Books: The Pony Rider Boys in New Mexico
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Frank Gee Patchin >> The Pony Rider Boys in New Mexico
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Juan shrugged his shoulders, indicating that he did not.
"What is Mr. Lasar's business?"
Again the guide answered with a shrug. He seemed disinclined to
discuss the man in whom Tad Butler was so much interested. Up to that
time the lad had been too fully occupied with other matters to think
of the conversation he and Stacy had overheard on the Atlantic and
Pacific train. Now it came back to him with full force.
"Know anybody by the name of Marquand in this country?" he asked,
taking another tack.
Juan said he did not, and then Tad gave up his questioning.
"I was asking Juan about the two men who sat ahead of us in the train
yesterday," he explained to Chunky, as the fat boy joined them.
"Wha'd he say?"
"One is named Lasar, but he did not know the other one. I can't help
believing that those fellows were plotting to do some one a great
injury."
"So do I," agreed Chunky. "I guess we had better not say anything
about it to the others, but we'll try to find out who this man Lasar
is, and who Mr. Marquand is. Then we'll decide what to do next."
Their further conversation was interrupted by the voice of the
Professor, announcing that they would halt for their noonday meal. All
other thoughts left the mind of Stacy Brown when the question of food
was raised. He quickly slipped from his pony, running back to hurry
the burros along so as to hasten the meal for which he was yearning.
Only one burro was unpacked, as it was the intention of the outfit to
push on soon after finishing their lunch.
While the guide, under Ned's direction, was making it ready, Tad and
Chunky strolled off to climb a high rock that they had seen in the
vicinity and which, they thought, might give them a good view of the
plains to the southwest on the other side of the range.
They had promised to be back in half an hour, but circumstances arose
that caused them to delay their return considerably.
After threshing through the bushes, over sharp rocks and through
miniature canyons, they gained at last the object of their quest. The
distance had been further than they had imagined.
"We'll have to make a short trip of it up to the top and back," said
Tad. "It has taken us almost all our time to get here. But we'll have
a look, anyway."
They soon gained the top of the rock, which stood some twenty feet
higher than the crest of the mountain on which it rested.
"Isn't this great?" exclaimed Tad.
"Might think we were in the Rockies."
"Or the Ozarks."
"I hope we don't have as much trouble here as we did in that range.
Our guide is not much better than the Shawnee we had for a time on
that trip. I can't see the foothills, but the plain on beyond is
pretty clear."
"Hope we don't have to chase all over the desert for water. I--"
Tad grasped his companion by the sleeve and jerked him violently to
the rock.
"What's up? What's the matter with you?" protested Stacy.
"Keep still, some one's coming."
The lad's keen ears had caught a sound which Stacy had entirely failed
to hear. It was the sound of horses making their way through the
bushes. There were several in the party, Tad could tell by the sounds,
and having in mind the man Lasar, he thought he might perhaps learn
something of advantage by remaining quietly on the top of the rock.
All this he explained in a few brief words to his companion. Then both
boys crouched low, peering over the cliff, having first removed their
sombreros.
What they saw, a few moments later, surprised them very much indeed.
The horsemen in single file suddenly appeared out of a draw to the
east and headed for the rock where the lads were in hiding.
"Look! Look!" exclaimed Tad in a low, suppressed voice.
"I-n-d-i-a-n-s!" breathed Chunky.
They seemed to rise right up out of the ground, as one by one they
emerged from the draw to the more level rocks that lay about the
hiding place of the Pony Rider Boys.
"I wonder who they are?" questioned Tad.
"They look savage. I wonder if they'd hurt us, Tad?"
"I don't know. I do know, though, that I wouldn't trust those ugly
faces one second. I thought the Blackfeet were savage, but they're not
to be compared with these redskins."
A full dozen of them had, by this time, come into view. They sat
huddled on their ponies, their painted faces just appearing above the
gayly colored blankets in which they were enveloped.
"They must be cold," muttered Chunky. "Shouldn't think they'd need bed
clothes around them this time of the year."
"Not so loud, Chunky," warned Tad.
"Know what they are, Tad?"
"I wouldn't say positively, but somehow they look to me like Apaches."
Tad's surmise was correct. The twelve warriors were members of the
savage band that had in past years caused the Government so much
trouble and bloodshed.
"They're off their reservation, if they are Apaches," whispered the
lad.
"What does that indicate, Tad?"
"I don't know. They may be on the warpath; then, again, they may be
down here after game. I'm not sure even, if there is any game here.
