GOING IN.
Lieutenant Parker had not much time to waste if he expected to be
before the commanding officer in half an hour, and he went about his
work as if he was thoroughly in earnest. He placed his horse in one of
the stalls, removed his saddle, gave him a good feed at the same time,
in order to “brace him up” for his long journey, and then proceeded to
rub him down. All the while he was thinking about his recent interview
with Carl, the Trailer, and promised himself that he would steer clear
of that subject in future.
“I’ll do that for you, sir,” said a voice near him.
Parker looked up, and saw Sergeant Leeds with his hand to his cap.
“I really wish you would,” said he, putting the brush into the
sergeant’s willing hand. “I’ve got just half an hour to get my supper
and present myself before the colonel, and I want the horse to go away
with me to-night.”
“Very well, sir. The horse will be ready.”
Parker hurried off, and in a few minutes was standing before the
washbowl in his own quarters. He wished to get a little of the dust of
travel off his hands and face, put on a clean shirt, and make himself
appear as neat as an officer should who expected to have an interview
with his general before he slept again. His room-mate had been on guard
duty the night before and was now making up for his loss of sleep;
but he heard Parker stepping about the room, and opened his eyes and
stretched his arms.
“Well, old fellow, I am glad to see you back,” said he. “Do you know I
have been worrying about you ever since yesterday morning?”
“About that war-party?” said Parker.
“They are the very fellows. They did not come about the fort, but some
of the scouts discovered them and reported to the colonel. That is what
made him send the captain out after you.”
“Well, I got away from them all right. I hope I shall be as lucky this
time.”
“This time!” repeated Randolph. “Why, where are you going?”
“I am going to Fort Yates.”
Randolph was utterly amazed to hear this. He threw off the blanket and
sat up on the bed.
“The colonel wants to send a report to General Miles, and is now adding
a word about this war-party I met,” continued Parker. “I’ve got to be
with him in half an hour.”
“You are going in command of a big escort, of course,” said Randolph,
angry at himself because he was so long neglected. “Perhaps I will get
a chance to go with you.”
“I don’t think you will this time. I am only going to take Carl, the
Trailer.”
“And no more?” said Randolph, who grew more and more amazed.
“He is all I asked for, and I believe I am going to get him.”
“Well, when you get ready to start come in and let me bid you
good-by,” said Lieutenant Randolph, again stretching himself on the
bed. “I will never see you dressing in this room again.”
“Our biggest scouts take no more with them than that,” said Parker.
“They want somebody with them if they get into trouble, but they don’t
want a large party for fear that they cannot conceal themselves.”
“Who is talking about concealing a party?” asked Randolph in disgust.
“You had better not let the colonel know that.”
“He knows it already.”
“And did he agree to it?”
“He raised no objections to it, but told me to come back in half an
hour. I tell you I had better go on, for twenty minutes of my time
is gone already. Good-by, Rand. I hope I shall see you again within
forty-eight hours.”
This was too much for Randolph. He got upon his feet and shook his
companion’s hand as though he never expected to see him again. Then he
opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but no sound
came forth. He turned and threw himself upon the bed again.
“I declare, I hope that everybody won’t act that way,” said Lieutenant
Parker, as, with a face that had lost considerable of its confidence,
he took rapid steps toward his mess-room. “The first thing I know I
shall begin to behave that way myself.”
When Parker entered the mess-room he summoned the cook, and found
that all that was left for him was what remained of what the officers
had had for dinner. “If Lieutenant Parker could only wait for a few
minutes”—but Lieutenant Parker could not wait for even one minute. He
had an order from the commanding officer which must be fulfilled to the
letter; so the cook began to bestir himself, and in a short time a very
good meal was placed before him. He ate with his watch open beside him,
so that he could cast his eyes upon it with every mouthful he took,
and at precisely the time agreed upon he jumped up and started for the
door. As he stepped down off the threshold, the first one he saw was
Carl, the Trailer. The savage scowl had left his face and he looked
just as he did during their hunt.
“You are on hand, I see,” said Lieutenant Parker. “Come on; we have not
a single instant to lose.”
The young officer took his way toward the colonel’s headquarters, and
found him in the act of sealing an envelope which he was going to send
to General Miles. He simply nodded when the boys came in and then went
on addressing it; and when he had got that done he settled back in his
chair, struck a match to his pipe, which had gone out, and looked at
them for several minutes without speaking. Finally he said:
“Preston, are you sure that you want to go to Fort Yates in company
with Lieutenant Parker?”
“Why, colonel, I don’t see anything wrong about him,” said the guide.
“We will get the dispatches into the hands of the general in due time,
but how soon you will get the letters he sends in return I don’t know.”
“Ah! that’s just what I am afraid of,” said the colonel uneasily. “You
are afraid there will be somebody there to watch you when you come out.”
Carl, the Trailer, said that that was what he was afraid of.
“Well, I don’t know as it makes much difference to me what he sends in
return,” said the colonel, after gazing abstractedly at his table for a
few minutes. “He will have to send them down by his own scouts. If you
can get into the fort, it is all I ask for. If you are all ready you
can go. I shall expect you back here in three days.”
Lieutenant Parker wanted to tell his colonel that if he did not see
them by that time day after to-morrow he would not see them at all, but
he thought he would wait and let his actions speak for him. Parker took
the papers which the colonel handed him and put them into the pocket of
his coat, which he buttoned up; and after shaking him by the hand and
listening to his words of encouragement and advice, the boys went out.
