The Indian War which broke over the summery plains and valleys of Minnesota on Monday morning, August 18, 1862, swept over a large section of the State with the rush and fury of a long-brewing storm.
For several years the Sioux had been gathering2 a store of hatred3 and desire of revenge for real and fancied wrongs. On Sunday, the 17th of August, a few young Indians in an accidental quarrel with some farmers in Meeker4 county killed some cattle and murdered several whites. Under ordinary conditions this would have ended in the surrender and punishment of the criminals, but now it was the signal for three thousand Sioux warriors5 to rush into a carnival6 of murder and rapine, which swept over the frontier settlement as a tornado7 rushes through the forest.
At daybreak on the 18th, Black Buffalo8 knocked on the cabin of Trapper Barker.
“Get up, my friend,” he called, “the war has begun. You must flee, or you will be murdered.
“I have just learned that Chief Little Crow has told the warriors to kill all white people they can find, and the warriors have started in large and small parties in all directions. Some people at the Lower Agency, near the big Indian camp, have already been killed. Make haste, Mehunka, or you will be killed.”
“Do all the Indians want the war?” asked Barker, as he hurriedly dressed himself for flight.
“No,” said Black Buffalo. “Many of us, Little Paul, John Other Day, myself, and many others think this war is foolish and will only bring tears and mourning to our women and children, and ruin to our whole people, but we are powerless to stop the madness of Little Crow and the young men.”
“I have an extra saddle-horse,” said Barker as he was ready to mount. “We must warn Bill and Tim.”
“You are right, Mehunka; I have brought an extra horse. The white boys should come with us, if they are willing.”
“They must come with us!” exclaimed Barker, “whether they will or not.”
“Perhaps the lanky9 white man will not let them,” Black Buffalo suggested. “He wishes to keep the boys here. I do not know why. He would not mourn if harm came to them. He does not love them.”
“Lanky Hicks be cursed!” Barker exclaimed in Sioux. “I shall point my rifle at his head, if he refuses to let them go; he should have taken them home long ago.”
Bill and Tim were just eating their simple breakfast of wild rice and maple10 syrup11 when they saw two horsemen coming at a gallop12.
“Look, Bill,” cried Tim, “here comes Mr. Barker and Tatanka! Hurrah13! We’ll go and hunt ducks on the slough14 to-day. It’s so long since they have visited us.”
But when Barker hastily jumped off his horse and entered the cabin before the lads could cry, “Come in,” to his knock, they knew that their two friends had not come to invite them to go hunting.
“Good morning, my lads,” Barker greeted them. “Where is Cousin Hicks?”
“We don’t know,” answered Bill. “We haven’t seen him since Friday.”
“Put on your hoots15, roll up your coats and blankets, and come along,” the trapper continued. “The Sioux have gone to war and are killing16 the people all around. You must not lose a minute; a bunch of them may show up almost any moment.”
When all were ready to mount, Tim asked, “What about Cousin Hicks? Will the warriors get him?”
Bill thought he saw a flash of anger in the dark eyes of Tatanka at the mention of Cousin Hicks, and the Indian said something in Sioux which the boys did not understand.
But the trapper laughed and remarked:
“I thought you were a Christian17, Tatanka?”
“I am,” replied Black Buffalo in Sioux, “but not when I see that man.”
If the boys had not implicitly18 believed Barker and Tatanka, they would have thought their story some crude joke, for as they started their horses at an easy gait, they saw no sign of war or Sioux warriors. The dew still lay heavy on the tall grass in the swales, while many kinds of butterflies, white, yellow, blue, and tawny19 red, were sipping20 their morning draught21 of honey from goldenrods and wild sunflowers, and from the fragrant22 milkweeds and purple lead-plants.
Now and then, a meadow-lark warbled its cheerful song from a knoll23 or rock, while the little striped gophers chased each other or sat like horse-pins in front of their holes and scolded vociferously24 at the passing riders.
“What are they saying?” Tim asked of the trapper.
“They are talking bad talk at Meetcha, your raccoon,” Barker replied, with a smile. “You let Meetcha catch one. Manetcha is a brave animal near his hole.”
