THE STORY OF THE MASSACRE ON SPILLMAN CREEK—SCOUTS GO TO THE RESCUE—JOE AND ROB TALK OVER THE HORRID WORK OF THE SAVAGES—THE DOG SOLDIERS—CHARLEY BENT—PLACE OF RENDEZVOUS—PARTY STARTS OUT—JOE'S OPINION IS ASKED
Thefamily had lived on their comfortable ranche on the Oxhide for nearly three years. During the whole of this period the valley had been most happily exempt from any raid by the hostile Indians farther west, who for all that time had made incursions into the sparse settlements not a hundred miles away, devastating the country from Nebraska on the north to the border of Texas on the south.
General Sheridan had been ordered by the Government to the command of the Military Department of the Missouri, with headquarters at Fort Leavenworth. The already famous General Custer with his celebrated regiment, the Seventh United States Cavalry, was stationedat Fort Harker, recently established on the Smoky Hill, about four miles from Errolstrath ranche, so the settlers on the Oxhide, and through the valley, felt comparatively safe from any possible raid by the savages into that region.
One beautiful Sunday afternoon in the middle of the May following the autumn in which Joe had received his present of a full Indian dress from the friendly Pawnees, the family were sitting on the veranda of the cabin. Dinner was long since over, and Mr. Thompson was reading aloud from their weekly religious journal, when a horseman suddenly appeared, coming toward the ranche on the trail which led from the mouth of the Oxhide where it empties into the Smoky Hill. He was hatless and coatless, his long hair was streaming in the wind, and his heels were rapping his horse's flanks vigorously, and its breast and shoulders were covered with foam from the desperate gait at which it was urged.
The reading was instantly suspended, and every eye strained toward the unusual object coming toward the house at such a breakneck speed.
"I wonder who that is, and why he rides so fast," inquired Mr. Thompson, addressing himself to no one in the group in particular.
"Something unusual must have occurred," suggested Mrs. Thompson; "some one of the neighbors taken ill suddenly, maybe."
"It's no one we know," spoke up Joe. "I never saw that man before," the individual under discussion having come near enough now for his features to be distinguished, "nor the horse he's on, and I know every man and horse in the whole settlement. There's some trouble not far away, I think, or he would not run his animal that way."
In less than three minutes more, the stranger horseman rode up to the front of the house and jumped off his horse. Hurriedly tying him to the hitching-post, he ran up the steps of the veranda, and in the most excited manner, his eyes wearing a wild look and his breath coming with great difficulty, told Mr. Thompson, who had walked forward to meet him, that the Indians had completely destroyed the little settlement of Spillman Creek that morning about daylight. He alone, as far as he knew,had escaped the massacre. He said that luckily he happened to be down in the timber, getting some wood for his morning fire, and the savages did not see him. He had his pony with him, and when he saw the Indians all dressed in their war-bonnets and hideously painted, he rode to the river and across country as fast as his animal could carry him.
"How many families are there in the settlement?" inquired Mr. Thompson.
"About ten," answered the stranger; "forty individuals, perhaps, and all of them, I feel satisfied, have been murdered and their cabins burnt, because I saw the smoke and flames from the trail on the south side of the Saline as I rode hurriedly on."
"Had you no family?" asked Mrs. Thompson, excitedly, in her sympathy for the unfortunate people who had been so cruelly massacred.
"No, ma'am," answered the stranger. "I was living all alone on my claim, which I had taken up only a week ago, on the edge of the timber. My family are still back in Illinois, thank God! or they, too, with myself, would have been butchered with the rest, for I would never have left them."
"Do you think the savages will continue on their raid, and come further down the Saline valley?" inquired Mr. Thompson, who now for the first time since he had been on his ranche, felt a little alarmed for his family.
"I don't know," was the reply, "but I'm afraid they will. The Elkhorn is fairly settled, but the cabins are widely scattered; the Indians know that, and before the neighbors could rally for mutual defence, the savages might be able to murder them in detail. I have come down here to warn the settlers on this creek, and if I can, to get a party to go to the rescue of those on the Elkhorn. I stopped at Fort Harker on my way and reported to the commanding officer the state of affairs, but he said that he had only part of a company of infantry at the post, all the cavalry being out under General Custer, looking after the Indians 'way up the Smoky Hill. He suggested that I should come here to inform you people of the danger, and that, if I could muster up a crowd of men, he would furnish all the arms and ammunition necessary for them. He also said that General Sheridan was coming to Fort Harker in a fewdays to establish his headquarters there, and that a general Indian war was imminent."
"Have you any idea how many of the savages there were in the band that raided Spillman Creek settlement?" inquired Mr. Thompson.
"I think there must have been about fifty. I counted their pony tracks in the soft mud at the ford of the Saline where they crossed it; they were very plain, and I was enabled to come close to their probable number. If you could muster twenty or thirty men, well armed, who are brave, and good shots with the rifle, I believe that if they start for the Elkhorn to-day, they could circumvent the savages before they reach the creek, or at least drive them out of the neighborhood. I am ready to go back with them and act as guide, for I know every foot of the country, having spent a whole year out there before I settled upon a location. Who are the best men in this settlement, and where shall I go to warn them?"
