CHAPTER XIII.THE RIDE FOR HELP.
The darkness hid the tears of joy in the eyes of the colored troopers, at the coming of Buffalo Bill.
The scout had crept into the corral unseen, and he said sternly:
“If I could get in here, redskins can—who is commander here?”
“I am, sir, Sergeant Mobile Buck, and we were going to meet you, Chief Cody.”
“I am glad to meet you, Sergeant Buck; but you have only colored troops?”
“Yes, sir, from the Tenth Cavalry, and Major Armes told us we could come and meet you on the trail, and mighty glad we are to see you, sir.”
“I saw your man ahead killed, but could not save him, for he rode right into an ambush I was watching, and his doing so saved me. Then I watched developments and saw you retreat here, so waited until dark to creep in, for there are more Indians coming and you are in a bad way.”
“Oh, Lordy!”
Buffalo Bill laughed.
“You are not dead yet, boys,” he said, “and you made a good fight when they attacked you; but you will not be attacked again until morning, about dawn, and then by a force large enough to run you down.”
“Jist you take us to de fort, Massa Bill, fer you kin do it, sah,” said one, and all held the same opinion.
“No, you could never leave here, and I’ll have to sneak out; but my horse and pack animal are a mile away, on the trail to the fort, and I’ll go there for help, and it will take three or four troops to do it, too.
“The fort is about twenty-five miles from here, and I’ll make it in three hours, for I’ll hide my pack animal soon as I can, and I will be back with help in four hours more.
“That will get us here just in time, and you keep watch for all you are worth, strengthen your position all you can, have your rifles and revolvers ready, and you can fight them off, if they do attack, until we get here.”
“Don’t yer think I better go wid yer, Massa Bill?” asked a trooper, who preferred to take his chances with Buffalo Bill alone to remaining with his score of comrades.
“No, every man is wanted here.”
“Dat’s so, an’ I wishes you was goin’ ter stay, too, sah,” and this remark voiced the idea of all.
“Now, sergeant, send your men back to their posts, and let them know if they go to sleep some of them may wake up in the Indians’ happy hunting grounds.
“Then Sergeant Buck go with me to the end of the timber, for I wish a word with you.”
The troopers were sent again to their posts of duty, and the sergeant went with Buffalo Bill to a gully, by which he intended to retreat, for it was not guarded as horses could not go that way.
“Sergeant, you have done well in your fight, and I appreciate your having come to meet me. It saved me. Tell your men I want each one of them in my band of scouts, so I have my eye upon them. You may have to fight again, but do it to the death as I’ll get help to you as soon as I can. Good night, and luck.”
Buffalo Bill grasped the hand of the brave negro, who replied:
“We’ll die game, sir, if we have to; but we depend on you, Massa Bill, for you’re the only man who can save us, and you will, sir, I know you will.”
The deep voice quivered, and Buffalo Bill turned away, going rapidly down the gully to where he had left his horses.
He passed within a dozen feet of an Indian outpost of several braves, heard them talking, and the smoke of their pipes reached him, while he saw a spark of fire.
But he went on, reached his horses, mounted and rode off at a sweeping gallop toward the fort.
At length he halted and muttered:
“It is taking big chances, but I will do it. I can hide my pack horse there and it will cut off a dozen miles,if I do risk the lives of my horse and myself in making the leap, which is all of twenty feet.”
He turned off the trail, just as the moon, on the wane, rose to light his way.
A roar came to his ears, a roar of falling water, and he soon halted on the banks of a foaming stream.
“My pack horse will be safe here,” said Cody, and he quickly unsaddled the animal.
Then he stripped his own horse of his heavy Mexican saddle, laid with it his rifle and belt of arms, save one revolver, took off his boots, hunting coat, and broad-brimmed sombrero, and approached the steep banks of the river.
It was a cliff, and all of twenty feet down to the water. A quarter of a mile below was a fall over which the stream wildly rushed, and across from him a hundred yards or more lay the other shore, the banks low and sandy.
“It will save a dozen miles, Buckskin, and we can make it—we must!” he said, in his decided way, and he quickly made a bridle of his stake of rope, leaped across the bare back of his splendid horse, wheeled suddenly and rode rapidly toward the cliff.
“Now, Buckskin, make the leap, and by it save the lives of my black troopers!” cried Buffalo Bill, as he urged his horse directly out upon the mad leap.
Buckskin did not hesitate; he seemed to feel, withhis master, that only by the leap from the dizzy height could he save the lives of human beings by cutting off a dozen miles in the trail and getting help from the fort to them before they would be wiped out by the Indians.
The noble horse leaped far out from the cliff, hung in the air, it seemed, for one precious second, and then went down swiftly into the raging flood.
He struck hard, sank from sight, though Buffalo Bill held his revolver far above his head to prevent its getting wet, for those were not the days of the present improved cartridges.
Then the horse arose, and his rider guided him toward the other shore.
It was a wild current, and they were swept rapidly down toward the falls; but the horse swam with vigor, and stripped of his saddle and trappings he was not hampered, Buffalo Bill helping him with all his power.
At length, the shore was reached, the hoofs touched bottom, and Buffalo Bill dismounted to give the horse a rest.
But only for a minute, for, remounting, he set off at a sweeping gallop for the fort, from that point not half a dozen miles.
“I have saved all of an hour and a half, if not more. You did it splendidly, Buckskin,” said the scout, and coming back into the trail, he sent the horse flying along at full speed.
Within half an hour the light of the fort came into view, and it was not yet midnight.
“Ho, sentinel, let me in—I am Buffalo Bill, the scout—and sound the alarm, for help is needed at once, or Sergeant Mobile Buck and his men will all be wiped out!”
This startling salute and alarm at once roused the garrison to action, and Buffalo Bill dashed to the headquarters of Major Armes, and reported his coming to that officer and asked for three troops of the Tenth Cavalry to go to the rescue.
“God bless you, Cody, you shall have them, and within ten minutes,” cried Major Armes, and the order was given.
Within half an hour, mounted upon a fresh horse, Buffalo Bill rode away from the fort at the head of over a hundred black cavalrymen, to the rescue of Sergeant Buck and his band.
“I’ll set the pace, Captain Keyes, and those who cannot keep up can follow.
“We must make it within three hours, sir,” said Buffalo Bill, and Captain Edward Keyes answered:
“Go ahead, Cody, and we’ll be with you.”