A Daughter of the Sioux: A Tale of the Indian frontier

  CHAPTER XV

  A WOMAN'S PLOT

  Woman's intuition often far outstrips the slower mental process of theother sex. The mother who has to see a beloved daughter's silentsuffering, well knowing another girl to be, however indirectly, thecause of it, sees all manner of other iniquities in that other girl.Kind, charitable and gentle was Mrs. Dade, a wise mother, too, as wellas most loving, but she could look with neither kindness nor charity onMiss Flower. She had held her peace; allowed no word of censure orcriticism to escape her when the women were discussing that young lady;but all the more vehement was her distrust, because thus pent up andrepressed. With the swiftness of feminine thought, for no man had yetsuspected, she fathomed the secret of the trader's sudden going; and,carried away by the excitement of the moment and the belief that nonebut her husband could hear, she had made that startling announcement.And her intuition was unerring. Nanette Flower was indeed gone.

  Yet for nearly an hour she stood alone in her conviction. Her husbandquickly cautioned silence, and, going forth, gave instructions to thecouriers that sent them speeding for the Rawlins road. But at seveno'clock Mrs. Hay herself appeared and asked to see the general, who wastaking at the moment his accustomed bracer, tonic and stimulant,--theonly kind he was ever known to use--a cold bath. So it was to Mrs. Dade,in all apparent frankness and sincerity, the trader's wife began hertale.

  Everyone at Frayne well knew that her anxiety as to the outcome of thebattle on the Elk had well nigh equalled that of the wives andsweethearts within the garrison. While her niece, after the first day'sexcitement, kept to her room, the aunt went flitting from house tohouse, full of sympathy and suggestion, but obviously more deeplyconcerned than they had ever seen her. Now, she seemed worried beyondwords at thought of her husband's having to go at just this time. It wasmainly on Nanette's account, she said. Only last night, with the mailfrom Laramie, had come a letter posted in San Francisco the week before,telling Miss Flower that her dearest friend and roommate for four yearsat school, who had been on an extended bridal tour, would pass throughRawlins, eastward bound, on Friday's train, and begging Nanette to meether and go as far at least as Cheyenne. Her husband, it seems, had beenhurriedly recalled to New York, and there was no help for it. Nanettehad expected to join her, and go all the way East in late October orearly November; had given her promise, in fact, for she was vastlyexcited by the news, and despite headache and lassitude that hadoppressed her for two days past, she declared she must go, and UncleWill must take her. So, with only a small trunk, hastily packed, of herbelongings, and an iron-bound chest of the trader's, the two had startedbefore dawn in Uncle Bill's stout buckboard, behind his famous four muleteam, with Pete to drive, and two sturdy ranchmen as outriders, hopingto reach the Medicine Bow by late afternoon, and rest at Brenner'sRanch.

  Confidentially, Mrs. Hay told Mrs. Dade that her husband was glad of theexcuse to take the route up the Platte instead of the old, rough trailsoutheastward over the mountains to Rock Creek, for he had a large sumin currency to get to the bank, and there were desperados along themountain route who well knew he would have to send that money in, andwere surely on lookout to waylay him--or it. Ever since pay-day two orthree rough characters had been hanging about the store, and Haysuspected they were watching his movements, with the intention ofgetting word to their comrades in crime the moment he started, and itwas almost as much to steal a march on them, as to oblige Nanette, he sowillingly left before it was light. The Rawlins road followed the PlatteValley all the way to Brenner's, and, once there, he would feel safe,whereas the Rock Creek trail wound through gulch, ravine and forest mostof the distance, affording many a chance for ambuscade. Of course, saidMrs. Hay, if her husband had for a moment supposed the general wouldwish to see him, he would not have gone, adding, with just a littletouch of proper, wifelike spirit, that on the general's previous visitshe had never seemed to care whether he saw Mr. Hay or not.

