GETTING READY TO CHASE KAH-GO-MISH.
It was noon when Cal Evans opened his eyes, and even then the lids came
apart reluctantly. He saw his mother sitting by him, and Vic was peering
in at the door, but he did not quite understand matters.
"Mother," he said, "are you all safe?"
"Yes, we're all safe--" she began.
"He's awake! Mother, may I come in?" shouted Vic. "Cal! we had such a
time. We all dressed up in those old uniforms and played soldier. I
fired at the Apaches from the roof."
Cal struggled to sit up, and found out how sore and stiff he was, while
he exclaimed:
"Vic, did you? There was an attack? You beat them off?"
"Scared them off," said his mother. "Why, how lame you are!"
"Awful!" he groaned, as he lay back again. "But about the fight--"
"There wasn't any," said Vic, and she added a rapid sketch of the
garrison--Norah McLory at the gate, and Mrs. Evans with the drum, and
the Mexican women parading as sentinels.
"Tell us about your ride," she said, as she paused for breath.
"Ride?" he said. "Well, yes, it was a great ride, but I don't know the
whole of it, myself. How's Dick?"
"Sam says he's all right," said Vic, "and there isn't such another horse
in all New Mexico."
"Guess there isn't," replied Cal, very emphatically. "The black is a
good fellow, but it was his gait that made me so sore. I can't turn
over."
He could tell all that he knew, however, and he could hear all that they
had to say, and he found that he could sit up when Norah brought in his
breakfast.
"Hungry? I guess I am. Never was so hungry in all my life. But I'm going
with father after 'em."
He was as much in need of a thorough rubbing as Dick had been, but when
Sam Herrick gave it to him, a little later, he had to shut his mouth
hard, for Sam's gentleness was of a cowboy kind, and he did his whole
duty. After that was over Cal could walk fairly well, and he went out at
once for a look at the red mustang, and Vic and his mother went with
him.
"There he is," he said, "that's a fact, but I can't tell how it came to
be so. I left him picketed in the corral, at the cavalry camp. He must
have untied himself and got away."
Cal knew nothing about the teeth of the persecuting mule.
"Did you mount him in your sleep?" asked Vic.
"I don't know," he said. "I was so tired I went to sleep more than once.
Dreamed, too. It was all a good deal like a dream. Seems so yet, from
the beginning. I've a kind of memory that Dick came alongside, crowding
close and whinnying, and that he and the black stood still, so I could
crawl on Dick's back and lie down, somehow, and sleep more comfortably.
That's all I know about it, except what you've told me."
If the red mustang felt any stiffness as a consequence of his remarkable
performances, he kept the matter to himself and accepted graciously all
the petting given him. The black came in for his share of praise, but he
was regarded as an enlisted private horse of the regular army, while
Dick's last performance had been altogether as a volunteer.
It was just about noon when Captain Moore, riding at the head of his
men, listened to a message from Colonel Evans, brought to him by Bill,
the long, lank, yellow-haired cowboy.
"All right," said the captain. "Glad I needn't push any faster under
this hot sun. Glad Cal got in safe. Gritty young fellow. You'll have to
tell him, though, that his horse and one of our pack-mules got away in
the night. Sorry, but there's no help for it."
"Well, yes, that's so," replied Bill, "but that there red mustang. Why,
captain, do you know, Cal Evans rid into Saint Lucy on to him? The hoss
was a-caring for him like a human, and Cal was sound asleep. He hadn't
begun to wake up when I kem away."
The captain and his fellow-officers had questions enough to ask, then,
and they learned all about Dick's volunteer work when they reached the
ranch the next day. They knew nothing about the mule then, but at that
very hour the long-eared rascal reported himself for garrison duty and
rations at Fort Craig, having for the time delivered himself from the
pack business and from the fatigues of a long chase after Apache
horse-thieves.
There were delays in the preparations for following the band of
Kah-go-mish. Captain Moore had to wait for further instructions from
Fort Craig, and Colonel Evans also waited for Joaquin and the expected
cowboy recruits from the upper ranches.
