CHAPTER XVI

  NIGHT PROWLING AT FRAYNE

  In the full of the September moon the war-bands of the Sioux had defiedagents and peace chiefs, commissioners and soldiers, and started theirwild campaign in northern Wyoming. In the full of the October moon thebig chief of the whites had swept the last vestige of their warriorsfrom the plains, and followed their bloody trails into the heart of themountains, all his cavalry and much of his foot force being needed forthe work in hand. Not until November, therefore, when the ice bridgespanned the still reaches of the Platte, and the snow lay deep in thebrakes and _coulees_, did the foremost of the homeward-bound commandscome in view of old Fort Frayne, and meantime very remarkable things hadoccurred, and it was to a very different, if only temporary, postcommander that Sandy Ray reported them as "sighted." Even brave old Dadehad been summoned to the front, with all his men, and in their place hadcome from distant posts in Kansas other troops to occupy the vacantquarters and strive to feel at home in strange surroundings.

  A man of austere mold was the new major,--one of the old Covenantertype, who would march to battle shouting hymn tunes, and to Christmasand Thanksgiving chanting doleful lays. He hailed, indeed, from oldPuritan stock; had been a pillar in the village church in days beforethe great war, and emulated Stonewall Jackson in his piety, if he didnot in martial prowess. Backed by local, and by no means secular,influences he had risen in the course of the four years' war from ajunior lieutenancy to the grade of second in command of his far easternregiment; had rendered faithful services in command of convalescentcamps and the like, but developed none of that vain ambition whichprompts the seeking of "the bubble reputation" at the cannon's mouth.All he ever knew of Southern men in ante-bellum days was what he heardfrom the lips of inspired orators or read from the pens of very earnestanti-slavery editors. Through lack of opportunity he had met noSoutherner before the war, and carried his stanch, Calvinisticprejudices to such extent that he seemed to shrink from closer contacteven then. The war was holy. The hand of the Lord would surely smite theslave-holding arch rebel, which was perhaps why the Covenanter thoughtit work of supererogation to raise his own. He finished as he began thewar, in the unalterable conviction that the Southern President, hiscabinet and all his leading officers should be hung, and their landsconfiscated to the state--or its representatives. He had been given acommission in the army when such things were not hard to get--at thereorganization in '66, had been stationed in a Ku Klux district all onewinter and in a sanitarium most of the year that followed. He thoughtthe nation on the highroad to hell when it failed to impeach thePresident of high crimes and misdemeanors, and sent Hancock to harmonizematters in Louisiana. He was sure of it when the son of a Southerner,who had openly flouted him, was sent to West Point. He retained theseradical views even unto the twentieth anniversary of the greatsurrender; and, while devoutly praying for forgiveness of his own sins,could never seem to forgive those whose lot had been cast with theSouth. He was utterly nonplussed when told that the young officer,languishing in hospital on his arrival, was the son of a distinguishedmajor-general of the Confederate Army, and he planned for the father amost frigid greeting, until reminded that the former major-general wasnow a member of Congress and of the committee on military affairs. Thenit became his duty to overlook the past.

  He had not entered Field's little room, even when inspecting hospital(Flint was forever inspecting something or other)--the doctor'sassurance that, though feeble, his patient was doing quite well, was allsufficient. He had thought to greet the former Confederate, a sorelyanxious father, with grave and distant civility, as an avowed anddoubtless unregenerate enemy of that sacred flag; but, as has been said,that was before it was pointed out to him that this was the Honorable M.C. from the Pelican State, now prominent as a member of the HouseCommittee on Military Affairs. Motherless and sister-less was thewounded boy, yet gentle and almost caressing hands had blessed hispillow and helped to drive fever and delirium to the winds. It wastwelve days after they brought him back to Frayne before the fathercould hope to reach him, coming post haste, too; but by that time thelad was propped on his pillows, weak, sorrowing and sorely troubled,none the less so because there was no one now to whom he could say_why_.

