THREE CAPTIVES. . i A TALE OF THE TAOS VALLEY. I 51 BY EDWARD WILLETT, { AUTHOR on THE FOLIDWING POCKET NOVEm: 1L1 THE TEXAS TIGER. 127 SILVERSPUR. 117 ABDIEL, THE AVENGER. 139 THE SCIOTO SCOUTS. NEW YORK: ‘ BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS. '1 9s WILLIAM’STREET. filtered according to Act of Congress, in the year I”. by BEADLE AND COMPANY. I: m Clerk’u cum 0: the District Court or the United amo- a: In Southern District of New York. A ‘ 11' E 8.1 1H yc Ch me tha ice - thal ‘ 10 n H insu -tmin bette l‘cgul ‘81101; fectio‘ . of ho THE THREE CAPTIVES. C H A P T E R I. ms: AM on WAR ACCORDING TO “ uncommon.” “ I THINK we will soon catch up to them, sir.” “ The red rascals! I hope we may, but they run from us as quick as we come in sight, and will never offer us any thing like a fair fight. We would soon make mince-meat of them. if we could get them to stand, and if they were not such errant cowards and sneaking assassins.” “ I wish you would permit me to say what I think on that subject, major." “ I have no objection, provided that you will say nothing vcy silly, for it will serve to beguile this weary journey to listen to your crude ideas. You are very young, Lieutenant Bent, and you know little of the life of a soldier or of the art of war; but my oflieers are my military family, and I like to encourage them. Let me hear what you have to say, young gentleman.” “ I am ready to admit, sir, that the Indians—whether Cheyennes, Arr-apahoes, Comnnches, or whatever we have met—are sneaking assassins, but I am not so well convinced that they are cowards. That which seems to us like coward- ice in them, is only their manner of fighting, and I am afraid that we shall never succeed in conquering them, until we learn to make war upon them in their own style.” “ Whatl Do you know, young gentleman, that you are insulting the army of the United States, and its educated, trained, and veteran officers? I tell you, sir, there are no better soldiers in the world, than those which compose our regular army, and I may add that the discipline of the bat- talion which I have the honor to command is very neatr per- , fection Are such men to be taught their business by a pack " 0f howling and scampering savages, who maintain no order 10 v BLACKEYES. in their ranks, and who scarcely acknowledge any leadership ! Shall I, who am nearly sixty years old, who have been a sols dier all my life, and who have served under our best command; ers, submit to be taught the art of war by some naked rascal of a Comanche chief? Perhaps, young gentleman, you would advise me to turn over the command of this battalion to you P" , r“ I am not so presumptuous, and I am sure that I meant no disparagement of either the rank or file of our gallant army. But we should remember that we are fighting savages to whom our discipline and tactics and mode of warfare only afford opportunities for destroying us. These Indians are mostly mounted, and they are the best horsemen in the worlt .” “I have fifty dragoons, who could ride down ten~times their number of the red rascals, in a fair charge and in an open field.” “But the Indians will give them no opportunity for a fair charge, and will never fight in an open field. Besides, our horsemen are dragoons, who are not accustomed to the de- sultory and irregular warfare that needs must be carried on in this country. Their close movements, their heavy horses, their carbiues, and their sabers and revolvers, however effec- tive they may be in a combat. with civilized troops, are really of but little avail against a savage and concealed foe who fights from behind trees and rocks, and who picks them off with deadly aim, while he keeps his own person secured from danger. Our cavalry, as they are now constituted, must always act at a disadvantage in encountering an adversary who was receive more damage than he can inflict.” “ What do you call that, if not cowardice ?" - “I call it their manner of making war. War is not car- ried on, as I conceive, for the purpose of showing the bravery of the soldiers, but for the purpose of defeating the enemy. The system which will prevail against antagonists like our- selves, and in a country of roads and cleared fields, will not be effective when it is adopted in a mountaincus wilderness. against artful, insidious and skulking fees. The savages know born on horseback, as I may say, who carries no weight, and ‘ who is oil' like the wind as soon as he perceives that he may Hg...) nmnmur BENT'S rams. 11 that they are inferior to the white men, in numbers, arms and discipline; therefore they must make use of all the advan- tages that they can gain over us. It is not because they are cowards, that they will not meet us in fair fight, but because they are aware that they have no men to spare, because they know that