the last of the plainsmen-第7章

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〃It's　this　way；〃　began　Jones；　in　slow；　cool　voice；　〃I　engaged　you　fellows；　and　you　promised　to　stick　by　me。　We've　had　no　luck。　But　I've　finally　found　signold　sign；　I'll　admit　the　buffalo　I'm　looking　forthe　last　herd　on　the　plains。　For　two　years　I've　been　hunting　this　herd。　So　have　other　hunters。　Millions　of　buffalo　have　been　killed　and　left　to　rot。　Soon　this　herd　will　be　gone；　and　then　the　only　buffalo　in　the　world　will　be　those　I　have　given　ten　years　of　the　hardest　work　in　capturing。　This　is　the　last　herd；　I　say；　and　my　last　chance　to　capture　a　calf　or　two。　Do　you　imagine　I'd　quit？　You　fellows　go　back　if　you　want；　but　I　keep　on。〃

〃We　can't　go　back。　We're　lost。　We'll　have　to　go　with　you。　But；　man；　thirst　is　not　the　only　risk　we　run。　This　is　Comanche　country。　And　if　that　herd　is　in　here　the　Indians　have　it　spotted。〃

〃That　worries　me　some；〃　replied　the　plainsman；　〃but　we'll　keep　on　it。〃

They　slept。　The　night　wind　swished　the　grasses；　dark　storm　clouds　blotted　out　the　northern　stars；　the　prairie　wolves　mourned　dismally。

Day　broke　cold；　wan；　threatening；　under　a　leaden　sky。　The　hunters　traveled　thirty　miles　by　noon；　and　halted　in　a　hollow　where　a　stream　flowed　in　wet　season。　Cottonwood　trees　were　bursting　into　green；　thickets　of　prickly　thorn；　dense　and　matted；　showed　bright　spring　buds。

〃What　is　it？〃　suddenly　whispered　Rude。

The　plainsman　lay　in　strained　posture；　his　ear　against　the　ground。

〃Hide　the　wagon　and　horses　in　the　clump　of　cottonwoods；〃　he　ordered；　tersely。　Springing　to　his　feet；　he　ran　to　the　top　of　the　knoll　above　the　hollow；　where　he　again　placed　his　ear　to　the　ground。

Jones's　practiced　ear　had　detected　the　quavering　rumble　of　far…away；　thundering　hoofs。　He　searched　the　wide　waste　of　plain　with　his　powerful　glass。　To　the　southwest；　miles　distant；　a　cloud　of　dust　mushroomed　skyward。　〃Not　buffalo；〃　he　muttered；　〃maybe　wild　horses。〃　He　watched　and　waited。　The　yellow　cloud　rolled　forward；　enlarging；　spreading　out；　and　drove　before　it　a　darkly　indistinct；　moving　mass。　As　soon　as　he　had　one　good　look　at　this　he　ran　back　to　his　comrades。

〃Stampede！　Wild　horses！　Indians！　Look　to　your　rifles　and　hide！〃

Wordless　and　pale；　the　men　examined　their　Sharps；　and　made　ready　to　follow　Jones。　He　slipped　into　the　thorny　brake　and；　flat　on　his　stomach；　wormed　his　way　like　a　snake　far　into　the　thickly　interlaced　web　of　branches。　Rude　and　Adams　crawled　after　him。　Words　were　superfluous。　Quiet；　breathless；　with　beating　hearts；　the　hunters　pressed　close　to　the　dry　grass。　A　long；　low；　steady　rumble　filled　the　air；　and　increased　in　volume　till　it　became　a　roar。　Moments；　endless　moments；　passed。　The　roar　filled　out　like　a　flood　slowly　released　from　its　confines　to　sweep　down　with　the　sound　of　doom。　The　ground　began　to　tremble　and　quake：　the　light　faded；　the　smell　of　dust　pervaded　the　thicket；　then　a　continuous　streaming　roar；　deafening　as　persistent　roll　of　thunder；　pervaded　the　hiding　place。　The　stampeding　horses　had　split　round　the　hollow。　The　roar　lessened。　Swiftly　as　a　departing　snow…squall　rushing　on　through　the　pines；　the　thunderous　thud　and　tramp　of　hoofs　died　away。

The　trained　horses　hidden　in　the　cottonwoods　never　stirred。　〃Lie　low！　lie　low！〃　breathed　the　plainsman　to　his　companions。

Throb　of　hoofs　again　became　audible；　not　loud　and　madly　pounding　as　those　that　had　passed；　but　low；　muffled；　rhythmic。　Jones's　sharp　eye；　through　a　peephole　in　the　thicket；　saw　a　cream…colored　mustang　bob　over　the　knoll；　carrying　an　Indian。　Another　and　another；　then　a　swiftly　following；　close…packed　throng　appeared。　Bright　red　feathers　and　white　gleamed；　weapons　glinted；　gaunt；　bronzed　savage　leaned　forward　on　racy；　slender　mustangs。

