_WAITING THE ONSLAUGHT._
THE rain ceased as suddenly as it began, and the sun shone down on us as
warm as on the day before. We worked rapidly till nightfall, and a few
hours’ labor in the morning brought us to a stream swollen by the late
rain, flowing beside a small open savanna, which was bordered on one
hand by trees and shrubs. A wooded peninsula ran out into the water, and
beside the stream rose a gentle elevation crowned by thick woods.
“This is the place Sam picked out,” said Stone, looking at it with an
air of recognition. “There couldn’t be a better place for our purpose.
The Kiowas are so hidden you might try hard and not find the least trace
of them, yet I know they see us perfectly. The savanna is covered with a
growth that makes it easy for the Apache spies to conceal themselves and
follow us unseen. Then look at the open plain of grass leading here. A
camp-fire burning on it will light all the savanna, and hide the
Apaches, so they can easily come upon us.”
His lean, weather-beaten face gleamed with satisfaction, but the head
engineer did not share the feeling. He shook his head, saying: “What is
the matter with you? Do you mean to say you rejoice that we can be so
easily overcome? I tell you it’s far from pleasant to me; I am paralyzed
at the mere thought.”
“The surer to fall into the hands of the Apaches,” cried Stone. “Don’t
let such feelings get hold of you, Mr. Bancroft. Of course I’m glad, for
the easier the Apaches can overtake us, the easier we can capture them.
Just look here. Over there on the heights are the Kiowas in the midst of
the woods. Their spies sit in the highest trees, and have surely seen us
coming, and in the same way they’ll see the Apaches, for they can look
all across the savanna.”
“Well, what earthly good will it do us, if we’re overtaken, to have the
Kiowas look across the savanna?”
“Don’t you see? They stay there only because here the Apaches would see
them. As soon as their scouts have come and gone the Kiowas will come
over to us, hide on the peninsula, and we’ll put our horses at its neck,
for then the Apaches will keep off it, as the horses would neigh if they
went near them, and give us warning. The Apaches will hide, and wait
till we’re asleep—”
“Suppose they shouldn’t wait?” I interrupted.
“That wouldn’t be dangerous for us,” he replied. “The Kiowas would come
to our assistance at once.”
“But then there’d be bloodshed, which we want to avoid.”
“Yes, but here in the West a drop of blood doesn’t count. Don’t worry;
the Apaches are sure to wait, for they know that if awake we’d defend
ourselves, and though we’d get the worst of it, still some of them would
be sure to get killed, and they value their blood as highly as we do
ours. Therefore they’ll wait till we lie down to sleep; then we’ll let
the fire go out, and go over to the island.”
Now that we were on the scene of action, and the hour was so near, I was
greatly perturbed in mind. I was not afraid, but I was anxious,
apprehensive of the result, and worried as to the fate of Winnetou, of
whom I had thought so much during the past few days that he had grown
near and dear to me, although he was still my enemy; and it must have
been a kind of mental telepathy, for I learned later that he had been
thinking continuously of me. Since the encounter could not be avoided, I
wished it might come soon and be over with; and this wish was to be
fulfilled.
It was a little short of mid-day when we saw Sam Hawkins returning. The
little man was weary, but his eyes gleamed with unusual fire.
“All’s well?” I asked. “But I see it is, dear old Sam.”
“Do you?” he laughed. “Where is it written, on my nose or in your
imagination?”
“No one who sees your eyes can doubt it.”
“So my eyes betray me; that’s good to know for another time. But you’re
right; everything is really better than I could have hoped.”
“Have you seen the spies?”
“Seen the spies! I’ve not only seen ’em, but I’ve seen the whole band;
and not only seen ’em, but heard and watched ’em.”
“Watched them! Then tell us, quick, what you’ve discovered.”
“Gather up your instruments, and go into camp while I go over to the
Kiowas to tell them what their part is to be. I’ll be back pretty soon.”
He sprang across the stream, and disappeared into the woods, while we
packed up our instruments, and went back to camp to await his coming. We
neither saw nor heard him till he stood among us, saying: “Here I am, my
lords; haven’t you eyes and ears? Now that shows you how you can get
close to men without their knowing it; and that’s the way I did
yesterday with the Apaches.”
