CHAPTER XVI—A MOUNTAIN LION

Reuben was aware that if he permitted his pony to run, the beast would

instantly pursue him. He knew also that it would not be long before the

mountain lion would overtake the fleeing pony. As long as he moved

slowly, he had been frequently informed by his companions, a lion,

though it might creep close upon his trail, would not be likely to

attack him. On the other hand, if he should show his fear by flight the

courage of the lion instantly would be strengthened and it would follow

and attack any man or animal that fled in this way from his presence.

The snorting and trembling of the pony he was riding were pitiful. The

flanks of the swift little animal already were wet, and its eyes were

rolling and bloodshot with terror. By a supreme effort, however, Reuben

succeeded in bringing the pony to a walk, and though there were moments

when his mount was so terrified that it almost crouched upon the

ground, still he was able to prevent it from running. It was impossible

now for the boy to reload his gun. The actions of the pony prevented

him from holding his rifle sufficiently quiet to enable him to ram home

the bullet.

Occasionally Reuben glanced behind him, and he was aware that the one

long leap forward which the mountain lion had taken when the pony had

first darted ahead had given place to a more wary and careful approach.

The savage beast was creeping along the ground. For several yards it

would advance in this crouching manner, and then when Reuben looked

behind him it would leap back into the bushes or seek the shelter of

some huge crag.

Reuben was carrying his rifle in his hands, ready to defend himself if

the beast should leap upon the flanks of his pony. The lion was now not

more than thirty feet behind him, and why it did not attack him the

young trapper was at a loss to understand.

Reuben glanced anxiously at the sky, and his fears increased when he

discovered that already the afternoon sun was below the rim of the

mountain. Darkness would soon approach and would come, as he was aware,

after the manner of the sunset among the towering mountains. Usually

there was only a brief period of twilight. The day abruptly ceased and

night with equal abruptness swept over the land. Confident that his

perils would be greatly increased with the coming of night, Reuben was

at a loss how he was to prevent the lion from following him, until in

the darkness in some narrow defile it would leap upon its victim.

Again he glanced behind him at the beast, which now was motionless,

crouched as if it had been a cat ready to spring upon a helpless and

unsuspecting bird. A moment later, however, he saw it leap gracefully

into the bushes and disappear from sight.

The young trapper was still compelling his horse to walk. His arms were

aching from the strain of the pull upon the bridle, and he was nearly

as wet as the horse he was riding. Several times he glanced back, but

the pursuing mountain lion was not to be seen. Could it be possible

that the beast had abandoned the pursuit?

The attitude of the animal when last it had been seen was not such as

to convince Reuben that there was any ground for such a hope. Suddenly

he recalled a statement he had heard made by Kit Carson. One time when

the young scout had been relating an experience which he had had with

one of the savage mountain lions, he had told how the beast after

following its victim for a considerable distance, sometimes disappeared

within the forest and later was seen far in advance when the

unsuspecting party it had been following had relaxed his watchfulness,

believing himself to be safe because the pursuit had been abandoned.

The thought was not reassuring, and instantly Reuben gave rein to his

sturdy little pony.

The terror-stricken horse dashed forward. The ground was uneven, and

several times the little animal nearly fell as it bounded ahead. It was

a wild and a mad flight, and Reuben not only did not hold back the

pony, but continually urged it to a swifter flight. In this way he rode

forward for a half-mile or more until the heaving sides of his horse

gave evidence that its strength was nearly exhausted.

At the time he was entering a narrow passage in the valley. The light

was becoming dimmer, but he was able to see that still about one

hundred feet of the defile was before him.

Soon after he had given a brief breathing spell to his pony he was

startled when the horse suddenly emitted a snort of terror and once

more bounded forward. Glancing swiftly behind him, Reuben’s fears all

returned when he saw approaching from among the trees on the

mountainside the same mountain lion which had pursued him and whose

savage attack he had hoped had been abandoned.

Yelling loudly, Reuben once more urged his horse into its swiftest

paces. There was a scream of anger from the pursuing lion, and Reuben’s

heart almost ceased to beat when he saw that the animal already was

leaping forward in swift pursuit.

Abandoning his grasp on the bridle, Reuben seized his gun by the barrel

and turning partly around in his saddle, with his uplifted gun he

awaited the attack. The snarling beast advanced until it was within a

few yards of the terrified boy. The pony, meantime, was running

swiftly, snorting with terror and groaning with every breath it drew.