they Would be defeated in the open field, and be- cause they can gain more by taking us at a disadvantage and fighting us in their own way.” ' ' “ According to your showing, an Indian war can be liken- ed to nothing but a campaign against wild animals. For my part, I know that I could easily brush away every swarm of these red insects, if I could but reach them, but we might as well attempt ,to exterminate the fleas in Mexico, as to conquer such a scampering set. They are every where and nowhere, and there is no vital point in which we can strike them.” ’ “Very true, sir. They have no, towns or magazines, and no base or center of operations. They have no baggage- wagons, no commissiarat, no incnmbrances of any kind. They move like the wind, and can never be overtaken by either our infantry or our cavalry. They hover about us, unseen and unheard; they strike whenever they can do so to advantage, and vanish as soon as the blow has taken effect, or when for- tune turns against them. The old system is entirely impotent against such an enemy." “ I suppose, Lieutenant Bent, that you consider yourself a representative of the rising generation, and of the new system. What mode of warfare do you advise, Sir Oracle, now that theworld has grown so wise that veteran commanders must learn from raw youths?” “ Pardon me, Major Buttress, if I say that your sarcasm is entirely uncalled for. I make no pretentious to superior wis- dom, but you gave me permission to ventilate some of my crude ideas, and I have done so freely. If I have given of- fense, I will say no more." ' “ I am not ready to take offense where none is intended. Proceed, for I wish to have the full benefit of your advice.” “ It seems to me, sir, that infantry are almost useless it this kind of warfare, except to garrison forts and towns. We might, I think, to organize and train a force of mounted men, irregulars, like the hunters and trappcrs of the plains and HIACKEYES. mountains, who couldcope with the savages in their own Way, and on their own ground. Our soldiers should learn to be hunters and woodsuien, as well as disciplined troops, and then our magazines of supplies might be confined to the towns and fortified places, for the forces would move without in- cumbrance, like the Indians, and would subsist on the country through which they traveled. Such a force could advance or retreat as rapidly as the savages themselves, could fight them behind their own rocks and trees, could beat them at their own game of stealth and stratagem, and could overcome them by properly developing the superior weapons, as well as the superior courage and physical powers of the white race.” “ You have made a long speech, my sapient young instruc- tor, and you have spoken it so enthusiastically, that you have hardly taken time to draw breath. Iprcsume that you would have your ragamuflln rangers take the place of the army of the United States, and have the leading rovers commissioned over our veteran oflicers.” “ By no means, Major Buttress. You do me wrong to suppose that I could entertain such an idea. I would have them act as pioneers and scouts, to clear the way and feel the ' ground for disciplined troops, as the early settlers of the West have formed the advance—guard of better farmers, and a more 'advanced civilization. My ragamuflin rangers, as you call them, would always render invaluable assistance to the regu- lar army, and their usefulness has often been proved. Gen- eral Braddock was a brave man, and he led a splendid army into the wilderness, but we all know how he was defeated, and how the remnant of his command was saved by the ragamut’fin rangers of Virginia, led by George Washington; \ When St. Clair undertook his campaign against the Indians in Ohio—” “ Lieutenent Bent, you are going too far i" exclaimed Major Buttress, with a burst of indignation. “ I said to you, a short time ago, that you were presumptuous, but not impertinent. I now consider that you are impertinent and actually insulting. Do you pretend to insinuate that I am a hot-headed and obsti- nate Briton, like Braddock, or a superannuated duuderhead, like ShClair?‘ Do you suppose that I will suffer my com- ‘mand‘ to be drawn: into an ambush, and to be massacred where / '19 BENT GETS A LECTURE. they are unable to resist? If I did not know that your re\ marks were dictated only by your own presumptuous folly, I should regard them as a personal insult.