Warrior Gap: A Story of the Sioux Outbreak of '68.

by Charles King

  CHAPTER II.

  Promotion was rapid in the cavalry in those days, so soon after the war.Indians contributed largely to the general move, but there were othercauses, too. Dean had served little over a year as second lieutenant ina troop doing duty along the lower Platte, when vacancies occurring gavehim speedy and unlooked-for lift. He had met Mr. Folsom only once. Theveteran trader had embarked much of his capital in business at Gate Citybeyond the Rockies, but officers from Fort Emory, close to the newfrontier town, occasionally told him he had won a stanch friend in thatsolid citizen.

  "You ought to get transferred to Emory," they said. "Here's the band,half a dozen pretty girls, hops twice a week, hunts and picnics allthrough the spring and summer in the mountains, fishing _ad libitum_,and lots of fun all the year around." But Dean's ears were oddly deaf. Aclassmate let fall the observation that it was because of a New Yorkgirl who had jilted him that Dean had forsworn society and stuck to atroop in the field: but men who knew and served with the young fellowfound him an enthusiast in his profession, passionately fond of cavalrylife in the open, a bold rider, a keen shot and a born hunter. Up withthe dawn day after day, in saddle long hours, scouting the divides andridges, stalking antelope and black-tail deer, chasing buffalo, he liveda life that hardened every muscle, bronzed the skin, cleared the eye andbrain, and gave to even monotonous existence a "verve" and zest thedawdlers in those old-time garrisons never knew.

  All the long summer of the year after his graduation, from mid-Apriluntil November, he never once slept beneath a wooden roof, and moreoften than not the sky was his only canopy. That summer, too, Jessiespent at home, Pappoose with her most of the time, and one year morewould finish them at the reliable old Ohio school. By that time Folsom'shandsome new home would be in readiness to receive his daughter at GateCity. By that time, too, Marshall might hope to have a leave and come into Illinois to welcome his sister and gladden his mother's eyes. Butuntil then, the boy had said to himself, he'd stick to the field, andthe troop that had the roughest work to do was the one that best suitedhim, and so it had happened that by the second spring of his service inthe regiment no subaltern was held in higher esteem by senior officersor regarded with more envy by the lazy ones among the juniors than theyoung graduate, for those, too, were days in which graduates were fewand far between, except in higher grades. Twice had he ridden in thedead of winter the devious trail through the Medicine Bow range toFrayne. Once already had he been sent the long march to and from the BigHorn, and when certain officers were ordered to the mountains early inthe spring to locate the site of the new post at Warrior Gap, Brooks'stroop, as has been said, went along as escort and Brooks caught mountainfever in the Hills, or some such ailment, and made the home trip in theambulance, leaving the active command of "C" Troop to his subaltern.

  With the selection of the site Dean had nothing to do. Silently helooked on as the quartermaster, the engineer, and a staff officer fromOmaha paced off certain lines, took shots with their instruments atneighboring heights, and sampled the sparkling waters of the Fork. Twocompanies of infantry, sent down from further posts along the northernslopes of the range, had stacked their arms and pitched their "dogtents," and vigilant vedettes and sentries peered over every commandingheight and ridge to secure the invaders against surprise. Invaders theycertainly were from the Indian point of view, for this was Indian StoryLand, the most prized, the most beautiful, the most prolific in fish andgame in all the continent. Never had the red man clung with suchtenacity to any section of his hunting grounds as did the Northern Siouxto this, the north and northeast watershed of the Big Horn Range. OldIndian fighters among the men shook their heads when the quartermasterselected a level bench as the site on which to begin the stockade thatwas to enclose the officers' quarters and the barracks, storehouse andmagazine, and ominously they glanced at one another and then at thepine-skirted ridge that rose, sharp and sudden, against the sky, notfour hundred yards away, dominating the site entirely.

  "I shouldn't like the job of clearing away the gang of Indians thatmight seize that ridge," said Dean, when later asked by the engineerwhat he thought of it, and Dean had twice by that time been called uponto help "hustle" Indians out of threatening positions, and knew whereofhe spoke.

