Hugh Pendexter

“ The Oglala leader, crouching behind the burial lodge, began:
“There is another white man with you. Is he tired of life because his people have spoiled the hunting-ground of the Dakota?”
Old Misery suddenly thrust his revolver through a loop-hole and fired, breaking the arm of an Indian who was about to tree himself close to the logs. The wounded brave remained behind the tree, giving no sign of being hurt. Leaping across the lodge, the mountain man sounded his war-cry and taunted:
“Red Cloud talked to keep the old man from using his eyes. ”

“ Now here we be, two mountain men. Every sky-line is free to us. Let folks stew in towns back East and on the coast. Let 'em rob 'n' cheat 'n' die. We don't have any more truck with such doings than a eagle does. We're free to come and go. No one can tell us where and when to go. We take what we want. We live in a country the Almighty made. Made for us to live in and not for men to shovel into cricks and cover with wooden lodges. We don't need money.”
There was something in this speech that impressed Gilbert as portraying a magnificent freedom. ”

“ The mountain man shouted:
“Don't feel skittish. They're good folks.”
As he drew nearer he explained:
“Shoshoni. Friends of mine. Carrying a pipe against some Utahs. Thought our smoke was made by their enemies.”
But Gilbert did feel “skittish.” The Shoshoni looked very savage in their paint. Some were armed with old rifles, some had sword-blades fastened to long poles for lances. Every man carried a bow and a quiver of war arrows; and around the neck of each hung a small round shield.
Old Misery made them a feast of coffee and sugar, luxuries they were inordinately fond of. ”

“ Before him extended the gently undulating country sloping to the east, with the Medicine Bow Mountains in the background. Old Misery pointed to the range and said the Platte flowed along its base.
“Now don't it make you feel sorter proud to know you've stood where the big rivers git their start?” anxiously asked Old Misery.
“At first. But I can't help remembering that I can never follow them east,” sadly replied Gilbert.
“Satan and sin! A mountain man don't want to foller 'em east. Fort Laramie is far 'nough east for us to foller any river,” impatiently cried the mountain man. ”

“ He has no medicine from Tunkan. The Stone Spirit does not give medicine to white men.”
“The rock-medicine is in my medicine-bag. Makhpia-sha is a brave man. Let him come to me alone and look at it.”
“It is a lie. If the white men come out they will not be hurt. If they do not come out my men will set fire to the logs and roast them. If taken alive they shall be skinned alive.”
Gilbert fired a second shot; then shifted his position and wasted another.
Old Misery laughed derisively, and reminded Red Cloud:
“When this fort burns, Makhpia-sha, then the burial lodge you are hiding behind burns. ”

“ At first Gilbert had been watchful for Indians, but in time became indifferent to them as a menace.
From the first day out of the outlaws' valley Old Misery had commenced his tutelage, only his companion did not realize it. Liberally supplied with ammunition, the mountain man contrived for his pupil to shoot much of the meat they ate, and initiated him into the various ruses of the hunter. To educate a greenhorn somewhere near to a mountain man's standards is a hard task. Only a great liking for the Vermonter held Misery to the work. ”

“ The gun discharged, the bullet harmlessly plowing into the logs above the prostrate horses. As the man yanked the gun back Gilbert fired his rifle through the opening. He was too excited to hear the sound of a heavy body falling. But Old Misery heard it, and he leaped across the enclosure, pushed the young man aside and was in time to see the dead brave being dragged to cover.
“Satan and sin! You counted a coup!” roared the mountain man. “You'll wear a war-bonnet yet! Make you a prime mountain man? ”

“ Old Misery glanced out on four sides of the lodge to make sure no braves were creeping close under cover of the dialogue, and then answered:
“A man who forgets he was born white. A man who has a rock-medicine sent him by Tunkan. He is a very brave man and has counted many coups.”
“Come out where we can talk with you and smoke.”
“Stand out where I can see you.”
“Makhpia-sha sends his voice. It is enough. Come out here, white man.”
“The white man is an old man. He hunted at the Forks of the Platte where Red Cloud was born, long before Red Cloud was born. Life is a pair of old moccasins to him. ”

