The soldiers who had fought in the wagon-train swaggered through the camp, and talked much like veterans. The camp, also, had its tales to tell, of attack and scalps and victory. So that the Seventh Cavalry had made a start on the battle-roll to be emblazoned on their standards. Major Elliot had brought orders from General Sherman to march north again, toward the Platte. The Platte was struck near Riverside stage station, in Colorado fifty miles west from Fort Sedgwick. No Indians had been sighted; but Indians were still around, for the very evening before the arrival of the Seventh at Riverside the hostiles had attacked the next station west, and had killed three men.
But this was not all. Evidently something else had occurred. Upon reading his dispatches from General Sherman, General Custer immediately had sent out for his officers, and was holding a consultation, at his tent. The discussion easily reached the ears of Ned, standing at his post, ready for orders from the general or Adjutant Moylan.
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Kidder—a Lieutenant Lyman S. Kidder, Second Cavalry, had been sent out from Fort Sedgwick, with dispatches for the Seventh Cavalry camp at the Forks of the Republican. He had only ten men, he ought to have arrived there or else have overtaken the column before it reached the Platte. But he had not been sighted. He was a young officer, this was his first scout. What had happened to him?
Red Bead, a friendly Sioux chief, was his guide, so he could not have lost his way; but upon such a long ride ten men were altogether too few, when Indians by the hundreds infested the whole district.
Speedily the news spread through the ranks. There was shaking of heads. In the opinion of the older sergeants, a great error had been committed.
“My idea is,” voiced Henderson, who was as level-headed as anybody, “that this young left’nant may have struck our camp; but if he did, like as not he took the wagon trail on south’rd, thinkin’ it was our trail. In that case, he’ll run into that same gang o’ reds who attacked the train ’twixt the Republican and Wallace, an’ they’ll wipe him out; they’ll wipe him out. It was a crime to send him on the scout with scarce a dozen, all told, in his party. An’ him new to the business, too. The time has come when the Army ought to know it can’t fight Injuns that way. They’re better armed than we are, an’ they’re mighty smart, boys.”
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The suggestion put forth by Henderson seemed to be that of the council of officers also.
More bad news was received. Cholera had broken out at Forts Wallace and Hays, and scurvy on account of the bad rations.
Therefore when over the wire the Kidder dispatches were repeated, ordering the column to return to Wallace, very ready was the general to go. Lieutenant Kidder might be found, and Mrs. Custer might be removed to safer quarters. So camp was broken at daylight.
During the march a sharp lookout was maintained for sign of the missing Second Cavalry detachment; but none appeared.
“What’s your opinion now, Comstock?” queried again the general, anxiously, as at the head of the column, where rode he and Adjutant Moylan and Will Comstock, he scanned the ground and the horizon. Will Comstock only shook his head.
“I’m not sayin’, gen’ral,” finally he replied. “It’s ’arly yet to make a guess. He may be all right—an’ agin he may not.”
The Forks of the Republican came into sight; and the former camping place. Here were the tracks of the Seventh, and from here proceeded the trail made by the wagon-train, to Fort Wallace. But trace of Lieutenant Kidder, or of any new horsemen, could not be found, even by the Delawares searching so keenly.
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About the headquarters camp-fire, that night, Scout Will Comstock at last did speak, more definitely, but still dubiously. And the officers listened eagerly.
“Well, gentle-men,” drawled Comstock, “before a man kin form any ijee as to how this thing is likely to end, thar are several things he ort to be acquainted with. For instance, now, no man need tell me any p’ints about Injuns. Ef I know anything, it’s Injuns. I know jest how they’ll do anything an’ when they’ll take to do it; but that don’t settle this question, an’ I’ll tell you why. Thar’s more’n jest Injuns consarned in the matter. Ef I knowed this young lootenint—I mean Lootenint Kidder—ef I knowed what for sort of a man he is, I could tell you mighty near to a sartinty what he did an’ whar he went; for you see Injun huntin’ an’ Injun fightin’ is a trade all by itself, an’ like any other bizness a man has to know what he’s about. I have lots of confidence in the fightin’ sense of Red Bead the Sioux chief, who is guidin’ the lootenint an’ his men, an’ ef that Injun kin have his own way thar’s a fair show for his guidin’ ’em through all right. But is this lootenint the kind of a man who is willin’ to take advice, even ef it does come from an Injun? My experience with you army folks has allus been that the youngsters among ye think they know the most, an’ this is partic’larly true ef they have jest come from West P’int. Ef some of them young fellers knowed half as much as they b’lieve they know, you couldn’t tell ’em[146] nothin’. As to rale book-l’arnin’, why, I s’pose they’ve got it all; but the fact of the matter is, they couldn’t tell the dif’rence ’twixt the trail of a war party an’ one made by a huntin’ party to save their necks. Half of ’em when they fust come here can’t tell a squaw from a buck, jest ’cause both ride astraddle; but they soon l’arn. I’m told this lootenint we’re talkin’ about is a new-comer, an’ that this is his fust scout. Ef that be the case, it puts a mighty onsartin look on the whole bus’ness, an’ twixt you and me, gentle-men, he’ll be mighty lucky ef he gets through all right. Tomorrer we strike the Wallace trail, an’ I kin mighty soon tell ef he has gone that way.”
This speech, so lengthy for the usually silent Will Comstock, made everybody feel more anxious than ever. Evidently the scout had his great fears, which he had tried to keep to himself.
Therefore, with dawn all were alert to strike the wagon-trail to Fort Wallace. Comstock and the Delawares forged ahead, to examine it first before the cavalry column should mark it up. The general and his staff urged forward, to get the report.
“Well, Comstock. Have they passed?” queried the general, reining short.
Comstock had been on foot, peering closely. The Delawares and he seemed to have agreed, for now he remounted.
“Yes, sir. They’ve gone toward Wallace, sure,” he said, soberly. “They’ve mistook this here trail[147] for the main trail of the column. The trail shows that twelve American horses, shod all ’round, have lately passed at a walk, in direction of the fort. When they come by this p’int they were all right, ’cause their hosses were movin’ along easy, an’ there are no pony tracks behind ’em, as would be the case ef Injuns had got an eye on ’em.” Comstock rubbed his cheek, dubiously. “I mought as well say that in my opinion, gentle-men, it’ll be astonishin’ ef that lootenint an’ his lay-out gets into the fort without a scrimmage. He may, but ef he does, it’ll be a scratch ef ever thar was one, an’ I’ll lose my confidenc............