Front Cover
 Half Title
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 List of Illustrations
 "The bullet had passed startlingly...
 "He's up to some mischief, I'll...
 "There are fifty hostiles"
 "We are enemies"
 "What will be their next step?...
 "Ay, where were they?"
 "It came like one of them Kansan...
 "The bucks were coming up alarmingly...
 "He has made his last scout"
 "Oh, there is Wolf Ear!"
 "I'm off! Good-bye!"
 What happened to Wolf Ear
 Back Matter
 Back Cover

Group Title: Wolf Ear the Indian : : a story of the Great Uprising of 1890-91
Title: Wolf Ear the Indian
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00087081/00001
 Material Information
Title: Wolf Ear the Indian a story of the Great Uprising of 1890-91
Physical Description: 155, 8 p., 6 leaves of plates : ill. ; 19 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Ellis, Edward Sylvester, 1840-1916
Pearse, Alfred ( Illustrator )
Cassell & Company
Belle Sauvage Works ( Printer )
Publisher: Cassell and Co.
Place of Publication: London ;
Paris ;
New York ;
Manufacturer: La Belle Sauvage
Publication Date: 1898
Subject: Youth -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Courage -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Dakota Indians -- Wars, 1890-1891 -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Indians of North America -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Hunters -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Outdoor life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Loyalty -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Youth and death -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Publishers' catalogues -- 1898   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1898
Genre: Publishers' catalogues   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
France -- Paris
United States -- New York -- New York
Australia -- Melbourne
Statement of Responsibility: by Edward S. Ellis ; with four full-page illus. by Alfred Pearse.
General Note: Publisher's catalogue precedes and follows text.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00087081
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002398690
notis - AMA3610
oclc - 259990334

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
        Front Cover 3
    Half Title
        Page i
        Page ii
    Title Page
        Page iii
        Page iv
    Table of Contents
        Page v
        Page vi
    List of Illustrations
        Page vii
        Page 8
    "The bullet had passed startlingly near him"
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 20a
    "He's up to some mischief, I'll warrant"
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
    "There are fifty hostiles"
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 36a
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
    "We are enemies"
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
    "What will be their next step?"
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 60a
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
    "Ay, where were they?"
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
    "It came like one of them Kansan cyclones"
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
    "The bucks were coming up alarmingly fast"
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 102a
        Page 103
    "He has made his last scout"
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
    "Oh, there is Wolf Ear!"
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 128a
    "I'm off! Good-bye!"
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
    What happened to Wolf Ear
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
    Back Matter
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
        Page 172
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
        Back Cover 3
Full Text


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" I'M OFF GOOD-BYE (p. 141).





Author of Captured by Indians," The Boy Hunters of
Xentucky," etc. etc.



[This Story originally appeared
in LrnTrL FOLKS.]























"I'M OFF! GoOD-BYE!" .




. 104

. 116

. 129

S 142




" HEU AII !"











BEFORE relating to my young friends the incidents
which follow, I think a few words of explanation
will help them.
Perhaps some of you share the general mis-
take that the American Indians are dying out.
This is not the fact. There are to-day more red
men in the United. States than ever before. In
number, they exceed a quarter of a million, and
though they do not increase as fast as the whites,
still they are increasing.
It is true that a great many tribes have disap-
peared, while others that were once numerous and
powerful have dwindled to a few hundreds; but
on the other hand, tribes that were hardly known
a century ago now include thousands.
The many wars between the United States and
the Indians have been caused, almost without ex-


ception, by gross injustice towards the red men.
They have been wronged in every way, until in
their rage they turned against their oppressors.
The sad fact at such times is that the ones who
have used them so ill generally escape harm, while
the innocent suffer. The Indian reasons that it
is the white race that has wronged him, so he does
them all the injury he can, without caring whether
the one whom he slays has had a hand in his own
The Indian, like all savages, is very superstitious.
He loves to think over the time, hundreds of years
ago, when the red men roamed over the whole
continent from ocean to ocean. He dreams of
those days, and believes they will again return-
that the pale faces will be driven into the sea, and
the vast land become the hunting ground of the
Some years ago this strange faith took a won-
derfully strong hold upon those people. The belief
spread that a Messiah was coming in the spring
of 1891, who would destroy the pale faces and give
all the country back to the red men. They began
holding wild dances, at which the dancers took
hold of hands and leaped and shouted and circled


round and round until they dropped to the ground,
senseless and almost dead. These "ghost dances,"
as they were called, were carried on to please the
new Messiah. When the dancers recovered, they
told strange stories of having visited the other
world. All who listened believed them.
The craze spread like wildfire, and before the
Government understood what was going on, the
Indians were making ready for war. They were
well armed, eager to attack the whites. The prin-
cipal tribe was the Dakota or Sioux, the most
powerful on the American continent.
The leading chief or medicine man was Sitting
Bull He was a bad man who had made trouble
for more than twenty years. He could not endure
the white men, and, when not actively engaged
against them, was thinking out some scheme of evil.
As soon as the new Messiah craze broke out,
he turned it to account. He sent his friends among
the tribes and urged them to unite in a general
war against the whites. The officers and soldiers
were very patient, and did their best to soothe the
red men, but matters grew worse and worse. Trouble
was sure to come if Sitting Bull were allowed to
keep up his mischievous work.


So it was decided to arrest him. In the attempt
several people were killed, among them Sitting
Bull himself. Danger still threatened, and many
believed that it would require a great battle to sub-
due the Indians.
Now, if you will look at your map of the United
States, you will notice that the Missouri River runs
across the middle of the new State of South Dakota.
On the southern boundary of the State, a large
tract of land, reaching one-third of the way west-
ward to Wyoming, and with the White River
forming in a general way the northern boundary,
makes what is known as an Indian reservation.
There are many of these in the West. They
belong to the Indians, and the Government has an
agency at each, to see that no white people intrude.
The Indians are forbidden to leave these reserva-
tions without obtaining permission, and at the agen-
cies they receive the annuities or supplies paid to
them by the United States Government for the
lands elsewhere which they have given up.
Half of the reservation directly west of the
Missouri is the Rosebud Agency, and the other half
the Pine Ridge Agency. It was at the latter that
the grave trouble threatened.


When the discontent was so general, the danger
extended hundreds of miles north and west. That
section is thinly settled, and the pioneers were in
great peril Most of them hurried to the nearest
forts for safety, while others waited, hoping the
cloud would soon pass by.
If your map of South Dakota is a complete one,
it will show you a small stream to the westward
of Pine Ridge, named Raccoon Creek, a tributary
of Cherry Creek, itself a branch of the Big Cheyenne
At the time of the troubles, the Kingsland
family, consisting of Hugh, a man in middle life,
his wife Molly, his daughter Edith, eight years old,
and his son Brinton, a little more than double her
age, were living on Raccoon Creek.
The family had emigrated thither three years
before from Kansas, and all would have gone well
in their new home, but for the illness of Mr.
Something in the climate disagreed with him,
though the rest of the family throve. He was
first brought low with chills and fever, which after
several months' obstinate fight finally left him weak
and dispirited. Then, when he was fairly recovered,


the slipping of an axe in his hands so wounded his
foot that he was laid up for fully two months more.
It looked as if ill-fortune was to follow him so
long at least as he stayed in South Dakota, for
sickness, accident, and misfortune succeeded each
other, until he would have despaired but for those
around him.
His wife was well fitted to be the helpmate of
a pioneer, for she was hopeful, industrious, strong,
and brave. She carefully nursed him, making light
of their afflictions, and declaring that all would
soon come right, and that prosperity would prove
the sweeter from having been deferred so long.
Edith, bright-eyed, pretty, affectionate and loving,
was the comfort of those hours which otherwise
would have been intolerably dismal, when confined
in his small humble home. He read to and taught
her, told her delightful fairy stories, listened to
her innocent prattle and exchanged the sweetest
of confidences.
Sometimes Hugh Kingsland wondered after all
whether he was not the most fortunate individual in
the world in being thus blessed in his family relations.
And there was another from whom the meed
of praise must not be withheld. That was Brinton,


now close upon seventeen years of age. The ill-
fortune to which we have alluded made him in
one sense the virtual head of the family. He was
strong, cheerful, and resembled his mother in his
hopeful disposition. The difficulties in which his
father was continually involved brought out the
real manhood of his nature. He looked after the
cattle and live stock, galloped across the plains to
Hermosa, Fairburn, Rapid City, and other points
for supplies or on other business, or, fording the
Big Cheyenne, White, and smaller streams, crossed
the reservation to Pine Ridge.
The youth was indispensable, and did his work
so well, that the father, in his occasional moments
of rallying, remarked that he thought of continuing
to play the sick man, since it was proved that he
was of no account.
"I hope you will soon become well," said the
red-cheeked lad one evening, as the group gathered
around the fire; "but stay here in the house as
long as you wish, for mother and Edith and I can
get along without your help."
Yes, husband; don't fret over that. Only
become well, and until you do so, be assured that
everything is going along as it should."


