CHAPTER XII.
DANGER IN THE AIR--THE CHOICE OF A CAPTAIN--AN EFFECTUAL SARCASM--GOING LAME--"THE HEATHEN CHINEE"--A MILITARY ENGINEER WITHOUT A COMMISSION--NO VENTILATION--SMOTHERING LIKE RATS IN A HOLE--THE MONETARY SURPRISE--TWO RED-SKINS--LEAVING THEIR GUNS OUTSIDE--TRAPPED--"THE HEATHEN CHINEE" ONCE MORE--SOME QUIET TALK.
The next two or three weeks passed, to all appearance, quietly enough.There was, however, an unpleasant feeling in Susanville and around HoneyLake, of danger in the air. Perhaps, this feeling was not whollyunpleasant. The Rangers had now been idle for a tolerably long time.That is to say, there had recently been no positive Indian troubles.
However, the Deep Hole Spring murder had sounded the preparatory note.
Not long afterwards the gathering storm broke on us. A large stock ofcattle belonging to Bill Long and Allen Wood had been in the charge offive good and trusty _Buccahros_ or herdsmen, at the upper end of thevalley. But red cunning, in this case, baffled white honesty. One darknight, three hundred head of stock were driven off; and in the morningthe herdsmen found themselves without any herd to look after. At thetime when the intelligence reached it, I was in Susanville. In less thanan hour after we heard the facts, the Rangers, with the exception ofthree, were in the saddle, and on their way to Emmerson's Ranch, fromwhich the cattle had been driven. Two of the three we picked up on theroad there. The third overtook us, long before we had arrived at thespot where our services were required.
About fifty volunteers had collected at the Ranch, when we reached it.They were occupied in the momentous duty of choosing a captain, andappeared to find no small difficulty in making their selection. As soonas Harry Arnold appreciated this difficulty, he approached me with anair of very far profounder respect than he had ever before exhibited tome, and raising his hand to his forehead in soldier-like style, saidwith great gravity:
"Captain! Don't you think we had better take the trail? They won't havechosen their commanding officer until--"
"The Day hof Judgment!" broke in Brighton Bill, with an oath.
"And after that," continued Harry with the same imperturbableseriousness, "they will have to elect a Lieutenant, a Sergeant, and--"
"'Alf ha dozen Horderlies!"
For once in my life I very nearly forgot duty, as I looked at the twowhose criticism on the election going on, was couched in styles sowidely opposed. To avoid roaring with laughter, I roared out in a verydifferent tone.
"Rangers! take the trail."
In another instant, we were following its sufficiently broad and plainindication.
Let me, as we pursue it, mention that Harry Arnold's gentlemanlyreproof, and Bill's coarser satire produced an immediate result. DavidBlanchard was chosen captain of the Volunteers, in less than fiveminutes, and in no more than ten after we were on the trail, they alsowere in the saddles, and following it, closely behind us.
Blanchard had lived on the Plains for years, and was in every respectwell adapted for his present position. We soon had a good understanding,and when we arrived at Smoke Creek where the Indians had evidentlycamped for the night, on the day before, a plan of action was agreedupon.
The horses were accordingly sent back under a sufficient guard to theRanch, and we divided ourselves into two parties. One of these was tofollow the red robbers up Painter's Canyon, which direction they hadtaken. The other was to continue down Smoke Creek, by Buffalo Springs,to protect the settlers from any other bands of the Pah-utes which mightbe out, after anything they could pick up--provision or stock, weaponsor lives.
Very unfortunately, shortly after we had started, John Partridge andmyself, with one of the pack-horses retained to carry blankets andprovisions, as well as a Chinese who had accompanied the volunteers as aman of all work, became so lame that it was impossible for us tocontinue at the same speed as the rest of the party.
It was a matter of obvious necessity, that we should give up all idea ofdoing so.
In consequence of this, Arnold took my place in command of the Rangers,and with a sore heart in one bosom at least, I turned my back upon themen whose labors and dangers I had so long partaken. It would be almostimpossible for me to explain precisely what my feelings were at thatmoment. Of course, I felt none who had shared my previous struggleswould impute my disability to anything approaching fear, or adisinclination to endure privation. And yet, in the immediate pursuit ofthe rascals who had plundered two of our prominent settlers, I wascompelled to leave it entirely to others. In my eyes, this almost seemeda humiliation which it must be long before I could surmount, and whichsubsequent toil and courage might alone wipe out.
Necessarily, this now appears childish to myself as it will doubtless tomy readers. However, I felt it, and my heart seemed to weep tears ofblood and shame as I did so.
We had determined upon returning through Rush Valley, for two reasons.One of them was, that knowing the ground, we fancied it would be easierto travel for us in our partially disabled condition. The other was evena simpler one. On reaching Mud Springs, which even in our present statewe might fairly count upon doing by nightfall, we should find a restingplace. This was in the house of a man whom I knew tolerably well, andwho had formerly kept the Station at this place.
