Ted Strong in Montana

  CHAPTER XXVII.

  THE BEEF ISSUE.

  When Bud and the boys rode into the herd to cut out the five hundredhead of cattle, the four officers went away to inspect the animals asthey came out, leaving Ted to talk to the two girls.

  Nothing was said about the unpleasant interview on the colonel's verandathe evening before, but Stella laughingly told how she had decided atthe last moment to follow the fortunes of the boys, and had dragged heraunt off to Montana without giving her time to think about it.

  While they were chatting the colonel rode up.

  "Mr. Strong, I wish you would come up to headquarters and get yourvoucher for these cattle before you go. I should like you to dine withus, also."

  "Please do, Ted," said Stella. "Then you can ride back to camp with auntand I. I have been trying to persuade Hallie to join our party for aweek or two, and experience the joys and excitement of the cattletrail."

  "I should like very much to go with you, but----"

  Miss Croffut looked at her father with some apprehension.

  "If Mrs. Graham will consent to add to her burdens as a chaperon I haveno objections," said the colonel whose manner toward Ted had been simplyreversed by the independence and manliness the broncho boys hadexhibited.

  "We should be very glad to have you with us, Miss Croffut," said Ted."And if you have never been on the long drive I believe you would findmuch that would interest you."

  "Then it's all settled," cried Stella. "I'm sure aunt would be delightedto have you, and you will like the boys. They are like a lot of brothersto me, only they are better than most brothers, for they let me do whatI please, and are a help instead of a nuisance."

  They all laughed at Stella's estimate of the usefulness of brothers, androde away toward the fort, Ted leading the way with Miss Croffut, whomhe found to be an exceedingly interesting companion, and who expressedher love for riding and other outdoor sports.

  "We're going to see the beef issue," Stella called to Ted.

  "All right," he answered. "It will be some time before the cattle are upto the pens, and, in the meantime, we'll leave you there, and ride overto headquarters and settle the business end of it."

  The girls were left at the office of the Indian agent near the placewhere the cattle were to be issued to the Indians.

  Scattered over the prairie near the agent's office were the members ofthe tribe, waiting patiently for their portion of the fresh meat, which,at certain times of the year, Uncle Sam doled out to them.

  It was a savage sight. Here and there were the smoke-browned tepees ofthe Indians, before which sat the squaws and papooses, and the old menand women.

  The bucks, heads of families, strode back and forth majestically, withtheir rifles and old muskets in the hollow of their arms, while theyoung men and half-grown boys dashed here and there on their ponies.

  It was an animated scene, and the two girls looked at it curiously, forneither of them had seen anything like it before.

  While they were looking out of the window a shadow darkened the doorway,and they looked up to see a tall young buck Indian standing on thethreshold.

  He was very tall for a Northern Indian, and his broad, bronze-coloredface, with its high cheek bones, and prominent, aquiline nose, with theblack, beady eyes between, and the wide, loose-lipped mouth beneath,caused Miss Croffut to shudder unknowingly.

  To her there was something repulsive about the fellow. But Stella lookedat him boldly and inquiringly.

  "How?" grunted the Indian.

  "What you want?" asked Stella, in a business-like way.

  "Me want agent," he answered, with a leer, which evidently he intendedfor a smile of fascination.

  "Not here," said Stella sharply.

  "Where go?"

  "Get out."

  The Indian stared at her with an expression of amazement, whichgradually turned to one of admiration.

  "Heap good-looking squaw," he grunted.

  "Get out," said Stella again.

  She was not frightened, only disgusted.

  "Me Running Bear. Heap big chief. Heap rich. Heap brave. Running Bearwant white squaw. Heap other wives cook for white squaw. Make plenty reddress."

  When the Indian had first entered the room Stella thought that there wassomething decidedly familiar about the redskin, but when the name"Running Bear" fell from his lips, her worst fears were confirmed--thiswas the Indian with whom Ted had had trouble during the winter, when hehad broken up the Whipple gang.

  As he strode into the middle of the room, with his hand on the butt ofthe revolver that hung on his left hip, Miss Croffut uttered a faintscream.

  Stella was not exactly frightened, but she felt that there might be somedanger in being in the room with this Indian brute, with not a white manin hailing distance.

  When he got nearer she smelled liquor. Running Bear had been drinking,and Stella knew that a drinking Indian is a crazy Indian who will dothings he never would dream of doing when he is sober.

  She unconsciously felt for her own revolver, but it was not at her side.Then she remembered that she had left it at the colonel's house when shehad started out that morning.

  She eyed the Indian closely as he advanced farther into the room, andsaw that in the Indian's eyes there was a strange gleam. He reminded herof a snake about to devour its prey, as he moved toward her, almostimperceptibly, seeming not to move, and yet getting closer to her allthe time.

  Now he was quite close to her, and Hallie Croffut was sitting back inher chair gazing at the Indian with an expression of frozen horror onher face.

  "White squaw give Running Bear a kiss," gurgled the brute.

  Stella tried to scream, but her throat refused to give forth a sound. Itwas like the nightmare when one tries to scream for terror of the awfulshape that is about to menace, but cannot utter a sound.

  Somewhere outside she heard her name. It was Ted calling to her, but shecould not answer.

  Now the Indian was only a step away, and had reached out his arms tograsp her.

  Suddenly the door flew open, and there stood Ted Strong. But only for aninstant.

  With one leap he was into the room, and as the Indian turned, with thatbeastly leer still on his face, Ted was upon him.

  Catching the Indian by the collar, he swung him around, while at thesame time his left arm flew forward, and his fist struck the Indian'sjaw with a smash that sent his head back, and wrung a groan from him.Again and again the fist encountered the Indian's face, rocking his headhorribly, until it hung upon his shoulder, and then, with an exclamationof disgust, Ted flung the brute from him, and the inert body rolled intoa corner, where it lay still.

