Produced by Chris Curnow, Michael, Josephine Paolucci and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. [Illustration: HE SHOT HIS ARROW [page 106]] THREE SIOUX SCOUTS BY ELMER RUSSELL GREGOR AUTHOR OF "THE WAR TRAIL," "SPOTTED DEER," "THE WHITE WOLF," "RUNNING FOX," "WHITE OTTER," ETC. D. APPLETON AND COMPANY NEW YORK :: 1924 :: LONDON COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. WATCHING FOR BUFFALOES 1 II. MYSTERIOUS SIGNALS 11 III. OLD ENEMIES 23 IV. TRAILING A WAR PARTY 39 V. OFF TO WARN THE CHEYENNES 53 VI. A PERILOUS MISSION 64 VII. RED DOG'S STRATAGEM 74 VIII. THE ATTACK ON THE CAMP 88 IX. PAWNEES 100 X. A DESPERATE CHASE 113 XI. A NIGHT OF SURPRISES 124 XII. FRIENDS 137 XIII. THE ABANDONED CAMP 149 XIV. IN PURSUIT OF THE KIOWAS 162 XV. DARING SCOUTS 176 XVI. A THRILLING RESCUE 187 XVII. DISASTER 205 XVIII. REËNFORCEMENTS 218 XIX. THE PAWNEES AT BAY 230 XX. A HARD WON VICTORY 242 THREE SIOUX SCOUTS CHAPTER I WATCHING FOR BUFFALOES White Otter, the famous young war chief of the Ogalala Sioux, and his friends Sun Bird and Little Raven, of the Minneconjoux tribe, were searching the plains for buffaloes. It was early spring, the time of The-new-grass-moon, and the Sioux were expecting the great buffalo herds on their migration northward from the winter feeding grounds. "Pretty soon Ta-tan-ka will come--then we will have some good days and plenty of meat," White Otter told his friends. "Yellow Horse is singing the Medicine Songs to bring the buffaloes. They will come." "My father does that," said Sun Bird. "I have seen him do it many times." "Your father is a great Medicine Person, like Yellow Horse," declared White Otter. Although the villages of the Ogalalas and the Minneconjoux were many days' travel apart, the young warriors visited one another with considerable frequency. The year previous White Otter had accompanied the Minneconjoux on a great war expedition against the Blackfeet. Now Sun Bird and his brother, Little Raven, had come to the Ogalala village to participate in the spring buffalo hunt. The three young scouts made an impressive appearance as they cantered across the plain on their speedy little hunting ponies. White Otter was tall and lithe. Sun Bird was considerably shorter, and heavier in physique. Little Raven was younger and less matured in face and stature. All showed the characteristics of the Dacotah warrior. They were fearless, cautious and crafty. Each had proved his courage and skill in a number of thrilling exploits, and despite their youthfulness all three were famous warriors. They wore the simple dress of the hunter, which consisted of moccasins, and buckskin leggins reaching to the thighs. They were naked above the waist. Their hair was worn in two braids wrapped with fur. White Otter and Sun Bird, as chiefs of their respective tribes, were entitled to wear the coveted war bonnet of eagle plumes. Both had left it off to be as inconspicuous as possible in their search for game. White Otter, however, wore a single eagle feather in his scalp lock. They were armed with bows and arrows and flint hunting knives. White Otter and Sun Bird carried fire sticks. Each was provided with a robe of elkskin which was folded beneath him, across the back of his pony. For two days they had searched the plains to the southward of the Ogalala camp. They had seen nothing, however, to indicate the approach of the great buffalo herds. Still they felt certain that it would be only a day or so until the buffaloes appeared. "When we see them we will ride fast and tell my people," said White Otter. "Yes, yes, we will be the first to tell about it," Little Raven declared, enthusiastically. They were a considerable distance from the Ogalala village, and as the third day drew toward its close they began to wonder if it might not be foolhardy to venture farther to the southward. They knew that there was a possibility of encountering both the Kiowas and the Pawnees in that direction, and the Utes from the west and even their hated foes, the Crows, sometimes moved down into that disputed territory. The Sioux realized, therefore, that they were exposing themselves to considerable danger. "We have come a long ways--we must watch out," White Otter cautioned. "It is true," agreed Sun Bird. "The Pawnees travel in this country. Perhaps they are looking around for buffaloes. We must be cautious." They had stopped at a little grove of cottonwoods, which offered feed and water for the ponies. As the day had almost ended, they were tempted to spend the night at that spot. White Otter, however, decided against it. "It would be foolish," he declared. "Our enemies know about this place. Perhaps they will come here when it gets dark. We must ride away." "It is the best thing to do," said Sun Bird. They loitered until the ponies had finished feeding, and then they prepared to ride away. At that moment a small band of antelopes suddenly appeared on the crest of a low ridge to the westward. They had stopped, and seemed to be watching something on the other side of the ridge. It was evident that they had been alarmed. The Sioux became suspicious. They watched closely. "Something has frightened Ta-to-ka-dan," said Sun Bird. "See, they are running down the ridge," Little Raven whispered, excitedly. The antelopes were bounding down the slope. When they reached the bottom they turned toward the little grove in which the Sioux had taken shelter. The latter watched them with considerable uneasiness. "It is bad," declared White Otter. "Perhaps some one is peeping over that hill. If those antelopes come close they will find out about us. Then they will run away. If hunters are watching on that ridge they will know