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Updated: June 5, 2025
The posts which the general was to inspect had recently been established along a military road, one end of which was at the North Platte and the other there was no other end; up about Fort C.F. Smith at the foot of the Big-Horn Mountains the road became a buffalo trail and was lost in the weeds.
Not more than three hundred yards beyond them, on the crest of a rocky ledge that came out from the mountain-side like an abutment, stood a big-horn antelope. He had seen One-eye and was looking at him. He may have been studying whether or not it could be needful for an antelope away up where he was to spring away any farther from a dog and an Indian boy.
There he set him free again, and sat down to watch him. Ho! It made OLD-man dizzy to watch the Big-Horn run about on the ragged cliffs. He saw at once that this was the country the Big-Horn liked, and he left him there. Yes, he left him there forever, and there he stays, seldom coming down to the lower country.
Our friends were somewhat disappointed on finding that we had brought a couple of living animals instead of the fat venison or buffalo they had expected. We, however, relieved their minds by telling them that we had left the meat of a couple of wapiti and a big-horn sheep en cache, and Martin and another man were sent off with the horses to bring it in. We had now to dispose of our captives.
The boys were about to commence skinning them, when Basil and Francois remembered what they had observed just before firing; and, curious to convince themselves whether the big-horn had actually tumbled over the cliff by accident or leaped off by design, they walked forward to the spot.
The same animal, I believe, is found in Siberia, and is allied to the Big-horn of North America.
So instead they called a meeting to which everybody except Big-Horn was invited. If Big-Horn could have heard all that was said about him, his ears surely would have burned. Every one was of the opinion that something must be done, but just what no one could suggest. At last, just when it seemed that the meeting would break up without anything being done, Old Man Coyote stepped forward.
He was doubtless right on the main point, but not a stone of the many he smelled under turned him out a cougar or a big-horn. Hunting was over for that day, and so much time had been consumed that Two Arrows felt like running to make it up. He did but walk, however, and as the road was now all the way downhill, like a bad man's life, he walked easily.
The blood marks on her chin and throat might very well be accounted for on the supposition that, instead of following her master, she had gone aside from the trail to give chase to some large animal a mountain goat or a big-horn antelope, and that she had attacked and perhaps killed it, as she had been trained to do when out deer-stalking in her native Highlands of Scotland.
It was way back in those long-ago days that they became curved and quite useless for fighting, and all because of old Big-Horn going about with a chip on his shoulder." Peter pricked up his ears. "That was a funny thing for Big-Horn to be doing," said he. "What under the sun did he have a chip on his shoulder for? And what harm was there in that, even if he did?" Once more Digger began to laugh.
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