"I have never had a doubt of that; but, ah
me," he added with a sigh, "this is tiresome after
all, especially when it begins to look as though I
shall never be well again."
"For my part," said Edith very earnestly, "1
don't want you to get well, and I am praying that
you will not."
"Why, Edith!" exclaimed the mother reproach-
fully, while her brother did not know whether to
laugh or be shocked at the odd expression. As
for the father, he laughed more heartily than he
had done for weeks.
Edith looked wonderingly in their faces, and
felt that some explanation was due to them.
"I mean to say-that is I don't mean anything
bad, but if papa gets well enough to ride out to
look after the cattle, and is working all day, why,
I won't have anyone to tell me stories and read
to me and do so many funny things."
"Your explanation is satisfactory," said her father,
smiling. "I shall have to stay in the house
for some weeks-that is certain, and perhaps
"Oh, I am so glad!"
But with the first clapping of the chubby hands,


Edith. realized that she was doing wrong again, and
she added in a gentler voice-
"If papa feels bad when he is ill then I am
sorry for him, and will pray every night and morning
that he may get well"
It was winter time, and the Kingslands in their
humble home could not be ignorant of the alarming
state of affairs around them. They had been urged
to come into the agency while it was safe to do so,
for the revolt among the Indians was spreading,
and there was no saying when escape would be cut
off. The family had considered the question with
the seriousness due to so important a matter.
Naturally, they were reluctant to abandon their
home now, for it would be virtually throwing away
everything they owned in the world; but when it
became a question of life and death, there could
be no hesitation.
On the very night, however, that the decision
to remove to the agency was made, Sergeant Victor
Parkhurst, who was out on a scout, with a squad
of men from Pine Ridge, called at their home and
stated his belief that no trouble would occur. He
said it would be better if the family were at Pine
Ridge, and he offered to escort them thither. But,


he added, that in Mr. Kingsland's feeble condition
it would be as well for him to stay where he was,
since he must run great risk by exposure in the
depth of winter.
The next caller at the cabin was Nicholas
Jackson, who had been a scout under General Crook,
and was now serving General Miles in the same
capacity at Pine Ridge. He brought news of Sitting
Bull's death, and assured the pioneer that every
day spent by him and his family away from the
agency increased their peril.
"You shouldn't delay your start a single hour,"
was his remark, as he vaulted upon his pony and
skurried away.
Before deciding the all-important question, it
was agreed that Brinton should gallop down to the
reservation and learn the real situation. It was a
long ride to Pine Ridge, and involved the crossing
of the Cheyenne, White, and several smaller streams,
but the youth was confident he could penetrate
far enough to ascertain the truth and get back by
sunset. If it were necessary to go all the way to
the agency, this was impossible, for the days were
at their shortest, but he must penetrate that far
to find out what he wished to know.


When Brinton flung himself into the saddle of
Jack, his tough and intelligent pony, just as it was
beginning to grow light in the east, after his hasty
breakfast and "good-bye," he was sure he would be
caught in a snow-storm before his return. The
dull heavy sky, and the peculiar penetrating chilli-
ness, left no doubt on that point.
But with his usual pluck, he chirruped to his
pony, lightly jerked his bridle rein, and the gallant
animal was off at a swinging pace, which he was
able to maintain for hours without fatigue. He
was heading south-east, over the faintly marked
trail, with which the youth was familiar and which
was so well known to the animal himself that he
needed no guidance.
Two hours later, the young horseman reached
the border line of Custer and Washington counties,
that is between the county of his own home and
the reservation. This was made by the Big Chey-
enne River, which had to be crossed before Pine
Ridge was reached. Brinton reined up his horse
and sat for some minutes, looking down on the
stream, in which huge pieces of ice were floating,
though it was not frozen over.
"That isn't very inviting, Jack." he said,


"but the ford is shallow and it's no use wait-
He was in the act of starting his pony down
the bank, when on the heavy chilly air sounded a
dull explosive crack A nipping of his coat sleeve
showed that the bullet had passed startlingly near
him. He turned his head like a flash, and saw,
not more than a hundred feet distant, the figure
of a Sioux buck or young warrior bareback on his
horse, which was standing motionless, while his
rider made ready to let fly with another shot from
his Winchester rifle.

~I 9.. ,r



THE instant Brinton Kingsland looked around and
saw the Indian on his pony, a short distance away,
with his rifle at his shoulder and about to fire a
second time, he brought his own Winchester to a
level and aimed at the one who had attempted
thus treacherously to shoot him in the back.
The Indian was no older than himself, sitting
firmly on the bare back of his horse, with his blanket
wrapped about his shoulders, and several stained
eagle feathers protruding from his hair, as black
and coarse as that of his pony's tail His dark
eyes glittered as they glanced along the barrel of
his rifle, and he aimed straight at the breast of the
youth, who instead of flinging himself over the
side of his horse in the attempt to dodge the deadly
missile, sat bolt upright and aimed in turn at the
miscreant, who, as if stirred by the same scorn of
personal danger, remained firmly in his seat.


It all depended on who should fire first, and
that which we have related took place, as may be
said, in the twinkling of an eye.
But with the weapons poised, the eyes of the
two glancing along the barrels and the fingers on
the triggers, neither gun was discharged. Brinton
was on the point of firing, when the Indian abruptly
lowered his Winchester, with the exclamation-
"Hoof! Brinton!"
The white youth had recognized the other at
the same instant when another moment would have
been too late. He, too, dropped the stock of his
gun from his shoulder and called out with a sur-
prised expression-
"Wolf Ear!"
The Indian touched his pony wibh his heel, and
the animal moved forward briskly, until the riders
faced each other within arm's length.
"How do you do?" asked the Ogalalla, ex-
tending his hand, which Brinton took with a smile,
and the reproving remark-
"I did not expect such a welcome from you,
Wolf Ear."
I did not know it was you, good friend Brin-


"And suppose you did not; are you the sort
of warrior that shoots another in the back ?"
The broad face, with its high cheek bones, cop-
pery skin, low forehead and Roman nose, changed
from the pleasant smile which gave a glimpse of
the even white teeth, to a scowl, that told the ugly
feelings that had been stirred by the questioning
remark of the white youth.
"Your people have become my enemies: they
have killed Sitting Bull, Black Bird, Catch-the-Bear,
Little Assiniboine, Spotted Horse Bull, Brave
Thunder, and my friend, Crow Foot, who was the
favourite son of Sitting Bull He was as a brother
to me."
"And your people have killed Bull Head, Shave
Head, Little Eagle, Afraid-of-Soldiers, Hawk Man,
and others of their own race, who were wise enough
to remain friends of our people. I know of that
fight when they set out to arrest Sitting Bull."
"They had no right to arrest him," said Wolf
Ear, with a flash of his black eyes; "he was in his
own tepee (or tent), and harming no one."
"He was doing more harm to his own people
as well as ours, than all the other malcontents
together. He was the plotter of mischief; he


encouraged this nonsense about the ghost dances and
the coming Messiah, and was doing all he could
to bring about a great war between my people and
yours. His death is the best fortune that could
come to the Indians."
"It was murder," said Wolf Ear sullenly, and
then, before the other could frame a reply, his
swarthy face lightened up.
"But you and I, Brinton, are friiends; I shot
at you because I thought you were someone else;
it would have grieved my heart had I done you
harm; I am glad I did not; I offer you my hand."
Young Kingsland could not refuse the proffer,
though he was far from feeling comfortable, despite
his narrow escape a moment before.
"I thought you were a civilised Indian, Wolf
Ear," he added, as he relinquished the grasp, and
the two once more looked in each other's counten-
ances; "you told me so when I last saw you."
Wolf Ear, the Ogalalla, was sent to Carlisle, when
only eight years old. Unusually bright, he had
made good progress, and won the golden opinions
of his teachers by his gentle, studious deport-
ment, and affection for those that had been kind
to him.


He spoke English as well as the whites, and
was a fine scholar. He went back to his people,
when sixteen years old, and did what he could to
win them from their savagery and barbarism.
He and Brinton Kingsland met while hunting
at the base of the Black Hills, and became great
friends. The young Ogalalla visited the white youth
at his home on Raccoon Creek, where he was kindly
treated by the Kingslands, and formed a deep
affection for little Edith.
But nothing had been seen of Wolf Ear for
several months. The home of his people was some
distance away, but that should not have prevented
him from visiting his white friends, who often
wondered why he did not show himself among
Rather curiously, Brinton was thinking of his
dusky comrade at the moment he was roused by
the shot which nipped his coat sleeve. It was
natural that he should be disappointed, and im-
patient to find that this bright Indian youth, who
had lived for several years among civilised people,
was carried away by the wave of excitement that
was sweeping across the country. He knew that
his twin brother and his father were still savages,


and it was easy to find excuse for them, but not
for Wolf Ear.
"You believe in the coming of One to save
your people-why should not we place faith in the
coming of owr Messiah ?" was the pertinent question
of Wolf Ear.
"What is this revelation?" asked Brinton, who
had heard many conflicting accounts of the strange
craze, and felt a natural desire for an authoritative
"The Messiah once descended to save the white
race, but they rejected and put him to death. In
turn he rejects them, and will come in the spring,
when the grass is about two inches high, and save
his red children and destroy his white ones. He
has enjoined upon all of us who believe in him to
wear a certain dress and to practise the ghost
dance, as often and as long as we possibly can, as
a proof of our faith. If any of us die from ex-
haustion, while performing this ceremony, we will
be taken direct to the Messiah, where we shall meet
those who have died, and whence we will come
back to tell the living what we have seen and heard.
When the Messiah comes in the spring, a new earth
will be created, covering the present world, burying