that something is over here in this place. Perhaps they will come here to find out about it." "It is bad," said Sun Bird. The antelopes were still running toward the grove. Several old bucks, however, had stopped to look back at the ridge. The rest of the band continued across the plain. They were running against the wind. As they came within arrow range of the grove they suddenly stopped, and appeared suspicious. They had caught the danger scent. "Ta-to-ka-dan is sharp," laughed Sun Bird. "The wind has told about us," said Little Raven. White Otter kept silent. He watched the antelopes with grave misgivings. Their behavior alarmed him. He felt quite sure that they would arouse the distrust of any foes who might be loitering within sight, and tempt them to investigate the grove. The idea suggested disturbing possibilities. "See, Ta-to-ka-dan is standing out there like a frightened old woman," he said, irritably. "If our enemies are about they will come over here to see what has frightened Ta-to-ka-dan." "Come, we will ride away," proposed Little Raven. "Wait, wait," Sun Bird cried, excitedly. "I saw something peep over the top of that hill." "I see it," said Little Raven. "It looks like Ma-ya-sh, the wolf." They saw what appeared to be the head of a prairie wolf rising cautiously above the top of the ridge. The buck antelopes had discovered it, and were flashing the danger signal and stamping nervously. "It is bad," White Otter said, uneasily. "Perhaps it is Ma-ya-sh, the wolf--perhaps it is a hunter. We must watch sharp." As they continued to watch the ridge, the little band of antelopes suddenly turned and bounded away toward the north. It was evident that they had determined to avoid the grove. In a few moments the bucks that had been watching the ridge cantered after them. "It is good," said White Otter. "Now we will find out who is over there on that hill. If it is Ma-ya-sh and his people they will go away. If it is our enemies they will keep watching this place." "Something is watching," Sun Bird told him. The head of the mysterious prowler still showed above the ridge. It was boldly outlined against the fading sunset sky. It appeared to be the head of Ma-ya-sh, the prairie wolf. The Sioux distinctly saw the long, lean snout, and the pointed ears of Ma-ya-sh. Still they were suspicious. They knew that scouts often covered themselves with the skin of Ma-ya-sh to creep up on game, and also to spy upon their foes without arousing distrust. "I do not believe it is Ma-ya-sh," White Otter declared, finally. "It keeps too still. Ma-ya-sh would move around. I believe it is a hunter." "We will watch," said Sun Bird. "Look, look, there is another!" cried Little Raven. A second head had suddenly appeared. It, too, seemed to be the head of a prairie wolf. The Sioux, however, were doubtful. If the distant objects really were wolves, their actions were most unusual. They were careful to keep themselves well concealed behind the ridge, and as the antelopes were a considerable distance to the northward, it was evident that the mysterious creatures were watching the grove. The Sioux were concealed in the timber, and there was no possibility of being seen. They determined to watch, therefore, until the strange objects on the ridge either showed themselves or disappeared. In a few moments one withdrew from sight. "That is bad," said White Otter. "Now I believe they are scouts. Perhaps one has gone away to call the hunters. We must watch out." Daylight was fading. Twilight was settling upon the plain. The Sioux found it difficult to distinguish the remaining object on the ridge. They felt considerably relieved to know that night was close at hand. "Pretty soon it will be dark," said White Otter. "Then we will ride away." They waited impatiently for nightfall. Their one fear was that a company of foes might ride toward the grove before darkness made it possible to withdraw without being seen. They had little fear of being caught, but they were anxious to avoid being discovered. Once seen, they realized that it might be perilous to loiter in the vicinity, and they were eager to remain until they found the buffalo herd. They watched closely until night finally came. Then they mounted their ponies and rode from the grove. "Well, White Otter, how do you feel about it?" Little Raven inquired, as they rode cautiously toward the east. "I believe we are in danger," White Otter told him. They continued across the plain until they came to a shallow ravine, which they had passed on their way to the grove. White Otter advised stopping there until daylight. "This is a good place," he said. "We will wait here and listen." They picketed the ponies in the bottom of the gully, and then they crawled to the plain to watch and listen. It was a long time before they heard anything to arouse their suspicions. Then they heard the dreary wail of a prairie wolf, in the direction of the grove. Although it sounded natural, the Sioux distrusted it. Twice it rose shrilly through the night, and then it ceased. They were almost certain that it had been a signal. They listened anxiously for an answer from the ridge. The silence, however, continued. "I believe it was a scout," said White Otter. "Perhaps he was calling his people." "Perhaps we will hear the ponies," suggested Little Raven. "We are too far off," White Otter told him. "Those people will ride easy." "Perhaps it was only Ma-ya-sh," said Sun Bird. "Perhaps he went there to drink." "Yes, it may be true, but I believe it was some one different," replied White Otter. "We are in the country of our enemies. We must be sharp." CHAPTER II MYSTERIOUS SIGNALS Fearful that a company of foes might have