CHAPTER XXVII.
Again was there scene of mad excitement among the Indian villages on theChasing Water. Again was Red Dog in saddle, exhorting, declaiming,prophesying, but with no such ready result as during the winter daysgone by. It was one thing to rally to the standard of a war chief andfollow him on a raid against the agent of the Great Father when but ahandful of soldiers could back the authorities. It was quite another torise in revolt when five hundred war-trained blue-coats were aligned todefend him. Within two hours after the exciting scene at the corral theIndians in every band knew that McPhail had launched his ultimatum atthe little village of White Wolf. "Send in Chaska, the assailant of myson, and Thunder Hawk, the boaster, or there is war between the GreatFather and you and yours."
Already had Chaska and Chaska's mother, with three trusty friends,mounted on swift ponies, been spirited away northward, with instructionsto ride all night through the devious trails of the Bad Lands, and neverdraw rein until they reached the shelter of the Uncapapa lodges beyondthe Wakpa Schicha. Already had Red Dog dashed over to the lodge ofThunder Hawk, offering him asylum in the heart of his tribe, andpledging his uttermost brave to his defence. But the old Indian wouldnone of him. Long years before, a fatherless boy, he had been rearedand taught by a priest of the Church of Rome,--is there a people theydo not know, a peril they do not dare?--and when finally his friend andteacher and protector was gathered to his fathers and laid in the oldmission churchyard, the boy drifted back to his tribe, a mature andthoughtful man, to find his kindred among the tents of theOgallallas,--among, worse luck, the malcontents of Red Cloud. From thistime on he had cast his lot with them, marrying, rearing children, yetbut slowly gaining influence among them. When his great and cruel chieflured the garrison of a mountain stockade into the neighboring hills andmassacred every man, Hawk had refused to take part. His heart was not atwar with the whites. When swarms of the warriors left to join the greatrenegade bands gathering under Crazy Horse and Gall to reinforce SittingBull, Hawk had held aloof. "The people of Red Cloud," said he, "have nogrounds for war. The Great Father has done everything he promised themand more," and Red Cloud called him dastard and squaw; but when anIndian girl was missing from her lodge, and the gossips told how she hadbeen lured by a white soldier to the distant banks of the Laramie, Hawkrode thither, rode into the presence of the post commander and told herstory and his, and found and brought her back to her people. He stroveto find the man for whose sake she had abandoned her father's lodge andforfeited her good name. Hawk well knew how futile was her trust thatthe white chief would ever claim her as his wife, but among so manycomrades he was concealed, and Hawk left his message. Sooner or laterhis people should find the white man who had wrought the wrong and hisdays were numbered. Every knife in all his band was whetted for thatparticular scalp. And now again, when Indian blood had been fired by theinsult to the son of White Wolf, he stepped forward to interpose betweenhis people and the fury of the Great Father's man. He had repressed, notincited the wrath of his brothers, but the agent in authority ruledotherwise and demanded his surrender. His people would have fought tosave him. He would suffer willingly rather than that one drop of bloodshould be spilt on his account. Refusing Red Dog's clamorous offer,Thunder Hawk mounted his pony and, despite the wails and lamentations ofhis village, rode forth in calm dignity to meet the coming soldiery, tooffer in silent submission his hands to the clinch of the steel.
The recall had sounded at the cantonment, and mounted orderlies hadgalloped out to bring in such troops as might have trotted too far awayfor the sound. The infantry battalion, practising skirmish drill, hadquickly rallied, re-formed, and was marched within the log walls toexchange blank for ball cartridge and await orders. The four cavalrytroops galloped back to their stables and dismounted, while theirofficers gathered about the major commanding. Cranston to him hadbriefly recounted the story of the excitement as he had heard it fromMcPhail's lips. "I am bound to say, sir," said he, "that Mr. Davies didnot seem to agree with the agent in either his statements or hisconclusions. He considers the agent to have been the aggressor, and ifhe is required to go to arrest Hawk and White Wolf's boy, it will bewith an unwilling hand."
"Yes," said the major, coldly, "the trouble with Davies seems to be thathe has displayed similar unwillingness on previous occasions."
