Books: In the Pecos Country
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Lieutenant R.H. Jayne >> In the Pecos Country
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"The interview was very satisfactory," continued Mickey, "and I wint
over to take a sly paap at Molly. As I drawed near the little hut on
the edge of the wood, I did n't hear any such noise as I noticed over
at Bridget's house. All was as still as it is here this minute. Me
first thought was that they all had gone away, but when I got nearer,
I noted my mistake. Molly's mother was busy sewing, and sitting near
her was her charming daughter Molly, leaning back in her chair, with
her head thrown still further back, her mouth wide open, and she
a-snoring. I've no doubt that she had become exhausted from overwork,
and was taking a little nap. The mother looked up as I stepped softly
in, and I axed her, in an undertone, how long her pet child had been
asleep. She said between two or three hours, and that she would wake
her up, if Molly hadn't told her before closing her eyes that if she
dared to disturb her before her nap was finished, she'd break the old
lady's head. Knowing the delicate relations that existed betwaan us,
she suggested that I should arouse her, she being afraid that she
would sleep so long that she would starve to death before she awoke.
I wanted to come at the matter gintly, so I took a straw and tickled
Molly's nose. She snorted a little, and rubbed it with her fist, but
didn't open her eyes. I'd undertook the job, however, and I was bound
to do it, or die. So I wiggled at her nostrils, and she made a yell
and a jump, and was wide awake. I don't mind me all that took place
just then. Things was kind of confused, and, when Molly lit on me, I
thought the cabin had tumbled in. My senses came back arter a while,
and when I got my head bandaged up, I wint home to dream over it."
"And what was your dream?" asked Fred.
"In my slumbers, I saw both my loves going for each other like a
couple of Kilkenny cats, until there was nothing of aither lift. I
took that as a sign that naither of 'em was interested for me, and so
I give them up, sneaking off and sailing for Ameriky before they
learned my intintions."
CHAPTER XXXI
AN EXCHANGE OF SHOTS
Mickey proposed to act upon his own suggestion, which was to go to
sleep as soon as the day ended and discuss the many different plans
during his slumbers. He had a strong hope that the right one could be
hit upon by this method. Somehow or other, his thoughts were fixed
upon the stream, where it disappeared under the rocks, and, leaving
Fred by the camp-fire, he relit his torch and went off to make another
survey.
The lad watched the star-like point of light flickering in the gloom
as his friend moved along, holding the torch over his head. It seemed
to the watcher that when it paused they were separated by nearly a
half mile. The light had an odd way of vanishing and remaining
invisible for several minutes that made him think that some accident
had befallen the bearer, or that the light had gone out altogether;
but after a time it would reappear, dancing about in a way to show
that the bearer was not idle in his researches.
Mickey O'Rooney was indeed active. After making his way to the point
he was seeking, he shied off to the right, and approached the chasm,
down which Fred had lost his rifle. As he stood on the edge of the
rent in the fathomless darkness, he loosened a boulder with his foot,
and as it toppled over, listened for the result. The way was so
narrow that it bounded like a ball from side to side, and the Irishman
heard it as it went lower and lower, until at last the strained ear
could detect nothing more. There was no sound that came to him to
show that it had reached the bottom.
"I s'pose it's going yet," reflected Mickey, after listening several
minutes, "and no doubt it will kaap on till it comes out somewhere in
Chiny, which I've been told is on t'other side of the world. Now, why
could n't we do the same?" he asked himself, with a sharp turn of the
voice. "If that stone is on its way to Chiny, why can't we folly on
after it? If we can't reach the crust of the world at this point,
what's to hinder our going round by Chiny?--that's what I'd like to
know. I wonder how long it would take us? I s'pose we'd get up
pretty good steam, and go faster and faster, so that we wouldn't be
many days on the road.
"But there's one great objection," he added, scratching his head and
knitting his brow with thought. "There's nothing to stop us from
bouncing from side to side like that stone. If the way is rough, we'd
be pretty sartin to get our breeches pretty well ripped off us, and by
the time we raiched Chiny, we wouldn't be in a condition to be
presented in coort; and then, too, I haven't enough money about me to
pay my way home again."
The visionary scheme was one of those which grew less in favor the
more he reflected upon it, and, after turning it over for some minutes
longer, he was naturally compelled to abandon the idea.