Tim let Meetcha try it, but every time he came within a few feet of a chattering25, scolding gopher, the little striped creature turned a somersault and shot into his hole.
“Take him up, Tim,” said the trapper after a few minutes; “we have not much time to hunt gophers.”
They now started their horses at a run for the two nearest settlers and gave them the warning.
“Get away as quick as you can. Don’t follow the road to Fort Ridgely or New Ulm, or you’ll be ambushed26 there in the timber. Keep a sharp lookout27 and hide in the grass or brush or corn, if you see Indians. Don’t trust any; they are all on the warpath now.”
Without waiting for the settlers to move, the four horsemen started at a brisk gallop for a third settler at the head of a wooded ravine.
“Keep away from the timber,” Tatanka cautioned them. “Indians like to hide when they fight.”
The riders approached the cabin carefully over the prairie. The door was standing28 open.
The boys still felt as if the whole story was a bad hoax29, but now the two men stopped their horses, examined the caps on their guns, and then Tatanka carefully crept up to the shanty30 through some scrub-oaks.
“What is Tatanka afraid of?” asked Tim.
“He is afraid,” Barker explained, “that some Indians have seen us and are hiding in the house or behind it.”
Now Tatanka appeared in front of the shanty and motioned the others to come. In the house everything was confusion. The table was turned over and the broken dishes were scattered31 and tumbled about on the floor. Every pane32 in the one small window was smashed and in the hazel-brush just behind the little home, Jim Humphrey, the owner, lay dead, his hands still gripping the handle of an ax.
“The brutes33 have taken Jim’s wife and daughter with them,” murmured Barker. “Boys,” he continued, “you stand watch while Tatanka and I cover poor Humphrey’s body with green twigs34 and earth. We dare not wait to do more.”
What had thus far seemed like a horrible dream to the boys, had now become a ghastly reality. They were face to face with the horrors of savage35 warfare36.
The next cabin, two miles northeast, was on fire and six men, three on horseback and three on a farm-wagon37, were coming toward them. The four fugitives38 halted. “What are they!” Barker asked.
“They are Indians,” Tatanka decided39 at once. “We must make a run for the clump40 of poplars north of us.”
In the center of the round clump of poplars and thick brush, they tied their horses.
“They can’t see them here,” Tatanka stated. “Now, we must lie down near the edge of the brush, but so that they cannot see us, and don’t waste your powder. We may have to stay here for a long time.”
The Indians had all turned off the road and were approaching the thicket41.
“Give them a shot, Bill,” said Barker. “They are only a quarter of a mile away. It’s going to be a fight for our lives.”
Two of the Indians returned Bill’s fire, but their balls or shot fell short.
“I think they have nothing but old trader guns. In that case, we may be able to beat them off,” remarked Barker.
The Indians took the team out of range. Then, three of them on horseback, and three on foot, they surrounded the grove42.
One of the Indians on foot waved his blanket and shouted:
“Come out, you white men, and fight. You are squaws, you are rabbits.”
The horsemen slowly rode around the copse, while it became evident that the other three were trying to crawl up through the grass to a small clump of hazel-brush.
“Keep cool, boys,” the trapper admonished43. “Don’t waste powder; hit your mark. Anybody can hit the prairie.”
“What do they want of us?” asked Tim, who had tied his coon to a tree. “We have nothing.”
“My lad,” laughed the trapper, “we have good horses and guns and four extra-fine scalps, and they want to play great heroes in camp to-night.”
Two hours passed without a shot being fired. The sun had grown hot, the heat-cats began to run up the south-facing hill, and Bill and Tim found this tedious waiting and watching the hardest kind of work they had ever done. Barker and Tatanka did not seem to mind it. They kept their eyes on the enemy but chatted and joked quietly in the most unconcerned manner, as if being besieged44 by Indians were a most ordinary thing to them.
“I don’t think they are a bit afraid,” said Bill.
“I’m not afraid,” Tim answered, “as long as the Indians don’t come into our bush. But I’m hungry and awfully45 thirsty.”
“I think I can find water,” said Bill. “I’m awfully thirsty, too. You watch my Indian a little while.”
