A Daughter of the Sioux: A Tale of the Indian frontier

by Charles King

  CHAPTER II

  ABSENT FROM DUTY

  For a moment the major stood in silence; then, briefly saying, "CallCaptain Ray," turned again to the dimly lighted hallway of hiscommodious quarters, (the women thought it such a shame there should beno "lady of the house" for the largest and finest of the long line knownas "Officers' Row") while the sergeant of the guard scurried away to thesoldier home of the senior cavalry captain on duty at the post. When themajor again came forth his field glasses were in his hand and he hadhurried down the steps and out into the broad sheen of the moonlightwhen he caught sight of the courier seated on the horseblock at thegate, wearily leaning his head upon his gauntleted hand. Webb stoppedshort:

  "Come right in here, my lad," he cried, "I want to speak with you," and,followed slowly by the soldier, he entered his parlor, and whirled aneasy chair in front of the open fireplace. "Sit right down there now,and I'll be with you in a minute," he added; bustled into the rear roomand presently reappeared with a decanter and glass; poured out a stifftot of Monongahela; "A little water?" he asked, as the trooper's eyebrightened gratefully. A little water was added and off came the righthand gauntlet. "I drink the major's health and long life to him," saidthe soldier, gulping down the fluid without so much as a wink. Then,true to his training, set down the glass and stood strictly atattention.

  "You've had nothing to eat since yesterday morning, I'll be bound," saidWebb. "Now, I've got to see some of my officers at once. You makeyourself at home here. You'll find cold beef, bread, cheese, pickles,milk, if you care for it, and pie right there in the pantry. Take thelamp in with you and help yourself. If you want another nip, there's thedecanter. You've made splendid time. Did you meet no Indians?"

  "Not one, sir, but I saw smokes at sunset out toward Eagle Butte."

  "Your name--I see you belong to Captain Truscott's troop."

  "Kennedy, sir; and I thank the major."

  "Then I'll leave you in charge until you've had your fill," said thecommander. "Then go over to 'F' Troop's quarters and get a bed. Tellanybody who comes I've gone to the flagstaff." With that the majorstalked from the room, followed by the Irishman's adoring eyes. A momentlater he stood by the tall white staff at the edge of the northwardbluff, at whose feet the river swept by in musical murmurings. There hequickly focussed his glass, and gazed away westward up the Platte towhere but the evening before a score of Indian lodges dotted the otherbank, perhaps two miles away. The September moon was at its full and, inthat rare, cloudless atmosphere, flooding the valley with its soft,silvery light so that close at hand, within the limits of the garrison,every object could be almost as distinctly seen as in broad day-light,but, farther away, over the lowlands and the river bottom and therolling prairie stretching to the northern horizon, the cottonwoodsalong the stream or in the distant swales made only black blotchesagainst the vague, colorless surface, and the bold bluffs beyond thereservation limits south of the flashing waters, the sharp, sawlike edgeof the distant mountain range that barred the way to the west, even thecleancut outlines of Eagle Butte, the landmark of the northward prairie,visible for fifty miles by day, were now all veiled in some intangiblefilament that screened them from the soldier's searching gaze. Later inthe season, on such a night, their crests would gleam with radiancealmost intolerable, the glistening sheen of their spotless crown ofsnow. All over this broad expanse of upland prairie and wooded river bedand boldly undulating bluff line not so much as a spark of fire peepedthrough the wing of night to tell the presence of human wayfarer, white,halfbreed or Indian, even where the Sioux had swarmed, perhaps twohundred strong, at sunset of the day gone by.

  Close at hand, northernmost of the brown line, was the double set ofquarters occupied by Captains Blake and Ray, the latter, as senior,having chosen the half nearest the bluff because of the encirclingveranda and the fine, far-extending view. A bright light gleamed nowbehind the blinds of the corner room of the second floor, telling thatthe captain was up and dressing in answer to the commander's summons,but all the rest of the dozen houses were black, save where at themiddle of the row a faint glow came from the open doorway at thecommanding officer's. Across the broad level of the parade were thelong, low barracks of the troops, six in number, gable-ending east andwest. Closing the quadrangle on the south were the headquartersbuildings and the assembly room, the offices of the adjutant andquartermaster, the commissary and quartermaster's storehouses, etc. Atthe southwest angle stood the guard-house, where oil lamps, backed bytheir reflectors of polished tin, sent brilliant beams of light athwartthe roadway. Beyond these low buildings the black bulk of the MedicineBow Mountains, only a dozen miles away, tumbled confusedly against thesparkling sky. All spoke of peace, security, repose, for even in theflats under the westward bluff, where lay the wide extended corrals, hayand wood yards and the stables, not one of the myriad dogs that hungabout the post was lifting up his voice to bay the autumn moon. Eventhose easily-started night trumpeters, the big Missouri mules, sprawledabout their roomy, sand-floored stables and drowsed in placid comfort,wearied with their musical efforts of the earlier hours of the night andgathering impetus for the sonorous braying with which they shouldpresently salute the dawn.

