The Quest of the Four: A Story of the Comanches and Buena Vista

The stream itself was not more than twenty yardswide. One could pass it in a few minutes, if nothingwas thrown across the way, and Phil now began to feelthat the unspoken alarm was false. But just when thefeeling became a conviction and the wagons were not morethan twenty yards from the river, he saw somethinggleaming in the brush on the far shore. It was the dyedfeather of an eagle, and it made a blood red spot againstthe green bushes. Looking closely Phil saw beneath thefeather the light copper face of an Indian, and then heknew that the Comanches were there.

Scarcely a second after he saw the coppery face, ahurricane of arrows whistled from the covert on the farshore. The short shafts of the Comanches filled the air.Mingled with them was the sharp crashing of rifles, andbullets and arrows whistled together. Then came thelong yell of the Comanches, from scores of throats, highpitched, fierce, defiant, like the scream of a savage beastabout to leap upon its prey. In spite of all his resolution,Phil felt that strong shiver in every nerve from headto heel. Some of the shafts were buried to the feather inthe bodies of the horses and mules, and a terrible tumultarose as the animals uttered their screaming neigh andfought and kicked in pain and terror. Nor did the menescape. One, pierced through the throat by a deadlybarb, fell lifeless from his horse. Another was strickenin the breast, and a dozen were wounded by either arrowsor bullets.

The train was thrown into confusion, and the driverspulled back on their lines. Sure death seemed to hoverin front of them. The greatest danger arose from thewounded and frightened horses, which plunged andstruggled and tried to break from their harness, but the handson the lines were strong, and gradually they were reducedto order. The wagons, also, were driven back a little, and then the triumphant Comanches sent forth their warwhoop again and again. The short shafts once more flew inshowers, mingled as before with the whistling of thebullets, but most of the missiles, both arrows and bullets, fell short. Now the Comanches appeared thickly amongthe bushes, chiefly on foot, their horses left at the edge ofthe timber, and began to make derisive gestures.

It seemed to Phil that the crossing of the river wasimpossible in the face of such a fierce and numerous foe, but Middleton and Woodfall had been conferring, andsuddenly the Cap, to use his more familiar name amongthe men, whirled off to the south at the head of a hundredhorsemen. He waved his hand to his three partners, and they galloped with the band.

"There must be another crossing, not as good as this, but still a crossing," said Bill Breakstone. "If at firstyou don't succeed, then try, try again."

This flanking movement was hidden from theComanches on the other shore by the belt of timber on theside of the train, and the horsemen galloped along rapidlyin search of a declivity. Phil's heart was thumping, andspecks floated before his eyes, but he was well among theforemost, and he rode with them, stride for stride.Behind him he heard the crackle of rifle shots, the shouts ofthe Comanches, and the defiant replies of the white men.

"Keep a good hold on your rifle, Phil!" shouted BillBreakstone in his ear. "If the gods whisper truly to me,we will be in the water soon, and, by my faith, you'llneed it."

The Captain uttered a shout of joy. They had cometo a place where the bank sloped down to the river andthe opposite shore was capable of ascent by horses.

"Into the river, men, into the river!" he shouted."The horses may have to swim, but we can cross it! Wemust cross it before the main Indian force comes up!"

The whole troop galloped into the water. Middletonshouted to them to keep their rifles dry, and every manheld his above his head or on his shoulder. The muddywater splashed in Phil's face, but he kept by the side ofBreakstone, and in a few moments both their horses wereswimming.

"Let the horse have his head, Phil," said Breakstone."He'll make for the nearest land, and you canuse both your hands for the work that we now haveto do."

Phil dropped the rein, and the horse swam steadily.They were now about the middle of the stream, which waswider here than at the ford. Two or three brown facessuddenly appeared in the brash on the bank in front ofthem, and the savage cry arose. Comanche skirmishershad discovered the flank movement, but the white troopwas already more than half way across. Bullets werefired at the swimming men and horses. Some struck inflesh, but others dashed up jets of yellow foam.

"On! On!" cried Middleton. "We must gain the bank!"

"On! On!" cried Phil, borne on by excitement."We must gain the bank!"

He was carried away so much by the fire and movementof the moment that he did not feel fear. His bloodwas tingling in every vein. Myriads of red specksdanced before him. The yellow water splashed all abouthim, but he did not notice it. An arrow whizzed by hischeek, and two bullets struck near, but he continued tourge his horse, which, gallant animal, was already doinghis best. Some of the white men, even from the unsteadyposition of a swimming horse's back, had begun to fire atthe Indians in the brush. Phil heard Bill Breakstoneutter a deep sigh of satisfaction as he lowered the muzzleof his rifle.

"Got one," said Bill. "It's good to be zealous, butthat Comanche ought to have known more than to runsquare against a rifle bullet."