In half an hour Bill came back. “Tim,” he reported, with joy, “go to the big poplar near the horses. I’ve dug a well there with my hands and knife. The water isn’t very good, but it will give you a drink.”
Tim went and told the men about Bill’s well, and both took turns to get a drink.
“Oh!” remarked Tatanka, with a grin, “Bill has found good water. He is a good Indian soldier.”
A little later, Tatanka crept rapidly forward to an outlying willow-bush where he quietly rose on his knees and fired. The bragging46 Indian jumped out of the grass and tried to run away, but he staggered and fell.
Then the Indian on the white horse came on a gallop to carry off the wounded man, but Tatanka fired again and the white horse fell dead, but the dismounted rider helped the wounded man to get out of range, before Tatanka could load and fire again.
While this had been going on, the two other mounted Indians had come racing47 along as if they would run straight into the copse, and both Tim and Barker fired at them. The trapper’s mark reared and plunged48 for the open prairie, and the other rider also threw his pony49 around, for Tim’s bullet had gone singing close over his head. When they had run some hundred yards, both Indians turned and fired, but as the defenders50 had kept well under cover, the balls flew wild among the thick poplars.
Indian warriors have seldom held out long against men who made a brave stand. When the Sioux saw that they were getting the worse of the fight, they all withdrew to the wagon and started westward51.
Tatanka now ran out into the open, waved his blanket and shouted, “You are squaws. You are gophers. Run to your holes.”
Then turning to Barker, he said, “Come, brother, we scare them.”
Before the boys knew what Tatanka meant, the two men were racing after the Indians as fast as the horses could go.
When the Indians saw them coming, they whipped their horses into a gallop and disappeared over a rise on the prairie.
Barker and Tatanka did not follow their routed enemies over the rise, but returned at once to their poplar fort.
After the four defenders had taken a drink out of Bill’s well, they all sat down in the shade on the edge of the thicket where the poplar leaves rustled52 pleasantly in the summer breeze.
“Now, friends,” the trapper said, “it is time for a little lunch. Here is a piece of cornbread left over from my breakfast. It isn’t much, but we all get a bite. In the meantime, keep your eyes on the prairie and look out for Indian heads.”
“I think we should stay here until dark,” Tatanka suggested, “and then start for Shakopee or Fort Snelling. Indians do not fight during the night. The sky is going to be clear and we can travel by the stars. It is very dangerous to travel in daylight.”
“You are right, my friend,” the trapper replied, “but I am almost afraid to stay here. Our enemies may come back with more men to drive us out, or larger bodies of Indians may accidentally find us. Our horses have no water and we cannot leave the thicket if we are surrounded. I think we should find a better place, even if it is dangerous to travel by daylight.”
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brewing
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| n. 酿造, 一次酿造的量 动词brew的现在分词形式 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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meeker
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| adj.温顺的，驯服的( meek的比较级 ) | |
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warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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carnival
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| n.嘉年华会，狂欢，狂欢节，巡回表演 | |
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tornado
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| n.飓风，龙卷风 | |
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buffalo
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| n.(北美)野牛；(亚洲)水牛 | |
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lanky
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| adj.瘦长的 | |
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maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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syrup
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| n.糖浆，糖水 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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hurrah
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| int.好哇，万岁，乌拉 | |
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slough
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| v.蜕皮，脱落，抛弃 | |
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15
hoots
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| 咄，啐 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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implicitly
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| adv. 含蓄地, 暗中地, 毫不保留地 | |
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tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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knoll
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| n.小山，小丘 | |
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vociferously
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| adv.喊叫地，吵闹地 | |
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chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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ambushed
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| v.埋伏( ambush的过去式和过去分词 )；埋伏着 | |
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lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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hoax
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| v.欺骗，哄骗，愚弄；n.愚弄人，恶作剧 | |
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shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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pane
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| n.窗格玻璃，长方块 | |
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brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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43
admonished
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| v.劝告( admonish的过去式和过去分词 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
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besieged
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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46
bragging
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| v.自夸，吹嘘( brag的现在分词 )；大话 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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48
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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49
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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50
defenders
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| n.防御者( defender的名词复数 )；守卫者；保护者；辩护者 | |
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51
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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52
rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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