The Patrol of the Sun Dance Trail | Page 3

feet.
Ten miles and more they followed the tortuous trail, skirting mountain
peaks and burrowing through underbrush, scrambling up rocky ridges
and sliding down their farther sides, till they came to a park-like
country where from the grassy sward the big Douglas firs, trimmed
clear of lower growth and standing spaced apart, lifted on red and
glistening trunks their lofty crowns of tufted evergreen far above the
lesser trees.
As they approached the open country the Superintendent proceeded
with greater caution, pausing now and then to listen.
"There ought to be a big powwow going on somewhere near," he said
to his Sergeant, "but I can hear nothing. Can you?"
The Sergeant leaned over his horse's ears.
"No, sir, not a sound."
"And yet it can't be far away," growled the Superintendent.

The trail led through the big firs and dipped into a little grassy valley
set round with thickets on every side. Into this open glade they rode.
The Superintendent was plainly disturbed and irritated; irritated
because surprised and puzzled. Where he had expected to find a big
Indian powwow he found only a quiet sunny glade in the midst of a
silent forest. Sergeant Ferry waited behind him in respectful silence,
too wise to offer any observation upon the situation. Hence in the
Superintendent grew a deeper irritation.
"Well, I'll be--!" He paused abruptly. The Superintendent rarely used
profanity. He reserved this form of emphasis for supreme moments. He
was possessed of a dramatic temperament and appreciated at its full
value the effect of a climax. The climax had not yet arrived, hence his
self-control.
"Exactly so," said the Sergeant, determined to be agreeable.
"What's that?"
"They don't seem to be here, sir," replied the Sergeant, staring up into
the trees.
"Where?" cried the Superintendent, following the direction of the
Sergeant's eyes. "Do you suppose they're a lot of confounded
monkeys?"
"Exactly--that is--no, sir, not at all, sir. But--"
"They were to have been here," said the Superintendent angrily. "My
information was most positive and trustworthy."
"Exactly so, sir," replied the Sergeant. "But they haven't been here at
all!" The Superintendent impatiently glared at the Sergeant, as if he
were somehow responsible for this inexplicable failure upon the part of
the Indians.
"Exactly--that is--no, sir. No sign. Not a sign." The Sergeant was most
emphatic.

"Well, then, where in--where--?" The Superintendent felt himself
rapidly approaching an emotional climax and took himself back with a
jerk. "Well," he continued, with obvious self-control, "let's look about a
bit."
With keen and practised eyes they searched the glade, and the forest
round about it, and the trails leading to it.
"Not a sign," said the Superintendent emphatically, "and for the first
time in my experience Pinault is wrong--the very first time. He was
dead sure."
"Pinault--generally right, sir," observed the Sergeant.
"Always."
"Exactly so. But this time--"
"He's been fooled," declared the Superintendent. "A big sun dance was
planned for this identical spot. They were all to be here, every tribe
represented, the Stonies even had been drawn into it, some of the young
bloods I suppose. And, more than that, the Sioux from across the line."
"The Sioux, eh?" said the Sergeant. "I didn't know the Sioux were in
this."
"Ah, perhaps not, but I have information that the Sioux--in fact--" here
the Superintendent dropped his voice and unconsciously glanced about
him, "the Sioux are very much in this, and old Copperhead himself is
the moving spirit of the whole business."
"Copperhead!" exclaimed the Sergeant in an equally subdued tone.
"Yes, sir, that old devil is taking a hand in the game. My information
was that he was to have been here to-day, and, by the Lord Harry! if he
had been we would have put him where the dogs wouldn't bite him.
The thing is growing serious."
"Serious!" exclaimed the Sergeant in unwonted excitement. "You just

bet--that is exactly so, sir. Why the Sioux must be good for a
thousand."
"A thousand!" exclaimed the Superintendent. "I've the most positive
information that the Sioux could place in the war path two thousand
fighting-men inside of a month. And old Copperhead is at the bottom
of it all. We want that old snake, and we want him badly." And the
Superintendent swung on to his horse and set off on the return trip.
"Well, sir, we generally get what we want in that way," volunteered the
Sergeant, following his chief.
"We do--in the long run. But in this same old Copperhead we have the
acutest Indian brain in all the western country. Sitting Bull was a
fighter, Copperhead is a schemer."
They rode in silence, the Sergeant busy with a dozen schemes whereby
he might lay old Copperhead by the heels; the Superintendent planning
likewise. But in the Superintendent's plans the Sergeant had no