Books: In the Pecos Country
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Lieutenant R.H. Jayne >> In the Pecos Country
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For a short distance, the ravine continued in almost a straight line,
and then it turned at a sharp angle. Without attempting to guide the
mustang in the least, Fred kept himself thrown forward, with his arms
about his neck, while he hammered his sides with his heels, spoke
sharply to him, and did everything he could to urge him to the highest
possible rate of speed. The animal whirled about the corner, and,
with his neck extended, went down the ravine with almost incredible
swiftness--a speed which was steadily drawing him away from his
pursuer, and which would have carried him beyond his reach in a brief
time, but for a singular and altogether unexpected check.
The pursuing red-skin saw his charge quietly slipping from his grasp,
and he must have viewed the wonderful speed of his favorite mustang,
under the circumstances, with mixed emotions. At any rate, it took
him but a short time to see that in a stern chase he had no chance of
coming up with his own animal, and so he commanded him to halt. This
was done by a peculiar, tremulous whooping sound, which he had used
scores of times to summon his animal to him, and which had never
failed. Nor did it fail now.
Fred was careering along at this amazing speed, congratulating himself
meanwhile upon his cleverness, when the brute checked himself so
suddenly that the rider narrowly escaped being pitched over his head.
He jerked the bit, and pounded his heels against his ribs, but it was
of no avail. The horse had pricked up his ears, neighed, and was
looking back, with very much the appearance of an animal that was in a
mental muddle.
The Indian saw it, and repeated the signal. Thereupon the mustang
wheeled and started backward at a gallop, directly toward his master.
"If that's your idea, I'm not going with you!" gasped the lad, who
slipped off his back, as nimbly as a monkey, and made a dash for the
side of the ravine, without any clear idea of where he was going.
It seemed that there was no possible escape for the lad, for the
Indian was but a short distance behind him, and was twice as fleet of
foot as he; but one of those fortunate interferences which seem to be
in their nature like special Providences occurred at this juncture.
The flight and pursuit of Fred Munson took place at a critical period
in the affairs of all parties and so mixed up the business that it waa
thrown entirely out of gear and almost into inextricable confusion.
It seemed that there wea a party of Kiowas in hiding, and awaiting the
chance to open fire upon the approaching Apaches. The sly scamps saw
every movement of the warriors, and it looked as if the flies were
about walking into their trap when the unexpected by-play occurred.
There must have been all of half a dozen Kiowas, enough to extinguish
the Apaches, and when Fred Munson started in his flight, two of the
Indians hurried down the ravine for the purpose of taking a hand in
the business. They unavoidably fell behind in such a trial of speed,
but when they saw the Apache about to reach out his hand to grasp the
fugitive, two shots were fired almost simultaneously at him.
They were intended to kill, too, for the Kiowas, who were actuated by
no love for the despairing white boy, felt that they could afford to
give him this temporary respite. They were certain of their own
ability to step in and pluck the prize at the very moment it might
seem to be beyond their reach. Rather curiously, however, neither of
the shots did what was intended. One of them missed the Apache
altogether, and the other only slightly wounded him.
As it was, however, the pursuing warrior was dumbfounded, and he
stopped as suddenly as if smitten by a bolt from heaven. Leaving his
mustang to look out for himself, he darted to the opposite side of the
ravine from that taken by the lad, for the purpose of securing cover
before a second volley could be fired.
Fred heard the report of the rifle-shots, and sup posed that he was
the target and that they had been fired by Waukko and his companion.
Instead of stopping to ascertain, he continued his flight with all the
desperation of combined hope and despair.
A few seconds sufficed to carry him across the ravine, and among the
rocks, boulders, and stunted growth. The panting fugitive was
rendered almost frantic by the thought that he was about to elude the
red-skin after all. As he bounded into cover, he cast a terrified
glance backward, to see how close to his heels was his dreaded enemy.
Not an Indian was visible.
But although Fred failed to see anything of his enemies, he could not
but believe that they were somewhere in the immediate neighborhood,
and he did not relax his efforts in the slightest. Such strenuous
efforts speedily exhausted him, and after climbing, clambering, and
stumbling forward and upward for some twenty rods or so, he tripped
and pitched forward upon his face, where he lay panting, and so weak
that he could not rise. He was sure he heard the footsteps of his
pursuer but a short distance away, and the most that he could do was
to raise his head and glance furtively in the direction. He had not
the strength absolutely to rise to his feet and run away.
