Captured by the Navajos
XIII
THE BOY SERGEANTS DO GOOD SERVICE
Frank dropped flat upon the earth and worked his way to the cabinwithout being seen. Instantly I received a signal from Mr. Hopkinsthrough a back window, and a moment later Mr. Hudson looked out of aback door and raised his hat. I was glad to see that his collegecareer was still a possibility.
Hurrying back to the ambulance, I caused the animals to be grouped incharge of the driver and two soldiers, and with the rest of the detailmoved in the direction of the ranch buildings.
It had become so dark that we might possibly have passed over the openspace without being seen, but, for fear of accidents, we covered it,as Frank had done, on all fours. The first persons I met when I roseto a vertical position were Hudson and Frank, who took me to Mr.Hopkins. The ranchman greeted me with the assurance that the arrivalof my party was a godsend, and had probably saved their scalps.
I learned that the men at Date Creek, including the mail-carrier,numbered seven; that three were in the stable and four in the house.These buildings were the same distance from the stream, and fifty feetapart. The bank of the creek was perpendicular for a mile either way,standing fully twelve feet above the surface of the water; but therewas a notch with a sloping descent, midway between the buildings, downwhich the live-stock was driven to water. This slope offered the onlypracticable point of attack, unless the Indians chose to move by oneof our flanks over a long level.
Mr. Hopkins said he had crept out to the shrubbery on the edge of theprecipitous river-bank, to the left of the slope, just before myarrival, and had seen on the opposite shore a small party of menmoving through the willow branches towards our left. He believed itwas a flanking-party, intending to make a feint from that directionand enable the main body to charge through the notch in the bank.Believing the repelling force to be but seven, the Indians were quitesure of success.
I was convinced that Mr. Hopkins's inferences were correct; but inorder that no mistake should be made, I sent two veterans in frontierservice, Privates Clary and Hoey, to reconnoitre both flanks. Theywere gone half an hour, and returned with the information that nodemonstration was being made towards our right, but that a dozen ormore men had gathered on the opposite shore, at a point where theycould cross and turn our left flank.
Preparations to meet this movement were begun at once. Sergeant Frankwas sent to the ambulance with orders for the men in charge to bringin the animals, two at a time, and fasten them in the rear of thestable and stack. This was easily accomplished in the darkness. Theambulance was left in charge of Vic.
While this was going on, and I was overlooking the construction ofrifle-shelters on the flanks, Sergeant Henry approached and asked ifhe could not be of some use. Something in the tone of the boy's voiceshowed me he felt he had been neglected, while his brother had beenkept busy.
"What would you like to do?" I asked.
"Does a soldier choose his duty, sir?" was the reply, uttered withsome dignity.
"Not usually, sergeant, it is true. I have a very important thing foryou to do--something for which I was intending to look you up. Go andfind Private Clary, and tell him to help you carry several armfuls ofhay from the stack to the right of the slope. Make a heap, so thatwhen it is lighted it will illuminate the approach from the creek. AskMr. Hopkins if he has any kerosene or other inflammable stuff tosprinkle on the hay and make it flash up quickly and burn brilliantly.Then throw up a shelter in which you can lie and be ready to light thehay when signalled."
"Yes, sir. Thank you. I'll attend to everything."
Not more than fifteen minutes had elapsed when the boy sergeantreturned and informed me that the bundle of hay was prepared and ashelter constructed.
"Mr. Hopkins has two gallons of axle-grease and two quarts of spiritsof turpentine."
"Excellent. Mix them together and sprinkle the hay thoroughly. Thenplace yourself in the shelter, and when you see a light flash from thewest window of the house light your bonfire."
"I'll do so, sir," and the boy ran away in the darkness.
An hour had passed when loud whoops gave us warning of the enemy'sapproach. It was the war-cry of the terrible Apaches. Not a sound camefrom the creek. I strained my eyes in that direction, but nothing wasvisible in the black darkness beneath the pendulous branches of thewillows.
At last I saw the fixed reflections of the stars in the surface of thepool diffuse themselves into myriads of sparkling atoms. Aconsiderable body of Indians must be in the water, but none appearedin sight. Yes, they were crossing in two columns, to the right andleft of the notch, concealed by the high shore, and would shortlyunite and charge up the slope. Baldwin ran to the stable to tell themen there that the Apaches were coming, and to be on the alert.
