Captured by the Navajos | Page 6

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 to this we were startled by a loud whinny, a little to the north, which was promptly answered by the black, and, looking in that direction, we saw a cream-colored pony, with high-erected head, looking anxiously in the direction of our captive.
"That seems to be a friend of your pony's," I said.
"Another beauty, too, sir! Can't we catch it for Henry?"
"Perhaps we can. It seems inclined to stay by this one. I see all the other loose ponies have joined the Indians. But wait now until we look over the field."
We now turned our attention to the prostrate bodies of the fallen enemy. All were dead.
The body of El Ebano, clad in black buck-skin, ornamented with a profusion of silver buttons, chains, and bracelets, lay face upward, his resolute, handsome countenance still in the embrace of death. I told the men we would give him