Boys of The Fort: or, A Young Captain's Pluck

CHAPTER XIX
ESCAPING IN THE DARKNESS

It was after midnight when the camp settled down to rest. Fetter had not returned, and Matt Gilroy was much worried in consequence. Yet he was tired out, having lost a good portion of the night previous in traveling, and he lay down with the others.

The guards at the entrance to the cave had been changed. Those now there were two young men, recruits to the desperadoes' organization.

Inside of the cave Captain Moore, Joe, and Darry, having untied each other's bonds, held a long consultation, the upshot of which was that they intended to escape if the deed could be accomplished.

"There is no use in telling you that we will run a big risk," said the captain. "But as for myself, these rascals are plotting against Colonel Fairfield and the soldiers at the fort, and I feel it my duty to do my best toward getting away and warning my commander."

"Whatever you do, Will, I will back you up, so far as I am able," was his brother's answer.

"And I will back you up, too," came from Darry. "But we must be cautious, for these desperadoes will not hesitate to shoot, and shoot to kill." And the boy shivered in spite of himself, for no matter how brave a person may be he seldom cares to run the risk of losing his life.

The prisoners had been ordered to keep to the back of the cave, but after all but the guards had retired Captain Moore made bold enough to walk carefully to the mouth of the place.

"Hi, you want to keep back there," growled one of the guards, promptly raising his rifle.

"Don't be hard on us," pleaded the captain. "Let me get a little fresh air. It's vile in the back of the cave."

"Orders were to keep you out of sight," growled the second guard.

"All right, I'll go back as soon as I've cleaned out my lungs."

While the captain was speaking he was peering around sharply, trying to locate the other desperadoes and ascertain what the chances of escape really were.

As he gazed first to one side and then the other, he caught sight of a hand waving in the air. A second later he made out the head and shoulders of old Benson, as the scout rose to his feet behind some brushwood.

The thought that the scout was at hand to assist them cheered the young officer wonderfully, and he drew a deep breath of satisfaction.

"Are you going back soon?" growled one of the guards.

"Yes," answered the captain. "But I say," he went on, "why can't we come to terms?"

"Don't want to make any terms with you," growled the other guard.

"It might be better for you to do so."

"We know our own business best, captain. You just go back as you was ordered to do. If you don't – "

"I don't feel safe in the cave, men, to tell the truth. What is that pounding overhead?"

"Pounding overhead?"

"Yes."

"Don't know of any pounding. Do you, Ike?"

"Nary a bit," replied the other guard.

By this time Joe and Darry were just behind the young officer.

"Watch out," whispered Captain Moore. "Old Benson is outside, in the bushes on the left."

"Good for him!" whispered Joe joyfully.

"What are you talking about?" demanded one of the guards.

"I want to know about that pounding overhead," said Captain Moore. "I don't want the roof to cave in on us."

He spoke so decidedly that both of the guards were deceived.

"Nobody is up there," said one of the two. "It must be some wild animal."

"Can't one of you go up and look?" asked the young officer.

"You want the chance to get away," was the suspicious answer.

"How can we get away, when we are unarmed and you have that rifle," went on the captain, speaking loudly, for old Benson's benefit. "It won't take you a minute to look."

The men, however, refused to budge.

"We'll stay right here," said one, and the other nodded affirmatively.

In the meantime old Benson had crawled closer, until he was directly behind the pair.

Now of a sudden he leaped between them, and as quick as a flash caught their rifles and twisted the weapons from their grasp.

As the old scout did this, the young captain also leaped in, followed by Joe and Darry.

The guards struggled, but with four against them could do little or nothing. One, however, had a powerful pair of lungs, and before he could be stopped, set up a loud cry of alarm.

"Come with me!" cried old Benson. "Be quick, or it will be too late!"

He led the way to the wood where the horses were tethered, and the captain, Joe, and Darry came close behind him.

Hardly had they gotten away from the guards when the whole camp was in alarm.

"What's the trouble?" demanded Matt Gilroy, leaping to his feet and catching up his rifle.

"The prisoners have escaped!" answered one of the guards. "We were attacked by some men from behind. There they go!"