The feet of Phil's horse touched earth, and he beganto wade. Everything now depended upon an instant ortwo. If they could gallop up the declivity before theComanches could arrive in force they would secure a greatadvantage. But the Comanches were coming rapidly, andthe fire from their bows and rifles increased. The whitemen, now that their position was steadier, also fired morerapidly. Phil sent a bullet at a bronze figure that he sawdarting about in the undergrowth, but he could not tellwhether or not he had hit.

"On!" shouted Middleton. "Give them no chance!Rush the slope!"

They were out of the river now, and in among thebushes and weeds. But they did not stop there. Drippingwith the yellow water, streaked sometimes with red, they rode straight at the Comanches, shouting and firingwith both rifles and pistols. The Indian skirmishersgave way, and, jumping upon their ponies, gallopeddown the stream to the main ford. The white menuttered a cry of exultation. They were now on thewestern bank, and the flank movement was a complete success.

"Follow them!" shouted Middleton. "We must presshome the attack upon the main body!"

Ahead of them the Comanches, bent low on theirmustangs, were galloping over the plain. Behind came thewhite men, hot with the fire of battle and urging on theirhorses. Phil, Bill Breakstone, and Arenberg rode kneeto knee, the boy between. He was wet from head to footwith splashed water, but he did not know it. A bullethad touched the tip of one ear, covering it with blood, but he did not know that, either. There was no crueltyin his nature, but just now it thrilled with battle. Hesought a shot at the flying Comanches, but they were toofar away.

"Hold your fire,"' said Bill Breakstone. "The battleis not over yet by any means. A job that's half finishedisn't finished at all."

They heard now the shots at the ford above them anda tremendous shouting. Evidently the two forces werefiring at each other across the stream, and the wagons didnot yet dare the passage. A few moments later they sawthe smoke of the rifles and brown figures darting aboutthe thickets.

"Now, boys!" shouted Middleton. "All together!A great cheer!"

A mighty shout was poured forth from three scorethroats, and Middleton waved his felt hat about his head.From the eastern bank came an answering cry, and thesignal was complete. Woodfall and the others with thetrain knew that their comrades were across, and now wasthe time for them to force the passage. Phil saw thewhite tops of the wagons shake. Then the wagons themselvesrolled slowly forward into the water, with horsemenin front of them and on the flanks, firing at the Indianson the bank. The Comanches sent a shower of bulletsand arrows upon the advancing line, but in anotherinstant they were compelled to turn and defend themselves.Middleton and his victorious troop were thundering downupon them.

The attack upon their flank came so swiftly that theComanches were taken by surprise. As their own skirmishersfled, the white force galloped in upon their heels.Yet these bold warriors, kings of the plains, victors inmany a battle over other tribes and Mexicans, fought witha courage and tenacity worthy of their race andtraditions. They were marshaled, too, by a chief who hadreturned to his own, the great Black Panther, and by ableassistants.

Middleton's daring men met a storm of arrows ambullets, but they charged on, although some saddles wereemptied. They were at the edge of the timber now, the mounted white men poured in a deadly fire. Thesound of the shots became a steady, incessant cracklePuffs of smoke arose, and, uniting, formed a canopy ofvapor. The odor of gunpowder spread and filled thenostrils of the combatants. Shots, the trampling of hoofs, the cries of the wounded and dying rung upon the drumsof their ears.

It was a terrific medley, seemingly all confusion, butreally fought with order by skilled leaders. BlackPanther had one half of his warriors to face the wagons andhorsemen in the river and the other half faced south tobeat off Middleton's troop, if it could. He himselfpassed from one to another, encouraging them by everyart that he knew, and they were many.

But it was Middleton's men who gave the deathblow.They struck so hard and so often that it was continuallynecessary for Black Panther to send more of his warriorsto the defense of his flank. The firing upon the wagonsand horsemen in the river slackened, and they rushedforward. The horsemen gained the bank, and, at thesame time, Middleton's men charged with greater firethan ever. Then the horsemen from the ford rushed upthe ascent and joined in the attack. Compressed betweenthe two arms of a vise, the Comanches, despite everyeffort of Black Panther and his chiefs, gave way. Yetthey did not break into any panic. Springing on theirhorses, they retired slowly, sending back flights of arrowsand bullets, and now and then uttering the defiant warwhoop.

Meanwhile, the last of the wagons emerged from theriver, and was dragged up the ascent. Although theComanches might yet shout in the distance, the crossingwas won, and everybody in the train felt a mighty senseof relief.

CHAPTER IV

ON WATCH

The wagons drew up in a great square on the openplain, but just at the edge of the timber, and themen, breathless, perspiring, but victorious, droppedfrom their horses. The Comanches still galloped to andfro and shouted in the distance, but they kept well out ofrifle shot, and Phil, although it was his first battle, knewthat they would not attack again, at least not for thepresent. They had been driven out of an extremely strongposition, ground of their own choosing, and nothingremained to them but to retire.

