MANUELITO'S FATE.
For ten minutes Pike remained at his post of observation on top of the
rock, watching the Indians as they slowly and cautiously moved down the
Pass in the direction of the abandoned camp. The children, worn out with
their play, and the fatigues of the climb, were sleeping soundly in the
little cave on the peak,--Nellie, with her fair head pillowed in patient
Kate's lap. Black Jim, too, was lying where the sun shone full upon him,
and snoring away as placidly as earlier in the morning.
Kate, far back in the cave, had no idea what was going on in the Pass
below; but her soul was still filled with dread and anxiety. The old
trooper knew well that just as soon as the Indians came to the wagons
and found them abandoned, their first care would be to secure all the
plunder from them possible. Then they would probably dispose of
Manuelito after their own cruel designs; and then, if darkness did not
come on in the meantime, they would probably begin their search for the
fugitives. There would be no difficulty to Indian trailers in following
their track up the mountain side; of this Pike was well assured. But the
wary old trooper had taken the precaution, every time that he and Jim
had gone to and from the camp, to take a roundabout path, so as to bring
their trail around the base of the mountain in front of the cave, and in
this way the Indians in following would come directly in front of their
barricade at the mouth and from sixty to a hundred yards down the hill
and within easy range and almost sure shot of the defenders.
And now, peering down into the road far below, Pike could see that the
leading Indians had come in sight of the big baggage wagon and that they
were signalling to those in the rear, for almost instantly three or four
sinewy, athletic young fellows sprang up among the trees and bowlders on
the north side of the Pass, and crouching like panthers, half crawling,
half springing, they went flitting from rock to rock or tree to tree
until lost to the view of the lone watcher on the great ledge, but it
was evident that their purpose was to reconnoitre the position from that
side, as well as to surround the objects of their pursuit should they
still be there. Almost at the same instant, too, an equal number of the
Tontos came leaping like goats a short distance up the slope towards
Pike's unconscious garrison, but speedily turned eastward, and, adopting
precisely the same tactics as those of their comrades across the road,
rapidly, but with the utmost stealth and noiselessness, bore down on the
abandoned nook.
"Mighty lucky we got out of that and found this," muttered Pike. "It
won't be five minutes before they satisfy themselves that there is no
one left to defend those wagons or the horses--and the moment they
realize it there'll be a yell of delight."
Sure enough! After a brief interval of silence, there came from below a
shout of exultation, answered instantly by triumphant yells from the
Indians in the roadway, and echoed by a wail of mortal terror from poor
Kate, crouching below in the cave. Pike lost no time in sliding down the
rocks and striving to comfort her. Nellie, clinging to her nurse, was
terrified by the sounds. Little Ned, pale, but with his boyish face set
and determined, grasped once more his little Ballard rifle, and looked
up in the corporal's face as much as to say: Count on me for one of your
fighting men! Trembling, shivering and calling on the blessed saints,
poor Kate stood there wringing her hands, the very personification of
abject fright. Jim, coming around to the mouth of the cave, spoke
sternly to her; told her she ought to be ashamed of herself for setting
so bad an example to little Nell. "Look at Ned," he said, "see how the
little man behaves; his father would be proud of him." And then Pike
spoke up. "Don't worry, don't be so afraid, Kate; they have got all they
want just now. They'll just plunder and gorge themselves with food, and
then they will have Manuelito to amuse themselves with. It is getting
too late in the day for them to attempt to follow us. They have got too
much to occupy themselves with anyhow. Don't you worry, old girl; if
they do come this way, as they may to-morrow morning, we'll give them a
dose that will make them wish they had never seen a Yankee."
[Illustration: NELLIE, CLINGING TO HER NURSE, WAS TERRIFIED BY THE
SOUNDS.]
The Indian shouts redoubled; every accent was that of triumph. They were
evidently rejoicing over the rich find in the ambulance and the baggage
wagon. Of course a great deal of property had been left there for which
Pike's party would have no possible use up here in the cave, and this
included plenty of food. The horses, too, delighted the Tontos, and, as
Pike said, they would doubtless be occupied some little time with the
division of the spoils, and longer in having a grand feast.
Looking down the road he could see the two mules browsing peacefully
side by side, Manuelito still lashed to the back of one of them. Two
young Indians stood guard over him and their four-footed captives; but
even these fellows were by no means forgotten, for every now and then
Pike could see their friends running back to them with something to eat
and, after exchanging a word or two, hurrying again to the wagons.