“ “ I had no thought, sir, of referring to you, or of saying any thing that could possibly be considered offensive, for I re- spect you as my commander, and there is no one whom I esteem more highly as an officer and a gentleman, than your- lelf. I was merely proceeding to illustrate the position thatI lad taken, with regard to the employment of irregular troops in an irregular warefare.” , “ Enough, sir; I wish to hear no more of your new-fangled ideas, and boyish arguments. A pretty pass we have come to, when a young lieutenant, who has never seen a battle, pre- sumes to instruct a veteran of nearly forty years’ service, and to reflect upon his ability to command, It was my own fault, however, and I have no One to blame but myself, for I ought not to have encouraged you to step beyond your position and the line of your duty to make a display of your ignorance and presumption. I wish you to understand, Lieutenant Bent, that the flanks and rear of my command are well guarded, and that I also have a strong force of scouts in the advance; not, however, for the purpose of defense against the Indian rubble, _but to feel the way, and to find the sneaking scoundrels if possible. There is no ground, therefore, for your puerile fears that I may be drawn into an ambush. I wish you further to understand that I consider that your conduct, since you joined this expeditionary force, has been prejudicial to good order and the discipline which should prevail in the army. You have encouraged the men in hunting and other irregular habits, and have permitted them to stray from their camps and commands for the purpose of engaging in such pursuits You have thus caused a. laxity of discipline which can no longer be tolerated.” “ Do you not believe, sir, that skill in hunting, and a know- ledge ot' woodcraft are valuable to the border soldier? Aside from the provision which he. procures, and the practice which enables him to subsist without a commissiarat, the hunter learns to charge his weapon coolly and to fire with pre- cislon, track his enemy, and to know the wiles and maneuver: of the Indians.” ' 14 BLAC’KEYES. “ I Wish to hear no more of your arguments, sir; you had better start a school for the purpose of teaching ducks to swim. I desire and command that you shall not attempt to educate the men of this force in any pursuits or habits that are not authorized and ordained by our army regulations and books of tactics. You have already done enough harm in that re- spect. I have also observed that you have lately neglected to wear your uniform; in fact, that you are gradually adopting or returning to the dress of the backwoodsmen and ragged rangers whom you have been praising so highly.” "‘ I thought, sir, that when I was not exactly on duty, and when we had entered the heart of the wilderness, I might be permitted to wear a dress that was more convenient and more suitable to the country in which we are operat- ing.“ “The army regulations give no such permission. Your conduct in that respect is subvertive of good order and discipline, and it must be reformed. I have also noticed that you have got into the habit of carrying a rifle and a, sheath-knife, together with a powder-horn and a bullet- ' pouch. No such weapons and implements are prescribed by the authorities, and consequently they are not allowed.” “ Nevertheless, sir, they are very useful, both for fighting and for foraging, and I wish that all 1 our officers were armed in the same fashion, for I suppose that we will have little use for our regulation swords in conflicts with the In- dians.” “ I wish to hear no more of your half-fledged thoughts and absurd suppositions. I am angry whenever I remember the very valuable information and excellent advice that you gave me concerning this route, and when I see my train blocked up and my horses stumbling over these infernal rocks and into these abominable gullies.” “ It is the best, if not the only route to the Salt Lake. We can not expect to find roads in this section.” ' ’“ But you called it a road, and that rascally vagabond of a trapper, whom you picked up at Taos, said that it was afirst- rate road." “It is no turnpike, but it is a good route for emigrants, and is well supplied with grass and wood and water, and TWENTY YEARS AGO. all the requisites for encamping. I wish you had consented to employ Bill Ward as a guide and scout, for he is a good hunter and woodsman, and he knows every mile of this country.” ' “ Confound you, sir, do you call this a road ?" angrily ex- claimed the major, jerking up his horse, which had stumbled and fallen over a large boulder. “ It is enough to make a saint- swear to be forced to travel in this wretched country. There as I live, the foremost wagon is stalled, and the whole train has stopped. As you go, send Captain Sardis to me.” The young officer bowed, with a military salute, turned his horse and rode to the rear, while Major Buttress con- tinued to grumble, and to abuse all mountains, mountaineers, and rsscally red-skins. CHAPTER II. WAR WITHOUT ART. THE time when the above detailed discussion concerning the art of Indian warfare took place, was near the middle of autumn, some twenty years ago. Major Benjamin Buttress, a Virginian and a veteran officer, who had served in all the wars of his country since his boy- hood, had been ordered from Missouri to Fort Smith, thence to New Mexico, and thence to the vicinity of the Great Salt Lake, where he was to establish a military post for the pro- tection of traders and emigrants. His command consisted of nearly one hundred infantry and about fifty dragoons, beside a number of teamsters and others. He was accompanied h}.