  All this did Mrs. Dade accept with courteous yet guarded interest. Theywere seated in the little army parlor, talking in low tone; for, withunfailing tact, Mrs. Hay had asked for Esther, and expressed hersympathy on hearing of her being unnerved by the excitement throughwhich they had passed. Well she knew that Field's serious condition hadnot a little to do with poor Esther's prostration, but that wasknowledge never to be hinted at. Dade himself she did not wish to meetjust now. He was too direct a questioner, and had said and looked thingsabout Nanette that made her dread him. She knew that, however austereand commanding he might be when acting under his own convictions, he wasabnormally susceptible to uxorial views, and the way to win thecaptain's sympathies or avert his censure, was to secure the kindlyinterest of his wife. Mrs. Hay knew that he had sent couriers off by theRawlins road--a significant thing in itself--and that couriers had comein from the north with further news from Webb. She knew he had gone tothe office, and would probably remain there until summoned forbreakfast, and now was her time, for there was something further to bespoken of, and while gentle and civil, Mrs. Dade had not been receptive.It was evident to the trader's wife that her lord and master had made amistake in leaving when he did. He knew the general was on the way. Heknew there was that money business to be cleared up, yet she knew therewere reasons why she _wanted_ him away,--reasons hardest of all toplausibly explain. There were reasons, indeed, why she was glad Nanettewas gone. All Fort Frayne was devoted to Esther Dade and, howeverunjustly, most of Fort Frayne,--men, women and children,--attributedField's defection, as they chose to call it, to Nanette--Nanette who hadset at naught her aunt's most ardent wishes, in even noticing Field atall. Money, education, everything she could give had been lavished onthat girl, and now, instead of casting her net for that well-to-do anddistinguished bachelor, the major, thereby assuring for herself theproud position of first lady of Fort Frayne, the wife of the commandingofficer, Nanette had been deliberately throwing herself away at abeardless, moneyless second lieutenant, because he danced and rode well.Mrs. Hay did not blame Mrs. Dade at that moment for hating the girl, ifhate she did. She could have shaken her, hard and well, herself, yet wasutterly nonplussed to find that Nanette cared next to nothing how badlyField was wounded. What she seemed to care to know was about thecasualties among the Sioux, and, now that Stabber's village, the lastliving trace of it, old men, squaws, children, pappooses, ponies andpuppies and other living creatures had, between two days, been whiskedaway to the hills, there were no more Indians close at hand to whisperinformation.

  She was glad Nanette was gone, because Field, wounded and present, wouldhave advantages over possible suitors absent on campaign--because allthe women and a few of the men were now against her, and because fromsome vague, intangible symptoms, Mrs. Hay had satisfied herself thatthere was something in the wind Nanette was hiding even from her--herbenefactress, her best friend, and it seemed like cold-bloodedtreachery. Hay had for two days been disturbed, nervous and unhappy, yetwould not tell her why. He had been cross-questioning Pete, "Crapaud"and other employees, and searching about the premises in a way thatexcited curiosity and even resentment, for the explanation he gave wasutterly inadequate. To satisfy her if possible, he had confided, as hesaid, the fact that certain money for which Lieutenant Field wasaccountable, had been stolen. The cash had been carefully placed in hisold-fashioned safe; the missing money, therefore, had been taken whilestill virtually in his charge. "They might even suspect me," he said,which she knew would not be the case. "They forbade my speaking of it toanybody, but I simply had to tell you." She felt sure there wassomething he was concealing; something he would not tell her; somethingconcerning Nanette, therefore, because she so loved Nanette, he shrankfrom revealing what might wound her. Indeed, it was best that Nanetteshould go for the time, at least, but Mrs. Hay little dreamed thatothers would be saying--even this kindly, gentle woman before her--thatNanette should have stayed until certain strange things were thoroughlyand satisfactorily explained.

  But the moment she began, faltering not a little, to speak of mattersat
the post, as a means of leading up to Nanette--matters concerningLieutenant Field and his financial affairs,--to her surprise Mrs. Dadegently uplifted her hand and voice. "I am going to ask you not to tellme, Mrs. Hay," said she. "Captain Dade has given me to understand therewas something to be investigated, but preferred that I should not askabout it. Now, the general will be down in fifteen or twenty minutes. Isuggest that we walk over the hospital and see how Mr. Field is gettingon. We can talk, you know, as we go. Then you will breakfast with us.Indeed, may I not give you a cup of coffee now, Mrs. Hay?"

  But Mrs. Hay said no. She had had coffee before coming. She would go andsee if there was anything they could do for Field, and would try againto induce Mrs. Dade to listen to certain of her explanations.

