Kitabı oku: «Through Apache Land», sayfa 5
CHAPTER XIII.
THE FLIGHT
Ned had enough sense not to undertake to run away from the Apaches until there was a reasonably good chance of succeeding. He had played the game of lameness so well that he had secured considerable liberty thereby; and when, therefore, he went limping beyond the further limit of the Indians, no one supposed he had any other purpose in view than to obtain a better place in which to help himself to water. The trees among which he entered were almost without undergrowth, and, fortunately, were in exactly the opposite direction from where the mustangs were grazing. This left the way entirely open for him to do his utmost in the way of his dash for freedom. It may seem to have been unfortunate in the one thing, that it caused the lad to go away without his horse; but he would have left the latter had he been given his chance, for he believed that while the trail of the animal could be followed without trouble, and might secure his being run to the ground in the end, yet he could readily find the means of hiding his own footsteps from the most skillful of the Apaches.
It is hardly necessary to say that the instant he found himself beyond the immediate sight of his captors, his lameness disappeared as if by magic, and he dashed down the stream with all the speed at his command. After running nearly two hundred yards he suddenly paused and listened. Nothing could be heard but his own hurried breathing and throbbing heart.
"They haven't found out anything about me yet," was his hurried exclamation, as he started off again, continually ejaculating a prayer that he might succeed, for he needed no one to tell him that it was really a matter of life and death; for, if Lone Wolf should place hands upon him again, he would never forgive the attempt.
A hundred yards further in this headlong fashion, and all at once he found himself at the termination of the wood, which had been such an advantage to him thus far. On the right and left, over the high, precipitous mountains back of him, was the small wood, on the other border of which was the Apache camp. The gorge or valley, in the center of which he found himself standing, wound in and out among the mountains before him, – a Devil's Pass on a smaller scale, – so sinuous in its course that he could trace it only a short distance ahead with the eye. Directly at his side flowed a mountain stream, varying from a dozen to twenty feet in width, so clear that in every place he could see distinctly the bottom. The current was quite swift, and in some places it dashed and foamed over the rocks almost like a cascade.
Ned dared not hesitate, but, pausing only an instant to catch breath, he dashed away again until he reached the curve in the ravine, beyond which he would be hid from view of the encampment. The moment this was reached he paused long enough to cast back a searching glance. But all looked as calm and peaceful as if no human being had ever entered the ravine.
"They haven't found it out yet! They haven't found it out yet!" he exclaimed, his heart rising with hope. "That was a pretty smart thing in me to pretend to be lame, and if it hadn't been for that I wouldn't have got half the start."
Passing the turn in the ravine, he felt that it would not do to wait any longer without some effort to hide his trail. There was but one feasible way of accomplishing this, and that was by entering the stream and keeping along it far enough to throw the wolves off the scent. It was not a very pleasant task to enter the water and move along, where, at any moment, he was liable to drop down over his head; but he did not dare to stand upon trifles, and in he went. By keeping close to the shore, he managed to avoid any such unpleasant ducking, while at the same time he effectually hid his footsteps from the eyes of the keenest-sighted Indian. A short distance ahead he found the trees were growing fully as thickly as in the grove which he had left but a short time before, and he made all haste thither, continually glancing back, dreading least he should catch sight of some of the Apaches on the hunt for him.
Imagine his consternation, when, on the very margin of the wood, he looked back and saw the forms of two Indians only a short distance away! They were mounted upon their mustangs and riding at a walk almost in a direct line toward him, and, as he stared at them he was sure that their slow pace was due to their careful scrutiny of the trail which he was satisfied he must have left.
"They have found me out," he gasped, as he turned and hurried down stream again.
Ned was too frightened to reflect that their actions were such as to indicate that they were hunters, who were out merely for game, and there is no telling how far he would have kept up his flight in the stream, had he not been checked by what he believed to be a providential interference in his behalf.