  The men whom he knew and trusted were all away on campaign, all save theveteran post surgeon, whom hitherto he had felt he hardly knew at all.The women whom he had best known and trusted were still present at thepost. Mrs. Ray and Mrs. Blake had been his friends, frank, cordial andsincere up to the week of his return from Laramie and his sudden andoverwhelming infatuation for Nanette Flower. Then they had seemed tohold aloof, to greet him only with courtesy, and to eye him withunspoken reproach. The woman at Fort Frayne to whom he most looked upwas Mrs. Dade, and now Mrs. Dade seemed alienated utterly. She had beento inquire for him frequently, said his attendant, when he was so rackedwith fever. So had others, and they sent him now jellies and similardelicacies, but came no more in person--just yet at least--but he didnot know the doctor so desired. Field knew that his father, after thelong, long journey from the distant South, was now close at hand,--wouldbe with him within a few hours, and even with Ray's warm words of praisestill ringing in his ears, the young soldier was looking to thatfather's coming almost with distress. It was through God's mercy andthe wisdom of the old surgeon that no word, as yet, had been whisperedto him of the discovery made when the money packages were opened--of thetragic fate that had, possibly, befallen Bill Hay and Miss Flower.

  That a large sum of money was missing, and that Field was theaccountable officer, was already whispered about the garrison. The factthat four officers and Mr. Hay were aware of it in the first place, andthe latter had told it to his wife, was fatal to entire secrecy. But, inthe horror and excitement that prevailed when the details of the latertragedy were noised about the post, this minor incident had been almostforgotten.

  The disappearance of Hay and his brilliant, beautiful niece, however,was not to be forgotten for a moment, day or night, despite the factthat Mrs. Hay, who had been almost crazed with dread and terror whenfirst informed there had been a "hold-up," rallied almost immediately,and took heart and hope when it became apparent that Indians, not whitemen, were the captors.

  "The Sioux would never harm a hair of his head," she proudly declared."He has been their friend for half a century." Nor had she fears forNanette. The Sioux would harm nobody her husband sought to protect. Whenit was pointed out to her that they had harmed the guards,--that one ofthem was found shot dead and scalped at the shores of the Platte, andthe other, poor fellow, had crawled off among the rocks and bled todeath within gunshot of the scene,--Mrs. Hay said they must have firstshown fight and shot some of the Sioux, for all the Indians knew Mr.Hay's wagon. Then why, asked Fort Frayne, had they molested him--andhis?

  The general had had to leave for the front without seeing Mrs. Hay. Morethan ever was it necessary that he should be afield, for this exploitshowed that some of the Sioux, at least, had cut loose from the mainbody and had circled back toward the Platte--Stabber's people in allprobability. So, sending Crabb and his little squad across the river tofollow a few miles, at least, the trail of the wagon and its captors,and ascertain, if possible, whither it had gone, he hurried back toFrayne; sent messengers by the Laramie road to speed the cavalry, andorders to the colonel to send two troops at once to rescue Hay and hisniece; sent wires calling for a few reinforcements, and was off on theway to Beecher, guarded by a handful of sturdy "doughboys" inambulances, before ever the body of the second victim was found.

  And then, little by little, it transpired that this mysterious warparty, venturing to the south bank of the Platte, did not exceed half adozen braves. Crabb got back in thirty-six hours, with five exhaustedmen. They had followed the wheel tracks over the open prairie and intothe foothills far to the Northwest, emboldened by the evidence of therebeing but few ponies in the original bandit escort. But, by four in theafternoon, they got among the breaks and ravines and, first thing theyknew, among th
e Indians, for zip came the bullets and down went twohorses, and they had to dismount and fight to stand off possible swarms,and, though owning they had seen no Indians, they had proof of havingfelt them, and were warranted in pushing no further. After dark theybegan their slow retreat and here they were.