Sam and the rest had already gathered, with keen satisfaction, the drove
of horses which had so nicely dodged Kah-go-mish, and they had scoured
the plain to Slater's Branch and beyond. They reported all things safe
and serene, and then Cal and Vic and their mother rode out and went over
all the scene of his first adventure.
From the mound on the prairie Cal showed them how the cattle and horses
were stampeded. Then they went to the timber and the fallen trees where
he and Sam "stood off" the Apaches. Then they rode away down to where
Sam had first been swarmed around by the Mescaleros, and there was Sam
to tell about it.
"Colorado!" remarked he, "but didn't they butcher a lot of cattle! They
got about a dozen mules, thirty good hosses, and sixty or seventy
second-rates and ponies. Mounted their whole band, I reckon!"
"I don't care so much about that," said Mrs. Evans, but she was looking
at Cal just then.
"Vic," said Cal, "you was three years at school, away off there in the
settlements, and so was I."
"No Indians there," said Vic.
"Good thing you was," said Sam. "I never had any schooling. Hope you
learned a heap."
"Hope I did," said Cal, "but I tell you what, it seems to me as if I'd
learned more in one day's riding."
"Well, yes, like enough," replied Sam, "more of one kind. Glad you
didn't learn how an arrer feels. I did, once. Bullet, too. Tell you
what, though, if you go on the trail with your father and the captain, I
reckon you'll learn some more."
"I've seen a great many Indians," began Vic, "but they were all friendly
except--"
"Colorado!" suddenly exclaimed Sam. "Four of 'em! Heading right for us!
Don't shoot, Cal. Keep a good ready, but don't throw lead if you can
help it. It beats me!"
Mrs. Evans reined her horse close along side of Vic's pony, but said
nothing. Her face was pale, but that of Vic's was flushed fiery red. So
was Cal's as he touched Dick with his heel and sent him forward
head-and-head with Sam's gray.
Four unmistakable red warriors, armed to the teeth, were rapidly riding
nearer.
"Mother," exclaimed Vic, "I'm ready."
"So am I," said Mrs. Evans, sharply. "We can both help."
Each had a revolver in her hand, and Vic afterwards remembered how glad
she felt, just then, of all her target practice. Her thought was, "I can
hit one, I know I can."
The leading idea in Cal's mind was that his hero-time had come, and that
he alone was quite enough for four Apaches. The expression upon his
face, during about two minutes, was tremendously heroic. He glanced
behind him and saw just such another look upon that of Vic, but the
smile his mother gave him made him feel like a whole regiment of
cavalry.
"Isn't he splendid!" said Vic.
Just then the four red men halted. They were only twenty yards away, and
it might be that they were getting ready to shoot. They were conferring
for a brief moment.
Cal drew rein, as Sam did, at the same time, and one of the Indians rode
forward holding out his right hand, palm up.
"How?" he said. "Chiricahua chief want Sam? Ugh! Heap friend."
"Colorado!" exclaimed the cowboy. "That's it, Cal. They're the friendly
Chiricahua-Apache scouts the captain sent for first time you met him.
They want me to go 'long and show 'em the trail. Reg'lar bloodhounds."
He turned in his saddle and shouted, "Ladies, it's all right," and in a
moment more he and Cal were shaking hands with their new acquaintances.
"What hideous-looking men they are!" exclaimed Vic, for at that moment
they were smiling, and the one holding Cal's hand was saying, "Ugh! Boy,
heap ride. Heap good pony. Ride big sleep. 'Pache 'calp him; he no wake
up. Lose hair all same."
That was evidently meant for a good-humored joke. Mrs. Evans and Vic had
to shake hands with them next, and then rode away with Cal towards Santa
Lucia, while Sam and the wild-looking scouts set out for an examination
of all the traces left behind by Kah-go-mish and his warriors.
"The two bands, Chiricahuas and Mescaleros, are almost like different
tribes," was the explanation Vic received from her mother.