The Young Ranchers: or, Fighting the Sioux

CHAPTER XIII.

IN THE FRINGE OF THE WOODS

Fully realizing the mistake he had made in waiting, the rancher now did his best to improve the precious time at his disposal.

His own pony had remained obediently near his companion, while the brush was going on between his master and the Sioux on the other side of the stream. The former hastily climbed into the saddle, and taking the reins in hand, looked at his wife.

"Are you ready, Molly?"

"I have been for a long time."

"Come on; keep close to me."

He spoke briskly to his horse, who broke into a swift gallop, which was imitated so promptly by the other that the couple advanced abreast toward the wooded section. It was no time for conversation, and the progress continued in silence.

The snow was now falling thick and fast, and the gloom had deepened to that extent that they could not see objects more than a hundred feet away. Both wife and husband continually glanced behind them, for they were almost certain that the red men were in the act of crossing the stream at the moment the start was made, and could not be far to the rear.

True, the fugitives had much in their favor. The keen eyes of the pursuers could detect their trail in the snowy ground, but not for long. By and by they might trace it only by dropping down from their ponies and using the sense of feeling. This would compel them to proceed carefully, and hold them well to the rear while the whites were using the occasion to the utmost, and continually gaining ground. Had the route to Fort Meade been level and unobstructed, they could have asked nothing more favorable. They would have forced their ponies to the utmost, and by the time the sun rose the vengeful red men would be placed hopelessly behind.

The straining vision saw nothing but the darkness and snow in the direction of the stream already crossed, but they could never feel relieved of the dreadful fear until safely within the military post of the Black Hills.

"Oh, papa, I see a horse!" was the startling exclamation of Dot, whom her mother had supposed, because of her stillness and immobility, to be asleep.

"Where?" demanded her father, grasping his Winchester and looking affrightedly around.

"Not there," replied the child with a laugh, working her arm out of its environments, and pointing ahead.

A solitary animal was observed standing as motionless as a statue a short distance in advance. Apprehensive of some trap by the Indians, the father brought his pony to a sudden stop, his wife instantly imitating him, and both peered ahead at the strange form.

They could see no rider, though there was something on the animal's back, which might have been a warrior lying flat, so as to protect his body from the rifle of the white man, or, what was equally probable, the owner was standing on the ground hidden by the horse, and awaiting his chance to send in a fatal shot.

"What's the matter?" asked Dot, puzzled by the action of her parents.

"S-h! We are afraid a bad Indian is there."

"Why, can't you see that's Jerry?"

Jerry was the name of the pack pony.

"Of course it is. Why didn't we think of it?" asked the father the next moment, relieved beyond measure by the discovery.

Jerry seemed to be of the opinion that it was the place of his friends to make the advances, for he did not stir until they rode up beside him.

The lazy fellow was found with his load intact. He had been given all the time he could ask for his journey to this point, and evidently was a little sulky over the treatment received at the hands, or rather the foot, of his master, for his head had to be jerked several times before he faced about, and then it required more vigorous treatment to force him into a lazy gallop.

Luckily, the greater part of the plain had been crossed before this reunion took place, and the party had not gone far when the rancher allowed the animals to drop to a walk. In front loomed a dark mass, which he recognized as the fringe of the wood observed from the bank of the stream behind them. Through this it was necessary to thread their way with extreme care, owing to the darkness and their unfamiliarity with the ground.

Upon reaching the edge of the wood the fugitives came to a stand-still.

Slipping from his saddle, the rancher brushed away the snow at his feet and pressed his ear against the ground.

"I can hear nothing of them," he remarked, resuming the upright posture; "I am quite hopeful that that party will molest us no more."

"It won't do to count on it," were the wise words of his wife.

"I think you had better dismount and lead your pony," said the rancher; "we can mount again when through the wood; there will be less danger from the trees and limbs, and you and Dot must be cramped from sitting so long."