"I must try the stream agin," he said, as he rose to his feet and
groped his way back. "That seems to be the best door, after all,
though it ain't the kind I hanker after."
He thrust one end of the torch in the ground some distance away, and
walked to the bank close to the great rock beneath which the stream
dove and disappeared. Stooping down, he observed the same dull, white
appearance that had caught his eye in the first place. Beyond
question this was caused by the sunlight striking the water from the
outside.
"I could almost swear that a feller wouldn't have to go more than
twenty feet before he'd strike daylight," mused Mickey, as he folded
his arms and looked thoughtfully at the misty relief of the
surrounding darkness; "and it would n't take much more to persuade me
to make the dive and try it."
As Mickey stood there, contemplating as best he could the darkly
flowing stream, and debating the matter with himself, he was on the
very eve of making the attempt fully half a dozen times. It seemed to
him that he could not fail, and yet there was something in the project
which held him back.
The stream at that point flowed quite rapidly, and the strongest
swimmer, after venturing a few feet under water, would be utterly
unable to return. Once started, there would be no turning back, so he
concluded not to make the decisive trial just yet.
"The day is pretty nearly ended, and I will drame over it. I told me
laddy that that was my favorite way of getting out of such a scrape,
and I'll thry it. If there's no plan that presints itself by
to-morrow, then I'll thry it then or the day after."
Going to where his torch was still burning in the sand, he drew it out
and moved back toward his old camp-fire.
"Well, me laddy, how have you made out during me absince? Have
you---"
He paused and looked about him.
"Begorrah, but no laddy is here. Can it be that he has strayed off,
and started to Chiny so as to head me off? I say! Fred, me laddy,
have ye---"
"Sh! sh!"
And as the hurried aspirate was uttered, the boy came running silently
out of the darkness, with his hand raised in a warning way.
"What is it?" asked Mickey, in amazement; "have ye found another dead
man?"
"No; he's a live one!"
"What do yez mane? Explain yerself."
The lad pointed to the opening over their heads, and motioned to his
friend not to draw too near the camp-fire. There was danger in doing
so.
"There's somebody up there," he added, "and they're looking for us."
"Are ye sure of that?" asked the Irishman, not a little excited at the
news. "It may be that Soot Simpson has found us. Begorrah, if there
is n't any mistake about it, as me uncle remarked, when he heard that
the ship with his wife on was lost at saa, then I'll execute the
Donnybrook jig in the highest style of the art. What was it that
aroused your suspicion that some jintleman was onmannerly enough to be
paaping down on us?"
"I was sitting here watching you, or rather your torch, and all the
time the gravel kept rattling down faster and faster, till I knowed
there was something more than usual going on up there, and I sneaked
away from the fire, where I could get a better look. I went right
under the place, and was about to see something worth seeing, when
some dirt dropped plump into my eye, and I couldn't see anything for a
while. After I had rubbed the grit out I took another look, and I
know I saw something moving up there."
"What did it look like?" asked Mickey, who was moving cautiously
around, with his gaze fixed upon the same opening.
"I couldn't tell, though I tried hard to get a glimpse. It seemed to
me that some one had a stick in his hand, and was beating around the
edges of the opening, as though he wanted to knock the loose dirt off.
I could see the stick flirted about, and fancied I could see the hand
that was holding it, though I could n't be certain of that."
"No; that's a leetle too much, as me mither obsarved, when me brother
Tim said that he and meself had got along a whole half day without
fighting, and then she whaled us both for lying. Ye couldn't tell a
man's hand at that distance, but I see nothing of him, and I should
like ye to tell me where he's gone."
"That is what puzzles me. Maybe he is afraid that we will see him."
Mickey was hardly disposed to accept such an explanation. It seemed
to him more likely that it was some wild animal mousing around the
orifice, and displacing the dirt with his paws, although he couldn't
understand why an animal should be attracted by such a spot.
"It may be one of the spalpeens that got us into all this trouble," he
added, still circling slowly about, with his eyes fixed upon the
opening. "Those Apaches are sharp-eyed, and perhaps one of their
warriors has struck our trail, and tracked us to that spot. If it's
the same, then I does n't see what he is to gain by fooling round up
there. If he'd be kind 'nough to let a lasso down that we could climb
up by, there'd be some sinse in the same, but---"
To the horror of both, at that instant there was a flash at the
opening over their heads, a dull report, and the bullet buried itself
in the very centre of the camp-fire.
