latest military tactics appear to be modelled on theirs."
Although this section of our journey was but twenty-five miles long,
our rate of progress had been so slow that the day was nearly closed
when we came in sight of the lines of cottonwoods that bordered Date
Creek. We turned at last sharply to the left, and began a descent
through a narrow ravine towards the creek. We were nearing its
widening mouth when a half-dozen sharp reports of fire-arms broke upon
our ears. A halt was ordered and the men directed to prevent the
animals from betraying our presence by whinnying or braying. Telling
Sergeant Henry to remain behind and keep Vic with him, I went in
advance with Sergeant Frank.
"What do you think is going on?" asked my companion, as several more
reports rang out.
"What I feared; the Apaches are attacking the men who went out to
bring in the dead and wounded men at Soldiers' Holes."
"And if Mr. Hudson was not the wounded man there, I suppose he is sure
to be in this scrape. Why not rush in with the escort and frighten
them away?"
"They may be too many for us," I answered, "and it will be prudent to
learn the situation at the ranch before we go nearer. I want to join
the white men without the Indians' knowledge, if possible."
"If Mr. Hudson is not dead, he must know we are here."
"He may be there, and the men may know we are on the road, but it
certainly does not look like it."
"Can't Vic be sent with a message?"
"No; she will not take a message to a stranger."
We had now reached a point from which we could see a log cabin, a
stable, and an open shed or tool-house. On the side of the buildings
towards us, as if screening themselves from an enemy in the opposite
direction, were a few men.
"If you would like me to, sir, I can crawl to the house without being
seen," said Frank. "That cart, wagon, oven, and stack will screen me."
"Yes, you can do it easily. Tell Mr. Hopkins that we are
here--seventeen, counting you two boys--and to make no demonstration
when we close up. I will explain a plan to him which, I think, will
enable us to teach the Apaches a lesson. If you find Mr. Hudson there,
tell him to show himself at a window or door."
XIII
THE BOY SERGEANTS DO GOOD SERVICE
Frank dropped flat upon the earth and worked his way to the cabin
without being seen. Instantly I received a signal from Mr. Hopkins
through a back window, and a moment later Mr. Hudson looked out of a
back door and raised his hat. I was glad to see that his college
career was still a possibility.
Hurrying back to the ambulance, I caused the animals to be grouped in
charge of the driver and two soldiers, and with the rest of the detail
moved in the direction of the ranch buildings.
It had become so dark that we might possibly have passed over the open
space without being seen, but, for fear of accidents, we covered it,
as Frank had done, on all fours. The first persons I met when I rose
to a vertical position were Hudson and Frank, who took me to Mr.
Hopkins. The ranchman greeted me with the assurance that the arrival
of my party was a godsend, and had probably saved their scalps.
I learned that the men at Date Creek, including the mail-carrier,
numbered seven; that three were in the stable and four in the house.
These buildings were the same distance from the stream, and fifty feet
apart. The bank of the creek was perpendicular for a mile either way,
standing fully twelve feet above the surface of the water; but there
was a notch with a sloping descent, midway between the buildings, down
which the live-stock was driven to water. This slope offered the only
practicable point of attack, unless the Indians chose to move by one
of our flanks over a long level.
Mr. Hopkins said he had crept out to the shrubbery on the edge of the
precipitous river-bank, to the left of the slope, just before my
arrival, and had seen on the opposite shore a small party of men
moving through the willow branches towards our left. He believed it
was a flanking-party, intending to make a feint from that direction
and enable the main body to charge through the notch in the bank.
Believing the repelling force to be but seven, the Indians were quite
sure of success.
I was convinced that Mr. Hopkins's inferences were correct; but in
order that no mistake should be made, I sent two veterans in frontier
service, Privates Clary and Hoey, to reconnoitre both flanks. They
were gone half an hour, and returned with the information that no
demonstration was being made towards our right, but that a dozen or
more men had gathered on the opposite shore, at a point where they
could cross and turn our left flank.
Preparations to meet this movement were begun at once. Sergeant Frank
was sent to the ambulance with orders for the men in charge to bring
in the animals, two at a time, and fasten them in the rear of the
stable and stack. This was easily accomplished in the darkness. The
ambulance was left in charge of Vic.
While this was going on, and I was overlooking the construction of
rifle-shelters on the flanks, Sergeant Henry approached and asked if
he could not be of some use. Something in the tone of the boy's voice
showed me he felt he had been neglected, while his brother had been
kept busy.
