Don Gordon's Shooting-Box, Harry Castlemon [first ebook reader .TXT] 📗

had been there to hear it too. He little dreamed that his brother and Egan, who were at that very moment laying their plans for getting into camp, were destined to be waylaid and taken captive by those who had every reason for holding fast to them; but such was the fact.

As Bert was to be off duty until midnight he had ample opportunity to visit with his father and mother. He walked about the fortifications with them, told them amusing and interesting stories of his life at the academy, and ate supper with them in the big tent. When all had satisfied their appetites with the good things that had been provided for them, the tables were taken out, the Chinese lanterns that hung suspended from the wires overhead were lighted, the music struck up and the dancing began. Everybody, young and old, seemed bent on having a good time, and the fun grew fast and furious. For an hour everything passed off smoothly, and then there came a most unexpected and alarming interruption—the ringing report of a musket, followedfollowed 249it made the cold chills creep over every one who heard it. The music ceased, and the dancers stood still in their places and looked at one another. There was a moment’s hush, and then a whole chorus of blood-curdling yells, such as no one in that company had ever heard before, rang out on the still air. They seemed to come from all sides of the camp, and their effect was most startling. The ladies screamed and ran to their husbands for protection; the gentlemen stood irresolute, each one gazing inquiringly into the face of his neighbor, and the students were thrown into a stupor from which they were quickly aroused by the roll of the drum, and loud cries of “Fall in! Fall in!”

“O, my boy, you mustn’t go out there,” exclaimed Mrs. Gordon, as Bert dashed forward to obey the order. Her face was very white, and she clung to her husband for support.

“Let him go,” said the general. “If he has any pluck at all, now is the time for him to show it.”

He did not know what the matter was—there were few in that camp who did—but he 250was a soldier. When he was in the service he had yielded prompt and willing obedience to every order given him by his superiors, no matter how great the danger he might incur by so doing, and he wanted his boys to do the same thing. Bert proved that he had inherited a goodly share of his father’s courage, for, although he was badly frightened, he lost not a moment in obeying the order to fall in. He ran into the guard-tent and seized his musket; but, to his great surprise, he found that the bayonet that belonged to it was gone. In fact the bayonets were all gone, and the pieces were stacked by the ramrods. Utterly at a loss how to account for this, Bert caught up the weapon and ran to join his company, which was forming on the street in front of its own tents.

“Fall in!” commanded the boy captain. “Right dress!—Front! Order arms!—Fix bayonets!”

These orders were promptly obeyed—all except the last. When the young soldiers came to feel for their bayonets, they discovered that their scabbards were empty. Before anybody 251could ask the meaning of this, an orderly hurried up with instructions for the captain to move his company by the left flank, and take up a position in reserve, so as to protect the big tent and its occupants.

All this while those hideous yells had been arising on all sides, and now they were accompanied by the discharge of fire-arms. These discharges rapidly increased in number and frequency, until it seemed as if the camp were surrounded by a wall of flame; and still nobody knew what was the matter. As Bert’s company wheeled into position the first company went by, moving at double time, and disappeared in the darkness; and a few moments later, rapid platoon firing sounded in the direction of the bridge. Then the students began to understand the matter.

“It’s a sham fight,” said the boy who stood at Bert’s elbow.

“But who are our assailants?” asked the latter, who was greatly relieved.

That was a question the boy could not answer, but Bert was able to answer it for himself a few minutes later. The fight at the bridge increased 252in fury, and the first company, finding its position there untenable, was ordered to fall back so that the artillery could have a chance to come into play. Encouraged by this retrograde movement the enemy rushed across the bridge in overwhelming numbers, pressing the young soldiers so closely that the retreat, which was begun in good order, very speedily became a rout. The old German professor, highly excited, ran up, sword in hand, and made frantic appeals to them to stand their ground and defend the gate; but the ranks were hopelessly broken. They came pell-mell through the tents and took refuge behind Bert’s company, the members of which were thunderstruck. What kind of an enemy was it anyhow, they asked themselves, that could throw the well-drilled boys of the first class into such confusion as this?

“Young shentlemens,” exclaimed the professor, flourishing his sword angrily over his head, “I been ashamed of you. Such fighting is von grand disgrace to the Pridgebort Military Academy. Captain Bumroy,” he added, turning to the commander of Bert’s company, “go ahead and sweep the enemy from the face of the earth. Make good piziness now.”

253Captain Pomeroy and his men went about this work as if they were in earnest. Holding their muskets at “arms port” they advanced in good order, and when they reached the end of their company street, they found out who the enemy were. They were Indians—veritable Indians, hideously painted and dressed in all sorts of odd costumes. They had gained a footing inside the works, and were engaged in pulling down the tents preparatory to carrying them off. Excited as Bert was, he could nevertheless calmly recall some of the incidents of the afternoon.

“Now I know the meaning of that order regarding prowlers,” said he to himself. “I did see somebody in the bushes with feathers on his head, and it was one of these Indians who was reconnoitering our position.”

