"Bring Me His Ears" Part 17

"Giddap," said Uncle Joe, and chuckled all the more.

"But it was!"

"It learned 'em all a lesson," he replied. "May save their fool lives, and ours, too. Giddap!"

It was a long haul to Turkey Creek, but the caravan made it and was corralled before dark. Buffalo signs had been seen shortly before the creek was reached, and when old Indian signs were found near the camp site, the day's excitement took on new life. A broken lodge-pole, some odds and ends of tanned hides and a discarded moccasin, somehow overlooked by the Indians' dogs, were discovered near the blackened spots on the prairie where camp-fires had burned. The night pa.s.sed quietly, every sentry flat against the earth and trying to rob the senses of smell and touch to enrich those of sight and hearing.

In leaving the creek, the two column formation was abandoned and the wagons rolled up the little divide in four evenly s.p.a.ced divisions.

There was some semblance of flankers and a rear guard now, and even the cannons were not forsaken. Then came the great moment.

Two hours after the creek had been left the first herd of buffalo was sighted. That it was a small one and more likely to provide tough bull rather than fat cow, made no difference; rear guard, flankers, and cannon were forgotten in one mad, frantic, and ridiculous rush. Men dashed off toward the herd without even their pistols. In ten minutes a moderate sized war-party could have swept down on the caravan and had things nearly their own way. There would have been no buffalo meat in camp that night except that the experienced hunters with the advance guard managed to down two cows and three bulls before the yelling, excitement-maddened crowd stampeded the little herd and drove it all over the prairie.

One tenderfoot, better mounted than his fellows, managed to keep up with a running bull, firing ball after ball into it as fast as he could re-load. He was learning that a bull-buffalo was a hard animal to kill, and when it finally wheeled and charged him, he also learned that it was willing to fight when goaded and made desperate with wounds. Another greenhorn, to get better aim, dismounted and knelt on the earth. With the roar of his gun his horse, with all its trappings, gave one snort and ran away, joining the herd and running with it. It was an hour before anyone had time to listen to his entreaties, and then it was too late to go after the runaway animal. He hoofed it back to the caravan, an angry but wiser man, and was promptly robbed by the man from whom he bought a horse.

It was an open question whether buffalo tongue or beaver tail was the better eating, but no one in the caravan had any fault to find with the portions of buffalo meat which fell to their lot. Despite the toughness and tastelessness of the old bull meat, it was the first fresh meat they had enjoyed since leaving Independence, with the exception of the few who had shared in Hank's antelope, and its poor qualities were overlooked. No one had a chance to gorge himself and to learn that overeating of buffalo flesh causes no distress. They found the meat with the fat and lean more intermixed, juicier, and of a coa.r.s.er grain than beef. The choice bits were from the tongue, the udder came next in merit, followed by the hump-ribs, tenderloins, and marrow bones. They were fortunate in the selection of the bulls which had been killed, for they were quite fat and in this condition ran the cow meat a close race; all but one old bull, which was tough and stringy beyond belief. Despite the fact that the next camp spot was not very far ahead, the caravan nooned on the open prairie for the cooking of the fresh meat.

The captain signalled for the four-square corral and the evolution was creditably performed. The animals were unhitched and staked outside the enclosure and soon many fires were burning around the encampment and the savory odors of broiling buffalo meat arose on all sides. Coffee pots steeped or boiled at every fire, for coffee was the one unstinted drink of the caravan. It was not long before the encampment was surrounded by groups seated around the fires, most of the men eating with their fingers, Indian fas.h.i.+on, and from the universal satisfaction shown it was evident that buffalo meat had been given a high place by every palate. In contrast to a steady diet of bacon it was a feast fit for epicures. The travelers cared little about their good fortune in finding cows with the first small herd, instead of the usual vanguard or outpost of bulls, for the cows had been there and they had obtained two of them.

Two hours later the caravan was moving again, and late that afternoon reached the Little Arkansas, where the first trouble with a treacherous river bed was experienced.

Knowing what was in store for them, the captain and his lieutenants went ahead with a force of workers to cut a way through the steep banks and to bridge the muddy bed. They found that the banks had been cut by the preceding caravan, but the causeway by now was useless, except as a foundation for a new one. The stream was not very wide, but made up for that by the meanness of its bottom. The trees and brush along the banks provided material for the temporary causeway and it did not take long to build up a "bridge."

The more or less easy-going manner of the captain changed here and his commands had a snap to them that should have given them an unquestioned weight. Because of the restricted s.p.a.ce chosen for the camp, the circular corral was formed, and as the divisions reached and crossed the causeway they fell in behind the last wagon of the one ahead and crawled around until the circle was complete and compact. All animals were to be staked outside the circle until twilight and then driven inside and hobbled for the night. Care was taken to see that there were but few gaps between the wagons and that those were securely closed by chains.

