AN INVASION OF TWO REPUBLICS.
Kah-go-mish was a great chief, and had employed all the cunning in him
in his arrangements for eluding his pursuers. It now remained to be seen
whether or not he had made blunders.
The Chiricahua scout lay on the white quartz only a few yards from the
water's edge. The sage-hen sat under the bush. The Apache leader lay
once more in his rabbit-path behind her, having regained it by a long
circuit through the chaparral.
The two buzzards overhead were floating somewhat lower, and they could
see all over the tangled maze of scrubby growth and buffalo-paths.
From the southward came a soft, warm wind, carrying with it sounds which
brought a quick, vindictive gleam into the eyes of Kah-go-mish. First
came the faint, distant music of a bugle, as if to inform both friends
and enemies that a cavalry column was picking its way through the
spider-web. A little later shouts could be heard, and then the rattle of
sabres and the neighing of horses. Nearer and nearer drew the assurance
that quite a lot of fellows of some sort were at hand, and all the while
the buzzards overhead, and they only, were aware that a very
different-looking set were approaching from another direction.
This second party was also armed and mounted, but it plodded on in
silence and not rapidly. They seemed disposed to feel their way with
some care, although not at all in doubt as to the path they were
following. Part of these silent horsemen were all the way from Fort
Craig, hunting some Mescaleros who had left their Reservation, and the
rest of them were from Santa Lucia ranch and its neighborhood, and had
come for some stolen horses. Just now many of them seemed disposed to
discuss the military tactics of Mexican commanders.
"All the Indians in the chaparral have had good bugle-warning, Sam,"
said Colonel Evans to the cowboy nearest.
"Colorado!" said Sam. "Reckon they have. But then no redskins nor
anybody else 'd stop here long. We know one thing, though."
"What's that, Sam?"
"Well, if our redskins are here away, they've been raced out of Mexico.
We'll get 'em on American sile."
That appeared to be the opinion of Captain Moore, but the entire party
had a hot, thirsty, jaded look, as of men and horses who had made a long
push across a desert and wanted rest and water.
"We'll try and reach the spring first," said the captain, "and claim our
first choice of a camping-ground."
That was why neither of the two bodies of cavalry got there first, and
why Kah-go-mish and the sage-hen heard, pretty soon, an American cavalry
bugle from the east answering the Mexican music from the south.
Then the buzzards overhead saw men in uniform and other men in no
uniform ride out of the chaparral, from opposite sides, into the great
rocky open around the spring.
Just before that Kah-go-mish had seen three Chiricahuas steal out from
the cover. They had scouted all around it, and one of them had passed
very near the lurking Mescalero. He had been in no danger, for
Kah-go-mish had heard the bugles and knew that he must lie still. All
three were now grouped around their lost comrade on the rock.
"Ugh!" they said, as they looked at him. "Kah-go-mish."
Captain Moore had been informed of the name of the chief whose band had
wandered from the Reservation, and now the Chiricahuas were in no doubt
as to whose work lay before them. It was part of an old personal feud,
they said, and had nothing to do with pale-faces or stolen horses.
Straight to the margin of the spring rode Captain Moore and the Mexican
commander, each followed by several other riders, while behind them
their men filed out of the chaparral.
The meeting of the two officers was ceremoniously polite, and was
followed by rapid explanations that left them in little doubt but that
they were pursuing the same enemy.
"Senor," said Captain Moore, with a smile, at last, as he looked around,
"your forces have invaded the territory of the United States."
"Senor Capitan," smiled the Mexican, with a low bow, "part of the troops
under your command have broken the treaty and are now in Mexico."
"I propose, then, Colonel Romero," said the captain, "that we compromise
the matter. My command is almost thirsty enough to drink up the American
half of this spring. How are your own?"
"Dry as the sand," would have been a fair interpretation of the polite
Mexican's reply, and orders were given on both sides which provided for
the thirsty men and animals without delay.
