At the word "fire" Jennie turned white and rose. Elsie came flying
down-stairs, crying:
"The Indians are running!"
A wild shout arose, "Stop that bell!" and a moment later Wilson burst in
at the door--"Major, the Indians are signalling from the
buttes--everybody is taking to the hills--the mob is coming."
Curtis gave Elsie one piercing look. "I hope you will trust me; you are
in no danger, even if this alarm is true. I think it is a mistake. I
will return soon and let you know. I beg you not to be alarmed."
The alarum was true. On the buttes horsemen were riding to and fro
excitedly crossing and recrossing the same ground--the sign which means
an approaching enemy. On every hill-side mounted warriors were gathering
and circling. Boys with wild halloos were bringing in the ponies. The
women busy, swarming like bees, were dropping the tepees; even as the
agent mounted the steps to the office and looked up the valley, the
white canvases sank to the ground one by one as though melted by the hot
sun. War times were come again, and the chanting cries of the old women
came pulsing by on the soft west wind.
A grim smile settled on the agent's lips as he comprehended these
preparations. He knew the history of these people and admired them for
their skill and their bravery. War times were come again!
"Our cowboy friends have set themselves a memorable task in trying to
wipe out this tribe. The ranchers never fight their own battles; they
always call upon the federal government; and that is their purpose now,
to stir up strife and leave the troops to bear the burden of the war."
"I don't see our fellers," said the sheriff, who was deeply excited.
"I'll ride to meet them."
"They are a long way off yet," said Curtis. "The Tetong sentinels have
only signalled their start. I hope the troops are on the way," he said
to the two girls who had followed and now stood close beside him as if
for protection. Then he called to the sheriff, who had started for his
horse: "I depend on you to keep off this invasion, sheriff. I warn you
and your men that this entrance here at this time is a crime against
Washington."
Winters did not reply, and Curtis knew that he would join the majority;
being a candidate for re-election, he could not afford to run counter to
the wishes of his constituents. Hastily mounting his horse, he galloped
furiously away.
Curtis strained his eyes down the valley, hoping for a sight of the
guidons of the --th.
"What can you do?" asked Elsie.
"Nothing but await the issue," he replied. "I have sent another courier
to hasten the troops; it is now a race between the forces of law and of
order. If the mob arrives first, I must delay them--prevent their
advance if possible. There is nothing else to be done."
"Can we help?"
"I'm afraid not. There will be two or three hundred of the invaders this
time, if the sheriff is to be believed. I am afraid to have you meet
them. I think it better for you all to keep within doors."
"I wish my father knew--he could stop this!" wailed Elsie, in sudden
realization of her helplessness. "He could wire the authorities in Pinon
City. I know they would listen to him."
"Here come the Parkers!" said Jennie. "Now look out for squalls."
"I had forgotten them," said Curtis, with a comic look of dismay.
Parker was running, half dragging his poor, breathless wife, while in
their rear Lawson appeared, walking calmly, quite irreproachable in a
gray morning suit, and the sight of him was a comfort to Curtis, for his
forces were practically reduced to Wilson and four or five clerks.
"Now, Captain, what are you going to do?" called Parker. "You let us
into this--"
Being in no mood for squalls, Curtis cut Parker short. "Be quiet; don't
be uselessly foolish. Try and conduct yourself like a reasonable human
being. Jennie, go into the house, and take the ladies with you. You'll
have all the women of the agency to look after in a few minutes. Lawson,
I can depend on you--will you go over to the office with me?"
When they reached the office Lawson threw back his coat and displayed
two wicked-looking revolvers. "I've been known to fight when pushed too
far," he said, smilingly.
In the space of an hour the panic had become preparation. On a low butte
to the southwest a dark mass of armed and resolute warriors waited on
their swift ponies ready for whatever came, while behind them on a
higher ridge a smaller group of dismounted chieftains sat in council. Up
the slopes below and to the right the women and old men were leading the
ponies, laden with their tepees, children, and supplies, precisely as in
the olden times. The wagons of the white men were of no use where they
were now climbing. The ways of the wheel were no longer desirable. They
sought the shelter of the trail.
"I am confident that the troops will arrive first," said Curtis.