"Well," replied Mr. Thompson, "I am willing to go for one. I guess there will be no difficulty in gathering as large a force as is necessary—good shots, too; for no one will hesitatea moment when it comes to defending his family from an Indian raid. It will take a couple of hours to ride around the neighborhood to the several ranches to notify the men. My boys, here, can go to the nearest, while you and I ride to the most remote and get as large a crowd as possible. Boys," continued he, turning to his sons, who stood with eyes wide open and mouth agape as they listened with astonishment to the terrible story of the stranger, "get your ponies at once; saddle them as quickly as ever you did in your lives, and ride to the nearest ranches on the creek; up one side and down the other. Tell all the folks the dreadful news, and tell them to have the men meet here at Errolstrath as quickly as they can, and to bring their rifles with them. All are well armed," said he, turning to the stranger, "and they will respond in a hurry."
"Now," said Mr. Thompson, as the boys jumped off of the veranda to carry out their father's order, "I will go with you to old Tucker's ranche. He is a man of most excellent judgment, and a trapper; has fought Indians all his eventful life on the plains and in the mountains,so we can safely rely on his advice in regard to what is best to be done." Looking at his wife he said, "Won't you get this man a bite to eat while I'm catching another animal for him? Yours is tired out," continued he, addressing the stranger again; "you must have a fresh horse. I've got lots of them."
While Mr. Thompson went to the stable, and the stranger to the spring to wash the dust off himself, Mrs. Thompson, assisted by Gertrude and Kate, made ready a cold lunch for the half-famished man, who told them, when he returned to the dining-room, that he had not eaten a morsel since the evening before.
By the time he had finished his meal, Mr. Thompson returned to the front of the house with two animals, and taking the stranger's horse to the stable, after the saddle had been put on the fresh one, he returned to the house. He gave his wife some advice about the boys and their mission, then he and the stranger mounted their animals and loped off at a good gait for the ranche of old Mr. Tucker, three miles away.
The boys had started some while before their father, as it only required a few minutes to catchand saddle their ponies that were picketed in front of the house, on a patch of buffalo grass not twenty yards away. In less than half an hour they were at the nearest ranche, and had delivered their message. They then rode on and made the rounds of the circuit assigned them, relating the bad news as they travelled from cabin to cabin as quickly as their hardy little Indian ponies could carry them.
While on their mission the boys talked over the story of the massacre, Joe explaining many things in connection with the savage method of making a raid on a white settlement. Those were things which Rob did not fully understand, but with which Joe was familiar, having been told all about them by the friendly Pawnees. He told Rob that he was crazy to go on the little expedition, but did not dare ask permission.
"Father might be willing, maybe," suggested Rob, "though I'm sure that mother and the girls would object."
"I'll bet that I can find the trail of the Cheyennes, for I know better than any one who is going along, that they were Cheyennes who madethe attack," said Joe. "That man who came down with the news don't know much about Indians; I could tell that by the way he talked; he's a 'tender-foot.' He admitted to papa he'd only been in the country a very short time."
"By jolly! I'll bet he was scared when he saw those Indians," said Rob; "he wasn't used to such sights!"
"How he must have ridden his horse," said Joe. "I never saw an animal so frothy in my life before; did you, Rob? You could have scraped a wash-tub of lather off him!"
"If the Cheyennes have left any kind of a trail after them, I can tell just how many there were of them," continued Joe, "but they are ahead of all other Indians in covering up their tracks; old Yellow Calf has told me so a dozen times. I expect that it was Charley Bent's band of Dog soldiers that made the raid."
"What are Dog soldiers?" inquired Rob.
"Why, the young bucks of a tribe who will not obey the orders of their chief; renegades who will not be controlled by any custom. Those Indians who have not done anything yet to make them warriors, and who go off on their own hookto murder and steal, and to fire the cabins of the poor settlers, thinking that if they can get a few scalps of women and children they will be recognized by the rest of the tribe as braves. Sometimes there are 'Squaw-men' among them, that is, white men who have married Indian women; generally bad men who have committed some crime where they used to live and dare not go back to where they came from."
"Who is Charley Bent?" asked Rob. "That is not an Indian name, surely!"
"I know it isn't," answered Joe. "He's a half breed; half white and half Cheyenne. His mother was a Cheyenne squaw, and his father was Colonel Bent, one of the most celebrated frontiersmen of his time. Charley was well educated in St. Louis, but when he returned to his father's home, at Bent's Fort, way up the Arkansas River, in what is now Colorado, he threw off the white man's dress and manner of living, joined the Indians, and became, in his devilishness, the worst savage to be found in the whole Indian country. The United States Government has offered a thousand dollars for him, dead or alive. Somebody will catch him yet;the army scouts are after him red hot, so the Pawnees told me."
"I wish the Pawnees, lots of 'em, were back on the creek, Joe," said Rob, continuing the lively conversation they had been keeping up ever since they started from the ranche; "wouldn't they like such a chance to go after their old enemies?"
"I expect they will be here sooner than usual, this coming autumn; one of the boys told me so when the band left; but it will be four months yet before we may look for them."
"Are you going to ask to go with the party to the Elkhorn, Joe?" asked Rob of his brother.