The length of the first tour of guard duty was increased considerably, for the first watch went on as soon as the wagons stopped. They were getting fairly into the Indian country now. Directly north of them lay the range of the p.a.w.nees; to the west of that the home of the Cheyennes; directly west of the Little Arkansas roamed the Arapahoes, and to the southwest were the Kiowas and Comanches, both of the latter superb cavalrymen. The last three tribes were being stirred by jealous New Mexicans to hara.s.s the caravans. And the interest of all these tribes, and of others beyond them in several directions, was centered on the prairie between the Little Arkansas and the valley of the Arkansas, eastward from where the latter river left the mountains. This was the great range of the buffalo, and the buffalo was food, clothing, habitation, and figured very largely in other necessaries of the savage tribes.

The peculiar, curving, and ever-s.h.i.+fting migration of the great herds was followed by hunting parties, which became war-parties in a wink.

Many were the b.l.o.o.d.y battles fought between the tribes on that stretch of prairie between the Little Arkansas and the two c.o.o.n Creeks. The p.a.w.nees claimed sovereignty over that part of the country around p.a.w.nee Rock, but it was one that the tribe did not dare to enjoy with any degree of permanence. Raiding parties from the south, west, and north constantly challenged their t.i.tle, and because of these collisions hardly a hunting party dared show itself unless in strength. There were, it is true, small bands roaming the plains, especially after dark, which traveled on foot; but these were out with the avowed and set purpose of stealing horses, on which, if successful, they made their escape and rode home. This especially was a p.a.w.nee trick, and especially adept were the p.a.w.nees in creeping up to a herd of draft animals and stampeding the whole bunch. More than one party of traders had thus been left afoot in mid-prairie and forced to abandon what they could not carry on their backs. While the p.a.w.nee country was supposed to be north of the Platte, up around the Loup Fork, they often raided in force well into the Comanche and Apache country and were as much at home on the south side of the Arkansas River as on any other part of the plains.

When the orders came to drive the animals inside the corral and hobble them, there was a great deal of complaint. It was contended that they could not get food enough in such a restricted s.p.a.ce, crowded as it would be with horses, oxen, and mules; that they would injure each other; that there would be great trouble in each man getting his own in the morning; that they would burst through some weak spot and wander away during the night. To all these objections the captain remained obdurate. Any man who left his animals outside the corral and lost them would not be given replacements at the expense of other teams, and could make what s.h.i.+ft he thought best for the transportation of his merchandise.

Tom and his trapper friends, with some of the more experienced traders, went among the grumblers and labored with them, preaching that from now on the utmost, unremitting vigilance would be necessary day and night, for the danger of losing the animals would grow with every mile and would not cease until the Mexican settlements were nearly in sight. And the worse the weather was, the greater would be the need to be alert; for with tumultuous Nature to arouse the excitability of the animals and to mask the movements of the Indians, a savage raid would scarcely fail to cause a wholesale stampede unless the strictest watch was maintained.

To make up for the poor grazing inside the corralled wagons, the picketing outside the circle in the evening would be supplemented by more grazing on the outside before leaving in the morning. This would necessitate later starts, but it could not be avoided.

Tom and Hank were not quite through eating their evening meal when Pedro paid them a visit.

"Ah, senores," he beamed, "I haf laughed thees day! Just like my Mexico eet was to see thee _atejo_ that you haf! Thee _mulera_ weeth her seven childr-ren mar-rching behind her like _soldats_!" He leaned back and laughed heartily, his teeth gleaming like old ivory.

Hank grinned and glanced at Tom. "If she'd only lead 'em 'round th'

customs we'd think a hull lot more o' her. It riles me ter have ter pay ter git our goods inter a town arter such hard work gittin' 'em _to_ it."

"Ah," replied Pedro, smiling broadly. "That ees thee law," he reproved them. "But I deed not know you were going to Santa Fe, senores. Eet was said somewhere, by somebody, I do not remember who, that you were going to thee Senor Bent on thee Arkansas. To hunt and to tr-rap, was eet not?"

Tom emptied his pipe and blew through the stem. "No," he said. "We're goin' ter Santa Fe. After we sell th' goods we aim ter go up ter Bent's for th' fall an' winter huntin' an' trappin'. Takes a lot o' money ter outfit two men th' way they should be, fer a hull season in the mountains." He grinned. "That's why we're packin' goods ter Santa Fe.

Got to raise some money." Arising he nodded to his guest. "Now, if ye'll excuse me, friend, I'll leave ye with Hank. See ye later, mebby?"

Pedro nodded and laughed heartily, wagging an accusing finger at the young plainsman. "Ah, what should keep a br-rave _caballero_ from sooch a senorita! Pedro has eyes, senor; an' Pedro, he weesh you ver' _mucho_ luck. He weesh you so ver' _mucho_ luck that per-rhaps he can get you past those customs. Of thees we weel talk more, eh?"