After a while poor Kate, partially assured by Pike's words, but more
shamed into silence by the bravery of little Ned, subsided into a corner
of the cave, and there seated herself, moaning and weeping, but no
longer making any outcry. Pike decided that it would be necessary for
him to go once more to his watch-tower, and as far as he could, watch
the programme of the Apaches the rest of the day. Before starting,
however, he called up Jim and gave him his instructions: "You see that
the sun is almost down. The chances are that they will be so much
interested in what they have found that darkness will settle down upon
us before they fairly get through with their jubilee. Then, again, it
may be that the bloody hounds will have some fun of their own with poor
Manuelito to-night. I've no sympathy for the scoundrel, but I can't bear
the idea of one who has served with us so long being tortured before our
very eyes. We can't help it, however, there are only two of us here, and
our first object is to protect these poor little children, and that
wretched old Kate of a nurse there. Stay here with your rifle behind the
barricade. I'll whistle if any Indian attempts to follow our trail; then
I'll come down here as quickly as possible. But keep a bright lookout
yourself. Watch those trees down there to the front. Note everything
occurring along the road as far as you can see. There goes one of the
beggars back to that point now. Even in the midst of their fun they
don't neglect precautions. See! he's going to climb up there on that
little hill just where I was watching this morning. Yes, there he goes.
Now you will see him lie down flat when he gets to the top, and peer
over the rocks to the west. What he is looking out for, I don't know,
but it may be that they expect the cavalry even more than we do. They
possibly have had signal fires from the reservation warning them that
the cavalry have already left the Verde. I hope and pray they have. Now,
keep up your grit, Jim; don't let anything phaze you. If you want help,
or see anything, whistle, and I'll come down."
Already it was growing darker down the gorge. Pike could see that the
Apaches had lighted a fire in the road close to the wagons. Evidently
they were going to begin some cooking on their own account, and were
even now distributing the provisions they had found. Two of them had
released Manuelito from the mule, and the poor devil was now seated,
bound and helpless, on a rock by the roadside, looking too faint and
terrified to live. The captain's field glass revealed a sorry sight to
the old soldier's eyes as he peered down at the little throng of savages
about the baggage wagon, now completely gutted of its contents; and
though he despised the Mexican as a traitor and thief and coward, it was
impossible not to feel compassion for him in his present awful plight.
There was something most pitiable in the fellow's clasped hands and
abject despair. He had lived too long in Arizona not to know the fate
reserved for prisoners taken by the Indians, and he knew, and Pike knew,
that, their hunger once satisfied, the chances were ten to one they
would then turn their attention entirely to their captive, and have a
wild and furious revel as they slowly tortured him to death.
[Illustration: THE POOR DEVIL WAS NOW SEATED, BOUND AND HELPLESS, ON A
ROCK BY THE ROADSIDE.]
The sun had gone down behind the range, far over to the west, as Pike
reached once more the top of his watch-tower, and every moment the
darkness deepened down the Pass. Up here he could not only see the
baggage wagon in the road, but the top of the ambulance, and two of the
horses were also visible, and occasionally the lithe forms of the Tontos
scurrying about in the firelight. Evidently the old cook fire in the
cleft of the rocks had been stirred up and was now being utilized by
half the band, while the others toasted the bacon and roasted _frijoles_
down in the road. The yells had long since ceased. Many of the warriors
were squatting about the baggage wagon gnawing at hard bread or other
unaccustomed luxuries, but those at the ambulance were chattering like
so many monkeys and keeping up a hammering, the object of which Pike
could not at first imagine, until he suddenly remembered the locked box
under the driver's seat, the key of which was always carried by the
captain. Then a flash of hope shot over him as he recalled the fact that
when they left their station Captain Gwynne had stowed away in there
three or four bottles of whiskey or brandy. It would take them but a
little while, he knew, to break into the enclosure, and then there would
be a bacchanalian scene.
"Oh, that it were a barrel instead of a bottle or two," groaned Pike.
"As it is there's just enough to exhilarate the gang and keep them,
singing and dancing all night; but a barrel!--that would stupefy them
one after another and Jim and I could have gone down and murdered the
whole crowd. Not one of 'em would ever have known what hurt him."
Ha! a sound of crashing, splitting wood. A rush, a scuffle--then a yell
of triumph and delight. Every Indian in the roadway sprang to his feet
and darted off up the rocks to swell the chorus at the ambulance. Even
Manuelito's guard left his prisoner to take care of himself and ran like
a deer to claim his share of the madly craved "fire water." A few years
before and most of them hardly knew its taste, but some of their number
had more than once made "John Barleycorn's" acquaintance and had told
wondrous tales of its effects. In less than a minute, with the single
exception of their sentry on the hill, every Tonto was struggling,
shouting, laughing and leaping about the family wagon, and Pike knew
from the sounds that the captain's little store of liquor was rapidly
disappearing. Every moment the noise waxed louder and fiercer as the
deep potations of the principal Indians did their poisonous work. There
were shrill altercations, vehement invective and reproach; Pike even
hoped for a minute that there had been enough after all to start them
fighting among themselves, but the hope was delusive. All was gloom and
darkness now in the Pass except immediately around the two fires. He
could no longer see Manuelito or the mules, but suddenly he heard a
sound of a simultaneous rush and an instant after with hideous shouts
and yells the whole band leaped into view and went tearing down into the
road and up to the rocks where their helpless prisoner still sat bound
and helpless--more dead than alive--and Pike heard the shriek of despair
with which the poor fellow greeted his now half crazy captors.