all the whites and those red men that have
not joined in the dance. The Messiah will again
bring with him the departed of our own people,
and the earth shall once more be as our fore-
fathers knew it, except there shall be no more
Brinton Kingsland listened, amazed as this ex-
pression fell from the lips of one who had often
lamented the superstition of his own race. That
he believed the words he uttered was proven by
his earnestness of manner and the glow of his coun-
tenance. The white youth restrained his impulse
to ridicule the strange faith, for that assuredly
would have given offence to the fanatic, who had
the right to believe whatever he chose.
"Well, Wolf Ear, I can only say I am sorry
that you should have been carried away by this
"By what right do you call it error ?" interrupted
the other with a flash of his eyes.
"We will not discuss it. It will do no good,
and is likely to do harm. I need not be told that
you belong to the hostiles, and, if trouble comes,
will fight against the whites."
"Yes, you are right," calmly replied the Ogalalla,


compressing his thin lips and nodding his head a
single time.
Your father and brother, whom I have never seen,
would shoot me and my folk if they had the chance."
"Yes, and so would my mother: she is a warrior
"But suppose you and I or my father meet, or
you have the chance to harm my mother and little
sister, Edith?"
"Wolf Ear can never raise his hand against
them, no matter what harm they may seek to do
him. I do not have to tell you that you and I
will always be friends, whatever may come."
This assurance would have had more weight
with young Kingsland could he have felt certain
that Wolf Ear was truthful in declaring that he
did not suspect his identity at the moment of firing
at him.
"I believe he meant to take my life," was his
thought, "and still meant to do so, when he raised
his Winchester a second time, but as we looked
into each other's face, he weakened. His people
are treacherous, and this pretence of goodwill will
not last, or, if it be genuine for the present, it will
soon change."


Brinton said-
"You know where we live, Wolf Ear; I have
set out to ride to the reservation to learn whether
it is safe to stay where we are: what is your judg-
ment in the matter?"
An indefinable expression passed over the broad
face before him. The Ogalalla sat gracefully on
his horse, even though he had no saddle. A bit
was in the pony's mouth, the single rein looping
around the neck and resting at the base of the
mane, just in front of the rider, who allowed it
to lie there, while the two hands idly held the
rifle across the back of the animal and his own
"You stayed too long," said he; "you should
have left two weeks ago; it is too late now."
"But you know my father is not well, Wolt
Ear," replied Brinton, with a sickening dread in his
"What has that to do with this ?"
"We did not wish to expose him to the severe
weather, as we must in the ride to the agency."
Is he better and stronger now?"
"There is little improvement in his condition.
He has been ailing a long time, as you know."


"Then you have gained nothing and will lose
all by your delay."
Brinton had no further wish to discuss the
ghost dance and the coming of the new Messiah
with the young Ogalalla. All his thoughts were
of those dear ones, miles away, whose dreadful
peril he now fully comprehended for the first time.
He saw the mistake that had been made by the
delay, and a faintness came over him at the decla-
ration of Wolf Ear that this delay was fatal
His horse was facing the north-west, the direc-
tion of his home. There was no call for longer
"Good-bye," he said, giving the Indian a military
salute; "I hope we shall meet in more pleasant
circumstances, when you shall see, Wolf Ear, the
mistake you are making."
Trained in the ways of the white people, the
dusky youth raised his hand to his forehead, and
sat motionless on his horse, without speaking, as
his friend dashed across the plain, over the trail
which he had followed to the banks of the Big
It was not yet noon, and Brinton was hopeful
of reaching home long before the day drew to a


close. The chilliness of the air continued, and
a few feathery flakes of snow drifted horizontally
on the wind or were whirled about the head of
the young horseman. He glanced up at the leaden
sky and noted that the temperature was falling.
"Like enough we shall have one of those bliz-
zards, when the horses and cattle freeze to death
under shelter and we can only huddle and shiver
around the fire and wait for the tempest to pass.
It will be the death of us all, if we start for the agency
and are caught in one of the blizzards, but death
awaits us if we stay. Ah me, what will become
of father, ill and weak as he is?"
The words of Wolf Ear made the youth more
circumspect and alert than when riding away from
his home. He continually glanced ahead, on his
right and left and to the rear. The first look in
the last direction showed him the young Ogalalla
sitting like a statue on his pony and gazing after
Some minutes later, when Brinton turned his
head again, he saw him riding at a rapid pace
towards the north, or rather a little west of north,
so that the course of the two slightly diverged.
"He's up to some mischief, I'll warrant," was


Brinton's conclusion, "and he already recalls his
profession of friendship for me. Halloa! I don't
like the look of that."
In the precise direction pursued by the Ogalalla,
which was toward Rapid Creek, a tributary of the
Big Cheyenne, he discerned several Indian horsemen.
They were riding close, and were so mingled together
that it was impossible to tell their number. They
seemed to be about half a dozen, and were advancing
as if to meet Wolf Ear, who must have described
them before Brinton.
"They will soon unite, and when they do he
will be the fiercest warrior among them. I
He held his breath a moment, and then could
only whisper-
"I wonder if they have not already visited our
home ?"


To the westward the Black Hills thrust their vast
rugged summits against the wintry sky; to the south,
a spur of the same mountains put out toward the
frontier town of Buffalo Gap; to the north-east
wound the Big Cheyenne, on its way to the Mis-
souri, and marking through a part of its course the
southern boundary of the Cheyenne Reservation,
while creek, stream, and river crossed the rolling
plain that intervened, and over all stretched the
sunless sky, from which the snow-flakes were eddying
and whirling to the frozen earth below.
But Brinton Kingsland had no eye for any of
these things, upon which he had looked many a time
and oft. His thoughts were with those loved ones
in the humble cabin, still miles away, toward the
towering mountains, while his immediate anxiety
was about the hostiles that had appeared in his
front and were now circling to the northward as if
to meet Wolf Ear, the young Ogalalla, who was


galloping in the face of the biting gale and rapidly
drawing toward them.
Brinton's expectation that they would lose no
time in coming together was not precisely fulfilled,
for while the horsemen were yet a long way off,
they swerved sharply, as though they identified the
youth for the first time.
"They intend to give me some attention," was
his thought, "without waiting for Wolf Ear to join
them. They know that I belong to the white race,
and that is enough."
The youth did not feel any special alarm for
himself, for he was confident that Jack was as fleet-
footed as any of the animals bestrode by the hostiles,
and would leave them behind in a fair race. He
noticed that the Ogalalla was mounted on a superior
beast, but he did not believe he could outspeed
But it would never do to meet those half-dozen
horsemen that had faced toward him, and were
approaching at the same swinging gallop. Brinton
diverged more to the left, thus leaving the trail,
and they also changed their course, as if to head
him off.
"If it is to be a race, I am throwing away my


chances by helping to shorten the distance between
The fugitive now headed directly away from
the horsemen, so that both parties were pursuing
the same line. The youth looked back, at the
moment that several blue puffs of smoke showed
over the backs of the horses. The thudding reports
came through the chilly air, and a peculiar whistling
sound overhead left no doubt that the hostiles,
great as was the separating space, had fired at
the fugitive, who turned to take a look at Wolf
That individual discharged his gun the next
moment. Brinton heard nothing of the bullet, but
smiled grimly-
"He has changed his mind soon, but they have
got to come closer before they hurt me. He is
no great marksman anyway, or he would not have
missed me a little while ago."
It was singular that it did not occur to young
Kingsland that it was possible the Ogalalla had not
fired at him at all. Not even when the horsemen
checked their pursuit, and reining up their animals
awaited the coming of the buck, who was riding
like a hurricane, could he bring himself to think


of Wolf Ear except as a bitter enemy, who for some
subtle purpose of his own had declared a temporary
"I suppose they think I shall be along this
way again pretty soon, and they can afford to wait
till I run into their trap," was the conclusion of
Brinton, who headed his pony once more toward his
home, and put him to his best paces.
"Come, Jack, there's no time to throw away;
hard work is before you, and you must struggle as
never before."
The snowfall which seemed for ever impending
did not come. The few scattering flakes still circled
and eddied through the air, as if reluctant to touch
the earth, but no perceptible increase appeared in
their number. The nipping air seemed to have
become too cold to permit a snow-storm.
Brinton had set- out fully prepared for such
change of temperature. He wore a thick woollen
cap, whose flaps were drawn down to his ears, while
they were more than met by the heavy coat collar
that was turned up, the garment itself being closely
buttoned around his body. His rifle rested across
the pommel of his saddle in front, and his gloved
hands scarcely ever touched the rein which lay


I 9\


"'HUREAH !'" (p. 37).


loose on his pony's neck. He was a capital horse-
man, and, with the understanding between him and
his intelligent beast, could have got along without
any bit at all.
Strapped behind him was a substantial lunch,
and his keen appetite would have made it enjoyable,
but he did not disturb it. It could wait until he
learned the truth about the folk at home, which
he was now rapidly drawing near.
Over a swell in the prairie, across a small creek,
whose icy waters hardly came above Jack's fetlocks,
up a second rise, and then Brinton Kingsland
uttered an exclamation of amazement and sharply
checked his animal.
"My gracious! what is the meaning of that?"
Over another swell, and only a few hundred yards
away, two other horses rode to view, coming directly
toward him. Each sustained a heavily muffled figure,
and they were moving at a rapid walk.
Suspecting their identity, he waited a minute,
and then started his horse forward again. A few
paces, and despite the arctic temperature, he raised
his cap from his head and called out-
Hurrah! thank Heaven, you are alive, and have
started for the agency."


