Captured by the Navajos | Page 8

Frank's shoulder, went to bed
without undressing. After some half-hour of silence, Henry said:
"Mr. Duncan."
"Yes; what is it?"
"I'm going to name my pony Chiquita."
"And I'm going to name mine Sancho," added Frank.
"What are you going to do with the animals you brought here?" I asked.
"Turn them in in place of the two we captured," answered Henry.
"All right; for general utility. Good-night."
"Good-night. Thank you, sir."
Half an hour before midnight the sergeant of the guard aroused me to
report that strange noises could be heard from the rear of the camp.
I went to the top of the ridge and listened. A sound like the dragging of
branches over the ground, with occasional pauses, fell upon my ears. I
sent for the elder Cordova, and he listened long, with an ear close to the
ground. His opinion was that the Indians were creeping up for another
attack.
Orders were sent to Sergeant Cunningham to wake the men without
noise and assemble them at the barricades.
A little after midnight the moon rose over the mountains and bathed the
valley in a beautiful light.
As the moon cleared herself from the summits of the range and her rays
fell upon the line of paling camp-fires of the Indians, my field-glass
revealed the fact that the raiders had departed. Ponies and riders were
gone. In the whole length and breadth of the Great Valley not a living

being was in sight outside the limit of our encampment.
An inspection to the rear, to the scene of the late conflict, revealed the
fact that the body of El Ebano and the group of dead warriors which lay
about him at nightfall had been taken away. Their removal had caused
the rushing and creeping sounds we had heard.
Mounting my horse, and accompanied by four men upon the four
ponies, I crossed the valley to the Indian fires, but found nothing there
except the horns, hoofs, and entrails of our captured cattle. The flesh
had probably been packed upon the Cordovas' mule and burro to ration
a raiding party into the valley of the Rio Grande.
A well-defined trail went back through the forest, which Cordova
afterwards assured me led to the town of Pina Blanca.
Returning to camp, I wrote a letter to the commanding general, giving
an account of the attack and its repulse, and despatched it by the
Mexicans, who, taking cut-offs with which they were acquainted, and
borrowing horses in relays at ranches on the way, delivered it next
evening at Santa Fé.
The general sent a hundred troopers to Los Valles Grandes, where they
came galloping into camp two evenings afterwards. As Captain
Wardwell sprang from his saddle and wrung my hand, he exclaimed:
"God bless you, Duncan! I came out expecting to bury the bones of you
and your men."
I was glad to see the California cavalry officers, and, during the three
days of their stay in the valley for rest after a forced march, did the
honors to the best of my ability. On the day of their departure the
wagons returned loaded with supplies. Instructions were received to
send back all but one wagon and six mules.
With the departure of cavalry and wagons, life in the valley settled
down to quiet routine. I spent some time in instructing my companions,
according to an agreement I had made with their father. Not being a

West-Pointer, but a college graduate with a fair knowledge of Greek
and Latin, and some other acquirements not considered of military
utility, I was able to carry out a desire of the colonel and assist the boys
in preparing themselves for college.
We rarely received visits from the outside world. The nearest hamlet
was an Indian pueblo, twenty-six miles away, in the Rio Jemez Valley,
and representatives of the army seldom had occasion to visit our
outposts. The mail arrived from Santa Fé every Saturday afternoon, and
left every Monday morning in the saddle-bags of two cavalry
express-men.
To the soldiers life in the valleys was very pleasant. Duty was light,
and there were no temptations to dissipation or to be out of quarters at
night, and there were no confinements to the guard-house for disorder.
Evenings were spent over books and papers and quiet games, and the
days in drill, repairing buildings, providing the fuel for winter, hunting,
and scouting.
As previously referred to, we were in a region of abundant game. The
boy corporals accompanied the hunting-parties, and became skilled in
bringing down whatever they sighted. Henry, as well as Frank, shot his
bear, and soon our floor was covered with the skins of wolves, coyotes,
bears, and catamounts, skilfully dressed and tanned by the Cordovas.
And now I must introduce a principal character