The ride was rough and rapid. Notwithstanding the superiority of my
steed, it was as much as I could do to keep pace with my new allies--
whose horses, used to all sorts of ground, went gliding along the uneven
paths, as if they had been graded roads. Through tangled bushes they
scrambled without stay, over sharp and slippery rocks--their unshod
hoofs rendering them sure-footed as mountain sheep. Down the gorge lay
our route; and paths, over which I had almost feared to walk my horse,
were now passed in a quick continuous gallop. We soon reached the scene
of my encounter with the huntress. The dog still kept sentry over the
game. Couchant by the body of the bighorn, he only growled as the
cavalcade swept past. No one stopped to relieve him, of his charge. On
a war expedition the chase is universally neglected. Even its spoils
are spurned. Hunger is supposed to beget prowess, as it sharpens the
wits; and the savage fights best upon an empty stomach.
The hurried movements of the Indians--the eagerness each one exhibited
to press forward--proved how earnest they were on this expedition. It
was not my affair that was stimulating them to such speed. A tribal
hostility of long standing--older than the warriors themselves--existed
between Utah and Arapaho. Between the bands of Wa-ka-ra and Red-Hand
the hostile inheritance had increased until it had reached the maximum
of the most deadly _vendetta_. This will account for the hot haste with
which we hurried on--for the universal excitement that prevailed in the
ranks of my Utah allies. They knew that they outnumbered their enemies.
They already exulted in the anticipation of a grand _coup_.
For all that, they were not rushing recklessly into battle. The Utah
chieftain was too skilled a soldier. I perceived that he was acting
upon a preconceived plan; and his strategy was soon made known to me.
It was that of the "surround." The band was to break up into four
divisions of nearly equal numerical strength. The first, under Wa-ka-ra
himself, was to go round by the bluffs; and, having worked its way into
the lower canon, would enter the plain from that direction. Should the
Arapahoes attempt to retreat towards the Arkansas, this party could
intercept them. A second division--also keeping above the bluffs--was
to make to a point nearly opposite the butte; where, by a ravine known
to the Indians, a descent could be made into the valley of the Huerfano.
A third was to seek its station upon the opposite side--where a similar
defile led down to the plain; while the remaining warriors were to move
forward by the upper canon, and halt at its mouth--until the other three
parties were known to have reached their respective places.
At a signal agreed upon, all four divisions were to move forward at a
rapid gallop, and close in upon the enemy. The first party was to give
the cue: as it had furthest to go; and, by the time it could reach its
destination, the others would be ready. A smoke was to be the signal
for charging forward. The plan was well conceived; and if it should
prove that the Arapahoes were still by the butte, a fight _a l'outrance_
might be looked for as the certain result. They would have no
alternative but fight.
The execution of the movement was soon entered upon. Near the place
where I had passed the last hours of the night, a side ravine--which, in
the darkness I had not observed--sloped up out of the gorge. By canons
and deep defiles the whole face of the country was cut up in this
_bi-pinnate_ fashion--every pass of it being well-known to the Utahs.
Hence their confidence in being able to effect the surround of their
enemies, who were less familiar with this region; and who must have been
tempted thither by the passage of the train.
Up the lateral ravine rode Wa-ka-ra with his dusky warriors; while the
second division, intended to take station on the bluff, defiled by the
same track, but more slowly. The rest of us kept on down the gorge.
On reaching the main canon, the party destined for the opposite bluff
separated from the other; and proceeded circuitously by a branch ravine
that opened to the upper plain.
The fourth and last division rode direct down the bank of the river--
upon the path by which I had been pursued. This division was in charge
of the second chief; and to it was I myself assigned--with Peg-leg, also
a volunteer, as my immediate companion. The trapper had himself some
old scores to settle with the Arapahoes; and appeared as eager for the
fight as any Utah in the tribe.
Apprehensive of falling in with some straggling pursuers of the
preceding night, we moved forward with caution. The sub-chief was an
old warrior, whose scars and grizzled hair betokened experience of many
a hostile encounter, and no doubt many a cunning stratagem. Scouts were
sent in advance; and these, returning from time to time, signalled that
the path was clear. Advancing in this fashion, we at length reached the
embouchure of the canon, and halted within its gloomy shadow.
As yet not an Arapaho had been seen: but, on climbing to a ledge of
rocks, I had the satisfaction to perceive that these brigands were still
by the butte. I saw not them, but their horses--the _cavallada_ being
almost in the position in which I had left it! From this it was
evident, that they had returned from the pursuit: had abandoned it
altogether, and given their steeds to the grass. Only a few of the men
were in sight--moving about among the fires, that still burned upon the
plain; but the strength of the _cavallada_ told that the others were
there--no doubt, concealed from our view by the interposed mass of the
mound. I saw the waggon at its base--the white tilt conspicuous against
the dark-green foliage of the cedars. But my eyes dwelt not upon this.
In rapid glance, they were carried to the summit.
The crucifix was still there. I could trace its timbers--its upright
and horizontal beams--though not distinctly. I knew what was rendering
their outlines indistinct. There was a body upon the cross--the body of
a man. It was that which interrupted the regularity of the lines. The
timbers were between me and the body--for I viewed it from behind--and
at such a distance, I could not have told who was the crucified man,
even had he been facing me. Wingrove or Sure-shot--one or the other.
Of that much I was certain. I could make out that the man was naked--
just as I had been myself: I saw his white skin glistening along each
side of the upright post.
While gazing upon it, I heard the report of a musket. Nearly at the
same instant, a little blue-coloured cloud was ascending into the air.
It rose from behind the butte; and was easily recognisable as smoke
produced by the discharge of a gun. The savages had returned to their
cruel sport. Too clearly did I comprehend the signs of that fiendish
exhibition. After regarding the crucifix for awhile, I noted a
circumstance that enabled me to decide which of my comrades was
undergoing the terrible ordeal. To a certainty, Sure-shot was the
sufferer. The Red-Hand had fulfilled his threat; and my brave preserver
was now promoted to my place. The circumstance that guided me to this
knowledge was sufficiently definite. I could tell it was Sure-shot by
his height. I remembered that my own crown scarcely reached the top of
the upright post. That of him now enduring the torture rose above it--
by the head. Under the bright sunbeam, there was a sheen of yellow
hair. That of Wingrove would have appeared dark. Beyond doubt,
Sure-shot was the martyr now mounted upon that dread cross!
I viewed the spectacle with feelings not to be envied. My soul chafed
at the restraint, as it burned with bitter indignation against these
demons in human form. I should have rushed forward to stay the
sacrifice, or, if too late, to satisfy the vengeance it called forth;
but I was restrained by reflecting on the impotency of the act. The
prudent chief who commanded the Indians would not move, till the
smoke-signal should be given; and videttes had climbed far up on the
cliff, to watch for and announce it. It was not anticipated that we
should have long to wait. Our party had moved slowly down the defile;
and the time consumed in our advance was considerable--almost enough to
have enabled the others to get to their respective stations. This
thought--along with my experience of the ball-practice of the
Arapahoes--in some measure reconciled me to the delay. If he upon the
cross was still living, his chances of escape were scarcely
problematical. Another shot or two from such marksmen would be neither
here nor there. If the unfortunate man were already dead, then was the
delay of _less_ consequence: we should still be in time to avenge him.
But he was _not_ dead. The evidence that he was living was before my
eyes; though, in the confusion of the moment, I had no sooner perceived
it. Above the top of the post appeared the head held stiffly upright.
This proved that the body still lived. Had it been otherwise, the head
would have been drooping?