The Way of a Man

by Emerson Hough

  CHAPTER XVI

  BUFFALO!

  Before dawn had broken, the clear bugle notes of reveille sounded andset the camp astir. Presently the smokes of the cook fires arose, and inthe gray light we could see the horse-guards bringing in the mounts. Bythe time the sun was faintly tinging the edge of the valley we weredrawn up for hot coffee and the plain fare of the prairies. A half hourlater the wagon masters called "Roll out! Roll out!" The bugles againsounded for the troopers to take saddle, and we were under way oncemore.

  Thus far we had seen very little game in our westward journeying, a fewantelope and occasional wolves, but none of the herds of buffalo whichthen roamed the Western plains. The monotony of our travel was to bebroken now. We had hardly gone five miles beyond the ruined stationhouse--which we passed at a trot, so that none might know what hadhappened there--when we saw our advance men pull up and raise theirhands. We caught it also--the sound of approaching hoofs, and all joinedin the cry, "Buffalo! Buffalo!" In an instant every horseman waspressing forward.

  The thunderous rolling sound approached, heavy as that of artillerygoing into action. We saw dust arise from the mouth of a little draw onthe left, running down toward the valley, and even as we turned therecame rolling from its mouth, with the noise of a tornado and the mightof a mountain torrent, a vast, confused, dark mass, which rapidlyspilled out across the valley ahead of us. Half hid in the dust of theirgoing, we could see great dark bulks rolling and tossing. Thus it was,and close at hand, that I saw for the first time in my life these hugecreatures whose mission seemed to have been to support an uncivilizedpeople, and to make possible the holding by another race of those landslate held as savage harvest grounds.

  We were almost at the flanks of the herd before they reached the riverbank. We were among them when they paused stupidly, for some reason notwishing to cross the stream. The front ranks rolled back upon thosebehind, which, crowded from the rear, resisted. The whole front of themass wrinkled up mightily, dark humps arising in some places two orthree deep. Then the entire mass sensed the danger all at once, and withas much unanimity as they had lacked concert in their late confusion,they wheeled front and rear, and rolled off up the valley, stillenveloped in a cloud of white, biting dust.

  In such a chase speed and courage of one's horse are the mainessentials. My horse, luckily for me, was able to lay me alongside mygame within a few hundred yards. I coursed close to a big black bulland, obeying injunctions old Auberry had often given me, did not touchthe trigger until I found I was holding well forward and rather low. Icould scarcely hear the crack of the rifle, such was the noise of hoofs,but I saw the bull switch his tail and push on as though unhurt, inspite of the trickle of red which sprung on his flank. As I followedon, fumbling for a pistol at my holster, the bull suddenly turned, headdown and tail stiffly erect, his mane bristling. My horse sprang aside,and the herd passed on. The old bull, his head lowered, presentlystopped, deliberately eying us, and a moment later he deliberately laydown, presently sinking lower, and at length rolled over dead.

  I got down, fastening my horse to one of the horns of the dead bull. AsI looked up the valley, I could see others dismounted, and many vastdark blotches on the gray. Here and there, where the pursuers still hungon, blue smoke was cutting through the white. Certainly we would havemeat that day, enough and far more than enough. The valley was full ofcarcasses, product of the wasteful white man's hunting. Later I learnedthat old Mandy, riding a mule astride, had made the run and killed abuffalo with her own rifle!

  I found the great weight of the bull difficult to turn, but at length Ihooked one horn into the ground, and laying hold of the lower hind leg,I actually turned the carcass on its back. I was busy skinning when myold friend Auberry rode up.

  "That's the first time I ever saw a bull die on his back," said he.

  "He did not die on his back," I replied. "I turned him over."

  "You did--and alone? It's rarely a single man could do that, nor have Iseen it done in all my life with so big a bull."

  I laughed at him. "It was easy. My father and I once lifted a loadedwagon out of the mud."

  "The Indians," said Auberry, "don't bother to turn a bull over. Theysplit the hide down the back, and skin both ways. The best meat is ontop, anyhow"; and then he gave me lessons in buffalo values, which laterI remembered.

