CHAPTER III
AT THE FORD
As Phil had foreseen, his latest story of warning found universal credence in the camp, as the arrow was here, visible to all, and it was passed from hand to hand. He was compelled to tell many times how it had whizzed by his face, and how he had found it afterward sticking in the earth. All the fighting qualities of the train rose. Many hoped that the Comanches would make good the threat, because threat it must be, and attack. The Indians would get all they wanted and plenty more.
"The Comanche arrow has been shot,
For us it has no terror;
He can attack our train or not,
If he does, it's his error,"
chanted Bill Breakstone in a mellow voice, and a dozen men took up the refrain: "He can attack our train or not, if he does, it's his error."
The drivers cracked their whips, the wagons, in a double line, moved slowly on over the gray-green plains. A strong band of scouts preceded it, and another, equally as strong, formed the rear-guard. Horsemen armed with rifle and pistol rode on either flank. The sun shone, and a crisp wind blew. Mellow snatches of song floated away over the swells. All was courage and confidence. Deeper and deeper they went into the great plains, and the line of hills and forest behind them became dimmer and dimmer. They saw both buffalo and antelope grazing, a mile or two away, and there was much grumbling because Woodfall would not let any of the marksmen go in pursuit. Here was game and fresh meat to be had for the taking, they said, but Woodfall, at the urgent insistence of Middleton, was inflexible. Men who wandered from the main body even a short distance might never come back again. It had happened too often on former expeditions.
"Our leader's right.
A luckless wight
Trusting his might
Might find a fight,
And then good night,"
chanted Bill Breakstone, and he added triumphantly:
"That's surely good poetry, Phil! Five lines all rhyming together, when most poets have trouble to make two rhyme. But, as I have said before, these plains that look so quiet and lonely have their dangers. We must pass by the buffalo, the deer, and the antelope, unless we go after them in strong parties. Ah, look there! What is that?"
The head of the train was just topping a swell, and beyond the dip that followed was another swell, rather higher than usual, and upon the utmost crest of the second swell sat an Indian on his horse, Indian and horse alike motionless, but facing the train with a fixed gaze. The Indian was large, with powerful shoulders and chest, and with an erect head and an eagle beak. He was of a bright copper color. His lips were thin, his eyes black, and he had no beard. His long back hair fell down on his back and was ornamented with silver coins and beads. He wore deerskin leggins and moccasins, sewed with beads, and a blue cloth around his loins. The rest of his body was naked and the great muscles could be seen.