Pluck on the Long Trail | Page 7

our faces in our coats and
our hands in our sleeves, so that no white should show. It was exciting,
sitting this way, waiting for the attack.
The gang tiptoed up, carefully, and we could just make out two of them
peering in at the beds. Then they all gave a tremendous yell, like
Indians or mountain lions, and rushed us--or what they thought was us.
They stepped on the beds and kicked at the tinware, and expected to
scare us stiff with the noise--but you ought to have seen how quick they
quit when nothing happened! We didn't pop out of the beds, and run! It
was funny--and I almost burst, trying not to laugh out loud, when they
stood, looking about, and feeling of the beds again.
"They aren't here," said Bill Duane. At a nudge from General Ashley
we had deployed, running low and swift, right and left.
"Poke the fire, so we can see," said Bert Hawley.
One of them did, so the fire blazed up--which was just what we wanted.
Now they were inside and we were outside. They began to talk.
"We'll pile up the camp, anyway."
"They're around somewhere."
"Let's take their burros."
"Take their flags."
Then General Ashley spoke up.
"No, you don't!" he said. "You let those things alone."
That voice, coming out of the darkness around, must have made them
jump, and for a minute they didn't know what to do. Then--
"Why?" asked Bill Duane, kind of defiantly.
"Wait a moment and we'll show you," answered General Ashley.

He whistled loud, our Scouts' signal whistle; and off down the trail
Major Henry or Kit Carson whistled back, and added the whistle that
meant "All right." (Note 16.)
"Hear that?" asked General Ashley. "That means we've got your
horses!"
Hurrah! So we had. You see, Major Henry and Kit Carson had been
sent back to watch the enemy's camp; and when the gang had left, on
foot, to surprise us, our two scouts had gone in and captured the horses.
We couldn't help but whoop and yell a little, in triumph. But General
Ashley ordered "Silence!" and we quit.
"Aw, we were just fooling," said Tony Matthews. They talked together,
low, for a few moments; and Bill called: "Come on in. We won't hurt
you."
"Of course you won't," said General Ashley. "But we aren't fooling. We
mean business. We'll keep the horses until you've promised to clear out
and let this camp alone."
"We don't want the horses. Two of 'em are hired and the longer you
keep them the more you'll have to pay." That was a lie. They didn't hire
horses. They borrowed.
"We can sleep here very comfortably, kid," said Mike Delavan.
"You'll not get much sleep in those beds," retorted General Ashley.
"Will they, boys!"
And we all laughed and said "No!"
"And after they've walked ten miles back to town, we'll bring in the
horses and tell how we took them."
The enemy talked together low, again.
"All right," said Bill Duane. "You give us our horses and we'll let the
camp alone."

"Do you promise?" asked General Ashley.
"Yes; didn't I say so?"
"Do you, Mike?"
"Sure; if you return those horses."
"Do you, Tony and Bert?"
"Uh huh."
That was the best way--to make each promise separately; for some one
of them might have claimed that he hadn't promised with the rest.
"Then go on down the trail, and you'll find the horses where you left
them."
"How do we know?"
"On the honor of a Scout," said General Ashley. "We won't try any
tricks, and don't you, for we'll be watching you until you start for
town."
They grumbled back, and with Bill Duane in the lead stumbled for the
trail. General Ashley whistled the signal agreed upon, for Major Henry
and Kit Carson to tie the horses and to withdraw. We might have
followed the enemy; but we would have risked dividing our forces too
much and leaving the camp. We were safer here.
So we waited, quiet; and after a time somebody signaled with the
whistle of the patrol. It was Kit Carson.
"They've gone, sir," he reported, when General Ashley called him.
"What did they say?"
"They're mad; but they're going into town and they'll get back at us
later."

"You saw them start, did you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Where's Henry?"
"Waiting to see if they turn or anything."
"They won't. They know we'll be ready for them. Shall we move camp,
or post sentries, boys?"
We voted to post sentries. It seemed an awful job to move camp, at this
time of night, and make beds over again, and all that. It was only ten
o'clock by General Ashley's watch, but it felt later. So we built up the
fire, and