THE PURSUERS
The parson expressed his disappointment in vigorous language, when,
instead of the horses, the hybrids proved to be the only animals near
them.
"I am afraid this proves one thing," he said.
"What is that?"
"I have had a dread all along that the Indians would run off the
horses, but it seems to me that if they had done so, they would have
taken the mules."
"It strikes me as more likely that the leftenant took the horses, so
as to prevent our follering him and the gal."
"That sounds reasonable," said the parson thoughtfully; "the plan is
so simple that it must have occurred to him. The mules are too slow to
be of any use to us, and it may be as well that we shall have to go
afoot."
"How do you figure that out?"
"They will conclude that, if we haven't any horses, we won't follow
them; they will, therefore, take their time and travel so slow, that
we'll have the chance to swoop down on them when they are not
expecting it."
"I s'pose there's what you call philosophy in that, but it doesn't hit
me very favorable. We'll see what the cap thinks--helloa!"
Clearly and distinctly through the still air came the signal by which
Captain Dawson was to announce his discovery of the animals. The call
scattered all thoughts of making the journey on foot, and, wheeling
about, the two started off at a rapid pace to join their friend. At
the same moment the call sounded again, and they answered it to let it
be known they understood the situation. In a brief time they came upon
Captain Dawson impatiently awaiting them. There was no need for him to
tell them he had been successful in his search, for he was standing
beside the three horses, which were quickly saddled and bridled. A
minute later the men vaulted upon their backs and the captain said
crisply:
"Now we are off!"
Each seemed to be inspired by the spirit of adventure. They sat erect
in the saddles, drew in a deep inhalation of the keen night air, and
moved off with their horses on a brisk walk, which almost immediately
became a canter. For a mile, the trail through Dead Man's Gulch was
nearly as hard and even as a country highway. The width of the canyon
varied from a few rods to a quarter of a mile, with the mountain
ridges on either hand towering far up into cloudland, the tallest
peaks crowned with snow which the sun never dissolved.
The tiny stream wound like a silvery serpent through the stretch of
green, succulent grass, narrowing gorge and obtruding rock and
boulder. Now and then the path led across the water, which was so
shallow that it only plashed about the fetlocks of the horses. Captain
Dawson, in his impetuosity, kept a few paces in front of the other
two, as if he were the leader. When the space increased too much he
reined up his animal and waited until his friends joined him. They
were grim, resolute and for most of the time had little to say to one
another, though, as may be supposed, their thoughts were of anything
but a pleasant nature.
So long as the moon held her place near the zenith, the canyon was
suffused and flooded with its soft radiance, but the rifts of clouds
drifting before its face rendered the light at times treacherous and
uncertain. The horses had rested so long, and had had such extensive
browsing on the rich pasturage, that they were in fine condition, and
the gallop seemed more grateful to them than an ordinary walking gait.
The air was cool and the fine trail, at this portion of the journey,
made all the conditions favorable. After a time however, the ascent
and descent would appear, the ground would become rough and the best
the animals could do would be to walk.
When Parson Brush remarked that Lieutenant Russell had proved himself
an idiot when he left these horses behind for his pursuers to use, the
captain and Ruggles agreed with him.
"I don't understand it," said Brush; "he must have expected we would
be hot after him, within the very hour we learned of what he had done,
or can it be that he and she concluded we would say, 'Depart in
peace?' If so, the young man shall have a terrible awakening."
"It seems to me," said Ruggles, "that it is more likely he believed
that with the start he would gain, it didn't matter whether we
follered or not, feelin' sure that he could keep out of reach and get
to Sacramento so fur ahead of us, that he needn't give us a thought."
"I am not very familiar with the trail," remarked the captain, "for,
as you know, I have passed over it only twice; first, nearly five
years ago, when I went to the war, and a few months since when I came
back."
"But you and Russell did not lose your way," said the parson.
"That was because we did our traveling by day. We tried it once at
night, but came within a hair of tumbling over a precipice a thousand
feet deep. This will be easy enough, so long as we have the sun to
help us."
