_A LADY IN CAMP._
Camp "Andrew Jackson," in the southern part of Arizona, had not alwaysbeen without that brightest star on the horizon of an army officer'soutpost life, "A lady in camp." If you happened to be of sufficientlygood social standing, and clever fellow enough to be received andentertained by the officers of the One Hundred and First Cavalry--whichhad long garrisoned Camp Andrew Jackson--one or the other of them mighttell you, confidentially, lounging in a quartermaster-made chair underthe _ramada_ of the sutler-store, as far as he knew it, the story ofthis lady.
Camp Andrew Jackson was a two-company post; and the officers of bothcompanies, or the number remaining--after a liberal deduction bydetached service, furlough, and sick-list--had congregated one day,years ago, to discuss the chances of the major's arrival in the courseof the night or the following day. The place of congregating was thesutler-store, or the _ramada_ in front of it; time, between "stables"and "retreat."
"Don't I tell you," asserted young Grumpet, in his most emphatic manner,"don't I tell you that when I was in Tucson, the general told me that heshould not be able to let the major have more than five men and acorporal for escort from Tucson out here; and do you think that MajorStanford, with that young wife of his--a shining mark for Apachearrows--would venture on the road, in broad daylight, with this smallnumber? No, indeed. I tell you he'll start out from Tucson about thistime, reach Davidson's Springs at midnight, and get in here towardmorning in good order and condition."
"Seems to me I shouldn't be afraid to start out from Tucson, and goanywhere in broad daylight, with _my_ wife," said old Captain Manson,the post-commander, grimly.
An amused expression passed over the faces of the younger officers;everybody in camp knew, from hearsay, if not from personal observation,that the captain and his wife lived like "cats and dogs" when they weretogether, and that he would probably have let _her_ go out from Tucsonanywhere, in broad daylight and all alone, without the slightest fear orcompunction, had she been in Arizona.
"For my part," continued Mr. Grumpet, who had been assigned to the OneHundred and First, and ordered to Arizona immediately after graduatingfrom West Point, one year ago, "I shall be rejoiced to welcome a lady tothe camp. One grows rusty at these outposts in the course of years,without the refining influence of ladies' society--without opportunitiesof any kind for cultivating and improving one's intellect and manners."
"The One Hundred and First has always had an excellent library,embracing books suited to a wide range of capacities and intellect, froma 'First Reader' to 'Corinne' and the 'Cosmos.' And, as far as_tournure_ and manners are concerned," continued the gruff captain in alower tone, and turning to the post-adjutant beside him, "why, I'm surethe doctor and I have made Chesterfieldian prodigies of Tom, the pup;Bruin, the grizzly; and Chatter, the parrot!"
From the laugh that followed, the junior lieutenant of Company "F" knewthat something had been said to create this merriment at his expense;but he consoled himself with the thought that "old Manson" felt sorebecause Major Stanford would relieve him in the command of the post, andprobably make him (Grumpet) post-adjutant, as he belonged to themajor's company. Left in command of Company "F" by the seniorlieutenant's absence, and officer of the day at the same time, Mr.Grumpet felt that he had no more time to devote to this class ofmortals; so, bidding them a disdainful "_Adieu_," he proceeded to hisown quarters, where he arranged sash, sabre, and belt to the greatestadvantage on his sprightly person, and then awaited the summons to theparade-ground.
Whatever his meditations might have been, as his eyes wandered over theinterminable sand-waste before him, they were interrupted by thespectacle of a cloud of dust arising in the distance. Quickly returningto his brother officers, he called their attention to this phenomenon.
"If it is not a smoke that the Indians are raising for a signal, it mustbe the major with his party," was Captain Manson's opinion.
To Mr. Grumpet's infinite disgust he could not find time to argue thisquestion with his superior officer, for the arbitrary tones of the buglecalled him to the parade-ground, and when he next found time tocontemplate the landscape, the major's outfit was already in sight andslowly nearing the camp.