The water was broad, moderately deep, and quite clear; but the overhanging trees threw out so much shade that the bottom was invisible, so that, scrutinize as much as they chose, the redskins could not detect the slightest trace of his footprints upon the bed of the stream. The only difficulty that remained was to leave the water in such a way that his pursuers should be baffled in any attempt to discover the point. This was an exceedingly difficult question to solve, and while he was searching for some suitable place, and growing terribly frightened lest his two foes should pounce down upon him, he noticed a large tree that projected over the water. The foliage was dense and the tree seemed to be hollow. Besides this, one of the limbs hung so low that, by making an upward spring, he was able to catch it with both hands. He then drew himself upward, and carefully crawled along until he reached the trunk. To his surprise and delight, he found it the very concealment he needed above all others. The trunk was large and hollow, and on the upper side was an aperture, probably caused by the rotting away of a limb, large enough to permit the passage of his body.
After peering for a few seconds into the impenetrable darkness, Ned shoved his feet through, and carefully followed with his body. He cautiously shoved himself along, until his head was below the level of the opening, when he paused, believing that he was concealed in the best manner possible. The lad had absolutely left no trace behind him; the searching Apaches were without any means of discovering what he had done, and all he had to do was to remain where he was until the hunt was over. The tree, slanting out over the water, made his posture a half reclining one, and as comfortable as it is possible to imagine. His limbs were somewhat chilled by the wetting they had received, but that troubled him very little, his whole thoughts, naturally, being centered upon the one of getting away from the Apaches. It seemed to him that his senses were preternaturally sharpened, and the rustling of a fallen leaf startled him into the belief that one of the redskins was crawling out upon the trunk; but a full half hour passed without presenting anything of a tangible nature, and hope became very strong in his breast again.
"I wonder whether those horsemen were hunting for me?" he muttered, as he became more deliberate in his speculations. "I was sure a little while ago that they were, but it may be that I was mistaken. I don't think they would come on their mustangs if they wanted to find me, for they couldn't make much use of them in following me to a place like this."
Whether or not these two men were his pursuers mattered very little; for there could be no doubt that his absence had been noticed or that the most skillful trailers were in pursuit. They could not fail to learn that he had taken to the stream and would naturally hunt along the shore to discover where he had left it. This would be likely to bring them very close to where he was hidden, and he trembled as he reflected upon the possible, if not probable, result.
The sun was going down in the west; the shadows in the wood gradually deepened; in his reclining position, Ned Chadmund found a heavy drowsiness stealing over him. The afternoon was no more than half gone when his eyes closed in a refreshing sleep, which continued several hours, and might have lasted still longer had it not been broken. It was far into the night when the sleeping lad suddenly opened his eyes without understanding the cause of his doing so. Something had aroused him, but he could not divine what it was. His posture had become somewhat cramped from his long continuance in it and he shifted about so as to rest upon the other side. As he did so, he became aware that some one or something else was near him. The slightest possible rustling at the base of the trunk directed his attention there, but there was too much intervening shrubbery for him to detect anything at all. Everything in that direction was shrouded in the densest gloom. The moon was directly overhead, and shining so that he was able to see for some little distance when he turned his glance from the trunk. Remembering his revolver, the boy reached down and drew it from within his waistcoat, where he had concealed it.
"If anybody wants to run against that, let him do so," he said to himself. "It has five good charges which I will use up before they shall lay hands upon me or Lone Wolf shall call me his prisoner again."
It seemed to him that, in case of discovery, his position might place him at a great disadvantage, so he carefully drew his head and shoulders out of the trunk, so as to leave his arms free to use. This was scarcely done when he caught the same sound below him, repeated so distinctly that he knew on the instant what it meant. It was a scratching, rattling of bark, such as would be made by the claws of an animal in picking its way along, and as he strained his eyes through the gloom, he saw very faintly the outlines of some wild animal approaching him, a low, threatening growl at the same time establishing the identity of the bear beyond question.
