THE NIGHT ATTACK
We must have been squatting for an hour and a half, and the sun was down
close to the top of the draw, behind us, when Fitzpatrick nudged me with
his foot, and nodded. He made the sign of birds flying up and pointed
down the trail, below, us; so that I knew somebody was coming, around a
turn there. (Note 13.) We scarcely breathed. We just sat and watched,
like two mountain lions waiting.
Pretty soon they came riding along--four of them on horseback; we knew
the horses. The fellows were Bill Duane, Mike Delavan, Tony Matthews,
and Bert Hawley. They were laughing and talking because the trail we
made was plain and they thought that we all were pushing right on, and
if they could read sign they would know that the tracks were not extra
fresh.
We let them get out of sight; then we went straight down upon the trail,
and followed, alongside, so as not to step on top of their tracks and
show that we had come after.
We talked only by sign, and trailed slow, because they might be
listening or looking back. We wanted to find where they stopped. At
every turn we sneaked and Fitzpatrick stuck just his head around, to see
that the trail was clear. Suddenly he made sign to me that he saw them;
there were three on horseback, waiting, and one had gone on, walking, to
reconnoiter.
So we had to back-trail until we could make a big circle and strike the
trail on ahead. This wasn't open country here; there were cedars and
pinyons and big rocks. We circuited up and around, out of sight from the
trail, and came in, bending low and walking carefully so as not to crack
sticks, to listen and examine for sign. We found strange tracks--soles
without hob-nails, pointing one way but not coming back. We hid behind a
cedar, and waited. In about fifteen minutes Bill Duane walked right past
us, back to the other fellows.
Now we hurried on, for it was getting dark; and soon we smelled smoke,
and that meant camp. Fitzpatrick (who was a first-class Scout, while I
was only a second) reported to General Ashley the whereabouts of the
enemy.
"Very well," said General Ashley. "Corporal Andrew Henry (that was Tom
Scott) and Second-class Scout Jed Smith (that was Dick Smith) will go
back a quarter of a mile and picket the trail until relieved; the rest
of us will proceed with camp duties."
Major Henry and little Jed Smith set off. We finished establishing camp.
Two holes were dug for camp refuse; that was my business. Places for the
beds were cleared of sticks and things; that was Kit Carson's business.
General Ashley chopped a cedar stump for wood (cedar burns without soot,
you know); and Fitzpatrick cooked. The burros had been unpacked and the
flags planted before Fitzpatrick and I came in. We had to picket the
burros out, to graze, at first, or they might have gone back to town. Of
course, as we were short-handed, we had to do Henry's and Smith's work,
to-night, too: spread the beds before dark and bring water and such
things. (Note 14.)
For supper we had bacon and two cans of the beans and biscuits baked in
a reflector, and coffee. (Note 15.) Major Henry and Jed Smith were not
getting any supper yet, because they were still on picket duty. But when
we were through General Ashley said, "Kit Carson, you and Jim Bridger
relieve Henry and Smith, and tell them to come in to supper."
But just as we stood, to start, Major Henry walked in amongst us. He was
excited, and puffing, and he almost forgot to salute General Ashley, who
was Patrol leader.
"They're planning to come!" he puffed. "I sneaked close to them and
heard 'em talking!"
"Is this meant for a report?" asked General Ashley. And we others
snickered. It wasn't the right way to make a report.
"Yes, sir," answered Henry. "That is, I reconnoitered the enemy's camp,
sir, and they're talking about us."
"What did you hear?"
"They're going to rush us when we're asleep, and scare us."
"Very well," said General Ashley. "But you weren't ordered to do that.
You left your post, sir."
"I thought you'd like to know. They didn't hear me," stammered Major
Henry.
"You'd no business to go, just the same. Orders are orders. Where is
Smith?"
"Watching on picket."
"Did he go, too?"
"No, sir."
"You exceeded orders, and you ought to be court-martialed," said General
Ashley. And he was right, too. "But I'll give you another chance. When
is the enemy going to attack?"
"After we're asleep."
"What is he doing now?"
"Eating and smoking and waiting, down the trail."
"You can have some coffee and beans and bread, while we hold council.
Carson and Bridger can wait a minute."
The council didn't take long. General Ashley's plan was splendid, a joke
and a counter-attack in one. Major Henry ate as much as he could, but he
wasn't filled up when he was sent out again, into the dark, with Kit
Carson. They were ordered to tell Jed Smith to come in, but they were to
go on. You'll see what happened. This double duty was Henry's
punishment.
We cleaned up the camp, and then Jed Smith arrived. While he was eating
we made the beds. We drew up the tarpaulins, over blankets and quilts
rolled so that the beds looked exactly as if we were in them, our feet
to the fire (it was a little fire, of course) and our heads in shadow.
We tied the burros short; and then we went back into the cedars and
pinyons and sat down, quiet.
