Books: In the Pecos Country
L >>
Lieutenant R.H. Jayne >> In the Pecos Country
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 | 8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13
The instant the brute left his station, Fred reached down, seized the
muzzle of his gun, and drew it up. Then he made his way some twenty
feet above, where he could feel secure against any daring leap from
his foe. He had scarcely perched himself in this position, when the
bay of the wolf was answered from fully a dozen different directions.
He had called to his comrades, and their replies came from every point
of the compass--the same rumbling, hoarse, wailing howls that had
notified them where a prize awaited them. A minute later, the brute
trotted back to his place, where he sat down until the arrival of
reinforcements.
"It isn't one wolf, but a hundred, that going to besiege me!" gasped
the terrified boy.
He spoke the truth.
CHAPTER XXI
A TERRIBLE NIGHT
The prospect of being besieged all night in a tree by a pack of
mountain wolves was not a pleasant one by any means, and Fred, who had
climbed up among the branches with the object of securing a few hours'
slumber, found little chance of closing his eyes for even a minute.
"It might have been worse," he reflected, as he listened to the dismal
howling, "for if they had happened to come down upon me when I was
walking along the ravine, I could n't have gotten into any place like
this in time to save me. Wolves don't know how to climb trees, and so
long as I stay here I'm all right; but I can't stay here forever."
By-and-by there was a sharp pattering upon the ground, and then the
hoarse howling changed to quick, dog-like yelps, such as these animals
emit when leaping down upon their prey, and which may be supposed to
mean exultation.
Fred came down sufficiently far from his perch to get a glimpse of the
ground beneath. He saw nearly a score of huge mountain wolves,
bounding hither and thither, and over each other, and back and forth,
as though going through some preliminary exercise, so as to prepare
themselves for the feast that was soon to be theirs.
"If I was down there," thought the boy, with a shudder, "I suppose I'd
last them about two minutes, and then they'd be hungrier than ever.
They'll stay there all night, but I wonder if they'll go away in the
morning. If they don't, I can't tell what's to become of me."
He watched them awhile with a lingering fear that some of them might
manage to get among the branches, but they did not make the attempt.
They had sufficient dexterity to leap from the ground up among the
lowermost limbs, but had no power of retaining their position, or
doing anything after they got there.
Nature had unfitted them for such work, and they did not try it. They
seemed to possess tireless activity, and they kept up their leaping
and frolicing as though they had nothing else in the world to do.
After watching them until he was tired, Fred carefully climbed up
among the branches again, where he secured himself as firmly as was
possible. He had lain his rifle across a couple of limbs above his
head, and fixed upon a place within a dozen feet or so of the top, as
the one offering the best support.
Here two or three limbs were gnarled and twisted in such a way that he
could seat himself and arrange his body in such a way that he could
have enjoyed a night's slumber with as much refreshment as if
stretched out upon a blanket on the ground. But the serenade below
was not calculated to soothe his nerves into soft, downy sleep, and he
shuddered at the thought of sitting where he was for four or five
hours, with the pattering feet below him, varied by a yelp or howl,
when he should feel disposed to close his eyes.
"But, then, it can't be helped," he added to himself, endeavoring to
look philosophically at the matter. "I ought to be thankful that they
didn't catch me before I reached the tree, and so I am; and I would be
very thankful, too, if they would go away and leave me alone. I've
got a bed here twice as good as I expected to find, and could sleep as
well as anywhere else."
Almost any sound long continued becomes monotonous, and thus it was
that scarcely a half-hour had passed when, in spite of the dreadful
beasts below, his eyes began to grow heavy and his head to droop.
But at this juncture he received a terrible shock. Just as everything
was becoming dreamy and unreal, he was startled by a jarring of the
tree, as though struck with some heavy object. When it was repeated
several times, his senses returned to him, and he raised his head and
listened.
"I wonder what that can be?" he said to himself. "Is some one hitting
the tree? No, it isn't that."
It seemed not so much a jarring of the trunk as a swaying of the whole
tree.
Puzzled and alarmed, Fred drew his legs from their rather cramped
position, and picked his way downward among the limbs until he had
descended far enough to inform himself.