There is nothing martial in the appearance and progress of a military"outfit," unless accompanied by a command: the rough, gaunt mulesdrawing the dust-covered ambulance or carriage, followed, as the casemay be, by one, two, or three heavy army-wagons; the jaded, worn horsesof the escort, and the tired-looking, travel-stained men forming theescort, make a decidedly demoralized and demoralizing impression towardthe close of a long journey.
The two occupants of the elegant travelling-carriage accompanying thistrain were in a state of involuntary _deshabille_, owing to thesand-storm through which they had passed early that morning, duringwhich the major's hat and a number of Mrs. Stanford's veils and wrapshad taken to flight. Marcelita alone, seated beside the driver in thefront of the carriage, had sustained no losses; as her _rebozo_, theonly outside garment she possessed, had been so tightly wrapped aroundher that the storm had vented its fury in vain on her belongings.
Marcelita was one of those moon-faced, good-natured Mexican women wemeet with in New Mexico and Arizona. She had probably decided in her ownmind--though it was not very deep--that it was just as easy to smoke her_cigarritos_ lounging on the floor of the _adobe_ quarters of CampAndrew Jackson, earning thereby _dos reales_ per day, and anever-failing supply of _frijoles con carne_, as it was to perform thesame amount of labor in Tucson, where nothing could be earned by it, andthe supplies of the dainties just mentioned were by no means certain orunfailing. So Marcelita became Mrs. Stanford's maid. "Tiring-maid," Ishould have said; only I am very certain Marcelita would have drawn Mrs.Stanford's stockings on her arms, and one of the richly embroideredpetticoats _over_ the plainer-made dresses, had the attiring been leftto the taste and judgment of this dusky child of the soil.
Captain Manson alone greeted the major and his wife when the train drewup at the commanding officer's quarters, the younger officers discreetlyawaiting the morrow to pay their respects. In accordance with true "armyspirit," Major Stanford's quarters had been furnished with the best CampAndrew Jackson could boast of, in the way of household goods andfurniture, when it had become known that he was to bring a young wife tocamp. Not the officers of the army alone possess this knightly spirit;every soldier in the command is always ready and willing to part withthe best and dearest in his possession, to contribute to the comfort orpleasure of "the lady in camp." Major Stanford had not been with hiscompany since the close of the war; still, when the captain courteouslyinquired whether there was any particular individual in the company whomhe would prefer to take into his personal service, the major requestedthat Holly--who had already been an old soldier, while the major wascadet at West Point--might be sent him.
Holly demonstrated his joy at being thus distinguished by his "oldlieutenant;" and on returning to the men's quarters had so much to sayabout the beauty, grace, and goodness of the major's wife, that the menimmediately grew enthusiastic, and before tattoo obtained thesergeant-major's permission to serenade this first lady in Camp AndrewJackson, providing a sufficient number of instruments could be found.And Mrs. Stanford was awakened from her early slumbers by "music," thefirst night she spent in this camp.
There are always a number of tolerable musicians to be found amongalmost any body of soldiers. The One Hundred and First had always beencelebrated for the musical talent in the rank and file of its members;and though the Graces and the Muses had been somewhat neglected of lateyears, they threatened now to take possession of every individual man,with truly alarming fervor. Indeed, Mrs. Stanford's life was made verypleasant at this dreaded outpost in Arizona--albeit in a little,cheerless room, with mud walls and mud floor, carpeted half with soldierblankets half with old tent-cloth. A washstand of painted pine-wood, anda table of the same material in its native color; a bench to match; oneor two camp-chairs, and a camp-cot with red blanket--representing asofa-
-made up and completed the _ameublement_ of Mrs. Stanford's bestroom. But there were red calico curtains at the little windows, and abright rug upon the table; and books, and the thousand little_souvenirs_ and pretty trifles always to be found in a lady'spossession, were drawn out of trunks and boxes, and other hiding-places,to give the room a civilized aspect.
