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Updated: June 12, 2025
One was Corporal Hugg, a soldier who had been engaged a dozen years upon the plains a rough, good-natured, chivalrous fellow, who, having lost a leg in the service of his country, enjoyed a pension, and had become a sort of family servant in the employ of Colonel Chadmund.
The escort with which he had been provided would have been ample under ordinary circumstances, and in fact, was larger than was generally customary; but it was not sufficient. Dick Morris held a position then known as "hunter to the fort" at the post under the command of Colonel Chadmund.
Ned Chadmund was too terrified to think of further sleep, nor did he dare to return to where he had been lying upon the blanket when aroused in such a startling manner. As he turned his horrified gaze in that direction, he saw the two combatants clutching and striking each other upon the ground, their blows growing feebler as their strength rapidly departed.
It was high noon before a point among the hills on the north was reached from which a fair view of the pile of rocks could be obtained. Colonel Chadmund produced his glass, and scrutinized the towering-like mass, in quest of some sign of the defenders.
Very probably these swarthy wretches were mainly incited to the deed by the knowledge that the son of Colonel Chadmund was to be with the party. It was under the direction of this vigilant officer that the marauding Indians of the border had received such a number of severe blows. They were excited to the highest point of exasperation, and would seize upon any means of revenge at their command.
When Colonel Chadmund told me that, he punched me slyly in the side, and says, 'And yes, Dick, I'll put another five hundred on top of it." "Hain't you got a little more such news?" asked poor Tom, who was wondering whether it was possible to feel any more angered or disgusted with himself than he now felt. "No that'll do just now. I think you've had enough."
Turning about, he saw an Indian warrior speeding like a deer up the path toward the top of Hurricane Hill, where Ned Chadmund stood, all unconscious of his coming. The hunter, astonished as he was at the daring feat, was not thrown off his guard. He knew that the Apache was not seeking the life of the lad, but only to open the way for the rest of the warriors to follow over the barricade.
"That's a good sweep of prairie, and we ought to make good time over it, for our horses have had a long rest." "There's only one thing that troubles me," ventured Ned Chadmund, when the heads of all their animals were turned westward; "I'm so hungry and faint that I can hardly sit on my horse." "That's bad," said Tom, feelingly.
They leaped up and down, swung their arms, threw out their legs, and circled around each other the whole forming a wild and appalling revelry more like that of wild beasts than of human beings. Boy-like, Ned Chadmund forgot everything else for the time but the scene which was passing directly before his eyes.
He required no telling to know that the dreaded programme described by his friends was being carried out to the letter. The Apaches were steadily closing in upon them, and it was evident that, if they chose to do so, they could effectually shut them out from reaching their vantage ground. Young Chadmund dreaded such a course upon their part.
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