CHAPTER XIII.
THE TROOPERS.
Cemuri, the wounded scout, did his duty well. Convinced that Lieutenant Decker did the right thing in ordering him to return to Fort Reno, to have his hurt looked after, he was as eager as ever to befriend the gallant young officer and his companions, thus deprived of his services.
The White Mountain Apache waited but a short time after the disappearance of Maroz and Ceballos, when he climbed into the saddle and headed his pony for the fort. His suffering was great, but his iron will mastered the weakness of his body, for which he showed his contempt by striking his animal into a gallop, which served to increase his pain.
A mile away he came directly upon six cavalrymen who were out on a scout. Among them were Armon Peyser, Budge Colgate and Jack Redfield, who had campaigned for years in New Mexico and Arizona and knew all there was to know of the cunning and ferocity of Geronimo, Natchez and their fierce followers.
Cemuri quickly told his story. He was able to locate the raiders and direct the party to the spot where the three scouts were doing all they could to hold them in check. Despite the pluck of the friendly Apache, he could not hide his suffering, and Peyser, in his sympathy, offered to send one of his men with him to the post.
This proposition, made with the best of intentions, was almost an insult to Cemuri. He refused it point-blank, and, to prevent its repetition, galloped away without so much as a farewell. None knew better than he that he could not receive aid too soon, but he would accept no guidance or assistance from these friends.
“That’s good news of his,” said Peyser, as he and his companions sat grouped together in the moonlight, “for it means a fight.”
“But Geronimo has some twenty of his bucks with him,” reminded Budge Colgate, “and to put matters in a good shape, we ought to have more of the boys with us.”
“We’ll do it if we can, but, if they can’t be found in time, we won’t be cheated out of our fun.”