CHAPTER III

  FOR THE BLACKFOOT CAMP

  As the boat slowly drew near the wharf, Hugh and Jack, from theupper deck, recognized first the old adobe fort and then, one afteranother, the different buildings of the town. The arrival of thesteamer was always a great event in Benton, and pretty much allthe inhabitants of the town were seen making their way toward thewater's edge. The throng was made up of whites and Indians, with anoccasional Chinaman: for already Chinamen had begun to come intothe country. At first the two watchers from the steamboat couldrecognize no faces, but, as the boat drew nearer and nearer, Hughsuddenly let his hand fall on Jack's shoulder and said, "There'sBaptiste, and I believe that's Joe standing near him."

  "Oh, where are they, Hugh? I can't see either of them:" and then amoment later, after Hugh had told him where the two stood, he sawthem; and springing up on the rail, and holding to a stanchion, hewaved his hat, and shouted out to Joe, who had already recognizedhim and made joyous gestures in response.

  A little later, the four were cordially shaking hands on the shore:and presently, when the crowd of passengers had left the boat, thetwo old men and the boys went on board again and, mounting to theupper deck, talked together. Jack's first question to Joe was as tothe whereabouts of the camp.

  "Down east of the Judith Mountains somewhere, I expect," said Joein reply. "They went down there to kill buffalo; there's lotsof buffalo over on the Judith, or between the Judith and theMusselshell. I guess they'll be there all summer, and before I leftthe camp I heard that they would make the medicine lodge somewhereout in that country."

  "What about the hostiles, Joe?" said Jack. "Have they seen anySioux lately?"

  "No," said Joe, "but I've heard that there are a few passing backand forth, between the lower country and Sitting Bull's camp, overacross the line."

  "Like enough," said Hugh, "like enough. We've got to look out forthose fellows; but they won't do nothing more than try to steal ourhorses."

  Hugh had been talking quietly with Baptiste La Jeunesse, who toldhim what had been happening in Benton during the winter. This wasnot much: there was talk that a railroad was going to be built intothe country, one that might even pass through Fort Benton itself,and this would make the town big and important, so people said--andFort Benton would once more become what it had been in the earlydays of the fur trade, a populous and thriving place.

  "And how have you been getting on yourself, Bat?" said Hugh.

  "Oh, I've done well. I always have everything that I want, sinceyou people came in here last summer and gave me the gold. Everymonth I go to the bank, and they give me the pay for the moneythat you lent them for me, and so I live well. It doesn't make anydifference to me whether I've work to do or not, yet always it ispleasant to be doing something, and so I keep on working. Also,there are some people in the town who are poor, just as I used tobe; and now that I have money I can help them to live, just as yourboy has helped me."

  "Well, Bat, it makes me feel good that you are doing well, and Ithink that you will continue to do well from this on."

  "And what are you going to do this season, Hugh?" said Baptiste."Where are you going, and what are you going to do--hunting ortrapping, or what?"

  "Well, Bat," said Hugh, "I am traveling 'round again with this boyof mine. His uncle and his father and mother want him to spend thesummers out here, and get strong and hearty, and they've told me totravel with him, and teach him about the way of living out here;the same lesson that you and I learned when we were young; only hewill learn it in a better and easier way than we did. He's a goodboy: I like him better all the time. I should feel bad if anythinghappened to him."

  "Yes, Hugh, I think he's a good boy," said Baptiste. "Both of thoseboys are good. I like the Indian well. He came in here many daysago, and came to me; and since he got here, he and I have livedtogether. I like him."

  Hugh now turned to the two boys, who were busily talking, andsaid; "Now, boys, if we're going to get off to-night we've got tomake a start right soon. I expect Joe has got all our stuff ready,except the grub, and if you and he will hurry up and get the horsestogether and get them saddled, I'll go and buy the grub, and putit in the wagon, and come down here and get our guns and beds, andwe'll pack up and move out of town four or five miles and camp."

  Both the boys jumped to their feet, and Jack said; "Hurray! that'swhat I want to do; I want to get out on the prairie once more, andI don't want to see a town again until I have to."

