Chapter V: Part 5

"Hennessy howled derisively and stepped forward with the evident intention of following, but just then his head rocked backward from an awful smash dealt him by the youngster, who stepped out of the tent and faced the furious Irishman. It was the hilt of that old cavalry sabre which had halted Mr. Hennessy's advance. Full and square in his teeth the blow had landed, and as he spat the blood and a couple of floating teeth from between his lacerated lips, he yelled, 'Ye son of a scutt! ye wud play wid the tools, wud yez?' He sprang into the open door of his own quarters, snatched up his sabre, and, leaping out, sent the scabbard clattering to the earth as he strode toward the waiting Jap, who seemed to have forgotten his anger and was now smiling expectantly.

"The blow had instantly sobered the big trooper, but it had also wakened the devil in him, and it was evident to the men who ran flocking to the scene that Hennessy meant to hurt the boy, possibly to kill him.

"'Now, ye haythen toad, I'll show yez how to use the business end av a cheese knife! I'll just slice off wan ear as a sooveneer an' then I'll spank yez with the flat av me blade; but if ye are nasty about it, by God, I'll take the two av thim,' and with this he made a vicious cut at Sammy's head, the blow slipping harmlessly from the waiting steel.

"Two of the men started to rush Hennessy from the rear to prevent a killing, but Reynolds interfered, saying, 'Let him alone; this isn't your fight.'

"'But Hennessy's crazy drunk and will kill him!'

"'I don't think so,' calmly replied Reynolds. 'Hennessy will presently see a great light, and, if I mistake not, will be a very sober man when he finishes his job.'

"And it was so. For the first few moments Sammy seemed content to parry the strokes which were rained upon him with all the strength and fury of the enraged Irishman. So furiously did Hennessy press home his attack, and so steadfastly did the little Jap hold his ground, that again and again the blades were engaged up to the very hilt, and it seemed that Sammy's unguarded sword-hand must surely suffer; but each time a deft turn of the wrist put aside the danger. The boy's enigmatical smile, and the ease with which he parried each savage cut and thrust, seemed to drive the big trooper wild, for with a fierce oath he redoubled his effort and sought by sheer weight to break down his adversary's guard.

"Then Sammy's tactics changed, and within ten seconds the spellbound men realised, as did Hennessy, that with all his bulk and strength the big fellow was but as a child, absolutely at the mercy of that smiling, youthful foe, while the sword-play which followed was the talk of many a campfire in the years that followed.

"Stepping back a pace, the Japanese suddenly set his sabre whirling in a peculiar wheel-like movement, which opposed a circular shield of steel to Hennessy's weapon. Swifter and swifter whirled that shining thing, its sibilant hiss growing more and more venomous, menacing, and deadly. Utterly confounded, Hennessy paused, his sword-arm extended, too dumbfounded to give ground or to drop his point. Suddenly the guardless sabre shot out, and, engaging the Irishman's blade, tore it from his hand and sent it flying over the heads of the crowd, to fall harmlessly fifty feet away. Then, as his arms dropped limply, the grey of a great fear stole over Hennessy's face, not the fear of a coward, but the fear of a brave man who looks into the eyes of a death he cannot parry,--while that silent serpent of steel darted through his hair, between ear and skull, first on one side, then the other; passed like lightning within a hairbreadth of his jugular; then under each armpit, or flicked a button from the bosom of his shirt, as if seeking the most deadly spot to place its fatal sting. Yet no harm came to the Irishman; not one drop of blood did he lose.

"In a minute it was ended. Sammy swung his sabre upward and brought it down flat-side, landing with a sounding whack just above Hennessy's left ear, knocking all the sense out of him for five minutes. Turning to Reynolds, the boy laughingly said, 'Me no hurt him; him no Samurai; him big boy, not know how for make those fight.' Then he sat down before his tent and resumed the repairs on his buckle.

"That settled it. Sammy had made good as a fighting man, and from that day he was the idol of the Company. Hennessy was thoroughly whipped, and, like a real man, he knew it and bore no malice. After an hour he emerged from his quarters, and walking up to the Jap, grasped his hand.

"'Sammy, yure the boss. God knows ye should av kilt me for the dhirty cur that I was, but ye didn't, and I'm yure frind. If yez want a striker to clane yure horse, or to be doin' yure maynial wurruk, it's meself that's lookin' for the job, for ye are the biggest man I iver hooked up wid, if ye are put up in a small bundle.'