"Heaven save me! they're in the tree!" he gasped, paralyzed for the
moment with terror.
In one sense, such was the case. The frolicsome wolves had varied
their amusement by springing upward among the lowermost branches. A
brute would make a jump, and, landing upon the limb, sustain himself
until one or two of his comrades imitated his performance, when they
would all come tumbling to the ground.
Thus, it may be said, they were climbing the tree, but they were
scarcely in it when they were out of it again, and Fred had nothing to
fear from that source.
In his fright, he hastily clambered back again after his rifle, with
the intention of shooting the one that was nearest, but by the time he
laid his hand upon the weapon his terror had lessened so much that he
concluded to wait until assured that it was necessary. And a few
minutes' waiting convinced him that he had nothing to fear from that
source. It was only another phase of the hilarious fun they were
keeping up for their own amusement.
"I guess I'll try it again," concluded Fred, as he proceeded to stow
his arms and legs into position for the nap which he came so near
commencing a few minutes before.
He did not consider it within the range of possibility that he could
unconsciously displace his limbs during sleep sufficiently to permit
him to fall.
He heard the yelping and occasional baying below, the rustling among
the limbs, and the undulation caused by the animals leaping upward
among the branches; but they ceased to disturb him after a time, and
became like the sound of falling water in the ears of the hunter by
his camp-fire. It was not long before slumber stole away his senses,
and he slept.
A healthful boy generally sleeps well, and is untroubled by dreams,
unless he has been indulging in some indiscretion in the way of diet,
but the stirring scenes of the last few days were so impressed upon
the mind of Fred that they reappeared in his visions of night, as he
lived them all over again. He was again standing in the silent wood
along the Rio Pecos, with Mickey O'Rooney, watching for the stealthy
approach of the Apaches. As time passed, he saw the excited figure of
Sut Simpson the scout, as he came thundering over the prairie, with
his warning cry of the approach of the red-skins. The rattling fight
in front of the young settlement, the repulse of the Apaches, the
swoop of Lone Wolf and the lad's capture, the night ride, the
encampment among the mountains, his own singular escape, and, finally,
his siege by the mountain wolves--all these passed through the mind of
the sleeping lad, and finally settled down to a hand-to-hand fight
with the leader of the brutes.
Fred fancied that the two had met in the ravine, and, clubbing his
gun, he whacked the beast over his head every time he leaped at him.
He struck him royal, resounding blows, too, but, somehow or other,
they failed to produce any effect. The wolf kept coming and coming
again, until, at last, the boy concluded he would wind up the bout by
jumping upon, and throwing him down, and then deliberately choking him
to death.
He made the jump, and awakening instantly, found he had leaped "out of
bed," and was falling downward through the limbs. It all flashed upon
the lad with the suddenness of lightning.
He remembered the ravenous wolves, and, with a shuddering horror which
cannot be pictured or imagined, felt that he was dropping directly
into their fangs. It was the instinct of nature which caused him to
throw out his feet and hands in the hope of checking his fall.
By a hair's breadth he succeeded. But it was nearly the lowermost
limb which he grasped with his desperate clutch, and hung with his
arms dangling within reach of the wolves below.
The famished brutes seemed to be expecting this choice tid-bit to drop
into their maws, and their yelps and howls became wilder than ever,
and they nearly broke each other's necks in their furious frolicing
back and forth.
The moment young Munson succeeded in checking himself, he made a quick
effort to draw up his feet and regain his place beyond the reach of
the brutes. It was done in a twinkling, but not soon enough to escape
one of the creatures, which made a leap and fastened upon his foot.
The lad was just twisting himself over the limb, when he felt one of
his shoes seized in the jaws of a wolf. The sudden addition to his
weight drew him down again, and almost jerked his hold from the limb,
in which event he would have been snapped up and disposed of before he
could have made a struggle in the way of resistance. But he held on,
and with an unnatural spasm of strength, drew himself and the clogging
weight part way up, kicking both feet with the fury of despair.
The wolf held fast to one shoe, while the heel of the other was jammed
into his eyes. This, however, would not have dislodged him, had not
his own comrades interfered, and defeated the brute by their own eager
greediness. Seeing that the first one had fastened to the prize, a
half-dozen of them began leaping upward with the purpose of securing a
share in the same. In this way they got into each other's way, and
all came tumbling to the ground in a heap.
