CHAPTER XV
THE COMING OF THE SIOUX
McGuirehad been at Plainfield just a month, and had begun to believe that the place was not so dangerous after all. He was watching the sunset, and the darkness deepening upon the desert waste one evening, when he saw a speck upon the plain just where the earth met the sky. It was a shapeless bunch, too big for a wolf and too small, he thought, for a horse. As he looked it moved along the plain to the north-west and soon disappeared in the gathering gloom. The agent was still seated upon the box at the door of the depot when a big black bunch showed up just where the other smaller object had disappeared. Nearer and nearer it came, and finally stopped a few hundred yards from the station shanty. Two horsemen rode out of the black spot and approached the station. They had feathers in their hair and rifleson their arms, seeing which, the agent brought out his rifle and let it rest upon his lap. A hundred yards from the station the two men stopped and called to the agent in a strange tongue, and when he made no reply they rode slowly up to the little station. They made sign for drink, but the man stood at the door and shook his head. They would eat, but the agent refused to understand, and one of the Indians started to enter the station. The agent sprang inside, slammed the door and shoved his rifle out through the small square hole in the centre of the shutter. The Indians climbed upon their cayuses, wiggled their heels, and rode slowly back to where the band was waiting. McGuire listened at the shed door, and in a little while heard the unshod feet of the Indian ponies beating the dusty plain. They seemed to have separated, and were now galloping to surround the station. Peeping through the small port-holes the agent could see the dark line of horses closing in upon the little wooden shanty. Turning to the key he called Kearney and told them that he was being surrounded by the Sioux. Major North was notified, andstarted a company of scouts for Plainfield. The operator called McGuire, but got no answer, and all believed that the young station-master had been killed immediately after sending his Macedonian message. McGuire was busy. He had opened the exercises himself, firing first from one side and then from the other, to show the enemy that he was numerous and well armed. The Indians returned the fire, and the lead fairly hailed upon the house. They had charged the station, but some of the horses having been hit by the bullets fired from the stuffed walls, the Sioux fell back. They had no thought, however, of abandoning the fight, and before McGuire had succeeded in reloading his fire-arms they charged again. This time they reached the shanty, and, dismounting, beat upon the sand-filled doors in a vain effort to batter them down. The agent had been almost panic stricken at the sound of the first volley that rattled like rain upon the boarded sides of the little depot, but now all feeling of fear had left him, and he determined to give a good account of himself. Dodging from one part of the building to another he kept pouring the leadout through the narrow port-holes until the Indians were driven away again. Many were wounded, some were dead, and the rest desperate. Leaving their horses out of range of the agent’s rifle, the band concentrated their efforts upon the front door. By the sound of the bullets that hailed upon the house, the agent could tell that they were coming only from one direction, and so kept his place at the side of the shanty nearest the track. He could hear them ripping boards from the framework of the water tank, and with them beating upon the heavy door. Upon the low table he had arranged boxes of cartridges and now stood in the dark room loading and emptying his revolvers. The noise of the assault upon the outer walls of the wooden building became deafening, and the horror of his surroundings almost chilled the blood of the besieged; but he had nothing to hope for at the hands of these desperate Indians, and so fought on doggedly, leaving the rest with God, the despatcher, and Major North.
Suddenly they hit the door a blow that shook the walls and the very floor of the house. Theyhad succeeded in loosening a tie, and with it were ramming the shanty. At the same time the agent became aware of smoke in the station, and instantly started for his tunnel. They had fired the shed at the rear while assaulting the front, and the smoke almost choked McGuire as he groped his way to the opening. Through cracks in the roof he could see the fire eating its way. Already the outer wall had burned off, the sand had fallen out, and now the end of a cross-tie was driven through the ceiling, and fell, amid a shower of sparks and burning splinters, upon the floor at the agent’s feet.
The front door now gave way under the heavy blows, but smoke and flames filled the place and made it impossible for the Indians to enter. As McGuire took to the tunnel he heard the yell of victory that went up from the wild band as the door fell in.
In a few moments McGuire, almost exhausted and gasping for breath, found himself in the base of the tank. When he had rested himself, he climbed to the top of the tank and, peeping from a small window, saw the painted devilsprancing over the plain waiting impatiently for him to come from the burning building. In the light of the flaming station he could see them plainly, and he longed to make targets of their feathered heads, but he feared to attract their notice.