“ Gilbert's gaze, quickened by experience, discovered it—a dot. It was emerging from the pass, and was followed by another and another, until a score had strung into view. A short distance on their right was a clean, open grove of pine, marking the course of a branch of Rattlesnake Creek.
“Are they Indians?” whispered Gilbert.
“Yep. Fetching us a fight,” quietly replied the mountain man. “Mebbe they'll think the risk is too much for what little they can git.” ”

“ His medicine never lies,” sorrowfully continued Old Misery. “You've got guts; but they ain't mountain guts. You've lived too long in the East, where they believe in double-time. If I could 'a' caught you younger— Well, that's all ended.”
“You're wishing to go back alone? I don't blame you,” muttered Gilbert, trying to conceal the shock the mountain man's speech had given him.
“Ned's wagon-train will take you back East. Dragoons will go with it to Kearney.”
“You know I can never go back East. But that's no reason why I should be a drag on you. Maybe I can get work here at the fort. ”

“ Red Cloud knows he mustn't lose another man. Now let's drink some water.”
“If they don't get us to-day they will to-night.”
“They ain't going to git us alive any time,” cheerfully assured Old Misery. “If they come in the dark it'll be along toward sun-up. We may git a chance to sneak away afore then. May have to leave the hosses. You start moving round and peeking out. Don't stop more'n a second at any hole. I must talk with my medicine.”
Gilbert began spying on the outside world and saw nothing but two squirrels scampering madly down one tree to cross and ascend another. ”

“ Old Misery shook his head and reminded Gilbert:
“A man rode up, yelping like he had a big talk. They may 'a' left a few braves to take a shot at us when we show our noses, but my medicine says we won't have no more trouble from Red Cloud. Something the medicine tries to tell me I can't make out. We'll wait a bit.”
Half an hour passed and brought no new alarms. The horses shared the mule-pack between them. Gilbert was for throwing away a heavy buckskin bag, tied in the middle, that Misery had said contained lead. The mountain man insisted they might need it. ”

“ The leader was pleased to meet with an old acquaintance and shook hands with both white men and told his followers they were “good men.” The young men, however, eyed the two horses and their packs hungrily. Old Misery informed them that several war-bands of strange Indians were south and west of the Black Hills. The Cheyennes at once became nervous and anxiously asked what tribes were sending out war-bands. The mountain man repeated they were strange Indians, but he was sure one band was composed of Pawnees. ”

“ They can easily rush us and tear these logs apart.”
Old Misery grinned and agreed. “Easiest thing in the world. But they ain't done it. They've had two men killed and a couple wounded. That's bad for 'em. It's bad for Red Cloud, their leader. They planned to git us without losing a man. Now Red Cloud is madder'n an old buf'ler bull that's been driven out of the herd. But he's a Injun. He won't let his 'mad' git the best of his red mind. They'll talk it over and think up some new tricks. Mebbe they'll lose some more men, but they won't plan to. They won't rush us in daylight. ”

“ One of my Shoshoni friends back along that was trying to steal our hosses told me that the Pawnees just had a big fight with the Cheyennes, Kiowys 'n' Comanches, and killed some of their men. Now them three tribes is trying to git the Sioux to help 'em carry a pipe against the Pawnees. So you see it makes it mighty nice for us as we can slip through the pass and take a peep at Fort Laramie while them four tribes are busy smoking war-terbacker.
“You can't be a mountain man till you're a plains man. ”

“ Go to the fort? You're a mountain man. You can go anywhere you damn please. Come along. Folks round here don't know nor care nothin' 'bout any stranger. Soldiers have all they can do to look out for Injuns and git the hay down eight miles from up the river. We'll look at that train. Keep looking at 'em till you laff at the notion of ever wanting to foller one to the East. Mebbe some old cusses I know is with that train, hired to come along to help stand off the Injuns. We'll catch up with a west-bound train and take life easy. ”

“ I’d struck north to the immigrant road if Red Cloud hadn't gone that way. We'll have to dodge some hunting parties most likely. But I'm proud of you, younker. You're going to be a big mountain man.”
Had it not been for fear of roving Indians Gilbert would have enjoyed the next few days. They moved cautiously and each day traveled eight or ten miles before sunrise. One day when it rained they put in twelve hours of almost continuous walking. At each camp Old Misery would produce his medicine-rock and consult it, and each time vainly endeavored to understand what it was trying to tell him. ”