- a large train of wagons and pack-horses, contu-yingr supplies of all kinds for the expedition and for the post that was to he established. The party had thus far proceeded with safety and without. dimculty, having passed through Santa Fe and up the valley of Taos, and were approaching the Sierra Madre, one of the most southern ranges of the Rocky Moun- - tains. Major Buttress, as has been said, was a veteran of nearly ’ 16 ‘ ' minimums. forty years‘ service. He had distinguished himself On many fields, and had received severai brevets, but his real promotion had been by the slow process of succession, and he had only attained the rank of major when he was verging,r on his sixtieth year. The old officer never complained that his merit was so tardin rewarded, for his gradual promotion was “ according to regulations,” and that His sufiicient to quiet all murmurs and ' feelings of discontent. The major .was a. halo and hearty man, though his hair was gray and his face was furrowed by years and cares, and he looked, as he was, every inch a soldier. He was somewhnt portly, but tell and erect, and the fatigue-uni- form which he usually were on a march set oti‘ his fine person to good advantage. Major Buttress had married, at the mature age at which he had gained his captaincy, the fair but poor daughter of a Vir- ginian of good family, to whom 11c had been engaged for many years. She accompanied him in most of his campaigns, and was his constant companion during his garrison life, until she was taken from him by death, leaving him with one child, a beautiful daughter, who was in her nineteenth your at the time when our title opens. Fanny Buttress, after the death of her mother, occupied the place of that estimuble lady as wel. as she could, following her father wherever he went, nursing him when he was sick and comtbrting him when he was in trouble, sharing his joys and sorrows, and monopolizing all the love of his strong and rough nature. Her beauty and vi- vacity had gained her many admirers, especially among the young oflicors among whom she came in contact, and she had had several offers of nmrringe which were highly advantageous in a worldly point of view; but none of her beaux had touched her heart,and she had persistently declared that she had no desire to marry, preferring to remain with her father and support his ,leclining years. Her last admirer was Lieutenant Charles Bent, who has already been introduced to the reader. He was a young Missourian, brave, spirited and intelligent, whose fortune or misfortune it was to have been born poor. Through the~po- litical influence of an uncle, he was admitted into the Mili- . my Academy at West Point, where he acquitted himself very cmditably. After his gradanthm, he was brevetdd as a second 3 'm RNALS. 17 lieutenant, and was ordered to report to Major Benjamin Byt- tress. whom he accompanied on his expedition to New Mexico. Charley Bent, as he was commonly called, thought it. not presumptuous to fall in love with Fanny Buttress, as soon as he saw her, though it must have been evident, that a. young lieutenant with nothing but his commission and his sword, was not likely to win the heart which had withstood the as- saults of men who were much higher in rank, and of better worldly position. Whether he succeeded in doing so remains to be seen. The young officer was not thrown in the company of Fanny as much as he wished to be, and when he approached her she held’him at a distance, in a manner that was not very encouraging to his hopes. Nevertheless, with the ar- dent and enthusiastic mind of youth, which is ever reaching after the unattainable he continued to hope, and made his advances slowly and surely, as if he was determined to gain the position. It was his love for Funny, and the hope of winning her, that caused him to court the favor of her father, and to endure with patience the petulant and unreasonable humor, and the overbearing manners of that cross-grained old martinet. Hopeful as Charley Bent was, there was one per-sen con- nected with the expedition, who was more hopeful, and with better cause. That person was Captain Andrew 'Sardis, a Virginian, and an officer of over thirty years of age, although he had recourse to the appliances of art to make himself ap- pear younger. As a Virginian, a native of his own proud old State, Major Buttress stroneg