Warrior Gap: A Story of the Sioux Outbreak of '68.

  CHAPTER XXI.

  A week went by at Fort Emory, and not a word came back from Dean. Thefurious storm that swept the hills and swelled the rivers was the talkof every army post within two hundred miles, while in the gambling hallsand saloons of Laramie, Cheyenne and Gate City men spoke of it in lowtones and with bated breath. If ever the bolts of heaven were launchedto defeat a foul crime it was right there at Canon Springs, for thestory was all over Wyoming by this time how the worst gang of cutthroatsthat ever infested the wide West had galloped in strong force to thatwild, sequestered nook to murder Dean and his whole party of the hated"blue bellies," if need be, but at all hazards to get the preciouspackage in his charge. Fifty thousand dollars in government greenbacksit contained, if Hank Birdsall, their chosen leader, could be believed,and hitherto he had never led them astray. He swore that he had the"straight tip," and that every man who took honest part in the fight,that was sure to ensue, should have his square one thousand dollars.Thirty to ten, surrounding the soldiers along the bluffs on every side,they counted on easy victory. But the warning thunder had been enoughfor the young troop leader, and prompted him to break camp and get outof the gorge. They were starting when Birdsall's scouts peered over thebank and the outlaw ordered instant pursuit, just in time to meet thefury of the flood and to see some of his fellows drowned like rats in asewer.

  But who betrayed the secret? What officer or government employe revealedthe fact that Dean was going with so much treasure?--and what could havebeen his object? Birdsall had taken to the mountains and was beyondpursuit. "Shorty," one of his men, rescued from drowning by the mailcarrier and escort coming down from Frayne, confessed the plot and theGeneral was now at Emory investigating. Major Burleigh had taken to hisbed. Captain Newhall was reported gone to Denver. Old John Folsom laywith bandaged head and blinded eyes in a darkened room, assiduouslynursed by Pappoose and Jessie, who in turn were devotedly attended byMrs. Fletcher. Possessed of some strange nervous excitement, thisenergetic woman was tireless in her effort to be of use. Minus ten oftheir very best, "C" Troop still camped at Emory, the General holding itfor possible escort duty, and, to his huge delight, young Loomis wasassigned to command it until Dean should return. There came a day whenthe news arrived from Frayne that the Laramie column had crossed thePlatte and marched on for the Big Horn, and then John Folsom began tomend and was allowed to sit up, and told the doctor he had need to seeMajor Burleigh without delay, but Burleigh could not leave his bed, saidthe physician in attendance--a very different practitioner fromFolsom's--and the old man began to fret and fume, and asked for writingmaterials. He wrote Burleigh a note, and the doctor forbade hispatient's reading anything. Major Burleigh, said he, was a very sickman, and in a wretchedly nervous condition. Serious consequences werefeared unless utter quiet could be assured.

  Then Folsom was pronounced well enough to be taken out for a drive, andhe and Pappoose had the back seat together, while Jessie, with HarryLoomis to drive, sat in front, and Jess was shy and happy, for Loomishad plainly lost his heart to his comrade's pretty sister. Marshall hadnow been gone nine days and could soon be expected home, said everybody,for with a big force going up there the Indians would scatter and "theboys" would have no trouble coming back. And so this lovely summerafternoon every one seemed bright and joyous at the fort, listening tothe band and wondering, some of the party at least, how much longer itwould be before they could hope to hear from the absent, when therearose sudden sounds of suppressed commotion in the camp of "C" Troop. Acourier was coming like mad on the road from Frayne--a courier whosepanting horse reined up a minute, with heaving flanks, in the midst ofthe thronging men, and all the troop turned white and still at the newsthe rider briefly told:--three companies at Warrior Gap were massacredby the Sioux, one hundred and seventy men in all, including SergeantBruce and all "C" Troop's men but Conroy and Garret, who had cut theirway through with Lieutenant Dean and were safe inside the stockade,though painfully wounded. This appalling story the girls heard withfaces blanched with horror. Passionate weeping came to Jessie's relief,but Pappoose shed never a tear. The courier's dispatches were taken into the colonel, and Folsom, trembling with mingled weakness andexcitement, followed.

  It was an impressive scene as the old soldier read the sad details tothe rapidly growing group of weeping women, for that was Emory'sgarrison now, while the official reports were hurried on to catch theGeneral on his way to Cheyenne. Some one warned the band leader, and themusicians marched away to quarters. Some one bore the news to town wherethe flags over the hotel and the one newspaper office were at oncelowered to half staff, although that at Emory, true to officialetiquette and tradition, remained until further orders at the peak,despite the fact that two of the annihilated companies were from thatvery post. Some one bore the news to Burleigh's quarters at the depot,and, despite assertions that the major could see no one and must not beagitated or disturbed, disturbed and agitated he was beyondper-adventure. Excitedly the sick man sprang from his bed at the tidingsof the massacre and began penning a letter. Then he summoned a youngclerk from his office and told him he had determined to get up at once,as now every energy of the government would doubtless be put forth tobring the Sioux to terms. It was the young clerk who a few weeks backhad remarked to a fellow employe how "rattled" the old man was getting.The major's doctor was not about. The major began dictating letters tovarious officials as he rapidly dressed, and what happened can best betold in the clerk's own words: "For a man too sick to see any one twohours before," said he, "the major had wonderful recuperative powers,but they didn't last. He was in the midst of a letter to the chiefquartermaster and had got as far as to say, 'The deplorable and tragicfate of Lieutenant Dean points, of course, to the loss of the large sumintrusted to him,' when I looked up and said, 'Why, Lieutenant Deanain't dead, major; he got in all right,' and he stared at me a minute asif I had stabbed him. His face turned yellow-white and down he went likea log--had a fit I s'pose. Then I ran for help, and then the doctor cameand hustled everybody out."

