CHAPTER I. Getting Ready For the Hunt.

“So you are nearly out of fresh meat, are you? Do your men get that way often?”

“Yes, sir. These Pawnee scouts can’t eat like white men. When they have any fresh meat on hand they eat all they can, and when it is gone they look to us for more.”

“Well, I suppose I shall have to send an officer out after some. I think I will try Lieutenant Parker. He has been a pretty good young officer since he has been out here, and perhaps it will do him some good to get a little exercise. Orderly, send Parker here.”

This conversation took place between Col. Dodge, the commander of a small fort situated Page 2 on the outskirts of the Standing Rock Agency, and his commissary, who had come in to report the condition of the garrison in regard to supplies. There was plenty of everything except fresh meat, and their Pawnee scouts were already grumbling over their diminished supply. Their commander must send out and get some more. Game of all kinds was abundant a short distance back in the mountains, but it was a little dangerous to send a body of troops out there. Something out of the usual order of things had happened within a few miles of Fort Scott, and there was every indication that Sitting Bull, who had settled down at Standing Rock Agency since he came from Canada, was trying to set his braves against the whites and drive them from the country. The thing which started this trouble was the Ghost Dance—something more of which we shall hear further on.

The orderly disappeared, and presently a quick step sounded in the hall, the door opened, and Lieutenant Parker entered.

It was no wonder that this young officer had proved himself a good soldier, for he came Page 3 from West Point, and it was plain that he could not be otherwise. To begin with, he was handsome above most men of his rank, with a well-knit figure, and eyes that looked straight into your own when he was speaking to you. He stood among the first five in his class, and upon graduation received his appointment to the —th Cavalry at Fort Scott. Of course he found army life dull, compared with the life he had led at the Point, but that made no difference to him. If he lived he would in process of time become a major-general, and that was what he was working for. He first saluted the colonel, then removed his cap and waited for him to speak.

“Well, Parker, you find this army life slow, don’t you?” said he.

“Sometimes, sir,” said the lieutenant with a smile. “One does not get much chance to stir around.”

“You know the reason for it, I suppose?”

“Yes, sir. Sitting Bull is going to make trouble.”

“He has not made any trouble yet, and I Page 4 propose to send you out in the presence of all his warriors.”

“Very good, sir,” replied Parker.

Most young officers would have opened their eyes when they heard this, but it did not seem to affect Lieutenant Parker one way or the other. He knew his commander had some good reason for it, and with that he was satisfied.

“Yes,” continued the colonel, “I propose to give you command of a dozen men, including a sergeant, two corporals, two wagons and a guide, and send you into the mountains after some fresh meat. We got some only a little while ago, but the Pawnee scouts have eaten it all up.”

Lieutenant Parker grew interested at once. He was a pretty fair shot for a boy of his age, and had brought his Winchester from the States, together with a fine horse that his father had given him; but he put his rifle upon some pegs in his room, and there it had remained ever since he had been at the fort. He looked at it once in a while and said to his room-mate:

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“That Winchester can rust itself out before I will have a chance to use it. I was in hopes I should have a chance to try it on a buffalo before this time.”

“It seems to me that you have not read the papers very closely,” said Lieutenant Randolph, “or you would have found out that the buffalo have all but disappeared. There is only one small herd left, and they are in Yellowstone Park, where they are protected by law.”

“But there are antelope on the plains,” said Parker.

“Yes, and maybe you will have a chance at them by the time old Sitting Bull gets over his antics. It won’t do for a small company of men to go out on the plains now. The Sioux are too active.”

“Well, the colonel knows best,” said Parker with a sigh. “I have asked him twice to let me go out but he has always refused me, and now I shall not ask him again.”

But now the colonel seemed to have thought better of it, and was going to send him out to try his skill on some of the big game that Page 6 was always to be found in the foothills. He was delighted to hear it, and his delight showed itself in his face.

“Do you think you can get some meat for us?” asked the colonel with a smile. “You appear to think that you are going to have an easy time of it.”

“No, sir; I suppose we shall have a hard time in getting what we want; but if you can give me a guide who will show me where the game is, I believe I will have some for you when I come back.”

“How will Carl, the Trailer, do you?”

“I don’t know, sir. I have often seen him about the fort, but have never spoken to him.”

“We will put two boys at the head of the expedition, and see how they will come out with the captain who went out two weeks ago,” said the colonel, turning to his commissary. “Sit down, Parker. Orderly, tell Carl, the Trailer, that I want to see him.”

The orderly opened the door and went out, and Lieutenant Parker took the chair toward which the colonel waved his hand. While they were waiting for the guide the officer Page 7 proceeded to give his subordinate some instructions in regard to the way he was to conduct himself in case the Sioux molested him. Of course he could not expect, with the few men that the colonel was going to give him, to stand against the whole body of the Sioux, but he could run, holding a tight rein in the meantime, until he came to a clear spot free from gullies and underbrush, and there he could dismount his command and make the best fight possible. If he wasn’t back at the fort in a week a company would be sent out to look for him; but suppose he was found dead and scalped? Lieutenant Parker thought of this, but his ardor did not abate in the least. He had come out on the plains to take just such risks as this, and he supposed that it was the orders every young officer received when he was about to encounter the Indians for the first time. But he did not believe that the Sioux were going to get after him. They had enough to do with the Ghost Dance to prevent them paying attention to anything else.

