It was thirty minutes before a June sundown at the post, and the first call had sounded for parade. Over in the barracks the two companies and the single troop lounged a moment longer, then laid their police literature down, and lifted their stocking feet from the beds to get ready. In the officers' quarters the captain rose regretfully from after-dinner digestion2, and the three lieutenants4 sought their helmets with a sigh. Lieutenant3 Balwin had been dining an unconventional and impressive guest at the mess, and he now interrupted the anecdote5 which the guest was achieving with frontier deliberation.
“Make yourself comfortable,” he said. “I'll have to hear the rest about the half-breed when I get back.”
“There ain't no more—yet. He got my cash with his private poker6 deck that onced, and I'm fixing for to get his'n.”
Second call sounded; the lines filed out and formed, the sergeant7 of the guard and two privates took their station by the flag, and when battalion8 was formed the commanding officer, towering steeple-stiff beneath his plumes9, received the adjutant's salute10, ordered him to his post, and began drill. At all this the unconventional guest looked on comfortably from Lieutenant Balwin's porch.
“I doubt if I could put up with that there discipline all the week,” he mused11. “Carry—arms! Present—Arms! I guess that's all I know of it.” The winking12 white line of gloves stirred his approval. “Pretty good that. Gosh, see the sun on them bayonets!”
The last note of retreat merged13 in the sonorous14 gun, and the flag shining in the light of evening slid down and rested upon the earth. The blue ranks marched to a single bugle15—the post was short of men and officers—and the captain, with the released lieutenants, again sought digestion and cigars. Balwin returned to his guest, and together they watched the day forsake16 the plain. Presently the guest rose to take his leave. He looked old enough to be the father of the young officer, but he was a civilian17, and the military man proceeded to give him excellent advice.
“Now don't get into trouble, Cutler.”
The slouch-shouldered scout18 rolled his quid gently, and smiled at his superior with indulgent regard.
“See here, Cutler, you have a highly unoccupied look about you this evening. I've been studying the customs of this population, and I've noted19 a fact or two.”
“Let 'em loose on me, sir.”
“Fact one: When any male inhabitant of Fort Laramie has a few spare moments, he hunts up a game of cards.”
“Well, sir, you've called the turn on me.”
“Fact two: At Fort Laramie a game of cards frequently ends in discussion.”
“Fact three: Mr. Calvin, in them discussions Jarvis Cutler has the last word. You put that in your census20 report alongside the other two.”
“Well, Cutler, if somebody's gun should happen to beat yours in an argument, I should have to hunt another wagon-master.”
“I'll not forget that. When was you expecting to pull out north?”
“Whenever the other companies get here. May be three days—may be three weeks.”
“Then I will have plenty time for a game to-night.”
With this slight dig of his civilian independence into the lieutenant's military ribs21, the scout walked away, his long, lugubrious22 frockcoat (worn in honor of the mess) occasionally flapping open in the breeze, and giving a view of a belt richly fluted23 with cartridges24, and the ivory handle of a pistol looking out of its holster. He got on his horse, crossed the flat, and struck out for the cabin of his sociable25 friends, Loomis and Kelley, on the hill. The open door and a light inside showed the company, and Cutler gave a grunt26, for sitting on the table was the half-breed, the winner of his unavenged dollars. He rode slower, in order to think, and arriving at the corral below the cabin, tied his horse to the stump27 of a cottonwood. A few steps towards the door, and he wheeled on a sudden thought, and under cover of the night did a crafty28 something which to the pony29 was altogether unaccountable. He unloosed both front and rear cinch of his saddle, so they hung entirely30 free in wide bands beneath the pony's belly31. He tested their slackness with his hand several times, stopping instantly when the more and more surprised pony turned his head to see what new thing in his experience might be going on, and, seeing, gave a delicate bounce with his hind-quarters.
“Never you mind, Duster,” muttered the scout. “Did you ever see a skunk32-trap? Oughts is for mush-rats, and number ones is mostly used for 'coons and 'possums, and I guess they'd do for a skunk. But you and we'll call this here trap a number two, Duster, for the skunk I'm after is a big one. All you've to do is to act natural.”
Cutler took the rope off the stump by which Duster had been tied securely, wound and strapped33 it to the tilted34 saddle, and instead of this former tether, made a weak knot in the reins35, and tossed them over the stump. He entered the cabin with a countenance36 sweeter than honey.
“Good-evening, boys,” he said. “Why, Toussaint, how do you do?”
The hand of Toussaint had made a slight, a very slight, movement towards his hip37, but at sight of Cutler's mellow38 smile resumed its clasp upon his knee.
“Golly, but you're gay-like this evening,” said Kelley.
“Blamed if I knowed he could look so frisky,” added Loomis.
“Sporting his onced-a-year coat,” Kelley pursued. “That ain't for our benefit, Joole.”
“No, we're not that high in society.” Both these cheerful waifs had drifted from the Atlantic coast westward39.
“Well, boys, I'm in big luck, I am. How's yourn nowadays, Toussaint?”
