Adventure Magazine Cover — page 118: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

104 retorted the chief. “I killed some of them, and the gun killed some. When they see how they were tricked only one torture will satisfy them. Wait while I look at the river.”’ He glided down the rough and heavily timbered bank. While he was gone I strained my eyes, seeing an enemy in every bush and stump. At last he returned and, without speaking, led his pony down the slope. I estimated our position to be directly south of the Lac du Diable country and I knew, from talks with the post Indians, that the river woods we were now traversing thinned out into scattering willows a few miles farther west. The river was once occupied by the Cheyennes who served as a barrier between the Sioux and the Chippewas, being neutral to both. More than half a century before, the Chippewas, a very jealous people by nature, got the idea the neutrals were favoring the Sioux in trade. ing from an unsuccessful expedition, a war- party of Chippewas fell on a Cheyenne village and killed many. The Cheyennes promptly migrated across the Missouri, and since then the red shadow of the Sioux has hung over the Chippewas, with no neutral nation between to minimize the shock of an attack. The crossing was not difficult and we made it easily and surmounted the opposite bank, but left a trail a bull buffalo could read. Flat Mouth held up his hand for silence and cocked his ear. I heard nothing beyond the usual noise of wood life. “They’re following our trail,” he warned. “Tf we stick to the woods they will overtake us. Our only chance is to take to the open now and ride for it. Our horses are fresh, theirs are tired. Once on the plain, we can leave them.” “But they’ll chase us?” asked the girl. He nodded and, to cheer her up, added: ‘‘We shall find some Mandans, or some of the Big Bellies (Minnetarees) hunting buffalo. They will help us.” We broke through the timber and started for the southwest at a gallop. We had gone not more than a fourth of a mile when a ringing cry sounded behind us. Glancing back, I beheld a warrior dancing and waving his arms at the edge of the timber. We had not advanced more than half a mile before nearly a hundred horsemen emerged from the woods. While return-. Adventure Flat Mouth was worried, for well he knew that it would take more than an ordinary hunting party to stand off such a force. At the start the chances favored us, as our animals were well rested, whereas the enemy’s had been ridden far and fast. There was no question as to our maintain- ing a safe lead, providing none of our animals met with an accident. Realizing this my eyes became focused on the flying feet of Miss Dearness’ mount. At every stride I expected to see a hoof stick into a hole and hurl her to the ground, leaving one of our mounts to carry double. I glanced back once more and beheld even more warriors quitting the woods. Flat Mouth grimly explained: “Big war-party going to fight the Mandans. We shall have them all the way.” He insisted it was the medicine of the girl’s hair that permitted us to drop them before night came. I felt a great uplift when, with the last light, I failed to make out their figures against the northern sky-line. The chief quietly assured me they would be on our trail in the morning. We camped that night in the bed of a dry coulée. The chief managed to kill a buffalo calf with his bow and arrow, and we ven- tured to build a small fire, fencing it about with our white robes. Over this we broiled some excellent steaks and cooked enough to carry with us on the morrow. At daybreak we were up, and beheld figures creeping over the horizon. The country grew rougher with each hour, and we lost the Assiniboins only when we dropped into the hollows. On surmounting ridge or hillock we raised them to view again, tenaciously sticking to our. track. Flat Mouth had eyes only for what was ahead, seeking for some oppor- tunity of shaking the enemy off. I was always staring behind me, fascinated by the implacable purpose that held the savages to the chase. The girl rode with head bowed, seldom bothering to lift her gaze from the ground. Her fear was an accident to her pony. We began to encounter coulées filled with water, each a sign-post for the Couteau du Missouri, the rough and hilly country we must cross before descending to the Mis- sourl River. The Pillager believed the Assiniboins would not venture beyond this height of land. Yet they were in such — GEomichooks. co