As the flames devoured the little pine house and the heat grew less intense, the blood-thirsty band peered into the ruins, and when they could see no sign of the late occupant of the place, began circling round, searching in the sage-brush for the missing man. Satan seemed to have inspired one of the imps at this moment, for, taking a brand from the ruined station, he ran and placed it against the tank. When McGuire saw what the Sioux had done he gave him a shot, and so published the secret of his hiding-place.
The moment he had fired he realized his mistake, for when once they had discovered him there would be no shadow of a show for him. Those of the Indians who had heard the shot and had seen the Sioux fall, ran about the tank looking for the agent. Presently one of the savages stopped and pointed toward the top ofthe tank. A great crowd had now collected, and when they had jabbered about the dead Indian, the tank, and the telegrapher for a few moments they threw up their guns and sent a shower of shot against the wooden structure. The agent, crouching close to the water tub, kept out of the way and held his fire. Presently he heard them batter the door down. A moment later he knew that they were climbing up the narrow ladder. He waited at the top, and when the first feathered head showed above the landing at the bottom of the tank proper he brought the barrel of his rifle down and the Sioux fell upon the one following him, knocking him from the ladder, and so they all went tumbling to the ground. Leaning from his hiding-place, McGuire emptied a six-shooter into the confused band, and they were glad enough to escape, dragging their dead and wounded with them. Being sure of the whereabouts of the white man, the Indians determined to have him out at any cost. While the major part of the band trained their guns upon the tank, a half-dozen Indians carried fire-brands and heaped them up against the framework. Thesplinters of the broken door were used for kindling, and soon the flames were running up the side of the tank, lighting up the plain for five hundred yards around.
With a sinking heart McGuire saw the semi-circle of light from his funeral-pyre drive the darkness from the desert, and knew that in a little while he must choose between this burning refuge and the blood-thirsty band below. The fight, of which he had been so full a few moments ago, had all gone out of him, and for the first time in his life he lost heart. He was so appalled at the thought of the awful death that awaited him that it became a labor to breathe. His limbs grew leaden. His rifle was so heavy that he laid it down, and, leaning over the top of the tank, ran his fingers through his hair and was surprised that it was tangled and wet, like fine grass heavy with dew. Clasping his empty hands he lifted his eyes to heaven to ask for help, but his glance was arrested at the horizon where a big star burned above the plain. As he looked the star grew brighter, and he was reminded of the story of a world that had been as hopelessly lost as heseemed now, when a star burned in the east and the world was saved. Suddenly behind the star a yellow light flared, fan-shaped, from the earth, and he knew that the star was the headlight of a locomotive and the flash was from the furnace where the fireman was shovelling coal for dear life. Now the rails that were glistening in the glare of the headlight and bridging the darkness to the edge of the light of the burning tank began to sing, and the Indians took warning and fled into the darkness.
“Too late, too late!” said the captain of the scouts, who was riding in the cab.
The engineer made no reply, but tugged at the throttle, that was already wide open, and kept his eyes fixed upon the burning building. “That will do,” he said to the fireman as the light of his head-lamp reached the other light. He made a motion with his left hand as of a man drinking, and the fireman put on the left-hand pump to save the boiler, for the water was low in the lower gauge.
“Too late, too late!” mused McGuire, as the flames climbed to the top and a redtongue lipped the edge of the tank as a mad dog laps a running brook. Until now he had not thought of trying to escape, for only death had waited at the bottom, but seeing the Sioux hunting cover, he peered over the edge, and the smoke and flames were all about the ladder. Now the fire burst through and the smoke came up blinding and hot, and he took a last stand on the narrow bridge that ran over the top of the water tub. As he climbed up his hands touched the water in the tank, which till now he had not thought of. The tank was level full, and with his hands he began to scoop the water out, and in a little while succeeded in checking the fire that was eating round to the rear; but it was too far advanced in front, next to the track, to be put out so easily. With a great effort he managed to reach the rope that was fixed to the valve in the bottom of the tank, and when he had opened it the great volume of water rushed out and deadened the fire, so that by staying in the bottom of the empty tank McGuire was able to survive until the captain of the scouts and a couple of Pawnees reached the top of the charredstructure and carried him, almost lifeless, into the fresh open air.
“Little emergency runs like that,” said the superintendent to the engineer afterwards, “make men appreciate the value of time.”