  Jack and Joe started at once, and ran races with each other up thestreet, to see which should get first to the stable. Joe beat thewhite boy, who found that his winter's confinement, and his lackof exercise in the big city had made him short of wind; so that atlast he got out of breath, and stopped running. When they reachedthe stable, Joe took his rope and went out into the corral, andcaught a handsome little buckskin pony, and, saddling it, rodeout to get the animals which were pasturing on the bluffs abovethe town. He was gone some little time, and then, Jack, who waswatching for him, saw the familiar sight of loose horses runningalong the bluff, and then turning and rushing down its steep sides,followed by a cloud of dust; and then Joe, with whoops and yells,and quick turnings and twistings of his horse, drove them up tothe bars, through which they crowded, and then stood quiet in thecorral.

  Jack thought that he would try his old scheme of calling Pawnee,and whistled sharply. The good horse threw up his head, and lookedabout, and then seeming to recognize Jack, walked over to him, andarched his neck over his shoulder in the old-fashioned way. Jackwas very much touched, and put his arms around the horse's head,and leaned his head against his neck, thrilled with affection forthe animal that he had ridden so many miles. Presently they gotout the ropes, and tied up the horses, and one by one they weresaddled. They were all fat and in good condition, and some of themobjected quite strongly to being saddled. The dun bucked when theflank cinch tightened on him, just as he had bucked the first timeJack ever saw him packed, and so did the star-faced bay. The othersgrunted and squealed and kicked a little, but on the whole took thesaddling very well.

  Not long after they had finished saddling up they heard a cheerycall from the front of the stable, and, rushing out, Jack saw thewagon, piled up with food and beds, and Hugh and Baptiste, sittingin it. It took some little time to make up the packs, but by lateafternoon this was done, the horses packed, and after shakinghands with Baptiste, the little train, with Hugh in the lead, Jackdriving three pack horses, and Joe bringing up the rear, drivingtwo more, filed out of the town and climbed the hills toward theupper prairie.

  That afternoon they traveled until the sun went down, and thencoming on a little coulee, through which water trickled, theycamped. They were careful to picket all their horses; and afterthis was done, while Joe and Jack brought armfuls of willow brushfrom up and down the creek, Hugh cooked supper.

  The next day they kept on. Now they were well away from thesettlements, and game began to be seen. Only antelope, it is true,but of them there were plenty. Jack had a fair shot at a buck, atabout a hundred and twenty-five yards, but failed to kill him--tohis great mortification.

  "Ha!" said Hugh, "you've got to learn how to shoot again; you shottoo high, and missed him slick and clean. I remember the first shotyou fired last year, when you first came out; you shot high then,just as you did now. When we get to camp to-night, you and Joe hadbetter go out and shoot three or four times at a mark. You have gotto learn your gun over again, and Joe of course has got to learnhis for the first time." Jack had brought out from New York a gunfor Joe, carefully selected from the stock of one of the largestrifle manufacturers in the world, and as yet Joe had not fired ashot out of it; but he seemed never to tire of looking at it, andputting it up to his shoulder, and sighting at various objects.That night they camped on a great swiftly rushing stream, near somehigh hills, or low mountains; and while he was cooking supper Hughsent them off to try their guns. With the axe they shaved off theouter bark from a thick cottonwood tree, and making a black mark
onthe brown surface, each fired five shots at it. Jack's first twoshots were high, but the next three were clustered within the sizeof a silver dollar, all about the mark. Joe did not shoot quite sosteadily, two of his shots being above, and two below, and one alittle off to one side. When they returned to camp and Hugh askedthem about their shooting, they told him, and he advised them tofire a few more shots after supper, and, if necessary, a few in themorning.

  "There's nothing, I hate worse than to hear a gun fired aboutcamp," he said, "but guns are no use to people unless theyunderstand them, and you boys must get used to your guns. It won'ttake you more than a very few shots to do this, and you certainlymust do it."

  The next morning they started on again. No signs had yet been seenof the Indians, but this day they saw a few buffalo, old bulls,mostly off to the north of them. In the afternoon they passed bythe Moccasin Mountains, and camped on a little stream flowing intothe Judith River. After they had unpacked their animals and madecamp, Hugh said to Jack, "Son, have you ever been here before? Doyou see anything that you recognize?"

