by Charles King
CHAPTER VII.
WAR RUMORS.
The announcement that Captain Truscott had gone to Washington wasreceived at the officers' mess with no little excitement. Questioned asto the meaning of it, the commandant of cadets unreservedly replied thatTruscott would not risk failure, but, with the full permission of thesuperintendent, had gone to see the Secretary of War and get immediateorders to join his regiment. The --th was to take the field at once,said the colonel, and Truscott felt that it was his duty to go. Thingslooked very much as though there would be a stubborn and protractedIndian war, and undoubtedly the captain was right in his view of thematter. In this opinion there was general acquiescence among the staffand artillery officers present,--it is always safe to adhere to generalprinciples which are not apt to be personal in their application, andthe staff and artillery rarely were called upon to take part in suchhostilities,--and Mr. Ferris being a cavalryman of spirit was quitedisposed to think it the proper thing for him, too, to ask for orders,although the possibility of his regiment's being involved was indeedremote. One or two officers, however, maintained that the principle wasbad as a precedent; that hereafter officers might feel it a reflectionupon them if they did not immediately ask to be sent to their commandson the first rumor of hostilities, no matter how important might be theduties upon which they were detached. On this view of the case verylittle was said, but one or two gentlemen whose regiments were known tobe marching on the Yellowstone country looked gratefully at theoriginator and nodded their heads appreciatively. It was mid June now,and except the fight with Crazy Horse's band on Patrick's Day and anunimportant brush with the Sioux on the head-waters of the Tongue River,nothing that could be called "hostilities" had really taken place. "TheIndians will be surrounded and will surrender without a blow," saidthose who sought for reason to evade going; but no man who knew anythingof Indian character or Indian methods believed that for an instant.Every experienced officer knew, and knew well, that a mortal strugglemust come and come soon, and come it did.
But Jack Truscott needed no such spur to urge him on the path of duty.What it cost to cut loose from all that was so beautiful to him in hishappy home no one ever knew. What it cost his brave young wife to lethim go was never told. Barely half a year had they rejoiced together intheir love-lit surroundings, the most envied couple at the Point,--andthere is vast comfort in being envied,--and Grace Truscott had never foran instant dreamed that so rude an interruption could come; but come ithad, with blinding, sudden force, that for a time stunned and wellnighcrushed her. Jack had lifted her in his strong arms and almost carriedher to their room the night when he _had_ to tell her of hisdetermination, but, once satisfied that his duty was plain, she rallied,like the soldier's daughter she was, and spoke no word of repining. Shelooked up in his eyes and bade him go. True, she cherished faint hopethat in Washington there would be attempt to dissuade him, for she hadgood reason to know that in the days whereof we write there wereofficials of the War Department who regarded Indian warfare on thefrontier as a matter quite beneath their notice,--one which might ofcourse concern the officers and men actually engaged, but that could beof small moment to the Army,--that is, the Army as known to society, asknown to the press, and, 'tis to be feared, as understood byCongress,--the Army in its exclusive and somewhat supercilious existenceat the National Capital. Colonel and Mrs. Pelham were there, and Jackwould of course see them; and was it not possible that there would beofficials of the highest authority who could convince him that hisservices were not needed at the front, but could not be dispensed withat the Point? Poor Grace! She little dreamed that for such a place asher husband held there were dozens of applicants, and that senators andrepresentatives by the score had favorites and friends whom they wereeager to urge for every Eastern detail; and then, even now she did notentirely know her Jack: so gentle, loving, caressing, as he was withher, she could hardly realize the inflexibility of his purpose. Theinterview with the Secretary of War was over in five minutes, and neverhad that functionary experienced such a surprise. He had receivedCaptain Truscott's card and directed that he be admitted, vaguelyremembering him as the tall cavalry officer whom he had seen at thePoint on the first of the month, and whom, after the manner of his kind,he had begged "to let him know if there should ever be anything he coulddo for him in Washington," and now here he was, and had a favor to ask.The Secretary sighed and looked up drearily from his papers, but roseand shook hands with the young officer who entered, and blandly askedhim to be seated. Captain Truscott, however, bowed his thanks, said thathe had just left the adjutant-general, and had his full permission topresent in person this note from the superintendent of the Academy, andhis, the captain's, request to be immediately relieved from duty at WestPoint with orders to join his regiment, then _en route_ to reinforceGeneral Crook.