There were many around the gate to see them off, for Lieutenant Parker
had never gone on an errand like this before, and when the boys mounted
their horses and rode out of the stables, caps were lifted all around
them. Randolph was there, for he could not stand idly by and let his
companion go off on that dangerous mission without another word to him.
“Good-by, old fellow,” said he, pressing up close to Parker, so that he
could take his hand. “Remember that I shall look for you by day after
to-morrow.”
“I will be on hand,” exclaimed Parker, with a sweeping salute to all
the rest of them who had gathered around. “If the horses hold out I
shall certainly be here.”
“That fellow acted as though he was not going to see you any more,”
said Carl, when they had left the fort behind them. “I don’t see
the use of their making so much fuss over our going. I have been to
Standing Rock Agency half a dozen times since this trouble began, and
have always got back safe.”
“Well, it had no effect upon me except to make me all the more
determined to come back,” said Parker. “The colonel said that if we
could get into the fort it was all he asked for. Now, what does he mean
by that?”
“It means that some things have happened that are going to put us
in more danger than we supposed,” said Carl. “To my mind there is
something up.”
“You think the dance has got farther along than we know anything
about?” said Parker.
“It must be that. The Sioux are determined that no one shall cross
their reservation. But the first thing we have to do is to get those
papers you have in your pocket into the hands of General Miles. We will
wait until we see how the matter looks then.”
This was a long time to wait. Lieutenant Parker was anxious that
something should be done at once; but Carl kept his horse in a fast
walk all the way—sometimes, when he got tired of that, letting him trot
for a short distance, and Parker was obliged to keep pace with him.
“Don’t be in too big a hurry,” said the guide, who saw that Lieutenant
Parker was slyly pricking his horse with the spur to make him go
faster. “Let them go easy now, and save their speed for by and by.”
The guide relapsed into silence, but at the same time his eyes were
busy. He kept a close watch over the summit of the neighboring swells
to make sure that they had not been seen by some of Sitting Bull’s
couriers, who were on the lookout for them to find out where they
went. As soon as they found out that the guide and his companion were
headed toward Fort Yates they would get ahead of them, and so post the
Sioux in regard to their coming. Grand River, which lay immediately
across their path, was the permanent camp of the Sioux. Beginning on
the right, at the mouth of the river, there was Antelope’s camp, Grand
River school, Sitting Bull’s camp, Bull Head’s camp, Pretty Bird’s
camp, and Spotted Horse’s camp; and by going farther up the river there
was Thunder Hawk’s camp. It did not seem possible that they could get
through there without being seen by somebody. And these camps extended
for seventy-five miles along the course of the river. Of course
Lieutenant Parker did not know this, but the guide did; and, while he
kept his gaze wandering over the tops of the hills, he was thinking up
some plan by which he might cross the river, get through their lines,
and take the trail of fifty miles to the fort. The Grand River school
seemed to him to be the best place.
“I wish I knew just what is going on in that camp,” said he, after
thinking the matter all over. “Kicking Bull has come up here from the
Cheyenne reservation to teach Sitting Bull’s followers the dance, and I
would really like to know if he is at it to-night. If he is, we can get
across the river anywhere; but if he is not engaged in teaching them,
the different camps will be full of Indians, and we shall be seen as
surely as we come out of the water. Don’t you wish you had stayed at
home?”
“That is a pretty question for you to ask,” returned Lieutenant Parker
indignantly. “Somebody has got to do it, and I don’t see why I can’t.”
The guide relapsed into silence again, and for long hours neither
of them said a word. Nothing was heard except the faint swishing of
the buffalo grass as the horses brushed it aside with their legs, and
the faint tread of the animals’ feet upon the sand. Finally the guide
allowed his horse to gallop, and that was a great relief to Lieutenant
Parker’s feelings. And one thing which surprised Parker was the ease
with which Carl’s horse kept up. No matter how fast he went he was
always within Parker’s reach. Thus walking and galloping by turns, the
hours passed away much sooner than Parker had thought possible, and
finally, to his immense satisfaction, the guide pulled up his horse and
began to look about him.
“There ought to be a school-house over there,” said he.
“Why, are we at the river?” asked Parker.
“It is only about twenty feet ahead of you. Do you hear any yells
anywhere?”
“Nothing but the coyotes.”
The guide listened a moment, and then turned his horse and rode down
the stream, Lieutenant Parker keeping close at his heels. Presently he
turned again and rode down the bank, and then there was the splashing
of water beneath his horse’s hoofs. The ford was a shallow one, and
how Carl had struck it in that darkness was a marvel. It continued
for perhaps five minutes, and then Parker felt himself mounting the
opposite bank. He stopped his horse when his guide did and listened
intently, but he heard no sound of any kind.
“Now, sir, you may go as fast as you please,” said Carl.
“How far is the fort from here?”
“About fifty miles.”
“But the Sioux will hear us.”
“No, they won’t. They are off somewhere attending that Ghost Dance.”
Lieutenant Parker waited to hear no more. If his guide thought it safe
to go with the full speed of their horses it was nothing to him. He
drew up on the reins, touched his horse with his spurs, and went away
like the wind.