A SIGNAL.
Lieutenant Decker and his friends held their position for some time
after the departure of Cemuri on his return to Fort Reno. Although they
had left the stream, which had served them as a partial guide for a
number of hours, they were not far from it, and the young officer was
inclined to think it was the part of wisdom to stay in its vicinity.
The situation may be explained thus:
Geronimo and his band were evidently aiming to reach the more exposed
ranches and dwellings to the eastward in the Sutra Valley, although
when on their raids it seemed to matter little to them where they
struck their terrible blows. Nothing was to prevent the swift riders
from sweeping through the section whenever they chose, but brave and
reckless as they were, they did not shut their eyes to peril.
From what had occurred they knew that their presence was discovered
and that movements were already under way to check them. They had seen
scouts from Fort Reno, and may have known that others were scouring the
country. If the hostiles pushed on, they might find a strong party of
cavalry in their rear or on their flanks, with the certainty of losing
some of their best warriors before the rest could escape.
Lieutenant Decker’s anxiety now was to open communication with a party
of his friends and arrange an attack upon the Apaches. Could this
be done within the next few hours, Geronimo would be frustrated and
compelled to withdraw without striking one of his fearful blows.
Until such junction could be effected, the officer wished to keep up a
demonstration in front of the bucks, or show such activity that even if
it failed to turn them back, it would retard or check their raid until
the soldiers could do something more effective. It would seem that a
decisive blow ought to be struck against the raiders within the next
twenty-four hours.
This will make clear why after having retreated part way to the fort,
Decker halted, unwilling to yield what he considered an advantageous
position.
But, admitting all this, the three were in a situation of extreme
delicacy and peril. The Apaches had drawn off from pursuit, but, at
most, were not far off. They had but to advance somewhat further along
the line they had been pursuing to come upon the three horsemen, who
had no means of concealing themselves. The cunning and ingenuity
already displayed by Geronimo’s men made it seem folly for Decker and
his companions to believe they could avoid being outwitted.
Nevertheless the officer resolved to hold his ground, or rather not
to continue his flight, and Maurice Freeman was as earnest in the same
purpose as he. The all-powerful motive with the elder, however, will be
understood, for he was really fighting for the sake of those that were
dearer to him than his own life.
On these scouting excursions the lieutenant always carried a few
rations, so, while they waited for night to close round them, the three
partook of food. When that was finished it was growing dark.
Pointing his Winchester toward the sky, the lieutenant discharged it
twice in quick succession, following with a third report at a longer
interval.
“That is a signal to whoever of the boys may hear it,” he explained to
Freeman.
“And means what?”
“That I have located the hostiles and my friends must join me with the
least possible delay.”
“How will you know whether it is heard?”
“I will receive the same answer. The whole thing is understood by every
one who left the post—halloo! do you hear that?”
The faint but distinct report of a rifle sounded in the distance, and
all three listened for the sounds needed to complete the signal, but to
their disappointment there was none.
“Now,” said the lieutenant, “since Geronimo may take it into his head
to renew his acquaintance with us, it is best to call upon Mendez here
to help us out.”
“The very suggestion I was about to make; how will he do it?”
Mendez and Lieutenant Decker had scouted so much together that they
were familiar with each other’s signals, and no preliminary rehearsal,
therefore, was necessary.
“The captain and I will go back to the stream,” he explained to the
Apache, “and follow the bank some distance. When you have anything to
communicate you will know where to find us. At any rate we will not be
far off.”
“Provided nothing unexpected happens,” Freeman thought best to add.
The scout was a man of few words and only said “Huh!” to signify that
he understood everything. Then, without more ado, he turned the head of
his horse westward and rode off in the darkness.
“That brave fellow takes his life into his hands,” remarked the
lieutenant; “he knows he would receive scant mercy if Geronimo or any
of his band got hold of him.”
“Wherein would he differ from us?” questioned Freeman.
“In no respect, so far as final results are concerned, but they would
punish him frightfully, for it is human nature to detest a renegade, as
he and Cemuri are considered.”
“I don’t know whether it makes him more or less useful, but it seems to
me he must be handicapped in his movements.”
“He doesn’t appear to be; I think if Mendez or Cemuri should become
convinced that there was no possible escape from capture he would shoot
himself.”
“So would I,” said Freeman.
“I wouldn’t, for as long as there’s life there’s hope.”
“I meant when all hope is gone.”
“We may as well make our change of base.”
Side by side the friends rode to the left of the course they had been
following, until they struck the shore of the stream already alluded
to. It seemed broader and shallower than below, but it was a winding
current through the sand, which licked a great deal of water. The
banks were so low and flat that a slight rise of the creek would cause
it to overflow on both sides. No trees or undergrowth being in the
neighborhood, the same difficulty of concealment remained.
When the full moon should rise in the unclouded sky objects would be
discernible for a long way in every direction. While in some respects
this might not be desirable, the two looked upon it as an advantage,
since by diligence and watchfulness, they ought to discover the
approach of an enemy, no matter how stealthily made, or from what point
it came.
It was a cause for self-gratulation that both were so well mounted that
none of their enemies could overtake them in a fair contest of speed.
“It strikes me that as the moon will not show itself for nearly an hour
we may as well dismount. I have been in the saddle so continuously
to-day that the change will be as grateful to me as to my horse.”
“It doesn’t strike me as the wisest thing to do,” replied Freeman,
“though I don’t know that it increases our danger. I will not dismount,
since I have ridden less than you. You won’t leave your horse?”
“No, though he knows my call so well he would come to me at once.”
The lieutenant walked slowly with his steed along the bank of the
stream, for it seemed wiser to shift their position, even if slightly,
so as to prevent the guarded approach of their enemies.
“I wonder whether any of them are in the neighborhood,” he remarked, as
they came to a halt again; “I don’t see how they can be, but there’s no
saying what mischief they are up to. Listen!”
The two were motionless and used their eyes and ears as best they
could. In the gloom it was barely possible to distinguish the opposite
shore, only a few rods distant, while darkness walled them in on every
hand.
The only sound that reached their ears was the soft flow of the stream,
barely distinguishable in the profound stillness. Once they fancied
they heard the report of another gun, but, if so, it was so distant it
could not be identified.
One distressing question pressed upon Maurice Freeman. Ought he to
remain in this lonely place or return to his home a number of miles
distant? His family would not be disturbed over his absence, for he
had occasionally stayed at the fort over night and had been absent
longer at Prescott or Phœnix, but at such times everything was so quiet
that there was no ground for alarm.
He reflected that his wife knew nothing of the threatened raid of the
Apaches, unless it had come to her after his departure from home that
morning. Consequently, in the event of the hostiles making a dash into
that section, she would be wholly unprepared against surprise.
Freeman and his friend Murray had taken an active part in chastising
a party of Apaches some months before, most of them being killed, and
he suspected that revenge might be a factor in inspiring this advance
of Geronimo eastward. If such were the fact, nothing was easier than
for him and his warriors to push on during the darkness, wreak their
vengeance and get away before the sun rose.
The question, put in another form, was whether he and Lieutenant
Decker were accomplishing any good purpose by thus lingering in
the neighborhood with a view of watching and possibly checking the
movements of the hostiles. If the latter were bent on raiding further
eastwards they could make a detour which would carry them to the point
they had in view without the knowledge of the two men, or of Mendez,
who had gone forward to spy out their actions.
The veteran was loath to leave his comrade, but this hesitation was
due to the uncertainty whether it was wiser to do so than to remain.
He was on the point of expressing his misgivings, when a low, soft
whistle sounded on the still night air.
“Sh!” whispered the lieutenant, “that’s Mendez!”