"Sammy's smile broadened, as he warmly shook the Irishman's hand.

"'Hennessy one fine boy, when he no make of those drink; it is good for be friends.'

"Hennessy spent ten days in the guardhouse for his drunken folly, and it was Sammy who regularly carried to him tidbits from his own mess.

"We had enjoyed a season of comparative quiet, but the long expected break came early in July. The entire Apache nation, which had for months been seething with unrest, now broke into open revolt with the usual campaign of murder and pillage.

"At dusk one evening a courier, who had ridden seventy miles since noon, brought orders from the Colonel to intercept a war party of seventy or eighty Tontos, who were reported raiding up the San Simeon Valley, bound for Sonora. Company F, at Fort Bowie, would cut them off from the outlet at the upper end of the valley, when it was supposed the reds would swing to the westward and, skirting the hills, would cross the Divide at or near Dragoon Summit and make for the Mexican border through the foothills to the west of Dos Cabesos. By hard riding it might be possible to intercept them at Hanging Rock Springs, a favourite camping-place for such expeditions.

"Hurried preparations were made, and at three o'clock next morning Troop C filed out from cantonments on its long ride. As men and horses were fresh, we rapidly put mile after mile behind us in the cool morning hours. A hurried breakfast as the sun came up from behind the distant Dragoons, and then began the dreary ride across the desolate stretch of hill and plain which lay between us and Hanging Rock, the point at which I hoped to bag our game. Mile after mile we jogged under the blazing Arizona sun, the rear of the little column hidden in the blinding alkali dust, which rose in clouds from the dry, parched earth. Far to the front, with the flankers, rode Reynolds, and with him Sammy, who had entered upon this man-hunt with all the enthusiasm of a boy.

"At noon we halted for an hour, to rest the horses and eat our slender ration; then on we pushed across the barren wastes toward our destination. At mid-afternoon the heat became terrific, the horses suffering severely and many of them beginning to show evidences of the twelve-hours' stretch. Hanging Rock, fifteen miles away, was now in plain view across the valley, but it began to be questionable whether the command could reach it before dusk, and it would be most imprudent to scale the hill and enter that rocky den after the sun had gone down.

"Nature, in a freakish mood, had pushed the long shelf of rock out from the summit of the divide, and most strange it was that there, high up above the plain, should bubble forth from beneath the hanging scarp of stone, a great spring of clear, cool water. The ridge was a wilderness of giant boulders, a jungle of ragged rocks, thick strewn, as if scattered by some Titan hand in the far-off days when earth was young.

"Suddenly the left flankers, a half mile in advance, drew up, and Reynolds' signal told me that something unusual was beyond. A moment later we saw a single horseman emerge from one of the numerous blind cañons on the left and ride rapidly toward the waiting soldiers. Reaching them he seemed to confer for a moment, then Reynolds wheeled and dashed back toward the column, waving his hat and shouting some unintelligible message. As I rode forward to meet the flying horseman, his white face warned me of evil tidings.

"'Captain, a scout from Fort Grant says that the Colonel's wife and his two little children, with a detail of six men, left Grant at noon, to meet the Colonel at Huachuca; two hours after they left the post, news of the break reached the camp, and Captain Dunlap sent this scout after the Colonel's wife to bring her back. He ran into a band of Apaches who were following the trail of the ambulance, and he thinks they will overtake it at Hanging Rock. Unable to warn the detail, and with another band of Indians between him and Grant, he cut around and was making for Huachuca when he spied us.'

"God! It was fifteen miles to Hanging Rock, and even now the little detail might be surrounded. And a woman, too! It meant swift action; so, turning to the command, I told the men the situation, explaining that the lives of our Colonel's wife and children, and of the six troopers, depended upon our reaching Hanging Rock before the reds could complete their devilish work. As many of the horses were exhausted, it would depend upon those who had the best mounts to make the rescue, so I ordered each man to do his best and started the entire troop upon a free-for-all run for the Rock. Within ten minutes Company C was strung out for a mile across the desert, the better horses forging to the front, the weaker falling to the rear.

