LET us do justice to Black Elk, chief of the Shoshones, who acted like a true sportsman. He had witnessed the discomfiture of his sons, and could not conceal his disgust and exasperation. Little doubt that soon after the incidents described he “settled” with his heirs, not so much because of their overthrow, but because of the cowardice they had shown. Courage with the red men, no less than with our own race, is a cardinal virtue, as the lack of it is an unpardonable sin.

Victor Shelton allowed his brother to lead him away from his threatening pose in front of the chieftain of the red men. He saw the rashness of his last act, and hoped the leader would overlook it. And Black Elk not only did that, but he did more. He deliberately strode across to Victor, offered his hand, and said something, which Mul-tal-la interpreted:

“He says my brother is a brave youth; he is the master of his sons; he would be glad to adopt you and have you live with him as the one who, when he dies, shall become the leading chief of his tribe, which numbers many hundred warriors.

“Great CÆsar!” exclaimed the astonished Victor. “Give him my thanks, but tell him the thing can’t be thought of.”

Black Elk was so pleased with the boys that he still urged Mul-tal-la to go with them to his village and stay for a long time. The Blackfoot finally convinced the chief that being on his return to his own home, from which he had been absent many moons, it would not do to linger on the road. He had sad news to carry to his people and to the relatives of the companion who had met his death in the East. He would be blamed if he delayed in bearing the sorrowful message to them.

So finally the two parties separated. Black Elk shook hands with each of the three, and the grim warriors came forward and did the same. Then the Shoshones passed down the slope and headed toward the rocks on the other side of the valley, where George and Victor Shelton first caught sight of them.

The horses being ready, our friends mounted and started forward again. Their course was a little to the east of the range through which they would soon have to force their way in order to reach the Blackfoot country. Mul-tal-la explained that he had a pass in mind, which was a day’s ride away, and probably would not be entered before the following morning. It will be remembered that our friends had partaken of no food since the previous evening. None referred to it, for they could well wait until the middle or, if necessary, until the close of the day.

The weather continued favorable. Summer had come, and in the lower portions of the country the heat at midday was often oppressive. Mosquitoes had begun to annoy the travelers, who might count upon being plagued by them for the rest of their journey. These pests are more unbearable in cold regions, during the brief summer season, than in the temperate regions of a country.

The sun shone clear and strong, but the three were already upon elevated ground, and the nearness of the mountains doubtless helped to cool the air. At intervals they came upon the interesting creatures peculiar to the West and known as prairie dogs, their dwellings consisting of holes burrowed in the ground, often covering acres in extent, beside which the little animals would sit and gaze at the horsemen as they filed past. Sometimes they emitted queer whistling noises, and, upon observing anything suspicious on the part of the travelers, whisked into these openings and vanished in a twinkling. Then they could be seen peeping out, and, when the seeming danger had passed, they clambered back to their posts, as lively and watchful as ever. To-day the prairie dogs have become so harmful to agriculture in some parts of the West that the problem of extirpating them is under consideration and is a serious one.

The Blackfoot as usual kept his place at the front, while the brothers rode side by side, talking when disposed, and sometimes going for miles without exchanging more than a few sentences. This conversation revealed the fact that both did not feel entirely at ease regarding Black Elk and his Shoshones. At the time of which I am writing this tribe numbered more than five thousand people, and was one of the most important in the West. Their main villages lay to the westward of the Rocky Mountain range, about the headwaters of the stream now known as South Fork of the Lewis River. With so many warriors, it was not strange that some of their hunting parties often came through the passes in the Rockies and roamed over the level country on the east. Since they were generally provided with horses, it seemed singular that Black Elk and his companions were on foot. Mul-tal-la said beyond a doubt all owned animals, which were at no great distance.

When the Blackfoot was told by the boys of their fears, they were surprised to find that he shared them, though not to the same extent. He explained that for some time to come the chieftain’s principal emotion would be that of exasperation against his sons for the sorry showing they had made against the two white youths. They were sure to receive punishment at his hand for running away that would last them a lifetime.

But after the first burst of passion was over, Black Elk would begin to think of the two white lads that had brought this disgrace upon the royal household, and, as he mused, his resentment would kindle toward them. All the Indians not unnaturally looked upon every white man as an intruder. Though history shows that the aborigines welcomed their visitors, yet the action of the latter was so cruel that the friendship of the red men was turned to enmity. Thus most of the trappers and hunters who ventured into the West and Northwest took their lives in their hands, and many never came back from the wild solitudes. The story of the settlement of our country is a continuous one of outrage and massacre, in which the fault lay almost always at the door of the palefaces.

Black Elk could not fail to feel resentful over the fact that the disgrace of his sons had been inflicted by members of that hated race. It was quite likely, therefore, that, repenting the magnanimity he had shown, he would try to visit his vengeance upon the two youths while they were yet within reach.

The duty of our friends, therefore, was plain: they must lose no time in hurrying beyond danger. When Mul-tal-la was asked what the result would have been had the apparently honest invitation of Black Elk been accepted, the Blackfoot smiled.

