THE WHITE FLAG
The boy ranchers--at least two of them,--were much disappointed at the
manner in which this fight against the Yaquis started. And I think I
need not say that the two I mean were Dick and Nort. Bud, while he had
never before taken part in a fight against Indians, did not expect so
much of the romantically picturesque and so was not so disappointed.
But like most healthy lads Nort and Dick, in their early days, had read
many books about the west, stories of adventures among the cowboys,
miners and Indians--especially the latter. And all the stories had to
do with the dashing manner in which the redmen fought, when they fought
in the open. Of course, when they had the chance, the Indians
preferred to sneak up on their victims and take them unawares. It was
easier than standing up against gunfire.
But when the Indians had fought there was a dash and spirit about their
attack that made the blood run faster in the veins. The redmen would
begin circling about the band they were to attack, riding their ponies
faster and faster as they approached, leaning over on the far side, to
bring the animal's body between themselves and the hail of bullets.
Then the doughty Indian, hanging to his saddle blanket by one
moccasined foot would fire from under his pony's neck, dashing away in
time to escape the white man's bullet.
That was warfare to make any real lad wish to toss aside his school
books and hike for the great WEST!
And it was by anticipating such scenes as this that Nort and Dick were
disappointed. But, in a way they had been prepared for it by seeing
what manner of Indians the Yaquis were. No warpaint, no feathered
headdresses, no necklaces of bears' claws, and of course no bows and
arrows.
It must be admitted that the stories on which Nort and Dick had fed
their imaginations were true enough about the time they were written.
But the romantic Indians died off, or were confined on reservations,
and those who occasionally sneaked over the border from Mexico, to make
raids by which they gathered in cattle, ponies and weapons, were not of
this class.
"It's like making an attack on a bunch of Greasers!" declared Nort, in
some disgust, as the fight opened.
But just then a bullet sang uncomfortably close to his head, and as he
ducked down--too late of course had the shot been true--Bud laughed and
said:
"Don't lose sight of the fact that they can shoot!"
Indeed the Yaquis, thus forced to make a stand and fight, were not
going to give up easily. The soldiers, the outfit from Diamond X and
the boy ranchers were to have no easy time of it.
It was inspiring to witness the manner in which the troopers went about
the business of rounding up the renegade Yaquis. At the first
intimation that there was to be serious fighting, when the band had
gotten close enough for effective work, the horses were sent back to be
out of danger from the bullets. The animals belonging to Bud, Nort,
Dick and their friends were taken in charge by some of the troopers.
For it was vitally necessary that means of retreat or of advance be
preserved. And of course there was no thought of retreat on the part
of our friends.
Buck Tooth, the old Indian, slid from his pony with a sigh of relief.
He did not care for riding. He liked an automobile, but he was too fat
to sit in comfort on a rangy cow pony.
"Keep head down!" he advised Nort, as he saw the lad apparently duck a
bullet.
"Guess that's good advice," admitted the lad with a sharp intaking of
his breath.
"Do same like soldiers," went on Buck Tooth.
And, as I have said, the example of the troopers was one to be
followed. This was not the first time they had been in Indian fights,
and against more worthy foes of the redman type. Each trooper picked
out such natural shelter as was available, and then began looking over
or around it for a sight of some human target at which to aim.
This sort of warfare would be carried on until there was a chance to
rush the Yaquis, when the horses could be brought up for this purpose,
or the charge made on foot. The Indians, exercising as great care for
their steeds as had the white men, had also sent the ponies to the rear.
The place of the fight was about the middle of a small valley, closed
in at either end by broken hills of rock, while rocks and great
boulders were scattered over the floor of the vale, thus affording
natural shelter for both sides. The rising ground at the rear of each
party prevented the chance of a rapid retreat, and it was evident that
the fight would go to a "finish."
Just how large the party of Yaquis was could not be told, but Captain
Marshall believed he had more men than were rallied to the support of
Paz, the notorious leader of the Mexicans.