"What would you like to do?" I asked.
"Does a soldier choose his duty, sir?" was the reply, uttered with
some dignity.
"Not usually, sergeant, it is true. I have a very important thing for
you to do--something for which I was intending to look you up. Go and
find Private Clary, and tell him to help you carry several armfuls of
hay from the stack to the right of the slope. Make a heap, so that
when it is lighted it will illuminate the approach from the creek. Ask
Mr. Hopkins if he has any kerosene or other inflammable stuff to
sprinkle on the hay and make it flash up quickly and burn brilliantly.
Then throw up a shelter in which you can lie and be ready to light the
hay when signalled."
"Yes, sir. Thank you. I'll attend to everything."
Not more than fifteen minutes had elapsed when the boy sergeant
returned and informed me that the bundle of hay was prepared and a
shelter constructed.
"Mr. Hopkins has two gallons of axle-grease and two quarts of spirits
of turpentine."
"Excellent. Mix them together and sprinkle the hay thoroughly. Then
place yourself in the shelter, and when you see a light flash from the
west window of the house light your bonfire."
"I'll do so, sir," and the boy ran away in the darkness.
An hour had passed when loud whoops gave us warning of the enemy's
approach. It was the war-cry of the terrible Apaches. Not a sound came
from the creek. I strained my eyes in that direction, but nothing was
visible in the black darkness beneath the pendulous branches of the
willows.
At last I saw the fixed reflections of the stars in the surface of the
pool diffuse themselves into myriads of sparkling atoms. A
considerable body of Indians must be in the water, but none appeared
in sight. Yes, they were crossing in two columns, to the right and
left of the notch, concealed by the high shore, and would shortly
unite and charge up the slope. Baldwin ran to the stable to tell the
men there that the Apaches were coming, and to be on the alert.
The whoops of the flanking party redoubled, and were accompanied by a
desultory firing, which the four men opposing them answered in the
same way. Then I saw the sparkling water of the pool cut off from my
sight, and knew that a body of men stood on the slope between us and
the creek.
"Frank, show the light! Men, ready!"
The lantern flashed from the window, quickly answered by a flash on
the bank, and a mass of red flame threw its luminous tresses skyward,
bathing the whole scene in light. In the notch, half-way up the slope,
stood a momentarily paralyzed group of nearly a hundred painted
warriors. Every rifle in the hands of the white men in the two
buildings spoke, and instantly the notch emptied itself pell-mell of
its living throng. Only a few prostrate bodies showed the Apaches had
been there.
With the discharge of fire-arms a silence immediately fell upon the
scene, in marked contrast to the shrieking and yelling of a moment
before. The bonfire burned low, and went out. Once more we were in
darkness.
We believed the Indians would make no further demonstration, and an
hour later a scouting party ascertained that they had gathered their
dead and departed. Sentinels were posted, the ambulance run in by
hand, the stock fed, and a midnight meal cooked.
While sitting by the camp-fire, listening to the sizzling of the bacon
and sniffing the aroma of the coffee, Mr. Hopkins introduced me to his
men and guests, and I heard an explanation of the tracks and blood at
Soldiers' Holes.
Early that morning three gentlemen, who had passed the night at the
ranch, started for Prescott. They were a Mr. Gray, a Scotch merchant
at La Paz; Mr. Hamilton, a lawyer of the same place; and a Mr.
Rosenberg, a freighter. When near the Holes, Mr. Hamilton, who was
riding in advance, was shot by Indians concealed in the sage-brush.
Mr. Rosenberg's mule was wounded, and plunged so that his rider fell
to the ground. Mr. Gray, seeing the plight of the freighter, rode to
his side, seized him by the collar, and aided him to leap to a seat
behind him.
It is probable that this act of generous daring might have ended in
the death of both men but for a diversion caused by the sudden and
unexpected appearance of the military expressman. He came up a slope
from a lower level, and, taking in the situation at a glance, let fly
three shots from his breech-loading carbine that caused the Indians to
lie low. The three men rode to the ranch, and Mr. Hopkins and his
three workmen accompanied them to bring in the body of Mr. Hamilton.
The Indians did not begin to concentrate at the creek until after the
burial.
Supper being over, the boys and I were getting into our blankets for
the rest of the night, when Mr. Hudson, who had been preparing to
depart, came to bid us good-bye.