  We had taken some meat from my bull, since I insisted upon it in spiteof better beef from a young cow Auberry had killed not far above, whensuddenly I heard the sound of a bugle, sharp and clear, and recognizedthe notes of the "recall." The sergeant of our troop, with a smallnumber who did not care to hunt, had been left behind by Belknap'shurried orders. Again and again we heard the bugle call, and now at oncesaw coming down the valley the men of our little command.

  "What's up?" inquired Auberry, as we pulled up our galloping horses nearthe wagon line.

  "Indians!" was the answer. "Fall in!" In a moment most of our men weregathered at the wagon line, and like magic the scene changed.

  We could all now see coming down from a little flattened coulee to theleft, a head of a line of mounted men, who doubtless had been the causeof the buffalo stampede which had crossed in front of us. The shouts ofteamsters and the crack of whips punctuated the crunch of wheels as ourwagons swiftly swung again into stockade. The ambulance was hurriedlydriven into the center of the heavier wagons, which formed in a rudehalf circle.

  After all, there seemed no immediate danger. The column of the tribesmencame on toward us fearlessly, as though they neither dreaded us norindeed recognized us. They made a long calvacade, two hundred horses ormore, with many travaux and dogs trailing on behind. They were all cladin their native finery, seemingly hearty and well fed, and each asarrogant as a king. They passed us contemptuously, with not a sidelongglance.

  In advance of the head men who rode foremost in the column were three orfour young women, bearing long lance shafts decorated with feathers andlocks of human hair, the steel tips shining gray in the sun. These youngwomen, perhaps not squires or heralds of the tribe, but wives of one ormore of the head men, were decorated with brass and beads and shiningthings, their hair covered with gauds, their black eyes shining too,though directed straight ahead. Their garb was of tanned leather, thetunics or dresses were of elk skin, and the white leggins of antelopehide or that of mountain sheep. Their buffalo hide moccasins werehandsomely beaded and stained. As they passed, followed by the longtrain of stalwart savage figures, they made a spectacle strange andsavage, but surely not less than impressive.

  Not a word was spoken on either side. The course of their column tookthem to the edge of the water a short distance above us. They drovetheir horses down to drink scrambled up the bank again, and thenpresently, in answer to some sort of signal, quietly rode on a quarterof a mile or so and pulled up at the side of the valley. They sawabundance of meat lying there already killed, and perhaps guessed thatwe could not use all of it.

  "Auberry," said Belknap, "we must go talk to these people, and seewhat's up."

  "They're Sioux!" said Auberry. "Like enough the very devils that cleanedout the station down there. But come on; they don't mean fight rightnow."

  Belknap and Auberry took with them the sergeant and a dozen troopers. Ipushed in with these, and saw Orme at my side; and Belknap did not sendus back. We four rode on together presently. Two or three hundred yardsfrom the place where the Indians halted, Auberry told Belknap to halthis men. We four, with one private to hold our horses, rode forward ahundred yards farther, halted and raised our hands in sign of peace.There rode out to us four of the head men of the Sioux, beautifullydressed, each a stalwart man. We dismounted, laid down our weapons onthe ground, and approached each other.

  "Watch them close, boys," whispered Auberry. "They've got plenty ofirons around them somewhere, and plenty of scalps, too, maybe."

  "Talk to them, Auberry," said Belknap; and as the former was the onlyone of us who understood the Sioux tongue, he acted as interpreter.

  "What
are the Sioux doing so far east?" he asked of their spokesman,sternly.

  "Hunting," answered the Sioux, as Auberry informed us. "The whitesoldiers drive away our buffalo. The white men kill too many. Let themgo. This is our country." It seemed to me I could see the black eyes ofthe Sioux boring straight through every one of us, glittering, not inthe least afraid.

  "Go back to the north and west, where you belong," said Auberry. "Youhave no business here on the wagon trails."

  "The Sioux hunt where they please," was the grim answer. "But you see wehave our women and children with us, the same as you have--and hepointed toward our camp, doubtless knowing the personnel of our party aswell as we did ourselves.

  "Where are you going?" asked our interpreter.

  The Sioux waved his arm vaguely. "Heap hunt," he said, in broken Englishnow. "Where you go?" he asked, in return.

  Auberry was also a diplomat, and answered that we were going a halfsleep to the west, to meet a big war party coming down the Platte, thewhite men from Laramie.