"But I haven't seen Rosemary or Floyd," remarked Nort, as he wormed
himself into a hollow place behind a rock, not far from Dick and Bud.
"Well, they are probably back in the rear. That's where they generally
keep their captives," explained Dick. "If they see the fight going
against them they'll send word back and some party will scoot out with
our friends."
"Then we'll have the chasing to do all over again," ruefully observed
Nort.
"Oh, I guess Captain Marshall knows a trick or two," commented Bud.
"Look, he's sending some of his men out now to try and get in the rear
of the Yaquis."
Dick and Nort turned to see a detachment of the troopers making their
way on hands and knees out among the rocks. Their object was what Bud
had stated--to get in the rear of the Indians and not only attack them
from that vantage point but also to prevent a retreat with the
captives, in case Rosemary and Floyd were at that point.
And now the fight began in earnest.
With each party in a position advantageous to it the first few minutes
of attack and defense were marked only by firing that accomplished
nothing.
That is to say there was an exchange of bullets, most of which
spattered against the rooks, sending up sprays of vicious lead or
showers of pulverized stone, but inflicting no dangerous wounds. One
of the troopers was temporarily blinded by some of this stone dust
getting into his eyes when a bullet struck the rock just over his head,
and several others, including Lieutenant Snow, were "creased" by
bullets when they exposed an arm or leg. But these were only trifles
in the day's adventure.
If the Yaquis were not as romantic, tricky and brave as the old Apaches
or Sioux, they were no quitters, and they seemed to be well directed.
For after the first scattered firing on their part, they began a
fusillade which increased in intensity.
"They aren't saving ammunition," commented Snake, as he drew a quick
sight on an exposed head, and had the satisfaction of seeing it drop
back out of sight in a manner that told of a hit.
"I guess they know it's a case of shoot or be shot," remarked Yellin'
Kid, his tones low, for a wonder.
It must be stated that the troopers and those with them fought under a
better system, and were better trained, to say nothing of being better
individual marksmen. For this reason the casualties on the side of the
Yaquis soon began to mount up. Occasional yells, and the spasmodic
leaping up of some "warrior" as he was hit after a careless exposure of
limb or body, told that the renegades were paying toll.
On the other hand more than one trooper was hit, two being killed not
far from Bud and his cousins.
Nor did our heroes escape. For Nort received a nasty, but not
dangerous wound in the left leg, while Dick, incautiously looking from
behind his rock, to see the effect of one of his shots, felt a bullet
clip the lobe of his right ear, bringing pain and plenty of blood.
At first Bud and Nort thought Dick had been killed, for he fell back
with a groan and his neck was stained a bright red, his ear bleeding
freely. But after the momentary shock the lad raised himself--still
keeping back of his rock, and cried:
"I'm all right. That ear always was too long!"
"Good stuff, kid!" cried one of the troopers. "Here, wind some of this
on," and he tossed over a roll of antiseptic bandage.
Minor hurts were thus quickly bound up, and Bud, having received a
painful wound in the right hand, had to retire from the fight. He did
not actually go to the rear, however, but remained with Nort and Dick,
handing them cartridges to reload their weapons.
"Gosh! This is rotten!" bewailed Bud, looking at his bandaged hand.
It was dismay not at the nature of the wound, but because he could no
longer "pepper" the Yaquis.
And the Indians were being attacked with a vengeance and were being
"peppered" to such good advantage that some of them rose up and started
to run to the rear. This was the last running they did, however, for
the unerring rifles of the troopers picked them off.
And then the strategy of Captain Marshall had its effect. For suddenly
the troopers he had sent to attack the rear of the Yaquis opened up a
fire and this, being augmented by shots from the main body, soon threw
the Indians into such confusion that the end was only a question of
minutes.
And it came suddenly. For just as Captain Marshall was preparing to
order a charge, Snake gave a yell and shouted:
"The white flag! They're quitting!"