by Charles King
CHAPTER IX
BAD NEWS FROM THE FRONT
It might well be imagined that a man returning from such a morning'swork as had been Blake's could be excused from duty the rest of the day.He and his little party had had a spirited running fight of severalhours with an evasive and most exasperating trio of warriors, bettermounted for swift work than were the troopers. He had managed eventuallyto bring down one of the Indians who lingered a little too long withinshort range of the carbines, but it was the pony, not the rider, thatthey killed. Meanwhile other Indians had appeared on distant divides,and one feathered brave had galloped down to meet his comrades, and firea few shots at the pursuing pale faces. But at no time, until near theirsupports and far from the fort, had the Sioux halted for a hand to handfight, and Blake's long experience on the frontier had stood him in goodstead. He saw they were playing for one of two results;--either to lurehim and his fellows in the heat of pursuit far round to the northwest,where were the united hundreds of Lame Wolf and Stabber stalking thatbigger game, or else to tempt Blake himself so far ahead of his fellowsas to enable them to suddenly whirl about, cut him off, and, three onone, finish him then and there; then speed away in frenzied delight,possessors of a long-coveted scalp.
They well knew Blake,--almost as well as they did Ray. Many a year hehad fought them through the summer and fed them through the winter.They, their squaws and pappooses, had fattened on his bounty when thesnows were deep and deer were gone, and their abundant rations had beenfeasted or gambled away. Many of their number liked him well, but nowthey were at the war game again, and, business is business with theaborigines. Blake was a "big chief," and he who could wear at his beltthe scalp of so prominent a pale face leader would be envied among hispeople. "Long Legs," as they called him, however, was no fool. Brave andzealous as he was, Blake was not rash. He well knew that unless he andhis few men kept together they would simply play into the hands of theIndians. It would have been easy for him, with his big racer, tooutstrip his little party and close with the Sioux. Only one of thetroopers had a horse that could keep pace with Pyramus, but nothing hecould gain by such a proceeding would warrant the desperate risk.Matchless as we have reason to believe our men, we cannot so believe ourmounts. Unmatched would better describe them. Meisner's horse might haverun with the captain's, until crippled by the bullets of the Sioux, butBent's and Flannigan's were heavy and slow, and so it resulted that thepursuit, though determined, was not so dangerous to the enemy but thatthey were able to keenly enjoy it, until the swift coming of Kennedyand his captive comrade turned the odds against them, for then two ofBlake's horses had given out through wounds and weakness, and they hadthe pursuers indeed "in a hole."
That relief came none too soon. Blake and his fellows had been broughtto a stand; but now the Sioux sped away out of range; the crippled partylimped slowly back to the shelter of Frayne, reaching the post longhours after their spirited start, only to find the women and children,at least, in an agony of dread and excitement, and even Dade and hisdevoted men looking grave and disturbed. Unless all indications failed,Ray and his people must have been having the fight of their lives. Twocouriers had galloped back from Moccasin Ridge to say that Major Webb'sscouts could faintly hear the sound of rapid firing far ahead, and that,through the glass, at least a dozen dead horses or ponies could be seenscattered over the long slope to the Elk Tooth range, miles further on.Webb had pushed forward to Ray's support, and Blake, calling for freshhorses for himself and two of his men, bade the latter get food andfield kits and be ready to follow him. Then he hastened to join hisdevoted young wife, waiting with Mrs. Ray upon the piazza. Dade, who hadmet him at the ford, had still much to tell and even more to hear; butat sight of those two pale, anxious faces, lifted his cap and called outcheerily, "I hand him over to you, Mrs. Blake, and will see him later,"then turned and went to his own doorway, and took Esther's slender formin his strong arms and kissed the white brow and strove to think ofsomething reassuring to say, and never thought to ask Blake what he hadin that fine Indian tobacco pouch swinging there at his belt, for whichneglect the tall captain was more than grateful. It was a woman'sletter, as we know, and that, he argued, should be dealt with only in awoman's way.