We'll lie still until they get by us. That's the best plan; don't you
think so?"
"Yes."
"Lie perfectly still, Chunky. The little bushes in front of us will
screen us, providing we don't move about. Indians have quick eyes,
though they do look as if they were half asleep."
"They're getting off their horses, Tad. What does that mean?"
"I don't know."
Tad peered through the bushes, noting every move that the redskins
made. At first he thought they had discovered him and were about to
surround the rock and take him prisoner. But he soon saw that such was
not their intention. Tethering their ponies, the Indians cast their
blankets on the ground, after having first picked out a suitable
place.
"They're making camp," whispered Tad.
One after another of the savages took out his pipe, and soon the odor
from burning tobacco was wafted to the nostrils of the hidden Pony
Rider Boys.
"Guess they're going to get some dinner," decided Stacy, observing
that the strangers were gathering brush.
This was the case. The ponies had been staked where they could browse
on the green leaves, and now their masters were about to satisfy their
own appetites.
Tad groaned.
"What is it?" questioned Stacy apprehensively.
"They will be here half of the day at least. I know a little about
Indians, having been captured by them once. The difference is that my
Indians were in a hurry to get somewhere. These fellows seem to have
all the time in the world. They're waiting-- killing time for some
reason. You'll see, after they finish their dinner, that they will
smoke some more, then lie down for a catnap."
"And-- and what'll we be doing?"
"We'll be hiding on the top of this rock, Chunky."
"Wish I had my rifle."
"Lucky for both of us that you haven't."
The lads had been talking in whispers, but the words fairly froze in
their mouths, when, upon glancing down they saw the eyes of a savage
fixed upon them.
"On your life, don't move a muscle, Chunky," whispered Tad, as soon as
he had recovered his wits.
Tad was not sure that the Indian saw them, yet there could be no doubt
that the savage eyes were burning into their very own.
Soon, however, the Indian dropped his glances to his pipe bowl and the
boys breathed a sigh of relief.
"Don't move yet, Chunky," directed Tad.
It was a wise command, for almost instantly the Indian glanced in
their direction again, and, as if satisfied, emptied his pipe and
stretched out on his blanket. The two lads breathed sighs of relief.
"Did he see us, do you think, Tad?"
"No. At first he thought he saw something up here, but he changed his
mind after a little, as you observed."
By this time the redskins were cooking their midday meal, and the odor
nearly drove Stacy frantic. It made him realize how hungry he was. He
pulled a leaf from a bush and began chewing it in hopes of wearing off
the keen edge of his appetite.
"How long we got to stay here?" he demanded. "I've a good notion to
get up and walk back to camp. They don't dare hurt us."
"Lie still!" commanded his companion sternly. "I have a plan that we
may be able to put into operation. We can't do it now, though."
The lads waited, Tad almost with the patience of an Indian, Chunky ill
at ease and restless.
"Can't you lie still? What ails you?"
"My stomach's fighting my appetite. Hear 'em growl at each other?"
"S-h-h-h."
"I don't care. I'd 'bout as soon be scalped as to starve to death."
The braves had by now filled their stomachs, gulping their food down
without the formality of chewing it at all. Stacy's amazement was
partly mixed with admiration as he observed the food disappear with
such rapidity.
Now the braves had begun puffing at their pipes. After a time, one by
one laid down his smoking bowl and stretched himself out for a nap,
just as Tad had said they would. The savages were spread out so that
they had a very good view of three sides of the rock on which the two
lads were perched, but the fourth side was hidden from them. Tad
decided that, as the Indians showed no intention of moving, they were
going to remain where they were until night.
"I want you to follow me, Chunky," Butler said, determined to try his
plan. "You will have to move absolutely without a sound. Look before
you put down foot or hand. Be sure where you place them. We'll wait a
few minutes until they're sound asleep."
"What you going to do-- sneak?"
"Try to get back to camp. The others will be coming along looking for
us pretty soon, if we don't get away. The Indians might resent being
disturbed, and perhaps make trouble."
"Tell me when you're ready, then."
Some minutes had elapsed and the lads could plainly hear the snores of
their besiegers.
"Now!" whispered Tad.
At the same time he began crawling toward the edge of the rock at
their rear. Stacy was close upon his heels.
The side which the boys were to descend was much more precipitous than
the one they had come up by, but offered no very great difficulties
for two nimble boys. Proceeding with infinite caution, they gained the
ground without a mishap.
"We'll walk straight on in this direction, until we get out of sight;
then we can turn to the left and hurry to the camp."
