CHAPTER IX.

AT FAULT.

As a rule the American Indian is not partial to cigarette smoking, that

being a vice that he is willing to leave to his more civilized brother;

but the Comanche in front of Avon Burnet, and so near him, left no doubt

of his purpose.

As the tiny flame burned more brightly, he shaded it with his hands and

puffed the twisted roll of tobacco, like one who knew how liable the

blaze was to be blown out by the wind that rustled among the mesquite

bushes. He was such an expert at the business, however, that he met with

no difficulty.

The glow of the flame shone between the fingers, where they slightly

touched each other, giving them a crimson hue, while the point of the

nose, the eyes, and the front of the face were revealed almost as

distinctly as was the countenance of the warrior whom Dinah discovered

in the act of firing the roof of the cabin.

This Comanche was more ill-favored than the other and was in middle

life. There was something in his appearance which gave the youth the

suspicion that he was the chief or leader of the band of raiders, though

there could be no certainty on that point.

Nothing would have been easier than for Avon, from where he stood, to

shoot down the savage and appropriate his horse for himself. There was

an instant when he meditated such a step, but though many a veteran of

the frontier would have seized the chance with eagerness, he shrank from

such a deliberate taking of human life.

The youth had already shown his pluck and readiness to use his weapon

when necessary, but he could not justify himself in an act like the one

named.

But he did not mean to stand idle when there was a call for instant and

decisive action.

While the Comanche used his two hands in manipulating his match and

cigarette, his rifle leaned against the limbs of one of the largest

mesquite bushes, where he could snatch it up without stirring a foot.

It was not to be supposed that he had dismounted for the purpose of

kindling his cigarette, for he could have done that on the back of his

mustang, as well as when on the ground. He must have decided that he was

nigh enough to the other warriors to light his tobacco before joining

them on foot.

The youth was sure the steed before him was a fine one, for it is rare

to see one of those people without an excellent horse, and he resolved

to capture it.

At the instant the match was at its best, and the point of the cigarette

was glowing red, Avon stepped toward the motionless steed, passing along

the side which was furthest from his master. The beast saw him on the

instant, and gave a slight whinny and recoiled.

His master spoke sharply, while the cigarette was between his teeth. Not

suspecting the cause of his alarm, he supposed it was trifling and gave

it no attention. But when his animal, with a loud snort, wheeled and

started off on a gallop, the Indian threw down his match, called out

angrily, and, grasping his gun, sprang forward to intercept him.

It will be remembered that the darkness was more dense in the mesquite

bush than on the open prairie, and, although he caught a glimpse of the

vanishing mustang, he saw nothing of the figure on his back, for the

reason that, when the nimble youth vaulted thither, he threw himself

forward on his neck.

The Indian must have been astonished by the action of his animal, but he

probably concluded he would not wander far, and would be within reach in

the morning when needed. So he refrained from attempting anything like

pursuit, which would have been foolish under the circumstances.

It was a clever exploit on the part of Avon Burnet, and he could not

repress a feeling of exultation over the success. Boldness, dash, and

peculiarly favoring circumstances had taken him through the Comanche

lines, when a repetition of the attempt would fail ninety-nine times

out of a hundred.

But while he was justified in being grateful, there was enough serious

business still before him. He could not forget that the friends in the

cabin were in dire peril and no time ought to be wasted in bringing them

relief.

The first indispensable act was to locate himself, so as to gain an idea

of the points of the compass, without which it was beyond his power to

reach the camp of his friends.

A brief walk brought the horse out of the bush and he stood on the open

prairie. The mustang was without saddle or bridle, except a single

buffalo thong, that was twisted over his nose and by which his master

guided him. Avon had ridden the animals in the same way, and since this

mustang became tractable the instant he felt anyone on his back, such an

equestrian as the young Texan met with no difficulty whatever.

But he realized that a serious difficulty confronted him when he

attempted to locate himself. The flurry in the bush had so mixed up his

ideas of direction, that he was all at sea.

Not a star twinkled in the cloudy sky, nor could he tell in what quarter

of the heavens the moon was hidden. Looking in the supposed direction of

the cabin, he saw only gloom, while it was equally dark when he gazed

toward the spot where he believed the camp of the cowboys lay.

Between the home of Captain Shirril and the spot where his men awaited

his coming were several elevations and depressions of land, so that had

the Texans been burning a fire, as was likely, it would not show until

more than half the intervening distance was passed. The cattle were

herded to the northward, so that in the event of a stampede it was

easier to head them on the right course over the Great Cattle Trail.

A person placed in the situation of young Burnet is apt to go astray, no

matter how extended his experience in wandering abroad at night, unless

he is able to start right. This was the difficulty with Avon, who was

too wise to depend upon what impressions took possession of him, since

it is almost the invariable rule that such impressions are wrong.

There was one faint hope: the Comanches in the vicinity of the cabin had

been indulging in shouting and firing their guns. These sounds would

prove of great help, but to his dismay, though he sat for several

minutes motionless on his mustang and listening, he heard nothing of the

kind.

He knew the wind was unfavorable, but he was compelled to believe that

he had ridden much further than he first supposed, in order to be beyond

reach of the reports. After mounting his mustang, he had sent him

scurrying on a dead run through the bush, and kept it up for several

minutes, before emerging into the open country: that was sufficient to

take him a long way and, as he believed, excluded the one means of

guidance which otherwise would have been his.

"Helloa! what does that mean?"

In peering around in the gloom, he saw, apparently a long way off to the

left, a star-like point on the prairie, which shone out with an

increasing gleam. Wondering what it could signify, he sat for a minute

or two, attentively watching it, but unable to solve the interesting

question.

"These Comanches are as fond of smoking as are our men, and I suppose

one of them has some trouble in lighting his pipe or cigarette--helloa!

there it goes!"

The light which was so interesting to him suddenly went out, and all was

blank darkness again.

He waited and looked for several minutes, but it did not reappear. At

the moment it vanished, he fancied he heard a slight sound, but it was

too indefinite to identify.

Had the young man but known that the light which he had seen was burning

on the roof of his own home, and that it was Dinah who extinguished it

so abruptly, he would have shaped his course far differently.

The Great Cattle Trail · 第 9 / 34 章