Kitabı oku: «Through Apache Land», sayfa 8

CHAPTER XXI.
FRIENDS TOGETHER

Up to this stage the two hunters had found no opportunity to pay much heed to Ned, who had been rescued so narrowly from horrible cruelty. Tom Hardynge now advanced to where he stood, and thrust out his hand, his face one broad grin.

"How are ye, my lad? We've had a long tramp for ye, and come mighty nigh bein' too late."

"Have you been looking for me?" asked the boy, in amazement.

"Yes, sir, we've been on the hunt for some days."

"How is that?"

Dick Morris briefly explained how Colonel Chadmund had received warning through a friendly Indian runner of the projected massacre of the cavalry escort. Knowing that it was impossible to forward reinforcements to them in time, and that Lone Wolf was aiming specially to get his hands upon his little boy, he had sent Dick post-haste with orders to intercept Tom, if possible, and both had been instructed to secure possession of the lad by any possible means in their power.

After a cautious investigation at the outset, when they arrived at Devil's Pass, they found that the massacre had taken place almost twenty-four hours before. The sight was a terrible one, such as made even them shudder. The horses and soldiers lay scattered here and there, just as they fell. The beasts of the forest had offered them no disturbance, probably because there were more inviting feasts elsewhere. But in the warm summer air the bloody, hacked faces were discolored and swollen beyond recognition. The hunters rode carefully along, and counted the whole thirteen, and when they found the overturned and wrecked ambulance and the dead horse a short distance beyond they were able to hit the right theory. It was in this carriage that young Chadmund had been riding when he was captured, and the scouts set out at once upon the trail of the Apache war-party.

It was all easy enough to follow the warriors, but Tom and Dick were hopelessly puzzled when they came up with the redskins, saw Lone Wolf and his brother warriors, and made the discovery that the boy was not with them. It was a most trying problem to them – the only solution being that they had grown impatient with the boy and put him to death; and yet, as the trail had been followed and narrowly watched, it seemed impossible that such a thing should have taken place without the pursuers finding it out before this. Dick Morris suggested that the captive, by some providential interference, had managed to give them the slip, but Tom could not believe it among the possibilities. If such were the case, there were no means of learning when or where it had been done, and the scouts were as completely cut off from pursuit of the boy as were the Apaches themselves.

In this dilemma there was little to do except to make a general hunt for him, keeping all the time within striking distance of the Apaches, as they did not think that the fugitive could have gotten very far from them. The hunters carefully secreted their animals, and tramped over the mountains and through ravines, gorges, and woods, until, on this eventful forenoon they discovered Lone Wolf ahead of them, acting as though he had detected something particularly gratifying. The shrewd scouts suspected the truth on the instant. The Apache was also searching for the lad, and, guided by a greater knowledge, had discovered him. And so he crouched down in the rocks, not knowing that two other figures shortly after crouched behind him. Then, after the story had been told, as the three moved off together, Dick Morris having picked up the rifle which Lone Wolf cast from him as the contest was about to open, Ned Chadmund gave him his version of that terrible attack and slaughter in Devil's Pass, and of what had followed since. When he came to explain the clever manner in which he dodged the Apaches, his listeners were delighted. Dick slapped him upon the back, and Tom insisted upon shaking hands again. It was a favorite way the old fellow had of expressing his overwhelming delight at anything he saw or heard.

"If you'll put yourself under our trainin'," he added, "we'll make a hunter of ye in the course of a dozen or fifteen years, more or less."

But Ned had no interest in hunting matters just then. He wanted to get out of that dangerous neighborhood, and to reach Fort Havens with as little delay as possible.

"How far is it?" he asked, as the trio moved along the trail.

"We can make it in two or three days, I think," said Tom. "Some parts of the way, though, is rather rough, and it may take us longer."

"You don't expect to walk it, do you?"

They assured him that they had no intention of doing any such thing. Their horses were secreted in a gorge about three miles distant, and as soon as they could be reached they would mount them and speed away for Fort Havens.