Again and again he was confident that the Apache was close to him, but
still he did not become visible, and all this time Fred was rapidly
regaining his strength. In a very short time his rapid breathing
subsided, and he felt his old vigor and vitality creeping back into
his limbs. He was ready to spring to his feet again, but he did not
deem it best. It seemed to him that the warrior had lost sight of
him, and was looking about. If the boy, therefore, should rise to his
feet, he would be the more likely to be seen, and if he remained where
he was he was sure of being found.
He compromised the matter by crawling forward on his hands and knees,
listening and looking, and continually pausing to prevent creeping
into the arms of his enemies. All this time night was approaching,
and with the passage of each minute came a corresponding rise in the
hopes of the fugitive. Fred kept moving forward upon his hands and
knees, climbing higher and further away from the point of danger.
Everything remained as silent as the tomb.
The Apache that Fred fancied was so close upon him was, in reality,
playing hide and seek with the Kiowas, a business which is generally
conducted in silence, unless the stillness be broken by the occasional
crack of the rifle, or the death-yell of one of the participants. The
footsteps which the boy fancied he heard were all in his imagination.
In fact, he was alone. No human eye saw him, or took cognizance of
his movements. For the present he was left to himself.
There was but One who held him in view and remembrance at this
critical juncture. To Him Fred appealed again and again to lead him
through the labyrinth of peril, and to permit him to return in safety
to his friends.
Still the boy picked his way along as does the frightened animal, and
still he failed to see or hear anything of his enemy. Meanwhile the
gloom deepened, and with the passage of every moment his heart
lightened, until he felt that for the time being, at least, his safety
was assured.
CHAPTER XVI
THE RECONNOISSANCE
It was a mystery to young Munson why the shots fired, as he supposed,
by the Apaches, should have checked his pursuer, who was so close upon
him. Had he known that they came from a couple of hostile Kiowas, and
that they were intended for the warrior whose hand was outstretched to
grasp him, the matter would not have been so hard to understand. But
he saw the night closing in about him, while he remained among the
rocks, moving forward in the same stealthy manner, upon his hands and
knees, and his strained ear failed to catch the slightest sound that
could make him fear that any of his enemies were near at hand.
Of course he looked with all the eyes at his command, but they also
stared upon a blank, so far as animated creation was concerned. At
last Fred halted, tired out with this species of locomotion.
"I do believe I've given them the slip,'' he exclaimed, his heart
throbbing more than ever with renewed hope. "I don't exactly
understand how it was done, but I thank the Lord all the more for it."
He now arose to his feet and reconnoitered his own position. So far
as he could judge, he was fully two hundred yards away from and above
the ravine where he had made this successful attempt at escape. The
day was so far gone by this time that he could barely discern the open
space which led through the mountain. His view on the left was shut
off by the angle to which reference has been made, and on the right
the gathering obscurity ended the field of vision.
As soon as he was able to locate the gorge, his eyes roamed up and
down in quest of those from whom he was fleeing. Not a glimpse could
be obtained. It was as if he had penetrated for the first time a
solitude never before trodden by the foot of man. Satisfied of this
pleasant fact, he then made search for the smoke of the campfire which
was the real cause of his escape.
No twinkling point of light revealed its location, but, having decided
where it was first seen, he fancied he could detect the faintest
outline of a column of vapor rising until, clear of the crest of the
mountain behind it, it could be seen outlined against the sky beyond.
He more than suspected, however, that it was merely imagination.
Leaning back against a boulder, the lad folded his arms and endeavored
to take in the situation in its entirety.
"Thank the Lord, that I have a good start," he mused, his heart
stirred with deep gratitude at the remarkable manner in which he had
eluded the Apaches.
With the knowledge that for the nonce he was clear of his enemies,
several other facts impressed themselves upon his mind--facts which
were both important and unpleasant. In the first place, he had not
eaten a mouthful of food since morning, and he was hungry. He had
swallowed enough water to stave off the more uncomfortable sensation
of thirst, but water is not worth much to appease the hunger. He felt
the need of food very sorely.
