"Surely," said he, "you cannot find a more beautiful spot than this. The streams are full of fish, the grazing is good, the game is plentiful, and the weather is fine. What more could you desire?"

The Indian drew himself up. His face grew eager, and his eyes were full of longing as he answered, by the interpreter:

"The land to the north and west is the land of plenty. There the buffalo grows larger; and his coat is darker. There the bu-yu (antelope) comes in droves, while here there are but few. There the whole region is covered with the short, curly gra.s.s our ponies like. There grow the wild plums that are good for my people in summer and winter. There are the springs of the Great Medicine Man, Tel-ya-ki-y. To bathe in them gives new life; to drink them cures every bodily ill.

"In the mountains beyond the river of the blue water there is gold and silver, the metals that the white man loves. There lives the eagle, whose feathers the Indian must have to make his war-bonnet. There, too, the sun shines always.

"It is the Ijis (heaven) of the red man. My heart cries for it. The hearts of my people are not happy when away from the Eithity Tugala."

The Indian folded his arms across his breast, and his eyes looked yearningly toward the country whose delights he had so vividly pictured; then he turned and walked sorrowfully away. The white man's government shut him out from the possession of his earthly paradise. Will learned upon further inquiry that Eithity Tugala was the Indian name of the Big Horn Basin.

In the summer of 1882 Will's party of exploration left the cars at Cheyenne, and struck out from this point with horses and pack-mules.

Will's eyes becoming inflamed, he was obliged to bandage them, and turn the guidance of the party over to a man known as "Ready." For days he traveled in a blinded state, and though his eyes slowly bettered, he did not remove the bandage until the Big Horn Basin was reached. They had paused for the midday siesta, and Reddy inquired whether it would not be safe to uncover the afflicted eyes, adding that he thought Will "would enjoy looking around a bit."

Off came the bandage, and I shall quote Will's own words to describe the scene that met his delighted gaze:

"To my right stretched a towering range of snow-capped mountains, broken here and there into minarets, obelisks, and spires. Between me and this range of lofty peaks a long irregular line of stately cottonwoods told me a stream wound its way beneath. The rainbow-tinted carpet under me was formed of innumerable brilliant-hued wild flowers; it spread about me in every direction, and sloped gracefully to the stream. Game of every kind played on the turf, and bright-hued birds flitted over it.

It was a scene no mortal can satisfactorily describe. At such a moment a man, no matter what his creed, sees the hand of the mighty Maker of the universe majestically displayed in the beauty of nature; he becomes sensibly conscious, too, of his own littleness. I uttered no word for very awe; I looked upon one of nature's masterpieces.

"Instantly my heart went out to my sorrowful Arapahoe friend of 1875. He had not exaggerated; he had scarcely done the scene justice. He spoke of it as the Ijis, the heaven of the red man. I regarded it then, and still regard it, as the Mecca of all appreciative humanity."

To the west of the Big Horn Basin, Hart Mountain rises abruptly from the Shoshone River. It is covered with gra.s.sy slopes and deep ravines; perpendicular rocks of every hue rise in various places and are fringed with evergreens. Beyond this mountain, in the distance, towers the h.o.a.ry head of Table Mountain. Five miles to the southwest the mountains recede some distance from the river, and from its bank Castle Rock rises in solitary grandeur. As its name indicates, it has the appearance of a castle, with towers, turrets, bastions, and balconies.

Grand as is the western view, the chief beauty lies in the south. Here the Carter Mountain lies along the entire distance, and the gra.s.sy s.p.a.ces on its side furnish pasturage for the deer, antelope, and mountain sheep that abound in this favored region. Fine timber, too, grows on its rugged slopes; jagged, picturesque rock-forms are seen in all directions, and numerous cold springs send up their welcome nectar.

It is among the foothills nestling at the base of this mountain that Will has chosen the site of his future permanent residence. Here there are many little lakes, two of which are named Irma and Arta, in honor of his daughters. Here he owns a ranch of forty thousand acres, but the home proper will comprise a tract of four hundred and eighty acres. The two lakes referred to are in this tract, and near them Will proposes to erect a palatial residence. To him, as he has said, it is the Mecca of earth, and thither he hastens the moment he is free from duty and obligation. In that enchanted region he forgets for a little season the cares and responsibilities of life.

A curious legend is told of one of the lakes that lie on the border of this valley. It is small--half a mile long and a quarter wide--but its depth is fathomless. It is bordered and shadowed by tall and stately pines, quaking-asp and birch trees, and its waters are pure and ice-cold the year round. They are medicinal, too, and as yet almost unknown to white men. Will heard the legend of the lake from the lips of an old Cheyenne warrior.

"It was the custom of my tribe," said the Indian, "to a.s.semble around this lake once every month, at the hour of midnight, when the moon is at its full. Soon after midnight a canoe filled with the specters of departed Cheyenne warriors shot out from the eastern side of the lake and crossed rapidly to the western border; there it suddenly disappeared.

"Never a word or sound escaped from the specters in the canoe. They sat rigid and silent, and swiftly plied their oars. All attempts to get a word from them were in vain.

