Under Fire

by Charles King

  CHAPTER VI.

  The battalion had halted at the foot of the slope, each troop closing upon its predecessor and huddling in shivering silence. No trumpetsounded; no word of command was heard. Every troop leader threw up hishand when he thought he had gone far enough and rolled stiffly out ofsaddle, his horse only too willingly standing stock-still the instant hefound himself no longer urged. "Dismount" either by signal or commandwould have been an affront to a cavalry force two-thirds of whose arrayseemed to be dismounted already, some towing along by taut bridle-reinthe famished relic of a once spirited charger, others comfortingthemselves with the reflection that at least they had now only their owncarcass to care for, others still wishing they had not even thatresponsibility, wondering how much longer their aggrieved stomachs mighthave to struggle with the only pabulum upon which they had been allowedto expend their gastric juices for over forty-eight hours, and sufferingthe pangs of remorse, both physical and mental, in the poignantconsciousness that the cause of this distress was the undigestedportion of some late faithful four-footed friend and companion, for thecommand for rations had been reduced to horse meat on the hoof. Threehundred miles from the nearest post when their supplies gave out, in theheart of the Bad Lands and the height of the worst season of the year,except midwinter, it had turned its back to the forts and its face tothe foe, true to its orders, still following the trail of the hostiletribe,--the only hot thing it had struck for a week. "Live on thecountry, there isn't anything else," were their orders, as they cutloose from the main command, and their major--a reserved andconservative fellow at other times--came away from the grim presence ofhis commander with blasphemy on his bearded lips. The only humanhabitation within scores of miles of his line of march were Indianlodges, and both grass for the horses and game for the men had beenfired off the face of the earth by those active foemen before thedrenching wintry rain set in and chilled to the marrow the shelterlessforms of starving trooper and staggering steed.

  "Live on the country, indeed! Two antelope and ten prairie dogs was thesum total of the game secured by the hunters in three days' pursuit. Andwhat are they," said Captain Truman, "among so many? Barley loaves andGalilee perch might be made to go round in a bigger crowd in the days ofmiracles, but this isn't Jordan's strand," he added, as he glancedaround at the dripping, desolate slopes, and then, fortified in hisopinion by the gloomy survey, concluded, with cavalry elegance, "not bya damn sight."

  "What's the matter ahead, anyhow?" hailed a brother captain, up to hisshins in sticky mud, who had been making mental calculation as to howmany more hours of such wearing work and wretched weather it would taketo unhorse his entire company.

  "Don't know," was the short answer. Men fight, but they seldom talk onempty stomachs.

  "Why, I thought I saw you talking with Hastings when he rode back."Hastings being the battalion adjutant. "Didn't he say what they werepow-wowing about?"

  "No, and I didn't ask. There was nothing to eat in sight, and that's theonly matter that interests my people just now. Just look at those poorbrutes!" And Truman heaved a sigh as he gazed about among his gaunt,dejected horses, many of them so weak as barely to be able to stand.

  "My men are as bad off as the horses, pretty near," said Captain Devers,the other. "There isn't one of them that hasn't turned his saddle-bagsinside out to-day for the last crumb of hard-tack. They're worn to skinand bone. Three of them broke down entirely back there at the creekcrossing, and if there weren't Indians all round us, nothing would havefetched them along. There goes Davies, coddling 'em again, damn it! Thatman would spoil any troop----Mr. _Davies!_" he called, and a gaunt, wiryfellow, with a stiff beard sprouting on his thin, haggard face, turnedaway from a bedraggled trooper who had thrown himself in utterabandonment among the dripping sage brush at the side of the trail, andcame to his troop commander.

  "I wish you wouldn't make such a fuss over those men," said Devers,petulantly. "Just leave 'em alone. They'll come out all right. Thiscoddling and petting isn't going to do any good. Soldiers are not likesick children."

  "A good many of ours seem to feel that way just now, sir," said theyoung officer. "I only thought to cheer him up a bit."

  "Well, when my men need nursing, Mr. Davies, I'll have you detailed inthat capacity, but be so good as to refrain from it otherwise. I don'tlike it. That's all."

  Without a word Davies turned on his heel and went back to his horse.Truman, looking after him with a not unkindly interest in his tiredeyes, saw that he swayed a little as he ploughed his way through thethick and sticky mud. "That boy's as weak as a sick child himself,Devers," said he. "You'll have to have a nurse for him before we getin."

  "Well, it's his own fault, then. He had just as much in his haversack asI had when we cut loose from the main column. I 'spose he's given itaway."

