The Watchers of the Plains: A Tale of the Western Prairies

by Ridgwell Cullum

  CHAPTER XV

  THE MOVEMENTS OF LITTLE BLACK FOX

  The woodlands on the northern side of the great Reservations of Dakotaamount almost to a forest. From Beacon Crossing, after entering the PineRidge Reservation, a man might travel the whole length of the Indianterritory without the slightest chance of discovery, even by the Indiansthemselves; that is, provided he be a good woodsman. And this is what Sethaccomplished. He did it without any seeming care or unusual caution. Butthen he was consummate in the necessary craft which is to be found onlyamongst the sons of the soil, and, even then, rarely outside the few whohave been associated with Indians all their lives.

  It was soon after sunrise on Monday morning that Seth found himself in theneighborhood of the principal Indian camp of the Rosebuds. Yet none hadseen him come. He was hidden in the midst of a wide, undergrown bluff.Directly in front of him, but with at least four hundred yards ofuninterrupted view intervening, was the house of Little Black Fox.

  Seth was not usually a hard rider--he was far too good a horseman--butwhen necessity demanded it he knew how to get the last ounce out of hishorse. He had left the farm on Saturday morning, and at midnight hadroused the postmaster of Beacon Crossing from his bed. Then, at the hotelof Louis Roiheim, he had obtained a fresh horse, and, by daylight onMonday morning, after traveling the distance through nothing but mazywoodland, had reached the locality of Little Black Fox's abode. Thus hehad covered something like one hundred and seventy miles in less thanforty-eight hours. Nor had he finished his work yet.

  Now he lay on the ground in the shadow of the close, heavy-foliaged brush,watching with alert, untiring eyes. Something of the Indian seemed to havegrown into the nature of this uncultured product of the prairie world. Hehad smothered the only chance of betrayal by blindfolding his horse, nowleft in the well-trained charge of the dog, General. For himself he gaveno sign. Not a leaf moved, nor a twig stirred where he lay. If he shiftedhis position it must have been done in the manner of the Indiansthemselves, for no sound resulted. He knew that a hundred pairs of eyeswould infallibly detect his presence at the least clumsy disturbance ofthe bush. For the Indian is like the bear in his native woods. He may beintent in another direction, but the disturbance of the leaves, howeverslight, in an opposite direction, will at once attract his attention.

  The squaws were astir at daylight. Now, as the sun rose, it becameapparent that there were many preparations going forward in the chief'squarters. There was a gathering of ponies in a corral hard by. Also thelong "trailers," already packed with tepee-poles and great bundles ofskins and blankets, were leaning against the walls of the corral.

  To Seth's practised eyes these things denoted an early departure; and, bythe number of ponies and the extent of the equipment, it was evidently tobe the going of a large party. But time went on, and no further move wasmade. Only all those who came and went seemed busy; not on account of whatthey did, but from their manner and movement. Through the greater part ofthe day Seth kept his sleepless watch. Only once did he abandon his post,and then merely to return to his horse to secure food from hissaddle-bags. When he rose to go thither it was to be seen that he wasfully armed, which had not been the case when he left the farm.

  Seth's arguments were as simple and straightforward as he was himself, andnone the less shrewd. The position was this. The Indians were in a stateof ferment, to which, of course, the chief was party. Second, the chiefwas going off on a hunting trip, and apparently abandoning his people at acritical time. Third, he had received warning of Rosebud's danger from onewhose knowledge and good-will could be relied on. Fourth, the warning hadcome to them, indirectly, from the one man who he now had every reason tosuspect had no very good-will toward Rosebud; but he also saw, or thoughthe saw, the reason of that warning. It was that this man might clearhimself should the chief's plans go wrong. These were Seth's arguments,and he intended to prove them by remaining on Little Black Fox's trailuntil he was assured that the danger to Rosebud no longer existed. It wasin the nature of the man that he had sought no outside aid, except that ofhis faithful General.

  The story the watcher read as he observed the Indians' movements was along one. The climax of it did not come until late in the afternoon, andthe conclusion not until an hour later.

  The climax was reached when he saw a tall figure coming up from thedirection of the bridge. A grim pursing of the lips lent a curiousexpression to the smile that this appearance brought to his face. The manwas clad in a blanket, and his gait was the gait of an Indian. There wasnothing to give any other impression to the casual observer. But Seth wasvery intent, and he saw the color of the man's face. It was then that hislips shut tight and his smile developed something tigerish in itsappearance.