"Begorrah, but that's what I call cheek, as Ned McGowan used to say
when the folks axed him to pay his debts. While we are looking about,
and axing ourselves whether there's anybody else at all around us, one
of the spalpeens sinds his bullet down here, coming closer to us than
is plaisant. Did ye obsarve him?"
"I saw nothing but the flash. Do you think they could see us?"
"Not where we are now. We're too far away from the light. They've
seen the fire, and be that token they've concluded that we must be
somewhere near it."
"But there was but one shot. Why not more?"
"We'll get the rest of thern arter awhile. That's a sort of faaler,
thrown out to see how we take it, as Larry O'Looligan used to say when
he knocked a man down. Now, do ye stand aside, and I'll answer 'em."
"You'd better not," protested Fred. "They can tell where we are by
the flash of our guns."
"Whisht, now, can't we move? Kape back in the dark like."
The lad moved away several steps, and Mickey, who made sure that his
form was not revealed by the light of his own camp-fire, circled
around to the other side of the opening, which he was watching with
the keenest interest. His purpose was to catch a glimpse of the
wretch who had fired the shot. But that seemed about impossible. He
could detect something moving now and then, and once or twice there
was a twinkle of something red, like the eagle feather in the hair of
the warrior, but he could make out nothing definitely.
"He's there; and all I want to do is to be certain of hitting him," he
muttered, as he held the cocked rifle to his shoulder. "I'm afeard
that if I miss he'll take such good care of himself that I won't get
another chance---"
"There, Mickey, there's something," broke in Fred, who was
scrutinizing the opening as closely as he could. "Fire, quick! or you
won't get the chance!"
The words were scarcely uttered, when the Irishman, who had already
taken aim, pulled the trigger, instantly lowering his piece to watch
the result.
Both he and Fred fancied they heard an exclamation, but they could not
be certain. There was no perceptible commotion about the skylight,
but the flickering, erratic movement which had puzzled them ceased on
the instant. Whether the shot had accomplished anything or not could
only be conjectured, but Mickey was of the opinion that the exchange
was equally without result in both cases.
CHAPTER XXXII
FOOTSTEPS IN THE DARKNESS
The direct result of this exchange of shots was to make the two
parties more cautious. Mickey and Fred kept further away from the
camp-fire, which they suffered to die out gradually. There was really
no need fot it, and, since its presence meant danger, it was only
prudent to dispense with it altogether.
For fully a half hour not the slightest movement or disturbance at the
opening betrayed the presence of any one there, although there could
be no doubt that their enemies were within call.
"I can't see what they can gain by loafing around them parts, as the
lassies used to obsarve in the ould country when any of the laddies
tried to cut me out wid 'em. They need n't watch for us to come out
that way, for there ain't much danger of our trying to steal out of
that hole---"
"Holloa! Look there!" exclaimed Fred, in considerable excitement;
"some of them are coming down to catch us."
Mickey had already noticed that something unusual was up, and, just as
the lad spoke, the figure of what seemed to be a man blocked up the
opening, and then began slowly descending, as if supported by a rope,
with which his friends were lowering him into the lower room. His
form was swathed with a blanket, and there was a certain majesty in
the slowly sinking figure, which would have been very impressive but
for the fact that it was hardly started when the thin cord by which it
was suspended began to twist and untwist, causing the form to revolve
forward and backward in a way that was fatal to dignity.
On the impulse of the moment, the Irishman had raised his gun to fire
the moment his eyes rested upon the figure. But he restrained
himself, not a little puzzled to guess the meaning of such a
proceeding. The man, as they believed him to be, was slowly lowered,
until something like a dozen feet below the opening, where those who
had him in charge seemed to think was the proper place to hold him on
exhibition for a time.
"Are you going to shoot?" asked the boy, who did not understand the
delay.
"What's the use?" he asked, with an expression of disgust.
"Why, it will stop the man coming down on us."
"Man, do ye say? He ain't any more a man than me gun is."
"What, then, can he be?"
