"My brother, you have done a great thing. You have heard many good words. What you have done makes me feel like a great chief. When I think about it my heart is very big. I cannot say any more. But you know how my heart is toward you," said Sun Bird.

"Yes, I have heard many good words," replied White Otter. "But I will tell you that the words of Sun Bird, my brother, are the sweetest to my ears."

CHAPTER IX

THE GREAT BUFFALO DRIVE

Early the following day the Sioux saw several of the scouts who had been sent to the ridges to watch for buffaloes racing wildly toward the Minneconjoux village. It was evident that they had news of great importance, and the people became much excited. Rain Crow was out on the plain continuing his mysterious ceremony to bring the buffaloes. As the riders pa.s.sed they called to him, and he immediately rose and extended the sacred pipe toward the heavens. Then a joyous shout went up from the village, for the Minneconjoux knew that his appeal had been answered, the Great Mystery had listened to their prayers.

"The buffaloes have come! The buffaloes have come!" the scouts cried, eagerly, as they approached the lodges.

The cry was soon ringing through the camps, and all who heard it were thrown into wild transports of joy. Shouting and laughing, the delighted Sioux ran to make preparations for the great buffalo hunt, the most important event in their lives. The boys were sent to bring in the ponies, while the warriors hurried to the lodges to collect their weapons and decorate themselves for the occasion. The women were as busy as the men, for their task was to follow after the hunters to cut up and pack in the meat. Even the aged veterans who were too old to partic.i.p.ate hobbled about chuckling gleefully in antic.i.p.ation of the feasts which were now a.s.sured. It was indeed a time of general rejoicing, and the villages were in a noisy uproar.

The buffaloes had been discovered feeding on a vast rolling plain to the south, and the scouts declared that it would be easy to circle around behind the ridges and surround the herd.

"My people, you have heard about this thing," said Curly Horse. "The Great Mystery has listened to our words. Yes, he has taken pity on us.

He has sent the buffaloes. It is good. We will have plenty to eat. We will have plenty of hides for robes and moccasins. Now I will tell you what to do. You must get your best ponies, and go out there and kill some meat. I have finished."

Soon afterward the Minneconjoux and the Uncapapas united in a great hunting party which included every active warrior in both tribes. It was a n.o.ble a.s.semblage. As the great host of warriors galloped away the very earth seemed to tremble beneath the thundering hoofs of their ponies.

Only the old men and the women and children were left behind. They stood together at the edge of the camps watching the imposing cavalcade until it finally pa.s.sed from sight over a swell of the plain, and left a great yellow cloud of dust to roll back toward the deserted villages.

Curly Horse and Laughing Bird rode together at the head of the warriors.

Far in advance of them, however, was a company of picked scouts whose duty was to locate the buffaloes and reconnoiter the country over which the hunters would advance to surround the herd. On either flank of the hunting party rode the Dog Soldiers, whose task was to maintain order and system. These warriors were men of courage and wisdom, whose sound judgment and impartial justice qualified them to act as the guardians of peace and discipline in their respective tribes. Their insignia of office was a raven skin which they usually wore attached to their belts.

Their power was unquestioned, and at all times they commanded the respect and ready obedience of their comrades.

The Sioux cantered across the plain in high spirits. The return of the buffaloes a.s.sured them an abundance of meat for many days, and the thought filled them with enthusiasm. Light-hearted laughter, and s.n.a.t.c.hes of song, made it evident that the stern Dacotah warrior had thrown off his reserve and softened his heart to enjoy the gentler excitement of the chase.

White Otter rode with Sun Bird and Little Raven. He was mounted on a fiery little buckskin which he had captured from the Kiowas. His two companions rode the splendid hunting ponies with which he had presented them when they visited the Ogalala village the year previous. All three lads were eager and excited, for the hunt promised plenty of thrills.

The sun was some distance past the meridian when the Sioux finally came in sight of the buffaloes. Then the chiefs and the Dog Soldiers immediately held a council, while the hunting party waited behind a low ridge. When the plan of attack had finally been decided upon, the force was divided into three companies. Curly Horse took command of one, Laughing Bird of another, and Rain Crow of the third. The latter was told to hold his warriors behind the ridge until the chiefs and their followers had advanced along both flanks of the herd. Then at the proper signal the three companies of hunters were to charge forward and surround the buffaloes.

The young Ogalala and his two friends remained with Rain Crow. In this party were some of the most famous Minneconjoux hunters. White Otter was particularly pleased when he saw Kicking Bull, the warrior of whom Sun Bird had told him so many wonderful things.

"It is good. I see that Kicking Bull is here," said White Otter.

"If you watch him you may see something to talk about," replied Sun Bird.

"Look, my brothers, something has happened!" cried Little Raven.