“Pretty good sometime. Sometime heap hell.” The voice of the half-breed came as near heartiness41 as its singularly false quality would allow, and as he smiled he watched Cutler with the inside of his eyes.
The scout watched nobody and nothing with great care, looked about him pleasantly, inquired for the whiskey, threw aside hat and gloves, sat down, leaning the chair back against the wall, and talked with artful candor42. “Them sprigs of lieutenants down there,” said he, “they're a surprising lot for learning virtue43 to a man. You take Balwin. Why, he ain't been out of the Academy only two years, and he's been telling me how card-playing ain't good for you. And what do you suppose he's been and offered Jarvis Cutler for a job? I'm to be wagon-master.” He paused, and the half-breed's attention to his next words increased. “Wagon-master, and good pay, too. Clean up to the Black Hills; and the troops'll move soon as ever them reinforcements come. Drinks on it, boys! Set 'em up, Joole Loomis. My contract's sealed with some of Uncle Sam's cash, and I'm going to play it right here. Hello! Somebody coming to join us? He's in a hurry.”
There was a sound of lashing44 straps45 and hoofs46 beating the ground, and Cutler looked out of the door. As he had calculated, the saddle had gradually turned with Duster's movements and set the pony bucking47.
“Stampeded!” said the scout, and swore the proper amount called for by such circumstances. “Some o' you boys help me stop the durned fool.”
Loomis and Kelley ran. Duster had jerked the prepared reins from the cottonwood, and was lurching down a small dry gulch49, with the saddle bouncing between his belly and the stones.
Cutler cast a backward eye at the cabin where Toussaint had stayed behind alone. “Head him off below, boys, and I'll head him off above,” the scout sang out. He left his companions, and quickly circled round behind the cabin, stumbling once heavily, and hurrying on, anxious lest the noise had reached the lurking51 half-breed. But the ivory-handled pistol, jostled from its holster, lay unheeded among the stones where he had stumbled. He advanced over the rough ground, came close to the logs, and craftily52 peered in at the small window in the back of the cabin. It was evident that he had not been heard. The sinister53 figure within still sat on the table, but was crouched54, listening like an animal to the shouts that were coming from a safe distance down in the gulch. Cutler, outside of the window, could not see the face of Toussaint, but he saw one long brown hand sliding up and down the man's leg, and its movement put him in mind of the tail of a cat. The hand stopped to pull out a pistol, into which fresh cartridges were slipped. Cutler had already done this same thing after dismounting, and he now felt confident that his weapon needed no further examination. He did not put his hand to his holster. The figure rose from the table, and crossed the room to a set of shelves in front of which hung a little yellow curtain. Behind it were cups, cans, bottles, a pistol, counters, red, white, and blue, and two fresh packs of cards, blue and pink, side by side. Seeing these, Toussaint drew a handkerchief from his pocket, and unwrapped two further packs, both blue; and at this Cutler's intent face grew into plain shape close to the window, but receded55 again into uncertain dimness. From down in the gulch came shouts that the runaway56 horse was captured. Toussaint listened, ran to the door, and quickly returning, put the blue pack from the shelf into his pocket, leaving in exchange one of his own. He hesitated about altering the position of the cards on the shelf, but Kelley and Loomis were unobservant young men, and the half-breed placed the pink cards on top of his blue ones. The little yellow curtain again hung innocently over the shelves, and Toussaint, pouring himself a drink of whiskey, faced round, and for the first time saw the window that had been behind his back. He was at it in an instant, wrenching57 its rusty58 pin, that did not give, but stuck motionless in the wood. Cursing, he turned and hurried out of the door and round the cabin. No one was there. Some hundred yards away the noiseless Cutler crawled farther among the thickets59 that filled the head of the gulch. Toussaint whipped out a match, and had it against his trousers to strike and look if there were footprints, when second thoughts warned him this might be seen, and was not worth risking suspicion over, since so many feet came and went by this cabin. He told himself no one could have been there to see him, and slowly returned inside, with a mind that fell a hair's breadth short of conviction.
The boys, coming up with the horse, met Cutler, who listened to how Duster had stood still as soon as he had kicked free of his saddle, making no objection to being caught. They suggested that he would not have broken loose had he been tied with a rope; and hearing this, Cutler bit off a piece of tobacco, and told them they were quite right: a horse should never be tied by his bridle60. For a savory61 moment the scout cuddled his secret, and turned it over like the tobacco lump under his tongue. Then he explained, and received serenely62 the amazement63 of Loomis and Kelley.
“When you kids have travelled this Western country awhile you'll keep your cards locked,” said he. “He's going to let us win first. You'll see, he'll play a poor game with the pink deck. Then, if we don't call for fresh cards, why, he'll call for 'em himself. But, just for the fun of the thing, if any of us loses steady, why, we'll call. Then, when he gets hold of his strippers, watch out. When he makes his big play, and is stretchin' for to rake the counters in, you grab 'em, Joole; for by then I'll have my gun on him, and if he makes any trouble we'll feed him to the coyotes. I expect that must have been it, boys,” he continued, in a new tone, as they came within possible ear-shot of the half-breed in the cabin. “A coyote come around him where he was tied. The fool horse has seen enough of 'em to git used to 'em, you'd think, but he don't. There; that'll hold him. I guess he'll have to pull the world along with him if he starts to run again.”
