The Young Scout: The Story of a West Point Lieutenant

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

Perhaps a veteran scout would have argued that, inasmuch as the young officer had heard a noise—slight though it was—the fact was against its having been made by one of the dreaded red men, since none of them would commit a blunder of that nature, when in the neighborhood of an enemy, but it might be they did not think any enemy was near, so it was wise for the lieutenant to proceed on the theory that some of Geronimo’s followers were prowling in the vicinity.

For a period of ten minutes the young officer held his place immovable. During that time the oppressive silence was unbroken by the slightest disturbance. Everything seemed absolutely “dead” around him, the atmosphere itself being as pulseless as the warm rocks and boulders on which he rested his hand, as he glided near them. Certain that he had not made the least betrayal, the lieutenant began to ask himself whether he had not been mistaken from the first in his suspicions.

With his head so near the ground, he lay flat, and pressed his ear against the earth, as do hunters and scouts when in the vicinity of enemies. At the moment of resorting to this test, the ear told something faintly, but it was gone at the moment he composed himself to listen—a fact which made it seem that the noise was caused by the first contact of his own ear with the ground.

“Everything seems to be all right,” he reflected, finally resuming his advance to the spot where he and Freeman had settled down to await the return of their dusky friend.

A rod further and Decker was checked by a rock that must have weighed several tons. He could pass it by turning to the right or left or climbing over it. It need not be said that the last method was to be used only as a final resort. He paused once more and considered on which side it was best to flank it—a question which it would seem could not be settled by an hour’s deliberation, but there is no accounting for the impressions which sometimes sway persons in perilous emergencies. The lieutenant was cautiously creeping to the left, and had turned the corner, when he abruptly retreated and headed to the right.

Advancing in this Apache-like style, he held the Winchester which he carried with him in his left hand, both hands and knees being used to aid his progress, while he peered ahead in the gloom and listened with the intensity he had shown from the first. The configuration of the rock and the position of the moon (not exactly in the zenith), threw a line of shadow to the right of the immense boulder just far enough to enfold his figure. On the other side there was not a particle of shade, so that his change of advance had brought that much advantage to him.

From the corner of the rock around which he had just crept, to the corresponding edge, was little more than twelve feet, and half the distance was passed, when the very peril against which he was maneuvering presented itself. Beyond the further corner appeared the head of an Apache warrior, thrust forward, seemingly with the slow, noiseless motion of the hand of a clock. He, too, was in a crouching posture, for the impish face, with its dangling mass of hair, was no more than a foot above the ground. It was partly in moonlight and partly in shadow, but shown so plainly that there could be no possible mistake.

Although the position of the lieutenant was the more favorable, the action of the hostile proved that he was as quick to detect him as the other was to observe his dusky foe. Before Decker could draw his revolver or bring his rifle into play, the head of the savage whisked from sight. It vanished so suddenly indeed as to suggest the figurehead of a wooden image that was snapped back by machinery.

The situation was growing interesting. Here were two deadly enemies within eight or ten feet of each other, both equally alive to the fact, both armed and ready to take instant advantage of any turn that might offer.