"And we'll do it, too, at a gait that'll beat any mustang that Lone Wolf has ever straddled," added Dick, exultingly. "When a chap goes into the Injun country, he must fetch the best hoss flesh he can steal."

"But I haven't any horse," said Ned, with a laugh. "What's to become of me when you're riding?"

Tom explained that there could be no difficulty about that. Such a trifling additional weight would not be suspected by either of the animals.

"Where do you suppose Lone Wolf is?" asked the boy, looking furtively around, unable to free himself of the belief that they were not through with him yet.

"He's gone back to his party; they've split since you left 'em. About thirty started yesterday forenoon for the Apache villages to the south'ard, and the tother twenty are in camp off here a mile or so."

As Tom spoke, he pointed to the west, in among the mountains, and in a direction at right angles to what he was pursuing himself.

"Our road twists round a little," he added, "and when we get to where we left the animals, we'll be 'bout as far away from the Apaches as we are now. What's better, there's some mighty rough travelin' between us and them, such as no hosses can git over."

"But Indians can, can't they?"

"I rather guess so. What's the matter, my boy?" asked Tom, looking down upon him as they picked along. "You're talkin' as if you was thinkin' 'bout Injuns all the time."

"That's what I've had to do for the last three or four days. Lone Wolf managed to get away from you, and where do you think he is? What do you think he means to do?"

As the boy asked this question, he glanced around in such a timid, apprehensive way, that his companions laughed. It was natural that the lad should have these misgivings, especially as it seemed to him that his friends were using no precautions at all to prevent a treacherous surprise upon the part of the Apaches. To relieve his fears, they convinced him that they were on the alert, and did not fail to note everything.

They expected, in the natural course of events, that Lone Wolf would make all haste back to camp, and take every means of revenging himself and securing possession of the boy again. Indeed, this was all he could do. He had no rifle with which to fire a stealthy shot at them, and it was necessary that he should first return to his warriors before striking a blow. To do all this required time sufficient to permit the three to reach the gorge, mount their animals, and get fairly under way before he and his warriors could possibly put in an appearance. Tom and Dick, therefore, could not be accused of undue recklessness in taking matters in such a leisurely fashion. They assured their young friend still further that they were on the eastern margin of the prairie, and, after starting with their mustangs, had a clear, open course before them.

It was somewhat past noon when they entered the ravine, which had already been described to Ned, and, while the latter remained to talk with Morris, Tom moved on further and down in a more secluded place, in quest of their mustangs, which had been left grazing upon the rich, succulent grass, beside a running stream of mountain water. All were in high spirits, and our hero was as buoyant and cheerful as the others, when they saw their friend returning empty-handed.

"What's up?" asked Dick.

"The Injuns have stole our mustangs!"

"Sure?"

"Yes – plenty of moccasin tracks – but not cussed sign of a single hoss," was the sour reply.

CHAPTER XXII.
ANXIOUS WAITING

This was astounding news, indeed, and for a few minutes the two veteran hunters were completely taken back. They had considered the place where their animals were picketed as being so secure that the contingency of losing them was not thought of until it came upon them with the suddenness mentioned.

"They didn't find them themselves," growled Tom, as if determined on finding consolation in that fact; "they've stumbled onto 'em accidental-like, and then rid off, as though they were smart enough to be reg'lar hoss-thieves."

"Have you seen the trail?" asked Dick.

"Yes."

"Whereaway does it lead?"

The hunter replied by pointing toward the northwest, among the hills and mountains in the wildest portion of the country.

A hurried consultation now took place between them, and it was resolved to recover the two mustangs. They counted it easy to secure a couple of the Indian ponies; but among them all were none which, in their own estimation, could compare with their own, and they were determined not to leave the country until they were regained. The most skillful Apache may succeed in hiding his own trail at times, but he cannot cover that of his horse so that the trained scout will fail to find it.

It was found that the mustangs had been ridden away without being accompanied by other animals. The number of moccasin tracks at a certain point showed that a party of warriors had accidentally detected the animals, each of which was mounted by a single Indian and ridden away, the warriors taking altogether a different direction. This simplified matters, and was not displeasing to Dick and Tom, for two of these active redskins could, as a matter of course, be circumvented with much more ease than could ten times that number.

