Books: In the Pecos Country
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Lieutenant R.H. Jayne >> In the Pecos Country
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"I don't suppose it will help much, for the bushes up there will keep
out pretty much of the sunlight that might have come through; but I
guess I'll have plenty time to wait, and that's what I'll do."
He fell into a sort of doze, lulled by the music of the cascade, which
lasted until the night was over. As soon as he awoke, he looked
upward to see how matters stood.
The additional light showed that the day had come, but it produced no
perceptible effect upon the interior of the cave. All was as
dark--that is, upon the bottom--as ever. It was only in the upper
portion that there was a faint lighting-up.
Fred could see the jagged edges of the opening, with some of the
bushes bent over, and seemingly ready to drop down, with the dirt and
gravel clinging to their roots. The opening was irregular, and some
four or five feet in extent, and, as near as he could estimate, was
some thirty feet above his head.
"If I happened to come down on a rock, I might have got hurt; but
things down here were fixed to catch me, and it begins to look as
though they were fixed to hold me, too."
His situation was certainly very serious. He had no gun or weapons of
any kind other than a common jack-knife, and it looked very much as if
there was no way for him to get out the cave again without outside
assistance, of which the prospect was exceedingly remote.
He was hungry, and without the means of obtaining food.
The berries, which had acted so queerly with him the day before, were
beyond his reach.
Vegetation needs the sunlight, as do all of us, and it is useless to
expect anything edible below.
"Unless it's fish," thought Fred, aloud. "I've heard that they find
them in the Mammoth Cave without eyes, and there may be some of the
same kind here; but then I'm just the same as a boy without eyes, and
how am I going to find them?"
The more he reflected upon his situation, the more disheartened did he
become. He had been given many remarkable deliverances in the past
few days, and although his faith was strong that Providence would
bring him out of this last predicament, his heart misgave him as he
considered it in all its bearings.
"The best thing I can do is to try and gather some wood together, and
start a fire. If there is enough fuel, I may kindle a lantern that
will show me something in the way of a new door--Halloa! what is the
matter?"
His attention was attracted by the rattling of gravel and dirt at his
side, and looking up, he saw that something was struggling in the
opening above, having been caught apparently in precisely the same
manner as he had been.
His first supposition was that it was a wild animal, but the next
moment he observed that it was a person, most probably an Apache
warrior. And by the time Fred had learned that much, down came his
visitor.
CHAPTER XXVI
A WELCOME VISITOR
Lonely as Fred Munson felt in that dismal cavern, he preferred the
solitude to the companionship of an Apache Indian, and, fearful of
discovery, he crouched down to wait until he should move away. His
involuntary visitor dropped within a few feet of where he was hiding,
and Fred tried to hold his breath for fear he might be detected; but
the fellow quietly rose and gave expression to his sentiments.
"Begorrah, if I haven't fell through into the cellar, as me
grandmither did when she danced down the whole party, and landed on
the bottom, and kept up the jig without a break, keep ing time with
the one-eyed fiddler above."
Fred could scarcely believe the evidence of his own senses. That was
the voice of his old friend, Mickey O'Rooney, or else he was more
mistaken than he had ever been in his life. But whatever doubts might
have lingered with him were removed by the words that immediately
followed.
"It beats the blazes where that young spalpeen can be kaping himself.
Me and Misther Simpson have been on the hunt for two days and more,
and now when I got on his trail, and found where he'd crawled into the
bushes, and I tried to do the same, I crawled into the biggest cellar
in the whole world, and I can't find the stairs to walk out again---"
"Helloa, Mickey! Is that you, my old friend?" called out the
overjoyed lad, springing forward, throwing his arms about him, and
breaking in most effectually upon his meditations.
The Irishman was mystified for a moment, but he recognized the voice,
reached down, and placed his arms in turn about the lad.
"Begorrah, if this ain't the greatest surprise of me life, as
Mr. O'Spangarkoghomagh remarked when I called and paid him a little
balance that I owed him. I've had a hard hunt for you, and had about
guv you up when I came down on you in this shtyle. Freddy, me boy, I
crave the privilege of axing ye a question."
"Ask me a thousand, if you want," replied the boy, dancing about with
delight.
"Are ye sure that it's yoursilf and nobody else? I don't want to make
a mistake that'll cause me mortification, and ye must answer
carefully.''
"I'm sure it is I, Fred Munson."
