White Otter Part 15

The Ogalalas had repulsed this last attack without losing a man, although a number of warriors had been more or less severely wounded.

They knew that they had inflicted heavy punishment upon the p.a.w.nees, and they believed that the latter would be slow to renew the fight. The thought gave them considerable relief. They hoped that a strong force of tribesmen were racing to their aid, and they realized that if they could hold out another day they might be saved.

The p.a.w.nees soon tired of riding around the village, and finally withdrew far out on the plain. Then, leaving a sufficient number of sentinels on each side of the camp, the several war parties united and rode from sight over a distant ridge. The Sioux knew at once that they had gone to hold a council of war, and they hoped that they might decide to abandon the siege.

"No, I do not believe that they will go away," said Wolf Robe. "They have come here to do a great thing. We have killed many of their people.

Their hearts are very black against us. We must watch them. Perhaps they will wait until it is dark. But I must tell you that I believe they will make another great fight. Perhaps our brothers, the Minneconjoux, will come before that time. If they do not come here, then I do not know what will happen. I have spoken."

Soon after sunrise the p.a.w.nees reappeared. Once more they separated into four companies. The suspicious Sioux watched them with much anxiety.

However, it was soon evident that for the moment, at least, they had no intention of attacking the camp. They sat quietly on the ponies, watching the village like a pack of hungry wolves around a herd of buffaloes.

"Those people are thinking about something," said Yellow Horse. "We must be very cautious."

"Yes, I believe they will try to fool us," declared old Crying Wolf, a warrior who had seen more than ninety winters.

However, as the day wore on, and the p.a.w.nees made no further attempts against the village, the Sioux began to take heart. They believed that their determined foes were waiting to make one supreme effort under cover of the night, and they comforted themselves with the thought that their tribesmen would come to their a.s.sistance in the meantime. They felt sure that High Eagle had reached the Minneconjoux and delivered his appeal for aid. They peered anxiously toward the west, therefore, hoping each moment to see the dust signal that would tell them that help was at hand.

Then, when the long day finally pa.s.sed, and the sun disappeared below the plain, their hopes began to dwindle. The thought of night filled them with dread. They had a gloomy premonition that unless the Minneconjoux arrived before dark, their own efforts would at last prove ineffectual. They believed that the vastly superior strength of their foes would eventually give them the victory. As yet the p.a.w.nees had withdrawn before the deadly volleys that met them at the edge of the camp, but the Sioux feared that in the final attempt they might make one supreme sacrifice to achieve their object. In that event the Ogalalas realized that it would be impossible to keep them from the village. Once they had gained a foothold, their superiority in numbers would soon give them the victory. The bravest Sioux heart faltered at the possibility.

They knew that it would mean torture and death for themselves, and captivity and slavish drudgery for their women and children. The peril appalled them. They turned their anxious faces to the sky and asked the Great Mystery to help them. Then they waited calmly for the falling of darkness, determined to meet whatever fate awaited them with the undying courage of their race.

"My people, I must tell you that my heart is heavy," said Wolf Robe, as the light slowly faded from the plain. "I have looked for something, but it has not come. I have listened for something, but I have not heard it. Curly Horse and his warriors are not here. Pretty soon it will be dark. I feel bad about it. Some of our bravest men are dead. Some are hurt and cannot fight. We have used many arrows. The p.a.w.nees are very strong. They are like mad wolves. Their medicine-men will talk to them.

They will tell them to do great things. When it is dark I believe they will rush ahead to fight us. Perhaps they will leave their ponies and crawl close to the lodges. We must watch with the eyes of the great war bird, and listen with the ears of the deer. But if they get into the camp, then we must fight until we die. Our women and children are in those lodges. I will ask you to keep thinking about it. Perhaps something has happened to High Eagle. The Minneconjoux have not come. I do not know about that. I have finished."

When Wolf Robe had ceased speaking, several famous warriors ran to the center of the camp and called out in a loud tone so that all might hear.

They urged their comrades to be brave, and declared that the odds against them were not sufficient to cause defeat. They reminded their listeners that having successfully repulsed every attack of their foes, there was no reason to believe that they would not be equally successful in the final a.s.sault. They declared that they had no doubt that a great Minneconjoux war party was racing to their aid. They recalled many desperate battles with these same hated foes in which they had turned apparent defeat into victory. In this way these stout-hearted men infused their own heroic confidence into the hearts of their tribesmen, and roused them from the depths of gloom to the highest pitch of enthusiasm.

"My brothers, I have listened to the words of those brave men," cried old Crying Wolf. "I am a very old man. My arms are weak. My eyes do not travel far. I am like a crooked stick. But those great words have made me strong. Yes, I am anxious to fight the p.a.w.nees. I cannot send my arrows far, but if any of those people rush into the village I will count another coup before I die. My people, listen to the words of a very old man. Well, I must tell you what is in my heart. I believe that White Otter will do another great thing. Yes, I believe he will bring the great chief, Curly Horse, and his people to help us. I do not believe I will come out of this battle. But I will tell you that I am not afraid. No, I have been in many fights. I have killed many enemies.