"No, I think not. I intend to be still unless some of the crowd drop a hint they'd like to have me along; then I'll speak out."
By four o'clock the boys returned to the ranche, having warned twelve families of the impending danger. All the men expressed their readiness to go with Mr. Thompson and the others to circumvent the savages on their raid. When Joe and Rob had turned their ponies out to graze and went back to the house again, they found a dozen men there already, waiting for the return of their father and the stranger. Theanxious group sat on the veranda, discussing the state of affairs, suggesting to each other what course should be pursued concerning those settlers who would have to remain in the valley with their wives and children. Uncle Dick Smith, as he was familiarly called, an old man with white hair and long white beard, who had had some experience with the savages in his earlier days in Wisconsin, suggested that while the scouting party were absent, Job Wilkersin's stone corral would be the best place for the settlers to rendezvous in case the Indians came down into the valley of the Oxhide. After some discussion, however, it was agreed to let the question remain open until Mr. Thompson and the other men should arrive.
A short time before sundown a group of horsemen could be seen coming down the trail from the north. They were those for whom the crowd at Errolstrath were anxiously looking. When they rode up to the house, headed by Mr. Thompson, they dismounted, fastened their horses to trees, and after a hurried meal which the girls had been getting ready during their father's absence, they all adjourned to the lawn outsideof the veranda, and the subject was renewed as to what those should do who were compelled to remain behind on the Oxhide. Mr. Wilkersin was among them, and as he stated his house was the largest in the neighborhood, and his big stone corral a grand place for defence in case the savages continued on their raid, it was agreed to rendezvous there. Twenty determined men in the corral could keep off a hundred Indians, and besides there was food enough at his house for every one who should go there. He further said that he would be glad to assist his friends thus much in trying times like these.
Rob, who was familiar with the location of every cabin in the settlement, was immediately despatched on a fresh horse to call on the people and communicate the result of the conference. He was to tell them where to go in the event of the Indians coming into Oxhide valley after the scouting party had left for the Elkhorn.
There were about thirty men who were obliged to remain at home; too old to undertake the fatigue of the long night's ride contemplated. They were all excellent shots, many of them having been pioneers in the settlement of the stateseast of the Mississippi when they constituted the far West.
When all the men who could be mustered for the expedition had arrived at Errolstrath, there were about fifty. Old man Tucker was unanimously chosen for their leader, with the title, by courtesy, of captain. He was a man nearly sixty-five years old, but had been early recognized by the settlers of the valley as one to whom they could look whenever the affairs of the neighborhood demanded the exercise of good judgment or sound advice. He was well educated, having graduated at Yale, but after graduation a quarrel with his father resulted in his drifting out on the frontier, where his life had been that of a trapper and hunter. He was as active as any of the young men, so his age in this case did not militate against him. He was the best rifle-shot in the valley, and if, like Davy Crockett, he failed to hit a squirrel in the eye, "it didn't count!"
The stranger from Spillman Creek was named Alderdyce, as he had informed Mr. Thompson while on the trip with him, and, as many of those who now met him for the first time desired to hear his story, he related the details of the horridmassacre again. At its sickening recital a majority became impatient of delay, and wanted to start on the trail of the savages at once, although the whole valley was flooded with the golden glow of sunset.
Joe stood modestly in the crowd, eagerly drinking in the awful story told by Mr. Alderdyce, and he noticed how anxious the scouting party was to get away. He knew that this would be the height of absurdity until night had closed in, and in all probability would defeat the very object of the expedition, so he ventured to suggest that it would be better to wait until after dark.
Old Mr. Tucker knew as well as the boy's father that Joe's judgment in matters relating to savage methods when on the war-path was far in advance of his sixteen years. His ideas and opinions commanded a consideration his age did not otherwise warrant, so the keen observation he had developed since his intimacy with the Pawnees, and the astuteness he had imbibed from them, caused Mr. Tucker to ask the boy's reasons for his suggestion.
Joe replied hesitatingly: "I believe it's better to wait until dark. The runners, as their spiesare called, of the hostile band, are, I honestly think, at this moment stationed on some of the highest points of the valley. They are watching to learn if there will be any demonstration made against the raiding band from this settlement. If this is true, and I believe it is, they should not be permitted to see our party start out. If they do discover that a number of mounted men are riding on the prairie, they will hang on their trail, keep the main band warned of every movement, and you could not effect anything. In that case you might as well stay at home."
Upon these hints so forcibly thrown out by Joe, nearly every one at once coincided with his opinion, and the captain decided to act upon the boy's judgment.
Joe, who was always an attentive listener, rarely obtruded his ideas into the conversation of his elders; in reality he was of rather a reticent disposition, a trait generally indicative of bravery, but he was ever ready to venture an opinion when asked for it, fearlessly and in great earnestness. So during the discussion of the supposed details of the morning's massacre, Captain Tucker asked him what he thought of theprobability of the savages coming down to the Elkhorn from the scene of their raid on the Spillman.