Still, it was not pleasant in this close-built room, with the doorshut; and open, the sand and reptiles drifted in promiscuously. Itbecame one of Marcelita's chief duties, in time, to examine the nooksand corners of the apartment before closing the door for the night, tomake sure that no intrusive rattlesnake had sought admittance, and toshake up pillows and blankets before her mistress retired, to see thatneither centipede nor tarantula shared her couch. Otherwise it wastolerable; even young Grumpet was agreeable, though he had not been madepost-adjutant, but he was Mrs. Stanford's most favored escort in herrides, and that made up for all other losses and disappointments.
The country was not altogether a howling wilderness, either; though theroad that passed close by the major's quarters led into the mostdesolate, the most Indian-ridden part of all Arizona, still, at a pointwhere the road made a sudden fall, a narrow path branched off, and ranimmediately into a little valley, where grass and wild flowers were keptfresh and blooming, by the spring at the foot of the hill. It was anoasis such as is frequently found in Arizona, more particularly at thefoot of the mountain ranges; and to this spot Mrs. Stanford, accompaniedby the major, Marcelita, or some one of the gentlemen, often bent hersteps, at times when no Indians were apprehended in the vicinity of thepost. The evenings at the garrison were dedicated to quiet games ofwhist, or interchange of the various news of the day. On Tuesdays, theseconversations were liveliest; for the mail came in from Tucson on thatday, and letters from the different outposts and the East were receivedand discussed.
One Tuesday there was, among the official papers laid on thepost-commander's desk, an order from Department Head-quarters directingthat provision be made for furnishing quarters to a company of infantry.Camp Andrew Jackson was to be made a three-company post, on account ofthe growing depredations of the hostile tribes of Indians. It was notuntil weeks afterward that any speculations were indulged as to whatcompany, of what regiment, had been assigned to the post; but at thehospitable board of the major's one evening, after a late tea, it wasthe irrepressible Grumpet who proclaimed that he knew to a certainty allabout the matter in question. Company "H" of the Forty-third Infantrywas coming, and had already reached Fort Yuma, _en route_ to Camp Lowell(Tucson).
"Then Crabtree is in command of the company; or has Captain Howell beenrelieved? He was on detached service in Washington, the last I heardfrom him," remarked Major Stanford. But Mr. Grumpet interrupted:
"There you are wrong, again; Crabtree is not with them at all."
"Why, how's that?" was asked from all sides; even Mrs. Stanford hadlooked up.
Whenever Grumpet had a good thing he always made the most of it; and itwas irresistibly charming to let Mrs. Stanford see that he knew morethan all the rest put together.
"Ahem! Mr. Crabtree, senior lieutenant of Company 'H,' Forty-thirdInfantry, has exchanged, with the sanction of the War Department, withMr. Addison--Charlie Addison, you know--of Company 'D,' Sixty-fifthInfantry."
In an "aside" to himself, he continued: "Well, I declare! I'veastonished Mrs. Stanford by my superior knowledge. Why, she's actuallystaring at me."
So she was; or, at least, her eyes were wide open, and her face was paleas death.
"Are you sick, Eva, my child?" asked the major; "or do you see anythingthat frightens you?"
"Neither," she answered, passing her hand over her face; "only tired alittle."
"There," put in the doctor, "I _thought_ Mrs. Stanford had baked thosetarts and prepared the salad, with her own hands, to-day, and now I amcertain of it; and I prescribe that the gentlemen immediately departfrom here, and leave Mrs. Stanford to rest, and her own reflections."
Her own reflections! They crowded on her fast and unbidden, when leftalone by her husband and the rest of the officers. Marcelita, afterhaving repeatedly assured her mistress that the house was free frominvading vermin, had settled down on the floor, with her back againstthe wall, when she found that Eva paid no heed to what she said. Afterawhile she grew bolder, and lighted and smoked _cigarritos_, enjoyingthem to her heart's content, while Eva was enjoying "her ownreflections."
"My dear child, did I stay out late? We all went into the sutler's alittle while, after taps. Did you sit up to wait for me?" asked themajor, kindly, breaking in on Eva's reflections.
Marcelita had started up out of a sound sleep when the major had firstentered the room, and she rolled into her own little tent now, into herbed, and back into the arms of the drowsy god, without once thinking ofscorpion or tarantula.
