THE ENCOUNTER.
SUFFICIENT has been told to show that Eph Bozeman’s stealthy approach
to the mission building was attended by one stirring incident, if not
more.
Leaving his comrades on the crest of the elevation, he strode forward
at a rapid pace, until he had passed most of the intervening distance.
Then he slackened his gait and crouched low, his body bent, until he
resembled a person gathering himself for a powerful leap. This was his
favorite posture when engaged upon such dangerous business, and he kept
it until prudence told him there was too great a risk attending it.
His object was to defer creeping to the last moment, since his progress
must become slower, but he was too much of a veteran to allow the
question of convenience to detract from his vigilance.
At the point he had fixed in his mind he sank to the ground, and began
using his hands and knees, not the most agreeable form of locomotion,
since, as will be remembered, he carried his heavy rifle with him.
As yet he had seen and heard nothing of the Apaches, but believed a
brush with them was inevitable before he could enter the building. He
reasoned that since they knew of the presence of the white men inside,
and were unaware of the others outside, they would devote themselves to
circling about the structure, and maintaining a sharp lookout that none
of the occupants got away during the night. The prospect of adding two
or three more victims to the long list of massacres they had committed
in the Southwest was too tempting to be passed by, until all prospect
of success was gone.
The trapper’s belief was that the warriors would remain mounted, though
he was too experienced to guide his own movements upon that theory
alone.
So long as he kept his position close to the earth, he could discover
the approach of a horseman before the latter saw him, to say nothing
of the slight noise of the pony’s hoofs, which was sure to betray him.
Twice he caught the latter sound, and ceasing his progress lay flat,
listening and peering around in the gloom; but the riders did not come
nigh enough for him to discern them; and after a brief wait he resumed
his slow and laborious progress.
From what had taken place, he was absolutely certain that the Apaches
had no suspicion that any whites were near the building. It followed
therefore that no precaution had been taken against his approach, but
they were vigilant enough to demand all the subtlety he possessed.
He was creeping forward in his guarded manner when, without the least
warning, he saw the outlines of a figure in front, which, although
dimly observed, he knew was one of the Apaches.
The trapper sank down again, with his keen eyes fixed on the warrior,
who was standing with his back toward him, apparently studying the
ground in the direction of the building, which was too far off to be
seen, since Eph himself could not catch the most shadowy outlines of it.
Since the Apache had not observed the white man, there was no cause why
he should do so, unless accident should lead him to face about. Without
waiting a moment Eph began retreating, keeping his gaze on the redskin,
who faded almost from view in the gloom.
Then the trapper turned to the right and resumed his advance toward the
building. Time was too valuable to wait for the Indian to shift his
position, which, as likely as not, would prove unfavorable.
The flank movement was so regulated that he kept his enemy dimly in
sight, for he did not mean to be surprised by any sudden action on his
part.
All this was well enough, but the Apache overthrew the whole scheme by
an unexpected movement.
The trapper was on his right, and a couple of rods distant, when the
warrior seemed to conclude that it was time for him to do something.
He stepped off at his usual pace, which would have carried him speedily
beyond sight had Eph been somewhere else, but unfortunately he moved
straight toward the old hunter.
To retreat or advance would have been certain betrayal, and Eph did not
attempt it. Instead, he silently drew his pistol and grasped it, ready
for firing.
The Apache had no thought of anything of this kind, but he had taken
less than three paces, when he discovered the figure on the earth in
front of him. He uttered no outcry, but stopped and placed his hand at
his waist, as if to draw a weapon therefrom. He, too, carried a gun,
most likely a Winchester, and was expert in its use. He had no blanket,
his body being bare above the waist, and his long, coarse hair dangled
about his shoulders. He was much shorter and smaller in every way than
the white man, but every ounce of his body was like that of a tiger.
The Indian might have brought instant help by a signal, but to do that
would have been a confession that he was afraid to attack a single
individual, and the warrior “wasn’t that sort of a fellow.”
His pause was only momentary. He stooped down like an animal about to
leap across a chasm and the trapper caught a movement of his right
hand, which convinced him the warrior had drawn a knife and meant to
spring upon him.
Eph’s revolver was leveled at the savage, who was still stealing
forward when a single chamber was discharged. The shot was unerring,
and (what was singular in the case of an American Indian) he sank
downward without any outcry.
The trapper needed no one to tell him what next to do. He knew the
report of his weapon would bring nearly if not all the other Apaches to
the spot, and he could not get away too soon. Springing to his feet,
he loped swiftly toward the building, never pausing until he stood in
front of the broad door.
He glanced keenly to the right and left while making this run, but
though he heard the sounds of hoofs, he saw none of the raiders eager
for the chance to cut him down.
Within a half minute after the shot was fired an Apache reached the
spot on his pony, and was quickly joined by five others, all mounted.
The prostrate figure told the story, but the author of their comrade’s
death was gone.
While one of them lifted the inanimate figure upon his steed, the
others separated to find the white man who had slain him. They did
this with rare skill, but they were misled from the start. Knowing
nothing of those outside the building, their supposition must have
been that one of them had stolen out of the structure and gained this
point before discovery. It was not to be supposed that he was striving
to enter instead of leave the place, and they therefore widened the
circle, when they should have contracted it.