CHEROKEE BILL RECRUITING.
Still upon the young Englishman were the rags which had been taken from
the dead Indian for the need of warmth. These he was glad to cast off,
donning in their stead, as a shade less repulsive, the outer garments
of the senseless scout.
He dragged him out of the way. He mounted the horse and, filled with
his idea of separating the two remaining bandits so as to have a
single-handed battle in the end for the young lady, he returned towards
the friends awaiting Garrod's report. They had come to a halt halfway
down the abrupt slope. As soon as he beheld them, Ranald waved Sol's
cap to beckon them to come on. The distance between, the gloom in the
defile, and the well-remembered garments and horse, sufficed to destroy
suspicion in any but Cormick.
"Thar you are," said Pete, laughing in relief, though he could not
descry the features of the horseman; "thar's Sol beckoning us on--he
hasn't been no time scouting the channel."
"He's been much too quick," objected Cormick, sulkily.
"Well, aren't you coming on? What's the matter? Does your _cayuse_ kick
at so little an added load as the young gal? 'Tell 'ee what, I'll be
proud to have the charge of her!"
The old ranger shook his head dubiously.
"Are you sure that's Sol?"
"Am I sure of my being in my boots? What new 'skeeter's bit you?"
"'Seems to this old man that Garrod bulks up larger in the saddle."
"So he will after the breakfast we are all sp'iling for. Let out your
pony--don't you see he is waving his hand that all's clear?"
"Why don't he come back all the way, then?"
"Because he's no such ass as to want double trouble. You'd tire out a
Salt Lake Saint, Cormick, you would! Car'fulness is the first thing
to put in your bag when you come out on the plains, but you don't
want to have car'fulness as pepper _and_ salt _and_ sugar in all your
messes, morn, noon and night; _and_ Thanksgiving, _and_ New Year's,
_and_ Independence Day! Why, old father, you're getting skeered o' your
shadder--which it ar' no beauty on the snow, by thunder! Here, I've had
my full measure of this hanging back from breakfast, and if you freeze
thar, I foller the thaw and let Sol carry me into camp."
"Go on, then!" replied Cormick. "I tell 'ee thar's some devilment awake
afore us this morning! And that's not Sol Garrod drawing us into a
trap. He's a bad egg, but he wasn't made to throw at a pardner's head.
You'll see, you'll see!"
"Eggs or no eggs, I am going on! Follow at your own pace! But mind! If
you gallop off with the young gal, in whose ransom I have my share as
the fellow finder, I'll report you to Captain Kidd--and you'll not be
safe this side o' the Jordan."
In very open order they resumed the march. The cavalier moved on away
as they started, stride for stride.
"Look at that!" cried Cormick, triumphantly; "See him ride away."
"Why should he not ride on in front of us, and keep the way clear? He
know's the picket's duty--a dragoon deserter, anyhow, he'd ought to."
Still wrangling, they penetrated the defile, where Niobraska Pete
taunted his elder to press on. At a third of the course, nothing
justified Cormick's apprehensions.
"Sol has got out of the way altogether now, though," he remonstrated.
"Pooh! He has darted on to tell cook to dish up, that's all."
"Well, I shan't be satisfied till I have had the first mouthful down,"
said the old man, with a still uneasy look around.
Presently he pulled up his horse, saying that he was in a good spot
for defence; the rising ground over a bulging root of a large cedar
crossing the narrowing path.
"You go on and give the call if all goes well and it is no bogus Sol,"
said he. "Here I stay till the way is safe to my belief."
"He's stubborn as a mule," muttered Pete. "A stamp crusher would not
shake him. Old man," he said, angrily, "I _shall_ git on, and tell the
captain you are up to some trick as regards the young lady. Don't you
fear, though, miss, the captain will stew him like a fish in the kettle
if he plays any tricks on the fair prize of the band represented by its
three scouters in company."
With that he disappeared in the forest cleft, and the snowy crust
ceased to crackle under his horse's hoofs.