In the next place, he could think of no immediate means of getting
anything to eat. He had no gun or pistol--nothing more than his
simple jack-knife. The prospect of procuring anything substantial
with that was not flattering enough to make him feel hopeful.
And again, now that he had freed himself of captivity, how was he to
make his way back to New Boston, where friends were awaiting him, with
little hope of his return? He had traversed many miles since the
preceding night, and had gone through a country that was totally
unknown to him. To attempt to retrace his footsteps without the aid
of a horse was like attempting that which was impossible.
While in the act of fleeing, he thought not of these. He was
unconscious of hunger, and forgot that he was so many miles from home;
but now both conditions were forced upon him with anything but a
pleasant vividness. But all of Fred's ingenuity was unequal to the
task of suggesting a way whereby his want could be supplied. Even had
he a gun, there was not much show for anything like game in the
darkness of night, and thus, under the most favorable circumstances,
he would be forced to wait until morning.
"I'm pretty tired," he said, as he thought over the matter, "and,
maybe, if I get asleep, I can keep it up until morning, and in that
way worry through the night. But I tell you, Fred Munson, I would
like to have a good square meal just now. There is fruit growing here
and there among those mountains, but a chap can't find it at night.
Now, if there was only some camp of the hunters, where I could get in
and--"
He abruptly paused, as his own words suggested an idea.
It was a camp-fire to which he owed his escape. Why couldn't he use
it still further? Was it not likely that the Indians who had kindled
it had taken their meals there, and that there might be some remnants
of the feast which could be used to satisfy his hunger?
It was not a very pleasant prospect to contemplate. It was like going
back into the lion's mouth; nor, indeed, could it be considered a very
wise proceeding to return to the very spot from which he had escaped
by such a providential interference. But a hungry or thirsty man is
not in the best mood to reason, and the incapacity is still more
marked in an excessively hungry boy.
The prospect of getting something to eat overshadowed all other
questions, and after several attempts to consider the matter fairly,
Fred came to the conclusion that he would make the attempt.
To do this it was necessary to go back over the same path he had
followed, and to return to the very spot where he had been ready to
break his neck, if it would assist him in escaping, but a short time
before. But he reasoned that he had the darkness in his favor, that
the Indians were not likely to stay in the same place, and that none
of them would be looking for his return. This, together with the
prospect of securing something to satisfy his hunger, easily decided
the question. Within five minutes from the time the thought had
entered his head he was carefully picking his way down the
mountain-side toward the ravine.
Fred did not forget the precaution necessary in a movement of this
kind. He moved as silently as he could, pausing at intervals to look
and listen; but the way remained clear, and nothing occurred to excite
alarm until he had descended into the gorge itself.
At this precise juncture, he was startled by the sharp crack of a
rifle, which seemed to come from a point two or three hundred yards
away, directly behind him.
In his terror, his first fear was that the shot had been aimed at him,
and he started to retrace his steps--but before he went any distance,
he reflected that that could not be and he stood motionless for a few
minutes, waiting to see what would follow. All remained as quiet as
before, and, after a time, he resumed his cautious movement along the
ravine, keeping close to the side, and advancing on tip-toe, like a
thief in the night.
The further he got along, the more convinced did he become that he was
venturing upon a fool-hardy undertaking; but when he hesitated, his
hunger seemed to intensify and speedily impelled him forward again.
At the end of a half hour or so, he reached a point in the gorge which
he judged to be at the foot of where the camp-fire was, and he began
the more difficult and dangerous task of approaching that.
As upon the night before, there was a moon in the sky, but there were
also clouds, and the intervening rocks and stunted vegetation made the
light treacherous and uncertain. Shadows appeared here and there,
which looked like phantoms flitting back and forth, and which caused
many a start and stop upon the part of the young scout.
"I wonder where they have gone?" he said to himself fully a score of
times, as he picked his way over the broken land. "Those two Apaches
must have come back by this time, and I hope they knocked the other
one in the head for letting me get away. They must have been looking
for me, but I don't think they will hunt in _this_ place."
Fred had made his way but a short distance up the side of the
mountain, when he became assured that he was upon the right track.