Stacy nodded. As he did so his eyes were off the ground for a few
seconds. Those few seconds proved his undoing.
The lad stepped on a stone that gave way under him, turning his ankle
almost upon its side.
"Ouch!" yelled Chunky.
"Now you've done it," snapped Tad. "We'll have the whole pack of them
down on us. Can you walk?"
"I-- I don't know. I'll try."
"Take hold of my hand. You've got to run."
The redskins were on their feet in an instant. A few bounds carried
them around the rock whence the exclamation had come. By this time Tad
had dragged his companion into the bushes but not quickly enough to
elude the keen eyes of the savages.
The Indians uttered a short, sharp cry, then aimed their rifles at the
figures of the two fleeing Pony Rider Boys.
Tad saw the movement. He threw himself prone upon the ground, jerking
Chunky down beside him.
They were screened from the eyes of the enemy, for the moment.
"Crawl! Crawl!" commanded Tad.
On hands and feet the boys began running rapidly over the ground, on
down into a narrow gulch. If they could gain the opposite side they
would be safe, as it was unlikely that the Indians would follow them
there. To do so, the boys were obliged to cross an open space. They
had just reached it, when their pursuers appeared behind them. Once
more the Indians raised their rifles, their fingers exerting a gentle
pressure on the triggers.
CHAPTER IV
ON THE TRAIL OF JUAN
"Look out! They're going to shoot!" cried Tad.
The lads quickly rolled in opposite directions.
"Hallo-o, Tad!"
The call was in the stentorian voice of Professor Zepplin, to which
Ned Rector added a shout of his own.
Fearing that some ill had befallen Tad and Stacy, the others had
started out after them. Following them came Walter and the lazy
Mexican.
"We're down here! Look out for the Indians!" warned Tad in a loud
voice.
"You're crazy!" jeered Ned. "Come out of that. What ails you fellows?
The dinner's stone cold and Professor Zepplin is all in the stew."
Tad scrambled to his feet, with a quick glance at the top of the
ridge, where, but a moment before, half a dozen rifles had been
leveled at Chunky and himself.
Not an Indian was in sight. Tad was amazed. He could not understand
it. Grabbing Stacy by an arm he hurried him up the other side of the
gulch, where they quickly joined their companions.
"What does this mean?" demanded the Professor.
"Hurry! We must get out of this. It's Indians!"
"They-- they wanted to scalp us," interjected Stacy.
"But you runned away, eh? Brave man!" chuckled Ned.
"Indians! There are no Indians here.
"I'll tell you about it when we get to camp. They were just about to
shoot at us when you appeared up here."
"'Pache bad Injun," vouchsafed Juan.
"Were those Apaches?" questioned Tad.
The guide shrugged his shoulders.
"I was sure they were, though I do not think I ever saw an Apache
before. They don't live about here, do they, Juan?"
"'Pache off reservation. Him go dance. Firewater! Ugh!" making a
motion as if scalping himself.
"I'm hungry," called Stacy.
"Yes; so am I," added Tad. "But I think we had better not wait to eat.
We can take a bite in the saddle while we are moving."
Stacy protested loudly at this, but Tad's judgment prevailed with the
Professor, after the boys had related their experience in detail. All
hands began at once to pack up the few belongings that had been taken
from the burro, and once more they started on their way, moving
somewhat more rapidly than had been the case in the early part of the
day.
"I don't suppose there will be much use in our hurrying, Professor,"
said the lad, after they had been going a short time. "I know enough
about Indians to be sure those fellows will follow us until they
satisfy themselves who and what we are. They are up to some mischief,
and they thought we were spying on them. Otherwise, I do not believe
they would have tried to shoot us. Don't know as you could blame them
much."
"I am inclined to agree with you, Master Tad. It will be good policy
not to pay any attention to them if we discover any of them. Just go
right along about our business as if we didn't see them at all."
"And you're not likely to," grinned Tad. "Where did you say they were
going, Juan?"
"'Pache, go dance."
"He means they're bound for a pow-wow somewhere. That explains it,"
nodded the lad.
The rest of the day passed without incident. Not a sign of the Indians
did the boys see. As a matter of fact, the roving redskins were as
anxious to keep out of the sight of the Pony Riders as the boys were
to have them do so.
The party enjoyed the trip over the mountains immensely; and, when, a
few days later, they made camp in the foothills on the southern side
of the Zuni range, the boys declared that they had never had a better
time.