The command of the cantonment had been given to this veteran fieldofficer of infantry, a man whose motto had been fight from boyhood on.For ten days had he been hammering away here, hours at a time, to gethis own battalion in readiness for what he considered the inevitablesummer's work. He had fought every one of the dozen or more tribes ofplains Indians, and considered fighting their normal condition as it washis own. He had made it his boast that during the previous summer hisbattalion, day after day, had outmarched the cavalry, and even while thestatement was misleading, the boast was based on facts. The horses ofthe cavalry, starved and staggering, worn to skin and bone, had to betowed along instead of ridden, and the cavalry were thereforehandicapped. Yet there was not a trooper who did not honor the bluffsenior major, and none who really disliked him, except perhaps thebattalion commander of the cavalry, a gentleman whose gold leaves wereas dazzlingly new as the senior's were old and withered, and just aboutto be changing into silver, the silver of the lieutenant-colonel. Thecontrast between Major White's spirited handling of his battalion offoot and Major Chrome's listless management of a similar body of horsewas vivid in the last degree. The latter and two of his troops belongedto Atherton's fine regiment, the --th, the other two troops, Cranston'sand Truman's, were, as we know, of the Eleventh, and here in presence offour officers of the latter's regiment, and a dozen of the FortiethFoot and of the --th Horse,--here on the broad parade of the cantonment,at high noon and in plain sight and hearing even of three or fourenlisted men, orderlies, horse-holders, etc., had the post commanderspoken words that meant nothing short of discredit, if not disgrace, tothe subaltern who was at that very instant riding away on a perilous aswell as thankless mission. Deep, embarrassed silence fell on one and allof the major's hearers for a single instant. Cranston reddened withindignation, little Sanders with wrath. Truman looked quickly andcuriously about him. All three were eager and ready to speak, yet bycommon consent the duty devolved upon Cranston, who took the floor.
"It would be idle, Major White, to feign ignorance of what you refer to,but let me say right here and now that you have been utterly misled asto that young officer's character, and I doubt if you properly estimatethat of his detractors."
"I base my opinion on a cavalry report, Captain Cranston,--on Mr.Archer's vindication of Captain Devers."
"As one-sided a report as was ever written, sir, for the other side--Mr.Davies--had never a hearing,--never even heard of the investigationitself until a week ago, and is now bound to silence pending action atdepartment head-quarters; but meantime, sir, as a friend of his, and aman who believes in him, I protest against any such impression as youhave received, and I ask you how it is that you can believe such a storyof an officer who, single-handed, arrested Red Dog in the face of hisfollowers? There has been an insidious influence at work against himever since last summer, and we of the Eleventh know just where to placeit."
"If I've wronged him, Cranston, you know me well enough to know thatI'll make every amend possible. I have heard, I own, much more thanArcher's report, so have my brother officers, not only before the recentoutbreak in which he seems to have outwrestled Red Dog, but since. Sincehis recent visit to Scott stories have come to our ears very much to hisdiscredit."
"Not from Leonard, sir, I warrant you," interposed Cranston, hotly.
"No, not from Leonard, for Leonard never talks against anybody, but fromofficers at Scott who seem to speak by the card. There is generalindignation because of his affront to the wife of one of our number. Ifyour friend is so far above suspicion, and did not feel some sense ofthe sentiment against him, why did he utterly shun the society of everyofficer at the post-except the chaplain? It remi
nds me of that Englishsnob who was sent to Coventry for abandoning the Prince Imperial, andthen took refuge in the prayers of the Church."
"Major White, there are reasons for Davies's conduct for which I will beanswerable, and which you could not fail to respect. The fault, sir, layon the other side. This is something that can't be discussed here, for awoman's war is mixed up in it, but if I have any place in your esteem,let me urge you to suspend judgment. While the responsibility for theoriginal wrong done Davies must rest in my regiment, there have beenlater wrongs done him in yours, and I learn it for the first timeto-day."
It was an impressive scene, this impromptu gathering at the foot of theflag-staff while anxiously awaiting further tidings from the agency.Over among the quarters the humid eyes of frightened women peered frommany a door-way, watching with fluttering hearts for sign of action.Stacking arms in front of their barracks, the infantry had been sent into a hurried dinner, and the cavalry horses, saddled, still stood at thelines, watched by a few troopers, while the rest were packingsaddle-bags and taking a bite on their own account. The sentries to theeastward kept gazing over toward the grim stockade and the clusteringgroups of Indian lodges far away down-stream. Ten minutes since a partyof a dozen troopers had been seen to ride slowly away from the agency inthe direction of White Wolf's tepees, a mile beyond; "Davies going todemand the surrender" were the words that passed from mouth to mouth andgave the text for the startling conversation that had just taken place,a topic which was now by common consent dropped as having reached apoint where the utmost caution should be observed. Everybody seemed toknow in some mysterious way that the circulators of the new andunflattering stories about Davies were not so much the invalid colonelor Messrs. Flight and Darling of the Fortieth as their more voluble,active, and dangerous helpmeets. Indeed, the very day Trooper Brannanarrived, transferred by regimental orders from "A" to "C" troop, hebrought one letter from Mrs. Leonard to Mrs. Cranston, and two or three,each, of the missives of Mesdames Stone, Flight, and Darling to ladiesat the cantonment. Mrs. Leonard's letter said that her husband, theadjutant, had been summoned by telegraph to General Sheridan's office inChicago, and he expected to be gone a week. No trace had been found ofthe papers stolen from his desk, but it was undoubtedly on that businessthat he had been sent for, and Mrs. Leonard felt confident that when hereturned it would be with news that full justice would at last beawarded Mr. Davies for his conduct during the campaign as well as at theagency, and Mrs. Leonard could not control the impulse to add, "Ifjustice could only be meted out to his accuser!--but will that man everget his deserts?"
