Captured by the Navajos

  XVIII

  ON THE TRAIL OF THE APACHES

  After a further delay, to allow the scouts and their broncos tobreakfast, the party mounted and turned to the west. Calling PaulWeaver to ride by my side, I questioned him about the region beforeus.

  "I suppose you are familiar with this part of the country, Paul?"

  "Ought t' be. Trapped and hunted here since I was twenty, and I'm nighon to sixty-five now."

  "Have these Apaches a camping-place near here?"

  "Yes; they spend a part of every year here-abouts, gatherin' mezcal.From the direction they've took, I b'lieve they're goin' to SantyMaree Creek."

  "That flows into Bill Williams Fork, does it not?"

  "Yes, an' 't has a northern and southern branch. One of th' favoritecampin'-places of th' Mezcalleros 's on th' southern branch."

  "How far is it from here?"

  "'Bout fifty mile."

  "Easy of approach?"

  "Toler'ble; good ridin' all th' way, 'cept a bit of bowlder country ona divide."

  "Is the camp open to attack?"

  "Wide open arter yer git into th' valley. There's a waterfall, or,rather, a piece of rips ther' that 'll drown th' n'ise of our comin'."

  "Isn't it strange Indians should camp in such a place?"

  "They're Mezcallero 'Paches, and the'r food, th' mezcal, grows thickround ther'. 'Sides, ther's no other place on th' stream combinin'grazin' and waterin', and they've never been hunted into that regionyit."

  "Well, Paul, they will be now."

  I urged the men on as fast as possible, taking care not to exhaust thehorses and unfit them for a long pursuit. The soldiers were animatedby a strong desire to punish the Indians for their treatment of thefamily in Skull Valley, and were excited by the fear that the gentleand beautiful young girl in their hands might fall a victim to somebarbaric cruelty before they could be overtaken, so that the animalswere constantly urged close to their powers of endurance.

  Near the middle of the forenoon, as the soldiers were riding up acanon, on each side of which rose rugged sandstone precipices, we cameto a fork in the trail and the canon. Not only the track parted, but,judging from footprints, most of the captured stock had passed to theright. Weaver said the right-hand path led to the northern branch ofthe Santa Maria, and the left to the southern.

  I halted the detachment, perplexed. To divide my party of twenty-ninein order to follow both trails seemed to me to be inviting disaster.To take the whole number over a wrong trail and not rescue Brenda wasa course to be dreaded. I called up the scouts, Weaver and Cooler, fora consultation.

  "Don't you think it is probable," I asked, "that a girl who wasthoughtful enough to drop a 'sign' to show she is alive and a captive,would be likely to give a hint here as to which trail she was takenover?"

  "That's prob'ble, liftinint," replied Weaver. "'F you'll hold th' boyshere a bit, George an' I'll ride up th' two trails a piece an' lookfor signs."

  "Go quite a distance, too. She might not get an opportunity to dropanything for some time after leaving the fork."

  "That's true, sir," said Cooler; "the redskins would naturally bewatching her closely. Which way will you go, Paul?"

  "Let the liftinint say," answered the elder scout, tightening his beltand readjusting his equipments for resuming his riding.

  "All ready, then," said I. "You take the right, Weaver, and George theleft. While you are gone we'll turn out the stock."

  The scouts departed, and a few moments later the horses of the commandwere cropping the rich grass of the narrow valley, sentinels wereplaced to watch them and look for the return of the guides, and therest of the men threw themselves upon the turf to rest.

  An hour passed away, when Weaver was seen returning from the northerntrail. As he approached he held something above his head. Directingthe horses to be made ready, I walked forward to meet him, andreceived from his hand a small bow of blue ribbon, which I at oncerecognized to be the property of Brenda.

  It now appeared certain the girl captive had been taken over the roadto the right; so, without waiting for the return of Cooler, the menwere ordered into their saddles, and we started along the northerntrail. Our march had not long continued, however, when Private TomClary, who was riding in the rear, called to me. Looking back, I sawthe young scout galloping rapidly forward and waving his hat in abeckoning manner.

  A halt was ordered, and Cooler rode up to me and placed in my hand _alock of flaxen hair, bound with a thread of the same_. Placed by theother they were twin tresses, except that the last was slightly singedby fire.

  Well, tears glistened on the eyelids of some of the bronzed veteransat the sight of the tiny lock of hair. We had barely escaped takingthe wrong trail.

