AN INVITATION
Guy Preston was sorely perplexed by this order. He was not aware that
he had done anything to be reported to the Adjutant, and besides that
officer was not a member of his company. He had not been invited to sit
down as was generally the case with officers who came there to see the
Colonel on business, but stood twirling his cap in his hand; and every
time he raised his eyes to the Colonel's face he saw that the officer
was still regarding him behind his eyeglasses as if he meant to look
him through.
"Are you aware that the Sioux are very hostile, and have you any idea
what they will do if they capture you?" said the Colonel, breaking the
silence at last.
"But they will not capture me, sir," answered Guy. "I shall go on
horseback, and the Indian pony does not live which can beat Tom."
"I don't suppose that a bullet or an arrow could stretch your Tom out
dead while you were running away from them?" said the Colonel.
"Yes, sir, I suppose they can do that, but they would not take me
alive, all the same."
Guy finished the sentence by putting his hand into his hip pocket and
drawing forth a Derringer which he showed to the Colonel.
"Humph!" said the officer. "You would shoot yourself before you would
be taken prisoner? Well, I don't know but that is the right thing to
do."
At this moment the First Lieutenant who acted as Adjutant came into the
room. He listened with surprise when his officer made him acquainted
with the request that Guy Preston had brought in to him, adding:--
"You have your report for this quarter all made out?"
The Adjutant replied that he had.
"Well, I shall want you to make out an entry in your 'Remarks' in
regard to Lieutenant Preston," said the Colonel. "You will simply
say: 'Requested permission to go out in the face of the Sioux for
the purpose of shooting some sage hens. Granted. He was shot down
and killed by the Sioux in plain view of the Fort.' You may go," he
continued, walking up and taking Preston by the hand. "I never expect
to see you again."
"Th--thank you, sir," replied the Lieutenant, who was confounded by the
way his request was granted. "I will surely be back in the course of an
hour or two."
When Guy had left the room, the Colonel's face relaxed, and filling up
his pipe he settled himself for a smoke.
"I do not think he will go," said the Adjutant with a laugh. "I know I
would not stir a peg after I had received such a permission as that."
"Keep an eye on him," said the Colonel, "and if you see him mount his
horse, just step up and tell him not to go out of sight of the Fort. I
do not blame these boys for getting impatient, I want to do something
myself, but I don't know what it is."
"Halloo, Preston, where are you going now?" exclaimed one of his
roommates, as he entered his apartment and began to overhaul his
hunting rig. "A shotgun! You are not going outside!"
"The Colonel told me to go," answered Preston. "He called them sage
hens, but I believe they are prairie chickens."
"And you are going outside to shoot them, and the Sioux all around
you?" cried the young officer, throwing down his book and raising
himself to a sitting posture on his bunk. "Guy, you are crazy."
"I guess that is what the Colonel seemed to think; but he told me to
go, and said he never expected to meet me again. He is going to bluff
me, but he will find that I am not that sort."
Guy then went on to tell Perkins how the request was received and the
way it was granted, to all of which he listened in amazement. As soon
as he began to get it through his head, he implored his roommate to let
the permission go by default; the Colonel did not expect him to go; he
knew how perilous the undertaking was, and he hoped, by drawing it in
its true colors, to make Preston see it also; but Preston did not see
it in that way.
"He did not go at it right," said he. "He took the very course to make
me go out there. If he is going to find out how brave I am, he will
certainly find it out."
"You are a fool," declared Perkins hotly. "I never expect to see you
again either. When I shake you by the hand at the gate it will be the
last time until I see you brought in for good."
Guy Preston began to see at last that he was about to do something
at which many a better man and braver than he ever dared be would
hesitate. It might be that "every little tuft of grass concealed a
Sioux warrior," and an arrow or a bullet sped when he was not looking
for it would put an end to his redoubtable thoroughbred and leave
him at the mercy of the Indians who had beleaguered the Fort; but he
had his loaded Derringer in his pocket, and he was sure that with it
he could escape the barbarities they would inflict upon him. He took
his double barrel out of its case, and bade Perkins good-by; but that
worthy did not notice him at all. He got up and accompanied Preston
to the stables, saw him saddle his horse and lead him to the gate. He
found the Adjutant there waiting to pass the orders the Colonel had
last given him, and he seemed more surprised than ever to learn that
the young officer was still bent on going outside; but he said, as if
he were giving ordinary instructions to one who had a simple duty to
perform:--
"Do you see those hills about a mile and a half off? Well, keep inside
of them. If you go over them, we shall give you up. Look out for an
ambuscade."
"Now will you bid me good-by, Perkins?" said Guy, extending his hand.
"Oh, you need not be so particular about giving it a brotherly clasp.
I will see you again in two or three hours, and I shall have a lot of
prairie chickens to show you. Good-by everybody."
"I am really surprised at the Colonel," said Perkins, as he stood by
the Adjutant's side and watched his comrade as he galloped away. "He
should have refused him point-blank."