It must be owned that Mrs. Leonard had good grounds for being doubtfulon that point.
Meantime how fared it with the embassy to White Wolf? Smarting under theinjury to his pride and person, McPhail had decided to inflict severehumiliation on the red men prominent in the affair. First, White Wolf'sboy should be made to suffer, and then Thunder Hawk, who had dared tooppose his views, should be ironed as an inciter of riot and placedunder guard. Knowing the feeling of veneration, almost of awe, withwhich Davies was regarded by many of the Indians, he desired to availhimself of the fact and send him to make the arrest, and at last Daviesasserted himself. Calmly, but positively, he refused. "My orders aresimply to protect the agency and the agent and his family from attack,"said he, "not to act as the agent's police."
"Do you refuse to obey my orders?" asked McPhail, angrily.
"You are not empowered to give me any orders, Mr. McPhail,--above all,such orders. It is no question of obedience or disobedience."
"Then I'll ask to have you relieved and sent to your regiment, and someman sent here who will do his duty," said McPhail.
"You cannot do it too soon, sir," was the answer. "It has been mostunwelcome from the start, and I shall now ask to be relieved in anyevent."
And so, finding Davies inflexible, Mr. McPhail had no alternative but togo himself. He had sent his demand; it had met with no response. He mustattempt the arrest in person or become the laughing-stock of his Indianwards. Here at last Davies had to back him. It might be true that theofficer would be sustained in his refusal to go and do his bidding, butif the agent went in person the lieutenant would have to send adetachment as a guard. Davies did more. He calmly informed McPhail thathe should place himself at the head of the party and protect him to theextent of his ability; and so with the detachment as it marched away,watched by many an anxious eye, rode McPhail with his agencyinterpreter.
And when barely half-way to the cluster of tepees among the Cottonwoodsat the point, there came to meet them in solitary state old Thunder Hawkhimself. He wore no barbaric finery. His pony was destitute oftrappings. He, himself, wore not even a revolver. Everything that mightspeak of war or even self-defence was left behind. When within a hundredyards of the foremost horsemen he reined in his pony and calmly awaitedtheir approach.
Half a mile farther down the valley, clustered in front of theirlodges, some of them lashing about on their excited ponies, could beplainly seen the warriors of Red Dog's band, and that that hot-bloodedchief was in their midst could hardly be doubted, though he was too faraway for personal recognition. All at once the seething group seemed toobey some word of command, for it heaved suddenly forward, and,breasting its way through the scattering outskirts, just as it hadadvanced on the agency that moonlit winter's night, the centre burstinto view, one accurate rank of mounted Indians, and in another moment,wheeling and circling, all the individual horsemen came ranging intoline at the flanks, and, reinforced every moment by galloping bravesfrom the villages in the rear, Red Dog's big squadron, like Clan Alpine,came sweeping up the vale. Borne on the breeze like one long wail offoreboding, the weird chant of squaws and stay-behinds was wafted to theears of the agency party. Another instant and the song was taken up inswelling chorus by the coming foe. McPhail, who had spurred eagerlyforward as Thunder Hawk halted, now irresolutely checked his horse andglanced back, as though feeling for the support of the grim and silentguard.
"By God, Mr. Davies, I believe that traitor Red Dog means mischief!"
Making no reply whatever, the lieutenant simply raised his sword arm insignal to his party,--halt! whereat, sniffing the tainted breeze andanxiously eyeing the distant cavalcade, the horses of Davies's partystood nervously pawing and stamping. Evidently they liked the outlook aslittle as did McPhail. And there, all alone, fifty yards out in theirfront now, grave and motionless, still sat old Thunder Hawk.
"Do you suppose they will try to rescue if we arrest him here?" askedMcPhail.
"Very probably. They regard him as a martyr, and so do I," was theanswer.
