CHAPTER XIX

A NIGHT IN THE KIOWA CAMP

We reached the dugout just before noon, and after unsaddling, watering, and feeding our horses and partaking of a good dinner that Jack had prepared we saddled up again. I now rode the gray mustang, as Tom had suggested, and on one of our mules packed my bedding for the use of Captain Saunders and myself at the Indian camp. We struck out down the creek for the Kiowa camp, I leading the mule and the captain bringing up the rear. This kind of campaigning was a revelation to Captain Saunders and seemed to interest him greatly.

At the Indian camp Tom was anxiously awaiting me, and seemed surprised to see me accompanied by the officer, whom I introduced, explaining the occasion of his visit.

Under the impulse of his long and strict military training, Tom came to "attention" and saluted and seemed somewhat surprised at the captain's proffered hand. In the regular service hand-shaking between an officer and a soldier or ex-soldier would be considered a breach of army etiquette. Quickly comprehending the situation, Tom grasped the extended hand and thereafter appeared to feel on terms of perfect equality with the officer.

"I can't allow you to see old To hausen," Tom explained, "he's too sick to see company; an' I can't devote much time to your entertainment myself, captain, but I'll tell the Injuns to try an' make your visit agreeable; an' you an' Peck'll have to get along the best you can."

Tom turned to an old Indian, who, he said, was next in rank to To hausen, and explained to him in Mexican who we were and the object of our visit. The old warrior then in a loud voice made an announcement to the camp in the Kiowa tongue, after which he repeated to Tom what he had told his people.

"This old fellow," explained Tom to the captain, "is named Lobo. He told the Indians that I said: 'These two white men are our good friends. One of them is a captain of soldiers from the fort. They heard that our chief was very sick and they have come all the way from the fort to bring some more good medicine for To hausen. They are good men an', Kiowas, you must be good to 'em. Our camp an' all that we have is at their service. Make them welcome, Kiowas.'

"Now," continued Tom, "as Lobo says, 'the camp is yours.' He has given orders to his women to unsaddle your horses an' unpack your mule, an' some of the youngsters will drive your animals out an' put 'em in the herd. He has also ordered the women to clear out one half of his lodge for your use, an' your saddles an' beddin' will be carried in an' placed there, where you are to sleep. You are at liberty to go where you please about the camp, enter any lodge you choose, an' you'll find 'em all friendly and agreeable; an' you an' everything you have will be perfectly safe so long as you are their guest. Now, you'll have to excuse me, for I must go to my patient."

"By the way, how is the old chief?" asked the captain.

"Pretty feeble. His age is against him, for he must be up in the seventies. I'm getting the fever pretty well under control, and if he gets no backset I think I can pull him through. I have my bed close by him an' I try to keep the lodge at as even a temperature as possible; but I have to do most everything myself, for these Injuns can't be made to savvy how to take care of the sick. Now, I must go."

After seeing our animals sent out to the herd and our saddles and bedding taken into Lobo's lodge, we went inside, spread our bed, and then took a stroll about camp. Everything here--the Indians, their dress and habits--was new, strange, and deeply interesting to Captain Saunders, who had never before seen a wild Indian.

Noticing To hausen's dilapidated old ambulance standing near his lodge, I said:

"Captain, do you see that old government ambulance?"

"Yes," he replied, "and I have been wondering at it and was going to ask you if many of the Indians have such vehicles?"

"No. I don't know of another Indian on the plains who sports an ambulance or any other wheeled vehicle to ride in. I must tell you how he came by this one. In the spring of '59 the Kiowas were becoming restless, and disregarding the warnings and advice of the old chief, who was always friendly to the whites, they were inclined to follow the lead of Satank, who is always unfriendly. They were threatening to go on the war-path. Our command of four companies of First Cavalry, under Major John Sedgwick, was sent out on the plains from Fort Riley with orders to range along the Arkansas River to try to keep the Indians in subjection. The Pike's Peak gold excitement was at its height then, and an outbreak of the Indians would be a serious affair. Old To hausen tried hard to keep the Kiowas peaceable, but succeeded in holding only this small band of about a hundred warriors, the rest of the tribe following Satank. To hausen often visited our camps and our officers often gave him and his adherents presents. Our quartermaster, Lieutenant James B. McIntyre, had this old ambulance on hand, and, as it was about played out, he got it condemned by a board and was thinking of burning it to get rid of the old trap, when it occurred to him to make a present of it to To hausen if he would accept it. The old fellow was very much pleased to think of riding about in such a rig as our commanding officer sometimes used. Lieutenant McIntyre had his blacksmith put the old rattletrap in serviceable shape; and then put harness on a pair of the old chiefs mustangs and had them broken to work by some of the soldiers and turned the outfit over to To hausen. But neither he nor any of his men could learn to use the lines and, after a few efforts they dispensed with the lines altogether, and, putting a boy on each bronco of the team, they have since navigated the ambulance in that shape. Indian-like, they generally travel at a gallop, whether the ground is smooth or rough, and often break something, but they tie it up with rawhide to hold the parts together till they can get to Fort Larned or Fort Lyon, and then the quartermasters have their men patch it up again for the old man."