Accompanied by Ned, the hunters led the way up out of the hollow, crossed as it was by the stream of icy cold and clear water and covered with the richest grass, and entered a more rocky section, where the horses must have experienced considerable difficulty in traveling, as numerous places showed where their hoofs had slipped upon the stones.

"We can beat them on that," said Dick, when they had trailed them for a short distance. "They can't be many hours ahead of us, and when we do catch up with 'em, Tom, we'll warm 'em; what do you say?"

Tom nodded his head to signify that he agreed with these sentiments exactly, and the trio pressed forward harder than ever.

There were many places in which the thieves had progressed with no little trouble, and their pursuers, unimpeded by the mustangs, were gaining rapidly upon them; but this by no means insured success. A hundred difficulties remained in the way, and the most that the two hunters could hope was that the two Apaches had no suspicion of being followed. If they believed themselves secure, it followed as a matter of course that they would take no precautions against any surprise from the rear. The hunters went forward at a rate which was exceedingly trying to Ned, but he bravely held up until something like a mile was passed, when Tom, who acted as a leader, suddenly paused.

"We must wait here till we make an observation," said he, in a low tone. "I take it that we aren't very far from the scamps, and we must look out and not spile the whole thing when we've got it all in shape."

For the entire distance they had been steadily advancing upon higher ground, and having now reached the culminating point, it was necessary to look ahead and learn whither they were going before making any rash venture into an entirely different section. While Dick and Ned, therefore, remained where they were, Tom stole cautiously forward for some distance further, until he reached a high, flat rock, the edge of which he approached on his hands and knees, and stealthily peered over.

Only a few seconds did he spend thus when he began retrograding, like a crab.

"I think I've hit the spot," he said in an undertone, as he rejoined his friends. "There's a sort of path which leads down into the lower country, and as that's the only way the hosses can travel, it follers that they must have gone that way. That 'ere place that I was speakin' of goes down into a spot a good deal like the one where we expected to find the animiles and didn't, and there's where I think we'll find 'em awaitin' for us."

"Do you see any sign?" inquired Dick.

"Not yet; they wouldn't be likely to kindle a camp fire at this time of day, and afore they jined the others. Come ahead, we must be mighty keerful now, when we're gettin' so close."

As before, Tom took the lead, and they advanced with the greatest caution. If the Apaches had any fear of being followed, they were very likely to detect the men stealing down upon them; but much reliance was placed upon the likelihood of their holding no such suspicion.

The afternoon was half gone when the locality pointed out by Hardynge was reached, and the three halted again. As soon as they had concealed themselves Tom continued his reconnaissance, making it with such care that he consumed fully a half hour before concluding it. When he reappeared, with the silence of a shadow, he whispered:

"They're there – both of 'em."

He explained that he had approached close enough to recognize his own animal as well as Dick's. He saw nothing more, not even an Indian, but it followed, of course, that they were near at hand. From this point forward, therefore, the presence of the lad could be nothing but an incumbrance, and it was agreed that he should stay where he was until the animals were recaptured, when he could ride away with one of them.

"Remember, the varmints are close onto you," said Tom, by way of caution; "and you must keep mighty shady. Don't go to crawling about, and trying to peep into what's none of your business."

The boy promised obedience, and the two left him. As near as he could judge he was within a hundred yards of the camp of the horse thieves, and there was no certainty that, if they discovered the approach of the hunters, they might take a course which would bring them back over the same path. So, to avoid any unpleasant discovery, he crept in beneath some dense shrubbery, where he felt secure against observation, and anxiously awaited the result.

Ned had not been in this place of concealment five minutes, when he was startled by a slight noise behind him, such as would be made by the cautious approach of some person or creature. He turned his head, but his view was too much obstructed by the vegetation around him. The slight disturbance continued until Ned's curiosity got the better of his judgment, and he stealthily parted the leaves with one hand sufficiently to permit him to see out.

