in bloom, and the birds 
 were still in full song. 
 
 Although the two white Indians, as Joe 
 sometimes called the boys, were by no means 
 blind or deaf to the appeal of birds and 
 flowers, a river makes its own peculiar ap- 
 peal to every boy. The water was still a 
 little cool, but that did not matter to Don 
 and Hank, who had not enjoyed a real swim 
 
TALK OR SHOOT? 339 
 
 since they left Minnewaukan, the large 
 Spirit Lake of the Dakotas. 
 
 Then the fishing-tackle was found, and 
 boundless was the joy when they brought a 
 string of catfish or bullheads to camp. If 
 Joe had not strictly forbidden all yells, the 
 lads w^ould have given a shout every time 
 they pulled out a fish. 
 
 Hank noticed that Pete and Joe did not 
 take a swim together, but while one was in 
 the river the other seemed to be puttering 
 around camp. 
 
 During the week of night travel they had 
 not once built a fire. 
 
 This rigid precaution had been forced 
 upon them by many signs of danger, which 
 they had discovered during the first part of 
 the week. Not only did they find several 
 trails and camp-sites, but twice they saw a 
 small party of Indians pass through the 
 country, one of them coming within a mile 
 of their camp. Whether these Indians were 
 Sioux or Crows, they had no means of find- 
 ing out. They seemed to be headed for the 
 Big Horn, and Pete was of the opinion that 
 
340 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 they were Sioux who intended to join one of 
 the big camps of their people south of the 
 YelloAvstone. 
 
 During the last three days, however, no 
 Indians or signs of Indians had been discov- 
 ered, and Joe thought it would be safe to 
 rest a few days on the Musselshell. At this 
 place Pete again built fires for cooking small 
 game and fish, but he always lit the fire after 
 dark in an enclosure of skins and robes. 
 
 " They can't see the smoke at night," ex- 
 plained Pete, " and the skins will keep the 
 light from showing at any distance." 
 
 Not only in the matter of fires, but in 
 everything else were the two men extremely 
 cautious. The horses were always picketed, 
 and either one of the men or the two boys 
 were on guard. 
 
 When they left the camp on the Mussel- 
 shell they travelled straight south, and 
 reached the big bend of the river in the even- 
 ing after a day's journey of some twenty 
 miles. Here they made camp in a small 
 grove, surrounded by bushes of buffalo- 
 berry and other small shrubs. 
 
TALK OR SHOOT? 341 
 
 Next morning, when they were about 
 ready to travel, Pete, who had been lookmg 
 over the country from a high place, came 
 running back to camp. 
 
 " Hide the horses behind the brush," he 
 spoke hurriedly. " We can't leave. Eight 
 or ten Indians are coming right down on us. 
 Everybody get ready for a fight! 
 
 " We must muzzle the horses, so they can't 
 make a noise ! " 
 
 In half an hour the Indians stopped in 
 another grove only a few hundred yards 
 away, but it was evident that they had 
 no idea of the presence of the party of 
 whites; for they picketed their horses, 
 and sat do^vn to eat, but they built no 
 fire. 
 
 " If any of them leave the grove thiey will 
 surely discover our horses," declared Joe, 
 " for that brush is too small to make a good 
 hiding-place. Come, Pete, let us throw the 
 horses and keep them lying down. If we 
 don't, we shall be discovered." 
 
 Don and Hank were surprised to see how 
 quickly the two men threw each horse and 
 
342 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 tied his legs in such a way that he had to lie 
 flat on his side. 
 
 " It is hard luck for the poor beasts/' 
 whispered Joe, *' but we had to do it. Keep 
 your knives handy. We may want to cut 
 them loose in a hurry." 
 
 That was a long, anxious day. All talk- 
 ing was done in a whisper and no man could 
 leave the grove all day. 
 
 Fortunately the Indians had no dogs with 
 them, and the men of the party seemed to be 
 tired and lay down to sleep. 
 
 " Couldn't we slip away while they are 
 asleep? " asked Hank. 
 
