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BOYS OF THE FORT
_Or, A Young Captain's Pluck_
FLAG OF FREEDOM SERIES
By CAPTAIN RALPH BONEHILL
AUTHOR OF "THE YOUNG BANDMASTER," "WHEN SANTIAGO FELL," "A SAILOR BOY
WITH DEWEY," "OFF FOR HAWAII," ETC.
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
COPYRIGHT, 1901, BY
THE MERSHON COMPANY
[Illustration: DEFENDING THE FORT.]
PREFACE.
"BOYS OF THE FORT" is a complete story in itself, but forms the fifth
volume of a line of works issued under the general title of "Flag of
Freedom Series."
In penning this tale I had it in mind to acquaint my young readers with
the ins and outs of military life at one of our Western forts of to-day,
showing what both officers and privates are called upon to do, and what
troubles the Indians and the bad men of that locality are still in the
habit of making. The field is one about which little has been written,
although abounding in interest, and one which is worthy the attention of
all who have the proper development of our country at heart.
To some, certain scenes in this book may appear overdrawn, yet such is
far from being the case. In this wild territory there are those who have
lived all their lives beyond the pale of civilization, men who grow up
dwarfed and crooked in mind, and who resent every effort made to better
their condition.
The young captain is a fine specimen of the wide-awake American army
officer, yet he is no more brave and dashing than are thousands of
others, officers and privates, who serve under our Flag of Freedom. He
is trained to do his duty, and he simply does it, regardless of possible
consequences.
Once more I take this opportunity to thank my young friends for the
kindness with which they have received my former stories, and I
earnestly hope this present tale merits equal commendation.
CAPTAIN RALPH BONEHILL.
_July 1, 1901._
CONTENTS.
I. BOUND FOR THE FORT
II. CAVES IN THE MOUNTAIN
III. AN IMPORTANT CONVERSATION
IV. LOST IN THE FOREST
V. THE BIG BLACK BEAR
VI. DARRY MAKES A DISCOVERY
VII. AT HANK LEESON'S CABIN
VIII. THE STEALING OF THE HORSES
IX. ARRIVAL AT THE FORT
X. THE RESULT OF A SWIM
XI. SOMETHING ABOUT DRILLING
XII. DEER HUNTING
XIII. A FISH AND A SNAKE
XIV. OVER THE MOUNTAIN TOP
XV. THE RESULT OF A HURRICANE
XVI. CAPTAIN MOORE'S ADVENTURE
XVII. THREE PRISONERS
XVIII. BENSON PUTS SOME MEN IN A HOLE
XIX. ESCAPING IN THE DARKNESS
XX. SOMETHING ABOUT WHITE OX
XXI. A TRICK OF THE ENEMY
XXII. IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY
XXIII. A PANTHER IN CAMP
XXIV. THE SKIRMISH IN THE BRUSH
XXV. A LUCKY MEETING
XXVI. THE ENEMIES WITHIN THE FORT
XXVII. SIGNALS AND WHAT FOLLOWED
XXVIII. THE DEMANDS OF THE ENEMY
XXIX. OPENING OF THE BATTLE
XXX. SIGNALS IN THE DARK
XXXI. BURNING OF THE STOCKADE
XXXII. RELIEF AT LAST--CONCLUSION
List of Illustrations
DEFENDING THE FORT.
"NOW DARRY'S RIFLE SPOKE UP, AND THE BEAR WAS HIT AGAIN"
"AT LAST HE PUT THE GUNS IN THEIR HANDS AND LET THEM MARCH WITH THE
PIECES."
"HE LEAPED BETWEEN THEM AND CAUGHT THEIR RIFLES."
BOYS OF THE FORT.
CHAPTER I.
BOUND FOR THE FORT.
"How many miles have we still to ride, Benson?"
"About fifty, Joe. But the last half is pretty much uphill, lad."
"Can we make the fort by to-morrow night?"
"Well, we can try," answered the old scout, who sat astride of a
coal-black horse and rode slightly in advance of his two youthful
companions. "It will depend somewhat on what the weather does."
"Why, do you think it is going to rain?" put in Darry Germain. "I'm sure
it looks clear enough."
"Aint no telling what the weather will do in this valley," answered Sam
Benson. "It may stay clear for a week, but to me the signs don't exactly
p'int that way," and he shook his head gravely.
"A little rain wouldn't hurt," said Joe Moore. "A couple of miles back
the road was fearfully dusty."
"The trouble is, when it rains out here it rains," answered the old
scout. "The clouds come a-tumbling over yonder mountains, and inside of
half an hour you'd fancy the water was going to drown out everything."
"Then if it rains we'll have to put up somewhere," said Darry Germain.
"Aint no cabin on this trail short of Hank Leeson's place, twenty miles
this side of the fort. If we can get that far I reckon we can make the
fort."
"Then where will we stop to-night?" asked Darry with interest.
"At the Star Hotel--if the sky is clear," said Sam Benson, with a laugh
at what he considered his little joke.
"You mean in the open, under the stars!" cried the boy; and, as the old
scout nodded, he went on: "That will be nice. I've been wanting to camp
out in regular trapper style ever since we left Riverton."
"So have I," put in Joe Moore. "But I don't know as I care to camp out
and get soaked."
"If it rains we'll find some kind of shelter," answered Benson. "But
come, let us make the most of the daylight while it lasts," and he
urged his steed forward, and the two boys did the same.
