Loe raamatut: «Boys of The Fort: or, A Young Captain's Pluck», lehekülg 4

CHAPTER X
THE RESULT OF A SWIM

To the boys, who had never visited a military quarters before, the fort proved of great interest, and they were glad, after the meal was over, to have Lieutenant Carrol take them around. This occupied some time, and when they had finished it was time for the evening parade.

This was quite an affair, and the two lads joined the ladies of the place to witness it. Everybody turned out, in uniform as clean as possible, on inspection. The drums rolled, the fifers struck up a lively air, and the three companies, headed by a major, marched around the stockade several times and then to the parade-ground in front of the gates. Here the command went through the manual of arms and through a number of fancy evolutions.

"It's splendid!" murmured Joe. "Everything moves like clockwork."

"It makes me almost wish to be a soldier," answered Darry. "But if a fellow had this day in and day out I am afraid he would grow tired of it."

"You are right, Darry," said Mrs. Fairfield. "The colonel has to think up a great number of things whereby to interest his men. They get up all sorts of contests, and concerts and theatricals, and go hunting when they can get the chance – anything to keep them from growing too dull."

"Have they had any real military duty to do lately?" asked Joe.

"Not for over a year. Then the Modoc Indians got up a sun-dance, and they had to march over to Kedahmina and stop it. Two Indians were killed and one soldier was badly wounded. Since that time the Indians have been quiet."

"But the Indians may rise again."

"Probably they will – one is never sure of them. As one old general has said, 'The only safe Indian is the dead Indian.'"

The boys were assigned to a small room next to that occupied by Captain Moore and Lieutenant Carrol. The apartment was neatly furnished with iron cots, an iron washstand, and a small wardrobe for extra clothing. Fortunately the extra clothing they had carried had not been stolen, so they were not as bad off as they would otherwise have been.

Joe was anxious to hear from his brother Will, but had to be patient. Yet he was not greatly worried, for he was almost certain that the soldiers would fail to fall in with the desperadoes, each having taken a different trail.

The day following their arrival the boys fell in with several soldiers who were going fishing up a mountain stream not far away, having obtained special leave of absence for that purpose. The soldiers, who were named Biggs, Ferry, and Lambert, were glad enough to have the boys for company.

"We'll show you some good sport," said Lambert, who proved to be something of a leader. "No better fish in these parts than those you can catch in Rocky Pass River."

The boys had no fishing-tackle, but Lieutenant Carrol fitted them out, and soon the party was on the way. The soldiers were to be gone but four hours, and so struck out at a gait that taxed Joe and Darry to the utmost to keep up with them.

"It's the air does it," explained Biggs, when Darry spoke about the speed. "After you've been out here a while you'll eat like a horse and feel like walking ten miles every morning before breakfast. I tell you, the air is wonderful."

"It certainly is bracing," answered Darry. "I noticed that as soon as we began to climb the foothills."

A walk of half an hour brought them to Rocky Pass River, and they journeyed along the bank until they came to a favorite fishing-hole.

"Here we are," said Lambert. "Now for the first fish!"

"Ten cents to whoever catches it!" cried Joe, and placed a shining dime on a nearby tree stump. At this the three soldiers laughed.

"That dime is mine," declared Ferry, who was the first to throw in.

"Perhaps," answered Biggs. "But I reckon I've got just as good a chance now."

"Here I come," put in Lambert, and threw over his friends' heads. Hardly had his bait gone down than he felt a tug and whipped in a little fish not over six inches long.

"Mine!" he cried.

"It isn't worth ten cents!" cried Biggs and Ferry; nevertheless Lambert pocketed the coin, amid a general laughing.

The boys now went to a spot a little above where the soldiers were fishing, and set to work on their own lines. Just as Ferry announced a fine haul, they threw in, and soon everybody in the party was busy, bringing in several kinds of fish, big and little, including some fine trout of a variety the boys had not before seen.

Inside of an hour everybody had all the fish he wanted, and then the soldiers said they were going to take a swim. The boys were willing, and soon the whole crowd were in the water, calling out and laughing and having a good time generally.

"Don't go too far down the stream," cautioned Lambert. "The falls are below, and you might get caught in the rapids."

"All right, we'll surely remember," answered Joe.

"I'll race you across the river and back," said Darry, a little later.