"Here! gallop to the cantonments for help at once," said McPhail to hisinterpreter. "Say that Red Dog and his whole gang are coming," heshouted, instantly reining about and looking anxiously back. Behind him,nearly a thousand yards, lay the low, squat buildings of his officialstation. Beyond that, nearly two thousand more, and but for the flag andstaff almost indistinguishable from the dull hues of the prairie, exceptto Indian eye, lay the low log walls of the cantonment. Already signs ofalarm and bustle could be seen about the former. A buckboard was justhurriedly driving off, full gallop, for the distant barracks, scuddingfor shelter before the storm should break. Evidently Mrs. McPhail didn'tmean to stand siege in her cellars this time. Already Lutz, who remainedwith the reserve, had mounted his men and was trotting out to thesupport of the advance. Already the long, barbaric array of Red Dog'sband had come within rifle-range, and their clamoring chief, allbristling with eagle feathers, rode up and down across their advancingfront, brandishing aloft his gleaming rifle. "Watch him as you would asnake," indeed! Here he came once more in open, defiant hostility, bentbeyond possibility of doubt on instant attack should the agent attemptto lay hands on Thunder Hawk.
"Come in here, Hawk. I suppose you surrender!" yelled McPhail,nervously. Evidently something had to be done, and done at once.
"Not to you," was the determined answer. "I will surrender to soldierswhen they dema
nd, and to them only, and I'll await justice as theirprisoner and not as yours."
"My God! Mr. Davies, you've _got_ to do something!" wailed the agent,shrinking still farther back now, as Red Dog's line unmistakablyquickened the pace and the earth began to quiver and tremble.
"Take the men and fall back towards the agency, sir," said Davies,quickly, sternly, and then without an instant's hesitation spurredforward. As he rode he whipped off his right gauntlet, and then haltingwithin a horse-length of the silent warrior, held out his bare hand."Thunder Hawk, this is the hand of a friend. Will you ride with me andturn Red Dog back?"
"I will go with you wherever you say."
Over among the lodges of Thunder Hawk's people the signs of intenseexcitement were on the increase. Women and young girls had taken up theweird war-song of the advancing array. Young men springing to theirponies and no longer able to restrain their desire to act in his behalf,all forgetful of his injunction, came galloping forth to join the bandof Red Dog riding to the rescue. Over at the agency, far to the rear,there was mad flurry and consternation. Women and children of the fewemployes, now that there was a military post within range, weregathering up such valuables as they could carry and scurrying away alongthe cantonment road. Conscious of his own impotence, McPhail had lostthe last vestige of his truculent manner and, eagerly availing himselfof Davies's advice, turned nervously to the senior corporal of thelittle squad of troopers and said, "Fall back! We've got to fall back tothe reserve." The corporal glanced first at him, irresolutely, then backat the coming reserve now spurring forward with Lutz at their head, thenaround at the whirl and turmoil and trouble in the villages, at RedDog's now "magnificently stern array," and finally at the two figures,calmly, slowly riding straight at the very centre of the advancing line,straight at the heart of Red Dog's chanting battalion; and then, whenMcPhail nervously repeated his instructions, and, adding example toprecept, turned and strove to lead the party in retreat, brieflyaddressed first his fellows and then the agent.
"Stand fast, men!--You--go to hell!"
A moment later and far out at the front now the two figures had halted,a strange contrast. The man on the right, tall, slender, of athletic andgraceful build, clad in trim simple undress uniform of the cavalry,sitting his horse as straight as a young pine; the other, bent,blanket-robed, hunched up on his pony in the peculiarly ungraceful poseof the Indian rider when at rest, but resolute and immovable; bothsublimely devoted in the duty now before them. When by the sweepingadvance of the Indian line these two, the young officer, the oldsub-chief, were brought nearly midway between the little party ofblue-coats and the great rank of red warriors, both men as by commonimpulse threw upward the right hand, signalling "Stand where you are!"to the coming line.
And recognizing their challengers, little by little, gradually reiningin, the Indians obeyed. Only Red Dog, followed closely by Elk, sullenly,angrily continued the advance; his fierce eyes, avoiding Davies's calmface, were bent glowering upon his fellow-tribesman.
"Why is Thunder Hawk here?" was his demand in the Ogallalla tongue. "Ishe ally or prisoner of the soldiers?"
"Thunder Hawk is their friend and the friend of his people. The whitechief came as his friend and brother to protect him from indignity. Nowas friends and brothers we stand between Red Dog and the wrong he woulddo. Only over our bodies shall Red Dog move another lance-length againstthe Great Father's people."
Davies could not comprehend this talk, but there was no mistaking itsimport or its effect on the rabid chief. Furiously Red Dog pressedforward, his rifle still clutched in his sinewy hand.