The Secretary mechanically took the note between his nerveless fingers,and simply stared at his visitor. At last he broke forth,--
"By the Eternal!" (and the administration was not Jacksonian either)"Captain Truscott. This beats anything in my experience. Since I've beenin office every man who has called upon me has wanted orders for himselfor somebody else to come East. Do you mean you want to go West andrejoin your regiment to do more of this Indian fighting?"
"Certainly, Mr. Secretary," was Truscott's half-amused reply.
"It shall be as you wish, of course," said the cabinet officer; "butI've no words to say how I appreciate it. You seem to be of a differentkind of timber from those fellows who are always hanging aroundWashington,--not but what they are all very necessary, and that sort ofthing," put in the Secretary, diplomatically; "but we have no end of menwho want to come to Washington. You're the first man I've heard of whowanted to go. By Jove! Captain Truscott. Is there anything else youwant? Is there anything I can do that will convey to you my appreciationof your course?"
"Well, sir, I have spoken to the adjutant-general about some six men ofthe cavalry detachment at the Point who are eager to go to the frontierfor active service. If they could be transferred,--sent out withrecruits; we are short-handed in the --th, and my own troop needsnon-commissioned officers."
"Certainly it can be done. We'll see General T----about it at once."
That night Grace's last hope was broken by the telegram from Washington,which told her that Jack would be home next day and that the orders wereissued.
Mrs. Pelham had stormed, of course, that is--to her husband. She stoodin awe of Jack, and had counted on spending much of the summer at thePoint. Living as they were at a Washington hotel, expenses were veryheavy, and madame had planned to recuperate her exhausted frame andfortune in a long visit to dear Grace, who really ought to have amother's--"well, at least, if the captain is to be away so much of thetime, she will surely be lonely," madame had argued. It was really quitefortunate that he had to go to Kentucky to buy horses. In his absenceshe might recover much of the ground she felt she had lost in the lastyear. The plan was fairly developed in her strategical mind, when whoshould appear but the captain himself, and with the brief announcementthat they would start for Wyoming in a week.
Madame could not believe her senses; but either from shock or unusuallyprofound discretion, she refrained from an expression of hersentiments, and Truscott continued his calm explanation. Grace had borneup bravely at the idea of his throwing away the detail at the Point, buthad made one stipulation. She should go with him to the frontier,rebuild their nest at the new station of his troop, and be near him aswoman could be during the summer's campaign, and all ready to welcomehim home at its close. He could not say her nay. Old Pelham's eyesbrimmed with tears, but when he spoke it was only to repress theimpetuous outbreak of his wife.
"Now, Dolly, no words. Truscott's right, so is Grace. It's bound to be asharp campaign no matter what your society friends say. By gad! I'd--I'dgive _anything_ to go, but I'm too old, Jack; I'd only be in the way.You're right, my boy. You're right; you always are. Your place is withthe regiment when there's work to be done, and Grace
is a soldier'swife. She's right, too. Her place is near him."
In vain Mrs. Pelham argued that Grace could better remain East. Jackknew his wife's mind. She would be just as comfortable; she would be farhappier in the cosey quarters of the big garrison at Russell. She wouldhave Mrs. Stannard, whom they all loved, for friend and companion, andthere were a dozen pleasant acquaintances among the ladies there to bequartered. It was simply useless for madame to interpose. Everything hadbeen settled beforehand and without reference to her. The best theycould do was to accept Jack's invitation to come to the Point, be hisguests at the hotel, and see them off. He would dismantle his quartersforthwith.
