Deerfoot in the Mountains, Edward Sylvester Ellis [e book reader online .txt] 📗

left to be scalped and despoiled by the victors, the stray horses also passing into the hands of the Assiniboines.
Amokeat was in full flight when, in dashing through a mass of undergrowth, he suddenly came face to face with eight or ten Assiniboines (probably the number was less). He was ambushed so cleverly that escape was out of the question. He would have resisted, however, had not one of his enemies called out that he wished to have a parley with him.
This warrior, who was the leader of the little party, told Amokeat that if he would swap the black stallion he rode for the pony of the Assiniboines, the chief would not be harmed, but would be left free to go to his own home. Had the grinning Nez Perce put his conclusion in English, it would have been something like this:
"I counted myself most fortunate, for what was to prevent the Assiniboines from shooting me from the back of the stallion and then taking him away with them? So the trade was made and he is now in the hands of the Assiniboines."


CHAPTER IV.
THE LAND OF THE ASSINIBOINES.
As Deerfoot listened to the story of the Nez Perce leader his gorge steadily rose, for the account was worse, if possible, than he had expected to hear. Not only did he resent the cool appropriation of his steed by Amokeat, but he read the proof of the cowardice of the chief, who had deserted his companions when in peril and then, instead of making a brave defence when cornered by the Assiniboines, had eagerly passed over to them the property of another in order to secure his own safety.
The Shawanoe could not trust himself any further in the presence of Amokeat, who sat on the back of his pony and looked serenely down in his face, exulting over his own escape from the revenge of an enemy.
"Amokeat is a dog!" exclaimed Deerfoot, compressing his lips, turning around and walking from the presence of the chief and his party. He was on the alert, for he half expected an attack from more than one of them. If they had such action in mind, it was changed by the command of the leader, who called to them to follow him as he resumed the journey toward his own village.
The Shawanoe had learned several important facts. Whirlwind had passed from the hands of the Nez Perces to those of a wandering band of Assiniboines, whose villages and hunting grounds lay well to the northeast, some below and some above the boundary line in the country of the Saskatchewan. Thither the Shawanoe would go, though knowing absolutely nothing of the region or the people. In his contemptuous scorn of Amokeat, Deerfoot did not so much as look behind him until the afternoon was nearly gone and night was closing in. Then, when he turned his gaze to the rear, he saw nothing of men or horses.
He was thinking hard. It was evident that the only course which promised hope was for him to keep to the trail left by the Nez Perces until he reached the scene of the fight. From that point he would be guided by the footprints of the Assiniboine animals. Of course there was no distinguishable difference between those of Whirlwind and the impressions made by any other of his species, but there ought to be little difficulty in keeping to the main trail until he ran the party down.
You will understand that a number of puzzling complications threatened. It might be that the Assiniboines would continue their hunting or raiding excursions for days, turning off and pushing to the south or east or west, with a view of attacking some of the tribes within United States territory. The Shawanoe hoped that such would be the course of the raiders, for it would simplify the situation. He would have a small party to operate against, instead of a whole village or tribe.
A singular difficulty presented itself. Deerfoot relied upon entering the Assiniboine settlements or joining the raiders without rousing any suspicion of his real errand. Then he would content himself in patience and await a chance of slipping off with Whirlwind. The likelihood of gaining such opportunity would be almost destroyed if his errand became known. Now, the danger of betrayal was in the stallion himself. He could not be made to understand the need of cunning and silence, but was sure to show his joy at sight of his owner. When this was observed by his captors, they would be certain to connect it with the long journey of the stranger, who would then have all he could do to guard his own life.
Reflecting over this probable phase of the situation, Deerfoot decided what his own conduct should be. He resolved that if Whirlwind made a rush for him, thereby revealing the truth, he would leap upon his back, throw himself forward, and send the steed flying off at the highest speed. There would be imminent risk of both being shot before they could pass beyond range, but the danger would be no greater than the Shawanoe had faced many times, and still he did not bear a scar upon his body.
His plan, however, was to rely upon subtlety. If he could succeed in locating his pet, he would keep out of the animal's sight until the crisis came. He knew Whirlwind was alive, and was not very far off. Less than two days previous he had passed over the same spot, and the trail left by him and his companions could be readily followed.
So it was that the young Shawanoe pressed forward with long, swift strides until the gloom shut out all sight of the footprints. He could calculate quite closely from the different landmarks the course followed by the Nez Perces, but he determined to run no chances. Time was too precious, and he was resolved not to go astray.