Standing upon a lower plane and looking upward, he saw that the column
of smoke from the camp-fire was brought in relief against the sky
beyond. The vapor was of nearly the same rarity as the natural
atmosphere, and was almost stationary--a fact which also proved that
the fire from which it arose had not been replenished, as, in such a
case, a disturbance would have been produced that would have prevented
this stationary feature.
When the lad was within some fifty yards of the camp-fire, he
discovered that he was not nearly as hungry as he supposed, and, at
the same time, he began to suspect that he had entered upon a very
risky undertaking.
"I don't know how I came to do it," he said to himself, as he
hesitated. If there's a camp-fire in this part of the world, it must
have been kindled by Indians, and it's very likely that some of them
are hanging around, so that if I attempt to get too close, I'll tumble
right into their hands. I can wait till to-morrow for something to
eat, so I guess I'll go back."
But, curiously enough, he had scarcely started to act upon this
decision when he was tormented more than ever with hunger, and he
turned about with a desperate resolve.
"I won't stop again! I will go!"
As has been already intimated, the camp-fire, which had played such an
important part in the events of the afternoon had been started
immediately behind a large rock, the evident purpose being to mislead
the very ones who were decieved by it. Consequently, the boy could
not gain a fair view of it without making a detour to the right or
left, or by coming rather suddenly upon it from behind the rock. Just
then it was shut out entirely from view.
Fred stole along like a veritable Indian scout, until he was within
arms' length of the rock. Then he sank down upon his hands and knees,
and, making sure that he was enveloped in shadow, he crept forward,
with the utmost possible stealth, until at last he reached a point
where he had but to thrust his head forward around the corner, and the
camp-fire would be before him.
Here it was natural that he should pause awhile longer, for the very
crisis of this perilous task had been reached.
The silence remained as profound as the tomb. Not a rustle, not the
slightest sound, even such as would have been made by a sleeping
person--surely no one could be there. The camp-fire must be deserted
and all his precaution useless.
CHAPTER XVII
FORAGING FOR FOOD
Fred's fear was that if any of the Apaches were near at hand they
would hear the beating of his heart--so intense was his excitement and
anxiety. But delay seemed only to increase it, and, pressing close to
the corner, he removed his cap and stealthily shoved his head forward
until he could look along the other side.
At the first glance, he jerked back as if he had caught the flash of a
rifle aimed at him, for the sight that he gazed upon was startling
enough. Within ten feet of him sat an Indian warrior, his knees
gathered up, his back against the arch, and his head bowed as if in
slumber.
The lad's first supposition was that the redskin was waiting for him,
and had seen his head as it was thrust forward and drawn back again.
But, as he listened, there was no sound to betray any movement, and
when he recalled the terrifying picture that caught his eye, he
remembered that the face of the warrior was not turned toward him, so
that it was hardly to be supposed that he could have observed the
stealthy movement. By carefully considering the matter and reassuring
himself, Fred soon gained sufficient courage to repeat the attempt.
This time, after pushing his head forward enough to see the red-skin,
he held it motionless sufficiently long to take in the entire picture.
The first thing which impressed itself upon his mind was the fact that
the Indian was not an Apache, or at least, did not belong to the trio
which had had him in charge. His dress and make-up were altogether
different, and he clearly belonged to another tribe. The truth of it
was, he was a Kiowa, and his attitude was that of a sleeping person.
A dirty blanket was gathered about his shoulders, and his head, with
its straggling horse-hair covering, drooped so far forward that the
line of the face was at right angles with that of the chest. The
up-drawn knees were separated enough to permit a long, gleaming rifle
to rest between them, the barrel partly supported by the shoulder,
with the stock at his feet, while if the aquiline nose, clear cut
against the dim fire beyond, had descended three or four inches lower,
it would have been shut off from view by the same knees. The blanket
was thrown back far enough to reveal the body, legs and moccasins of
the warrior, which were those of a man of powerful frame and great
activity.
The camp-fire had smoldered as though it had not been replenished for
hours. Still it diffused a steady, subdued glow, from the other side
of the figure, as if the latter were stamped in ink, and the picture
was a striking one in every respect.
