CHAPTER VII
BLOOD WILL TELL
As Webb had predicted, even before nine o'clock, came prompt, spiritedresponse from Laramie, where the colonel had ordered the four troops toprepare for instant march, and had bidden the infantry to be ready forany duty the general might order. From Omaha,--departmentheadquarters,--almost on the heels of the Laramie wire came cheery wordfrom their gallant chief: "Coming to join you noon train to-day.Cheyenne 1:30 to-morrow. Your action in sending Ray's troop approved.Hold others in readiness to move at a moment's notice. Wire further newsNorth Platte, Sidney or Cheyenne to meet me."
So the note of preparation was joyous throughout the barracks on theeastward side and mournful among the married quarters elsewhere. Buteven through the blinding tears with which so many loving women wrought,packing the field and mess kits of soldier husbands whose duties keptthem with their men at barracks or stables, there were some, at least,who were quick to see that matters of unusual moment called certain ofthe major's stanchest henchmen to the office, and that grave and earnestconsultation was being held, from which men came with sombre faces andclose-sealed lips. First to note these indications was the indomitablehelpmate of old Wilkins, the post quartermaster. She had no dread on hisaccount, for rheumatism and routine duties, as the official in charge ofUncle Sam's huge stack of stores and supplies, exempted her liege fromduty in the field; and, even while lending a helping hand where someyoung wife and mother seemed dazed and broken by the sudden call toarms, she kept eyes and ears alert as ever, and was speedily confidingto first one household, then another, her conviction that there was abig sensation bundled up in the bosom of the post commander and hiscronies, and she knew, she said, it was something about Field.Everybody, of course, was aware by eight o'clock that Field had gonewith Ray, and while no officer presumed to ask if it was because Ray, orField, had applied for the detail, no woman would have been restrainedtherefrom by any fear of Webb. Well he realized this fact and, dodgingthe first that sought to waylay him on the walk, he had later intrenchedhimself, as it were, in his office, where Dade, Blake and the old postsurgeon had sat with him in solemn conclave while Bill Hay brought hisclerk, bar-keeper, store-keeper, Pete, the general utility man, and even"Crapaud," the halfbreed, to swear in succession they had no idea whocould have tampered with either the safe or the stables. Closely hadthey been cross-examined; and, going away in turn, they told of thenature of the cross-examination; yet to no one of their number had beenmade known what had occurred to cause such close questioning. Hay hadbeen forbidden to speak of it, even to his household. Theofficers-of-the-day were sworn to secrecy. Neither Wilkins nor theacting adjutant was closeted with the council, and neither, therefore,could do more than guess at the facts. Yet that somebody knew, in partat least, the trend of suspicion, was at once apparent to Webb and hiscouncilors when, about nine o'clock, he took Blake and Dade to see thosesignificant "bar shoe" hoof prints. Every one of them had disappeared.
"By Jove!" said Webb, "I know _now_ I should have set a sentry withorders to let no man walk or ride about here. See! He's used his foot tosmear this--and this--and here again!"
There in a dozen places were signs old Indian trailers read as theywould read an open book. Places where, pivoting on the heel, a heavyfoot had crushed right and left into the yielding soil of the roadway,making concentric, circular grooves and ridges of sandy earth, where,earlier in the morning Dan's and Harney's dainty hoof prints were theonly new impressions. For nearly fifty yards had this obliteratingprocess been carried on, and in a dozen spots, until the road dippedover the rounding edge and, hard and firm now, went winding down to theflats. Here Webb, with Dade and Hay, returned, while Blake meandered on,musing over what he had been told. "It's a government heel, not acowboy's," had Hay said, hopefully, of the print of that pivoting lumpof leather.
"That gives no clue to the wearer," answered Blake. "Our men often selltheir new boots, or give their old ones, to these hangers-on about thepost. So far as I'm concerned, the care with which the print has beenerased is proof to me that the major saw just what he said. Somebodyabout Hay's place was mighty anxious to cover his tracks."
But a dozen "somebodies" besides the stablemen hung there at all hoursof the day, infesting the broad veranda, the barroom and stores,striving to barter the skin of coyote, skunk or beaver, or, when theyhad nothing to sell, pleading for an unearned drink. Half a dozen ofthese furtive, beetle-browed, swarthy sons of the prairie lounged therenow, as the elder officers and the trader returned, while Blake went onhis way, exploring. With downcast eyes he followed the road to andacross a sandy watercourse in the low ground, and there, in two or threeplaces found the fresh imprint of that same bar shoe, just as describedby Webb. Then with long, swift strides he came stalking up the hillagain, passing the watchful eyes about the corral without a stop, andonly checking speed as he neared the homestead of the Hays, where, onceagain, he became engrossed in studying the road and the hard pathways atthe side. Something that he saw, or fancied that he saw, perhaps a dozenyards from the trader's gate, induced him to stop, scrutinize, turn,and, with searching eyes, to cross diagonally the road in the directionof the stables, then again to retrace his steps and return to theeastward side. Just as he concluded his search, and once more wentbriskly on his way, a blithe voice hailed him from an upper window, andthe radiant face and gleaming white teeth of Nanette Flower appearedbetween the opening blinds. One might have said he expected both thesight and question.
