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Before mother can get wind of it, I want orders to report at Niobrara." The dawn of an autumn day was breaking over a barren and desolate landscape. The mist was rising from the silent pools of the narrow stream that alternately lay in lazy reaches and sped leaping and laughing in swift rapid over pebbly bed the Mini Chaduza of the Sioux.
The only Indians near the Chaduza were those that skipped for White River last night and are probably heading for Eagle's Nest now. Their trail must be three miles or more west of us here, and South Fork isn't three miles ahead. We'll see it from yonder ridge."
Could it be that they were trying to repeat an old-time deed of chivalry told to this day of their fathers restoring lost property to the legitimate owners? Could it be that, knowing the presence of the squadron on the Mini Chaduza, and the probability of the frightened owners having found refuge there, these Indians were now actually driving thither? They were still on their reservation.
Waiting until the party was fairly out of sight over the far-distant "divide," and watching meantime the movements of the still remaining Indians in the timber, Captain Garrett finally put his puny command in march for the Mini Chaduza, bringing the wagon and the now semi-restored charioteer along.
And this was what they saw: Before them, to the right front, stretching away to the north, lay a broad valley, through which meandered a wider, bigger stream than the familiar Chaduza. It came winding down from the west before making its sweeping bend to the northward. It was fringed in spots by cotton-woods, and bare to the very banks in others.
Finding themselves followed and being steadily pressed onward toward the fort and the settlements, the astute warriors had left a goodly sized party ambling along in front, to lead the cavalry on; had dropped away all afternoon by twos and threes as though looking for antelope or black tail, not northward where the valley of the upper Chaduza was open and shallow and they could be seen for miles, but southward among the breaks and ravines where they were hidden entirely; had reassembled on a little branch to the southwest and then, when the column was well out of sight, had rushed for the north and the wild country so recently left; had forded the Chaduza and by moonrise were doubtless safely camped for the night on the south fork of White River.
The captain had asked his estimate of the distance from a ford of the Chaduza to a distant butte, and promptly scoffed at his answer; indeed, it surprised most of them. Yet "Plum" Gunnison, pack-master, who had served seven years at the post, said the lieutenant was right. They saw within the fourth day that the new-comer was an old stager in more ways than one.
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