A DESPERATE SITUATION.
For once Billie was perfectly willing that his chum should undertake to
do all the talking. He felt himself that he might not be equal to such a
tremendous undertaking as handling this job. And he had perfect
confidence in Adrian, who always managed to keep his wits about him
under the most exciting conditions.
Indeed, it looked as though they were close upon the edge of serious
trouble. That aroused old wizard of the Zunis was bearing down upon the
little camp among the rocks like a pirate craft under a full spread of
canvas. While his "get-up" was of such a character that he always
impressed Billie as a "holy terror," according to the boy's way of
expressing it, still right then and there he had such a black and
forbidding look on his face that he seemed doubly ferocious.
No wonder the old wizard was furious, when his most highly prized
possession, the Sacred Belt, said to have come down direct to him from
the Great Manitou of the Zunis, and looked upon with the highest
veneration and awe by every member of the tribe, had mysteriously
disappeared.
He knew full well that no Zuni, young or old, could be induced to take
one step inside the magic confines of the stone house which he used as
his quarters; for they believed that instant death would follow such a
daring move.
Hence, it was quite patent that only a reckless paleface, who had no
such dread of the necromancer's power, must have entered, to carry away
the precious possession.
And if, as seemed probable, he had learned that one of the white boys
had been seen prowling around in the vicinity of his den, and acting in
a suspicious manner, what more likely than that he would turn out to be
the guilty party?
The group, native and white combined, bore down rapidly on the little
camp. Adrian braced himself to handle the situation properly. He did not
wish to do the slightest thing to incur the enmity of the Zuni people,
for the boys were really their guests. At the same time he did not mean
to be driven to the wall, and not put out a hand to defend himself and
chum.
It was naturally toward the make-believe showman and his ally that the
anger of the Broncho Rider Boy was turned. Only for this desire on the
part of Braddon to have them chased out of the Zuni country, so that he
could work his evil scheme, and profit thereby, at the expense of the
poor natives, there would have been no trouble whatever.
And so Adrian set his teeth together, inwardly resolving that if
circumstances did compel him to make use of the weapon he was gripping
in his steady hands, it would be turned upon the showman the first
thing.
Perhaps Mark Braddon realized something to this effect. That would
account for his gradually falling back as he ran, allowing the others to
outstrip him in the race. Adrian believed him to be as cunning as he was
bold, and that was saying a good deal.
But now the medicine man and the three Zuni braves who accompanied him
were close to the tent, and still coming under "full steam," as Billie
muttered to himself, while crouching there, nervously handling his
Marlin, as he waited the rush of events.
Adrian threw up his gun. At the same time he made an imperious gesture
with his hand that could not be misunderstood.
He knew that the old medicine man could speak English almost as well as
the chief of the tribe. Intercourse with the whites for all these years,
with visitors frequently stopping over for days at a time to study the
interesting ways of the Zuni people, had brought this about.
Besides, unless Adrian had been misinformed, the Witch Doctor had been
away from his home in the desert on several occasions; and while his
people believed he was at these times holding an extended audience with
the Manitou, deep in the heart of the Sacred Mountain, Donald and
Adrian, on talking it over, had come to the conclusion that the
keen-witted old fraud may have been visiting civilization, to see for
himself some of the wonderful things of which these white pilgrims had
told the Zunis.
"Stop!" said Adrian; and singularly enough they all came to a
standstill, just forty feet or so on the other side of the lone tent;
because there was something commanding in both the voice and gesture of
the white boy.
Besides, those two rifles looked more or less ready for business; and it
is well known that firearms may be as dangerous in the hands of boys, as
when grown men possess them.
"Now, tell me what all this means, Pick-ne-quan-to?" called out Adrian,
purposely making use of the Indian name by which the medicine man was
known, and which doubtless had more or less to do with his strange
calling as a magician.
Thereupon the medicine man drew himself up, and restraining his anger as
much as possible, he answered with great deliberation:
"From the lodge of Pick-ne-quan-to has the wonderful Sacred Belt been
taken. No Zuni would brave the wrath of Manitou by touching the gift of
the Great Spirit. It has been said that one of the paleface boys was
seen near by. I have come to demand that the Sacred Belt be restored
again to my keeping. And if this is done the white boys shall be allowed
to depart in peace; but before another night; for if they stay after
darkness comes again even the power of Pick-ne-quan-to could not save
them from the vengeance of the warriors, who would seek the blood of the
foolish ones. I have spoken."