"I seem to take frequent leave of you, these times, lieutenant," he
said.
"Yes; and your farewell ride with the Whipple mail so far seems to
have been anything but monotonous. I think the _Anabasis_ would be a
more suitable subject of study on this route than the _Memorabilia_."
"'Hence they proceeded one day's journey, a distance of five
parasangs, and fell in with the barbarians,' might well be said of
this trip, for a fact."
"Hadn't you better travel with me the rest of the way?"
"I think we have seen the last of the Apaches. They do not range south
and west of here. Good-bye, sir."
"Good-bye, until we meet at Tyson's Wells."
The next morning, when the boys, Vic, and I were taking our places in
the ambulance, Mr. Hopkins and his men, Mr. Gray and Mr. Rosenberg,
approached us mounted. They informed me that they were going to La
Paz.
"The Ingins are gettin' a little too thick here," observed the
ranchman. "I find it diffikilt to git proper rest after a hard day's
work. Think I'll stay away until Uncle Sam's boys thin 'em out a
little more."
"Can I obtain a five or ten gallon keg of you, Mr. Hopkins?" I asked.
"Ours was accidentally smashed on the road."
"Haven't a keg to my name, lieutenant. One way 'n' ernuther all's been
smashed, give away, or lent."
The ride from the ranch to the edge of the desert plain was twelve
miles, a portion of it over a rugged ridge. To the point where we were
to ford the creek was two miles, and there the hired men, pack-mules,
and ranch cattle turned off on the Bill Williams Fork route to the
Rio Colorado.
Once on the level of the Xuacaxélla our team broke into a brisk trot,
and we rolled along with a fair prospect of soon crossing the one
hundred miles between Date Creek and La Paz. Messrs. Gray, Rosenberg,
and Hopkins shortly turned into a bridle-path which led into a mine.
Before taking leave of us Mr. Gray told me that my camping-place for
the night would be at the point of the third mountain-spur which
jutted into the plain from the western range.
We had not travelled long before we realized our misfortune in having
smashed our water-keg. Each individual in our party possessed a
three-pint army canteen, which had been filled when we forded the
creek in the early dawn. These were to last us until evening, through
an exceedingly sultry day. Frank, Henry, and I did our best to
overcome our desire for water, but the younger boy could not refuse
the appeals of Vic, when she looked up with lolling tongue and
beseeching eyes to the canteens.
The men were the greatest sufferers, unless I except their horses.
Long before mid-day their canteens were empty and their mouths so dry
that articulation was difficult and they rarely spoke.
At five we arrived opposite the third spur, where we found a wand
sticking in the ground and holding in its cleft end a slip of paper.
It proved to be a note from Mr. Hudson, saying that this was the place
to camp, and the Black Tanks were on the southern side of the spur,
three miles distant.
In a few minutes, with the horses and mules divested of saddles,
bridles, and harnesses, leaving two men behind to guard the property
and collect fuel for a fire, we were on the way to water.
Hurrying along, we saw before us a long, irregular range, apparently
three thousand feet in height, which had been cleft from summit to
base as if by a wedge. In this rent we found water--water deposited in
a natural reservoir by the periodical rainfalls in millions of
gallons, a reservoir never known to be dry.
Climbing over the dike which enclosed the main deposit, we descended
to the cistern, filled our cups, and swallowed the contents without
taking a breath. When we dipped up a second, Tom Clary looked into the
depths of his cup with knitted brows.
"Whist, now, sergeant laddies!" he exclaimed. "Look into the wather!
It's aloive with wigglers of ivery variety. They're 's plinty as pays
in a soup."
"Ugh! And we are full of them, too, Tom," said Henry, looking into his
cup with narrow-eyed anxiety.
Pausing in the act of taking a second drink, I looked into my cup, and
saw that it contained myriads of animalcula and larvæ, which zigzagged
from side to side in the liveliest manner.
"Will they hurt us, Tom?" questioned Henry.
"I rickon they've got the worst of it, sergeant laddie; but I think
I'd fale a bit aisier if I was blindfolded or takin' a drink in the
dark. I prefer me liquid refrishment with a little less mate, not to
minshin its bein' less frisky."