Weeks passed before any more tidings of the Forty-third were heard; thenthey entered Camp Andrew Jackson one day--not with fife and drum, andcolors flying, but silently, quietly; with shoulders stooping under theload of knapsack and musket--packed all day long through scorching sunand ankle-deep sand. It was not till Eva saw the line of tents newlypitched, on the following day, that she knew of the arrival.
"Yes," said the major, "they have come; but both Captain Howland andLieutenant Addison appear very reserved. I don't think either of themwill call till a formal invitation has been extended them. Perhaps wehad better invite them all to dinner some day--that will place them attheir ease to visit here, later."
Invitations, accordingly, were issued for a certain day; but the Fatesso willed it that the horses of Company "F" were stampeded from thepicket-line by a band of Apaches, during the night preceding; andArroyos, the guide, expressed his conviction that he could lead thetroops to the _rancheria_ of these Indians, and recover the horsestaken. Although Major Stanford's position as post-commander would havejustified him in sending some subaltern officer, he preferred to takecharge of the expedition in person, leaving the post in Captain Manson'shands.
"You look pale, child," said Major Stanford, bidding Eva farewell, whilethe orderly was holding his horse outside. "I am almost glad, on youraccount, that the dinner-party could be put off. Your color has beenfading for weeks, and if you do not brighten up soon, I shall have tosend you back home, to your aunt." And tenderly smoothing the glossyhair back from her face, he kissed it again and again, before vaultinginto the saddle.
Accompanied by Marcelita alone, Eva, toward evening, set out on herusual ramble, following the road from which the path branched off,leading into the valley. At the point where the road falls off towardTucson, she stopped before taking the path that led to the spring, andcast a long, shivering look around her. Wearily her eyes roamed over thedesolate land; wearily they followed the road, with its countlesswindings, far into the level country; wearily they watched the flight ofa solitary crow, flapping its wings as it hovered, with a doleful cry,over the one, single tree on the plain, that held its ragged branches upto the sky, as though pleading for the dews of heaven to nurture andexpand its stunted growth. An endless, dreary waste--an infinitude ofhopeless, changeless desert--a hard, yellow crust, where the wind hadleft it bare from sand, above which the air was still vibrating from theheat of the day, though the breeze that came with the sunset hadalready sprung up; the only verdure an occasional bush of grease-wood,or mesquite, with never a blade of grass, nor a bunch of weeds, in thewide spaces between.
Farther on to her right, she could see the rough, frowning rocks in themountain yonder, looking as though evil spirits had piled them there, inwell-arranged confusion, to prevent the children of earth from takingpossession of its steep heights, and its jealously-hidden treasures.
Grand, and lonely, and desolate looked the mountain, and lonely anddesolate looked the plain, as Eva stood there, her hands folded anddrooping, the light wind tossing her hair, and fluttering and playing inthe folds of her dress. It was the picture of her own life unfoldingbefore her: lone, and drear, and barren; without cha
nge or relief,without verdure, or blossom, or goodly springs of crystal water; thearid desert--her life, dragging its slow length along; the frowningmountain--her duties, and the unavoidable tasks that life imposed onher.
With a sigh she turned from both. Before her lay the cool valley,sheltered from careless eyes, and from the sand and dust of the road andthe country beyond. Very small was the valley of the spring, with itslaughing flowers and shady trees--like the one leaf from the volume ofher memory that was tinted with the color of the rose and the sunbeam.
"And up the valley came the swell of music on the wind"--bringing backscenes on which the sun had thrown its glorious parting rays in timespast, when life had seemed bright, and full of promise and inexhaustiblejoy. But she brought her face resolutely back to the desert and themountain.
She walked on rapidly toward the spring where Marcelita had spread her_rebozo_ on the trunk of a fallen tree, before starting out to gatherthe flowers that grew in the valley.
Almost exhausted, Eva had seated herself on the improvised couch, butwas startled by a step beside her. Was it a spirit conjured up by theflood of memories surging through her breast that stood before her?
"Eva!"