 " We could do so on foot," Joe thought, 
 " but not on horseback. The stamping of 
 the horses would wake them up ; and I can't 
 think of leaving the poor beasts tied up to 
 starve." 
 
 " No, we can't do that," the boys agreed; 
 " we won't abandon the horses that carried 
 us all the way from Fort Totten. We'll 
 fight before we do that." 
 
 " Then we have to stay here till evening," 
 decided Joe. " They will leave before dark, 
 
TALK OR SHOOT? 343 
 
 I think, and they may not discover us. We 
 could make a strong defense in this place, 
 but if they catch us travelling in the open, 
 they would have us at a great disadvantage." 
 
 Toward evening the Indians did what Joe 
 had expected. They brought in their horses 
 and made ready to start. 
 
 "By the great horn spoon!" muttered 
 Pete. " They are coming this way. They 
 will run right into us ! " 
 
 A minute later the Indians stopped, as 
 one of them pointed to the horses stretched 
 out under the trees. 
 
 " Come on, Pete," whispered Joe, '' we 
 have to talk to them. You boys stay under 
 
 cover." 
 
 " Hang it, Joe," replied Pete, " shooting 
 would do more with them than talking." 
 
 But when Joe stepped out in the open, 
 Pete did the same. 
 
 When the Indians saw the two armed men 
 suddenly stand up within pistol shot they 
 quickly galloped to a safe distance before 
 they took time for another look at their un- 
 expected camp neighbors. 
 
344 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 Joe made signs of peace to them, but also 
 signalled them not to approach, but to 
 leave. 
 
 Joe and Pete knew at once that the In- 
 dians were Sioux. " They are holding a 
 council," said Pete. " If they felt sure that 
 there were only two of us, they would soon 
 make up their minds what to do." 
 
 " We want to talk," one of the Indians 
 signalled. 
 
 " No talk," Joe told them in sign. 
 " Leave." And he and Pete pointed their 
 rifles at the Indians. 
 
 At that the Indians yelled and scattered. 
 They did not leave, however, but began to 
 ride around the camp, trying to discover how 
 many men it contained. 
 
 " I told you," said Pete, keeping his eyes 
 on them, " that shooting would do more with 
 them than talking. They won't leave till 
 we do some shooting. Gun talk is the only 
 talk these Sioux will listen to." 
 
 " We'll fight," replied Joe, " but we'll not 
 murder men from ambush." 
 
 The Sioux were getting bolder now. 
 
TALK OR SHOOT? 345 
 
 They came closer and closer to the grove, 
 and shouted and signalled defiance at the 
 four whites. 
 
 " White squaws! " they shouted, ** Cow- 
 ards! Come out and fight! You are no 
 men ! " 
 
 Very soon they began the tactics em- 
 ployed by the Plains Indians in those days. 
 They raced around the camp hanging to 
 the farther side of their ponies; and, pro- 
 tected that way, they fired wildly into the 
 camp. 
 
 " They are in range! " called Joe. *' Take 
 careful aim and blaze away! " 
 
 Three ponies fell at the first fire. One 
 Indian was dead, one badly wounded, and a 
 third one ran hurriedly out of range. Those 
 still on horseback had also, for the present, 
 had enough of fighting and quickly withdrew 
 to a safe distance. 
 
 But before it grew dark they came back 
 for another attack. All except one, how- 
 ever, seemed to be afraid to come within 
 range. 
 
 " Get that fellow on the calico pony," 
 
346 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 Pete called. " He is getting pretty fresh. 
 Maybe he does not believe we are armed 
 with breech-loaders. All together now! " 
 
 The pony fell dead, but the rider crawled 
 away behind some bushes, and it was impos- 
 sible to tell whether he was hit or not. 
 
 The remaining Sioux had no further de- 
 sire to fight and disappeared into a piece of 
 woods half a mile away. 
 
 Joe and Pete released the horses, and the 
 poor creatures appeared very happy to be 
 on their feet again, and at once began to ap- 
 pease their hunger on the grass and brush 
 within reach. 
 