As evening approached we returned to the home of Lobo, where a good fire burning in the centre of the lodge made it quite comfortable except for the smoke that nearly blinded us; but by lying down on our blankets we found we could avoid this discomfort.

Tom dropped in for a few minutes to see how we were getting along and to tell us that under the stimulating influence of the whiskey I had brought the old chief was showing a decided improvement.

Two women had for some time been busy cooking a meat stew in a kettle that hung over the fire. After a time I brought out and gave them some coffee, sugar, and hardtack that I had brought in my saddle pocket to add to the meal. After lifting the big kettle off the fire, the women, with a great horn spoon, ladled out a dishful of the stew to each of the guests first, and then to Lobo.

We ate hungrily. Lobo was the last one to "throw up the sponge" and announce his perfect satisfaction by a prolonged Indian grunt, and then as he leaned back against a pile of bedding, he added: "Muy wano!"

Before eating I had handed a plug of tobacco to Lobo, who had whittled off enough to fill a great red-stone pipe and then returned the plug to me. I tried to induce him to keep the plug, but he declined. As Tom had intimated would be the case, a number of men dropped in after supper to call on Lobo and his white visitors, and the big red pipe was then brought out, lit with a coal of fire, and put on its travels, each taking a puff and passing it to the next.

The Indians evidently appreciated the free tobacco I was furnishing, for the pipe was soon smoked out, refilled, and emptied again and again, till all were fully sated. After this some talk was indulged in, and then the visitors went out one by one, till only the captain and I and Lobo's family remained. Saunders and I soon after removed our coats and boots and turned in.

During the evening the woman had carried in several armfuls of wood and piled it convenient to the fire in the centre of the lodge, and, the weather being quite cold, she got up several times during the night to replenish the fire.

Saunders and I were both awake by daylight, but, as our host and his family and the dogs still seemed soundly sleeping, we kept our bed for a time to avoid disturbing them. Finally, old Lobo crawled out and, wrapping his buffalo robe around him, went outside the lodge. In a few minutes we heard him, in a loud voice, haranguing the camp, and a few minutes later the camp was all astir.

After breakfast, on telling Lobo that we wished to return to our camp, two of his boys drove the herd into camp and roped our animals, which were quickly saddled and packed.

I took the remains of the plug of tobacco and the packages of sugar, coffee, and hardtack out of our saddle pockets, carried them into Lobo's lodge, and laid them down.

Captain Saunders, feeling disposed to reward the two boys for taking care of our animals, offered each a silver half dollar. Their young eyes brightened at sight of the money, for they knew it would buy them something nice at the trader's store, but a hesitating glance at Lobo seemed to decide them to refuse the proffered gifts, and with a pleasant, "No quiero, señor" ("Don't want it, sir"), which their looks belied, they turned away.

"Give them to me, captain," I said, "and I'll place them where they won't reject the money." I carried the two silver pieces into the lodge and put them with the other things. No objection was made to my leaving these presents where they could be found, but Indian hospitality forbade them openly to accept gifts from a guest.

At dinner Jack proposed that Captain Saunders and he should go out that afternoon and kill some buffalo and put out some poison. The captain was eager to go, for he was quite without experience in this form of sport. After Saunders was armed, equipped, and mounted he and Jack rode away and I turned to and attended to the dinner dishes.

It was near sunset when they got back to camp, reporting that they had killed and poisoned some buffalo, and Captain Saunders had killed also an antelope, the carcass of which he had tied on behind his saddle and brought in.

"L'ave the captain alone for the makin's of a plainsman," exclaimed Jack as he dismounted and began unsaddling. "He'll need but little more instruction from any of us. He catches on quick. He'll soon be like an old hand at the business. An' that horse of his is all right, too. Ain't a bit afeard of a buffalo an' goes at 'em like he was used to it."

"Possibly the captain has had more experience of this kind," I suggested inquiringly, "than we have supposed."

"Not a bit of it," replied Saunders. "This is actually my first glimpse of frontier life; but I have always been interested in such matters and have read everything I could find on the subject and have talked to old plainsmen and in that way have acquired some ideas of such things. I wish I could stay with you a week or two and hunt buffalo and antelope, for it is noble sport; but this isn't what Uncle Sam is paying me for, and I must go back to Fort Larned to-morrow. Still, I consider this time well spent, for the experience I am getting out here is certainly valuable to one who expects to do service on the plains."

"We shall be sorry to lose your company, captain," I replied; "but, if you are going in to-morrow, why not take your antelope along as a trophy of the trip? The weight will not be much, and we can fit it behind the cantle of your saddle and tie it on so it will ride nicely."

"Yes," added Jack, "but that will have to be done to-night, for it'll freeze hard before morning, and then you can't fit it on. I'll fix it now."

He placed Saunders's saddle upon some sacks of grain, bent the antelope carcass to fit snugly behind the cantle, tying the feet down to the cinch rings, and left it to freeze in that position.

After supper Jack played the fiddle awhile, and we sang some songs; but Saunders seemed more interested in drawing us out to tell of our soldier experiences on the frontier and kept us yarn spinning till late bedtime. In the morning, after breakfast, he struck the trail for Fort Larned.