Sorely puzzled as Blake had been by the discovery, he had been able onthe long homeward march,--walking until in sight of Frayne and safety,then galloping ahead on the corporal's horse,--to think it out, as hesaid, in several ways. Miss Flower had frequently ridden up the valleyand visited the Indian village across the Platte. Miss Flower mighteasily have dropped that note, and some squaw, picking it up, hadsurrendered it to the first red man who demanded it, such being thedomestic discipline of the savage. The Indian kept it, as he would anyother treasure trove for which he had no use, in hopes of reward for itsreturn, said Blake. It was queer, of course, that the Indian in whosepouch it was found should have been so fluent a speaker of English, yetmany a Sioux knew enough of our tongue to swear volubly and talk tenwords of vengeance to come. There were several ways, as Blake reasoned,by which that letter might have got into the hands of the enemy. But atany rate, with everything said, it was a woman's letter. He had no rightto read it. He would first confide in his wife, and, if she said so, inMrs. Ray. Then what they decided should decide him.
But now came a new problem. Despite the long morning of peril and chaseand excitement, there was still much more ahead. His men were in saddle;his troop was afield; the foe was in force on the road to the north; thebattle, mayhap, was on at the very moment, and Frayne and home was noplace for him when duty called at the distant front. Only, there wasNan, silent, tremulous, to be sure, and with such a world of piteousdread and pleading in her beautiful eyes. It was hard to have to tellher he must go again and at once, hard to have to bid her help him inhis hurried preparations, when she longed to throw herself in his armsand be comforted. He tried to smile as he entered the gate, and therebycracked the brittle, sun-dried court plaster with which a sergeant hadpatched his cheek at the stables. The would-be glad-some grin startedthe blood again, and it trickled down and splashed on his breast wherepoor Nan longed to pillow her bonny head, and the sight of it, despiteher years of frontier training, made her sick and faint. He caught herin his left arm, laughing gayly, and drew her to the other side. "Gotthe mate to that scoop of Billy's," he cried, holding forth his otherhand to Mrs. Ray. "'Tisn't so deep, perhaps, but 'twill serve, 'twilldo, and I'll crow over him to-night. Come in with us, Mrs. Ray. I--I'vesomething to show you."
"One minute," said that wise young matron. "Let me tell the childrenwhere to find me. Sandy and Billy are on post at the telescope. Theywouldn't leave it even for luncheon." With that she vanished, andhusband and wife were alone.
"You must go, Gerald," she sobbed--"I know it, but--isn't there _some_way?--Won't Captain Dade send more men with you?"
"If he did, Nan, they'd only hamper me with horses that drag behind. Bebrave, little woman. Webb has swept the way clear by this time! Come, Ineed your help."
And the door closed on the soldier and his young wife. They never sawthat Nanette Flower, in saddle, was riding swiftly up the row, and, forthe first time since her coming to Frayne, without an escort. Dadereappeared upon his front gallery in time to greet her, but Esther,after one quick glance, had darted again within. Dade saw unerringlythat Miss Flower was in no placid frame of mind. Her cheeks were pale;her mouth had that livid look that robbed her face of all beauty; buther eyes were full and flashing with excitement.
"What news, captain?" she hailed, and the joyous, silvery ring had gonefrom her voice. "They tell me Captain Blake is back--two horsescrippled, two men hit, including himself."
"His own share is a scratch he wouldn't think of mentioning outside thefamily, Miss Flower," answered Dade, with grim civility. He had hisreasons for disapproving of the young woman; yet they were not such aswarranted him in showing her the least discourtesy. He walked to hisgate and met her at the curb beyond and stood stroking the arching neckof her spirited horse--"Har
ney" again.
"Did they--were there any Indians--killed?" she asked, with anxietyscarcely veiled.
"Oh, they downed one of them," answered the captain, eying her closelythe while and speaking with much precision, "a fellow who cursed themfreely in fluent English." Yes, she was surely turning paler.--"A bold,bad customer, from all accounts. Blake thought he must be of Lame Wolf'sfellows, because he--seemed to know Kennedy so well and to hate him.Kennedy has only just come down from Fort Beecher, where Wolf's peoplehave been at mischief."
"But what became of him? What did they do with him?" interrupted thegirl, her lips quivering in spite of herself.
"Oh,--left him, I suppose," answered the veteran, with deliberatedesign. "What else could they do? There was no time for ceremony. Hisfellow savages, you know, can attend to that."