The lamp was placed on the window-shelf, and the four took seats, Cutler to the left of Toussaint, with Kelley opposite. The pink cards fell harmless, and for a while the game was a dull one to see. Holding a pair of kings, Cutler won a little from Toussaint, who remarked that luck must go with the money of Uncle Sam. After a few hands, the half-breed began to bet with ostentatious folly64, and, losing to one man and another, was joked upon the falling off of his game. In an hour's time his blue chips had been twice reinforced, and twice melted from the neat often-counted pile in which he arranged them; moreover, he had lost a horse from his string down on Chug Water.
“Lend me ten dollar,” he said to Cutler. “You rich man now.”
In the next few deals Kelley became poor. “I'm sick of this luck,” said he.
“Then change it, why don't you? Let's have a new deck.” And Loomis rose.
“Joole, you always are for something new,” said Cutler. “Now I'm doing pretty well with these pink cards. But I'm no hog65. Fetch on your fresh ones.”
The eyes of the half-breed swerved66 to the yellow curtain. He was by a French trapper from Canada out of a Sioux squaw, one of Red Cloud's sisters, and his heart beat hot with the evil of two races, and none of their good. He was at this moment irrationally68 angry with the men who had won from him through his own devices, and malice69 undisguised shone in his lean flat face. At sight of the blue cards falling in the first deal, silence came over the company, and from the distant parade-ground the bugle sounded the melancholy70 strain of taps. Faint, far, solemn, melodious71, the music travelled unhindered across the empty night.
“What you bet this game?” demanded Toussaint.
“I've heard 'em play that same music over a soldier's grave,” said Kelley.
“You goin' to bet?” Toussaint repeated.
Cutler pushed forward the two necessary white chips. No one's hand was high, and Loomis made a slight winning. The deal went its round several times, and once, when it was Toussaint's, Cutler suspected that special cards had been thrown to him by the half-breed as an experiment. He therefore played the gull73 to a nicety, betting gently upon his three kings; but when he stepped out boldly and bet the limit, it was not Toussaint but Kelley who held the higher hand, winning with three aces67. Why the coup74 should be held off longer puzzled the scout, unless it was that Toussaint was carefully testing the edges of his marked cards to see if he controlled them to a certainty. So Cutler played on calmly. Presently two aces came to him in Toussaint's deal, and he wondered how many more would be in his three-card draw. Very pretty! One only, and he lost to Loomis, who had drawn75 three, and held four kings. The hands were getting higher, they said. The game had “something to it now.” But Toussaint grumbled76, for his luck was bad all this year, he said. Cutler had now made sure that the aces and kings went where the half-breed wished, and could be slid undetected from the top or the middle or the bottom of the pack; but he had no test yet how far down the scale the marking went. At Toussaint's next deal Cutler judged the time had come, and at the second round of betting he knew it. The three white men played their parts, raising each other without pause, and again there was total silence in the cabin. Every face bent77 to the table, watching the turn repeat its circle with obstinate78 increase, until new chips and more new chips had been brought to keep on with, and the heap in the middle had mounted high in the hundreds, while in front of Toussaint lay his knife and a match-box—pledges of two more horses which he had staked. He had drawn three cards, while the others took two, except Cutler, who had a pair of kings again, and drawing three, picked up two more. Kelley dropped out, remarking he had bet more than his hand was worth, which was true, and Loomis followed him. Their persistence79 had surprised Toussaint a little. He had not given every one suspicious hands: Cutler's four kings were enough. He bet once more, was raised by the scout, called, and threw down his four aces.
“That beats me,” said Cutler, quietly, and his hand moved under his frock-coat, as the half-breed, eyeing the central pile of counters in triumph, closed his fingers over it. They were dashed off by Kelley, who looked expectantly across at Cutler, and seeing the scout's face wither80 into sudden old age, cried out, “For God's sake, Jarvis, where's your gun?” Kelley sprang for the yellow curtain, and reeled backward at the shot of Toussaint. His arm thrashed along the window-sill as he fell, sweeping81 over the lamp, and flaring82 channels of oil ran over his body and spread on the ground. But these could no longer hurt him. The half-breed had leaped outside the cabin, enraged83 that Cutler should have got out during the moment he had been dealing84 with Kelley. The scout was groping for his ivory-handled pistol off in the darkness. He found it, and hurried to the little window at a second shot he heard inside. Loomis, beating the rising flame away, had seized the pistol from the shelf, and aimlessly fired into the night at Toussaint. He fired again, running to the door from the scorching85 heat. Cutler got round the house to save him if he could, and saw the half-breed's weapon flash, and the body pitch out across the threshold. Toussaint, gaining his horse, shot three times and missed Cutler, whom he could not clearly see; and he heard the scout's bullets sing past him as his horse bore him rushing away.
