A FEW minutes more satisfied the trapper that he was right. Gradually
out from the darkness the approaching figure resolved itself into the
steam man.
Johnny Brainerd, after leaving the huge trapper so neatly, continued
wandering aimlessly over the prairie at a moderate speed, so as to
guard against the insidious approach of the Indians, or the hunter who
had threatened to confiscate his property in so unjustifiable a
manner.
Fortunately he did not see Baldy until the latter cautiously hailed
him, otherwise he would have fled before ascertaining his identity;
but the moment he recognized his voice he hastened toward him, no less
surprised than pleased at meeting him so unexpectedly.
'Where are Mickey and Ethan?' he inquired, as he leaped alongside of
him.
'In the cave.'
'How is it you are here?'
The trapper briefly explained that he had crept out to hunt him up;
but as there seemed no imminent danger, he deemed it best to leave his
companions there, as if the Indians once gained possession of the
golden ravine, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to displace
them.
Besides, in order to carry out the scheme which he had formed, it was
necessary that two at least should remain in the cave, while the
others were on the outside.
Under the direction of the trapper, the steam man slowly approached
the ravine, keeping at a respectful distance, but so near that if any
sudden emergency should arise, they would be able to render assistance
to their friends.
The boy gave several whistles so as to inform the Irishman and Yankee
of their whereabouts. A few seconds after, and while the noise of the
instrument was echoing over the prairie, a fainter whistle reached
their ears.
'That's the long-legged Yankee!' instantly remarked the trapper; 'he
knows how to make my kind of noise.'
'What does it mean?'
'It means that all is right.'
'Where are the Indians?'
'They ain't fur off. I wish they war further, fur ef it warn't fur
them, we'd had half the yaller metal out of thar by this time.'
Young Brainerd had the reputation of possessing a remarkably keen
vision; but, peer as much as he might, he could detect nothing
unusual. The trapper, however, affirmed that numerous forms could be
seen creeping along-the edge of the prairie, and that these same forms
were more nor less than so many red-skins.
'What are they trying to do?'
'Duono.'
'Hadn't we better withdraw?' inquired Johnny, showing a little
nervousness.
'Not till we know they're after us,' was the quiet reply.
By and by the boy himself was able to get an occasional glimpse of the
shadowy figures moving to and fro.
'I think they are going to surround us,' he added, 'and I feel as
though we ought to get out while we can do so.'
The only reply to this, was by the trapper suddenly bringing his gun
to his shoulder and firing. An agonizing screech, as the savage threw
himself in the air, showed that the shot had not been in vain.
Rather curiously at the same moment the report of a gun in the ravine
reached their ears, followed by the same death-shriek.
'They ain't sleepin' very powerful down thar,' was the pleased remark
of the trapper, as he leisurely reloaded his piece, while the boy
remained in that nervous state, awaiting the permission of Baldy to go
spinning away over the prairie at a rate that would very quickly carry
him beyond all danger.
But the trapper was in no hurry to give the ardently desired
permission. He seemed to have a lingering affection for the place,
which prevented his 'tearing himself away.'
The boy's timidity was not in the least diminished, when several
return shots were fired, the bullets pinging all around them.
'My gracious, Baldy, let's get out of this!' he instantly pleaded,'
starting the man himself.
'Go about fifty feet,' was the reply, 'but not any further.'
It may be said that the steam man fairly leaped over this space, and
somewhat further, like a frightened kangaroo, and even then it would
not have halted had not the trapper given peremptory orders for it to
do so.
The sky was now clear and the moon, riding high and nearly full,
illumined the prairie for a considerable distance, and there was no
fear but that they could detect the approach of the most treacherous
savage, let him come in whatever disguise he chose.
The night wore gradually away, without any particular demonstration
upon the part of either the Indians or white men, although dropping
shots were occasionally exchanged, without any particular result on
either side.
Now and then a red-skin, creeping cautiously along, made his
appearance on the edge of the ravine; but there was too much light for
him to expose himself to the deadly rifle of the trapper, who took a
kind of savage pleasure in sending his leaden messengers after the
aborigines.
This species of sport was not without its attendant excitement and
danger; for the last creature to take a shot quietly is an American
Indian; and they kept popping away at the steam man and its train
whenever a good opportunity offered.
Owing to the size and peculiar appearance of the steamer, he was a
fair target for his enemies; and, indeed, so uncomfortably close did
some of the bullets come, that the boy almost continually kept his
head lowered, so as to be protected by the sides of the wagon.
Finally morning came, greatly to the relief of all our friends. As
soon as it was fairly light the Irishman and Yankee were notified that
a move was about to be made, by means of the steam-whistle. An
answering signal coming back to them, the steam man at once advanced
to the very edge of the ravine.
The trapper peering cautiously down the gulch, caught sight of several
red-skins crouching near the cave, and, directing young Brainerd to
discharge his piece at a certain one, the two fired nearly together.
Scarce five seconds had elapsed, when both Ethan and Mickey did the
same. All four, or rather three, as the boy gave his principal attention
to the engine, began loading and firing as rapidly as possible.
The red-skins returned a few scattering shots; but they were taken at
such disadvantage, that they immediately began a precipitate retreat
down the ravine.
Ere they had withdrawn a hundred yards, Ethan and Mickey emerged from
the cave, shouting and excited, firing at every red-skin they could
see, the Irishman occasionally swinging his gun over his head, and
daring the savages to a hand-to-hand encounter.
While the two were thus engaged, the trapper was not idle. The steam
man maintained his place but a short distance behind the enemies, and
his deadly rifle scarcely ever failed of its mark.
The moment an Indian was killed or helplessly wounded, his companions
caught and dragged him away, there being a great fear upon the part of
all that some of their number might fall into the hands of their
enemies, and suffer the ineffaceable disgrace of being scalped.
The savages were followed a long distance, until their number had
diminished down to a fraction of what it was originally, and the
survivors had all they could do in 'taking care of their disabled
comrades.
Never was victory more complete. The Indians were thoroughly
discomfited, and only too glad to get away after being so severely
punished. During this singular running fight the steam man kept up a
constant shrieking, which doubtless contributed in no slight degree to
the rout of the red-skins. They fired continually at the
fearful-looking monster, and, finding their shots produced no effect,
invested the thing with a portion of the supernatural power which they
had given it at first sight.
When the last glimpse of the retreating Indians was seen, the trapper
turned triumphantly toward the boy.
'Warn't that purty well done, younker?'
'It was indeed.'
'They'll now stay away awhile.'
'We would have failed if we had waited any longer.'
'Why so, boy?'
'Because the last stick is burned, and the steam man couldn't be made
to run a mile further without more fuel.'