"You probably know as much about the trail as Wade and I, for neither
of us has been over it often. Consequently, when we travel by night,
we shall have to go it blind, or rather shall do so after awhile,
since all is plain sailing now."
"I ain't so sure of that," observed Ruggles doubtfully; "we must have
come a mile already and ought to have made a turn by this time."
Captain Dawson checked his horse and peered ahead.
"Can it be we are off the track? We have come nearer two miles than
one--ah!"
Just then the moon emerged from the obscuring clouds and their field
of vision so broadened that they saw themselves face to face with an
impassable barrier. The canyon closed directly in front of them like an
immense gate of stone. It was impossible to advance a hundred feet
further.
"Well, I'm blessed if this isn't a pretty situation!" exclaimed the
captain.
"We have passed the opening, but we haven't far to return, and you
know that a bad beginning brings a good ending."
"Humph! I would rather chance it on a good beginning."
Ruggles was the first to wheel and strike his horse into a gallop,
which he did with the remark that he knew where the right passage was
located. His companions were almost beside him. The canyon was of that
peculiar conformation that, while it terminated directly in front, it
contained an abrupt angle between where the party had halted and the
mining settlement. At that point it was so wide that the little
stream, which might have served for a guide, was lost sight of. Had
they followed the brook, they would not have gone astray. The only
inconvenience was the slight delay, which in their restless mood tried
their spirits to the utmost. Captain Dawson muttered to himself and
urged his horse so angrily that he again placed himself in advance.
His mood was no more savage than that of his companions, but he chafed
at everything which caused delay, no matter how trifling, in the
pursuit.
Fearing that he might go wrong, Ruggles spurred up beside him. The
distance passed was less than any one expected it to be, when Ruggles
called out:
"Here we are!"
The exclamation was caused by the hoofs of their horses plashing in
the water. They seemed to share the impatience of their riders; "all
we have to do now is to keep to the stream; obsarve its turn."
Its course was almost at right angles to that which they had been
following. The animals were cantering easily, when suddenly a deeper
gloom than usual overspread the valley like a pall. This came from a
heavy bank of clouds sweeping before the moon. The steeds were drawn
down to a walk, but the obscurity was not dense enough to shut out the
chasm-like opening, where the mountains seemed to part, riven by some
terrific convulsion ages before. The enormous walls drew back the door
as if to invite them to enter and press the pursuit of the couple that
were fleeing from a just and righteous wrath.
The width of the canyon had now dwindled to a few yards, and the stream
expanding and shallow, occupied so much of the space that the horses
were continually splashing through it, but the rise and fall of the
trail was so slight that the gallop might have continued with little
danger of mishap.
The formation of the party was in "Indian file," with Captain Dawson
leading, Ruggles next and Brush bringing up the rear. All three
animals were walking, for the light of the moon was variable and often
faint, while the danger of a mis-step was ever present, and was likely
to bring a fatal ending of the pursuit almost before it had fairly
begun. Occasionally the gloom in the narrow gorge was so deep that
they distinguished one another's figures indistinctly, but the animals
were left mostly to themselves. They seemed to know what was expected
of them and showed no hesitation. It was impossible for them to go
wrong, for it was much the same as if crossing a bridge, with its
protecting barrier on either hand. The horse of the captain showed his
self-confidence once or twice by a faint whinney and a break from the
walk into a trot, but his rider checked him.
"Not yet; heaven knows that I am as anxious to push on as you, but we
have already made one blunder and we can't afford another; when the
time comes that it is safe to trot you shall do so and perhaps run."
"Hush!" called Brush from the rear; "I hear a curious sound."
"What does it seem to be?"
"It is impossible to tell; let's stop for a moment."
As the three animals stood motionless, the strange noise was audible.
It was a deep, hollow roar rapidly increasing in volume and intensity,
and resembled the warning of a tornado or cyclone advancing through
the forest. The animals, as is the case at such times, were nervous
and frightened. They elevated their heads, pricked their ears, snuffed
the air and the animal of the parson trembled with terror.