  "I know he has," was the curt rejoinder. "Neither of those two men couldstomach tough mule meat. I suppose that was the only way to get 'emalong."

  Devers turned gloomily about. Down in the bottom of his heart he feltthat in his annoyance at what he considered disregard of hisinstructions he had spoken harshly and unjustly to a young officer ofwhom he had heard many a word of praise during the hard and tryingcampaign now drawing to a close. True, the words had fallen mainly fromthe lips of those of the rank and file or from seniors whom he didn'tlike. In some, cases, especially among the enlisted men, they wouldappear to have been spoken for the captain's especial benefit. Devers,while a painstaking officer and not unmindful of the care of his men,was one who "lacked magnetism," to say the least, and never won fromthem the enthusiastic homage they often lavished on others among theirsuperiors. The fact that Lieutenant Davies, finding Moore and Ruppactually so weak from lack of food that they could hardly drag one legafter another, had been sharing with them his own slender store ofprovision was not the first thing the men had noted in his favor, butthat was no reason, thought Devers, why they should raise their voicesand glance covertly in his direction when referring to it. Devers wasone of the kind sometimes called unsympathetic, that is, he seemed so,but it was more in manner than in fact, for few troop commanders in hisregiment were really more careful in providing for their men than he.But these were days that tried men's tempers as well as their souls, andthe officer who could look back on that long campaign against the Siouxwithout regretting some speech wrung from him by the exasperationproduced by incessant exposure, hardship, and finally by starvation,were few indeed. Devers was honest enough to admit to himself at themoment that he wished he hadn't said what he did say to Davies, but notso honest as to confess it to any one else. Yet stealing a glance at theyoung fellow whom he had humiliated, now wearily leaning against hissaddle, Devers would have been glad to find some way of making amends,but, stealing another glance around another way after Truman, of whom hewas both jealous and afraid, he hardened his heart. It is one thing tosay "I was in the wrong" to the victim, and quite another to admit it toone's fellows. It is fear of what the world will say that keeps many aman from righting many a wrong, and men, too, who wouldn't flinch infront of a mile of batteries.

  Standing listlessly by their horses, the men of Devers's troop had, someof them at least, been silent witnesses of the scene. One or twoofficers also had marked and conjectured, though they had not heard,what had taken place. Truman alone was cognizant of all, and, whatevermay have been his views, this was neither the time nor place to expressthem. But he took occasion to stop as he was returning to the head ofhis own troop and speak to the young officer in the case.

  "Davies," said he, kindly, "come over with me a moment. I've got alittle chunk of antelope in my saddle-bags, and you need it, man. We'llall have something to eat to-night--_sure_. We'll make the Belle Fourcheby nine."

  Davies looked up gratefully. "I'm ever so much obliged, captain," hebegan, "but I can't eat with all those poor fellows looking at me.They're about done up."

  "Oh, it's rough, I know, but all they've got to do is tag along with thecolumn till night and then eat their
fill. You haven't had enough tolive on, and may have work ahead. Here comes Hastings now."

  And as he spoke the battalion adjutant came spurring down from a lowridge at the front fast as a miserably jaded horse could bear him.Earlier in the campaign every man would have felt the thrill of comingexcitement,--a chase, a brush of some kind, perhaps,--but now all wereweak and weary. Even the Patlanders in Truman's troop, men of whom ithad often been said that they'd rather fight than eat, were no more fullof fight to-day than they were of food.

  "What's he want?" growled Devers, sauntering over to where the officerstood. "We've left the Indians miles behind. Surely there can't be anybetween us and the river."

  Many eyes were fixed on the coming horseman or on the little group ofscouts and soldiers surrounding the major, who, kneeling, was levellinghis field-glasses over the ridge at some objects far away, apparentlytowards the southeast.

  "They're everywhere,--damn them!" was the curt answer, "except where wewant them. But he's looking off square to the left, not ahead."

  This was true. Whatever it might have been far to the front of the wearycolumn that caused the little squad of scouts to signal halt after theirfirst cautious peep over that ridge, the object at which so many werenow excitedly peering and pointing was at right angles to the directionof the march. Yet did the advance keep well concealed against observanteyes ahead, though why they should do so when every Indian in Dakota bythis time knew all about them, their movements, and those of the maincolumn farther over towards the Little Missouri, Truman couldn'tunderstand.

  "Have you ten horses that can stand a side scout?" asked the adjutant,urging his mud-spattered mount to the head of Devers's troop. He spokeabruptly, and without salute, to his superior officer,--his own captainat that.

  "What are we on but a side scout now?" demanded that officer, in thesurly tone the best of men may fall into under such circumstances.