"Well, Mr. Tucker," replied Joe, "distance is never considered by an Indian. If a band start on a raid and are successful at the beginning, they will keep on a dozen miles or five hundred; it makes no difference to them; they'll wear out any animal but a wolf. If the massacre was complete, as Mr. Alderdyce thinks, they will probably keep right on murdering, scalping, and firing the cabins, until they get a setback. My own opinion is that they will go down to the Elkhorn or some other place where there is a settlement, and if successful again, will continue on and come to the Oxhide, perhaps, now they have tasted blood. But if they have met with a repulse anywhere, or learn that the United States troops are after them, they may abandon their raid and be now a hundred miles on the trail to their village."
Joe was evidently fidgety; he wanted to go along, and as the captain and his father had questioned him so earnestly on such important matters, he thought he had a right to be one ofthe party; still, he said nothing until Captain Tucker, noticing the boy's anxious countenance, asked him if he would like to go with them.
Joe answered very quickly in the affirmative, but it was with much hesitancy that his parents gave their consent. The neighbors gathered at the ranche, however, importuned very earnestly in his favor, declaring that the success of the expedition might depend materially upon their decision whether the boy should go or not. Of course, to resist such an appeal was out of the question, coming as it did almost unanimously from their friends, so Joe was permitted to accompany the party.
Hurriedly did the delighted boy go out to the corral and saddle his favorite pony, a coal-black little animal, very swift, full of endurance, sure-footed as a mule, and as obedient to the touch of its young master's hand and legs as a well-trained circus horse. Soon returning, he tied him with the other animals to a tree and then went into the house to prepare himself for the venturesome trip.
Coming back on the veranda in a few moments dressed in the buckskin suit given him by the old chief Yellow Calf, he looked the very impersonationof a veteran frontiersman, and but for his childish face might have passed for a veritable army scout. He slung his rifle across the horn of his saddle; its complement of bullets in his pouch he fastened to the cantle, while the powder-flask was suspended by a cord thrown over his shoulder. He also carried his flint and steel, thinking he might have occasion to use it, and with a small lantern was ready for whatever he might be called upon to do.
As the welcome darkness would not come for an hour yet, the party kept their animals concealed in the thick timber near the cabin. They sat quietly in the shadow of the veranda, so that if there were any of the hostile spies in the vicinity, as Joe had suggested there might be, they would not be able to observe any unusual demonstration on the place, as the house was completely masked by the giant trees surrounding it.
Line of horsemen"He looked the very impersonation of a veteran frontiersman."
By eight o'clock it was dark enough to venture out, and the party quietly mounted their horses, and strung out in single file down the narrow trail leading from the ranche to the ford of the Smoky Hill. Tucker, Joe, and Alderdyce were at the head of the line. Every one was familiarwith the trail as far as the river, for it was the main travelled track to the village of Ellsworth. It was six miles from Errolstrath, and contained a general store, a blacksmith shop, and the post office for all the surrounding country.
The ford crossed the Smoky Hill about two miles east of the little hamlet, but the party did not follow the trail up the river. They took a shorter cut over the hills bordering the stream where there was a series of buffalo paths running northward in the direction they wanted to go. They thus saved a détour of three or four miles, an important consideration where time was of the greatest consequence. The buffalo paths all came out on the other side of the high divide separating the Saline from the Smoky Hill. A short distance beyond the summit of the ridge, and down a gradual slope, was one of the valleys of the several tributaries which gave the many-branched stream called the Elkhorn, its suggestive name.
After the party had forded the Smoky Hill, the country was unknown to all excepting Alderdyce and Joe. The latter had often accompanied the Pawnees on their hunts as far as the Salineand Paradise creeks, twenty-five miles from the Oxhide.
All had been travelling up to that point in groups of twos and threes on the flat river bottom, but now again they strung out in Indian file, following Joe and Alderdyce slowly up the divide and down on the other side. They then all moved out more rapidly into a short, quick lope as the ground was more level for several miles. At the end of the level stretch they halted, as they were approaching the beginning of the limestone region.
Following Joe's advice they dismounted and muffled the hoofs of their horses with gunny sacks which they had brought for that purpose, in order to prevent the sound of the animals' feet from being heard by any of the savage runners.
This wise precaution was frequently employed by the scouts of the army with General Sheridan during his celebrated winter campaign against the allied tribes of the plains, when the troops were obliged to travel at night through the enemy's country.
It was soon after they had passed the limestone region that a heavy rolling prairie, over whichthe trail ran up one slope and down another of the rocky divides, separated the narrow intervales between. Most of the time it was a hard, killing pace for the poor horses, as they had travelled for hours continuously without a halt, excepting to muffle their feet. The settlement must be reached before daylight, or perhaps it would be too late to thwart the murderous schemes of the Indians, who always chose the early hours of the dawn in which to commit their atrocities. At that time when sleep oppresses most heavily, life and death were the issue, and the tired animals could not be mercifully spared. Would they be able to hold out with ten miles of the same cruel lope ahead of them, before the breaks of the main Elkhorn would be reached?
There was an hour more of severe riding, during which the heels of the riders and the sharp sting of the quirt were often called into requisition to urge the jaded animals on to their hard duty. They were flecked with foam, their nostrils distended, and they were almost worn out when the terribly earnest men rode down the last divide into the grassy bottom of the first branch of the main Elkhorn.
