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But I did notice how tender he lowered himself to the back of his hawse when they lit out in the mawnin'." Bob saw that Hollister made the whole affair one huge joke. He did not mention that there had been any chance of a tragic termination to the adventure. Nor did the other punchers refer to that, though they knew the strained relations between the whites and the Utes.
It was the custom of the Utes to cross over the mountains in small squads every spring and kill all the trappers they could find and take their traps and furs. On Monday morning we all set about to cache the furs and traps that would not be used, and it took two days hard work to accomplish the task. Then I made preparations to start on my journey to Taos. Mr.
This beautiful valley has been the home of a people of a higher grade of civilization than the present Utes.
In a battle with the Utes this man knocked two enemies from the back of a war horse. The true rendering of the name Nomkahpa would be, "He knocked off two." I was well acquainted with Two Strike and spent many pleasant hours with him, both at Washington, D. C., and in his home on the Rosebud reservation.
It was every man for himself now, he reasoned in his terror. Perhaps he could creep through the willows and escape up the river without being seen. He began to edge slowly back. But that man crouched in the sunshine, tied by his wound to a spot where the Utes would certainly find him sooner or later, fascinated Bob's eyes and thoughts.
I think this must have been the first time these Utes had ever heard a gun fired, from the fact that as soon as we commenced firing at them, and that was before they could reach us with their arrows, they turned and left as fast as they had come. Consequently we lost no men or horses. We killed five Indians and captured three horses.
Seventeen years ago miners working a claim of Belllounds's in the mountains above Middle Park had found a child asleep in the columbines along the trail. Near that point Indians, probably Arapahoes coming across the mountains to attack the Utes, had captured or killed the occupants of a prairie-schooner. There was no other clue.
They wept tears of joy. They howled down his anguish with approving acclaim while they did a double hop around him as a vent to their enthusiasm. The biter had been bit. The joke had been turned against the joker, and in the most primitive and direct way. This was the most humorous event in the history of the Rio Blanco Utes. It was destined to become the stock tribal joke.
He had in this bleak hour of reckoning the virtue of indomitable gameness. "All right. You got me. Go to it, you red devils," he growled. The Utes gloated over him in a silence more deadly than any verbal threats. Their enemy had been delivered into their hands. In the grim faces of the Utes Houck read his doom. He had not the least doubt of it. His trail ended here.
"Keep close together as you run," Harry said, "and then if they do come up we can get back to back and make a fight of it." After a short pause they started. They had not gone twenty yards when a loud yell proclaimed that the Indians had seen them. They had, however, but three hundred yards to run, while the Utes were double that distance from the clump.
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