The Quest of the Four: A Story of the Comanches and Buena Vista. Altsheler Joseph Alexander

at his side, slid away among thebushes. Phil ate contentedly. The sun rose higher.The morning was absolutely still. The horses seemed tohave had enough grass, and lay down placidly on theirsides. It occurred to Phil that he, too, had eaten enough, and he put the remainder of the food back in his hunter'sknapsack. Then he began to get drowsy again. It wasso very still. He thought once of rising and walkingabout, but he remembered Breakstone's advice to lie still, and, against his will, he kept it. Then his drowsinessincreased, and, before he was aware of it he was asleepagain.

      When Phil awoke the second time, he threw off hisblanket and sprang to his feet in surprise. The sun washigh up in the blue arch. It must be at least ten o'clockin the morning, and Bill Breakstone had not come back.The horses were on their feet and were grazing again.They were proof that nothing had disturbed the glade.But Bill Breakstone was not there. Nor had he comeback and gone away again. If he had done so, he wouldhave awakened the boy. He had been absent three orfour hours, and Phil was alarmed.

      The boy stood up, holding his hand on the hammer ofhis rifle. This beautiful day, with its blue skies aboveand its green forest below, oppressed him. It was sostill, so silent, and Bill Breakstone had vanished soutterly, just as if he had been turned into thin air by thewave of a magician's wand! The boy was alone in thewilderness for the first time. Moreover, he felt thepresence of danger, and the queer little shiver which oftencomes at such moments ran through his blood. But theshiver passed, and his courage rose. He had no thoughtof going back to the camp to report that Bill Breakstonewas missing. No, he would find him himself. That washis duty to his comrade.

      The boy waited a little longer, standing there in theshade with his rifle ready, and eyes and ears intent. Hestood thus for a quarter of an hour, scarcely moving. Thebrilliant sunshine poured down upon him, bringing outevery line of the strong young figure, illuminating theface which was thrown a little forward, as the blue eyes, gazing intently through the undergrowth, sought someevidence of a hostile presence. Finally the eyes turned tothe horses which were grazing calmly in the full circle oftheir long lariats. Phil decided that such calm on theirpart signified the absence of any enemy. If either manor beast came near they would raise their heads.

      Then Phil moved forward through the bushes, puttinginto use all his new skill and caution. The bushes closedsoftly behind him, and he entered a slope covered withgreat trees without undergrowth. His eyes could rangeforward several hundred yards, but he saw nothing. Headvanced for a few minutes, steadily descending, and hewas tempted to shout his loudest or fire off his rifle as asignal to the derelict Bill Breakstone that it was time forhim to come back. But he resisted both temptations, and soon he was glad that he had done so. The slopewas very gradual, and he traveled a full two miles beforehe came to the edge of the woods and saw before him theplain that Bill Breakstone had predicted. He took onelook, and then, springing back, sank down in the covertof the bushes.

      Before Phil lay a fairly level plain about a mile inwidth and of unknown length, as in either direction itparsed out of sight among the hills. In the center of itwas a shallow but wide creek which perhaps flowed into thenameless river. The valley was very fertile, as the grasswas already rich and high, despite the earliness of spring.

      At the widest point of the valley stood a large Indianvillage, two hundred lodges at least, and Phil could notdoubt that it was a village of the Comanches. Hundredsof ponies, grazing in the meadows to the north, andguarded by boys, proved that they were horse Indians, and no other tribe dared to ride where the Comanchesroamed.