"Done!" cried Joe. "To what point?"

"To that willow hanging down near the big rock."

So it was agreed, and in a minute both boys were off. They were good swimmers, and the race interested the soldiers, so that they gave up sporting around to watch the result.

At this point the stream widened out to nearly two hundred feet, so the race was not a particularly short one. The water ran quite swiftly, and they soon found they had to swim partly up stream to prevent being carried below the willow.

Darry made the mark first, and, touching the willow, started on the return. Joe was close behind, and now it became a neck-and-neck race between them.

"Go it, boys!" shouted Lambert. "Do your best!"

"I bet on Joe," said Ferry.

"I bet on Darry," added Biggs.

Hardly had the wager been made when Joe shot ahead. Slowly but surely he drew away from his cousin.

While the sport was going on nobody had noticed a large tree that was drifting rapidly down the middle of the river. Now, however, Lambert saw the danger.

"Look out!" he cried wildly. "Look out! A tree is coming down upon you!"

Joe heard the cry, and looking up the stream managed to get out of the way of the big piece of driftwood. But Darry was not so fortunate, and in a twinkling the youth was struck and carried out of sight.

This accident came so quickly that for the moment nobody knew what to do.

"Darry! Darry!" cried Joe. "Where are you?"

"He went under!" shouted Lambert. "The tree branches struck him on the head."

"He'll be drowned!" gasped Biggs. "What shall we do?"

By this time the tree had drifted past the point where the soldiers were stationed. Joe had now struck bottom with his feet, and at once went ashore.

"We must do something!" he panted. "We can't let Darry be drowned!"

"He must be caught under the branches," said Lambert. "As the tree hit him it turned partly over. Perhaps – There is his foot!"

He pointed to the tree – and there, sure enough, was Darry's left foot, kicking wildly above the surface of the river. Then the boy's head came up, but only for a moment.

"Save me!" he spluttered, and immediately disappeared.

"This is awful!" groaned Joe. "Can't we throw a fishing-line over the tree and haul it ashore?"

"A good idea!" answered Lambert. "We'll take two lines."

He caught up the fishing-tackle, and lines in hand ran along the river bank until he was below the tree. The others followed, and helped him to get the lines into shape. Then a quick cast was made, but the lines fell short.

"Too bad!" came from Joe. "Quick, try once more!"

"The tree is turning over again!" shouted Biggs, and he was right. As some other branches came into view, they beheld Darry, caught in a crotch and held there as if in a vise.

Another cast was made, and then a third, but all in vain. Then the tree, with its helpless victim, moved forward more rapidly than ever, in the direction of the roaring falls, which were but a short distance off.

CHAPTER XI
SOMETHING ABOUT DRILLING

"Darry is lost! Nothing can save him now!"

Such was the agonizing thought which rushed through Joe's brain as he watched the progress of the drifting tree as it moved swiftly toward the falls of Rocky Pass River.

He knew the falls to be over thirty feet high. At the bottom was a boiling pool which sent up a continual shower of spray. Nobody entering that pool could survive.

Darry, too, realized his peril, and continued to call for help. Had he been able to loosen himself he would have leaped into the water, but he was weak and helpless, and his voice could scarcely be heard above the rushing of the rapids.

Joe and the three soldiers continued to run along the river bank, over rough rocks that cut their feet and through bushes which scratched them in scores of places. At last they came out on a point directly above the falls.

The tree still spun on, and Joe closed his eyes to shut out the sight of what was to follow.

Suddenly Lambert let out a shout:

"The tree is caught! It has stopped moving!"

Again Joe looked, and he saw that what the soldier said was true. The under branches of the drifting tree had hit some sharp rocks below the river's surface, and one branch had wedged itself fast.

This catching of the driftwood bent down the limb that held Darry, and soon they saw that the imperiled boy was free from the grip which had held him. But what to do next the lad did not know. To swim to the shore was out of the question.

"I – I can't make it," he told himself, as he panted for breath. He was so exhausted that he felt very much like fainting away. But he knew he must keep his senses, or all would be over with him.

"Darry! Darry! Are you much hurt?" called out Joe.

"Not much, but I – I can't – swim – ashore!" was the gasped out answer.

"I'll try the fishing lines again," said Lambert, and prepared them once more. A first cast did not reach Darry, but a second did, and he caught the sinkers to the lines with a good deal of satisfaction.