He helped them to the ground. It was a relief indeed to both, for they had kept their places on the back of the horse for a number of hours. Dot yawned, stretched her limbs, and felt as though nothing would delight her so much as a frolic in the snow. The thoughtful mother had provided her not only with thick, strong shoes, but with heavy stockings, leggings, and warm clothing, with which she was well protected against the storm that was impending when they left their home.

Nothing could have better shown the childish innocence of her nature than her action in slyly removing her mittens, stooping down, packing a wad of snow with her hands and flinging it against her father's face, with a merry laugh.

"Gracious, Dot! how you startled me!" he said, looking around at her.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No; but don't speak or laugh so loud, for some of the bad Indians may be near."

"I forgot about that, but I'm going to hit Jerry, for he is so lazy he needs it."

And the indolent animal received a tiny whack from the snowy missile projected by the chubby hand of the child. He seemed to think, however, that it was no more than a snowflake, for he did not give even an extra wink of the eye.

The delay was only momentary, when the rancher, with one hand grasping the bridle-rein and the other parting the limbs and bushes in front, began groping his way through the growth of timber, where it was so dark that everyone's eyes were practically useless.

Directly behind the horse walked Dot, with her mother next, leading her pony, and the pack-horse bringing up the rear.

Ten minutes of this cautious progress and the leader checked himself with an impatient expression.

"What is it?" called the wife, in a guarded voice.

"Another stream of water."

"Do you know anything about it?"

"Nothing; I came near tumbling into it, with Dick on top of me; if he hadn't scented it first I would have done so."

"What is to be done?" asked Mrs. Starr, as grievously disappointed as her husband.

"I'm blessed if I know; it may be half a mile deep and ten miles across, with a perpendicular bluff a thousand feet high on the other side."

Leaving her pony, the wife took the hand of Dot and joined him where he had halted on the edge of the unknown stream.

"I've made up my mind that we shall do one thing right away," he remarked decisively.

"What's that?"

"Eat supper while we have the chance; Jerry is on hand with the provisions, and he may be somewhere else in the morning."

"I'm glad of that," said the happy Dot, "for I'm awfuller hungry than I ever was in all my life."

"Then supper it is."

CHAPTER XIV.

TURNED BACK

It was a wise proceeding on the part of the rancher. The opportunity to make a substantial repast was theirs, and as he had remarked, there was no certainty when it would come again.

The bag in which the provisions were placed was taken from the back of Jerry, and the father helped his child and wife, who ate until they were fully satisfied. He dipped up water with Dot's small tin cup from the stream in front, and with it their thirst was slaked.

"Molly," he suggested, "you can carry one or two of the sandwiches without inconvenience."

"Yes."

"Let us both do so; we may lose Jerry, and if so, they will come in handy."

"I have a couple, too," said Dot.

"It isn't best that you should burden yourself with them."

"But I can't help it, papa."

"How is that?"

"They're inside of me," and the parents, even in their great dread, smiled at the odd conceit of the little one, who chuckled softly to think how she had "fooled" her papa.

The delay was brief. The rancher knew that it was impossible to reach Fort Meade without crossing the stream before them, with the probability that still others awaited them at no great distance. It can be understood with what depth of dread he contemplated swimming the animals over, with the certainty of the saturation of all their garments, on this winter night, and the cold steadily increasing.

In short, it meant perishing, unless a fire was kindled, in which case, a delay would be necessitated that would throw away all the advantage secured by flight. He was determined not to do it, unless actually driven to it as a last resource.

He did not forget that he was now where there was an abundance of material with which a raft could be constructed that would obviate this exposure, but the building of such a rude craft, under the circumstances, was next to impossible. He had no implement except his pocket knife, and might grope about in the darkness for hours without getting together enough timber to float them to the other side.

Obviously one of two things must be done – try to cross where they were or follow the bank down until a fording place could be found, and repeated trials were likely to be necessary before success was obtainable.