  "Why, no Hugh," said Jack, "I don't think I do;" and standing uphe took a long look about him, up and down the valley, and at thehills on either side. Suddenly his face brightened, and he said,"Why yes I do, too. I know where we are. This is just where wecame through last year, the second day after I got caught in thequicksands in the Musselshell."

  "That's so," said Hugh, "this is just where we came. I wondered ifyou'd recognize it. You ought to do so, and I'm glad you do.

  "Right over a few miles east of us is what we used to call oldCamp Lewis. There used to be a trading store there, and a campof soldiers, and a few men got killed there, mostly soldiers. Iremember coming through here not many years ago, the afternoonafter some soldiers got killed on the bank of the creek, rightclose to the camp. There was a camp of Crows there then--aboutthree hundred lodges. The Sioux came down, and ran off somegovernment horses, and killed three recruits that were fishing herein the creek, and the Crows took after 'em, and had quite a fight,and Long Horse, the Crow chief got killed. They got seven of theSioux, I think. They had quite a time here in the camp then. Iremember Yellowstone Kelly was here, and three or four other men; Ithink the Sioux set them all afoot."

  The next morning while Hugh was getting breakfast he said to Jack:"Son, why don't you kill some meat? You are going through a countrywhere game is fairly plenty; anyway, antelope are, and there's afew buffalo; and besides that, here are some mountains right closeto you, where there's surely lots of sheep. You boys had bettermake up your minds to do something to-day; if you don't I'll haveto start out and hunt, to kill meat for the camp."

  "Well, Hugh," said Jack, "I certainly would rather hunt thandrive pack horses; and if you want me to I'll go off to-day andfollow along a little closer to the hills, and see if I can't killsomething."

  "Do so," said Hugh, "and then if you kill anything you can easilyovertake us. We will be traveling slow, and your horse is good andfat and can catch us wherever we are. All the same, keep your eyeopen for Indians, and don't let any strangers come up too close toyou. I'd rather have you two boys go off together, but I've got tokeep Joe with me, to drive these pack horses. You'd better throwthe saddle on your horse and start right off, and maybe you'llcatch us before we've gone very far."

  No sooner said than done. Jack saddled up, and having asked Hughthe direction in which the party would move, rode away to the left,toward the low foot-hills of the mountains. He had gone only a mileor two when, passing over the shoulder of the foot-hills, he foundhimself coming down into a narrow valley, in which pretty littlemeadows were interspersed with clumps of cottonwoods and willows.Three or four antelope were feeding in the valley not far off, butthere was no cover under which they could be approached, so herode straight along. As he drew near, the antelope ceased feedingand raised their heads, and then, before he was within easy rifleshot, trotted off to the other side of the valley, and stood onthe hillside watching him. After looking back for a few moments,they started, in single file, and slowly walked up the hill. Theywere by no means frightened, and it seemed likely that by taking alittle time, after they had passed on out of sight, he might get ashot at them; but the brush above him on the stream seemed likelyto hold a deer, and he turned his horse that way and rode quietlyforward up the stream, among the groups of bushes. He had notgone very far when from a clump of willows at his right a big doesprang into view, and moved slowly off by those high, long boundswhich make the white-tail, in motion, one of the most graceful ofanimals. Jack's impulse was to jump off his horse and shoot ather, but he saw that, if he did this, he would be so low down thatshe could hardly be seen over the tops of the willows. He checkedPawnee, cocked his gun, and rising a little in his stirrups, andgripping the horse with his thighs, aimed carefully at the back ofthe doe's head, just as she was rising in one of her leaps, andpulled the trigger.

  Almost at the report, her long tail fell flat to her body, andshe began to run much faster. He knew he had hit her, and beforeshe had gone fifty yards, and while she was crossing an open bitof meadow, she fell. Jack rode up to her, and on turning her overfound that he had made a good shot. A ball had entered her back,just to the right of the spine, and had pierced both lungs andheart.

