soil with us into two or three feet of water, to make a difficult
scramble up the crumbling wall of the opposite side; and as we neared
the pueblo, the louder grew the discordant yells of the Dominicans.
As I reached the border of the plantation I found between me and the
road, which here entered the town, a cactus hedge about five feet
high, with no passage through it except at a considerable distance to
the right. The agent veered away to the opening, but Corporal Frank
kept Sancho close behind me, and I gave my good thoroughbred his head
and rode sharply at the hedge, cleared it at a bound, receiving but a
few scratches from the cactus spines. Turning my head as I came into
the road, I saw Frank come through like a trooper and join me.
Clear of the hedge, I found myself at the foot of a narrow street
which passed between two tall adobe buildings and entered the plaza
near the centre of its western side. I took it at a run, and when
half-way through saw directly before its inner end, facing the north,
a group of old, gray-haired Navajos standing alone with their arms
folded, and holding their blankets firmly about their breasts, while
in their immediate front were some one hundred mounted Indians,
painted and ornamented in true aboriginal warrior style.
On the terraced fronts of the houses and their flat roofs, and along
the three sides of the square, seemed to be gathered the entire
population of the town, looking passively on.
Before I had more than taken in the situation, a rattling discharge of
rifles came from the direction of the Dominicans, and the old men fell
in a heap to the ground. Covered with dust and mud, our horses reeking
with foam, Corporal Frank and I burst through the crowd of spectators
on the west side of the plaza, and gained the open space just as the
firing-party was advancing with gleaming knives and wild yells to
complete the tragedy by scalping the slain.
Raising my right hand I shouted, in Spanish, "Stop where you are!"
Frank had unslung his carbine and was holding it by the small of the
stock in his right hand, the barrel resting in his left, looking
calmly and resolutely at the hesitating Indians. The blood of three
generations of soldierly ancestors was thrilling his veins with a
resolution to act well in any emergency which might arise.
The Pueblos halted, and at the same moment a group of eighteen women
and nearly three times as many children, some of them in arms, who had
been reserved--as I afterwards learned--for later shooting, ran into
the space and clung to my feet, stirrups, and the mane and tail of my
horse, entreating with eyes and voices for protection.
The war-cries had ceased and the Dominicans had gathered in an angry
and gesticulating group, when Sergeant Cunningham and the rest of the
men appeared on foot, running into the plaza from a side street, and
formed in line before us.
The massacre ended with the death of the old men. Aided by the agent
and the Catholic priest of the pueblo I succeeded in impressing upon
the Jemez warriors that they must discountenance any further hostile
demonstrations of the Santo Dominicans, and told the latter that
unless they promptly withdrew and departed for their own reservation I
should punish them for their recent conduct. They at once sullenly
departed.
That evening, by the light of a brilliant moon, the dead Navajos were
buried upon a hill-top overlooking the town, amid the wailing of their
women and much ceremonious demonstration by the Jemez people, and
Frank and I retired for the night to the house of the hospitable
priest.
Early the following morning I held an inspection of the mules and
horses, and finding the wheel and swing spans were much exhausted by
the unaccustomed gait they had maintained in the forced march from the
valleys, I determined to give them a day's rest before making the
return trip. Finding Sergeant Cunningham's, Frank's, and my own horses
none the worse for their exertions, I concluded that we three would
return at once to camp. I placed Corporal Duffy in charge of the
party, and told him after one day had passed to return by way of the
hot springs.
Instead of returning by the route we came, the sergeant, Frank, and I
were to take a shorter and rougher one pointed out to us by Padre
Gutierrez. This trail was almost as straight as an arrow, but led
through a section of the country over which we had not scouted. At
half-past nine o'clock the three of us started, Vic bounding and
barking at my horse's head.
IV
IN A NAVAJO TRAP
Six miles from Jemez our road, which, after leaving the cultivated
valley of the Pueblos had narrowed to a path, entered the forest and
ran along the side of a small brook, which it continued to follow for
several miles, and then rose gradually to the side of a range of
hills. We were walking our animals along the side of this acclivity,
at a considerable distance above the brook on our left, their hoofs
making no noise in the soft, black earth, when I was startled by the
braying of an ass somewhere in the ravine.
