CHAPTER IV. The Solitary Horseman.

“This man, although he was an officer sent out from Washington to look into the matter, did many things to help this trouble along, but he did not know it at the time,” continued Carl, after drawing a few vigorous pulls at his pipe to make sure that the tobacco was well started. “When he came back he went among the Arapahoes and Cheyennes, because he had some friends among them, and he wanted to set their minds at rest. He told them what Wovoka, the Cutter, had said to him, claiming that he was not the Messiah but one who had seen him, and gave them some of the pi?on nuts to eat. You haven’t seen any of those pi?on nuts around here, have you?”

“No, I haven’t,” said Parker.

“Well, out in the country where the Piute Indians live they are used every day for food; Page 41 and yet those Arapahoes and Cheyennes received them as if they came from the hands of the Messiah himself. Those Indians were anxious to touch this man by the hand and lay hold of his clothes, believing that if they but touched the Cutter some good would come to them. When the man went East to make his report to Washington, the Arapahoes and Cheyennes sent some prominent men to investigate for themselves. They were gone all winter, and brought back some queer stories that this man had not told them, because he did not know anything about them. Finally the Sioux got hold of it, and became excited at once. They seemed to think it was what they had so long been waiting for—a summons to go to war and wipe the whites off the face of the earth. They, too, sent out some men, and they brought back some other strange stories. One thing the Cutter told them was, that if they got weary with their journey—Wovoka lives all of a thousand miles from here—they had but to call upon the Great Spirit, and he would set them miles ahead on their route. Another thing was, that if they killed a buffalo Page 42 on their journey they were to take everything except the tail and hoofs, and that after they got out of sight the buffalo would come to life again.”

Lieutenant Parker laughed loudly when he heard it.

“The idea,” he exclaimed. “To think that twenty thousand people could be fooled in that way! After a buffalo is dead he is dead, and nothing can bring him to life again.”

“Well, I don’t know that the Indian is so much to blame for that,” said Carl, looking down at the horn of his saddle. “You know how susceptible the savage is to superstition. All his life he has been planning and thinking about getting rid of the whites. We are his evil genius; and if we could be driven out of the country everything would go along as smoothly as it did before. One of their agents, in making out his report to Washington, has twelve different counts against our people.”

“What have we done to the Sioux?” demanded Parker, opening his eyes in surprise.

“Take, for instance, a supply of goods which ought to have been here by August but Page 43 did not get here until midwinter,” said Carl in reply. “I guess that was enough to set a more patient people than the Sioux on the warpath. A good many of them starved to death in spite of all the army could do to prevent it. I tell you, you would find it mighty hard to be loyal to a Government that could deliberately go back on you in that way.”

“Why, Carl, I did not know you were such an Indian lover,” said Lieutenant Parker.

“I am an Indian lover in this way: I say they have been abused, and shamefully, too. When the Black Hills were given up to them, they were assured that they should belong to them and their heirs forever. Everything went on smoothly until gold was discovered there, and from that time the trouble began. Custer was sent through that country, not with any instructions to turn the settlers out, but just to examine the spot; and the consequence was that in less than a year the Black Hills were overrun with prospectors.”

“Well, the Indians were in our way,” said Lieutenant Parker. “If they had behaved themselves——”

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“Yes, and seen their buffaloes all killed before their eyes. I tell you, lieutenant, you don’t know what a buffalo is to an Indian. It furnishes him with everything he needs, including skins for his tepee, robes to keep him warm in midwinter and sinews for sewing his clothes together. A white man kills them just to make a record. Sometimes he takes their tails home to hang up in his study and sometimes he don’t. There are but few buffaloes left, and they are in Yellowstone Park. I hope the Government will take a hand in protecting them.”

Lieutenant Parker could not say a word against this, for he knew it was all true. He knew how he would feel if some people stronger than his own should follow him year after year, take his land away from him, and destroy the only means he had of making a living. He had never looked at it in this way before. He supposed that the redskins were born with a natural enmity against the whites, and that nothing could turn them from a desire to take vengeance on them. He did not know that he blamed the Indian so much, after all.

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“When the Sioux Indians who had been sent away to inquire into the matter came back,” continued Carl, “they brought with them the news that they had seen the Messiah himself, that they had talked with him, and that when the proper time came he was going to help the Indians, and not the whites.”

“That shows that they meant to get up a war,” said Parker, forgetting, so deeply was he interested in the story, that he had promised not to interrupt any more.

“It certainly looks that way. The Sioux said he would be here by the time the grass was green in the spring; but, in order to speed his coming, they must engage in a dance which was to last five days.”

“That accounts for the exhaustion that some of the dancers experience. They go on until they are completely played out and then swoon from the effects of it.”

“That is my idea exactly,” said the guide. “A great many people who have witnessed the dance lay it to hypnotism. Now, what does that mean?”

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“I don’t know that I can tell you,” said Parker, after thinking a moment. “It is a certain form of sleep, brought on by artificial means, in which there is a suspension of certain bodily powers and unusual activity of others. That is as near as I can get at it. And when they come back to earth again—I don’t know whether they lie or not—they tell big stories of what they have seen in the spirit land.”