II
Jarvis Cutler lifted the dead Loomis out of the cabin. He made a try for Kelley's body, but the room had become a cave of flame, and he was driven from the door. He wrung86 his hands, giving himself bitter blame aloud, as he covered Loomis with his saddle-blanket, and jumped bareback upon Duster to go to the post. He had not been riding a minute when several men met him. They had seen the fire from below, and on their way up the half-breed had passed them at a run.
“Here's our point,” said Cutler. “Will he hide with the Sioux, or will he take to the railroad? Well, that's my business more than being wagon-master. I'll get a warrant. You tell Lieutenant Balwin—and somebody give me a fresh horse.”
A short while later, as Cutler, with the warrant in his pocket, rode out of Fort Laramie, the call of the sentinels came across the night: “Number One. Twelve o'clock, and all's well.” A moment, and the refrain sounded more distant, given by Number Two. When the fourth took it up, far away along the line, the words were lost, leaving something like the faint echo of a song. The half-breed had crossed the Platte, as if he were making for his kindred tribe, but the scout did not believe in this too plain trail.
“There's Chug Water lying right the other way from where he went, and I guess it's there Mr. Toussaint is aiming for.” With this idea Cutler swung from north to southwest along the Laramie. He went slowly over his shortcut87, not to leave the widely circling Toussaint too much in his rear. The fugitive88 would keep himself carefully far on the other side of the Laramie, and very likely not cross it until the forks of Chug Water. Dawn had ceased to be gray, and the doves were cooing incessantly89 among the river thickets, when Cutler, reaching the forks, found a bottom where the sage-brush grew seven and eight feet high, and buried himself and his horse in its cover. Here was comfort; here both rivers could be safely watched. It seemed a good leisure-time for a little fire and some breakfast. He eased his horse of the saddle, sliced some bacon, and put a match to his pile of small sticks. As the flame caught, he stood up to enjoy the cool of a breeze that was passing through the stillness, and he suddenly stamped his fire out. The smell of another fire had come across Chug Water on the wind. It was incredible that Toussaint should be there already. There was no seeing from this bottom, and if Cutler walked up out of it the other man would see too. If it were Toussaint, he would not stay long in the vast exposed plain across Chug Water, but would go on after his meal. In twenty minutes it would be the thing to swim or wade90 the stream, and crawl up the mud bank to take a look. Meanwhile, Cutler dipped in water some old bread that he had and sucked it down, while the little breeze from opposite hook the cottonwood leaves and brought over the smell of cooking meat. The sun grew warmer, and the doves ceased. Cutler opened his big watch, and clapped it shut as the sound of mud heavily slopping into the other river reached him. He crawled to where he could look at the Laramie from among his sagebrush, and there was Toussaint leading his horse down to the water. The half-breed gave a shrill91 call, and waved his hat. His call was answered, and as he crossed the Laramie, three Sioux appeared, riding to the bank. They waited till he gained their level, when all four rode up the Chug Water, and went out of sight opposite the watching Cutler. The scout threw off some of his clothes, for the water was still high, and when he had crossed, and drawn himself to a level with the plain, there were the four squatted92 among the sage-brush beside a fire. They sat talking and eating for some time. One of them rose at last, pointed93 south, and mounting his horse, dwindled94 to a dot, blurred95, and evaporated in the heated, trembling distance. Cutler at the edge of the bank still watched the other three, who sat on the ground. A faint shot came, and they rose at once, mounted, and vanished southward. There was no following them now in this exposed country, and Cutler, feeling sure that the signal had meant something about Toussaint's horses, made his fire, watered his own horse, and letting him drag a rope where the feed was green, ate his breakfast in ease. Toussaint would get a fresh mount, and proceed to the railroad. With the comfort of certainty and tobacco, the scout lolled by the river under the cottonwood, and even slept. In the cool of the afternoon he reached the cabin of an acquaintance twenty miles south, and changed his horse. A man had passed by, he was told. Looked as if bound for Cheyenne. “No,” Cutler said, “he's known there”; and he went on, watching Toussaint's tracks. Within ten miles they veered96 away from Cheyenne to the southeast, and Cutler struck out on a trail of his own more freely. By midnight he was on Lodge-Pole Creek97, sleeping sound among the last trees that he would pass. He slept twelve hours, having gone to bed knowing he must not come into town by daylight. About nine o'clock he arrived, and went to the railroad station; there the operator knew him. The lowest haunt in the town had a tent south of the union Pacific tracks; and Cutler, getting his irons, and a man from the saloon, went there, and stepped in, covering the room with his pistol. The fiddle98 stopped, the shrieking100 women scattered101, and Toussaint, who had a glass in his hand, let it fly at Cutler's head, for he was drunk. There were two customers besides himself.
“Nobody shall get hurt here,” said Cutler, above the bedlam102 that was now set up. “Only that man's wanted. The quieter I get him, the quieter it'll be for others.”
