Читать книгу Winged Arrow's Medicine; Or, The Massacre at Fort Phil Kearney - Castlemon Harry - Страница 4

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Guy Preston was sorely perplexed by this order. He was not aware that he had done anything to be reported to the Adjutant, and besides that officer was not a member of his company. He had not been invited to sit down as was generally the case with officers who came there to see the Colonel on business, but stood twirling his cap in his hand; and every time he raised his eyes to the Colonel's face he saw that the officer was still regarding him behind his eyeglasses as if he meant to look him through.

"Are you aware that the Sioux are very hostile, and have you any idea what they will do if they capture you?" said the Colonel, breaking the silence at last.

"But they will not capture me, sir," answered Guy. "I shall go on horseback, and the Indian pony does not live which can beat Tom."

"I don't suppose that a bullet or an arrow could stretch your Tom out dead while you were running away from them?" said the Colonel.

"Yes, sir, I suppose they can do that, but they would not take me alive, all the same."

Guy finished the sentence by putting his hand into his hip pocket and drawing forth a Derringer which he showed to the Colonel.

"Humph!" said the officer. "You would shoot yourself before you would be taken prisoner? Well, I don't know but that is the right thing to do."

At this moment the First Lieutenant who acted as Adjutant came into the room. He listened with surprise when his officer made him acquainted with the request that Guy Preston had brought in to him, adding:—

"You have your report for this quarter all made out?"

The Adjutant replied that he had.

"Well, I shall want you to make out an entry in your 'Remarks' in regard to Lieutenant Preston," said the Colonel. "You will simply say: 'Requested permission to go out in the face of the Sioux for the purpose of shooting some sage hens. Granted. He was shot down and killed by the Sioux in plain view of the Fort.' You may go," he continued, walking up and taking Preston by the hand. "I never expect to see you again."

"Th—thank you, sir," replied the Lieutenant, who was confounded by the way his request was granted. "I will surely be back in the course of an hour or two."

When Guy had left the room, the Colonel's face relaxed, and filling up his pipe he settled himself for a smoke.

"I do not think he will go," said the Adjutant with a laugh. "I know I would not stir a peg after I had received such a permission as that."

"Keep an eye on him," said the Colonel, "and if you see him mount his horse, just step up and tell him not to go out of sight of the Fort. I do not blame these boys for getting impatient, I want to do something myself, but I don't know what it is."

"Halloo, Preston, where are you going now?" exclaimed one of his roommates, as he entered his apartment and began to overhaul his hunting rig. "A shotgun! You are not going outside!"

"The Colonel told me to go," answered Preston. "He called them sage hens, but I believe they are prairie chickens."

"And you are going outside to shoot them, and the Sioux all around you?" cried the young officer, throwing down his book and raising himself to a sitting posture on his bunk. "Guy, you are crazy."

"I guess that is what the Colonel seemed to think; but he told me to go, and said he never expected to meet me again. He is going to bluff me, but he will find that I am not that sort."

Guy then went on to tell Perkins how the request was received and the way it was granted, to all of which he listened in amazement. As soon as he began to get it through his head, he implored his roommate to let the permission go by default; the Colonel did not expect him to go; he knew how perilous the undertaking was, and he hoped, by drawing it in its true colors, to make Preston see it also; but Preston did not see it in that way.

"He did not go at it right," said he. "He took the very course to make me go out there. If he is going to find out how brave I am, he will certainly find it out."

"You are a fool," declared Perkins hotly. "I never expect to see you again either. When I shake you by the hand at the gate it will be the last time until I see you brought in for good."

Guy Preston began to see at last that he was about to do something at which many a better man and braver than he ever dared be would hesitate. It might be that "every little tuft of grass concealed a Sioux warrior," and an arrow or a bullet sped when he was not looking for it would put an end to his redoubtable thoroughbred and leave him at the mercy of the Indians who had beleaguered the Fort; but he had his loaded Derringer in his pocket, and he was sure that with it he could escape the barbarities they would inflict upon him. He took his double barrel out of its case, and bade Perkins good-by; but that worthy did not notice him at all. He got up and accompanied Preston to the stables, saw him saddle his horse and lead him to the gate. He found the Adjutant there waiting to pass the orders the Colonel had last given him, and he seemed more surprised than ever to learn that the young officer was still bent on going outside; but he said, as if he were giving ordinary instructions to one who had a simple duty to perform:—

"Do you see those hills about a mile and a half off? Well, keep inside of them. If you go over them, we shall give you up. Look out for an ambuscade."

"Now will you bid me good-by, Perkins?" said Guy, extending his hand. "Oh, you need not be so particular about giving it a brotherly clasp. I will see you again in two or three hours, and I shall have a lot of prairie chickens to show you. Good-by everybody."