The three believed that something in the nature of a cyclone was
approaching, or it might be a cloudburst several miles away, whose
deluge had swollen the stream into a rushing torrent that would
overwhelm them where they stood, caught inextricably in a trap.
The terrifying roar, however, was neither in front nor at the rear,
but above them,--over their heads! From the first warning to the end
was but a few seconds. The sound increased with appalling power and
every eye was instinctively turned upward.
In the dim obscurity they saw a dark mass of rock, weighing hundreds
of tons, descending like a prodigious meteor, hurled from the heavens.
It had been loosened on the mountain crest a half mile above, and was
plunging downward with inconceivable momentum. Striking some
obstruction, it rebounded like a rubber ball against the opposite side
of the gorge, then recoiled, still diving downward, oscillating like a
pendulum from wall to wall, whirling with increasing speed until it
crashed to the bottom of the gorge with a shock so terrific that the
earth and mountain trembled.
Landing in the stream, the water was flung like bird shot right and
left, stinging the faces of the men fifty feet distant. They sat awed
and silent until Ruggles spoke:
"Now if that stone had hit one of us on the head it would have hurt."
"Probably it would," replied the captain, who had difficulty in
quieting his horse; "at any rate, I hope no more of them will fall
till we are out of the way."
"I wonder whether that could have been done on purpose," remarked the
parson.
"No," said Ruggles; "the leftenant couldn't know anything about our
being purty near the right spot to catch it."
"I alluded to Indians,--not to him."
But Ruggles and the captain did not deem such a thing credible. A
whole tribe of red men could not have loosened so enormous a mass of
stone, while, if poised as delicately as it must have been, they would
have known nothing of the fact. Sometimes an immense oak, sound and
apparently as firm as any in the forest around it, suddenly plunges
downward and crashes to the earth, from no imaginable cause. So, vast
masses of rock on the mountain side which have held their places for
centuries, seem to leap from their foundations and tear their way with
resistless force into the valley below. This was probably one of those
accidental displacements, liable to occur at any hour of the day or
night, which had come so startlingly near crushing the three men to
death.
Captain Dawson drew a match from his pocket and scraping it along his
thigh, held it to the face of his watch.
"Just midnight and we are not more than half a dozen miles from
home."
"And how far do you suppose _they_ are?" asked the parson.
"Probably five times as much, if not more."
"But they will not travel at night, and by sunrise we ought to be
considerably nearer to them than now."
"You can't be certain about that. Lieutenant Russell knows me too
well to loiter on the road; he has a good horse and the pony of Nellie
is a tough animal; both will be urged to the utmost; for they must be
sure the pursuit will be a hard one."
The discomforting fact in the situation was that if the fugitives, as
they may be considered, pushed their flight with vigor, there was no
reason why they should not prevent any lessening of the distance
between them and their pursuers, and since they would naturally fear
pursuit, it was to be expected that they would use all haste. The hope
was that on account of Nellie, the animals would not keep up the
flight for so many hours out of the twenty-four, as the pursuers would
maintain it.
The trail steadily ascended and became so rough and uneven that the
horses frequently stumbled. This made their progress slow and
compelled the three men, despite themselves, to feel the prudence of
resting until daylight, but not one of them wished to do so, since the
night pursuit was the only phase of the business which brought with it
the belief that they were really lessening the distance separating
them from the two in advance.
Eager as the couple were to get through the mountains and reach
Sacramento, where for the first time they could feel safe from their
pursuers, the young officer was too wise to incur the risk of breaking
down their horses, for such a mishap would be a most serious one
indeed, and fraught with fatal consequences.
There was little fear of the pursuers going astray. Captain Dawson had
an extraordinary memory for places, as he repeatedly proved by
recalling some landmark that he had noticed on his previous trip.
Furthermore, the gorge was so narrow that in a certain sense, it may
be said, they were fenced in, and would have found it hard to wander
to the right or left, had they made the effort.
After an hour of steady climbing they reached an altitude which
brought with it a sharp change of temperature. The air became so
chilly that Ruggles and Brush flung their blankets about their
shoulders and found the protection added to their comfort. The horses,
too, began to show the effects of their severe exertion. Their long
rest had rendered them somewhat "soft," though the hardening would be
rapid. After a few days' work they would not mind such exertion as
that to which they were now forced.