"If the powers of evil have found a leader, it will be hard to control
them even with a troop of cavalry," Lawson replied, soberly. "The
sheriff will go with the mob when it comes to a show down."
"Oh, of course. I do not count on him; but Calvin is loyal."
Before the office stood two or three of the white employes of the agency
with their wives and children about them. Two policemen alone remained
of all the throng of red employes usually to be seen about the yards;
the rest were out on duty or had joined their people in the hills.
"What shall we do?" cried Miss Colson, a look of mortal terror on her
face. She crowded close to Curtis and laid her hands on his arm. "Let us
stay near you."
"You are in no danger," he replied. "Those poor devils on the hill-side
are the ones who will suffer. Where are your children?" he asked,
sharply.
"They all disappeared like rabbits at sound of the bell; only the
kindergarten class remains."
"Go and help take care of them," he commanded. "Sing to them--amuse
them. Wolf Robe," he called to one of the policemen--he of the
bow-legs--"go to the people on the hill and say to them to fear nothing,
Washington protects them. Tell them they must not fight. Say to the
mothers of the little ones that nothing shall hurt them. Go quick!"
Wolf Robe handed his sombrero, his coat, and his revolver to his
friend, Beaver Kill, and ran away towards the corral, agile as a boy.
"What did he do that for?" asked Jennie.
Curtis smiled. "He is Indian now; he doesn't want to be mistaken for a
cowboy."
When he reappeared on his pony, his long, dark hair streaming, a red
handkerchief bound about his head, he looked like a warrior stripped for
battle. "There isn't a faithfuler man in the world," said Curtis, and a
lump rose in his throat. "He has been riding half the night for me, but
he charges that hill as if he were playing a game."
"I don't understand how you can trust them to do such things," said
Elsie. "Perhaps he will not come back. How do you know he will do as you
commanded?"
"Because that ugly little bow-legged Tetong is a man!" replied Curtis.
"He would die in performance of his duty." And something in his voice
made the tears start to Elsie's eyes.
The sentinels on the hills were quiet now--facing the northeast,
motionless as weather-vanes. The camps had disappeared as if by magic;
nothing remained but a few wagons. Wolf Robe, diminishing to the value
of a coyote, was riding straight towards the retreating women. Even as
Curtis watched, the chieftains on the higher hill rose, and one of them
started downward towards the warriors on the rounded hill-top. Then a
small squad detached itself from the main command and slid down the
grassy slope to meet the women. As they rode slowly on, the moving
figures of those leading the camp horses gathered round them. Curtis
understood some command was being shouted by the descending squad.
Separating themselves from the led ponies, these scouts swept on down
the hill directly upon the solitary and minute figure of Wolf Robe,
whose pony climbed slowly and in zigzag course.
"They will kill him," said a woman.
Wolf Robe halted and waited till the skirmishers rode up to him. They
massed round him closely, listening while he delivered his message.
"When he returns we will know all that his people have learned of the
invaders," said Curtis. "They will tell him what they have seen."
"It is strange," exclaimed Elsie, in a low voice, standing close beside
him. "But I'm not afraid. It is like a story--a dream. That I should
stand here watching Indians preparing for war and waiting for United
States troops is incredible."
"I wish it were not true," he replied. "But it is. I have no fear of my
people, only of the rash act of a vicious white man."
"Which way will the cattlemen come from?" asked Jennie.
"Probably down that trail." He pointed to the northeast. "Part of them
may come up the valley road. Wolf Robe has started on his return."
The little squad of warriors returned to the group of chieftains, while
the loyal Wolf Robe came racing down the slope, his hair streaming, his
elbows flapping. In a few minutes he dropped rein at the gate and
re-entered the yard. Standing before his chief, he delivered his
message.
"Their hearts are very glad at your good words, but the women are
crying for their babies. They ask that you send them away before the bad
white men come. Send them out towards the hills and they will come down
and get them--this they said."
"What did the scouts say?"
"They said that the sentinels on the hills saw the white men break camp
and come this way--many of them--so they say."
"Where are they now?"
"They are hidden in the pines of the valley. They will soon be here--so
they say."