  However, he remained quite still, and saw the man pass into the chief'shouse. He did not reappear for a full half-hour. When at last he came outhe departed at once the way he had come. Half an hour later the chief'sponies, a number of squaws, and the baggage, set out accompanied by half adozen mounted bucks. Another half-hour and Little Black Fox appeared andvaulted to the back of his waiting pony. A dozen warriors joined himalmost at the same moment, gathering from different directions, and thechief rode off at their head.

  Then it was that Seth rose from his hiding-place. He stood watching thegoing of these men until he had made sure of the direction they weretaking. They were making for the river ford, and he instantly ran back tohis horse and mounted. Just for a second he hesitated. Then he set off forthe wagon bridge as fast as he could urge his horse.

  It was late the same afternoon that Charlie Rankin rode up to the RiverFarm and greeted Rube, who was hard at work upon the stockade. He was alarge, cheery Britisher, with a florid face and ready laugh. He drew upwith a jerk, sprang to the ground, and began talking with the perfectfreedom of long friendship.

  "I've passed the word, Rube," he said, without any preamble. "It's gonethe round by this time. I thought I'd run over and consult you about thewomenfolk. I'm new to this work. You are an old bird. I thought of sendingthe missis into Beacon."

  Rube paused in his work and surveyed the horizon, while, in his slow way,he wiped the perspiration from his weather-furrowed face.

  "Howdy, Charlie," he said, without displaying the least concern. "Wal, Idon't know. Y' see this thing's li'ble to fizzle some. We've had 'embefore. Guess my missis an' the gal'll stay right here by us. I 'low Ifeel they're safer wi' us. Mebbe it's jest a notion. If things gitshummin' I'd say come right along over an' share in wi' us. Y' see if it'sa case of git, we'd likely do better in a party. Seth's away jest now."

  The old man's quiet assurance was pleasant to the less experienced farmer.There was soundness in his plans too. Charlie nodded.

  "That's good of you. Of course, we've got the warning, but we don't knowhow far things are moving. Do you?"

  "Wal, no. But I don't think ther's anything to worry over fer a week ortwo."

  "I thought there couldn't be, because I saw your Rosebud riding downtoward the river as I came along. And yet----"

  But Rube broke in upon him vehemently.

  "Goin' to the river?" he cried. Then his usual slow movements suddenlybecame electrical. He strode away to the barn, and left Charlie tofollow.

  "What's up?" the latter asked, as he paused in the doorway.

  "Up? Up? What's up?" The old man was saddling a big raw-boned mare withalmost feverish haste. "She's no right goin' that aways. An' I promisedSeth, too. I didn't know but what she wus in the kitchen. Here, fix thatbridle while I get into the house. Ha' y' got your gun?"

  "Yes; but why?"

  "Wal--y' never can figger to these durned Injuns when they're raisin'trouble."

  The old man was off like a shot, while Charlie fixed the great mare'sbridle. He returned almost immediately armed with a brace of guns.

  "Say, ken y' spare an hour or so?"

  As Charlie looked into the old farmer's face when he made his reply heread the answer to all he would have liked to ask him. Rube was consumedw
ith an anxiety that no words, delivered in his slow fashion, could haveconveyed to any one but Seth.

  "Certainly, as long as you like."

  "Good boy," said Rube, with an air of relief. "I wouldn't ask you, butit's fer her." And the two men rode off hastily, with Rube leading.

  "By-the-way," said Charlie, drawing his horse up alongside the dun-coloredmare, "Joe Smith, north of us, says some neighbor of his told him therewere tents on the plains further north. I was wondering. The troopshaven't been sent for, have they?"

  "Can't say," said Rube, without much interest. Then he asked hastily,"Which way was she headin'?"

  The question showed the trend of his whole thought.

  "Why, straight down."

  "Ah, Nevil Steyne's shack."

  "He lives that way, doesn't he?"

  "Yes."

  The two men rode on in silence. This was the first time Charlie had everseen Rube disturbed out of his deliberate manner. He made a mental resolveto bring his wife and children into White River Farm at the first sign ofactual danger.