"Fortunately, my horse was in fair condition and carried me well to the front. I rode hard, but far in advance of all raced Reynolds' big bay and Sammy's pinto. An hour, which seemed an eternity, had passed, when less than a score of troopers reached the foot of the ridge a mile from the spring. As one after another of the horses dropped back exhausted, I wondered how many would be with me at the finish, and if we should be in time.

"Suddenly from the heights above came the far-away bang of a Springfield, then another, while the faint puff of rifle smoke floating from the summit told us that the Tontos were at work. Up the slope we went as rapidly as the reeking horses would carry us; far to the front, now disappearing behind the rocks, rode Reynolds and Sammy. The reports of the Springfields came ever clearer to us as we toiled up the rocky slope, and now and again we heard the exultant yells of the savages as they pressed their attack.

"A quarter of a mile from the spring my horse wavered, then stumbled and fell, unable to carry me another rod. Snatching my pistols from the holsters, I ran on, hoping against hope that we might be in time. A louder chorus of savage yells and a popping of the Colts told me that Reynolds and Sammy had reached the scene. Breathless with the uphill run, I finally turned a giant boulder, and the little amphitheatre about the spring was spread out before me.

"To the rear of the water hole stood an ambulance, the mules all down; just behind the spring, and cowering against the overhanging rock, was the Colonel's wife, with her helpless little ones; while lying about were five motionless figures in faded army blue, which told the story of brave men who had battled to the last and had died the soldier's death. Beside the praying woman knelt a wounded trooper, calmly shooting into the horde of savage figures who were darting and dodging amidst the rocks; while to the left and in front stood Sammy and Reynolds, their Colts spitting viciously at the Indians, who were evidently surprised and disturbed by the unwelcome re-enforcements. The men were directly between the Indians and the woman, and as the savages hoped to capture the latter alive they were not using their guns, but had attacked the Jap and his comrade with knives and war clubs.

"As I looked, the wounded man went down, and, casting aside their empty weapons, Reynolds and Sammy drew their sabres and stood between the kneeling woman and the two score of yelping beasts. A moment later Reynolds toppled backward from a murderous thrust in the side and a blow from a war club upon the head, delivered simultaneously, and Sammy was alone, confronting that swarm of naked cut-throats. A half-dozen of my men now came running up the trail, and in an instant their Springfields were roaring as they pressed forward, shooting, and shouting encouragement to the boy.

"And then, startlingly clear and vibrant, above the din of the yelling savages, above the shouts of the men and the banging of the Springfields, rose in a foreign tongue a strange, weird chant, full and sonorous as a trumpet-call. It was the battle song of the Samurai,--Sammy's answering challenge--the war-cry of his fathers. About him shimmered and hissed that impenetrable circle of steel, and though they hacked and stabbed in frantic haste, not once did a hostile thrust reach beyond that matchless guard. Like a thing of light, the shining weapon darted here and there, claiming with each touch its tithe of blood.

"The leader of the redskins, a hideously painted buck, seeing the rescuers near at hand, made a sudden feint and, dropping upon one knee, attempted to stab the boy through the abdomen. It was his last stroke, for as Sammy sprang back his blade whirled downward, the savage hand dropped to the earth, lopped clean at the wrist as with an axe, and the next instant a life went out through an ugly gash in the dusky throat. Louder rose that rhythmic chant, while ever, like some thin flame, the slender blade played swiftly about the swordsman.

"Reynolds struggled to rise, but was too badly hurt, and sank beside the prostrate trooper. Never pausing in his song, Sammy stepped in front of his fallen friend, and as the steel told on its fateful tale, high up above the din of strife the sonorous words rang out:

"'Heed me, oh mighty ones, my fathers of the past! The spirit lives within thy son! See! the arm is strong, the hand is sure, and with each stroke the life wine flows! To the sacred annals of our house I add another deed. Hail to ye, oh mighty dead! Hail! heroes of Yamato's line!'

"Swiftly and more deadly flamed that gleaming brand, as Sammy, seemingly endowed with more than human strength, now took the offensive and pressing into the struggling band, made a sudden, swinging side-cut which swept a head completely from its moorings, then plunged a foot of steel into another naked breast.

"It was more than the Tontos could stand, and they gave way before the Jap's sudden onslaught, taking refuge behind the rocks. A dozen troopers were now in action, their fire soon causing the Indians to scatter like quail along the rocky ridge, where it would have been foolhardy to pursue.