Upon reaching Mud Springs, which we did earlier than we had calculatedon doing, we repaired to his dwelling, where we were welcomed warmly.
Scarcely, however, had he placed food before us, with some capitalcoffee, than he began questioning us about the Indians. He asked us whatwe had heard of them--whether they were yet moving--what action had beentaken with regard to them, and lastly, how it was that I, Buckskin Mose,as I was now generally called, chanced to be here? In reply, Irecounted to him the plunder of Emmerson's Ranch, of which, he had asyet heard nothing, and the steps which had been taken to pursue thePah-ute thieves. My narration was concluded with, I fear, no peculiarlypious expression of pleasure at having been compelled to leave theRangers at a time when I should so desire to have been at their head.
As he listened to what I was saying, he chuckled audibly, and seeing mylook of astonishment, afterwards explained what had induced him toindulge in so strange an exhibition of merriment.
"Yer see, Cap! I'm ready for 'em if they look me up. I don't choose toturn tail, like some of my neighbors."
"What do you mean?"
"I was sartain the copper-colored devils were preparing for something o'the sort, and so made a hole under the chapparal behind the house, wharI don't much think they'll spot me, when I take to it."
The hole he alluded to was a large and comfortable excavation conductedto by a subterranean passage of considerable length. It had taken himseveral weeks to dig out the passage and room, which last wassufficiently spacious to _cache_ all his goods, and even portion of hisstock, if the necessity of doing so was forced upon him. He exhibitedhis fortification, or we should perhaps call it his citadel, to myself,Partridge, and the Chinaman, with a good deal of pride.
Nor, indeed, was it a place of security to be laughed at, by a solitarydweller on the frontier during Indian troubles. Nature had evidently notdealt on the square with him. With the advantages of education, thefellow would have made a good military engineer.
Fatigued with our day's tramp, we retired at an early hour, and hadbeen asleep but a short time, when we were aroused by the continualbarking of his two watchdogs. These, I had noticed on arriving at thehouse. They were noble-looking animals.
Throwing aside my blanket, and sitting up, I noticed that Partridge haddone the same.
As for the person who had failed to find his natural avocation, he wasalready on his feet, as also was our Chinese friend. The lattervolunteered a very unnecessary explanation.
"Doggee too much barkee. Pig-tail Bobbee, no sleepee."
The dogs certainly did keep up a confounded row. We concluded that,under the circumstances, a renewed attempt at slumber would be useless.In accordance with this view of the situation, John Partridge and myselfalso rose, "keeping an eye o
ut" for what might turn up next.
We had only been on our legs for a few minutes, when one of the dogsrushed against the door with a prolonged howl. On opening it, he ran in,and we saw an arrow sticking in his body. The door was instantly closedand barred. It was clear that we were attacked, and I instantly peeredthrough one of the small holes with which the boarded and sodded wallsof the house were pierced, to see what I could.
It was dark enough. Yet my eyes were sufficiently keen to discern thedusky forms of objects moving in front, which were evidently red-skins.
But the gloom was too great for us to fire with a reasonable chance ofhitting them. We must wait for the daylight. It was now some two hourspast midnight, and when the dawn broke we should--ha! what was this?Smoke driving through the dried sods on the inside of the walls,followed here and there, where the shrinking of the matted earth hadgiven such a chance, by lancing tongues of flame.
Light had been afforded us much sooner than we had, in any way,anticipated.
The red devils had set the house on fire.
It was clear that we should have to abandon our outer works, and retireinto the stronghold.
We accordingly made an orderly retreat through the tunnel which hasalready been mentioned, carrying all our ammunition and weapons with us.The Pah-utes had of course expected us to attempt an escape aboveground. In that case, they would have been able, by the light of theblazing dwelling, to have counted us out and raised our hair. As it was,we preferred concealing ourselves under the earth. This enabled us tosave our scalps, at any rate, for the time.
We had carried a spade with us. It was necessary to fill up the passagethrough which we quitted the burning dwelling. In any less pressingnecessity than the present, I should certainly have set Pig-tail Bobbeeat the work of closing it. Chinese labor, however, although thorough, isby no means rapid enough in moments of necessity.
So, I began it. Partridge and the engineer followed. Each worked inturn, almost as fast as chain lightning.
In some ten or twelve minutes the mouth of the narrow tunnel was blockedup, I may honestly say, with a speed and completeness which even aBrunel or a Stephenson would have appreciated. McClellan would havebeen nowhere, if his work had been brought into comparison with ours onthe score of rapidity.
We then transferred ourselves to the citadel. As I before intimated, itwas sufficiently large. However, it possessed one inconvenience withregard to John and myself.