The stillness became oppressive, broken only by the swishing of the
branches suddenly relieved of snowy burdens by the effect of the
sunbeams and springing up gaily. All the beasts were hibernating or
asleep; all the birds gone south except the Arctic robins and the
sedately soaring eagles, whose white heads seemed frosted and presented
to the sun to be freed of the chill.
Expectation weighed as poignantly upon the unfortunate girl as on the
old border ruffian. Insensibly yielding to the desire to battle anxiety
with even futile action, he was slowly pushing on his horse when a
peculiar sound at last in advance caused him to check it. Within a few
seconds, the horse of Niobraska Pete came back to its companion, with
no thought but refuge from some startling horror. Pete had not raised
an alarm; consequently that smear of blood on the mane denoted that
he had been unhorsed by a deathblow. Nor did Sol, nor his mysterious
personator appear, and Cormick felt assured that he was left alone, and
that foes were planted between him and the camp, of which he almost
inhaled the savory fumes. The situation was maddening.
"You are bad luck," he snarled at the girl, with the superstition of
the low sort of white men, who soon equal the reds in such fancies. "It
has cost two good men's lives just to have met you."
He waited a while longer, but there was no fresh alarm.
"Hark ye," said he, roughly. "I am going to put you on that horse, and
we must circle round out of this accursed glade. If you try to 'part
co.' I shall shoot you with my first shot. It strikes me, from the
way that we have been beset, it is because of you, and hence you are
worth as much money as I had concluded from your story; but thar's no
calculating on what anybody says nowadays."
As he drew the riderless steed towards him, and tried to make it sidle
up flank to flank, its ears were moved in affright. It sniffed some
alarming taint on the air, and set up so furious a kicking that the
headgear was detached, and left in the astonished bandit's grasp. Then,
emitting a scream like a maimed warhorse on the battle field, it dashed
into the first opening, and crashed on out of all perception.
"It smells the war paint, by all that's cruel! Injins!" muttered
Cormick. "But why did I hear no whoops when they made their 'coups' on
Sol and Pete?"
At the same instant, as if to warrant his reflection, a vibrating yell
of triumph burst forth so clearly as to seem at their elbows--a war
whoop of which Cormick had never heard the like. It was so provocatory
in tone that, irresistibly, at least a hundred savage cries answered it
inquiringly from all parts of the ravine traversed by the bandits.
"Why, it's a nest of them," groaned the old scoundrel, aghast, and only
mechanically restraining his plunging steed.
In the lull which followed--painful by contrast with that hideous
clamour--a horseman dashed into the glen and faced the paralysed
scout. The clothes were of Sol Garrod; but at the cry of "Oh, Mr.
Dearborn! You! Help, help!" from his saddle companion, Cormick was
relieved of any doubt as to his previous surmise of a deception.
"Ah, ah," grunted he, "now I know why he never came back."
With one man, and a young white only before him, he recovered full
sway of his homicidal acquirements, and his gun and that Ranald had
snatched from the burial place were levelled at each other.
"Don't fire!" appealed Ulla, though not in fear for herself, and "Don't
fire!" cried a louder and manly voice, as an additional personage for
the group leaped down from a rock and fell beside the restless horse.
How it reared at this unannounced apparition! That rearing disturbed
Cormick's aim, and whilst his shot passed above Dearborn's head, that
of the latter buried itself in his groin, after scarring the horse's
neck. The newcomer seized the bridle, and shook off the wounded man,
whilst Ranald gladly received the half-swooning lady.
"What the thunder did you fire for?" demanded he, angrily.
The young people stared at him in surprise. He spoke perfect English,
but, we know, Cherokee Bill as perfectly resembled a full-blooded
Indian when animated with ferocity. Besides, his buffalo robe was
tucked up into his belt to leave his legs free, and a ruddy scalp
dangled in a tuck of it.
"A dog of a Crow!" he explained, seeing that it caught their eyes.
"He'll beg no more powder and ball at the Agency to shoot the two
legged buffalo in 'store' clothes, that the wise style a _fresh_ from
the States."
