The Last of the Chiefs

Joseph A. Altsheler
The Last of the Chiefs, by Joseph
Altsheler

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Title: The Last of the Chiefs A Story of the Great Sioux War
Author: Joseph Altsheler
Release Date: August 31, 2007 [EBook #22464]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST
OF THE CHIEFS ***

Produced by Lynn Ratcliffe

THE LAST OF THE CHIEFS A Story of the Great Sioux War
by Joseph A. Altsheler
Contents

I--The Train II--King Bison III--The Pass IV--Treasure-Trove V--The
Lost Valley VI--Castle Howard VII--An Animal Progression VIII--The
Trap Makers IX--The Timber Wolves X--Dick Goes Scouting XI--The
Terrible Pursuit XII--The Fight with Nature XIII--Albert's Victory
XIV--Prisoners XV--The Indian Village XVI--The Gathering of the
Sioux XVII--Great Sun Dance XVIII--The Circle of Death XIX--A
Happy Meeting XX--Bright Sun's Good-by
Chapter I
The Train
The boy in the third wagon was suffering from exhaustion. The days
and days of walking over the rolling prairie, under a brassy sun, the
hard food of the train, and the short hours of rest, had put too severe a
trial upon his delicate frame. Now, as he lay against the sacks and
boxes that had been drawn up to form a sort of couch for him, his
breath came in short gasps, and his face was very pale. His brother,
older, and stronger by far, who walked at the wheel, regarded him with
a look in which affection and intense anxiety were mingled. It was not
a time and place in which one could afford to be ill.
Richard and Albert Howard were bound together by the strongest of
brotherly ties. Richard had inherited his father's bigness and powerful
constitution, Albert his mother's slenderness and fragility. But it was
the mother who lived the longer, although even she did not attain
middle age, and her last words to her older son were: "Richard, take
care of Albert." He had promised, and now was thinking how he could
keep the promise.
It was a terrible problem that confronted Richard Howard. He felt no
fear on his own account. A boy in years, he was a man in the ability to
care for himself, wherever he might be. In a boyhood spent on an
Illinois farm, where the prairies slope up to the forest, he had learned
the ways of wood and field, and was full of courage, strength, and
resource.
But Albert was different. He had not thrived in the moist air of the

great valley. Tall enough he was, but the width of chest and thickness
of bone were lacking. Noticing this, the idea of going to California had
come to the older brother. The great gold days had passed years since,
but it was still a land of enchantment to the youth of the older states,
and the long journey in the high, dry air of the plains would be good for
Albert. There was nothing to keep them back. They had no property
save a little money--enough for their equipment, and a few dollars over
to live on in California until they could get work.
To decide was to start, and here they were in the middle of the vast
country that rolled away west of the Missouri, known but little, and full
of dangers. The journey had been much harder than the older boy had
expected. The days stretched out, the weeks trailed away, and still the
plains rolled before them.
The summer had been of the hottest, and the heated earth gave back the
glare until the air quivered in torrid waves. Richard had drawn back the
cover of the wagon that his brother might breathe the air, but he
replaced it now to protect him from the overpowering beams. Once
more he anxiously studied the country, but it gave him little hope. The
green of the grass was gone, and most of the grass with it. The brown
undulations swept away from horizon to horizon, treeless, waterless,
and bare. In all that vast desolation there was nothing save the tired and
dusty train at the very center of it.
"Anything in sight, Dick?" asked Albert, who had followed his
brother's questioning look.
Dick shook his head.
"Nothing, Al," he replied.
"I wish we'd come to a grove," said the sick boy.
He longed, as do all those who are born in the hills, for the sight of
trees and clear, running water.
"I was thinking, Dick," he resumed in short, gasping tones, "that it

would be
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