BURSTING SHELLS.
Before nightfall the two reserve commands had reached the fords, to
which they had been guided by the scout sent to each of them.
They found them good camping places, water, wood, and grass in
plenty, and which could be readily defended if need be.
There were a dozen fires built by those sent on ahead, and the
officers in command were delighted to learn that there was a chance
for a brush with the Indians, for, being ordered to the front, they
believed there would be.
It was just before sunset that Lieutenant Worth, Buffalo Bill, and
Sergeant Fallon rode into the camp at the upper ford, and were
welcomed by the officers and men.
“Percy, how is your gun placed?” asked Lieutenant Worth of the
officer in charge.
“It commands the ford and the other shore, though it is not in
position to be seen.”
“All right, run it into position as soon as Buffalo Bill shows you,
just to toss a shell or two, for he has been devoting the past day to
studying the Indian camps at two of the fords,” said the lieutenant,
with a smile, while the scout remarked:
“Say night, rather, lieutenant, for I’ve been resting by daylight.”
Going to a point which commanded a view of the other shore, Buffalo
Bill ran his glass over it and said:
“Sergeant, when I reconnoitered, the camp was in those willows.”
“Yes, that is it; and the ponies are corralled over beyond them.”
“I’ll see if I can put a shell there,” and the officer in charge of
the guns sighted one himself, a sergeant training the other.
“Fire!”
The six and twelve-pounders flashed together, and shells went
shrieking across the river.
One burst directly in the willows, the other beyond, where the
sergeant had said the horses were.
There was a neighing of horses, several ponies dashed into view, and
it was certain that the shells had been a startling surprise to the
redskins in camp.
“Percy, I wish one of your guns sent at once down to my camp, and
with full speed, for I shall drop a shell or two into the camp across
the river from me, and then push on down to the other camp, and have
them give the reds a surprise, though we do not know just where they
are located at the lower ford, and must guess at it.
“Toss a few more shells over there, and then limber up and get the
gun away, whichever one you care to send.”
Half a dozen more shells were sent flying into the Indian camp, and
then the gun was sent down to the camp of Lieutenant Worth, who,
after supper with his officer comrades there, rode away with Buffalo
Bill, the sergeant, and the three men sent there in the morning to
build fires, back to his camp.
He found it no easy task to overtake the gun, the crew being anxious
to reach their position and throw in a few shells before word could
be sent down from the upper ford, though the firing would naturally
be heard there, the sound traveling by the river.
The gun was dragged to the ridge, and the sergeant pointed out just
where the camp and corral of ponies were.
“Aim it yourself, sergeant,” ordered Lieutenant Worth.
The sergeant did so, and the shell was seen to burst right behind the
ledge.
Wild yells followed, and, with the firing of a second shell into the
corral of ponies, it also struck home, for horses neighed wildly in
fright.
“Give them a few more shells, sergeant, and then the gun can go to
camp, while we hold on down to the lower ford.”
This was done, the gun retreated to camp, and Lieutenant Worth,
Buffalo Bill, and Sergeant Fallon followed on down the river trail to
the lower ford.
It was some fifteen miles distant, and over a rough trail; but they
reached the camp soon after midnight, and found the officer in
command and his men all under arms and ready for the fray, for they
had heard the firing from the middle ford and expected to be called
upon to move at any time.
“It is no alarm, Benedict, at least to us, though it is for the
Indians.
“I took a fancy to let the redskins know we were across here in very
heavy force, as Sergeant Fallon had so reported to them, and got
Percy to open on them, and, borrowing one of his guns, I did the
same, and now I wish you to stir them up.”
“With great pleasure, Lieutenant Worth,” answered Lieutenant
Benedict, who was in command.
“Have you any idea of just where their camp and corral is?”
“I reconnoitered with my glass just before sunset and think I found
their camp, and behind it is a meadow where I saw a pony astray.”
“We’ll chance it.”
Accordingly, the guns were placed in position, the spots pointed out
to the gunners, and first one, then another roar came, the shells
went shrieking on their errands, and bursting just where it was
intended they should.
Again startled yells answered, and then half a dozen more shells went
crashing into the timber on the other side.
“Give them a couple of shots just at dawn, Benedict, and the other
camps will do the same to show them that we have guns at each ford.
“We will camp at the fords for a couple of days yet, and then return
by easy marches to the fort, for I do not believe a redskin will
venture across the river for a long while to come. Eh, Cody?”
“I do not think so, either, sir, unless Eagle, the outlaw, puts them
up to some act of deviltry,” was the scout’s answer, and, after a
snack, the lieutenant and his two companions returned to their own
camp.
The stay of the commands at the fords was continued for three days
longer, and every morning and evening what the troops called the
“sunrise and sunset guns” were fired across the river at the Indian
camps, the guns being loaded with shell.