He was in a wild, mountainous country, interspersed with ridges, isolated peaks and lofty ranges. There were numerous valleys, canons, gorges and ravines, with stretches of wood and stunted undergrowth. The sound of falling waters, cascades and rapids was hardly ever absent. Naturally the horsemen had sought the most favorable route, keeping mainly to the valleys, but occasionally riding over elevated portions. Thus the course was easier for Deerfoot than it would have been had the party been on foot like himself. The Assiniboines were not likely to make haste, for they had no reason for doing so. With his long strides, his lope and occasional running, as the ground offered the chance, the pursuer knew he was gaining upon those whom he was so anxious to overtake.
When night had fairly come, Deerfoot sought out a place among the rocks in which to sleep. He did not look for food, nor did he so much as drink from the mountain stream that he heard rippling near at hand. It took some time to find a suitable spot for a bed. He fixed upon a cavity large enough for him to stretch out with his blanket wrapped about him. He could have readily kindled a fire, but preferred not to do so, since it was liable to draw the attention of wild animals, or possibly of those of his own race who might be in the vicinity. As it was, a prowling wolf or bear might threaten, but the youth felt no misgiving when, after spending a brief time in prayer, he lay down and speedily sank into slumber.
At the first streakings of light he was on his feet. Praying again, he fastened his blanket about his shoulders, knelt at the mountain stream, drank deeply, bathed face and hands and was off once more. No move was made toward procuring the morning meal, which most folks in his situation would have found indispensable.
The trail was clearly marked, but before resuming his pursuit Deerfoot climbed to the highest elevation near at hand and spent a few minutes in studying the surrounding country. The main features were similar to those already described, except perhaps in the increase of the ruggedness of the scenery. He was within the Rocky Mountain district, but kept mainly to the foothills, where journeying was easier than among the mountains themselves.
Noting that the general course of the trail he was following up was from the northeast, he scanned with special interest the country in that direction. He picked out a point some twenty miles distant as the place where the Nez Perces were most likely to have made one of their camps. While he might have shortened the time by keeping a direct line to it, he stuck to his resolution not to turn aside from the trail.
Though he did not catch sight of any horseman, he saw that which roused his curiosity. Hardly a mile away he observed a single Indian coming toward him on foot. It may be said the stranger leaped into view, for Deerfoot was looking over a certain spot at the country beyond when a peculiar, flitting movement caused him to depress his glass to learn the cause.
The Indian seemed to have been following a roughly marked path, when he came to a huge boulder, which, instead of passing around, he climbed, walked across the top, and then dropped to the ground again. It was this action which caused Deerfoot to turn his gaze upon him.
Under the glass the stranger was seen with as much distinctness as if he were only a few rods distant. When looking at him the Shawanoe, for the first time in his life, saw a dwarf belonging to his own race. The man had broad shoulders and body and sturdy legs, but his height could not have been more than four and a half feet. Moreover he was very bow-legged, was a hunchback, had a broad mouth, a flat nose and small twinkling eyes. His long black hair dangled loosely about his shoulders, he was clad in a hunting dress similar to that worn by the Shawanoe, except that he was without a blanket, and his clothing was much shabbier. He carried a bow fully double his own length, and advanced with a curious sidelong, wabbling gait, which accented more strikingly his difference from those of his own people.
When the astonished Deerfoot had noted these peculiarities, he scanned the vicinity of the dwarf for his companions. None was seen, and our friend decided that the fellow was entirely alone. It was impossible to make a guess as to the tribe to which he belonged, though Deerfoot suspected, without any particular reason, that he was an Assiniboine. As to how he came to be by himself, and traveling southward, no theory could be formed by the astute Shawanoe.
The latter lowered his glass, and, standing in full view, watched the hunchback as he drew near with his crab-like, wabbling gait. Although the Shawanoe was a much more conspicuous object on the landscape, it was evident the other did not discover him until he was almost within a hundred yards. No better proof could have been asked that the stranger was afflicted with poor eyesight.
Suddenly he descried the form on the rocks and stopped short. He was startled. Then he began hurriedly drawing an arrow from the bundle hung behind his shoulder. It was a curious coincidence, which caught Deerfoot's notice, that the dwarf was left-handed like himself. The latter laid his gun at his feet and raised both hands above his head, a sign of friendship. The stranger paused in his warlike preparations, but seemed in doubt whether to launch a missile or to accept the sign of comity. Deerfoot picked up his weapon, held his other hand over his head, and began carefully descending the elevation. He kept a close