On the greensward, close to the assembly hall in the low ground, the council lodge was pitched—two huge hospital tent flies having been stretched from tree to tree, braced on uprights; and there, in a little semi-circle, sat the general with his principal officers about him—gray-haired, pale-faced Archer, looking strangely sad and old, at his right—black-haired Wickham at his left, and high officials of the staff departments on either flank, the judge advocate of the department having a little table and chair at one side that all legal notes might be made. Half a dozen officers of the garrison, with Colonel Darrah at their head, grouped in rear of the council. Three or four orderlies stood about, but, by order, not a rifle or revolver could be found in the entire array. Seated to the right and left were officers prominent in the recent campaign—Stannard, Turner, Bonner, Strong and Harris among them, while at a distance, among the cedars and looking curiously on, were gathered the wives and families of the officers, with their guests and attendants—at a distance that the dignity of the occasion in the eyes of the Indian race might not be put in jeopardy by the presence of a woman.
Further still, on the other side across the trickling brook, to the number of near two hundred, men, women and children, soldiers, citizens and strangers, all in silence awaited the first act of the drama—the coming of 'Tonio with his retinue, marshalled by that expert master of aboriginal ceremonies, Lieutenant Bright.
And presently he came. No picturesque war bonnet distinguished him. No robe or mantle hung in stately folds about his form. 'Tonio sought not, as does his red brother of the plains, the theatrical aid of impressive costume. Tall, spare and erect, his sinewy legs and arms bare almost their entire length, his moccasins worn and faded, but his fillet, camisa and trailing breech-clout almost snowy white; destitute of plume, feather, necklace, armlet, ornament of any kind, unarmed, yet unafraid, with slow and measured stop the chief approached the council tent, three of his warriors in his train, and, escorted by Bright, turned squarely as he came before the outspread canvas, entered beneath its shade, and stopping midway across the greensward, his head upheld, his black eyes fixed in calm, reposeful trust upon the general's face, halted and stood simply before him, saying not a word.
"'Tonio, will you be seated?" asked the general, and an orderly stepped forward with a camp chair. Even before the interpreter could translate, 'Tonio understood, motioned the orderly aside, turned and signalled to his followers, who quickly settled to the ground and seated themselves, cross-legged, in half circle beneath him, but the chieftain, accused, would stand. On the dead silence that followed, all men listening with attentive ear, even the women and children across the little ravine, hushing their nervous giggle and chatter, 'Tonio's voice was presently uplifted, neither harsh nor guttural, but deep and almost musical. In the tongue of his people he spoke seven words, and there seemed no need of the interpreter's translation:
"My father has sent for me. I am here."
CHAPTER XXVIII.
A strange tribunal was this—"a method of procedure," as the acting judge advocate of this distant department took frequent occasion to tell us when the general wasn't around, "that would seem to have no warrant in law." Something to this effect being suggested to the general by the chief of the department staff, who went on to say that he supposed it was a case of "Inter arma silent leges," the general's beard, which hid his mouth, was observed to twitch, and the wrinkles at the corner of his steely-blue eyes followed suit. It was a way of his when trying not to smile. Then Bright was heard to say that where the laws were silent, wise lawyers should he likewise, an epigram which long-legged Lieutenant Blake, of Camp McDowell, was delightedly and explosively repeating for the benefit of certain of the ladies looking on from among the cedars, even as 'Tonio appeared. Then no crier was needed to proclaim silence and declare this honorable court now open. Blake had come to Prescott ruefully expectant of official displeasure, and found it, so far as the chief of staff was concerned. But the general's greeting had been so cordial and kind that "Legs" took heart instanter. There was evidently something behind it.
Mrs. Crook had marshalled her forces early that brilliant morning. Camp chairs and rugs had been sent down to the cedars, and with two of her favorites, Blake and Ray, in attendance, she and her guests from Camp Almy were seated where they could watch the proceedings and almost hear what was said. Many a curious glance was levelled in their direction, for by Mrs. Stannard's side sat Lilian Archer, pale almost as a calla, and rarely smiling or speaking, but, as all Fort Whipple could see, she was there, whereas Evelyn Darrah had not been out since the night of the dance. The colonel had explained, as he was probably bidden, that Evvy had contracted a severe cold, and her mother could not leave her. At least, said certain eager spectators, Willett must now be here, "for he is back from McDowell, or wherever he went." But even in this there was disappointment. The general had looked to that. Willett's accusation against the chieftain had been reduced to writing. It had all been carefully translated to 'Tonio, as had the reports of the post commanders of Camps Almy and McDowell. No further allegations had been, or were to be, made. With his witnesses in readiness, 'Tonio stood before the Great White Chief, the only man, save one, perhaps, to whom he would deign full explanation.
And now, with the agency interpreter at his left and the agent himself seated among the officials, an eager and nervous listener, 'Tonio strode forward a pace or two, halted, looked calmly round upon the circle of expectant faces, then, the observed of every eye, the object of absorbed attention, with occasional use of a Spanish phrase, but, as a rule, speaking only in the dialect of the Apache, the tall chieftain began. With every few words he would pause, that the interpreter might repeat. It would be difficult, indeed, to translate his exact words or to portray their effect. To imitate the simple dignity of the aging warrior would be in itself a triumph of dramatic art.
"My father has told me of the lies against my people—and me. My people are not many now, and we are poor, often hungry and homeless, and our hearts are sore. We believed the promise of our father and we strove to obey him, but while he was gone, and we knew not where to find him, others came, unlike him. Our enemies, the Tontos, were many and strong. Their agent gave them much meat and bread, but my people were denied. The Tontos jeered at them; their young braves taunted ours, and our young women were afraid. The Tontos killed our white brothers and burned their homes, and said it was we. Then the soldiers came to arrest Comes Flying, and Comes Flying was killed, and my people fled far in among the Red Rocks. They had done no wrong, but they were afraid. Then the Tontos killed our white brother, Bennett, always our friend, and burned his house and carried away his wife and children. Our young men were few, but they followed and fought the Tontos and got the woman and her little ones and tried to hide them away among the rocks until white soldiers could come, but there came more Tontos. They were too many, and they kept between the soldiers and Comes Flying's band. They killed two of our young men and got the woman once more, and then my young chief, Capitan Chiquito, followed, with only the braves you count on one hand, but he caught the Tontos and rescued the woman, and was shot. Gran Capitan Stannard brings me, and all his soldiers, and follows after the Tontos, but it was Capitan Chiquito who first reached her, and who would have saved her and her babies in their hiding-place, only he was held back—held back——" and with his head high and his black eyes sweeping the circle, 'Tonio stood and glared about him in search of an absent accuser. Then, with appeal in his gaze, he turned once more to the general.