THE MOQUI WHO WAS CAUGHT NAPPING
Sheriff Stanwix arose with a sigh.
"Reckon we'd better be moving on, Hand," he said, evidently with
reluctance; for it was very pleasant sitting there, taking his ease
beside the camp fire of the two boys; but when duty called this man
never let anything stand in the way.
Their horses had not strayed far away. Like most animals they had sought
the company of their kind, as various sounds indicated, Buckskin
doubtless showing his prairie strain by sundry nips with his teeth at
the strangers.
Another shake of hands all around; then the sheriffs threw themselves
into their saddles, and were off. The last the two lads saw of them was
when their figures were swallowed up in the night-mists; and then it was
a friendly wave of the arm that told how much they had appreciated the
hospitality of the saddle boys.
"Well, anyhow, it doesn't seem quite so lonely out here, after all,"
said Frank, laughing, as he and his chum settled down again.
"Why, no," added Bob, "I thought we owned the whole coop; but I take it
back. There are others abroad, it seems."
"I only hope those two fly-by-night birds don't take a notion to double
on their trail, and come back to pay us a visit," Frank remarked; and of
course Bob understood that he meant the bad men who were being rounded
up by Sheriff Stanwix, aided by the official of Coconino County.
"Perhaps we'd better douse the glim, then?" Bob suggested.
"Let it burn out," Frank remarked; "I don't believe there's much chance
of anybody else seeing it now; because it's pretty low. Our tent shows
up about as plain, come to think of it; but I don't mean to do without
shelter."
They sat there, chatting on various subjects, for some time. Of course
their mission to the region of the greatest natural wonder in the world
took a leading part in this conversation. But then they also spoke of
their recent visitors; and as Bob showed signs of considerable interest,
Frank told all he had ever heard about the valor of the Prescott
sheriff.
"I don't know how you feel about it, Bob," he said, at length, with a
yawn, "but I'm getting mighty sleepy."
"Same here; and I move we turn in," Bob immediately replied.
Accordingly, as the idea had received unanimous approval, they took a
look at the horses, now staked out with the ropes, and, finding them
comfortable, both boys crawled under the canvas.
Some hours later they were aroused suddenly by a shrill yell. As they
sat up, and groped for their rifles, not realizing what manner of peril
could be hanging over them, the loud snorting of the horses came to
their ears.
"Come on!" exclaimed Frank, in considerable excitement. "Sounds like
somebody might be bothering our mounts!"
Bob had not been so very long in the Western country; but he knew what
that meant all right. Horses were supposed to be the most valuable
possessions among men who spent their lives on the great plains and
deserts of this region. In the old days it was deemed a capital crime to
steal horses.
So Bob, shivering with excitement, but not fear, hastened to follow at
the heels of his chum, as Frank hastily crawled out of the tent.
A rather battered looking moon was part way up in the Eastern heavens.
Though the light she gave was none of the best, still, to the boys,
coming from the interior of the tent, it seemed quite enough to enable
them to see their way about, and even distinguish objects at a little
distance.
Frank lost no time heading in the direction where he knew the horses had
been staked out.
"Anyhow, they don't seem to have got them yet," remarked Bob, gleefully,
as the sound of prancing and snorting came to their ears louder than
ever.
Frank stopped for a couple of seconds to listen.
"Buckskin is carrying on something fierce," he muttered. "He seems to be
furiously mad, too. Perhaps, after all, it may be a bear sniffing
around; though I'd never expect to find such a thing out here, so far
away from the mountains."
He again started on, with Bob close at his elbow. The words of his chum
had given the Kentucky lad new cause for other thrills. What if it
should prove to be a grizzly bear? He had had one experience with such a
monster, and was not particularly anxious for another, not being in the
big game class.
Now they were approaching the spot where the two roped horses were
jumping restlessly about, making queer sounds that could only indicate
alarm.
Frank spoke to his animal immediately, thinking to reassure him.
"Easy now, Buckskin; what's making you act this way? I don't see any
enemy. If you've given a false alarm, it'll sure be for the first time!"