 The two men also were ready for a hearty 
 cold supper, but the boys were too excited to 
 eat much. 
 
 " Will they come back after dark, when 
 we can't see them? " asked Don. 
 
 " You need not worry about that, son," 
 said Pete, trying to dispel the lad's appre- 
 hension. " These Indians will crawl up 
 during the night and carry away their dead 
 and wounded, but they are not likely to mo- 
 lest us, unless they think they could steal our 
 
TALK OR SHOOT? 347 
 
 horses. All tribes will steal horses after 
 dark, but they will not fight, unless cor- 
 nered." 
 
 There was, of course, no sleep and no 
 cheerful fire. The horses were tied in the 
 middle of the grove, and the four campers 
 quietly moved from place to place, peering 
 into the night and listening for sounds of 
 their crafty enemies. 
 
 About midnight Joe and Pete thought it 
 was time to move. 
 
 " Listen! Do you hear a song off east? " 
 asked Pete. " I can just hear it. It is the 
 death-song in the Sioux camp. They have 
 brought in their dead, and now is the time 
 for us to be off." 
 
 " Yes, it is time," Joe agreed. " Every- 
 thing we do not absolutely need we leave 
 here. 
 
 " We must make a dash for the Crow 
 country west of the mouth of the Big Horn. 
 God knows what we may run into, but it 
 can't be much worse than what we have gone 
 through." 
 
CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 CAUGHT IN THE OPEN 
 
 As silently as possible, the four white 
 travellers abandoned their camp and started 
 southwest along the route Pete had picked 
 out. 
 
 It seemed to the boys that, in spite of all 
 precaution, they made enough noise to be 
 heard a mile off. Now a horse stumbled 
 over a rock, now one snorted or even started 
 to whinny; for to keep still when he ought 
 to is one of the things a horse cannot learn. 
 
 It was a rough country for night travel, 
 and all were glad when day dawned so they 
 could see where they were going. 
 
 At a small stream running toward the 
 
 Musselshell, they made a brief halt to water 
 
 the horses, let them pick a little food, and 
 
 have a bite to eat for themselves. Then 
 
 they pushed on as fast as possible, without 
 
 straining and overheating the horses. 
 
 348 
 
CAUGHT IN THE OPEN 349 
 
 At noon they stopped for about an hour, 
 and again they travelled at a steady speed, 
 making good use of their spare horses. 
 
 When they made camp shortly before 
 dark, both men and horses were tired and 
 hungry. The horses were quickly staked 
 out, the men ate a piece of dried venison, 
 took a drink at a spring and were asleep in 
 their blankets before the stars came out ; all 
 except Pete, who had volunteered to stand 
 guard till midnight, when Joe would relieve 
 him. 
 
 Early in the morning they started at a 
 more leisurely gait, because they reasoned 
 that they now had so long a start of the 
 Indians that they could not be overtaken. 
 
 It was Joe's opinion that their recent 
 enemies would first look for them in the 
 abandoned camp, before they took up the 
 trail, and they might not pursue a party that 
 had inflicted such heavy loss on them. 
 
 " I should like to know," said Pete, as 
 they wound leisurely from coulee to coulee, 
 " where these Sioux came from, and where 
 they are going." 
 
350 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 Joe thought that they most likely came 
 either from the Fort Peck country or from 
 Manitoba. "And I think," he continued, 
 *' they are going to join the hostiles south of 
 the Yellowstone. We do not know what is 
 going on there, but I suspect that all these 
 straggling Indians know where the big 
 Sioux camps are and where Custer and 
 Terry and Gibbon are with the soldiers. 
 
 " I have been thinking a great deal of this 
 Indian war ever since we met the two sol- 
 diers. 
 
 " The Sioux warriors can travel faster 
 than the soldiers. If Terry and Custer 
 catch them at all, they are likely to catch 
 them in one big camp, and the Indians will 
 put up a desperate fight." 
 
 " That they will," Pete assented. " Cus- 
 ter will not be able to rout the Sioux the way 
 he routed the camps on the Washita. The 
 Sioux will fight. They have able leaders, 
 are well armed, and are veteran fighters." 
 
