Czytaj książkę: «Through Apache Land», strona 10

CHAPTER XXVII.
A RUN FOR LIFE

A few minutes' ride at a swinging, easy, gallop brought Ned to the edge of the grove where the camp fire had first arrested his attention. As he reached the margin he threw himself from the back of the mustang, fastened the bridle-rein securely to a limb, and, with his rifle slung over his shoulder, strode forward toward the center. He was not yet in sight of the fire when it suddenly occurred to him that possibly he was mistaken. He checked himself and began moving very much as he did when approaching his mustang, and it was fortunate that he did so, for the next moment he discovered that he had committed a most serious mistake indeed. Instead of seeing the well-known figures of the hunters sitting by the camp fire and quietly smoking their pipes, he caught a glimpse of half a dozen warriors very similarly engaged.

Ned shuddered as he reflected how narrowly he escaped running into destruction, and then he crept forward until he could get a little better view. There they were, six Apache Indians lolling and lounging upon the grass. They had evidently returned from a long and wearisome ride, and were devoting the early portion of the day to rest, both for themselves and animals, which were picketed near at hand. The lad naturally wondered whether any of them belonged to Lone Wolf's band, and he crept nearer than was prudent in order to make certain.

"It may be that Lone Wolf himself is there," he reflected, drawn on by that strange fascination which often seizes a person at the proximity of some dreaded danger. "It would be queer if the chief had crossed my path again."

By and by, after moving along for some distance upon his hands and knees, he secured a favorable point, where, by waiting a few minutes, he was able to gain a view of all the faces. They were all strangers. He had never seen any of them before.

"That's good," he said to himself, as he began retrograding, "they won't be expecting me – "

At this juncture, one of the Indian horses, a short distance away, raised his head and whinnied. It was instantly responded to by the mustang which Ned had ridden to the place. The Apaches very naturally noticed this significant fact, and started to their feet to learn what it meant. Terribly alarmed at the unexpected mishap, Ned sprang up, not daring to trust the tardy, crab-like gait he was following, and, regardless of discovery, dashed away as hard as he could run in the direction of his steed. He could not mistake the true course, for the animal seemingly aware that something was wrong, kept up a continual whinnying, that guided him as unerringly as it did the Apaches who were hurrying after him. A few seconds and the boy stood beside the creature, which showed, by its excited manner, that he was as desirous as his master to leave the spot. He was tugging at the rein so lustily that it threatened to break every instant, and Ned trembled at the fear that he would be left alone.

The impatient, eager haste with which the rein was unfastened, the seemingly impossibility of getting the loosely fastened knot untied, the little obstructions that constantly obtruded themselves – these cannot be described nor imagined. It would have been unnatural in the highest degree had Ned not found himself "nervous." He was ready to yield to despair more than once, and what were really seconds were as many minutes to him. The Indians could be heard moving through the undergrowth, their progress cautious as it always is when they have reason to fear that enemies are close at hand.

It was this deliberation which gave Ned his only chance. The rein was unfastened at last, and, with a desperate effort he mounted the mustang, which came very near bounding from beneath him while in the act of springing upward, and, turning his head toward the southwest, the very direction he wished to follow, Chadmund struck his sides with his heels, gave a regular Indian shout and was off. The steed scarcely needed all this to incite him to his highest efforts. Stretching out his neck, he sped away like an arrow, while the young rider constantly urged him to still greater effort. But no urging was required. The fleet-footed courser was already going with the speed of the wind.

Scarcely had he gotten under way, however, when the crack! crack! of rifles was heard, and the singing of bullets around his ears told the fugitive at whom they were aimed. He instantly threw himself forward upon the neck of the mustang, and shouted again, in a voice that must have been heard by the redskins themselves:

"Go it, my horse! Don't let them catch us! We mustn't lose now!"

One or two more shots were heard, and then all was quiet again.

"We've got beyond their range," concluded the boy, "and there's no need of wasting their powder on us."

Still he remained with his head bent on the neck of his animal, the latter upon a dead run, until they had gone a considerable distance further. Then believing all peril past, he drew him down somewhat, for the gait was more trying to him than to the steed himself, and it was simply prudent to husband his strength, when there was no necessity of putting it forth.