Sergeant Cunningham and Corporal Frank threw themselves quickly from
their saddles and held the horses by the bits to prevent them from
responding to the greeting, and I quickly sought a place from which I
could make an observation.
We were in a clump of evergreen trees which commanded a view of the
ravine and obscured us from sight in all directions. Looking across
the ravine, I caught a glimpse of a party of Indians a little beyond
the brook. Through my glass I made them out to be a party of
twenty-seven Navajos, sitting about a camp-fire eating their dinner.
As many ponies were grazing near, and a mule and burro. From certain
peculiar markings I had observed the day Cordova joined me in the
valleys, I had no difficulty in recognizing the last two animals to be
his property. Packs were lying near the fire, showing that the
captured animals were being used as beasts of burden.
All this time I had entirely overlooked the presence of my dog Vic.
Had I thought of her in season, it would have been easy to have kept
her close at my heels; but I had left her free to wander, not thinking
of any threatening danger.
Suddenly I heard a chorus of grunts from the Indians, and looking in
their direction I saw Vic stand for an instant with her forefeet on a
prostrate log, look questioningly at the savages, and then drop down
into the furze and disappear.
The sight of a white man's dog, wearing a brilliant metallic collar,
produced an electrical effect. Instantly the redmen sprang to their
feet, seized their arms, and began saddling and bridling their ponies.
"Vic has betrayed us, sergeant," I said. "We must get out of here as
quickly as possible."
As we sprang into our saddles and regained the trail Vic came with a
bound before us, and I immediately gave her positive orders to keep
close at our heels. We rode as fast as it was possible to do without
making a noise, hoping that we might get a considerable distance away
before we were discovered. We had not proceeded far, however, when a
yell announced that we were seen.
As we galloped on we saw that it was impossible for the Indians to
cross to our side of the ravine. Every mile we passed the path rose
higher and the sides of the stream grew more precipitous. The Indians
were pursuing a path parallel to ours and about half a mile in our
rear. What was the nature of the country ahead we did not know. The
fact that they were pursuing, and with such eagerness, seemed to
indicate they knew of some advantage to be gained farther on.
On and on we rode, I in advance, the sergeant next, and Frank behind.
The trail wound through the trees and clumps of underbrush, with
occasional openings through which we could catch glimpses of our eager
pursuers. The prospect appeared exceedingly gloomy.
As we galloped on I noticed at last, through a rift in the wood a
considerable distance in advance, an eminence or butte which lifted
its summit nearly three hundred feet skyward, and which presented on
the side towards us an almost perpendicular wall. When we approached
it we saw a neat log-cabin nestling under its overarching brow. We
dismounted, led our panting and utterly exhausted animals into the
cabin, closed the doors, and went to the windows with our rifles.
The cabin was about thirty by twenty feet in area, and stood with its
northern end close against the perpendicular wall of the butte, with
an overhanging cliff a hundred feet above it. If a stone had been
dropped from the sheltering cliff it would have fallen several feet
away from the cabin's southern wall.
At the end of the cabin farthest from the butte the ground upon which
it stood broke off perpendicularly twenty feet downward, to a
spring--the source of the brook we had been following since we left
Jemez. The only way to cross from one trail to the other, except by
going several miles down the brook or to the north end of the butte,
was, therefore, through the cabin, and for this purpose a door had
been placed in each side. The cabin could be approached only on the
east and west sides, and was unassailable at its north and south ends.
Each wall contained a small window, except the one which rested
against the butte, and there a wide, stone fireplace had been built.
Three men with plenty of rations and ammunition could make a good
defence. Water could be had by lowering a bucket or canteen from the
southern window to the spring, twenty-four feet below its sill.
The Indians had discovered that we had found shelter from their
pursuit and for the present were safe, and all but five, who soon
afterwards appeared in the edge of the forest to the east, had joined
the main party to the west of us. They showed great respect for our
place of refuge and rifles, and kept well out of range. The
sergeant's and my Springfield rifle could throw a bullet farther and
could be loaded more rapidly than any rifles in their possession, and
Frank with his Spencer could fire about twenty balls to our one.
We removed the saddles and bridles from our animals, and, hitching
them in the corners each side of the fireplace, began a discussion of
our prospects.
