THUNDER ALL AROUND.
There stood the daring young trapper, directly behind him. He, too,
had recalled the danger, and was at bay, holding his rifle, cocked and
grasped, ready to discharge the instant it should become necessary.
Both of the lads were saturated with water, for besides their recent
plunge into the river, there was a damp moistness in the air, like a
copious dew, that would have rendered their garments dripping with
water, supposing they had been dry at the time they entered this Cave
of the Winds.
His gun could not be otherwise than wet, but the charge was dry, and it
could be relied upon to do its duty in case of an emergency; and it was
well that it was thus, for the danger was at hand.
Seeing that he was backed up by his young friend, Harry withdrew his
gaze from him and resumed his scrutiny of the three Blackfeet, still
standing in full view upon the rock.
He had no more than turned his head when one of the Indians took a step
forward. There was a pause, and then he burst through the thin, glassy
sheet, as he made his plunge, his dark body being seen for one instant
in mid-air, incased in the transparent setting, and then the crouching
body landed almost upon the head of Harry, who hastily drew back to
avoid a collision with him.
Moving forward to grapple with the red-skin and to endeavor to throw
him over the ledge before he could recover, he saw him with amazement
roll over as if in great agony, and then, dropping like a log from the
slippery rock, he instantly shot down from sight, vanishing in the
seething waters below--gone from human sight forever.
All this took place in such a brief space of time that Harry was
completely puzzled to understand what it meant. He could divine no
reason why the Blackfoot, after effecting a landing, should take it
into his head to commit suicide in that fashion. It was impossible
that he should have lost his footing so completely that he was unable
to prevent the catastrophe, and yet what else could have done it?
In his perplexity he turned about again to see whether Little Rifle
could gesticulate any explanation, and the young trapper did, so
effectually that it could not be misunderstood, for, as Harry glanced
at him, he was in the act of ramming home another charge in his rifle.
This explained it all. Little Rifle was prepared, and the instant the
red-skin broke through the glassy sheet of water, he had fired, giving
him an almost instantly fatal wound.
What a vivid realization of the deafening roar of the water, that
the gun, although fired directly over his head, and almost within
arm’s-length, still failed to give him the slightest report.
Little Rifle now showed a keenness of perception and a fertility of
resources which in reality was nothing short of the wonderful. As he
stood with his rifle held to his shoulder, and his finger pressing the
trigger, his view of the Indian bursting through the sheet of water,
like the athlete of the hippodrome leaping through the ring of paper,
was sharply distinct, although but for a passing moment of time.
The expression upon the face of the Blackfoot was that of surprise at
seeing the two lads before him. He did not expect to see them--was not
looking for them, and the red-skins who remained upon the outside were
not aware of their being there.
This, as all will see, was a great point in favor of the lads, if the
deception could be continued; but there was the imminent danger that
the rest of the Blackfeet, waiting in vain for the return of their
comrade, would discover the truth. In such a case, a desperate fight,
with the certainty of a fatal result upon the part of the lads, was
sure to follow.
Comprehending the nature of the Indian, with its childish credulity
and superstition, Little Rifle determined to appeal to this weakness.
The Blackfeet believe that the waterfalls of their country are haunted
by spirits, and knowing of the existence of the cavern in the rear of
this, they could not but look upon the act of their companion as one of
daring intrepidity.
The young trapper touched the arm of Harry, and motioned for him to
draw back out of the way, while he crept forward until his eyes were
at a point where he could see the Indians without showing himself. He
waited only long enough to see that fully a half-dozen were clustered
upon the rocks, where he suspected they were discussing the action of
their companion.
Little Rifle then pushed his gun forward, and pulled the trigger. It
was not aimed at the group, for he had no desire to injure any of them,
unless compelled to do so in self-defense, but through the gauzy vail
every one of them must have caught sight of the sheet of fire, without
hearing any thing of the report.
This was enough, and they vanished from the spot as suddenly as if the
ground had opened and swallowed them, not one being visible a dozen
seconds afterward.
This was also a huge step forward upon the part of the boys, but
there remained still the difficult necessity of getting out of their
uncomfortable quarters, and making their way back to the cabin of old
Ruff Robsart.
If the Blackfeet had left the rock, it was hardly probable that
they had left the neighborhood, and the moment the boys should show
themselves, they would be in for it again.
Under these circumstances, it would seem that there was really but one
course for them to pursue, which was, to remain where they were until
night, and then trust to the assistance of darkness for them to get
away without being discovered.
Such, we say, was the course dictated by common sense and prudence,
and yet a most unexpected and novel cause now appeared to prevent it.