 "A strange people the Indians are," 
 mused Joe, when the company halted for a 
 few hours' rest at noon. " I once heard a 
 
CAUGHT IN THE OPEN 351 
 
 lecturer at Boston say they were men of the 
 Stone Age, who were still leading the life 
 our ancestors led perhaps ten thousand 
 years ago, and that the Stone Age men dis- 
 appeared from Asia and Europe long before 
 there was any written history. 
 
 '' But the days of the wild Indians are 
 numbered. The buffaloes are going, and 
 when they are gone the Indians must travel 
 the ' white man's road.' This will be the 
 last big Indian war, but I feel that there will 
 be some terrible fighting before it is all over." 
 In the afternoon the four men discovered 
 to their horror that they were being followed. 
 A party of six or seven Indians had ap- 
 proached \hem within half a mile by travel- 
 ling in a deep couKe. They were coming 
 on'f resh horses and were not the party from 
 the ^Musselshell. 
 
 " It's a run for life ! " ordered Joe. " We 
 can't take a chance here in the open. Don't 
 spare your horses, boys! " 
 
 It was soon apparent that the Indians 
 
 were gaining. 
 
 " They are trying to cut us off from reach- 
 
352 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 ing the Yellowstone valley," Pete called to 
 Joe. " Look after the boys, Joe. I'm an 
 old man. It doesn't matter about me." 
 And the soldier turned his horse and faced 
 the yelling savages. 
 
 The Indians at once swerved to right and 
 left. But the fighting blood was up in the 
 veteran of many battles. Undisturbed by 
 the yelling and wild shooting of the Sioux, 
 he took deliberate aim, and brought down 
 the two nearest Indians. 
 
 But now his own pony fell, and Pete lay 
 down flat behind his fallen horse. 
 
 When Joe and the boys heard the shots 
 and saw their old friend unhorsed, they were 
 at his side as quickly as the horses could 
 carry them. 
 
 At the same moment Pete sprang to his 
 feet, waved his arms and shouted: 
 
 " Come on, ye howling divils ! " 
 
 But the Sioux had lost all desire to come 
 on. They scattered to the northward and 
 whipped up their horses to get out of range 
 as fast as possible. 
 
 Pete mounted one of the extra horses, and 
 
CAUGHT IN THE OPEN 353 
 
 the four men once more turned their faces 
 toward the Yellowstone, whose valley was 
 now in plain sight. 
 
 For several miles three of the Indians 
 watched them, but were very careful not to 
 come within range of Pete's rifle. 
 
 Just before dusk the four whites rode 
 slowly into a small grove of cottonwoods 
 half a mile from the river. 
 
 " This is a good place for a camp and for 
 a fight," said Pete. " If any more Sioux 
 want to try us, we can take care of a score 
 of them herel " 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 TO THE LITTLE BIG HORN 
 
 If the Sioux had located the white man's 
 camp they did consider it too risky to molest 
 this Idnd of white men any more. 
 
 Although Joe and Pete omitted no pre- 
 caution, they saw no sign of hostile Sioux 
 either during the night or in the morning. 
 The day being Sunday they intended to re- 
 main in camp. 
 
 In the afternoon, while they were discuss- 
 ing what to do next, the boys discovered a 
 lone Indian riding up the Yellowstone. 
 
 Joe brought his glass to bear on him and, 
 from the way he wore his hair in a scalp 
 lock, at once pronounced him a Crow, or 
 Absaroka. 
 
 " Let me see if I cannot bring him into 
 
 camp," volunteered Pete. " He can tell us 
 
 just where we are and where Custer and the 
 
 soldiers have gone." 
 
 354 
 
TO THE LITTLE BIG H0R:N^ 355 
 
 So Joe mounted the fastest pony and 
 started for the river. " I may have to run 
 him down," he remarked as he left the camp. 
 
 When the Crow saw Joe waving his hat, 
 he was satisfied that the approaching rider 
 was really a white man and made no at- 
 tempt to escape. 
 