  But not till late that night did these details reach "Old Pecksniff" atthe post. A solemn time was that veteran having, for many of the womenwere almost in hysterics and all were in deep distress. Two of theirnumber, wives of officers, were widowed by the catastrophe, and one laysenseless for hours. It was almost dark when Mr. Folsom and the girlsdrove homeward, and his face was lined and haggard. Pappoose nestledfondly, silently at his side, holding his hand and closely scanning hisfeatures, as though striving to read his thoughts. Jessie, comforted nowby the knowledge that Marshall was rapidly recovering, and the words ofpraise bestowed upon him in the colonel's letters, was nevertheless indeep anxiety as to the future. The assurance that the Sioux, even intheir overwhelming numbers, would not attack a stockade, was notsufficient. Marshall would be on duty again within a very few days, thecolonel said. His wounds would heal within the week, and it was onlyloss of so much blood that had prostrated him. Within a few days, then,her loved brother would be in saddle and in the field against theIndians. Who could assure her they would not have another pitchedbattle? Who could say that the fate that befell the garrison at WarriorGap might not await the troop when next it rode away? And poor Jess hadother anxieties, too, by this time. Loomis was burning with eagernessfor orders to lead it instantly to join the field column, and importunedColonel Stevens, even in the midst of all the grief and shock of theearly evening. Almost angrily the veteran colonel bade him attend to hisassigned duties and not demand others. "C" Troop should not with hisadvice and consent be sent north of the Platte. "First thing you know,sir, after they've got all the troops up along the Big Horn you'll seethe Sioux in force this side of the river, murdering right and left, andnot a company to oppose them. No, sir, more than enough of that troophave already been sacrificed! The rest shall stay here."

  And well was it, for one and all, that "Old Pecksniff" held firm to hisdecision. It was one of his lucid intervals.

  Late that evening, after ten o'clock, there came the s
ound of hoof-beatson the hard road and the crack of the long-lashed mule-whip, and thefort ambulance clattered up to Folsom's gate, and the colonel himself,his adjutant by his side, came nervously up the gravel walk. Folsom metthem at his door. Instinctively he felt that something new and startlingwas added to the catalogue of the day's disastrous tidings. Pecksniff'sface was eloquent of gravest concern, mingled with irrepressibleexcitement.

  "Let me see you in private, quick," he said. "Mr.--Ah--Mr. Adjutant,will you kindly remain in the parlor," and, taking Folsom by the elbow,Pecksniff led impetuously into the library. The girls had gone aloftonly a moment before, but, dreading news of further evil, Pappoose camefluttering down.

  "Go in and welcome the adjutant, dear," said Folsom hurriedly. "Thecolonel and I have some matters to talk of." Obediently she turned atonce, and, glancing up the stairs, noted that Mrs. Fletcher's door musthave been suddenly opened, for the light from her room was now streamingon the third-floor balusters. Listening again! What could be the secretof that woman's intense watchfulness? In the parlor the young staffofficer was pacing up and down, but his face lighted at sight of Elinor.

  "Do you know--Is there anything new?--anything worse?" she quicklyasked, as she gave her slim young hand.

  "Not concerning our people," was the significant answer. "But I fearthere's more excitement coming."

  Barely waiting for Elinor to withdraw, "Pecksniff" had turned on Folsom."You know I opposed the sending of that party? You know it was allordered on Burleigh's urging and representations, do you not?"

  "Yes, I heard so," said Folsom. "What then?"

  "You know he planned the whole business--sent 'em around by CanonSprings and the Sweetwater?"

  "Yes, I heard that, too," said Folsom, still wondering.

  "You know some one must have put that Birdsall gang on the scent, andthat Burleigh has had alleged nerve prostration ever since, and has beentoo ill to see any one or to leave his bed."

  "Yes, so we were told."

  "Well, he's well enough to be up and away--God knows where, and here isthe reason--just in from the north," and, trembling with excitement,Pecksniff pointed to the closing paragraph of the letter in his hand:

  "Cords, seals and wrapping were intact when handed to the quartermaster, but the contents were nothing but worthless paper. It must have been so when given to Lieutenant Dean."

  Folsom's eyes were popping from his head. He sank into a chair, gazingup in consternation.

  "Don't you see, man!" said Pecksniff, "some one in the depot is shortten thousand dollars or so. Some one hoped to cover this shortage injust this way--to send a little squad with a bogus package, and thenturn loose the biggest gang of ruffians in the country. They would havegot it but for the storm at Canon Springs, and no one would have beenthe wiser. They couldn't have got it without a murderous fight. No onewould ever dare confess his complicity in it. No statement of theirsthat there wasn't a cent in the sack could ever be believed. Some one'sshortage would be covered and his reputation saved. The plot failed, andGod's mercy was over Dean's young head. He'd 'a been murdered or ruinedif the plan worked--and now Burleigh's gone!"