"Whoop! hurrah!'' shouted Mickey, leaping several feet in the air,
and, as he came down, striking at once into the Tipperary jig.
The overjoyed fellow kept it up for several minutes, making the cold,
moist sand fly in every direction. He terminated the performance by a
higher leap than ever, and a regular Comanche war-whoop. Having
vented his overflowing spirits in this fashion, the Irishman was ready
to come down to something like more sober common sense. Reaching out,
he took the hand of Fred, saying as he did so:
"Let me kaap hold of your flipper, so that I can prevint your drifting
away. Now tell me, my laddy, how did you get here?"
"I come down the same way that you did."
"Through the skylight up there? It's a handy way of going
down-stairs, the only trouble being that it's sometimes inconvanient
to stop so suddint like. Did n't you obsarve the opening till you
stepped into it?"
"I didn't see it then. I was near it, asleep, and when I woke up in
the night I crawled in under the bushes to shelter myself, when I went
through into the cave. How was it you followed?"
"I was sarching for ye, as I've been doing for the last two days and
more. I obsarved the hole, for I had the daylight to help me, and I
crawled up to take a paap down to see who lived there, when I must
have gone too fur, as me uncle obsarved after he had been hung in a
joke, and the ground crumbled beneath me, and I slid in. But let me
ax you again, are ye much acquainted in these parts? You know I'm a
stranger."
"I never was here before. I've looked around all I can, but haven't
been able to find how big the cave is. There's a small waterfall, and
the stream comes in and goes out somewhere, and there is _one_ rent,
at least, so deep that I don't believe it has any bottom. I've
learned that much, and that's all."
"That's considerable for a laddy like you. Are you hungry?"
"You'd better believe I am."
"Why had I better belave it?" asked Mickey, with an assumption of
gravity that it was impossible for him to feel. "If ye give me your
word of honor, I'll belave you, because I've been hungry myself, and
know how it goes. I have some lunch wid me, and if ye don't faal
above ating with common folks, we'll sup together."
"I am so glad," responded Fred, who was indeed in need of something
substantial. "I feel weak and hollow."
"Ye shall have your fill; take the word of an Irishman for that.
Would you like to smoke?"
"You know I never smoke, Mickey."
"I did n't ax ye that question, but if ye doesn't feel inclined to do
the same, I'll indulge myself a little."
The speaker had been preparing his pipe and tobacco while they were
talking, and, as he uttered the last words, he twitched the match
against the bowl, and immediately began drawing at it.
As the volumes of smoke issuing from his mouth showed that the flame
had done its duty, he held the match aloft, and looked down in the
smiling, upturned face of the lad, scrutinizing the handsome
countenance, as long as the tiny bit of pine held out.
"Yes, it's your own lovely self, as Barney McDougan's wife obsarved,
when he came home drunk, with one eye punched out and his head
cracked. Do ye know that while I was surveying your swate face I saw
something behind ye?"
"No. What was it?" demanded Fred, with a start and shudder, looking
back in the darkness.
"Oh! it was nothing that will harm ye: I think there be some bits of
wood there that kin be availed of in the way of kindling a fire, and
that's what I misses more than anything else, as me mither used to say
when she couldn't find the whisky-bottle. Bestir yourself, me laddy,
and assist me in getting together some scraps."
The Irishman was not mistaken in his supposition. Groping around,
they found quite a quantity of sticks and bits of wood. All of these
were dry, and the best kind of kindling stuff that could be obtained.
Mickey was never without his knife, and he whittled several of these
until sure they would take the flame from a match when he made the
essay.
The fire caught readily, and, carefully nursed, it spread until it
roared and crackled like an old-fashioned camp-fire. As it rose
higher and higher, and the heavy gloom was penetrated and lit up by
the vivifying rays, Mickey and Fred used their eyes to the best of
their ability.
The cave seemed to stretch away into fathomless darkness in every
direction, excepting one, which was toward the waterfall or cascade.
This appeared to be at one side, instead of running through the
centre. The dark walls could be seen on the other side of the stream,
and the gleam and glitter of the water, for some distance both above
and below the plunge.
"Do you obsarve anything new?" asked Mickey.
"Nothing more than what I told you," replied Fred, supposing he
referred to the extent of the cavern.
"I have larned something," said the man, significantly.
"What's that?"
"Somebody's been here ahead of us."
"How do you know that?"