taken shelter in the little grove of cottonwoods, the Sioux determined to take every precaution against a sudden attack. While Little Raven remained in the ravine with the ponies, White Otter and Sun Bird seated themselves upon the plain to listen for sounds from the grove. All was still. They began to wonder if they had been needlessly alarmed. At that moment one of the ponies whinnied softly. White Otter and Sun Bird scrambled wildly into the gully. Little Raven had already seized the pony and turned its head out of the wind. The other ponies also seemed restless and nervous, and White Otter and Sun Bird attempted to quiet them. "It is bad," White Otter said, softly. "I believe some one is riding this way." The thought was startling. The Sioux stood beside their ponies, listening uneasily. One question flashed through the mind of each of them. Were enemies approaching stealthily under cover of the darkness? They heard nothing to give them a clew. Many moments passed. The silence increased their suspense. They believed they were in peril. It seemed folly to loiter in the ravine. "Come, we will go," whispered White Otter. They mounted the ponies and rode from the ravine. Once on the plain, they stopped for a moment to listen. Then the pony again attempted to call, but Little Raven silenced it with his riding quirt. The warning was significant. The Sioux believed that strange horses were close at hand. They turned their ponies and rode silently away into the night. It was some time before they ventured to speak. "Well, my brothers, I believe Ma-ya-sh came to find us," White Otter laughed, softly, when they were beyond earshot of the ravine. "Yes, White Otter, I believe your words were true; I believe scouts were peeping over that ridge," Sun Bird told him. "Do you believe they saw us?" Little Raven asked, anxiously. "No," replied White Otter. "Perhaps they found out about our ponies." Although they realized that it might be perilous to linger in the vicinity, the Sioux determined to remain within sight of the grove until they learned if their suspicions were real. When they reached a low ridge, a considerable distance to the eastward, they decided to stop and wait for daylight. "See, pretty soon it will be light," said Sun Bird. "Then we will find out if there is any one over there in that place." When the night shadows finally lifted from the plain, White Otter and Sun Bird concealed themselves below the crest of the ridge to watch, while Little Raven waited at the base of the slope with the ponies. The grove was in plain sight, and the Sioux watched expectantly. "If there are hunters over there, pretty soon they will ride out to look for buffaloes," said Sun Bird. "Perhaps they are watching," White Otter reminded him. A few moments later they saw two horsemen ride from the grove, and turn toward the ravine. They rode across the plain at an easy canter, and showed little caution. As they drew near the ravine, however, they became more careful. Once within arrow range, they stopped, and it was apparent that they were watching the top of the gully. Then they rode slowly forward. "Those are the scouts that peeped over that hill," declared White Otter. "I believe they are trying to find out about us." The horsemen had disappeared into the ravine. The Sioux had been unable to identify them. They felt certain that the strangers would soon find the pony tracks. The idea alarmed them. "Perhaps they will follow us," suggested Sun Bird. "Watch," said White Otter. The horsemen had suddenly appeared. They had crossed the ravine, and were riding slowly over the plain. The Sioux knew at once that they were looking for pony tracks. It was not long before they found them. They followed the trail a bowshot or more, and then they stopped. They were looking directly toward the ridge. The Sioux watched them in breathless suspense. They were straining their eyes to identify them, but the distance made it impossible. "I cannot tell who they are," declared White Otter. "Can you tell about it?" "No; they are too far away," Sun Bird told him. "Perhaps they will come closer." "I believe they are talking about it," said White Otter. At that moment the horsemen turned their ponies, and galloped off toward the west. They crossed the ravine, and rode toward the grove. They passed it, however, and continued toward the ridge farther to the westward. It was not long before, they disappeared. "It is bad," declared White Otter. "Now we do not know who they are." "Well, we know that our enemies are in this place," Sun Bird told him. "Now it will be useless to look for the buffaloes. If Ta-tan-ka comes, those scouts will tell their people about it. Yes, I believe they are looking for buffaloes." "My brother, I feel different about it," said White Otter. "Perhaps those scouts are with a war party. Perhaps they are Pawnees. Perhaps they are going to fight my people. I must find out about it." Sun Bird remained silent. It was not the part of a warrior to ask questions. He waited for White Otter to explain his plans. "Now I will tell you what I propose to do," White Otter told him. "We must stay here and watch. Perhaps those scouts are trying to fool us. Perhaps they are trying to make us believe they have gone away. I believe they are peeping over that hill." "Well, they will not catch us," laughed Sun Bird. While White Otter continued to watch, Sun Bird crept down the slope to tell Little Raven about the two mysterious horsemen. The ridge to the westward was far away, and White Otter knew that it would be impossible to discover any one who might be hiding there. He had little doubt that at least one of the unknown riders had stopped to watch the