"Will they hold?" questioned Joe.

"I hope so," answered Lambert. "Anyway, it's the best we can do."

Letting the lines run out as far as possible, the soldiers and Joe moved up the bank of the stream to where there was a series of rocks projecting into the water a distance of several yards.

"Now brace me, and I will haul in," said Lambert. Then he called to Darry to help them by swimming as well as he was able, with the lines caught around him, under the arms.

"All right, I'm ready!" cried the boy, and dropped into the stream, taking care to steer clear of the tree.

Lambert hauled in slowly but steadily. The line straightened out and became taut, and looked as if it might snap at any instant. Joe's heart came up into his throat, and he breathed a silent prayer that his cousin might be saved.

"Here he comes!" muttered Lambert at length, and they could see that Darry's feet at last rested on the sandy bottom of the river. They continued to haul in, and soon he was safe. When on shore he pitched himself on the grass, completely exhausted.

"Oh, how glad I am!" cried Joe, as he knelt beside his cousin. "I was almost certain you'd be drowned!"

"It was a narrow escape!" answered Dairy, when he could speak. "When the tree first struck me I was almost stunned, and when I realized what had happened I found myself fast and hardly able to budge. Just look there!" And he showed a deep scratch on one side of his body and a heavy red mark on the other. "But never mind," he went on. "I am thankful my life was spared!"

It was a sober-minded party that dressed and journeyed back to the fort, Joe carrying both his own fish and those his cousin had caught.

"I am afraid that will end fishing and swimming for a while," said Biggs. "The soldiers never go near the falls, for they all know the danger, but Colonel Fairfield is too strict to run any chances."

"Don't say anything about the adventure on the tree," said Darry.

"Will you keep mum?"

"I will, and so will you, won't you, Joe?"

"Yes."

So it was arranged that nothing should be said, that the soldiers' little recreation might not be interfered with, for both boys saw that they had little pleasure at the best.

"A fine haul for you boys!" said Lieutenant Carrol, as he surveyed the catch. "I must go myself and try my luck. I haven't been fishing this summer."

"It's a splendid place for bites," said Joe.

"I know it. But you have to be careful up there. There's a nasty fall in the river. If you went over that you'd never come out alive."

"Yes, we saw the fall," answered Darry, and gave a shudder in spite of himself.

Again at sunset there was a parade, similar to that of the day before. After it was over the boys procured guns and had Lambert put them through their "paces," as he called it.

"First we'll drill a bit without guns," said the old soldier, for Lambert had seen sixteen years of service. "Toe this line, heads up, chest out, and little fingers on the seams of your trousers. That's all right. Now then, Eyes Right! When I say that turn your eyes to the right, but don't move your faces. Now, Eyes Front! That's good. Eyes Left! Eyes Front! That's first-rate."

"But we're not moving," said Darry.

"Now we'll move. Watch me. Right Face! Do you see how it's done? Balance on the heel, this way, and swing around. Now then, Right Face!"

The two boys came around like well-trained old soldiers.

"Good, boys, good. Now then, Front Face! Good. Left Face! That's not so well. Front Face! Now here's another, About Face!"

So the drilling went on, until the boys could move as Lambert wished them to. Then they began to march and to wheel right and left. At last he put the guns in their hands and let them march with the pieces, and then showed them the manual of arms.

"You'll learn in no time," said the old soldier, when his off time came to an end. "You've crowded a dozen lessons into one."

"And I feel it," said Darry. "I'm going in to rest." And he went, followed by Joe. All told, the boys had enjoyed the drill very much.

Joe was somewhat worried when bedtime came and still nothing had been heard of his brother. Yet Colonel Fairfield told him not to mind the prolonged absence.

"But should not your quartermaster be here?" asked the boy.

"He may come in to-morrow morning," answered the colonel.

The next day dawned cloudy, and by noon a steady rain was falling. The boys hardly knew what to do, and, after watching a drill and some performances in the gymnasium, went back to the living quarters. They had hardly entered when there came a shout from the guard at the stockade.

"Captain Moore is coming, with the quartermaster!" was the cry.

"Hurrah, it's Will!" shouted Joe, and ran out despite the rain to welcome his brother.