Before they could repeat the performance the terrified lad was a dozen
feet beyond their reach, and climbing still higher.
When Fred reached his former perch, he was in doubt whether he should
halt or go still higher. His heart was throbbing violently, and he
was white and panting from the frightful shock he had received.
"That was awful!" he gasped, as he reflected upon what had taken
place. "I don't know what saved me from death! Yes, I do; it was
God!" he added, looking up through the leaves to the clear, moonlit
sky above him. "He has brought me through a good many dangers, and He
will not forsake me."
After such an experience, it was impossible that sleep should return
to the eyes of the lad. He resumed his old perch, but only because it
was the most comfortable. Had he believed that there was a
possibility of slumber, he would have fought it off, but there was
not.
"I'll wait here till morning," he said to himself. "It must be close
at hand; and then, maybe, they will go away."
He looked longingly for some sign of the breaking of day, but the
moonlight, for a long time, was unrelieved by the rose-flush of the
morning.
CHAPTER XXII
LOST
Following the escape of their human victim, the wolves had maintained
a frightful and most discordant howling, as if angered beyond
expression at the style in which they had been baffled of their prey.
The lad sat listening to this, when suddenly it ceased. Silence from
each beast came as completely and simultaneously as if they were
members of an orchestra subject to the wand of such an enchanter as
Theodore Thomas. What could it be?
For the space ot two or three minutes the silence remained as profound
as that of the tomb, and then there came a rush and patter, made by
the wolves as they fled pell-mell.
At first sight this seemed a reason for congratulation in getting rid
of such unwelcome company; but Fred saw in it more cause for alarm.
Very evidently the creatures would not have left the spot in such a
hurry unless they were frightened away by some wild animal more to be
dreaded than themselves.
"I'm afraid I'll have to use my rifle," he thought, as he moved softly
downward until he reached a point from which he could see anything
that passed beneath. "It's pretty rough to have to fire a fellow's
last shot, when he's likely to starve to death for it; but a beast
that can scare away a pack of wolves is likely to be one that will
take a well-aimed bullet to stop---"
This train of thought was abruptly checked by a sight which almost
paralyzed him. He could dimly discern the ground beneath, and he was
watching and listening when a large figure came to view, and halted
directly beneath him, where the first wolf had sat upon his haunches
and looked so longingly upward.
No noise could be heard and it seemed to move like a phantom; but,
even in the gloom, the peculiar swinging motion of the body showed
prodigious strength and activity. There could be no doubt, either,
that the animal was a climber, and therefore more to be feared than a
thousand wolves.
Fred had gained quite a knowledge of the animals of the country on his
way across the plains, and in the indistinct view obtained he made up
his mind that this was that most dangerous of wild beasts in the
Southwest, the American cougar. If such were the case, the lad's only
defense lay in the single charge of his rifle. The cougar could leap
among the limbs as easily as a cat bounds from the floor into the
chair.
Fred had left his rifle beyond his reach, and he was about to climb up
to it, when the possibility occurred to him that, perhaps, the cougar
was not aware that any one was in the tree, and, if unmolested might
pass by. Accordingly, the fugitive remained as motionless as a
statue, his eyes fixed upon the dreaded brute, ready to make for his
gun the instant the cougar showed any sign of making for him.
The animal, known in some parts of the country as the panther, or
"painter," remained equally motionless. It looked precisely as if he
suspected that something was in the wind and had slipped up to this
point to listen for some evidence of what it was. Fred, who had heard
fabulous stories of the "smelling" powers of all wild animals, feared
that the cougar would scent him out, but he showed no evidence of his
ability to do so.
After remaining stationary a minute or two, he moved forward a couple
of steps, and then paused as before. The lad was fearful that this
was an indication that he had detected his presence in the tree and
was about to make his leap; but, preliminary to doing so, all such
animals squat upon their haunches, and pick out a perch at which to
aim. This he had not done, and the boy waited for it before changing
his own position.
The head of the cougar was close to the trunk of the tree, and he had
maintained the attitude hut a few seconds when he started forward
again and continued until he vanished from view.