For the first time since starting, Ned turned and surveyed the ground over which he had passed. The view was not a reassuring one by any means. Instead of seeing the Apaches standing in mute despair upon the margin of the grove, and staring in wonder at his flight, he saw instead the whole party mounted and in full pursuit. They were adopting what seemed to him a strange course. Instead of charging along in a body, they were separating and spreading out like a fan.

"I wonder what it is for," said the fugitive to himself, as he urged his horse to a renewal of the arrowy speed he had shown at the beginning.

When he came to reflect upon it more fully, he divined the cause. The Apaches had recognized in him a prize worth striving for, and had set about it in their usual cunning fashion. By separating in this manner, they could close in again whenever they chose, and at a time, too, when it might be out of the power of the fugitive to escape by means of the superior speed of his horse. If he should turn to the right or left, or to the rear, he would come in collision with some of them, whereas, if they remained in a compact body, and he should find his way shut in front, he might elude them by turning to either side.

Such was young Chadmund's solution of their actions, and such, undoubtedly, was the true one. He looked ahead; but all remained open and clear. Only far away in the very horizon could be seen that blue, misty outline of some mountain chain, seemingly hundreds of miles in advance.

"It can't be that that is the place," he mused, as he looked ahead; "that is too far to be reached before to-morrow, and between now and then I shall have plenty of chances to give them the slip."

But the mountains were to be crossed at some time or other, and those Apaches were likely to follow him with the persistency of bloodhounds. The mere fact that he had distanced them at the beginning, and obtained such a favorable start, was no evidence that he was to be relieved from further danger, even after the night should have come and gone. But Ned enjoyed to the full the thrilling pleasure of observing that he was steadily and rapidly drawing away from his pursuers. Every few minutes, when he looked back, he could see they were dropping further and further behind. His gain in this respect was clearly perceptible to himself, and when, at the end of an hour or more, he observed that the Apaches had ceased the effort to overhaul him, he could scarcely repress his exultation.

"They made a good selection!" he exclaimed, alluding to the steed which the hunters had taken from the Indians in the mountains. "They could not have done better."

Drawing his mustang down to a dead halt, he carefully scanned the prairie behind him. Only three of his pursuers were visible, and, if his eyes did not deceive him, they were turning back. A few minutes careful scrutiny assured him of the fact. He had outwitted the redskins again.

"Now, you may rest yourself, my pet," he said to his horse, fondly patting the neck of his steed.

"You have done nobly, and I feel like trusting you alone to graze."

As near as he could judge it was close upon noon, and his animal was in need of rest, although capable of continuing his arrowy flight until the sun should sink in the west. It was wise to indulge him all he could, and for the next two hours he was permitted to walk at a moderate gait. At the end of that time he headed toward a ravine, in which a few stunted trees were growing, and where he hoped to find grass and water. He did not forget the lesson he had learned, and before trusting himself in the inviting shade and coolness, he carefully circled about the place until assured that no peril lurked there, when he rode forward at the same leisurely pace.

He was yet a hundred yards distant, when his mustang abruptly paused of his own accord, pricking up his ears as if he scented danger.

Ned urged him, and he advanced a few steps, and then halted again, raising high his head and snuffing the air, accompanied at the same time by a peculiar stamp of the foot.

"There must be something wrong," thought the boy in alarm.

CHAPTER XXVIII.
A GREAT MISFORTUNE

Ned Chadmund was too wise to go contrary to the instincts of the mustang, which, at such a time knew more than did he of the dangers of the country. The boy, however, supposed that it was some wild animal, probably a grizzly bear, which alarmed the steed. He wondered however, that if such were the fact, why the brute did not give some more tangible evidence of his presence. He sat for a moment debating whether he should make an attempt to enter the wooded ravine from another direction. He had fixed upon this place as the one in which to spend a couple of hours or more, and as no similar resting-place was in sight, he was reluctant to start ahead again. But something whispered to him that the best thing he could do would be to leave without an instant's delay. That strange stillness resting upon those stunted trees and undergrowth had a meaning more significant than anything in the shape of a grizzly bear.

"Come, Pet, we're off again."