His father sat on one horse, swathed in heavy
clothing, and a blanket which the faithful wife had
fastened around his emaciated and weak form, while
she, with Edith in front, and both also protected
against the severe weather, were on the other animal
He had a rifle across his saddle front, like the son,
and they had brought with them nothing but a
small amount of food, barely enough to last them
until they could reach the agency, provided there.
was no unexpected delay on the road.
The discovery that they were alive and secure
for the time, though the shadow of a great peril
was over all, so delighted the son that he could
not repress the shout of joy, as he rode forward
and greeted them, little more than their eyes and
noses showing through the thick coverings
"What made you leave before I got back?"
was the first inquiry of Brinton, after a few con-
gratulatory words.
"We concluded it was high time to do so,"
replied the father, showing more vigour in his voice
than the son expected.
"How did you find it out?"
"A half-dozen hostiles fired several times at
the house, and then, as if they feared they were


not strong enough to capture us and burn the
cabin, rode off for help."
"They are hardly out of sight now; they gave
me half a dozen shots, and I had a short chase with
them. But you are off the trail"
"And so are you," said his father.
"Which is a mighty good thing for us both.
You had to abandon everything?"
"Of course; I have no doubt though," added
the father grimly, "that the Indians will look after
the live stock for us."
"Whom do you suppose I saw?" asked Brinton,
turning to his mother and sister.
"A big bear?" ventured Edith from the depths
of her wrappings.
"No; he was an old friend of yours-Wolf Ear,
who used to come to our house and have such good
times with you."
The excited child flung her arms about in
the effort to free herself of the encumbering wrap-
"Oh, where is he? Why didn't he come with
you? Didn't he want to see me? I am so sorry;
isn't he with you?"
And she peered around, as if she suspected the


young Ogalalla was hiding behind the saddle of her
Brinton smiled, and then gravely shook his head.
He said, addressing his parents more than the little
"I was never more astonished than to find that
Wolf Ear, despite the training he has had at Carlisle,
has joined the hostiles, and is now an enemy of
those who were such good friends of his."
The youth did not think it wise to tell, in the
presence of his sister, the particulars of their first
You grieve me more than I can express," replied
the father; "are you sure you are not mistaken?"
"Not when he told me so himself."
"But you must have met as friends."
"He said he would not harm any one of us, if
the fortunes of war should give him the chance;
but he declares himself the enemy of all others of
our race. He has a twin brother, and he and
his father and mother, as Wolf Ear coolly told me,
would be pleased to scalp us. I have no more faith
in him than in them. We parted as friends, but
he has joined that very party which fired on you,
and will go back to the house with them."


"And finding us gone, what then?"
"He will lead them on our trail and be among
the foremost to shoot us down, every one of us."
"I don't believe it!" called Edith from her wraps,
which her mother had put around her again; "I
like Wolf Ear and want to see him."
Brinton did not think it worth while to discuss
the matter with his sister, for a far more important
matter pressed upon them.
"It won't do to follow the trail," remarked the
father, "since they will be on the look-out for us.
We will bear to the south, so as to strike the
Cheyenne further up stream."
"We may not be able to ford it."
We can follow it down till we find a place. It
may be frozen over nearer its source. The agency
is so far off that we shall have to go into camp
before we can get half-way there."
"How do you feel, father?" abruptly asked his
son, glancing keenly at him. "Are you strong
enough to stand this hard ride?"
"I am much stronger than you would sup-
pose; you know a crisis like this will rouse any
man, even if he is a good deal more unwell than
I am."


"I am glad to hear you talk that way, but you
will be tried hard before we reach Pine Ridge."
"Give yourself no uneasiness about me; the
only thing we are to think about is how we shall
get to the agency without meeting with the hostiles,
who seem to be roaming everywhere."
While they sat talking, at the base of the swell,
on the summit of which the parents had first ap-
peared, all partook of lunch, for it was not likely
they would have a more favourable opportunity
before the coming of night.
It was decided to bear still more to the south,
with a view of avoiding the party that was at no
great distance. Indeed, less than half an hour had
passed since they vanished from the view of the
youth, who believed they were waiting in the vicinity
of the trail for his return, and would attack the
whites the moment they discovered them.
The halt lasted little more than a quarter of an
hour, when they resumed their journey toward the
agency, which they hoped, rather than expected,
to reach by the morrow's set of sun. The mother
was without any weapon, though she was quite skilful
in the use of a rifle. Her husband said that if he
found himself compelled to yield to weakness, he


would turn over his Winchester to her, believing
as he did that she was sure to give a good account
of herself.
They were plentifully supplied with cartridges, but
the reader does not need to be reminded of their
almost helpless situation. Kingsland, despite his
brave efforts to keep up, was unable to ride his
pony at full speed for any length of time, while
the wife, burdened with the care of .Edith, could
not expect to do much better.
If the company were attacked by any party of
hostiles, however slight in numbers, deplorable conse-
quences were almost certain. Their hope would
be in finding some sort of shelter which might be
turned to account as a screen or barricade.
But their only safety, it may be said, lay in
avoiding the Indians altogether, and it was to that
task that Brinton, as the strongest one of the party,
addressed himself with all the energy and skill of
his nature.
The course was up and down continually, though
none of the swells in the prairie was of much height.
The youth rode slightly in advance and never made
his way to the top of one of the slight elevations
without a quicker throbbing of the heart and a


misgiving which made the situation of the most
trying nature.
It was the dread of the hostiles, with whom
Wolf Ear had joined himself, that led him to make
a longer bend to the south than even his father
had contemplated. True, as he well knew, they
were not the sole Indians to be dreaded, but they
were the only ones of whom he had positive know-
ledge. Others were likely to be encountered at
any time, and it may be said that as they drew
nearer the agency, the peril increased.
A half-dozen miles from where the family had
been reunited, they approached a higher elevation
than any that had yet been crossed. Brinton asked
the rest to halt at the base, while he dismounted
and carefully went to the top on foot.
It was well he took this precaution, for his friends,
who were watching his crouching figure as he
cautiously went up the incline, saw him abruptly
halt and peer over the ridge, in a way which showed
he had perceived something. He remained but a
minute, when he hurried back, pale and excited.
"There are fifty hostiles!" he exclaimed in an
undertone, "and they are only a little way off!"


BRINTON KINGSLAND, after peering over the crest
of the elevation for a few brief moments, turned
and hastily descended to where his pony awaited
him. Without touching his bridle, he spoke, and
the obedient animal followed him, while the parents
and little sister anxiously listened to the report of
what he learned.
"It's the very party of Indians that we have
been trying to get away from," added the youth to
his first explanation; "there are seven of them, and
Wolf Ear is among them."
"Is he?" eagerly asked Edith, from her wrap-
pirgs on the saddle in front of her mother "oh,
let me see him! Tell him I am here."
Keep quiet! Don't speak," said her father
sternly. "Wolf Ear is with bad Indians, and is a
bad Indian himself"
The child would have protested, but for the
manner of her father. He could be firm when he


chose, and she knew better than to disobey him
but she pouted just a little, as she nestled down by
her mother, who shared to some extent her faith
in the Ogalalla who had spent so many hours under
their roof.
"What are they doing?" asked Mr. Kingsland
of his son.
"They act queerly; the party are drawn up
together, and looking off in the direction of the trail
to the agency, over which they expect us to pass."
"They are on the watch for us, of course; how
far away do you judge the trail to be?"
Several miles; it seems odd to me that they should
ride so far south, instead of staying nearer to it."
"It is plain enough to me; they fear that if we
caught sight of them, as we should be sure to do,
we would hurry back to the house, where they
should have less chance against us. By keeping
hidden, so that we could not discover our danger
until too far away from home, they could ride in
behind us and cut off our escape in that direction.
But how are we to escape them?"
"We passed an arroya a little way back: let us
take to that, and there isn't a minute to lose."
The youth hastily climbed into the saddle, and


turned the nose of Jack about, so that he went back
directly over his own hoof-prints. A little distance,
and they struck a narrow valley-like depression,
which wound further to the south than the course
they were pursuing at the moment of the startling
interruption. He entered this at once, the others
directly at his heels, the animals walking fast, but
with a silence that made one suspect they under-
stood the danger that threatened all
The arroya, as it is termed in some parts of the
country, was a straight passage, resembling a gully,
between banks a dozen feet in height. It looked
as if it had been washed out years before, by some
violent rush of waters, which soon ran itself dry,
leaving the abrupt banks, facing each other, at
varying distances of from ten to fifty feet.
In some places these banks of clay were per-
pendicular, so that a horse, once within the gorge,
could not leave it at many points, while in others,
the dirt had tumbled in to an extent which made
it easy for him to climb out.
The course of the arroya was devious, and there
was no saying when it would terminate by rising
to the level of the prairie. At most, it could be
but a temporary refuge for the fugitives.