Hank slapped his leg and pushed his plug of tobacco into the visitor's hands. "Smoke some of that thar Virginny, friend," he urged. "Ye'll find it some better than that thar husk, or willer bark you people smoke." He looked at his partner and chuckled. "These hyar young fellers, now; thar jest ain't no holdin' 'em."

Pedro thought that this particular young "feller" was going to be held very securely before he saw Santa Fe, but he grinned and waved his hand, and after Tom had disappeared among the wagons he turned toward the hunter.

"Has Senor Boyd ever been een our Santa Fe?" he asked in polite curiosity.

Hank nodded carelessly. "He war thar some years back."

"Perhaps then I can show heem a new way to thee city," said Pedro, significantly. "One that my br-rother knows ver' good. Thee knowledge of thees tr-rail ees of _mucho_ less cost than thee customs that you an' me like so leetle. But of thees we weel talk more some other time. I must leeve you, senor. _Adios._"

"_Adios_, senor," beamed Hank, again offering the plug.

After a quiet night and a somewhat later start than usual, the day's run to Cow Creek began, and not five miles from the camp site a sizable herd of buffalo was sighted. The same thing took place again, the same confusion, the same senseless chasing without weapons, but this time there was added the total abandonment of several wagons while the drivers, unhitching one animal, grabbed guns and joined in the attack, not realizing that mules hardly were suited for chasing an animal which, clumsy as it appeared, nearly equalled a horse in speed when once started on its awkward gallop. But in the results of the chase there was one noticeable difference between this and the previous hunt, for the green nimrods had asked questions of the hunters since their first try at the prairie cattle, and they had cherished the answers. They no longer fired blindly, after the first flush of their excitement died down, for now they ranged up alongside their lumbering victims from the rear and aimed a little behind the short ribs, or a few inches above the brisket and behind the shoulder. And this hunt was a great success from the standpoint of the plainsmen who had bought Colt's newfangled repeating pistols, for they proved their deadliness in such capable hands, and speeded up the kill.

A group of tenderfeet watched an old hunter butcher a fat cow in almost the time it takes to tell of it, slitting the skin along the spine from the shoulder to the tail, and down in front of the shoulder and around the neck. He removed it as far down as the brisket and laid the freed skin on the ground to receive the fleece from along the spine, the protruding hump ribs, which he severed with a tomahawk; and then he added the liver, tongue, kidneys, certain parts of the intestine, and one shoulder. Severing the other shoulder and cutting the skin free on both sides of the body, he bundled up the choice cuts in it, carried it to his horse and returned to camp. In a few moments the butchering became general, and soon the triumphant hunters returned to the wagons with fresh meat enough to provide an unstinted feast for the entire caravan.

The journey was resumed and the twenty miles to Cow Creek was made in good time. Here the difficulties of the Little Arkansas were again met and conquered and the wagons corralled before dark.

It was at this camp that Tom and Hank became certain that they were being spied upon by Pedro and his companions. Seated around their fire, smoking with deep content after a heavy meal of fresh buffalo meat, Hank began to push his foot back and forth on the ground, making deeper and deeper, longer and longer, the groove his moccasin heel was slowly wearing in the soft earth. Finally his foot touched his companion's knee but, without pausing, kept wearing down the groove.

"Th' geese went over early this year," he said, looking up at the starry sky. "Reckon we'll have th' hot weather a leetle ahead o' time on th'

Dry Route."

Tom did not change a muscle as the familiar, warning sentence struck his ears. "Yes," he replied. "Be glad when I gits inter Santa Fe, with th'

cool mountains all around. Reckon you'll spend most o' your time playin'

_monte_, an' be clean busted when it's time ter hit th' trail fer Bent's."

Hank laughed softly. "Did I hear ye say Jim Ogden had some good likker?"

he asked.

"That's what I said."

"'Tain't none o' that thar Taos lightnin'?" skeptically inquired Hank.

"How could it be, him jest a-comin' from Missouri?"

"Wall," chuckled Hank, slowly rising. "Reckon I'll wander over an' see fer myself. Jim must be considerable lonesome, 'bout now."

"Must be, with only Zeb, Alonzo, Enoch, and a pa.s.sel o' them fool tenderfeet a-settin' 'round his fire," snorted Tom. "Go ahead an' git yer likker; I'll wait fer ye hyar."

It was only a few minutes later when Hank returned, shaking his head.

"All gone," he mourned, and sat down again, regarding the dying embers.

"Jest my luck."

Tom laughed. "Yer better off without it," he replied, and communed with his thoughts.

Minutes pa.s.sed in reflective silence and then Jim Ogden loomed up beside them. "Come on over," he invited, grinning. "Thar warn't no use showin'

a bottle with them thirsty greenhorns settin' 'round ter lick it up. Now that thar gone, we'll pa.s.s it 'round."

Hank looked knowingly at his partner as he hastily arose, and the three went off together. When half way to the other fire Jim spoke in a low voice.