Singular it is that so often out of the mouths of babes are heard the words of wisdom.

The rancher had risen to his feet, and was in the act of mounting his pony to enter the water, when Dot spoke:

"Why don't you let Dick go ahead and you ride behind on Sally?"

"Well, I declare!" exclaimed the father admiringly; "I begin to believe that if we reach the fort, it will be through your guidance, my precious little one," and, stooping over, he kissed her cheek.

"Strange that we did not think of that," remarked the mother. "Dot is wise beyond her years."

The plan was adopted at once.

The mare ridden by the mother and child, and the horse of the father, were so intelligent that no risk was involved in the essay, which insured against the immersion held in such natural dread.

The saddle and trappings were removed from Dick, while the rancher mounted upon the side-saddle belonging to his wife. Then the horse was ordered to enter the water, and, with some hesitation, he obeyed, his owner being but a step or two behind on the mare.

The gloom was so deep that the hearing, and not the sight, must be depended upon. That, however, was reliable when nothing was likely to occur to divert it from its duty.

The stream was no more than fairly entered when the rancher made two unwelcome discoveries: The current was much stronger than he had anticipated, and the water deepened rapidly. Ten feet from shore it touched the body of the mare.

Inasmuch, however, as Dick was still walking, there was hope that the depth might increase no more, or, at most, not to a dangerous extent.

Mr. Starr could not see his own horse, but he plainly heard him as he advanced cautiously, feeling his way, and showing by his sniffing that the task was anything but pleasant to him. Not knowing the width of the stream, it was impossible to tell in what portion of it they were: but he was already listening for the sounds which would show that his animal was climbing out on the other side, when the very thing he feared took place.

A loud splash, followed by a peculiar rustling noise, showed that Dick was swimming.

At the same moment the mare sank so deeply that, had not the rider thrown his feet backward along her spine, with his body extended over the saddle and her neck, he would have been saturated to the knees. As it was, Sally was within a hair of being carried off her feet by the force of the current.

The rancher drew her head around, and, after a sharp struggle, she held her own, and began laboring back to the shore she had left; putting forth such vigor that it was plain the task was far more agreeable than the one upon which she first ventured.

Meanwhile, Dick was swimming powerfully for the farther bank, and before his owner could think of calling to him, owing to his own flurry, he heard his hoofs stamp the hard earth. True, he had landed, but that brief space of deep water was as bad as if its width were ten times as great; it could not be passed without the saturation of the garments of all, and that, as has been said, was not to be endured.

Before the mare could return Mr. Starr called to his pony, and the animal promptly obeyed, emerging only a minute after the mare from the point where he had entered.

"It's no use," he said to his waiting wife and little one; "there is one place where the horses must swim."

"Did you get wet, papa?" enquired Dot, solicitous for his welfare.

"No; but I came mighty near it."

"Then I suppose we must follow down the stream, and try it elsewhere," said the wife.

"Yes, with the discouraging fact that we are likely to pass a dozen fordable points, and strike a place that is deeper than anywhere else."

The saddles were readjusted, and the move made without delay. Since it was hard to thread their way through the wood, which lined the stream only a short distance from the water, they withdrew from it to the prairie, where travelling was easier.

Reaching the open plain, but keeping close to the margin of the timber, from which, fortunately, they had emerged at a point considerably removed from that of the entrance, the rancher repeated the precaution he had used before.

"Wait a moment," he said, in a low voice.

Once more the snow was brushed aside at his feet and the ear pressed against the ground.

To his dismay he heard the tramp of horses' hoofs on the hard earth.

"They are near at hand!" he said, in a startled whisper; "we must get away as quickly as we can."

He hastily helped his wife and little one on the back of the mare, mounted his own animal, and, with the pack-horse at the rear, moved along the timber on a rapid walk, continually peering off in the gloom, as though it was possible for him to see the Sioux, who certainly were at no great distance.