The faintest streaks of the coming dawn were beginning to show themselves; the summits of the Twin Mounds, capped with white limestone, already reflected the rosy tinge of the rising sun, which was still far below the horizon of the valley. The beautiful intervales, through which the party urged their horses, were covered with buffalo grass, and at the farther end, not quite half a mile distant, the fringe of timber bordering the creek could be distinguished as its dark contour cast a still blacker shadow over the sombre valley.
There the party halted for a few moments to reconnoitre. Captain Tucker again had occasion to interrogate Joe. He inquired of the young trailer what would be the first acts of the savages when they arrived in the valley of the Elkhorn, if indeed they came at all.
"Well, Mr. Tucker," replied the boy, "the first thing the Indians would do—they'd hide themselves in the timber; lie down in the grass, probably, and then send out one or more of their runners, the very best they had with them, to sneak around and watch for a chance to make a break together on the cabins. Then, if the outlookwas favorable, and none of the settlers were stirring, they'd go from cabin to cabin, murdering, scalping, and firing the buildings as fast as they could."
"Well, then," said the captain, as he took both of the boy's hands in his own, and gazed into his bright face, "you know that all the settlers on the Oxhide, and your own folks, too, say that you are as much of an Indian as if you had been born in a tepee, so far as savage education is concerned. Now, I've been talking to your father, and he agrees with me; I want you to do some dangerous work, or at least it is somewhat risky. You are the only one among us all who can do it as it should be done. It is this. While we remain here in the shadow of the timber to blow our animals and graze them a little, I want you to cross the creek on foot, and go up to Spillman Ford with Alderdyce, who will show you where it intersects this branch of the Elkhorn, and try to discover, if you can, by the dim light, any signs of Indians. I'm inclined to think they have not come down into this valley at all. But I want you to find out where they are, if possible. If you do not find any track of them, afterwe have rested our horses and warned the settlers of the danger, we will all go on to the scene of the massacre, and there you will be sure to learn where they have gone."
Joe and Alderdyce turned over their horses to one of the men who were on guard watching the animals while they fed on the rich buffalo grass, and then started on foot for the ford of the Elkhorn leading to Spillman Creek. It was about a mile, and during the walk, Joe and Alderdyce talked over the affair of the morning. Joe asked his companion to tell him exactly what the commanding officer had said to him when he reported the massacre to him at Fort Harker.
"Well, Joe, I will tell you just what he told me. He said that General Sheridan had ordered a company of Custer's regiment of mounted troopers to be sent to the Elkhorn valley and to remain there until the settlers were advised to come in, or the proposed Indian war was ended."
"Now I have an idea," said Joe to him. "We shall not find any Indians on this trip; the cavalry have already started for the valley, and the savages have got wind of it and havegone back to their village, probably, a hundred miles south of the Arkansas. But, anyhow, we'll go on up to the ford and learn what we can."
When they reached the crossing, not a sign of a pony's hoof could be discovered, and both gave a sigh of relief as they now knew that none of the savages had come down towards the Elkhorn. They hurried back to their party, and Joe reported that he had not seen a sign.
"Good enough," said Captain Tucker, as he listened to the good news. "Now, men," continued he, turning and addressing himself to the party who had gathered near him to learn what report Joe and Alderdyce might bring, "we will remain here for another hour, and after warning some of the prominent settlers in the valley, we will go up to the head of Spillman Creek and see what is to be discovered there. Who knows but some one may be found hidden in the brush, not daring to come out. We may be able to save a life or two yet."
ARRIVAL OF CAVALRY ON THE ELKHORN—A DEER HUNT—WHAT THE SCOUTS SAW—THE STORY OF THE TWO LITTLE GIRLS—THE DEAD AND WOUNDED—MEN HIDDEN IN THE BRUSH—AN INDIAN LEGEND—ARRIVAL OF THE INFANTRY—THE DEER HUNT IN THE MORNING—DEATH OF THE DEER
Justas the sun appeared above the top of the Twin Mounds, Joe, who could not keep quiet when among the timber or on the prairie, was scouting around on his own hook, while the remainder of the party was lying on the grass eating the cold breakfast they had brought from Errolstrath. Suddenly he rushed down to them, and yelled at the top of his voice:—
"The cavalry are coming! I saw the gleam of their carbines on the ridge about a mile away toward the trail to Fort Harker."
Every man was on his feet in an instant; and sure enough, in a few minutes they heard the clanging of sabres and the sound of the hoofs of approaching horses. Presently a fine-lookingset of men wearing the fatigue uniform of the United States Cavalry, splendidly mounted on sleek bay animals, swung around the point of timber where Captain Tucker and his scouts from the Oxhide valley were standing. The trumpeter sounded the "Halt," and in another moment the horses, in obedience to the signal, stood still as if petrified, while the commander of the troop, Colonel Keogh, of Custer's famous regiment, rode forward and talked with Captain Tucker, whom he had at once recognized as the leader of the scouts.