  "God bliss the darlint," said grizzled Tom Clary. "There's not aridskin can bate her with their tricks. We'll bring her back to herfrinds, b'ys, or it'll go hard wid us."

  Clary's remarks were subscribed to by many hearty exclamations on thepart of his fellow-soldiers. We had no difficulty in understandingthat the Apaches had expected to be pursued and had dropped the ribbonto mislead us, and that Brenda had dropped her "sign" to set herfriends right.

  I asked the guides if it was not probable the Apaches had set a watchon the overlooking heights to see which road we should take at thispoint.

  "It's sartin', liftinint," answered Weaver; "they're watchin' us sharpjest now."

  "Then we had better continue on the northern trail awhile and misleadthem, you think?"

  "That's it, liftinint. That's th' best thing to do. We needn't reachtheir camp until after midnight, an' we might 's well spend th' timemisleadin' em."

  "Yes, and it'll be better to reach them a few hours after midnight,too," added Cooler; "they sleep soundest then."

  "Then we will go on as we began for some time longer," I replied, andthe soldiers again moved at a brisk canter over the northern trail.

  An hour passed, and a halt was made in a grassy nook, where the horseswere turned out to graze until dusk. Our route was then retraced tothe fork and the march resumed over the southern branch.

  Night overtook us on a high ridge covered with loose, roundedbowlders, over which it was necessary to lead the horses slowly, withconsiderable clatter and some bruises to man and beast. The rough roadlasted until a considerable descent was made on the western side, andended on the edge of a grassy valley.

  At this point Weaver advised that the horses should be left and thecommand proceed on foot; for if the Indians were in camp at the rapidsit would be impossible to approach mounted without alarming them,while if on foot the noise of the rushing water would cover the soundof all movements.

  Six men were sent back to a narrow defile to prevent the attackingparty from being surprised by the detachment of Indians which hadtaken the northern trail, should they intend to rejoin their friendsat the rapids. Upon the recommendation of the scouts I determined todefer making an attack until after three o'clock, for they assured methat at that time the enemy would be feeling quite secure from pursuitand be in their deepest sleep.

  The horses were picketed, guards posted, and a lunch distributed, andall not on duty lay down to wait. Time dragged slowly. About oneo'clock a noise on the opposite side of the creek attracted attention,and Cooler crept away in the darkness to ascertain its cause. In halfan hour he returned with the information that the party of Mezcalleroswho had taken the northern trail had rejoined their friends and turnedtheir animals into the general herd. Upon learning this I despatched amessenger to call in the six men sent to guard the defile.

  When the time for starting arrived one man only was left with thepicketed horses, and the rest of us slipped down the slope to theriver-bottom, taking care not to rattle arms and equipments, and begana slow advance along a narrow pathway, the borders of which werelined with the spiked vegetation of the country.

  Moving on for some time, I judged from the sound of flowing water thatwe were nearing the camp, and, halting the party, sent the scouts toreconn
oitre. They returned with the information that the camp wasclose at hand, and contained thirteen mat and skin covered tents, orhuts, and that the stolen stock and Indian ponies were grazing on aflat just beyond. No guards were visible.

  The flat about the encampment was covered with Spanish-bayonet,soapweed, and cacti, with here and there a variety of palmetto, whichattains a height of about twenty-five feet, the trunks shaggy with afringe of dead spines left by each year's growth. Cooler suggestedthat at a given signal the trunks of two of these trees should be seton fire to light up the camp, and enable the soldiers to pick off theApaches as they left their shelter when our attack should begin. Healso proposed that we yell, saying: "If you out-yell 'em, lieutenant,you can out-fight 'em."

  Although I seriously doubted whether twenty-five white throats couldmake as much noise as half a dozen red ones, I consented to theproposition. I sent nine men to the flat upon which the ponies andcattle were grazing, with orders to place themselves between the creekand herd, and when the firing began drive the animals into the hills.

  When these instructions had been given, Surgeon Coues asked me if thefiring would be directed into the tents.

  "Yes, doctor," I replied.

  "Of course, Miss Brenda is in one of them," he observed.

  "Yes, and if we shoot into them indiscriminately we are quite aslikely to hit her as any one."

  "Can you think of any way of locating her?"

  "No; I am at a dead loss. We will try Cooler's plan of yelling, andperhaps that will bring the Indians out."

  I sent Clary, who had been directed to remain near me, for SergeantRafferty, and when the sergeant appeared directed him to forbid anyone to fire a shot until ordered to do so.