 Pete hoped that the old Indian had iDicked 
 up a few words of English from the traders 
 and soldiers, and asked him: "Where are 
 we?" 
 
 " Yellowstone," replied the Crow, point- 
 ing toward the river. 
 
 "Where is the Big Horn?" inquired 
 Pete. 
 
 " Little way," replied the Crow, pointing 
 east. " There, near big trees." 
 
 And Pete learned with joy that they had 
 made camp only five miles above the mouth 
 of the Big Horn, which enters the Yellow- 
 stone from the south in the present State of 
 Montana. 
 
 " Come to camp," Pete invited his in- 
 formant. " Eat good chuck." 
 
 The Indian was quite willing to do so, for 
 
356 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 the Crows had never been at war with the 
 whites. 
 
 " Joe," said Pete, when he arrived with his 
 new friend, " set out all the white man's 
 chuck we have left. My friend here is just 
 the man we need." 
 
 When the Crow had done full justice to 
 Joe's sweet coffee, the last bacon and a big 
 kettleful of corn mush, Joe had the Indian 
 fill his pipe with real tobacco, and then Pete 
 was ready for more talk. 
 
 " Where is Custer, Chief Long- Yellow- 
 Hair? " asked Pete. 
 
 " March from Rosebud to Little Big 
 Horn maybe. Gone three sleeps. Maybe, 
 have big fight. Big Sioux camp." 
 
 " That means Custer left the Rosebud on 
 Thursday, probably for the Little Big 
 Horn," explained Pete. " This is Sunday, 
 the twenty-fifth of June. 
 
 " Where is Terry and all the other sol- 
 diers?" 
 
 " March up Big Horn." 
 
 "Where is the fire-boat?'* 
 
 " Go up Big Horn." 
 
TO THE LITTLE BIG H0R:N' 357 
 
 " The large fire-boat went up the Big 
 Horn? " repeated Pete, for no steamer had 
 ever been known to ascend the swift current 
 of the Big Horn. 
 
 " Yes, big fire-boat go up Big Horn, when 
 sun was high. Some soldiers on it." 
 
 When Pete became convinced that a 
 steamer had actually gone up the Big Horn, 
 he was strongly tempted to follow the boat. 
 
 " Joe," he asked, " dare we risk it with the 
 lads? Some of our friends may need us, 
 and I would sure like to be there." 
 
 Joe thought they were not likely to meet 
 worse dangers than those they had already 
 faced, and the boys begged to go, so they 
 could all learn the outcome of Custer's big 
 fight with the Sioux. 
 
 "Can we cross the Yellowstone?" he 
 asked the Indian. 
 
 " Maybe in bull-boat. I hide bull-boat in 
 bushes." 
 
 After a good deal of argument, and the 
 promise of some tobacco, a hunting-knife, 
 and a red blanket, the old man consented to 
 guide the party of whites up the Big Horn 
 
358 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 during the night; but he insisted that he 
 
 would return when the sun came up next 
 
 morning. 
 
 " Sioux," he said. " Sioux everywhere. 
 
 Big camp on Little Big Horn, maybe." 
 He was too old, he explained, to fight the 
 
 Sioux any more, but when he was a young 
 
 man he had brought many Sioux scalps to 
 
 his lodge. 
 
 " Joe, couldn't this Indian betray us to 
 
 the Sioux? " asked Don, as the company of 
 
 five was winding in silence through very 
 
 rough and broken country. 
 
 "A Crow would never betray a white man 
 
 to the Sioux. That would be contrary to 
 
 Indian nature." 
 
 " But aren't some Indians treacherous?" 
 " Yes, they are. You have to know when 
 
 to trust them and whom to trust." 
 " Does Pete know our guide? " 
 " No, he has never seen him before." 
 " Then I would be afraid to trust him. 
 
 Before we left home, Uncle Reuben told us 
 
 not to trust strangers at the railway stations 
 
 and on trains = He said any fellow we met 
 
TO THE LITTLE BIG HORN 359 
 
 who offered to show us the town was a crook. 
 How do you know that this Indian is not a 
 
 crook? " 
 
 " I am not sure that I can prove it to you 
 before morning, but Pete and I know that 
 we can trust this old man as safely as if we 
 had known him all our lives. 
 