They conversed for some moments, each giving the other what information he had of the movements of the Indians. Then the Colonel told Captain Tucker that his orders were to camp on the Elkhorn with his company, and scout through the valley, protecting the settlers. He said that a detachment of infantry was also ordered to the creek, and was to remain there, while he with his mounted men would move from point to point, and thus prevent the savages from making another raid in that part of the country. He thanked Captain Tucker for the promptness with which he and his neighborshad responded to the appeal of Alderdyce. He said that now the cavalry were there the men might go home feeling assured that no more attacks were to be feared from the Indians, and that General Sheridan would soon have enough soldiers under his command to whip thoroughly the allied tribes, and force them to a peace which they would be glad to keep.
Captain Tucker told the Colonel how bright Joe was in relation to Indian affairs, and what a great hunter he had already become. After Colonel Keogh had himself conversed with Joe, he took a great fancy to him. He told him that he was going on a deer hunt just as soon as he was settled in camp, and the infantry had arrived, and he invited Joe to be one of the party.
Joe thanked the Colonel, and spoke modestly of the compliments which had been paid him by Captain Tucker. He promised that he would certainly go on the hunt with him, and be delighted to do so.
He spoke up boldly: "When do you expect to go, Colonel? I know there are lots of red deer and elk, too, on the Elkhorn, and this isa good time to find them; I've been here with the Pawnees often."
The Colonel said: "The infantry, in all probability, will reach the creek some time this evening, as they were getting ready for the march when I left Fort Harker with my troop. Suppose, Joe, we say the day after to-morrow? You can remain here with me; I have buffalo robes, and you shall have a bed in my tent. So go and ask your father at once and come back to me as quick as you can and report his answer. You'll find me somewhere about the camp. My tent is not yet put up, but you will know it when it is, by its similarity to an Indian tepee. It is called a 'Sibley,' and was patterned after the Sioux lodge by its inventor, an officer of the army of that name."
Joe, wild with delight, ran off to find his father, to whom he told of the invitation, and finding that no objections were made, thanked him for his permission to remain.
Captain Tucker had informed the Colonel that as his men and animals were sufficiently rested, and the horses filled with the rich grass, he intended to go to the scene of the massacre with Alderdyce,to find whether any of the settlers were hiding and not daring to show themselves, or if any of the wounded were still living. Should he find any of the latter, he would return by way of Fort Harker and notify the commanding officer, so that he might send an ambulance for them and medical assistance.
Telling his men of his intentions, they immediately brought in their horses and saddled them. They then mounted, and rode slowly west toward Spillman Creek, which was about seven or eight miles from the Elkhorn. Joe, of course, went with them, as they wanted him to find out which way the Indians had gone after committing their devilish deeds. He intended to leave the party at the ford of the Elkhorn on its return, and to join Colonel Keogh.
In about two hours the party arrived at the mouth of Spillman Creek, and the first evidence of the acts of the savages confronted the men. Riding up to a small cabin which the Indians had not consigned to the torch, no doubt having missed it on their fiendish rounds, they discovered two little girls crouched in one of its dark corners. One of them was only six years old, andher sister but eight. They were very bright for their age, and told a wonderfully sad story of their escape from the Indians. They said that a big band of savages rode up to their home very early in the morning; that their father and mother were not yet out of bed. The Indians killed both of them, and after setting the house on fire, threw the children on their ponies and rode off. Coming to the top of a high hill, they saw a company of soldiers in the distance, and they then dropped them on the prairie and hurried away as fast as their ponies could run. The girls were not hurt at all. They wandered on, frightened nearly to death, and seeing the cabin down in the valley, they went to it and slept there all night. They had waked very early in the morning, and on going out of doors, saw the wild grapes growing on the vines at the creek; they ate some for their breakfast, but soon hearing the sound of horses' hoofs, and thinking the Indians were coming to look for them, they crawled back into the corner where the scouts had found them.
Captain Tucker and the rest of the scouts were in a dilemma at first when they found themselves with the two little orphaned children on theirhands; and they did not know exactly what to do. But soon Joe's excellent judgment manifested itself. He proposed that one of the men should be sent back to Colonel Keogh's camp to tell him of their discovery, and ask him to send his ambulance out to take the children to Fort Harker, where they would be cared for by the kind ladies of the post.
The suggestion was acted upon at once. Every man volunteered to go, so it was left to the Captain to select one. This he did, started him off, and left Mr. Thompson to stay with the little girls until the arrival of the ambulance. He and the others of the party then rode up on the valley of Spillman Creek, as the savages appeared to have confined their atrocities to that narrow region.
As they were riding close to the bank of the stream, about three miles from where they had found the two girls, they saw a wagon with the horses still attached. As they came up to it for a closer examination, two men, both of whom were known to Alderdyce, came out of the underbrush.
They had a story to tell, too. Early in themorning they were on their way to examine a claim on the Spillman, when they perceived at only a short distance from them, what appeared to be a body of soldiers. They were all dressed in blue blouses, and were marching four abreast just as the cavalry do. The men stopped for a moment to get a closer view as they rode up the divide, when to their horror they discovered the supposed soldiers to be a band of Indians. They turned their team about, and made for the nearest timber on the creek and hid themselves. Next morning they still decided to remain in ambush until they saw some white people. They had plenty of food with them, so they had remained until they were discovered by Captain Tucker's scouts. Learning that all was safe, they climbed into their wagon, whipped up the team, and drove away. Presently the scouts came to the remains of a cabin, partly destroyed by fire, where they discovered the dead bodies of a man and woman, probably husband and wife. These they decently buried and rode on.