Toussaint had dived for his pistol, but the proprietor103 of the dance-hall, scenting104 law, struck the half-breed with the butt105 of another, and he rolled over, and was harmless for some minutes. Then he got on his legs, and was led out of the entertainment, which resumed more gayly than ever. Feet shuffled106, the fiddle whined107, and truculent108 treble laughter sounded through the canvas walls as Toussaint walked between Cutler and the saloon-man to jail. He was duly indicted109, and upon the scout's deposition110 committed to trial for the murder of Loomis and Kelley. Cutler, hoping still to be wagon-master, wrote to Lieutenant Balwin, hearing in reply that the reinforcements would not arrive for two months. The session of the court came in one, and Cutler was the Territory's only witness. He gave his name and age, and hesitated over his occupation.
“I would, but I'm such a fool one,” observed the witness. “Put me down as wagon-master to the military outfit112 that's going to White River.”
“What is your residence?”
“Well, I reside in the section that lies between the Missouri River and the Pacific Ocean.”
“A pleasant neighborhood,” said the judge, who knew Cutler perfectly113, and precisely114 how well he could deal poker hands.
“It's not a pleasant neighborhood for some.” And Cutler looked at Toussaint.
“You think you done with me?” Toussaint inquired, upon which silence was ordered in the court.
Upon Cutler's testimony115 the half-breed was found guilty, and sentenced to be hanged in six weeks from that day. Hearing this, he looked at the witness. “I see you one day agin,” he said.
The scout returned to Fort Laramie, and soon the expected troops arrived, and the expedition started for White River to join Captain Brent. The captain was stationed there to impress Red Cloud, and had written to headquarters that this chief did not seem impressed very deeply, and that the lives of the settlers were insecure. Reinforcements were accordingly sent to him. On the evening before these soldiers left Laramie, news came from the south. Toussaint had escaped from jail. The country was full of roving, dubious116 Indians, and with the authentic117 news went a rumor118 that the jailer had received various messages. These were to the effect that the Sioux nation did not desire Toussaint to be killed by the white man, that Toussaint's mother was the sister of Red Cloud, and that many friends of Toussaint often passed the jailer's house. Perhaps he did get such messages. They are not a nice sort to receive. However all this may have been, the prisoner was gone.
III
Fort Robinson, on the White River, is backed by yellow bluffs119 that break out of the foot-hills in turret120 and toadstool shapes, with stunt121 pines starving between their torrid bastions. In front of the fort the land slants122 away into the flat unfeatured desert, and in summer the sky is a blue-steel covet123 that each day shuts the sun and the earth and mankind into one box together, while it lifts at night to let in the cool of the stars. The White River, which is not wide, runs in a curve, and around this curve below the fort some distance was the agency, and beyond it a stockade124, inside which in those days dwelt the settlers. All this was strung out on one side of the White River, outside of the curve; and at a point near the agency a foot-bridge of two cottonwood trunks crossed to the concave of the river's bend—a bottom of some extent, filled with growing cottonwoods, and the tepees of many Sioux families. Along the river and on the plain other tepees stood.
One morning, after Lieutenant Balwin had become established at Fort Robinson, he was talking with his friend Lieutenant Powell, when Cutler knocked at the wire door. The wagon-master was a privileged character, and he sat down and commented irrelevantly125 upon the lieutenant's pictures, Indian curiosities, and other well-meant attempts to conceal126 the walk:
“What's the trouble, Cutler?”
“Don't know as there's any trouble.”
“Come to your point, man; you're not a scout now.”
“Toussaint's here.”
“What! in camp?”
“Hiding with the Sioux. Two Knives heard about it.” (Two Knives was a friendly Indian.) “He's laying for me,” Cutler added.
“You've seen him?”
“No. I want to quit my job and go after him.”
“Nonsense!” said Powell.
“You can't, Cutler,” said Balwin. “I can't spare you.”
“You'll be having to fill my place, then, I guess.”
“You mean to go without permission?” said Powell, sternly.
“Lord, no! He'll shoot me. That's all.”
The two lieutenants pondered.
“And it's to-day,” continued Cutler, plaintively127, “that he should be gettin' hanged in Cheyenne.”
Still the lieutenants pondered, while the wagon-master inspected a photograph of Marie Rose as Marguerite.
“I have it!” exclaimed Powell. “Let's kill him.”
“How about the commanding officer?”
“He'd back us—but we'll tell him afterwards. Cutler, can you find Toussaint?”
“If I get the time.”
“Very well, you're off duty till you do. Then report to me at once.”
Just after guard-mounting two days later, Cutler came in without knocking. Toussaint was found. He was down on the river now, beyond the stockade. In ten minutes the wagon-master and the two lieutenants were rattling128 down to the agency in an ambulance, behind four tall blue government mules129. These were handily driven by a seventeen-year-old boy whom Balwin had picked up, liking130 his sterling131 American ways. He had come West to be a cow-boy, but a chance of helping132 to impress Red Cloud had seemed still dearer to his heart. They drew up at the agency store, and all went in, leaving the boy nearly out of his mind with curiosity, and pretending to be absorbed with the reins. Presently they came out, Balwin with field-glasses.
“Now,” said he, “where?”
“You see the stockade, sir?”
“Well?” said Powell, sticking his chin on Cutler's shoulder to look along his arm as he pouted133. But the scout proposed to be deliberate.