  "I shouldn't worry over things you're never likely to have to do," saidthe quartermaster, with sarcastic emphasis, and he was a man who neveryet had had to face a foeman in the field, and Dean said nothing more,but felt right well he had no friend in Major Burleigh.

  They left the infantry there to guard the site and protect the gang ofwoodchoppers set to work at once, then turned their faces homeward. Theyhad spent four days and nights at the Gap, and the more the youngstersaw of the rotund quartermaster the less he cared to cultivate him. Aportly, heavily built man was he, some forty years of age, a widower,whose children were at their mother's old home in the far East, abusiness man with a keen eye for opportunities and investments, a fellowwho was reputed to have stock in a dozen mines and kindred enterprises,a knowing hand who drove fast horses and owned quite a stable, a sharphand who played a thriving game of poker, and had no compunctions as towinning. Officers at Emory were fighting shy of him. He played too big agame for their small pay and pockets, and the men with whom he took hispleasure were big contractors or well-known "sports" and gamblers, whoin those days thronged the frontier towns and most men did them homage.But on this trip Burleigh had no big gamblers along and missed hisevening game, and, once arrived at camp along the Fork, he had "ropedin" some of the infantry officers, but Brooks and the engineer declinedto play, and so had Dean from the very start.

  "All true cavalrymen ought to be able to take a hand at poker," sneeredBurleigh, at the first night's camp, for here was a pigeon really worththe plucking, thought he. Dean's life in the field had been so simpleand inexpensive that he had saved much of his slender pay; but, whatBurleigh did not know, he had sent much of it home to mother and Jess.

  "I know several men who would have been the better for leaving italone," responded Dean very quietly. They rubbed each other the wrongway from the very start, and this was bad for the boy, for in thosedays, when army morals were less looked after than they are now, men ofBurleigh's stamp, with the means to entertain and the station to enablethem to do it, had often the ear of officers from headquarters, and morethings were told at such times to generals and colonels about theiryoung men than the victims ever suspected. Burleigh was a man ofposition and influence, and knew it. Dean was a youngster withouteither, and did not realize it. He had made an enemy of thequartermaster on the trip and could not but know it. Yet, conscious thathe had said nothing that was wrong, he felt no disquiet.

  And now, homeward bound, he was jogging contentedly along at the head ofthe troop. Scouts and flankers signaled "all clear." Not a hostileIndian had they seen since leaving the Gap. The ambulances with a littlesquad of troopers had hung on a few moments at the noon camp, hitchingslowly and leisurely that their passengers might longer enjoy their postprandial siesta in the last shade they would see until they reachedCantonment Reno, a long day's ride away. Presently the lively mule teamswould come along the winding trail at spanking trot. Then the troopwould open out to right and left and let them take the lead, giving thedust in exchange, and once more the rapid march would begin.

  It was four P. M. when the shadows of the mules' ears and headscame jerking into view beside him, and, guiding his horse to the right,Dean loosed rein and prepared to trot by the open doorway of the stout,black-covered wagon. The young engineer officer, sitting on the frontseat, nodded cordially to the cavalryman. He had known and liked him atthe Point. He had sympathized with him in the vague difference with thequartermaster. He had had to listen to sneering things Burleigh wastelling the aide-de-camp about young linesmen in general and Dean inparticular, stocking the staff officer with opinions which he hoped andintended should reach the department commander's ears. The engineerdisbelieved, but was in no position to disprove. His station was atOmaha, far fr
om the scene of cavalry exploits in fort or field.Burleigh's office and depot were in this new, crowded, bustling frontiertown, filled with temptation to men so far removed from the influencesof home and civilization, and Burleigh doubtless saw and knew much towarrant his generalities. But he knew no wrong of Dean, for that youngsoldier, as has been said, had spent all but a few mid-winter months athard, vigorous work in the field, had been to Gate City and Fort Emoryonly twice, and then under orders that called for prompt return toFrayne. Any man with an eye for human nature could see at a glance, asDean saw, that both the aid and his big friend, the quartermaster, hadbeen exchanging comments at the boy's expense. He had shouted a cheerysalutation to the engineer in answer to his friendly nod, then turned insaddle and looked squarely at the two on the back seat, and theconstraint in their manner, the almost sullen look in their faces, toldthe story without words.