The thought occurred to both father and son
that the Indians must soon discover this refuge,
which would be welcome to them and their animals
while the piercing blast was sweeping across the
prairie. The eddying snow had almost ceased, but
the wind blew fitfully, and whenever it touched the
face or bare hand, it was like a needle of ice. The
American Indian is one of the toughest of creatures,
but he does not disdain shelter for himself and beast
from the merciless blizzard, or driving tempest.
Many of those gathered about Pine Ridge, during the
critical days in '90-'91, found protection in the
pockets of earth in the gullies, where they peered out
like wild aminals on the alert for a chance to spring
at the blue-coated sentinel, without risk to them-
If the arroya should hold its general course
southward for several miles, the little party might
successfully escape the hostiles, who intruded be-
tween them and the agency. The afternoon was
wearing away, and the night would be moonless
and starless. Our friends hoped, if they escaped
until then, to lessen greatly the distance between
them and Pine Ridge.
A quarter or a third of a mile through the


winding gully, and Brinton drew rein, and waited
until his parents rode up beside him.
"I wonder what has become of them ?" was
his inquiring remark.
What does it matter," asked his mother in turn,
"so long as we cannot see them? We must be a
good way from them now."
"I wish I could think so, but I can't feel easy
while riding in this blind fashion. There may be
greater danger in front than we have left behind."
"What do you propose to do ?" asked the father.
"Take a look round and learn, if I can, how
things are going."
Without explaining further, the youth swung
himself down once more from the saddle, and hurried
to the edge of the arroya on his left. There was
a spot so sloping that after a little work, with the
dirt crumbling under his feet, he reached the level
above, and was able to peer over a great deal of the
surrounding prairie without exposing himself.
The result ought to have been gratifying, but
it was hardly that. North, south, east, and west
the youth bent his keen vision, but not a sign of
the dreaded hostiles was to be seen. They were
as invisible as though they had never been.


Had the distance travelled by the fugitives since
their fright been twice or thrice as great, this must
have been the best of omens, but the space was
not far, and it was almost self-evident that the
band was still in the neighbourhood.
But where?
That was the question on the lips of father and
son as they discussed the situation, and in the
minds of both trembled the same answer: the
hostiles were in the arroya itself, behind the fugi-
"They have ridden down the bank," said the
parent, "to shelter their ponies from the icy blast,
and are there now."
"Will they suspect that we have been this way?"
inquired the mother.
"They cannot fail to notice the hoof-prints we
have left," replied her husband, "and that will tell
the story as plainly as if they sat on the bank as
we rode by."
The alarming declaration caused the wife to
cast a terrified glance behind her, as if she expected
to see the ferocious redskins burst into view with
crack of rifle and ear-splitting shriek.
In the circumstances, there was manifestly but


one thing to do-push on with no more delay than
was inevitable.
The ground at the bottom of the arroya was
comparatively level, and the horses dropped into
an easy swinging gallop, which lasted but a few
minutes, when Mr. Kingsland called in a faint
voice, as he brought his animal down to a walk-
"Hold on, Brinton!"
"What is the matter?" asked the son, looking
at him in dismay.
"I can't stand it; I am not as strong as I
He reeled in his saddle, and the startled son
reached out to prevent his falling.
"Forgive me, father; I forgot your illness."
"There-there-I am all right," he murmured,
putting his hand to his face, in the effort to master
his weakness.
His wife was also at his side, anxious and alarmed.
"Hugh, I fear you have undertaken more than
you can do," she said, laying her hand affectionately
on his arm, and peering into as much of his face
as was visible through the thick wrappings.
He made no reply, and it was plain that he was
nearly fainting. There was nothing his friends could


do for him, except to help him out of the saddle,
and they were about to propose that, when a slight
but alarming accident took place.
The Winchester, resting across the saddle-bow
and hitherto grasped in the mittened hands of the
man, slipped from his relaxed fingers and fell to
the earth. The lock struck in such a way that a
chamber was discharged, the bullet burying itself
in the bank which Brinton had climbed only a few
minutes before.
The sharp explosion roused Edith, who was
sinking into a doze, and imparted to the man himself
such a shock that his growing faintness gave instant
place to renewed strength. He straightened up
and said-
"Gracious! that's too bad; they must have
heard it."
"We can't tell about that; are you stronger?"
"Yes; let's push on; we must lose no time."
Brinton longed to force the animals into a
gallop, but dared not, after what had just taken
place. But they were pushed to a rapid walk,
which was kept up some ten or fifteen minutes,
when came another sudden halt, for the good
reason that they had reached the end of the arroya.


That singular formation, after winding about for
a long distance, rose to the level of the prairie, and
To proceed further must be done by exposure
to any hostiles in the neighbourhood. Brinton
stopped and looked inquiringly at his father.
"As near as I can judge," said the latter, "we
are close to the Big Cheyenne; we ought to cross
that early this evening and keep on to the White,
which should be reached by daylight; then the ride
is not far to Pine Ridge."
"Night is near; we will wait awhile; the rest
will do you good, and I will take a look over our
own trail"
Leaving his friends to themselves, Brinton headed
back and struck Jack into a moderate gallop through
the arroya.
He was uneasy over that accident with his
father's Winchester. If heard by the keen-eared
hostiles they would start an investigation, which
could have but one result.
"They must have heard it," was his belief, "and
if so, they knew where it came from. It won't
take them long to learn its meaning-halloa! what's
the matter, Jack?"


More than once, the sagacity of his animal had
warned the youth of the approach of danger. The
pony dropped into a walk so quickly that the rider
was thrown slightly forward in the saddle. Then
the animal pricked up his ears, took a few more
steps and halted.
That means something," thought Brinton, bring-
ing his rifle round to the front and making ready
to use it on the instant if needed. He softly drew
the mitten from his right hand.
The gully turned sharply to the left, just ahead,
and he knew that Jack had scented danger. But,
if so, minute after minute passed and it did not
appear. The youth became perplexed, and was in
sore doubt whether to push on a little further or
turn back.
He gently twitched the rein and touched his
heels against the ribs of his pony. He advanced a
couple of paces, and stopped as abruptly as before,
his head still up, his ears erect, while the snuffing
nostrils showed that he was wiser than his rider.
"I'll be hanged if I don't learn the meaning of
this," muttered Brinton Kingsland, who, with less
discretion than he generally showed, swung himself
out of the saddle and moved stealthily forward,


with the resolution to learn the cause of Jack's
And he learned it soon enough.
He had barely time to pass part way round the
curve in the arroya, which was unusually winding
at that portion, when he came face to face with an
Indian horseman.
The animal of the latter, quite 'as sagacious as
Jack's, had detected the presence of a stranger be-
yond the turn, and halted until the latter revealed
himself, or his master decided upon the line to
Brinton's great blunder was in moving so im-
patiently through the gully that he was revealed
too soon to draw back. Thus it was that it may
be said he almost precipitated himself upon the
buck before he saw him.
It would be hard to describe Brinton's emotions
when on the first startled glance at the solitary
Indian he recognized him as Wolf Ear, whom he
had encountered but a little while before. The
Indian looked fixedly at him, and something like
a smile lit up his broad coppery face.
"Thus we meet, Brinton," he said in his low
voice; "will you come forward and shake hands?"


"Why should I shake hands?" asked the youth,
thoroughly distrustful of the Ogalalla; "we are
"That is for you to decide," was the cool
remark of the Indian youth.
He made as if to ride away, when Brinton inter-
"Your actions do not agree with your words."
"And why not?"
"After parting from me, you rode away and
joined my enemies."
To the amazement of the youth, the young
Ogalalla without a word wheeled about and galloped
out of sight up the arroya.


BRINTON KINGSLAND was in the saddle again on
the instant, and his pony dashed down the arroya
at full speed.
"Wolf Ear has hurried back to tell the rest that
he has seen us, and they will be here in a few
minutes," was the belief that lent wings to his speed.
It was a comparatively short ride to where his
friends awaited him. A minute sufficed for them
to learn the alarming tidings.
"It won't do to delay another second; come
The next moment the two horses followed the
youth out of the gully upon the plain.
"Can you stand it, father?" he asked, holding
his pony back and looking inquiringly at him.
"Yes, my son; don't think of me," was the brave
response, as the parent struck his animal into a
The mother was a capital horsewoman, and


little Edith, who was now fully awake, once more
accommodated herself to her position, so as to save
all embarrassment so far as she was concerned.
Child-like, she wanted to ask innumerable ques-
tions, but she was intelligent enough to understand
that silence was expected of her, and she held her
peace, wondering, perplexed, and frightened.
The wintry afternoon was wearing to a close.
The sky maintained its heavy leaden hue, the wind
blew fitfully and was of piercing keenness, and the
occasional snow-flakes, whirling about the heads of
the fugitives, were more like hailstones than the
soft downy particles which had appeared earlier
in the afternoon. The view was shortened in the
gathering gloom, and the anxious eyes glancing
around the different points of the compass, and
especially to the rear, failed to reveal the dreaded
horsemen from whom they were fleeing.
The hope of the little party lay in keeping be-
yond sight of their enemies until night. With no
moon and stars to guide them, the hostiles could
not keep their trail, which our friends were sure
to make as winding as possible.
As the night approached, their hopes increased.
Darkness was closing in when they reached the


bank of the Big Cheyenne, and, for the first time
since leaving the arroya, they drew rein.
"This is better than I dared expect," said the
father in high spirits, and seemingly strengthened
by his sharp ride through the cutting cold; "I can
hardly understand it."
"I suspect that Wolf Ear made a blunder."
"In what way?"
"He did not think we should leave the gully
before night; he went back and told the rest. They
dared not attack us where we had some show to
defend ourselves; they will not discover our flight
until it is too late."
While there seemed reason in this belief, it did
not fully satisfy the father. It was not in keeping
with the subtlety of the American Indian that
they should allow a party of whites to ride directly
away from them, when they were at their mercy.
Any one of the hostiles, by climbing the side of
the arroya, was sure to see the little company of
fugitives emerge therefrom, and it was inconceivable
that they should not take that simple precaution.
"There is something beyond all this which has
not yet appeared," he said; "neither Wolf Ear nor
his companions are fools."


