When the lieutenant and scout were awakened, according to order, the
camp became at once an exceedingly lively though quiet place. The men
had their instructions in a low tone from Danforth. They led the horses
into the cave from the rear, and, the fire being now merely a bed of
glowing coals, the shadows of neither man nor beast were pricked out by
the light from the fire.
Cody had slipped out and beaten the rocks and brush on the hillside
before the mouth of the cavern. He found no lurking spy, but he went
far enough to hear Boyd Bennett’s horse stamping in the valley. The
outlaw was still there awaiting the coming of his men and of his
redskin allies.
The scout hurried back and led the way with Chief, warning the troopers
to smother any desire on their mounts’ part to whinny if they smelt the
strange horse in the valley. The scout had picked out a path around
the swell of the mountain, between the rocks and ledges, and, although
it was a roundabout way, it was sod-covered for most of the distance,
and they were enabled to lead their mounts away without an appreciable
sound. Like a file of shadows they passed around the mountain and down
into the lowlands. There the horses were tethered and left in the care
of a single soldier. The others hurried back to positions near the
mouth of the cave, to await the expected attack of the outlaws.
Divided as their forces had been, by sending the stage and treasure
on to Fort Advance, Danforth’s squad now numbered less than the gang
of outlaws. And, in addition, Boyd Bennett would have at his back a
party of bloodthirsty savages. It was a ticklish position, and none
understood that better than the Border King, Buffalo Bill.
Strategy was the scout’s best card under these circumstances. He knew
the quality of the gang whom Boyd Bennett had gathered about him. They
were ignorant, superstitious scoundrels, and, therefore, he ventured to
play upon their fears as well as to lay a close ambush for them.
To approach the mouth of the cave in which the fire now burned brightly
necessitated the foe advancing up a sidehill into the mouth of the
gulch under the shelter merely of low brush and boulders, with here and
there a stunted tree, the roots of which had found fixture between the
rocks. Higher up the mountain, and upon both sides of the gulch, were
thicker forest.
Under Cody’s advice Danforth placed his men upon the side of the
gulch opposite the cavern’s mouth, and outside the gulch itself, all
positions selected being easy of access to the trail down which they
had led their horses so cautiously. A more withering fire could have
been arranged by placing the troopers upon both sides of the gorge; a
cross-fire is always more galling and confusing to an enemy. But, then,
there remained the danger of the reds rushing to the assistance of Boyd
Bennett and his gang, and so those soldiers above the cave might be cut
off from escape. Whatever happened, the mêlée was bound to be a sharp
and quick one; it would be all over in a few moments.
Just outside the mouth of the gulch, and in advance of the line of
hidden troopers, was a rather larger tree than most upon the lower
hillside, and it had a low crotch from which sprang three branches.
Cody saw that to approach the cavern’s entrance, the attacking force
would be pretty sure to come close under this tree. Seeing this, he
evolved--with the help of the corporal--a scheme which later added much
to the excitement of the battle and came near to utterly routing the
outlaw gang.
There was little time for preparation, however; already the hour grew
close to midnight. Cody crept into the cave, showed himself in the
firelight, threw on more wood, and then crept out again, so as to
assure the watching Bennett below that the place was still occupied.
Then the scout went down into the valley and watched and listened until
his keen ear assured him that several ponies were being ridden rapidly
toward the hiding-place of the bandit leader.
How many were coming--whether the reds were with the whites--Buffalo
Bill did not know. Nor did he consider it well to wait to learn. That
the attack would be made at once, he was sure. Boyd Bennett was not the
most patient man in the world, and he had waited here long for his men
to appear.
Cody found the lieutenant, and snuggled down beside him behind a
brush-clump.
“By the nine gods of war, Bill! I thought you’d never come,” muttered
Danforth. “I got as nervous as an old maid with her first beau, fearing
that you wouldn’t get here in time to holler. I can imitate some
critters--thanks to you and Jack Omohondreau: but when it comes to
murdering the night air with the scream of a wildcat----”
“Sh!” breathed Cody. “They’re coming.”
Danforth became quiet. They were placed so that the entire sweep of
the side-hill was before them. Several of the troopers were nearer the
cave; several were behind the station of the lieutenant and the scout.
All had their instructions regarding the withholding of their fire
until a prearranged instant.