"If we could keep a couple of fires going before the doors during the
night, sir," said the sergeant, "we might keep them away."
"I am afraid a fire would be of greater advantage to them than to us,"
I replied; "we should have to expose ourselves every time we
replenished it. I wonder if the roof is covered with earth? It is
flat."
"I'll tell you in half a minute, sir," said Frank, and entering the
fireplace he proceeded to ascend the wide-mouthed chimney by stepping
on projecting stones of which it was built. In a moment he called down
to me, "Yes, sir; it is covered with about two feet of earth."
"All right then. If we can get pine enough to keep a blaze going then
we will have one. A fire on the roof will illuminate everything about
us and leave our windows and doorways in darkness. It will aid our aim
and confuse the Indians."
We set to work at once and pulled down all the bunks, and with large
stones from the fireplace succeeded in breaking into fragments the
pine puncheons and posts of which they were made. Then Sergeant
Cunningham ascended the chimney and tore away one side of the part
which projected above the roof--the side looking in the direction
opposite the precipice. This would enable one of us to stand in the
top and replenish the fire, and at the same time remain concealed from
the enemy. As we could be fired upon from only two directions, the
fire tender would be safe.
Fortunately, Padre Gutierrez's housekeeper had put up a lunch
sufficient to last us, including Vic, for three days, and water could
be drawn easily through the southern window with a canteen and lariat.
"I'm afraid those chaps 'll get us in the end, sir," observed the
sergeant. "Of course we can eat horse-meat for a while after our
victuals are gone, but we are three and they are twenty-seven--we are
prisoners and they are free."
"Very true, sergeant," I replied, "but something may turn up in our
favor. The Jemez party will reach camp day after to-morrow, and when
it learns we are not there we shall be looked up."
"If another party of Navajos don't jump them, sir."
"Of course, the chances are against us, sergeant, but let us keep up
our spirits and make a good fight."
"I'll do my best, sir, as I always have done, but this is a beastly
hole to be caught in."
"But why don't you send Vic for help, Mr. Duncan?" asked Frank.
"Laddie, I believe you have saved us! Thank you for the suggestion.
We'll put the little girl's education to a practical test."
"What! Going to send her to Jemez for the men?" asked Sergeant
Cunningham.
"No; I hardly think I could make her understand our wishes in that
direction, but there is no doubt she can be sent to camp. She has done
that many times."
"Yes, sir, she'll go to the valley," said Frank. "You know I sent her
with a message to you from San Antonio Valley, six miles. I wonder how
far camp is from here?"
"'Bout nine miles," replied the sergeant; "but she'll do it, I think.
Look at her!"
Vic had come forward, and sat looking intelligently from one to the
other of us while this discussion ran on.
"All right, little girl," I said, patting and smoothing her silky
coat, "you shall have a chance to help us after dusk. Go and lie down
now."
The dog went to a corner and, lying down on Frank's saddle-blanket,
appeared to sleep; and while Corporal Frank took my place at a window
I wrote a message to Sergeant Mulligan at the camp, describing our
desperate situation and requesting him to send a detachment to our
rescue. I also prepared a flat, pine stick, and wrote upon it, in
plain letters, "Examine her collar." I intended she should carry the
stick in her mouth, as she had hitherto carried articles and messages,
fearing she would not understand she was to go on an errand unless all
the conditions of her education were observed.
During that day the Navajos simply showed their presence occasionally
among the trees, far away on either flank. We once heard the rapid
strokes of an axe, as of chopping, and wondered what it could mean.
Nothing further happened till dusk. Then I called Vic and attached the
note to her collar, wrapped in a piece of my handkerchief.
"I think, sergeant," I said, "we had better send our message before it
gets darker and the Navajos close up nearer or the corporal lights his
fire."
"Yes, she can't leave any too soon, sir, I think. It's going to be
pokerish work for us before morning, and I shall be mighty glad to see
a few of old Company F appear round that rock."
After fastening the note securely in the dog's collar, I placed the
stick in her mouth and, opening the eastern door, said, "Now, little
Vic, take that stick to the sergeant--go!"