"My God!" groaned the old soldier, "it is awful to have to lurk here and
make no move to help him. He would have cut all our throats without a
twinge of conscience, but I can't see him tortured nor can I lift a hand
to save him. And here's Kate, and those poor little ones. They can't
help hearing his cries and shrieks. What an awful night 'twill be for
them! No use of my staying up here now. I must go down to them."
Far back in the black recesses of the cave he found them,--Nellie
trembling and sobbing with her head pillowed in Kate's lap and covered
with a shawl so as to shut out, if possible, the awful sounds from
below. The Irishwoman, too, was striving to stop her ears and was at the
same time frantically praying to all the saints in the calendar for help
in their woeful peril, and for mercy for that poor wretch whose mad
cries and imprecations rang out on the still night air even louder than
the yells of his captors. Manful little Ned sat close by his sister's
side, patting her arm from time to time with one hand while he clung to
his rifle with the other. The boy did not shed a tear, though his voice
trembled and his lips quivered as he answered Pike's cheery words. Jim
knelt at his post at the stone breastwork keeping vigilant watch, though
his teeth chattered despite his best efforts, and his eyes were
doubtless bulging out of their sockets.
"You mustn't be sitting here all in the dark," said Pike. "Keep up a
little fire, Ned, my boy. It's so far back and so far up the hill that
the Indians cannot possibly see the light it may make even were they to
come around to the east side of the mountain. They won't to-night,
though. They've found papa's stock of whiskey and brandy and are already
half drunk. They'll lie around there all night long and never come
hunting for us until after sunrise to-morrow, if they do then. We'll
just have fun with these fellows until the cavalry come from Verde, as
come they will, I haven't a doubt, now that papa has found that he was
cut off and has ridden back on the trail to meet and hurry the troops.
He knows well that you and Jim and I could take care of Nellie and stand
off these beggars until he could reach us. Now, light the lantern and
stow it in that niche yonder. And you, Kate, lie down and cover yourself
and the children with blankets. I'm going out where I can watch what
they're doing."
So saying, Pike took his rifle and the field glasses and, after a word
with Jim, passed around to the east front of the ledge. It was too dark
to enable him to venture down the bowlders, or to attempt to climb again
to the top of the rock, but he found a spot among the stunted trees from
which he could just see the back part of the baggage wagon and the
Apaches flitting about it in the light of their fire. Leveling his
glasses he could make out that several of the Indians were grouped about
some object in the road, and presently one or two came running to the
spot with buckets of water which they dashed over a prostrate form. It
was Manuelito, who had probably fainted dead away.
Then, as the Mexican apparently began to recover his senses, he was
lifted roughly from the ground and borne, moaning and feebly struggling,
towards the wagon. Into this he was tossed head foremost, so that only
his feet and legs were visible to the anxious watcher up the hill.
Securely bound, and already half dead from the tortures inflicted on
him, unable to move hand or foot, the poor wretch lay there, alternately
praying and weeping. What the next move of the Apaches would be was not
long a matter of doubt. The whole band, with the exception of their
sentinels, were now dancing and leaping about their captive, singing
some devil-inspired chant, which occasionally gave place to yells of
triumph. Presently the younger men began piling up wood under the back
of the wagon--under the Mexican's manacled feet; and then brands and
embers were thrust underneath. Pike turned sick with horror and
helplessness at the sight, for he knew instantly what it meant. The
wagon was to be the wretched Manuelito's funeral pyre. They meant to
burn him to death by inches. Suddenly a bright flame leaped up from the
bottom of the stack of fuel; broader, brighter, fiercer it grew until it
lapped up over the floor of the wagon. A scream of agony rang through
the Pass, answered by jeering laughter and fiendish yells. The next
minute the whole band were circling round the wagon in a wild war-dance;
their yells, their savage song, completely drowned the shrieks of the
tortured man. The whole wagon was soon a mass of flames, and more fuel
was added. Presently the rear axle came down with a crash, sending
showers of sparks whirling through the night air, and Pike turned away
faint and trembling.
Another instant, however, and every faculty was on the alert, every
nerve strung to its highest tension, and the old soldier sprang back to
the cave in answer to Jim's call.
"Look!" whispered the negro. "Look down there! There's some one moving
among those rocks."