Chapter Forty One.
The Lancers’ Lessons.
With Bart for a guide, the relief party made good progress, but they were, of course, kept back a great deal by the waggons, well horsed as they were. Alone the lancer troop could have gone rapidly over the ground, but the sight of hovering knots of Apachés appearing to right and left and in their rear, told that they were well watched, and that if the baggage was left for a few hours, a descent would be certain to follow.
In fact, several attempts were made as they got farther out into the plains to lure the lancers away from their stores, but Captain Miguel was too well versed in plain-fighting to be led astray.
“No,” he said, “I have been bitten once. They’d get us miles away feigning attacks and leading us on, and at last, when we made ready for a charge, they’d break up and gallop in all directions, while, when we came back, tired out and savage, the waggons would have been rifled and their guards all slain. I think we’ll get our stores safe at the silver canyon fort, and then, if the Apachés will show fight, why, we shall be there.”
The days glided on, with plenty of alarms, for, from being harassed by the presence of about a dozen Indians, these increased and grew till there would be nearly a hundred hovering around and constantly on the watch to cut off any stragglers from the little camp.
They never succeeded, however, for the captain was too watchful. He never attempted any charges; but when the savages grew too daring, he gave a few short sharp orders, and half a dozen of the best marksmen dismounted and made such practice with their short rifles, that pony after pony went galloping riderless over the plain.
This checked the enemy, but after a few hours they would come on again, and it seemed as if messengers were sent far and wide, for the Indians grew in numbers, till at the time when half the distance was covered, it seemed as if at least four hundred were always hovering around in bands of twenty or forty, making dashes down as if they meant to ride through the camp or cut the body of lancers in two. For they would come on yelling and uttering derisive cries till pretty close, and then wheel round like a flock of birds and gallop off again into the plain.