The mustang wheeled to one side, and bounded away with the old speed, which was more enjoyable to him than a moderate pace. At the very instant of doing so, a mounted Apache shot out from the far end of the ravine, and his horse bounded directly across the path of the young fugitive. The steed of the latter saw the game so well that he needed no direction, and he turned with such suddenness that Ned narrowly escaped being thrown off his back. Quick as he was he had scarcely time to change the direction he was pursuing, when the rider, to his dismay, observed a second Apache issue from the other end of the ravine, and thus, in a twinkling, as it may be said, he was placed between two fires.

It all took place with such marvelous suddenness that the lad was completely baffled and bewildered, and, not knowing what to do, wisely left the course of action to the mustang. At the same moment, he comprehended how it was that, while he assured himself that he had outwitted the Apaches, they had completely checkmated him. Their falling back and giving up the chase was simply a ruse to throw him off his guard. It had succeeded to perfection. While he was plodding along over the prairie, the Apaches had circled around, gone ahead of him, and, ensconcing themselves in the woods, had patiently waited for him to ride into their arms.

The sagacious mustang made another quick whirl, and shot to the right, aiming to pass directly between the two horsemen. Seeing this, they both did their best to head him off. At the best it was to be a narrow chance, and Ned again threw himself forward and clasped his arms about the neck of the faithful pony. He could not shut out the sight of his ferocious pursuers, and as the three neared each other with the speed of the whirlwind, he observed that each was loosely swinging several coils of rope about his head. He knew what that meant. Determined upon capturing him, they were about to call the lasso into requisition.

But they could not "noose" him when his head was thrown forward in this fashion, and resting closely against the soft mane of the mustang. He was certain of that, for there was nothing for the spinning coil to seize. And yet he saw distinctly the warrior who was nearest him whirling the thong in swifter and swifter circles above his head in a way that showed that he meant to fling it at something.

What could the target be?

Whiz – whiz! Out shot the loop like the dart of a rattlesnake, not at the head of the frightened lad, but at that of the mustang!

Ah! but the animal was intelligent and equal to the occasion. That round, clear eye saw what was coming, and he was ready.

The loop, guided with unerring precision, and thrown with great power, was scarcely over the ears of the creature, when he dropped his head like a flash. The coil, instead of passing over his nose, dropped like a tossed wreath upon the top of his head, slid along his neck, and over the crown and back of Ned Chadmund, who shivered as if he felt the squirming of a cobra along his spine. The mustang burst into a tremendous gait at this moment, and was drawing away from his pursuers so rapidly that the lasso dropped off his haunches and the flying pony was almost instantly beyond its reach.

But the second Apache was near at hand and threw his thong from a closer point, and with a venomous spitefulness that would not be evaded. He evidently knew the horse, and was determined upon securing him. The wonderful mustang, however, was equal to the occasion, and, with the same flash-like motion, his beautiful head dropped still lower than before, and the same useless sliding along his back was repeated.

His speed was now tremendous, and he drew away so rapidly from both horsemen that neither of them gained a second opportunity to try the lasso upon him. Ned did not seek to control the motions or direction of the noble steed. It knew better than did he what to do, and the boy only clung to him the tighter, and prayed to Heaven to guard them both from harm.

It was not to be expected that the Apaches would submit quietly to be baffled in this manner. Unable to capture either horse or rider, they still had their rifles, and did not hesitate to call them into requisition the moment it became apparent that no other recourse was at their command.

At the moment of firing perhaps fifty yards separated pursuer and pursued. The two guns were discharged so nearly simultaneously, that they might have well been mistaken for one. The escape of Ned was a narrow one. He felt one of the bullets pierce his clothing, and a sting in the hand told him that he had been slightly wounded. At the same moment he felt a peculiar twitch or quiver of the steed, which indicated that he also had been hit. It was like the jar of the smoothly-moving machinery when some slight obstruction gets into the works. Still there was no abatement of the tremendous speed of the magnificent little animal, and Ned concluded that the hurt was not a serious one. A minute later two more reports were heard, but they were faint and far away, and the bullets sped wide of the mark.

All danger was passed from that quarter, and once more Ned straightened up, and, looking about him, felt that the Indian mustang he bestrode had been the means of saving his life. But for him he would have been in the hands of the Apaches long since.

