Captured by the Navajos | Page 6

afternoon the boy corporals and myself, tired
with our work of repairing and arranging quarters, sat down to a lunch
of broiled grouse.
We were busily picking the last bones when we were startled by loud
shouts. Quickly running to the centre of the parade, where the men
were rapidly assembling with their arms, I saw the soldier-herdsman
coming towards camp as fast as he could run, waving his hat and
shouting. Behind him the steers were running in the opposite direction,
driven by six Indians on foot. They were waking the echoes with their
war-whoops.

II
ATTACKED BY NAVAJOS
The six Navajos made no attempt to shoot the herder, although for
some time he was within easy rifle range. They contented themselves
with driving the cattle towards the southern section of the valley.
At the first alarm Sergeant Cunningham got the men into line without a
moment's delay. He had hardly counted off when the report of the
sentinel's rifle was heard, followed by his shouting, excitedly, "Indians!
Indians! This way! This way!"
In the direction of the guard-house I saw the sentinel and guard getting
into line with great rapidity. They were gesticulating wildly to us.
Frank Burton, who was standing near me, shouted, "Henry, get your
carbine and fall in with me on the left!"
"Don't expose yourselves, boys," I said. "The colonel told me to keep
you out of danger."
"We are needed, sir," answered Frank, promptly, and the two
youngsters instantly placed themselves on the left of the line.
I broke the company to the rear through the intervals between the

cabins. The men had only the marching allowance of ten rounds of
ammunition, so I had a couple of boxes broken open with an axe, and
cartridges were distributed to them. The two Mexicans joined us, and
steadily and rapidly we advanced up the slope to unite with the guard.
Scarcely two hundred yards distant we saw a compact body of over
three hundred Indians. They were charging down upon us, and with a
general and frightful war-whoop they began firing.
We deployed as skirmishers. The men fired by volleys, sheltering
themselves behind bowlders, logs, and ridges.
Instantly, at the head of the mounted column, there was an emptying of
saddles. The onset was suddenly checked, and the Indians broke into
two divisions. Part of the force swept along the outer side of the
horseshoe ridge to the south, and the other part wheeled round to the
north.
I met the attack by dividing my men into two divisions. The men
moved along the interior slopes, firing as they ran, and kept pace with
the ponies running to the extremities.
The Navajos had lost twenty men. A chief, who had been in the front of
the fight throughout, had the utmost difficulty in holding them in close
column.
"That is the great chief, El Ebano," cried the elder Cordova, as he put
his gun to his shoulder. Taking careful aim at the gray-haired leader, he
fired, and one of the most famous chieftains of the Navajos rolled from
his saddle. The beautiful black horse he had been riding ran on towards
us. With El Ebano dead, the Indians were dismayed. A moment later
they were in full retreat, and joined their comrades who had stolen our
cattle.
* * * * *
Our casualties were few. Sergeant Cunningham's scalp had been grazed
along the left side, Private Tom Clary had the lobe of an ear cut,

Privates Hoey and Evans were wounded along the ribs, and Corporal
Frank Burton had a bullet wound in the right shoulder.
The Indians had gathered in a compact body about three miles to the
southward, evidently holding a council of war. Reflecting that they
would not be likely to repeat their attack immediately, I walked out
with the first sergeant and a few of the men to note what casualties had
befallen the enemy, and learn if there were any wounded men in need
of assistance.
As I neared the place where the charge had been checked, I met
Corporal Frank Burton leading a black pony, gently stroking his nose
and talking soothingly to him, while the animal seemed half divided
between fear and newly awakened confidence.
"Oh, isn't he a beauty, sir!" exclaimed the boy--"isn't he just a perfect
beauty!"
"He certainly is a very handsome horse," I answered, after walking
around him and taking in all his graces and points. "Take him to the
stable and we will see to what use we can put him."
"Do you think it would be possible for me to own him, sir?" inquired
the boy, in an anxious voice.
"As spoil of war, corporal?"
"I suppose so, sir. I was first to capture him, you know."
Before I could reply