"He's a blanket that they've twisted up so as to look as though it is
gathered about the shoulders of an Apache. It's easy to see that
there's nothing in it from the way it swings around, as though it was
a little toy; and, be the same token, that little cord which holds him
aloft is no thicker than a darning-needle. Why they are thrying such
a simple thrick is more than I can tell."
"I think I know," said Fred. "They've dropped him down to find out
whether we're on the watch or not. If we didn't pay any attention to
it, they would think that neither of us was on the look-out, and they
would send some others down to scalp us."
"Be the powers, me laddy, I b'lave ye are right!" exclaimed Mickey,
admiringly. "That's just the plan of the spalpeens, by which towken,
I'll tip him a shot."
With this he raised his rifle, and, sighting rather carelessly, fired.
The shot, which was aimed at the roll of blanket, missed it altogether
and cut the string which held it suspended in mid-air.
The next moment there was a dull thump upon the sand, and the package
lay at the feet of the Irishman, who gave it a kick to make sure of
its nature. It rebounded several feet, the resistance to the blow
showing that there was nothing more than the simple blanket, and then
he stooped over and examined it more closely by the sense of touch.
"'Twas very kind of the spalpeens to furnish us with a blanket that
saams as good as this, though the weather ain't so cold that we naad
it just now; but sometimes the rain comes and the northers blow, and
then a chap is mighty glad to have seech a convanient article about.
'Twas very kind I say."
The result of the little experiment upon the part of the Apaches, it
was apparent, was not satisfactory to them. The boy was right in his
surmise of its purpose; but it cannot be supposed that they counted
upon losing the blanket under any circumstances. It was a costly and
beautiful one, such as are made by the Indians of the southwest, and
it was new enough to be clean, so that the two fugitives had secured a
prize. At all events, the Apaches must have concluded that the people
below were keeping watch and ward so well that no one could descend
into the cave without danger of being perforated by a rifle ball.
Shortly after this occurrence it began to grow dark above, but the
cause was obvious. The day was drawing to a close. Darkness, only
less profound than that within the cave below, was enwrapping the
surface above.
As soon as the night had fairly descended, Mickey O'Rooney, handling a
small torch with great care, made his way once more to the puzzling
outlet of the underground stream. The inspection satisfied him of the
accuracy of his theory. Not the slightest tinge of light relieved the
impenetrable gloom. Mickey considered this strong proof that it was
but a short distance to the free air outside, and his courage rose
very nearly to the sticking point of making the experiment then and
there.
"But we both naad sleep," he mused, as he threw down his torch, and
made his way back by the dull glare of the expiring camp-fire. "We
both lost considerable last night, and a chap can't kaap reg'lar hours
any more than he can when he's coorting three lassies at the same
time, and thrying to kaap aich from suspecting it. I faal as though
we shall have something lively to do to-morrow, and so we'd better
gain all the slumber we kin."
When he reached the camp, he found the lad anxiously awaiting his
return. They had signaled to each other several times, but the
presence of the danger overhead rendered the boy more uneasy than
usual when they were apart.
"Have ye observed nothing?" asked Mickey, in an undertone.
"Nothing at all."
"It's too dark I know, to see, but mebbe yees have heerd something to
tell ye that the spalpeens are up there still."
"You may be sure I listened all I know how, but everything has kept as
still as the grave. I haven't heard the fall of a pebble even. What
do you think the Indians mean to do?"
"Well it's hard to tell. It fooks as though they didn't think we fell
in, but had come down on purpose, and had some way of getting out as
easy, and they're on the look out for us."
"Maybe, Mickey, there's some other way of coming in, that we haven't
been able to find."
"I hoped so a while ago, but I've guv it up. If them spalpeens knowed
of any other way, what do they mean by fooling around that place up
there, where they're likely to get shot if they show themselves, and
they're likely to lose the best blankets they've got?"
Fred did not feel competent to answer this question, and so he was
forced to believe that Mickey was right in his conclusion that there
was no other way of entering the cave than by the skylight above.
"Which the same thing being the case, I propose that we thry and see
how the new blanket answers for a bed. Begorrah! but its fine, as me
mither used to say when she run her hands over the head of me dad, and
felt the lumps made by the shillelah."