  "That isn't the question," replied Mr. Hastings, "and we've no time forpoints. Davies, it's your detail. There's something--we can't make outwhat--over towards the river. Report to the major and I'll find yourparty."

  "I doubt if my horse can stand any side scout," said Davies, slowly,"but I am ready."

  "Oh, your horse's as good as any in the outfit," interposed theadjutant, impatiently. "The major wants ten men from your troop at once,captain,--the ten who have the strongest horses. It won't take 'em morethan a dozen miles out of the way, I reckon. The whole crowd would go,only men and horses can barely make the day's march as it is."

  "See any Indians?" asked Truman, lounging up.

  "I haven't. Crounse and the scouts say they have, and it's likelyenough. Of course you've seen the pony tracks, and what's queer is thatmany of them head over towards the very point where this smoke isdrifting from. Looks as if they'd jumped some wagons and burned them."

  Meantime, Mr. Davies had slowly mounted and was urging his reluctanthorse into some semblance of a canter. As the slope in front of himsteepened, however, both horse and rider abandoned the effort, and,full fifty yards below the point where the battalion commander and hisscouts were in consultation, the lieutenant dismounted, and leaving hissteed unguarded to nibble at a patch of scant and sodden herbage thathad survived the Indian fires, he slowly climbed the ascent. "I amordered to report to you, sir," was all he had to say.

  The major lowered his field-glass and looked back over a broad, burlyshoulder garbed in canvas shooting-jacket. Not a stitch of uniformgraced his massive person from head to heel, yet soldier was manifest inevery gesture or attitude. A keen observer might have said that a shadeof disappointment crossed his fine, full-bearded face as he heard thesubaltern's voice, but no sign of it appeared in his tone when he spoke.

  "Mr. Davies, just take this glass and see what you make of that smokeoff yonder. The sun is getting low and it baffles me somewhat." Silentlythe lieutenant obeyed, and creeping up towards the crest he knelt andtook a preliminary peep.

  Issuing from the Bad Lands the jaded column had been plodding all daylong, though with frequent enforced rests, through a rolling sea ofbarren, turfless earth. What grass had carpeted its surface in thespring had been burned off by sagacious Indians, bent on impeding byevery known device the march of troops through their lands,--and whatdevice the Indian does not know is little worth knowing. Under adripping leaden sky the earth lay desolate and repulsive. Miles away tothe north the dim, castellated buttes and pinnacles of the range werestill faintly visible, and the tortuous trail of the column of twoswinding its way over wave after wave of barren prairie like the wake ofsome terrestrial bark in a sea of mud. Far to the westward a jagged lineof hills, sharply defined, seemed to rear their crests from the generallevel of the land, and somewhere along the eastern slope of that ridge,and not far from where two twin-pointed buttes seemed peeping over atthese uncouth invaders, the main command of the expedition should havepassed earlier in the day, making for the crossing of the swift-runningstream that circled the northern border of some black, forbiddingheights lying like a dark patch upon the landscape at its southwesternedge. Black as it looked, that was their one refuge. There alone darethey hope to find food. Thither had been sent an advanced detail withorders to buy at owners' prices flour, bacon, bread, coffee, anythingthe outlying settlements might have for sale that would sustain life.Men who had been living on horse or prairie-dog would not be fastidious.Here, too, the major had hoped by night to bivouac his weary men, but itseemed desperately far away. The march had been much impeded, and now,far out on his left flank was something that could not be passeduninvestigated. He, with his worn battalion of four troops, had beendetached from the main column three days previous with orders to followthe trail of a war-party of Sioux, and smite them hip and thigh if hecould catch them in forty-eight hours; if not, to veer around for thevalley and rejoin the column at its bivouac among the foot-hills. Therethey should rest and recuperate. The pursued Indians, fortunately, hadturned southward and gone jogging leisurely away towards theirreservations, until warned of the pursuit by ambitious young bravesstill hovering about the troops in hope of slicing off the scalp of somestraggler. Then, every man for himself, they had apparently scatteredover the face of the country, laughing gleefully to think what fun thewhite chief would have in deciding which trail to follow. The situationon the third day out had been summarized by Crounse, the guide, about asfollows: "So long as this outfit pulls together it won't catch anIndian; so soon as it doesn't pull together it'll catch hell," whichbeing interpreted meant that the four companies united were too strongfor the number of Indians within striking distance, or say three days'march, but that if it were divided into little detachments, and senthither and yon in pursuit of such small parties as would then allowthemselves to be seen, the chances were that those pursuing squads wouldone by one be lured beyond support, surrounded, cut off, and thenmassacred to a man. The major and his officers, most of them, knew thisas well as Crounse. They knew, moreover, that even so large a command astheirs had been cut off, surrounded, and massacred more than once in thehistory of Sioux warfare, but then the Indians were massed, notscattered helter-skelter all over the continent as was the case the endof this eventful summer. Well did Major Warren understand that with suchbroken-down horses and weakened men he could now effect little ornothing against the Indians after whom he had been sent, even could heovertake them, and his instructions were literally obeyed. It was hightime for him to restore his men to their comrades. He was making thebest of his way to the rendezvous, hoping almost against hope to reachthe welcome of the bivouac fires, and hot tins of coffee and toothsomemorsels of hard-tack and bacon, things they had not had a scrap of forthree days, and only occasional reminders of for the previous ten, whenlo! off to their flank, far to the southeast there appeared thisunwelcome yet importunate sign. Was it appeal for help or lure toambush? Who could say? Only one thing was certain,--a thick smokedrifting westward from the clump of wallows and timber surrounding whatCrounse said was a spring could not be passed unheeded.
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br />   "If we march the whole command over there, it will be anothertwenty-four hours before we can reach the regiment. I don't think manyof the men, or horses either, can go that much longer without a bite,"said Mr. Hastings, the battalion adjutant, seeing in his senior's eye apermission to speak.

