ATTACKED BY INDIANS.
"Here, come back!" yelled Broswick.
"What for?" shouted Nestor.
"Take my horse," said the hunter. "That's better than going afoot."
Nestor returned, mounted the animal and set off at a gallop toward the
two autos, which were down in the valley.
"He'll never catch them," said Bob, in a despairing tone.
"You let him alone," came from Broswick. "He'll git 'em, all right.
There's some trouble down there. One machine can't go."
"How can you tell?" asked Jerry.
"I've got sharp eyes, boy," was the answer. "I use 'em in my business."
In fact, as the boys observed closely, they could see that the two
machines were not moving. They could also note men walking about the
cars.
"Something's out of kilter," said Ned. "I guess they found plenty of
trouble running two machines. I'll bet one of 'em is ours."
They watched Nestor descend the slope and approach the cars. As he came
closer to them it was observed that there was some commotion among the
persons grouped around the machines. They saw the miner raise his hand
in the air, and little clouds of smoke arose.
"He's firing over their heads!" cried Broswick.
Then, all at once, the persons down in the valley, who, as the boys
afterward learned, were Noddy Nixon and his gang, made a rush for the
head auto, jumped into it and made off at top speed.
Nestor rode up to the remaining machine and waved his hat back to his
friends. Taking this as a signal that all was right, they hurried
forward.
"It was them, all right!" cried Nestor, when Jerry and the others had
joined him. "I scared them off by firing in the air. There seemed to be
something the matter with our auto, for they were trying to fix it."
The boys were worried lest some harm had befallen their machine. Jerry
made an examination, however, and found things in good shape. There
was some damage, and a battery wire had become disconnected, which had
brought the machine to a stop, thus foiling the plans of Noddy.
"That was a lucky break for us," said Bob.
"You bet it was, Chunky," agreed Ned. "If we hadn't recovered the auto
we would have had to walk back home, and home is a good ways from here."
Repairs to the machine were quickly made, and then, with light hearts,
the adventurers took their places and started forward once again.
Nothing in the car had been disturbed, and even the collection of
insects made by Professor Snodgrass had not been harmed. The steady
chug-chug and puff-puff of the motor was heard as the adventurers moved
on up the mountain.
They stopped for dinner on top of a little hill in the midst of a grove
of trees. A fire was kindled, coffee made, and some canned provisions
set out.
"This is something like," observed Bob, smacking his lips over some
preserved tongue.
"I'd have given five dollars for a cup of coffee last night," spoke
Nestor.
"Me, too," said the hunter.
"I am so thankful my specimens are safe I could go without eating for a
week," put in Professor Snodgrass, at which they all laughed.
Taking a comfortable rest under the trees until the afternoon sun went
down a little, the adventurers were thoroughly enjoying the pleasant
day. Suddenly Broswick started up.
"What is it?" asked Nestor, viewing with alarm the look of fear on the
hunter's face.
"Indians!" was the answer.
"You don't mean real Indians?"
"That's what I do. There's a reservation of some kind about fifty miles
from here, and they break loose every now and again."
"What makes you think some are loose now?"
"Hear 'em yellin' an' screechin'!" said the hunter, raising his hand to
caution silence.
Straining their ears the adventurers noted the faint sound of some weird
chant borne to them on the east wind. Then, as they watched, they saw,
coming over the slope of the hill, a band of redskins, mounted on ponies.
"Hurry to the auto!" cried Ned.
He ran for the machine, followed by Jerry and Bob. Broswick picked up
his gun and looked to the loading of it, as Nestor did to his revolvers,
but neither of the men offered to retreat. Professor Snodgrass was
intent on capturing some kind of grasshoppers, and did not seem to care
whether there were Indians about or not. More and more of the savages
came into view.
"Hadn't we better skip?" asked Nestor of the hunter.
"There are a few more than I reckoned on," was the reply. "I guess we
may as well skedaddle if we don't want trouble. I don't know how my nag
will run, compared to the Indian ponies, but----"
"Better get in the auto," suggested Nestor. "It will hold six on a
pinch."
By this time Ned was frantically cranking up the machine. But, though
he turned the flywheel with all his strength, while Bob attended to the
spark and gasolene levers, the machine would not start.
"What's the matter?" cried Jerry, who had delayed, to pick up some of
the baggage that was unloaded for dinner.
"She's stuck!" yelled Bob.
Jerry sprang to the cranking handle. His success was no better than
Ned's. There were a few faint compressions, but that was all.
"Better start if you're goin' to," said Broswick, coming up. "They're
almost here now."
"We can't start!" exclaimed Jerry.
"Then we'll have to fight!" observed Broswick, coolly.
Suddenly the air was filled with fierce howls and yells.
"You boys git in the back part of the machine," cautioned the hunter.
"We men will attend to the redskins. Maybe they are only off on a
holiday junket, account of bein' paid off by the Government. In that
case they may let us alone. But they might be ugly, an'----"
Just then a bullet, with an angry zip, passed over Broswick's head.
"They're out fer business an' not fun!" he exclaimed. At the same
instant he threw up his rifle and fired. A howl of pain came in answer,
and one Indian fell from his horse.
"I only took him in the leg," said the hunter, grimly. "No use killin'
any if we can avoid it."
Jerry, Bob and Ned sank down in the tonneau. Nestor and the hunter
lined up in front of the auto and stood with ready weapons. Professor
Snodgrass, with a revolver, which Nestor had given him, seemed more
afraid of the weapon than of the Indians.
Then, with savage yells, the band of redskins, who, as it afterward
developed, had gone on a rampage from their reservation because they
were dissatisfied with the Government rations, closed around the auto.
They fired their guns off as fast as they could load them.
But, either because they were poor shots, or because they didn't want
to hit the adventurers, the Indians did no damage. Several bullets came
uncomfortably close, and one or two grazed the auto, but no one was hurt.
Then the savages, with whoops and yells, began circling about the
machine. Around and around they went, riding their ponies at top speed.
Suddenly, as if in response to some signal, they withdrew quite a
distance, but still hemmed the travelers in a circle.
[Illustration: THE SAVAGES BEGAN CIRCLING ABOUT THE MACHINE.]
"They're up to some mischief," said Nestor.
"Shall we wing one or two just to show we have bullets?"
"Not for the world," replied Broswick. "Our only hope is not to get them
too riled. They may draw off an' leave us alone."
But this was not the Indians' intention. Once more they began making a
wide circle about the auto.
"I see what the trouble was!" cried Jerry, looking over from the tonneau
to the front of the dashboard. "The sparking plug was out. No wonder we
couldn't start the machine."
He reached over and put the small brass pin in the proper socket.
"Now I'm going to have another try!" he called to Broswick and Nestor.
"Get ready to jump in the machine!"
Before Nestor could stop him, Jerry had leaped to the ground. He ran
around to the front of the auto, seized the cranking handle and gave
several vigorous turns. As he did so a chorus of savage yells arose from
the Indian ranks, and several more shots were fired.