The scouts who had been looking over the crest of the ridge were gesticulating excitedly, and calling to the hunters. They said that the buffaloes had discovered Curly Horse and his warriors, and were already fleeing across the plain.

"That is bad. But come, my brothers, we must go after them," shouted Rain Crow, as he raced his pony to the top of the ridge, and the others urged their horses after him.

Then the hunt began. As Rain Crow and his companions swept over the ridge they saw the buffaloes thundering away in a stifling smother of dust, pursued on both flanks by long lines of whooping hors.e.m.e.n. The latter were riding furiously in an endeavor to get far enough ahead to turn the animals at the front of the herd.

"Come, we must ride fast!" cried White Otter, as he galloped away from his friends.

Sun Bird and Little Raven raced after him, with the other riders close behind them. Yelling excitedly, the Sioux urged their ponies to top speed, and for the moment the hunt became a mad break-neck scramble across the rocky plain. A false step on the part of a pony meant severe injury or death for itself and its rider, but the nimble little beasts kept their feet and soon overtook the clumsy animals ahead of them. Once within arrow-range, Rain Crow and his warriors began a furious attack upon the rear of the herd, while Curly Horse and Laughing Bird closed in on them from the sides.

White Otter soon found that his confidence in the pony which he had taken from the Kiowas was well placed. He had no difficulty in keeping up with the fastest animals in the company, and he believed that the buckskin had still greater speed in reserve. When the buffaloes were overtaken, the Kiowa pony quickly proved that it was familiar with every detail of the exciting sport. It seemed to know exactly which animal the rider wished to attack. Having maneuvered to a favorable position, it would run beside the doomed buffalo until the tw.a.n.g of the bow-string gave warning that the fatal arrow had sped to its mark; then the clever little beast would instantly swerve aside to avoid the death lunge of the animal it had helped to kill.

"That is a very fast pony," said Sun Bird.

"Yes, I believe it belonged to a great buffalo hunter," replied White Otter.

Then the warriors began to ride recklessly into the herd, and the three lads became separated. White Otter saw Kicking Bull, and immediately turned to follow him. The famous Minneconjoux hunter was talking to his pony and laughing with boyish glee as he drove his arrows into the helpless buffaloes. As each of his victims fell to the plain he dismounted beside it and recovered his arrow. Then he leaped upon his pony and raced after the retreating herd.

The Sioux had already killed many buffaloes, and the plain was dotted with carca.s.ses. Some of the warriors had deserted the main hunt to run down the wounded animals that had been left behind in the wild stampede.

At the same time the hors.e.m.e.n on both flanks, having failed in their efforts to turn the leaders, were breaking into the herd and killing as many animals as possible before the buffaloes ran too far from the camps.

Having followed Kicking Bull some distance into the herd, White Otter found himself in close quarters. The buffaloes had crowded so closely together that there was danger of the pony and its rider being crushed to death in the jam. It was not a new experience for the young Ogalala, however, for he had pa.s.sed through a somewhat similar trial once before.

Although he was fully alive to his peril, he had little fear. He believed that the Kiowa pony had learned to care for itself in just such an emergency. The thought gave him confidence, and he began to shoot his arrows at the animals behind him in the hope of opening an avenue of escape.

Then he saw Kicking Bull a short distance ahead of him. It was evident that the noted hunter was in a similar predicament, and White Otter watched anxiously to learn how he would extricate himself. He saw two huge bulls crowding the Minneconjoux pony between them, and it looked as if both horse and rider were doomed to instant destruction. For a moment or two the active little beast kept on its feet, and then it stumbled and disappeared beneath the great brown avalanche of frenzied buffaloes.

As the unfortunate pony went to its death, however, Kicking Bull grasped the coa.r.s.e s.h.a.ggy mane of the nearest bull, and succeeded in drawing himself upon its back. It was all done so quickly that White Otter could scarcely believe his eyes. However, when the daring hunter turned and shook his bow at him, the young Ogalala realized that what he saw actually had happened.

Having escaped death by the slightest margin, Kicking Bull was still in a desperate predicament. The great beast upon which he had taken temporary refuge was making frantic efforts to dislodge him, and he was in imminent danger of losing his grip and falling from its back. To make matters worse, the buffaloes on either side were crowding so closely that the bull was liable to stumble and share the fate of the missing pony.

In the meantime White Otter was making an heroic attempt to reach his tribesman. He realized that if he could ride his pony up beside Kicking Bull he might be able to carry him safely from the herd. He knew that it was a desperate undertaking which might end in bringing both of them to a sudden death, but he was willing to risk his life in the attempt.

Strive as he might, however, he was unable to clear a way for his pony, and as he knew that it would be fatal to kill the buffaloes directly in front of him he saw little chance of rendering aid to the unfortunate Minneconjoux. His heart filled with dismay as he realized his utter helplessness to save the famous hunter whose daring career was about to come to a tragic end.

