RECREA TION. 



: 57 



rations in our saddle bags. A night 

 march through an Indian country 

 awakens peculiar sensations. The in- 

 clination to talk is checked by the 

 necessity for perfect silence which every 

 man feels. Even the soldier's pipe is 

 conspicuous for its absence, lest its 

 ruddy glow might catch the ever watch- 

 ful eye of the enemy. The grinding of 

 the iron shod feet of the horses, over 

 the rough ground is all that breaks the 

 silence. One's mind is extremely active 

 on such occasions ; and is filled with the 

 memories of other days. 



Thus we rode, by the light of the 

 stars, until the first streaks of dawn shot 

 up from the eastern horizon, and warn- 

 ed us to seek a hiding place. Finding 

 water and grazing in a deep canyon, we 

 were secure from observation, and some 

 time before sunrise, having carefully 

 posted a strong guard, we were sleeping 

 soundly, the horses picketed, our sad- 

 dles in use as pillows. 



The noon sun of an October day was 

 shining brightly in our faces when we 

 were sufficiently rested to think of 

 breakfast. Then the simple meal of 

 bacon, " hard-tack " and coffee — each 

 man cooking his own — was quickly dis- 

 posed of. The horses were watered and 

 groomed, and again carefully picketed 

 where they could crop the nutritious 

 bunch grass. The remainder of the 

 day was passed in waiting, many of the 

 men collecting in groups and squatting 

 over games of cards. 



When darkness had set in we were 

 again in the saddle, and the silent march 

 resumed; again the grating of the iron 

 hoof — only that to break the oppressive- 

 ness of the portentous quiet. Once dur- 

 ing the night we thought we had been dis- 

 covered. The Apache, acting as a guide, 

 had ridden some yards in advance. Now 

 he came rapidly back to the head of the 

 column, in great excitement, calling out 

 in a hoarse whisper, " Apach ! Apach 1 " 

 at the same time indicating a point of 

 rocks, just discernible, where it stood 

 prominently out in the starlight. Halt- 

 ing quickly and reconnoitering, we suc- 

 ceeded in startling two cinnamon bears 

 from among the rocks, which beasts 

 were only too glad to be allowed to 

 shamble peacefully away. We were not 

 looking for bears. 



We had passed over a great deal of 

 orugh ground, and accomplished a cor- 



responding amount of hard climbing, 

 when, considerably after midnight, we 

 reached a point where the guide made 

 motions to halt, and gave me to under- 

 stand that we must move no farther, as 

 we were now close to the Indians. Dis- 

 mounting, I left the men "standing to 

 horse," and following the guide, crept 

 cautiously forward to the edge of the 

 mesa — table-land — upon which we had 

 been for some time moving. Peering 

 over a bluff we were able to make out 

 a small stream within rifle shot below, 

 the descent to which appeared practica- 

 ble for dismounted men. There was 

 just sufficient light to enable us to dis- 

 cover what appeared to be a body of 

 sleeping Indians in the bottom. Re- 

 turing to the troop I gave whispered 

 directions for the number, four of each 

 set of fours, to remain as horse holders, 

 and with the remaining men came back 

 to the bluff. Here they were distrib- 

 uted near the edge, but not so near as 

 to be visible from below. At a signal 

 from me, to be given as soon as it was 

 sufficiently light to distinguish individ- 

 uals, we were to dash down the bluff in 

 a body and attack the Indians. Then 

 we lay down and waited for the morning, 

 but did not sleep. 



The day finally broke, and, as the 

 first rays of its light penetrated the bot- 

 tom and fell upon the dark figures be- 

 low, our disappointment was great, for 

 instead of the sleeping Apaches, whose 

 slumbering forms we thought we had so 

 positively seen, we now recognized 

 only the charred trunks of fallen trees, 

 burned and blackened by fire. Our 

 tame Apache could hardly credit the 

 evidence of his senses. He was dumb- 

 founded. The men became noisy at 

 once, and were quick to suspect treach- 

 ery on the part of the guide; but they 

 were quieted with a reminder that we 

 were certainly near Indians, and would 

 likely find plenty of them yet before the 

 day was over. The doctor was some- 

 thing of a scout, so I let him go with the 

 Indian a short distance up the stream to 

 see what could be found. They soon 

 returned, having located the Indians a 

 half mile above, at a place looking very 

 like that where we had halted. The 

 troop was mounted and a detour rapidly 

 made away from the stream, returning 

 to the edge of the mesa at the point in- 

 dicated. Again we dismounted. On 