"Take a fresh pony and ride back and tell all who have children here to
come down and talk with me. Tell them I will turn the white men away. No
one shall be harmed. The children are safe. There will be no war. I will
meet them in the old camp. I keep repeating there is no danger because I
believe it," he said to the silent group around him, after Wolf Robe
rode away. "There is nothing to be done but wait. So go about your
duties," he added, with a note of command.
One by one the employes dropped away till only Wilson remained. His only
sign of nervousness was a quiver of the muscles of one cheek, where he
held his quid of tobacco. His bright blue eyes were fixed on the
sentinels, while he leaned negligently against the fence. Lawson,
smoking a German pipe, was watching the warriors on the hills, a rapt
expression on his face, as if he were working out some problem in ethics
which demanded complete concentration and absorption of thought. The two
girls had drawn close together as if for comfort, their nerves a-quiver
with the strain.
"Are you waiting for something to go off?" suddenly asked Curtis.
Each one started a little, and all laughed together.
"I think I was," confessed Elsie.
"You seemed to be holding your breath. I wish you'd both go in and
rest," he pleaded. "It is no use--"
"They're coming!" interrupted Lawson.
"Where? Where?"
"The sentinels are signalling again."
All turned to the east, but nothing could be seen--no smoke, no dust, no
sign of horsemen--yet the swift circling of the sentinels and the
turmoil among the warriors on the butte indicated the menace of an
approaching army. Another little band detached itself from the huddle of
the camp and came down the hill, slowly and in single file.
"The squaws are coming for their children, even before Wolf Robe reaches
them," said Lawson.
"And there's the mob!" said Curtis, and at his words a keen thrill of
fear ran through the hearts of the women. With set, pale faces they
looked away beneath levelled finger.
"That's right," said Wilson, "and two hundred strong."
The sad-colored horsemen were pouring over a high, pine-clad ridge some
two miles to the east, and streaming down into a narrow valley behind a
sharp intervening butte.
"Now, girls, you _must_ go in!" commanded Curtis, sharply. "You can do
no good--"
"George, let us stay!" pleaded Jennie. "We saved you yesterday, and we
may help to-day."
"What is the use of shutting us in the house? I'm not afraid," added
Elsie. "These men will do us no harm."
"I beg you will not interfere," he said, looking at Jennie, but Elsie
knew he included her as well. "It isn't a bit impressive to have an
agent flanked with women--in a council of war."
"Hang the looks! they're mighty effective sometimes," remarked Lawson.
"That's right!" chimed in Wilson. "By the Lord! they look sassy," he
added, referring back to the cowboys.
They formed a sinister cavalcade as they came streaming down the rough
road, two and two, like a monstrous swift serpent, parti-colored,
sinuous, silent, save for the muffled clatter of their horses' hoofs.
Curtis nerved himself for the shock, and, though weakened and
embarrassed by the presence of Elsie and Jennie, he presented a
soldierly breast to the mob. Had it been a question of protecting the
women, the case would have been different, but to argue a point of law
with them at his elbow exposed him to ridicule and to interruption.
As the horsemen debouched upon the valley road, a prodigious cloud of
dust arose and sailed away on the wind, completely hiding the rear ranks
so that they could not be numbered. As they drew near, the sheriff could
be seen riding at the head of the column side by side with a big man in
a blue shirt. They approached at a shacking trot, which was more
menacing than a gallop would have been--it was steady, inexorable,
self-contained as a charge of cavalry.
As they reached the issue-house, Curtis opened the gate and stepped out
into the road and faced them alone, and Elsie grew cold with fear as the
sheriff and his formidable following rode steadily up. When almost upon
the agent the leader turned, and, pushing his limp hat away from his
eyes, shouted:
"_Halt!_" As the men pulled in their horses he added, "Keep back there!"
The mob had found a leader, and was organized for violence. Curtis, with
folded arms, seemed small and weak as the army of invasion came to a
stand, filling the lane between the office and the agency house with
trampling horses and cursing men.
"Good-morning," growled the leader, surlily. "We're come for old Elk,
and I want to say we get him this time. No monkey business goes with old
Bill Yarpe. Women can't fool me."
Calvin Streeter rode out of the throng and pushed his way to the front.