"I hope he is gone," was the wish that came to Fred, as he peered
through the leaves, in his effort to catch a glimpse of him.
But the intervening leaves prevented, and he saw him no more.
He remained where he was for some time, on the look-out for the beast,
but finally climbed back to his former place, where his gun was within
reach, and where he disposed of himself as comfortably as possible.
In less than ten minutes thereafter, the whole pack of wolves were
back again. The cougar had departed, and they returned to claim their
breakfast. They were somewhat less demonstrative in their manner, as
though they did not wish to bring the panther back again.
They were scarcely upon the ground, however, when Fred noticed that it
was growing light in the east. The long, terrible night, the most
dreadful of his life, was about over, and he welcomed the coming day
as the shipwrecked mariner does the approach of the friendly sail.
The light rapidly increased, and in a short time the sun itself
appeared, driving the darkness from the mountain and bathing all in
its rosy hues.
The wolves seemed to dread its coming somewhat as they did that of the
cougar. By the time the morning was fairly upon them, one of them
slunk away. Another speedily followed, and it soon became a stampede.
Fred waited awhile, and then peered out. Not a wolf was to be seen,
and he concluded it was safe to descend.
He made several careful surveys of his surroundings before trusting
his feet on solid ground again. When he found himself there he
grasped his rifle firmly, half expecting the formidable cougar to
pounce upon him from some hiding-place; but everything remained quiet,
and he finally ventured to move off toward the eastward, feeling quite
nervous until he had gone a couple of hundred yards, and was given
some assurance that no wild beasts held him in sight.
Now that the lad had some opportunity to gather his wits, he paused to
consider what was best to do, for with the coming of daylight came the
necessity for serious work. His disposition was to return to the
ravine, which he had left for the purpose of seeking a sleeping-place,
and to press homeward as rapidly as possible. There was no time to be
lost, for many a long and wearisome mile lay between him and New
Boston.
As was natural, Fred was hungry again, but he resolved to make no
attempt to secure food until night-fall, and to spend the intervening
time in traveling. Of course, if a camp-fire should come in his way,
where he was likely to find any remnants of food, he did not intend to
pass it by; but his wish was to improve the day while it lasted. By
taking to the ravine again, he entered upon the Apache highway, where
he was likely, at any moment, and especially at the sharp turns, to
come in collision with the red men, but the advantage was too great to
overlook, and he hoped by the exercise of unusual care to keep out of
all such peril.
He was on the margin of the plateau, and before returning to the gorge
he thought it best to venture upon a little exploration of his own.
Possibly he might stumble upon some narrower pass, one unfit for
horses, which would afford him a chance of getting out of the
mountains without the great risk of meeting his old enemies.
For a short distance, the way was so broken that his progress was
slow. He found himself clambering up a ledge of rocks, then he was
forced to make his way around some massive boulders, and in picking
his way along a steep place, the gravelly earth gave way beneath his
weight, and he slid fully a hundred feet before he could check
himself. His descent was so gradual that he was not bruised in the
slightest, but he was nearly buried beneath the gravel and dirt that
came rattling down after him.
"I wish I could travel all the way home that way," he laughed, as he
picked himself up. "I would soon get there, and wouldn't have to work
very hard, either."
But this was not very profitable work, and when he had quaffed his
fill from a small rivulet of icy-cold water, he was conscious of the
importance of going forward without any further delay.
"I guess the best thing I can do is to get back in that ravine or pass
without any more foolery. It looks as though the way was open ahead
yonder."
It was useless to attempt to retrace his steps, for it was impossible
to climb up that incline, which came so near burying him out of sight,
so he moved forward, with rocks all around him--right, left, in the
rear, and in the front. There was considerable stunted vegetation,
also, and, as the day was quite warm, and no wind could reach him, he
found the labor of traveling with a heavy rifle anything but fun.
Still, he had no thought of giving up, or even halting to rest, so
long as his strength held out, and he kept it up until he concluded
that it was about time that he reached the ravine for which he aimed
from the first.
"It must be right ahead, yonder," he said, after pausing to survey his
surroundings. "I've kept going toward it ever since I picked myself
up, and I know I wasn't very far away."