plain. "Did you see anything?" Sun Bird inquired anxiously, when he returned. "No, I did not see anything, but I believe some one is watching over there on that hill," White Otter told him. "Then we must be cautious," said Sun Bird. They watched until the day was half gone, and then, having seen nothing to indicate that foes were loitering in the vicinity, they began to feel somewhat reassured. They wondered if the two horsemen might not have been stray hunters who had been led to the grove by the antelopes. Having found the fresh pony tracks, they might have feared to loiter in the locality. In spite of the possibility, however, the Sioux resolved to take no chances. "We will keep watching," declared White Otter. Soon afterward their patience was rewarded when they saw what appeared to be a cloud of dust or smoke rising behind the distant ridge. They watched it with great interest. For some time it puzzled them. It was faint and indistinct, and they wondered if it was dust raised by the hoofs of buffaloes or ponies. Then they noted that it seemed to rise intermittently in puffs, and continued in one particular spot. "So-ta, smoke," White Otter said, finally. "Yes, yes, it is smoke," agreed Sun Bird. "Those scouts are calling their people," declared White Otter. "I believe it is a war party." "We will see," said Sun Bird. In a short time the smoke faded from the sky. The Sioux felt sure that the signal had been seen by those for whom it was intended. They had little doubt that a company of horsemen were riding across the plain on the other side of the ridge. "It is bad," said White Otter. "Those scouts found pony tracks at the place where the trees grow. They followed them to that gully. They found them coming this way. Then they were afraid, and went to call their people. I believe they will try to find out about us." "Well, my brother, they are a long ways off," Sun Bird reminded him. "We can keep away from them." "We must stay here and watch," declared White Otter. "Perhaps it is a big war party of Pawnees. Perhaps they are going to fight my people. I believe something bad will come of it." "We will keep watching until we find out about it," Sun Bird assured him. As time passed and they saw nothing more, White Otter became uneasy. A disquieting possibility had suddenly presented itself to his mind. It filled him with distrust, and awakened fears for the safety of his people. "I do not like this thing," he told Sun Bird. "That ridge goes a long ways. We cannot see over it. Perhaps a war party is riding along behind that hill. Perhaps they are going to the lodges of my people. I would like to look over that hill, and find out about it." "You must not try to do that," Sun Bird cautioned him. "It would be foolish. I believe scouts are watching over there. If we show ourselves they will come after us." White Otter remained silent. He was worried and perplexed. He believed that what Sun Bird had said was true. Still he knew that if a war party of foes was moving against the Ogalala camp it was his duty to learn of it, and carry a warning to his people. For the moment, however, he saw no way of accomplishing it. The ridge from which he was watching was parallel with the ridge to the westward, and there was a wide expanse of open plain between them. To reach the other ridge it would be necessary to ride out in full sight of any foes who might be watching from concealment. White Otter realized that such a maneuver would be foolhardy. He decided that it would be impossible to do anything before nightfall. "Yes, my brother, I see that what you say is true," he said, finally. "The lodges of my people are three sun's travel away. It is a long ways. A war party travels slow so that the ponies will be fresh when the fight begins. There is only one thing to do. We must keep watching until it gets dark. Then we will ride over that hill, and try to find out about those people." "I believe it is the best thing to do," said Sun Bird. Late in the day, however, they saw something which convinced them that the two horsemen had been part of a clever stratagem to deceive any one who had been watching. An eagle suddenly appeared high over the plain, and flew toward the grove of cottonwoods. It was evident that the bird intended to alight in the timber. The Sioux watched closely. Once above the grove, the eagle set its wings and dropped toward the trees. Then, as it got nearer, it rose and circled far out over the plain. The Sioux were quick to understand the significance of the maneuver. "Hi, Hu-ya saw something down there among the trees," White Otter cried, excitedly. "Yes, I believe there is something over there in that place," said Sun Bird. "I believe scouts are hiding there," declared White Otter. "Hu-ya has told us about them. It is good." They watched the grove with new interest. They knew that Hu-ya, the great war bird, was not likely to be frightened by Ma-ya-sh, the prairie wolf, nor Ta-to-ka-dan, the antelope, nor even by great Ma-to-ho-ta, the bear. They felt quite certain, therefore, that Hu-ya had discovered other enemies in the grove. "Perhaps a war party is hiding over there," said Sun Bird. "Perhaps they found out about the ponies. Perhaps they sent those scouts to fool us." "I do not believe a war party is hiding in that place," White Otter told him. "A war party would go away while it was dark." "Yes, I believe that is true," agreed Sun Bird. The Sioux were perplexed. Although the actions of Hu-ya, the war bird, led them to believe that the grove concealed some of their foes, they were unable to guess why the latter had loitered in the timber. While they were trying to solve the mystery they saw another smoke