“Now the gate of the stockade is this way, ain't it?”
“Well, well?”
“You start there and follow the fence to the corner—the left corner, towards the river. Then you follow the side that's nearest the river down to the other corner. Now that corner is about a hundred yards from the bank. You take a bee-line to the bank and go down stream, maybe thirty yards. No; it'll be forty yards, I guess. There's a lone50 pine-tree right agin the edge.” The wagon-master stopped.
“I see all that,” said Lieutenant Balwin, screwing the field-glasses. “There's a buck48 and a squaw lying under the tree.”
“Naw, sir,” drawled Cutler, “that ain't no buck. That's him lying in his Injun blanket and chinnin' a squaw.”
“Why, that man's an Indian, Cutler. I tell you I can see his braids.”
“Oh, he's rigged up Injun fashion, fust rate, sir. But them braids of his ain't his'n. False hair.”
The lieutenants passed each other the fieldglasses three times, and glared at the lone pine and the two figures in blankets. The boy on the ambulance was unable to pretend any longer, and leaned off his seat till he nearly fell.
“Well,” said Balwin, “I never saw anything look more like a buck Sioux. Look at his paint. Take the glasses yourself, Cutler.”
But Cutler refused. “He's like an Injun,” he said. “But that's just what he wants to be.” The scout's conviction bore down their doubt.
They were persuaded. “You can't come with us, Cutler,” said Powell. “You must wait for us here.”
“I know, sir; he'd spot us, sure. But it ain't right. I started this whole business with my poker scheme at that cabin, and I ought to stay with it clear through.”
The officers went into the agency store and took down two rifles hanging at the entrance, always ready for use. “We're going to kill a man,” they explained, and the owner was entirely satisfied. They left the rueful Cutler inside, and proceeded to the gate of the stockade, turning there to the right, away from the river, and following the paling round the corner down to the farther right-hand corner. Looking from behind it, the lone pine-tree stood near, and plain against the sky. The striped figures lay still in their blankets, talking, with their faces to the river. Here and there across the stream the smoke-stained peak of a tepee showed among the green leaves.
“Did you ever see a more genuine Indian?” inquired Baldwin.
“We must let her rip now, anyhow,” said Powell, and they stepped out into the open. They walked towards the pine till it was a hundred yards from them, and the two beneath it lay talking all the while. Balwin covered the man with his rifle and called. The man turned his head, and seeing the rifle, sat up in his blanket. The squaw sat up also. Again the officer called, keeping his rifle steadily134 pointed, and the man dived like a frog over the bank. Like magic his blanket had left his limbs and painted body naked, except for the breech-clout. Balwin's tardy135 bullet threw earth over the squaw, who went flapping and screeching136 down the river. Balwin and Powell ran to the edge, which dropped six abrupt137 feet of clay to a trail, then shelved into the swift little stream. The red figure was making up the trail to the foot-bridge that led to the Indian houses, and both officers fired. The man continued his limber flight, and they jumped down and followed, firing. They heard a yell on the plain above, and an answer to it, and then confused yells above and below, gathering138 all the while. The figure ran on above the river trail below the bank, and their bullets whizzed after it.
“Indian!” asserted Balwin, panting.
“Ran away, though,” said Powell.
“So'd you run. Think any Sioux'd stay when an army officer comes gunning for him?”
“Shoot!” said Powell. “'S getting near bridge,” and they went on, running and firing. The yells all over the plain were thickening. The air seemed like a substance of solid flashing sound. The naked runner came round the river curve into view of the people at the agency store.
“Where's a rifle?” said Cutler to the agent.
“Officers got 'em,” the agent explained.
“Well, I can't stand this,” said the scout, and away he went.
“That man's crazy,” said the agent.
“You bet he ain't!” remarked the ambulance boy.
Cutler was much nearer to the bridge than was the man in the breech-clout, and reaching the bank, he took half a minute's keen pleasure in watching the race come up the trail. When the figure was within ten yards Cutler slowly drew an ivory-handled pistol. The lieutenants below saw the man leap to the middle of the bridge, sway suddenly with arms thrown up, and topple into White River. The current swept the body down, and as it came it alternately lifted and turned and sank as the stream played with it. Sometimes it struck submerged stumps139 or shallows, and bounded half out of water, then drew under with nothing but the back of the head in sight, turning round and round. The din1 of Indians increased, and from the tepees in the cottonwoods the red Sioux began to boil, swarming140 on the opposite bank, but uncertain what had happened. The man rolling in the water was close to the officers.
“It's not our man,” said Balwin. “Did you or I hit him?”
“We're gone, anyhow,” said Powell, quietly. “Look!”
A dozen rifles were pointing at their heads on the bank above. The Indians still hesitated, for there was Two Knives telling them these officers were not enemies, and had hurt no Sioux. Suddenly Cutler pushed among the rifles, dashing up the nearest two with his arm, and their explosion rang in the ears of the lieutenants. Powell stood grinning at the general complication of matters that had passed beyond his control, and Balwin made a grab as the head of the man in the river washed by. The false braid came off in his hand!
