War Trail

Russell Gregor Elmer

Description

The War Trail is another of Elmer Russell Gregor's thrilling tales recounting the exploits of the mighty Sioux warrior White Otter. In this volume of the series, White Otter's longtime friend Sun Bird finds himself in trouble when he is attacked and robbed by enemy tribe the Blackfeet.

Sujets

• Westerns
• Western (genre)
• Western

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 octobre 2015
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776591572
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE WAR TRAIL
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ELMER RUSSELL GREGOR
 
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The War Trail First published in 1921 Epub ISBN 978-1-77659-157-2 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77659-158-9 © 2013 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Chapter I - A Courier from the West Chapter II - Off on the War Trail Chapter III - The Council Fire Chapter IV - Away into the North Chapter V - Sioux Scouts Chapter VI - The Lone Rider Chapter VII - Smoke Signals Chapter VIII - A Close Call Chapter IX - Anxious Moments Chapter X - Rebellious Ponies Chapter XI - An Unusual Adventure Chapter XII - An Encounter with the Flatheads Chapter XIII - A Clever Stratagem Chapter XIV - The Blackfeet Camp Chapter XV - A Perilous Reconnaissance Chapter XVI - Off with the Ponies Chapter XVII - Hotly Pursued Chapter XVIII - The Stampede Chapter XIX - Trailing the Runaways Chapter XX - Safe at Last
Chapter I - A Courier from the West
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The sun was setting behind the western rim of the plain, as White Otter,a famous young war-chief of the Ogalala Sioux, drew near the low ridgeof foothills which he had been approaching since daylight. He was boundon a hunting expedition for deer, having promised to kill a fat youngbuck for his grandfather, old Wolf Robe, the aged Sioux chief.
White Otter approached the timber with his usual caution. He knew thatthe forest often concealed foes as well as game, and he determined totake no risks. He rode slowly toward the cover, therefore, watching forthe slightest warning of danger. He was within easy arrow range of thewoods when his pony suddenly stopped and snorted nervously. White Otterinstantly became alert. Drawing his bow, he slid to the ground, andsheltered himself behind his pony. Then for some time pony and riderwatched the forest.
A loud crackling of undergrowth, and a number of soft, boundingfootfalls told him the cause of his alarm. He had startled a deer fromits feeding ground at the edge of the plain. Convinced that the placewas free of foes, he mounted his pony, and rode to the edge of thetimber.
This range of heavily timbered foothills was a favorite hunting groundof the Ogalalas, and White Otter had visited the locality many times. Hewas entirely familiar with the usual haunts of game, and knew thelocation of every spring and salt lick. Once in the timber, therefore,the young Sioux rode slowly along a well-worn game trail which broughthim to a small grassy park in the dip of the hills. A little streamtrickled through one end of it, and made it an ideal feeding ground fordeer and elk. As it was also an attractive and sheltered camp site, andoffered an abundance of feed for his pony, White Otter decided to remainthere for the night.
The twilight shadows were already gathering as the Sioux tied his ponyin the woods and seated himself at the edge of the little park to watchand listen. Although the day was about gone he hoped that he mightsecure his game before darkness finally settled down. It was not longbefore he was roused by a rustling of wings above his head. Looking up,he saw a pair of plump spruce grouse on a limb directly over him. As thebirds stretched their necks and cocked their heads to look at him, hedrove an arrow through the body of the cock grouse. The bird flutteredhelplessly to the ground, and White Otter immediately broke its neck.The remaining grouse still sat peering down at him. He made no attemptto kill it. It was a law of his people to kill only what they requiredthat there might always be sufficient game to replenish the supply.
"Wakantunka, the Great Mystery, has sent me something to eat," WhiteOtter said, reverently. "It is good."
As it was getting quite dark, and as there seemed little probability ofseeing game, the Sioux decided to abandon his vigil until daylight. Hebrought his pony from the timber and tied it in the center of the parkto graze. Then he selected his camp site and made a tiny fire of drysticks. As a precaution against being seen by some prowling foe, heinclosed it with a barricade of rocks to hide its feeble glow. Heplucked the grouse and spitted it on a forked stick before the fire.Then he drew his elk skin robe about his shoulders and seated himself toenjoy his evening meal.
