Two Boys in Wyoming: A Tale of Adventure<br />(Northwest Series, No. 3), Edward Sylvester Ellis [i want to read a book .TXT] 📗

lot. You mustn't forgit that we're purty close to the Wind River Injin Reservation, where the Government has several tribes under charge."

This was news to the boys. Hazletine explained that a large tract of land to the northwest and close to the mountains had been set apart some years before by the United States Government for exclusive occupancy by several tribes of Indians. They owned the land, and no white man had the right to intrude upon them.

In the Southwest, where the Apaches were placed on reservations, there had been the most frightful trouble, for those Indians are the worst in North America. All our readers know how many times the fierce Geronimo and a few of his hostiles broke away from their reservation, and, riding swiftly through Arizona and New Mexico, spread desolation, woe and death in their path. Not until Geronimo and his worst bucks were run down in old Mexico and transported bodily to the East was the danger to the Southwest terminated.

Nothing of the kind has taken place in Wyoming, Montana, the Dakotas and other reservations further east, but there is always a certain number of malcontents on the reservations who cause trouble. They steal away unnoticed by the authorities, and engage in thieving, and, when the chances are favorable against detection, commit graver crimes.

"That Injin that come into the timber last night was a sort of dog Injin that had come down from the Wind River Reservation to find out what he could steal."

The boys looked at each other in astonishment. They had made no reference to the visitor in the hearing of the guide, and could not understand where he had gained his knowledge. He noticed their surprise, and smiled.

"I seed the tracks of his pony, as well as his own. It was as plain to me as the words of a printed book. Why didn't you shoot the chap?"

Thus appealed to, Jack told the story. Hazletine listened with an expression of amused contempt on his bearded face.

"You'll git over that afore you've been here long. I think I know who he was. Tell me how he looked."

Jack was able to give a good description of his visitor, and before it was finished the guide nodded his head several times.

"It was him, Motoza, one of the worst scamps west of the Mississippi."

"What do you suppose he was after?"

"He'll steal anything he can lay his hands on. If he'd found us all asleep he'd shot every one of us. That's the kind of a feller Motoza is. You played it well on him, catching him as you did, but you'd played it a hanged sight better if you'd put a bullet through him afore you asked any questions."

"What tribe does he belong to?"

"That's a queer part of it. Gin'rally it's easy to tell from the dress, paint and style of an Injin what his tribe or totem is, but there's nothing of the kind 'bout Motoza to guide you. I think he's a Sioux."

"I understood those red men live further to the eastward."

"So they do; but Motoza has wandered from his people. He was under Sitting Bull, and went with him into British America when it got too hot on this side of the line; but Sitting Bull come back, and Motoza follered. He tries to make b'leve he's a good Injin, and sometimes he is for months at a time on the reservation. Then the devil gits into him, and he's off somewhere."

While this conversation was going on the three had mounted their ponies and were galloping northward, this time trending to the right, so as to draw away from the mountains and follow an almost direct line to Bowman's ranch, their destination. The animals were so fresh and spirited that Hazletine said he was hopeful of sleeping that night in the ranch itself, as he called the low, flat building where he and several cowmen made their home when in that part of the country attending to their duties.

It would take hard riding, and would lead them into the night to accomplish the long journey, but the guide saw no reason why it should not be done. If a storm came up—and they break with amazing suddenness at times in that part of the world—or if any mishap befell their ponies, a stop would have to be made for the night before reaching the ranch.

Jack Dudley decided to ask a question that had been in his mind for some time.

"Hank, that Indian last night was in my power, and he knew it as well as I, but I spared his life and allowed him to ride away without a hair of his head harmed. Now, don't you think he will feel some gratitude for that?"

Hazletine threw back his head with uproarious laughter. He seemed to have heard the best joke of a twelvemonth.

"What give you that idee?" he asked, when he succeeded in mastering his exuberant mirth.

"Why, the event itself. I know that an Indian is revengeful by nature, but I have always believed that he was capable of gratitude for kindness."

"You've read that in story-books, but you never seed it in life. I won't be quite as rough as that," added the guide, in the same breath; "I have seen a redskin that didn't furgit that a man had saved him from dying or being shot, but such redskins are as scarce as hen's teeth. The rule is that they take all such kindnesses as signs of cowardice, and despise the one that shows 'em. Let me tell you something that I know," continued Hazletine, seriously. "Three years ago, when I was down in Arizona, Jim Huber was the owner of the ranch where I was working. He b'leved in treating Injins kindly. I've seen him give the 'Paches water to drink when they was thirsty, meat to eat, 'bacca to smoke, and even powder and ball for their guns. He kept that up right along, and when he was warned agin it, he said an Injin was human like the rest of us, and he was willing to take his chances. The 'Paches wouldn't furgit what he'd done fur 'em.