"I wonder whether there are Indians in every bush?" he said, as his eyes roamed over the prairie in search of some place of shelter. "They seem to be watching for me from every tree in the country. Well, my good horse, we shall have to keep on the go till dark comes, when we'll get some chance to creep off and hide."

Looking to the southward, a wooded section was to be seen, but Ned concluded to give all such places a wide berth for the present. He had missed recapture by too narrow a chance to risk it blindly again. A long distance to the northwest he discerned a range of hills of moderate elevation, and it occurred to him that there was a suitable place in which to spend the coming night. By journeying forward at this easy, swinging pace, he calculated upon reaching them about nightfall, and in the shelter which they offered he was confident of being able to hide away beyond the vision of the most vigilant Apache or Comanche.

"What has become of those fellows?" he abruptly asked himself, as his eye glanced hastily around in search of the hunters from whom he had now been separated the better portion of twenty-four hours. "I can't understand how we got so far apart. If they meant the whole thing as a joke, I think it is played out by this time."

He was a little nettled when he came to reflect that the parting was probably arranged by Dick and Tom for the purpose of giving him a lesson in prairie traveling and prairie life. Perhaps they believed that some amusement might be obtained in this way.

"If they think I can't get along without 'em, I'll show them their mistake," he said to himself. "There can't be many days' travel between me and Fort Havens, and so long as I've got such a horse – he knows better than they can how to keep me out of such scrapes – "

At this juncture he was startled by the action of the mustang. He was walking along, when he began staggering from side to side. Then he paused, as if to steady himself. A groan followed and he sank heavily to the ground, rolling upon his side so quickly that his rider narrowly escaped being crushed beneath him. And then, as the dismayed Ned sprang to his feet, he saw that his loved mustang was dead!

CHAPTER XXIX.
THE LONE CAMP FIRE

When the pursuing Apaches first fired their two shots, one of them slightly wounded the hand of young Chadmund, while the other, unsuspected by the lad, buried itself in the body of the mustang and inflicted a fatal wound. It was characteristic of the noble creature that his indomitable courage should remain to the last. He kept up his astonishing speed until his rider voluntarily checked him, and then his gait remained his natural one until nature succumbed and he dropped dead.

It would be hard to say which emotion was the most poignant in the breast of the young wanderer. He had learned to love the noble mustang during their brief companionship, and he had discovered, too, how impossible it was for him to make any substantial progress without a good horse to ride. He had lost the best steed he had ever bestrode, and was again thrown upon his own resources. It was natural and creditable to the lad that, as he looked at the fallen steed, and reflected how faithfully he had served him, his hands should seek his eyes. So they did, and he spent full ten minutes in a regular old-fashioned cry, such as he had not enjoyed since receiving a good trouncing at the hands of his parent.

When his grief had subsided somewhat, he bade the unconscious form good-bye, and with his rifle over his shoulder started ahead again. He could not bear even to remove the blanket which was strapped around the body of the mustang, and which was likely to be of great service to him in his wanderings.

It was already growing dark, when he aimed for the hills, and, as his eye swept over the the prairie, he saw no Indian or sign of danger. He was hopeful that for the time being, at least, he was free from molestation. His greatest trouble was, that he was ravenously hungry again, and he counted upon considerable difficulty in securing the wherewithal with which to satisfy his cravings. True, he had gun and ammunition, but the game which he wished to meet seemed to be, as a rule, reluctant to put itself within his reach.

After reaching the hills, the lad's next proceeding was to hunt up some suitable spot in which to pass the night. The air was so warm and sultry that he could have made no use of the blanket, had he possessed it. The place was full of stunted trees and undergrowth, with jagged, irregular masses of stone lying here and there, and constantly obtruding themselves in such a way that he received a number of severe bruises.

After tramping about for a short time he discovered that the hills were mainly in the form of a ridge, passing over the crest of which he went down the opposite slope and found himself among a mass of larger rocks, and in a still wilder section. There, while searching, it occurred to him that he might find a suitable retreat among the rocks. The sound of trickling water directed his steps a little to the left, where a tiny rivulet was found dripping down from the dark stones. After quenching his thirst he renewed his hunt.

Although he continued for some time, he was not as successful as he desired. Nothing in the shape of a regular cavern presented itself, and he finally nestled down beside one of the largest rocks which could be discovered, with the intention of sleeping until morning.