It wasn't pitchy dark. When the sky is clear it never gets pitchy dark,
in the open; and there was a quarter-moon shining, too. The night was
very still. The breeze just rustled the trees, but we could hear our
hearts beat. Once, about a mile away, a coyote barked like a crazy
puppy. He was calling for company. The stars twinkled down through the
stiff branches, and I tried to see the Great Dipper, but that took too
much squirming around.
We must not say a word, nor even whisper. We must just keep quiet, and
listen and wait. Down the trail poor Major Henry and Kit Carson were
having a harder time of it--but I would have liked to be along.
All of a sudden Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand nudged me gently with his
knuckles, and I nudged Jed Smith, and Jed passed it on, and it went
around from one to the other, so we all knew. Somebody was coming! We
could hear a stick snap, and a little laugh, off in the timber; it
sounded as though somebody had run into a branch. We waited. The enemy
was stealing upon our camp. We hid our faces in our coats and our hands
in our sleeves, so that no white should show. It was exciting, sitting
this way, waiting for the attack.
The gang tiptoed up, carefully, and we could just make out two of them
peering in at the beds. Then they all gave a tremendous yell, like
Indians or mountain lions, and rushed us--or what they thought was us.
They stepped on the beds and kicked at the tinware, and expected to
scare us stiff with the noise--but you ought to have seen how quick they
quit when nothing happened! We didn't pop out of the beds, and run! It
was funny--and I almost burst, trying not to laugh out loud, when they
stood, looking about, and feeling of the beds again.
"They aren't here," said Bill Duane. At a nudge from General Ashley we
had deployed, running low and swift, right and left.
"Poke the fire, so we can see," said Bert Hawley.
One of them did, so the fire blazed up--which was just what we wanted.
Now they were inside and we were outside. They began to talk.
"We'll pile up the camp, anyway."
"They're around somewhere."
"Let's take their burros."
"Take their flags."
Then General Ashley spoke up.
"No, you don't!" he said. "You let those things alone."
That voice, coming out of the darkness around, must have made them jump,
and for a minute they didn't know what to do. Then--
"Why?" asked Bill Duane, kind of defiantly.
"Wait a moment and we'll show you," answered General Ashley.
He whistled loud, our Scouts' signal whistle; and off down the trail
Major Henry or Kit Carson whistled back, and added the whistle that
meant "All right." (Note 16.)
"Hear that?" asked General Ashley. "That means we've got your horses!"
Hurrah! So we had. You see, Major Henry and Kit Carson had been sent
back to watch the enemy's camp; and when the gang had left, on foot, to
surprise us, our two scouts had gone in and captured the horses. We
couldn't help but whoop and yell a little, in triumph. But General
Ashley ordered "Silence!" and we quit.
"Aw, we were just fooling," said Tony Matthews. They talked together,
low, for a few moments; and Bill called: "Come on in. We won't hurt
you."
"Of course you won't," said General Ashley. "But _we_ aren't fooling. We
mean business. We'll keep the horses until you've promised to clear out
and let this camp alone."
"We don't want the horses. Two of 'em are hired and the longer you keep
them the more you'll have to pay." That was a lie. They didn't hire
horses. They borrowed.
"We can sleep here very comfortably, kid," said Mike Delavan.
"You'll not get much sleep in those beds," retorted General Ashley.
"Will they, boys!"
And we all laughed and said "No!"
"And after they've walked ten miles back to town, we'll bring in the
horses and tell how we took them."
The enemy talked together low, again.
"All right," said Bill Duane. "You give us our horses and we'll let the
camp alone."
"Do you promise?" asked General Ashley.
"Yes; didn't I say so?"
"Do you, Mike?"
"Sure; if you return those horses."
"Do you, Tony and Bert?"
"Uh huh."
That was the best way--to make each promise separately; for some one of
them might have claimed that he hadn't promised with the rest.
"Then go on down the trail, and you'll find the horses where you left
them."
"How do we know?"
"On the honor of a Scout," said General Ashley. "We won't try any
tricks, and don't you, for we'll be watching you until you start for
town."
They grumbled back, and with Bill Duane in the lead stumbled for the
trail. General Ashley whistled the signal agreed upon, for Major Henry
and Kit Carson to tie the horses and to withdraw. We might have followed
the enemy; but we would have risked dividing our forces too much and
leaving the camp. We were safer here.
So we waited, quiet; and after a time somebody signaled with the whistle
of the patrol. It was Kit Carson.
"They've gone, sir," he reported, when General Ashley called him.
"What did they say?"
"They're mad; but they're going into town and they'll get back at us
later."
"You saw them start, did you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Where's Henry?"
"Waiting to see if they turn or anything."
"They won't. They know we'll be ready for them. Shall we move camp, or
post sentries, boys?"
We voted to post sentries. It seemed an awful job to move camp, at this
time of night, and make beds over again, and all that. It was only ten
o'clock by General Ashley's watch, but it felt later. So we built up the
fire, and set some coffee on, and called Major Henry in, and General
Ashley and Jed Smith took the first spell of two hours; then they were
to wake up Fitzpatrick and me, for the next two hours; and Major Henry
and Kit Carson would watch from two till four, when it would be growing
light. But we didn't have any more trouble that night.