"So plainly were the canoe and its occupants seen that the features of the warriors were readily distinguished, and relatives and friends were recognized."

For years, according to the legend, the regular monthly trip was made, and always from the eastern to the western border of the lake. In 1876 it suddenly ceased, and the Indians were much alarmed. A party of them camped on the bank of the lake, and watchers were appointed for every night. It was fancied that the ghostly boatmen had changed the date of their excursion. But in three months there was no sign of canoe or canoeists, and this was regarded as an omen of evil.

At a council of the medicine men, chiefs, and wiseacres of the tribe it was decided that the canoeing trip had been a signal from the Great Spirit--the canoe had proceeded from east to west, the course always followed by the red man. The specters had been sent from the Happy Hunting-Grounds to indicate that the tribe should move farther west, and the sudden disappearance of the monthly signal was augured to mean the extinction of the race.

Once when Will was standing on the border of this lake a Sioux warrior came up to him. This man was unusually intelligent, and desired that his children should be educated. He sent his two sons to Carlisle, and himself took great pains to learn the white man's religious beliefs, though he still clung to his old savage customs and superst.i.tions. A short time before he talked with Will large companies of Indians had made pilgrimages to join one large conclave, for the purpose of celebrating the Messiah, or "Ghost Dance." Like all religious celebrations among savage people, it was accompanied by the grossest excesses and most revolting immoralities. As it was not known what serious happening these large gatherings might portend, the President, at the request of many people, sent troops to disperse the Indians. The Indians resisted, and blood was spilled, among the slain being the sons of the Indian who stood by the side of the haunted lake.

"It is written in the Great Book of the white man," said the old chief to Will, "that the Great Spirit--the Nan-tan-in-chor--is to come to him again on earth. The white men in the big villages go to their council-lodges (churches) and talk about the time of his coming. Some say one time, some say another, but they all know the time will come, for it is written in the Great Book. It is the great and good among the white men that go to these council-lodges, and those that do not go say, 'It is well; we believe as they believe; He will come.' It is written in the Great Book of the white man that all the human beings on earth are the children of the one Great Spirit. He provides and cares for them.

All he asks in return is that his children obey him, that they be good to one another, that they judge not one another, and that they do not kill or steal. Have I spoken truly the words of the white man's Book?"

Will bowed his head, somewhat surprised at the tone of the old chief's conversation. The other continued:

"The red man, too, has a Great Book. You have never seen it; no white man has ever seen it; it is hidden here." He pressed his hand against his heart. "The teachings of the two books are the same. What the Great Spirit says to the white man, the Nan-tan-in-chor says to the red man.

We, too, go to our council-lodges to talk of the second coming. We have our ceremony, as the white man has his. The white man is solemn, sorrowful; the red man is happy and glad. We dance and are joyful, and the white man sends soldiers to shoot us down. Does their Great Spirit tell them to do this?

"In the big city (Washington) where I have been, there is another big book (the Federal Const.i.tution), which says the white man shall not interfere with the religious liberty of another. And yet they come out to our country and kill us when we show our joy to Nan-tan-in-chor.

"We rejoice over his second coming; the white man mourns, but he sends his soldiers to kill us in our rejoicing. Bah! The white man is false. I return to my people, and to the customs and habits of my forefathers. I am an Indian!"

The old chief strode away with the dignity of a red Caesar, and Will, alone by the lake, reflected that every question has two sides to it.

The one the red man has held in the case of the commonwealth versus the Indian has ever been the tragic side.

CHAPTER XXVI. -- TOUR OF GREAT BRITAIN.

IT was not until the spring of 1883 that Will was able to put into execution his long-cherished plan--to present to the public an exhibition which should delineate in throbbing and realistic color, not only the wild life of America, but the actual history of the West, as it was lived for, fought for, died for, by Indians, pioneers, and soldiers.

The wigwam village; the Indian war-dance; the chant to the Great Spirit as it was sung over the plains; the rise and fall of the famous tribes; the "Forward, march!" of soldiers, and the building of frontier posts; the life of scouts and trappers; the hunt of the buffalo; the coming of the first settlers; their slow, perilous progress in the prairie schooners over the vast and desolate plains; the period of the Deadwood stage and the Pony Express; the making of homes in the face of fire and Indian ma.s.sacre; United States cavalry on the firing-line, "Death to the Sioux!"--these are the great historic pictures of the Wild West, stirring, genuine, heroic.

It was a magnificent plan on a magnificent scale, and it achieved instant success. The adventurous phases of Western life never fail to quicken the pulse of the East.

An exhibition which embodied so much of the historic and picturesque, which resurrected a whole half-century of dead and dying events, events the most thrilling and dramatic in American history, naturally stirred up the interest of the entire country. The actors, too, were historic characters--no weakling imitators, but men of sand and grit, who had lived every inch of the life they pictured.

The first presentation was given in May, 1883, at Omaha, Nebraska, the state Will had chosen for his home. Since then it has visited nearly every large city on the civilized globe, and has been viewed by countless thousands--men, women, and children of every nationality. It will long hold a place in history.