favored the pretensions of Captain Sardis. Besides, the captain’s rank entitled him to marry, and his family was wealthy and influential. It was general.y believed, therefore, that Sardis would ultimately carry 01f the prize. There were two persons, however, who . refused to subscribe to this belief, and .these were Charley Bent and Fanny Buttress. The former was unwilling to be- , lieve it, because his own hopes were too high to be overtopped by even the tall form of Captain Sardis. The latter had no thought of being won by the captain, because he‘was per- sonally distasteful and even repugnant to her. Solthe mat- ter stood, Captain Sardis having the advantage of Main: \ BLAOKEYES. r ‘ . Buttress’ favor. and the disadvantage cf Fanny’s disfavor, and Charley Bent feeling his way, and preparing to attack the enemy in front or flank, as the opportunity should present use”; When Bent communicated to Captain Sardis the message which he had received from Major Buttress, the latter. ac- knowledged its receipt by a haughty nod to his subordinate, and rode forward to join his commanding officer. He was tall and inclined to be portly. and his sandy hair, reddish whiskers, light eyebrows, and florid complexion, bespoke his Scotch descent. His disposition and his manners, also, were slightly tinged with the spirit of the “land 0’ cakes.” Al though brave, he was cautious to a fault; although rich, he was not lavish, except upon his own person; although ear- nest in his affections and resentments, he was careful not to betray them, except when he might do so without the fear of evil consequences. Withal, he was accounted a good soldier, a strict disciplinarian, a'severe officer, and an unpleasant com- panion. He was fond of wearing his full uniform, and paid particular attention to the adornment of his outer man. “This is a horrible road, major, if it can be called a road,” said he, as he saluted his superior ofiieer. “ The wagons are stalled, and I really can not see how we are to get them over the mountains yonder.” “ I have sent Lieutenant Bent to help the teamsters out of their ditficulty,” replied the major. “ Perhaps he will. be able to do so; although he is a poor soldier, he may be a good wagon master. He has enough impudence to claim to be any thing." ' “ Impudence ! I tell you, Andrew, there is no parallel to his impudence. What do you think he had the assurance to ,say to me a little while ago ?" “ As likely as not, he told you that you were unfit to lead an expedition into this country.” “ Not quite so bad as that, my boy, though, egad, he came very near saying as much. ‘ He says that the government doesn’t know how to carry on war against the Indians, that our generals and other officers are ignoramnses, that the army is useless, that, the regulations are absurd, and that nothing can be done but by forming a brigade of ragged coondmntarl ~ \ rouse AMERICA. 19 and muskrat—trappers, like some of the greasy scoundxels whom we used to meet in Missouri.” 1 “His ideas of war must be very raw, if he calls this a war. It is like nothing but a hunt for fleas, and the only difficulty is to find them.” “ Just what I told the fellow. Even then he had the im- pudence to remind me of General Braddock and old St. Clair, as if he wanted to compare me with those foolish and unfor- tunate commanders." “ He ought to be cashier-ed, or something should be done to teach him to keep his place. I understand, major, that he has the assurance to lift his eyes toward your daughter!" “ You surprise me, Andrew. I have never noticed any thing of the kind. You surely must have been misinformer .” “ Not if I can still trust my sight and my hearing, which have never deceived me yet. I am sure that he does aim as high as I have said, and I have no doubt that he believes he is as likely to hit the mark as any body. I feel an interest in this subject, major, and I suppose that I notice more than you do.” “ It must be looked into. The young fellow must be crazy, for he has neither rank nor money, and he ought to know, as it is generally understood among usall, that I have other and higher views for Fanny.” “I flatter myself that you have, my dear major, and I trust that I shall continue to merit your confidence. As for the fellow’s being crazy, I think that he is afllieted with a species of lunacy, that is very prevalent in these times. The climate of the west is particularly favorable to the develop- ment of young America, and young America means a com- pound of impudence, conceit, and superficial acquirement,-. and boundless ambition. It is a disease, and that young man has it badly. It may spread among the command, and per- haps it would be well to take steps to stop it. I have known young ladies to be taken with it, and it must be admitted that Bent is a good-looking and quick