They next found the body of a young man, dead in his field, where he had evidently been at work when the savages surprised him. He wasmurdered with his own hatchet, which was found by his side, his face having been chopped until it was not recognizable. His body was interred too.
It is useless to relate all that the scouts saw on their mission of discovery up the Spillman. In all, thirty bodies were found, and some dozen or more persons who had been wounded and had managed to hide after the savages had supposed them to be dead. During the next twenty-four hours these were gathered and taken to the hospital at the fort. Some recovered, but the majority died.
The party returned to Colonel Keogh's camp, because they had discovered so much that it was thought best he should know. When they arrived there they learned that the little girls had been sent to the fort under an escort of a squad of the troopers, and they also found Mr. Thompson in the camp waiting for them.
After winding their horses for about half an hour, all returned to Errolstrath, with the exception of Joe, who remained to go on the proposed hunt when the infantry arrived.
Colonel Keogh's tent was already pitched,and Joe sat in there with him discussing the atrocities on Spillman Creek and the deer hunt.
"Colonel," said Joe, "you know that deer have no gall-bladder and the antelope no dew-claws. Did you ever hear the Indian legend about the reason?"
"I know the deer have no gall-bladder and the antelope no dew-claws, but I don't think I have ever heard the reason. What do the Indians say about it, Joe?"
"Well, old Yellow Calf, the chief of the band of Pawnees which has camped on our creek ever since we have lived there, told me that a long time ago a deer and an antelope met on the prairie near the Great Bend of the Arkansas. At that time both animals had a gall and dew-claws. They fell to talking together and bragging how fast each could run. The deer claimed that he could outstrip the antelope, and the antelope that he could beat the deer. They got awfully mad at each other, and finally determined they would try their speed. The stakes were their galls, and the trial was made on the open prairie. The antelope beat the deer and tookthe deer's gall. The deer felt very unhappy at his defeat, and he became so miserable over it, that the antelope felt sorry for him, and to cheer him up took off both his dew-claws and gave them to the deer. Ever since then the deer has had no gall-bladder, and the antelope no dew-claws.
"I met some Kaws once, and I told them what the Pawnees had told me about it, and the chief of that band said the story the Pawnees had told was only partly correct. The Kaw chief's version was that after the antelope had won the race, the deer said to him, 'You have won, but that race was not fair, for it was over the prairie. We ought to try again in the woods to decide which of us is really the faster.' So the antelope agreed to run the second race, and on it they bet their dew-claws. The deer beat the antelope that time, because he could run faster than the antelope through the timber, over the fallen trunks of trees, and in the thick underbrush, and he took the antelope's dew-claws."
"Well, Joe, that is a very funny story; I never heard it before." Then, looking out of the front of his tent, the Colonel turned to Joe, and said,"There comes the company of infantry, so we may go on our hunt to-morrow."
Joe ran out and watched the infantry as they filed into the timber. It was after sundown, but far from dark. The men were soon settled in their tents, their camp-kettles bubbling over the fires, and preparations in full swing for their evening meal.
Joe wandered among the troops and soon picked up an acquaintance with them. They admired his Indian suit, and earnestly listened to the tale of his adventures with the Pawnees. Presently he was called by the Colonel's orderly to come to supper. He went back to the Sibley tent, where he sat down at the table with Colonel Keogh and his two lieutenants.
Their simple table was improvised out of the end gates of two of the wagons, and the cook, a colored soldier, had managed to provide an excellent meal, and as Joe was very hungry, he did ample justice to it.
When the trumpets and the bugles sounded the retreat, Joe went out with the Colonel, who inspected the men to see that everything was in good order for the night. They then returnedto their canvas quarters, where the Colonel smoked his pipe, and again discussed to-morrow's hunt with the boy.
They were to make a very early start in the morning, so, as soon as "taps" had sounded, which meant that all lights must be put out and the soldiers retire to their tents, the Colonel suggested to Joe that he had better go to bed, while he would sit up a while and write out his report to the commander at Fort Harker. Calling in the orderly, the Colonel told him to fix up a sleeping-place for the boy. The man spread four heavy buffalo robes on the floor of the tent, and putting two blankets on top, the bed was ready for Joe, who tumbled into it and was soon fast asleep.
When the trumpeter sounded the reveille, at the first streak of dawn the next morning, the Colonel, who had already risen, called Joe, who bounded out of his soft bed like a cat. Breakfast was ready in a few moments, and after he and the Colonel had eaten, and the latter had given his orders to the officer who was to command the camp during his absence, Joe and he started out on foot for the hunt.
The night had been cold, and although it was the middle of May, the white rime of the late frost covered the earth. It was a good omen, as the sharp footprints of the animals could be more easily distinguished.
Carefully examining their rifles and cartridges as they walked briskly on, they soon struck the main branch of the Elkhorn, and continued along its margin in a southerly direction for a mile or more, when they came to a little opening.
There Joe suddenly stopped, and turning to Colonel Keogh, who had on the instant also halted, said, "Doesn't that look a little deerish, Colonel?"