As he dreaded, he detected an Indian warrior, whose actions indicated that he knew what was going on. He was stepping along as if fearful that the slight rustling would catch the ears of parties who were far beyond the range of hearing. Fortunately for Ned, at the moment he looked forth in this stealthy manner the Apache afforded only what may be termed a three-quarter view, having passed slightly beyond where he was hidden; and, as he continued to move in the same direction, nothing but his back was visible a few minutes afterward. But the lad saw enough to render him uneasy. At first glimpse he took the Indian to be Lone Wolf, but he caught sight of enough of his visage to make certain that it was another warrior altogether; but he was large, powerful, and very formidable looking, and Ned dreaded an encounter between him and one of the hunters.

Curiously enough, he carried no gun with him, and, as the boy still retained possession of Lone Wolf's, it seemed to young Chadmund that he could want no better opportunity of wiping out one of those pestilent redskins. With this purpose in view he cautiously shoved the end of the weapon through the bushes and aimed at the back of the warrior, who, at that moment, could not have been more than a dozen yards from him. There could be no mistaking a target so conspicuous and so close at hand; but when the aim was sure and Ned's finger was pressing the trigger, he restrained himself by the self-imposed question whether it was right to pick off a foe, savage though he was, in that fashion. He was well aware that no mercy would have been shown him had the position been reversed; still, he could not justify in his own mind an act that looked so much like murder.

"No," said he, when this inward conflict had continued a minute or so. "I s'pose Tom and Dick would laugh at me if they knew how I acted: but I don't believe father would like to have me fight that way. Anyhow, my conscience don't, so I won't."

CHAPTER XXIII.
THE DEATH SHOT

It took Ned about a minute to reach his merciful conclusion and to lower the hammer of his gun. This done, he looked out to see how the Indian was getting along. To his amazement nothing was seen of him. He had vanished as suddenly as if the ground had opened and swallowed him up. Wondering what it all could mean, the boy rose to his feet, and peered out, parting the bushes still more and advancing a little from his concealment. The ground was quite level, covered here and there with boulders and a scrubby undergrowth, but there was nothing to be seen of the warrior. During the second or two occupied in lowering the hammer of his rifle, the Apache had disappeared, flashing out, so to speak, into nothingness.

"That's mighty queer," reflected Ned, as he resumed his seat under the bushes. "I know those redskins are pretty lively, but I didn't think they could get up and leave as fast as that."

There was something in the manner of this thing which alarmed him. The Apache, when last seen, was advancing carefully in the direction taken by the scouts. Why this sudden diversion? What did it mean but that the redskin had made an important discovery, and what could that discovery be but that he was threatened by danger from the rear? Such being the case, it followed that the peril had been transferred from one to the other. Instead of the lad threatening the Indian it was vice versa.

"I bet he'll be back here," was the conclusion of our hero, as he once more raised the hammer of his gun. "He must have heard me when I moved the bushes, and he'll be trying some of his tricks upon me."

He concluded that if the Indian made him a visit it would be from another direction, and so he shifted his position somewhat, managing to face the other way, while he kept all his senses on the qui vive for the hostile visit which he was confident would not be long delayed. At the same time he had a strong hope that the scouts would return in time to prevent any such encounter as he pictured in his own mind, and which he thoroughly dreaded.

In his excited mental condition it was impossible to judge accurately of the passage of time, but it seemed to him that he had been in waiting fully fifteen minutes, yet not the slightest sound reached him from that direction. The lad remained in a state of suspense which was intensified by his fears of a flank movement upon the part of the Apache whom he had seen but a short time before.

"It must take them a long time to make a reconnaissance – "

He suddenly ceased, for his ear, more than usually alert, caught a slight but suspicious sound, and quick as a flash he turned his head. He was not an instant too soon, for there was the crouching figure of the Apache warrior, no more than a dozen feet distant, his gleaming knife clutched in his right hand, and his eyes fairly aflame with passion. He was not moving along inch by inch, but with that soft gliding motion, which was more like the approach of a serpent than of a person.