"Stop!" roared the leader of the desperadoes, and raised his rifle. But before he could take aim our friends were behind the shelter of the trees.

It took but a few seconds to loosen the horses, and as the captain and the two boys had long since relieved themselves of their bonds they were soon in the saddle and following the old scout, who seemed to know the way perfectly, despite the darkness.

"It was lucky you came up, Benson!" cried Joe, as they dashed along.

"Wait, we are not yet out of this trouble," answered Benson. "Hark! they are following!"

He was right. Gilroy and several of his men had rushed to their horses, and were now coming along the forest trail at a good rate of speed.

But their horses were no better than the animals our friends rode, so the desperadoes did not succeed in cutting down the distance between the two parties, and at last gave up the chase.

"It has been a most stirring adventure from start to finish," said Captain Moore after each had told his story. "And it brings to an end this outing. I must now get to the fort without delay."

"And I am perfectly willing to go along," said Darry. "There is no fun in hunting in a country where the desperadoes are so thick."

"This will open Colonel Fairfield's eyes," went on the young officer. "I shouldn't be surprised if he organized another expedition against Gilroy's gang and didn't let up on them until they were all either in prison or shot down."

"It's what they deserve," came from old Benson. "I'll go on such a hunt with pleasure."

Our friends continued in the saddle all night and until ten o'clock the next morning. Then, tired and hot, they went into camp by a cooling stream. Here they went fishing, and soon caught enough fish for dinner, after which they took a nap lasting several hours.

"And now for the fort!" cried Captain Moore; "and the sooner we get there the better."

The nap had done the boys a world of good, and as they rode along their spirits rose so high that Darry proposed a race. Joe was willing, and away they went, along the well-defined trail, before either the young officer or the old scout could stop them.

"They are full of life," said Joe's brother. "Let them go. We'll make the fort to-night, even if they do tire the horses a bit."

"It's all right if they don't get into trouble," answered Benson.

On and on went the two lads, down something of a slope and then along a level stretch. The bushes grew thick upon both sides, and here and there were numerous wild flowers. At last they reached a glade rich with green grass.

Joe was slightly ahead when he came to a sudden halt.

"Back, Darry!" he cried. "Get back behind the bushes."

"What's up?" queried his cousin, as he brought his steed to a standstill.

"Buffaloes!"

"Buffaloes! Where?"

"Right around the cliff on our right. See, they are coming this way! Here's luck."

Joe was right; they had come most unexpectedly upon a herd of seven buffaloes. The shaggy beasts were all large and powerful-looking. They were not in the least alarmed, and came toward the boys at a slow but steady walk.

CHAPTER XX
SOMETHING ABOUT WHITE OX

"What shall we do, Joe; wait until your brother and old Benson come up?" asked Darry, as they surveyed the approaching animals.

"I suppose we ought to wait," answered Joe. "But if they take alarm, they'll be off in double-quick order, I am afraid."

Each of the boys brought around his rifle, which had been picked up on leaving the desperadoes' rendezvous, and saw that it was ready for use.

"If we could only signal to the others!" suggested Darry impatiently.

"One of us might go back," began Joe, when he gave a sudden start. "They see us! See, they are turning away!" he cried.

Hardly had he spoken when Darry fired, aiming at the largest of the buffaloes. Joe followed, with a second shot, aimed at the same beast. Both bullets reached their mark, and the animal was hit in the breast and in the right foreleg.

"We hit him!" ejaculated Darry. "Let us fire at him again!" And he started to reload with all speed.

When struck the buffalo uttered a bellow of pain and went down on his knees. But he quickly arose, and now came straight for the boys, his head down, as if to gore them to death.

Crack! It was Darry's rifle which spoke up, and the buffalo staggered, hit on the head, a glancing blow, however, which did little damage.

By this time Joe had reloaded, but he did not fire at once, hoping to get a closer shot at the beast. In the meantime the others of the herd had disappeared completely.

Soon the buffalo was less than fifty yards off, and not daring to wait longer Joe took steady aim and let drive. His rifle-barrel had been pointed at one of those gleaming, bloodshot eyes, and the bullet sped true, entering the brain of the beast. With a roar and a grunt the buffalo went down, tearing up a great patch of grass in his fall.