She turned from the doorway, crossed the room, and dropped the stick
at Sergeant Cunningham's feet. The sergeant stooped, and placing his
hand under her chin raised her head upward and laid his bronze cheek
affectionately upon it. "Well, Vicky," he said, "there is but one
sergeant in the world to you, and he is here, isn't he?"
"That's so, sir," exclaimed Corporal Frank, addressing me. "We never
sent her to anybody but you, the sergeant, and the cook."
"True enough. I'll have to send her to the cook--the only one now in
camp to whom she has borne messages. As he is the dispenser of fine
bones and dainties, and she has had nothing to eat since morning,
perhaps it is as well he is to receive this message. Here, Vic,"
placing the chip once more in her mouth, "take this stick to the
cook--go!"
The setter looked at me an instant, then at the sergeant and corporal,
walked to the door, looked out, and then glanced questioningly at me.
"Yes, little one; the cook--go!"
She bounded through the doorway and turned the corner of the butte at
a run, bearing our summons to our comrades at Los Valles Grandes.
For some time after the departure of Vic the sergeant and I stood at
our windows and gloomily watched the darkness deepen in the woods.
Frank looked out of the window above the spring and was also silent.
I was disposed to put off the lighting of our fire upon the roof as
long as it appeared safe to do so, in order to husband our fuel. The
animals, disappointed of the forage usually furnished them at this
hour, stamped impatiently and nosed disdainfully the stale straw and
pine plumes which we had emptied from the bunks and which were now
scattered over the floor.
It was during a momentary lull of this continuous noise that I heard a
crushing sound as of a heavy wheel rolling over twigs and gravel, but
was unable to guess its meaning.
Fearing that further delay to light our fire might bring disaster upon
us, I told Corporal Frank to kindle it. He ascended the chimney,
lighted a few splinters of pitch-pine and placed them upon the roof,
and as soon as they were well lighted added to them half a dozen
billets of wood which Sergeant Cunningham passed up to him. Soon a
brilliant blaze was leaping upward, and, being reflected strongly by
the white sandstone of the overhanging cliff, lighted the whole space
about the cabin.
As soon as Frank descended to the floor we gazed long and anxiously
out of the windows. Everything about us was now plainly visible to our
eyes, and we felt sure our movements could not be seen by the Navajos.
To the east all was silent, and for a long while we saw nothing in
that direction to suggest a lurking foe. To the west we could see no
enemy, but the same mysterious sound of crushing and grinding came to
our ears. What could it be, and what did it threaten? Adjusting my
field-glass I looked from my window in the direction of the puzzling
sound, and on the farther edge of the opening, near the wood, saw a
log about three feet in diameter and twenty-five or more in length
slowly rolling towards us, propelled by some unseen force.
Passing the glass to the sergeant, I said: "The Indians seem to be
rolling a log in our direction. What do you think of it?"
"I think it's easy to understand, sir," replied the sergeant, after a
long look. "That log is a movable breastwork, which can be rolled to
our door."
"True, sergeant. Probably a dozen or more warriors are lying behind it
and rolling it forward. Rather a black prospect for us if we cannot
stop it!"
We all three gathered at the western window, and for some moments
watched the slow approach of the moving breastwork.
V
A SIEGE AND AN AMBUSCADE
We continued to watch long and anxiously the slowly rolling log. Not a
glimpse of the motive power could be obtained, but it ground and
crushed its way along with ominous certainty, straight in our
direction.
Just as I had come to the conclusion that assistance could not arrive
in time, the log stopped. I looked through my glass and saw the cause.
"Sergeant," I exclaimed, "the log has struck a rock! Open the door and
draw a bead on it! Don't let a man leap over it to remove the stone!
Corporal, guard the east window!"
The sergeant stood ready at the open door. All the efforts of the
prostrate men behind the log had no effect, except to swing the end
farthest from the obstacle slightly ahead.
"There seems to be nothing for them to do but to remove the stone.
Keep a sharp eye on the log, sergeant!"
I had hardly spoken when a sudden discharge of rifles ran irregularly
along the length of the log, and under cover of the fire and smoke a
stalwart warrior leaped over, raised the stone, and had borne it
nearly to the top, when Sergeant Cunningham's rifle spoke sharply.
The stone dropped on our side; the Indian fell forward, with his arms
extended towards his friends, who pulled him over the log, and he was
screened from our sight. The volley of the Navajos did us no harm.