Ned was about to give him the contents of one barrel, when he was restrained by the recollection that his ammunition was exceedingly precious and that the report of the pistol was likely to bring some one whom he dreaded more than the fiercest wild beasts of the forest. So he decided to try milder means at first. Accordingly, the endangered lad tried to see whether the animal could not be frightened away without really hurting him. Breaking off a piece of bark, he flung it in his face, giving utterance, at the same time, to a growl as savage as that of the beast himself. The latter instantly paused, as if puzzled to understand what it meant, but he did not retreat. He merely stood his ground and growled back again. Encouraged even by this dubious success, Ned threw more bark, made more noise, and flung his arms so wildly that he came very near throwing his revolver out of his grasp into the creek.
But it would not work. The bear was not born in the woods to be frightened by any such trifles, and, halting for scarcely twenty seconds, he advanced with the calm deliberation of a brute bent upon clearing up the mystery without any unnecessary delay. Instead of giving him the contents of one of the chambers of the revolver, the young hunter drew back within the hollow of the tree, as a turtle is seen to retreat within his shell when affrighted at the approach of some enemy. It was a tight squeeze, but he insinuated himself along the open space until quite sure that he was beyond the reach of the monster. There he found he had barely room to use his arms, but, pointing his weapon toward the opening, he awaited the action of bruin.
There was sufficient moonlight to perceive the opening, but he had scarcely time to glance at it when it was darkened by the bear, which thrust its head in with a thunderous growl that made the lad shiver from head to foot. Certain that it would not do to wait any longer, and believing that he meant to force his entire body through, the sorely frightened Ned discharged one barrel squarely in the face of the bear.
This settled matters. The latter had his snout and enough of his head shoved into the opening to receive a bad wound from the weapon, discharged within a foot or two of his face. He gave a sort of snarling howl, and jerked out his feet so suddenly that he must have injured himself still more by doing so, and, with a relief that can hardly be understood, Ned heard him clawing hastily along the trunk until he reached the land, when he scampered away into the woods, and nothing more was seen of him.
"If I had plenty of ammunition, I would not begrudge that shot," muttered Ned, as he carefully worked his way along the hollow again. "But that leaves me only four shots, and there's no telling how soon I'll have to use the rest."
He found, upon reaching the opening again, that the night was past and the day was breaking. He had obtained a good night's rest, but he was anxious to get ahead.
"I wonder where Lone Wolf is?" he thought, hesitating whether he had better descend from his hiding place or not. "It is all of twelve hours since I ran away and they must have done a good deal of hunting. Some of them have passed close to where I am, and they must be lurking about this very minute."
It was this uncertainty which caused the lad to wait some little time longer before venturing forth. He had been so fortunate up to this time that he could not afford to throw the chances away. When he found that the sun was far above the treetops, however, he began to grow impatient, and finally came to the conclusion that he was losing valuable time. So he began crawling carefully out, with the idea of resuming his flight homeward.
Ned was not yet fairly out from the tree, when he paused, for his ear detected something alarming. It was the soft splash of water, such as is made by a person who is carefully wading along, and it sounded fearfully near to where he was.
He assumed at once, because of the peculiar sound, that it must be caused by some one who was hunting for him, and no one could be hunting for him except some of the Apaches from whom he fled. If any doubt remained in his mind, it was removed a moment later, when he heard a whistle from the same quarter whence came the sound of the wading. The signal was instantly responded to in the same manner by some one upon shore.
"They're Indians," he said. "They know that I must be somewhere in this neighborhood and they've made up their minds to search until they find me."
For two or three minutes all was as still as the tomb. It seemed as if the redskins were listening, in the hope of learning something of the fugitive through their sense of hearing when their eyes had failed them so long. If such were the case, they were disappointed, for the boy crouching in the gnarled tree would have suspended his very breathing, had it been in his power to do so, lest he should betray himself.