The three were pursuing their way along a gap in the Rocky Mountains,
where the so-called valley was broken up by tiny water-courses, walls of
rock, and dense patches of forest and underbrush. It was midsummer, and
the hot air was filled with the scent of green growing things. Deep in
the forest the song-birds sang gayly and the wild animals had full play
to come and go as they pleased, for to get at them in those vast
fastnesses was next to impossible.
The party of three had left the town of Riverton four days before. They
were bound for Fort Carson,--so named after Kit Carson, the celebrated
scout and Indian fighter,--and Sam Benson carried messages of importance
to Colonel Fairfield, the commandant at the fort.
Joe Moore and Darry Germain were cousins, and both were boys of sixteen,
well built and well trained in outdoor athletic sports. Joe came from
Chicago and Darry from St. Louis, and each had graduated from his local
high school but a few weeks before.
It was while Darry was spending a brief vacation with his cousin Joe
that a plan for visiting the fort was formed. Joe's older brother,
William, was a West Point graduate and a captain at the fort, and he
wrote on stating that he had received permission to have Joe visit him,
and Darry could come too if he desired. Colonel Fairfield was an old
friend of both families, and promised to treat the lads well should they
make the trip.
"Hurrah! just the thing!" Joe had cried. "Of course you'll go, Darry. We
couldn't have a grander outing."
"I'll go if father and mother will let me," had been Darry's answer, and
he had at once written home concerning the affair. Two weeks later the
boys were off, the parents of each cautioning them to be careful, and
wishing them the best of luck.
The journey westward as far as the mining-town of Riverton had occurred
without special incident. They had been told to hire a guide at this
point, and while looking for a man had fallen in with Sam Benson. Benson
knew Captain William Moore well, and he at once promised to take the
boys along with him and do the best he could by them.
"You'll want good hosses," Benson had said, and had aided them in
selecting their animals and in getting together the necessary outfit.
The start was made one fine morning in August, and all three of the
party were in the best of spirits.
The four days in the mountains had opened the eyes of both lads. The
traveling had been rather hard, yet they had enjoyed every minute of the
journey. They had stopped once to do some fishing, and Benson had
brought down a small mountain deer. At night they had put up at the
cabins of hunters and trappers, and before retiring had listened to
thrilling tales of adventures with wild beasts and with the Indians.
But now Joe was anxious to get to the fort and see his brother, from
whom he had been separated for nearly two years. Darry was also anxious
to reach the outpost, to meet not only his cousin William, but likewise
Colonel Fairfield, who was an old friend not easily forgotten. Once at
the fort the two boys felt that a vacation full of fun and pleasure
would follow. Never once did they dream of the perils which awaited them
in that wild region, which was not as civilized as it was to become a
handful of years later.
"It seems to me it is growing hotter," remarked Darry, after riding a
quarter of a mile in silence.
"It is growing hotter," answered the old scout. "And that makes me more
certain than ever that a storm's at hand."
"We'll have to take what comes," said Joe. "But I did hope we'd reach
the fort by to-morrow."
On they went, around a bend of the trail and over some rough rocks,
where the horses had to step with care, for fear of slipping into a
gully on the left. Then they reached a patch of timber and plunged
beneath the low-drooping trees. Here it was both dark and cool, and
Darry breathed a long sigh of relief.
"How delicious!" he murmured. "It's almost like going into a cave.
Benson, there must be lots of caves in these mountains," he went on
reflectively.
"There are," answered the old scout. "I've been in a score or more."
"I should like to explore a big cave," came from Joe. "It would be a
novelty to me."
"You may get the chance, lad," said Benson; "and get it soon."
"What do you mean? Are we going to ride by a cave?"
"There are a dozen or more ahead, and we may have to seek one of 'em for
shelter. Do you hear that?"
Benson threw back his head to listen, and the two boys did likewise.
From a great distance came the rumble of thunder, echoing and re-echoing
throughout the mountains. To the westward the sun was hidden by a dense
mass of black clouds which grew more ominous each instant.
"The storm is coming, sure enough," muttered Joe. "What do you propose?"
"We'll ride on a bit, lad. It won't hit us right away. Come!"
The horses were urged forward at an increased speed, and soon they
passed the patch of timber and came out to where a thick fringe of brush
skirted a long, high cliff. The sky was now dark on every side, and the
wind was rising with a dull, humming sound.
"We'll catch it in a few minutes!" cried Benson; and hardly had he
spoken when the big drops came splashing down, hitting the broad leaves
in the underbrush with resounding smacks.
The old scout continued to lead, and presently he turned to the left,
where the cliff parted. Here was an opening, lined on either side with
rocks and dirt, and a short distance further was the entrance to a cave
of unknown depths.
"We'll stop here," said the old scout, leaping to the ground, followed
by the boys. "This aint the best place in the world, but it's better
than the open, in such a blow as is coming."
He was right about the blow--already the wind was rising, and hardly had
the three led their horses into the cave, the entrance to which was over
a dozen feet high, when there came a crashing through the timber left
behind, which sent many a frail limb and sapling to the ground and
carried the leaves and twigs in all directions.
"I'm glad we didn't stay in the woods!" cried Darry. "We'd be in danger
of falling trees."
"And lightning too," added Joe. "Oh, my! look at that!" he continued, as
a blinding flash lit up the heavens. "That must have struck somewhere."
"We'll go back a little," said old Benson. "The lightning is just as bad
here as it is in the woods. Wait till I get a torch."
Pine was plentiful in that locality, and soon he had a knot which was
full of pitch and which burned well when a match was applied to it. With
the torch in hand, he led the way further into the cave, and the boys
followed with their animals.