  Beyond the guard-house, at the edge of the plateau overlooking thewestward flats, but invisible from the flagstaff bluff, stood the bigwooden edifice known as the store, with its card and billiard room forthe officers on the southern side, another for the enlisted men upon thenorthern, the bar and general merchandise establishment compressedbetween them. Southward, farther still, surrounded by crude greenhousesabounding in potted plants and beds of vine and vegetables, was the bigand somewhat pretentious house of the post trader himself, his ownstables and corral being half way down the slope and well away fromthose of the garrison. "Out of sight," muttered Webb, "but by no meansout of mind," for it was safe to say the thoughts of more than half themen and women making up the social element of Fort Frayne had beencentering within the last few days beneath the roof that gave shelter tothat brilliant, fascinating beauty Nanette Flower.

  Ten days a denizen of the fort, it seemed as though she had been thereas many weeks, so completely had she accepted the situation andpossessed herself of the ins and outs of garrison life. The women hadcalled, of course, and gone away filled with unwilling admiration, forthe girl's gowns and graces were undeniable. The married men, as was thearmy way, had called with their wives on the occasion of the firstvisit. The bachelors, from Webb down to the junior subaltern, had calledin little squads at first; afterwards, except the major, they sought tosee Miss Flower when other fellows were not present. Even Hartley andDonovan, the two whose devotions to Esther Dade had been carried to theverge of oppression, and who were on terms of distant civility only whencompelled to appear together in the presence of women or their othersuperiors, had been moved to more than one visit at the Hays', butHartley speedily returned to his undesired siege at the quarters ofCaptain Dade, while Donovan joined forces with two other youngsters,Bruce and Putney, because it gave them comfort to bother Field; who,being the adjutant, and a very busy man, could visit only at certainhours of the day or evening. Now, it had become apparent to the boysthat despite her general attitude of cordiality their attentions werenot what Mrs. Hay so much desired as those of the major commanding.Twice had he been invited to dine within the week of Nanette's coming.Once he accepted. The second time he begged off on plea of a previousengagement, subsequently made, to go shooting with Blake. It was thebachelor heart and home of Major Webb to which Mrs. Hay would have laidvicarious siege, small blame to her, for that indomitablecross-examiner, Mrs. Wilkins, wife and manager of the veteran ranker nowserving as post quartermaster, had wormed out of Mrs. Hay the admissionthat Nanette had no fortune. She was the only daughter of a halfbrother, very dear to Mrs. Hay, whom she had lost, she said, long yearsbefore. To do her justice, it was quite apparent that Miss Flower was noparty to the plan, for, though she beamed on Webb as she did on all, shefrankly showed her preference for the younger of
ficers who could danceas well as ride, and either dancing or riding was her glory. She dancedlike a sylph; she seemed to float about the room as though on air; sherode superbly, and shirked no leap that even Ray and Field took withlowered hands and close gripping knees. She was joyous, laughing,radiant with all the officers, and fairly glowed with cordiality for allthe women. But it speedily developed that she would rather dance withField than any of the others, probably because he was by far the bestwaltzer, and to ride with him, because, Ray excepted, there was none toexcel him in the saddle. Ten days had she been at Frayne and within thattime had become as thoroughly at ease and home as though it had been herabiding place since babyhood. It was plain to see that big Bill Hayalmost worshipped this lovely _protegee_ of the wife he more thanworshipped. It was plain to see that Webb uneasily held aloof, as thoughfearful of singeing his shrivelling wings. It was plain to see that thehitherto indomitable Mrs. Wilkins was puzzled. It was not so plain tosee that there were two women at the post on whom Miss Flower's charmsmade slight impression--Mesdames Blake and Ray--two wise young matronswho were known to have few secrets from each other and no intimacies--orrather no confidences--with any other woman at Fort Frayne--Mrs. Dadepossibly excepted.

  But what they thought, their liege lords stood ready to swear to; and itwas to them Webb turned in his perplexity when it became apparent thathis young adjutant was ensnared. It was to Ray he promptly opened hisheart, as that veteran of a dozen Indian campaigns, then drawing hisfourth "fogy," came hastening out to join the commander.

  "Here's confirmation of the telegram. Read that, Ray," said Webb,handing him the despatch from Fort Beecher. "Then come with me toField's. He's missing."

  "Missing!" cried Ray, in consternation, as he hurriedly opened the page."In God's name what do you mean?"

  "I mean he isn't in quarters and hasn't been in bed to-night. Now I needhim--and it's two o'clock."