I have lived a long time. It is enough. Now I will do the best I can. I have finished."

The simple heroism of this famous old warrior found a ready sympathy in the hearts of his people. As he tottered toward the edge of the camp to take his place in the fighting line, his loyal self-sacrifice fired the resolution of the warriors and filled them with a determination to uphold the splendid traditions for which this aged veteran was willing to die.

As the evening shadows gradually closed in about the camp the p.a.w.nees showed sudden signs of renewed activity. They approached nearer to the village, as if they feared that the Sioux might attempt to send away scouts under cover of the dusk. Then riders began to race about the plain, apparently carrying instructions to the various war companies.

This maneuver made the Ogalalas believe that their foes had become impatient, and intended to attack them without further delay.

"Those riders are telling the war leaders the words of the great war chief," said Wolf Robe. "Pretty soon they will rush ahead to fight us.

Curly Horse and his people are not here. We must make this great fight alone."

A few moments afterward the p.a.w.nees faded from sight in the gathering gloom, and the Sioux increased their vigilance. The thought of what might happen before the dawn of another day filled them with many disturbing misgivings. Still they knew that it would be fatal to give way to those dismal premonitions. Therefore, they fought down their doubts and fortified themselves with the determination to administer a final, crus.h.i.+ng defeat to their foes.

During the day Wolf Robe had ordered the women to collect the supply of fire-wood and distribute it in a number of piles along the edge of the camp. Now, as darkness closed down, he appointed a lad, with a buffalo horn containing tinder and several glowing embers, to stand beside each pile of fuel. In the event of the p.a.w.nees dismounting and attempting to steal into the camp under cover of the night, the crafty Ogalala chief planned to ignite his beacons and flood the village and the surrounding plain with light.

Wolf Robe's precaution was a timely one, for the wily p.a.w.nees did exactly what he feared they might attempt. Dismounting some distance from the village, they left their ponies under a strong guard and advanced noiselessly on foot. They were within bow-shot of the camp before the Sioux discovered them. Then, as they heard the alarm, they rushed forward, yelling at the top of their voices to confuse their enemies.

However, the Sioux had already called to the boys with the embers, and before the p.a.w.nees actually reached the edge of the village the dry fuel was blazing fiercely, and the camp was flooded with light. The unexpected illumination completely surprised the invaders, and for a moment they hesitated in bewilderment. The Sioux took advantage of the opportunity, and delivered a furious volley of arrows at short range.

Attacked at the very moment when they were attempting to rally from their sudden surprise, the p.a.w.nees fell back in dismay. Then, as the arrows of the Sioux continued to thin their ranks, they recovered from their bewilderment and rushed recklessly to the border of the camp. A desperate struggle immediately followed, as the opposing forces met in a deadly hand-to-hand encounter. Warrior grappled with warrior, and the fight became a series of personal combats. The Sioux were greatly handicapped by the odds against them, but the terrorized cries of the women and children in the lodges gave them courage, and they fought with a strength and courage that astounded their foes. The old men and the boys fought as heroically as the warriors. For a time their gallant efforts seemed of little avail, for the p.a.w.nees were determined to enter the village. In spite of their superior numbers, however, they were unable to fight their way between the valiant Ogalalas. The latter were resolved to die rather than yield a foot of ground, and their indomitable courage made them invincible. At last their heroic struggle was crowned with success, for the p.a.w.nees began to give way. Fearing a trap, Wolf Robe called out and warned his people against leaving the camp to follow them. There was one, however, for whom the caution had no meaning. It was old Crying Wolf. He seemed to have suddenly gone mad from excitement. Whooping shrilly, the aged warrior left the village and hobbled boldly after the retreating p.a.w.nees. As several Ogalalas rushed to his rescue he fell, a bow-shot from the camp, with a p.a.w.nee arrow through his heart.

When their foes had retreated into the night, the Sioux took account of their loss. They found that the encounter had cost them dear, for many prominent warriors had sacrificed themselves to keep the p.a.w.nees from the village. The death of old Crying Wolf filled them with gloom, and they recalled his ominous prophecy on the eve of the battle.

"He was a great man," said Wolf Robe, who had survived the encounter unharmed. "Crying Wolf did many things for his people. But he was very old. He died like a warrior. I believe it is the thing he wanted to do.

Now he has gone on the Long Trail. Well, we will talk about him a long time."