One fear troubled him: Suppose they should resort to the same artifice as he, and one of them appeal to the earth for evidence. He would be equally quick to discover the proximity of the fugitives, and with his sense of hearing trained to the finest point by many years' exercise, would locate the whites with unerring precision.

CHAPTER XV.

MISSING

But there was no avoiding the risk. In silence the little party threaded their way along the margin of the prairie, listening for the sounds they dreaded to hear, and peering through the gloom for the forms they held in unspeakable fear. Not until they had progressed several hundred yards can it be said that the rancher breathed freely. Then he checked his pony, and those behind him did the same.

The next instant he was out of the saddle, with his ear once more against the cold earth.

Not the slightest sound reached him through this better conductor. If the Sioux horsemen were moving, they were too far off for the fact to be known. When first heard, they must have been close to the wood, on reaching which they undoubtedly dismounted and advanced on foot.

In that event, they must detect the footprints of the ponies in advance, and with their skill in trailing were certain to learn of the course taken by the whites. Then the pursuit would be resumed in earnest, and the perils would increase.

One possible remedy suggested itself, though there was no certainty of its success. The snow was now falling so fast that it promised to obliterate the footprints to that extent that they could not be followed in the dark. As it was, even the lynx eyes of the Sioux could avail them nothing. One of their number must be continually dismounting and using his hands to make sure they were not off the track. A half hour or more interval, and this resource would be taken from them by the descending snow.

It was this belief which caused the rancher to ride Dick among the trees, where he and the rest dismounted. Then they groped forward with no little difficulty for some rods and halted.

"Be careful," he said, speaking particularly to Dot, "and do not make any noise, for I believe those bad Indians are not far off, and they are looking for us."

Dot showed her obedience by not venturing to whisper.

It was not Mr. Starr's purpose to lose time by staying where they were. Accordingly, after threading their way for some distance farther, he emerged once more on the plain, and, as they remounted, rode straight away from the timber.

The object of this stratagem can be readily understood. The pursuing Sioux, after discovering that the trail of the fugitives led along the margin of the wood, were likely to override it for some way, before learning the fact. Then they would turn about and hunt until they found it again. The fact that at that point it entered the timber must cause another delay, where the difficulty of tracing the whites would be greatly increased. By the time they came back again to the open plain, the fall of snow was likely to render further pursuit almost, if not quite, impossible.

This was the theory which guided the rancher's actions, though he was too wise to lose sight of the probability of serious miscalculations on his part. There was another danger, however, of which he failed to think, but which was not long in manifesting itself.

By shifting his course so often, and leaving the stream altogether, he was sure to lose his bearings in the darkness. Instead of following the most direct route to Fort Meade, he was liable to turn back on his old trail, with the result that when the sun rose in the morning he would be in the vicinity of his home, with the environing perils more threatening than ever.

Beyond all question this would have been the result had not nature come to his help. He was on the point of turning his pony's head around, to re-enter the timber he had left, when he discovered to his astonishment that he had already reached it. There were the trees directly in front, with the nose of Dick almost touching a projecting limb.

He was at a loss to understand it until his wife suggested that the winding course of the stream was responsible for the situation. Even then he hardly believed until investigation convinced him that it was the same swift current flowing in front.

"We unconsciously strayed from a direct course, and must have been going at right angles to the correct one."

"There is no saying, George; only I advise you not to make too many experiments in the darkness. Several hours have passed since night came, and we are not making much progress toward the fort."

"You are quite right," was the nervous response, "but safety seemed to demand it. How are you standing it, Dot?"

The child made no answer.

"She is asleep," whispered the mother.

"I hope that it may last until morning. If you are tired of holding her in your arms I will take her."

"When I grow weary of that," was the significant reply of the wife, "I will let you know."

Inasmuch as the continually obtruding stream must be crossed, and the precious hours were fast passing, the rancher gave every energy to surmounting the difficulty.