Perplexed by this singular speech, so unlike either an Indian's or a
white man's, the young people had immediately turned their offended
eyes aloof. Ulla must have believed she was saved on ascertaining that
Dearborn had never relaxed his endeavours to come up with her and her
captors. She laughed and sobbed hysterically like one aroused from a
nightmare and excessively delighted; it was but a play of fancy. Alas!
There was to be another waking, and that not long delayed.
Suddenly the Cherokee's hand was laid upon the Englishman's shoulder,
and he said:
"Rouse, sir! That horse must have cantered into the gold seekers'
camp--they are already in the ravine."
"Gold seekers?"
"Robbers, thieves, and all that!" explained Bill Williams, hastily.
"There is no safety for you that way. On the other hand, there are the
Crows--four score at least. I have been counting their noses, so near
that I could have killed more than that one decently."
"Oh, what must we do?" ejaculated Miss Maclan.
"The lady asks you what'll we best do?" repeated the half-breed
sarcastically, eyeing the young man as if to "value him up."
"Cut our way through them!"
"That's good to say, but how can it be done? The gold seekers number
two hundred, and perhaps half of them are crowding in off the plain
now. You and I may trust these horses as far as horses can travel, but
encumbered with the lady, that one will run double risk as a bigger
mark of an arrow and bullet."
"I dare!" said Ulla simply.
But Dearborn shuddered at the idea.
"Take her, man! I will trust you," said he, "stranger though you are,
in all senses of the word; and leave me to detain them from an instant
pursuit."
"Oh, they have their own roasting pieces to spit," said Bill.
"What is your advice, sir? Your tone is that of a commander here," said
Ulla, regarding the Cherokee steadily as he bore himself nobly erect
and unaffected, though, better than either, he estimated the dangers of
the situation aright.
"I say, in the hands of these robbers you will run no risk for the
present, whilst I guarantee this man's safety if we but reach a certain
point on these horses."
"I flee, and abandon the lady into the power of disreputable men? No
such coward, sir!"
"Coward, when I want you to run the double gauntlet of Indians and
desperadoes! I don't see what she could despise you for. Hark! They
come on both sides--stealthily, but I hear them! The young woman cannot
accompany me where I must lead--are we all to be uselessly crumpled up,
or all to be saved?"
"Go!" said Ulla; "Who will save me if you are slain?" in a voice meant
for Dearborn's ear alone.
But the Cherokee overheard her, and instantly subjoined:
"You're the queen trump! I have offered to help you in this strait
because you are white, and your enemies are dogs! But now, on the soul
of my fathers! Supposed to be chasing the phantom buffalo in the aerial
realm which those mountaintops support--I swear to save you from this
hellish crew, or my bones shall swing in the hangman's loop!"
"I hear you, believe you, and I thank you!" exclaimed Miss Maclan,
forcing a smile through tears. "But _our_ enemies come! Hasten away,
in Heaven's name! Dearborn, we shall meet again under that heaven, or
within its golden gates!"
She threw him a kiss with a pretence of playfulness, and bounded away
in the direction of the plain, crying:
"Do not shoot! It is only a woman! I surrender!"
At the same time Cherokee Bill leaped on the free horse over the tail
up, _à l'Indienne_, and catching the other reins, plunged into the
thicket, bidding the Englishman bend low to elude thorns and missiles,
and heedless of his reproaches. In their rapid course, it seemed to the
latter that he saw groups and pairs of grappling men plying clubs and
knives, but no reports of firearms cracked the icicles off the boughs.
Each contesting party showed a respectful dislike to bringing on a
regular engagement.
"What's your horse good for still?" queried the half-breed in a whisper.
"Five or six minutes more at this headlong pace."
"We are nearing an ambush, through which we must cleave our way. Do no
less than I do, and we shall be safe!"
"With heaven my aid, I shall do more!"
The half-breed found a broad way by a miracle of knowledge and
faultless application.
