CHAPTER XL
The Crow Band
Even far Montana heard the news, and, winding through the hills, therecame one day a band of Crows from their reservation on the Big Horn.They came with only their light travelling tepees; and the intensedislike in which they are held by the Sioux and Cheyennes was shown inthe fact that they camped far away in a group by themselves.
The Crows are noted for their beautiful lodges and their inveteratehabit of horse stealing. They also have this unique fact on theirrecord--that they have never been at war with the whites. They willsteal a white man's horses fast enough, but they have never tried totake a white scalp. Their party consisted chiefly of men and a fewsurplus horses. But for the lodges and a few women, it might have passedfor a war party.
The Crows are among the numerous claimants of the title "best horsemenin the world." If reckless riding in dangerous places without beingthrown is good ground for the claim, then is the claim good; and itbecomes yet stronger in view of the fact that most of their riding isbarebacked. When they came to the Fort that day it was as though theywere riding for their lives. They were but a score and were admittedwithout question. They paid their respects to Colonel Waller and then,after smoking, announced that they had money and goods to bet on therace. They were disappointed to find how much too late they were;everything was already up. So they rode away.
They did not go near the Sioux and Cheyenne camp; not that there wasmuch danger of their suffering bodily harm, but they had beenunmistakably informed that they were not welcome, though the action wentno further than ignoring them. Next morning, when Blazing Star and RedRover were doing their turn, there were no keener onlookers than theCrows. By look and grunted word they showed their appreciation of thenoble brutes.
The Chief came to the Fort to find out if the Colonel would sell BlazingStar after the race.
"We give twenty horses," and he held up both hands twice.
"No."
"Three hands ponies," and they held up both hands spread three times.
"No, he is not for sale."
Late that day Red Cloud and Howling Bull came to Colonel Waller and,after preliminaries, conveyed the information and warning: "All Crowsheap big thief. You watch him; he steal horse every time, heap no good."
The third of July came, and the plain looked like a city of tents. Manytraders were there to open temporary stores; and it is doubtful if anysingle race in the Western world has attracted more people or createdintenser interest. The Cheyennes gave a great dance in honour of theSun. They invited all the Sioux to come, and the whites invitedthemselves. Belle and Jim were there and saw much to please and much todisgust them. The general impression was one of barbaric splendour,weird chanting, noisy tom-toms, and hypnotic pulsation. It was mostlyrepellent, but sometimes the rhythm stirred them, and provoked aresponse which showed that the wild musicians were playing on instinctsand impulses that are as wide as humanity.
Most horsemen like to keep their training ground in some sort private;but the garrison had given up all attempts at that, so far as BlazingStar and Red Rover were concerned. Every one knew, every one wasinterested, and each day there was an eager crowd waiting to feast theireyes on the two splendid racers. And they were well worth it. Even Jimhad to acknowledge that Blazing Star was looking better now than everbefore.
"Look at that neck, Belle, see how it arches, see the clean limbs; isn'the trained to perfection? If I only--if----" then he stopped himself.
As he fondly watched the horse with glowing eyes, he said: "Of course,we don't know anything at all about where or how he was bred, but Ishould say that that is a blood Kentucky, nearly pure--Kentucky golddust."
Among the spectators were the two Indian Chiefs in their warpaint--RedCloud of the Sioux, and Howling Bull of the Cheyennes. They spoke littleto each other, for neither knew the other's tongue; but they made littlegestures of the sign language, and any keen observer knowing it couldcatch the ideo-signs: "Good, good; by and by; we see good race; brave,swift," and so on. Later: "Yes, after one sleep. Rain heap, yes."
Jim watched them closely. "See that, Belle? he says: 'To-morrow it rainheap,' I wonder how he knows. They call the Fourth of July the Big WetSunday, because it usually rains then. I wonder how it will affect therace."
"Jim, you said they had shod the buckskin cayuse in expectation of a wettrack."
"Yes; that's a mystery; how can they tell? The air is full of rumours,anyway. Chamreau says that Red Cloud has been seeking everywhere forfast horses. He had a man go as far as Omaha and another to Denver. Somesay he did pick up a racer, a half-blooded Kentucky--some that he hadgot a wonderful pinto cayuse from Cheyenne; this latter is the morepersistent rumour, though Chamreau says he can't find any one who hasactually seen one or the other. Anyhow, no one knows what their entrywill be. We have a pretty good idea of ours"; and Hartigan smiledproudly.
