Captured by the Navajos Part 14

"They are covered with yeso to protect them from sunburn."

"Oh yes--whitewash."

"Gypsum. The Mexicans use it for whitewash, and to preserve the complexion."

"Well, those boys must have plastered it on thick; they look like living statues. Not a rag on them except 'breech-clouts.' h.e.l.lo, there comes a troop around that mound to the right. Must be two hundred men."

Taking the gla.s.s, I looked again. Coming into sight from the opposite side of an elevation on the farther side of the valley was a party of two hundred and fifteen Navajo warriors. They rode to each flock of sheep in succession, stopped near the women a few moments, and then came down to the pony herd. They approached the boys, and one large Indian, who appeared to be the chief, lifted the smaller boy out of his saddle, and, swinging him to his shoulder, dashed around the herd at full speed, and then set him back in his own saddle, and patted him approvingly on the back.

The party next proceeded to exchange the ponies they were riding for fresh ones from the herd, and then disappeared behind the trees which bordered the brook to the west.

"The pony that small boy rides looks like Chiquita," remarked Frank; "but the saddle and bridle are different. Senora Perea said that Manuel was herding ponies for the Navajos, and that he was naked."

"Yes, I know; but the letter Vic brought from Henry made no mention of another boy, and there are three with that herd. But let us make the signal and see what will happen."

Standing up and advancing to the edge of the b.u.t.te's top, I waved my handkerchief from side to side, keeping my eyes fixed upon the three boys. They formed in line, facing us, looked long in our direction, and then, as if started by a spring, they flew down the plain, leaped the brook, and galloped up the long ascent towards the concealed cavalrymen.

X

THE CORPORALS ARE PROMOTED

The three Indian boys were doing their utmost to excite their ponies to their greatest speed up the height. As they sped on they glanced repeatedly backward, as if fearing pursuit. Higher and higher they came up the steep until we could not doubt it was their intention to reach the command.

"What does it mean? What does it mean?" exclaimed Frank. "Why are those Navajo boys running their horses in this direction? It can't be--"

"Never mind, Frank," I interrupted. "Let us get down to the men as soon as we can. The Indian women are already riding after the war-party."

At considerable risk to life and limb we slid down the ragged angle which we had ascended, and hurried to where Baldwin and the soldiers stood beside their saddled steeds.

We had barely reached the crest from which we could see the valley when the three whitewashed boys appeared on their panting and foaming animals, the little one on the buck-skin pony in the lead.

"What in the world is this?" exclaimed Baldwin. "Three whitewashed young redskins! What do they want of us?"

"Here we are!" shouted a familiar voice, in excellent English. "Here we are--Manuel, Sapoya, and I!"

Before we could sufficiently recover from our surprise, or, rather, calm our joyful realization of a hope born of the boys' start from the valley below, they were among us, and Henry had sprung from his horse and embraced his brother, leaving a generous coating of _yeso_ upon the army blue. Tears of joy had ploughed two streaks through the whiting on his face, and lent a comical effect to the boyish countenance. A general handshake ensued, and Corporal Frank asked, "Where are your clothes, Henry?"

"Confiscated by the chief Elarnagan."

"Not to wear?"

"Well, no; I think they might prove baggy on his diminutive person."

"Then why did he take them?"

"He has a numerous progeny, and the young Elarnaganitos have an article apiece. My saddle and bridle went to Mrs. Elarnagan. She rides astride, you know."

"When did the chief take your clothes?"

"Just as soon as I arrived in the valley my horse and I were stripped of--But hold on, Frank; what am I thinking of?" and Henry ran to one of the other boys, a graceful youngster whose perfect limbs and handsome face the _yeso_ could not mask, and who sat his horse as if he were a part of the animal. Saying something to him in an undertone, the boy dismounted and approached me with Henry, who said, in Spanish: "This is Manuel Augustine Perea y Luna, of AlG.o.dones. It is he who planned the escape when I told him there were soldiers near."

I took the Mexican boy's hand and a.s.sured him of the great happiness his escape afforded me, and the greater happiness it would afford his mother and relatives.

Frank approached, took Manuel's hand, and then dropped it to give him a hearty and brotherly embrace.