The　plainsman　shrank　closer　to　the　ground。　〃Apache！〃　he　exclaimed　to　himself；　and　gripped　his　rifle。　The　band　galloped　down　to　the　hollow；　and　slowing　up；　piled　single　file　over　the　bank。　The　leader；　a　short；　squat　chief；　plunged　into　the　brake　not　twenty　yards　from　the　hidden　men。　Jones　recognized　the　cream　mustang；　he　knew　the　somber；　sinister；　broad　face。　It　belonged　to　the　Red　Chief　of　the　Apaches。

〃Geronimo！〃　murmured　the　plainsman　through　his　teeth。

Well　for　the　Apache　that　no　falcon　savage　eye　discovered　aught　strange　in　the　little　hollow！　One　look　at　the　sand　of　the　stream　bed　would　have　cost　him　his　life。　But　the　Indians　crossed　the　thicket　too　far　up；　they　cantered　up　the　slope　and　disappeared。　The　hoof…beats　softened　and　ceased。

〃Gone？〃　whispered　Rude。

〃Gone。　But　wait；〃　whispered　Jones。　He　knew　the　savage　nature；　and　he　knew　how　to　wait。　After　a　long　time；　he　cautiously　crawled　out　of　the　thicket　and　searched　the　surroundings　with　a　plainsman's　eye。　He　climbed　the　slope　and　saw　the　clouds　of　dust；　the　near　one　small；　the　far　one　large；　which　told　him　all　he　needed　to　know。

〃Comanches？〃　queried　Adams；　with　a　quaver　in　his　voice。　He　was　new　to　the　plains。

〃Likely；〃　said　Jones；　who　thought　it　best　not　to　tell　all　he　knew。　Then　he　added　to　himself：　〃We've　no　time　to　lose。　There's　water　back　here　somewhere。　The　Indians　have　spotted　the　buffalo；　and　were　running　the　horses　away　from　the　water。〃

The　three　got　under　way　again；　proceeding　carefully；　so　as　not　to　raise　the　dust；　and　headed　due　southwest。　Scantier　and　scantier　grew　the　grass；　the　hollows　were　washes　of　sand；　steely　gray　dunes；　like　long；　flat；　ocean　swells；　ribbed　the　prairie。　The　gray　day　declined。　Late　into　the　purple　night　they　traveled；　then　camped　without　fire。

In　the　gray　morning　Jones　climbed　a　high　ride　and　scanned　the　southwest。　Low　dun…colored　sandhills　waved　from　him　down　and　down；　in　slow；　deceptive　descent。　A　solitary　and　remote　waste　reached　out　into　gray　infinitude。　A　pale　lake；　gray　as　the　rest　of　that　gray　expanse；　glimmered　in　the　distance。

〃Mirage！〃　he　muttered；　focusing　his　glass；　which　only　magnified　all　under　the　dead　gray；　steely　sky。　〃Water　must　be　somewhere；　but　can　that　be　it？　It's　too　pale　and　elusive　to　be　real。　No　lifea　blasted；　staked　plain！　Hello！〃

A　thin；　black；　wavering　line　of　wild　fowl；　moving　in　beautiful；　rapid　flight；　crossed　the　line　of　his　vision。　〃Geese　flying　north；　and　low。　There's　water　here；〃　he　said。　He　followed　the　flock　with　his　glass；　saw　them　circle　over　the　lake；　and　vanish　in　the　gray　sheen。

〃It's　water。〃　He　hurried　back　to　camp。　His　haggard　and　worn　companions　scorned　his　discovery。　Adams　siding　with　Rude；　who　knew　the　plains；　said：　〃Mirage！　the　lure　of　the　desert！〃　Yet　dominated　by　a　force　too　powerful　for　them　to　resist；　they　followed　the　buffalo…hunter。　All　day　the　gleaming　lake　beckoned　them　onward；　and　seemed　to　recede。　All　day　the　drab　clouds　scudded　before　the　cold　north　wind。　In　the　gray　twilight；　the　lake　suddenly　lay　before　them；　as　if　it　had　opened　at　their　feet。　The　men　rejoiced；　the　horses　lifted　their　noses　and　sniffed　the　damp　air。

The　whinnies　of　the　horses；　the　clank　of　harness；　and　splash　of　water；　the　whirl　of　ducks　did　not　blur　out　of　Jones's　keen　ear　a　sound　that　made　him　jump。　It　was　the　thump　of　hoofs；　in　a　familiar　beat；　beat；　beat。　He　saw　a　shadow　moving　up　a　ridge。　Soon；　outlined　black　against　the　yet　light　sky；　a　lone　buffalo　cow　stood　like　a　statue。　A　moment　she　held　toward　the　lake；　studying　the　danger；　then　went　out　of　sight　over　the　ridge。

