John Ermine of the Yellowstone Read Free Page A

hillside, but he held him there and
opened.
    “Gentlemen, if this yar outfit goes a-chargin’ into that bunch of Injuns, them Injuns aforesaid is sure goin’ to shoot at us, and we are naturally goin’ to shoot back at
them. Then, gentlemen, there will be a fight, they will get a bunch of us, and we will wipe them out. Now, our esteemed friend yer, Mr. Chick-chick, savvies Injuns, as you know, he bein’
somewhat their way hisself—allows that they will chill that poor little boy with a knife the first rattle out of The Chairman the box. So, gentlemen, what good does it all do? Now,
gentlemen, I allows if you all will keep down yer under the hill and back our play, Chick-chick and me will go into that camp and get the boy alive. If these Injuns rub us out, it’s your
move. All what agrees to this motion will signify it by gettin’ down off’en their horses.”
    The Chairman
    Slowly man after man swung to the ground. Some did not so readily agree, but they were finally argued off their horses. Whereat the big chairman sang out: “The ayes have it. Come on, Mr.
Chick-chick.”
    These two rode up the hill and over the mesa, trotting along as they talked. “Now, Chick-chick, I don’t know a heap about Injuns. The most that I have seen of them was over the
sights of a rifle. How are we goin’ at this? Do you habla Crow lingo, Señor?”
    “No,” replied that much mixed-blooded man, “I no cumtux Crow, but I make the hand talk, and I can clean up a ten-ass Chinook; all you do is to do
nothing—you no shake hands, you say nothing, until we smoke the pipe, then you say ‘How?’ and shake hands all same white man. You hang on to your gun—suppose they try take
it away—well, den, icta-nica-ticki, you shoot! Then we are dead.” Having laid his plan of campaign before his brother in arms, no more was said. History does not relate what was
thought about it.
    They arrived in due course among the tepees of a small band of Crows. There were not probably a hundred warriors present, but they were all armed, horsed, and under considerable excitement.
These Crows were at war with all the other tribes of the northern plains, but maintained a truce with the white man. They had very naturally been warned of the unusual storm of horsemen bearing in
their direction, and were apprehensive concerning it. They scowled at the chairman and Mr. Chick-chick, who was an Oregon product, as they drew up. The latter began his hand-language, which was
answered at great length. He did not at once calm the situation, but was finally invited to smoke in the council lodge. The squaws were pulling down the tepees; roping, bundling, screaming,
hustling ponies, children, and dogs about, unsettling the statesmen’s nerves mightily as they passed the pipe. The big chairman began to fancy the Indians he had seen through the sights more
than these he was regarding over the pipe of peace. Chick-chick gesticulated the proposition that the white papoose be brought into the tent, where he could be seen.
    The Indians demurred, saying there was no white boy—that all in the camp were Crows. A young warrior from outside broke into their presence, talking in a loud tone. An old chief looked out
through the entrance-flap, across the yellow plains. Turning, he inquired what the white horsemen were doing outside.
    He was told that they wanted the white boy; that the two white chiefs among them would take the boy and go in peace, or that the others would come and take him in war. Also, Chick-chick
intimated that he must klat-a-way. The Indians made it plain that he was not going to klat-a-way; but looking abroad, they became more alarmed and excited by the cordon of whites
about them.
    “When the sun is so high,” spoke Chick-chick, pointing, and using the sign language, “if we do not go forth with the boy, the white men will charge and kill all the Crows. One
white boy is not worth that much.”
    After more excitement and talk, a youngish