"Frank!" ventured the other lad, just then.
"What is it, Bob?"
"I thought I heard a low groan!" continued the Kentucky boy, in awed
tones.
"You did?" ejaculated Frank, quickly. "Have you any idea where it came
from?"
As if to make it quite unnecessary for Bob to reply, there came just
then a low but distinct grunt or groan. Frank could not tell which.
"Over this way, Frank; he's in this direction!" exclaimed the impulsive
Bob, as he started to move off.
"Wait a minute," said the practical and cautious Frank. "You never know
what sort of game you're up against, around here. Some of these horse
thieves can toll a fellow away from his camp to beat the band, while a
mate gets off with the saddle band. I've been warned against that very
sort of play. Go slow, Bob, and keep a finger on your trigger, I tell
you."
They advanced slowly, looking all around in the dim moonlight. Twice
more the strange sounds arose. Frank jumped to the conclusion that it
was, after all, no attempt to draw them farther and farther away from
the tent; because the groans seemed to come from the one spot, instead
of gradually moving off in a tempting manner.
"Here he is, Bob!" he said, presently; and the other, looking, saw a
huddled-up figure lying upon the ground in the midst of the low buffalo
berry bushes.
Immediately they were bending over the form, which had moved at their
approach.
"Why, it's an Indian, Frank!" cried Bob, in surprise.
"Yes, and unless I miss my guess, a Moqui Indian at that," Frank
replied. "Three of them wandered down our way once, and gave us some
interesting exhibitions of their customs. You know their home is up to
the north. They are said to be the descendants of the old cliff dwellers
who made all those holes high up in the rocks, to keep out of the reach
of enemies."
He was bending down over the other even while saying this; and feeling
to see if the Indian could have been wounded in any way.
"What seems to be the matter with him, Frank?" asked Bob, when this
thing had been going on for a full minute, the stricken man grunting,
and Frank appearing to continue his investigations.
"I tell you what," Frank remarked, presently; "I honestly believe he's
been kicked by the heels of my sassy little Buckskin; perhaps he's badly
hurt; and then again, he may only have had the wind knocked out of him.
That horse is as bad as any mule you ever saw, when it comes to planting
his heels."
"But what was he prowling around the camp for?" asked Bob, who had a
hazy idea concerning the red men of the West, gained perhaps from early
reading of the attacks on the wagon trains of the pioneers of the
prairie.
"Oh! these Moqui Indians wouldn't do a white man any harm, unless they
happened to take too much juice of the agave plant, in the shape of
mescal," Frank hastened to say; "and I don't seem to get the smell of
that stuff. So the chances are that he had something of an eye to our
horses."
"And as he didn't know about Buckskin's ways he gave the little pony a
chance to get in some dents. But he may be badly hurt, Frank," Bob went
on, his natural kindness of heart cropping up above any feeling of
animosity he might have experienced.
"I suppose, then, we'll just have to tote the beggar to the tent, and
start up that fire again, while we look him over. If those hind feet
came slap against his ribs, the chances are we'll find a few of them
broken."
Swinging their rifles into one hand they managed to take hold of the
grunting Moqui, and in this primitive fashion began hauling him along.
Buckskin continued to prance and snort as though demanding whether he
had not amply fulfilled his duty as guardian to the camp; but no one
paid the least attention to him just then. Arriving at the tent the
boys proceeded to rekindle the fire.
"Why, he's coming to, Frank!" exclaimed Bob, as, having finished his
task, he turned to see his chum bending over the victim of Buckskin's
hoofs, and noted that the would-be horse thief was struggling to sit up.
"I don't believe he's hurt very bad," Frank declared. "I've felt all
over his body, and don't seem to find any signs of broken bones."
"Listen to him gasp right now, as if the breath had been knocked out of
him," remarked Bob. "He's going to speak, Frank, sure he is. I wonder
can we understand what he says. Moqui wasn't included in my education at
the Military Institution at Frankfort."
The Indian was indeed trying to get enough air in his lungs to enable
him to say something.