WHAT GUY SAW
Guy Preston turned with his glass to his eyes again. There was
something going on in the Fort--it was so far away that he could not
hear the words of command, but he knew that horses were going in and
that the men were running about as if they were getting ready for
something. Presently the column appeared--a hundred men, who seemed to
be intent on going to the rescue, for they had hardly time to clear the
gate before they broke into a trot and then into a gallop. A little
nearer and Guy recognized the faces of his old Company, Perkins, Arthur
Brigham, all his roommates, as well as several of the rank and file.
Colonel Fetterman was in command, and though Guy thought he looked
rather white, he heard the order "gallop" which rang in his ears the
same as of old. Did they know that they were going to their death? If
they did there was not one of the hundred men who seemed to realize it.
"Oh, Oh!" shouted Guy, prancing about in his excitement until he came
near missing his steps and going back through the trapdoor with more
haste than he had come up a few minutes before. "All my Company are
there, every one of them, and I am to stay here cooped up like a rat
in a trap! Why did not the Colonel remember this? They will come back
flushed with victory and I will have had no hand in it!"
"Do you see any men in company D there, sir?" asked the Sergeant, who
stood close at Guy's elbow.
"Look for yourself," replied the young officer, handing his glass over
to the man. "I don't know all the men in Company D."
The Sergeant took the glass, and one look was enough to satisfy him. He
gave it back without saying a word.
"I guess you are in the same boat with me," said Guy, once more
leveling the glass to take a nearer view of the approaching
re-enforcements. "They will get all the glory of this fight. I see
Captain Brown and three or four 'old timers' who are going out with
them, and we are bound to whip; but it seems hard to me to stay here
and do nothing!"
As the horsemen tore by, Guy Preston raised his cap and swung it
lustily around his head, and there were a dozen men, among whom were
Perkins and Arthur, who returned the salute. A moment afterward the
support was gone, and Guy, with a long breath which seemed to say
that there was no help for it, settled down to watch them and keep a
close view of their movements. Nor were they obliged to wait long. The
Indians seemed surprised at the approach of so large a re-enforcement
to support the train, and at once became confused and started to
retreat; and that was enough for the supporting column. Guy saw Colonel
Fetterman turn in his saddle and swing his sword above his head, and
in an instant more a yell came to his ears and his men turned down the
ridge.
"Bully for our side of the house!" yelled Guy Preston, once more
swinging his cap around his head. "It shows what you can do, Mr. Sioux,
when you get some men to oppose you."
"They are retreating, sir?" asked the Sergeant.
"Of course they are. They cannot stand against anything like their own
number."
While Guy stood with the flag in his hand, and wondering whether or not
he ought to signal Colonel Fetterman's movement to the Fort, something
surprising happened down there at the foot of the ridge. Where there
were a dozen Indians before, there were two dozen now and more still
coming. They were coming from one of those ravines that ran back from
the left of the Fort. These two dozen Indians were promptly joined by
two dozen more, and before Guy could think twice, the plain was fairly
covered with them.
"My goodness! What is the meaning of that?" said he.
"They have run into an ambuscade, sir," said the Sergeant.
The young officer was so astonished at what he saw, that he never once
thought of the flag he held in his hand. It was done so quickly that it
appeared like a dream. While he looked more Indians came out. They made
their appearance in a large body too, and, dividing right and left as
they approached the column, soon surrounded it entirely, and nothing
but frantic and yelling Sioux could be seen from the tower.
"My goodness!" he repeated, his face turning as white as the flag he
held in his hand. "I must signal that, but I don't know what to say."
His men, one and all, offered some advice, but the signal Guy sent was
something like this:--
"Large bodies of Indians in the ravine at the foot of the hill. They
have attacked the re-enforcements."
Almost immediately there came an answer from the Fort:--
"Signal for them not to leave the ridge."
"What good will it do to signal to them now?" cried Guy, stamping about
on the tower and making no effort at all to brush the tears from his
eyes. "I can't see the column at all,--nothing but Indians!"
But Guy was a good soldier, and he made all haste to signal the post
commander's orders to Colonel Fetterman: "Don't leave the ridge,"
"Don't leave the ridge," but that was all the good it did. None of
Colonel Fetterman's men saw the signal, or if they did, they were too
busy to reply to it. Guy watched them for a minute or two through eyes
which were blinded with tears, but could not see that the Indians
were retreating in any way. On the contrary, he seemed to grow almost
frantic when he saw the white men falling back. The Indians were
gaining ground at every step.
"This beats me," said he, leaning one hand on the Sergeant's shoulder
and burying his face on the top of it, "We are whipped! The massacre's
come!"
"They might send some re-enforcements from the Fort, sir," suggested
the Sergeant, who was also crying like a schoolboy. "They have another
hundred men that they can spare for Colonel Fetterman."
"That's so," said Guy, as he caught up the flag again; and he lost no
time in sending the state of affairs to the commanding officer.
"The troops are retreating. Fetterman needs re-enforcements. They
cannot come too soon."
"There, now, I have done my duty," moaned Guy, seating himself on
the block of wood again, "I must stay right here now and see our men
whipped."