There are few of our readers, perhaps, who are not aware of the rapidly
increasing distress caused by an unusual sound in the ears, when it is
continued for any length of time. The screaming of a car-whistle, or
the near booming of a cannon, after a while becomes unbearable, and
will drive mad the person who has not become accustomed to it.
In the excitement of the occasion, and the danger from the Blackfeet,
the lads were insensible to any discomfort from the overwhelming
roar of the falls; but now, when standing directly beneath them and
reflecting that they would probably have to wait for hours, they became
aware of a growing uneasiness--a nervous restlessness, rapidly changing
into distress, which convinced both that they could not maintain their
position and retain their senses at the same time. It would not be long
before the time would come when they would be willing to incur any risk
to escape the intolerable anguish of this uproar.
Harry was ready to make the leap at once, but Little Rifle had hopes of
accomplishing the result by another plan. It will be remembered that he
had started to explore what seemed to be a cavern, the opening of which
was but a short distance away; but he had withdrawn from the attempt
under the conviction that there was more imminent need of him elsewhere.
He was now ready to take up the work again, and motioning for Harry to
follow, he moved toward the dark, forbidding depth of what might be an
interminable cavern.
To give himself the free use of his arms, he had strapped his rifle to
his back, and he now groped cautiously along, like a man feeling his
way in a dark room.
Of course the darkness rapidly deepened, until in a few minutes it
became impenetrable. The floor of the cavern was slippery, and the
utmost care was necessary to prevent a fatal catastrophe. When their
eyes became of no further use, both sunk upon their hands and knees,
and crept along in this fashion, Harry keeping so close that he could
touch the foot of Little Rifle, who used one hand, as an elephant uses
his trunk in venturing upon a treacherous support.
Two noteworthy facts impressed themselves upon the lads. The floor
of the cavern was becoming freer from dampness, and after a time was
absolutely dry--a most gratifying change, for they had had so much of
water during the last few hours, that it seemed to both that a day or
two of scorching thirst would be acceptable, as a means of relief.
Again the floor of the cavern was ascending, very gradually, but none
the less positively for all that. Little Rifle suspected that the
dryness of the rocks, over which they were crawling, meant that they
had passed from beneath the river bed, and were under the solid earth,
but with little prospect of ever reaching the surface.
But the most gratifying and welcome fact of all, was that they were
getting away from the tormenting uproar of the waterfall. With every
foot they advanced through the labyrinthine cavern, that terrible
continuous crash grew less and less distinct, until it finally sounded
like the dull roar of the distant ocean.
The relief was unspeakable, and the ringing din in their ears speedily
subsided, so that they began to feel something like their natural
selves again. It would be easy enough for them to remain in this part
of the cavern until the coming of night, and Little Rifle concluded
that this was what they would do.
As they got further away from the tumult, of course they found use for
their tongues, and, as may be supposed, they made good use of them, as
a sort of recompense for their enforced idleness.
“Suppose the Blackfeet follow us here?” inquired Harry Northend.
“I don’t think there is any danger,” replied Little Rifle, who then
made known--what we have already stated to the reader--his belief that
the Indian whom they had shot, was not in pursuit of the lads, and
indeed did not know or suspect their presence behind the falls. This
theory was entirely new to his friend, who, after hearing the reasons
for his belief, was disposed to believe it implicitly.
“Then all we have to do,” he continued, “is to wait here until night
comes, and go out the same way that we came in. Isn’t that it, Little
Rifle?”
“I am afraid it is, unless we can find some other way out. What time of
day is it?”
“It must be past noon; I remember just before I went over the falls,
that I took my last look, as I supposed, at the sun, and it was then
directly overhead, so it must have been about mid-day.”
“Yes,” returned Little Rifle, “the afternoon is only fairly begun, for
things have moved lively with us, since then. If we stay here until
night, we have got a good six hours’ stretch before us at least. I have
waited many a time for a much longer period than that, but it isn’t
the most pleasant thing to do, especially when you don’t know whether
you are going to make any thing by it or not. I hope we can do better.”
“You have hinted that same thing before,” said Harry; “what do you mean
by it?”
“You know that I told you that Old Ruff Robsart has been here before
us. It was a long time ago, and I do not remember what he told me; but
I suspect that he found his way out by a different passage from the one
he used in entering.”
“And you think there is a possibility of our finding the passage?”
“Yes--although there isn’t much hope either, but I would rather be
moving about, even if we don’t find any thing to pay us, than to stay
here, and wait till the night comes.”
“So would I,” added Harry, in his cheery voice. “I got a little crack
just now from something against the sore on my head, that stung me a
little--but it is all over now. Lead on, and I will follow. If you
are going to change your gait, give me notice, so that we don’t get
separated.”
Promising that he would do as requested, Little Rifle continued his
progress.