And, having spread the blanket out in the dark-ness, he rubbed his
hands over its velvety surface, admiring its wonderful texture. The
texture is such that water can be carried in these Apache blankets
with as much certainty as in a metal vessel. But Fred protested
against both lying down to sleep at the same time. He thought it
likely that the Apaches meant to visit the cave during the night; but
his friend laughed his fears to scorn, assuring him that there could
be no danger at all. In view of the reception tendered the blanket,
the Apaches would take it for granted that the parties beneath were
too vigilant to permit anyone to steal a march upon them.
Mickey at once attested his sincerity by stretching out upon the
inviting couch, and Fred concluded at last to join him. It was not
long before the Irishman was sound asleep, but the lad lay awake a
long time, looking reflectively up at the spot where he knew the
opening to be,--the opening which had been the means of letting
himself and comrade down into that dismal retreat of solitude,--and
wondering what their enemies were doing.
"They must know that I am here. Lone Wolf will punish them if they
don't keep me, so I am sure they will do all they can to catch me
again. I wish I was certain that there was no way of getting in but
through that up there, and then I could sleep too, but I feel too
scared to do it now."
This anxiety kept him awake a long time after Mickey became
unconscious; but, as hour after hour passed and the stillness remained
unbroken, his fears were gradually dissipated and a feeling of
drowsiness began stealing over him.
Before consciousness entirely departed, he turned upon his side, that
being the posture he generally assumed when asleep. As he made the
movement and his ear was placed against the blanket, which in its turn
rested upon the ground, he heard something which aroused his
suspicions instantly and he raised his head. But when he rested on
his hands, with his shoulders thrown up, he could hear nothing at all.
The earth was a better conductor of sound than the atmosphere, which
accounted for what at first seemed curious.
The boy applied his ear as before, and again he heard the noise,
faintly, but distinctly; As the eye was of no use, he pressed his head
against the blanket and listened. Several minutes were occupied in
this manner, and then he said, in an undertone:
"I know what it is!--it is somebody walking as softly as he can.
There is another way of getting into this cavern, and those Apaches
have found it out. They've got inside and are hunting for us!"
CHAPTER XXXIII
WHAT THE FOOTSTEPS MEANT
Careful listening convinced Fred that there were two red-skins groping
around in the darkness. After making himself certain on that point,
he reached his hand over, and, grasping the muscular arm of Mickey
O'Rooney, shook his companion quite vigorously.
Fred was afraid that, in waking, the Irishman would utter some
exclamation, or make such a noise that he would betray their location.
When, therefore, several shakings failed to arouse him, the boy easily
persuaded himself that it was best to leave him where he was for a
time.
"I can tell when they come too close," he reflected, "and then I will
stir him up."
A few minutes later he found that he could hear the noise without
placing his ear against the blanket; so he lay flat on his face,
resting the upper part of his body upon his elbows, with his head
thrown up. He peered off in the gloom, in the direction whence the
footsteps seemed to come, looking with that earnest, piercing gaze, as
if he expected to see the forms of the dreaded Apaches become luminous
and reveal themselves in the black night around.
No ray of light relieved the Egyptian blackness. The camp-fire had
been allowed to die out completely, and no red ember, glowering like a
demon's eye, showed where it had been. The trained eye might have
detected the faintest suspicion of light near the opening overhead,
but it was faint indeed.
"They keep together," added Fred to himself, as he distinguished the
soft, stealthy tread over the ground. "I should think they would
separate, and they would be the more likely to find the place between
them; but they want to be together when they run against Mickey, I
guess."
The shadowy footsteps were not regular. Occasionally they paused, and
then they hurried on again, and then they settled down into the
stealthiest kind of movement. The lad, it is true, had the newly
found revolver, with several of its chambers loaded, at his command.
There was some doubt, however, whether it could be relied upon, owing
to the probable length of time that had elapsed since the charges were
placed there.
As a precaution, Mickey O'Rooney had placed new caps upon the tubes,
but had chosen to leave the charges themselves undisturbed. This
beautiful weapon the lad held grasped in his hand, determined to blaze
away at the prowling murderers the instant they should reveal
themselves with sufficient distinctness to make his shots certain.
An annoying delay followed. The Apaches seemed to know very nearly
where the right spot was, without being able to locate it definitely.
The footsteps were heard first in one direction and then they changed
off to another. The warriors acted precisely as if they knew the
location of their intended victims, but were seeking to find whether
they were in the right position to be easily attacked.
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