“My brothers would have been treated well for a time, but they would not have lived long.”

“How would it have been with you?” asked George.

“Mul-tal-la did not hurt Young Elk or the Antelope; his skin is of the same color as Black Elk’s. They are brothers.”

This was another way of saying the Blackfoot had nothing to fear from the Shoshones. It was the boys who were in peril.

Victor more than once was tempted to ask their companion the cause of his absence the night before, but refrained after speaking to George, who told him if Mul-tal-la wished he would give the information without questioning. If he did not, it was not tactful to bother him.

The boys noted that the Blackfoot, from his place in front, occasionally turned his head and scanned the horizon, especially to the south and west.

“That means that he doesn’t believe we are through with the Shoshones,” said Victor, when his brother commented upon the action.

“If they intend any harm, I don’t see why they don’t follow us, without trying to hide from our sight. We can’t travel fast, and they wouldn’t have any trouble in overtaking us before we went many miles.”

“That isn’t the Indian fashion of doing business.”

Inasmuch as Mul-tal-la showed no such interest in studying the country they were leaving behind them, George frequently brought his spyglass into play. Whenever they reached an elevation, though of slight extent, he directed the instrument toward the points which he saw were passing under the scrutiny of their guide. The most careful study, sometimes shared with Victor, failed to reveal anything of a disturbing nature. It was well to be on guard, but it looked as if the Blackfoot was unduly suspicious.

The surface of the country became more broken, for the two were gradually entering the foothill region of that mighty range which extends over many degrees of the American continent. The air remained clear and sharp, different species of wood were met, and it was not yet noon when they halted beside one of the numerous small streams which issued from the mountains, and, frolicking and tumbling eastward, finally found its way into the Missouri and so on to the Gulf.

The water was crystalline and cold. The horses drank from it, for it was not imprudent to permit them to do so, since their gait had been moderate and they were neither too warm nor too tired. The draught was refreshing to the boys and the Blackfoot. The latter told them that if they would start a fire he would try to woo a meal from the brook, which contained numerous deep pools and abounded with eddies, where fish were sure to be found.

George and Victor set to work with animation. From the stunted pines they broke off dry twigs and fractured larger limbs into pieces until something of a pile was gathered and heaped up against a small boulder. It took some time to make the flame catch from the steel and tinder, but both had had a good deal of experience in kindling a fire in difficulties, and they succeeded in starting a blaze of no mean size.

Mul-tal-la was ready, and appeared with three fish, weighing two or three pounds apiece. They resembled salmon-trout, but were not. However, there was no doubt they would make an excellent meal, and it did not take our friends long to prepare it. As you remember, the boys had brought considerable seasoning in the form of salt and pepper, and they made sparing use of them. The Blackfoot, like the rest of his people, did not know the use of condiments in preparing his food. It would have mattered little to him had he been forced to eat his fish raw, but he had learned to show deference to the tastes of Deerfoot and other civilized persons, and often affected a fastidiousness which was foreign to him.

When the midday meal was finished Mul-tal-la borrowed the glass from George Shelton, and walking a hundred paces or so to the westward, climbed a rock and pointed the instrument to the south and west. He held his erect posture so long, with the instrument immovable, that the boys, who were watching him, were sure he had made the discovery for which he had groped so long and hoped not to make.

Such was the fact. Some five or six miles to the southwest he descried a finger of smoke climbing into the clear air, and showing distinctly against the blue sky, near the foothills. Such a sight was so common and so natural in that part of the world that it would not have caused the Blackfoot any unrest had he not noted a new and disquieting feature. The line of vapor did not climb the sky, as such lighter substance naturally does, but its course was sinuous and waving, like a ribbon held by one end and shaken out.

This proved that it was meant as a signal by those who had kindled the fire. That thin, vibratory line of smoke was a message sent for miles across the wild country, and the wireless telegram carried an important meaning. Who was sending it?

“Black Elk, the Shoshone chieftain,” was the instant answer which presented itself to the Blackfoot. Did it bear any relation to the red man and his white companions? Undoubtedly it did in the estimation of Mul-tal-la.

To whom was the message sent?

That question remained to be answered. Of course it could not be meant for Mul-tal-la and his young friends, for there was no conceivable cause for any signal of that nature. It followed, therefore, that the oscillating line of vapor was intended for other Shoshones who were in the neighborhood.

Accordingly, Mul-tal-la now began scrutinizing with the utmost care every other portion of the landscape within his field of vision. To the east and south the view extended for a long distance, but was shortened by the towering mountains to the west and northwest. Somewhere among these rugged masses must be the other wandering Shoshones, and, sooner or later, they were sure to catch sight of the signal fire, because it was too conspicuous to remain hidden for any length of time.

If the signal was seen by those for whom it was intended, they would reply much in the same manner, for the peculiar code does not admit of much variation. Perhaps the most that it could tell would be that the notice had been seen and understood. The party of the second part would then proceed to act.

Again and again the Blackfoot’s eye ranged over his field of vision, but at the end of an hour no new discovery had rewarded his efforts.