"It's Deltchay, sir, easy enough," said he, with sweeping salute, "and that isn't all"—this with almost challenging glance at Harris, who had dropped his pistol and was gazing intently through his binocular at an open, slanting space far out to the south-east, still blazing in the rays of the setting sun. "The man of all others that oughtn't to be there stood at that point of rocks not ten minutes ago—the man we sent for Turner, general—'Tonio himself!"
Then both men, the gray-mustached commander, the angering adjutant, turned on the silent little subaltern, who stood there without having so much as changed his attitude or lowered his glass.
"You hear that, Harris?" demanded Archer. And with calm respect, yet almost exasperating drawl, came the unlooked-for answer:
"I was about to mention it—myself, sir. 'Tonio was certainly there—and Turner close behind him. Look for yourself, sir!"
Look, indeed! Riding steadily down into the valley, still a long four miles away, came the extended line of half a cavalry troop in skirmish order, with the supports and reserves dotting the slope to their rear. "Turner, as sure as shooting," said the general—"and 'Tonio as his guide!"
CHAPTER XVIII.
The attack had ended almost as suddenly as it began. Darkness descended upon the valley and every vestige of the Apache was gone with the twilight. Long before time for tattoo the eager watchers in the down-stream posts could hear muffled hoofbeats and low-toned words of command along the still cautious skirmish line, and Turner came but slowly, first because he could see that there was no occasion for hurry; second, because, with his wounded to protect, there was every objection to haste. Between that steadily advancing array and these fire-spitting heaps of sand toward the post the Indians slid soundless away into the gloom of the foothills, and presently shouts of greeting and welcome re-echoed among the rocks, and Turner's men rode sturdily up to the fords. By ten the last litter had been shouldered through the swift waters and borne to the ready hospital, where Bentley and his assistants went busily to work. Six of the men and two Hualpai scouts had been more or less severely wounded, four of them being borne from Tonto Creek on improvised stretchers made from saplings and blankets. Shelter tents, or tentage of any kind, our men had no use for, save as sunshades, in Arizona.
And with Turner came the first tidings to reach the beleaguered post since the couriers were brought in, with their belated tales, from up the Verde. Turner looked a trifle surprised at the warmth of his greeting. Turner had had little idea of their being so closely invested. Turner had sent two runners in with reports, and they both returned safely, saying, "Almy all right, but plenty Tonto everywhere!" One of them said he gave his despatch to 'Tonio, as he dare go no farther. One of them brought his back with him, and the third—Hualpai 21, he supposed—had finally reached the post, as only two nights since an Apache-Mohave boy found his way to the Tonto Creek camp with the despatch recalling the cavalry. They started at dawn, wounded and all; had a long range fight with Tontos toward evening, and another next morning, but forged slowly and steadily ahead with only slight loss, and came in sight of the flag and the fracas late the second afternoon. Turner was glad to get back, he said, since it seems he was needed, but was no sooner back than he was eager to launch out again. Hadn't they heard? Why, there had been great doings up on the Mogollon. Old Gray Fox himself had taken the field and was out with all the horsemen from Whipple and Sandy, and Stannard had joined them, and they were ripping up the Tonto country in a way that bade fair to wind up the war. How had he heard? Why, runners—Apache-Mohaves—'Tonio's people. Kwonahelka and some of his ilk had managed to keep going between them, slipping through or skipping round the Tontos like so many "ghost goats." It was only here, round about Almy, the hostiles were too many for them!"
"D'you mean you didn't know the Apache-Mohaves were just as hostile as the rest?" asked Archer.
"Apache-Mohaves!" exclaimed Turner, looking up in amaze from the hot supper set for him in the mess room. "Why, general, I couldn't have got along without 'em!"