The river swept by in the gathering darkness
at their feet. The current was not swift, but pieces
of ice lay against the shores, and floated past in
the middle of the stream. The opposite bank could
hardly be seen in the gloom.
"Must we cross that?" asked Mrs. Kingsland,
as the horses halted on the margin of the icy waters.
"Yes," replied her husband, "and twenty miles
further we must cross the White, to say nothing
of smaller streams, which may be as deep and
more difficult. Pine Ridge lies fifty miles away,
and there's no going round any of the water."
"It will be the death of us to swim our horses,"
she said with a shudder; "we shall freeze to death."
"That is not to be thought of," Brinton has-
tened to explain; "while the Cheyenne has many
deep places at this season, there are others where
a horse can wade across without wetting one's
"But how are we to know such fords?"
"By trying, and there's no better place than
this; wait till I make the attempt."
With commendable promptness he urged Jack
forward, and the animal, understanding what was
required of him, stepped among the pieces of ice



along the bank. He slipped on one, and Edith
uttered a cry of alarm.
"Look out, Brint! You will fall into the water."
"Don't fret about me," he called back.
A few reassuring words to his pony, who hesitated
and sniffed, as if about to draw back, and he con-
tinued his cautious advance into the stream, the
others anxiously watching his progress.
Should the water prove deep enough to force
the steed to swim, it would never do, for that would
necessitate the saturation of the garments of all,
which meant freezing to death.
As long as the ponies maintained a sure footing,
even though the water crept well up their sides,
the riders could guard themselves against the dreaded
wetting. Brinton, therefore, ventured into the
stream with the utmost care, his animal feeling
every step of the way. Ten steps from the bank,
and the water touched Brinton's stirrups. He
withdrew his feet and held them out of reach.
He was so excellent a horseman that, by the pres-
sure of his knees, he sat almost as firmly in the
saddle as if with the support for his feet.
"Be careful, Jack; slowly-slowly-slowly!"
Jack was sniffing, with his neck outstretched


and his nose almost on the surface of the water.
The breath issued like steam through his thin
silken nostrils, and he paid no heed to a triangular
piece of jagged ice which struck his hind legs with
a sharp. thrust, and then swung clear. He knew
his duty, and was doing his "level best."
The rider turned his head and looked back.
The forms of his parents on their motionless horses
were dim, and growing more indistinct in the ap-
proaching night.
Seeing him turn his head, his father called
something in a guarded undertone, which the son
did not catch, but, believing it was simply a request
for him to be careful, he replied, "All right," and
went on with the work in hand.
Several steps further and the water had not
perceptibly deepened. Brinton, indeed, was in-
clined to think it had slightly shallowed.
"We are pretty near the middle, and it begins
to look as if I had struck the right spot after all.
Halloa! what's up now ?"
Jack had stopped, just as he did in the arroya,
and with the same appearance of alarm.
"Can it be that you have scented a deep place
in front and want to save me from a bath?"


Brinton Kingsland checked the light question
on his lips, for at the moment of uttering it his
own vision answered the query in a manner that
fairly lifted his cap from his head.
A horseman was advancing through the water
from the other side of the Cheyenne. He was
several rods away, but near enough for the youth
to recognize him as an Indian warrior. He had
entered the icy stream, as if to meet the other,
who in the same glance that identified him dimly
discerned more horsemen on the bank beyond.
As in the former instance, Jack had discovered
the peril before his master and halted, not through
fear of a chilling bath, but because of a tenfold
greater danger stealing upon them.
It looked as if the hostiles, from whom
they were fleeing, had come towards the river
from beyond, and were again between them and
If so, the question might well be asked what
was meant by this extraordinary behaviour of the
red men? Why did they not conceal themselves
until the fugitives rode directly into their arms?
Why take this risk of sending one of their number
to meet an enemy in mid-stream, where, despite


whatever advantage the savage possessed, he could
not help yielding a portion of it to his foe ?
But it was a moment for action and not for
conjecture and speculation.
In the same moment that Brinton recognized
the horseman immediately in his front as a foe, he
observed that his pony had also halted and the
rider was in the act of bringing his weapon to his
The mitten was snatched from the youth's
right hand and thrust in the pocket of his coat.
He had no time to slip the other off, nor was it
necessary, since that only supported the rifle. He
hastily brought his Winchester to a level, and,
knowing that everything depended upon who was
the quicker, he took instant aim at the centre of
the dark figure and let fly.
With a wild cry the Indian rolled from his
pony, and disappeared in the dark waters. His
animal, with a snort of alarm, whirled about and
dashed to shore, sending the spray flying in all
"Quick, Jack back with you!"
Brinton flung himself on the neck of his pony,
who seemed to spin about on his hind feet as he


galloped furiously through the water for the shore
he had just left. Nothing but this precaution and
the deepening gloom saved the daring youth from
death. It required a few precious seconds for the
hostiles on the other bank to comprehend what
had taken place, and when they began firing the
form of the horse and his rider were fast vanishing
from sight.
But the bullets were whistling perilously near
his friends, who did not quite comprehend what
had taken place.
"Move further down the bank!" called Brin-
ton in a guarded undertone; "quick! don't stop
to ask why, but do as I say!"
The parents obeyed, and a minute or two was
sufficient to take them out of range.
"Follow them, Jack, and move lively!"
The pony obeyed, and he too passed beyond
danger for the time.
The darkness was too deep for the persons on
either bank to discern the others across the stream.
The hostiles kept up their firing, in a blind way,
hoping that some of their shots might reach the
fugitives. Brinton had lain down on the shore, so
as to decrease the danger of being struck by any


of the stray bullets. He could tell where the
others were by the flash of their guns, but deemed
it best not to fire for the present, through fear
of betraying his own position.
The dropping shots continued for a few minutes,
and then suddenly stopped. It was impossible to
tell in the gloom what his enemies were doing,
but he suspected the truth: they were preparing
to ford the river, with a view of bringing the com-
batants to close quarters.
Peering intently into the night, he made out
the faint outline of a horseman feeling his way
across, and did not doubt that others were close
behind him. This must be a particularly favourable
ford, else the hostiles would try some other, if they
knew of any in the immediate vicinity
It was necessary to check this advance, if he
expected to save the dear ones with him. The
moment, therefore, he made sure of the object ap-
proaching, he sighted as best he could and blazed
away, instantly shifting his own position, to escape
the return shot which he knew would be quick
in coming.
It was well he did so, for the flash and report
of several rifles and the whistling of the bullets


told of the peril escaped by a very narrow
There was no reason to believe that his own
shot had been fatal, for there was no outcry, nor
did the listening ear detect any splash in the
water, such as marked his first essays when in mid-
stream; but he had accomplished that which he
sought-he had checked the advance, which other-
wise must have been fatal to him and his com-
panions. The form of the horseman disappeared
in the gloom. He had returned to the shore whence
he came, and it was safe to conclude that he would
not soon repeat the attempt.
"What will be their next step ?" was the question
that presented itself to the young defender of the
It was not to be expected that they would try
to cross in the face of the certain reception that
awaited them.
"They know more of the Cheyenne than we
do," Brinton Kingsland thought, "and must be
aware of some place where they can reach this side
without danger. If they do succeed in coming
over, there will be trouble."
He dared not wait long, for nothing was to be


gained, while he ran the risk of losing everything.
Only the sound of the rushing water, the crunching
of the ice, reached his ear. Rising to his feet and
peering into the gloom, he could discern nothing
of his foes.
There's no need of my staying here," he decided,
starting along the stream in quest of his parents.
When he had passed a hundred yards without
seeing them, he was astonished. Another hundred,
and still they were invisible, and the cautious signals
he made remained unanswered.

BY the unaccountable disappearance of his parents
and the horses, Brinton was left in a state rather
of perplexity than alarm. The time was so brief
since they left him, that he could not understand
how they had gone far, nor why they did not answer
the guarded calls he made.
He noticed that when in obedience to his urgent
entreaties the couple rode away, followed by his
own pony, they went down stream, that is, in the
direction of the current. Surely they could
not have passed any distance, and he believed
they heard his voice when, making a funnel
with his mittened hands, he pronounced the
"Father! Mother! where are you?"
If they did not reply, it was because of the danger
involved in doing so. It was incautious on his
part to shout, even in a suppressed voice, at such
a time.
The bank on his left was a little higher than


his head, and so sloping that the horses could
climb out with little effort; but, as will be re-
called, the night was unusually dark and he
might pass over the plainest trail without knowing
He ran some distance further, keeping close
to the water, but still failed to find them.
"They have climbed out of the bed of the
stream; something unexpected has occurred, or
they would not leave me in this manner."
He felt his way to the bank, and easily placed
himself upon the level ground above. There he
strove to pierce the gloom, but nothing rewarded the
"Well, I'll be hanged!" he muttered, "if this
isn't the greatest surprise I ever knew. It looks
as if the ground had opened and swallowed them."
In the northern sky the heavy gloom was re-
lieved by a faint glow, which at first he took for
the aurora borealis, but a few minutes' scrutiny
convinced him that it was the light of some burning
building, the dwelling evidently of some ranchman,
whose family had probably paid with their lives
the penalty of tarrying too long.
"A few hours more, and father, mother, and