The engineer was a short man. He had dug it out, with an eye to his ownconvenience. The Chinaman was even shorter. Consequently, he also foundit lofty enough for his height. But we counted nearly six feet instature. However, in such a case as the present one, minor personaldiscomforts had to be overlooked. A graver one now presented itself. Theengineer had provided no means of ventilation. We had tenanted theinternal fort for some half an hour, when the atmosphere becameunpleasantly close. It might even have been pronounced stifling. Somemeans of procuring fresh air had at once to be found. I questioned ourfriend as to the presumable distance between the top of my skull and thebottom of the _chapparal_.
"Tain't far, Cap, atween one and the other," was his answer.
"How far?"
"Mebbee, six inches," he reflectively answered.
"You're sure of that?"
"Or mebbee, six foot!"
"Good Heavens! man, have you no clearer idea about it than that?"
"How on airth should I, Cap?"
"Don't you know that there's a good chance of our being smothered, likerats in a hole which has been stopped up?"
"Yow could I help it?"
There was no use in discussing the subject with the luckless engineer.That was evident. Something, however, had to be done, and very shortly.A rat in such a case would use its teeth without pausing to discuss howmuch or how little he had to gnaw through. My teeth were not exactlyadapted to such an experiment. But my ramrod might be a good probe, andif it found bottom or top (which it was, it would have been difficult tosay) the spade might save us.
In another instant I was working my ramrod through the earthen roof ofour air-tight, although scarcely pregnable citadel.
The earth was soft, and in less than a minute I felt its end had reachedfresh air, although none of that desirable commodity had yet reached us.In order to enlarge the hole I had made, I was working the slip ofwrought-iron with which I had produced it, round and round, when a largepiece of rock fell down from the side of it, with a quantity of loosesoil.
It scraped my shoulder.
"What tumblee?" screamed Pig-tail Bobby.
"Hold your tongue, you fool!" said Partridge. "Don't you feel, Mose hassaved us from stifling."
With the fresh air, a little light, it was very little, came through thehole to us. As for me, I felt a new man. Looking around for a barrelwhich I had seen in the excavation when we had first visited it, withits proprietor, I set it erect under the ventilator so unexpectedlymanufactured. Mounting on it, I protruded my head through the bottom ofthe _chapparal_. Day had already broken. Through the under branches ofthe trees I could see the still smoking timbers of the burned-downhouse. The rascally Pah-utes were dancing around them, in fiendish glee.
It was too great a temptation to be resisted, and I asked John to handme my rifle.
After he had handed it to me, I passed its barrel through the busheswith great care, so as to avoid any noise which might attract theattention of the Indians.
Never, possibly, was any red devil more surprised than that Pah-ute,when he felt the leaden messenger of death crashing through his skull.
His surprise, however, was but momentary. It silenced him forever.
They handed me another rifle, and another of the red-skins fell.
Yet another, and another--until, at last, when nine of the Indians hadbeen slain, the remainder of them fled from the scene they had sorecently fancied one of complete victory.
We now quitted the cave which had served us so well, having taken somepork from the barrel I had used to stand upon with so much advantage.While cooking this on the still burning embers of the house, I saw thecharred carcase of the poor hound, who had given us so timely a warning.He had been forgotten by his master, when we took refuge in the citadel,constructed by him without the indispensable requisite of an air-hole.
As we were drinking a little sugarless and milkless coffee, chancing toturn my head, I saw something moving in a large sage-brush.
Leaping to my feet, I started for it, and as I did so an Indian brokefrom it and ran. He did this in a zigzag manner, leaping from side toside, which rendered it a matter of extreme difficulty to fetch him. Atlength, however, I was enabled to accomplish this. He must have been ona scouting expedition from the party we had so narrowly escaped. If so,he had not well calculated the time of his return. Half an hour later orearlier, he might have kept his scalp.
Although still lame, I was enabled to cover more ground on our way backto the Ranch of George Laithrop, which we arrived at, close upon fouro'clock in the afternoon.
A little after we had entered it, and while we were eating our supper,Laithrop, who had been out when we got there, turned up. He wasastonished to see me, supposing I had been with the Rangers; but he hadlittle time to devote to the expression of any such feeling. Two mountedPah-utes were advancing to the house. Three months since they would havebeen received as friends, so far at least as a red-skin can ever bedeemed friendly by the white man, of whom, on the slightest chance orwhim, he is ready to become the enemy. After the preceding few days,they could merely be regarded in the light of the latter designation.
"Let them enter, Laithrop! but without their guns. We will go into theback-room."
In two or three minutes the red-skins were at the door. He told them,they must "leave" their "guns outside." They were probably upon anexpedition for spying out the nakedness of the land, and counted ondoing no immediate harm, as they consented to do this. Leaning one gunon either side of the door, they accordingly entered the main-room ofthe Ranc
h. Partridge and myself quitted the house by the rear doorway,and passing round it on either side, secured their two weapons. Havingeffected this, I entered the room, followed by my companion, and toldthem they were "our prisoners." An indescribable mixture of rage andfear flashed over the features of the taller red-skin.