When a sort of amphitheatre was reached, it was decided to draw rein
for a brief while, out of sympathy for their panting animals.
"I thought if we failed to find our horses," remarked the parson, "we
wouldn't find it hard to keep up the pursuit on foot; I have changed
my mind."
He looked back over the sloping trail, which speedily vanished in the
gloom and the eyes of the other two were turned in the same direction.
At the moment of doing so, the animals again became frightened, so
that, despite their fatigue, it was hard to restrain them.
"There's something down there," remarked the captain slipping from his
saddle; "Wade, you are the nearest, can you see anything?"
Ruggles was out of the saddle in an instant, Winchester in hand.
"I catched sight of something," he said in an undertone; "look after
my horse, while I find out what it is."
"Have a care," cautioned the parson; "it may be an Indian."
"That's what I think it is," replied Ruggles, who instantly started
down the trail rifle in hand, his posture a crouching one and his
senses strung to the highest point.
He passed from view almost on the instant, and his companions listened
with intense anxiety for what was to follow. Suddenly the sharp crack
of their friend's rifle rang out in the solemn stillness, the report
echoing again and again through the gorge, with an effect that was
startling even to such experienced men. It was the only sound that
came to them, and, while they were wondering what it meant, Ruggles
reappeared among them with the noiselessness of a shadow.
"It was a bear," he explained; "I think he scented the animals and was
follering on the lookout for a chance at 'em."
"Did you kill him?"
"Don't think I did; he must have heard me comin' and was scared; he
went down the trail faster than I could; when I seen that I couldn't
catch him, I let fly without taking much aim. Maybe I hit him;
leastways, he traveled so much faster that I give it up and come
back."
The party lingered for half an hour more, but as the horses showed no
further fear, they concluded that bruin had taken to heart the lesson
he received and would bother them no further.
The mountains still towered on every hand. The stream had long since
disappeared among the rocks and the gorge had become narrower.
Generally it was no more than a dozen feet in width, occasionally
expanding to two or three times that extent. The moon had moved over
so far that only its faint reflection against the dark walls and
masses of rock availed the horsemen. The sky seemed to contain an
increasing number of clouds and there were indications of a storm,
which might not break for a day or two, and as likely as not would not
break at all.
The traveling, despite its difficulty, was comparatively safe. The
trail did not lead along the sides of precipices, with a climbing
wall on one side and a continuous descent on the other, but it was
solid and extended across from one ridge to the other. Because of this
fact the three pushed their animals hard, knowing that it would not be
long before they would have to be favored.
"I don't know whether we are wise to keep this up as we are doing,"
said the captain, "but I know there are few places where we can travel
in the darkness and I feel like making the most of them."
"It is only a question of what the horses are able to stand," replied
Brush; "it is easy enough for us to ride, but a very different thing
for them to carry us. We must guard against their breaking down."
"I will look out for that, but it is strange that when we were making
ready to start we forgot one important matter."
"What was that?"
"We did not bring a mouthful of food."
"We shall have little trouble in shooting what game we need."
"Perhaps not and perhaps we shall. The lieutenant and I found on our
way from Sacramento that, although game appeared to be plenty, it had
an exasperating habit of keeping out of range when we particularly
needed it. Delay will be necessary to get food, and the reports of
our guns are likely to give warning, just when it is dangerous."
"It was a bad slip," assented the parson; "for there was plenty of
meat and bread at home; but we shall have to stop now and then to rest
our animals and to allow them to feed and we can utilize such
intervals by getting something for ourselves in the same line."
"It isn't that, so much as the risk of apprising the two of their
danger. In addition, it will be strange if we get through the
mountains without a fight with the Indians. According to my
recollection, we shall strike a region to-morrow or on the next day,
where there will be the mischief to pay."
Two miles more of laborious work and another halt. For the first time
Parson Brush showed excitement.
"Do you know," he said, "that some one is following us? There may be
several, but I am sure of one at least and he is on a horse."