"As the Indians fled Sammy dropped his dripping point, and turning, ran back to Reynolds, and was in the act of lifting him when an Indian, who had paused in his flight, rested his rifle barrel upon a boulder, and, taking deliberate aim, shot the Jap through the body. The little fellow pitched forward and lay so motionless we thought him dead; but as the boys tenderly lifted and turned him he smiled faintly, as he said, 'Me all right; help Meester Reynolds.' Then the mercy of unconsciousness came to him, and he lay white and still as one whose earthly cares were at an end.

"It was the wickedest little fight I've ever seen; five troopers were dead and three were desperately wounded, while there were eighteen good Indians to balance the account, seven of them Sammy's. But the woman and her babies were safe, so the sacrifice had not been wholly in vain.

"The surgeon shortly reached the scene and hurriedly examined the wounded men. To my look of inquiry, he replied, 'Reynolds and the other man will pull through, but Sammy is booked, spine broken.' From the troopers gathered close about came a half-suppressed sob, which told, more eloquently than words, how the lad had won them.

"Throwing out a strong picket, I made quick preparations for the night. Within an hour the remainder of the command had struggled in, the Colonel's wife and children were housed in the ambulance, supper was cooked, then the stillness and the grandeur of an Arizona night was upon that blood-stained bivouac.

"Reynolds, his head bandaged and the long cut in his side dressed and stitched, slept fitfully, muttering incoherently of unknown people and places. For Sammy, nothing could be done; his hurt was mortal, and within a few hours the great Silence, the Nirvana of his faith, would be his. Presently the moon came swinging up into the cloudless, starlit sky, driving back the shadows, toning the rough outlines of the rocks, and making beautiful the rugged amphitheatre about the spring. By ten o'clock it was as light as at early dawn, while the surgeon and I sat beside the now conscious boy as he lay upon the rough blanket bed.

"'Sammy,' I said, as I took his hand, 'you are badly wounded and it may be that you will not again return to your people. Will you tell me of your home, and will you give me some message for those who are dear to you?"

"There was wondrous strength in the grip he gave my hand, and his voice was steady as, in halting, uncertain English, he told me of his birthplace in far-away Japan, his beautiful Japan that he would never see again; of his father, the 'grand man' who had sent him out into the world that he might learn the ways of the 'Merican Soldier,' and thus be of greater service to his country in some day of need. He told us of the great palace upon a hill, which had been his home, and spoke reverently of the little mother who waited for his return. He was most anxious that his father should know he had fallen in battle, and that many men had felt his steel before he went down.

"'Me Samurai,' he added, simply; 'it is good that Samurai should die in those fight.'

"Reynolds, unconscious and feverishly moaning, lay a few feet distant, and Sammy asked that he be moved so that he might lie beside his friend. Just beside his bed the moonlight showed a tiny desert flower, a flower not born to blush unseen, but destined, thank God, to brighten the dying hour of that home-hungry little Japanese. He plucked the flower, and lifting it to his lips, he said, 'Many flowers in my countree.' After this he lay very still, gazing steadily up into the limitless, jewelled space, as if trying to fathom the eternal mystery of life and death. It was nearly midnight when I noticed that his hands were growing cold, and found that the respiration was growing very laboured. The surgeon, after feeling the pulse, beckoned me aside to whisper that the hour was come.

"As we bent over him, his eyes sought mine and he said, haltingly, 'Captaine and that doctor man are been verre good to Sammy.' Turning his head, he noticed that the blanket had fallen away from his comrade's shoulder; with great effort he reached out, and pulling the blanket in place, patted the shoulder lovingly, and laid the desert flower upon Reynolds' breast. 'Him my friend,' he whispered; 'him Samurai, too; him 'Merican Samurai.' For a few minutes his pulse fluttered intermittently, when I saw that his lips were moving, and bending low, I caught the faintly murmured words, 'Nippon! Nippon! Samurai!' Then the brave heart was still forever, and we knew that a gallant soul had passed.

"So died a Samurai; giving his young life in defense of the helpless ones of an alien people, a people who regarded him and his kind as pagans. Surely, in the final muster, the Great Commander, making no distinction as to race or creed, will reward soldiers such as he.

