Ruth Fielding in the Great Northwest; Or, The Indian Girl Star of the Movies
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CHAPTER XIV
THE HUBBELL RANCH
"You see, Miss Ruth," Mr. Hammond told the girl of the Red Mill as thespecial car rolled out of the railroad yard, "this Dakota Joe has becomea very annoying individual. We had to fairly run away from him."
"I do not understand," Ruth said. "I think he should be shown hisplace--and that place I believe is the police station."
"It would be rather difficult to get him into that for any length oftime. And in any case," and the picture producer smiled, it would costmore than it would be worth. He really has done nothing for which he canbe punished--"
"I don't know. He might have had me killed that time his auto ran medown," interrupted Ruth, indignantly.
"But the trouble is, we cannot prove that," Mr. Hammond hastened torepeat. "I will see that you are fully protected from him hereafter."
Mr. Hammond did not realize what a large undertaking that was to be.But he meant it at the time.
"The man is in trouble--no doubt of it," went on the producerreflectively. "He has had a bad season, and his winter prospects are notbright. I gave him an hour of my time yesterday before I advised youthat we would better get away from Chicago."
"But what does he expect of you, Mr. Hammond?" asked Ruth in surprise.
"He claims we are the cause of his unhappy business difficulties. Hisshow in on the verge of disintegrating. He wanted me to back him withseveral thousand dollars. Of course, that is impossible."
"Why!" cried Ruth, "I would not risk a cent with such a man."
"I suppose not. And I felt no urge to comply with his request. He wasreally so rough about it, and became so ugly, that I had to have himshown out of the house."
"Goodness! I am glad we are going far away from him."
"Yes, he is not a nice neighbor," agreed Mr. Hammond. "I hope Wonotawill repay us for all the bother we have had with Dakota Joe."
"It seems too bad. Of course, it is not Wonota's fault," said Ruth. "Butif we had not come across her--if I had not met her, I mean--you wouldnot have been annoyed in this way, Mr. Hammond."
"Take it the other way around, Miss Ruth," returned her friend, with aquizzical smile. "We should be very glad that you did meet Wonota.Considering what that mad bull would have done to you if she had notswerved him by a rifle shot, a little bother like this is a small priceto pay."
"Oh--well!"
"In addition," said Mr. Hammond briskly, "look what we may make out ofthe Indian girl. She may coin us a mint of money, Ruth Fielding."
"Perhaps," smiled Ruth.
But she was not so eager for money. The thing that fascinated herimagination was the possibility that they might make of Wonota, theOsage maiden, a great and famous movie star. Ruth desired very much tohave a part in that work.
She knew, because Mr. Hammond had told her, as well as Wonota herself,that the Osage Indians as a tribe were the wealthiest people under theguardianship of the American Government. Their oil leases were fastbringing the tribe a great fortune. But Wonota, being under age, had noshare in this wealth. At this time the income of the tribe was betweenfour and five thousand dollars a day--and the tribe was not large.
"But Wonota can have none of that," explained the Indian maid. "It isapportioned to the families, and Totantora, the head of my family, issomewhere in that Europe where the war is. I can get no share of themoney. It is not allowed."
So, with the incentive of getting money for her search, Wonota wasdesirous of pleasing her white friends in every particular. Besides,ambition had budded in the girl's heart. She wanted to be a screenactress.
"If your 'Brighteyes,' Miss Fielding, is ever shown at Three RiversStation or Pawhuska, where the Agency is, I know every member of thetribe will go to see the film. When some of the young men of our tribeacted in a round-up picture when I was a little girl, even the old menand great-grandmothers traveled a hundred miles to see the film run off.It was like an exodus, for some of them were two days and nights on theway"
"The Osage Indians are not behind the times, then?" laughed Ruth. "Theyare movie fans?"
"They realize that their own day has departed. The buffalo and elk havegone. Even the prairie chickens are seen but seldom. Almost no game isfound upon our plains, and not much back in the hills. Many of our youngmen till the soil. Some have been to the Carlisle School and have takenup professions or are teachers. The Osage people are no longer warlike.But some of our young men volunteered for this white man's war."
"I know that," sad Ruth warmly. "I saw some of them over there inFrance--at least, some Indian volunteers. Captain Cameron worked in theIntelligence Service with some of them. That is the spy service, youknow. The Indians were just as good scouts in France and Belgium as theywere on their own plains."
"We are always the same. It is only white men who change," declaredWonota with confidence. "The redman is never two-faced or two-tongued."
"Well," grumbled Jennie, afterward, "what answer was there to make tothat? She has her own opinion of Lo, the poor Indian, and it would beimpossible to shake it."
"Who wants to shake it?" demanded Helen. "Maybe she is right, at that!"
The thing about Wonota that "gave the fidgets" to Jennie and Helen wasthe fact that she could sit for mile after mile, while the train rockedover the rails, beading moccasins and other wearing apparel, and withscarcely a glance out of the car window. Towns, villages, rivers,plains, woods and hills, swept by in green and brown panorama, andseemed to interest Wonota not at all. It was only when the train, afterthey changed at Denver, began to climb into the Rockies that the Indianmaid grew interested.