"Hi! what's all the shooting about?" The cry came from Benson, as he rode down the trail at a breakneck speed, rifle ready for use.

"A buffalo!" cried Darry.

"A buffalo? Look out for yourselves."

"Yes, take care," came from Captain Moore, who was behind the old scout.

"We've fixed him," said Joe, not without a good deal of pardonable pride.

"Fixed him?" Old Benson looked out upon the glade. "By the great Jehosophat!" he roared. "Gone and shot a buffalo all by your lone selves! Or maybe he was dead when you got here?" he added suspiciously.

"You wouldn't think he was dead, if you could have seen him come toward us," said Darry.

"But who shot him? I heard four shots."

"And every one of 'em went into the buffalo," answered Joe. "Two for Darry and two for myself."

"But Joe finished him, with a shot in the eye," said Darry quickly.

"But Darry hit him in the leg, and that lamed him," said Joe, just as quickly. "I guess honors are even."

"Certainly remarkable shooting," was Captain Moore's comment. "Old hunters couldn't do better, could they, Benson?"

"Not much better, captain. I never would have dreamed of it, boys. And to think I couldn't get a smell of 'em when I was out looking 'em up," Benson said, shaking his head dubiously.

"This buffalo wasn't alone," said Darry. "The others went in that direction. You might follow them up."

"It wouldn't be any use now, lad. They are gone, and that's the end of it."

"We mustn't lose too much time," put in the young captain. "I must make the fort to-night, no matter what comes."

"But, Will, we can't leave this magnificent buffalo behind," pleaded his brother. "Darry and I will want the skin, and we'll want to mount the head and horns, eh, Darry?"

"To be sure."

"How long will it take to skin the beast, Benson?"

"An hour and over, if I want to make a good job of it," was the slow reply. "It's too nice a hide to ruin by quick cutting."

"Supposing I ride ahead then, and you follow with the boys as soon as you are ready?"

This was agreed to, and in a minute the young officer was off once more, urging his horse forward at the animal's best speed.

"Now I can take my time," declared old Benson. "Sorry I aint got my hunting-knife."

"Where is it?"

"It was lost in the shuffle with those desperadoes I put in the hole." The old scout chuckled. "My! my! how they must love me for putting 'em down there!"

"They'll have it in for you when they get out," remarked Darry.

"Oh, I'm not afraid, lad."

The buffalo had fallen into something of a heap, and it took their combined efforts to turn the huge carcass over. Then old Benson got out his clasp-knife, sharpened the blade upon the leather of his boot, and set to work, the boys assisting him as much as possible, which was not much, since the process was entirely new to them.

"That will be a load," said Joe, when they had the skin and a part of the head free. "How much do they weigh, Benson?"

"Close on to a hundred pounds."

"And how shall we carry that load?"

"We'll tie it up into something of a long bundle and take turns at toting it behind our saddles. Of course we won't be able to move along as fast as before, but that won't be necessary, now the captain has gone ahead to break the news."

The trail now led toward the river where Darry had almost lost his life by being hit with the drifting tree. The path was uncertain in spots, and they had to be careful for fear of getting into some boggy hole.

"What a splendid place for a ranch home!" suggested Darry. "Benson, I am surprised that there are so few cabins in this neighborhood."

"There used to be quite a number through here, lad; but the Modoc and other Indians burnt them all down. I suppose new settlers will come in, now the Indians are behaving themselves."

"But are they behaving themselves?" questioned Joe.

"They are doing a good deal better than formerly, Joe. There is only one old chief in this neighborhood who seems to want to cause trouble."

"And who is that?"

"White Ox. He is some sort of a relative to Sitting Bull, so I've been told, and he won't give in that the white man is master of the situation. He has tried to get his warriors to rise against us several times, but so far he hasn't accomplished much."

"Where is White Ox now?"

"Over behind yonder mountain to the north. He is chief of a band that numbers between a hundred and a hundred and fifty people. He himself is one of the best Indian shots in the West."

"It's a pity they can't become citizens as well as other folks," remarked Darry.

"That's the whole trouble, lad. The United States didn't treat them right in the first place, and we are bound to suffer in consequence. But in the end the Injun will be wiped out completely."

