IN DEVIL'S PASS.
By this time Ned Chadmund was pretty well frightened. Corporal Hugg had
said enough to convince him that they were in the greatest danger of the
whole journey. The lieutenant drew his men close together, and two of
the most experienced scouts rode a short distance in advance of the
others, glancing from side to side, and on the watch for the first signs
of the approach of Indians.
The sides of the pass as already shown, were high and precipitous, so
that there was no possibility of escape except by going backward or
forward. Furthermore, the canyon, as it must have been at some distant
day, wound in and out in such a fashion that there were many places
where it was impossible to see more than a hundred yards in front or
rear. There was no conversation between the soldiers, and even the
corporal spoke in a lower tone to his young friend.
"If anything _does_ happen," he said, looking down in the handsome
upturned face, "I want you to behave yourself, Ned."
"Don't I always do it?"
"I should say not!" was the emphatic response. "Haven't I ordered you to
stay in the wagon, and then looked round to see you slipping out while I
was talking to you? But things are different now. If you see anything
unusual, or hear rifle balls whizzing about you, don't go to poking your
head out to see what the matter is."
"What shall I do, then?" asked the boy, who was really desirous of
following the directions of his friend.
"Just lie down in the bottom of the ambulance and wait till I tell you
to get up again. The sides are bullet-proof, and there ain't any danger
of your getting hurt there."
The afternoon was drawing to a close, and the high walls, rising up on
each side, so shut out the rays of the sun, that a somber twilight gloom
filled Devil's Pass; a deep, oppressive heaviness was in the atmosphere,
that seemed in keeping with the place which had been the scene of so
many tragedies, which was now entered with more or less misgiving upon
the part of the entire company.
"I'd make a journey of two hundred miles extra if there was any way of
gitting around this infernal place," said the lieutenant; "but as there
isn't, all we can do is to push ahead."
It was about half an hour after the warning words of the corporal to the
lad, and the eyes of the entire company were fixed upon the lieutenant
and his comrade, who were riding a short distance in advance. All at
once they were seen to rein up their horses simultaneously, as if
something in front had caught their attention. As by a common impulse,
the others did the same, and breathlessly awaited the next signal. It
came in a dozen seconds. While the hunter and his mustang remained
motionless, the lieutenant wheeled his horse about, and rode back and
the others noticed that his face was pale and expressive of great alarm.
"I knew we shouldn't get through here without a fight. There's a whole
pack of Indians ahead of us. Jake, take a turn back a short distance and
see whether they have fixed it so as to shut us in."
The man addressed turned to do as ordered, while the others anxiously
awaited his report. He was another Indian fighter, who knew precisely
what to do, and he was gone but a short time when he came thundering
back, calling out the instant he came in view around a curve in the
pass:
"We're in for the biggest scrimmage of our lives! There's five hundred
Apaches coming up the pass, and they'll be here inside of ten minutes."
The man who made this terrifying announcement was not one given to
exaggeration, and, although he might have overestimated the number in
this case, every one of his hearers knew that an overwhelming force was
in their rear, and, whatever they did to save themselves, the last thing
to be thought of was to turn back.
Scarcely had the news been announced when the scout from the other
direction galloped back.
"Well, what is it?" asked the lieutenant.
"Some of the redskins are ahead of us, that's certain."
"What tribe?"
"The Jiccarilla Apaches, I think; the worst set of scamps this side of
the Llano Estacado."
"How many?"
"I can't make out more than a dozen, and there may be less."
A hasty consultation was held, and all agreed that the appearance of
these few Indians in front was for the purpose of turning the party back
upon the main force in the rear. Consequently, the proper course was to
charge ahead, fighting their way, if necessary, through those before
them, and keeping all the distance possible between themselves and the
war party coming down from the opposite direction. Only a few seconds
were necessary to form this decision, and the cavalry started at a
gallop down the pass, Corporal Hugg lashing his powerful steed into a
much more rapid pace than he was accustomed to, or was agreeable to him.
"Now, Ned, keep your head down," said the wooden-legged soldier to the
boy. "The bullets will soon be buzzing all around us."
As he spoke he stretched out on the flat bottom of the ambulance,
allowing his head to be elevated just enough to permit him to peer over
the foreboard and guide the horse, which was now forced into a furious
gallop. Earnest in his desire to obey, Ned Chadmund did the same,
awaiting the result of this desperate attempt to escape from a most
perilous position.
The bottom of the pass was quite level and hard, but the ambulance
bounded and leaped from side to side in a way that threatened to
overturn it, and made anything like connected conversation impossible.
The speed of the party was about the same, the horsemen retaining their
position a short distance in advance of the vehicle and all nerved to
the fiery charge they believed to be inevitable. The lad, still lying
flat on his face in the bottom of the ambulance, raised his head just
enough to peer over the shoulder of the corporal at the galloping horse
and the figures of the cavalry beyond.
Suddenly the reports of a score of rifles sounded in the pass, and the
horrified lad saw fully one half of the soldiers topple out of their
saddles, riddled by the balls that had been fired from a skillfully
arranged ambush. At the same time several horses reared, plunged and
fell, fatally wounded by others of the missiles.
"Down!" shouted the corporal to Ned, who, in the excitement of the
moment, had placed his hands upon the shoulders of his friend and risen
to his knees. "Down, I say! Don't you see that they are firing at us?"
The rattling sound of the returning fire of the cavalry was heard, each
man being armed with a rifle, and the corporal rose to his knees and
lashed the galloping horse to a still greater speed.
Instead of a dozen Apaches, fully a hundred came swarming toward the
little band of soldiers, the painted warriors seeming to spring, like
the dragon's teeth of old, from the very ground. Hemmed in on every
hand, the cavalry, throwing away their rifles, which were useless in
such an emergency, and drawing their revolvers, charged straight through
the yelling horde closing in around them. Fascinated by the terrible
scene and scarcely conscious of what he was doing, Ned crawled forward
again and stared out from the front of the ambulance, while the corporal
added his voice to the terrible din by shouting to his horse, which was
plunging forward at a rate that threatened to overturn completely the
bounding vehicle.
The horsemen that were left were comparatively few and they fought like
Spartans; but Ned saw them drop one by one from their animals, until
there was only the lieutenant left, and he, poor fellow, was lying upon
his steed, both badly wounded, as they strove with the madness of
desperation to escape. But it was useless. The Apaches were all around
them, pouring in their shots with such precision that a moment later the
dying horse sank heavily to the ground and the wretches that dashed
forward to slay his rider found that he was already dead.
Corporal Hugg saw all this as a huge warrior dashed forward and seized
the rein of his own horse; but the next instant he dropped to the earth,
was trampled upon by the iron hoofs and run over in a twinkling. Still
the Indians swarmed in around and ahead of the team, against which all
the avenues of escape seemed hopelessly closed.