"Lost anything, Captain Blake?"
"Nothing but--a little time, Miss Flower," was the prompt reply as,without a pause, the tall captain, raising his forage-cap, pushedswiftly on. "But I've found something," muttered he to himself, betweenhis set teeth, and within five minutes more was again closeted with thepost commander.
"You saw it?" asked Webb.
"Yes. Three or four places--down in the arroyo. More than that--Where'sHay?" he broke off suddenly, for voices were sounding in the adjoiningroom.
"Here, with Dade and the doctor."
"Then--" But Blake got no further. Breathless and eager, little SandyRay came bounding through the hallway into the presence of the officers.He could hardly gasp his news:
"Major, you told me to keep watch and let you know. There's a couriercoming--hard! Mother saw him--too, through the--spyglass. She saysthey--see him, too at Stabber's--and she's afraid----"
"Right!" cried Webb. "Quick, Blake; rush out half a dozen men to meethim. Those devils may indeed cut him off. Thank you, my little man," headded, bending down and patting the dark curly head, as Blake wentbounding away. "Thank you, Sandy. I'll come at once to the bluff. We'llsave him. Never you fear."
In less than no time, one might say, all Fort Frayne seemed hurrying tothe northward bluff. The sight of tall Captain Blake bounding like agreyhound toward his troop barracks, and shouting for his firstsergeant,--of Major Webb almost running across the parade toward theflagstaff,--of Sandy rushing back to his post at the telescope,--of theadjutant and officer of the day tearing away toward the stables, wheremany of the men were now at work, were signs that told unerringly ofsomething stirring, probably across the Platte. As luck would have it,in anticipation of orders to move, the troop horses had not been sentout to graze, and were still in the sunshiny corrals, and long beforethe news was fully voiced through officers' row, Blake and six of hismen were in saddle and darting away for the ford, carbines advanced theinstant they struck the opposite bank.
From the bluff Webb had shouted his instructions. "We could see him amoment ago," for half a dozen field glasses were already brought tobear, "six miles out,--far east of the road. Feel well out to your leftto head off any of Stabber's people. Three of them have been seengalloping out already."
"Aye, aye, sir," came the answering shout, as Blake whirled and toreaway after his men. There had been a time in his distant past when thenavy, not the army, was his ambition, and he still retained some of theways of the sea. Just as Webb feared, some few of Stabber's youngwarrior
s had been left behind, and their eagle-eyed lookout had sightedthe far-distant courier almost as soon as Sandy's famous telescope. Nowthey were hastening to head him off.
But he seemed to have totally vanished. Level as appeared the northwardprairie from the commanding height on which stood the throng of eagerwatchers, it was in reality a low, rolling surface like some lazilyheaving sea that had become suddenly solidified. Long, broad, shallowdips or basins lay between broad, wide, far-extending, yet slight,upheavals. Through the shallows turned and twisted dozens of dryarroyos, all gradually trending toward the Platte,--the drainage systemof the frontier. Five miles out began the ascent to the taller dividesand ridges that gradually, and with many an intervening dip, rose to thewatershed between the Platte and the score of tiny tributaries thatunited to form the South Cheyenne. It was over Moccasin, or Ten Mile,Ridge, as it was often called, and close to the now abandoned stageroad, Ray's daring little command had disappeared from view toward eighto'clock. It was at least two, possibly three, miles east of thestage-road that the solitary courier had first been sighted, and whenlater seen by the major and certain others of the swift gatheringspectators, he was heading for Frayne, though still far east of thehighroad.
And now Mrs. Ray, on the north piazza, with Webb by her side and NannieBlake, Mrs. Dade and Esther in close attendance, was briefly telling themajor what she had seen up stream. One glance through Sandy's glass hadtold her the little fellow had not watched in vain.
Then, with the ready binocular, she had turned to the Indian encampmentup the Platte, and almost instantly saw signs of commotion,--squaws andchildren running about, ponies running away and Indian boys pursuing.Then, one after another, three Indians,--warriors, presumably,--hadlashed away northward and she had sent Sandy on the run to tell themajor, even while keeping watch on this threatening three until theyshot behind a long, low ridge that stretched southward from thefoothills. Beyond doubt they were off in hopes of bagging that solitaryhorseman, speeding with warning of some kind for the shelter of FortFrayne.
By this time there must have been nearly two hundred men, women andchildren lining the crest of the bluff, and speaking in low, tensevoices when they spoke at all, and straining their eyes for the nextsight of the coming courier or the swift dash of the intercepting Sioux.Well out now, and riding at the gallop, Blake and his half dozen, widelyseparating so as to cover much of the ground, were still in view, andDade and his officers breathed more freely. "See what a distance thosebeggars of Stabber's will have to ride," said the veteran captain to thelittle group about him. "They dare not cross that ridge short of threemiles out. It's my belief they'll see Blake and never cross at all."