“But I hope they will keep clear of you Page 8 until you come back,” said the colonel. “The first thing you do, go to work and fill up one of those wagons with game and send it to the fort with six men, commanded by the corporal. He knows the way and won’t get lost. After that, you stay with the other six men until you fill up the other wagon, and then come home yourself.”

Just then another step was heard in the hall, and the door opened to admit Carl, the Trailer. Parker told himself that he was glad that Carl was going with him as guide, for he would have opportunity to talk to him, and perhaps he might find out where he got that curious name.

Carl was young in years—he did not look to be a day older than Lieutenant Parker—and the years of toil and hardship he had seen on the plains, if indeed he had seen any of them, did not mar his face as they had that of older scouts. He was as straight as an arrow, bore a frank and honest face, and his blue eyes, as he turned them from one to another of the occupants of the room, did not express the least surprise that he had been Page 9 called upon to go on a dangerous mission. He supposed that the colonel wished to send him to Standing Rock Agency with dispatches, and he was ready to take them. It was something that he had frequently been called upon to do, and he had always returned in safety. He did not look like a plainsman, for he was dressed in a suit of moleskin, as fine a pair of boots as money could buy, and a sombrero, which he removed as he entered the room.

“Here I am, colonel,” said he cheerily, “and all ready to go on to Fort Yates, if necessary. What do you want of me?”

“Are you acquainted with Lieutenant Parker?” asked the colonel in reply.

“I have seen him, but I don’t know him,” answered the guide.

“Well, here he is. Lieutenant, this is Carl, the Trailer, the name by which you will probably know him, but his name is Preston.”

The lieutenant got up from his chair and extended his hand to the guide, but was not very well pleased with the reception he met. Carl took his hand, gave it a little squeeze and dropped it, and then turned his Page 10 face toward the colonel and waited for him to go on and explain what he wanted done. There were two things about it, Lieutenant Parker told himself: Carl was not favorably impressed with his appearance; and, furthermore, he could not have been raised in that country all his life, for he used as fine language as he did himself.

“Carl, I want you to guide twelve men to the foothills and get some fresh meat for us,” continued the colonel.

At this the guide turned again and gave the lieutenant a good looking over. It seemed to be the first time that he had taken a fair view of him. He surveyed him all over, from his boots to his head, gazed straight into his eyes for a moment, and then turned his attention to the colonel again.

“Do you think the lieutenant will do?” asked the officer.

“Oh, yes; provided a grizzly don’t get after him and tear him up,” replied the guide with indifference.

“But you must not let a grizzly do that. If you start now you can easily reach Lost Page 11 River, can’t you? Very well. You may get ready, and the commissary will find the wagons and mules for you and twelve hunters. Be sure you pick out the best shots in the command.”

The commissary and the guide went out, and Parker was alone with the colonel. The officer looked into the lieutenant’s face as he took his chair again, and could not repress a smile at the expression of disappointment he saw there.

“Well, Parker, what do you think of Carl, the Trailer?” he asked.

“I think more of him than he does of me, sir,” replied the lieutenant. “He doesn’t hold me in very high estimation as a hunter.”

“Neither do I,” said the colonel.

Parker did not know what reply to make to this. He looked at the colonel, and then his gaze wandered down to the floor.

“You must do something to prove yourself a good shot and a man who can bag game every time he sees it,” continued the officer. “Do your part of the work faithfully, and I warrant he will come back with a different opinion of you.”

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“But, colonel, that fellow was never born and raised in this country.”

“What makes you say that? On account of his language? He was born in this country, about forty miles from here. His father was a Harvard graduate.”

“Oh, that accounts for it, sir. Has this Carl, the Trailer, ever been to school?”

“Never a day in his life. He despised school and everything connected with it, and longed for horses, guns and excitement. I guess he has seen plenty of it. His father died about two years ago, and he left his ranch in charge of a foreman and has been on duty at this post ever since.”

“He does not dress at all like a plainsman, sir.”

“Oh, Carl is rich. I don’t suppose he knows how many cattle there are, running loose on the plains, that bear his brand. But if all reports are true he is not going to be allowed to keep his money for a great while. There are some fellows about here who wouldn’t be any too sorry to see him deliver up his life, for then the property would come Page 13 into their possession. But he bears a charmed existence in spite of all they can do. I guess I have told you everything I could think of, and you may as well get ready and go on. Remember, I want you to fill up one of the wagons at once and send it to me in command of a corporal. I shall look for you to come back in safety at the end of a week, if you don’t get all the game you want before that time, and I shall expect to hear a good account of you.”

The colonel arose to his feet, and the lieutenant, taking this as a hint that he wanted the interview brought to a close, shook hands with him and hurried out.