Under Fire

  CHAPTER VIII.

  Morning dawned over the bivouacs along the stream in hilarity unknownfor previous weeks. The sun that for a fortnight had refused his face,and sent wet skies to weep in sympathy with the hungering column, nowthat the troopers no longer cared a rap whether he sulked or shone, cameforth in all his glory to surround and beam upon and showercongratulation as do mundane friends who hold aloof when days are darkand troublous, yet swarm like bees when dazzling and unexpectedprosperity bursts upon the lately fallen. Merrily rang the reveille as"jocund day" came riding o'er the misty mountain-tops. With joke andsong and laughter answered the war-worn men, scores of whom hadalternately dozed and cooked and eaten and drunk all the live-longnight. Vain were counsels of captains and doctors. Soldier stomachs thatcould tackle mule and horse meat could stand any load, said the boys,and loaded accordingly. Cheer and laughter and merry-making, fun andchaff and jollity, ran through the ranks, where all, but another sunagone, was silence and despond. The rough campaign was practically over.Only scattered bands of hostiles remained, in this part of the countryat least. Rest and recuperation for those "tatterdemalions" would be theenforced order of the day for a month to come, for while they mightreadily and speedily build up, it would take many a week to remount thecolumn or restore such horses as remained. Here among the Cottonwoods,with fire and water and food at hand, the men could have loafed incomfort and content a month, if need be; but here was no grass, andbarely a nibble of oats could be distributed for each surviving horsefrom the scanty supply hurried forward the previous day. Before noon,therefore, after another morning devoted principally to breakfasting,the trumpets were sounding "boots and saddles." No need to sound "TheGeneral" with its stirring summons to "Strike your tents and marchaway," for tents had long months before been struck--by the pen of thecommander--from the list of camp equipage to be taken to the field. "Wewere only waiting for Warren to come on," explained an aide of thegeneral to a regimental commander, "and we've sent him word to meet uson the Birchwood farther up among the hills. We'll camp there to-night.What kept him, do you suppose?"

  But the colonel couldn't imagine. Away down the valley to the eastwardWarren's men had slept, as they had marched, much later,--those of themwho could sleep at all, for all through the night there had been causeof disturbance to more than a few of the command. It was late before thedemands of hunger were appeased. Little fires blazed all through thetimber, and men cooked and ate until they could eat and drink and cookno more. Then the luxury of tobacco kept many awake. Then came advancedtroopers to say Devers was coming in, and despite the fact that two goodand gallant comrades would no more gather with them about the camp-fire,there went up a cheer of welcome, and many men ran to meet the wornarrivals, to take their horses to feed and water so that the mastersmight be fed at once, and the major's first thought had been to welcomehis subordinate and fill him with comfort before requiring of himdetailed account of the day's doings. "I hardly expected you so soon,"he said; "but here's coffee all ready, baker's bread fresh in townyesterday,--think of it!--and bacon and flapjacks. Your men must bepretty tired."

  "They're about used up," said Devers; "but of course when we got yourinstructions to come on we came."

  "Oh, I didn't mean you to come on if you were in camp for the night. Ourmen would rather eat than sleep and we thought yours would; buthere--swallow this," said he, hospitably. "This is no time for business.I haven't tasted anything so good as that coffee in years."

  "Thanks," said Devers, pulling gratefully at the steaming tin. "That_is_ good. I'm glad, for my part, you told us to come along," he wenton, reverting again to the subject of the major's note. "We shouldn'thave done anything of the kind, of course, otherwise,--especially withDavies still out."

  "_What!_ Isn't Davies with you?" asked Warren, with sudden anxiety andsuspicion. "Why, I thought----"

  "Well, we couldn't wait for him, you know, in face of your directions,"said the captain, his eyes glancing quickly, almost furtively, from oneto another of the bearded faces about him, for Truman, Hastings,Calvert, and all the officers of the little command had gathered. "Ofcourse, I sent couriers right out to guide him----"

  "Why--what I meant was for you to bring him along," said the major,gravely, yet not unkindly. "I felt sure, of course, you were withincommunicating distance at least, even if he hadn't come in. What didthat smoke turn out to be when you got a closer look at it?"