The Osage Indians had always been a plains' tribe. The rugged andwhite-capped heights interested Wonota because they were strange toher. Here, too, were primeval forests visible from the windows of thecar. Hemlock and spruce in black masses clothed the mountainsides, whilebare-limbed groves of other wood filled the valleys and the sweeps ofthe hills.
Years before Ruth and her two chums had been through this country ingoing to "Silver Ranch," but the charm of its mysterious gorges, itstottering cliffs, its deep canyons where the dashing waters flowed, andthe generally rugged aspect of all nature, did not fail now to awe them.Wonota was not alone in gazing, enthralled, at the landscape which washere revealed.
Two days of this journey amid the mountains, and the train slowed downat Clearwater, where the special car was sidetracked. Although thestation was some distance from the "location" Mr. Hammond'srepresentative had selected for the taking of the outdoor pictures, thecompany was to use the car as its headquarters. There were severalautomobiles and a herd of riding ponies at hand for the use of thecompany. Here, too, Mr. Hammond and his companions were met by theremainder of the performers selected to play parts in "Brighteyes."
There were about twenty riders--cowpunchers and the like; "stuntriders," for the most part. In addition there were more than a score ofIndians--some pure blood like Wonota, but many of them halfbreeds, andall used to the moving picture work, down to the very toddlers clingingto their mothers' blankets. The Osage princess was inclined to lookscornfully at this hybrid crew at first. Finally, however, she foundthem to be very decent sort of folk, although none of them were of hertribe.
Ruth and Helen and Jennie met several riders who had worked for Mr.Hammond when he had made Ruth's former Western picture which isdescribed in "Ruth Fielding in the Saddle," and the gallant Westernerswere ready to devote themselves to the entertainment of the girls fromthe East.
There was only one day of planning and making ready for the picture, inwhich Helen and Jennie could be "beaued" about by the cow-punchers. Ruthwas engaged with Mr. Hammond, Jim Hooley, and the camera man and theirassistants. Everyone was called for work on the ensuing morning and theautomobiles and the cavalcade of pony-riders started for the HubbellRanch.
Wonota rode in costume and upon a pony that was quite the equal of herown West Wind. This pet she had shipped from the Red Mill to her home inOklahoma before going to New York. The principal c
haracters had made upat the car and went out in costume, too, They had to travel about tenmiles to the first location.
The Hubbell Ranch grazed some steers; but It was a horse ranch inparticular. The country was rugged and offered not very good pasturagefor cattle. But the stockman, Arad Hubbell, was one of the largestshippers of horses and mules in the state.
It was because of the many half-broken horses and mules to be had on theranch that Mr. Hammond had decided to make "Brighteyes" here. The firstscenes of the prologue--including the Indian scare--were to be taken inthe open country near the ranch buildings. Naturally the buildings werenot included in any of the pictures.
A train of ten emigrant wagons, drawn by mules, made an imposing showingas it followed the dusty cattle trail. The train wound in and out ofcoulees, through romantic-looking ravines, and finally out upon the flatgrass-country where the Indians came first into view of the supposedlyfrightened pilgrims.
Helen and Jennie, as well as Ruth herself, in the gingham and sunbonnetsof the far West of that earlier day, added to the crowd of emigrantsriding in the wagons. When the Indians were supposed to appear theexcitement of the players was very realistic indeed, and this includedthe mules! The stock was all fresh, and the excitement of the humanperformers spread to it. The wagons raced over the rough trail in a waythat shook up severely the girls riding in them.
"Oh--oo!" squealed Jennie Stone, clinging to Ruth and Helen. "What _are_they trying to do? I'll be one m-a-ass of bruises!"
"Stop, William!" commanded Ruth, trying to make the driver of theirwagon hear her. "This is too--too realistic."
The man did not seem to hear her at all. Ruth scrambled up and staggeredtoward the front, although Mr. Hooley had instructed the girls to remainat the rear of the wagons so that they could be seen from the placewhere the cameras were stationed.
"Stop!" cried Ruth again. "You will tip us over--or something."
There was good reason why William did not obey. His six mules had brokenaway from his control entirely.
A man must be a master driver to hold the reins over three span ofmules; and William was as good as any man in the outfit. But as he gothis team into a gallop the leaders took fright at the charging Indianson pony-back, and tried to leave the trail.
William was alone on the driver's seat. He put all his strength into anattempt to drag the leaders back into the trail and--the rein broke!
Under ordinary circumstances this accident would not have been of muchmoment. But to have pulled the other mules around, and so throw therunaways, would have spoiled the picture. William was too old a movieworker to do that.
When Ruth stumbled to the front of the swaying wagon and seized hisshoulder he cast rather an embarrassed glance back at her.
"Stop them! Stop!" the girl commanded.
"I'd like mighty well to do it, Miss Fielding," said William, wagginghis head, "but these dratted mules have got their headsand--they--ain't---no notion o' stoppin' this side of the ranchcorrals."
Ruth understood him. She stared straight ahead with a gaze that becamealmost stony. This leading wagon was heading for the break of a ravineinto which the trail plunged at a sharp angle. If the mules were swervedat the curve the heavy wagon would surely overturn.
In twenty seconds the catastrophe would happen!