Part 20 (1/2)
We used our spurs and whips to encourage our poor beasts, which were already showing signs of ”knocking-up.”
From a glance I took of the pursuing foe, I saw that they were a large band, against whom it would be useless to make a stand. If overtaken they would to a certainty kill us for the sake of our scalps. They were getting nearer and nearer; I looked out anxiously for the fort. At length the flag appeared in sight; it was a cheering spectacle.
”Oh, ma.s.sa, ma.s.sa, go on!” I heard Dio cry out in an anxious tone. I turned round; it seemed to me that already the savages were almost near enough to reach us with their arrows. None of us required urging, but our panting beasts could scarcely keep their legs. A few moments more and we might have a shower of missiles whizzing about our heads. On we went until we could see the top of the stockades and the buildings in the fort. Still the Indians followed, their dreadful war-whoop burst on our ears, making our horses tremble. It was enough to do so, for no more terrific sound had I ever heard. At length, when it seemed that we had no chance of escaping, I saw the gate of the fort open, and a party of hors.e.m.e.n streaming forth came galloping towards us: the Indians saw them too. They approached, and as they did so opened their ranks to let us pa.s.s through them, and then with a loud cheer, das.h.i.+ng forward, they charged the enemy. The savages wheeled and fled, but before the troopers could get up to them the recall was sounded. The commandant evidently well knew the danger of pursuing so wily a foe, who only fled that they might turn round at a favourable moment, or that they might lead their pursuers into an ambush. Soon after the trumpet-call had been heard and the cavalry had begun to retire, a far larger band than those who had followed us appeared on the brow of a hill about half a mile to the southward.
One of the men cried out that, from their dress and appearance, they were Cheyennes and Arapahoes, first-rate hors.e.m.e.n. We could see them clearly against the sky flouris.h.i.+ng their spears, their chiefs riding backwards and forwards in front of their ranks, evidently encouraging them to come on and attack us. These ”buffalo Indians,” as they are called, from spending their time in chase of the s.h.a.ggy monsters of the prairie, are accustomed to the saddle from their childhood. They use no reins, but guide their horses by pressing their heels on whichever side they wish them to turn, consequently both hands and arms are free to use their weapons as may be requisite. They carry long spears and powerful bows, which can shoot their arrows to a great distance, and in their belts tomahawks, with which they can deal the most deadly blows in a hand to hand combat. In battle they secure themselves to their saddles, so that they can bend down on their horses' sides, and thus entirely hide themselves from the view of their enemies, as they dash forward in the fight, thus also avoiding the bullets aimed at them. Even when wounded they are carried away off the field, unless their steeds are shot down. Our small party of retreating cavalry did not at first perceive the enemy gathering in their rear, until the trumpet again sounded, when they halted and faced about. It was not a moment too soon. Scarcely had they done so, than down swept the savages like a whirlwind towards them, led by a tall chief with a plume of dark feathers waving above his head, on a white horse, whooping and shrieking in the most diabolical manner. We could see their faces through our gla.s.ses, and fierce and terrible they looked, as they held their lances poised, or their bows bent ready to shoot as they got within range. Our rear-guard, who were acting as skirmishers, fired, and then fell back on the main body, with the exception of two or three, who as they were retreating fell pierced by arrows shot at them from the ranks of the approaching enemy. Our cavalry were far outnumbered.
On came the savages, a flight of arrows filled the air, and then, with reiterated whoops and shrieks, the Indians swooped down upon us. With sorrow, not unallied with dismay, we saw several of our friends fall from their saddles, while every trooper was engaged in a deadly struggle with a dozen foes. Amid the smoke of the fire-arms, we could see the spears thrusting, sabres and tomahawks gleaming, pistols flas.h.i.+ng, horses plunging and rearing, while shouts and cries rent the air. It was too evident that our party were getting the worst of it and were being forced back, over the ground towards the fort. Fresh hordes were seen coming on, probably those who had before retreated. Again the trumpet sounded the recall. The commandant now summoned every available man in the fort; some to garrison the pits, others to advance to the support of the cavalry.
We had dismounted and were soon joined by my father and Uncle Denis, with about twenty men led by the commandant himself. We advanced rapidly in two parties, so as to allow the troopers to pa.s.s between us.
My father took command of one of the parties. As we advanced we could see horses and men struggling on the ground, many pierced through and through with arrows; the tall chief stooping down from his horse, seized one poor fellow and lifting him up, struck him a deadly blow with his tomahawk and then hurled him back lifeless.
Some of the troopers, unable to extricate themselves, were still fighting bravely and dearly selling their lives, while those who could, obeying the recall, came galloping back. The Indians, now seeing us advance, the tall chief, das.h.i.+ng forward, with poised spear, was about to pierce my father, when Dio lifted his rifle and fired. The warrior bent forward, the blood gus.h.i.+ng from his mouth, but still coming on, when the black, seizing the sabre of a fallen soldier, struck him on the side and his body fell, his hands touching the ground, while his legs remained lashed to the saddle. The cross-fire, which, at the word of command, was poured in on the ranks of the savages, stopped their onward course. A successful attempt was made, however, to recover the body of their chief, and his horse though wounded, wheeling round, was seized by one of the band and carried off, in spite of the bullets aimed at him.