"Thunder Hawk is a traitor and a liar! He has sold himself to thewhites! He is their prisoner, and when they have used him they will ironand brand and starve him. Even a sub-chief of the Dakotas shall not liveto be their tool. Thunder Hawk rides back with us at once or dies hereand now." And around came the ready weapon, muzzle to the front, withRed Dog's hand at the guard.
"Ride back to your men, lieutenant," muttered the old Indian. "You havemy word that I will join you as soon as I can, but this man is crazed.He means to force a fight."
"If that be so my place is here with you," was the answer. "What does hedemand?" "No parlying with your soldier friends," shouted Red Dog,again in the Sioux tongue. Then, as though losing all control of himselfin his hatred of his captor, he dashed furiously at Davies. "Back!" heshouted. "Back!" And he pointed with grand dramatic action up thevalley. "Back to your own people! This is Indian land." Then seeing thathis words fell on heedless ears and that Davies never relaxed his cool,steadfast gaze into the raging red face, he fell into such English as heknew. "Run or I kill."
And then Lutz and his reserve, just reaching their comrades underCorporal Clanton, saw a sudden flash of sunshine from the silvermountings of the Indian's beautiful Winchester as it was whirled to thebrawny shoulder, saw sudden rear and plunge of Davies's spirited horse,a grapple as though in mid-air, and with a mad cry of "My God! They'llmurder him!" young trooper Brannan dashed forward from the ranks just asthe shot from Red Dog's rifle whirled harmless into space, and horse andman, the pride of the Ogallalla hostiles, were rolling in the dust,overthrown by the officers heavier charger, while the butt of thepolished weapon, wrested from the warrior's grasp and wielded bymuscular hand, came down with resounding whack on the head of thestruggling chief, and for the second time, in the very face of hisastonished braves, Red Dog, the redoubtable, went sprawling to earth,downed by the white chief whom he affected to despise.
In the fierce mellay that followed the advantage lay with the first tomove. Lutz and his party had not really checked their gait, and soleaped into the charge with a flying start. Sixteen ready troopers haddarted forward to the support of their beloved young officer. ThunderHawk had lashed his pony so as to interpose between him and the rush ofthe Indian band, but even as those red-skins nearest the centre, wherethe drums and rattles were keeping up their low, threatening din, withone impulse dashed forward to rescue the chief, those on the flanks,far-seeing, held wisely back, even while around the prostrate chiefthere raged for a brief, hot, furious moment a wild babel of threat andexecration, a mad whirl of brandishing knives and pistols and naked redlimbs and brawny arms in dusty blue, Hawk and two other stalwart Siouxhad thrown themselves between avenging blows and the young white chief,standing afoot now with pale, set face, over his writhing victim. Lutzand his men, lunging in among the lighter ponies, bore them back bysheer force of weight. 'Only one or two shots were heard; even in thatfrantic turmoil friend and foe alike seemed to realize that a battlemust be avoided so long as each side held possession of its own. Andthen from the outskirts came loud yells of warning. By fives and tensthe mounted warriors melted hurriedly away, and presently all the broadprairie to the eastward, back toward the lodges from which they came,was alive with circling, darting, screaming red-skins, keeping up theirshrill appeal to brethren still hot-handed in the struggle for out frombehind the curtain of the agency corral swept the long column ofgalloping horse under its curtaining cloud of dust, and down at fullspeed came the whole squadron, far more than Red Dog's band dare tacklein heady fight. Out from beneath his struggling pony they dragged him,bleeding and bedaubed with sweat and paint and blood, and whenpresently as the long skirmish line of Cranston's troop swept over thespot and drove before it all the mounted warriors, only two or three ofthe faithful remained to share the fortunes of their fallen chief, forlike Thunder Hawk, Red Dog was the prisoner, not of the Great Father'sagent, who was somewhere far to the rear, but of the soldier chief ofthe cantonments, who came galloping up in the wake of the cavalry,wrathful, if anything, that the whole thing was over without a fight.
And then, and not until nearly ten minutes after he had downed his man,was it noticed that Mr. Davies had not recovered color, that he was toofaint to remount his horse.
"What is it, lad?" murmured Cranston, with keen anxiety in his eyes.
"I'm stabbed, captain. I--think you'd better not let Mrs. Davies know."
&n
bsp; But Davies need not have worried on that score. When a little later theybore him, faint, unconscious from loss of blood, to his own roof at theagency, there was lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of woman'stears,--Mira had fled with the McPhails with the first alarm, and was inhiding somewhere up at the cantonment.