signal rising behind the ridge. It appeared in the place where they had discovered the other signal. The smoke column was light and indistinct, and soon broke into intermittent puffs. In a few moments it ceased. "Now I know that some one is hiding over there where the trees grow," declared White Otter. "I believe they are scouts. I believe they found out about the ponies. It made them cautious. I believe those riders went to bring the war party. I believe, they will come to that place when it gets dark. We must watch out." "I believe they are Pawnees," said Sun Bird. "I do not know who they are, but I am going to find out about it," White Otter told him. CHAPTER III OLD ENEMIES They watched until the grove finally faded out in the twilight. Then they listened for sounds which might warn them of the arrival of a war party. It was barely dark when they heard signals passing across the plain. The cry of Ma-ya-sh sounded faintly from the west. It scarcely died away before an answer rose from the vicinity of the grove. "The war party is coming," said Sun Bird. "Listen!" cautioned White Otter. They listened closely. Many moments passed. The stillness was unbroken. "What was it?" inquired Sun Bird. "I heard something, far away," White Otter told him. "It sounded like a pony. I believe some one stopped the noise." As time passed and they heard nothing further, they felt sure that a company of foes had arrived at the grove. The thought made them uneasy. They feared that the two scouts would be sure to tell their companions about the pony tracks which crossed the ravine and led away toward the east. The Sioux recalled that the mysterious riders had spent some time looking toward the ridge. "Perhaps they know we are here," said Sun Bird. "Yes, I believe that is why they went away," replied White Otter. "I believe they went to tell their people about it. Their friends waited behind those trees to see if any one came over to this place." "Well, they did not see us," said Sun Bird. "No, they could not see us, but perhaps they know some one is watching them," White Otter told him. "Perhaps scouts will ride over here to find out about it. I believe scouts were close by when we were hiding over there in that gully. Now they will come to this hill. It would be foolish to stay here." "Well, my brother, what do you propose to do?" inquired Sun Bird. "I propose to find out about those people," replied White Otter. "How can you do that?" "Come, we will go to Little Raven," said White Otter. "Then I will tell you about it." They crossed back over the ridge, and found Little Raven waiting with the ponies. He said he had seen nothing but a stray antelope on that side of the ridge. "My brothers, you must listen sharp to what I am about to tell you," said White Otter. "I believe a war party is hiding over there where those trees grow. I do not know who it is. That is bad. Perhaps it is the Pawnees. The Pawnees are our enemies. Once they came to our village and did much harm. Perhaps they are going again to make war on my people. It is true that we came here to look for buffaloes. Well, we found something different. We are Dacotahs. We must find out who is over there. We must try to find out where they are going. Then we will know what to do. Perhaps we will do a big thing for my people." White Otter paused and waited for his companions to speak. Many moments passed before Sun Bird finally replied. "My brother, your words are good," he said. "You are a great war chief. You are the leader. Come, tell us what you propose to do." "My brothers, I am going over there where the trees grow to find out who is there," declared White Otter. "Now listen sharp. There is only one way to do this thing. I believe scouts will come to this place. If we cross over this hill and go straight ahead we will meet them. We must not do that. I will tell you what to do. That gully where we hid ourselves goes a long ways toward the lodges of my people. It is good. We will follow this ridge that way. When we get past those trees, we will cross this ridge and ride over to that gully. Those people will go the other way to look for us. They will follow the tracks of our ponies. When we get to that gully we will listen. If we do not hear anything, I will go ahead and creep up to those trees. Perhaps I will find out who is there." "You are very brave, but you must not go there alone," said Sun Bird. "You will be in great danger. I will go with you." "No, you must not do that," White Otter told him. "You must stay behind and help Little Raven with the ponies. Then if anything bad happens to me, perhaps you can help me. It is the best way to do. Come, my brothers, we will go away before those scouts come over here and find us." They rode northward along the base of the ridge. They went a long distance before White Otter finally turned toward the west. Then they rode to the top of the ridge, and stopped to listen. All was still. Darkness hid the grove. They knew that the ravine was directly ahead of them, and they advanced cautiously toward the west. "Perhaps the ponies will call," Little Raven suggested, uneasily. "We must be ready," White Otter cautioned him. They rode across the plain in silence, alert for the first warning of danger. They realized that at any moment they might encounter scouts moving cautiously through the night along the flank of an advancing war party. When they finally reached the ravine, the night was far gone. White Otter and Sun Bird immediately dismounted, and climbed to the top of the ravine. They looked anxiously in the direction of the grove. It was hidden far away in the darkness. They watched for the tell-tale glow of a fire, but had little