 "You see, he will not receive his two 
 pounds of tobacco and the red blanket and 
 the hunting-knife before he leads us to the 
 bank of the Big Horn after daylight. This 
 pay means as much to him as a hundred dol- 
 lars to a white man. And he gets no pay 
 till he shows us a good camp on the river 
 
 bank." 
 
 " Won't he get ugly if' we don't like the 
 
 first camp he picks? " 
 
 " Don, how long would he stay ugly with 
 four of us armed like highway robbers? " 
 
 " Highway robbers? " Don laughed. " Is 
 that what we look like? " 
 
 " The police on Boston Commons would 
 surely think so." 
 
 At this point Hank, who had waited for 
 Don and Joe, brought word from the guide 
 
SCO THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 that the man and the boy made too much 
 talk. 
 
 It was some time after daylight when the 
 guide pointed to a river running swiftly at 
 the base of rocky cliffs, and said, " Big 
 Horn." It was almost the only thing he 
 had spoken all night, except in answer to 
 questions. 
 
 When Pete went to a higher point to take 
 a look up the river the boys followed him as 
 if they had some important thing on their 
 minds. 
 
 " Pete," asked Don, " what is our guide's 
 name? Hank and I want to ask him some- 
 thing." 
 
 " I don't know," said Pete. " Don't you 
 remember that it is bad manners among In- 
 dians to ask a man for his name? Just go 
 and ask him what j^ou wish to know." 
 
 The boys were anxious to know where the 
 fire-boat was. 
 
 " We go and see," said the Crow. "Maybe 
 I tell you." 
 
 He and the boys had no sooner arrived at 
 the river bank, when he pointed south and 
 
TO THE LITTLE BIG HORN 361 
 
 said: " Fire-boat go up that way. Make big 
 wave here." 
 
 When they had ascended the high bank 
 again, Pete had coffee and breakfast ready 
 and the Indian enjoyed another good meal 
 of white man's food, but he could not be per- 
 suaded to go up the river with them. So 
 Joe paid him for his services and very soon 
 he departed the way they had come. 
 
 The object of the two men and their boys 
 was now to overtake the steamer Far West 
 that had gone up the Big Horn. 
 
 They travelled with great caution, for 
 they were aware that they were still in a 
 dangerous coimtry, although they did not 
 meet with recent Indian signs. Toward the 
 southwest, however, they saw smoke as of a 
 big Indian camp. 
 
 During the greater part of the day they 
 lay in concealment in a ravine near the river 
 and earlv next morning thev reached the 
 steamer tied up to an island, where the Little 
 Big Horn from the east enters the Big 
 Horn. 
 
 To the questions of the whereabouts of 
 
362 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 Terry and Custer, the men on the steamer 
 could give but little more information than 
 the old Crow guide had given to Joe and 
 Pete. 
 
 Custer with the Seventh Cavalry had 
 marched south from the mouth of the Rose- 
 bud on Thursday. Terry and Gibbon had 
 gone south up the Big Horn, about thirty 
 miles west of the Rosebud. 
 
 Captain Marsh had orders to wait with the 
 boat at the mouth of the Little Big Horn 
 and he was now at that place. Heavy 
 smoke had been seen to the south on Sunday 
 and Monday. 
 
 It was now Tuesday morning, the 27th of 
 June. The smoke had disappeared. The 
 general opinion was that Custer and Terry 
 had caught the Indians in camp and had de- 
 feated them; but no messenger had arrived 
 at the boat. 
 
 It was a beautiful summer day, and the 
 men and soldiers off duty had begun fishing 
 from the island. 
 
 While Captain IMarsh and some officers 
 were discussing how easy it would be for In- 
 
TO THE LITTLE BIG HORN 36 
 
 ofi3 
 
 dians to fire, from thickets on the banks, at 
 fishermen and steamer, a big Indian, almost 
 naked, holding his gun over his head as a 
 sign of peace, suddenly rode out of the wil- 
 low thicket on the river bank. 
 
