THE FLANK MOVEMENT.
It was singular that the youngest member of the cattlemen should make an
important discovery, which not only escaped them, but, as subsequent
events proved, was not noticed, or at least did not receive due
attention from the Comanches themselves.
Avon Burnet, from his place on the crest of elevation, was watching the
interview between Gleeson and the two red men, when he awoke to the fact
that the ridge joined and formed a part of the hills among which the
Comanches had taken refuge. That is to say, one had only to follow the
former to reach the broken swell containing the warriors and their
prisoner.
If such a ride were made along the right slope, the person must be in
plain sight of the Indians; if along the crest, he would be visible to
those on the right and left, and, if along the left slope, the cowboys
could see him while he would not be perceived by the red men themselves,
unless they were on the watch.
These facts were apparent to Avon at the first sweeping glance he cast
to the eastward. He wondered that they escaped the notice of his
friends, but this was probably due to their attention being diverted for
the time by the cattle, and because, too, of their disposition to wait
the report of Gleeson before deciding upon their course of action.
The thought instantly came to Avon that if the cowboys would make a
sudden break along the base of the slope to the left, they could reach
the rear of the Comanches, always provided the latter had taken no
precautions against such a flank movement. The plan of campaign was so
inviting that he could hardly believe it had been overlooked by the red
men. At any rate, before urging his friends to adopt it, he decided to
make a little investigation on his own account, especially as he
believed sufficient time was at command.
Riding, therefore, to the bottom of the slope, he spurred Thunderbolt
to a sharp gait, and quickly covered the intervening space, which was
hardly a fourth of a mile. His mustang showed no ill effects from the
slight wounds received during the sharp scrimmage some time before.
Avon was well aware of the risk he ran, for, if the Comanches were
maintaining guard, they could readily pick him off before he could
withdraw or adopt the least precaution, but he did not hesitate. When
the ground became more broken, he urged his pony a short way among the
hills, and then dismounted. He did this, because he wished to hold his
line of retreat open. The way behind him was clear, whereas, if he took
his horse further, the course would become so obstructed that he could
not mount and dash out upon the plain if it became necessary.
He expected to make a long and tedious search, with the probable result
of failure, so far as helping his relative was concerned, and with the
certainty of great danger to himself, but events moved along with a
rush, before he could anticipate them.
Convinced that he was to the rear of the main party, he advanced with
the utmost care. The hills were no more than a hundred feet high at
their greatest elevation, and were broken by gullies, ravines, and
trails that appeared to have been partly made by the feet of animals,
greatly helped by the washing of the severe storms which often sweep
over that section.
The youth had penetrated barely a hundred yards from the point where he
left his mustang, and was picking his way cautiously forward, when he
was startled by hearing voices. The words were too low for him to
distinguish them, but he instantly stopped with his Winchester ready for
use. A collision seemed unavoidable, since there was no means of
concealing himself except by turning about and running back, and that
could hardly avail him.
The next minute he was face to face with Shackaye, the young Comanche
that was the cause of all the trouble. The fellow was as much startled
as he, and stopping short, partly raised his gun, as if to defend
himself.
Before, however, either could speak or make any movements, Avon was
astounded to catch sight of his uncle, Captain Shirril, walking slowly
and evidently in pain, close behind him along the narrow path. The
instant he descried his nephew, he raised his hand as a signal for him
to do nothing.
"It's all right," he said, in a guarded voice; "Shackaye is our friend,
though he hasn't been until now."
"How is this?" asked the youth, motionless and undecided whether to
advance or retreat.
The broad face of the dusky youth expanded with a slight grin, and he
replied:
"Shackaye fall on ground--Baby shoot steer--Shackaye tell warriors Baby
dead--leaving him alone--bringing way captain--den Shackaye show captain
way home--must hurry--Comanche come!"
"Have you a horse with you?" asked Captain Shirril, crowding forward,
impatient to improve the precious moments.
"Yes; follow me."