hope of seeing it. "No, those people are not so foolish," declared White Otter. "Well, my brother, if there is no fire it will be hard to see who they are," Sun Bird told him. "Perhaps my ears will tell me that," replied White Otter. "I know the words of the Pawnees. I know the words of the Crows. I know the words of the Kiowas. I will get close to that place and listen sharp." "White Otter, I believe it would be foolish to go over there," said Sun Bird. "If you will listen to my words, I will tell you something better." "You are my brother, and you are a chief of the brave Minneconjoux--I will listen to your words," agreed White Otter. "It is good," declared Sun Bird. "Now I will tell you how I feel about this thing. We are in a good place. Those people cannot see us when it gets light. You say perhaps those people are Pawnees. It may be true. You say perhaps they are going to fight your people. It may be true. You say it makes you feel bad. You say we must find out about it. It is true. I will tell you the best thing to do. We will stay here until the light comes. Then we will watch close. If any one comes away from that place we will see them. If they travel toward the lodges of your people they will go by this place. Then we will follow them. We will get close and find out who they are. If they go the other way, we will let them ride away. My brother, I believe it is the best thing to do." White Otter kept silent. He was studying the plan of Sun Bird. The latter waited patiently for him to reply. It was some time before White Otter spoke. "Sun Bird, I have listened to your words, but I will not do as you propose," he said, finally. "You say if those people are going to the lodges of my people they will pass this place. Perhaps they have passed by here in the darkness. If we wait here until the light comes perhaps it will be too late to help my people. My brother, I must find out about it. I am going to do what I told you about." "Well, you are the leader," Sun Bird told him. "I will not talk any more against it." "It is good," replied White Otter. A few moments afterward he disappeared into the night. Choosing a star to guide him in the proper direction, he loped across the plain as easily and as silently as Ma-ya-sh, the wolf. Aware that there was a possibility of blundering into his foes, he stopped many times to listen. The great plain was steeped in silence. He believed that the strangers had remained in the grove. The thought somewhat relieved his anxiety for his people. He had little fear for himself. Having passed through many thrilling adventures, he had learned to look upon danger and death with the stolid indifference of the seasoned warrior. White Otter had gone a long distance from the ravine when he suddenly heard the long, dismal wail of a prairie wolf rising through the night. The cry had sounded somewhere near the ridge upon which the Sioux had passed the day. White Otter smiled as he realized that his prophecy about the scouts had been verified. "They did not find us," he murmured. As the call was not repeated, he continued toward the grove. He believed that the scouts were notifying their comrades that the country was free of foes. White Otter found keen satisfaction in the thought of outwitting them. He had little doubt that they were his hated foes, the Pawnees, and he felt certain that they were on a war expedition. As he approached the grove, White Otter slackened his pace and became as alert and cautious as To-ka-la, the little gray fox. He knew that if a war party had taken possession of the grove, sentinels had been stationed on the plain to watch for foes. "Now I must be cautious," he told himself. Soon afterward he saw the grim, black outlines of the grove directly ahead of him. It was a number of arrow flights away, however, and he stopped to listen. He heard nothing. Then he advanced. Slowly, cautiously, he moved through the darkness, listening and watching for the sentinels who he feared were close at hand. Then he heard a pony snort. He stopped and waited in breathless suspense. He decided that the sound had come from the grove. He advanced still more cautiously. When he finally came within bowshot of the trees, he suddenly realized his peril. Alone and on foot, he knew that once discovered there would be little chance of escape. Still he was unafraid. Familiarity with danger had given him confidence. "I will get away," he kept telling himself. Then he suddenly heard the murmur of voices. For an instant the sound alarmed him. He had approached nearer the grove than he had supposed. He sank noiselessly to the plain. He lay there some time, endeavoring to identify the speakers. It was hopeless. The voices were low and indistinct, and he could not distinguish the words. He realized that he must go nearer. He crept slowly forward, a bow length at a time. Then he stopped to listen. The voices had ceased. His heart beat wildly. An alarming possibility flashed through his mind. Had he been discovered? It seemed impossible. He banished the thought. The silence, however, made him suspicious. "Perhaps they are listening," he whispered. The silence continued. White Otter was perplexed. He was less than half a bowshot from the cottonwoods. He heard the leaves trembling. He moistened his finger, and found the direction of the breeze. It was stirring toward the grove. He felt relieved. It seemed less likely that he had been discovered. Still he was uneasy. The sudden hush alarmed him. "Yes, they must be listening," he declared. A moment afterward a pony whinnied. It seemed to be on the other side of the grove. It was answered by several ponies in the timber. Then some one called. The