He had been steadily ascending for a half hour, and he believed that
he had nearly reached the level upon which he had spent the night.
His view was so shut in by the character of his surroundings, that he
could recognize nothing, and he was compelled, therefore, to depend
upon his own sagacity.
Fred had enough wit to take every precaution against going astray, for
he had learned long since how liable any one in his circumstances was
to make such a blunder. He fixed the position of the sun with regard
to the ravine, and as the orb was only a short distance above the
horizon, he was confident of keeping his "reckoning."
"That's mighty strange!" he exclaimed, when, having climbed up the
place he had fixed in his mind, he looked over and found nothing but a
broken country beyond. "There is n't anything there that looks like
the pass I'm looking for."
He took note of the position of the sun, and then carefully recalled
the direction of the ravine with regard to that, and he could discover
no error in the course which he had followed. According to the
reasoning of common sense, he ought to strike it at right angles. But
just then he recalled that the gorge did not follow a straight line.
Had it done so, he would have succeeded in what he had undertaken, but
it was otherwise, and so he failed.
"I'll try a little more."
With no little labor, he climbed to an eminence a short distance away,
where he hoped to gain a glimpse of the promised land; but the most
studied scrutiny failed to show anything resembling the pass.
"I'm lost!" he exclaimed, in despair.
CHAPTER XXIII
A PERILOUS PASSAGE
Fred Munson was right. In his efforts to regain the pass by which he
had entered the mountains, he had gone astray, and he knew no more in
what direction to turn than if he had dropped from the moon. The sun
was now well up above the horizon, and he not only had the
mortification of feeling that he had lost much precious time, but that
he was likely to lose much more.
With the feeling of disappointment came that of hunger, and he
questioned himself as to how he was likely to obtain that with which
to stave off the pangs of hunger.
"There isn't any use of staying here," he exclaimed, desperately,
"unless I want to lie down and die, and I ain't quite ready for that
yet. It is pretty sure the ravine ain't straight ahead, so it must be
more to one side."
And, acting upon this conclusion, he made quite a change in the
direction he was pursuing, moving off to the left, and encouraging
himself with the fact that the pass must be somewhere, and he had only
to persevere in exploring each point of the compass to reach it at
last. His route continued as precipitous and difficult as before, and
it was not long before the plague of thirst became greater than that
of hunger. But he persevered, hopeful that his wearisome wandering
would soon end.
"Halloa! Here I am again."
This exclamation was caused by the sudden arrival upon the edge of a
ravine, which, on first thought, he supposed to be the very one for
which he was making. But a second glance convinced him of his error,
for it was nothing more than a yawn, or chasm, that had probably been
opened in the mountains by some great convulsion of nature.
Making his way carefully to the edge, Fred saw that it had a varying
depth of fifty to two hundred feet, and a width from a dozen yards to
three times as much, its length seemingly too great to be "gone round"
by an ordinary traveler. And yet, finding himself confronted by such
a chasm, it was perhaps natural that the lad should become more fully
pursuaded than ever of the absolute necessity of placing himself upon
the opposite side. The more he thought upon it the more convinced did
he become, until his disire of passing over became a wild sort of
eagerness that would not let him rest.
"I don't believe the pass is more than a hundred yards from the other
side, and the two must run nearly parallel, so I am bound to get over
in some way."
In the hope that some narrow portion might be found, he made his way
with great care along the margin, until fully an hour had been spent
in this manner, with a result that could not be called very
satisfactory.
"If I could jump about three times as far as I can, I could go across
right yonder--helloa! why did n't I notice that before?"
And the words were yet in his mouth, when he started on a run along
the margin of the ravine, at the imminent risk of falling in and
breaking his neck. He had espied not only a narrower portion of the
ravine, but what seemed to be a fallen tree extending from one side to
the other.
If such were really the case, what more could he need? He had thought
over this matter of the pass being upon the other side, until no doubt
at all remained in his mind, and now the discovery that the chasm was
bridged caused the strongest rebound from discouragement to hope.
Upon reaching the bridge, he found that it answered his purpose
admirably. The width was less than ten yards, although the depth was
enough to make him shudder, when he peered down into it.
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 | 8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13