The whoops of the flanking party redoubled, and were accompanied by adesultory firing, which the four men opposing them answered in thesame way. Then I saw the sparkling water of the pool cut off from mysight, and knew that a body of men stood on the slope between us andthe creek.
"Frank, show the light! Men, ready!"
The lantern flashed from the window, quickly answered by a flash onthe bank, and a mass of red flame threw its luminous tresses skyward,bathing the whole scene in light. In the notch, half-way up the slope,stood a momentarily paralyzed group of nearly a hundred paintedwarriors. Every rifle in the hands of the white men in the twobuildings spoke, and instantly the notch emptied itself pell-mell ofits living throng. Only a few prostrate bodies showed the Apaches hadbeen there.
With the discharge of fire-arms a silence immediately fell upon thescene, in marked contrast to the shrieking and yelling of a momentbefore. The bonfire burned low, and went out. Once more we were indarkness.
We believed the Indians would make no further demonstration, and anhour later a scouting party ascertained that they had gathered theirdead and departed. Sentinels were posted, the ambulance run in byhand, the stock fed, and a midnight meal cooked.
While sitting by the camp-fire, listening to the sizzling of the baconand sniffing the aroma of the coffee, Mr. Hopkins introduced me to hismen and guests, and I heard an explanation of the tracks and blood atSoldiers' Holes.
Early that morning three gentlemen, who had passed the night at theranch, started for Prescott. They were a Mr. Gray, a Scotch merchantat La Paz; Mr. Hamilton, a lawyer of the same place; and a Mr.Rosenberg, a freighter. When near the Holes, Mr. Hamilton, who wasriding in advance, was shot by Indians concealed in the sage-brush.Mr. Rosenberg's mule was wounded, and plunged so that his rider fellto the ground. Mr. Gray, seeing the plight of the freighter, rode tohis side, seized him by the collar, and aided him to leap to a seatbehind him.
It is probable that this act of generous daring might have ended inthe death of both men but for a diversion caused by the sudden andunexpected appearance of the military expressman. He came up a slopefrom a lower level, and, taking in the situation at a glance, let flythree shots from his breech-loading carbine that caused the Indians tolie low. The three men rode to the ranch, and Mr. Hopkins and histhree workmen accompanied them to bring in the body of Mr. Hamilton.The Indians did not begin to concentrate at the creek until after theburial.
Supper being over, the boys and I were getting into our blankets forthe rest of the night, when Mr. Hudson, who had been preparing todepart, came to bid us good-bye.
"I seem to take frequent leave of you, these times, lieutenant," hesaid.
"Yes; and your farewell ride with the Whipple mail so far seems tohave been anything but monotonous. I think the _Anabasis_ would be amore suitable subject of study on this route than the _Memorabilia_."
"'Hence they proceeded one day's journey, a distance of fiveparasangs, and fell in with the barbarians,' might well be said ofthis trip, for a fact."
"Hadn't you better travel with me the rest of the way?"
"I think we have seen the last of the Apaches. They do not range southand west of here. Good-bye, sir."
"Good-bye, until we meet at Tyson's Wells."
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The next morning, when the boys, Vic, and I were taking our places inthe ambulance, Mr. Hopkins and his men, Mr. Gray and Mr. Rosenberg,approached us mounted. They informed me that they were going to LaPaz.
"The Ingins are gettin' a little too thick here," observed theranchman. "I find it diffikilt to git proper rest after a hard day'swork. Think I'll stay away until Uncle Sam's boys thin 'em out alittle more."
"Can I obtain a five or ten gallon keg of you, Mr. Hopkins?" I asked."Ours was accidentally smashed on the road."
"Haven't a keg to my name, lieutenant. One way 'n' ernuther all's beensmashed, give away, or lent."
The ride from the ranch to the edge of the desert plain was twelvemiles, a portion of it over a rugged ridge. To the point where we wereto ford the creek was two miles, and there the hired men, pack-mules,and ranch cattle turned off on the Bill Williams Fork route to theRio Colorado.