  It nettled Dean--frank, outspoken, straightforward as he had alwaysbeen. He hated any species of backbiting, and he had heard of Burleighas an adept in the art, and a man to be feared. Signaling to hissergeant to keep the column opened out, as the prairie was almost levelnow on every side, he rode swiftly on, revolving in his mind how to meetand checkmate Burleigh's insidious moves, for instinctively he felt hewas already at work. The general in command in those days was not afield soldier by any means. His office was far away at the banks of theMissouri, and all he knew of what was actually going on in hisdepartment he derived from official written reports; much that wasneither official nor reliable he learned from officers of Burleigh'sstamp, and Dean had never yet set eyes on him. In the engineer he felthe had a friend on whom he could rely, and he determined to seek hiscounsel at the campfire that very night, meantime to hold his peace.

  They were trotting through a shallow depression at the moment, the twospring-wagons guarded and escorted by some thirty dusty, hardy-lookingtroopers. In the second, the yellow ambulance, Brooks was stretched atlength, taking it easy, an attendant jogging alongside. Behind them camea third, a big quartermaster's wagon, drawn by six mules and loaded withtentage and rations. Out some three hundred yards to the right and leftrode little squads as flankers. Out beyond them, further still, oftencut off from view by low waves of prairie, were individual troopersriding as lookouts, while far to the front, full six hundred yards,three or four others, spreading over the front on each side of thetwisting trail, moved rapidly from crest to crest, always carefullyscanning the country ahead before riding up to the summit. And now, asDean's eyes turned from his charges to look along the sky line to theeast, he saw sudden sign of excitement and commotion at the front. Asergeant, riding with two troopers midway between him and those foremostscouts, was eagerly signaling to him with his broad-brimmed hat. Threeof the black dots along the gently rising slope far ahead had leapedfrom their mounts and were slowly crawling forward, while one of them,his horse turned adrift and contentedly nibbling at the buffalo grass,was surely signaling that there was mischief ahead.

  In an instant the lieutenant was galloping out to the front, cautioningthe driver to come on slowly. Presently he overhauled the sergeant andbade him follow, and together the four men darted on up the gradualincline until within ten yards of where the leaders' horses wereplacidly grazing. There they threw themselves from saddle; one of themen took the reins of the four horses while Dean and the other two,unslinging carbine and crouching low, went hurriedly on up the slopeuntil they came within a few yards of the nearest scout.

  "Indians!" he called to them as soon as they were within earshot. "Butthey don't seem to be on lookout for us at all. They're fooling withsome buffalo over here."

  Crawling to the crest, leaving his hat behind, Dean peered over into theswale beyond and this was what he saw.

  Half a mile away to the east the low, concave sweep of the prairie wascut by the jagged banks and curves of a watercourse which drained themelting snows in earlier spring. Along the further bank a dozen buffalowere placidly grazing, unconscious of the fact that in the shallow, dryravine itself half a dozen young Indians--Sioux, apparently--werelurking, awaiting the nearer coming of the herd, whose leaders, atleast, were gradually approaching the edge. Away down to the northeast,toward the distant Powder River, the shallow stream bed trended, and,following the pointing finger of the scout who crawled to his side, Deangazed and saw a confused mass of slowly moving objects, betrayed formiles by the light cloud of dust that hovered over them, covering manyan acre of the prairie, stretching far away down the vale. Even beforehe could unsling his field glass and gaze, his plains-craft told himwhat was slowly, steadily approaching, as though to cross his front--anIndian village, a big one, on the move to the mountains, bound perhapsfor the famous racecourse of the Sioux, a grand amphitheater in thesouthern hills.

  And even as they gazed, two tiny jets of flame and smoke shot from theravine edge there below them, and before the dull reports could reachtheir ears the foremost bison dropped on his knees and then rolled overon the sod; and then came the order, at sound of which, back among thehalted troopers, every carbine leaped from its socket.