The "grand entrance" alone has never failed to chain the interest of the onlooker. The furious galloping of the Indian braves--Sioux, Arapahoe, Brule, and Cheyenne, all in war paint and feathers; the free dash of the Mexicans and cowboys, as they follow the Indians into line at break-neck speed; the black-bearded Cossacks of the Czar's light cavalry; the Riffian Arabs on their desert thoroughbreds; a cohort from the "Queen's Own" Lancers; troopers from the German Emperor's bodyguard; cha.s.seurs and cuira.s.siers from the crack cavalry regiments of European standing armies; detachments from the United States cavalry and artillery; South American gauchos; Cuban veterans; Porto Ricans; Hawaiians; again frontiersmen, rough riders, Texas rangers--all plunging with dash and spirit into the open, each company followed by its chieftain and its flag; forming into a solid square, tremulous with color; then a quicker note to the music; the galloping hoofs of another horse, the finest of them all, and "Buffalo Bill," riding with the wonderful ease and stately grace which only he who is "born to the saddle" can ever attain, enters under the flash of the lime-light, and sweeping off his sombrero, holds his head high, and with a ring of pride in his voice, advances before his great audience and exclaims:

"Ladies and gentlemen, permit me to introduce to you a congress of the rough riders of the world."

As a child I wept over his disregard of the larger sphere predicted by the soothsayer; as a woman, I rejoice that he was true to his own ideals, for he sits his horse with a natural grace much better suited to the saddle than to the Presidential chair.

From the very beginning the "Wild West" was an immense success.

Three years were spent in traveling over the United States; then Will conceived the idea of visiting England, and exhibiting to the mother race the wild side of the child's life. This plan entailed enormous expense, but it was carried out successfully.

Still true to the state of his adoption, Will chartered the steamer "State of Nebraska," and on March 31, 1886 a living freight from the picturesque New World began its voyage to the Old.

At Gravesend, England, the first sight to meet the eyes of the watchers on the steamer was a tug flying American colors. Three ringing cheers saluted the beautiful emblem, and the band on the tug responded with "The Star-Spangled Banner." Not to be outdone, the cowboy band on the "State of Nebraska" struck up "Yankee Doodle." The tug had been chartered by a company of Englishmen for the purpose of welcoming the novel American combination to British soil.

When the landing was made, the members of the Wild West company entered special coaches and were whirled toward London. Then even the stolidity of the Indians was not proof against sights so little resembling those to which they had been accustomed, and they showed their pleasure and appreciation by frequent repet.i.tion of the red man's characteristic grunt.

Major John M. Burke had made the needed arrangements for housing the big show, and preparations on a gigantic scale were rapidly pushed to please an impatient London public. More effort was made to produce spectacular effects in the London amphitheater than is possible where a merely temporary staging is erected for one day's exhibition. The arena was a third of a mile in circ.u.mference, and provided accommodation for forty thousand spectators. Here, as at Manchester, where another great amphitheater was erected in the fall, to serve as winter quarters, the artist's brush was called on to furnish illusions.

The English exhibited an eager interest in every feature of the exhibition--the Indian war-dances, the bucking broncho, speedily subjected by the valorous cowboy, and the stagecoach attacked by Indians and rescued by United States troops. The Indian village on the plains was also an object of dramatic interest to the English public. The artist had counterfeited the plains successfully.

It is the hour of dawn. Scattered about the plains are various wild animals. Within their tents the Indians are sleeping. Sunrise, and a friendly Indian tribe comes to visit the wakening warriors. A friendly dance is executed, at the close of which a courier rushes in to announce the approach of a hostile tribe. These follow almost at the courier's heels, and a sham battle occurs, which affords a good idea of the barbarity of Indian warfare. The victors celebrate their triumph with a wild war-dance.

A Puritan scene follows. The landing of the Pilgrims is shown, and the rescue of John Smith by Pocahontas. This affords opportunity for delineating many interesting Indian customs on festive celebrations, such as weddings and feast-days.

Again the prairie. A buffalo-lick is shown. The s.h.a.ggy monsters come down to drink, and in pursuit of them is "Buffalo Bill," mounted on his good horse "Charlie." He has been acting as guide for an emigrant party, which soon appears. Camp-fires are lighted, supper is eaten, and the camp sinks into slumber with the dwindling of the fires. Then comes a fine bit of stage illusion. A red glow is seen in the distance, faint at first, but slowly deepening and broadening. It creeps along the whole horizon, and the camp is awakened by the alarming intelligence that the prairie is on fire. The emigrants rush out, and heroically seek to fight back the rushing, roaring flames. Wild animals, driven by the flames, dash through the camp, and a stampede follows. This scene was extremely realistic.

A cyclone was also simulated, and a whole village blown out of existence.

The "Wild West" was received with enthusiasm, not only by the general public, but by royalty. Gladstone made a call upon Will, in company with the Marquis of Lorne, and in return a lunch was tendered to the "Grand Old Man" by the American visitors. In an after-dinner speech, the English statesman spoke in the warmest terms of America. He thanked Will for the good he was doing in presenting to the English public a picture of the wild life of the Western continent, which served to ill.u.s.trate the difficulties encountered by a sister nation in its onward march of civilization.