 Captain Marsh and the officers at once 
 recognized him as Curley, a Crow Scout, 
 who had gone with Custer. 
 
 Curley showed the greatest excitement, 
 but unfortunately he could not speak a word 
 of English and nobody on board understood 
 Crow, but everybody saw that he had impor- 
 tant news. 
 
 One of the officers gave him a pencil and a 
 piece of paper. 
 
 Curley lay down flat on the deck, drew a 
 circle and filled it with dots. 
 
 Then he drew a larger circle around the 
 first one and after he had made many dots in 
 the space between the two circles, he pointed 
 to the inner circle, and exclaimed wildly: 
 "Absaroka! Absaroka! Absaroka!" Then 
 he pointed to the outer circle and said: 
 " Sioux, Sioux, Sioux! " 
 
 Then, springing to his feet, he called out : 
 
364 THE THREAT OF SITTINa BULL 
 
 " Poof, poof, poof. Absaroka ! " made signs 
 of shooting while he pointed at his breast, 
 and then at his scalp lock, and made the ges- 
 tures of scalping and of a Sioux scalp dance. 
 
 "Absaroka!" exclaimed Captain Marsh. 
 " I know what that means! It is the Crow 
 word for both their own people and for sol- 
 diers." 
 
 It was clear now to everybody that there 
 had been a great battle, in which many sol- 
 diers had been killed. 
 
 When Curley grew a little more calm, he 
 tried to tell by signs the story of the great 
 battle. 
 
 There had been a big fight, in which thou- 
 sands of Sioux surrounded Custer and his 
 men. 
 
 Curley had been in the thick of it, and 
 when he saw that all was lost, he took two 
 blankets and tried to persuade Custer to 
 come away. Custer refused to leave his 
 men, but asked Curley to escape, if he 
 could. 
 
 Curley then pulled a blanket over his 
 head, so as to hide his Crow scalp lock, and 
 
TO THE LITTLE BIG HORN 365 
 
 in this disguise he mixed in with the Sioux. 
 There was so much noise and excitement 
 that the Sioux failed to recognize him. 
 Gradually he worked to the outer edge of 
 the madly excited Sioux hordes and escaped 
 into the sheltered valley of the Little Big 
 Horn. 
 
 Here he had concealed himself during the 
 hours of daylight, and by travelling do^vn 
 river with the greatest caution he had 
 reached the boat. 
 
 The distance from the battlefield, it was 
 found later, was only eleven miles, and Cur- 
 ley had been forty-four hours in reaching 
 the steamer. 
 
 As far as could be made out, Curley re- 
 ported that Custer and his whole regiment 
 were killed. 
 
 Captain Baker, in command of the sol- 
 diers on the boat, could not believe the awful 
 story, and tried to send Curley back with a 
 message to Custer; but Curley refused to 
 leave the steamer. 
 
 The Crow was known as a brave and reli- 
 able scout, and there was no longer any 
 
366 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 doubt that a great calamity had befallen the 
 soldiers of the Seventh Cavalry. 
 
 Curley refused to take food, but squatted 
 in a corner of the deck and began to sing the 
 death-song of his people. 
 
 The next morning, on Wednesday, a white 
 scout of Gibbon's command, known as Mug- 
 gins Taylor, stumbled on the boat, while he 
 was being hotly pursued by Indians. From 
 him the men on the steamer soon learned the 
 awful story of Custer's last fight. 
 
 Custer had struck a big Sioux camp on 
 the Little Big Horn on Sunday afternoon, 
 the 25th of June, and had at once prepared 
 to attack, the only thing he could do. 
 
 He divided his regiment, as he had done 
 on the Washita, into three battalions, one 
 under Benteen, one under Reno, and one of 
 about 200 men he led in person. 
 
 Reno was attacked by so strong a force of 
 Sioux that he failed to push the attack and 
 retreated to a strong position, while all his 
 Ree scouts fled. 
 