The prisoner had been deprived of all his weapons, and was suffering
from the severe hurts received, but he roused himself and moved forward
at a brisk walk, Avon taking the lead, with the young Indian close
behind him and the captain at his heels.
Very few minutes were required to pass over the intervening space, but
while doing so Captain Shirril made clear several facts which needed
explanation. To these may be added others that came to light afterward.
As has been intimated elsewhere, the suspicions of Gleeson regarding
Shackaye were correct. He had joined the cattlemen for the purpose of
helping Wygwind and his band to despoil them. He was unable to do this
at the time the cabin was attacked, and therefore kept in the background
until the present opportunity presented itself. The intention of the
Comanches, as first formed, was to stampede the animals on some
favorable night, and thus secure possession of a large number; but there
was great risk in the attempt, since the cowboys were watchful, and the
cattle being branded, it would have been almost impossible for the
thieves to dispose of them, even if able to run them beyond reach of
their owners. The Great Cattle Trail is about a hundred yards in width,
with smaller paths weaving in and out along the edges, all so distinctly
marked that no one can go astray, unless the path is temporarily
obliterated by snow. The diversion of a considerable number of cattle
would leave footprints that could be readily followed, and Captain Dohm
Shirril was not the man to submit to such despoilment, so long as there
remained the possibility of preventing it.
The Comanches, however, in the vicinity of the herd kept track of all
its movements. The cunning Shackaye succeeded in holding occasional
communication with them, and learned of their change of plan. It was
decided to make the captain prisoner on the first opportunity, and hold
him for ransom.
Since it was his practice to take his nephew with him on almost every
excursion he made from camp, Shackaye conceived it necessary to the
success of the plot that Avon should be put out of the way. It has been
shown that he made the attempt on the preceding night and came within a
hair of success. It was characteristic of his race that the atrocious
crime was undertaken by him as a matter of course.
The very chance for which Wygwind and his band were waiting came that
morning when Captain Shirril, his nephew, and Shackaye set out to hunt
the estray cattle. While Avon was engaged in conquering the troublesome
steer, with the captain attentively watching him, Shackaye remounted his
horse, from which he had been thrown, and made all haste to the hills.
Wygwind and his warriors were ready, and indeed met him on his way
thither. He took no part in the fight, but watched it from his refuge.
When the last desperate struggle took place he spurred forward and
joined the assailants.
The intention of the Comanches had been to shoot down Avon, but to spare
his uncle, and it was curious that the very opposite result was
effected. It was impossible that Captain Shirril should escape in the
mêlée, though his foes meant only to shoot down the horses and slay his
companion.
Shackaye arrived at the critical moment, when the helpless leader was
being lifted upon the horse of Wygwind in front of him, and Avon lay
senseless beneath the body of the mustang. The fact that Thunderbolt was
still lying on the ground bleeding from his two flesh wounds led to the
belief that he was mortally hurt, and no effort, therefore, was made to
take him away.
Despite the savage nature of Shackaye, a feeling of gratitude had been
roused within him by the act of Avon in saving him from the enraged
steer. Whether the white youth was already dead or not he did not know,
but he interposed a vigorous plea that no further harm should be done
him. He had performed his own part so well that his prayers had some
effect, while the necessity for urgent haste in leaving before the
arrival of the cowboys, who were coming over the ridge, led to the
flight of the whole party of Comanches without harming a hair of his
head.
It will be readily understood that none of the warriors could hold any
suspicion of Shackaye's loyalty toward them and their interests. When,
therefore, the time came for the opening of the negotiations with the
cowboys, the wounded and unarmed captain was left in charge of Shackaye,
while the others went forward and maintained their places within reach
of Wygwind and Richita, during their interview with Gleeson. This was
simply prudence on their part, since they knew there was the best reason
for believing the whites would instantly seize any advantage offered
them.