Ned still held his rifle with the hammer raised, and ready for just such an emergency. Partly expecting the visit, he was fully prepared. When he turned his head and encountered the gaze of the Indian, the latter gave utterance to a low gutteral exclamation, and started more rapidly toward him.

"If you must have it, there it is."

The flash from the muzzle of the rifle was almost in the face of the Apache, who, with a death-shriek horrible to hear, threw both arms above his head, and, with a spasmodic twitching of the limbs, breathed his last in a single breath.

Ned was scarcely less terrified than the redskin must have been at the first flash of the gun; and, forgetful of the warning of the scouts, he leaped out from beneath the bushes, and dashed away in the direction taken by his friends.

He had run but a rod or two when he suddenly found himself face to face with Tom Hardynge, who demanded, in a hurried undertone:

"What's up, now?"

"I've just shot an Indian."

"Did you wipe him out?"

"Oh, yes; oh, yes."

"Then what are you running away from him for? If you've wiped him out, he can't hurt you."

"But I don't want to stay near him," added the lad, who was in a distressing state of anxiety; "take me away."

"That's just what I'm going to do," replied the hunter, turning about and hurrying off. "Keep close to me and I will take care of you."

Instead of retracing their steps, they kept ahead, and a short distance further on made an abrupt turn and suddenly came upon Dick Morris, seated upon the back of his mustang, with Thundergust, as Tom called him, standing near, and a third one visible in the background.

"Whose is that?" asked the astonished boy.

"We fetched him for you. Come, bounce upon his back and let's be off."

The animal alluded to was a handsome black pony, spirited and fleet, with a valuable blanket strapped to its back, and a leathern bridle-rein. He showed some opposition to Ned's mounting him, but with the assistance of Tom he quieted down and showed as much docility as the others.

The hunters, in approaching the camp, used as much care and deliberation as if they were certain that there were a hundred of the fiercest warriors there. They speedily learned, however, that there were but the two Indian horse thieves, who, in bringing the plunder to that place, had returned to the spot where their own animals had been left previous to their starting out upon the raid.

The Apaches were entirely unsuspicious of any pursuit, and they were lolling upon the ground at such a distance from the mustangs, that the three were secured without much trouble. Dick Morris insisted upon sailing in and clearing out the two marauders; but Tom was equally strenuous in demanding that they should not be disturbed. He was certain there were other warriors near by, and any such attempt would complicate matters. Accordingly they stole away with their recaptured animals and the one which was not exactly recaptured, and as soon as a convenient spot was selected Hardynge turned back for the boy, encountering him on the way.

Since all three were mounted upon good beasts they made all haste possible to leave the section, which beyond all question was a most dangerous one in every sense.

The trio had several important advantages on their side. Although the Apaches were on every hand, and doubtless would make an attempt to revenge themselves upon the hunters, yet it was already growing dark, and between now and morning the Caucasians could accomplish a great deal. Furthermore, they were close to the prairie, reaching which, they had all the opportunity they could desire to leave their enemies behind. In a fair trial of speed, neither of the hunters had any misgivings as to the fleetness of their animals, even if it should become necessary to place the additional weight of the lad upon one. Still, the route was difficult, and in many places it seemed almost impossible to make their way along, the horses stumbling, and on one or two occasions the party came to a dead halt.

But Tom Hardynge had been there before, and insisted each time there was some way out of the difficulty without turning back. Dismounting from his animal he groped around for a few minutes in the dark, and on every occasion called out in an undertone that he had found the path. In this manner they kept it up for a couple of hours, when the route became much more easy to travel. Occasionally they paused and listened and looked, but nothing threatening was discovered. Quite a distance on the left, the twinkle of a camp fire was discerned, but it was so distant that it gave no concern. All remained quiet in the rear, though pursuit from that quarter was to be expected.

The three rode along in silence for something like half an hour longer, when Hardynge, who was slightly in advance, abruptly reined up his steed and said:

"We're through the mountains. There's the prairie afore us."