5. Chapter V
On the following morning the camp was astir and we were under way at a very early hour,--long before sunrise, in fact,--but we had hardly proceeded a mile from our halting-place, before one of the Mexicans, who was riding ahead of the wagons, came rushing back with the information that there was a large body of Indians a short distance in advance of us.
"It's the balance of them cusses that had the boys, as true as preachin," exclaimed Jerry. "The sneaks! I s'pose they found out all they wanted to from 'em, and then let 'em go. Ther best thing we kin do is ter camp right here whar we've got water and grass, and git ready for a brush; 'cause they'll fight us, if ther's any show for 'em, you bet."
"We'll jist camp right on this knoll, and then we shall have a fair chance all round; get your animals corralled with the wagons, and then we'll ride out and meet 'em, that is, we must keep 'em as far away from the wagons as possible."
Everything was soon arranged; but, to our surprise, the Indians made no attack.
The Comanche's AttackJerry, myself and Hal rode out towards the spot where we had seen them, and a very few moments served to convince us that they meant business; for they were scattered, with the evident intention of surrounding us.
"That won't work," said Jerry. "We'll just go back to the wagons and stay there and fight it out on our own dung-hill. There ain't more'n a dozen of 'em, and, ef we can't lick that number of thievin' Comanches, we don't desarve to git to California, no how."
We had hardly returned to the wagons before the Indians began to show their tactics by riding around us in a circle, each time coming nearer and nearer, until finally, when within easy range, they threw themselves over upon the sides of their horses and let fly a shower of arrows, that fell among us without doing any harm, other than frightening the stock.
"Don't a man of yer fire till I giv the order, and when they come abreast of us agin give it to 'em with your rifles; but don't one of yer waste a shot."
Once more we saw them coming--saw them preparing to throw themselves over to shoot from under their horses' necks, and--
"Now for it," cried Jerry, "give it to 'em!" and we forthwith gave them a volley that caused two of their number to fall headlong to the ground. This brought the party to a halt, and they retreated out of the range of our rifles, for the purpose of holding a consultation.
While they were thus engaged, one of the Mexicans called Jerry's attention to a solitary Indian who was approaching our wagons from the rear. Jerry immediately pronounced him to be the Arapahoe, whom we had seen with the party of Missourians.
He soon came up with us, and brought the intelligence that his party was only a short distance behind and would soon be in to help us.
This was indeed good news; but, before they could possibly reach us, the Comanches, who had evidently made up their minds to once more attack, began their old plan of riding around us in a circle, discharging their arrows with such good effect that one of the Mexicans was shot in the thigh.
Jerry, and the Indian guide, both advised us to reserve our fire until the enemy should come within range of our revolvers; but their arrows came so thick and fast we decided to give them one more volley from our rifles; this we did, having the good fortune to see two more of the party suddenly tumble from their horses' backs. This put an end for the time being to their attack, for they soon disappeared over the bluff.
"We was too much for 'em that time, old pard," said Jerry, familiarly slapping the Arapahoe upon his naked shoulder. Then, turning to me,--
"I was s'prised, though' to see how them youngsters stood up ter the rack. Boys as a gineral thing hain't got no bizness on the plains, no how; but these are a-goin' to larn Injin fightin', sartin."
"Umph! putty muche boy no good," responded the Arapahoe, in deep guttural tones.
"Where's your folks, old pard?" inquired Jerry. "Better be hurryin' up; we've got ter be a-goin', as soon as I put this chaw er terbacy on that Mexican feller's leg; nothin' like it to take the sore out, you know."
The mules were now harnessed to the wagons, and everything ready for a start, when the Missourians put in an appearance. We received them right gladly, and joyfully welcomed them to our party. We started in company; but soon ascertained it would be impossible for them to keep up with us on the road, their oxen travelled so much slower than our own teams. We parted from them with reluctance; for all the indications thus far seemed to convince old Jerry that the Indians would without doubt prove very troublesome on the trip, and the larger the party the more safety, always.
We saw no further signs of their presence until quite late in the afternoon, when Jerry called my attention to a small, oblong pile of stones, that stood in a conspicuous place a short distance from the trail we were following.
"That's a Comanche sign," said Jerry.
"Pooh! it's nothing but a pile of stones," said Hal.
"That's true enuff," said Jerry; "but who put 'em there? Somebody did, for sartin."