As he led the way once more to the edge of the water, he asked himself whether the wisest course was not to construct a raft. The work promised to be so difficult, however, that he would have abandoned the thought had he not come upon a heavy log, lying half submerged at the very spot where he struck the water.

"This will be of great help," he said to his wife.

Leaning his Winchester against the nearest tree, he drew out his rubber safe and struck a match. The appearance of the log was encouraging, and after some lifting and tugging he succeeded in rolling it into the stream.

That ended the matter. To his chagrin, the water-soaked wood sank like so much mud.

"We won't experiment any longer," concluded the disappointed rancher; "but try the same thing as before."

Dick was stripped again and put in the lead, with his master following on the back of the mare. Mrs. Starr, being helped to the ground, stood with the sleeping Dot in her arms, awaiting the return of her husband from his disagreeable experiment.

"Heaven grant that this maybe the right place," was his prayer, as he entered upon the second essay; "if we are turned back again I shall be in despair."

His interest was intensified, for he was impressed with the belief that this was to be the decisive and final test.

As if Dick, too, felt the seriousness of the situation, he stepped resolutely forward, bracing himself against the strong current which was heard washing about his limbs. It seemed to the anxious rancher that he could discern the figure of his pony as he led the way through the gloom, only a short distance in advance of the mare.

When certain that they were fully half-way across, his heart began to beat with hope at finding that the water did not touch the stirrup in which one foot rested. It was plain also that the leading horse was still firmly wading.

With a relief which possibly may be imagined, the horseman heard Dick step out on the bank a few minutes later. He had waded the whole distance, thus proving that the stream was easily fordable at that point.

The delighted rancher could hardly repress a cheer. But for his fear that the Sioux might be in the vicinity, he would have announced the joyous fact to his wife.

"Perhaps, however, her sharp ears have told her the truth," was his thought, as he wheeled the mare about and started to return, leaving Dick to follow him, as he would be needed to help the party over.

With never a thought of danger, the animal was forced hastily through the water, coming out a few paces below where she had entered it.

"We are all right," he called; "we will be over in a jiffy."

To his astonishment there was no response. He pronounced his wife's name, but still no reply came. Then he moved up and down the bank, stirred by an awful fear, but heard and found her not.

CHAPTER XVI.

A THIEF OF THE NIGHT

When the rancher entered the current with the two ponies, the interest of the wife, who remained behind with little Dot, was centred wholly in his effort to ford the stream. She stood on the very margin of the water, where, though unable to see the form of the rider or either of the animals, she could hear the sound made by them in passing through the current.

In this position, the pack-pony remained a few steps behind her and about half-way to the open plain. The child, who had been somewhat disturbed by the shifting about of herself, had fallen asleep again and rested motionless in her arms, with her form nestling in the protecting blanket.

Everything was silent except the slight noise caused by the animals in the water. In this position, with her nerves strung to the highest point, and her faculties absorbed in the single one of hearing, she caught a suspicious sound immediately behind her. It was as if Jerry was moving from the spot where he had been left.

Fearful of his going astray, her lips parted to speak, when, fortunately, she held her peace. It might be that some person was the cause of his action.

With the purpose of learning the truth, she stole through the timber toward the spot where he was standing a few minutes before. She was so close behind him, and moved so much faster, that she reached the open plain almost on his heels. Despite the gloom, she could make out his figure; and her feelings may be imagined when she distinguished the form of a Sioux warrior leading him.

Not only that, but the thief paused as soon as the open prairie was reached and lightly vaulted upon his back, beside the load already resting there. Then he hammered his heels against his ribs and the lazy beast rose to a jogging trot, immediately disappearing in the snow and darkness.

The wife, as may be supposed, was dumfounded and uncertain what to do, if indeed she could do anything. At the moment when it looked as if all danger was past, one of their enemies had unexpectedly stolen their pack-pony.