“Quick!” shouted Cutler from the bank. “Shove him up here!”
Two Knives redoubled his harangue141, and the Indians stood puzzled, while the lieutenants pulled Toussaint out, not dead, but shot through the hip. They dragged him over the clay and hoisted142 him, till Cutler caught hold and jerked him to the level, as a new noise of rattling descended143 on the crowd, and the four blue mules wheeled up and halted. The boy had done it himself. Massing the officers' need, he had pelted144 down among the Sioux, heedless of their yells, and keeping his gray eyes on his team. In got the three, pushing Toussaint in front, and scoured145 away for the post as the squaw arrived to shriek99 the truth to her tribe—what Red Cloud's relation had been the victim.
Cutler sat smiling as the ambulance swung along. “I told you I belonged in this here affair,” he said. And when they reached the fort he was saying it still, occasionally.
Captain Brent considered it neatly146 done. “But that boy put the finishing touches,” he said. “Let's have him in.”
The boy was had in, and ate a dinner with the officers in glum147 embarrassment148, smoking a cigar after it without joy. Toussaint was given into the doctor's hands, and his wounds carefully dressed.
“This will probably cost an Indian outbreak,” said Captain Brent, looking down at the plain. Blanketed riders galloped149 over it, and yelling filled the air. But Toussaint was not destined150 to cause this further harm. An unexpected influence intervened.
All afternoon the cries and galloping151 went on, and next morning (worse sign) there seemed to be no Indians in the world. The horizon was empty, the air was silent, the smoking tepees were vanished from the cottonwoods, and where those in the plain had been lay the lodge-poles, and the fires were circles of white, cold ashes. By noon an interpreter came from Red Cloud. Red Cloud would like to have Toussaint. If the white man was not willing, it should be war.
Captain Brent told the story of Loomis and Kelley. “Say to Red Cloud,” he ended, “that when a white man does such things among us, he is killed. Ask Red Cloud if Toussaint should live. If he thinks yes, let him come and take Toussaint.”
The next day with ceremony and feathers of state, Red Cloud came, bringing his interpreter, and after listening until every word had been told him again, requested to see the half-breed. He was taken to the hospital. A sentry152 stood on post outside the tent, and inside lay Toussaint, with whom Cutler and the ambulance-boy were playing whiskey-poker. While the patient was waiting to be hanged, he might as well enjoy himself within reason. Such was Cutler's frontier philosophy. We should always do what we can for the sick. At sight of Red Cloud looming153 in the doorway154, gorgeous and grim as Fate, the game was suspended. The Indian took no notice of the white men, and walked to the bed. Toussaint clutched at his relation's fringe, but Red Cloud looked at him. Then the mongrel strain of blood told, and the half-breed poured out a chattering155 appeal, while Red Cloud by the bedside waited till it had spent itself. Then he grunted156, and left the room. He had not spoken, and his crest158 of long feathers as it turned the corner was the last vision of him that the card-players had.
Red Cloud came back to the officers, and in their presence formally spoke157 to his interpreter, who delivered the message: “Red Cloud says Toussaint heap no good. No Injun, anyhow. He not want him. White man hunt pretty hard for him. Can keep him.”
Thus was Toussaint twice sentenced. He improved under treatment, played many games of whiskey-poker, and was conveyed to Cheyenne and hanged.
These things happened in the early seventies; but there are Sioux still living who remember the two lieutenants, and how they pulled the half-breed out of White River by his false hair. It makes them laugh to this day. Almost any Indian is full of talk when he chooses, and when he gets hold of a joke he never lets go.