  And for seven days that was the last heard, by the garrison, at least,of these most recent captives of the Sioux. Gentle and sympatheticwomen, however, who called on Mrs. Hay, were prompt to note that thoughunnerved, unstrung, distressed, she declared again and again her faiththat the Indians would never really harm her husband. They might holdhim and Nanette as hostages for ransom. They might take for their ownpurposes his wagon, his mules and that store of money, but his life wassafe, yes, and Nanette's too. Of this she was so confident that peoplebegan to wonder whether she had not received some assurance to thateffect, and when Pete, the stable boy driver, turned up at the end ofthe first week with a cock-and-bull story about having stolen an Indianpony and shot his way from the midst of the Sioux away up on No WoodCreek, on the west side of the hills, and having ridden by night andhidden by day until he got back to the Platte and Frayne, people feltsure of it. Pete could talk Sioux better than he could jabber English.He declared the Indians were in the hills by thousands, and were goingto take Hay and the young lady away off somewhere to be held for safekeeping. He said the two troops that, never even halting at Frayne, hadpushed out on the trail, would only get into trouble if they tried toenter the hills from the South, and that they would never get thecaptives, wherein Pete was right, for away out among the spurs andgorges of the range, fifty miles from Frayne, the pursuers came upon thewreck of the wagon at the foot of an acclivity, up which a force ofSioux had gone in single file. Many warriors it would seem, however,must have joined the party on the way, and from here,--where with thewagon was found Hay's stout box, bereft of its contents,--in fourdifferent directions the pony tracks of little parties crossed orclimbed the spurs, and which way the captives had been taken, CaptainBillings, the commander, could not determine. What the Sioux hoped hemight do was divide his force into four detachments and send one on eachtrail. Then they could fall upon them, one by one, and slay them attheir leisure. Billings saw the game, however, and was not to be caught.He knew Bill Hay, his past and his popularity among the red men. He knewthat if they meant to kill him at all they would not have taken thetrouble to cart him fifty miles beforehand. He dropped the stern chasethen and there, and on the following day skirted the foothills away tothe east and, circling round to the breaks of the Powder as he reachedthe open country, struck and hard hit a scouting band of Sioux, andjoined the general three days later, when most he was needed, near thelog palisades of old Fort Beecher.

  Then there had been more or less of mysterious coming and going amongthe halfbreed hangers-on about the trader's store, and these were thingsthe new post commander knew not how to interpret, even when informed ofthem. He saw Mrs. Hay but once or twice. He moved into the quarters ofMajor Webb, possessing himself, until his own should arrive, of such ofthe major's belongings as the vigilance of Mistress McGann would suffer.He stationed big guards from his two small companies about the post, andstarted more hard swearing among his own men, for "getting only twonights in bed," than had been heard at Frayne in long months of lesspious post commandership. He strove to make himself agreeable to theladies, left lamenting for their lords, but as luck would have it, fellforemost into the clutches of the quartermaster's wife, the dominant andunterrified Wilkins.

  Just what prompted that energetic and, in many ways, estimable woman, totake the new major into close communion, and tell him not only what sheknew, but what she thought, about all manner of matters at the post, cannever be justly determined. But within the first few days of his coming,and on the eve of the arrival of General Field, Major Flint was inpossession of the story of how devoted young Field had been to EstherDade, and how cruelly he had jilted her for the brilliant Miss Flower,"her that was gone with the Sioux." The differences between her stout,veteran liege and the smooth-faced stripling had given her text to startwith. The story of the money lost had filtered from her lips, andfinally that of other peccadilloes, attributable to the young postadjutant, whom, as she said, "The meejor had to rejuice and sind to thefront all along of his doin's in gar'son." Dade was gone. There was noman save Wilkins to whom Major Flint felt that he could appeal forconfirmation or denial of these stories. Dr. Waller was his senior inthe service by ten years at least, and a type of the old-time officerand gentleman of whom such as Flint stood ever in awe. He preferred,therefore, as he thought, to keep the doctor at a distance, to make himfeel the immensity of his, the post commander's, station, and so, asWilkins dare not disavow the sayings of his wife, even had he been sominded, the stories stood.

  Flint was thinking of them this very evening when Dr. Waller, happeningto meet him on his way from hospital briefly said that General Fieldshould be with them on the morrow. "He leaves Rock Creek to-night,having hired transportation there. I had hoped our lad might be inbetter spirits by this time."