As night came on, countless stars shone in the sky, making the trail fairly light. Old Benson rode in advance, with Darry next and Joe bringing up the rear.

Presently the old hunter drew rein, and motioned the others to do the same.

"Somebody ahead," he said in a low voice. "Four or five men on hossback. If I aint mistaken they're Injuns, too."

"Indians!" exclaimed Joe. "Do they come this way often?"

"No, lad. Fact is, they haven't any right over here, so close to the fort. It's against Colonel Fairfield's rules."

"Then what can they be doing here?"

"That's for us to find out."

Old Benson led the way to a side trail, and then into the shelter of a number of trees.

He quickly passed the pelt over to Darry.

"Both of you stay here until I get back," he said. "I'm going to find out what those redskins are up to."

"You won't be gone long, will you?" asked Joe.

"Don't expect to be gone over an hour at the most. If I aint back in two hours, make up your mind something has happened. Then you'll have to get back to the fort the best way you can," concluded the old scout.

A moment later the darkness of the night hid him from their view, and they were left alone in the bit of timberland.

CHAPTER XXI
A TRICK OF THE ENEMY

"I must say I don't fancy this much," observed Joe, after the sounds of Benson's departure had lost themselves in the distance.

"Nor do I like it, Joe," came from Darry, with a long-drawn sigh. "But I guess we'll have to make the best of it."

"With what was on that message my brother found in the cave, and what Benson said about this Indian chief, it looks as if the folks at the fort might have trouble in the near future."

"That's true, too. I hope Will got through in safety."

Dismounting, the two boys sat down under the trees to wait in the darkness. The horses were glad enough of the rest, and fell to cropping the short grass which showed itself in spots in the vicinity.

Thus half an hour passed. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional note of a night bird or the dismal croaking of a frog in some hollow and the answering squeak of a lizard.

"Somebody is coming!" cried Joe at last, and both of the boys stood on the defensive, rifles in hand. The party came closer and closer, and at last they made out the form of the old scout. He was riding at the top of his speed.

"Quick! follow me!" he exclaimed, as he dashed up. "There is not a moment to lose!"

The boys needed no second bidding, and in a trice they were in the saddle once more and riding after old Benson, who now took to another trail leading somewhat to the south of that formerly pursued.

"You saw the Indians?" questioned Joe, as they dashed on.

"I did. White Ox is ahead, with sixty or seventy of his best warriors. From what I could learn he and Lieutenant Carrol have had a fight, and half a dozen of the soldiers were either killed or wounded. Now White Ox is marching for the fort."

"To attack it?"

"I can't say about that, but I think he is going to hide in the vicinity, to wait for the coming of the desperadoes."

"And what of my brother?" questioned Joe anxiously. "Did he get through all right?"

"Nothing was said about the captain, lad. I suppose he got through."

It was hard to talk while riding at such a rate of speed, and soon the conversation came to an end. The horses now showed plain evidence of their long journey, but each rider kept his steed at his best.

It was after two o'clock in the morning when the fort came into view, dark and silent in the midst of the plain surrounding it. Benson now rode in advance.

"Halt!" came the sudden command, while the scout was still a hundred yards from the stockade. The command was loud and clear, but the speaker was invisible.

"It's all right, friend," answered the old scout. "It's me, Sam Benson. Let me in, quick, I've news for the colonel."

"All right, Benson," was the answer. "But who is that behind you?"

"Joe Moore and Darry Germain. Is the colonel sleeping?"

"The colonel is very sick."

"Sick?"

"Yes."

"What's the trouble?"

"The surgeon can't make out exactly. He's in a sort of stupor, and they can't rouse him."

By this time the stockade gate was open, and all three of our friends lost no time in entering the yard. Then the gate was closed and barred again.

"Has Captain Moore returned?" asked Joe, as soon as he could get the guard's attention.

"I haven't seen him."

"How long have you been on duty?"

"Came on about an hour ago."

"Has Lieutenant Carrol come in?" came from Benson.

"Not that I know of; reckon not," answered the guard.

"Worse and worse!" groaned the old scout. "Who is in command here?"

"Captain Lee. But he's about half sick, too."

"It's a trick of the enemy!" cried Darry.