Professor Zepplin decided that they would remain in that camp for a
couple of days, as be desired to make some scientific investigations
and collect geological specimens. This suited the rest of the party,
who were free to make as many side trips as they wished, into mountain
fastnesses or over the plains to the south of them.
Early in the day the guide asked permission to go away for an hour or
so. They noticed that he had been uneasy, apparently anxious to get
away for some reason unknown to them.
"He's got something up his sleeve," decided Tad, eyeing Juan narrowly.
"You may go, but we shall expect you back in time for the noon meal,"
the Professor told him.
"Give me money," requested the guide.
"Certainly. Let me see, you have worked a week. I gave you five
dollars when we started out. You were to have ten dollars a week while
you were with us. That leaves five dollars due you," announced the
Professor.
"Me work week. Me want ten dollars."
"But, my man, I've already paid you five dollars, which pays you for
half of the week. Here is the five dollars for the other half. That's
all I owe you. Do you understand?"
"Si seņor. But Juan work one week," protested the guide.
"Let me show him," interrupted Tad. He drew ten marks in the sand with
a stick, separating them into two groups of five. "Here are ten marks,
Juan. We'll call them ten dollars. Understand?"
"Si."
"Well, here are the first five marks in the dirt that the Professor
paid you. How many does that leave?"
"Five," gleamed the white teeth.
"Right. Go to the head of the class," interrupted Stacy.
"Chunky, you keep out of this. You'll mix him up."
"Guess somebody's mixed up already," retorted the fat boy.
"Five is right," continued Tad. Five dollars is what we owe you. Is
that clear now?"
"Si, seņor. But I work one week. Juan earn ten dollar--"
"I'll tell you what to do," interjected Ned. "Start all over again.
You begin work to-day; Juan, and we'll pay you ten dollars for every
week from now on. You haven't worked for us before to-day, you know."
The lads laughed heartily, but Juan merely showed his teeth,
protesting that he had earned ten dollars.
"Here," said Tad, thrusting a five dollar bill at him. "You take this.
It's all we owe you. If you see any of your friends, you ask them how
much we owe you. They'll tell you the Professor is right."
Juan took the money greedily, still protesting that they owed him ten
dollars, because he had worked a week. Mounting his burro, he rode
away; at once falling into the marvelous speed that he had shown them
on the first day out.
The lads shouted with laughter as they saw burro and rider disappear
among the foothills, both running for all they were worth, Juan
uttering his shrill "yi-yi's," as he pedaled the ground.
That was the last they saw of the Mexican guide that day. The rest of
the day was employed in games, trick riding, rope throwing and the
like. Stacy found some horned frogs, which were of considerable
interest to the boys. Chunky made the discovery that the frogs liked
to have their backs scratched with a stick, and the frogs of the
foothills probably never spent such a happy day in all their lives as
Chunky and his stick provided for them that afternoon.
Late in the day, it dawned upon the boys that Juan was still absent.
They consulted with the Professor about this, upon his return from a
collecting trip along the foot of the mountains. But the Professor was
sure Juan would be in in time for supper.
Such was not the case, however. After the meal had been finished Tad
announced his intention of riding off in the direction Juan had gone,
to see if the guide could not be found.
"I'll go with you," announced Stacy.
"All right; come along," said Tad, tightening his saddle girths.
"We'll have a fine gallop."
"Be careful that you do not get lost, boys," warned the Professor.
"Can't get lost. All we have to do is to follow the foothills. We
shall probably find Juan and his burro sound asleep on an ant-hill
somewhere. He's positively the laziest human being I ever set eyes
on."
"Better take along five dollars to bait him with," suggested Ned.
"I've got my stick," said Stacy. "I'll tickle the back of the burro
and its rider, just as I did the frogs."
"You try that on the burro and he'll kick you into the middle of next
week," warned Walter.
"Yes," laughed Tad. "Did you see him kick when Juan tossed a tomato
can against his heels this morning ? Kicked the can clear over a tree
and out of sight."
"He'd make a good batter for the Chillicothe baseball team," suggested
Chunky. "He'd be the only real batter in the nine. They could turn him
loose on the umpire when they didn't need him on the diamond. Wouldn't
it be funny to see some umpires kicked over the high board fence?"
"Come along if you are going with me."
Stacy swung into his saddle, and, galloping off, caught up with Tad,
who was in a hurry to get back to camp before dark.
"Keep your eyes to the right, Chunky, and I'll look on the left. If
you see anything that looks like a lazy Mexican and a lazy burro, just
call out."
