On the Border With Crook - ERBzine

50 ON THE BORDER WITH CROOK.those hills, but her opinion was that nothing could now be donewith the people of that " rancheria," because the whole countrywould be alarmed with signal smokes, and every mountain wouldhave a picket on the look-out for us. Better return to the campand wait until everything had quieted down, and then slip outagain.There was still a good dealof growling going on, and not allof the men were satisfied with her talk.They shot angry glancesat her, and freely expressed their desire to do her bodily harm.which threats she could perfectly understand without needingthe slightest knowledge of our language. To keep her fromslipping off as the two other squaws had done a fortnight previously, she was wrapped from head to feet with rope, so that itwas all she could do to bivatho. much less think of escaping.Another rope fastened her to a palo verde close to the little tireat which our coffee was made, and alongside whose flickeringembers the sentinel paced as night began to draw its curtainsnoise or movenear. She lay like a log, making not the slightestment, but to all appearances perfectly reconciled to the situation, and, after a while, fell off into a profound sleep.We had what was known as "a running guard," which meansthat every man in the camp takes his turn at the duty of sentinel during the night. This made the men on post have abouthalf to three-quarters of an hour's duty each. Each of thoseposted near the prisoner gave a careful look at her as he began topace up and down near her. and each found that she was sleepingcalmly and soundly, until about eleven o'clock, or maybe a fewminutes nearer midnight, a recruit, who had just taken his turnon post, felt his elbows pinioned fast behind him and his carbinealmost wrenched from his grasp. He was very muscular, andmade a good fight to retain his weapon and use it, but it fell tothe ground, and the naked woman plunged down the side of thehill straight through the chapparal into the darkness profound.Bang bang sounded his carbine ! ! just as soon as he couldpick it up from the ground where it lay. and !bang hang !sounded others, as men half-asleep awakened to the belief thatthere was a night attack. This firing promptly ceased uponCushing's orders. There was not the slightest possible use inwasting ammunition, and in besides running the risk of hittingsome of our own people. The squaw had escaped, and that