However, the Ogalalas found little time to either eulogize the dead or attend the wounded, for it was not long before the night again rang with excited whoops. It was evident that the p.a.w.nees intended to make another attempt to enter the camp. The Sioux threw fresh fuel on the fires, and watched anxiously for their foes to appear within the great circle of light that surrounded the village. The yells were quickly followed by the thunder of hoofs, and the Ogalalas realized that the p.a.w.nees were again relying on their ponies to force their way into the village.

This time the fighting was even fiercer than in the preceding attacks.

The reckless bravery of the invaders soon made it evident that they were staking everything on one great final a.s.sault. The thought nerved the Sioux to fight as they had never fought before. In spite of their heroism, however, some of the p.a.w.nees found a weak spot in the line of defense, and gained a foothold in the village. Before they could reach the ponies, or the lodges which sheltered the women and children, Wolf Robe led a picked company of warriors to attack them. They fought with a wild fury that finally forced the invaders from the camp. In the desperate encounter, however, Wolf Robe and Yellow Horse were separated from their companions, and surrounded by their foes. The p.a.w.nees instantly recognized these two famous warriors, and, instead of killing them, they made them prisoners, and carried them away before the Ogalalas knew what had happened.

A few moments later word of the capture was carried through the entire force of p.a.w.nees. They immediately abandoned the attack on the camp, and raced away, yelling in triumph. The unexpected maneuver caused wild rejoicing among the Ogalalas, who were still ignorant of the desperate plight of their unfortunate tribesmen.

The p.a.w.nees had already ridden beyond hearing when the first inquiry for Wolf Robe was made. Then, as they were searching for him among the warriors at the edge of the camp, they suddenly missed Yellow Horse.

When they failed to find them, the Ogalalas were thrown into a frenzy of despair. At first they believed that both these great men had been killed, but when they did not find them among those who had fallen in the fight, the truth suddenly flashed into their minds.

"Wolf Robe and Yellow Horse have been carried away by the p.a.w.nees!"

When the terrible announcement rang through the camp, the Ogalalas were stunned into silence. It was the crowning shock of the great disaster which had befallen them, and they were unable to rally from the blow.

They realized the hopelessness of attempting an immediate rescue, and they feared that to delay would mean certain death to their famous tribesmen. While the princ.i.p.al men of the tribe were gathered in gloomy council, attempting to determine the wisest plan of action, they were roused by a joyous shout from the warriors along the west side of the camp.

"We have heard the bark of the little gray fox!" they cried, excitedly.

"Yes, our people are coming. Listen, someone is leading ponies to the camp."

"We must be cautious; perhaps they are p.a.w.nees," warned Spotted Dog, a famous war leader, who had a.s.sumed command.

"Well, pretty soon they will come into the light. Then we will see who they are," declared the impatient watchers.

CHAPTER XV

WHITE OTTER'S BOLD RESOLVE

White Otter's anxiety for his people made him indifferent to his own safety, and he rode recklessly through the night, risking ambush and sudden death at the hands of his foes. High Eagle and Little Raven seemed equally unconcerned. They were willing to take desperate chances to get within sight of the Ogalala village and learn the answer to the question that was torturing their minds. As they actually neared the vicinity, however, White Otter himself advised greater caution.

"We are coming close to our enemies," he said. "If they kill us then what we have done will be foolish. A scout must save himself to help his people. Now we will go ahead easy. We must watch, and listen like the fox."

They slackened their ponies and advanced very cautiously. For a long time they heard nothing to rouse their suspicions, and the very stillness added to their fears. They wondered whether the p.a.w.nees, having achieved their object, had already ridden away. Their courage weakened at the thought. Then, as they stopped on the crest of a ridge, they heard a wild outburst of yells, far away toward the east. Their hearts beat frantically as they turned to one another with flas.h.i.+ng eyes.

"Listen!" cried White Otter. "The fight is still going on. Yes, the Ogalalas are keeping the Wolf People out of the camp. Come, we will ride over there and try to do something."

They galloped away in the direction of the Ogalala camp. However, when they again stopped to listen, the noise had ceased. They listened anxiously, hoping to hear something that would tell them that the Sioux had successfully withstood the attack. The silence troubled them. It made it evident that the fight was over. The thought suggested a number of alarming possibilities.

"Come, my brothers, we must go near to the camp," declared White Otter.

"Then we will know about this thing."

As they started away they again heard a wild clamor in the direction of the Ogalala village, and they believed that the fight had been renewed.

The thought filled them with hope, for they knew that the Sioux had repulsed the first attack successfully. As the confused babel of sound echoed faintly across the plain, the three scouts stopped and made an earnest appeal to the Great Mystery. Then they lashed their ponies into a furious sprint, and raced away to aid their tribesmen.

"I believe those scouts have told their people about us," cried White Otter. "Now they know about the war party that is coming to fight them.

They are making another great fight to get into the camp. Perhaps they will do this thing. I am thinking about it. It is bad."