"I am really surprised at the Colonel," said Perkins, as he stood by the Adjutant's side and watched his comrade as he galloped away. "He should have refused him point-blank."

"The Colonel is sorry enough for it now when it is too late," said the officer. "He supposed, of course, when the boy found out how much danger there was in his undertaking that he would give it up; but I knew he was taking the wrong course. Good-by Preston. By gracious, he has one prairie chicken already!"

Yes; the very first chicken that his horse frightened up was filled full of No. 8 shot, and Preston had something for his dinner. The Adjutant could not wait to see any more. He had business to attend to somewhere inside, so he went off and Perkins sat there on the ground for an hour and kept watch of his companion as he wandered to and fro on the prairie in search of another chicken. At last one got up before him, but the shooter seemed to have lost his skill. The double barrel spoke twice in quick succession, but the chicken kept on and in a moment more flew over the ridge out of sight. At least that was what Perkins thought he had done, the distance being so great that he could not see the chicken at all; but he judged from Guy's actions that that was the way he had gone. After waiting long enough to reload his gun, he put spurs to his horse and presently he too was out of sight.

"Good-by Guy Preston," said Perkins, with a sigh; "you are the best fellow that ever lived, and now the Sioux have got you sure. You should have had better sense than to disobey the Adjutant's orders."

Perkins was in a very gloomy frame of mind as he took his way through the gate and finally brought up before the Adjutant's door. A voice from the inside bade him enter, and the Lieutenant knew as soon as he looked at him that he had some news to communicate.

"Guy Preston has gone, sir," said he.

"Over the ridge?" replied the officer, starting up in his chair.

"Yes, sir. The second chicken he shot at went that way, or at least I thought so, and Guy followed after him."

The Adjutant said no more. Guy was a favorite with all the officers and men, and the idea of him losing his life through a disobedience of orders was distressing. He shoved a sheet of paper which he had been examining to one side, got up and walked to a window and looked out at the sentry who stood in front of the gate; and Perkins, taking this as a gentle hint that conversation was no longer desirable, put on his hat and retreated through the door.

Guy Preston was a persevering hunter, and when he reached the top of the swell he saw the chicken just settling in the grass about one hundred yards away. This time there was no mistake about it. The game "lay well to cover," and when the horse was almost ready to step upon him he arose and sought safety in flight; but he laid too long. When the shotgun spoke again he came down, and Guy had another chicken. For half an hour longer he rode about behind the swell, and finally he aroused himself and began to look around him. He was surprised to see that he had broken orders by at least a mile or more.

"Come on, Tom, and we will go back in a hurry," said he, pulling the horse's head around. "There were more chickens out here when I looked over the palisade at them, and where are they now? Get up, Tom, and we'll—"

Something happened just then to call Guy back to earth, and made him think a little more of the Sioux than he did a few moments previous. It was the sight of a solitary warrior sitting on his horse about half a mile away, and what struck Guy as something strange was, he did not seem at all afraid of being observed by anybody. Guy drew up his horse and looked at him. He could see that the Indian brave was dressed in war costume, but the distance was so great, not having a glass with him, that he could not make out whether he was a chieftain or not. The warrior seemed to be equally interested in him, for after looking at Guy for a minute or two, he put his horse in motion and came down the swell toward him.

"I don't believe I care for a closer acquaintance," said the young officer, gathering up the reins and leaning forward in the saddle, still keeping his eyes fixed upon the approaching savage. "If you want a race, come on. It is lucky for you that I haven't my Winchester in my hands. I would take that war bonnet of yours into the Fort with me as a trophy."

But somehow Guy did not put his horse into rapid motion as he had expected to do. The Indian, when he saw that Guy was getting ready to flee, stopped his own horse, and, as if to assure him that his intentions were pacific, held his rifle above his head at arm's length. This done he swung himself to the ground and laid the weapon at full length in the grass. Then he unbuckled his belt, which he also showed to Guy, and laid it beside the rifle. The next belt he took off was the one containing his knife, which he also placed with the others, and having completely disarmed himself, he placed one hand upon his horse's withers, gracefully leaped into the saddle, and once more rode toward Guy.

"I believe he wants to communicate," thought Guy, not knowing whether or not to accept his invitation. "Sioux, thy name is treachery; and that fellow's motions show me that he is as active as a cat. There," he added, seeing that the savage stopped his horse and sat regarding Guy intently, "he is waiting to see what I am going to do. I believe I will try him on."

Guy Preston's actions must by this time have satisfied the reader that he was a boy who could not easily be frightened. His coming out on the prairie to shoot chickens must have convinced one of that fact. Without hesitating a moment he proceeded to disarm himself the same as the savage had done, but all he had to do was to lay down his shotgun and take off the belt containing his cartridges. His loaded Derringer he kept in his hip pocket.

"Now come on," said he, as he again mounted his horse. "He may have some weapons about him, but if he has I have my Derringer."