The Great Sioux Trail: A Story of Mountain and Plain. Altsheler Joseph Alexander
taken on a new and brighter tint of silver.
"Boyd Lake and Clarke Valley are putting on their best in our honor," said Will.
Then they ate a huge breakfast, mostly of elk and bear meat, and afterward considered the situation. Will had the natural impatience of youth, but Boyd was all for staying on a couple of weeks at least. They might not find another such secure place, one that furnished its own food, and nothing would be lost while much could be gained by waiting. It was easy enough to persuade the lad, who was, on the whole, rather glad to be convinced, and then they turned their thoughts toward the improvement of a camp which had some of the elements of permanency.
"We could, of course, build a good, strong cabin," said Boyd, "and with our stout axes it would not take long to do it, but I don't think we'll need the protection of logs. The wickiup ought to serve. We may not have another storm while we're here, but showers are pretty sure to come."
To provide against contingencies they strengthened the wickiup with another layer of poles, and Boyd spread over the leaves on the floor the skin of a huge grizzly bear that he killed on one of the slopes. They felt now that it was secure against any blizzard that might sweep through the mountains, and that within its shelter they could keep warm and dry in the very worst of times. But they did not sleep in it again for a full week, no rain falling at night during that period. Instead they spread their blankets under the trees.
"It's odd, and I don't pretend to account for it," said Boyd, "but it's only progressive white men who understand the value of fresh air. As I told you, the Sioux never sleep outside, when they can help it. Neither do the other Indians. In the day they live outdoors, but at night they like to seal themselves up in a box, so to speak."
"Rushing from extreme to extreme."
"Maybe, but as for me, I want no better bed than the soft boughs of balsam, with blankets and the unlimited blue sky, provided, of course, that it isn't raining or hailing or sleeting or snowing. It's powerful healthy. Since we've come into Clarke Valley I can see, Will, that you've grown about two inches in height and that you're at least six inches bigger around the chest."
"You're a pretty big exaggerator!" laughed Will, "but I certainly do feel bigger and stronger than I was when I arrived here. If the Sioux will only let us bide in peace awhile I think I may keep on growing. Tell me more about the Sioux, Jim. They're a tremendous league, and I suppose you know as much about 'em as any white man in this part of the world."
"I've been in their country long enough to learn a lot, and there's a lot to learn. The Sioux are to the West what the Iroquois were to the East, that is, so far as their power is concerned, though their range of territory is far larger than that of the Iroquois ever was. They roam over an extent of mountain and plain, hundreds and hundreds of miles either way. I've heard that they can put thirty thousand warriors in the field, though I don't know whether it's true or not, but I do know that they are more numerous and warlike than any other Indian nation in the West, and that they have leaders who are really big men, men who think as well as fight. There's Mahpeyalute, whom you saw and whom we call Red Cloud, and Tatanka Yotanka, whom we call Sitting Bull, and Gray Wolf and War Eagle and lots of others.
"Besides, the Sioux, or, in their own language, the Dakotas, are a great nation made up of smaller nations, all of the same warlike stock. There is the tribe of the Mendewakaton, which means Spirit Lake Village, then you have the Wahpekute or Leaf Shooters; the Wahpeton, the Leaf Village; the Sisseton, the Swamp Village; the Yankton, the End Village, the Yanktonnais, the Upper End Village, and the Teton, the Prairie Village. The Teton tribe, which is very formidable, is subdivided into the Ogalala, the Brule, and the Hunkpapa. Red Cloud, as I've told you before, is an Ogalala. And that's a long enough lesson for you for one day. Now, like a good boy, go catch some fish."
Will had discovered very early that Lake Boyd, which was quite deep, contained fine lake trout and also other fish almost as good to the taste. As their packs included strong fishing tackle it was not difficult to obtain all the fish they wanted, and the task generally fell to the lad. Now, at Boyd's suggestion, he fulfilled it once more with the usual success.
Game of all kinds, large and small, was abundant, the valley being fairly overrun with it. Boyd said that it had come in through the narrow passes, and its numbers indicated that no hunters had been there in a long time. Will even found a small herd of about a dozen buffaloes grazing at the south end of the valley, but the next day they disappeared, evidently alarmed by the invasion of human beings. But the deer continued numerous and there were both bears and mountain lions along the slopes.
Will, who had a certain turn for solitude, being of a thoughtful, serious nature, ceased to find the waiting in the valley irksome. He began to think less of the treasure for which he had come so far and through such dangers. They had found a happy valley, and he did not care how long they stayed in it, all nature being so propitious. He had never before breathed an air so fine, and always it was redolent with the odor of pine and balsam. He began to feel that Boyd had not exaggerated much when he talked about his increase in height and chest expansion.
Both he and the hunter bathed every morning in Lake Boyd. At first Will could not endure its cold water more than five minutes, but at the end of ten days he was able to splash and swim in it as long as he liked.
Their days were not all passed in idleness, as they replenished their stores by jerking the meat of both bear and deer. At the end of two weeks the hunter began to talk of departure, and he and Will walked toward the western end of the valley, where the creek issued in a narrow pass, the only road by which they could leave.
"It's likely to be a mighty rough path," said Boyd, "but our horses are still mountain climbers and we'll be sure to make it."
They went a little nearer and listened to the music of the singing waters, as the creek rushed through the cleft. It was a fine, soothing note, but presently another rose above it, clear and melodious.
It was a whistle, and it had such a penetrating quality that Will, at first, thought it was a bird. Then he knew it sprang from the throat of a man, hidden by the bushes and coming up the pass. Nearer and nearer it came and mellower and mellower it grew. He had never before heard anyone whistle so beautifully. It was like a song, but it was evident that someone was entering their happy valley, and in that wilderness who could come but an enemy? Nearer and nearer the whistler drew and the musical note of the whistling and its echoes filled all the pass.
"Wouldn't it be better for us to draw back a little where we can remain hidden among the brakes?" said Will.
"Yes, do it," replied the hunter, "just for precaution against any possible mistake, but I don't think we really need to do so. In all the world there's not another such whistler! It's bound to be Giant Tom, Giant Tom his very self, and none other!"
"Giant Tom! Giant Tom! Whom do you mean?" exclaimed Will.
"Just wait a minute and you'll see."
The whistler was now very near, though hidden from sight by the bushes, and he was trilling forth old airs of home that made the pulses in the lad's throat beat hard.
"It's Giant Tom. There's no other such in the world," repeated Boyd more to himself than to Will. "In another minute you'll see him. You can hear him now brushing past the bushes. Ah, there he is! God bless him!"
The figure of an extraordinary man now came into view. He was not more than five feet tall, nor was he particularly broad for his height. He was just the opposite of a giant in size, but there was something about him that suggested the power of a giant. He had a wonderfully quick and light step, and it was Will's first impression that he was made of steel, instead of flesh and blood. His face, shaven smoothly, told little of his age. He was dressed in weather-beaten brown, rifle on shoulder, and two mules, loaded with the usual packs and miner's tools, followed him in single file and with sure step.
Will's heart warmed at once to the little man who continued to whistle forth a volume of clear song, and whose face was perhaps the happiest he had ever seen. Boyd stepped suddenly from the shielding brushwood and extended his hand.
"Tom Bent," he said, "put 'er there!"
"Thar she is," said Giant Tom, placing his palm squarely in Boyd's.
"My young