"I've got the proof. Will you note that, right there before your
eyes?"
As he spoke, he pointed to the kindling-wood, or fuel, of which they
had collected considerable, while there was plenty more visible around
them. Fred was not sure that he understood him, so he still looked
questioningly toward him.
"Wood doesn't grow in such places as this, no more than ye can find
praties sprouting out of the side of a tea kettle; but then it might
have been pitched down the hole above, or got drifted into it without
anybody helping, if it wasn't for the fact that there's been a
camp-fire here before."
"How do you make that out, Mickey?"
The Irishman stooped down and picked up one of the pieces of wood,
which was waiting to be thrown upon the camp fire. Holding it out, he
showed that the end was charred.
"That isn't the only stick that's built after the same shtyle, showing
that this isn't the first camp-fire that was got up in these parts.
There's been gintlemen here before to-day, and they must have had some
way of coming and going that we haven't diskivered as yet."
There seemed nothing unlikely in this supposition of Mickey's, who
picked up his rifle from where he had left it lying on the ground, and
stared inquiringly around in the gloom.
"I wonder whether there be any wild animals prowling around?"
"I don't think that could be; for there couldn't many of them fall
through that hole that let us in, and if they did, they would soon
die."
"That minds me that you hinted something about feeling the cravings of
hunger, and I signified to you that I had something for ye about my
clothes; and so I have, if it isn't lost."
As he spoke, he drew from beneath his waistcoat a package, carefully
wrapped about with an ordinary newspaper. Gently drawing the covering
aside, he displayed a half-dozen pieces of deer-meat, cooked to a
turn.
"Will ye take some?" he asked, handing one to Fred, who could scarcely
conceal his craving eagerness, as he began masticating it.
"How comes it that you have that by you?"
"I ginerally goes prepared for the most desprit emargencies, as me
mither used to remark when she stowed the whisky-bottle away wid the
lunch she was takin' with her. It was about the middle of yisterday
afternoon that I fetched down a deer that was browsing on the bank of
a small stream that I raiched, and, as a matter of coorse, I made my
dinner on him. I tried to lay in enough stock to last me for a
week--that is, under my waistband--but I hadn't the room; so I sliced
up several pieces, rather overcooked 'em, so as to make 'em handy to
carry, and then wrapped 'em up in the paper."
"It's a common-sense arrangement," added Mickey. "I had the time and
the chance to do it, and it was likely to happen that, when I wanted
the next meal, I wouldn't have the same opportunity, remembering which
I did as I said, and the result is, I've brought _your_ dinner to
you."
CHAPTER XXVII
A SUBTERRANEAN CAMP-FIRE
There is no sauce like hunger, and after Fred Munson's experience of
partial starvation, and nausea from the wild berries which he had
eaten, the venison was as luscious as could be. It seemed to him that
he had never tasted of anything he could compare to it.
"Fred, me laddy, tell me all that has happened to you since we
met--not that, aither, but since Lone Wolf snapped you up on his
mustang, and ran away wid you. I wasn't about the city when the
Apaches made their call, being off on a hunt, as you will remember, so
I didn't see all the sport, but I heard the same from Misther
Simpson."
Thus invited, the boy went over the narration, already known, giving
the full particulars of his adventures, from the morning he opened his
eyes and found himself in the camp of the Apaches in the mountains; to
the hour when he slipped through from the upper earth into the cave
below. Mickey listened with great interest, frequently interrupting
and expressing his surprise and gratitude at the good fortune which
seemed to succeed bad fortune in every case.
"You sometimes read of laddies like you gettin out of the claws of
these spalpeens, but you don't often see it, though you've been lucky
enough to get out."
"Now, Mickey, tell me how it was that you came to get on my track."
"Well, you see, I got back to New Bosting shortly after the rumpus. I
would have been in time enough to have had a hand in the wind-up, if
it hadn't been that I got into a little circus of my own. Me and a
couple of Apaches tried the game of cracking each other's heads, that
was spun out longer than we meant, and so, as I was obsarving, when I
rode into town, the fun was all over. I found Misther Simpson just
gettin' ready to take your trail, and he axed me to do the same, and I
was mighty glad to do it. I was desirous of bringing along your horse
Hurricane, for you to ride when we should get you, but Soot would n't
hear of it. He said the horse would only be a bother, and if we
should lay hands onto you, either of our horses was strong enough to
take you, so we left the crature behind."