Abruptly Reuben turned still farther about in his seat, and yelling in

his loudest tones shouted: “Get out! Clear out! Get away from here!”

He followed his words with a hissing sound, and to his delight the

beast suddenly stopped, gazed in surprise or alarm at what he had

evidently believed was a terrified victim, and then with long leaps

instantly turned, bounded into the forest, and disappeared from sight.

Whether or not the pursuit had been abandoned Reuben did not know. He

quickly gave all his attention to the horse he was riding, and as he

passed beyond the border of the defile and was unable to discover any

signs of the presence of his recent pursuer, he decided to continue the

flight and do his utmost to escape from the savage animal.

For ten minutes the wild flight continued, until the pony no longer was

able to maintain its pace. Again and again Reuben had glanced behind

him, but not once had he seen the mountain lion. What pleased him still

more was the fact that in advance of him he saw the end of the narrow

valley. Once there he would be able to move down upon the plains, and

he did not believe that the hungry brute would dare to follow him

beyond the protection of the mountain. However, he halted and with

trembling hands reloaded his rifle. He had decided that it would be

safe as well as wise for him to take this precaution. If the beast

should appear again he would stop his horse and fire at the animal.

Resuming his flight, not many minutes had elapsed before Reuben found

himself upon the plains.

The night now was upon him, but the light was still sufficient to

enable him to see, though somewhat indistinctly, the outlines of the

rocks and trees behind him. But the valley was no place of shelter,

although he was aware that the Mission of San Gabriel was not more than

seven or eight miles distant.

Only a brief time had elapsed before the young trapper was convinced

that the mountain lion had abandoned its pursuit and turning back had

sought the shelter of the defiles of the mountain.

Satisfied now that he had nothing more to fear, Reuben allowed his

horse to proceed more slowly, though the manner in which the poor beast

was holding its head as it advanced clearly indicated how nearly

exhausted the pony was.

In this manner he moved steadily forward until he had come near to one

of the farms owned by the mission and cultivated by the Indians. A rude

little house was plainly to be seen in the distance, but as no light

was shining from its windows, the young trapper decided to push forward

and not stop until he had arrived at the destination he was seeking.

He had left the farmhouse far behind him and was moving forward over

the dusty road when suddenly he saw before him the outlines of an

approaching man. The man, however, was advancing in a strange manner.

He was moving from one side of the road to the other, and yet as Reuben

keenly watched him he was sure that the stranger was not intoxicated.

Why then was he approaching in such a strange manner? He was carrying

no burden upon his back, and both hands were free.

Still keenly watching the man who was steadily coming nearer, Reuben

suddenly was startled by a motion that seemed to him strangely

familiar. It reminded him of the companion whom he had lost among the

foothills of the Rockies. But not a word had been heard from Jean

Badeau.

Still believing that it was impossible that anything more than a

resemblance had been discovered in the man, when Reuben came close to

him he halted his horse and peered intently into the face of the

stranger. The face strongly resembled that of the missing French

trapper. And yet it was so unlike his friend’s that Reuben was at a

loss to decide whether or not his former companion was indeed now

before him.

The strangest part of all was that the man appeared to be entirely

unaware of the presence of Reuben. He seldom glanced at him, and even

when he did so Reuben felt a shiver creep along his spine, for there

was something uncanny in the expression of the man’s face. Reuben

somehow had a feeling that the man was not so much looking at him as

looking through him. Indeed, his fear increased when he became aware

that the man not only did not reply to his questions, but that he did

not even seem to be aware of his presence.

“Jean, Jean!” called Reuben in a low voice. “Is that you?”

As no answer was given to his query, the excited boy in a trembling

voice again said: “What are you doing here? How did you escape from the

Indians?”

Either ignoring or unaware of the questions which had been asked, the

man continued his zigzag journey and soon passed out of the sight of

the perplexed young trapper.

Partly convinced that he had mistaken the strange man for Jean Badeau,

and that it was impossible for his former companion to be among the men

assembled at the San Gabriel Mission, Reuben quickly resumed his

journey. His pony now was somewhat rested, and in a brief time, of its

own accord, it broke into the swifter gait it had maintained most of

the way since the camp of the trappers had been left.

Reuben was still thinking of the two strange adventures which had

befallen him on his ride when at last he drew near the walls that

surrounded the old mission, and in response to his pull upon the

bell-rope the gate was opened and he was admitted.

Scouting with Kit Carson · 第 16 / 30 章