Soon the soldiers came up, mud-stained and tired. They embraced half of Company A, and in their midst was the quartermaster of the regiment, with two attendants. Each of these three carried heavy saddle-bags, filled with government money for the soldiers, for payday was now due.

"Joe!" cried Captain Moore, as he dismounted and caught his brother by the hand. "I am glad to see you safe and sound."

"And I am glad to see you," answered Joe.

"I will be with you soon – I must first report to Colonel Fairfield," went on the young officer, and lost no time in seeking the commandant.

His story was soon told, and it speedily spread to all parts of the fort. Along with his men and old Benson he had looked in vain for the Gilroy gang for a whole day. Then he had come upon them just as they were preparing for an attack upon the quartermaster and his escort. The gang had numbered eight, and in the fight which had followed two of the crowd had been wounded, although all had made their escape by swimming their steeds over a dangerous mountain torrent. Of the soldiers three had been wounded, one man quite seriously. The young captain had received a bullet through his hat.

"It was Matt Gilroy himself who fired that shot," said Captain Moore. "And I won't forget it when next we meet."

Old Benson had been in the thickest of the fight from beginning to end, and it was he who had wounded one of the desperadoes while the fellow was in the act of carrying off one of the money-bags. The rascals had fought hard over that money-bag, but in the end had been compelled to drop everything and ride to save their lives.

As soon as Captain Moore had made his report, another detachment was sent out, to follow the desperadoes, if they could be found. This detachment was fifty strong and under the leadership of Lieutenant Carrol. The lieutenant was a man who had met numerous desperadoes in his time, and it was felt that he could do the work much better than the average soldier.

CHAPTER XII
DEER HUNTING

With his brother at hand, Joe felt much more at home than formerly, and the captain's presence also made a difference to his cousin. Old Benson remained at the fort for the time being, and did what he could to please the boys.

He took an especial interest in their shooting, and would often set up a target on the prairie for them to practice on.

"You'll do first-rate in a little while," he said. "And as Lambert says you take to drilling, it won't be long afore you're both out-and-out soldiers."

"I don't know as I care to be a regular soldier," answered Darry. "I wouldn't mind it for a while, but to enlist for five years – why, that's another thing."

"Lambert has enlisted four times. When his time is out he'll be in service twenty years."

"And yet he is only a private," put in Joe.

"He is content, and doesn't want to go any higher. He likes the life, and he told me not long ago that he wouldn't know what to do with himself if he was out of Uncle Sam's employ."

One day after another passed, until the boys had been at the fort a little over a week. They now knew the drills and the "time-card" as well as anybody, and often practiced on the apparatus in the gymnasium.

"It's not so bad, after you once get used to it," said Joe. "The men are a good deal of company for each other."

"It's odd to see so many men and so few women," returned Darry.

"Some of the men don't want any women around, so I've been told. They are like some of the old-time miners who used to move out of camp as soon as a dress-skirt showed itself."

One day Captain Moore and old Benson got permission to go off on a hunt, and took the boys along. All of the party were mounted, and each carried a saddle-bag with part of the necessary camping outfit.

"If it's possible to do so, I'll show you some big game," announced the old scout. "Although I'll allow big game is mighty scarce, even in these parts."

"Have the hunters shot down everything?" asked Joe.

"A good bit, lad. You see, many used to come out here just to shoot for the sake of killing. I've known a party of six men to kill twenty or thirty buffalo and then leave the carcasses to the wolves. That was a shame."

"So it was!" cried Darry. "One or two buffalo would have been enough."

"Some hunters never know when to stop," put in Captain Moore. "They shoot as long as anything shows itself. If it wasn't for that these hills would be filled with buffalo, deer, bears, and all other kind of game."

The morning was clear and cool, and everybody in the party was in the best of spirits. The course was down into a broad valley, in the middle of which flowed the Rocky Pass River, and then up a series of hills leading to Tom Long Mountain – a favorite resort in this territory for sportsmen.

"Do you think we'll see or hear anything of those desperadoes?" asked Joe of his brother, as they rode along side by side.

"It's not likely," answered the young captain. "As soon as they learn that the soldiers are after them they'll take to their heels in double-quick order. They haven't any taste for meeting our regulars."

"It's queer that this Matt Gilroy should go in for this sort of life – if he is as well educated as you say."