Captain Shirril now did an exceedingly clever thing. He saw it was
useless to appeal to Shackaye's kindly feelings toward himself, but he
had noticed his vigorous efforts to save his nephew from harm, when he
lay senseless under the body of the mustang. He saw that, despite the
villainous nature of the youth, he entertained a strong regard for Avon,
and upon that regard he wrought, by representing the sorrow that would
come to him, if his uncle suffered further. He knew his heart would be
broken and he could never, never recover from his woe.
To Shackaye's reply that the chief Wygwind meant to allow the friends
of the prisoner to buy him back, Captain Shirril dwelt upon the
impossibility of such a thing. He pressed his view of the case with such
vigor that Shackaye, influenced alone by his gratitude to Avon, agreed
to conduct the captain out of the hills, where he could make his way to
camp undetected, provided the interview between Wygwind and the Texan
was not ended in time for the Comanches to discover what had been done.
It need not be said that Captain Shirril seized the opportunity thus
offered, and began limping forward, behind his guide, who encountered
Avon Burnet a few minutes later.
The expectation was that Shackaye would return to camp with his two
friends, since he would be assured of good treatment despite his former
unfaithfulness, and especially since it was unsafe for him to remain
among those to whom he could never justify his course of action. But
after the captain was assisted on the back of Thunderbolt, and his
nephew took his place, so as to help him in keeping his seat, the young
Comanche obstinately refused.
They tarried to urge him to save his life by such a course, but he ended
the argument by abruptly turning about and hurrying along the path,
where he speedily vanished.
"There's no use of waiting," said the captain, starting Thunderbolt
forward; "I can't understand his obduracy."
"He must be afraid of our men."
"But he knows the danger is a thousandfold greater among his own
people--hark!"
The sharp report of a rifle rang among the hills behind them,
accompanied by a wild cry of mortal pain.
"He has paid with his life for his friendship!" whispered the captain,
instantly spurring up Thunderbolt to a dead run.
Such was the truth. Shackaye could offer no excuse for what he had done,
nor did he attempt to do so. His act was discovered sooner than he
anticipated, and he died at the hands of the infuriated chieftain
Wygwind, before those whom he had saved were beyond reach of the sound
which told of the completion of the tragedy.
The Comanches attempted pursuit, but the start obtained by the
fugitives, brief as it was, sufficed, and they had not ridden far when
they met the whole band of cowboys galloping to their defence. Gleeson
and his comrades would have been glad had the red men ventured out upon
the plain beyond the shelter of the hills, but Wygwind and his warriors
were too wise to do so.
THE END.
No. 2 of the Forest and Prairie Series will be "The Path in the Ravine."
Transcriber's Notes:
Archaic and variable spelling, as well as inconsistency in hyphenation,
has been preserved as printed in the original book except as indicated
in the list below.
One missing punctuation mark was silently corrected, however,
punctuation has not been changed to comply with modern conventions. The
author's tribe names and spellings, such as Navajoe and Kioway, have
been retained.
The subtitle for Chapter XXXI in the original text is slightly different
from the Table of Contents and has been retained.
A List of Illustrations was added.
Passages in italics indicated by _underscores_.
Passages in bold indicated by =equal signs=.
The following changes were made to the text.
Page 68: Was "were" in original text (and if the youth stayed =where=
he was he must be trampled by the mustang)
Page 89: Was "as as" in original text (Your fut isn't =as= promisc'us
as mine)
Page 133: Was "Shirrill" in original text (Supposing the dusky foe was
coming for him, Captain =Shirril= rose to a half-sitting
position)
Page 174: Was "tnrning" in original text (upon whose backs they
vaulted, and then, =turning= their heads toward the mesquite
bush)
Page 240: Was "left" in original text (the steed was thundering out of
sight in the darkness, but he =let= fly three times in rapid
succession)
Page 269: Was "Shirrel" in original text ("How are you making out,
Baby?" asked Captain =Shirril=)
End of Project Gutenberg's The Great Cattle Trail, by Edward S. Ellis