signal was low and guarded. A reply came from the grove. White Otter heard hoofbeats. Some one was riding toward the cottonwoods. White Otter listened in trying suspense. He heard many voices. He breathed easier. The mystery was explained. He suddenly realized that the scouts had returned. It was the sound of their approach that had hushed the speakers in the grove. "It is good," White Otter said, with great relief. He believed that as the scouts had failed to find evidence of foes, the company in the grove might grow bolder. The next few moments seemed to confirm his hopes. The strangers were talking with far less caution. Still he was unable to catch their words. "I must go nearer," he said. He crawled carefully toward the timber, stopping after each bow length to watch and listen. The sounds from the grove reassured him. The warriors were talking and laughing, and apparently had little fear of attack. The ponies, too, were making considerable noise. He heard them stamping, and grunting and shaking themselves. However, he felt quite certain that they were securely picketed. The sky was sprinkled with stars, and it was possible to see several bow lengths through the night, but White Otter knew that it would be impossible to penetrate the sinister black shadows which enveloped the grove. His ears alone might tell him what he wished to know. He was quite familiar with the words of the Pawnees, and the Crows, and had heard the dialect of the Kiowas, and he hoped to identify the strangers by their talk. It was a difficult and perilous undertaking, for White Otter knew that to be successful he must approach close up to the edge of the timber. The night was well advanced and he knew that there was little time to spare. The ravine was far away, and he realized that he would be compelled to exert himself to the utmost to reach it before daylight betrayed him to his foes. Once discovered on the open plain there would be little hope of escape. He determined to make his attempt without further delay. For a moment only he hesitated, while he turned his face toward the sky. "Wa-kan-tun-ka, make me strong to do this thing," he murmured. Then he began his perilous, stealthy advance toward the timber. The sounds convinced him that the strangers were assembled at the pool in the center of the grove. He feared, however, that sharp-eared sentinels might be lurking at the edge of the plain. Aware that the slightest sound might betray him, he sank close to the earth and crept forward as cautiously as a panther stalking its prey. It took many moments to go a bow length. He had stopped behind a dense cluster of bushes close to the edge of the timber, when he was startled by the sound of voices within several bow lengths of him. He believed he had encountered the sentinels. Scarcely daring to breathe, he pressed his body against the plain and listened. The words of the speakers came distinctly to his ears. He failed to recognize them. They were not the words of the Pawnees. They did not sound like the words of the Crows. The dialect seemed strange and unfamiliar. For some moments White Otter was confused. He wondered if his ears were deceiving him. Then he suddenly identified the peculiar accent. Several years before he had heard it in the Kiowa camp. The mystery was solved. The people in the grove were Kiowas. Having learned the identity of his foes, White Otter was equally eager to know if it was a war party or only a company of hunters. He saw little chance of gaining the information. Unable to see the warriors or to understand their words, there seemed no way to guess the intentions of the Kiowas. In the meantime the night was slipping by. Daylight was not far off. White Otter knew that it would be perilous to loiter. Nevertheless he waited, each moment hoping to hear something which might tell him whether the Kiowas were out for peace or war. At last he was rewarded. He heard sounds in the timber which convinced him that the Kiowas were dancing, and singing their war songs. The scouts at the edge of the grove had joined in the chant, and White Otter seized the opportunity to retreat. Raising himself from the ground, he crawled slowly backward until he had gone a bow length. Then he stopped to listen. The sounds still came from the grove, but he heard nothing from the sentinels. Their silence aroused his fears. Alarming possibilities suggested themselves. Were the Kiowa sentinels listening? Had he betrayed himself? He sank to the plain and waited. The moments seemed endless. The uncertainty tried his courage. He was tempted to spring to his feet, and dash wildly across the plain. He realized that the Kiowas would soon overtake him. Then he heard the sentinels talking and making their way into the grove. They had abandoned their vigil. His heart filled with joy. He had accomplished his mission. The way was open. He was free to go. The eastern sky was already turning gray when White Otter finally approached the spot where he had left Sun Bird and Little Raven. He stopped and imitated the bark of the little gray fox. Three times he gave the signal. Then he listened for an answer. A familiar voice sounded softly through the darkness. "The way is clear," said Sun Bird. A moment afterward White Otter joined him at the top of the ravine. They descended into the gully to join Little Raven. "Well, my brothers, I have found out about those people," White Otter told his companions. "They are Kiowas. I believe it is a war party." "How did you find out about it?" inquired Little Raven. "I went ahead until I got close to those trees," said White Otter. "Then I crawled up behind some bushes. Then I heard some one talking. I did not know the