  Turning her over, to get her ready to put on the horse, he wasglad to see that she was a barren doe, one that had not produceda fawn that spring, and so would be fat and good eating. She waspretty big, however, and Jack was a little uncertain just how hewas going to get her on his horse. Of course by cutting her up itcould easily have been done, for then the quarters would not betoo heavy for him to handle. At first he thought that he wouldtake in the whole animal, but considering the time that thismight take, and the fact that he had to ride a long way beforeovertaking his companions, he determined to do things in the easierway. He skinned the deer, therefore, cut off the shoulders andhams, and tied them on his horse, and then taking out sirloins andtenderloins, and some of the fat, wrapped this up in the skin, andput that on behind the saddle. Now he had a fairly compact load,which could be easily carried, and would not be a great additionalweight for his horse; while on the ground were left all the bonesof the deer, except those of the legs. This method of butchering hehad learned from the Indians the summer before.

  All this had taken some little time, and when Jack looked at thesun he saw that the morning was half gone. Hugh had told him thatthey would follow the trail around the point of the mountains, andwould then strike the Carroll Road, and bend back toward the riveragain. This meant that if he could cross the point of the mountainshe would save several miles travel, and this he determined to do.

  Before starting, he tightened up his cinches carefully, for he knewthat the pieces of meat tied on his saddle would give it more orless side motion, and he did not want it to chafe Pawnee's back.Then he climbed into the saddle and started. By this time the sunwas pouring down hot upon him, and there was no breeze. From thehigh ridges that he crossed from time to time he had a wide viewof the prairie, and of the distant mountains, the Little Beltsand Snowies, which rose from the plain a long way to the south.Here and there on the prairie were black dots, which he knew werebuffalo, and other white ones, much nearer, which were antelope.Occasionally, as he rode along, a great sage grouse would rise fromthe ground near his horse's feet, or a jack-rabbit would start up,and after running fifteen or twenty yards, would stop, sit up,raise its enormous ears, look at him for a moment, and then settleback on all fours, and flatten itself on the ground, so that if hetook his eye off it for a moment he could not find it again. Itseemed to him then, as it had so often seemed before, a wonderfulthing to see how absolutely this wild creature, like so manyothers, could disappear from sight even while one was looking at it.

  As he rode over a high ridge, he saw on the hillside before him,two white-rumped animals, that for a moment he thought wereantelope; but a second glance showed him that they were not, and,to his very great astonishment, he recognized them as mountainsheep--
a ewe and her young one--which had been feeding on theprairie, just where he would have expected an antelope to be. Hethrew himself off his horse and, cocking his gun, jerked it tohis shoulder and then paused, and lowering it again, stepped backand put his foot in the stirrup. As he mounted, the ewe, whichhad been looking at him, started to run, passing hardly more thanfifty yards in front of him, closely followed by the lamb. A littlefurther on, she stopped again and gazed, and Jack sat there andreturned her look. The sight of the sheep had been almost too muchfor him, and he had come near shooting her,--but before he pressedthe trigger he realized that if he shot her he should have to shootthe lamb, and he could not conveniently carry either, and the oldewe would be thin in flesh and hardly worth taking with him. Thetemptation had been strong, but as he sat there and looked at thegraceful animal, which stood and stamped, while the lamb, closebeside her, imitated her motions, he realized that it was a goodthing to let them go.

  It seemed to him a mysterious thing, though, that these sheepshould be down here on the prairie, and a long way from the rockypeaks, where he supposed they always lived. He made up his mindthat he would ask Hugh about this when he got into camp and get himto explain it.

  At last he had crossed the point of the mountains and began todescend. Stretching out toward the northeast he could see a dimthin line, which, although it was interrupted at times--andsometimes for long distances--he thought must be the Carroll Road.Then off a long way to the east was a line of dark--the timberalong a stream's course--which he supposed was where they wouldcamp to-night.

  He had almost reached the level prairie, when suddenly he becameaware of two horsemen galloping toward him from behind. He watchedthem as they drew nearer, and at last could make out that they wereIndians; and by this is meant that he saw that they had no hats on.More than that, he could see, he thought, that one of them had redleggings.