We had come to the Cisternas Negras with towels, intending to wash off
the dust of travel. We now used one of them to strain the water, and
were astonished to see that each gallon left behind it a plump
spoonful of animalcula. The water was sweet, but, after discovering
the abundant life in it, we deferred drinking more of it until it had
been boiled.
As we pursued the narrow path to camp in single file, we noticed Vic a
considerable distance to the right, scouting and nosing about in an
earnest manner. Evidently she thought she had made an important
discovery, for she several times paused and looked in our direction
and barked. But we were too hungry to investigate, and soon she
disappeared from our view.
When we reached the ambulance the boys put a few cakes of hard bread
in their pockets, and, taking their shot-guns, went out to look for
some "cottontails" while supper was being prepared. Believing we were
well out of the range of hostile Indians, I did not object to their
going alone. They passed a considerable distance beyond the growth of
_Cereus giganteus_, over a level stretch covered with knee-high
bunch-grass and desert weeds, without seeing a hare. Pausing on the
brink of a shoal, dry ravine, they stood side by side, and rested the
butts of their guns upon the ground. Just then a shout of "Supper!
supper!" came from the group at the camp-fire.
"Hate to go back without anything," said Frank, so I afterwards heard.
"Strange we can't see a rabbit now, when we saw dozens on the way to
the Tanks."
"That's because we didn't have a gun," said Henry.
"You don't believe the rabbits knew we weren't armed then and know we
are now?"
"Hunters tell bigger stories than that about 'Brer Rabbit.' Not one
has bobbed up since we got our guns."
Suddenly from the flat surface of the plain, not twenty yards from
where the boys stood, where nothing but bunch-grass and low shrubbery
grew, sixteen Indians sprang up to full height, like so many
Jacks-in-a-box.
XIV
ON THE DESERT WITHOUT WATER
The boys were frightened. Their hearts leaped into their throats, and
it was difficult for them to restrain an impulse to turn and run; but
a soldierly instinct brought them to a "ready," with eyes fixed upon
the probable enemy.
"Quick, Henry! shoot!" exclaimed Frank, intending to reserve his own
fire.
The younger sergeant raised his double-barrelled shot-gun to his
shoulder and pulled both triggers. Down went the sixteen Indians as if
the bird-shot had been fatal to all. The plain became in an instant as
objectless as it was a moment before.
"Load, Henry, and, backward, march!" said Frank, ready to fire
whenever a head showed above the grass, and at the same time moving as
rapidly as possible towards the camp-fire.
"How! how! how!" was chorused from the direction of the Indians, and
several naked brown arms were stretched upward, holding rifles
horizontally in the air.
"That means peace," said Henry. "They aren't going to fire. Let's
answer. How! how! how!"
"How! how! how!" Frank joined in, and at once the sixteen redmen
sprang to their feet, apparently none the worse for Henry's double
charge of bird-shot at short range. They held their weapons above
their heads, and continuing to utter their friendly "How!" rapidly
advanced towards the boys.
"They aren't playing us a trick, are they, Frank?" asked Henry, in an
anxious tone.
"No," replied the elder boy, after snatching a glance to the rear.
"The lieutenant and soldiers are saddling. The Indians dare not harm
us on an open plain in sight of a mounted force."
The boys stopped, and the redmen came up and began shaking hands in a
most friendly manner, over and over again, repeating "How!" many
times. They were clad in loose and sleeveless cotton shirts, all
ragged and dirty, with no other clothing. The one who appeared to be
chief was distinguished by the possession of three shirts, worn one
above the other. Each man possessed several hares and field-rats, held
against his waist by tucking the heads under his belt.
The boy sergeants and their strange guests reached the camp-fire, and
the hand-shaking and exchange of amicable civilities went on for some
time. The chief approached me and, placing a finger on one of my
shoulder-straps, asked, in mongrel Spanish:
"Usted capitan?" (Are you the captain?)
I replied in the affirmative.
"Yo capitan, tambien; mucho grande heap capitan." (I'm a captain, too;
a very great heap captain.)
He then asked where we were from and where we were going, and informed
us that they were Yavapais on a hunting expedition. We exchanged hard
bread with them for a few cottontails, and set Clary to making a
rabbit-stew, the boys and I deferring our supper until it should be
ready.
"Oh, Mr. Duncan," shouted Henry from the direction of the Indians, a
few moments later, "come and see what these creatures are doing!"
