The Indians unwittingly played right into these white men’s hands, by doing all the wrong things. The Indians also fought among themselves. Some tribes had been at war with other tribes for as long as they could remember. Many Indians were killed by white men’s bullets; but far more were killed by white men’s diseases, such as smallpox and tuberculosis. It was not only the six-shooter and the rifle that caused the Indians’ demise—it was the telegraph wire, the train, the buffalo hunters, and the plow.
The Indians were either unable or unwilling to adjust to the changing times. It was simply a matter of a more advanced culture overwhelming a less advanced culture. They were not less intelligent—they were less culturally advanced and were still a Stone-Age society. The Indians made life difficult for the white man for a few years, but their culture was doomed from the very beginning. They could steal the white man’s gun, but when they ran out of bullets, the gun was then useless because they couldn’t manufacture another bullet. The gun didn’t even make a good club. A white man would either make another bullet, or use the metal in the gun to shape into another weapon, or make it into a tool. The Indians never did.
Chapter 9
The Indian Attack
The time was a Monday morning. The travelers were rested and wanted an early start. Before the wagon train was geared up to roll, Pat and Puma were already on the trail, searching for the best route and always watching for signs of impending danger.
The land was getting drier and more broken. In the distance, Puma saw rolling hills, giving way to gullies and canyons. The land was sparsely covered with vegetation. The vegetation that was able to withstand the drier conditions was doing better than the ones familiar to him. There were almost no fruit-bearing plants or trees; no berries, no plums. There were plenty of jackrabbits, and plenty of coyotes to prey upon them. Puma saw wolf tracks and signs of mountain lions. Only rarely did he see the tracks of bears.
“Pat,” Puma asked, “Why are we going into this barren land, when the land behind us is much better?”
“We are many days from our destination,” Pat replied. “Ahead, there are tall mountains—much taller than any you have seen, and they will be covered with snow. Beyond those mountains, there is better land. It’s still dry, but it’s rich in other ways.”
“How can the mountains be covered with snow in the summer?” Puma asked.
“The higher the mountains are the colder it gets, and these mountains are so high that their tops are always covered with snow,” answered Pat.
“That will be a something wonderful to see, and is my father beyond those mountains?”
“Yes, your father’s ranch is in the valley of the river that drains the melting snow from those mountains. You will meet him after we cross them.”
“Then let us hurry; I am eager to see him. Will he be glad to see me?”
“He will be very glad to see you. You will have a new mother, also. She is very beautiful. She knows about you, and she will be pleased to see you. And you have a little sister. She is about two years younger than you. There are many other children your age for you to meet.”
“I am no child. I am a man now,” Puma said emphatically.
“Yes, I know you are a man, but there are still many things you need to learn—that is why you are riding with me so that I can teach you. Your father will want to teach you, also. Do you see the pony tracks on the trail we are following?”
Puma answered, “Yes, those are the tracks of Indian ponies.”
“How do you know they are Indian ponies?”
“They are unshod.”
“How many riders are there in their party?”
“I do not know how many, but there are many. There are more than the fingers on both my hands.”
“Dismount and let’s see what we can learn from those tracks. They could be the tracks of a hunting party, or they could be the tracks of a raiding party. If they are a raiding party, they probably plan to attack the wagons. I’ve been watching those tracks, and I’ve seen two places where riders have left the main party. They could be scouting the wagon train to see how many men are guarding them. Let’s take a look at those tracks.”
“How can you tell from the tracks how many riders there are, and what the intentions of the riders might be?”
“If the tracks are clean and no dirt has blown into them, we will know that they were made only a short time ago. If dust has blown into the tracks, and there’s only a little wind, the tracks have been here for a while. With practice, you can learn to judge closely how long the tracks have been there. Horses leave droppings. If it’s fresh, you know it has been there only a short time. If it’s dry, it has been there long enough to dry out. You’ll soon learn to judge how long it takes for the droppings to dry to that extent, and then you’ll be able to judge how long it has been since the horses that left the droppings passed this way.”
“But how can you tell how many horses have passed when their tracks are all mixed up, with one track on top of another?”
“A horse’s hoof print is like a man’s handprint; each one is different. It’s hard to tell with only one set of tracks, but by watching them for a while, you can begin to see the differences. You can make a good estimate of how many riders are in the party. It’s my guess that there are about thirty riders in this party, and they are not a hunting party. This means they probably are a raiding party. We must be careful not to be taken by surprise. They probably already know we are behind them. They will want to eliminate us before they attack the wagon train to prevent us from warning our people.”
Puma said, “These tracks are very recent. Does that mean the party is close?”
“Yes, it does. Your horse is one of the fastest I have ever seen. They will not be able to catch you, so ride as fast as you can back to the wagon train and warn the wagon master that he is going to be attacked.”
“How about you? Shouldn’t I stay with you and help you to fight them?”
“No, I’ll be all right. You are light and your horse is fast, so go quickly and warn the people. Don’t worry about me; I’ve been in these situations before. Go! I’ll see you later at the wagon train.”