"A trick?" queried the guard with interest.

"Yes, a trick," put in Joe. "Benson, hadn't they better sound the alarm?"

"Yes, and I'll interview Captain Lee."

No more was said, and, while the sentinel called the corporal of the guard, the old scout hurried off to find the captain in command. With him went Joe and Darry. Joe's heart was like a lump of lead, for he was much concerned over the non-appearance of his brother. Had the captain met the Indians and been killed or taken prisoner?

Captain Lee was in a sound sleep, but quickly roused up when told that an important message awaited him. He met the party in one of the living rooms of the fort. His head was tied up in a wet towel, and his eyes showed that he was suffering.

"This is certainly a deep-laid plot," he said, when all had told their story. "The desperadoes and Indians intend to combine in an attack on the fort. Mose is undoubtedly that wily old half-breed who is still alive and who is very thick with White Ox. But I didn't know he could write."

"But what about this money at the fort?" asked Joe.

"The money is here, in a chest that is hidden away. It amounts to forty thousand dollars in gold, and is the property of the Nevell Mining Company. It was left for safe-keeping until Mr. Nevell could have it transported to Denver. You see, Nevell is a brother-in-law to Colonel Fairfield."

"The colonel must be drugged," said Benson. "That's the reason he acts so queerly."

"I suppose so, and that is what has affected me, I presume," answered Captain Lee. "Last night my head ached as if it would split open. We must tell the surgeon of this. Perhaps he can then do something to relieve Colonel Fairfield."

The captain lost no time in issuing the necessary orders, and in a few minutes the whole place was in alarm and the soldiers were on the watch for the first appearance of the Indians.

"My poor husband drugged!" cried Mrs. Fairfield, when she heard the news. "What villains those Indians and desperadoes are! Doctor, can you do nothing?"

"I think I can, madam," answered the surgeon. "Much depends upon what drugs were administered and how much the colonel has taken. Rest assured I will do my best for him."

Upon examination it was found that out of all the officers at the fort only four were fit for duty, all the others being sick, either through being drugged or otherwise. Of the privates not more than sixty-five were in a condition to fight should an attack come.

"And the worst of it is, the men won't know what to eat or drink after this," said Captain Lee to Benson. "Who can tell what has been drugged? Perhaps it's in the very bread we eat and the water we drink."

Strict orders were given to the men to touch nothing until the surgeon had passed upon it. Then the doctor got out his medicines to counteract the drugs, and set to work to bring the colonel and the other sufferers out of their stupor.

Hour after hour went slowly by, and still Captain Moore did not return. What had become of his brother, Joe could not imagine. He feared the worst, and when morning came it was all he could do to keep back the tears.

"Don't take it so to heart, Joe," said Darry sympathetically. "It may be all right."

"But he said he was going to ride straight here – you heard him, Darry."

"So I did, but he may have seen the Indians or met Lieutenant Carrol, and that might have changed his plans. Anyway, I wouldn't worry too much just yet."

With the coming of daylight Captain Lee brought out his long-distance glass and swept the surroundings of the fort with extreme care.

"Some camp-fires are burning to the northward," he announced.

"Any Injuns?" questioned old Benson laconically. He had been told to come along to the top of the fort for consultation.

"Nobody in sight, Benson."

"Humph! Well, I don't calculate they are far off."

"Nor I, from what you and the boys told me. How long will it take those desperadoes to reach here?"

"They ought to arrive this morning, if they are not with the Injuns already."

"All told, we have about seventy officers and men available for duty," went on the captain thoughtfully. "What is worse, they must know how greatly our garrison is reduced, since they have had that skunk of a Mose do the drugging for them."

"The Injuns number over sixty, and if there are thirty desperadoes, that will give them a force of almost a hundred, or twice as many as we have, captain. But then, we hold the fort. They can't come anywhere near us without being cut down – if we set out to do it."

"Of course. But White Ox may send off for more Indians – when he hears how small the available garrison is."

"Does he know much of affairs here?"

"I am afraid he does. There were two Indians here yesterday, to lodge a complaint against a miner who had stolen a horse from them. I think, now, that the complaint was a blind, and the Indians were here merely to size up the situation," concluded Captain Lee.