Ambush at Quitman Pass. Rechey Davidson

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СКАЧАТЬ this bank in plain sight. And stay low as they leave.”

      Riley nodded, “Yes, sir.”

      “If they can't get the horses out of the wash, send a runner to the burial detail. A few is better than none.”

      Lieutenant Henley turned and hunted Corporal Jackson up in his field glasses. Jackson was now at the base of the rocky outcrop and starting to climb.

      The minutes dragged by. Jackson carefully made his way to the top.

      “Corp'l Jackson's a good man, sir.” said Riley as he leaned against the bank by the Lieutenant, carbine ready.

      “That's why I sent him.”

      Soon Jackson disappeared over the ridge.

      Henley lower the glasses and rested. “Now the waiting really starts.”

      More minutes dragged by. Jackson had been gone a good quarter of an hour and no signs nor gunshots. Henley wiped his face with his neck scarf then wiped the sweat out of his hat. The air was finally beginning to cool some as the sun dropped below the horizon.

      Riley pointed to the crest of the hill. “There's Jackson now, sir! Wavin' all clear.”

      Henley spun around around and stared at the lone figure waving from the very top of a large boulder. He started to smile, then stopped. Something was wrong. “Damn idiot! Damn it!” He cursed as he grabbed the Sergeant's carbine. “Wave back at him!”

      Riley stared at him, bewildered, “What --- “ then shook his head and rose to wave.

      The Lieutenant beaded down on the figure and fired. The man twisted and fell from the boulder and rolled down the hill some twenty feet.

      Riley was in shock, his mouth wide open, unable to speak. There was a murmur of disbelief from every trooper.

      Henley jerked the Sergeant down and shoved the carbine into his hand. “Get ready, here they come!”

      “You --- you just shot Corp'l Jackson, sir!” stuttered Sergeant Riley still not believing his eyes.

      “Damn it, Riley! Are you blind? Jackson is bald and left-handed! That black-haired Apache was waving with his right hand.”

      Riley turned and stared at the dead body in a soldier's uniform on the side of the hill, a little bit of black hair showing under the hat. Riley's mouth was still open.

      Henley found Jackson's carbine and prepared for the onslaught, shouting orders to do likewise.

      “Damn it, Riley, get down! Jackson's long gone.” Henley stared at the astonished Sergeant who was still trying to figure out what happened. “A South-paw holds a pistol in his left hand. And waves left-handed. Wasn't likely to be a left-handed Apache in that crowd. That's also why I sent Jackson. It pays to know your men, Sergeant.”

      Riley slumped back against the embankment and shook his head. “Gotta hand it to you, sir. You're always one up on me. I mighta gone right on ahead.”

      Henley raised the carbine as the Apaches came rushing through the pass. Their trap had failed.

      “Here they come!”

      Riley spun around and aimed at the howling, charging Indians.

      “Hold your fire!”

      The yelling Apaches rushed the draw firing their rifles at every hat or rifle they saw. They drew closer and closer, yelling their blood-curdling screams.

      “Hold it! Hold it!” shouted the Lieutenant. He waited until they were almost on top of the patrol, then, “FIRE!”

      Seventeen carbines blasted at fifteen yelling Indians. Two fell dead. Two more fell with their horses shot from under them.

      One soldier fell into the ravine, a bullet through his head. Two of the soldierless hats flew into the air.

      The remaining Indians pulled up, fired again, then retreated.

      “Fire!” yelled the Lieutenant again as he shot one of the Apaches running for cover. “Fire!”

      The Indians regrouped and attacked again. Two soldiers were wounded and one more Indian died. Then they retreated once more, this time all the way back up the narrow pass.

      Soon it was quiet except for the groans of the wounded. The troop tried to wind down while the wounded were attended to. Riley made a quick check through the ranks. Still plenty of ammunition left.

      “Here they come again!” someone shouted.

      Each trooper hit the embankment, carbine ready.

      The Apaches attacked, yelling their unnerving screams.

      The soldiers once again held their fire until the Indians were almost on top of them, then let loose another barrage of lead. Two horses and three Indians hit the ground each with one last, loud yell. One of the Indians stumbled to his feet, dazed, only to be thrown backward by the next hail of bullets.

      This time it was worse. Two of the Buffalo Soldiers also fell never to fight again.

      A bugle sounded in the distance and a dust cloud big enough to cover two companies of cavalry quickly halted the Apaches' assault. They turned and scrambled over the hill and through the pass without taking a second look.

      The soldiers hoorayed at the welcome sight and shook their fists at the retreating enemy.

      Sergeant Riley laughed, “Look at 'em run, sir! Your idea sure put the fear of the 10^th Cavalry in 'em.”

      Lieutenant Henley wasn't laughing. “We ain't through with them yet. Send two men to recover Jackson's body, bury the dead and tend to the wounded. We'll make camp here tonight to rest us and the horses. They're long gone, but we should be able to trail them in the morning.”

      “Yes, sir.“ said Riley as he picked two men to find Jackson.

      The wounded were attended to and camp made. They had been through a lot today and it would soon be dark. Rest was needed.

      The two men sent to recover Corporal Jackson came back to camp empty handed. “There's no sign of him anywhere, sir. The Apaches must still have him as a hostage. There was signs of a fight, but not a death.”

      Henley rubbed his forehead. “Oh, no. No tellin' what they'll finally do to him. We've got to get him back.”

      Early next morning, after a good rest, the company crossed the ridge and began following the Indians' trail again. Next time, the battle will be more decisive. Next time, they would not escape.

      The trail led back across the Rio Grande into Texas. At least now the Mexican Federales wouldn't be able to interfere. The Apaches appeared to have made camp some three miles from the ambush site and left early the next morning.

      Lieutenant Henley and the 10th Cavalry followed the Indian's trail some 10 miles with no signs of gaining on them nor any sign they had disposed of Corporal Jackson. Apparently, they were still holding him hostage. They would have to advance cautiously if they hoped СКАЧАТЬ