I left the ambulance and joined the group of soldiers who stood in a
circle about an inner circle of seated Indians. Each Yavapai had
selected a rat from the collection in his belt, and had laid it on the
coals without dressing it or in any way disturbing its anatomy. He
rolled the rat over once or twice, and took it up and brushed and blew
off the singed hair. He placed it again on the coals for a moment,
and, taking it up, pinched off the charred fore legs close to the body
and the hind legs at the ham-joint. Replacing it on the fire, he
turned it over a few more times. Picking it up for the third time, he
held it daintily in the palm of his left hand, and with the fingers of
his right plucked off the flesh and put it in his mouth.
When we were making our beds ready for the night, Vic, whom we had
forgotten in the exciting events of the evening, trotted into camp and
laid a horseshoe in Henry's lap. The lad took it up, and exclaimed:
"One of Chiquita's shoes!--a left hind shoe!"
"How do you know?" I asked.
"Private Sattler always shaped the heel of the left shoe like this, to
correct a fault in her gait."
"May I look at the shoe, sergeant?" asked Corporal Duffey,
approaching from the group of men near the guard's fire. "Shoes are
like hand-writing--no two blacksmiths make them alike. I am a
blacksmith by trade, and know all the shoes made by the smiths of our
regiment. This," examining it, "is one of Sattler's. He put a
side-weight on it, and here is the bevel-mark of his hammer."
"Then our ponies have certainly passed here, and Vic was on their
trail when we saw her coming from the Tanks," remarked Frank; "but
there could have been no scent after so long a time."
"Oh, she knows Sancho's and Chiquita's tracks," asseverated Henry;
"she knows their halters, bridles, and will bring them when told to,
without mistake."
The sentinel awakened us next morning at four o'clock, and informed us
that the Indians had left two hours before. The animals were again
driven to the Tanks, the vessels and canteens filled, and at six
o'clock we were on the road. Nearly all our water was used in the
preparation of breakfast, except that in the canteens. It would have
been better if we had made a third trip to the cisterns and refilled
our coffee-pot and camp-kettles; but the delay necessary to do it, and
the assurance that there was water at Hole-in-the-Plain, determined me
to go on at once. The weather was a repetition of that of the previous
day--hot and windless.
The road proved generally smooth, but there were occasional long
stretches over which it was impossible to drive faster than a walk.
About four in the afternoon we reached Hole-in-the-Plain, and found
nothing but a few hundred square yards of thin mud. The fierce rays of
the sun had nearly evaporated every vestige of the recent rainfall,
and in twenty-four hours more the mud would be baked earth.
Vic, consumed with thirst and suffering in the extreme heat, waded
into the mud and rolled in it until she was the color of a fresh
adobe, and was, in consequence, made to ride thereafter in disgrace on
the driver's foot-board.
We had intended to pass the night at the Hole, but want of water
compelled us to move on. Very gloomy and doubtful of the outcome, we
left the Hole-in-the-Plain. We were toiling slowly up a slope, nearly
a dozen miles on this third stage of the desert route, when a
horseman overtook us, who proved to be Mr. Gray. He slowed up,
listened to my account of our perplexities, and after saying many
hopeful and cheering things, telling us that Tyson's Wells were now
not far ahead, he galloped swiftly away in the darkness.
At midnight the road ascended to a considerably higher level and
became suddenly hard and smooth. The driver urged the team into a
series of brief and spasmodic trots, which lasted a couple of hours,
when we again descended to a lower level, where the wearily slow gait
was resumed. With the slower pace our spirits fell and our thirst
increased. As Private Tom Clary expressed it to the driver:
"In a place like this a gallon of Black Tanks water would be
acciptible without a strainer, and no reflictions passed upon the
wigglers."
"That's so, Tom," called Henry, from the depths of his blankets; "I
could drink two quarts of it--half and half."
"Half and half--what do you mean?" I asked.
"Half water and half wigglers," was the answer.
"I thought you were asleep."
"Can't sleep, sir; I'm too thirsty. Did drop off once for two or three
minutes, and dreamed of rivers, waterfalls, springs, and wells that I
could not reach."
"I've not slept at all," said Frank; "just been thinking whether I
ever rode over a mile in Vermont without crossing a brook or passing a
watering-trough."
"It's beginning to grow light in the east," observed the driver. "By
the time we reach the top of the next roll we can see whether we are
near the Wells."
"You may stop the team, Marr," said I; "we will wait for the escort to
close up."