Chapter VII: A Signal

Lieutenant Decker and his friends held their position for some time after the departure of Cemuri on his return to Fort Reno. Although they had left the stream, which had served them as a partial guide for a number of hours, they were not far from it, and the young officer was inclined to think it was the part of wisdom to stay in its vicinity.

The situation may be explained thus:

Geronimo and his band were evidently aiming to reach the more exposed ranches and dwellings to the eastward in the Sutra Valley, although when on their raids it seemed to matter little to them where they struck their terrible blows. Nothing was to prevent the swift riders from sweeping through the section whenever they chose, but brave and reckless as they were, they did not shut their eyes to peril.

From what had occurred they knew that their presence was discovered and that movements were already under way to check them. They had seen scouts from Fort Reno, and may have known that others were scouring the country. If the hostiles pushed on, they might find a strong party of cavalry in their rear or on their flanks, with the certainty of losing some of their best warriors before the rest could escape.

Lieutenant Decker’s anxiety now was to open communication with a party of his friends and arrange an attack upon the Apaches. Could this be done within the next few hours, Geronimo would be frustrated and compelled to withdraw without striking one of his fearful blows.

Until such junction could be effected, the officer wished to keep up a demonstration in front of the bucks, or show such activity that even if it failed to turn them back, it would retard or check their raid until the soldiers could do something more effective. It would seem that a decisive blow ought to be struck against the raiders within the next twenty-four hours.

This will make clear why after having retreated part way to the fort, Decker halted, unwilling to yield what he considered an advantageous position.

But, admitting all this, the three were in a situation of extreme delicacy and peril. The Apaches had drawn off from pursuit, but, at most, were not far off. They had but to advance somewhat further along the line they had been pursuing to come upon the three horsemen, who had no means of concealing themselves. The cunning and ingenuity already displayed by Geronimo’s men made it seem folly for Decker and his companions to believe they could avoid being outwitted.

Nevertheless the officer resolved to hold his ground, or rather not to continue his flight, and Maurice Freeman was as earnest in the same purpose as he. The all-powerful motive with the elder, however, will be understood, for he was really fighting for the sake of those that were dearer to him than his own life.

On these scouting excursions the lieutenant always carried a few rations, so, while they waited for night to close round them, the three partook of food. When that was finished it was growing dark.

Pointing his Winchester toward the sky, the lieutenant discharged it twice in quick succession, following with a third report at a longer interval.

“That is a signal to whoever of the boys may hear it,” he explained to Freeman.

“And means what?”

“That I have located the hostiles and my friends must join me with the least possible delay.”

“How will you know whether it is heard?”

“I will receive the same answer. The whole thing is understood by every one who left the post—halloo! do you hear that?”

The faint but distinct report of a rifle sounded in the distance, and all three listened for the sounds needed to complete the signal, but to their disappointment there was none.

“Now,” said the lieutenant, “since Geronimo may take it into his head to renew his acquaintance with us, it is best to call upon Mendez here to help us out.”

“The very suggestion I was about to make; how will he do it?”

Mendez and Lieutenant Decker had scouted so much together that they were familiar with each other’s signals, and no preliminary rehearsal, therefore, was necessary.

“The captain and I will go back to the stream,” he explained to the Apache, “and follow the bank some distance. When you have anything to communicate you will know where to find us. At any rate we will not be far off.”

“Provided nothing unexpected happens,” Freeman thought best to add.

The scout was a man of few words and only said “Huh!” to signify that he understood everything. Then, without more ado, he turned the head of his horse westward and rode off in the darkness.

“That brave fellow takes his life into his hands,” remarked the lieutenant; “he knows he would receive scant mercy if Geronimo or any of his band got hold of him.”

“Wherein would he differ from us?” questioned Freeman.

“In no respect, so far as final results are concerned, but they would punish him frightfully, for it is human nature to detest a renegade, as he and Cemuri are considered.”

“I don’t know whether it makes him more or less useful, but it seems to me he must be handicapped in his movements.”

“He doesn’t appear to be; I think if Mendez or Cemuri should become convinced that there was no possible escape from capture he would shoot himself.”

“So would I,” said Freeman.

“I wouldn’t, for as long as there’s life there’s hope.”

“I meant when all hope is gone.”

“We may as well make our change of base.”

Side by side the friends rode to the left of the course they had been following, until they struck the shore of the stream already alluded to. It seemed broader and shallower than below, but it was a winding current through the sand, which licked a great deal of water. The banks were so low and flat that a slight rise of the creek would cause it to overflow on both sides. No trees or undergrowth being in the neighborhood, the same difficulty of concealment remained.

When the full moon should rise in the unclouded sky objects would be discernible for a long way in every direction. While in some respects this might not be desirable, the two looked upon it as an advantage, since by diligence and watchfulness, they ought to discover the approach of an enemy, no matter how stealthily made, or from what point it came.

It was a cause for self-gratulation that both were so well mounted that none of their enemies could overtake them in a fair contest of speed.

“It strikes me that as the moon will not show itself for nearly an hour we may as well dismount. I have been in the saddle so continuously to-day that the change will be as grateful to me as to my horse.”

“It doesn’t strike me as the wisest thing to do,” replied Freeman, “though I don’t know that it increases our danger. I will not dismount, since I have ridden less than you. You won’t leave your horse?”

“No, though he knows my call so well he would come to me at once.”

The lieutenant walked slowly with his steed along the bank of the stream, for it seemed wiser to shift their position, even if slightly, so as to prevent the guarded approach of their enemies.

“I wonder whether any of them are in the neighborhood,” he remarked, as they came to a halt again; “I don’t see how they can be, but there’s no saying what mischief they are up to. Listen!”

The two were motionless and used their eyes and ears as best they could. In the gloom it was barely possible to distinguish the opposite shore, only a few rods distant, while darkness walled them in on every hand.

The only sound that reached their ears was the soft flow of the stream, barely distinguishable in the profound stillness. Once they fancied they heard the report of another gun, but, if so, it was so distant it could not be identified.

One distressing question pressed upon Maurice Freeman. Ought he to remain in this lonely place or return to his home a number of miles distant? His family would not be disturbed over his absence, for he had occasionally stayed at the fort over night and had been absent longer at Prescott or Phœnix, but at such times everything was so quiet that there was no ground for alarm.

He reflected that his wife knew nothing of the threatened raid of the Apaches, unless it had come to her after his departure from home that morning. Consequently, in the event of the hostiles making a dash into that section, she would be wholly unprepared against surprise.

Freeman and his friend Murray had taken an active part in chastising a party of Apaches some months before, most of them being killed, and he suspected that revenge might be a factor in inspiring this advance of Geronimo eastward. If such were the fact, nothing was easier than for him and his warriors to push on during the darkness, wreak their vengeance and get away before the sun rose.

The question, put in another form, was whether he and Lieutenant Decker were accomplishing any good purpose by thus lingering in the neighborhood with a view of watching and possibly checking the movements of the hostiles. If the latter were bent on raiding further eastwards they could make a detour which would carry them to the point they had in view without the knowledge of the two men, or of Mendez, who had gone forward to spy out their actions.

The veteran was loath to leave his comrade, but this hesitation was due to the uncertainty whether it was wiser to do so than to remain.

He was on the point of expressing his misgivings, when a low, soft whistle sounded on the still night air.

“Sh!” whispered the lieutenant, “that’s Mendez!”