Edith would have shared the same fate. It may
still be theirs to do so."
The sound of a whinny from behind caused
him to turn his head. He could see nothing, but
he was sure that it was one of his father's ponies
that thus made known his presence.
It would have been the height of imprudence,
however, had he acted upon such a belief, after.
what had so recently occurred, and when a safe
and certain test was at his command.
He emitted a low tremulous whistle of such a
musical tone that it reached a goodly distance
in spite of the gale.
"That can be heard further than the neigh,
and, if it finds the ear of Jack, no one can restrain
him from coming to me."
But though the call was repeated there was
no response. The alarming conclusion was un-
avoidable: the sound had been made by an Indian
pony near at hand.
Aware that his own situation, despite the dark-
ness, was perilous, the youth sat down on the frosty
earth, near the edge of the bank, until he could
gain some idea of his bearings.
Within the next ten seconds the whinny was


repeated, and this time seemingly within a dozen
feet, but below the bank, and consequently between
him and the water.
He knew what it meant: the hostiles had crossed
the stream lower down, and were ascending it in
the search for the fugitives. But for the fact
that one of their ponies showed a strange lack of
training, the youth would have run right into
It might be that the reckless horse was a cap-
tured one!
They were so close, however, that Brinton did
not dare to flee, especially as he did not know in
which direction safety lay. He lay flat on the
earth, with his head just above the edge of the
bank, so that had there been any light he could
have seen what was going on below.
It is rare that a night is totally devoid of the
least ray of illumination. Brinton, therefore, could
never believe he was mistaken when, peering down
into the gloom, he fancied he discerned the shadowy
outlines of a horseman move slowly in front of
him, like the figure of the magic lantern. It
melted in the gloom, and then came another and
another, until he counted six. The sounds of the


hoofs on the hard ground removed the doubt which
otherwise he might have felt.
"The same party." was his thought; "one is
missing, and, if I am not mistaken, I had some-
thing to do with his disappearance."
A different noise came to his ears. One of the
bucks was making his pony climb the bank where
the slope was abrupt. The labour was hard, but
after a strenuous effort he stood on the earth
above. He was followed by the others in Indian
file, the ascent taking but a few minutes.
The disturbing feature about this business was
that the whole party had climbed the bank within
a dozen feet of where Brinton was lying, and they
halted when so near that he was half afraid some
of the horses might step on him.
Had there been any light in the sky he would
have felt they were trifling 'with him, as a cat
plays with a mouse.
But, if the hostiles could not see or detect his
presence, their horses were sure to discover that
a stranger was near.
"It's too bad!" thought Brinton, who, believing
that his own people were safe, was able to give
more thought to himself; "it looks as if there's


no getting rid of them. I think this is a good
time for me to leave."
For a single moment he was certain he was dis-
covered. One of the warriors uttered an exclama-
tion, and a slight sound showed that he had dropped
from his horse to the ground. The youth was
on the point of rolling over the edge of the bank
and taking to his heels, in the hope that the dark-
ness would allow him to escape, when, to his dis-
may, a tiny point of light flashed out of the
One of the hostiles had dismounted to light a
cigarette, placing himself so that his horse's body
kept off the wind.
Brinton's position gave him a good view of
the operation. The savage drew the match along
a portion of his blanket. The youth saw the slight
streak of light and heard the tiny sharp explosion
followed by the bursting into flame. The buck
shielded it with his curving hands, which were
raised to meet the stooping head, as it bent forward
with the cigarette between the lips.
The glare of the diminutive flame gave a pe-
culiar tint to the fingers, which caused them to
glow as if with heat. Then the reflection showed


the arched nose, the broad face, the serpent-like
eyes, and a few straggling hairs on the upper lip,
with a glimpse of the dangling locks, thrown for-
ward by the stoop of the head.
The glimpse was momentary, but it was clear
enough for Brinton to recognize the young Indian
as Wolf Ear, who he knew was fond of cigarette
smoking, that being one of the habits he had ac-
quired among civilised folk.
"I am sorry it wasn't you I shot from his
horse in mid-stream," was the resentful reflection
of him who had once been a devoted friend of the
The cigarette being lighted, the buck vaulted
upon the back of his pony, where he could be seen
by the fiery tip in the dense darkness.
Brinton wondered why the group of horsemen
remained where they were, instead of riding away.
That, like many other actions of theirs, was in-
comprehensible to him.
But while he lay flat on the ground, debating
what he should next do, if indeed he could do
anything, he was frightened by the discovery that
gradually but surely the figures of the Indians
and their ponies were coming into view.


The explanation was that the sky, which had
been overcast all day and a portion of the night,
was slightly clearing-not to any extent, but enough
to increase the peril of his own situation to an
alarming extent.
"It won't do to stay here any longer; I wonder
why they have not discovered me before; they
will do it in five minutes, if I remain."
His position was an awkward one for the move-
ment necessary, but he had no choice, and he began
stealthily working himself to the edge of the bank,
with the purpose of letting himself noiselessly over
to where he would be concealed from sight. All
might have gone well had he not forgotten a
simple thing. The edge of the bank gave under
his weight, and he slid downwards, as if taking a
plunge into the river, with the dirt rattling after
The noise, slight as it was, was certain to attract
the notice of the Indians, a few feet away. Brinton
knew this, and he did not wait to see the results.
With the nimbleness of a cat, he turned at the
moment of striking the bottom of the low cliff,
and bounding to his feet, ran along below the
bank at his utmost speed.


Had he continued his flight, quick disaster
must have followed; but with a thoughtfulness and
self-possession hardly to be expected, he abruptly
stopped after running a hundred feet and again
threw himself on his face, at the bottom of the
bank, and as close to its base as it was possible
for him to lie.
He knew that he could reach this point before
the hostiles would comprehend what had taken
place, and consequently before they would attempt
to pursue him. Since he had no chance against
their fleet ponies, he would have been speedily
run down had he continued his flight down the
river bed, for he heard the sound of their hoofs
as they dashed after him.
The pursuers were cunning. Their ears had
told them the course he had taken. Several forced
their animals down the bank, to prevent his turning
back over his own trail, while the others galloped
close to the edge above, all the party taking the
same direction. Thus it would seem that but one
desperate hope remained to him, which was to
dash into the river and struggle to the other side.
But the splash would betray him. The water was
probably deep enough to force him to swim. With


the thermometer below zero, and encumbered by
his clothing, he must perish with cold, if he did
not drown.
Where then was the hope of eluding the hos-
tiles, who were clinging so persistently to his track?
There was none excepting in the trick to which
he had resorted, and Brinton knew it.
He was no more than fairly nestled in his hiding-
place, when the clatter of hoofs showed that one
of the horsemen was almost upon him. He could
only hug the base of the bank, and pray for the
danger to pass. It did pass, but it was sure speedily
to return. It was this belief which led the
youth to resort to another artifice, that would
have done credit to an experienced ranger of the
Instead of turning about and running upstream
under the bank, he waited until the horsemen
above had also passed, and were invisible in the
gloom. Then he hastily clambered up the slight
bluff, rattling down the dirt again in a way that
sent a shiver through him. Had they been as
near as before, they must have certainly discovered
him; but if the noise or the crumbling dirt reached
the ears of any, they supposed it was caused by


some of their companions, for no effort at investi-
gation was made.
Upon solid ground once more, Brinton sped
straight out over the plain, and directly away
from the river, until he dared to pause, look around
and listen.
He saw and heard nothing to renew his fear.
"Can it be that I have shaken them off at
last?" he asked himself; "it begins to look like
it. Where under heaven can the folk be? I
hope they have pushed toward the Agency, and
nothing will happen to them."
Now it was that he detected something, so faint
and indistinct that at first he could not identify
it; but, while he wondered and listened, it resolved
itself into the sounds of a horse's hoofs. They
were not such as are made by an animal galloping
or trotting, but by walking. Furthermore, he heard
but the one series of footfalls.
A sudden impulse led Brinton to repeat the
whistle which he had vainly emitted some time
before, when groping along the bank of the Big
Cheyenne. Instantly a faint neigh answered, and
a pony assumed shape in the darkness as he ap-
proached on a joyous trot.


"My own Jack!" exclaimed the overjoyed
youth, flinging his arms about the neck of his
favourite and kissing his silken nose; "Heaven be
thanked that you are restored to me at last. But
where are the folk?"
Ay, where were they?