There were pleasant-voiced introductions among the gentlemen, and the
blue-coats and cowboys mingled freely with the lancers and rancheros. If
Kah-go-mish did not know it before, he now learned that these Mexicans,
of whom there were nearly two hundred, were not the same force that he
had collected his target-fee from.
A sort of mutual council of war of all the officers and Colonel Evans
was held over the body of the dead Chiricahua scout.
"It may indicate the presence of only one warrior," said Captain Moore,
"or it may mean that the whole band is near--"
At that moment a loud whoop sounded from the chaparral, westerly. It was
followed by the hasty return of one of the Chiricahuas to announce that
he had found the trail of the Apaches and that it led towards the south,
into Mexico.
"You can follow them, then, and I cannot," said Captain Moore to Colonel
Romero. "I should like to consult with Colonel Evans as to my own
course."
He looked around as if searching for the owner of Santa Lucia, who had
been at his elbow, but had suddenly seemed to vanish.
[Illustration: "UGH!" THEY SAID, AS THEY LOOKED AT HIM. "KAH-GO-MISH"]
"Si, Senor Capitan," replied Colonel Romero. "We will follow the
trail at once, and I am glad that all the glory is to be ours. We shall,
at all events, be in a good camping-ground by sunset."
"Your whole command is with you?" asked the captain.
"Except a pack-train and spare horses," replied Colonel Romero. "We
pushed ahead a little, and they took it easily. They are only a few
miles behind and will soon catch up with us."
He said more, and he had a good voice. He accompanied his very distinct
utterances with gestures, not dreaming that the sage-hen or any other
improper listener was near enough to learn too much.
Even in his rabbit-patch, however, Kah-go-mish could not entirely
restrain his thoughts.
"Ugh!" he muttered. "Heap pony. Heap mule."
Horses and men had quenched their thirst and both sides were eating
luncheon. The two commanders separated, and Captain Moore turned away.
As he did so a large man stood before him with flushed, excited face.
"Captain Moore, Cal is lost! Lost in the chaparral!"
That was why he had stepped away so suddenly, for Sam Herrick had first
beckoned to him, and then had led him aside to say that Cal had not come
in with the rest. He had hunted for him all around, but not one of the
men had seen him for an hour and a half. The colonel himself had at once
made rapid inquiries, and now he had brought the news to Captain Moore,
in such a state of mind that he could not think.
"Cal!" exclaimed the captain. "Lost! Oh, no. Don't be so agitated. You
can find him."
The colonel tried to speak, but his voice refused to do its duty.
"Herrick, Sam," said the captain, quietly, "those Greasers have more
bugles than they need. Buy a couple. I'll lend you mine. Stop. I'll
speak to Colonel Romero about it."
"Bugles?" said Colonel Evans.
"Why, yes," said the captain, "if Cal is tangled in the chaparral he
must have something to guide him. I must push on, along the boundary
line, to see what luck I can have with the Mescaleros. Colonel Romero
and his men will follow their direct trail, and so they won't find them;
but we both make it safer for you. Patrol back, blowing all sorts of
noise, and Cal's pretty sure to ride right up to one bugle or another.
Scatter 'em wide."
"Thank you. Thank you, captain," said the colonel. "Sam, get all the
bugles you can. Give a horse for a bugle. Give anything!"
The captain at once rode into Mexico for a talk with Colonel Romero.
There was, indeed, an over-supply of musical instruments in that
command, and its gallant colonel sympathized impressively with the
feelings of Cal's father and friends. So did two militiamen who were
happy enough to own unnecessary bugles. Sam Herrick did not give a horse
for either, but one battered, crooked tube of sheet brass brought enough
money to replace it with a new one at least half silver.
Captain Moore hardly needed to explain so simple a plan. He had tried it
twice, he said, for stray men of his own, and in each case they had
ridden safely in. Neither he nor Colonel Evans guessed that Cal had
already ridden away beyond the stretch of chaparral in which they
proposed to toot for him.