Rechey Davidson

Ambush at Quitman Pass


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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 10th 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 to save Corporal Jackson.

      Henley halted the troop. "Sergeant! Did you hear that?"

      Sergeant Riley listened. "Sounds like gunfire, sir!"

      "That's what I thought. To the sound of the guns!"

      The troop galloped in the direction of the gunfire. In two miles, they topped a ridge and could see the Apaches attacking a settler's home half a mile away in a small clearing.

      Henley studied the layout and devised a plan. He sent five men to the right, told five to wait there with orders to spread out and wait for his attack, then come a runnin'. He led the rest of the troop to the left, going slow so as to not raise a dust trail. Hopefully the Indians would be too busy with the settlers to notice.

      Henley sent out two scouts to look for signs of where they might be holding Jackson with orders to rescue him when the attack started.

      Lieutenant Henley led his men behind boulders and bushes to get as close as possible before attacking. The settlers were returning less gunfire. They may have lost someone. They had to hurry.

      The troop made their way to within a couple hundred yards of the battle. Henley gave the order, "CHARGE!" and they rushed toward the Apaches firing from the saddle. The other ten troopers started toward the Indians from two different directions, looking much bigger than they were because they were so spread out.

      The Indians were trapped in the middle from four directions. The settlers in front, five troopers from the right, five from the middle and Henley and the remaining soldiers from the left. The Indians were falling right and left. In no time, the last three survivers threw down their weapons and surrendered.

      Henley rode down to the settlers while his men tied up the prisoners. He was greeted by three men and two women.

      "Thanks, Lieutenant. You're a life-saver. Weren't sure if we was going to make it through that attack. We lost three already."

      "Sorry we couldn't make it sooner. We've been following them a couple days. Lost a few men myself. You're safe now." Henley saluted to the men and turned to return to his men.

      "Sergeant, question them as to what they did with Corporal Jackson."

      "No need, sir. Look!" he said as he pointed to the two scouts he sent out.

      They were proudly leading Corporal Jackson back to the troop.

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