"Some men don't like anything better, Joe – they wouldn't earn their living honestly if they could. It's queer that this is so, but it's a fact. Those men have no regular homes, although many often talk of settling down. Generally they die with their boots on, as the saying goes."

By noon the party had covered fifteen miles and were well into the hills. They came to a rest beside a fine spring which flowed from a split in the rocks. Near at hand was some dense brushwood, and old Benson rightfully guessed that it would not be difficult to beat up some birds.

"You can now try your luck at aiming," he said to the boys, and led the way into the dense growth. Soon a flock of birds arose directly before them, and both Darry and Joe took a quick shot, bringing down seven of the quarry. Then the scout fired, and five other birds dropped.

"Pretty good for a starter!" cried old Benson, as they stalked around picking up the game. "That target practice has made you both pretty steady. Just a round dozen, all told. That's a-plenty for dinner, I reckon."

Captain Moore was also pleased when told of what his brother and his cousin had accomplished. "You'll make great hunters in time," he said. "The main thing is to keep your nerve when big game confronts you. You know you have the best of a bird or squirrel, or anything like that. But when it comes to a buffalo, or a bear – "

"I know all about bears," interrupted Joe, and at this there was a general laugh. "If I ever meet another bear I want to be well prepared for him," he continued.

"Generally a wild animal won't fight," went on the young captain. "But when one is cornered he is apt to get very ugly; eh, Benson?"

"Right you are, captain. I was once cornered by a buffalo, and had all I could do to save myself."

The old scout calculated that they would strike some game that afternoon, and he was not mistaken. About two o'clock they sighted several deer far up the hillside.

"Fine, plump animals," said Benson. "If we get a couple of them we can be well satisfied."

It was decided that they should move around in a semicircle, so as to get to leeward of the herd.

"If we don't do that, the deer will scent us and be off in no time," explained Captain Moore.

Their horses were tethered in the brush, near some trees, and the party of four started out on foot. The way was rough, but the boys did not mind this. Their sole thought was upon the deer, and each resolved to bring down one of the game, no matter at what cost.

It was no light task to reach a spot from which to shoot. They had to cross several depressions on the hillside, and here the undergrowth was so heavy that progress at times seemed impossible. Once Darry went into a hole up to his waist, and came out with several rents in his coat, where the thorns had clung to him.

"Oh!" he muttered. "Oh!"

"Are you hurt?" questioned Joe quickly.

"Not much, but I reckon I'm a good deal scratched up," answered Darry, with a wry face.

At last they gained a point well to leeward of the quarry, and Benson brought the party to a halt.

"We'll creep in as far as we can," he said. "But keep your guns ready for use, and as soon as one fires the others had best fire too, for the deer won't wait after one shot. Which will you take, captain?"

"I'll take the one near the big rock," answered Captain Moore. "Joe, you had better take the one on the knoll."

"I will."

"I'll take the one rubbing his side with his prong," put in Darry.

"And I'll take the one coming through the brush," finished old Benson. "Now then, forward. Make no noise, and be sure your gun doesn't go off and hit somebody else instead of the deer."

Rifles in hand, they crept through the underbrush and down toward the glade in which the deer were feeding.

The animals did not become suspicious until they were less than a hundred yards away. Then, of a sudden, the leader threw up his head and began to sniff the air.

"Now fire," said Benson in a low tone.

At once the four rifles came up, and each hunter took steady aim. Darry and Joe fired at the same instant, and the young captain and Benson discharged their pieces immediately after.

The aim of the two older hunters was true, and two deer fell dead after going less than six steps. But the other game was only wounded, Joe's deer in the side and Darry's in the flank, and they bounded away up the hillside.

"Missed!" groaned Joe, and slipped another cartridge into his firearm. Darry did the same, and both fired a second time. Then, seeing how badly the deer were wounded, they ran after the animals.

The course of the deer was straight for the timber down the mountain-side, and through the brush crashed quarry and boys until another hundred yards were covered. Then, coming to a rocky cliff, and being unable to leap to the top, the deer came to a halt.

"Do you see 'em?" panted Darry, almost out of breath with running.

"Yes – there they are!" returned Joe. "See?"

"I do. They can't get up the rocks. Joe, we've got 'em after all. We must shoot – Gracious!"

The boy broke off short, and with good reason. The deer had spotted them, and now without warning turned and ran straight for both, as if to gore them to death!