  But Mrs. Dade was silent and preoccupied. She was thinking of that storyof Nanette's going, and wondering whether it could be true. She waswondering if Mrs. Hay knew the couriers had gone to recall Hay, and thatif he and Nanette failed to return it might mean trouble for both. Shecould accord to Mrs. Hay no confidences of her own, and had beencompelled to decline to listen to those with which Mrs. Hay would havefavored her. She was thinking of something still more perplexing. Thegeneral, as her husband finally told her, had asked first thing to seeHay, and later declared that he wished to talk with Mrs. Hay and seeNanette. Was it possible he knew anything of what she knew--thatbetween Hay's household and Stabber's village there had beencommunication of some kind--that the first thing found in the Indianpouch brought home by Captain Blake, was a letter addressed in NanetteFlower's hand, and with it three card photographs, two of them ofunmistakable Indians in civilized garb, and two letters, addressed, likehers, to Mr. Ralph Moreau,--one care of the Rev. Jasper Strong,Valentine, Nebraska, the other to the general delivery, Omaha?

  Yes, that pouch brought in by Captain Blake had contained matter tooweighty for one woman, wise as she was, to keep to herself. Mrs. Blake,with her husband's full consent, had summoned Mrs. Ray, soon after hisdeparture on the trail of Webb, and told her of the strange discovery.They promptly decided there was only one thing to do with theletter;--hand or send it, unopened, to Miss Flower. Then, as Blake hadhad no time to examine further, they decided to search the pouch. Theremight be more letters in the same superscription.

  But there were not. They found tobacco, beeswax, an empty flask that hadcontained whiskey, vaseline, Pond's Extract, salve, pigments, a fewsheets of note paper, envelopes and pencil--odd things to find in thepossession of a Sioux--a burning glass, matches, some quinine pills,cigars, odds and ends of little consequence, and those letters addressedto R. Moreau. The first one they had already decided should go to MissFlower. The others, they thought, should be handed unopened to thecommanding officer. They might contain important information, now thatthe Sioux were at war and that Ralph Moreau had turned out probably tobe a real personage. But first they would consult Mrs. Dade. They haddone so the very evening of Blake's departure, even as he, long milesaway, was telling Kennedy his Irish heart was safe from the designs ofone blood-thirsty Sioux; and Mrs. Dade had agreed with them thatNanette's letter should be sent to her forthwith, and that, as CaptainBlake had brought it in, the duty of returning the letter devolved uponhis wife.

  And so, after much thought and consultation, a little note was written,saying nothing about the other contents or about the pouch itself. "DearMiss Flower:" it read. "The enclosed was found by Captain Blake sometime this morning. He had no time to deliver it in person. Yourssincerely. N. B. Blake."

  She would enter into no explanation and would say nothing of theconsultation. She could not bring herself to sign her name as usuallyshe signed it, Nannie Bryan Blake. She had, as any man or woman wouldhave had, a consuming desire to know what Miss Flower could be writingto a Mr. Moreau, whose correspondence turned up in this remarkable way,in the pouch of a painted Sioux. But she and they deemed it entirelyneedless to assure Miss Flower no alien eye had peered into themysterious pages. (It might have resulted in marvellous developments ifMiss Flower thought they had.) Note and enclosure were sent first thingnext morning by the trusty hand of Master Sanford Ray, himself, and byhim delivered in person to Miss Flower, who met him at the trader'sgate. She took it, he said; and smiled, and thanked him charminglybefore she opened it. She was coming out for her customary walk at thehour of guard mounting, but the next thing he knew she had "scooted"indoors again.

  And from that moment Miss Flower had not been seen.

  All this was Mrs. Dade revolving in mind as she walked pityingly by theside of the troubled woman, only vaguely listening to her flow of words.They had thought to be admitted to the little room in which the woundedofficer lay, but as they tiptoed into the wide, airy hall and lookedover the long vista of pink-striped coverlets in the big ward beyond,the doctor himself appeared at the entrance and barred the way.

  "Is there nothing we can do?" asked Mrs. Dade, with tears in her voice."Is he--so much worse?"

  "Nothing can be done just now," answered Waller, gravely. "He has hadhigh fever during the night--has been wakeful and flighty again.I--should rather no one entered just now."