 The Sioux now left Reno, and all their 
 warriors attacked Custer. They very soon 
 
TO THE LITTLE BIG HORN 367 
 
 completely surrounded his battalion, and 
 every man was killed, including Custer him- 
 self, and his young brother, Boston Custer. 
 
 Shortly after midnight on Thursday 
 morning some fifty wounded soldiers were 
 brought to the steamer and all hands, in- 
 cluding Joe and Pete and their boys, made 
 the wounded men as comfortable as possible, 
 while Surgeons Williams and Porter exam- 
 ined and dressed their wounds. 
 
 The wounded men belonged to the com- 
 mands of Reno and Benteen. 
 
 From Custer's own command no white 
 man escaped alive, but a badly wounded 
 horse, Comanche, was brought to the boat 
 and recovered. 
 
 How Comanche escaped being killed or 
 captured has remained a mystery. He was 
 kept and cared for by the Seventh Cavalry 
 as long as he lived, but no man ever rode him 
 again after the battle on the Little Big 
 Horn» 
 
 The steamer Far West took the wounded 
 men to Fort Lincoln. 
 
 The boat reached Bismarck on the fifth 
 
268 THE THEEAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 of July and from there the story of Custer's 
 last fight with the Sioux was telegraphed to 
 St. Paul and New York. 
 
 Joe and Pete with their boys returned to 
 the Yellowstone in company of some soldiers 
 and arrived at Bozeman about a week later. 
 
 "Thank God!" exclaimed Pete, as they 
 entered the store of Thomas Stamford. 
 "Thank God, we came through it all! It 
 was the most dangerous journey in all my 
 life." 
 
 "And I pray," added Joe, "that the 
 greatest of all Indian wars may soon be 
 over! The Sioux, although they are sav- 
 ages, are a brave people, who deserve to own 
 in our great country a home, where they may 
 live in peace and learn to travel the white 
 man's road." 
 
 Much has been written of Custer's Last 
 Fight. The story of Curley has been 
 doubted, but it is most likely that this only 
 surviving eye-witness of the battle on Cus- 
 ter's side told a true story. 
 
 It has been claimed that Custer brought 
 disaster to his troop by disobeying the orders 
 
TO THE LITTLE BIG HORN 369 
 
 of General Terry. This is not the place to 
 judge a man who, both in the Civil War and 
 in years of fighting savage Indians, risked 
 his life many times, and filially laid it down 
 at the call of duty on the Little Big Horn. 
 
 The battle has often been called a mas- 
 sacre. It was not a massacre. It was a fair 
 fight between the soldiers who attacked and 
 the Sioux, who defended their village, and, 
 as they believed, their country reserved to 
 them by a solemn treaty. It may be that 
 the treaty of 1868 should not have been 
 made, but it was made. 
 
 The Sioux of the present day have begun 
 to travel the " white man's road." It has 
 been a hard road and a hard school for them. 
 Like most North American Indians, they 
 have been compelled to emerge from the 
 Stone Age into the Age of Steel and Steam 
 within a few centuries or even decades. 
 
 It has taken the white race several thou- 
 sand years to pass over the same road and 
 through the same school. 
 
 In the clash of races, the Indian has earned 
 our admiration. There is now no Sioux 
 
370 THE THREAT OF SITTING BULL 
 
 camp where a white man's life is not as safe 
 as in his own town. In the great World 
 War the young men of the Sioux nation 
 fought in the same trenches with the grand- 
 sons of the Seventh Cavalry. In all, about 
 10,000 Indians enlisted in the World War 
 and proved their valor. 
 
 There will be no more wars between white 
 men and red men. 
 
 On the battle-ground on the Little Big 
 Horn a monument has been erected to Cus- 
 ter and the men of his battalion. The monu- 
 ment will become a shrine and the battle- 
 ground a place of pilgrimage to those who 
 would do honor to the men whom duty called 
 to do battle against the most formidable 
 hosts of the Sioux. 
 
 THE END 
 
GENERAL LIBRARY 
 
938468 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY