CHAPTER XXV.
THE RANCH
EPH BOZEMAN was so familiar with the Pecos River, from its source in the Rocky Mountains to its junction with the Rio Grande, that he conducted his friends to a fording place, where it was crossed without any of them wetting their feet. Riding up the opposite bank, they started across the comparatively level country, and by the middle of the afternoon struck a piece of grazing ground, which the hunters told him belonged to the ranch that the banker, Mr. Lord, had sent Strubell and Lattin to inspect.
The lands were so extensive that there were many portions from which not the first glimpse could be gained of the adobe structure that was erected nearly a half century before.
The little party pushed onward, and before the sun dipped below the horizon began the ascent of a moderate slope, from the top of which the coveted view could be obtained.
Since Rickard and his companion must have known of the pursuit, they would be on the lookout for the Texans, who were eager to befriend Nick Ribsam. It was decided not to allow them to know the cowboys had arrived in the vicinity before the following day. Strubell hinted that important events might be brought about between the setting and the rising of the sun.
Herbert, who began to feel a natural nervousness as the crisis approached, made several inquiries about Jim-John, the half-breed, and his companion, who had been left behind. Were they not likely to abandon the pack horses on discovering they had been flanked by the Texans, and hasten to the help of the couple that had been the first to cross over from Western Texas to New Mexico? But when Eph Bozeman agreed with Strubell and Lattin that there was nothing to be feared of that nature, Herbert bade good-by to his fears and fixed his attention on that which was in front.
Leaving their animals in the hollow, where they were safe against disturbance, the four climbed the elevation, the youth carrying one field glass, while Strubell had the other. The trapper had never used anything of the kind, and refused to do so now. He claimed that his eyes were as good as ever – and he was undoubtedly right – and he needed no artificial aid.
It looked like useless precaution, but on reaching the crest the party crouched low in order to render themselves less conspicuous.
“Thar she is!” said old Eph, extending his left hand to westward, while his right grasped his inseparable rifle; “and I’ll bet them new-fangled machines won’t show you anything more than I see this very minute.”
A mile away stood a broad, firm building, of a slatish yellow color as seen through the clear air. It was of adobe or sun-dried bricks, which, in the course of time, had become compact and hard enough to resist a bombardment of six-pounders better than many forts erected for that purpose.
The land immediately surrounding the structure was smooth and quite level, and covered with grass which wore a soft, beautiful tint, mellowed by the intervening distance. On the further side of the building were a few bushes, bearing a resemblance to the well known mesquite growth so common in many portions of the Southwest.
These were the main features of the scene when viewed by the unaided eye, but the helpful field glass added something.
Lying on his face, with his instrument pointed at the building, Herbert Watrous studied it closely. He offered the instrument to Lattin, but he, seeing how much the youth was interested, declined, and waited until Strubell was ready to pass the other to him.
The youth noted the broad door in the middle, with a small narrow window on either side of the upper story. The front was like that of an immense box, there being little slope to the roof. It was probably one of those mission houses built in the preceding century by the Jesuits, who devoted their lives to the conversion of the Indians, and that, having been abandoned by them as civilization advanced, had been taken possession of by those who secured a claim to the extensive tract which surrounded it.
Being questioned on this point, Bozeman as well as the Texans replied that such was undoubtedly the fact, for it was far different from the flimsy structures of wood used by ranchmen in other sections. There was a court inside, after the fashion of the older houses in Spanish countries, the building itself enclosing this open space, so that when manned by only a few, it was capable of withstanding the attack of a large force.
Bozeman stated further that the ranch was abandoned because of the Indians. While the men who made their homes there were safe so long as they stayed behind the wall, they could not afford to remain there. Hundreds of cattle had been killed or run off by the Apaches, whose chief hunting grounds are further west, until the ranchmen who essayed the business became discouraged and gave it up.
As a consequence, the place had been allowed to run to waste for years. During that time the grazing had improved, though a large part of the thousands of acres had paid tribute to other cattlemen. Besides this, the marauding Apaches, with which our government was having much trouble at that time, were mainly in the western part of the territory and in Arizona. This made the ranch so inviting that it was beginning to attract attention, and when Mr. Lord, in San Antonio, was offered it for what was really a small sum, he was warranted in sending a couple of trustworthy experts to examine and report upon it.
This was the destination toward which the Texans and Herbert Watrous had been riding through many long days, and that was now in sight. By a strange order of things, which at present he could not understand, the ranch was the objective point also of the two evil men who held Nick Ribsam as prisoner.
He had puzzled his brain many times to read the meaning of all this; but though he had formed his theory, he forced himself to be content to wait until the Texans or events themselves should reveal the truth.
The most careful scrutiny of the front and eastern side of the adobe building failed to show any sign of life. That, however, was no proof that it was not there. The horsemen might have ridden abreast through the broad door, closing it after them, placed their horses within the numerous quarters facing the court within, and then, climbing to the roof, watch the eastern horizon for a sign of their pursuers.
Fully ten minutes passed without a word being spoken by our friends, who were inspecting the building from the crest of the elevation. They were so intent on their work that nothing else was thought of.
Having studied every foot that was visible, Herbert went over it again several times, but with no better success than at first. He was gifted with fine eyesight, and, when he finally lowered his glass with a sigh, he glanced across at Strubell, who, having passed the other instrument to Lattin, was looking expectantly into the face of the youth.
“How did you make out?” he asked.
“I couldn’t find anything at all,” replied Herbert. “Did you?”
“Well, yes; Rickard, Slidham, and Nick are there, but a bigger surprise awaits them than us.”
“What do you mean?”
“Point your glass over to the left,” replied the Texan, “and I think you will see something that will surprise you.”
CHAPTER XXVI.
BELL RICKARD’S SCHEME
HERBERT WATROUS turned his field glass to the left, and, for the first time since he caught sight of the adobe structure, gave attention to another part of his field of vision.
The cause of the Texan’s remark was apparent. A half mile beyond the building was a party of horsemen, numbering perhaps a dozen. They were grouped together and apparently holding a discussion over some matter in which all must have been interested, since they kept in such close order.
The youth had become accustomed to seeing Indians since leaving San Antonio, and needed no one to tell him that these people belonged to that race. The distance was too far for them to show distinctly through the instrument, but enough was seen to settle the point.
“What tribe are they?” he asked, addressing all his companions. Strubell was studying them without the glass, while Lattin had turned his gaze thither, and Eph was lying on his face, his brows wrinkled, his gaze concentrated on the group. It was he who answered:
“‘Paches, every one of them.”
“Are they not off their hunting grounds?” asked Herbert.
“Not ‘cordin’ to thar ideas, for every ‘Pache believes that the whole North American continent belongs to his people, which is about what every redskin thinks. Howsumever, they ginerally do thar killin’ and deviltry further over in Arizona, but them’s ‘Paches sure as you’re born.”
“They seem to be as much interested in the building as we are.”
“They’ve seen Rickard and Slidham and the younker go in thar, and they’re tryin’ to figure out what it means. You see things are in a quar’ shape in these parts.”
While the party lay on the crest of the elevation, looking at the building and the council of warriors beyond, Strubell for the first time showed a desire to make known to Herbert Watrous the things that had puzzled him. The strange enterprise had now reached a point where he was willing to talk. He had consulted with Lattin and Eph until there was an agreement all round, and no cause for further secrecy existed. In fact, there had never been any real cause for it at all.
Without quoting the Texan’s words, it may be said that in the minds of the party it was clear that Belden Rickard, the noted horse thief, with his companion Harman Slidham, was carrying out a scheme to secure a ransom for the restoration of Nick Ribsam to his friends.
It will be remembered that Herbert had held this belief more than once, but he saw so many difficulties in the way that he was awaiting another explanation. He now asked Strubell to clear up the points that perplexed him, and he did, so far as he could.
He wished to learn why, if Rickard had formed the plan for the capture of Nick, with the idea of restoring him to freedom on the payment of a sum of money, he had ridden hundreds of miles to reach the point of conference, when it might as well have been held in Texas, and within sight of the very ridge where Nick fell into the power of his enemies. It was this phase of the question that had troubled Herbert greatly and led him to fear the ruffian intended to take the life of his friend.
Strubell replied that during the conversation with Rickard, whom he had known for years, he picked up more than one item of news which surprised him. One was that while making his long rides through the Southwest, he and his companions, when hard pressed, were accustomed, at times, to take refuge in the old mansion house on the ranch which Mr. Lord proposed buying. This had been abandoned, as I have already stated, for years; but in the hospitable West, where every person’s doors are open, no one would have hesitated to enter the adobe structure, whenever cause existed for doing so.
Rickard saw signs of others having been there, though he did not believe the Indians ever passed through the broad doors into the courtyard beyond. Had there been a party of settlers or white men within they would have been eager to do so, but while it was empty the incitement was lacking.
Rickard and his gang were in a peculiar situation. The Texans had reason to believe that he had fully twenty desperate associates in pushing his unlawful business over an immense extent of territory, though it was rare that they all came together. They were not only in danger from Indians, as were all who ventured into that section, but they were outlawed by their own race. It was dangerous for any member of the gang to trust himself within reach of the law, while the rough bordermen would have strung up every one without hesitation could they have laid hands on them.
Leading this wild, lawless life, it was necessary for these ruffians to have retreats, where they could feel comparatively safe. A number of such were at command. Some were deep in the mountains, and one was the abandoned ranch. Standing in the middle of a vast and comparatively level plain this had many advantages over the others, while it was also deficient in more than one respect.
Among the secret compartments in the old mission house was a store-room for provisions, where Rickard saw that enough grain was kept to last him and several companions for weeks. There was a spring of water that could not be shut off, so that a small garrison could stand an indefinite siege from a large number. In this place, the great horse thief and his followers, whether few or many, might feel safe.
Had Rickard, after securing the custody of Nick Ribsam, proposed his plan of ransom, he would have been in an awkward situation. Any messenger that he might send forward could be made prisoner by the Texans and held as a hostage. The little party itself was liable to be assailed and destroyed, for no mercy would have been showed at such a time, though a certain rude chivalry prevailed in other respects.
In what way would the situation be improved if Rickard took his prisoner to the adobe building? This was the question which Herbert asked and the answer to which was simple.
Behind the walls of the massive structure it was easy for Rickard to communicate by word of mouth without any risk to himself. He need not send out a messenger to be captured, but could make known his terms to Nick’s friends, who would be at liberty to accept or reject them.
It was the strong suspicion that such was the purpose of the ruffians that led the Texans to make every effort to overtake them before they reached their refuge. Could they have brought Rickard and his companion to bay they would have forced their own terms upon him.
But the criminal was too cunning thus to be caught. Leaving the pack horses for Jim-John and Brindage to look after, he pushed on with such vigor that, as we have shown, the refuge was attained in spite of all the pursuers could do to prevent it.
Rickard was an honest fellow in his early days and had done scouting duty in the company of Arden Strubell. It was this fact that led the latter to show him a certain consideration when he was made prisoner by Nick Ribsam, though there might have been other situations in which they would have flown at each other with irrestrainable wrath.
It was Strubell who was the innocent cause of the plight of Nick Ribsam. While he and Rickard were talking of nothing in particular, by the camp fire, hundreds of miles away, the cowboy indulged in a little quiet boasting about the two youths who were his companions. He represented them as sons of wealthy parents, who allowed them to do as they chose, and they were now enjoying a vacation after their own hearts.
It was this statement that gave Rickard his idea before he left camp. He hated the sturdy Nick intensely enough to shoot him down at the first opportunity, but to do that would intensify the anger against him, while it could do him no good, except so far as the satisfying of his revenge went; but if he took the boy to one of his safe retreats, he might force a good round sum from his rich parents to secure his safety.
The scheme savored strongly of the style of doing business in classic Greece, but you need not be told that it has been carried to a successful issue more than once within these glorious United States of America.
CHAPTER XXVII.
WATCHING AND WAITING
THE presence of the Apaches within a short distance of the building brought about a complication for which the rescue party were as unprepared as were the whites within the structure. But for them, one of Nick’s friends would have ridden forward and opened a conversation with Rickard, by which the terms of the exchange could have been effected with little delay. Herbert told Strubell that unless the criminal demanded an exorbitant price, it should be accepted. Although he had only a small amount of funds with him, he would give him a draft that would be honored without question by Mr. Lord in San Antonio; and if Rickard kept his part of the agreement, it would be respected by Herbert and his companions, who were governed by a sense of honor that would prevent any advantage being taken of circumstances that must of necessity be in their favor.
But if one of the party advanced to open communication, he would be observed by the watchful Apaches before a safe point was reached. Since Rickard must know of the presence of the red men, it was likely he would admit such an applicant the moment he saw his danger, but a sudden dash of the warriors might shut him out from the refuge.
The man would not allow the whole party to enter, inasmuch as that would disarrange his own plans, though he was not apt to object to the visit of one of their number. As yet, he could not have learned that the white men were behind the elevation of the prairie.
The simple question, therefore, was as to how Strubell and his companions could negotiate with Rickard without betraying themselves to the Apaches. Furthermore, it must not be forgotten that the situation of the three men and boy was extremely dangerous. They were on the open prairie, and liable to be discovered by the red men, even with the exercise of the extremest care on their own part. Such discovery was almost certain to be followed by a desperate fight, with the chances overwhelmingly against our friends.