The Colonel, though a good shot and hunter, could distinguish nothing out of the ordinary after scrutinizing the ground to which the boy had pointed. The earth looked the same everywhere in the Colonel's eyes.
"Here!" said Joe, as, noticing the bewildered appearance of his new friend, he turned over a fallen cottonwood leaf with his foot. There the Colonel saw, after carefully stooping down, the very faint impress of a hoof.
"Is that a fresh track, Joe?" he asked.
"You may be sure it is," replied Joe, "and only about an hour old!"
"Well, I wantthatdeer," said Colonel Keogh, enthusiastically. He rose from a stump on which he had been sitting for a few moments, with his rifle across his knees, and started quickly for a little patch of box-elder not a hundred yards distant.
"Hold on, Colonel!" said Joe, cautiously; "the deer isn't there now. Don't you see his hoof-marks point the other way? Look, here's where he's nibbled the grass," pointing with his rifle to a strip of bunch-grass in the opposite direction from the box-elders. "Let's go on, Colonel; deer don't stay long in one spot so early in the day, and if we don't get a move on us, it may be hours before we can get a shot at 'em."
They trudged on for about a mile and a half, walking side by side, the Colonel telling the boy some of his experiences in the war of the Rebellion. Suddenly Joe, touching the Colonel's shoulder, said, "Hark!" in a hoarse whisper, at the same instant elevating his head like a stag-hound that has just winded game. Inanother minute they heard a rustling as though something were stepping on dead leaves.
"There's a buck deer in there, and a big one, too," said Joe, in a whisper, as he pointed to a bunch of upland willows whose slender tops were oscillating slowly as if disturbed by a gentle breeze, though there was not a breath of wind blowing. "He's probably got a half dozen or more does around him, and if we are mighty careful, we may both get a shot."
The willow copse was on the top of a little knoll, and the ground was smooth on the side of it where the Colonel and Joe stood. Here and there at intervals were great trees, but without any underbrush to snap under their feet as they quietly trod over the soft, black soil.
At Joe's suggestion, he and the Colonel separated, widening the distance between them to about twenty paces, Colonel Keogh on the right of Joe. They crept on as silently as savages on the trail of an enemy, and soon arrived at the base of the elevation, which was only some fifty yards to its crest. There they noticed that the dark earth had been cut up in every direction by the sharp, delicate foot-marks of the creaturessupposed to be in front of them. A significant glance rapidly passed from one to the other as they drew nearer their quarry.
At that juncture, just as they reached the edge of the copse, each masked himself behind a good-sized cottonwood, which seemed to have grown where it did for their especial use. The Colonel in his enthusiasm could not repress the remark in a whisper to Joe:—
"Look there, Joe. There's a dozen deer!"
Sure enough, right in front of them were a dozen fat does lying down ruminating their morning meal. The old buck, the guardian of the whole herd, was standing up as if watching over his charge, and stamping the ground with his sharp hoofs to drive off the buffalo gnats that swarmed thickly around him.
In another instant, at a signal previously agreed upon, a low whistle from the Colonel, the rifles of the hunters were discharged simultaneously, and all but two of the terribly frightened animals bounded off through the timber.
Before the echoes of the pieces had died away, Joe was among the struggling deer with his hunting-knife, cutting their throats while theywere yet in their death throes. The stately buck had been the Colonel's game, and he asked Joe to take its head to the ranche so that the Pawnees, when they arrived in the autumn, could preserve it with its magnificent set of antlers, which he desired to keep as a trophy of their hunt.
It was but a little more than two miles to camp, and they did not have to wait more than an hour for a wagon to arrive, as the driver had been told by the Colonel to start the moment the sharp double report of the rifles reached his ears. The dead animals were soon loaded into it, and the proud hunters walked leisurely alongside of it, back to camp, arriving there before eleven o'clock.
The deer were skinned by Joe. The meat was cut up into saddles and haunches, and hung on the limb of a great tree, to secure it from the prowling wolves, who already scented blood and began to make their appearance on the bluffs, so keen is the nose of that vicious and cowardly brute. The Colonel had brought with him from the fort, half a dozen hounds, among them some of General Custer's celebrated animals, but theywere left tied up in camp that morning, as the Colonel had decided to make a still hunt the first day, and to chase with the dogs the next.
That evening, just as all were about to roll themselves up in their blankets, a scout arrived from Fort Harker with the intelligence that the Cheyennes and the Kiowas, under the leadership of the bloodthirsty Sa-tan-ta, the notorious war-chief, had made a raid upon the settlements near Council Grove, and Custer was leaving at once for the field with his regiment. As Colonel Keogh's company was part of it, he must return to Fort Harker immediately, and another detachment of colored infantry were on their way to take its place on the Elkhorn.
All was bustle in a few moments. Tents were struck, and in less than an hour the cavalry command was on its way, Joe riding at the head of the column with the Colonel.
They arrived at Fort Harker long before daylight, and Joe bade the Colonel good by and rode on to Errolstrath, where he pulled up his pony just as his father and Rob were coming out of the house to go to the spring to wash themselves.
The boy was gladly welcomed back by all the family, and they sat at the table for more than an hour after they finished eating their breakfast, listening to Joe's experiences at the scene of the massacre, and his hunt with Colonel Keogh.