Pluck on the Long Trail | Page 6

know); and Fitzpatrick cooked. The burros had been unpacked and the flags planted before Fitzpatrick and I came in. We had to picket the burros out, to graze, at first, or they might have gone back to town. Of course, as we were short-handed, we had to do Henry's and Smith's work, to-night, too: spread the beds before dark and bring water and such things. (Note 14.)
For supper we had bacon and two cans of the beans and biscuits baked in a reflector, and coffee. (Note 15.) Major Henry and Jed Smith were not getting any supper yet, because they were still on picket duty. But when we were through General Ashley said, "Kit Carson, you and Jim Bridger relieve Henry and Smith, and tell them to come in to supper."
But just as we stood, to start, Major Henry walked in amongst us. He was excited, and puffing, and he almost forgot to salute General Ashley, who was Patrol leader.
"They're planning to come!" he puffed. "I sneaked close to them and heard 'em talking!"
"Is this meant for a report?" asked General Ashley. And we others snickered. It wasn't the right way to make a report.
"Yes, sir," answered Henry. "That is, I reconnoitered the enemy's camp, sir, and they're talking about us."
"What did you hear?"
"They're going to rush us when we're asleep, and scare us."
"Very well," said General Ashley. "But you weren't ordered to do that. You left your post, sir."
"I thought you'd like to know. They didn't hear me," stammered Major Henry.
"You'd no business to go, just the same. Orders are orders. Where is Smith?"
"Watching on picket."
"Did he go, too?"
"No, sir."
"You exceeded orders, and you ought to be court-martialed," said General Ashley. And he was right, too. "But I'll give you another chance. When is the enemy going to attack?"
"After we're asleep."
"What is he doing now?"
"Eating and smoking and waiting, down the trail."
"You can have some coffee and beans and bread, while we hold council. Carson and Bridger can wait a minute."
The council didn't take long. General Ashley's plan was splendid, a joke and a counter-attack in one. Major Henry ate as much as he could, but he wasn't filled up when he was sent out again, into the dark, with Kit Carson. They were ordered to tell Jed Smith to come in, but they were to go on. You'll see what happened. This double duty was Henry's punishment.
We cleaned up the camp, and then Jed Smith arrived. While he was eating we made the beds. We drew up the tarpaulins, over blankets and quilts rolled so that the beds looked exactly as if we were in them, our feet to the fire (it was a little fire, of course) and our heads in shadow. We tied the burros short; and then we went back into the cedars and pinyons and sat down, quiet.
It wasn't pitchy dark. When the sky is clear it never gets pitchy dark, in the open; and there was a quarter-moon shining, too. The night was very still. The breeze just rustled the trees, but we could hear our hearts beat. Once, about a mile away, a coyote barked like a crazy puppy. He was calling for company. The stars twinkled down through the stiff branches, and I tried to see the Great Dipper, but that took too much squirming around.
We must not say a word, nor even whisper. We must just keep quiet, and listen and wait. Down the trail poor Major Henry and Kit Carson were having a harder time of it--but I would have liked to be along.
All of a sudden Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand nudged me gently with his knuckles, and I nudged Jed Smith, and Jed passed it on, and it went around from one to the other, so we all knew. Somebody was coming! We could hear a stick snap, and a little laugh, off in the timber; it sounded as though somebody had run into a branch. We waited. The enemy was stealing upon our camp. We hid our faces in our coats and our hands in our sleeves, so that no white should show. It was exciting, sitting this way, waiting for the attack.
The gang tiptoed up, carefully, and we could just make out two of them peering in at the beds. Then they all gave a tremendous yell, like Indians or mountain lions, and rushed us--or what they thought was us. They stepped on the beds and kicked at the tinware, and expected to scare us stiff with the noise--but you ought to have seen how quick they quit when nothing happened! We didn't pop out of the beds, and run! It was funny--and I almost burst, trying not to laugh out loud, when they stood, looking about, and feeling of the beds again.
"They aren't here," said