III
The Night March
IT would perhaps suffice here, so far as the main point in our story is concerned, simply to say: We went to their relief. But I am tempted to give a brief account of that march, and of the incidents by the way, as affording the reader some idea of the difficulties and vicissitudes of that Western-border, Kansas warfare.
In the settlement of the South Pottawatomie river there were thirty-six men and boys, all told, capable of bearing arms. They had been organized into a company, and were officered and drilled ready for emergencies. But, inasmuch as they were scattered up and down the creek over a distance of some miles, to inform all, and for each to make ready, and for all to get together occupied the swift hours of nearly the entire day.
Ammunition was to be collected; provisions were to be packed for the journey; horses were to be gathered up from the prairie and bridled and saddled. And, withal, preparations were to be made for home defense and for the care of the women and children to be left behind. These, though few, were all the more precious. The males who were sick or wounded, lame or otherwise disabled, constituted the "Home Guard."
Finally, the leave-taking of wives and little ones, though hastily made, also consumed time, so that the sun's rim already dipped the western horizon before we were well under way.
The march thus taken up was one into a night of terror of which we little dreamed when we set out.
We had not gone far before darkness settled down upon us. The sky, cloudless through the day, became overcast, and one could hardly see his hand before him. Only with great difficulty could we keep our direction and follow the trail over the prairie.
But the possibility of losing our way was the least of our troubles. In marching at all that dark night we ran fearful risks. Of that fact we were perhaps only too unduly conscious. Fortunately, however, the perils we feared we did not encounter. Some of them we escaped by the merest and luckiest chance. And some of the dangers were wholly imaginary, though they were none the less harassing on that account. To our excited minds, a foe lurked behind every bush; in every thicket and cluster of underbrush was the enemy in ambush.