When the splashing noise was heard again, it sounded almost beneath him, and, yielding to a most dangerous curiosity, which, however, he could not restrain, he reached one hand into the foliage, drew it aside and looked down.
Not more than twenty feet distant he saw the figure of Lone Wolf, the Apache chief!
He stood in the water up to his knees, and, at the moment the fugitive looked, had passed a short distance beyond the tree, so that his back only was visible. Had it been a few minutes sooner, the warrior would have assuredly seen the white, scared face that peered upon him from among the leaves. But, as it was, he was all unconscious of the fact that he was so near the prize for which he and several of his best warriors had been searching for hours.
Two of them had paused beneath the tree and carefully examined the branches without discerning the hiding place, and they were now moving forward again, carefully examining everything on each side of the stream where it seemed possible for a cat, even, to conceal itself. Lone Wolf would have given his right arm, almost, rather than have his prisoner elude him. He had been completely deceived by that little artifice of lameness, and it was not until a full half hour after Ned's disappearance that he began to suspect that something was amiss. The trail was taken up at once and followed without trouble to where it entered the water. Here the real task began, for the hardness of the bed of the creek prevented them from tracing the footsteps where the clearness of the current would have enabled them to do so, had the circumstances been otherwise.
Consequently, the only thing possible for them to do was to find the place where he had taken to the land again. For this they hunted until dark and renewed the work again in the morning. But as Ned had not yet placed his foot upon dry land, the enterprise up to that moment was not a success.
CHAPTER XIV.
PURSUED
Ned Chadmund's only fear was that the chief would hear the throbbing of his heart. He dared not draw his head into the tree, fearing that the action would attract the notice of the Apache; so he remained as motionless as the trunk of the tree itself, waiting for the danger to pass. Finally, the Indian was heard moving forward again, and the cramped and aching fugitive began to breathe more freely. He could detect that soft rippling through the water, such as is made by an angler who is hunting some choice place in the brook, and who examines every foot of the water which he passes. At last it was beyond hearing, and all was still again; but our young hero, impatient and anxious as he was to get forward, dared not leave his concealment while so many of his enemies were in the immediate neighborhood. He was confident that if he attempted flight and escaped running against some of these dusky wretches, they would speedily detect his trail and run him to the ground. He concluded to remain where he was until dark, when he would make another start, confident that by traveling all night, and taking advantage of all the means that came in his way, he could place a goodly distance between himself and the perilous neighborhood.
Nothing more was seen or heard of the Apaches during these long waiting hours, unless the distant report of a gun could be construed as their work, and the summer day gradually wore away. By this time the condition of the boy was truly pitiable. He was thirsty and nearly famished, feverish from his long abstinence. Yet with water within a few feet of him he refrained, for the reason that he was fearful of imperiling his safety.
"I'll wait till it is nearly dark," he said, as he looked down at the cool water flowing beneath; "for this is the only chance I shall ever have of giving them the slip."
The time he had fixed upon to venture forth had not yet arrived when he observed a large tree floating along below him. It had probably become displaced at some point up the stream, and would drift along until it should again catch some obstruction, and remain moored for an indefinite time. Yielding to a sudden inspiration, Ned crept hastily out of his concealment, and dropped lightly upon the trunk, which was heavy and buoyant enough to bear his weight without sinking below the surface.
The course of the stream was such that this proceeding carried him back directly over the ground that he had passed, and, in case the Apaches were in camp, would take him near it. But there was real woodcraft in this act, imprudent as it seemed; for nothing could be conceived, which, if successful, would more effectually throw the Indians off his trail. Knowing that he had gone northward, what inducement could there be for looking toward the south for him? The next thing after getting upon his raft was to stoop over and get a drink from the stream, which, having its source up among the mountains, was cold, clear, and pure.
Oh! the refreshing draught! None but those whose frames have been consumed with flaming fever can appreciate the delicious nectar, the invigorating, permeating life that lay in that wonderful fluid, which is without smell, taste or color, and to which no other liquid can be compared.