"But we did not take your Sacred Belt; and not one of us has ever been
inside the lodge of Pick-ne-quan-to!" urged Adrian; who was trying to
gain precious minutes of time, for as yet he could see no sign of Donald
coming with the old chief to save the day.
The medicine man shrugged his shoulders at this. Doubtless he fully
expected to hear a flat denial; Braddon may even have hinted that the
boys would vehemently declare they had never set eyes on the stolen
article; but that a search of their belongings might bring it to light.
"The white boy may say that, and yet how do we know he does not speak
with a forked tongue, like the Little Father of the rattles? Will he let
us enter his tent and see for ourselves?" the medicine man went on to
say, doubtless following out a suggestion from Braddon, who hovered
close to his elbow.
"We are willing that Pick-ne-quan-to and one of his braves enter, and
search our tent, but not the white men," answered Adrian, boldly. "We do
not trust them, and if they try to pass in, it will be bad for them, for
we will shoot, and straight."
A hoarse laugh that jarred on the ears answered him.
"Don't worry about us, youngster," called Braddon; "we're ready enough
to let the Indians do the searching. Then they'll believe what their
eyes show them."
He then said something in a low tone to the medicine man. Perhaps he was
telling him to be sure and turn over the skins that lay upon the floor
of the tent, since it was evident that if they had stolen the Sacred
Belt the white boys would have been cunning enough to hide the same. And
it was under these that Donald had discovered the strange object, one
end of it being partly uncovered by a lucky chance.
So the two Zunis, the medicine man and a brave whom he selected,
advanced eagerly, and vanished inside the tent.
They could be heard moving hastily around there, and evidently tossing
the contents this way and that in their endeavor to locate the missing
object.
Those without listened with vastly different emotions. The two boys were
quite satisfied that nothing would result from this raid on their
property; because, did they not know for a surety that the Sacred Belt
had been carried away, concealed on the person of their chum, Donald;
and that ere now it must be in the possession of the old chief himself,
to whom was being told the whole story of the amazing duplicity of the
pretended showman, who was only a thief in disguise, and planning to rob
the Zuni people?
As for Braddon himself, it was hard for him to repress the triumphant
grin that would force itself upon his dark face. He believed positively
that the belt must be quickly discovered, and that his end would have
been accomplished when the three Broncho Rider Boys were chased out of
Zuni-land in disgrace, with such an angry crowd threatening them that
they must needs hurry all they could to place many miles between
themselves and the excited populace of the village.
As the seconds crept into minutes, and there was no loud shout of
discovery made from within the tent Braddon began to manifest signs of
uneasiness.
What if after all his ally had hidden the belt so securely that it could
not be found? Adrian, watching closely, even saw the showman turn toward
his companion and hastily say something; it must have been in the nature
of a question concerning the place where the stolen belt had been
secreted in the tent, for the younger scoundrel nodded back, and made a
reply that gave Braddon comfort for another minute.
But this could not last much longer. Evidently those inside the tent had
exhausted their resources, without finding anything worth while; for
just then they came dejectedly out, the medicine man looking blacker
than ever.
"What's all this?" roared Braddon, so surprised that for the moment he
forgot his caution; "do you mean to say you haven't found the belt? Did
you look everywhere--under the skins on the ground, and in their bags?
Ten to one my friend here would find it, if only you made them let him
go back with you. Nothing escapes his eagle eye. Tell them that,
Pick-ne-quan-to; make them let him accompany you! The belt must be
found, and there is no more likely hiding-place than in the tent of
these paleface boys, who have been prowling around your lodge so much!"
This sounded like good logic to the medicine man. When his powers failed
why should he not take advantage of those belonging to another? If one
of the white men were allowed to accompany him back into the tent, three
pair of eyes might be better than two. He would demand that this be
done. If the white boys still refused would it not look as though they
were guilty, and that they feared lest the keen eyes of a paleface see
through their trick?
And so, filled with this new determination, he turned toward the spot
where Adrian and Billie stood, with their guns still pointed towards the
party.
"You have heard what my white brother has said, and why should not his
companion go with Pick-ne-quan-to into the tent, to look once more? The
paleface boys do not dare refuse. If they say it must not be, then will
the Zunis make them prisoners; and after that even the hand of the
medicine man might not be able to save the despoilers of the Sacred Belt
from the vengeance of the furious tribe."