the outlet-第11部分

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　we　were　in　the　Indian　country；　civilized　though　the　Indians　were；　called　forth　many　an　incident。　The　raids　of　the　Comanches　into　the　Panhandle　country　during　the　buffalo　days　was　a　favorite　topic。　Vick　Wolf；　however；　had　had　an　Indian　experience　in　the　North　with　which　he　regaled　us　at　the　first　opportunity。

〃There　isn't　any　trouble　nowadays；〃　said　he；　lighting　a　cigarette；　〃with　these　blanket　Indians　on　the　reservations。　I　had　an　experience　once　on　a　reservation　where　the　Indians　could　have　got　me　easy　enough　if　they　had　been　on　the　war…path。　It　was　the　first　winter　I　ever　spent　on　a　Northern　range；　having　gone　up　to　the　Cherokee　Strip　to　avoidwell；　no　matter。　I　got　a　job　in　the　Strip；　not　riding；　but　as　a　kind　of　an　all…round　rustler。　This　was　long　before　the　country　was　fenced；　and　they　rode　lines　to　keep　the　cattle　on　their　ranges。　One　evening　about　nightfall　in　December；　the　worst　kind　of　a　blizzard　struck　us　that　the　country　had　ever　seen。　The　next　day　it　was　just　as　bad；　and　BLOODY　cold。　A　fellow　could　not　see　any　distance；　and　to　venture　away　from　the　dugout　meant　to　get　lost。　The　third　day　she　broke　and　the　sun　came　out　clear　in　the　early　evening。　The　next　day　we　managed　to　gather　the　saddle　horses；　as　they　had　not　drifted　like　the　cattle。

〃Well；　we　were　three　days　overtaking　the　lead　of　that　cattle　drift；　and　then　found　them　in　the　heart　of　the　Cheyenne　country；　at　least　on　that　reservation。　They　had　drifted　a　good　hundred　miles　before　the　storm　broke。　Every　outfit　in　the　Strip　had　gone　south　after　their　cattle。　Instead　of　drifting　them　back　together；　the　different　ranches　rustled　for　their　own。　Some　of　the　foremen　paid　the　Indians　so　much　per　head　to　gather　for　them；　but　ours　didn't。　The　braves　weren't　very　much　struck　on　us　on　that　account。　I　was　cooking　for　the　outfit；　which　suited　me　in　winter　weather。　We　had　a　permanent　camp　on　a　small　well…wooded　creek；　from　which　we　worked　all　the　country　round。

〃One　afternoon　when　I　was　in　camp　all　alone；　I　noticed　an　Indian　approaching　me　from　out　of　the　timber。　There　was　a　Winchester　standing　against　the　wagon　wheel；　but　as　the　bucks　were　making　no　trouble；　I　gave　the　matter　no　attention。　Mr。　Injun　came　up　to　the　fire　and　professed　to　be　very　friendly；　shook　hands；　and　spoke　quite　a　number　of　words　in　English。　After　he　got　good　and　warm；　he　looked　all　over　the　wagon；　and　noticing　that　I　had　no　sixshooter　on；　he　picked　up　the　carbine　and　walked　out　about　a　hundred　yards　to　a　little　knoll；　threw　his　arms　in　the　air；　and　made　signs。

〃Instantly；　out　of　the　cover　of　some　timber　on　the　creek　a　quarter　above；　came　about　twenty　young　bucks；　mounted；　and　yelling　like　demons。　When　they　came　up；　they　began　circling　around　the　fire　and　wagon。　I　was　sitting　on　an　empty　corn…crate　by　the　fire。　One　young　buck；　seeing　that　I　was　not　scaring　to　suit　him；　unslung　a　carbine　as　he　rode；　and　shot　into　the　fire　before　me。　The　bullet　threw　fire　and　ashes　all　over　me；　and　I　jumped　about　ten　feet；　which　suited　them　better。　They　circled　around　for　several　minutes；　every　one　uncovering　a　carbine；　and　they　must　have　fired　a　hundred　and　fifty　shots　into　the　fire。　In　fact　they　almost　shot　it　out；　scattering　the　fire　around　so　that　it　came　near　burning　up　the　bedding　of　our　outfit。　I　was　scared　thoroughly　by　this　time。　If　it　was　possible　for　me　to　have　had　fits；　I'd　have　had　one　sure。　The　air　seemed　full　of　coals　of　fire　and　ashes。　I　got　good　practical　insight　into　what　hell's　like。　I　was　rustling　the　rolls　of　bedding　out　of　the　circle　of　fire；　expecting　every　moment　would　be　my　last。　It's　a　wonder　I　wasn't　killed。　Were　they　throwing　lead？　Well；　I　should　remark！　You　see　the　ground　was　not　frozen　around　the　fire；　and　the　bullets　buried　themselves　in　the　soft　soil。