And when he returned to Grace next day she was brave, smiling, reallyhappy. She gloried in the idea of going with her soldier husband back tothe dear old --th, and she had another plan,--a surprise. She and Marionhad had a long talk, and as a result Marion wanted to go too. It wasnovel. It was almost startling, yet--why not? Several young ladies werealready visiting at Hays,--two of them were going,--had gone to Russellwith relatives who were married in the --th. Miss Sanford was to havespent the summer with them at the Point. Why should she not accompanyGrace to Wyoming and see something of that odd army life of which shehad heard so much. If Captain Truscott would have her she knew no reasonto prevent. And they all knew that in the captain's enforced absence onthe campaign no one could be so great a comfort, so dear a companion toGrace, as her schoolmate Marion. There was only one question, saidTruscott, "Will Mr. Sanford consent?"
"I will write to-night," said the young lady, in reply, "and I feelconfident of his answer."
Within a week, as we know, the telegram had reached the --th announcingTruscott's move, and that very afternoon Mrs. Stannard, seated on thepiazza of her new quarters and gazing southward across the bare paradeto the dun-colored barracks on the other side and the snow-capped peaksof Colorado seemingly just beyond, was startled by a sudden sensation inthe group of officers in front of Colonel Whaling's. Another telegram.Presently her husband left the group and came quickly to her, hands inhis pockets as usual, and with his customary expression ofunastonishable _nonchalance_. Still, she saw he had disturbing news,and she rose anxiously to meet him, her sweet blue eyes clouded with thedread she strove to repress.
"What is it, Luce?" she asked.
The major unpursed his lips and abandoned the attempted whistle.
"Been a fight--way up on the Rosebud," he briefly said, as he droppedinto a chair, still maintaining his apparent indifference of manner.
"Yes; but--what was it? Who is hurt this time?"
"H----, of the Third; shot through the face; can't live, they say.Reckon that isn't the worst of it, either. Crook found the Indians fartoo many for him and he had to fall back to his camps."
"Oh, Luce! Then it will be a hard campaign. What news for the --th?"
"Nothing as yet. We march, of course, at daybreak, and I suppose therest of the regiment will be hurried up from Kansas. What must be lookedafter at once is the great mass of Indians at the Red Cloud and SpottedTail reservations on White River. They will get this news within thenext twenty-four hours, and it will so embolden them that the entiregang will probably take the war-path. There is where we will be sent, Ifancy. Orders will reach us at Laramie. They say Sheridan himself is onhis way to the reservations to look into matters. Mrs. Turner beenhere?" he suddenly asked, with a quick glance from under his shaggyeyebrows.
"Mrs. Turner? Not since morning. Why?"
"There was a sort of snarl down at the store this morning, Some mentionof it was made while we were talking there at Whaling's, and I wasanxious to get the particulars. Wilkins was saying something about Raythat worries me. Have you heard nothing?"
"Not a thing, Luce. Did you suppose Mrs. Turner was possessed of all theinformation and would come to me with it?"
The major looked uncomfortable. "She would be apt to go to somebody, andyou were the nearest. Both those youngsters, Dana and Hunter, werepresent, and they are leaky vessels, I'm told. Turner never tells heranything, but the boys do."
"What a thing to say, Luce!"
"Can't help it," growled the major, thrusting out his spurred boot-heelstowards the railing and tilting back in his chair. "You never heard, Isuppose, that between her and Mrs. Raymond and Mrs. Wilkins there was aregular intelligence bureau at Sandy two years ago. So you heard nothingabout this affair?"
"Not a word; and it occurs to me, Major Stannard, that you look vastlyas though you wish Mrs. Turner _had_ come with the details. That's justthe way with you men. You rail at our sex for gossiping, and growl whenwe can't or won't tell you anything. Luce! Luce! How consistent!" And inher enjoyment of her burly lord's discomfiture, Mrs. Stannard forgot forthe moment her many anxieties and laughed blithely.
The major had too much to worry him, however, and this was so evident tohis devoted wife that her laugh was brief,--it was never loud orstrident,--and she moved her chair nearer to his own.
