While dragged the cold hours, some of the officers threw the capes of their cavalry greatcoats over their heads, and stretched upon the snow, slept. The general, having finished his inspection, did likewise. But the Osages did not sleep; neither did the men of the ranks, now collected closer in groups at their horses’ heads, to keep warm. The stag-hounds, Maida and Blucher, shivered and whined, and curled in a ball. Beyond, upon the crest of the ridge, an Osage and two of the officers were keeping keen watch upon the unconscious village below.
Ned dozed; when he awakened, stiff and shivering, the moon had set, all was pitchy dark, except that far in the east just a tinge of grayness signaled the approach of dawn.
Somebody near Ned stirred, and struck a match. It was the general, who looked at his watch. The flickering light revealed his anxious face and moustache rimmed with frost. He stood, and bending over another sleeping form he said, low and earnest: “Moylan! Moylan!”
[205]
“Yes, sir.” And the adjutant also sat up, to yawn, and spring to his feet.
“It’s time we were forming. Wake the officers,” continued the general. “Is that you, trumpeter?”
“Yes, sir,” answered Ned.
“You may help us. When you come to Colonel Myers, either of you, give him my compliments and tell him to move his command out at once and take position.”
“Yes, sir.”
Many of the officers already were awake, waiting, peering, listening. All around up-towered dim figures, and cautious voices spoke in undertones. Faint jingle sounded, as the horses stirred at movement of their guardians.
Presently into the darkness filed away Colonel Myers’ column, to take position further along on the right.
The troopers of the center column were not yet mounted; the companies in column of fours bided the time when the light from the east should be stronger.
Ned, beside his horse, quivered with cold and excitement mingled. All before was grim and silent; the ridge, snowy and blotched with brush, lay against the sky-line to the south; beyond the ridge was the fated village. Not even a dog barked.
Suddenly through the columns of fours ran a murmur. Into the velvet black sky over the ridge soared slowly and stately a fire signal, of yellow[206] glow. Instantly through Ned’s mind surged the thought that the village was alarmed, Major Elliot or Colonel Thompson had been detected, and this was a flaming arrow to spread the news adown the valley. Next would come the volleys, the shouts, and the shrieks.
“A rocket! A signal rocket!” ejaculated somebody.
“How long it hangs fire! Why doesn’t it burst?” wondered Adjutant Moylan, impatient.
Up, and up, and up, in course majestic, it floated higher, changing from yellow to red, and from red to blue, and from blue to lemon. The columns watched, breathless, eye and ear set for the downward curve or the explosion. The general spoke, in tone glad.
“It’s a star.”
“Oh!” sighed officer and men, relaxed, as passed the word.
For a star it was, now flashing white across the white and black; a morning star beautiful beyond description, in this pure, still air. It seemed like an omen of peace, but it brooded over a scene of war.
The light in the east had widened. From mouth to mouth the order to advance was given; without bugle note the columns mounted and now with creak of snow began to climb the ridge. Down from the crest came the Osage and the two officers. The village still slept, unsuspicious.
The crest was reached. Every eye sought the[207] village below. Its pointed tipis could be described, as thick as young cedars, on both sides of the curving stream. The pony herd was restless, at the approach of day following the long, biting night.
Here upon the crest was swiftly formed the line of battle, for the charge. Right and left into line rode the troopers, for squadron front; the right held by Colonel West, the left by Captain Hamilton and the Cook sharpshooters who were to fight on foot.
“Officers and men will remove their overcoats and the men their haversacks, to be left here under guard of one man from each company,” directed the general, tersely. “We must be free in our actions. Not a shot is to be fired before the charge is sounded. Keep those dogs here, too.”
So overcoats and haversacks were dropped; and stripped to their blouses the column again waited, breathing hard.
“For—r’d—march!” The low command trickled adown the long line; and more by sight than by hearing the line obeyed. From the crest it began to descend; and if all was going well, from three other points three other lines were as cautiously closing in on the doomed village.
The general led, in the center, with Adjutant Moylan beside him, Ned behind. A few paces off to the rear of the general’s right was Colonel West, commanding the right squadron. Captain Hamilton was on the left.
[208]
“Now, men, keep cool, wait the command, fire low and not too rapidly,” Ned heard him caution, in clear, calm tone.
Sergeant-Major Kennedy of the non-commissioned staff was another man in front of the line. Ned glimpsed him on the right.
Just before the center of the line, in close formation rode the band—every man with his instrument poised, the chief musician’s cornet at his lips, prepared to burst into “Garryowen” at first signal for attack.
The foot of the hill was reached; the pony herd stared, and jostled uneasily, scenting and hearing and seeing. With crackle of snow they moved aside—and as the crackle by the cavalry mingled with the crackle by their ponies, the village slept on, suspecting naught.
Now the timber ahead was the goal; for in the timber was the main collection of the lodges. A few, above and below, had been pitched on this side of the stream; but the majority were across, where the bank was low and level.
From the pony herd to the timber fringe was further than had been expected; as with crackle and slight jingle of sabre and bit the line moved in at eager walk, every man peering, all too fast brightened the landscape. The tipis glimmered white; from the apex of some curled thin smoke; very soon would the village awake to the routine of another day. How hard they slept—warrior and squaw and child and even dog!
[209]
“Another deserted village!” whispered the general, to Adjutant Moylan.
The adjutant nodded. The general swept a glance along his line, right and left; he straightened more in the saddle, his right hand fell to the butt of his revolver, projecting from holster; evidently the time had come, and in a few moments would it be known whether this was indeed another abandoned village. Ned raised his bugle to his lips, for the “Charge”; but even while he was drawing breath, in readiness, smart and quick rang from the farther side of the village a single report of rifle! The alarm!
What a change burst upon the slumberous valley! Turned in his saddle the general; with a word his voice smote the band into action.
“Garryowen! Give it to ’em!”
No longer was there need for concealment. Quit............