  "We--didn't get any closer look," answered Devers, in apparent surprise."You ordered me to bury my dead and then go on. We had just buried themwhen your next orders reached us,--to join you at once. These, ofcourse, superseded the others."

  There was profound silence. The major stood by the camp-fire, his handsclasped behind his back, looking full in the face of the troopcommander, all the old sayings that he had ever heard with regard toDevers crowding upon him now. When promoted to the regiment only just intime to join it on this hard campaign, and when assigned to the commandof this battalion in which Devers was senior captain, the colonelhimself had said, "Be on your guard with Devers. He's the trickiest ofsubordinates." Old Riggs, lieutenant-colonel commanding the Twelfth, hadremarked, "So Devers is in your battalion, is he? Well, when you wanthim to do anything you stand over him while he's at it, or else do ityourself." An intimate friend and classmate whom he had not seen foryears had given the new major this significant pointer: "There's a manwho could be one of the most valuable officers in service if he devotedto obeying an order one-tenth the energy he throws into finding a way ofavoiding it." Yet, in the honesty and earnestness of his own character,Warren was slow to suspect a fellow-soldier of disloyalty. The campaignhad gone on without special friction, though he remembered that he hadheard Hastings swearing _sotto voce_ more than once at Devers'scantankerous ways, and he recalled now two or three incidents--littlethings--in which Devers claimed to have misunderstood instructions; butthis was so glaring, so gross a departure from both the spirit andletter of the orders he had given when face to face with the captain,that for a moment or two he was at a loss what to say. He was indignant,too, but it was a rule of his to control his temper and never speak to asubordinate in wrath. He had broken it that morning and was sorry; sowhen at last he trusted himself to speak, he said,--

  "It must have been more than six hours ago that I told you to bury thosetwo men and then go on. Surely, captain, you could not have taken allthis time."

  "It was nearly five o'clock, sir, when you ordered me to bury my dead aswell as I could, and only a little after eight when we finished it;meantime, we had to march seven or eight miles before we could find aplace where we could bury them at all well."

  "Why, I meant you to bury them right then and there, just where youwere, not go marching in search of a place."

  "But we couldn't bury them there; major, I had no tools to dig graves ina hard prairie----"

  "Then you mean that you failed to go on after Davies,--failed to supporthim?--that you haven't seen him since I gave those orders? My heaven,Captain Devers! I told you never to let him out of your sight."

  "Oh, he wasn't out of sight until darkness,--that is, he was frequentlyin sight. I not only saw, but communicated with him until that time."

  "Thank God for that, at least! If he wasn't attacked before dark he'sprobably safe,--Indians are cowards in the dark. He ought to be comingalong presently, I suppose. He couldn't have been more than a mile or soeast of you."

  But to this observation, half query, half self-consolation, CaptainDevers made no verbal response. He bowed his head as he took a long swigat his can of coffee, and then a big bite into a ham sandwich ofportentous size. The major and one or two others considered it a nod ofassent, and ascribed to ravenous hunger the captain's failure to respondby word of mouth. Partially relieved of his anxiety on Davies's accountand unwilling to spoil a gentleman's first supper after such longdeprivation, the battalion commander turned away, saying,--

  "Well, eat and drink till you're comforted, anyhow, captain, then we canhear all
about it. I'll take a smoke meantime." Truman and Hastingsjoined him at a fallen Cottonwood a few yards away, and the threepuffed their pipes and thanked Providence for the mercies that had comewith the close of the day. And then the officer of the guard appeared toask a question about the posting of the pickets, and, leaving the otherswith Devers, the major strode off with the officer through the timber tosatisfy himself as to the security of the horses for the night, and whenhe returned--not having been gone ten minutes--Devers had disappeared.

  "I wanted to hear his report," said Warren, "and told him so. I supposedhe understood." To which neither of his subordinates made reply. Whenten minutes more elapsed and Devers did not come, Hastings, noting themajor's impatience, called to the orderly trumpeter sitting at theneighboring fire,--

  "Raney, go and see if Captain Devers is over with his troopanywhere,--the major desires to see him." Raney was gone full tenminutes, and when he returned it was to say that Devers's first sergeantsaid the captain had given orders that all talk must stop so that theworn-out men could rest, and the captain himself, rolled in his blanket,was already sound asleep.