"Did you have any trouble in following us?"
"Not at first; a hundred red spalpeens riding over the prairie can't
any more hide their trail than an Irishman can save himself from
cracking a head when he is invited to do so. We galloped along,
without ever scarcely looking at the ground. You know I've larned
something of the perarie business since we came West, and that was the
kind of trail I could have follered wid both eyes shut and me hands
handcuffed, and, knowing as we naaded to hurry, we put our mustangs to
their best paces."
"How was it that you didn't overtake us?"
"You had too much of a start; but when we struck the camp in the
mountains--that is, where Lone Wolf and his spalpeens took their
breakfast--we wasn't a great way behind 'em. We swung along at a good
pace, Soot trying to time ourselves so that we'd strike 'em 'bout
dark, when he ca'c'lated there'd be a good chance to work in on 'em."
"How was it you failed?'
"We'd worked that thing as nice as anything you ever heard tell on, if
Lone Wolf hadn't played a trick on us. We had n't gone far on the
trail among the mountains, when we found that the spalpeens had
separated into two parties--three in one, and something like a hundred
in the other."
"And you did not know which had charge of me?"
"There couldn't be any sartinty about it, and the best we could do was
to make a guess. Soot got off his mustang and crawled round on his
hands and knees, running his fingers over the ground, and looking down
as careful like as me mither used to do with my head when she obsarved
me scratching it more industrious than usual. He did n't say much,
and arter a time he came back to where his mustang was waitin', and,
leanin' agin the beast, looked up in my face, and axed me which party
I thought you was in. I said the thray, of course, and that was the
rason why they had gone off by themselves."
"You were right, then, of course."
"Yes, and when I answered, Soot, he just laughed kind o' soft like,
and said that that was the very rason why he did not believe you was
with the thray. He remarked that Lone Wolf was a mighty sharp old
spalpeen. He knowed that Soot would be coming on his trail, and he
divided up his party so as to bother him. Anybody would be apt to
think just the same as I did--that the boy would be sent to the Injun
town in charge of the little party, while the others went on to hatch
up some deviltry. Lone Wolf knowed enough to do that, and he had
therefore kept the laddy with the big company, maaning that his old
friend, the scout, should go on a fool's errand.
"That's the way Soot rasoned, you see, and that's where he missed it
altogether. He wasn't ready for both of us to take the one trail, so
it was agreed that we should also divide into two parties--he going
after the big company and I aiter the small one, he figuring out that,
by so doing, he would get all the heavy work to do, and I would n't
any, and there is where he missed it bad. There wasn't any way that
we could fix it so that we could come together again, so the
understanding was that each was to go on his own hook, and get back to
New Bosting the best way we could, and if there was n't any New
Bosting to go to, why, we was to keep on till we reached Fort Severn,
which, you know is about fifty miles beyant.
"You understand, I was just as sartin' that I was on your trail as
Soot was that he was gainin' on ye; so we both worked our purtiest.
I've been studyin' up this trailin' business ever since we struck this
side of the Mississippi, and I'd calculated that I'd larned something
'bout such things. I belave I could hang to the tracks of them three
horsemen till I cotched up to 'em, and nothing could throw me off; but
it was n't long before I begun to get things mixed. The trail
bothered me, and at last I was stunned altogether. I begun to think
that maybe Soot was right, after all, and the best thing I could do
was to turn round and cut for home; but I kept the thing up till I
struck a trail that led up into the mountains, which I concluded was
made by one of the spalpeens in toting you off on his shoulders. That
looked, too, as if the Ingin' settlement was somewhere not far off,
and I begun to think ag'in that Soot was wrong and I right. I kept
the thing up till night, when I had n't diskivered the first sign, and
not only that, but had lost the trail, and gone astray myself."
"Just as I did," Fred observed.
"I pushed my mustang ahead," Mickey continued, "and he seemed to climb
like a goat, but there was some places where I had to get off and help
him. I struck a spot yesterday where there was the best of water and
grass, and the place looked so inviting that I turned him loose,
intending to lave him to rist till to-day. While he was there, I
thought I might as well be taking observations around there, makin'
sartin' to not get out of sight of the hoss, so I shouldn't get lost
from him."
"And is he near by?"
"Not more than a mile away. I was pokin' 'round like a thaif in a
pratie-patch, when I coom onto a small paice of soft airth, where, as
sure as the sun shines, I seed your footprint. I knowed it by its
smallness, and by the print of them odd-shaped nails in your heel.
