Charles King

“ The sun is sinking behind the bluffs, and its last rays fall on a bullet-riddled ambulance; on the stiffening bodies of a half dozen slaughtered animals—a horse and some mules; on a grim, determined little band of soldiers—two of them sorely wounded. The red shafts gleam on a litter of empty cartridge-shells and tinge the canvas top of the overturned wagon. Out on the rolling prairie several hundred yards away, the turf is dotted here and there by Indian ponies, the innocent victims of this savage warfare. ”

“ THE provost sergeant at Fort Robinson is a man who has seen and heard a great deal in the course of his army life, and who has the enviable faculty of knowing everything that is going on around him, without appearing to know anything at all. It had been his duty, a day or two previous, to expel from the limits of the reservation a rascally pack of gamblers—a species of two-legged prairie wolf [165] that in the rough old days on the frontier followed every movement of the Army paymasters, and lured and trapped the soldiers until every cent of their money was gone. ”

“ Nelson touched his cap, leaped lightly across the acequia, and his powerful young voice was heard thundering, "Sergeant Waller!" in peremptory tones across the parade. "Sergeant Waller!" echoed a half dozen voices as the loungers on barrack porches took up the cry, "Lieutenant Nelson wants you!" and the soldier instinct prevailed, the old man turned and hastened toward the officers' quarters.
"What is it, Mrs. Charlton," asked Nelson. "Has there been another fight? Is Fred killed? It will break the old man's heart." ”

“ The warriors go speeding away eastward toward the Platte. Far out over the prairie, to the northeast, a troop of blue horsemen are driving in pursuit, and, over the neighboring crest, come a half dozen friendly forms and faces, spurring their foam-flecked horses in the race.
"Look up, sergeant! Look up, old man! Here's Fred himself. Didn't I tell you he was no deserter?" It was Cross' voice, and it is Cross' strong arm that lifts the wondering, trembling veteran to his feet. The young fellow has leaped from his horse and is springing toward them. ”

“ For ten minutes he went at a quiet walk and with downward-searching eyes as he reached the road, striving to decide which hoof-prints were made by Waller's horse.
Suddenly, back at camp he heard the ringing report of a cavalry carbine borne on the rising breeze, and, whirling about, saw that they were signaling to him. Putting spurs to his steed he galloped full tilt for the ford, and then for the first time saw the cause of the excitement. Far up on the opposite slope, and jogging [72] easily down toward the troop, came an Indian pony and an Indian rider, but not in war-paint and feathers. ”

“ Captain Charlton bent down from his saddle to grasp the colonel's extended hand and whisper a few words in his ear. The colonel nodded appreciatively. "They can't escape," he answered low, [171] and then, watched by friendly eyes in that little group until out of sight, and by fierce and lurking spies until darkness shrouded them from view, the troop rode jauntily on its mission; Charlton and Blunt in murmured consultation in the lead, and forty-eight stalwart troopers confidently and unquestioningly following in their tracks. ”

“ Yet hours afterward, far to the west, miles away at the Laramie crossing, there were twinkling, dancing, "firefly" gleams—like will-o'-the-wisps—through the chinks and loop-holes of that old log hut, and when morning came the ground was stamped with a fresh impress of half a dozen set of hoof tracks—shod horses, not Indian ponies this time.
It must have meant "bad medicine" for the Sioux, for when morning came all the bands that had been so confidently raiding the trails through the settlements found themselves compelled to [173] seek the shelter of their reservations. ”

“ BAD news travels fast. Captain Charlton at Fort Laramie was stunned by the tidings flashed to him by telegraph from Red Cloud. Despite the array of damaging evidence, he could not bring himself to believe that Fred Waller was a thief: but he was sore at heart when he thought of the misery and sorrow the news must bring to the dear ones at his army home—above all to the proud old sergeant, whose life seemed almost [76] bound up in the boy. ”