The buffaloes were crowding closer together each moment, and White Otter suddenly realized that unless he found a way to escape from the jam he, too, was sure to suffer a similar fate. He again turned his attention to the animals behind him, and when he had opened a gap he slackened the speed of his pony, hoping that the buffaloes might run past him. It was an old trick of the Sioux hunters, and one which the young Ogalala had already used successfully. However, as he thought of abandoning the brave man who was still clinging to the back of the great bull, all his instincts rebelled. Although he knew that for the moment he was powerless to help him, still the loyal lad believed that the opportunity might present itself at any moment. Therefore, he determined to forfeit his own chance in the hope of saving his tribesman.

A few moments afterward the animals ahead of him separated, and White Otter forced his pony into the gap. At that instant Kicking Bull turned his head and saw that the courageous lad was attempting to help him.

Fully aware of the peril, the gallant Minneconjoux waved his hand toward the rear of the herd, as a signal for White Otter to attempt to save himself by that avenue of escape. The latter shook his head, and made it plain that he was determined to remain where he was while there was a possibility of rendering aid.

Realizing that each moment of delay only lessened the chance of escape for both of them, White Otter again attempted to open a way to the Minneconjoux hunter. Laying vigorously about him with his heavy riding quirt he succeeded in crowding several more animals from his path, and advancing considerably closer to Kicking Bull. They were now sufficiently near to call to each other, and the Minneconjoux turned his head and addressed White Otter.

"I see what you are trying to do," he said. "You are very brave. You cannot do this thing. No, if you stay here you may be killed. Perhaps I will not come out of this. But I am not afraid. See how the buffaloes crowd against my legs. Pull back your pony, and keep your life. You are a young man. I have told you the best thing to do."

"I am a Dacotah," cried White Otter. "I have closed my ears to your words. I will stay here until something happens. Perhaps I will find a way to help you."

Roused by the possibility, White Otter redoubled his efforts, and crowded forward until he was on a line with Kicking Bull. There were a number of animals between them, however, and they were so close together that it was impossible to separate them. It looked, therefore, as if his gallant attempt at rescue had been made in vain. Instead of being able to save his tribesman, it began to look as though White Otter was doomed to share the same tragic fate. As he peered anxiously through the blinding smother of dust he saw that he was entirely closed in, and he had slight hope of opening a path through the closely packed ranks of panic-stricken beasts that imprisoned him.

Then he heard a warning shout from Kicking Bull. A moment later the daring Minneconjoux made known his intention of reaching him over the backs of the intervening buffaloes. For a moment White Otter was dazed by the very boldness of the plan. It seemed like the wild whim of a madman, and he wondered whether Kicking Bull had actually lost his senses. As soon as he had recovered from his astonishment, therefore, White Otter called out to warn his tribesman against attempting something which he felt sure would end in certain death.

"No, it is the only thing to do," declared Kicking Bull. "I will do this thing. Now I am getting ready. You must watch me. Then you will know how to save yourself from the buffaloes. Now I am going to start."

Before White Otter could offer further remonstrance, the Minneconjoux slung his weapons across his back and prepared to make the desperate attempt at escape. Seizing the long hair which covered the shoulders of the great bull, Kicking Bull rose to his knees. He balanced himself in that position a moment or two, while his flashing eyes studied the dusty backs of the buffaloes between him and White Otter. Then, having decided what to do, he rose to his feet, still clinging to the coa.r.s.e mane of the infuriated beast beneath him. For an instant he hesitated, while he caught his balance. Then, as White Otter called a warning, the Minneconjoux relaxed his hold, and half straightened. The next instant he stepped lightly to the back of the next buffalo, steadied himself a moment, and then sprang to the one beyond, and then moved quickly from one to another until he dropped upon the animal beside White Otter. The marvelous exploit was performed so quickly, and so skillfully, that the astounded young Ogalala scarcely realized what had happened.

"Now you have seen something to tell about," laughed Kicking Bull, as he threw his arm about White Otter and drew himself upon the pony.

When White Otter realized that Kicking Bull had actually reached him he was overwhelmed with joy. He felt repaid for having risked his life, and he determined to make a desperate attempt to escape from the herd. The Kiowa pony seemed unmindful of its double burden, and despite the odds against it, the young Ogalala believed that it would eventually carry them to safety. The buffaloes had run a considerable distance since the beginning of the hunt, and most of the Sioux had already abandoned the chase and turned back to claim a share of the spoils. It seemed, therefore, that the panting beasts would soon slacken their pace, and White Otter believed the safest plan would be to continue with the herd until the tired buffaloes finally slowed down sufficiently to allow the pony to escape from their midst. Kicking Bull destroyed his hope, however, by warning him that not far ahead was a rocky stretch of plain which would cause sad havoc if the buffaloes attempted to race over it.