This will be conceded when it is remembered that Geronimo and his fierce miscreants, who defied our forces in the Southwest so long, never numbered more than a fractional part of the white soldiers. Those Apaches are born fighters, and the most dangerous Indians that ever trod the American continent. A dozen of them, well mounted, would make short work of three white men and one boy, no matter how bravely they might defend themselves. Eph Bozeman and the Texan friends were sure to do well and would tumble more than one of their assailants from the saddle, but their own ultimate destruction was inevitable.
The situation being as I have shown, it will be seen that the presence of the Apaches immeasurably increased the peril. It was agreed that no movement should be made until nightfall, up to which time the main object would be to avoid discovery by the swarthy raiders.
This was so important that Strubell and Lattin made their way back to where the ponies were grazing, and forced all of them to lie down. The four were so well trained that they readily obeyed. They would keep that posture, though suffering from hunger, until ordered to rise. There was no water within reach, a deprivation which the men felt as much as did the animals.
It should be stated that the words of Strubell about the plans of Bell Rickard gave Herbert a reasonable explanation of the course of Nick Ribsam, which, until then, was as much of a puzzle as the conduct of his captors. Doubtless he had been convinced from the words and action of his party that his life was not in immediate danger, and he therefore refrained from increasing their enmity by any attempt at escape. Had a good chance presented, he would have been quick to take it, but he was carefully watched and he bided his time.
Returning from the animals, the Texans lay down on the grass beside Herbert and Bozeman, and resumed watching the Apaches, with an occasional study of the front of the building for signs of the party behind the walls.
The Indians remained grouped in close order for nearly half an hour. Then one of their number galloped off for a hundred yards or more, circled about, and returned. Shortly after, a couple did the same thing.
“Do you know what that means?” asked Eph of Herbert.
“I have no idea.”
“It doesn’t mean nothin’; it’s hard for a redskin to set still, though he can do it for hours at a stretch when he sees a chance of lifting any ha’r. Them chaps, and their ponies too, get tired of stayin’ in one spot, so they take a little spurt like that to set thar blood goin’. Thar they go again!”
The party broke apart, and soon the whole company were circling about and back and forth like a lot of equestrians in a circus ring. They doubled in and out, in the most bewildering fashion, but the men, who devoted themselves to watching them closely, agreed that there were about a dozen, as at first supposed.
These exhibitions of horsemanship were of special interest to the party lying down behind the elevation, for the Apaches needed not to extend their circling far to pass behind the ridge, when they would be sure to discover them. And just about that time, as Strubell expressed it, the band would begin to play.
The red men rode so far to the eastward more than once that this discovery seemed inevitable. It caused much anxiety, and our friends withdrew their attention for a time from the building and kept it upon their more active enemies.
The situation was peculiarly trying to Herbert Watrous, who understood his danger in case of an attack from the Apaches. He would be perilously placed because of his inexperience. In fact, it struck him more than once that Nick had much the better of it as compared with him.
The one fortunate thing was that the afternoon was near to its close, and the night must lessen the danger, so far as the Apaches were concerned.
The latter were acting out their ferocious nature. When they knew the adobe building was empty, it possessed no attraction to them. They passed it by without so much as firing a shot at its gray walls, but, when they saw three horsemen ride through the broad entrance, they halted, and began laying their plans for destroying them. That’s Apache nature, but perhaps, after all, it is not so different to the nature of the white man.
It was decided by the Texans that Eph Bozeman should ride forward to meet Bell Rickard. His relations with the horse thieves insured against the distrust they were likely to feel in the case of either of the others. He would doubtless be admitted without misgiving, and once within the building, he could complete arrangements for the ransom of Nick Ribsam.
It was Eph’s choice to go on foot, though in the event of detection by the Apaches his case was likely to be hopeless, whereas, if he were mounted on his fleet plug, he might dash off and escape.
That which decided the old trapper was the greater liability of being discovered if he rode a horse. The Apaches were certain to manœuvre about the building in the darkness, searching for a way of making a stealthy inroad on the defenders, and it was too much to expect them to fail to see a horseman seeking entrance through the regular avenue. Instead of walking erect, he would creep on his hands and knees, from the moment he reached the rim of the danger circle until he knocked at the door. By this course, though it involved much delay, he could use his marvellous expertness, trained to the highest point by a half century among the wilds of the Great West.
Old Eph had done the same thing before. He and Kit Carson once crept a full mile, over the cactus plains in Southern California, to elude a band of Navajoes that had followed them for several days and nights, and the injuries received during that ordeal were felt for months afterward.
He was glad of the chance to repeat the difficult feat, for he had lived an adventurous life too long to lose his liking for it, now that he was growing old. Besides, such persons are unwilling to admit any failure of their powers until the proof is forced upon them so impressively that it is impossible to deceive themselves.