"Is Mr. Ray in any trouble?" she asked, with genuine concern.
"I don't know. Of the officers present at the conversation in the storethis morning all I have since seen were infantrymen, whom I couldn'task. Wayne and Merrill heard something of it and came to me at oncebecause of their regard for Ray, but Blake has gone to town. He is theman who snubbed Crane and Wilkins. It seems Wilkins claims to have aletter from somebody--that man Gleason probably--to the effect that Rayhas been on a perpetual tear with the very man of all others I dreadedhis meeting. You remember that contractor, Rallston."
"Mr. Ray's brother-in-law?"
"Yes; worse luck! I knew the fellow by reputation before we went toArizona. He's a scoundrel, and a very polished one, too. Ray is smartenough ordinarily, but if Rallston has been trying to sell him horsesthere will be trouble sooner or later. I'm more worried about that thanover the campaign news. Sorry about H----, of course, though I'd nevermet him: They say he is a capital officer; but I can't start to-morrowand have this thing haunting me all the way up to Laramie. I'll go downto camp and hunt up Wilkins, and ask him flat-footed for his wholestory; then there will be time to write to Ray, or telegraph if needbe."
That was a dreary night at Russell. All the afternoon the telegraphinstrument at headquarters was clicking away with details of the briefand sudden fight upon the Rosebud, and the officers read in silence thedescription of the hordes upon hordes of savages that swooped down uponCrook's little column, and whirled his allied Absarakas and Shoshonesoff the wooded bluffs. "They must have been reinforced from everyreservation between the Missouri and the mountains," was the comment,for the whole country swarmed with them. Scout after scout had been sentout to strive to push through to the Yellowstone and communicate withGeneral Terry's forces, known to be concentrated at the mouth of theTongue. Some had come back, chased in to the very guard by yelling"hostiles." Several had failed to return at all, but--significantfact--none had succeeded in getting through. The last of June would soonbe at hand; the forces that were to co-operate--Crook's from the BigHorn foot-hills at the south, Terry's from the banks of the Yellowstoneat the north--had reached their appointed stations and even gone beyond,but not a vestige of communication could they establish one with theother. Crook, striving to force his way through from his corrals andcamps, had been overpowered and thrust back by the concentration uponhim of five times his weight in foes. Terry, sending his cavalryscouting up the Rosebud, found an unimpeded passage for miles and miles;and even as our friends at Russell were reading with gloomy faces thetidings from the front, a little battalion of cavalry, pushingventurously up the wild and picturesque valley, came suddenly upon asight that bade their leader pause.
Up from among the wild rose-bushes along the sparkling stream, andclimbing the great "divide" to the west, there ran a broad, new-beaten,dusty trail, pounded by the hoofs of ten thousand ponies, strewn onevery side with abandoned lodge-poles, worn-out blankets, or other_impedimenta_, malodorous, unsightly. "The Indians have crossed to theLittle Horn within the last three days,"
said the experienced scouts inthe advance. Back went the column down the valley to report the news,and three days afterwards two war-tried regiments of horse were _enroute_. From the south, heading for the Black Hills of Dakota, withorders to find the trail leading from the reservations to the Indiancountry and put a stop to the forwarding of reinforcements or supplies,rode our old Arizona acquaintances of the --th. From the north, pushingup the Rosebud into the very heart of the hostile regions, with ordersto find the lurking-place of the swarming savages and "hold them" fromthe east, there came a command and a commander famed in song and story.Between them and the Big Horn heights and canons, where lay the comradeforce of Crook, there rolled a glorious tract of wooded crest, ofsweeping, upland prairie, of deep and sheltered valley, of plashingstream and foaming torrent, and there in their guarded fastness,exulting in their strength, mad with rejoicing over their easy victory,lighting the valley for miles with their council-fires, rousing theechoes with triumphant shout and speech, thousand upon thousand gatheredthe Indian foemen, "covering the hills like a red cloud."