After Fred had scrutinized it a few minutes he gathered more courage
and took in the surroundings. These were not very extensive, but such
as they were, they were of a hopeful nature. Just in front of the
sleeping Indian were several objects lying upon the leaves, which he
was certain were the bones of some animal, most probably a deer or
buffalo.
"And if they are, there's meat upon them," was the consideration of
the lad, who smacked his lips in anticipation.
That might be, but how were they to be obtained? That was the
all-important question. It was not to be supposed that the most
skillful scout in the West could creep up to the feet of a sleeping
Kiowa and gather some food without an almost certainty of detection.
But for the fact that Fred was so hungry, nothing could have induced
him to make the attempt. As it was, he believed that he could
succeed. At any rate, he resolved that the attempt should be made.
"Maybe he'll wake up and turn over," reflected the boy, as he fixed
his eyes upon the Kiowa and watched him, like a cat waiting for a
mouse to come within its reach. "I wonder whether Indians snore,"
added Fred, a moment later. "I can't hear him breathe, and yet his
chest seems to rise and sink, just as regular as anybody's."
Some ten minutes' more waiting brought the boy to the second crisis in
his perilous undertaking. With another ejaculated prayer he crept out
from the rock, and moved toward the "feast," as he believed it to be.
He knew where the fragments lay, and, heading in that direction, he
moved carefully forward, while he kept his eyes fixed upon that
dreaded red-skin, who certainly seemed a remiss sentinel when in an
enemy's country. Only a few feet interposed, and these were speedily
passed over, and Fred stretched out his hand to lay it upon what
seemed the greatest prize of his life.
So, indeed, it proved.
The Kiowas, at some time during the day, had cooked some antelope meat
by that very campfire, and had scattered the remnants all round. The
first thing which Fred grasped was a bone, upon which still remained
considerable half-cooked meat. His hunger was so consuming at that
moment that, forgetful of the red-skin sitting so near, he began
knawing the bone like a famished dog.
Never did food taste sweeter and more delicious!
If the boy's jaws had been a little stronger, he would have crunched
up the bone also--but he cleaned it of its nutritious covering so
speedily and cleanly that it seemed as if done by some wonderful
machinery.
When he found that no more remained, he clawed about in the
semi-darkness for more and found it. Indeed, it looked very much as
if the Kiowas had left one of their rude meals prepared for some
expected visitors.
When fairly under way, Fred did not stop until he had fully sated his
appetite, and there proved to be enough to satisfy all his purpose.
Then, when he craved no more, he awoke to a keen realization of the
extremely perilous position in which he was placed.
"I had better dig out of here," was the thought that came to him, as
he glanced furtively at the motionless figure. "He doesn't see me
yet, but there is no telling how soon he will."
And now the extraordinary good fortune which had attended the boy up
to this time seemed to desert him. He had scarcely begun his return
to the cover of the rock, when he felt a sudden desire to sneeze
coming over him. He grasped his nose, in the hope of checking it--but
it only made matters worse, and the explosion which instantly followed
was twice as great as it would have been otherwise.
Poor Fred was in despair!
He felt that it was all over, and he was powerless to move. He was
like one overtaken by a dreadful nightmare, when he finds himself
unable to escape some appalling evil that is settling down upon him.
He turned, with a despairing glance, to the red-skin, expecting to see
the glitter of his tomahawk or knife as it descended.
The warrior did not stir! Could Indian sleep so sound?
Surely not, and the boy just then recalled the fate of the sentinel
Thompson, a couple of nights before.
"I believe he is dead," he muttered, looking attentively toward him,
and feeling a speedy return of his courage.
With a lingering fear and doubt besetting him, he crept around the
corner of the rock, taking one of the bones as he did so, and, when in
position, he gave it such a toss that it dropped directly upon the
head of the unconscious red man.
This was not a very prudent way of learning whether a man was sleeping
temporially or eternally, when so much depended upon the decision of
the question, for, if he were only taking a nap, he would be certain
to resent the taking of any such liberties with his person. The test,
however, was effectual. The bone struck his bead, and glanced as
though it had fallen against the surface of a rock, and Fred could no
longer doubt that the red-skin had been slain while sitting in this
very attitude by the fire.
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