"Probably some Traveller like ourselves," replied Hal.
"Likely ez not!" grinned Jerry. "Travellers don't ginerally have nothin' ter do but pick up stones and pile 'em up in thet shape, do they? No, sir! them Comanches know what thet means better'n you nor me; and, ten ter one, that's bin put there within twenty-four hours, too."
An examination revealed the fact that the pile had indeed been recently collected and put together with great care, evidently for the purpose of giving information to some party who were expected over the route within a short time. I have since found, that, in the absence of stones, these Indians frequently set the bleached head of a buffalo or deer in some conspicuous place, with so much significance that the whole tribe understand its meaning perfectly.
Just before dark, we found good water and grass about fifty yards away from the road in a little ravine, and here I determined to encamp for the night, notwithstanding Jerry advised our moving to the top of a knoll, half a mile away.
Our wagons were drawn up between the camp and the ravine, so as to serve as a protection to our animals as well as ourselves in case of an attack. We also adopted the further precaution of securely fastening our mules to the wagon wheels and putting out an extra guard, that was to be relieved every two hours during the night, which proved to be cloudy and dark.
We all retired early, neither of us really apprehending any trouble; but, about two hours before daybreak, we were awaked by the guard, who reported that he heard noises in and about the ravine.
"If that's the case, we may ez well git up and be ready for 'em," said Jerry, "Rout 'em all out; it's most daylight, anyway;" but, before the guard had time to obey this order, the war-whoop burst upon our ears, accompanied by a flight of arrows that went whizzing far over our heads into the darkness beyond.
In an instant every man was on his feet, rifle in hand. It soon became evident that the Comanches had taken possession of the ravine, its banks serving as a breastwork, behind which they were effectually sheltered in the darkness, from our bullets.
"Wal, there's one good thing," remarked old Jerry; "ez long ez they shoot from behind them banks there ain't no danger of their hitting us; for they'll allus aim too high."
"I'm not so sure of that," replied I, as an arrow struck me in the thigh.
"Nor I, either," exclaimed Ned, as one of the mules dropped to the ground, with the shaft of an arrow sticking in his side.
"We can't stan' this a great while, no how; we must drive 'em out," said Jerry. "Who'll go with me round to the mouth of that cussed ravine? We must git inter their rear, somehow."
"But we don't know their exact position, nor how many there are of them," replied I; "and it seems to me that the best thing we can do, is to remain where we are."
"And be shot like dogs?" queried Jerry. "No, sir; it won't do ter fire from this pint, 'cause ther flash from our guns will give 'em light enuff ter find out our position; but we kin git round in behind 'em, and a few shots will settle the matter. It's mighty lucky for us, that they hain't got nothin' but arrers; for if they hed firearms, 'twould hurt."
Jerry and one of the Mexicans started for the purpose of getting in the rear of the enemy, if possible, while I remained in charge of the camp. Suddenly, Ned, whose eyes were keen, declared that he saw something crawling in the tall grass behind the wagons. He was so positive of this, that after vainly endeavoring to get sight at the object myself, I told him to take good aim and fire. This he did, bringing out a lusty yell from his mark, and a fresh shower of arrows from our assailants.
In a short time we heard the sound of Jerry's revolvers from some distance down the ravine, and then all was quiet. It was fast becoming light; but we did not dare to move from our position until assured beyond doubt that the Indians had left. We soon heard old Jerry's cheery voice announcing that everything was right; and then we ventured out upon an exploring tour.
The first thing we discovered was a dead Indian, within thirty feet of the wagons. Ned's first Indian! The boy looked frightened as he realized the fact that he had really killed a Comanche; and, for some time thereafter, hardly appeared like himself; but the congratulations he received upon all sides, soon served to reassure him again, and in a little while he felt as proud of his exploit as old Jerry did for him.
We lost one mule, and I was slightly wounded by an arrow, during the fight; while the enemy lost one killed, and, we had good reason to believe, had several wounded.
The wagons bore the marks of many arrows; and, had it not been for the protection afforded by them, our entire party would have been massacred without doubt.
Old Jerry attributed the failure of the attack in a great measure, to the fact that they were deprived of the use of their horses; for they rarely go into a fight, except when on horseback. We were glad enough to see daylight, as well as rejoiced to be able to once more resume our trip.