"To the right--wheel to the right!" vociferated he abruptly, as half a
dozen arrows and a light spear or two whizzed under the noses of the
suddenly turned horses.
"Ride them down! Now! Hurrah!"
"Hurrah!" cried Dearborn, firing a shot and hurling his gun in his
frenzy at the row of dark faces that grinned with flaming eyes like a
wall before him.
Few men, except with a long spear, can steadily receive cavalry. Only
one Indian really awaited the English youth on his approach; his lance
snapped in in the horse's chest. It fell on him, enclosing him between
the forelegs. Dearborn was dismounted; but Bill was before him, on the
ground, steadied him as he rose, put a revolver in his hand, and bade
him fire "low and fast." They had passed through the ambuscade at the
cost of the two horses, and the ten shots they poured forth enabled
them to have a start in their retreat on foot. They were speedily in a
hollow of the rocky bluffs, where no sane Indian would follow an armed
foe. The ground was sandy, now mingled with dry snow as hard, and at
random rose needles of stone of varied dimensions, among which the half
Indian trapper serenely threaded his way. At the foot of a nearly
perpendicular mountain they were brought to a standstill. The face
seemed smooth as if polished at first glance, but there ran a ledge, or
cornice, as Alpine climbers call it, along that level spread.
"I see now why a woman could not have accompanied us in our flight,"
said Dearborn.
"No, you don't quite," replied Bill, drily, as he led the young man
slowly upwards on this narrow footway. No quadruped could have mounted,
for these men had to proceed with their backs to the wall, or face to
it, in the case of the inexperienced Englishman. (He feared vertigo if
he looked out or down on the abyss.) At last the ledge ended abruptly.
But, about breast high, the granite was cracked horizontally, just wide
enough for one's finger to be hid in it.
"Watch me," said Bill, calmly. "If you do not think you can follow me
in such a spider's way, cling where you are till I bring a friend and a
lasso that we may swing you over here. It was necessary that we should
leave no trail those dogs dare pursue," he added apologetically.
"Go on," said Ranald, who felt his blood boil with the determination to
show this strange hybrid that he had, at least the bravery of the white
race, if not the athletic craft of the aborigines.
Thus adjured, the Cherokee inserted his hands in the prolonged crevice,
let his body hang at the end of his arms with no other hold; and
gradually worked himself along some twenty feet.
The watcher suffered more than he with the suspense. After a period
seeming immeasurable, the way was clear; the rock was untenanted
save by the young man, and he might have believed he was abandoned
in this horrific site by a deluding demon. He looked up: a thousand
feet of granite seemed bowing out to fall and entomb him; he looked
outward--miles of ether intervened betwixt him and the tops of gigantic
trees; he looked down, just for an instant's fraction, and felt his
heart shrink; he was some three thousand feet over a cup of frozen
water--a lake diminished thus by the space.
"Come!" said the Cherokee's voice, designedly emotionless that he might
not affect the young man in any way.
The latter breathed a prayer to live for the sake of the bereaved
daughter of his patron, and steadily swung himself over the chasm by
his eight fingers alone; the thumbs seemed useless; the cliff fell away
insensibly beneath him, so that his feet failed to touch. It was the
dream of a man-fly acted out.
Finally, the end of the crack was attained. Here the climber without an
assistant was a doomed man, unless he could retreat as he came--almost
an impossibility. But, on this occasion, Cherokee Bill was waiting,
with the loop of a counterbalanced rope in his hand, which he lowered
over the young man and drew up so as to engirdle him. More than his
pair of arms were not needed, considering the size of the boulder which
weighed the farther end of the cord; but, none the less, two other
men were hauling on it. In a few minutes the young man stood on the
threshold of the cavern of the Old Nick's Jump. This was the only other
way in.
With a cordial wave of the hand, Cherokee Bill presented his protégé to
Jim the Yager and Mr. Filditch.
"A recruit," said he, laconically, "and _A one!_ We are going to have
some rare tussles, right soon and right here; but this friend o' ours
will keep up his end o' the board, and don't you forget who says so!"