But Guy did not sit there long. The noise of the fight came plainly
to his ears, and every exultant yell of a Sioux, that now and then
rose loud and clear above the tumult, was almost as bad as torture to
himself. Again and again he signaled to the Fort, "Our men are being
overpowered. Fetterman needs re-enforcements," but no response came.
They could see the men standing idly by leaning on their guns, but no
attempt was made to send support to them.
"I almost wish that Colonel Carrington were out there," said Guy,
for the sense of responsibility that rested upon him was almost too
great for him to bear. "Have I done what I could, Sergeant? I would go
myself, if he would let me!"
The men all joined in with the Sergeant in assuring him that no
officer, situated as he was up there in the picket tower, could have
done more than Guy did to stop the massacre, and he was forced to be
satisfied with this. He sat there and watched, but was powerless to do
anything. Now and then signals came from the Fort, "How goes the battle
now?" and Guy's answer was always the same: "The Indians are whipping
our men completely out. Fetterman needs re-enforcements"; but that was
the last of it. In much less than half an hour it was all over. Then he
sprang up and caught the flag again:
"All killed. Field covered by more than one thousand Sioux."
Guy felt while sending this signal, as if he had signed his own death
warrant. He tossed the flag upon the floor, seated himself on his block
of wood again and covered his face with his hands. Perkins, Arthur
Brigham--O Lord, they were all gone! He thought of the many acts of
kindness which the boys had lavished upon him, and his feelings were
too great for utterance. Sobs which he could not repress shook his
frame all over.
"There is something else that wants signaling too," said the Sergeant.
"The wood train is coming."
Guy jumped to his feet, and looked out over the field again. There was
nothing but Sioux in sight, and they were running as if anxious to get
away from the leaden hail that was rained upon them. Guy seized the
flag and this went to the Fort:--
"Wood train coming, having beaten off assailants."
As Guy turned to look at the wagon train, he saw to his immense relief
the long line of ladened wagons at the foot of the ridge. As it passed
the battlefield Guy, repeating the signal made from the Fort, warned
it not to attack, and it did not. A frightened lot of teamsters and
soldiers went by him after a while, but where was Guy's salute this
time? He did not make any, but stood leaning on the top of the tower
and silently regarded them as they went by.
"It is all over," he said, mournfully. "I said this morning that there
would not be so many of us left in our room to-night, and this proves
it. I am alone and have not even a squad of men to command."
Leaving one of his men to watch the Fort so as to be ready to answer
any signals that might come, Guy turned his attention to the
battlefield; and now that the smoke had cleared away they saw the Sioux
in pursuit of plunder--clothes, arms, and valuables, anything that
could add to their wealth. Occasionally a faint yell would come up to
their ears, faint and far off, but still plainly audible:--
"Come down here, you pickets. We have whipped some of you, and are able
to whip the rest."
Having now a respectable force at his command, Colonel Carrington sent
one hundred and ten men to the battlefield with orders not to leave the
ridge unless they felt strong enough to attack. The howitzers went with
them, and the wagons by this time being emptied of their fuel, went
along also to bring in the dead; for it was rightly supposed that the
Sioux did not leave any wounded behind them. Guy saw them pass by, and
set himself to observe their movements. There were but few Indians left
upon the field and these fled upon the approach of the troops, and so
opportunity was had to find out the cause of the defeat. It was just as
Winged Arrow had told Guy: If he saw one battlefield, he never would
want to see another. The dead were all stripped, and the positions of
most of them led to the belief that they were killed while trying to
escape. The horses' heads pointed toward the Fort. The soldiers lying
near the base of the ridge appeared to have met their death as they
were fleeing from the field, having seen that their re-enforcements
would amount to just nothing at all. There were some few, but not very
many, mutilations among the bodies, and so the soldiers recognized
every one of the slain. Guy did not learn this until late that evening,
when all the bodies were brought in by wagons, and then he saw his
roommates cold in death. Every one of them wore a happy smile upon his
face, as if he knew his fate and was ready to give up his life in the
service of his country.
"There is somebody coming out from the Fort, sir," said the Sergeant,
breaking in upon Guy's reverie.
Two horsemen were coming at a rapid lope, and Guy's glass showed him
that they were the Lieutenant whom he had relieved in command of the
tower and an after rider, who was probably a cavalryman, to hold his
horse. Guy went down to the door to receive them, and when he opened it
Amos Billings, that was the Lieutenant's name, must have been surprised
at his greeting, although he himself was not far from shedding tears
over the thing he could not prevent.
"The commanding officer said I had better come and let you hear
something of that massacre," said Amos. "I tell you, Guy, it is awful!"
"Oh, my dear fellow!" exclaimed Guy, throwing his arms around Amos's
neck and burying his tear-stained face on his shoulder. "What are they
going to do to me?"
"To you?" repeated the Lieutenant. "Why, nothing. Guy, don't take on
this way. You were ordered up here in the tower and you stayed here.
Did you not answer all the signals?"
"Yes; and I made some I ought not to have made. Fetterman never asked
for help. I saw that the Sioux were too many for him, and so I asked
for re-enforcements."
"Well, what of that? I guess he needed them bad enough. Now let us sit
down here on the steps and I will tell you as much as I know about it."