"Charlie, oh, Charlie! have you come at last?" But already the spell wasbroken.
"I cannot think why Lieutenant Addison should wish to surprise me here.Would it not be more fitting to visit our quarters, if he feltconstrained to comply with the etiquette of the garrison?"
"For God's sake, Eva," he cried, passionately, "listen to me one moment;grant that I may speak to you once more as Eva--not as the wife of MajorStanford. Let me hear the truth from your own lips. Eva, I have comehere, to this horrible, horrible country, because I knew you were here.I came here to see you--to learn from you why you were false to me; whyyou spurned my love--the deepest and truest man ever felt for woman--andthen to die."
He had thrown his cap, marked with the insignia of his rank and calling,into the grass at his feet; and the last rays of the sun, falling aslanton his rich, brown hair, made it bright and golden again, as Eva so wellremembered it.
"False!" she repeated, slowly, as though her tongue refused to frame theaccusation against him; "_you_ were false--not I. Or was it notdeceiving me--to tell me of your love; to promise faith and constancy tome while carrying on a flirtation--a correspondence with another woman?"
"You cannot believe that, Eva, any more than I could believe what AbbyHamilton told me--that you had left your aunt's house without telling meof it, purposely to avoid me and break every tie between us--till apackage, containing all my letters to you, was handed me the day wemarched from Fort Leavenworth."
"Those letters had been taken from my desk in my absence. But I hadintrusted Abby with a note for you, when I was called to my sister'sbedside. And, was it not Abby with whom you were seen riding?"
"Yes--to meet you at Mr. Redpath's farm; and I afterward sent you anote, through her, to which there came no answer save that package of myown letters."
"Why, then, did you go from me? Had you so little faith in me, so littlelove for me, that you could make no effort to see me? Was it so great atask to write me a few, short lines!"
"Then none of my letters have ever reached you? Oh, Eva, my darling--mylost one--can you not feel how my heart was wrung, how every drop ofblood was turned into a scorching tear, searing my brain and eating mylife away, when day after day passed, and no tidings came from you? Iwas on the point of deserting the command, of bringing ruin and disgraceon myself, when a brain fever put an end to my misery for the time, andI was carried to Fort Lyons, as they thought, only to be buried there.When I returned to Leavenworth on sick-leave, I was told you were gone,and your aunt took good care not to let me know where to find you. Shehad never liked me; but I could forgive her cruelty to me, did not yourwan face and weary eyes tell me that my darling girl has not found thehappiness I should have sacrificed my own to have purchased for her."
Eva bowed her face in her hands, and deep sobs seemed to rend her verysoul, but no word passed her lips.
"Then your life has been made a wreck, as well as my own, Eva?" hecontinued, wildly, almost fiercely. "Is it right that it should be so:that we should be robbed of all that makes life sweet and desirable, bythe wicked acts of others? Must we submit? Is it too late--"
"Too late," echoed Eva; "you forget that I am the wife of another. Wemust submit. Do not make the task harder for me than it is, Charlie;promise never, never to come to me again."
"I promise," he said, kneeling beside her, and bending over her hand."Here at your feet ends my wasted life; for I swear to you that I willnever go back into the world that lies beyond this camp. But if youbelieve now that I have been true to you and to my faith, then lay yourhand on my head once again, as you did years ago, before we partforever."
"Forever." For an instant the hand he had reverently kissed was laidlovingly on his soft, wavy hair; then Eva arose, leaving him with hisface buried in the damp grass, and the shades of night fast gatheringaround him.
An orderly with a letter for Mrs. Stanford had been waiting for sometime at the quarters. It was from Major Stanford.
"You went out with the major this morning, did you not, Tarleton?" sheasked of the man.
"Yes, madame; and the major sent me back with dispatches for CaptainManson, and this letter for you."
The major wrote: "Arroyos' opinion, after closely examining the tracksof the absconding Indians, is, that we had better wait forreinforcements before attacking their _rancheria_. Keep Marcelita inyour room. I know how timid you are. If you prefer to have a guardnearer to your quarters, send your compliments to Captain Manson--he hasmy instructions. We shall probably return to-morrow, by sundown. Tillthen, 'be of good cheer.'"