  "Well, there are no settlements there and never have been," saidCrounse, "so it can't be cabins or shacks. Wagons it may be, but who'dbe damn fool enough to start a wagon-train up the valley this year ofall others, when every Indian at the reservation except old Spot is inleague with the hostiles? I can't believe it's wagons, yet it's on theroad full a mile this side of the river itself. What I'm afraid of isthat it's a plant. They want to coax us over there and cut us off, asthey did Custer." The major was silent and thoughtful. Davies, stillstudying the distant objects, said not a word. Leading their horses,eight troopers following a sergeant, all wet, weary, and heaven onlyknows how hungry, came slowly forward up the slope until they reachedthe spot where Davies's horse was nibbling. Here the foremost haltedwithout a word, and the others grouped about him or, stopping short whentheir leader did so, threw themselves on the wet ground reckless of coldor rheumatism, as spiritless a squad as frontier warfare could welldevelop. Valley Forge knew nothing like it. The retreat from Moscowmight have furnished a parallel.

  Leaving his horse to do as his jaded fancy might suggest, the battalionadjutant, returning from his quest, came slowly to the major's side."I've picked out nine, sir. It was simply impossible to find another inthe whole two hundred. Some of these look barely able to stagger as itis."

  "And it's Davies's detail?" asked the major, in low tone.

  "Yes, sir. He's the only sub in the battalion who hasn't been ondetachment duty since we left the Yellowstone, and his horse is able togo. Look at him, actually kicking!"

  This was true. The sergeant's starving charger, showing a disposition topoach on the little preserve that Davies's steed had pre-empted, wasrewarded by a sudden whirl about and flourish of two shod hoofs.

  "Davies," said the major, kindly, yet with quick decision, "I hate toimpose additional work on worn-out men, but we can't leave that matteruninvestigated. I want you to ride over there and see what that smokemeans. I don't think Indians in any force are near, and ten men ought tobe enough to stand 'em off. If it's nothing of consequence you canfollow on up-stream or camp as you please. If it's a wagon outfitattacked, and there's anything left to help, do your best. We'll keep atroop in supporting distance, and instead of marching straight for thehills, I'll edge off here towards the river, sending Devers well outtowards you. We've got nearly three hours of daylight yet. Think youunderstand?"

  "I think so, sir," said Davies, slowly replacing his glass, then lookinghesitatingly around.

  "Anything you want?" asked Warren.

  "Well, I should like to see Captain Truman just a minute, sir."

  "He's three hundred yards back there now, and time's precious. Can't Ido?" asked the major, not unkindly. "Want to leave anything?"

  "No, sir. It's of no consequence." And turning abruptly, Davies wenthalf sliding, half shuffling down the slippery slope, kicked the mud offhis boots, and briefly nodding to the sergeant, said "Mount," hoistedhimself into saddle, and led his little party silently away. One of themen looked appealingly back towards Crounse.

  "Got any baccy, Jim?"

  "Not a pinch. I'd give my boots for a chew."

  Davies heard the appeal and turned to his sergeant. "Tell Dunn to comeup here alongside," said he, reaching down into his saddle-pocket; "I'vehalf a plug left, sergeant, and we'll divide."