As he was on the point of giving up all hope of
ever seeing him again, Brinton Kingsland was natu-
rally overjoyed at meeting his favourite pony. The
situation of the young man would have proved
a sad one, had he been compelled to wander over
the prairie on foot, for he would have been liable
to encounter hostiles at any moment.
With the coming of daylight, he could hardly
expect to avoid detection by some of the numerous
bands galloping hither and thither, ready to pounce
upon any defenceless settlers, or to cut off the
squads of scouts and soldiers whenever there was
a chance of doing so with little peril to themselves.
And Jack showed as much delight as his master.
He thrust his nose forward, and whinnied softly
in response to the endearments of Brinton. Doubt-
less he had been searching for him for some time.
"I tell you, old boy, there are only three persons
whom I would rather see just now than you; I


won't mention their names, for you know them as
well as I do. Where are they? Surely they can't
be far off"
An examination of the horse disclosed that his
saddle and bridle were intact, thus proving that
he had not been in the hands of any enemies, who
indeed would not have allowed him to stray off
in this fashion.
Brinton placed his foot in the stirrup, and swung
himself astride of the intelligent beast, who capered
with pleasure at feeling his master once more in
the saddle.
Now that such good fortune had come to the
youth, he grew anxious about the dear ones from
whom he had been so strangely separated.
There was something in the way in which they
had drifted apart that perplexed him. The in-
terval in which it occurred was so brief that he
could not believe they were far asunder. The arrival
of Jack strengthened this belief, and now that he
was in the saddle again, he peered around in the
gloom, half expecting their forms to take shape and
come forward to greet him.
The partial clearing of the sky continued. No
snow-flakes drifted against him, but the moaning


wind was as biting and frigid as ever. The straining
gaze, however, could see nothing of horse or person,
though he clung to the belief that they were not
far away.
But with that conviction came the other of the
nearness of the dreaded red men. He had left
them on the bank of the Big Cheyenne, which was
not distant; and, failing to find him there, it was
natural for them to suspect the trick by which he
had escaped.
But nothing was to be done by sitting motion-
less on his horse. He ventured to pronounce the
name of his father, and then his mother, increasing
the loudness of the tone to an imprudent degree.
This was done repeatedly, but no answering call
was borne back to him.
Sound could not travel far against the wind on
such a blustery night, and they might be within
a hundred yards without his being able to hear
them or they to hear him.
He had absolutely no guide or clue, and despair
began to creep into his heart. He asked himself
what the result was to be if the aimless wandering
should continue through the night.
With the rise of the sun, Pine Ridge would be


still a good day's ride away, and it was too much
to hope that they would be permitted to gallop
unchallenged through the reservation.
"Jack," said he, addressing his pony in the odd
familiar way to which he was accustomed, "I can
do nothing; you will have to help us out. So
now show what you can do."
Whether the sagacious animal understood what
was asked of him can only be conjectured, but he
acted as if he did. He threw up his head, sniffed
the air, pricked his ears, and started off at an easy
swinging gallop.
Brinton's heart rose with hope.
"He must know where he came from; a horse
can teach the best hunter at such a time, and
Jack understands what he is doing."
The pony cantered but a comparatively short
way, when he dropped to a rapid walk, which grew
slower every moment. It was interesting to see
him turn his head and look from side to side, for
all the world as if searching for something which
he was surprised he did not find.
"You must be near the spot," said his master;
"don't make any mistake now, my boy."
He came to a standstill, still turning his head


from side to side, as if examining every point in
sight. There could be no doubt that he was dis-
appointed, as naturally was his rider also.
"I know this is the spot where you left them
to join me, but they are gone. I can do nothing:
everything depends on you, Jack, and you must
not fail me."
He resumed his deliberate walk, which was con-
tinued for only a short distance. When he halted
finally, his actions said as plainly as words-
"I give it up! I've done my best, and, like
you, am at my wits' end."
For a second time Brinton pronounced the
names of the loved ones, and while doing so, Jack
took three or four additional steps, then halted,
threw up his head, snorted, and trembled.
These signs were unmistakable: he had dis-
covered something. His master urged him for-
ward. He obeyed to the extent of a couple of steps,
and then refused to go further. Not only that, but
he shied to the left, and trembled more than before.
Brinton soothed him, and then leaned over the
saddle and looked into the gloom; and, as he did
so, he almost fell from his seat, because of the
shock and faintness from what he saw.


The first glance told him that something was
stretched on the frozen earth but a short distance
away. Further scrutiny revealed that it was a
man, lying motionless at full length.
"It is father!" was the thought of the son, who
was out of the saddle in a twinkling, and running
It was not the body of Hugh Kingsland, but
of a stranger. He had been a powerful man, who
had made a brave fight, and had only yielded to
superior numbers.
Brinton did not attempt any examination in
the darkness, for there was no need to do so. He
uttered a prayer for the unfortunate one, and for
those whom he must have left behind him, and
"Thank Heaven, it is not father! But who
can say how soon he, too, shall not be thus cut
down with mother and little Edith?"
He remembered that although this tragedy had
taken place so near him, and within the last hour
or two, he had heard no reports of guns nor any
sounds of conflict. That, however, was accounted
for by the direction of the wind, as already


Really nothing seemed left for him to do. He
had done everything in his power to find his friends
and failed. As long as night continued the faculty
of vision was useless to him.
"Well, Jack," he said despairingly, "do as you
choose; I am helpless."
As if in sympathy with his young master, the
pony moved off on a slow walk, which he continued
until, by some means, which Brinton hardly un-
derstood, he clambered down into a gully, similar
to the arroya in which they had taken shelter
that afternoon. In doing this, it is probable that
the animal was guided by that instinct which
prompts his kind to seek shelter from the severity
of the weather, for the refuge was a welcome one
to the rider as well as himself.
On the way thither and after arriving there,
Brinton signalled and called repeatedly to his parents.
The continued failure to bring a reply led him to
decide that nothing more could be done before
He flung himself off his pony, and made ready
to remain where he was until then. The gully
was narrow, and the banks at the point where he
drew rein were high enough to shut out the gale.


Food for himself and horse was out of the question,
and neither was suffering for want of it. The Big
Cheyenne had given to them all the water they
wanted; and physically, therefore, nothing in their
condition was specially unpleasant.
It would have been a great comfort to have had a
fire by which to nestle down, but two causes ren-
dered this impossible: no material was within reach,
and, if there had been, he would not have dared
to kindle it.
Jack's saddle was removed, and, in obedience
to the command of his master, he lay down on the
flinty earth, while Brinton disposed himself so as
to receive a part of the warmth of his body. Thus,
with the help of his own thick clothing, his situation
was more comfortable than would be supposed.
Despite his worry and anxiety, he soon fell
asleep, and did not open his eyes again until the
grey light of the wintry morning was stealing
through the gully. He was chilled and cramped
by his exposure, but leaping to his feet, he soon
restored his benumbed circulation. Jack, seeing
his master astir, sprang up, and looked at him as
if to announce that he was ready for any work
that was before them.


"Well, my boy, we shall have to go without
our breakfast, but you and I can stand that, I
reckon, for this thing must end before we are
many hours older--"
"Well, I'll be shot!"
The exclamation was uttered by a horseman,
who at that moment rode into sight in the gully
and checked his animal only a couple of rods
distant, adding-
"I didn't expect to meet you here, Brint; where
are the rest of the folk?"
"That's what I would like to know; I am worried
to death, Nick; can't you help us?"
"I'll do anything I can, my lad, but what is
The newcomer was Nicholas Jackson, serving
as a scout for General Miles. It will be remembered
that it was he who stopped at the home of the
Kingslands a short time before and warned them
of their danger. Had his advice been heeded,
they would not have been in such sore straits at
this time.
Brinton quickly told of his strange experience
of the night before and his perplexity as to what
he should do.


"I don't think anything has happened to them,"
was the reassuring response of Jackson, "for the
darkness was in their favour. They are hiding
somewhere in these gullies, just as you did, and
dare not show themselves."
"But how are we to find them ?"
"There's only one way I know of-look for
"What are you doing here, Nick?"
"We learned at Wounded Knee that a com-
pany with supplies was to come from Rapid City,
and I have been sent out on a scout; an escort
is coming to bring them into camp. You have
heard of the battle at Wounded Knee Creek, I
suppose ?"
"Not a word."
The old scout compressed his lips and shook
his head.
"I have been in a good many scrimmages under
Generals Crook and Miles, but that was the hottest
half-hour I ever spent."
"How was it, Nick?"
"You know that the hostiles have been gather-
ing in the Bad Lands ever since this trouble began.
We have them pretty well surrounded, but there


must be a big fight before we wind up this serious
business. Two days before Christmas word reached
us that three thousand Indians, including six hun-
dred bucks, were there. You can understand how
much relief it was, therefore, to learn that Big
Foot, with a lot of Sitting Bull's fugitives on
Cherry Creek Reservation, had surrendered to
Colonel Sumner.
"That was all well enough, but while conduct-
ing the band of two hundred to the Missouri,
the next day, the whole lot escaped and hurried
south to join Kicking Bear and the rest of the
hostile. Then the trouble began.
"Four days later Little Bat, one of our Indian
scouts, discovered Big Foot and his band eight
miles north of Major Whiteside's camp on Wounded
Knee Creek, and four troops of the Seventh Cavalry
started for them, with me among 'em.
"As the hostiles spied us they formed a
long battle line, all with guns and knives, the
knives being in their cartridge belts outside their
"I tell you, Brint, things looked squally. We
could see the gleam of their black eyes, and the
way they scowled and glared at us showed that


nothing would suit 'em better than to drive their
knives to the hilts into every one of us.
"But Major Whiteside meant business. He
drew us up, too, in battle line. Just then Big
Foot was seen coming forward on foot. The major
dropped down from his saddle and went forward
to meet him.
"'Me ill,' said Big Foot, 'me want peace-my
people want peace- '
"The major was impatient.
"'I won't talk or parley with you,' he
broke in; 'it is surrender or fight; I await your
"'We surrender-we done so before, but could
not find you,' said Big Foot.
"I had my eye on the chief, who just then
turned and motioned with his arm to his own
battle line. They seemed to be looking for the
signal, 'cause the white flag was shown at once.
We rode forward quick like and surrounded them,
and a courier was sent off post haste for four troops
of the Seventh, and Leftenant Taylor's scouts to
help guard and disarm the party. They arrived
the same day. Big Foot had one hundred and
fifty warriors fully armed, with two hundred and


fifty squaws and many children. Despite the sur-
render, we all knowed trouble was coming, and it
was not long before it came, like one of them
Kansan cyclones"

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