Adventure Magazine Cover — page 119: what you’re looking at

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

_ Gentlemen of the North strong force they might recklessly risk an encounter with Mandan or Minnetaree. Been) AHEAD were the steep red banks () of the Missouri. At our feet were P= two cows freshly slain. Flat Mouth inspected them, and for the first time since our flight from the Cheyenne his immobile features showed animation. “The brains have been taken to dress hides. Hunters did it, not a war-party after meat. Only Mandans hunt here.” The Assiniboins had been lost to sight fora day. In their place we were dreading a Sioux war-party, for the Sioux hung closely about the Mandan villages, seeking to pick off a victim or two. To the north of the villages was a stretch of timber, and in this cover small bands of the Sioux would hide and wait for days, being satisfied if they killed a lone hunter or a woman. We had passed through the rough country of the Couteau and had an excellent view of the river in the southeast. Flat Mouth insisted we were too far down-stream and said we must cross a high and precipitous bank on our right. To me it seemed a needless exertion, as we could round the end of the ndge by skirting its base until it broke off at the river, but the chief felt the menace of the Sioux and must have his way. I did not believe the horses could make the ridge, for the soil was glutinous mud from the spring rains. The Pillager dismounted to demonstrate what an Indian pony could do and with the beast scrambling like a cat he led the way up the slope. Miss Dearness made light of it, although she was forced to climb it afoot. On reaching the top we had a more intimate view of the river. The valley was some two miles in width and caged in by steep banks. The current was sluggish and swollen, dotted with much driftwood and many black dots which I knew to be drowned buffalo. Imme- diately below us was a growth of big cotton- woods, and from our position to these woods ran a well-beaten path. For the first time since our race began, I presumed to take the lead, but before I could do more than press ahead to the brow of the ridge, Flat Mouth was halting me and explaining that the way was full of dangers and that he must go first. I placed my gun across my saddle, but the danger was not animate and consisted 105 of certain deep holes, or pits the Indians had dug for trapping fox and wolves. These pits were ten or more feet deep, with the openings masked by the dead grass. We descended slowly and cautiously, skirting several of these menaces, and I know I should have plunged into the first one, had I had my way. At the foot of the ridge the Pillager reined in and warned: “We must say we have come from Fort Assiniboin, that the Medicine Hair is the daughter of the big white chief there and that we work for him. The big white chief wishes to open a post here and sends his daughter because her medicine lets her see things we men can not see. He has told us to stay but a few days and to ask for warriors to go back with us as far as the Mouse. The Mandans must not know we were driven here by the Assiniboins. They would think the white woman’s medicine was weak and that her father was a little chief if they knew the Assini- boins had made us run.” “Why can’t we start back as soon as we get fresh horses?” I anxiously asked, my mind reverting to the incompetent Probos in charge of the post and to old Tabashaw bullying him for rum. ‘And why must we travel by the way of the Mouse?” demanded Miss Dearness, referring to the long route to the confluence of the Mouse and the Qu’Appelle, thence down the Assiniboin to the Forks, where we would turn south up the Red. “We must stay and look about, as if look- ing for a good place for a post,” Flat Mouth patiently explained. Then to the girl— ‘‘We must come from Fort Assiniboin to show why we are here. We must go back the same way to make our talk sound straight. Even if we could pick our trail we must return by way of the Mouse and the Assiniboin. It is the regular path and safer.”’ | I told Miss Dearness the chief was right and that a few days wouldn’t make much difference, that we ought to be thankful at having escaped the Sioux and the Assiniboins—this to cheer her up. “Oh, we will go through with it,” she wearily replied. “I was thinking of you and your affairs more than of mine. I have no trade to lose. Angus can watch the: post till I get back or my successor arrives.” With our story understood we started Gomichbooks.com a