"Oh dear!" groaned the lad, as he raised his head. "Another drink like that and there'll be nothing left in the creek."
But thirst satisfied left him with such a tormenting sense of hunger that the question of something to eat speedily became paramount to all others. He almost ceased to think of Apaches in his wild desire for something with which to satisfy the cravings within.
The heavy trunk, covered with a few knotty protuberances, kept very nearly in the center of the stream and shifted on below the wood, across the open space and around the curve which has been already referred to, by which time it was fairly dark. Beyond this he could discern the outlines of the grove in the encampment of the day before, and where his own rush for liberty had been made. Were the Apaches still there, awaiting the conclusion of the hunt for him? This was the question, and, in his desire to answer it, he carefully steadied himself until he stood upright upon the log, so as to look across the intervening space to the wood beyond.
"If they're there, they'd be sure to have a camp fire," was the truthful conclusion; "but I can't catch sight of anything."
Had a point of light twinkled through the foliage, it is doubtful whether he could have had the courage to continue on down the stream to the point where it passed so close to the camp. No doubt he would have dodged it. But all continued dark and silent, and he was quite confident that they had gone. He crouched upon the raft again, and drifted with the current.
As he neared the rapids and narrow places where the water dashed over its rocky bed, it looked as if he would be unable to keep his seat upon the raft; but as this was the very section, where, above all others, he wished to keep his feet off the ground, he grasped the limbs and held on. He went safely on, although considerable water was splashed over him, and in a few minutes was in the broad, smooth current below, and so close to the grove that he trembled with fear.
In the dim moonlight he easily recognized the place, and for a few seconds he believed he had committed a fatal error in retracing his route in this fashion; but the silence remained unbroken, and he began breathing more freely, when all at once one end of the trunk struck the shore; the other end swung round, but it remained fast, and his journey for a time was at an end.
Ned was dismayed and at a loss what to do, for the only way of breaking loose that he could see was to step ashore and shove off. He remained quiescent a moment or two, in the hope that the raft would loosen itself; but, as it did not, he sprang ashore for that purpose. As he did so, he looked around for some sign of his enemies, but there was none, and the fact gave him assurance that they had really gone.
"They must have had dinner there," was his conclusion, "and maybe they have left something that I can make use of."
Encouraged by this hope, he moved over the intervening space, and speedily reached the spot where Lone Wolf and his band had encamped twenty hours before. As he had taken his departure from the savages before dinner, he was not really certain that that important meal had taken place; but he made diligent search, resolved that he would find out beyond all peradventure. The very best good fortune attended him. He had hunted but a few minutes, when he trod among the ashes where the camp fire had been burning. This proved that a meal had been partaken of, and in this country, so prodigal in the different species of game, the Indians were not economical in the use of food. Groping around in the dark, his hands soon came upon a goodly-sized bone, plentifully covered with meat, which had not been cooked so that it could be called overdone. A starving wolf could not have devoured this with greater gusto than did he, nor could a dozen starving wolves have enjoyed it more than did the poor fellow who had been so long without any nourishment.
When it was gnawed clean he hunted around for more. There was no lack of the material, and Ned was thankful beyond expression for this wonderful piece of good fortune, by which he had escaped from Lone Wolf and his warriors, and then, when starving, had obtained the food he needed from them. He ate and ate, and then rested and ate again, until he had gormandized himself to his utmost capacity, when with a sigh of happiness, he rose to his feet, and stole back toward the stream where he had left his craft. It was found there as if waiting expressly for his return, and, shoving it loose, he made his way to near the middle, where he crouched down and looked around with a feeling of misgiving and fear.
"I wonder if it can hold me after such a supper? It is a little lower in the water, but I guess it can stand it."
Whither the stream was tending was a question for the wanderer to consider; but as he was without any possible means of determining, he did not devote much time to the consideration thereof. His purpose was to get ahead without leaving a trail behind, and that was what he was doing.