"The Pah-ute know Buckskin Mose. He laugh at his words, a heap."
While saying this, he had leapt into a corner of the room, caught up anold repeating rifle which was standing there, and struck heavily with itat George Laithrop. Had Laithrop not dodged the blow, it would haveseverely injured him. As it was, it caught him slantwise on the back andsent him staggering across the room.
The next instant he was struggling with myself and Partridge.
He managed to draw his knife.
However, this had been seen by me in time to avoid the thrust. With ablow from my fist, I dashed him from me. At the same instant a shot fromhis own Minie rifle, which Laithrop had caught up from the place where Ihad laid it, passed through his breast, and he fell.
Then I looked round for his companion.
To my surprise, I found him on the bed in the grip of Pig-tail Bobby.Never before had I seen a Chinaman with any fight in him. It was myfirst experience of a new phase in the character of the "HeathenChinee." Bobby's knife was out, and in another minute the Pah-ute'slife-blood would have been staining the blankets. This was a mostuseless proceeding, as blankets, at this time, were not over-plentifulround Honey Lake. Therefore I pulled Pig-tail back, with a roundexclamation of disgust at the lavish profligacy of such a proceeding.
The red-skin, however, had more leg and less pluck than his companion.Leaping from the bed, he darted through the door, and was off.
However, I was as quick as he was. No sooner had I seen him make for theopen, than I was after him. As I left the house I had caught up adouble-barrelled shot gun, and brought him down before he had run fiftyyards from it.
After burying the Indians, Partridge started with me for Susanville,taking their ponies with us.
A few days only had passed when Harry Arnold also returned with the restof the Rangers. They had recaptured only a few head of cattle. The restof the herd had been killed by the thieving red-skins, in the samecowardly manner which I have elsewhere detailed.
One might have fancied the lesson they had received at Mud Springs, andthe close pursuit which had induced their main body to resort to thisexpedient, would have kept them quiet. It, however, did not. Theperiodical lust for robbery and bloodshed which seems, from time totime, to possess them, had mastered their nature. More completepunishment could alone stop it.
A week later, George Laithrop sent me a pressing demand to come downwith a few of the boys and pass some time with him. Two Pah-utes hadrecently appeared at the Ranch, and told him they had seen Buckskin Moseand himself kill their two companions and bury them. They had thenthreatened him with prompt vengeance, openly telling him that theyintended not only to kill him and burn his house in a few days, but toslaughter every white man in the valley.
It must be owned that the open hardihood of these threats lookedominous. The red-skin so seldom threatens before he strikes, that itseemed to me the dwellers about the Lake might be exposed to a graverdanger from the Indians, than any they had as yet incurred.
In consequence of this belief, my men were at once summoned. The sameday we started for George's Ranch, and got there after nightfall. Onconsulting with Laithrop, it was considered advisable to keep theRangers as much out of sight as possible, to prevent the red-skins fromrealizing how well he was protected. In compliance with this idea, onlysome half-dozen of the boys, amongst whom was Tom Harvey and myself,became occupants of the house. Half of the remainder were stationed in alarge log _corral_ about one hundred yards distant on the south side.The rest were secreted in an old root-shed, or rather in the cellar ofone, to the west.
George and myself sat by the burning logs on his hearth, talking onuntil a late hour.
Our subject was the red man, and he bitterly denounced the way in whichour Government dealt with such a grave subject. It was, he said,continually patting them on the back, and buying a temporary truce.This, he believed, made the Indians actually think that a power whichhad only to plant its heel firmly upon them and crush them out ofexistence, actually feared their strength. "Greater liars, moreunblushing thieves, as well as more reckless murderers," he continued,never existed. And these were the men whom Uncle Sam protected againsthis own children, whenever the blue-coats appeared upon the frontier.
Nor can I affirm but that he is, in the main, right. It is only byterrible punishment for their crimes, the whites are able to keep thered-skins within anything like reasonable bounds.
My knowledge of them, up to this time, vouched for the necessity ofsuch retaliation. In no case which I have yet recounted had the settlerscommenced an Indian war, if these struggles are entitled to such a name.When we struck, the blow was called for, by gross outrage or bloodiermurder. Since I had met and known them, I had encountered no red-skinwho had dealt squarely with me, except the father of Clo-ke-ta and OldSpotted Tail. And, possibly, of all the tribes I had yet anyacquaintance with, the Pah-utes possessed the fewest virtues and themost thorough vices. George Laithrop's opinion of the Indian, founded ina great measure upon their character, was, in a fuller or lesser degree,shared by all who had ever been brought in contact with them.