Captured by the Navajos | Page 9

of my story, a valued
friend who took a conspicuous part in our scouting and hunting, and
who, later on, did valuable service to myself and my youthful
comrades.
Just as I was about to leave Santa Fé for Los Valles Grandes, the
regimental adjutant--since a distinguished brigadier-general in the war
in the Philippines--gave me a beautiful young setter named Victoriana,
and called Vic for convenience. She was of canine aristocracy,
possessing a fine pedigree, white and liver-colored, with mottled nose
and paws, and a tail like the plume of Henry of Navarre.
The boys, soon after our arrival in the valleys, carrying out a conceit

suggested by the letters "U.S." which are always branded upon the left
shoulder of all government horses and mules, marked with a weak
solution of nitrate of silver upon Vic's white shoulder the same
characters, and as long as she continued to live they were never allowed
to grow dim.
Vic came to me with no education, but plenty of capacity, and the
corporals and I spent much time during the long evenings and on the
days when we did not accompany the scouting and hunting parties, in
training her.
She learned to close the door if we simulated a shiver, to bring me my
slippers when she saw me begin to remove my boots, to carry messages
to the first sergeant or the cook, to return to the camp from long
distances and bring articles I sent for.
Vic was an unerring setter and a fine retriever. She was taught not to
bark when a sound might bring an enemy upon us, and she would
follow patiently at my heels or those of either of the boys when told to
do so and never make a break to the right or left.
Our repeated scoutings soon made us acquainted with every trail in and
out of the valley. I obtained permission from department head-quarters
to employ the elder Cordova as spy and guide, and he was of invaluable
use to us. He was able to show me a mountain-trail into the valley of
San Antonio besides the one through La Puerta, which I kept in reserve
for any desperate emergency which might make it necessary to use
another. We frequently went trout-fishing with an armed party, and
could pack a mule with fish in a few hours.
One morning, near the close of October, Cordova left the camp before
reveille on a solitary hunting-trip in order to reach Los Vallecitos, four
miles to the south of our valley, before sunrise.
He had gone but half an hour, and I was dressing after first bugle-call
for reveille, when I was startled by the rapid approach of some one
running towards my door. Presently the guide tumbled into the cabin,
gasping:

"Muchos Navajos, teniente, muchos Navajos!" (Many Navajos,
lieutenant, many Navajos!)
"Where are they, and how many?" I asked.
"About half a league over the ridge," pointing to the south. "They
chased me from the Los Vallecitos trail. They number about a
hundred."
Without waiting for more definite information, I told the boys, who
were hastily getting into their clothes, to stay in the cabin, and, going
for Sergeant Cunningham, ordered him to parade the company under
arms without delay; then, taking my glass, I went to the top of the ridge.
Lying down before reaching the crest, I looked through the screening
grass and saw a party of eighty-three Indians, halted and apparently in
consultation. They were in full war costume, and were painted and
feathered to the height of Indian skill.

III
WARLIKE PUEBLOS
The party of Indians halted for nearly ten minutes, evidently in excited
dispute, accompanying their talk with much gesticulation. I had time to
notice that the details of dress were not like those of the Navajos with
whom we had recently had a fight; but as the old hunter Cordova had
pronounced them Navajos, I gave the matter little consideration. They
did not seem to be aware of the existence of an encampment of soldiers
in the valleys, and after a brief delay moved on towards La Puerta.
Returning to the parade, I ordered the six mules and four ponies
brought to my door, saddled and bridled, and all the men not on guard
to assemble under arms with cartridge-boxes filled. Fortunately, the
mail-riders had arrived the previous evening from Santa Fé, so I
ordered them to form a part of the expedition, and placed the party of
thirteen under command of Sergeant Cunningham, mounted upon my
horse.

The sergeant was directed to take the "reserved trail" through the hills
into the valley of San Antonio and bring his men into the western end
of La Puerta before the Indians could pass through it. I impressed it
upon him on no