“ Equally unwise would it be to send a small squad. Waller had taken his life in his hands when he rode away through the night, but he could cross the Rawhide and be in comparative safety, so far as the Indian attack was concerned, by sunrise of this day. Now that daylight had come, Blunt well knew that every stretch of prairie from the Platte to the White River would be thoroughly searched by keen and eager eyes, and death would be the very least that any small party of whites could expect. ”

“ Off to their right front, several miles away, lie the low, broad bottom lands of the Platte. Across the Pumpkinseed, a mile distant, another ridge, like the one on which they halted, only not so high; to the westward a tumbling sea of prairie upland—all buttes, ridges, ravines, coulées—but not a living soul is anywhere in sight. Far as his practiced eye can sweep the horizon and the broad lowlands of the Platte not a sign of living, moving object can Colonel [130] Gaines detect. ”

“ Every Indian has vanished from his view and whirled into sight of the victims on the crest beyond.
In an instant, too, Fred Waller is in saddle, and spurring on to the ridge which they have just [155] left, and then once more he reins in where he can just peer over the crest. He notes with a cheer of joy that the charge is checked—that the Indians have veered off and are now dashing in a great circle around the central point on the height beyond. He sees the wild stampede and tangle of the mules, the overthrow of the ambulance ”

“ Here along the ridge north of the little "Branch" of the Platte, half a [128] hundred young warriors crouch and wait. Farther back, equally vigilant, other bands are hiding among the breaks and ravines near the river, while their scouts keep vigilant watch for the coming of cavalry. Forrest's Grays and Wallace's Sorrels cannot be more than a day's ride away, and will be hurrying for the road the moment they know that the Indians have slipped around them. Wallace, up the Platte, has already heard. ”

“ Troop ordered to bivouac at the Niobrara crossing, and despite the fact that all the country was alive with war parties of the Sioux, to wait there for further orders.
"Only twenty-nine men all told and a small boy," said Sergeant Dawson, who was forever trying to plague that little trumpeter. It was by no means fair to Fred Waller, either, for while he was somewhat undersized for his fifteen years, his carbine and his Colt's revolver were just as big [20] and just as effective as those of any man in the troop, and he knew how to use them, no matter how hard the "Springfield" kicked. ”

“ Finding young Fred so great a favorite [48] among the officers and men, Mr. Blunt was quite ready to accept the general verdict, although his first impression of the youngster was that he was a trifle spoiled. On the other hand no other man in the troop had so favorably impressed the new officer as the "left principal guide," Sergeant Dawson, whose dashing horsemanship, fine figure and carriage, and sharp, soldierly ways had attracted his attention at the first outset. ”

“ North, east, and west, all was Indian land, and no lone white man could live there. Of course he was making for the cattle ranges and settlements in [55] Nebraska. Such at least were the lieutenant's theories. He had spent only one year on the frontier, but had been there long enough to know that among the cowboys, ranchmen, and especially among the "riff-raff" ever hanging about the small towns and settlements, a deserter from the army was apt to be welcomed and protected, if he had money, arms, or a good horse. ”

“ Not that the men had lack of confidence in Lieutenant Blunt, but it was practically his first summer at Indian campaigning, and, however well a [18] young soldier may have studied strategy and grand tactics at West Point, it is something very different that is needed in fighting these wild warriors of our prairies and mountains. Blunt was brave and spirited, they all knew that; but in point of experience even Trumpeter Fred was his superior. All along the dusty trail, for an hour before they reached the ford, the tracks of the Indian ponies had been thickly scattered. ”

“ It is time we got back to him. Only one man or boy, known to us at least, could have come that way. It was Trumpeter Fred.
Daybreak Friday had found him a few miles south of the Niobrara, and close to the Laramie road. At noon Friday he had halted at the Rawhide to rest his horse and take a bite of luncheon, but all his young soul was athrill with eagerness; every faculty was alert. Warned of the recent presence of Indians on every side, he was yet [141] seeking to gain the Platte before nightfall; cross to the south bank, where there was comparative safety ”

