THE SKIRMISH IN THE BRUSH.
Up to the time the panther had turned upon him, the young officer had
thought but little of his own safety, being concerned chiefly about
Carwell, who was flat on his back, and who looked as if he as going to
be chewed up by this wild, lean, and hungry beast of the forest.
But now Captain Moore found himself attacked, and as he went over into
the brook he realized that he was in the most perilous position he had
yet encountered. Facing Indians and desperadoes was nothing compared to
facing this beast, that seemed bent upon his destruction.
The spot where the young officer struck the brook was five or six feet
deep, and as the panther came down on top of him he went straight to the
bottom.
The beast was also submerged, but not for long. Panthers, although they
can swim, do not like the water, and this one lost no time in coming to
the surface to get air. Then it let out another scream of pain, while
the bullet wound in its side dyed the brook red.
As the panther came up the young captain tried to do the same. But the
first thing he encountered was the beast's fierce claws, and he received
a deep and painful scratch in his left shoulder. Then he went down
again, and tried to come up further down the stream. But unfortunately
the panther moved in the same direction.
In the meantime the other soldiers came up to the edge of the brook.
They realized their captain's peril, and as soon as the panther showed
itself two of them blazed away, one hitting the beast in the back and
the other landing a bullet in the panther's neck.
The fury of the animal was now intense, and whirling around it lashed
the water of the brook into a perfect foam. Then it leaped for the
opposite shore, and made a break for the underbrush. Before anybody
could fire again it was gone.
When Captain Moore regained the surface of the brook willing hands
helped him out.
"Hurt?" questioned Peck anxiously.
"A little--on the shoulder," was the answer, with a gasp. "Where is the
beast?"
"Got away in yonder bushes, sir. That's a nasty dig. You had better let
me bind it up."
"Carwell, how are you?"
"The beast nipped me in the arm," answered the private, trying to
suppress a groan. "By George, but he was an ugly one!"
"That's right," put in another soldier. "You can be thankful you wasn't
chewed up."
A brief search revealed the fact that the panther had left the vicinity,
and then the others set to work to bind up the wounds the captain and
Carwell had sustained.
"We had better move on now," said the young officer, when the hurts had
been attended to. "If there are Indians or desperadoes around they must
certainly have heard those shots, and they will be wondering what they
mean."
They marched on in the gloom, and did not halt until the sun was showing
itself over the hills to the eastward. They had now gained a rise of
ground from which with a field-glass the fort might have been seen. But
the young captain's glass was gone--confiscated, as already told, by
those who had first attacked him.
"We will draw closer with caution," said the young officer. "We don't
want to walk into any trap."
Less than a mile was covered, when Peck, who had been sent out in
advance, came back and called for silence.
"Some Indians are ahead," he said.
"How many of them?" questioned Captain Moore.
"Not less than a dozen or fifteen, captain. I counted eleven, and heard
some talking that I couldn't see."
"Where are they?"
"Down behind where the brook flows over those sawtooth rocks. We were
out there fishing last summer."
"I know the spot you mean. What are the redskins doing?"
"Nothing in particular. I overheard one say to another that he expected
White Ox along before sundown."
"They must be an advance guard of the tribe, then," returned the young
officer thoughtfully. "Did any of them see you?"
"I don't think they did."
But in this Peck was mistaken, for scarcely had the soldiers started to
walk around the spot where the Indians were encamped, when a savage
war-whoop rang out, followed by half a dozen shots.
The first round was a deadly one, killing two of the men and wounding
Peck in the side. A bullet likewise grazed Captain Moore's shoulder.
"To cover!" shouted the young officer, as soon as he could speak. "The
Indians are on us!"
He had a gun in his hand, and as he gave the command he leveled it at
the leader of the party, he who had killed one of the soldiers. Captain
Moore's aim was true, and the Indian fell lifeless over the very body of
the man he had slain.
By this time the other Indians were coming up, and all the soldiers
could do was to take to the nearest cover, as the captain had ordered.
The warwhoops continued, and shots were fired from several directions.
Scarcely knowing whether he was hit or not, Captain Moore dashed into
the midst of some brushwood, and not far away from him came Peck. The
latter had broken his rifle over the head of one of the red men, and now
advanced with the hunting-knife which was still in his possession. The
young captain held a rifle, but just now had no time in which to reload
the weapon.
"They are after us hot-like!" cried Peck, after several hundred feet had
been covered.
The private's breath came short and sharp, and now for the first Captain
Moore saw how he was suffering.
"You are wounded, Peck."
"That's right, captain."
"You can't run any more."
"I've got to run," muttered Peck, between his set teeth. "They'll be
on--oh!--on us in another minute."
"Give me your arm--I'll help you along."
The private held out his hand, then gave a pitch, and, before the young
officer could catch him, sank on the grass insensible.
Captain Moore's heart leaped into his throat, for he had known Peck for
years, and the two were very friendly. He listened, and heard a distant
shot. Evidently the Indians were not yet coming in that direction. They
would first hunt down the others, providing they were not already slain.
Bending down, the young officer took Peck in his strong arms and threw
the private over his shoulder. The weight was considerable, and made him
stagger.
"I've got to carry him, somehow!" he muttered. "Heaven give me strength
to do it!"
The brushwood was thick ahead, but there was a sort of trail, made by
wild animals, and he pursued this until he came to a brook. Then to keep
the Indians from following them, should they come in that direction, he
followed the brook for a hundred yards or more. At last he reached a
point where the banks of the brook were rocky, and here he came out, and
crawled over the rocks. Not far off was an opening between two large
bowlders, and here he sank down, too exhausted to take another step.
It was half an hour before Peck came to his senses. In the meantime the
captain had obtained some water, washed the private's wound and bound it
up in bandages torn from his shirt. The loss of blood had made Peck
light-headed.
"Keep them off!" he murmured. "Keep them off! They want to bore a hole
in my side. Keep them off!"
"Be quiet, Peck, you are safe," answered the young captain soothingly.
"You've been wounded, that's the trouble," but the private continued to
rave for some time, when he relaxed into a stupor.
With strained ears Captain Moore waited for the appearance of friends or
enemies, but nobody came up the brook. Once he heard two shots far to
the northward, but whether fired by the soldiers or the Indians he could
not tell.
"I'm afraid it's been a regular slaughter," he mused sadly. "And our
getting away was a miracle," and this surmise proved correct, for, as
was afterward proven, all the others of the party were slain within an
hour after the surprise occurred.