  The Indian looked grave at this. "Is that so?" he asked, calmly. "I hadnot any word from my young men about a war party coming down the river.Many white tepees on wheels going up the river; no soldiers coming downthis way."

  "We are going on up to meet our soldiers," said Auberry, sternly. "TheSioux have killed some of our men below here. We shall meet our soldiersand come and wipe the Sioux off the land if they come into the valleywhere our great road runs west."

  "That is good," said the Sioux. "As for us, we harm no white man. Wehunt where we please. White men go!"

  Auberry now turned to us. "I don't think they mean trouble, Lieutenant,"he said, "and I think the best thing we can do is to let them alone andgo on up the valley. Let's go on and pull on straight by them, the waythey did us, and call it a draw all around."

  Belknap nodded, and Auberry turned again to the four Sioux, who stoodtall and motionless, looking at us with the same fixed, glittering eyes.I shall remember the actors in that little scene so long as I live.

  "We have spoken," said Auberry. "That is all we have to say."

  Both parties turned and went back to their companions. Belknap, Auberryand I had nearly reached our waiting troopers, when we missed Orme, andturned back to see where he was. He was standing close to the fourchiefs, who had by this time reached their horses. Orme was leading bythe bridle his own horse, which was slightly lame from a strain receivedin the hunt.

  "Some buck'll slip an arrer into him, if he don't look out," saidAuberry. "He's got no business out there."

  We saw Orme making some sort of gestures, pointing to his horse and theothers.

  "Wonder if he wants to trade horses!" mused Auberry, chuckling. Then inthe same breath he called, "Look out! By God! Look!"

  We all saw it. Orme's arm shot out straight, tipped by a blue puff ofsmoke, and we heard the crack of the dragoon pistol. One of the Sioux,the chief who by this time had mounted his horse, threw his hand againsthis chest and leaned slightly back, then straightened up slightly as hesat. As he fell, or before he fell, Orme pushed his body clear from thesaddle, and with a leap was in the dead man's place and riding swiftlytoward us, leading his own horse by the rein!

  It seemed that it was the Sioux who had kept faith after all; for noneof the remaining three could find a weapon. Orme rode up laughing andunconcerned. "The beggar wouldn't trade with me at all," he said. "ByJove, I believe he'd have got me if he'd had any sort of tools for it."

  "You broke treaty!" ejaculated Belknap--"you broke the council word."

  "Did that man make the first break at you?" Auberry blazed at him.

  "How can I tell?" answered Orme, coolly. "It's well to be a trifle aheadin such matters." He seemed utterly unconcerned. He could kill a man aslightly as a rabbit, and think no more about it.

  Within the instant the entire party of the Sioux was in confusion. Wesaw them running about, mounting, heard them shouting and wailing.

  "It's fight now!" said Auberry. "Back to the wagons now and get your menready, Lieutenant. As soon as the Sioux can get shut of their women,they'll come on, and come a boilin', too. You damned fool!" he said toOrme. "You murdered that man!"

  "What's that, my good fellow?" said Orme, sharply. "Now I advise you tokeep a civil tongue in your head, or I'll teach you some manners."

  Even as we swung and rode back, Auberry pushed alongside Orme, his rifleat ready. "By God! man, if you want to teach _me_ any manners, begin itnow. You make your break," he cried.

  Belknap spurred in between them. "Here, you men," he commanded withswift sternness. "Into your places. I'm in command here, and I'll shootthe first man who raises a hand. Mr. Orme, take your place at thewagons. Auberry, keep with me. We'll have fighting enough withoutanything of this."

  "He murdered that Sioux, Lieutenant," reiterated Auberry.

  "Damn it, sir, I know he did, but this is no time to argue about that.Look there!"

  A long, ragged, parti-colored line, made up of the squaws and childrenof the party, was whipping up the sides of the rough bluffs on the leftof the valley. We heard wailing, the barking of dogs, the crying ofchildren. We saw the Sioux separate thus into two bands, the menremaining behind riding back and forth, whooping and holding aloft theirweapons. We heard the note of a dull war drum beating the clacking oftheir rattles and the shrill notes of their war whistles.

  "They'll fight," said Auberry. "Look at 'em!"

  "Here they come," said Belknap, coolly. "Get down, men."

  AT EVERY TURN FORCED TO HIDE THEIR TRACKS]