Bower, 1874-1940 - The heritage of the Sioux

IN THE DEVIL'S FRYING-PAN

that grove themselves, and out in the open, there was not one chance in a hundred that they could do it.

From the outside in to where they were entrenched was just a trifle easier. The Indians in the grove were all absorbed in watching the edge of the Frying-pan and had their backs to the open, never thinking that white men would be coming that way; for had not the other party been decoyed around the farther end of the big butte, and did not several miles and a barbed-wire fence lie between ?

So when Applehead and his three, coming in from the north, approached the grove, they did it under cover of a draw that hid them from sight. From the shots that were fired, Applehead guessed the truth; that Luck's bunch had sensed danger before they had actually ridden into the Frying-pan itself, and that the Navajos were trying to drive them out of the rocks, and were not making much of a success of it.

" Now," Applehead instructed the three when they were as close as they could get to the grove without being seen, " I calc'late about the best thing 269

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we kin do, boys, is t' spur up our bosses and ride in amongst 'em sbooting and a-hollerin'. Mebby we kin jest natcherlay stampede 'em — but we've sure got t' git tbrougb V git under cover migbty dang suddent, er they'll come to tbeirselves an' wipe us clean off'n the map — if tbey's enough of 'em. These here that's comin' along after us, they'll help t' swell the party, oncet they git here. I calc'late they figger 't we're runnin' head-on into a mess uh trouble, 'n' they don't want t' colleck any stray bullets—'n' that's why they've dropped back in the last half mile er so. Haze them pack bosses up this way, Pink, so'st they won't git caught up 'fore they git t' what the rest air. Best use yore six-guns fer this, boys — that'll leave ye one hand t' guide yore bosses with, and they're handier all around in close work. Air ye ready ? Then come •m — f oiler me 'n' come a-whoopin'! "

A-whooping they came, up out of the draw and in among the trees as though they had a regiment behind them. Certain crouching figures jumped, sent startled glances behind them and ran like partridges for cover farther on. Only one or two paused to send a shot at these charging fiends who 270

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seemed bent on riding them down and who yelled like devils turned loose from the pit. And before they had found safe covert on the farther fringes of the grove and were ready to meet the onslaught, the clamor had ceased and the white men had joined those others among the rocks.

So now there were nine men cornered here on the edge of the Frying-pan, with no water for their horses and not much hope of getting out of there.

" Darn you, Applehead, why didn't you keep out of this mess ? " Luck demanded with his mouth drawn down viciously at the corners and his eyes warm with affection and gratitude. " What possessed your fool heart to ride into this trap ? "

" We-ell, dang it, we had t' ride som'ers, didn't we ? " Applehead, safe behind a bowlder, pulled off his greasy, gray Stetson and polished his bald head disconcertedly. " Had a bunch uh Navvies hangin' t' our heels like tumbleweed —'n' we been doin' some riding now, I'm a tellin' ye! T Lite, here, hadn't kep' droppin' one now an' then fur the rest t' devour, I calc'late we'd bin et up, a mile er two back! "

Lite looked up from shoving more cartridges 271

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into his rifle-magazine. " If we hadn't had a real, aimon-pure go-getter to boss the job," he drawled, " I reckon all the shooting I did wouldn't have cut any ice. Ain't that right, boys ? "

Pink, resting his rifle in a niche of the boulder and moving it here and there trying to fix his sights on a certain green sweater back in the woods that he had glimpsed a minute before, nodded assent. " You're durn tootin' it's right! " he testified.

Weary looked shining-eyed at Applehead's purple face. " Sure, that's right! " he emphasized. " And I don't care how much of a trap you call this, it isn't a patching to the one Applehead busted us out of. He's what I call a Keal One, boys."

" Aw, shet yore dang head 'n' git yore rifles workin'! " Applehead blurted. " This yere ain't no time fer kiddin', 'n' I'm tellin' yuh straight. What's them fellers acrost the Fryin'-pan think they're tryin' t' do ? Luck le's you'n me make a few remarks over that way, 'n' leave the boys t' do some gun-talk with these here babies behind us. Dang it, if I knowed of a better place 'n' what this is fer holdin' 'em off, I'd say make a run fer it. J3ut I don't 'n' that's fact. Yuh musta sprung the 272

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trap 'fore yuh got inside, 'cause they shore aimed t' occupy this nest uh rocks theirselves, with you fellers down there in the Fryin'-pan where they could git at yuh.

" Thar's one of 'em up on the rim-rock — see 'im ? — standin' thar, by granny, like he was darin' somebody t' cut loose! Here, Lite, you spill some lead up thar. We'll learn 'im t' act up smart —"

" Hey, hold on! " Luck grabbed Lite's arm as he was raising his rifle for a close shot at the fellow. " Don't shoot! Don't you see ? That's the peace-sign he's making! "

" Well, now, dang it, he better be makin' peace signs! " growled Applehead querulously, and sat down heavily on a shelf of the rock. " 'Cause Lite, here, shore woulda tuk an ear off'n him in another minute, now I'm tellin' ye! "

CHAFTEK XIX

PEACE TALK

ACEOSS the Frying-pan an Indian stood boldly out upon a jutting point of rock and raised a hand in the sweeping upward motion of the peace-sign. The questing bullets that came seeking for bone and flesh among the rocks and bushes came no more when the signal was passed from those who saw to those farther back who could not see the figure silhouetted against the brilliant blue of the sky. A moment he stood, made the sign again, and waited.

" That's peace-sign, sure as you're born! " Luck cried breathlessly, and went scrambling through the bushes to where he might stand in the open, on the very rim of the basin. Applehead yelled to him to come back and not make a dang fool of himself, but Luck gave no heed to the warning. He stood out in the blazing sunshine and gave the peace-sign in reply.

On the-rim rock the Indian stood motionless 274

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while he might have taken three or four breaths. Then with his hand he gave the sign for " powwow " and waited again.

Luck, his pulse thrilling at the once familiar gesture which his tribal " father," old chief Big Turkey, used to give when he came stalking up for his daily confab with his adopted son, gave back the sign with a hand that trembled noticeably. Whereupon the Indian on the farther rim turned and began dignifiedly to climb through a rift in the ledge down into the Frying-pan.

" He wants a pow-wow," Luck called back to the bunch. " You fellows stay where you're at — I'm going out there in the middle and talk to him."

" Now, Luck, don't let 'em make a dang monkey outa ye," Applehead protested anxiously. " Injuns is tricky —"

"That's all right. You can keep a couple of rifles sighted on that old chief — that's what he is, I take it, from his actions and his talking ' sign '— and then if they pot me, you can pot him. But they won't. I know Injuns better than you do, Applehead. He just wants to talk things over — and I'm certainly willing that he should! " 275

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" Well, Lite, you keep your sights lined up on that Injun, then. 'N' if they's a crooked move made towards Luck, you cut loose —'n' say 1 You shoot to kill, this time! " He shook his finger in Lite's face admonishingly. " 'S all right t' nip 'em here 'n' take a hunk out there jest t' kinda take their minds off'n us —'s all right enough so fur, 'n' I ain't kickin' none 'cause yuh ain't killed off yuh hit. But if this here's a trick t' git Luck, you kill that Injun. 'N"' if you don't do it I'll go out there m'self 'n' choke the dang skunk t' death! "