The two chiefs, with their followers, conversed earnestly, and with muchgesture. They looked and pointed at the Crow camp and the rain sign camein many times, and emphatically. The old feud between the Sioux and theCrows had broken out afresh in a trader's store. Two young men from theopposing camps had quarrelled. They had drawn their knives, and each hadbeen wounded. These things were common talk, and Belle and Jim watchedthe two chiefs ride toward the Crow camp with an eager curiosity to knowmore about it. When the Red men were a mile away and within half a mileof the Crow village, they followed at a good pace and reached the tepeesin the secluded corner in time to see the two visiting chiefs making anaddress mainly by signs, as they sat on their horses. Chamreau wasthere, and in answer to Jim's question translated Red Cloud's address tothe Crows thus:
"You make bad medicine so we lose race, we kill you." Then, indicatingHowling Bull, "He say, 'you make bad medicine, bring rain, I kill you.'"
Having delivered their ultimatum, the visiting chiefs turned haughtilyand rode to their own camp.
"I don't know just what they really did say," said Hartigan, "but if I'many judge of looks, there'll be trouble here if those Crows don't getout."
* * * * *
It was four o'clock in the morning of the Fourth of July when thethunderbolt struck Fort Ryan. It was not very loud; it damaged nobuilding; but it struck the very souls of men. A thousand thunder claps,a year's tornadoes in an hour, could not have been more staggering; andyet it was only four words of one poor, wheezing Irish hostler at theColonel's window:
"Colonel! Colonel! For the love of God--come--come--come atonce--_Blazing Star is gone!_"
"_What?_" and the Colonel sprang up.
The reveille had sounded, the men were just rising; but one group therewas already about the stable talking with an air of intense excitement.The Colonel went without waiting to dress--the officer of the day withhim. In terrible silence they hurried to the stable; there was Rover inhis box, whinnying softly for his morning oats; but the next--the box ofBlazing Star--was empty; and the far end, the outer wall, showed a greatnew doorway cut. Beyond, out in the growing light, troopers rode toevery near-by lookout; but never a sign of horse did they see, or,indeed, expect to see. The case was very clear; the horse was stolen,gone clean away--their hope for the race was gone.
These were terrible moments for the hapless grooms and guards. Humannature, in dire defeat, always demands a victim; and the grooms wereglad to be locked up in the guard house, where at least they were out ofthe storm of the Colonel's wrath. As the light grew brighter a carefulstudy laid bare the plan of robbery. The stables formed, in part, theouter wall of the quadrangle. They were roofed with pine boards, coveredwith tar-paper on cedar corner posts; the walls, however, were of sodspiled squarely on each other in a well-known Western style, making agood warm stable. It was a simple matter to take down quickly andsilently this outer wall from the outside, beginning at the top, and somake another exit. This had been done in the dead of night. And thetrack of the racer told the tale like a printed page.
A general alarm had gone fort
h; all the Fort was astir; and the armyscouts were by the case forced into unusual prominence. It was Al Renniespoke first:
"Colonel, it's a-going to rain, sure; it's liable to rain heavy. Isuggest we take that trail right away and follow before it's all washedout."
"The quicker the better," said the Colonel.
Riding ahead on the trail like a hound went the old trapper-hunter-scoutwith a band of troopers following. They had not gone a quarter of a milebefore the rain began to spit. But the line of the trail was clear andit was easy for the practised eye to follow. It headed east for half amile, then, on a hard open stretch of gravel, it turned and went directfor the Crow camp. Rennie could follow at a gallop; they rounded thebutte, cleared the cottonwoods, crossed the little willow-edged stream,and reached the Crow camp to find it absolutely deserted!
The rain was now falling faster; in a few minutes it set in--a trueDakota flood. The trail of Blazing Star--clear till then--was now whollywiped out. There was nothing but the unmarked prairie around them; andthe guide, with the troopers, soaked to the skin, rode back with theforlorn tidings.