  "Well, I swear!" exclaimed the major. "Didn't you understand me to say Iwanted to hear all about his march as soon as he finished supper?"

  "I certainly did," replied Captain Truman, with an accent on the I thatmeant volumes.

  "So did I," growled Hastings; but he never could bear Devers, who waspersistently distorting or misunderstanding the orders the adjutant wascompelled to convey to him.

  "Well, let him sleep," said Warren, finally. "I suppose he's tired out,and very probably Davies will speedily come in."

  But midnight came and no Davies. Out on the prairie--now dimly lightedby the rays of the waning moon--the pickets at the east had descried nomoving objects. Every now and then the yelp of a coyote on one side ofcamp would be echoed far over at the other. These, with an occasionalpaw or snort from the side-lined herd, and the murmuring rush of theriver over its gravelly bed, were the only sounds that drifted to thenight-watchers from the sleeping bivouac. Towards one o'clock thesergeant of the guard came out to take a peep. Later, about two,Lieutenant Sanders, officer of the guard, a plucky little chap of whomthe men were especially fond, made his way around the chain of posts andstayed some time peering with his glass over the dim vista of prairie tothe eastward.

  "I declare I thought I saw something moving out there," he muttered,after long study. "Are you sure you've seen or heard nothing?" heinquired of the silent sentry.

  "Not a thing, lieutenant, beyond coyotes or Indian signals, I can't tellwhich. They keep at respectful distance, whatever they are."

  "Well, even if Mr. Davies's horses were too used up to come, thecouriers ought to have got back long ago. Tell them to find me as soonas they come in," said he, and went back to his saddle pillow in theheart of the grove. At its edge a solitary figure was standing gazingout into the night.

  "That you, Sanders?" hailed a voice in low tone.

  "Yes," answered the lieutenant, shortly, for he recognized Devers and hedidn't like him.

  "Isn't Davies in yet?"

  "No, and it's two o'clock."

  "Oh, he'll turn up all right," said the captain, in airy confidence. "Itwas all absurd sending him out to scout a smoke,--as if we hadn't seenand smelled smoke enough this summer to last a lifetime. He's probablycamped down the valley somewhere, and they're all waiting for morning.I'm not worrying about him."

  "No, I judge not," muttered Sanders to himself, as he trudged on in thedark. "You're simply keeping awake for the fun of the thing." But evenDevers got to sleep at last, and when he woke it was with a suddenstart, with broad daylight streaming in his eyes, and stir and bustleand low-toned orders and rapid movement among the men, and Hastings wasstirring him up with insubordinate boot and speaking in tones suggestiveof neither respect nor esteem.

  "Come, tumble up, captain; we're all wanted; Davies has been cut off andmassacred."

  Already his orderly had led up the captain's horse, pricking his earsand sniffing excitedly around him, and with trembling hands the youngGerman was dragging out from among the blankets the captain's saddle,the hot tears falling as he stooped. His own brother was of Davies'sparty. Devers was on his feet in an instant, dismayed, and, buckling onhis revolver, he went striding through the trees to where Warren stood,pale and distressed, questioning a haggard trooper,--one of thecouriers sent on for Davies the previous evening. Devers burst in withinterrupting words, and was instantly coolly checked.

  "Never mind now, captain. Mount at once and get your men in saddle." Norwould Warren see or speak with him, as with a hundred troopers at hisheels--all whose horses were even moderately fit for a ten-miletrot--the major led the way down the valley, a few eager scoutscantering on before. All Devers could learn as they jogged along wasthat Tate, one of the couriers, had ridden in at seven on an exhaustedmule to say that not until after dawn had they found Davies'sparty,--seven of them,--stone dead, stripped, scalped, gashed, mutilatedalmost beyond recognition, far out on the slopes east of that fatal spurover which the September sun had risen before he came, leaving hisstunned comrade trailing hopelessly behind.