"Wal, they didn't. The fust thing we knowed, Geronimo and a dozen of his devils was off their reservation and coming down through them parts like a Kansas cyclone. It happened that me and the boys was several miles off when we heerd the news, and knowing that Huber was alone at the ranch, we rid like all mad fur the place. We got there too late to save him. The ranch was on fire, and he was mangled so we hardly knowed him. But he had died game, and killed two of the 'Paches afore he went under. The three laid aside one another, and the two Injins was the very ones that had set at his table, eat of his food, been given powder and ball, and been treated like brothers."

"Are all red men as bad as that?"

"I've just said they wasn't. There's lots of 'em that would make an ordinary white man ashamed of himself. But most of 'em are alike. What I'm driving at is to knock out of your head any idee that this Motoza that you let up on last night thinks any more of you for it. It's t'other way. He despises you fur a coward, and if he ever gits the chance he'll prove what I say is true."

This was depressing information for the youths, but they did not think it seeming to express any doubts of the sentiments of one who was so much better informed than they. They hoped that their own experience would be of a different nature.

Having set out with the intention of reaching the ranch that evening, the guide had made the necessary preparations. He rolled up enough cooked pieces of veal to avert the need of starting another fire and looking for more food. So it came about that when the boys began to consult their watches and hint of it being near meal time, he drew rein at another stream of water, where the ponies were allowed to rest and graze while their masters refreshed themselves. The animals had been pressed as much as was prudent; and Hazletine, looking at the sky and their surroundings, said they were making better progress than he had counted upon.

The weather remained all that could be desired, though he assured them that a heavy rain-storm was impending, and would break within twenty-four hours—an additional incentive for pushing forward.

They were hardly ever out of sight of cattle. Sometimes they were few in numbers, and then they suggested the droves of buffaloes, which, before the animals were extirpated, numbered hundreds of thousands. Once the horsemen approached so close that the cattle were frightened and a partial stampede followed. That Hazletine was among acquaintances was proved by the hails which he received from cowmen, most of whom were so distant that the wonder was how they recognized one another. The boys studied them through their spy-glasses, but, of course, all were strangers to them.

When the afternoon was about half gone they came upon a stream that looked formidable. It was a hundred yards in width, with a roiled and rapid current, which, so far as the eye could determine, might be a score of feet in depth. The prospect of having to swim their ponies across was anything but pleasant, but the boys saw that a well-marked trail led down to the bank where they approached it, showing that it had been crossed and recrossed many times.

"There are places in that stream, which flows into the Platte," said the guide, "where it is a hundred feet deep. It has whirlpools and eddies where the best swimmer couldn't save himself, and even a grizzly bear would drown."

"I hope those places are a good way off," said Jack.

"There's one of 'em right over there to the left."

"How are we going to reach the other side?" asked Fred, in dismay.

"Foller me."

As he spoke the guide spurred his animal into the muddy water, with the boys timidly at his heels and closely watching him.

At no time during the fording did the ponies sink above their knees. It was a surprise and vast relief when they rode out on the other side without having been compelled to draw up their feet during the passage.

"And yet," explained their companion, "if you'd gone three yards to the right or left your critters would have had to swim for their lives, and you'd have had the worst soaking you ever knowed. Now fur the ranch!"

CHAPTER VI. AT THE RANCH.

The night was well advanced, and the boys, despite their fine physique, felt the effects of the prolonged ride. They had come a goodly distance since morning, the tough little ponies most of the time maintaining a sweeping canter, which placed many miles behind them. Jack and Fred were stiffened, tired and hungry, for no halt was made for supper, it being the intention of the guide to take that meal at the ranch, which he meant to reach before drawing rein.

In the midst of the monotonous gallop of the animals the youths were startled by the sound of a laugh, which suddenly rang out on the still air. It was brief and hearty, such as a man emits who is highly pleased over something said by a companion. There was no moon in the sky, but the starlight was as bright as on the previous evening. Peering ahead in the gloom, nothing was to be seen that explained the singular sound.

"Did you hear that?" asked Jack of Hazletine.

"I s'pose you mean that laugh? Not being deaf, it would have been cur'us if the same hadn't reached my ears."

"What was the meaning of it?"

"It meant, I s'pose, that somebody was pleased."

The lads had to be satisfied with this indefinite answer, but they did not have to wait long for the explanation. Suddenly, from the obscurity ahead, loomed the outlines of a building. It was long, low, and flat, consisting of a single story, like most of the structures in that section of the country.

At the same moment that it was observed, a tiny point of light shone through the gloom, and some one called to them:

"Is that you, Hank?"

"I reckon," was the reply.

At the same moment a tall man, rising from the stool on which he had been seated, came forward. He was smoking a pipe, and the gleam of the fire in the bowl was what had been noted before he became visible.

"These are the younkers we expected," explained Hazletine, "and, if I ain't mistook, they've brought a purty healthy appetite with 'em."

"I've heard of such things afore. Howdy?"

The man, who was known as "Kansas Jim," his full name