The Young Scout: The Story of a West Point Lieutenant

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

Mendez silently brought his rifle to his shoulder. He could not have asked a better target and he was certain of bringing down one if not both of them. He made his aim true and then—lowered his weapon without firing.

It is not often that an Apache is inspired by anything of a chivalrous nature, but it was so in this instance. Had the horsemen been facing him, probably Mendez would have discharged his Winchester, but with their backs toward him, and without a suspicion of their danger, even his soul rebelled. He allowed them to ride beyond range, and never did they know how close they trod the verge of death.

The scout resumed his guarded advance along the stream and concluded that he was in the neighborhood of his friends. He halted and looked around, but saw nothing of them. As far as the eye could reach, which in the clear atmosphere was further than would be supposed, the white sand stretched, with the winding stream agleam in the moonlight.

Mendez was on the point of emitting the signal, when once more the whinny of a horse sounded on the still night air. It startled him more than any sound he had heard that night, for it was from his own pony. Its direction left no doubt of that.

The conviction flashed upon him that the hostile who had preceded him in crossing the stream had come upon his horse and was probably trying to make off with him. The whole nature of Mendez flamed up at the outrage. He forgot everything for the moment and set out to punish the criminal and prevent the success of his daring purpose.

But intense as was his anger, the scout did not forget the situation. He was about to confront one of the most daring and skillful of his own race, who was eager to make him bite the dust.

The suspicion of Mendez was correct. Cavarho, after crossing the stream, had gone inland and away from the shore, instead of turning to the left, which would have taken him near the spot where Lieutenant Decker and Maurice Freeman were awaiting the return of Mendez and the development of events. This course led him almost in a straight line to where the pony of the friendly scout was also awaiting the coming of his master.

Cavarho showed his quickness of perception by discovering the animal before the latter detected him. The presence of the pony in this lonely place suggested the proximity of his master, and the scout did considerable maneuvering before venturing nearer. A complete circuit of the animal, however, showed that nothing of that nature was to be feared. Probably Cavarho suspected the true state of the case, though of course nothing can be said with certainty on that point. At any rate, having learned that no person beside himself was in the immediate vicinity, he walked toward the animal with the intention of making a prisoner of him.

Before this, the horse had perceived him and stood with head erect, studying the figure as it drew near. His intelligence quickly told him it was not his master, but a number of soothing expressions quieted his fears, and he suffered the stranger to come quite close before taking the alarm.

Cavarho advanced with a slow and almost imperceptible movement, murmuring gently in his own tongue, while the beast hesitated whether to permit more familiarity or to bound away.