"It was a sad returning to the home camp. Reynolds, raving in delirium, was conveyed slowly in the ambulance, and it was not until after poor Sammy had been buried that he regained consciousness. A fortnight later he emerged from the hospital, gaunt and haggard, with deep lines on his brow from this last sorrow, for he had loved his little comrade with all the strength of his great nature.

"The men came in a body to request that Sammy should be given a soldier's funeral. The Colonel, who had arrived, and had heard how the boy died, cried like a child as he told the men they should have their wish.

"At sunset we laid him to rest, with full military honours. The salute was fired; then, with tears coursing down his bronzed cheek, the bugler stepped to the head of that lowly grave and sounded taps--the soldier's 'good-night.' Sweetly and sadly those mournful cadences floated out over the desert, Troop C's farewell to little Sammy.

"Two days later a message came from Department Headquarters inquiring if one Izo Yamato, a Japanese, was at Huachuca, and if so to extend to him every courtesy, etc., etc., by order of the War Department. I replied, briefly detailing the history of his death. I also wrote the Japanese consul at San Francisco, telling him all.

"A month slipped by, when an ambulance and escort arrived from Benson. Sammy's father, Count Yamato, a distinguished man of middle age, had come to take the body home. Through an interpreter and Reynolds he heard the story of Sammy's gallant fight and death. He was much moved and, though his eyes were dim with unshed tears, he gravely saluted the Colonel and myself, and declared himself content, since his son had died as befitted a Samurai of his rank.

"Through the interpreter, we told him of the great friendship between his son and Reynolds. It was after a long talk with the Count next day that Reynolds sought the Colonel with a strange request. He explained that, as his three years of service would expire within a month, he desired the Colonel's influence with the Department in securing his immediate discharge. The Count had offered formally to adopt him as his son and, having no ties which bound him to his native land, the Sergeant had accepted. Count Yamato seconded the petition, stating that having lost his only son, his heart had gone out to the gallant young American whom he now desired to make his heir. It was easily arranged, and two days later they started west with Sammy's remains.

"Within a week or two after I, too, was in San Francisco, ordered to duty at the Presidio. As I crossed the ferry from Oakland, we ran close under the stern of a great Pacific liner bound for the Orient. On the after-deck stood a tall figure, and Sergeant Reynolds' voice came to me across the waters, 'Good-bye and God bless you, Captain.' The Count stood beside him, and I knew that below decks little Sammy's body was going home to sleep beside his fathers. Into the splendour of the sunset which lay beyond the Golden Gate, to the far-off land of flowers, sailed the mighty ship bearing my two Samurai, the living and the dead."

The Colonel paused in his story, and taking from his pocket a letter postmarked Tokio, Japan, May 1, 1904, he read the following extract:

"'As a military man you are, of course, interested in the war. Here in Japan we hear little of events at the front save the official dispatches, with which you are already familiar. Yesterday, however, I witnessed an event of more than passing interest. During the recent desperate fighting between the Japanese torpedo flotilla and the Russian battleships about Port Arthur, a lieutenant-commander of the Japanese navy, in command of a destroyer, made a daring and successful attack upon one of the enemy's vessels. He was killed in the action, and his body brought home for interment. Never have I seen so splendid a spectacle nor so impressive a service. In attendance were the Emperor and the entire Imperial Court, as well as the highest officers of the Army and Navy, all ablaze with gold lace and jewelled decorations. The body rested upon a magnificent catafalque of purple velvet, bearing the national arms and draped with the battle-flags of his ship. It seems that the officer had been a Samurai, a member of some noble family, and, in recognition of his gallantry in action, a part of the ceremony was the conferring by the Emperor on the dead man of the Order of the Golden Kite, thus marking him as one of Japan's national heroes. After this ceremony was ended, an old, white-haired noble, said to be the dead man's father, took from an attendant a package, which proved to be a silken American flag, with which he reverently covered the casket. Then the crowd slowly filed out, leaving the dead hero alone under the folds of Old Glory. It is said to have been an event unprecedented in the history of Japan, but I could learn little concerning it. Those I asked either didn't know, or wouldn't tell. Strange people, these Japanese.'"

The Colonel folded up the letter and replaced it in his pocket. As he rose to bid us good-night, he said:

"I have since learned that the daring commander who gave his life to Japan, and whose body lay in the old temple, shrouded in the American colours, was Sergeant Reynolds of old Troop C, one of my Two Samurai."

END