“Tell us; tell us.”
“You shall hear; but I must sit down, for I’m pretty tired. My bones are
used to riding, and don’t enjoy walking any more; besides, it’s grander
to belong to the cavalry than to the infantry.”
He sat down near me, and then said, nodding his head positively: “We’ll
have the ball to-night.”
“To-night!” I echoed, half shocked, half glad. “That’s good.”
“H’m! you seem to be in a hurry to fall into the hands of the Apaches.
However, you’re right; it is good, and I’m glad, too, that we won’t have
to wait any longer. It’s no fun waiting when you don’t know how a thing
will turn out.”
“Don’t know! Is there any reason for anxiety?”
“Not a bit; on the contrary, I’m certain everything will go well. But
any man of experience knows that the best child may grow up bad, the
finest plans take a wrong turn from some unforeseen cause.”
“Well, do tell us what you heard. Hurry up.”
“Softly, softly, my young sir; everything in order. I can’t tell you
what I heard, because you must first know how I heard it. When I went
out in the rain from here I went back to where we were camping when the
two Apaches came to us, and had to hide at once, for there were three
redskins sniffing around. Apache spies, says I to myself; and so they
were. They surveyed the premises without coming on my trail, and sat
down under the trees where it was dry to wait for their chiefs, and I
had to wait, too, two long hours. At last came a mounted band, led by
Intschu-Tschuna and Winnetou.”
“How many were there?”
“Just as I expected, about fifty men. The spies went out to meet them,
and after a few words with their chiefs went on ahead, the braves
following slowly. You may imagine, gentlemen, that Sam Hawkins followed
after them. The rain had washed out ordinary tracks, but the broad trail
of your camp was plain; I wish I might always have a trail as easy to
follow. But the Indians wanted to be very sure, for they peered into
every nook and corner and behind every bush, and made such slow progress
that darkness came on after we had gone only about two miles, and they
dismounted and made their camp.”
“And did you creep up to them there?”
“Yes; like wise fellows they made no fire, but Sam Hawkins, being
equally wise, thought that served him as well as them. So I crawled
under the trees, and wriggled forward on my stomach till I got near
enough to hear what they were saying. Their words were brief but to the
point. It is as we expected: they want to capture us alive.”
“And not kill us?”
“Not all at once. They want to take us to the Mascaleros village at Rio
Pecos, where we are to be tortured and die a living death, like carp
taken out of the water and put into a pond to fatten. I wonder what kind
of flesh old Sam’s would make, especially if they put me into the pan in
my leather hunting-jacket.”
He laughed in his silent, inward fashion, and added: “They’ve got their
eye on Mr. Rattler there, sitting as still as if heaven, with all the
saints, were waiting for him. Yes, Rattler, they’ve got a banquet ready
for you that I wouldn’t care to sit down to. You’re to be spitted,
impaled, poisoned, smothered, shot, broken on a wheel, and hanged, each
done a little more beautifully than the other, and only a taste of each
that you may be kept alive a long time and have the full benefit of all
the torture and anguish of death. And if after all you shouldn’t be
quite dead, you’re to be laid in the grave of Kleki-Petrah, whom you
murdered, and buried alive.”
“Merciful Heaven! did they say that?” gasped Rattler, his face blanched
with terror.
“That’s what they said, and you deserve it. I only hope if you do escape
you’ll be half decent in the future; and I guess you will be, for the
body of Kleki-Petrah will be a strong medicine for you.”
“Where is the main band of the Apaches which is out against the Kiowas?”
I asked.
“I don’t know; nothing was said of that. It doesn’t matter to us.”
Little Sam was mistaken in that; it was far from unimportant to us where
this band was, as we discovered in a few days.
Sam continued: “As I had heard enough, I should have come back to you at
once; but it was dark, and I couldn’t see the trail till dawn, so I
waited. I stayed all night hidden in the wood, and my legs were almost
broken. I was six miles from here, and I had to go out of my way to get
back unseen. And that is all I have to tell you.”
“But you said you were going to show yourself to them.”
“I know, and I should have done so, only—hark! did you hear anything?”