  "Oh, Ted," exclaimed Stella, "that Indian is Running Bear, with whom youhad trouble when putting the Whipple gang out of business."

  "I know it, but I don't think he'll bother us any more. Come, girls,"said Ted, "it's time to go out and see the beef issue. They're readingthe names now, and the bucks are assembling."

  Outside a strange scene was being enacted. A clerk from the Indianagent's office was sitting on top of the fence of the cattle corralreading the names of the Indians from a large book.

  "Na-to-no-mah, John Fisher!" called the clerk, and a middle-aged Indianstepped forward listlessly and stood aside.

  "The first name is his Indian or tribe name," explained Ted. "The nameJohn Fisher is the name given him in Washington, so that the clerks willnot get him mixed with an Indian whose name is similar."

  So the reading went on, and after each name the clerk said "one" or"two," meaning that the owner of the name was entitled to one or twocows, according to the number of members of his family.

  "Running Bear!" called the clerk.

  There was no answer.

  "Running Bear! Where is Running Bear?" The clerk looked aroundanxiously, for Running Bear was a prominent Indian, and was entitled tothree cows, or as many as he could graft, and was never known to miss abeef issue. There were murmurs of wonder among the Indians at theabsence
of Running Bear, and the clerk was about to mark off his name,when he staggered out of the agent's house, groggy from the punishmenthe had received, with one eye a vivid green, and holding on to his jawas if he was afraid of losing it.

  "Ah, there you are, Running Bear," said the clerk. "You look as if youhad collided with a streak of lightning. What's the matter?"

  But the Indian only shook his head and pressed his jaw harder.

  "Reckon you've got the toothache, eh? Well, when you get your teethfastened into a piece of fresh bull meat you'll be all right."

  Running Bear gave one look, in which all the concentrated hatred of alifetime was to be seen. Then he turned away and went out to his tepee,where one of his squaws bound his jaw in a wet cloth.

  But the roll had been called, and the Indians stood expectant close tothe gate of the corral.

  While the clerk stood up on the fence with his list he repeated thenames and the number of cattle to which each Indian was entitled, andmen inside the corral opened the gate and drove them out.

  As a frightened cow or angry steer was loosed from the corral it was metwith shouts, wild and blood-curdling, from all the Indians, and itsowner sprang upon his pony and took after the poor beast, driving itinto the open beyond, and away from the house and corral.

  "Now begins the chase," said Ted. "We'll get out here where we will havea good view, but I don't think you will care to see much of it. It getsto be pretty--well, pretty raw after a while."

  "Why don't they kill their beef in a slaughterhouse and give them themeat, instead of turning the animals over to them alive?" asked Stella.

  "The Indians wouldn't stand for that," answered Ted. "This is the onlysport they have in a year's time. You see, they are not permitted toleave the reservations to go far away to hunt big game, and they take itout in hunting, or playing they are hunting, these miserable cows."

  "I don't see any fun in that," said Miss Croffut.

  "You haven't the imagination of an Indian. You see, they make believethey are hunting buffalo again, and the chase is quite as exciting tothem as if they were doing the real thing."

  By this time the prairie was covered with steers and cows, lumberingalong in front of the Indians, who were pursuing them with shrill cries,shooting at them with bows and arrows or with rifles, striving always towound them, but not to kill them too soon, for if they killed them rightaway they would miss the fun of the chase.

  This made the beef issue a carnival of brutality, and Ted soon saw thatthe girls were getting tired of it.

  In the center of the great circle in which there were several dozencattle running around aimlessly, pursued by a yelling, exultant,bloodthirsty band of Indians, were several wounded steers and cows,which had gone down and were unable to rise. Several groups of Indians,squatting on the rim of the circle, were shooting at them.

  This was dangerous business, and the white spectators moved back out ofrange.

  The shooting was very reckless at times, and the Indian agent had toprotest to the soldiers, who, under Lieutenant Barrows, had the issue incharge.

  Ted and the two girls were sitting on their ponies, watching the showfrom a position of safety, as they were out of line of any of theshooting parties.

  Without warning a ball sang through the air, clipped through the mane ofTed's pony, and pierced the sleeve of Ted's jacket, passing out betweenhim and Miss Croffut, who was by his side.

  As Ted looked up hastily he caught a gleam of blue across the circle asit dodged behind the group of yelling and shooting Indians.

  Ted glanced at Stella, and saw a look in her eyes which plainly said:

  "Did you see it, too?" And Ted nodded.

  Miss Croffut had screamed as the ball went past, and Ted's pony, burnedby it, reared.

  "Let's get out of this," said Ted quietly. "Those Indians are beginningto shoot wildly, and some one is going to get accidentally hit. I wonderthat the soldiers don't regulate it better."

  "They are afraid of getting the Indians angry," explained Miss Croffut."The war department allows them to do as they please at this function,to keep them quiet at other times."

  But most of the poor dumb brutes had succumbed to this slow method ofbutchering, and the squaws, with horrible cries, rushed into the field,every one to the steer which her lord and master had killed, and thehideous rites of skinning and cutting up the animals was begun by thewomen, who were even more bloodthirsty than the men.

  "Come, we don't want to see this," said Ted, and led the way from thefield.

  "It is time for dinner," said Miss Croffut. "Then we must get ready forthe trail. We will get a wagon from the storekeeper--a regular campwagon with beds and a tent. Papa will arrange it all, and he will detailan orderly to drive it for us, and care for our things."

  "That will be fine for you and aunt, but for me--the saddle and the campfire," said Stella.