Well, you see, that just set me wild. I knowed at once that by some
hook or crook you had give the spalpeens the slip, and was wandering
round kind of lost like mysilf. So I started on the tracks, and
followed them, till it got dark, as best I could, though they
sometimes led me over the rocks and hard earth, in such a way that I
could only guess at 'em. When night came, I was pretty near this
spot, but I was puzzled. I could n't tell where to look further, and
I was afeared of gettin' off altogether. So I contented mesilf wid
shtrayin' here and there, and now and then givin' out the signal that
you and me used to toot when we was off on hunts together. When this
morning arriv', I struck signs agin, and at last found that your track
led toward these bushes, and thinks I to myself, thinks I, you'd
crawled in there to take a snooze, and I hove ahead to wake you up,
but I was too ambitious for me own good, as was the case when I
proposed to Bridget O'Flannigan, and found that she had been already
married to Tim McGubbins a twelvemonth, and had a pair of twins to
boast of. I own it wasn't a dignified and graceful way of coming
down-stairs, but I was down before I made up my mind."
"Well, Mickey, we are here, and the great thing now is to get out.
Can you tell any way?"
The Irishman took the matter very philosophically. It would seem that
any one who had dropped down from the outer world as had he, would
feel a trifle nervous; but he acted as if he had kindled his camp-fire
on the prairie, with the certainty that no enemy was within a hundred
miles.
When he and his young friend had eaten all they needed, there was
still a goodly quantity left, which he folded up with as much care in
the same piece of paper as though it were a tiara of diamonds.
"We won't throw that away just yet. It's one of them things that may
come into use, as me mither used to say when she laid the brickbats
within aisy raich, and looked very knowingly at her old man."
After the completion of the meal, man and boy occupied themselves for
some time in gathering fuel, for it was their purpose to keep the fire
going continually, so long as they remained in the cave--that is, if
the thing were possible. There was an immense quantity of wood; it
had probably been thrown in from above, as coal is shoveled into the
mouth of a furnace, and it must have been intended for the use of
parties who had been in the cave before.
When they had gathered sufficiently to last them for a good while,
Mickey lit his pipe, and they sat down by the fire to discuss the
situation. The temperature was comfortable, there being no need of
the flames to lessen the cold; but there was a certain tinge of
dampness, natural to such a location, that made the fire grateful, not
alone for its cheering, enlivening effect, but for its power in
dissipating the slight peculiarity alluded to.
Seated thus the better portion of an hour was occupied by them in
talking over the past and interchanging experiences, the substance of
which had already been given. They were thus engaged when Mickey, who
seemed to discover so much from specimens of the fuel which they had
gathered, picked up another stick, which was charred at one end, and
carefully scrutinized it, as though it contained an important sermon
intended for his benefit.
CHAPTER XXVIII
THE EXPLORING TOUR
After gently tossing the stick in his hand, like one who endeavors to
ascertain its weight, Mickey smelled of it, and finally bit his teeth
into it, with a very satisfactory result.
"Now, that's what I call lucky, as the old miser obsarved when he
found he was going to save his dinner by dying in the forenoon. Do
you mind that shtick--big enough to sarve as a respictable shillalah
at Donnybrook Fair? Well, my laddy, that has done duty as a lantern
in this very place."
"As a torch, you mean?"
"Precisely; just heft it." As he tossed it into Fred's hand, the
latter was astonished to note its weight.
"What's the cause of that?" he inquired.
"It's a piece of pine, and its chuck full of pitch. That's why it's
so heavy. It'll burn like the biggest kind of a candle, and me plan,
me laddy, is to set that afire, and then start out to larn something
about this new house."
Nothing could have suited the boy better. He sprang to his feet and
took the gun from Mickey, so as to leave him free to carry the torch.
One end of the latter was thrust into the fire, and it caught as
readily as if it were smeared with alcohol. It was a bit of pine, as
fat as it could be, and, as a torch, could not have been improved
upon.
Then Mickey elevated it above his head, it gave forth a long yellow
smoke blaze, which answered admirably the purpose for which it was
required.
"I'll take the lead," said he to his young friend, when they were
ready to start. "You follow a few yards behind and look as sharp as
you can to find out all there is to be found out. You know there is
much that depends on this."
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