Had it not been for the
accidental discovery of the ruse by De Rudio's party it might have
succeeded only too well.
The lieutenant and his companions managed to get away safely and to
find shelter in the woods. But the Indians immediately fired the
underbrush and drove them further and further on. Then, just as they
had begun to despair of their lives, their pursuers, who had been
circling around the tangle of scrub growth, began singing a slow chant
and withdrew to the summit of the hill.
There they remained in council a little time and then cantered away
single file.
Fearing another trap, the white men remained for weary hours in their
hiding-place, but at last were compelled by thirst and hunger to come
out.
No Indians were visible, nor did any appear as, worn out and
dispirited, they dragged themselves to the camp of the soldiers. In the
forty-eight hours since he had been cut off from his command De Rudio
had undergone all the horrors of Indian warfare and a hundred times had
given himself up for dead.
Bullets had passed many times within a few inches of him. Half a dozen
times only a lucky chance had intervened between him and the horrible
death that Indians know so well how to inflict. Yet, save for the
bruises from his fall off his horse, and the abrasions of the brush
through which he had traveled, he had never received a scratch.
Pages:
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299