"There are more men to be sent out to-night?" asked Eva of thegray-headed soldier. She had always shown particular regard for thisman; so he answered more at length than he would have ventured to dounder other circumstances.
"Yes, madame; and I heard the men say down at the quarters, that the newlieutenant who came with the infantry was to take charge of the scout."
"Very well; tell Holly to give you a cup of tea and something to eat.Say to the major that I shall not be afraid to-night."
"Thank you, madame." And with a military salute, he retired.
Her husband's letter lay unheeded on the table, and Eva was still in thedark when Captain Manson entered the room, some time later. Marcelitabrought candles; and the captain, pointing to the letter, said:
"The major is very anxious that you should not feel the slightest fearto-night. I hope you have worded your answer so that he will not haveany uneasiness on your account."
"I sent word that I should not be afraid."
"Nevertheless, I shall place a sentinel near your quarters, if Ipossibly can. To tell the truth, Major Stanford has ordered out more menthan _I_ should ever have sent away from the post. If Arroyos was not soconfident that _all_ the red devils are engaged in that one direction, Ishould have advised the major to leave more men here. But you need haveno fears."
The sound of the bugle and the tramp of horses interrupted him.
"The command is going out; they will reach the major sometime during the night. Can't think what on earth brought thatyoungster--Addison--out here. Been anxious to go on an Indian scout,too, ever since he came: he'll cry 'enough' before he gets back, thistime, I'll warrant you. The clang of those cavalry trumpets is horrible,isn't it; cuts right through your head, don't it?"
Eva had dropped her hands almost as quickly as she had raised them toher temples; and with her face shaded from the light, she silentlylooked on the cavalcade that passed along under the mellow light of thenew moon.
She sat there long after the captain had left her; she sat there stillwhen the early moon had gone down, and Marcelita had closed the doorbefore resorting to her favorite seat on the floor, with her backagainst the wall, from where she watched her mistress with eyes growingsmaller and smaller, till they close
d at last. The wind had risen again,and was blowing fitfully around the corners of the _adobe_ buildings,causing the sentinel on his lonely beat to draw his cap firmer down onhis head. It was just such a gusty, blustering wind as would make thecry of the watchful guard appear to come from all sorts of impossibledirections, when "ten o'clock and all is well" was sung out. A dismalhowl, as though hundreds of _coyotes_ were taking up the refrain,answered the cry; and then the clamoring and yelping always followingthe first howl was carried farther and farther away till it died in thedistance.
Marcelita shook herself in her sleep. "Holy Virgin protect us, they arethe Indians," she muttered, with her eyes closed.
Eva had drawn her shawl closer around her; but neither the wild nightnor the doleful music had any terror for her; she only felt "her lifewas dreary," while listening to "the shrill winds that were up andaway."
Silence and darkness had once more settled on the camp; but the silencewas suddenly rent by fierce, unearthly sounds: yells and shrieks, suchas only hell, or its legitimate child, the savage Indian, could giveutterance to; shouts of triumph and exultation that made Eva's blood runcold with horror. Marcelita had started to her feet at the first sound,and was tearing her hair wildly, as she repeated, in a paroxysm ofterror, "The Indians, the Indians! Oh, saints of heaven, protect us?"The darkness was broken by little flashes of light, where the sentinels,some of them already in the death-struggle, were firing their muskets inwarning or in self-defence. A sharp knocking on the door, and voicesoutside, brought Eva there.
"Open, madame, quick: there is no time to be lost"--it was Holly'svoice--"they have attacked the men's quarters first, and we can reachhead-quarters and the adjutant's office from this side. It is the onlysafe place; but quick, quick." And between them--the man who had been onguard near the house and the faithful Holly--they almost dragged Evafrom the room, and hurried her into the darkness outside.
The elevation to which exalted rank of any kind raises us, is alwaysmore or less isolation from our fellow-beings. Major Stanford's, ascommanding officer's quarters, were some distance from those of theother officers, and the space that lay between them proved fatal toEva's safety.