Corporal Frank replenished the fire on our roof from time to time, and
our vigilant watch went on. At last the sergeant, who still stood at
the open door, exclaimed, "Lieutenant, the stone is moving! It's
dropping into the ground!"
"It's gone, and here comes our fate," I said. "They must have dug
under the log with their knives and sunk the stone."
"Yes, sir, and they're safe to reach the cabin door and roast us out."
"If there were two or three more stones in the way, sergeant, the
delay they would cause might serve us until help comes."
"I'll run out there with one, Mr. Duncan," said Frank.
"No, laddie," replied the sergeant, "that's a duty for me. I'll drop a
couple there in a minute."
"And when you return, sergeant, I will drop two more," said I.
We went quickly to work to carry out our plan. The corporal once more
mended the fire, and then we selected from the loose rubbish which had
been torn from the top of the chimney several large-sized stones.
Removing his shoes, the sergeant, with my assistance, raised two big
stones to his breast, and stood in the doorway with them clasped
firmly in his arms. I took the revolvers in my hands, whispered the
word, and he started out at a rapid walk, setting his feet down
carefully and without noise. He dropped the stones, one before the
other, without attracting attention, and regained the cabin without a
shot being fired on either side.
Now it was my turn, and I went beyond the place where he had dropped
his last stone.
At that instant an alarm was shouted from the distant wood, and an
Indian raised his head above the log and fired. The bullet struck the
falling rock, and sent a shower of stinging splinters into my face. I
turned and fled.
With the discharge of the Indian's rifle Sergeant Cunningham and
Corporal Frank opened a rapid fusillade with the revolvers, which
successfully covered my retreat to the cabin; but we knew that our
last chance at stone-dropping was past.
Several terribly long hours had crept past since we saw Vic turn the
butte on her errand to the valleys. Judging by the time it had taken
the Navajos to bore a tunnel under their log and undermine the first
trigging-stone, we estimated that two more hours must pass before the
four obstructions we had placed in their way could be removed, unless
they took some more speedy method.
It was quite nine miles to camp, and the dog could easily reach it in
about an hour. If she had arrived, help should by this time be fairly
on the way; but if she had been killed by the besiegers before she
reached the north end of the butte, or had been torn in pieces by the
wolves!
Should the log once reach our door, we could not hope to do more than
make the price of our lives dear to the enemy.
While the sergeant and I stood at the door and window, speculating in
no very hopeful vein over these probabilities, there came a scratch at
the eastern door. Frank was at the window on that side, and, startled
by the sound, he called to us, "I'm afraid an Indian has sneaked up on
us, sir."
Again the scratching was heard, this time accompanied by a familiar
whine, which presently swelled into a low bark.
"Oh, Mr. Duncan, it's Vic! It's Vic!" shouted the boy, and, springing
to the door, he flung it wide open.
In trotted Vic, and, coming up to me, she dropped a stick at my feet
bearing the words: "In the collar, as before."
It took some little time for Corporal Frank to secure the messenger.
She capered about the room, licked our hands and faces, jumped up to
the noses of the ponies, and behaved as if she was conscious of
having performed a great feat and was overjoyed to have returned
safely.
But Vic surrendered to the boy at last, and, submitting her neck for
inspection, he found attached to her collar a letter which read as
follows:
"CAMP AT LOS VALLES GRANDES.
"_November 20, 1863_.
"Lieutenant,--Message received, and the messenger fed.
Corporal Coffey and eight men leave here at 10.15 P.M.
"JAMES MULLIGAN, _Sergeant_."
"Come here, little doggie," said Sergeant Cunningham. "If we get out
of this, the company shall pay for a silver collar and a medal of
honor for the finest dog in the army."
"If that detail marches at the regulation gait of three miles an
hour," I said, "it should be here by a quarter-past one, and it is now
a quarter to twelve."
My anxiety over our prospects was so great I neglected to show proper
gratitude to our devoted messenger.
"The men will do better than that, sir, if they keep on the road. The
trouble will be in finding this trail. They have never been this
way."
"I think the junction of this and the hot-springs trail cannot be far
from here. Let's take a shot at that log every three minutes from now
on, and the noise may attract our friends."