Then up rose a sudden shout. "There he is!" "There he comes!" "See!""See!" and fifty hands pointed eagerly northeastward where a littleblack dot had suddenly popped into view out of some friendly, windingwatercourse, four miles still away, at least count, and far to the rightand front of Blake's easternmost trooper. Every glass was instantlybrought to bear upon the swiftly coming rider, Sandy's shrill youngvoice ringing out from the upper window. "It isn't one of papa's men.His horse is a gray!" Who then could it be? and what could it mean, thiscoming of a strange courier from a direction so far to the east of thetravelled road? Another moment and up rose another shout."Look!"--"There they are!" "Sioux for certain!" And from behind a littleknob or knoll on the meridian ridge three other black dots had sweptinto view and were shooting eastward down the gradual slope. Anothermoment and they were swallowed up behind still another low divide, butin that moment they had seen and been seen by the westernmost of Blake'smen, and now, one after another as the signals swept from the left, theseven swerved. Their line of direction had been west of north. Now,riding like mad, they veered to the northeast, and a grand race was onbetween the hidden three and the would-be rescuers;--all heading forthat part of the low-rolling prairie where the lone courier might nextbe expected to come into view;--friends and foes alike, unconscious ofthe fact that, following one of those crooked arroyos with its stiff andprecipitous banks, he had been turned from his true course full threequarters of a mile, and now, with a longer run, but a clear field ahead,was steering straight for Frayne.
Thus the interest of the on-lookers at the bluff became divided. Womenwith straining eyes gazed at the lonely courier, and then fearfullyscanned the ridge line between him and the northward sky; praying withwhite lips for his safety; dreading with sinking hearts that at anymoment those savage riders should come darting over the divide andswooping down upon their helpless prey. Men, with eyes that snapped andfists that clinched, or fingers that seemed twitching with mad desire toclasp pistol butt or sabre hilt, or loud barking carbine, ran in sheernervous frenzy up and down the bluffs, staring only at Blake'sfar-distant riders, swinging their hats and waving them on, praying onlyfor another sight of the Sioux in front of the envied seven, and cravingwith all their soldier hearts to share in the fight almost sure tofollow. On the Rays' piazza, with pallid face and quivering lips, EstherDade clung to her mother's side. Mrs. Ray had encircled with her arm theslender waist of Nannie Blake, whose eyes never for an instant quittheir gaze after the swift-speeding dots across the distant prairie. Allher world was there in one tall, vehement horseman. Other troopers,mounting at the stables, had spurred away under Captain Gregg, and weresplashing through the ford. Other denizens of Fort Frayne, hearing ofthe excitement, came hurrying to the bluff, hangers-on from the trader'sstore and corral, the shopman himself, even the bar-keeper in his whitejacket and apron; two or three panting, low-muttering halfbreeds, theireyes aflame, their teeth gleaming in their excitement; then Hay himself,and with him,--her dark face almost livid, her hair disordered and lipsrigid and almost purple, with deep lines at the corners of hermouth,--Nanette Flower. Who that saw could ever forget her as she forcedher way through the crowd and stood at the very brink, saying never aword, but swiftly focussing her ready glasses? Hardly had she reachedthe spot when wild, sudden, exultant, a cheer burst fiercely from thelips of the throng. "Look!" "Look!" "By God, they've got 'em!" yelledman after man, in mad excitement. Three black dots had suddenly sweptinto view, well to the right of Blake's men, and came whirling downgrade straight for the lone courier on the gray. Theirs had been theshort side, ours the long diagonal of the race. Theirs was the race,perhaps, but not the prize, for he had turned up far from the expectedpoint. Still they had him, if only,--if only those infernal troopersfailed to see them. There was their hope! Plainly in view of the highbluff at the fort, they were yet hidden by a wave of the prairie fromsight of the interceptors, still heading for the ridge the warriors hadjust left behind. Only for a second or two, however. A yell of fiercerejoicing went up from the crowd on the bluff as the easternmost ofBlake's black specks was seen suddenly to check, then to launch outagain, no longer to the north, but straight to his right, followedalmost immediately by every one of the seven. Then, too, swerved thewould-be slayers, in long, graceful circles, away from the wrath tocome. And, while the unconscious courier still rode, steadily lopingtoward the desired refuge, away for the breaks and ravines of theSleeping Bear lashed the thwarted Sioux,--away in hopeless stern chasespurred the pursuers, and while women sobbed and laughed and screamed,and men danced and shouted and swore with delight, one dark face, livid,fearsome, turned back from the bluff, and Dr. Tracy, hastening to theside of his enchantress, caught, in amaze, these words, almost hissedbetween set and grinding teeth.
"Seven to three--Shame!"