words. Pretty soon I found out about it. It sounded like the Kiowas. I waited a long time. Then I heard those people dancing and singing. Then I said: 'It is a war party.' That is all I know about it." "Well, pretty soon it will be light," Sun Bird told him. "Then we will find out what the Kiowas propose to do." "Yes, we must watch them until we know where they are going," said White Otter. CHAPTER IV TRAILING A WAR PARTY At daylight the Sioux peered anxiously toward the grove. It was some time before the little cluster of trees emerged from the shadows. At that moment the Kiowas appeared. "See, there are our enemies," said Sun Bird. "Watch sharp," White Otter cautioned him. Although the Kiowas were too far away to be counted, the Sioux saw at once that it was a large company. They felt sure it was a war party. The Kiowas had turned toward the north. White Otter watched them with considerable uneasiness. "It is bad," he said. "There are many warriors. They are riding toward the lodges of my people. We must follow them." "Yes, yes, we will follow them," declared Sun Bird. They watched closely as the Kiowas rode slowly across the plain. They were a long distance to the westward of the ravine, and were moving directly toward the north. As they drew nearer, the Sioux began to count them. There were sixty horsemen in the company. They made an imposing spectacle as they rode along in pairs. Even at the distance the Sioux noted that some of the warriors in the lead wore great war bonnets, and they knew that those men were chiefs and war leaders. Then several riders left the column and galloped away in advance of the company. "The scouts are going ahead to watch for enemies," said Sun Bird. "Hi, they are coming this way," cried White Otter. Two riders had turned toward the east, and were riding toward the ravine. They were some distance to the southward of the Sioux, but the latter were greatly alarmed. They felt quite certain that the crafty scouts would follow along the top of the ravine to make sure that it was free of foes. The Sioux were in despair. They feared that they had run into a trap. There seemed to be no way of escape. Discovery seemed certain. "They will find us!" cried Sun Bird. White Otter watched the horsemen in thoughtful silence. He was searching his brain for a way out of the predicament. The scouts had covered three-quarters of the distance to the ravine. Delay was perilous. Roused by the thought, White Otter suddenly determined to race away in full sight of his foes. "Come," he cried, as he scrambled wildly into the ravine. "The Kiowas are coming!" Sun Bird told Little Raven. "Jump on your ponies and follow me," shouted White Otter. They rode boldly out upon the plain, and turned toward the east. Glancing back they saw that the Kiowas had stopped at sight of them. The scouts made no effort to follow. "It is good," cried White Otter. "The Kiowas do not know what to do. We will fool them." Convinced that their foes had no intention of pursuing them, the Sioux slackened the speed of their ponies. Then, when they had gone a safe distance, they turned to watch the perplexed Kiowas. The latter were gathered in a close group, and appeared to be holding a council. "Well, we are far enough away, now we will wait here and see what those people propose to do," said White Otter. "Do you believe they know who we are?" Little Raven asked him. "No," replied White Otter. A moment afterward the Kiowas resumed their advance toward the north. The scouts had joined their comrades. White Otter was perplexed. He had expected the war party to turn in another direction. If the Kiowas really were bound for the Ogalala camp he believed they would attempt to conceal their intentions. The fact that they continued boldly on their way aroused his suspicions. "I do not know what to make of it," he told his companions. "If those people are going to my village, I believe they will turn around to fool us." "I do not believe they know who we are," said Sun Bird. "Perhaps they took us for Pawnees or Cheyennes. Perhaps they do not believe we will follow them." "Yes, yes, I see that what you say is true," White Otter replied, hopefully. "They do not know who we are. I believe they take us for Cheyenne hunters. It is good. If they keep going ahead, we will circle around and get ahead of them. Then we will go to tell my people. When the Kiowas come to fight us, we will be waiting for them." The Kiowas had urged their ponies into a canter. The scouts were riding toward the ravine. The Sioux watched curiously. They wondered if the Kiowas intended to ignore them. "It is mysterious," White Otter declared, suspiciously. "My brothers, I believe those people are trying to fool us. We must be sharp." The scouts turned and rode along the top of the ravine, and the war party continued toward the north. Sun Bird and Little Raven waited for White Otter to announce his plans. The latter, however, remained silent. He seemed bewildered by the unusual behavior of the Kiowas. He was watching the two scouts. They glanced back at frequent intervals to make sure that the Sioux were not following them. Otherwise they showed little interest. "It is mysterious," White Otter said, again. "I do not know what to make of it. Come, Sun Bird, tell me how you feel about it." "The Kiowas are going toward your village--it looks bad," Sun Bird told him. "We must follow them," said White Otter. "Come, we will try to fool them." He rode away toward the east. The two Minneconjoux asked no questions. They looked upon him as the leader, and they were content to rely upon his
{'title': 'Three Sioux Scouts by Elmer Russell Gregor', 'source': 'Project Gutenberg', 'lang': 'en'}