  Even as he spoke the voice of the sentry at the guard-house rang out thewatch call through the still and sparkling night. It was taken up byNumber Two back of the storehouses, and his "All's well" was stillechoing among the foothills, prolonged and powerful, when Number Three,down at the quartermaster's corral, began his soldier song; and so,alert, cheery, reassuring, the sentries sent their deep-voiced assuranceon its unbroken round to the waking guardian at the southwest angle, andas his final "A-a-a-ll's W-e-ell" went rolling away over bluff andstream and prairie, Ray lifted a grave and anxious face from the fatefulpaper.

  "Lame Wolf out? That's bad in itself! He's old Red Cloud's nephew and abrute at best. Stabber's people there yet?" he suddenly asked, whirlingon his heel and gazing westward.

  "Can't make out even with my glasses. All dark as pitch among thecottonwoods, but Kennedy, who made the ride, says he saw smokes back ofEagle Butte just before sunset."

  "Then you can bet they won't be there at dawn--the warriors at least. Ofcourse the women, the kids and old men will stay if only for a blind. Hehad forty fighting men, and Wolf's got at least two hundred. Whatstarted the row?"

  "The arrest of those two young bucks on charge of killing Finn, thesheep herder, on the Piney last week. I don't believe the Sioux beganit. There's a bad lot among those damned rustlers," said Webb, snappingthe glass into its well-worn case. "But no matter who starts, we have tofinish it. Old Plodder is worried and wants help. Reckon I'll have tosend you, Ray."

  "Ready whenever you say, sir," was the prompt and soldierly reply. Evenmarriage had not taken the edge from Ray's keen zest for campaigning."Shall I have out my sergeant and cooks at once? We'll need to takerations."

  "Yes, but wait with me till I wire the chief at Laramie. Come to theoffice." So saying the post commander turned and strode away. Thecaptain glanced at the upper window where the light now dimly burned,but blind and window were open, and a woman's form appeared.

  "It's all right, Maidie," called the captain, softly. "May have to startout on scout at daybreak. That's all. Home soon," and with a reassuringwave of the hand, turned again to his stanch friend and commander.

  "I hate to send you--again," said Webb. "You were out in June, and theothers have had only short scouts since--"

  "Don't bother. What's a cavalryman for? Shall we?--I--can't believeit--some how," and Ray stopped, glanced inquiringly at the major, andthen nodded toward the doorway of the third house on the row. The groundfloor was occupied by Field as his quarters, the up-stair rooms byPutney and Ross.

  "Come in," said the major, briefly, and, pushing through the gate theysoftly entered the dark hallway and struck a light in the front room. Awood fire was smouldering on the andirons in the wide brick chimneyplace. An open book, face downward, was on the centre table. Twoembroidered slippers lay as though hurriedly kicked off, one under thesofa beyond the mantelpiece, the other half way across the worn carpet.Striking another match at the doorway, Ray passed on to the little innerroom,--the bed chamber. On the bed, carelessly thrown, were the youngofficer's best and newest forage cap, undress uniform coat and trousers.He had used them during the evening when calling at the Hays'. On thefloor were the enamelled leather buttoned boots he wore on suchoccasions. The bed was otherwise untouched. Other boots and shoes inorderly row stood against the wall beside the plain, unpainted wardrobe.The spurred riding boots and the knee-tight breeches were gone. Turningback to the front room, Ray found the major, his face gray anddisturbed, holding forth to him an open envelope. Ray took it andglanced at the superscription. "Lieutenant Beverly Field, Fort Frayne,"and returned it without a word. Both knew the strange, angular, slashinghand-writing at a glance, for both had seen and remarked it before. Itwas Nanette Flower's.

  Dropping the envelope on the table--he had found it on the floor--Webbled the way to the open air. There was then no time to compare views.There stood the sergeant.

  "Sir," said he, with a snap of the gloved left hand at the brown tubenestling in the hollow of the shoulder, "Number Five reports that he hasheard galloping hoofbeats up the bench twice in the last half hour, andthought he saw distant horsemen,--three;--couldn't say whether they wereIndians or cowboys."

  "Very good, sergeant," was the major's brief answer. "Send for thetelegraph operator and my orderly."

  The sergeant turned.

  "One moment," called Ray,--"your pardon, Major--My first sergeant, too,and--sergeant, have any sentries reported horses taken out from thestables to-night?"

  "Not one, sir," and, stanch and sturdy, the commander of the guard stoodready to vouch for his men.

  "That's all!"

  A quick salute, a face to the right about and the sergeant was gone.Webb turned and looked inquiringly at Ray.

  "I asked, sir," was that officer's brief explanation, "because whereverField has gone he wore riding dress."