〃After　they　had　had　as　much　fun　as　they　wanted；　the　leader　gave　a　yell　and　they　all　circled　the　other　way　once；　and　struck　back　into　the　timber。　Some　of　them　had　brought　up　the　decoy　Indian's　horse　when　they　made　the　dash　at　first；　and　he　suddenly　turned　as　wild　as　a　Cheyenne　generally　gets。　When　the　others　were　several　hundred　yards　away；　he　turned　his　horse；　rode　back　some　little　distance；　and　attracted　my　attention　by　holding　out　the　Winchester。　From　his　horse　he　laid　it　carefully　down　on　the　ground；　whirled　his　pony；　and　rode　like　a　scared　wolf　after　the　others。　I　could　hear　their　yells　for　miles；　as　they　made　for　their　encampment　over　on　the　North　Fork。　As　soon　as　I　got　the　fire　under　control；　I　went　out　and　got　the　carbine。　It　was　empty；　the　Indian　had　used　its　magazine　in　the　general　hilarity。　That　may　be　an　Indian's　style　of　fun；　but　I　failed　to　see　where　there　was　any　in　it　for　me。〃

The　cook　threw　a　handful　of　oily　fish…bones　on　the　fire；　causing　it　to　flame　up　for　a　brief　moment。　With　the　exception　of　Wayne　Outeault；　who　was　lying　prone　on　the　ground；　the　men　were　smoking　and　sitting　Indian　fashion　around　the　fire。　After　rolling　awhile　uneasily；　Outeault　sat　up　and　remarked；　〃I　feel　about　half　sick。　Eat　too　much？　Don't　you　think　it。　Why；　I　only　ate　seven　or　eight　of　those　fish；　and　that　oughtn't　to　hurt　a　baby。　There　was　only　half　a　dozen　hard…boiled　eggs　to　the　man；　and　I　don't　remember　of　any　of　you　being　so　generous　as　to　share　yours　with　me。　Those　few　plates　of　prunes　that　I　ate　for　dessert　wouldn't　hurt　nobody　they're　medicine　to　some　folks。　Unroll　our　bed；　pardner；　and　I'll　thrash　around　on　it　awhile。〃

Several　trail　stories　of　more　or　less　interest　were　told；　when　Runt　Pickett；　in　order　to　avoid　the　smoke；　came　over　and　sat　down　between　Burl　Van　Vedder　and　me。　He　had　had　an　experience；　and　instantly　opened　on　us　at　short　range。　〃Speaking　of　stampedes；〃　said　Runt；　〃reminds　me　of　a　run　I　was　in；　and　over　which　I　was　paid　by　my　employer　a　very　high　compliment。　My　first　trip　over　the　trail；　as　far　north　as　Dodge；　was　in　'78。　The　herd　sold　next　day　after　reaching　there；　and　as　I　had　an　old　uncle　and　aunt　living　in　middle　Kansas；　I　concluded　to　run　down　and　pay　them　a　short　visit。　So　I　threw　away　all　my　trail　togswell；　they　were　worn　out；　anywayand　bought　me　a　new　outfit　complete。　Yes；　I　even　bought　button　shoes。　After　visiting　a　couple　of　weeks　with　my　folks；　I　drifted　back　to　Dodge　in　the　hope　of　getting　in　with　some　herd　bound　farther　northI　was　perfectly　useless　on　a　farm。　On　my　return　to　Dodge；　the　only　thing　about　me　that　indicated　a　cow…hand　was　my　Texas　saddle　and　outfit；　but　in　toggery；　in　my　visiting　harness；　I　looked　like　a　rank　tenderfoot。