“And they are going to keep it up until we go to war with them,” said Carl earnestly. “You see they have got their homes to fight for, and when the time comes for the Indians to take possession of this country, all the whites and tribes who do not believe as they do will be overwhelmed by a flood; but the believers, those who did the dancing, will escape by fleeing to the tops of the mountains.”

“And Sitting Bull is to blame for that?”

“Yes—and Red Cloud. They are as strongly in favor of the dance as anyone they have got under them, and they are keeping it up in defiance of all the army officers can say and do against it. They are very sly; they talk only in their own language, although Page 47 some say that Sitting Bull can sign his name in English; but I don’t believe it. Nobody can get at anything an Indian does, and when this outbreak comes, it will come like an avalanche.”

“All you have said is news to me,” said Lieutenant Parker thoughtfully. “I believe that the Ghost Dance is not a myth; but, as you say, it will lead to something else.”

The lieutenant grew uneasy after that, and wished his companion would offer some advice about watching over the men in his little train; but he did not act as if there was an Indian within a thousand miles of him. Carl knew all about the plains and those who inhabited them, and when he began to be uneasy it would be time enough for him to do something; but he thought it would be worth while to ask some counsel on the subject.

“You said that this outbreak would come before we are aware of it,” said he. “How do you know that it will not come on us who are out hunting?”

“There is little danger of that, unless some Indian saw us when we left the fort or will Page 48 run against some of us while we are away from the camp. This country all belongs to them, and it would be right and proper that we should be wiped out.”

Of course Lieutenant Parker did not feel any easier for asking his guide to express an opinion on the situation. He did not show it in his face, but he felt the cold chills run all over him.

“I don’t know that he talked that way in order to frighten me,” thought Parker, “but I hope that we shall not see any Indians while we are gone. I would not know how to act.”

The hunters did not stop when they reached Lost River, but drove past a camp which those who had gone before them had made during their hunt in the foothills. The sergeant did not halt at that camp, for he wanted a “fresh spot” in which to pass the night. Half a mile farther on he found a place that suited him, and there he stopped his men and rode back to Lieutenant Parker, who had been riding behind the wagons all the way.

“Will this place suit you, sir?” said he, with his hand to his cap.

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The lieutenant dismounted from his horse, ran his eye up and down the river, and said the place selected for the camp would answer the purpose. He directed the sergeant to detail some of the men to clear away the underbrush, the others to take care of the horses and pitch the tents, while he and Carl removed their saddles and seated themselves at the foot of the nearest tree to have their talk out. The tents were pitched, one for himself and Carl and the other for the men, and one of the soldiers proceeded to wash his hands and begin to get supper.

But we don’t propose to spend much time with their supper or with the hunts that came off during the week following. We have set out to write about the Ghost Dance and the various incidents connected with it, and so the hunting will have to do for another story. It will be enough to say that the party was successful beyond its hopes; that one wagon was loaded in two days and sent to the fort under the command of a corporal, that they killed more than one bear, and that the lieutenant fairly shot himself into the good graces Page 50 of Carl, the Trailer. In fact his marksmanship rather surprised himself, he had been so long out of practice. He either shot his game dead, or it did not run over fifty yards before it was found. Carl began to treat the lieutenant with more courtesy than he had previously shown him.

But at length the week for which they had come out drew to a close, and they began making preparations to return to the fort. When they were ready to start, Carl, who had been behaving rather strangely of late, keeping his Winchester with him all the while and walking around the camp when he supposed everyone else was asleep, drew up beside Parker, who was riding in his usual place behind the wagon.

“Have you seen any signs of Indians lately?” he asked.

“Nary sign,” replied Parker, “and I looked closely, too.”

“Well, I saw some,” replied the guide in a quiet way which made the lieutenant open his eyes. “I saw the print of an Indian’s foot by the side of that stream that we were hunting Page 51 upon a few days ago, and I know that they have been loafing around our camp ever since.”

“Why did you not tell me of it?” asked Parker with some heat.

“What good would it have done? You were having a good time during our hunt, and I did not want to say anything to take away your pleasure. Besides, they were too small a party to attack us, if they had any such thought in mind, and were only watching us to see where we went. It is my belief that we shall see some more of them before we reach the fort.”

Lieutenant Parker was profoundly astonished. The idea that his guide should see Indian signs and say nothing to him about it was something he had never dreamed of. It was not treating him right as commander of the expedition. He did not want to say anything more to him, and Carl, as if guessing the way his thoughts ran, relapsed into silence and rode on without saying a word; but he kept his eyes open, and carefully scanned the top of every swell they passed. Lieutenant Page 52 Parker did likewise, for somehow he could not get over the thought that was uppermost in the mind of the guide “that they would be sure to see more of the Indians before they reached the fort.” Sergeant Leeds was an old soldier, and was constantly on the lookout for suspicious signs; consequently he was not at all alarmed when he discovered a solitary savage, on the top of a neighboring hill, closely watching all their movements. He took one look at him, and then reined in his horse to wait until his superior came up.

“There’s a Sioux up there, sir,” said he, “and he seems to be more interested in our movements than we are ourselves.”

Lieutenant Parker had thus far ridden with his hands in his pockets, but when he pulled them out to take up the reins he found that they trembled in spite of himself.