The scream of an eagle, thrice repeated, came from the woods.
“That’s the Kiowa spies,” he said. “They are over there in the trees. I
told them to give me this sign when they saw the Apaches on the savanna.
Come, sir; we’ll try what sort of eyes you have.”
This invitation was addressed to me. Sam rose to go, and I took my gun
to follow him.
“Hold on,” he said. “Leave that gun here. It’s true the frontiersman
should never go out without his weapons, but this is an exception,
because we must not seem to have any suspicion of danger. We’ll appear
to be gathering wood to make our fire, and the Apaches will conclude we
are going to stay here all night.”
We sauntered out, apparently wandering carelessly in and out among the
trees and bushes, breaking off the dry branches. We strained our eyes,
but could discover no one; yet later I learned from Winnetou himself
that fifty feet at most away from us he was hidden behind a bush
watching us. We gathered more wood for the camp-fire than we needed, for
Sam wanted enough in reserve to enable the Apaches to kindle the fire
quickly when they discovered we were gone.
Darkness fell, and we gathered in the camp for the eventful night. Sam,
as the most experienced, sat at the end of the grassy plain nearest the
savanna, where he could see the coming of the spies for whom we were
waiting, knowing they could not be far off. The fire blazed up, lighting
the plain and the savanna. How foolish and inexperienced the Apaches
must think us! This great fire was the very thing to guide an enemy to
us from afar. We ate our supper, and lounged about as if we were far
from suspecting any danger. The guns lay at some distance back of us
towards the peninsula, ready to be seized by us later in our flight.
Three hours after dark Sam stepped back to us and said softly: “The
spies are coming; two, one on this, one on that side. I heard and saw
them.” Then he sat down with us, and began to talk in a loud voice on
the first subject that occurred to him. We answered, and kept up a
conversation intended to show the spies how secure we felt. We knew that
they were there watching us, but by a strong effort we kept ourselves
from glancing towards the bushes concealing them.
The most important thing now was to know when they had gone. We could
neither hear nor see anything, and yet we dared not waste a moment after
their departure, for in a short time the whole band would be upon us,
and in that interval the Kiowas must come over from the peninsula. Hence
it was best not to wait until they had withdrawn, but to force them out.
So Sam rose as if he were going to get more wood, and went into the
bushes on one side, while I took the other.
We were now sure that the spies were gone. Sam put one hand to his mouth
and thrice imitated the croaking of a bull-frog. This was the signal for
the Kiowas to come; it would not be noticed by the Apaches, as we were
beside the stream. Sam then resumed his office of watchman to warn us of
the approach of the whole body of the enemy.
About two minutes after the signal was given the Kiowas came over, in
close single file—a long line of two hundred warriors. They had not
waited in the woods, but had come down to the bank to be ready for the
signal, and on receiving it had instantly sprung across the stream. They
crawled behind us in our shadow like snakes, lying close to the ground,
near the peninsula. This was done so quickly and silently that in three
minutes, at the most, the last one had joined us. In a short time Sam
came and whispered to us: “They’re coming on both sides. Don’t put on
any more wood; we must let the fire die down, and take care that an
ember is left for the Indians to kindle another.”
We piled what wood we had left around the fire, so that no light would
fall upon our retreat. After this was done each of us had to be more or
less an actor. We knew that fifty Apaches were close to us, yet that we
must not betray our knowledge by the slightest sign. We expected them to
wait until we were asleep; but what if they did not wait, but fell upon
us at once? Of course we had two hundred allies in the Kiowas, but in
that case there would be a bloody struggle that might easily cost some
of us our lives.
The time had come, and it was interesting to watch the various effects
it produced on my comrades. Rattler lay face downward on the ground as
if asleep, the fear of death gripping his heart with an icy hand. His
trusty friends glanced at one another with blanched faces; they could
not utter a word to help on our forced conversation. Will Parker and
Dick Stone sat there as calmly as if there were no such thing as an
Apache in the world. Sam Hawkins made jokes, and I laughed in spite of
myself at his nonsense. For now that the danger was upon us I was as
calm as if we were about to play a game of whist. And so we waited.
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