We continued pouring in volley after volley, until the Indians were beyond our range, but our men fired too high and but few saddles were emptied after the retreat began.
The battle had been terribly severe, and we had to mourn the loss of nearly a dozen men killed and as many wounded. Those who had fallen were dreadfully mutilated by the savages. Horses and riders had been stripped of their trappings and clothes, most of the men scalped, with terrible gashes on their bodies, while all around, the trampled blood-stained ground showed the fierce struggle which had taken place before our brave fellows had succ.u.mbed. Severe as had been our loss, a still greater number of the Indians must have been killed, although the majority had been carried out. None of our party who had gone out on foot had suffered, shewing how much wiser it would have been had the garrison remained in the fort, without attempting to pursue the enemy.
The object of the commandant, however, had been to drive the savages to a distance, and to show them that the white men were as ready to meet them in the open, as within the protection of the stockades.
We watched the enemy as they rode slowly back over the hill, carrying their dead and wounded. Though defeated, we could not be at all certain that they would not renew the attack during the night. The belief, however, was, that dispirited by the loss of their chief, they would, with blackened faces, be mourning for his death and that of the rest of the warriors who had fallen, instead of thinking of more fighting.
”It is sad work,” observed my father, as we returned from burying our poor fellows; ”the Indians act, of course, according to their instinct, and consider themselves justified in attacking the forts and trains of the white men, whom they see advancing to take possession of their hunting-grounds. I wish that means could be found to induce them to remain at peace with us, but though over and over again they have signed treaties they have broken through them whenever they have fancied that they could gain an advantage by so doing. I do not mean to say for one moment that the white men are not to blame; they have too often deceived the Indians and have driven them without compunction from the region they once called their own. If I could discover a tribe whose confidence in the pale-faces, as they call us, has not been abused, I would settle down among them and endeavour by kindness and justice to work upon their better feelings and induce them to become friends.”
The garrison remained under arms during the night, but it pa.s.sed off in quietness, and the next day the scouts who went out reported that the enemy had moved off to a distance. It was hoped that their chief, who had instigated them to attack the fort, being dead, they would be inclined in the future to leave it unmolested.
We were now all fully prepared to continue our journey, still, anxious as was my father to proceed, he was unwilling to expose my mother and the rest of us to the dangers we might have to encounter. On finding that the country to the westward was at present free from hostile Indians, we made several hunting expeditions, by which we supplied ourselves and the fort with fresh provisions. While one day in chase of a deer which I had wounded, I got separated from my companions. The animal plunged into a willow brake, and I thought had escaped me.
Finding, however, an opening in the wood, I made my way through it, on the chance of coming again upon the deer. Calculating the course it was likely to take, I pushed forward so as to cross it. Coming upon several splashes of blood, which showed me the direction the deer had gone, I was following up the trail, when just before me a person rose suddenly from behind a bush, and to my surprise I recognised the solitary hunter.
I rode towards him, putting out my hand: ”I am glad to meet you again,”
I said; ”though I little expected to do so: I wish to thank you for the warning you gave us; had it not been for you, we should probably have been killed by the Indians.”
”I require no thanks,” he answered somewhat coldly.
”We gave the Cheyennes and Arapahoes a lesson they will not forget, and have been able to hunt since without fear of interruption,” I observed.
I asked him whether he considered that our train could pa.s.s on towards the Rocky Mountains without the risk of being attacked.
”If you make haste, you may get through; but you must not idle on the way,” he answered; ”the savages have united in a grand expedition against the forts to the southward, and although they will probably be defeated, it will give them employment for some time to come.”
This was satisfactory intelligence. I thanked him for it. I then asked him if he had seen a wounded deer pa.s.s that way.
”There lies your game,” he answered, leading me forward, where behind a bush I saw the animal I had wounded. ”I was employed in cutting it up when you appeared,” he added; ”although I brought it to the ground, your shot enabled me to kill it, and it is therefore yours. I will help you to load your horse with the meat.”
I in vain attempted to induce him to take the whole or a portion. ”No, no,” he answered, ”I have but one mouth to feed, while you have a garrison to support,” and he continued his task.
”You may have some difficulty in finding your companions,” he observed, when my horse was loaded; ”I will lead you to them.”
We set off together. After going some distance he stopped, and, shaking me by the hand, said--
”Go on there, you will soon find your friends; but you need not mention having met with me.”
This remark convinced me more than ever that the stranger had some reason for not wis.h.i.+ng to have any intercourse with the garrison. I wished him ”good-bye,” and he plunging into the forest, I soon rejoined my companions.
We returned with a large supply of venison. My father, to whom I privately communicated the information I had received from the stranger, announced his intention of setting out next morning.