Jones　spurred　his　horse　up　the　ascent；　which　was　rather　long　and　steep；　but　he　mounted　the　summit　in　time　to　see　the　cow　join　eight　huge；　shaggy　buffalo。　The　hunter　reined　in　his　horse；　and　standing　high　in　his　stirrups；　held　his　hat　at　arms'　length　over　his　head。　So　he　thrilled　to　a　moment　he　had　sought　for　two　years。　The　last　herd　of　American　bison　was　near　at　hand。　The　cow　would　not　venture　far　from　the　main　herd；　the　eight　stragglers　were　the　old　broken…down　bulls　that　had　been　expelled；　at　this　season；　from　the　herd　by　younger　and　more　vigorous　bulls。　The　old　monarchs　saw　the　hunter　at　the　same　time　his　eyes　were　gladdened　by　sight　of　them；　and　lumbered　away　after　the　cow；　to　disappear　in　the　gathering　darkness。　Frightened　buffalo　always　make　straight　for　their　fellows；　and　this　knowledge　contented　Jones　to　return　to　the　lake；　well　satisfied　that　the　herd　would　not　be　far　away　in　the　morning；　within　easy　striking　distance　by　daylight。

At　dark　the　storm　which　had　threatened　for　days；　broke　in　a　fury　of　rain；　sleet　and　hail。　The　hunters　stretched　a　piece　of　canvas　over　the　wheels　of　the　north　side　of　the　wagon；　and　wet　and　shivering；　crawled　under　it　to　their　blankets。　During　the　night　the　storm　raged　with　unabated　strength。

Dawn；　forbidding　and　raw；　lightened　to　the　whistle　of　the　sleety　gusts。　Fire　was　out　of　the　question。　Chary　of　weight；　the　hunters　had　carried　no　wood；　and　the　buffalo　chips　they　used　for　fuel　were　lumps　of　ice。　Grumbling；　Adams　and　Rude　ate　a　cold　breakfast；　while　Jones；　munching　a　biscuit；　faced　the　biting　blast　from　the　crest　of　the　ridge。　The　middle　of　the　plain　below　held　a　ragged；　circular　mass；　as　still　as　stone。　It　was　the　buffalo　herd；　with　every　shaggy　head　to　the　storm。　So　they　would　stand；　never　budging　from　their　tracks；　till　the　blizzard　of　sleet　was　over。

Jones；　though　eager　and　impatient；　restrained　himself；　for　it　was　unwise　to　begin　operations　in　the　storm。　There　was　nothing　to　do　but　wait。　Ill　fared　the　hunters　that　day。　Food　had　to　be　eaten　uncooked。　The　long　hours　dragged　by　with　the　little　group　huddled　under　icy　blankets。　When　darkness　fell；　the　sleet　changed　to　drizzling　rain。　This　blew　over　at　midnight；　and　a　colder　wind；　penetrating　to　the　very　marrow　of　the　sleepless　men；　made　their　condition　worse。　In　the　after　part　of　the　night；　the　wolves　howled　mournfully。

With　a　gray；　misty　light　appearing　in　the　east；　Jones　threw　off　his　stiff；　ice…incased　blanket；　and　crawled　out。　A　gaunt　gray　wolf；　the　color　of　the　day　and　the　sand　and　the　lake；　sneaked　away；　looking　back。　While　moving　and　threshing　about　to　warm　his　frozen　blood；　Jones　munched　another　biscuit。　Five　men　crawled　from　under　the　wagon；　and　made　an　unfruitful　search　for　the　whisky。　Fearing　it；　Jones　had　thrown　the　bottle　away。　The　men　cursed。　The　patient　horses　drooped　sadly；　and　shivered　in　the　lee　of　the　improvised　tent。　Jones　kicked　the　inch…thick　casing　of　ice　from　his　saddle。　Kentuck；　his　racer；　had　been　spared　on　the　whole　trip　for　this　day's　work。　The　thoroughbred　was　cold；　but　as　Jones　threw　the　saddle　over　him；　he　showed　that　he　knew　the　chase　ahead；　and　was　eager　to　be　off。　At　last；　after　repeated　efforts　with　his　benumbed　fingers；　Jones　got　the　girths　tight。　He　tied　a　bunch　of　soft　cords　to　the　saddle　and　mounted。

〃Follow　as　fast　as　you　can；〃　he　called　to　his　surly　men。　〃The　buffs　will　run　north　against　the　wind。　This　is　the　right　direction　for　us；　we'll　soon　leave　the　sand。　Stick　to　my　trail　and　come　a…humming。〃

From　the　ridge　he　met　the　red　sun；　rising　bright；　and　a　keen　northeasterly　wind　that　lashed　like　a　whip。　As　he　had　anticipated；　his　quarry　had　moved　northward。　Kentuck　let　out　into　a　swinging　stride；　which　in　an　hour　had　the　loping　herd　in　sight。　Every　jump　now　took　him　upon　higher　ground；　where　the　sand　failed；　and　the　grass　grew　thicker　and　began　to　bend　under　the　wind。

In　the　teeth　of　the　nipping　gale　Jones　slipped　close　upon　the　herd　without　alarming　even　a　cow。　More　than　a　hundred　little　reddish…black　calves　leisurely　loped　in　the　rea