〃Well；　boys；　the　first　day　I　struck　town　I　met　a　through　man　looking　for　hands。　His　herd　had　just　come　in　over　the　Chisholm　Trail；　crossing　to　the　western　somewhere　above。　He　was　disgusted　with　his　outfit；　and　was　discharging　men　right　and　left　and　hiring　new　ones　to　take　their　places。　I　apologized　for　my　appearance；　showed　him　my　outfit；　and　got　a　job　cow…punching　with　this　through　man。　He　expected　to　hold　on　sale　a　week　or　two；　when　if　unsold　he　would　drift　north　to　the　Platte。　The　first　week　that　I　worked；　a　wet　stormy　night　struck　us；　and　before　ten　o'clock　we　lost　every　hoof　of　cattle。　I　was　riding　wild　after　little　squads　of　cattle　here　and　there；　guided　by　flashes　of　lightning；　when　the　storm　finally　broke。　Well；　there　it　was　midnight；　and　I　didn't　have　A　HOOF　OF　CATTLE　to　hold　and　no　one　to　help　me　if　I　had。　The　truth　is；　I　was　lost。　Common　horse…sense　told　me　that；　but　where　the　outfit　or　wagon　was　was　anybody's　guess。　The　horses　in　my　mount　were　as　good　as　worthless；　worn　out；　and　if　you　gave　one　free　rein　he　lacked　the　energy　to　carry　you　back　to　camp。　I　ploughed　around　in　the　darkness　for　over　an　hour；　but　finally　came　to　a　sudden　stop　on　the　banks　of　the　muddy　Arkansaw。　Right　there　I　held　a　council　of　war　with　myself；　the　decision　of　which　was　that　it　was　at　least　five　miles　to　the　wagon。

〃After　I'd　prowled　around　some　little　time；　a　bright　flash　of　lightning　revealed　to　me　an　old　deserted　cabin　a　few　rods　below。　To　this　shelter　I　turned　without　even　a　bid；　unsaddled　my　horse　and　picketed　him；　and　turned　into　the　cabin　for　the　night。　Early　the　next　morning　I　was　out　and　saddled　my　horse；　and　the　question　was；　Which　way　is　camp？　As　soon　as　the　sun　rose　clearly；　I　got　my　bearings。　By　my　reasoning；　if　the　river　yesterday　was　south　of　camp；　this　morning　the　wagon　must　be　north　of　the　river；　so　I　headed　in　that　direction。　Somehow　or　other　I　stopped　my　horse　on　the　first　little　knoll；　and　looking　back　towards　the　bottom；　I　saw　in　a　horseshoe　which　the　river　made　a　large　bunch　of　cattle。　Of　course　I　knew　that　all　herds　near　about　were　through　cattle　and　under　herd；　and　the　absence　of　any　men　in　sight　aroused　my　curiosity。　I　concluded　to　investigate　it；　and　riding　back　found　over　five　hundred　head　of　the　cattle　we　had　lost　the　night　before。　'Here's　a　chance　to　make　a　record　with　my　new　boss；'　I　said　to　myself；　and　circling　in　behind；　began　drifting　them　out　of　the　bottoms　towards　the　uplands。　By　ten　o'clock　I　had　got　them　to　the　first　divide；　when　who　should　ride　up　but　the　owner；　the　old　cowman　himselfthe　sure　enough　big　auger。

〃'Well；　son；'　said　my　boss；　'you　held　some　of　them；　didn't　you？''yes；'　I　replied；　surly　as　I　could；　giving　him　a　mean　look；　'I've　nearly　ridden　this　horse　to　death；　holding　this　bunch　all　night。　If　I　had　only　had　a　good　man　or　two　with　me；　we　could　have　caught　twice　as　many。　What　kind　of　an　outfit　are　you　working；　anyhow；　Captain？'　And　at　dinner　that　day；　the　boss　pointed　me　out　to　the　others　and　said；　'That　little　fellow　standing　over　there　with　the　button　shoes　on　is　the　only　man　in　my　outfit　that　is　worth　a　　。'〃

The　cook　had　finished　his　work；　and　now　joined　the　circle。　Parent　began　regaling　us　with　personal　experiences；　in　which　it　was　evident　that　he　would　prove　the　hero。　Fortunately；　however；　we　were　spared　listening　to　his　self…laudation。　Dorg　Seay　and　Tim　Stanley；　bunkies；　engaged　in　a　friendly　scuffle；　each　trying　to　make　the　other　get　a　firebrand　for　his　pipe。　In　the　tussle　which　followed；　we　were　all　compelled　to　give　way　or　get　trampled　underfoot。　When　both　had　exhausted　themselves　in　vain；　we　resumed　our　places　around　the　fire。　Parent；　who　was　disgusted　over　the　interruption；　on　resuming　his　seat　refused　to　continue　his　story　at　the　request　of　the　offenders；　replying；　〃The　more　I　see　of　you　two　varmints　the　more　you　remind　me　of