The Young Scout: The Story of a West Point Lieutenant

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

This was the case with Maroz and Ceballos, who, though less helpless than Mendez, became so reckless that they threw off the mask they had been wearing so long, and showed themselves the ferocious miscreants they had always been. They cast aside all restraint, and, being more sober than Mendez, would have slain him but for the interference of Cemuri, who had more self-command than even they. He was able to refrain when he had barely tasted the fiery stuff, and with a subtlety like that of Mendez, when he was his own master, he convinced Maroz and his companion that he was with them in sentiment and would eagerly join in the outbreak.

He professed to have a grievance against the colonel at the fort, and was only awaiting the chance to repay it. He would have preferred to wait still longer, but since the couple were determined upon taking the warpath without delay, he was ready to risk everything.

That he succeeded in convincing the two of his earnestness was proof that he was as sagacious in some respects as his comrade for many years. He would not permit the latter, however, to receive any serious injury, and thus it was that the courageous fellow, who was literally helpless, was allowed to wander off in the darkness, with little more than a scratch, received from Maroz himself, who had meant to destroy him without mercy. Cemuri joined the rebels, displaying an ardor that surpassed, if possible, their own, and so well counterfeited that they were wholly deceived.

Mendez spent the night in sodden slumber, but became himself on the morrow. Brushing the cobwebs from his brain, and recalling the grotesque incidents of the night before, he found himself mystified to understand how it was he was alive and substantially unharmed.

It was a part of Cemuri’s far-reaching scheme to make it seem he was dead. By this means his opportunities for befriending the whites were increased. When, therefore, Mendez heard from others that his former companion had been slain and his body flung into the bush he doubted the truth of the statement no more than he doubted that Maroz and Ceballos were leading the formidable revolt. He leaped upon his pony and dashed to Fort Reno in all haste with the tidings. He was considerably mixed as to details, but his story was accepted with little questioning; and the measures were set on foot that have been made clear elsewhere.

Although Maroz and Ceballos had burned their bridges behind them, they were not sufficiently recovered from the effects of their debauch to undertake offensive movements before the morrow.

Enough has been told to give an idea of the emotions of the scout, when he recognized Cemuri in the camp of the hostiles, and saw him in friendly converse with them. Even his stolid nature was too startled to permit him to form a satisfactory explanation, until he had listened awhile to their conversation, and had managed to recall a little more clearly the events of the preceding evening. But it was not long ere he grasped the whole plot of his friend, whose peculiar mental qualities were better known to him than to any one else.

The first natural question was as to why Cemuri, if aiming to give the whites his individual aid, had deferred action until this late hour. There must have been many opportunities for striking an effective blow before this. It may have been, however, that he contemplated a grand coup d’etat when matters should approach a crisis.