The Quest of the Four: A Story of the Comanches and Buena Vista

by Joseph A. Altsheler

Phil watched awhile longer, but he saw nothing except the ordinary life of the village. Then he went back to the glen in which the horses were tethered. They were still grazing, and Bill Breakstone had not returned. Phil led them down to a little brook, let them drink, and then, after some thought, took off the lariats, coiled them around the saddles, and turned the animals loose. He believed they would stay in the glen or near it, as the pasturage was good, and the water plentiful, and that they could be found when needed.

Having attended to the horses, he returned to the edge of the forest and sat himself down to think out the plan of his great adventure.

It was his intention to enter the Comanche village without detection, and, hard as such a task seemed to him, it was even harder in reality. No race more wary than the Comanches ever lived. Besides the boys who habitually watched the ponies, they had regular details of warriors as herdsmen. Other details served as sentries about the village, and the adjacent heights were always occupied by scouts. All these guards were maintained night and day. Phil could see some of them now patrolling, and, knowing that any attempt of his would be impossible in the daylight, he waited patiently for night. He had with him enough food to last for a day or two, and, choosing a place in the dense covert, he lay down. He called up now all the wilderness lore of Breakstone, Arenberg, Middleton, and the others in the train. He knew that he must restrain all impulsiveness until the appointed time, and that he must lie without motion lest the keen eyes of wandering warriors should see the bushes above him moving in a direction other than that of the wind. He also laid his rifle parallel with his body, in the position in which it could be used most quickly, and loaded the pistol. It was hardest of all to lie perfectly still. He wished to turn over, to crawl to a new place, and his bones fairly ached, but he restrained himself. Naturally a youth of strength and determination, his mind took the mastery over his body, and held it fast and motionless among the bushes.

It was well that he controlled himself so completely. Indians came near the edge of the woods, and once some boys passed, driving a herd of ponies. But he crouched a little closer, and they went on. The day was fearfully long. The high sun poured down a shower of vertical beams that reached him even in the shelter of the bushes. The perspiration stood out on his brow, and his collar clung to his neck. He envied the freedom of the Comanches in the villages and the easy way in which they went about the pleasure of savage life. More warriors, evidently hunters, came in. Some bore portions of the buffalo, and others were loaded with wild turkeys.

In these hard hours the boy learned much. He had passed safely through battle. But there one was borne up by the thrill and excitement of the charge, the firing and shouting and the comradeship of his fellows. Here he was alone, silent and waiting. Enduring such as that, his will achieved new powers. A single day saw the mental growth of a year or two.

The sun passed the zenith and crept slowly down the western heavens. Welcome shadows appeared in the east, and the far lodges of the Comanches grew misty. Phil thought now that the village would sink into quiet, but he noticed instead a great bustle, and many people going about. Squaws bore torches which made a bright core of flame in the increasing dusk, and Phil was quite sure now that something unusual was going to occur. It seemed to him that the whole population of the village was gathering about the great medicine lodge. It must be the beginning of some important ceremony, and the time to enter the Comanche village was propitious. He inferred that on such an occasion the guard would be relaxed, at least in part, and as he heard the sound of hundreds of voices chanting monotonously he prepared for his great adventure.

The twilight faded, and the night came in its place, thick and dark. The sound of many voices, some singing, some talking, came clearly through the crisp, dry air. The core of light before the medicine lodge increased, and, by its radiance, he saw dusky figures hastening toward it to join the great group gathered there.

Phil took off his cap and hid it in the bushes. He would be bareheaded like the Comanches, wishing to look as much like them as possible. Fortunately his hair had grown somewhat long, and his face was deeply tanned. Once he thought of stripping to the waist in Comanche fashion, but his body, protected from the sun, was white, and he would be detected instantly.

He spent a little time flexing and stretching his muscles, because, when he first rose to his feet, he could scarcely stand, and the blood, choked up in the arteries and veins, tingled for lack of circulation. But the stiffness and pain soon departed, and he felt stronger than ever before in his life. Then he started.

He advanced boldly into the plain, bent very low, stopping at times to look and listen, and, also, to rest himself. More than once he lay flat upon the ground and allowed his muscles to relax. Once he saw upon his right two Indian warriors standing upon a knoll. They were a part of the night guard, and their figures were outlined duskily against the dusky sky. Their faces were not disclosed. But Phil knew that they were watching--watching with all the effectiveness of eye and ear for which the Indian is famous. At this point he crawled, and, in his crawling, he was so nearly flat upon his stomach that his advance was more like a serpent's than that of anything else.