Being interrupted in the work of stealing the tents, the Indians advanced in a body, brandishing their weapons and yelling with all the power of their lungs. They hoped, no doubt, to frighten Captain Pomeroy and his men, create a panic among them, and, having scattered them, to take some of them prisoners; but in this they failed. The boys were so very much in earnest, 254and so fully determined to save their tents, that they came very near changing the sham fight into a real fight. Now Captain Pomeroy saw why it was that the teachers had taken the precaution to remove the bayonets. If his men had been provided with those dangerous weapons, he would have charged the Indians without an instant’s hesitation, and there was no telling what the young soldiers might have done in their excitement.

“Steady!” commanded the boy captain. “Butts to the front! Strike!”

The order was obeyed with the greatest alacrity. Raising a yell, the boys rushed upon the Indians, and if the latter had stood their ground, there would have been a fight, sure. But fortunately they broke and ran. The captain followed them as far as the gate, and then drawing his men up in platoon front, opened a hot fire of blank cartridges on the bridge.

“Vell done, Captain Bumroy,” said the German professor, who had kept a sharp eye on the whole proceeding. “Vell done. Ven you been in my good Brussia and fights like dot in a true pattle, you gets a decoration from the Emperor. 255Aha! Now stay here, and don’t let them red fellows come in some more.”

Meanwhile the rest of the battalion had not been idle. The battery had been in almost constant use; the first platoon of the second company had successfully defended the south gate; and the second platoon, assisted by the third company, had held the rest of the works, repulsing every charge that had been made upon them. The artillery roared, small arms popped, the threatening war-whoops of the Indians were answered by yells of defiance from the boy soldiers—in short, there was nothing wanting to make a real fight of it except bullets and bayonets. This state of affairs continued for half an hour, during which the different companies were handled just as they would have been in action, and then the firing ceased as suddenly as it had begun. The battle was over. Just then an orderly from headquarters stepped up and saluted Captain Pomeroy.

“The superintendent presents his compliments and requests that you will keep a lookout for a delegation from the Indian camp,” said he. “Should any appear, you will receive it and send it to the big tent under guard.”

256The young captain at once detailed a corporal’s guard to wait at the bridge and escort the expected delegation inside the lines; and scarcely had the squad disappeared before it came in again, accompanied by half a dozen stately Indians, who were closely wrapped up in their blankets. They were fine-looking fellows, in spite of their feathers and paint, and if they had been entering a hostile camp they could not have behaved with more dignity and seriousness.

“What do you want?” demanded Captain Pomeroy.

“Want to see big chief,” grunted one of the Indians, in reply.

“Have you any weapons about you?” inquired the captain, recalling the stratagem to which Pontiac resorted when he tried to capture Detroit.

The Indians shook their heads, but the captain, as in duty bound, ordered them to be searched; after which he told his first lieutenant to take command of the squad, and to conduct the visitors to the big tent. Then, as there was no danger to be apprehended so long as the delegation was in camp, he placed a guard at the gate, and allowed the rest of his men to stack arms and sit down on 257the grass. At the end of half an hour, two of the Indians came back, guarded by the lieutenant and his squad, and accompanied by the officer of the day.

“Captain Pomeroy,” said the latter, “pass these two chiefs, and stand ready to receive them when they return.”

“Very good, sir,” replied the captain. “What did they do in the big tent, Perkins?” he asked of his lieutenant, as soon as the officer of the day had retired; “and who are they, any way?”

“Why, they are Mount Pleasant Indians,” answered the lieutenant, who, during his absence, had had opportunity to talk with some of the boys in the first class who knew all about the matter. “They are principally farmers and mechanics; but there are one or two professional men among them—school teachers and the like.”

“Well, I declare!” exclaimed the captain. “They haven’t forgotten how to give the war-whoop if they are civilized, have they? Of course this night’s work was a put-up job?”

“Certainly it was. The superintendent wanted to do something to amuse us, so he went out to their reservation, which is about twenty miles from 258here, and easily induced the head-chief to promise to bring in three hundred of his young men on a certain night and make an attack on us. Then he wrote to our parents; and that’s what brought this crowd here to-day.”

“Ah! That explains it. But they didn’t know anything about it, for I noticed that some of them were as frightened as we were. Didn’t you hear the women scream? I thought the girl I was dancing with was going to faint, she turned so white. What did they do in the big tent?”

“O, they held a pow-wow there in the presence of all our guests, smoking a pipe and going through all the motions of a regular Indian peace commission. The chief made a speech (I tell you it was a good one and astonished everybody), during which he said that his young men had taken some prisoners whom he would be happy to surrender——”

“Prisoners!” repeated the captain, incredulously.

“Yes. Eight of the first-class boys are missing. You see this company was thrown into confusion when they fell back from the bridge, and 259as soon as they became separated, the Indians jumped in and dragged some of them off.”

“Well, they didn’t serve me that way,” said Captain Pomeroy, with an air of triumph. “They had the impudence to try to steal my boys’ tents; but when we turned butts to the front, didn’t they dig out in a hurry?”

Lieutenant Perkins, who had borne his full part in that gallant charge, said he thought they did.