Since the first night of the firing not an Indian had been seen or
heard. They were either gone or in hiding farther off.
Sergeant Fallon volunteered to go across and discover, making the
site of the three fords in the night along the trail upon the other
side, but Lieutenant Worth said that he did not care to have him take
any more chances.
Then the sergeant said it would be well for him to cross just where
he had before, and let the Indians feel that he was still trying to
serve them, also giving them another ghost story about the troops
intending to remain for some time.
Thus urged, the lieutenant yielded, and, rigging out in his Indian
costume once more, Sergeant Fallon rode slowly away from the fort
after supper one night.
Lieutenant Worth and Buffalo Bill accompanied him to the river, and
then waited.
It was bright moonlight, and the other shore could be plainly seen,
the officer and the scout watching the sergeant all the way across
and until he disappeared in the shadows of the other side.
They waited two hours before they saw him come again into sight. He
rode into the river, came across, and joined them back in the shadows
on the ridge.
“Have they gone, sergeant?” asked the officer.
“No, sir, they are there, only camped well back, and with half a
dozen braves on guard at a time, while their force now numbers a
couple of hundred men at each ford.”
“Give me the location of their camp, and we will toss a shell over
there in the morning.”
“Pardon me, lieutenant,” said Buffalo Bill, “but that would
compromise the sergeant, as they would understand that through him
only the location could have been found out.”
“You are right, Cody, and it would not do.”
“You could hardly reach there as it is, sir, for they are well
protected; but, as Cody says, it might bring suspicion upon me, and I
was received in a most friendly manner.”
“Was Iron Eyes there?”
“No, sir; he is back at the village, and Death Face commands five
hundred warriors at the pass where they would hope to check your
advance, with the braves who would retreat from the fords, and others
who would come from the camp.
“They have planned well, indeed, sir, and are in dread of your
advance, for they think you have two-thirds of the force from the
fort. Fighting Bird is in command at the ford here, and he is a
plucky, able chief. The shots did some damage at each ford, for half
a dozen warriors were killed opposite to us, two at the upper camp,
and one at the lower, while a score were wounded, as the shells
dropped right into their midst. Then, too, they lost a number of
ponies by the shelling.”
“We did do some service then, at random.”
“Yes, sir, and they will be most cautious about recrossing the river
for some time to come.”
“I hope they will not allow us to rust in camp.”
“No danger of that, lieutenant, for they are Indians, and they will
break out in a new spot when they think you have forced them to lie
quiet,” remarked Buffalo Bill.
“There is one thing I did not like, lieutenant.”
“What is that, sergeant?”
“The outlaw chief has left the camps.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes, sir.”
“When did he leave?”
“The day after my visit, sir.”
“Where did he go?”
“I was told by Fighting Bird that the outlaw seemed sorry to have
trusted me, after I left, and told Iron Eyes so. Iron Eyes and Death
Face laughed at him, and he said that he had made a mistake, but
would rectify it, and soon after he left the camp. I asked where he
had gone, but Fighting Bird said he did not know; but he thought to
the village of the palefaces, meaning Pioneer City.”
“But he would not dare to cross the fords?”
“It seems, sir, that he knows of another ford up the river to which
no trail leads, but where there is really a good crossing, and he
went there. He wished to lead a band of warriors around that way to
attack the upper camp, but the Indians were too much afraid of the
big guns to listen to it.”
“It’s well for us they were; but would he dare go to Pioneer City,
where he must be known?”
“Yes, lieutenant, for you know he always wore a mask as an outlaw,
and no one saw his face.”
“His face is not known in Pioneer City, and I never saw it that I
know of,” the scout remarked.
“But is he masked now?”
“No, sir.”
“Then you saw his face?”
“I did, sir, and I would know it again if I met his ghost in Hades,”
was the sergeant’s emphatic response, for a moment did he break out
from his accustomed quiet mien.
“Describe him, sergeant, please.”
“A man six feet in height, sir, herculean in strength, and with a
dark, intellectual face, cynical, stern, and very handsome, but for
its look of cruelty. He has a long dark mustache, and his hair hangs
upon his shoulders. He is a very striking-looking man, sir, and
worthy of a better calling, to judge by his appearance.”
“Well, I hope to have a close look at him some day; but what do you
think he went to Pioneer City for?”
“I told you, sir, of his intended letter to my daughter, and as it
seems he grew suspicious of me, my idea is that he has gone there to
plot to get her into his power at once.”
“By the Lord Harry! but you may be right, sergeant. We will break
camp at daylight and push for the fort. Come, I’ll send couriers to
the other camps to move, also,” and the three returned at a gallop to
the camp.