408 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[March 16, 1907. 
Lone Elk’s Search. 
(Continued from page 369 ) 
I came nearer and nearer to it was truly terrify 
ing, so loud and angry was it. And I tried to 
“It had been made plain to me that my woman 
was a captive in the camp of one of the down- 
the-river tribes, and there I must seek her. 
Many young men asked to be allowed to go with 
me on my quest, but I refused them, one and 
all, I had my mother build me a good strong 
skin boat,* and putting into it one evening the 
few things I wished to take, my weapons, some 
dried meat, a couple of ropes and a robe, I 
pushed out into the current. You know that 
such boats are difftrent from those the white 
people make. You cannot do much in them, but 
try to keep them from turning bottom side up, 
and instead of rowing you have a paddle which 
you thrust in the water ahead and draw toward 
you. It is not of much use to paddle through, 
except enough to keep in the deep water and 
clear of snags. When the wind blows hard you 
cannot do anything at all, but drift ashore and 
stay there until the wind dies out. But I felt 
as I drifted on with the current that this was 
the best way for me to travel. It was better 
than going on foot because I would not become 
tired; better than riding horseback; at the risk 
of being discovered by an enemy through sight 
of the animal while it grazed and I slept. 
“The moon had risen soon after sunset and 
gave plenty of light for me to see my way. It 
was so light that I could see the deer and other 
animals that came to the shore to drink. I saw 
too a beaver now and then swimming along, and 
sometimes when I startled one it would slap the 
water with its flat tail and dive down into the 
dark water. ‘Do not fear me, little brother,’ I 
would say. ‘Your ancient father, your great 
chief has given me help and I will never harm 
any of you; no, not if I starve.’ 
“I floated on and on until the first light of day, 
and then I hid my boat on a little green widowed 
island, spread my robe in the deep shade and 
slept until night. That is the way I traveled, 
always by night, silently and with good speed 
down the Big River. If there were war parties 
prowling along the shore they never saw me. 
For some days the country was familiar to me 
and I knew where I was all the time. Below 
the mouth of the Yellow River (Judith) be¬ 
tween it and Middle (Cow) Creek,t I had a mis¬ 
hap and nearly lost my life. I heard a loud 
roaring ahead and knew that I was approaching 
a rapid, so I looked to see that my gun and 
other things were securely tied to the willow 
frames of the boat. Not that I expected to be 
upset, but one should never take any chances of 
losing his weapons. The roar of this rapid as 
*“Bullboat,” we used to call them. They were made 
by stretching a large green buffalo bull hide over a 
circular flat-bottomed willow frame. 
tUndoubtedly Dauphin’s rapid, the worst one on the 
navigable part of the river. 
of it; but I was too late. I could not get out 
of the strong current, and all at once I was 
going up and down, whirling this way and that 
way over big and hissing white topped waves. 
And then, suddenly, a bigger wave than any I 
had gone over, picked up the boat and pushed 
it against a large, round rock. Over it went, 
and I was thrown head first into another wave. 
When I came up to the surface I could not see 
the boat, so thinking that it was ahead of me, 
I swam on with the current. It was easy work; 
almost without exertion. I kept well up on the 
surface; then I came to the end of the rapid; 
a back moving upper current of water suddenly 
struck my breast, and the current I had been in 
seized my legs and dragged me down. Struggle 
as I would I was pulled down, down, I knew 
not how far, in the dark water, and then as sud¬ 
denly I was cast up on the surface, only to be 
forced up stream and dragged down again. 
Three times I was thus whirled around, a fourth 
time I was sucked down. I was about out of breath. 
I was getting weak. ‘Oh, Ancient Beaver,’ I 
prayed, ‘pity and help me now or I drown.’ He 
did help me. When I came to the surface again 
I found myself floating down stream away from 
that terrible place. Then my feet struck a 
gravelly bottom; I waded ashore and fell down, 
weak, trembling, almost strangled. 
