The Captain of the Gray-Horse Troop. Garland Hamlin
Читать онлайн книгу.
the dishes. Hosy will swab 'em out."
As they were mounting, the elder Streeter said, hospitably: "If you return this way, Mr. Curtis, make my ranch your half-way house." He bowed to Jennie. "My wife will be here then, miss, and you will not be obliged to cook your own meals."
"Oh, I didn't mind; I rather enjoyed it," responded Jennie.
Calvin was delayed at the start, and came thundering after with a shrill, cowboy yell, his horse running close to the ground with ears viciously laid back. The boy made a fine figure as he swept past them with the speed of an eagle. His was the perfection of range horsemanship. He talked, gesticulated, rolled cigarettes, put his coat on or off as he rode, without apparent thought of his horse or of the ground he crossed.
He knew nothing but the life of a cattleman, and spoke quite frankly of his ignorance.
"The old man tried to send me to school once. Packed me off to St. Joe. I stayed a week. 'See here, old man, don't do that again,' I says. 'I won't stand for it.' Hell! You might as well tie up a coyote as shut me in a school-room."
He made a most picturesque guide as he rode ahead of them, always in view, completing a thousand typical combinations of man and horse and landscape – now suppling in his saddle to look down and a little backward at some "sign," now trotting straight towards a dark opening among the pines, now wheeling swiftly to mount a sudden ascent on the trail. Everything he did was as graceful and as self-unconscious as the movements of a panther. He was a living illustration of all the cowboy stories the girl had read. His horse, his saddle, his peculiar, slouching seat, the roll of clothing behind his saddle, his spurs, his long-heeled boots – every detail was as it should be, and Jennie was glad of him, and of Louis, too.
"Yes, it's all here, Jennie," replied Curtis – "the wild country, the Indian, the gallant scout, and the tender maiden."
"I'm having a beautiful ride. Since we left the wagon-road it really seems like the primitive wilderness."
"It is. This little wedge of land is all these brave people have saved from the flood. They made their last stand here. The reflux from the coast caught them here, and here they are, waiting extinction."
The girl's eyes widened. "It's tragic, isn't it?"
"Yes, but so is all life, except to Calvin Streeter, and even he wants what he can't get. He told me this morning he wanted to go to Chicago and take a fall out of a judge who fined him for carrying a gun. So even he has his unsatisfied ambition. As he told me about it he snarled like a young tiger."
At about one o'clock, Calvin, who was riding ahead, halted on the crest of a timbered ridge and raised a shout.
"He's topped the divide!" called Curtis to Jennie, who was riding behind. "We'll soon be in."
"I'm glad of it. I'm tired."
When they reached the spot where Calvin waited they could look down into the main valley of the Elk, and the agency, a singular village of ancient barracks, sheds, corrals, and red-roofed storehouses was almost beneath them. All about on the low hills the criss-crossing trails gave evidence that the Tetongs were still a nation of horsemen. Theirs was a barren land, a land of pine-clad, precipitous hills and deep valleys, which opened to the east – a region of scant rains and thin, discouraged streams.
The sight of the officers' whitewashed quarters and the parade-ground brought a certain sadness to Curtis.
"The old garrison don't look as it did when I was here in 188-," he said, musingly. "Army days in the West are almost gone. The Indian war is over. What a waste of human life it was on both sides! Yes, Louie, go ahead."
As they alternately slid and trotted down the trail, native horsemen could be seen coming and going, their gay blankets sparkling in the clear air. Others on foot were clustered about the central building, where the flag hung droopingly on a tall staff. As they passed the corral, groups of young Tetongs smiled and nudged each other, but offered no greeting. Neither did the older men, though their keen eyes absorbed every detail of the stranger's dress and bearing. It was plain that they held every white man in suspicion, especially if he came attended by a cowboy.
Calvin was elaborately free and easy with them all, eager to show his wide acquaintanceship. "Hello, Two Horns; hello, Hawk," he called to a couple of fine-looking men of middle age. They did not reply. "Hello, Gray Wolf, you old sardine; want to try another horse-race?"
Gray Wolf, evidently something of a wag, smilingly replied: "You bet. Got new pony – heap fast."
Calvin wheeled and spurred into the bunch of young fellows, who scattered with shouts of laughter, while the Captain and Jennie followed Louie, their guide, to the agency gate.
They were met at the fence before the office by two men, one a middle-aged man, with a dirty-gray beard and fat, bloated cheeks, who said, blandly: "Good-morning, sir. Good-morning, miss; nice day."
Curtis dismounted. "Are you Mr. Sennett?"
"I am – what can I do for you?" He turned to his companion, a tall young man, with innocent gray eyes and a loose, weak mouth: "This is my son Clarence. Clarence, take the lady's horse."
"Thank you," said the Captain, as he stepped inside the gate. "I am Captain Curtis, of the cavalry, detailed to take charge of this agency. You have just left the office – have you the keys in your pocket? If so, please surrender them to me. It is an unpleasant duty, but I am ordered to assume absolute control at once."
The man's red skin faded to a yellow-gray – the color of his beard. For a moment he seemed about to fall, then the blood came surging back; his cheeks grew purple with its weight.
"I'll be damned if I submit. It is an outrage!"
"You can't afford to make any trouble. I am sorry to do this, but I am under orders of the department to take you unawares, and on no account to let you return to your office."
Sennett began to bluster. "Show me your authority."
"My authority is in this paper." He drew the order from his pocket. "If you think a moment you will see that instant acquiescence is best."
While Sennett stormed, the two chiefs, Elk and Two Horns, drew near, and lifting his hand, Curtis, using the sign language swiftly, said to them:
"I am your new agent. The Great Father has heard that the old agent is bad. I am here to straighten matters out. I am Swift Eagle – don't you remember? I came with Bear Robe. I was only second lieutenant then."
The faces of the old chiefs lit up with pleasure. "Ay, we remember! We shake your hands. We are glad you have come."
Curtis then asked: "Who is your interpreter – one you can trust, one who can read this paper."
The two men looked at each other for a moment. Elk said, "Joe?"
Two Horns shook his head; then, catching sight of a man who was regarding the scene from a door-way not very distant, he said, in English: "Him – Nawson. Hay, my friend," he called, "come here!"
This observer at once responded to Two Horns' sign. As he came up the chief said: "My friend, here is a paper from Washington; read it for us."
Curtis said: "I am Captain Curtis, of the cavalry, detailed to act as agent here. This is my commission."
The stranger extended his hand. "I'm glad to meet you, Captain Curtis, very glad, indeed." As they shook hands he added: "I've read your articles on the sign language, et cetera, with great pleasure. My name is Lawson."
Curtis smiled. "Are you Osborne Lawson? I'm mighty glad to meet you. This is my sister, Mr. Lawson."
Mr. Lawson greeted Jennie with grace, and she liked him at once. His manner was direct and his voice pleasing. He was tall, lean, and a little stooping, but strong and brown. "Now, Captain, what can I do for you?" he asked, turning briskly.
"I want you to read this paper to the chiefs here, and then I intend to put a guard on the door. Mr. Sennett is not to be permitted to re-enter his office. These are harsh measures, but I am not responsible for them."
Lawson looked thoughtful. "I see." After reading the paper he said to the chiefs: "It is as this man has said. The Great Father