Once on the level of the Xuacaxella our team broke into a brisk trot,and we rolled along with a fair prospect of soon crossing the onehundred miles between Date Creek and La Paz. Messrs. Gray, Rosenberg,and Hopkins shortly turned into a bridle-path which led into a mine.Before taking leave of us Mr. Gray told me that my camping-place forthe night would be at the point of the third mountain-spur whichjutted into the plain from the western range.
We had not travelled long before we realized our misfortune in havingsmashed our water-keg. Each individual in our party possessed athree-pint army canteen, which had been filled when we forded thecreek in the early dawn. These were to last us until evening, throughan exceedingly sultry day. Frank, Henry, and I did our best toovercome our desire for water, but the younger boy could not refusethe appeals of Vic, when she looked up with lolling tongue andbeseeching eyes to the canteens.
The men were the greatest sufferers, unless I except their horses.Long before mid-day their canteens were empty and their mouths so drythat articulation was difficult and they rarely spoke.
At five we arrived opposite the third spur, where we found a wandsticking in the ground and holding in its cleft end a slip of paper.It proved to be a note from Mr. Hudson, saying that this was the placeto camp, and the Black Tanks were on the southern side of the spur,three miles distant.
In a few minutes, with the horses and mules divested of saddles,bridles, and harnesses, leaving two men behind to guard the propertyand collect fuel for a fire, we were on the way to water.
Hurrying along, we saw before us a long, irregular range, apparentlythree thousand feet in height, which had been cleft from summit tobase as if by a wedge. In this rent we found water--water deposited ina natural reservoir by the periodical rainfalls in millions ofgallons, a reservoir never known to be dry.
Climbing over the dike which enclosed the main deposit, we descendedto the cistern, filled our cups, and swallowed the contents withouttaking a breath. When we dipped up a second, Tom Clary looked into thedepths of his cup with knitted brows.
"Whist, now, sergeant laddies!" he exclaimed. "Look into the wather!It's aloive with wigglers of ivery variety. They're 's plinty as paysin a soup."
"Ugh! And we are full of them, too, Tom," said Henry, looking into hiscup with narrow-eyed anxiety.
Pausing in the act of taking a second drink, I looked into my cup, andsaw that it contained myriads of animalcula and larvae, which zigzaggedfrom side to side in the liveliest manner.
"Will they hurt us, Tom?" questioned Henry.
"I rickon they've got the worst of it, sergeant laddie; but I thinkI'd fale a bit aisier if I was blindfolded or takin' a drink in thedark. I prefer me liquid refrishment with a little less mate, not tominshin its bein' less frisky."
We had come to the Cisternas Negras with towels, intending to wash offthe dust of travel. We now used one of them to strain the water, andwere astonished to see that each gallon left behind it a plumpspoonful of animalcula. The water was sweet, but, after discoveringthe abundant life in it, we deferred drinking more of it until it hadbeen boiled.
As we pursued the narrow path to camp in single file, we noticed Vic aconsiderable distance to the right, scouting and nosing about in anearnest manner. Evidently she thought she had made an importantdiscovery, for she several times paused and looked in our directionand barked. But we were too hungry to investigate, and soon shedisappeared from our view.
When we reached the ambulance the boys put a few cakes of hard breadin their pockets, and, taking their shot-guns, went out to look forsome "cottontails" while supper was being prepared. Believing we werewell out of the range of hostile Indians, I did not object to theirgoing alone. They passed a considerable distance beyond the growth of_Cereus giganteus_, over a level stretch covered with knee-highbunch-grass and desert weeds, without seeing a hare. Pausing on thebrink of a shoal, dry ravine, they stood side by side, and rested thebutts of their guns upon the ground. Just then a shout of "Supper!supper!" came from the group at the camp-fire.
"Hate to go back without anything," said Frank, so I afterwards heard."Strange we can't see a rabbit now, when we saw dozens on the way tothe Tanks."
"That's because we didn't have a gun," said Henry.
"You don't believe the rabbits knew we weren't armed then and know weare now?"
"Hunters tell bigger stories than that about 'Brer Rabbit.' Not onehas bobbed up since we got our guns."
Suddenly from the flat surface of the plain, not twenty yards fromwhere the boys stood, where nothing but bunch-grass and low shrubberygrew, sixteen Indians sprang up to full height, like so manyJacks-in-a-box.