Soon Danforth beheld several flitting shadows below. A number of
men were coming up the rocky slope; they had spread out and were
approaching the cavern’s mouth without any regard to military
formation. Several, however, were coming close to the forked tree which
Cody had previously noted. That stood some yards in front, and a little
below, where he lay with his friend, the lieutenant.
“All right, Bill!” whispered Danforth.
“Wait till I give the word,” breathed the scout. “Let some of them
pass. We want every shot to count.”
A few moments more they waited. Several figures passed on up the hill,
dodging from rock to rock, but all converging toward the mouth of the
cave where the fire now glowed dully. That they were the bandits, and
not the redskins, Cody was sure. Suddenly he saw two of the prowlers
approaching the forked tree. He nudged Danforth sharply.
The two outlaws in question were almost under the branching limbs of
the tree when they heard what sounded like the scratching of claws on
the rough bark. Both looked up, and beheld an uncertain but bulky
figure lying along one branch. A sharp snarl seemed to come from it,
and the two bandits sprang away.
“Curse you!” exclaimed the voice of Bennett, low but deadly in its
temper. “What’s the matter?”
Two or three of the bandits ran together. They thought some attack had
been made upon them.
“What is it?” repeated several in shrill whispers.
“A cougar!”
“A wildcat!”
“Get back to your stations!” commanded Bennett. “Do you want to spoil
the whole thing? Such cursed foolishness over a blamed tomcat----”
He had approached the tree, and suddenly the animal on the limb seemed
to gather itself for a spring, and there sounded upon the night air the
shrill, blood-curdling yell of the dreaded panther!
“Look out, Boyd! He’s goin’ ter jump!” exclaimed one fellow.
Several of the others stepped warily back and raised their guns. Above
on the hillside--this had been prearranged by Cody--one of the troopers
shouted:
“Who goes there?”
“Curse my body and bones!” growled Bennett. “The game is spoiled!
They’ve heard us.”
The supposed panther screamed again, and then the body in the tree was
hurled out into the air. Involuntarily every outlaw in sight took a
pot-shot at the flying body. The mountainside reechoed with the reports
of half a dozen guns, and the flashes of the same revealed to the
ambushed party just where the bandits stood.
The log of wood, dressed in a blanket, representing the panther, and
jerked out of the tree by Cody’s lariat, fell to the ground riddled
by the bullets of the outlaws. But instantly Danforth leaped up and
shouted to his men:
“Now, my bullies! Give it to them!”
The troopers fired a broadside. Four of the robbers dropped under the
fire, and two more ran away screaming. Cody had picked out Bennett, and
intended to wound or kill him; but the wily scoundrel seemed to fear
some game just as the dummy was yanked by Danforth from the tree. He
leaped away and dodged behind a boulder before the first shot from the
party in ambush was fired.
As the echoes of the first round from the troopers died away Boyd
Bennett raised an ear-splitting yell of defiance. It was a war-whoop
that the redskins in the rear evidently understood. They answered from
the valley, and, although the soldiers had succeeded in placing so many
of the bandits hors de combat at their first fire, Danforth whistled
almost instantly for his men to retire.
“Did you wing Bennett, Cody?” asked the young lieutenant.
“No. The scaly rascal left his men to bear the brunt of the trouble,
and he’s under shelter half-way down the hill.”
“Can’t we get him?”
“With those reds tearing up to his aid?”
“Oh, by thunder, Bill! I hoped to either kill the scoundrel or bring
him in.”
“So did I.”
“But we can’t risk staying here longer.”
“You’re right there, Dick. Come on. The men have gone.”
The scout and the lieutenant followed their men down the hill. And none
too soon, for the redskins soon found that their white brethren had
been outwitted by the soldiers, and they came tearing along the valley
trail to try and head the refugees off.
They were not successful in that, however. Every trooper came in,
they mounted at the command, and with fresh horses under them soon
outdistanced all pursuit.
“It’s getting too lively for us,” said Buffalo Bill, in disgust. “We
can’t chance it with such a small force. I hate to give it up; but we
must.”
“We’ll keep on if you say the word, scout,” said Danforth.
“You’d ride straight into the jaws of hell if you thought there’d be a
fight, Dick,” said Cody. “But discretion is the better part of valor in
this case.”
“I hate to give Bennett up,” grumbled the younger man.
“So do I. But it can’t be helped.”
“When I get back to Resistence I’m going to ask Colonel Royal to give
me a roving commission to hunt the scoundrel down.”
Neither of them realized at the time what the putting of this decision
into practise would amount to in the end.