The boy stood by the side of his horse, holding thebridle in one hand and the rifle in the other. He wasstill trembling from the excitement of forcing the fordand the battle among the trees, but the reddish mistbefore his eyes was gradually clearing away. He let thebridle rein drop, and put his hand to his face. It cameaway damp and sticky. He looked at it in an incuriousway to see if he were wounded, but it was only dust andthe smoke of burned gunpowder, kneaded together byperspiration. Then he felt cautiously of his body. Nobullet or arrow had entered.

"Unhurt, Phil?" boomed out the voice of Bill Breakstonebeside him. "So am I, and so is Middleton.Arenberg got a scratch, but he's forgotten it already.But, I trow, Sir Philip of the River, that was indeed acombat while it lasted!

"The Comanches shot
With spirit hot,
But now, they're not.

"You can't say anything against that poem, Phil; it'sshort and to the point. It's true that the Comanches arenot entirely gone, but they might as well be. Let 'emshout out there in the plain as much as they choose, they're going to keep out of rifle range. And Icongratulate you, Phil, on the way you bore yourself throughyour first 'baptism of fire.'"

"I thank you, Bill," said Phil, "but the fact is, Idon't know just how I bore myself. It's been more like adream than anything else."

"That's likely to happen to a man the first time underfire, and the second time, too, but here we are on theright side of the river and ready for a breathing spell."

Phil threw the reins over his horse's neck, knowingthat the latter would not leave the camp, and set to work, helping to put everything in order, ready for fight or rest, whichever the Comanches chose to make it. The wagonswere already in a hollow square, and the wounded, at leasttwenty in number, laid comfortably in the wagons, werereceiving the rude but effective treatment of the border.Seven or eight had been killed, and three or four bodieshad been lost in the current of the stream. They werenow digging graves for the others. Little was known ofthe slain. They were wandering, restless spirits, andthey may or may not have been buried under their ownnames. They had fallen in an unknown land beside anunknown river, but their comrades gave all due honor asthey put them beneath the earth. Middleton said a fewwords over the body of each, while others stood by withtheir hats off. Then they smoothed out the soil abovethem as completely as possible, in order that their gravesmight be lost. They took this precaution lest theComanches come after they had gone, take up the bodies, and mutilate them.

When the solemn task was done, the men turned awayto other duties. They were not discouraged; on thecontrary, their spirits were sanguine. The gloom of theburial was quickly dispelled, and these wild spirits, theirfighting blood fully up, were more than half willing forthe Comanches to give them a new battle. It was suchas these, really loving adventure and danger more thanprofit, who steadily pushed forward the southwesternfrontier in the face of obstacles seemingly insuperable.

Their position at the edge of the wood, with the strongfortification of the wagons, was excellent, and Middletonand Woodfall, after a short consultation, decided toremain there until morning, for the sake of the woundedmen and for rest for all. Phil worked in the timber, gathering up fallen fuel for fires, which were built in thecenter of the hollow square, and he found the work arelief. Such a familiar task steadied his nerves. Graduallythe little pulses ceased to beat so hard, and his headgrew cool. When enough dead wood had been broughtin, he took another look at the western horizon.Comanches could still be seen there, but they no longergalloped about and shouted. A half dozen sat motionless ontheir ponies, apparently looking at the white camp, theirfigures, horse and rider, outlined in black tracery againstthe blood-red western sun. Phil had a feeling that, although beaten at the ford, they were not beaten for goodand all, and that the spirit of Black Panther, far frombeing crushed, would be influenced to new passions andnew attack. But, as he looked, the Comanche horsemenseemed to ride directly into the low sun and disappear.The hard work that had kept him up now over, he feltlimp, and sank down near one of the fires.

"Here, Phil, drink this," said Bill Breakstone, handinghim a cup of hot coffee. "It has been a pretty hardday on the nerves, and you need a stimulant."

Phil swallowed it all, almost at a draught-never hadcoffee tasted better-and his strength came back rapidly.Breakstone, also, drank a cup and sat down beside theboy.

"Here comes Arenberg," he said in a low tone to Phil."That German was a very demon to-day. He got rightinto the front of the charge, and after his rifle was emptyhe clubbed it and brought down one of the Comanches."

Phil looked up. Arenberg's face was still set in astern, pitiless mask, but when his eyes caught the boy'she relaxed.

"It iss a good day well spent," he said, throwinghimself down by the side of the two. "We never couldhave forced the ford if we had not made that flankmovement. Harm wass meant by both sides and harm wassdone. But it iss over now. How does the young HerrPhilip feel?"

"Pretty good now," replied Phil, "but I've had myups and downs, I can tell you. A little while ago I feltas if there were no backbone in me at all."

Food was now cooked, and, after eating, the threerelapsed into silence. Presently Middleton, also, joinedthem, and told them that very thorough preparations hadbeen made to guard against a surprise. Sentinels onhorseback were already far out on the plain, riding awatchful round which would be continued all through thenight.