The Great Sioux Trail: A Story of Mountain and PlainAltsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
General
The Great Sioux Trail: A Story of Mountain and Plain
Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
Dakota Indians -- Fiction; West (U.S.) -- Fiction
On the second day afterward they curved back toward the south and struck
the great buffalo trail. But the herd, which did have an end after all,
had now passed, and they saw only stragglers. As the trail led into the
northwest and their own trail must be more nearly west, they crossed it
and did not stop until half the night had gone, as they knew the Indians
were most to be dreaded near the herd or in its path.
When they camped now Will could no longer see the White Dome, which had
followed them so long, watching over them like a great and majestic
friend. He missed that lofty white signal in the sky, feeling as if a
good omen had gone, and that the signs would not now be so favorable.
But the depression was only momentary. He had cultivated too strong and
courageous a will ever to allow himself to be depressed long.
At noon they were far from the hills and out on the open plains, which
spread swell on swell before them, seemingly to infinity, with only a
lone tree here and there, and at rare intervals a sluggish stream an
inch or two deep and dangerous with quicksands. The water of these
little creeks was not good, touched at times with alkali, but they made
the horses and mules drink it, saving the pure supply they carried for
a period of greater need.
Will used his glasses almost continually, watching for a possible enemy
or anything else that might appear upon the plain, and he saw occasional
groups of the buffalo, a dozen or so, at which he expressed surprise.
"And why are you surprised, young William?" asked Brady. "Don't you know
enough of this mighty West not to be surprised at anything?"
"I saw so many millions in that herd going into the northwest," replied
the lad, "that I thought it must have included all the buffaloes in the
world. Yet here are more, scattered in little groups."
"And there are other herds millions strong far down in the south, and
still others just as strong, Montana way. It may be in this great hunt
of ours that we can live on the buffalo, just as the Indians do."
They slept that night on the open plain, warm in their blankets and
lulled by the eternal winds, and the next morning they were off again at
the first upshoot of dawn. It now grew very warm, the sun's rays coming
down vertically, while the plain itself seemed to act as a burnished
shield, reflecting them and doubling the heat. Careful of their animals,
they gave them a long rest at noon, and then resumed the march at a slow
pace. Before sundown Will saw through his glasses a long line of trees,
apparently cottonwoods, running almost due north and south.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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