  "It'll help the men as much as a square meal, sir," said the trooper,gratefully; "but I never saw the lieutenant chew."

  "I don't, but it's some I fetched along for just such an emergency."

  Meantime the major and his party stood gazing silently after them. Theysaw them winding away down the southward face of the long ridge andcrossing the shallow ravine at its foot. Beyond lay another long, lowspur of treeless prairie.

  "The Parson didn't seem over-anxious to go," muttered Mr. Hastings, asthough to himself.

  "Small blame to him!" promptly answered the major. "I don't blame anyman in this command for declining any invitation, except to dinner.Hallo! What's that?"

  In Davies's little party the men had been seen passing some object fromone to the other. One or two who had ridden up alongside the youngofficer touched their hats and fell back to their place. Suddenly two ofthem left the squad and, urging their horses to such speed as they werecapable of, went at heavy plunging lope over the southern end of theopposite ridge and disappeared from view.

  "Antelope, by jimminy! I thought I saw a buck's horns over that crestyonder a minute ago," said an orderly.

  "Antelope be damned!" said Crounse, gritting his teeth. "If those menknew this country as I do they'd think twice before they rode a hundredyards away from the column. I wouldn't undertake to ride from here tothat butte yonder,--not for a beefsteak, I wouldn't,--God knows whatelse I wouldn't do for that!"

  "Why, you can see the whole valley, and there ain't an Indian insight," said the orderly trumpeter, disdainfully.

  "Yes, and it's just when you can't see one that a valley's most apt tobe full of 'em, kid," began the frontiersman, but the major cut him off.

  "Ride after Mr. Davies with my compliments, trumpeter, and tell him torecall those men, and not to let them straggle, even after game."

  The trumpeter touched his ragged hat-brim and turned away to get hishorse, which he presently spurred to a sputtering lope, and wentclattering away on the trail.

  "We may as well mount now and push ahead," said the major, after amoment's reflection. "Keep Davies in sight as much as possible,Crounse." And so saying he went on and climbed stiffly into saddle, forhe, too, was wet and chilled and sore-spirited; but it was his businessto put the best face on matters in general, and the troopers, seeing themajor mount, got themselves to their horses without further order. Noneof the horses, poor brutes, required holding, but stood there withdejected crest, pasterns deep in the mud, too weak to wander even insearch of grass. Warren came riding slowly towards his men.

  "Captain Devers," said he, "I have sent Mr. Davies off to the left toscout towards the valley. I wish you to follow his trail a mile, andthen to march due south by compass, keeping about midway between him andus. Hold him in sight, if possible, and be ready to support him if heshould be attacked. We will back you. If all is quiet by the time youstrike the old road in the valley, turn west and follow on to camp."

  But Captain Devers was one of those officers who seemed never to graspan order at first hand. Even when it came in writing, clear, brief, andexplicit, he often required explanations. "I don't think I understand,sir," he began, but Warren cut him short.

  "I should have been prepared for that," he exclaimed, giving way for thefirst time to the generally peppery and irascible spirit of semi-starvedmen. "Mount!" he ordered. "Captain Truman, lead the column,--Crounsewill show you the line. I will ride here awhile with Devers and show himwhat's wanted."

  Now, it is one of the peculiarities of prairie landscape that wherewhole counties may appear to be one general level or open slopes whenviewed from the distance, the face of the country is really cut up incountless directions by ravines, watercourses and _coulees_, so that,except in the level bottom-lands along a river-bed, it is next toimpossible to keep moving objects continually in view. Davies and hislittle party were out of sight when the major reappeared on the ridgewith Devers's ragged troop at his heels. So, too, were the would-behunters. "Kid" Murray, the trumpeter, alone remained in view, and he hadjust reached the crest of a parallel ridge somewhat lower and about aquarter of a mile to the left.

  Then those at the head of column saw a strange thing. The youngtrumpeter, instead of pushing forward on the trail, had suddenly reinedin. Bending forward in his saddle, he was gazing eagerly in thedirection taken by the antelope-stalkers; then, suddenly again, whirledabout and began frantically signalling
to the column. They saw himquickly swing his battered trumpet from behind his back and raise it tohis lips, sounding some call. Floating across the wind, over the bleakand barren prairie, came almost together the muffled sound of tworifle-shots, then the stirring trumpet signal,--_gallop_.

  "Away with you, Devers!" ordered the major. "Head Truman this way, Mr.Hastings. Tell him to come on." And forty horsemen went laboring downthe gentle slope, lugging their rusty brown carbines, one by one, fromthe mud-covered sockets.