Puma mounted, leaned forward on his mare and urged her to run. Lightning loved to run, and it was easy to get her into full stride. As he rounded the first knoll, he saw them—four of them. He instantly recognized his old enemy, the Comanche. They were bearing down upon him, riding their horses in a full run, brandishing their tomahawks.
Puma leaned forward in the saddle and whispered in his horse’s ear, “Lightning, show them your hoofs!”
The little mare lunged forward with a burst of speed, startling both Puma and his pursuers. Two of the four Comanche warriors followed Puma determined to overtake him, while the other two tried to intercept him before he reached the wagons. They knew the lay of the land better than Puma. Puma rode across the rough terrain without concern for his own safety. The Comanche thought they had him, but at the last moment Puma changed directions and crossed behind them. Before they could recover their direction to follow him, he was long gone. They tried to follow and then, realizing they had no chance of overtaking him, gave up in disgust. They returned to join the others who were after Pat.
Pat was a wily old fox. He had been chased by Indians many times, and he knew every trick in the book. Each time they thought they had him trapped, he would slip through their fingers, and each time he got a little closer to the wagon train and closer to help. He knew the Indians would have no chance of catching Puma. Puma was light, and Lightning was fast. That little mare had been a special gift from Sage. Now she will save the life of his son. Puma was smart; he will make it to the wagon train, and Grant will know what to do. The Indians will not be able to mount a surprise attack.
Puma rode into the group of wagons at full speed and yelled one of the many words he had learned in English, “Comanche!”
Grant yelled to the men, “Circle the wagons!” Then he ran to Puma and aske
d, “Where’s Pat?”
“He’s following, but the Comanche are after him. I go back to help,” Puma said as he quickly turned and sped away.
Grant was astonished at the courage of this young man. He was but a boy in years, but he was every inch a man in courage.
Grant called out, “Dan, and you, Jim, let’s follow that boy. He’ll lead us to Pat. The Indians have him cornered.”
Getting closer to Pat, Puma heard gunfire and dismounted. He crawled, remaining concealed behind the shrubs in the draw. He saw Pat holed up in the bottom of a little ravine, trying to find shelter under some brush, waiting for a chance to use the six-shooter he was so capable with. Pat didn’t see the warrior that was stalking him from behind. Just as the warrior was about to throw his lance from short range, Puma threw his own lance and the point penetrated the heart of the assailant. Under his breath, Puma whispered to himself, “That one was for my mother.” He sent an arrow into the chest of the second one, and said, “That was for my little brother.” And then he said, “This is for my little sister,” as he threw his ax and split the skull of the last of the attackers.
With three dead Indians lying at his feet, Pat emerged from the place where he had taken refuge and asked, “Did you see my horse?”
Puma said, “Yeah, he’s right over that knoll. I will call Lightning, and we will get him for you.”
Puma gave a low whistle and Lightning arrived almost instantly. Puma quickly mounted and in only a moment returned with Pat’s horse. Pat smiled as he watched Puma silently remove the amulet he had been wearing around his neck and place it in his saddlebag. Pat was aware of the custom and knew that Puma had settled the score for the slaughter of his family. His heart would be a little less heavy now.
Grant and the other two men were just arriving when Pat exclaimed, “Let’s get the hell out of here!”
The four men left the ravine, their horses in a full run. Puma recovered his weapons and, in no time, he was leading the group. They bounded into the circle of wagons, dismounted while their horses were still running, and turned to meet the attacking Comanche with a volley of gunfire.
The battle raged for over an hour. The Indians attacked in waves, rushing in from the hillside. When they couldn’t break into the circle of wagons, they withdrew to the cover of brush beside the river. On one occasion, while the band was attacking from the hillside, three warriors broke into the circle of wagons. They went right for the women and girls.
Pat yelled, “Kill them. Don’t chase them! They’re trying to draw us into the open. They’re hoping to take hostages; they know we’ll chase after them to save the women. They want us to come out from our barricades. That will give them an opportunity to kill off the ones who come out, and, in that way, they’ll weaken our defense.”
Their strategy almost worked. The warriors had captured two women and the girl Puma had rescued from the river. They were dragging them from their hiding place when the girl’s father ran after them and grappled with the warriors holding the girl. The women were screaming. Puma turned just in time to see the warrior ready to strike a lethal blow to the head of girl’s father. When the warrior raised the arm that was holding the tomahawk, he exposed his chest, and Puma threw his knife, striking the attacker under the arm. Puma’s knife plunged into the raider’s chest up to the hilt. The attacker made a deathly gasp and dropped to the ground, releasing the girl. The other two Indians, seeing their comrade killed, released their captives and fled into the open, trying to reach the cover of the trees. Her father quickly led the girl and the women to cover. Only one of the kidnapers escaped—Pat dropped one with a rifle bullet to his head.
“I don’t think they’ll try that again,” Grant said.
The attackers withdrew to count their losses. After counting their dead, the Indians realized they were not going to be able to overwhelm the wagons and decided to wait until dark to recover their dead and wounded. During the night, the people could hear the Comanche recovering their dead and wounded. One of the men with the wagons wanted to fire into them.
“No, let them clean up the mess,” Pat said. “It’s better they do it now than for us to have to do it in the morning.”