"The Colonel is sorry enough for it now when it is too late," said
the officer. "He supposed, of course, when the boy found out how much
danger there was in his undertaking that he would give it up; but I
knew he was taking the wrong course. Good-by Preston. By gracious, he
has one prairie chicken already!"
Yes; the very first chicken that his horse frightened up was filled
full of No. 8 shot, and Preston had something for his dinner. The
Adjutant could not wait to see any more. He had business to attend to
somewhere inside, so he went off and Perkins sat there on the ground
for an hour and kept watch of his companion as he wandered to and fro
on the prairie in search of another chicken. At last one got up before
him, but the shooter seemed to have lost his skill. The double barrel
spoke twice in quick succession, but the chicken kept on and in a
moment more flew over the ridge out of sight. At least that was what
Perkins thought he had done, the distance being so great that he could
not see the chicken at all; but he judged from Guy's actions that that
was the way he had gone. After waiting long enough to reload his gun,
he put spurs to his horse and presently he too was out of sight.
"Good-by Guy Preston," said Perkins, with a sigh; "you are the best
fellow that ever lived, and now the Sioux have got you sure. You should
have had better sense than to disobey the Adjutant's orders."
Perkins was in a very gloomy frame of mind as he took his way through
the gate and finally brought up before the Adjutant's door. A voice
from the inside bade him enter, and the Lieutenant knew as soon as he
looked at him that he had some news to communicate.
"Guy Preston has gone, sir," said he.
"Over the ridge?" replied the officer, starting up in his chair.
"Yes, sir. The second chicken he shot at went that way, or at least I
thought so, and Guy followed after him."
The Adjutant said no more. Guy was a favorite with all the officers
and men, and the idea of him losing his life through a disobedience of
orders was distressing. He shoved a sheet of paper which he had been
examining to one side, got up and walked to a window and looked out at
the sentry who stood in front of the gate; and Perkins, taking this as
a gentle hint that conversation was no longer desirable, put on his hat
and retreated through the door.
Guy Preston was a persevering hunter, and when he reached the top of
the swell he saw the chicken just settling in the grass about one
hundred yards away. This time there was no mistake about it. The game
"lay well to cover," and when the horse was almost ready to step upon
him he arose and sought safety in flight; but he laid too long. When
the shotgun spoke again he came down, and Guy had another chicken. For
half an hour longer he rode about behind the swell, and finally he
aroused himself and began to look around him. He was surprised to see
that he had broken orders by at least a mile or more.
"Come on, Tom, and we will go back in a hurry," said he, pulling the
horse's head around. "There were more chickens out here when I looked
over the palisade at them, and where are they now? Get up, Tom, and
we'll--"
Something happened just then to call Guy back to earth, and made him
think a little more of the Sioux than he did a few moments previous.
It was the sight of a solitary warrior sitting on his horse about half
a mile away, and what struck Guy as something strange was, he did not
seem at all afraid of being observed by anybody. Guy drew up his horse
and looked at him. He could see that the Indian brave was dressed in
war costume, but the distance was so great, not having a glass with
him, that he could not make out whether he was a chieftain or not. The
warrior seemed to be equally interested in him, for after looking at
Guy for a minute or two, he put his horse in motion and came down the
swell toward him.
"I don't believe I care for a closer acquaintance," said the young
officer, gathering up the reins and leaning forward in the saddle,
still keeping his eyes fixed upon the approaching savage. "If you want
a race, come on. It is lucky for you that I haven't my Winchester in my
hands. I would take that war bonnet of yours into the Fort with me as a
trophy."
But somehow Guy did not put his horse into rapid motion as he had
expected to do. The Indian, when he saw that Guy was getting ready
to flee, stopped his own horse, and, as if to assure him that his
intentions were pacific, held his rifle above his head at arm's length.
This done he swung himself to the ground and laid the weapon at full
length in the grass. Then he unbuckled his belt, which he also showed
to Guy, and laid it beside the rifle. The next belt he took off was the
one containing his knife, which he also placed with the others, and
having completely disarmed himself, he placed one hand upon his horse's
withers, gracefully leaped into the saddle, and once more rode toward
Guy.
"I believe he wants to communicate," thought Guy, not knowing whether
or not to accept his invitation. "Sioux, thy name is treachery; and
that fellow's motions show me that he is as active as a cat. There," he
added, seeing that the savage stopped his horse and sat regarding Guy
intently, "he is waiting to see what I am going to do. I believe I will
try him on."
Guy Preston's actions must by this time have satisfied the reader that
he was a boy who could not easily be frightened. His coming out on the
prairie to shoot chickens must have convinced one of that fact. Without
hesitating a moment he proceeded to disarm himself the same as the
savage had done, but all he had to do was to lay down his shotgun and
take off the belt containing his cartridges. His loaded Derringer he
kept in his hip pocket.
"Now come on," said he, as he again mounted his horse. "He may have
some weapons about him, but if he has I have my Derringer."