“ Could it have been a deserter?"
"No man in his senses would have dared such a thing," is the impatient answer. "It may be some other infernal trick to get us away from our legitimate business. What we've got to do is reach that Sidney road by sunset. By Jove! if I'm court-martialed for this business, it won't surprise me." And the captain's horse evidently felt the sudden grip of the knees, for [140] he took a sudden spurt and set most of the troop at the nerve-wearing jog-trot. ”

“ Rayburn had been wounded and was in the hospital at Fort Robinson. Twenty of the men were away on escort duty, and so it happened that only young Lieutenant Blunt and about thirty troopers were left at the camp just west of the Agency. Fearful that the money, "burning" as it always does in the soldiers' pockets, would tempt his men to gamble or drink and get into mischief around the crowded post, Charlton had ordered that the troop should [45] march at once to the Niobrara and wait there for his return. ”

“ The operators at the military stations were all enlisted men, who were not bound by the regulations of the [78] Western Union, and who could not keep to themselves every item of personal interest. The Sidney office wired mysterious inquiries to Sanders; Sanders insisted on knowing what it meant, and presently Laramie, Sanders, Sidney, Russell, Red Cloud, and even Chug Water were clicking away in confidential discussion over the extraordinary theft and flight. And Mrs. Charlton's letter came none too early to save old Waller from despair. ”

“ Last night he slept, or rather made down his blanket and drove his picket-pin at the lower edge of the bivouac, sir, down there by that point; and Private Donovan tells me he moved still further down after dark. We could hear his horse whinnying a while—he didn't like being so far from the others. It's my belief, sir, he waited until all was quiet, and took some time when I was out on the prairie visiting the sentries to slip up the bank to where Sergeant Graham was sleeping, make his haul of the money, and then ride for all that he was worth as soon as he had got beyond ear-shot. ”

“ The bullets clip the turf and scatter the dust all over the ridge. There is practically no shelter, for the ground is too hard to dig. Old Sergeant Waller is prostrate with a bullet [160] through the thigh. Colonel Gaines has bound his handkerchief tightly around his arm. The driver lies flat on his face—dead. Every now and then the others turn longing eyes southward, hoping for some sign of infantry coming from the post, so many a mile away. They know well that Edwards will have levied on every wagon in Sidney to bring them ”

“ And when Graham reported them absent to Captain Charlton, as the latter in his familiar scouting costume rode out to take command, the whole troop was amazed that their leader seemed to treat it as a matter of no consequence whatever. He returned the sergeant's salute and inquired:
"Every horse fed and watered?"
"Yes, sir."
"Every man got two days' hard bread and bacon?" ”

“ Charlton." He waves his hat with exultation as he sees a pony stumbling in death upon the prairie, and his rider [156] limping painfully away; he knows now that they are soldiers, holding their own for at least a time, and that all depends on getting aid for them before nightfall. Far up the valley on the other side he had marked at noon a dust-cloud sailing slowly toward him. It must be the Sorrels or the Grays, hastening back to clear the Sidney road. Here is the thing to do: gallop back, recross the river, meet and guide them to the rescue. ”

“ But Captain Cross was a cavalryman himself, and had known old Waller [92] for years. He dropped his rifle, came straight forward, and took him by the hand.
"Sergeant, I don't believe it of your boy; I've known his father too long," was all he said, as he pressed the veteran's hand. Poor old Waller, worn with anguish, long vigil, and utter lack of food of any kind, was now so weak that he could only, with the utmost difficulty, choke back the sobs that shook his frame. Speak he dare not ”

“ An Indian hates a house on general principles, and enters one only when he expects to make something by it. Those recent boot-prints, nearly effaced by the moccasins, were doubtless those of some of Blunt's party. ”

“ The lieutenant's just got a courier from Robinson, and he and Sergeant Graham have to write dispatches to go right to the captain at Laramie. You know the whole Platte valley, and how to get across and reach the Sidney road below?" Of course he did. "Then the lieutenant says, for God's sake lose not a minute; go for all you're worth; keep well to the west until you cross the Platte, and then make for the southeast, and warn back everybody who is coming north. He says Mrs. Charlton and the children were to come that way, [198] Saturday or Sunday, to join the captain at Red Cloud. ”