When the Indians completed retrieving their fallen members, they withdrew. Glancing at Pat, Grant said, “Right now, they’re wondering what hit them in that ravine. They thought they had you for sure.”
“I was looking at my hole card, all right,” Pat said, “when all of a sudden it started raining dead Comanche all around me. I haven’t seen any thing like that since I watched Puma’s father dispatch those two Indians who were attacking Sally when the Kiowa had your wagon train cornered.”
Grant nodded. “Can you imagine what he and his father could do if they were fighting together? They could take on the whole damn tribe. Sage is going to be proud of his boy.”
Pat remarked, “Hell, I’m proud of him enough for both of us.”
One of the women who had been rescued said, “I think we should feed this young man and let him get some rest. He must be getting a little tuckered out about now. He’s had a busy day.”
The father of the girl Puma had now rescued twice walked up to Puma, extended his hand and said, “Son, I’m in your debt. Whatever I can do to repay you, just name it.”
Puma accepted his hand and said, “I’m just trying to find my father.”
The man replied, “I’ll do everything in my power to see to it that you do.”
The girl Puma had saved stood shyly behind her father. She stepped up to Puma and said, “My name is Rita.” She grabbed him, gave him a big hug and said, “Thank you.”
Puma was glad it was dark and no one could see how embarrassed he was. Rita’s mother handed Puma a plate of food and asked, “Will you join us for supper?”
Puma could not understand what she was saying. He looked questioningly at Pat.
Pat nodded, “We’ll join you, if I’m also invited.”
Rita took Puma’s hand and led him to their wagon and said, “I’ll teach you to speak English. I’ll also teach you to count and to add."
”Puma, in very broken English, said, “Thank you, I want to learn.”
Chapter 10
The Flood
The following morning, while riding ahead of the wagons, Pat and Puma saw dark clouds hanging menacingly over the eastern slopes of the foothills. They heard the rumbling of distant thunder rolling down the canyons, indicating the possibility that violent weather was coming.
Pat commented, “The heavy rain in those clouds is going to pose a serious threat to the wagons while they are trying to cross the canyons that will be draining all that water. Perhaps we can get the wagons across before the water fills the canyons so much that they will be possible to cross. If we fail, we will be stranded on this side until the mud in those canyons dries out, and that could take days. We’re running low on supplies, and we still have two weeks to go before we reach the top of the pass in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. Those clouds are sure to be dropping snow in the pass. Let’s see what we can do to speed up the movement of this wagon train.”
They returned to the wagons, riding their horses at a full gallop. Lightning loved every mile of the run. Puma was so proud of his little mare. She could run like the wind, and Puma liked the feel of the wind as they went tearing through the gullies and canyons, with his hair streaming out behind him like a banner flying in a stiff breeze. Pat’s larger and stronger horse was having a difficult time keeping pace. They reached the wagons before midmorning. The train was moving smoothly but slowly on its westward trek.
Grant saw them coming and rode out to meet them. Pat explained the peril of being late in crossing the canyons that were sure to be flooded by the heavy rain that was falling in the foothills. Grant agreed it was better to cross before the flood arrived. They rode back to the wagons and urged the drivers to get the utmost speed out of their teams. Grant explained that they would be able to rest after they had crossed the canyons. They had t
hree canyons to cross, and the last one was the most dangerous.
Pat and Grant took an extra team across the canyon to assist in pulling the heavy wagons up the steep far side. The extra team worked just fine until they got to the last canyon. Then the next to the last wagon broke an axle at the bottom of the canyon, stranding the last wagon. There wasn’t room for the last wagon to pass.
Pat asked Puma to ride up the canyon and watch for the water they knew would be coming. Puma was to let them know if the water rose to a dangerous level. He stationed himself about a half-hour ride up the canyon and was sitting on Lightning keeping a close watch.
Before he saw the rising water, he heard its distant roar. It sounded like a stampeding herd of buffalo. The roar was echoing off the walls of the canyon. The ground was trembling. Then Puma saw the water coming. Nothing could withstand the mighty force of that stream gone mad. The water was tearing down the sides of the canyon, carrying trees and debris in its wake.
Puma turned Lightning downstream, patted her on the neck, and whispered, “Take me to the wagons.” Lightning laid her ears back and was off in a burst of speed, carrying her master to the destination he had asked. Lightning required no guiding; she was mountain-bred and understood the terrain. They arrived only a short time before the roar of water could be heard. He called out, “Flash flood coming!”
Grant shouted to the riders, “Bring your horses! We’ll carry the belongings of these wagons out on horseback.”
Puma rode into the canyon and carried the first load on Lightning. When he reached safety, he dumped what he was carrying and returned for another load. On the third trip, he saw the mighty wall of water bearing down on him and his mount.
One of the men threw him a rope and yelled, “Jump off and we’ll pull you to safety. Leave your horse; she’s lost!”
Puma yelled back, “There’s no way I’m going to leave my horse. She has saved not only my life, but she has saved the wagon train, also.” He tied the rope to the pommel of his saddle and said, “Pull us out with your horses!” He clung to the saddle while Lightning struggled to maintain her footing in the raging waters. Puma and Lightning were being dragged under.
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