“ To Old Misery's great disappointment Bridger was away on the Fort Hall road and would not be back for several weeks. Gilbert learned that the fort occupied the neutral ground between the Shoshoni and Crows on the north, the Dakotas on the east, the Cheyennes on the southeast and the Utahs on the south. Here, also, the immigrant road from the East divided, one fork leading to Oregon by the way of Fort Hall on the Snake, the other extending for a hundred and twenty-five miles to Salt Lake City. ”

“ Gilbert, who had been keeping watch on the side where the wounded warrior was hiding, despairingly confessed:
“I’m useless. I can see nothing. Every time you look you see them.”
“Seen just one man,” chuckled Old Misery. “But they've surrounded us, and they think I’ve seen 'em when I shoot. Fire a couple of shots from the back side to keep ’em from sneaking up from the crick.”
He returned to the loop-hole, facing the burial lodge, ready to resume his conversation with Makhpia-sha, or Red Cloud. ”

“ But Frappe didn't move quick 'nough and was jumped by another big band. He was killed with eight of his people, but forty Injuns was wiped out.”
“Are the Indians as quick to attack now as they were then?” inquired Gilbert, endeavoring to conceal his anxiety.
“More so. Back in 'forty-one the first immigrant train went up the Platte to Oregon. Till then only some of us trappers had crossed the northern plains. But from 'forty-one on the Injuns began to understand there was lots of white folks in the world, and their eyes bunged out when they see the whites streaming across their hunting-grounds. ”

“ At last he urged his companion to halt.
“Just a trifle more travel,” cheerily replied the mountain man. “Three Injuns been follering us ever since we broke camp. Some of my Shoshoni friends. They hanker to git our guns and horses. Good people and all right, but they can't help stealing hosses 'n' guns any more'n white can help driving Chinamen 'n' greasers from a rich placer-claim, or Sailor Ben can help drinking whisky.”
He took the lead as they entered the Bitter Creek Valley and warned Gilbert to cease talking. ”

“ He has lived too long. He has seen too many white men come out here and spoil the hunting and trapping. Bring him a good fight, Makhpia-sha, so he can die happy and take some Oglala Tetons to hunt with him to the Land of Many Lodges,” was Misery's answer. ”

“ Wish I could live a million years and not have anything changed. Then I'd have time to hunt every crick 'n' buf'ler waller, every peak 'n' canon.”
After this talk, and largely because he was convinced of the futility of fighting against the inexorable, Gilbert did his best to pick up the ways of his companion. While they were camping in a wonderful bottom on the left bank of the north fork of the Platte he announced his desire to shoot buffalo from the saddle. Heretofore he had shot them only by stalking. He felt uplifted by the gigantic cottonwoods, towering sixty feet above their camp. ”

“ The interior of the lodge measured some eighteen feet in diameter and received its light through various loop holes five feet from the ground, and through an opening at the apex.
“Couldn't ask for a better spot!” endorsed the mountain man as he pushed a log aside at the back and picked up a canvas bucket and the camp-kettle.
“Must you go out?” asked Gilbert.
“Crick's close by. Nothing like a drink of water when you're choking on powder smoke.” ”

“ The traveling was easy as they were passing through an open, rolling country. Old Misery explained that the great abundance of game was due to the remoteness of the immigrant road. The buffalo were quite tame, the old bulls refusing to move. ”

“ Instead of one fort they found three, and the burned remains of a dozen more. All were built in the form of the ordinary skin lodge and, being constructed of logs stood on end, were bullet-proof. Old Misery dismounted and pulled back enough logs to permit Gilbert to lead the horses and mule inside. The mountain man closed the opening except for a hole large enough for him to crawl through. This he blocked with their saddles and the pack from the mule. ”

“ Red Cloud was taking his time to consider Misery's repeated boast of possessing a strong rock-medicine. Gilbert fired his rifle just as the famous leader began to talk, but as if not hearing it Red Cloud called out:
“The white man lies. ”