Tonio, Son of the Sierras: A Story of the Apache WarKing, Charles
General
Tonio, Son of the Sierras: A Story of the Apache War
King, Charles
Apache Indians -- Wars, 1872-1873 -- Fiction; Soldiers -- West (U.S.) -- Fiction; Western stories
And presently he came. No picturesque war bonnet distinguished him. No
robe or mantle hung in stately folds about his form. 'Tonio sought not,
as does his red brother of the plains, the theatrical aid of impressive
costume. Tall, spare and erect, his sinewy legs and arms bare almost
their entire length, his moccasins worn and faded, but his fillet,
camisa and trailing breech-clout almost snowy white; destitute of
plume, feather, necklace, armlet, ornament of any kind, unarmed, yet
unafraid, with slow and measured stop the chief approached the council
tent, three of his warriors in his train, and, escorted by Bright,
turned squarely as he came before the outspread canvas, entered beneath
its shade, and stopping midway across the greensward, his head upheld,
his black eyes fixed in calm, reposeful trust upon the general's face,
halted and stood simply before him, saying not a word.
"'Tonio, will you be seated?" asked the general, and an orderly stepped
forward with a camp chair. Even before the interpreter could translate,
'Tonio understood, motioned the orderly aside, turned and signalled to
his followers, who quickly settled to the ground and seated themselves,
cross-legged, in half circle beneath him, but the chieftain, accused,
would stand. On the dead silence that followed, all men listening with
attentive ear, even the women and children across the little ravine,
hushing their nervous giggle and chatter, 'Tonio's voice was presently
uplifted, neither harsh nor guttural, but deep and almost musical. In
the tongue of his people he spoke seven words, and there seemed no need
of the interpreter's translation:
"My father has sent for me. I am here."
CHAPTER XXVIII.
A strange tribunal was this--"a method of procedure," as the acting
judge advocate of this distant department took frequent occasion to
tell us when the general wasn't around, "that would seem to have no
warrant in law." Something to this effect being suggested to the
general by the chief of the department staff, who went on to say that
he supposed it was a case of "_Inter arma silent leges_," the general's
beard, which hid his mouth, was observed to twitch, and the wrinkles at
the corner of his steely-blue eyes followed suit. It was a way of his
when trying _not_ to smile. Then Bright was heard to say that where the
laws were silent, wise lawyers should he likewise, an epigram which
long-legged Lieutenant Blake, of Camp McDowell, was delightedly and
explosively repeating for the benefit of certain of the ladies looking
on from among the cedars, even as 'Tonio appeared. Then no crier was
needed to proclaim silence and declare this honorable court now open.
Blake had come to Prescott ruefully expectant of official displeasure,
and found it, so far as the chief of staff was concerned. But the
general's greeting had been so cordial and kind that "Legs" took heart
instanter. There was evidently something behind it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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