The Way of an Indian | Page 9

or a strong pony, when they do not look,"

continued the indomitable Bat.
"Yes--we will try."
"I will go down the hill, and make my pony go around in a circle so
that the camp may send the warriors out to us," saying which, the Bat
rode the danger-signal, and the Chis-chis-chash riders came scurrying
over the dry grass, leaving lines of white dust in long marks behind
them. Having assembled to the number of a hundred or so, the chiefs
held a long consultation, each talking loudly from his horse, with many
gestures. After some minutes, the head war-chief declared in a high,
rough voice that the man must go to the Yellow-Eyes with the
peace-sign, and that they must not do anything to make the
Yellow-Eyes afraid. The white men had many guns, and if they feared
the Indians they would fire on them, and it would be impossible to get
near the powder and paints and knives which were in the carts.
The warriors took each from a little bag his paints and plumes. Sitting
in the grass, they decorated themselves until they assumed all
hues--some red, and others half white or red across the face, while the
ponies came in for streaks and daubs, grotesque as tropic birds.
So over the hill rode the line of naked men, their ponies dancing with
excitement, while ahead of them a half-breed man skimmed along
bearing a small bush over his head. The cavalcade of the Yellow-Eyes
had halted in a compact mass, awaiting the oncoming Indians. They
had dismounted and gone out on the sides away from the carts, where
they squatted quietly in the grass. This was what the Yellow-Eyes
always did in war, unlike Indians, who diffused themselves on their
speeding ponies, sailing like hawks.
A warrior of the Yellow-Eyes came to meet them, waving a white cloth
from his gun-barrel after the manner of his people, and the two
peace-bearers shook hands. Breaking into a run, the red line swept on,
their ponies' legs beating the ground in a vibratory whirl, their plumes
swishing back in a rush of air, and with yelps which made the white
men draw their guns into a menacing position.

At a motion of the chief's arm, the line stopped. The Yellow-Eyed men
rose slowly from the grass and rested on their long rifles, while their
chief came forward.
For a long time the two head men sat on their ponies in front of the
horsemen, speaking together with their hands. Not a sound was to be
heard but the occasional stamp of a pony's hoof on the hard ground.
The beady eyes of the Chis-chis-chash beamed malevolently on the
white chief--the blood-thirst, the warrior's itch, was upon them.
After an understanding had been arrived at, the Indian war-chief turned
to his people and spoke. "We will go back to our village. The
Yellow-Eyes do not want us among their carts--they are afraid. We will
camp near by them to-night, and tomorrow we will exchange gifts. Go
back, Chis-chis-chash, or the white chief says it is war. We do not want
war." This and much more said the chief and his older men to the
impulsive braves, whose uncontrollable appetites had been whetted by
the sight of the carts. The white man was firm and the Indians drew off
to await the coming of the village.
The two camps were pitched that night two miles apart; the
Yellow-Eyes intrenched behind their packs and carts, while the Indians,
being in overwhelming strength, did much as usual, except that the
camp-soldiers drove the irrepressible boys back, not minding to beat
their ponies with their whips when they were slow to go. There was
nothing that a boy could do except obey when the camp-soldier spoke
to him. He was the one restraint they had, the only one.
But as a mark of honor, the Bat and Red Arrow were given the
distinguished honor of observing the Yellow-Eyed camp all night, to
note its movements if any occurred, and with high hearts they sat under
a hill-top all through the cold darkness, and their souls were much
chastened by resisting the impulses to run off the white man's ponies,
which they conceived to be a very possible undertaking. The Bat even
declared that if he ever became a chief this policy of inaction would be
followed by one more suited to pony-loving young men.
Nothing having occurred, they returned before daylight to their own

camp so to inform the war-chief.
That day the Chis-chis-chash crowded around the barricade of the
Yellow-Eyes, but were admitted only a few at a time. They received
many small presents of coffee and sugar, and traded what ponies and
robes they could. At last it became the time for the Bat