Every single verde-bush seemed suddenly alive with yelling demons, whenthe little party had fairly left the shelter of the house behind them.
Holly had no arms, and the other soldier had been lanced through thebody; still Eva pursued her way, and could already distinguish Mr.Grumpet's voice cheering the small number of men on to resistance, whena whizzing sound passed close by her ear, and the next moment she foundher arms pinioned to her body by the lariat thrown over her head, andfelt herself dragged rapidly over the ground, till dexter hands caughtand lifted her on the back of a horse. Here she was held as in a vice,and carried away so swiftly that Marcelita's screams and Holly'scurses--heard for a moment above all the din and confusion of theimpromptu battle-field--soon died away in the distance, as her captorurged his animal to its utmost speed.
On dashed the horse; the angry winds tore her hair, and the spitefulthorns of the mesquite caught her flowing robes, and rudely tore herflesh till she bled from a thousand little wounds, but not a moan ormurmur escaped her lips. A merciful fit of unconsciousness at lastovertook her; and, when she awoke, she found herself on the ground, herwrists fettered by sharp thongs, that were cutting deep into thetender, white flesh. The first faint glimmer of light was breaking inthe East; and Eva could see that quite a number of Indians had met here,and were evidently in deep consultation on some subject of vastimportance; for even the savage who was cowering close beside her, asthough to watch her, was leaning forward to catch the conversation, withan intent and absorbed air.
They had made their way into the mountains, as the Apaches always doafter a successful raid; for the less agile horses of our cavalry cannotfollow their goat-like ponies on paths and trails known only to theIndians.
Perhaps Eva was even now lying among the rocks and bowlders that hadlooked down on her so frowningly yesterday at sunset; perhaps, even thenhad the foe into whose hands she had fallen marked her for his prey, ashe watched and counted--unobserved by the less keen eyes of his "whitebrethren"--all the chances for and against the success of a suddenonslaught.
From the little flat where they were halting, Eva could catch just oneglimpse of the country at the foot of the mountain; and from it shecould see--though the mist had not yet cleared away--that they must haveascended to a considerable height. Broken, jagged rocks inclosed them onall sides; a stunted tree or overgrown cactus, here and there, springinginto sight as the light grew in the east. A heavy dew had fallen, andEva was so chilled that she could not have made use of her hands, hadthey been unfettered. The watchful Indian had noticed the shiver thatran through her frame, and his eyes were fixed on her face, to discoverif consciousness had returned. But his eyes wandered from Eva's facedirectly, and travelled in the direction of the narrow trail by whichthey had come, winding around the wall of rock, behind which thedeliberating savages were seated in a circle, Indian fashion, theirlegs crossed. At a little distance could be seen their horses, nibblingthe scant grass the mountain afforded--and one of these, perhaps, hadloosened the little stone that rolled down the side of the mountain.
So the Indian mounting guard over Eva appeared to think at least, for heagain turned his attention to the proceedings of the council, whensuddenly there came the warning of their sentinel on the rock abovethem, and simultaneously the shout of "On them, my men! down with them!She is here! she is safe!"
Eva's guard uttered one yell before Lieutenant Addison's ball laid himin the dust; but a dozen arrows were already aimed at Charlie's heart.
"Eva!" he cried, "Eva, have courage; I am coming, I am near you!"
So near that she could see where the arrow had struck his side, and theblue coat was fast growing purple from the blood that followed where thearrow in its flight had made that ugly gash. So near that she couldrealize how desperate was the struggle between him and the half-naked,light-footed horde that disputed every step to Eva's side, literally atthe point of the lance.
But the soldiers were not far behind; and with the strength that comesonly of love or despair, the young man reached Eva's side at last. Shehad not fainted--much as my lady readers may upbraid her for thisomission of the proprieties--but held up her poor, fettered hands to himwith a look for which he would have laid down his life a thousand timesover.
"You are free!" he cried, loosening her fetters with trembling hands;"you are free! And if I have broken my promise--if I have come to youagain--I have come only to die at your feet."
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