"Ah, Manuelito mio, I dreamed many dreams of rescuing you as we marched through this country, but I never believed they would be realized," he said.

"But the little Enrique acted, and I am here," laughed Manuel.

"And Frank acted, too," said I, "as you shall soon hear; and you will learn that it took both boys to effect your rescue."

"Pardon me," replied Manuel, "but it is not safe to remain here longer. Elarnagan, whom you saw leaving the valley with his warriors, is intending to move down the Lithodendron to attack your train somewhere on the Colorado Chiquito."

At the close of his remarks Manuel turned away, as if to mount his horse, and then, as if correcting an oversight, he said, "Wait one moment, sir." Going up to the third boy, he spoke a few words to him in an unknown tongue. The boy sprang to the ground and came forward.

"This is Sapoya," continued Manuel, "a Cherokee boy, whom I found a captive when I joined Elarnagan's band. He is my brother, and will go with me and share my home."

Sapoya extended his hand and clasped mine. He was a handsome Indian boy, about the same age and height as his friend. He addressed me in Navajo, which was interpreted by Manuel: "I am glad to meet one who has helped to open the broad land again to my brother and me. But our horses stand still, while those of our enemy fly to retake us."

Evidently the Mexican and Cherokee boys had no desire to again fall into the hands of the Navajo chief. We made no further delay, but mounted and forced our animals down the mountain defiles as rapidly as possible. As soon as the route would permit, Henry and Manuel rode on each side of Frank, and I heard the former ask about Vic. Frank answered in Spanish, so that the Mexican boy might understand. Such expressions as "La perra brava!" "La fina perrita Vic!" from time to time showed they were hearing of Vic's adventures.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'G.o.d HAS GIVEN ME, AMONG MANY FRIENDS, TWO THAT ARE SOMETHING MORE'"]

Finding that Corporal Frank was not doing himself justice in his narration, I drew alongside the boys and related what I knew of Frank's midnight ride and rescue of Vic, an event which, had it not occurred, would have left Henry and his friends still in captivity. At the conclusion of my tale Manuel changed his position from the flank to one between the brothers, and, taking a hand of Frank in his left, and one of Henry's in his right, rode on a few moments in silence.

Then he said: "G.o.d has given me, among many friends, two that are something more. But for your brave acts I should still be a captive.

Thank you for myself, my dear mother, and Sapoya."

Having reached the wagon-road crossing of the Carizo, we turned at a canter over the divide between it and the Lithodendron. As we rose above a terrace our attention was attracted to two mounted Indians scurrying off into the broken and higher country on our right.

"Ah, look!" shouted Manuel; "they expected to stop three naked, unarmed boys, and they are surprised to meet a troop of cavalry! Viva los Estados Unidos! Run, you sheep-stealers, we are safely out of your hands!"

Upon reaching the summit of the divide the whole war-party stood revealed, far to our right, out of rifle-shot. Plainly, our presence was a great surprise to them. Although they greatly outnumbered us, the country was too open for their system of warfare, and they were poorly armed. They stood sullenly aloof, and allowed us to canter past unmolested.

Just as our rear was pa.s.sing them we noticed a solitary warrior advance and show a white cloth.

"That is Elarnagan," said Manuel. "He wants to speak with you."

Accompanied by the Mexican boy to act as interpreter, I advanced to the chief. He took my hand with dignity, and said he accepted the loss of his pale-faced captives as the fortune of war, but he demanded the return of Sapoya. He said that in a fight with the Utes, ten years before, his people had captured a Cherokee chief, who was visiting that tribe with his wife and child. The chief and his wife had died, and he, Elarnagan, had brought up the child as his own. He asked that Sapoya be restored to him.

I called the Indian lad to me and, repeating the words of the chief, said, "You may answer for yourself."

"Sapoya says to the bravest warrior of the Navajos, that he is grateful for all the favors that he has received, and that he thinks he has returned by hard service ample payment for all. He brought parents, three horses, and ample clothing to the Navajos; he takes nothing away but the pony he rode. He has shared his blanket and food with his brother, Manuel, for these many moons, undergoing fatigue and exposure with him, until his heart beats as one with his comrade's, and he desires to go with him to his home and become one of his people."

The chief said nothing in reply, but advancing gave his hand in amity to both boys, and rode back to his people.