  And then they noted that even the steward who had been with poor Fieldwas now hovering about the door of the dispensary and that only Dr.Waller remained within the room. "I am hoping to get him to sleep againpresently," said he. "And when he is mending there will be a host ofthings for you both to do."

  But that mending seemed many a day off, and Mrs. Hay, poor woman, hadgraver cares of her own before the setting sun. Avoiding the possibilityof meeting the general just now, and finding Mrs. Dade both silent andconstrained at mention of her niece's name, the trader's wife wentstraightway homeward from the hospital, and did not even see the postcommander hurrying from his office, with an open despatch in his hand.But by this time the chief and his faithful aide were out on theveranda, surrounded by anxious wives and daughters, many of whom hadbeen earnestly bothering the doctor at the hospital before going tobreakfast. Dade much wished them away, though the news brought in bynight riders was both stirring and cheery. The Indians had flitted awayfrom Webb's front, and he counted on reaching and rescuing the Dry Forkparty within six hours from the time the courier started. They mightexpect the good news during the afternoon of Thursday. Scouts andflankers reported finding _travois_ and pony tracks leading westwardfrom the scene of Ray's fierce battle, indicating that the Indians hadcarried their dead and wounded into the fastnesses of the southernslopes of the Big Horn, and that their punishment had been heavy. Amongthe chiefs killed or seriously wounded was this new, vehement leaderwhom Captains Blake and Ray thought might be Red Fox, who was sotruculent at the Black Hills conference the previous year. Certain ofthe men, however, who had seen Red Fox at that time expressed doubts.Lieutenant Field, said Webb, had seen him, and could probably say.

  Over this despatch the general pondered gravely. "From what I know ofRed Fox," said he, "I should think him a leader of the Sitting Bulltype,--a shrew, intriguing, mischief-making fellow, a sort of Siouxwalking delegate, not a battle leader; but according to Blake and Raythis new man is a fighter."

  Then Mrs. Dade came out and bore the general off to breakfast, andduring breakfast the chief was much preoccupied. Mrs. Dade and theaide-de-camp chatted on social matters. The general exchanged anoccasional word with his host and hostess, and finally surprised neitherof them, when breakfast was over and he had consumed the last of hisglass of hot water, by saying to his staff officer, "I should like tosee Mrs. Hay a few minutes, if possible. We'll walk round there first.Then--let the team be ready at ten o'clock."

  But the team, although ready, did not start northward at ten, and thegeneral, though he saw Mrs. Hay, had no speech with her upon theimportant matters uppermost in his mind during the earlier hours of theday. He found that good lady in a state of wild excitement and alarm.One of the two outriders who had started with her husband and niece atdawn, was mounted on a dun-colored cow pony, with white face and feet.One of the two troopers sent by Dade to overtake and b
ring them back,was turning a blown and exhausted horse over to the care of Hay'sstablemen, as he briefly told his story to the wild-eyed, well nighdistracted woman. Six miles up stream, he said, they had come suddenlyupon a dun-colored cow pony, dead in his tracks, with white feet in airand white muzzle bathed in blood; bridle, saddle and rider gone; signsof struggle in places--but no signs of the party, the team and wagon,anywhere.

  "And no cavalry to send out after them!" said Dade, when he reached thespot. Old Crabb was called at once, and mustered four semi-invalidedtroopers. The infantry supplied half a dozen stout riders and, with amixed escort, the general, accompanied by Dade and the aide-de-camp,drove swiftly to the scene. Six miles away they found the dead pony.Seven miles away they encountered the second trooper, coming back. Hehad followed the trail of the four mule team as far as yonder point,said he, and there was met by half a dozen shots from unseen foe, and sorode back out of range. But Dade threw his men forward as skirmishers;found no living soul either at the point or on the banks of the rockyford beyond; but, in the shallows, close to the shore, lay the body ofthe second outrider, shot and scalped. In a clump of willows lay anotherbody, that of a pinto pony, hardly cold, while the soft, sandy shoreswere cut by dozens of hoof tracks--shoeless. The tracks of the mules andwagon lay straight away across the stream bed--up the opposite bank andout on the northward-sweeping bench beyond. Hay's famous four, andwell-known wagon, contents and all, therefore, had been spirited away,not toward the haunts of the road agents in the mountains of theMedicine Bow, but to those of the sovereign Sioux in the fastnesses ofthe storied Big Horn.