      Phil could see far in the dazzling sunlight, and all thenormal activities of human life, that is, of wild life, seemed to prevail in the Comanche village. Evidentlythe warriors had been on a great buffalo hunt. Perhapsthey had struck at another point the same herd intowhich the train had run. Over a wide space buffalohides were pegged down. Old squaws were scraping theflesh from some with little knives, while others, alreadycleaned, were drying in the sun. Vast quantities ofbuffalo meat were being jerked on temporary platforms.Little Indian boys and girls carried in their hand bonesof buffalo or deer, from which they ate whenever they felthungry. Everywhere it was a scene of savage plenty andenjoyment, although signs of industry were not whollylacking, even among the warriors. Many of these, sitting on the grass, were cleaning their rifles or makingnew bows and arrows. Now and then one would make atest, sending into the air an arrow which some little boywas glad to run after and bring back. At another pointa number of boys were practicing at a target with smallbows and blunt-headed arrows. Two warriors on theirponies came up the valley, each carrying before him thebody of a black-tailed deer. They were received withshouts, but soon disappeared with their spoils among thelodges, which were made universally of the skin of thebuffalo. Down at the end of the village some warriors, naked to the breech cloth, danced monotonously back andforth, while an old man blew an equally monotonoustune on a whistle made of the bone of an eagle.

      Phil, lying close in his covert, watched with absorbedeyes, and with mind and vision alike quick and keen,he took in every detail. The warriors were tall men, with intelligent faces, aquiline noses, thin lips, blackeyes and hair, and but little beard. The hair grew verylong, as they never cut it, and in many cases it wasornamented with bright beads and little pieces of silver.They wore deerskin leggins or moccasins, and a cloth ofsome bright color, bought from American Mexicantraders, wrapped around the loins. The body from theloin cloth upward was naked, but in winter was coveredwith a buffalo robe. The women were physically verymuch inferior to the men. They were short and withcrooked legs. Moreover, they wore their hair cut close, being compelled to do so by tribal law, the long-hairedComanche men and the short-haired Comanche womenthus reversing the custom of civilization. Both men andwomen wore amulets. The Comanches, like most Indiantribes, were great believers in dreams, and the amuletswere supposed to protect them from such as were bad.

      Phil's roving eye lighted upon a small frame structurebuilt of slight poles, the only one in the village not ofhides. Such a building was always to be found in everyComanche village, but he did not know until later that itwas a combined medicine lodge and vapor bath house.It was spherical in shape, and securely covered withbuffalo hides. When a warrior fell seriously ill, he wasseated in this lodge, beside several heated stone ovens, onwhich water was thrown in profusion. Then, while adense, hot vapor arose, the shaman, or medicine man, practiced incantations, while men outside made music onwhistles or the Indian drums. The hot bath was ofteneffective, but the Comanche ascribed at least a part ofthe cure to the medicine man's incantations. YoungComanche men, also, often took a vapor bath before goingon the war path, thinking that it had power to protectthem from wounds.

      Then Philip saw to the right a far larger buildingthan that of the vapor bath, although it was made ofdressed skins with just enough poles to support it. Thiswas the medicine lodge of the Comanche village, a buildingused for important purposes, some of which Phil wasto learn soon.

      The boy did not doubt that his comrade had beentaken, and, unless killed, was even now a captive in theComanche village. He might be held in that hugemedicine lodge, and the boy's resolution strengthened to thetemper of steel. He could not go back to the trainwithout Bill Breakstone; so he would rescue him. He didnot yet have any idea how, but he would find a way.There were depths of courage in his nature of which hehimself did not know, and springing from this couragewas the belief that he would succeed.

      While he yet lay in the covert he saw a band ofIndians, about a dozen in number, riding up the valley.They were apparently visitors, but they were welcomedwith loud cries. The leader of the band, a large manwith brilliant feathers in his hair, replied with a shout. IThen a horseman rode forth to meet him. Even at thedistance Phil recognized the horseman as Black Panther.He, too, was arrayed in his finest, and, as a great crowdgathered, the two chiefs slowly approached each other.When their horses were side by side, Black Pantherleaned over in his saddle, put his head on the other'sshoulder, clasped his arms around his chest, and gavehim a tremendous squeeze. The stranger returned thesalute in kind, and then the two, amid great shouts ofapproval, rode among the lodges, disappearing fromPhil's sight.

      Phil watched awhile longer, but he saw nothingexcept the ordinary life of the village. Then he went backto the glen in which the horses were tethered. They werestill grazing, and Bill Breakstone had not returned. Philled them down to a little brook, let them drink, and then, after some thought, took off the lariats, coiled themaround the saddles, and turned the animals loose. Hebelieved they would stay in the glen or near it, as thepasturage was good, and the water