Ned thought it strange that he should feel so frightened. With the gathering of darkness he grew so nervous that all possibility of sleep was driven away. He examined his rifle several times – a curious mistrust taking possession of him – and then arose to his feet and listened.

All seemed as quiet as at creation's morn. There was a soothing influence in the faint sound of the dripping water, and an almost inaudible roar seemed to steal forth from the great prairie, such as is sometimes noted when in the vicinity of the becalmed ocean. Without any thought he thrust his hand into an inner pocket, when he felt a small package wrapped up in paper. Wondering what it could be, he drew it forth.

It was a box of matches!

Suddenly he remembered how they came there. On the day before leaving Santa Fe it occurred to him that he would be likely to need such a convenience, and he had carefully wrapped up a box and placed it in this out-of-the-way corner, where it had lain forgotten.

"That's lucky!" exclaimed the delighted lad, as he drew them out, recognizing them more by the touch than by sight. "Now I'll build a big fire, and fix things splendidly."

A fire was his great desideratum, and, had he believed it possible without great trouble and work, he would have kindled one before that. The capture of a new horse could have pleased him scarcely more than the discovery of the matches, and he set about reaping the advantage at once.

In such a place there was little difficulty in procuring fuel, and it took Ned but a short time to gather all he could possibly need; but, to guard against all contingencies, he continued collecting until he had a huge pile, made up of dead limbs, branches, and a number of green sticks thrown in. In a few minutes the flames were under way. He had kindled them against the face of a rock, and they burned with a cheery heartiness that did much to dispel the gloom which had begun settling over him. He seated himself as near the fire as he could without being made uncomfortable by the reflected heat, and then he assumed as easy a position as was possible in such a place.

"I wonder if anybody will see that?" he asked himself in a whisper, after it had continued burning some time.

Rising and reconnoitering the ground, he was gratified to learn that the light was better screened than he had reason to expect, considering the carelessness with which he had kindled it. The rock at the rear shut off all view from that direction, while the undergrowth was so matted and dense in front, that it seemed impossible for any one to see it from the prairie. Having made this survey, he returned to his position, feeling much easier in mind than before.

"Strange what has become of Dick and Tom," he muttered, following up this train of thought, as usual whenever he was left undisturbed for a few minutes. "Can it be that they have been killed by the Apaches? It might be, and yet I don't know how it could happen, either."

He was still meditating upon this ever-interesting query, when he was roused to a sense of his situation by the sound of something trampling through the bushes behind him.

"Indians!" he exclaimed, springing to his feet, rifle in hand, and casting his terrified glance in the direction from whence came the sound.

The words were yet in his mouth, when he felt that he had committed a blunder. No Indian would approach in that manner.

"It must be some animal," was his conclusion, as he stepped back, so as to bring himself as close to the fire as possible.

The next moment, a huge, dark, unwieldy body advanced from the gloom with a growl, and he saw an immense grizzly bear lumbering toward him. As quick as thought his rifle was at his shoulder, and he fired full at him, the distance being so short that he could not fail to hit the mark; but the wound, however severe it might have been, was not fatal, and did not deter bruin's advance in the least. Knowing that it would be sure death if he were once seized by the powerful monster, and aware of the dread which all animals have of fire, he dropped his gun and caught up a blazing brand, which he flung in the very face of the brute.

This was more than a bear, as courageous as was this giant grizzly, could stand, and he retreated with an awkward haste which was ridiculous. For the instant he was panic stricken, and continued falling back until he was invisible in the gloom. But he was not disposed to give up the contest by any means. Ned knew he would be back again, and fortified himself as well as possible by hugging his own camp fire, stooping down and holding himself ready to hurl another torch in the brute's face if he should persevere in his attack.

For several minutes all was quiet, and he began to hope that his fright was such that he would keep at a respectful distance. Such was not the case, however. A growl from another direction warned him that the brute was about to advance from that quarter. The lad peered out into the gloom, wondering whether the creature would eventually overcome his dread to such an extent as to press him to the wall. At any rate, he was not disposed to wait and hastily ran around to the other side of the blaze, by which maneuver it was interposed directly between him and his enemy.

"I wonder what he will do now?"