"I'll run over them, that's what I'll do," declared the fat boy.
"Hello, there's a fellow on horseback."
"I see him."
The lads changed their course a little so as to head off the solitary
horseman, who was loping along in something of a hurry.
"Howdy," greeted the lad.
"Evening, stranger. Where you hail from and where to?"
"We're in camp back here. I'm looking for our guide, a Mexican named
Juan. He went away this morning and we haven't seen him since."
"And you won't so long as his money holds out," laughed the horseman.
"Then, you've seen him? Will you tell me where I may find him?"
"Sure thing, boy, but I reckon you'd better not be going any further?"
"Why not?"
"He's over yonder, gambling with some renegade Apaches."
"Apaches!" exclaimed the lads in one voice. "Those must be the same
fellows we saw up in the range. But how do you suppose he knew they
were over there?"
"He? Those Greasers know everything except what they ought to know--
especially if there's any games of chance going on."
"Will you please tell me how we can reach the place? We want to make a
very early start in the morning, and I don't like to take a chance of
his not getting back in time."
"If ye're bound to go, keep right along the edge of the foothills. You
can't miss the place. Better keep away if you don't want to be getting
into a mix-up. There's going to be lively doings over there pretty
soon," warned the stranger.
"How do you mean? I've seen Indians before. Guess they won't hurt us
if they let Juan pow-wow with them."
"This is different, young man. They're going to hold a fire dance
to-night--"
"A fire dance?"
"Yes."
"I thought they weren't allowed to do that any more?"
"They ain't, but they will. There's a bunch of Sabobas from over the
line. They're the original fire eaters. They come over here kind of
secret like. Then there's Pueblos, 'Paches, and bad ones from every
tribe within a hundred miles of here. Been making smoke signals from
the mountains for more'n a week past--"
"I saw that yesterday and thought it was intended as a signal."
"Right."
"But you don't think there will be any danger in just going after our
guide, do you?"
"Boy, they'll be letting blood before morning, even if the Government
doesn't drop down on the picnic and clean out the whole bunch of them.
There is sure to be trouble before morning."
"Thank you," said Tad, touching his pony;
"Going on?" questioned the horseman.
"Yes; I'm going to fetch Juan," replied Tad, touching spurs to his
pony and galloping away, followed by Stacy Brown.
The horseman sat his saddle watching the receding forms of the two
Pony Rider Boys until they disappeared behind a butte in the
foothills.
"Well, if those kids ain't got the sand!" he muttered.
CHAPTER V
A DARING ACT
"If you don't want to go with me you may go back, Chunky. Perhaps one
would not be as likely to get into trouble as two. You can find your
way, can't you?"
"I go back? Think I'm a tenderfoot? Huh! Guess I ain't afraid of any
cheap Wild West Indians. I'm going with you, Tad."
"Very well; but see to it that you keep in the background. You have a
habit of getting into trouble on the slightest provocation."
"So do you," retorted Stacy.
The ponies had been urged to their best pace by this time. Twilight
had fallen and darkness would settle over them in a very short time
now, though a new moon hovered pale and weak in the blue sky above.
Tad knew this, so he did not worry about the return trip.
"We should be sighting the place pretty soon," he muttered.
"I see a light," announced Stacy.
"Where?"
"To the right. Over that low butte there."
"Yes; that's so. I see it now. You have sharp eyes," laughed Tad.
"I can see when there's anything to see."
"And eat when there's food to be had," added Tad.
"Think those are the Indians that wanted to shoot us, Tad?" he asked,
with a trace of apprehension in his voice.
Tad glanced at his companion keenly;
"Getting cold feet, Chunky?"
"No!" roared the fat boy.
"I beg your pardon," grinned Tad. "I didn't mean to insult you."
"Better not. Look out that you don't get chilblains on your own feet.
May need a hot mustard bath yourself before you get through."
They rounded the butte. A full quarter of a mile ahead of them
flickered a large fire, with several smaller blazes twinkling here and
there about it. Shadowy figures were observed moving back and forth,
some with rapid movements, others in slow, methodical steps.
"There must be a lot of them, Tad."
"Looks that way. I wonder where we shall find the guide."
Both boys fell silent for a time, and as they drew nearer to the scene
pulled their ponies down to a walk. Tad concluded to make a detour
half way round the camp in order to get a clump of bushes that he had
observed between them and the redskins. From that point of vantage he
would be able to get a closer view, and perhaps locate the man for
whom he was looking.
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