“Where was my boat? Even as the thought 
came to me I saw something drifting along close 
to shore. It was the boat sure enough; just one 
edge of it sticking up in sight. I arose and stag¬ 
gered out to it, dragged it to the land, and 
again laid down to rest. It was a hot night, the 
gravel I lay upon was still warm from the day's 
heat. So, although very wet I was not chilly, 
and I quickly fell asleep. Not for long though, 
but long enough to dream, and in the dream my 
shadow found my woman. She was sitting under 
a big cottonwood tree, all alone, and she was 
crying. That was all I learned. I hadn’t time 
to approach her, nor even to speak. When I 
awoke I tipped the water out of my boat, un¬ 
fastened my gun and cleaned it, drawing out the 
charge and ramming in a fresh one. It was a 
good, grooved barrel caplock rifle. Again I went 
upon my way, both thankful and angry. Thank¬ 
ful that I had escaped drowning and that my 
boat had been held in that whirling water longer 
than I had, and then floated right down to me. 
Oh, but I was angry. I had been angry all these 
days, and when one cannot satisfy his anger, 
cannot crush and destroy the one he hates, his 
anger becomes something terrible, stifling him, 
burning him, wearing away one’s flesh. How I 
longed to meet the one who had stolen my lov¬ 
ing woman. I imagined meeting him ; I thought 
of what I could do to him to most pain him, 
both in body and in mind. And that short dream. 
What did it mean? Where was the place I had 
seen her, alone, crying sadly under the big tree? 
And would I ever succeed in my search? There 
was a big country before me, inhabited by many 
tribes. In which camp was she held? Worst 
thought of all—what of my dream of the beavers 
—had my shadow really entered that home of 
the ancient ones—had they really seen my woman 
bound to a log raft floating down the river? 
It might be a mistake; perhaps she was a cap¬ 
tive in some camp far to the south, or the north 
or west. 'I will not doubt,’ I cried out, and the 
rock wall opposite answered: ‘Will not doubt.’ 
I sung the beaver song, sung it loudly, regard¬ 
less of the enemy who might be lurking over in 
the shadow of the trees and thickets. 
“One thing I had lost in the rapids, my sack 
of dried meat, and now I was sorry that I had 
not brought my bow and arrow, the noiseless 
killers. I did not like to fire a gun in that 
enemy-infested country. When daylight came I 
again cached my boat and concealed myself on 
a small island. I was very hungry, and the 
sight of some buffalo coming in to water on 
the north shore made me more hungry. There 
were deer on the little island. I saw a big buck 
drinking on the lower point of it and could 
easily have shot it, but I felt that I must not 
fire; solnething seemed to keep telling me that 
I was not alone there, that the enemy were also 
thereabout. I looked long and carefully up and 
down the river shores, at the valley slopes and 
breaks, looked for the smoke from lodges or 
camp-fire, but could see nothing suspicious. I 
spread my robe and laid down, but I could not 
sleep. I was uneasy, watchful, listening, and 
pretty soon I heard the report of a gun close 
by. I arose, crossed to the north side of the 
island and looking out through the thick bushes, 
saw a number of men standing or sitting on 
the shore near a buffalo which three or four 
of them were beginning to skin. There were 
forty-four of them, Assinaboines, as near as I 
could make out at that distance. They soon 
skinned their kill, cut what meat they wanted 
and disappeared in the timber where I soon saw 
the smoke of their camp-fire rising above the 
trees. They were such a large war party that 
they didn’t seem to care to conceal themselves; 
they kept a scout out all day though. I could 
see him sitting on a little butte at the upper 
end of the bottom. Now, suppose I had heeded 
the craving of hunger and shot the deer! That 
war party would have learned that I was on 
the island and they would have lain in wait for 
me, as I drifted along in the evening; at some 
point in my course there would have been a 
lot of shots and I would have rolled out of 
my boat and made food for the things that live 
in the deep water. Then, you see, the gods pro¬ 
tected me; they gave warning that an enemy was 