For a moment she sat there rigid, her black eyes staring straight intothe imperturbable face of the old soldier. No one had ever accused Dadeof cruelty or unkindness to man or woman, especially to woman; yet herehe stood before this suffering girl and, with obvious intent, picturedto her mind's eye a warrior stricken and left unburied or uncared for onthe field. Whatever his reasons, he stabbed and meant to stab, and forjust one moment she seemed almost to droop and reel in saddle; then,with splendid rally, straightened up again, her eyes flashing, her lipcurling in scorn, and with one brief, emphatic phrase ended theinterview and, whirling Harney about, smote him sharply with her whip,and darted away:--
"True!" said she. "Civilized warfare!"
"If that girl isn't more than half savage," said Dade, to himself, asHarney tore away out of the garrison on the road to the ford, "I am morethan half Sioux. Oh, for news of Ray!"
Ray indeed! It was now nearly four o'clock. Telegrams had been comingand going over the Laramie wire. "The Chief," as they called theirgeneral, with only one of his staff in attendance, had reached Cheyenneon time, and, quitting the train, declining dinner at the hotel andhaving but a word or two with the "Platform Club,"--the little bevy ofofficers from Fort Russell whose custom it was to see the westboundtrain through almost every day--had started straightway for Laramiebehind the swiftest team owned by the quartermaster's department, whileanother, in relay, awaited him at the Chugwater nearly fifty miles out.Driving steadily through the starlit night, he should reach the oldfrontier fort by dawn at the latest, and what news would Dade have tosend him there? Not a word had he uttered to either the officers whorespectfully greeted, or reporters who eagerly importuned, him as to thesituation at Frayne; but men who had served with him in Arizona and onthe Yellowstone many a year before, knew well that grave tidings hadreached him. Dade had, in fact, supplemented Webb's parting despatchwith another saying that Blake's little party, returning, had just beensighted through the telescope nine miles out, with two men afoot. Butnot until the general reached Lodge Pole Creek did the message meet him,saying that Webb's advance guard could hear the distant attack on Ray.Not until he reached the Chugwater in the early night could he hope tohear the result.
It was nightfall when the awful suspense of the garrison at Frayne waseven measurably lifted. Blake, with three troopers at his back, had thenbeen gone an hour, and was lost in the gloaming before Dr. Tracy'sorderly, with a face that plainly told the nervous tension of his twohours' ride, left his reeking, heaving horse at the stables and climbedthe steep path to the flagstaff, the shortest way to the quarters of thecommanding officer. Despite the gathering darkness, he had been seen bya dozen eager watchers and was deluged with questions by trembling,tearful women and by grave, anxious men.
"There's been a fight; that's all I know," he said. "I was with the packmules and the ambulances and didn't get to see it. All I saw was deadponies way out beyond Ten Mile Ridge. Where's the major?--I mean thecaptain?" No! the orderly didn't know who was killed or wounded, or thatanybody was killed and wounded. All he knew was that Dr. Tracy camegalloping back and ordered the ambulances to scoot for the front and himto spur every bit of the way back to Frayne with the note for CaptainDade.
All this was told as he eagerly pushed his way along the board walk;soldiers' wives hanging on his words and almost on him; officers' wivesand daughters calling from the galleries or running to the gates, andDade heard the hubbub almost as quickly as did Esther, who hurried tothe door. By the light of the hall lamp the commander read the pencilledsuperscription of the gummed envelope and the word "Immediate" at thecorner. The same light fell on a dozen anxious, pleading faces beyondthe steps. His hand shook in spite of himself, and he knew he could notopen and read it in their presence. "One moment," he said, his heartgoing out to them in sympathy as well as dread. "You shall hear in onemoment," and turned aside into the little army parlor.
But he could not turn from his wife and child. They followed and stoodstudying his pale face as he read the fateful words that told so little,yet so much:--
Reached Ray just in time. Sharp affair. Dr. Waller will have to come at once, as Tracy goes on with us to rescue stage people at Dry Fork. Better send infantry escort and all hospital attendants that can be possibly spared; also chaplain. Sergeants Burroughs and Wing, Corporal Foot and Troopers Denny, Flood, Kerrigan and Preusser killed. Many wounded--Lieutenant Field seriously.
WEBB.