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1
din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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digestion
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| n.消化，吸收 | |
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3
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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lieutenants
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| n.陆军中尉( lieutenant的名词复数 )；副职官员；空军；仅低于…官阶的官员 | |
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anecdote
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| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
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6
poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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7
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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battalion
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| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
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9
plumes
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| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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10
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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11
mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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12
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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13
merged
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| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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14
sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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15
bugle
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| n.军号，号角，喇叭；v.吹号，吹号召集 | |
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16
forsake
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| vt.遗弃，抛弃；舍弃，放弃 | |
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17
civilian
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| adj.平民的，民用的，民众的 | |
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18
scout
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| n.童子军，侦察员；v.侦察，搜索 | |
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19
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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20
census
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| n.(官方的)人口调查，人口普查 | |
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21
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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22
lugubrious
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| adj.悲哀的，忧郁的 | |
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23
fluted
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| a.有凹槽的 | |
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24
cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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25
sociable
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| adj.好交际的，友好的，合群的 | |
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26
grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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27
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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28
crafty
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| adj.狡猾的，诡诈的 | |
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29
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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30
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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31
belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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32
skunk
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| n.臭鼬，黄鼠狼；v.使惨败，使得零分；烂醉如泥 | |
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33
strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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34
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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35
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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36
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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37
hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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38
mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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39
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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40
amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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41
heartiness
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| 诚实，热心 | |
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42
candor
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| n.坦白，率真 | |
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43
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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44
lashing
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| n.鞭打；痛斥；大量；许多v.鞭打( lash的现在分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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45
straps
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| n.带子( strap的名词复数 )；挎带；肩带；背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 )；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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46
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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47
bucking
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| v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的现在分词 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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48
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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49
gulch
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| n.深谷，峡谷 | |
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50
lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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51
lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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52
craftily
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| 狡猾地，狡诈地 | |
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53
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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54
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
receded
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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56
runaway
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| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
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57
wrenching
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| n.修截苗根，苗木铲根（铲根时苗木不起土或部分起土）v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的现在分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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58
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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59
thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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60
bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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61
savory
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| adj.风味极佳的，可口的，味香的 | |
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62
serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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63
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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64
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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65
hog
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| n.猪；馋嘴贪吃的人；vt.把…占为己有，独占 | |
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66
swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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67
aces
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| abbr.adjustable convertible-rate equity security (units) 可调节的股本证券兑换率；aircraft ejection seat 飞机弹射座椅；automatic control evaluation simulator 自动控制评估模拟器n.擅长…的人( ace的名词复数 )；精于…的人；（ 网球 ）（对手接不到发球的）发球得分；爱司球 | |
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68
irrationally
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| ad.不理性地 | |
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69
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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70
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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71
melodious
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| adj.旋律美妙的，调子优美的，音乐性的 | |
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72
bunks
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| n.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的名词复数 )；空话，废话v.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的第三人称单数 )；空话，废话 | |
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73
gull
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| n.鸥；受骗的人；v.欺诈 | |
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74
coup
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| n.政变；突然而成功的行动 | |
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75
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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76
grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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77
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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78
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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79
persistence
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| n.坚持，持续，存留 | |
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80
wither
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| vt.使凋谢，使衰退，(用眼神气势等)使畏缩；vi.枯萎，衰退，消亡 | |
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81
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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82
flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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83
enraged
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| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
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84
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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85
scorching
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| adj. 灼热的 | |
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86
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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87
shortcut
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| n.近路，捷径 | |
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88
fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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89
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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90
wade
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| v.跋涉，涉水；n.跋涉 | |
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91
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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92
squatted
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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93
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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94
dwindled
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| v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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95
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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96
veered
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| v.（尤指交通工具）改变方向或路线( veer的过去式和过去分词 )；（指谈话内容、人的行为或观点）突然改变；（指风） （在北半球按顺时针方向、在南半球按逆时针方向）逐渐转向；风向顺时针转 | |
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97
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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98
fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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99
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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100
shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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101
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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102
bedlam
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| n.混乱，骚乱；疯人院 | |
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103
proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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104
scenting
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| vt.闻到（scent的现在分词形式） | |
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105
butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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106
shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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107
whined
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| v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
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108
truculent
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| adj.野蛮的，粗野的 | |
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109
indicted
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| 控告，起诉( indict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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110
deposition
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| n.免职，罢官；作证；沉淀；沉淀物 | |
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111
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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112
outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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113
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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114
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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115
testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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116
dubious
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| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
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117
authentic
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| a.真的，真正的；可靠的，可信的，有根据的 | |
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118
rumor
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| n.谣言，谣传，传说 | |
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119
bluffs
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| 恐吓( bluff的名词复数 )； 悬崖； 峭壁 | |
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120
turret
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| n.塔楼，角塔 | |
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121
stunt
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| n.惊人表演，绝技，特技；vt.阻碍...发育，妨碍...生长 | |
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122
slants
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| （使）倾斜，歪斜( slant的第三人称单数 )； 有倾向性地编写或报道 | |
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123
covet
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| vt.垂涎；贪图(尤指属于他人的东西) | |
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124
stockade
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| n.栅栏，围栏；v.用栅栏防护 | |
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125
irrelevantly
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| adv.不恰当地，不合适地；不相关地 | |
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126
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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127
plaintively
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| adv.悲哀地，哀怨地 | |
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128
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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129
mules
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| 骡( mule的名词复数 )； 拖鞋； 顽固的人； 越境运毒者 | |
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130
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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131
sterling
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| adj.英币的(纯粹的，货真价实的)；n.英国货币(英镑) | |
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132
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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133
pouted
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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134
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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135
tardy
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| adj.缓慢的，迟缓的 | |
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136
screeching
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| v.发出尖叫声( screech的现在分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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137
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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138
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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139
stumps
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| （被砍下的树的）树桩( stump的名词复数 )； 残肢； （板球三柱门的）柱； 残余部分 | |
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140
swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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141
harangue
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| n.慷慨冗长的训话，言辞激烈的讲话 | |
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142
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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143
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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144
pelted
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| （连续地）投掷( pelt的过去式和过去分词 )； 连续抨击； 攻击； 剥去…的皮 | |
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145
scoured
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| 走遍（某地）搜寻（人或物）( scour的过去式和过去分词 )； （用力）刷； 擦净； 擦亮 | |
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146
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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147
glum
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| adj.闷闷不乐的，阴郁的 | |
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148
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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149
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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150
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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151
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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152
sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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153
looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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154
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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155
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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156
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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157
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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158
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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