THE RESCUE.
The next moment a strange, wild yell broke the stillness, or rather sounded above the thunder of the horses’ hoofs, and the two men, standing sullenly by the wagon in the center of the encampment, and awaiting their doom, like those who, having done all that was possible, could now do nothing else.
Again that indescribable yell rung out over the prairie, and Captain Shields straightened himself like a flash, and gave a gasp of amazement if not terror.
“Did you hear that, Egbert?” he demanded, clutching the arm of the half-stupefied man at his side. “By heavens! they are not Indians, but Lightning Jo and his men from Fort Adams!”
The next minute the clearing within the encampment was filled by a score of men, who, leaping from their horses, and leaving them outside of the circle of wagons, came rushing in upon the little party from every direction.
“Helloa! here, where are you?” shouted the famous scout, “this ain’t a game of hide and seek. Come out and show yourselves.”
This was uttered in a cheery, hearty way, but mingled with the voice could have been detected a tone of awe and dread, like one who in reality was afraid to hear the same answer which he had demanded.
“Here we are,” replied Captain Shields, as he and Rodman walked forward to meet their deliverers.
“But the rest of you—where are they? Speak quick, old fellow,” added Jo, taking the hand of the two, both of whom were his acquaintances; “we are in a hurry, and want to hear all that is to be heard.”
“There they are,” returned Egbert, pointing to the wagons; “some are beneath them, and some are within them, but every one is dead!”
“What!” exclaimed Lightning Jo; “you had women and children with you—they are not all gone? I heard that Lizzie Manning, the sweetest little girl in Santa Fe, or anywhere else, was with you. Where is she?”
“Oh, she is all right,” returned Captain Shields, who had misunderstood the full import of the question; “they are unharmed.”
But by this time Gibbons, who knew just where to look for them, called out that they were safe, and he and many of the soldiers gathered about the wagon to congratulate and give them what assistance was in their power.
Their kindnesses were needed, for during the latter portion of this day all had suffered the most agonizing thirst, the scant supply which had been furnished them so unexpectedly lasting them but a short time, and then seeming to intensify that intolerable craving that drives the strongest man mad, until all were overcome by a sort of stupor, in which they were sensible only of dull, yearning pain, that could not be quieted.
Expecting as much, the soldiers were prepared, and more than one canteen of cool, refreshing, delicious and reviving water was offered to the suffering women and children, and almost instantly new life was imparted to all, and they awoke to a realizing sense of their position, and to the fact that they had been rescued.
“Are you there, Lizzie?” asked Lightning Jo, crowding forward, and peering among the group, who were dismounting from the vehicle that had proven such a friendly shelter and fort to them. “Helloa! I see you! Thank the good Lord! I was very much afeard I’d be too late to save your sweet self.”
And taking the half-fainting girl in his long, brawny arms, he pressed her to his heart and kissed her cheek, just as affectionately and gratefully as he would have done had she been his only daughter restored to life.
And poor Lizzie, now that she saw that the awful danger had passed, could not prevent her woman’s nature from asserting itself. Resting her head upon the bosom of the brave-hearted scout, she could only sob in the utter abandonment of feeling. She knew that so long as Lightning Jo stood near her there was nothing to be feared from any mortal danger that walked this earth; and the tense point to which her mind had been strung for so long a time, now fully reacted, and she became as weak and helpless as the youngest of the children, who were beginning to awake from their stupor. And so, without attempting to speak, she simply sobbed, and allowed her friend to support her in his arms.
The rest of the cavalry were not idle. They made a circuit of the wagons, and, as they learned the dreadful truth, something like a heart-sickness and awe quieted their boisterous voices, and they conversed in low tones, some muttering curses against the red scourges of the plains, while others expressed their sympathy for the brave men who had perished before relief came.
The life of the soldiers on the frontier is such as to accustom them to the most revolting evidences of the cruelty of the Indians; but there were thoughts that were suggested to the cavalry, by the sight in Dead Man’s Gulch, such as did not often come to them.
The long-continued and heroic defense of the little party, the torment of thirst, the vain attacks of the ferocious Comanches, the unflinching bravery of men and women, the steady dropping of the scouts until only ten were left, the total giving out of the ammunition, and then the sullen despair, in which the last defenders awaited the last charge: these pictures came to the minds of the cavalrymen in more vivid colors than they can to the reader who has seen nothing of the wild, daring life of the frontier.
Gibbons quickly told his story to his friends. After the diversion created by Lightning Jo’s scrimmage with the Comanches among the hills, he and his men had put their horses to the full run, and reached the neighborhood of Dead Man’s Gulch just as the lull in the conflict occurred. It was their purpose to charge down upon the red-skins, and give them a taste of vengeance, such as they had not yet encountered; but the cautious Swico had his scouts out, and the approach of the cavalry was signaled to him while they were yet a long way off.
In the hope of still accomplishing something, the majority of the cavalry started in pursuit of the Comanches, while Lightning Jo and a score of his friends hurried on to Dead Man’s Gulch, where the chief interest now lay.
The horses of the soldiers were already exhausted, and they were speedily compelled to return, after having exchanged a few shots with the band of Swico-Cheque, as they skurried away in the darkness.