  The major answered vaguely. How could a lad with all these sins upon hissoul be in anything but low spirits? Here was a brand to be snatchedfrom the burning, a youth whom prompt, stern measures might redeem andrestore, one who should be taught the error of his ways forthwith; only,the coming of the member of the Military Committee of the House ofRepresentatives might make the process embarrassing. There were otherways, therefore and however, in which this valuable information in themajor's possession might be put to use, and of these was the majorthinking, more than of the condition of the wounded lad, physical orspiritual, as homeward through the gloaming he wended his way.

  Might it not be well to wait until this important and influentialpersonage had reached the post before proceeding further? Might it notbe well, confidentially and gradually, as it were, to permit theHonorable M. C. to know that grave irregularities had occurred?--that upto this moment the complete knowledge thereof was locked in the breastof the present post commander?--that the suppression or presentation ofthe facts depended solely upon that post commander? and then if themember of the House Committee on Military Affairs proved receptive,appreciative, in fact responsive, might not the ends of justice betterbe subserved by leaving to the parent the duty of personally andprivately correcting the son? and, in consideration of the postcommander's wisdom and continence, pledging the influence of theMilitary Committee to certain delectable ends in the major's behalf?Long had Flint had his eye on a certain desirable berth in the distantEast--at the national capitol in fact--but never yet had he foundstatesman or soldier inclined to further his desire. That night themajor bade Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins hold their peace as to Field'speccadilloes until further leave was given them to speak. That night themajor, calling at Captain Dade's, was concerned to hear that Mrs. Dadewas not at home. "Gone over to the hospital with Mrs. Blake and thedoctor," was the explanation, and these gentle-hearted women, it seems,were striving to do something to rouse the lad from the slough ofdespond which had engulfed him. That night "Pink" Marble, Hay's faithfulbook-keeper and clerk for many a year, a one-armed veteran of the civilwar, calling, as was his invariable custom when the trader was absent,to leave the keys of the safe and desks with Mrs. Hay, was surprised tofind her in a flood of tears, for which she declined all explanation;yet the sight of Pete, the half breed, slouching away toward the stablesas Marble closed the gate, more than suggested cause, for "Pink" hadlong disapproved of that young man. That night Crapaud, the otherstableman, had scandalized Jerry Sullivan, the bar-keeper, and oldMcGann, Webb's Hibernian major domo, by interrupting their game of OldSledge with a demand for a quart of whiskey on top of all that he hadobviously and surreptitiously been drinking, and by further indulging infurious threats, in a sputtering mixture of Dakota French and FrenchDakota, when summarily kicked out. That night, late as twelve o'clock,Mrs. Ray, aroused by the infantile demands of the fourth of the olivebranches, and further disturbed by the suspicious growlings andchal
lenge of old Tonto, Blake's veteran mastiff, peeped from the secondstory window and plainly saw two forms in soldier overcoats at the backfence, and wondered what the sentries found about Blake's quarters torequire so much attention. Then she became aware of a third form,rifle-bearing, and slowly pacing the curving line of the bluff--thesentry beyond doubt. Who, then, were these others who had now totallydisappeared? She thought to speak of it to Nannie in the morning, andthen thought not. There were reasons why nervous alarm of any kind werebest averted then from Mrs. Blake. But there came reason speedily whyMrs. Ray could not forget it.

  And that night, later still, along toward four o'clock, the persistentclicking of the telegraph instrument at the adjutant's office caught theear of the sentry, who in time stirred up the operator, and a "rush"message was later thrust into the hand of Major Flint, demolishing aday-old castle in the air.

  FROM ROCK CREEK, WYOMING, _October 23, 188--._ 9:15 P. M.

  COMMANDING OFFICER, FORT FRAYNE, _via Fort Laramie_.

  Stage capsized Crook Canon. General Field seriously injured. Have wiredOmaha.

  (Signed) Warner, _Commanding Camp._