After he had eaten the grouse White Otter allowed the fire to die out.Then for a long time he sat in the darkness, listening to the nightsounds. The wind whispered softly in the tree tops. The shrill yelpingof the coyotes came from the open plain. Then the plaintive cry of thelittle red owl sounded within bowshot. White Otter listened anxiously.He knew that the call often was used as a signal, and he determined tobe on his guard. However, he soon convinced himself that it was genuine,and dismissed it from his mind. Shortly afterward he brought his ponyfrom the park and tied it near him. Then he wrapped himself in his robeand lay down to sleep.
White Otter awakened at daylight and crept stealthily to the edge of thepark. As he saw no game, he sat down to watch. He felt quite sure thateither deer or elk would soon come there for food and water. In fact hehad waited only a short time when he heard something approaching throughthe undergrowth. Fitting an arrow to his bow, White Otter lookedanxiously in the direction of the sound. In a few minutes he saw an oldbull elk standing in the shadows at the edge of the woods. It was thinand emaciated, and White Otter knew that its flesh would be tough andunpalatable. It was well within bowshot, but he had no thought ofkilling it. He had promised his aged grandfather a fat young buck, andhe had no intention of disappointing him. As the old bull walked slowlyinto the open, White Otter grunted, and the elk instantly stopped andlooked toward him. Then as the Sioux rose to his feet and showed himselfthe aged bull turned awkwardly and trotted stiffly into the cover.
"Go, old man," laughed White Otter. "You have lived a long time. I willlet you live on. I am—"
He stopped abruptly, for at that moment he heard a loud snort, and agreat crackling of brush, as the buck for which he had been waitingraced safely away through the woods. The young hunter flushed withanger.
"I am like a noisy old woman," he grumbled, savagely.
After he had gone to examine the trail of the buck, he again seatedhimself at the edge of the woods to watch for game. A long time passedbefore he heard anything. Then he was surprised to hear something comingdirectly toward him through the woods. It made a great noise, andsounded like a deer or an elk in wild flight. White Otter sprang to hisfeet and held his arrow in readiness.
In a few moments a splendid blacktail buck leaped into the open. WhiteOtter was astonished to see a huge gray lynx clinging to the buck. As itreached the park, the deer was dragged to its haunches. Then, apparentlyunmindful of the interested young hunter, the lynx relaxed its hold andsprang at the throat of its victim. The cruel fangs sank deep into theflesh, and although the buck struggled desperately it was soon overcome.
Then White Otter drove his arrow through the lynx. It fell dead with thearrow through its heart. A second arrow ended the agony of the blacktailbuck. Elated at his luck the Sioux ran forward to examine his game. Helifted the head of the lynx and gazed intently into the cruel face. Thenhe addressed the dead animal and made excuses for having killed it, sothat its spirit would not depart in anger and seek to avenge itself uponhim at some future time.
"Ho, old man, you were very fierce," White Otter said, softly. "You werea good hunter. If I had not come here you would have had something goodto eat. Well, I saw you. I came here to get meat for my grandfather, thegreat chief Wolf Robe. When I saw that buck I decided to take it. Thatis why I killed you. But you must not feel bad about it. You have donemany bad things to my people. Yes, that is why I felt like killing you.You have killed many young ponies. You have driven away many deer. Youhave made it hard for our hunters to find meat. Now you know why Ikilled you. But you must not feel bad about it. Now I am going to dosomething good for you. I am going to give you some meat to take withyou on the Long Trail. Then I am going to tell my people about you. Iwill speak good words about you. Now you must feel good about thisthing."
Having complied with the ancient custom of his people, White Otteropened the carcass of the deer and placed the entrails beside the lynx.Then he packed the buck upon his pony with a long lariat of twistedrawhide and rode from the park.
When he reached the edge of the timber, White Otter stopped to searchthe plain. A prairie wolf trotted slowly from sight over a rise ofground. It was the only sign of life on the vast sage-grown waste.Assured that there was nothing to fear, White Otter set out upon hisjourney.
White Otter had covered two thirds of the distance to the Sioux campwhen his pony suddenly turned its nose toward the wind and whinniedshrilly. White Otter looked about him with considerable alarm. He feltcertain that other horses were somewhere in the vicinity. Thepossibility roused his suspicions. He dismounted and grasped his ponyby the nose to keep it silent. It was snorting and nervously watching alow grassy knoll several arrow flights away.
"There are horses behind that hill," White Otter told himself.
Two possibilities suggested themselves. Perhaps there was a small bunchof stray ponies grazing on the opposite side of