"It are twenty yards--good mizyure," answered Garey.
"An yurs, young fellur?"
"About the same length--perhaps a yard or two more."
"Good!" ejaculated the questioner, with a satisfied look. "We'll fool
them niggurs yit--_we_ will!"
"Hooraw for you, old boy! you've hit on some plan, hain't you?" This
was Garey's interrogatory.
"Sartintly, I hez."
"Let's have it then, kummarade," said Garey, seeing that Rube had
relapsed into silence; "thar ain't much time to think o' things--"
"Plenty o' time, Billee! Don't be so durned impatient, boy. Thur's
gobs o' time. I'll stake my ole mar agin the young fellur's black hoss,
thet we'll be out o' this scrape afore sun-up. Geehosophat! how thu 'll
cuss when they finds the trap empty. He, he, he!--ho, ho, hoo!"
And the old sinner continued to laugh for some seconds, as coolly and
cheerfully as if no enemy was within a thousand miles of the spot.
Garey and I were chafing with impatience, but we knew that our comrade
was in one of his queer moods, and it was no use attempting to push him
faster than he was disposed to go.
When his chuckling fit was ended, he assumed a more serious air, and
once more appeared to busy himself with the calculation of some problem.
He spoke in soliloquy.
"Twenty yurds o' Bill's," muttered he, "an twenty of the young fellur's,
ur forty; an myen--it ur sixteen yurds--make the hul fifty an six;
ye-es, fifty-six preezactly. Then thur's the knots to kum off o' thet,
though fornenst 'em thur's bridles. Wagh! thur's rope aplenty, an
enough over, to string up half a score o' them yeller-bellies, ef iver I
gits holt on 'em. An _won't_ I! Wagh!"
During this arithmetical process, Rube, instead of gazing any longer
into the barrel of his rifle, had kept his eyes wandering up and down
the cliff. Before he had ceased talking, both Garey and myself had
divined his plan, but we refrained from telling him so. To have
anticipated the old trapper in his disclosure would have been a mortal
offence.
We waited for him to make it known.
"Now, boyees!" said he at length, "hyur's how we'll git clur. Fust an
fo'must, we'll crawl up yanner, soon's it gits dark enough to kiver us.
Seconds, we'll toat our trail-ropes along wi' us. Thuds, we'll jine the
three thegither, an ef thet ain't long enough, a kupple o' bridles 'll
help out. Fo'th, we'll tie the eend o' the rope to a saplin up thur on
top, an then slide down the bluff on t'other side, do ee see? Fift,
oncest down on the paraira, we'll put straight for the settlements.
Sixt an lastest, when we gits thur, we'll gather a wheen o' the young
fellur's rangers, take a bee-line back to the mound, an gie these hyur
niggurs sech a lambaystin as they hain't hed since the war begun. Now?"
"Now" meant, What think you of the plan? Mentally, both Garey and I had
already approved of it, and we promptly signified our approval.
It really promised well. Should we succeed in carrying out the details
without being detected, it was probable enough that within a few hours
we might be safe in the piazza of the rancheria, and quenching our
thirst at its crystal well.
The anticipated pleasure filled us with fresh energy; and we instantly
set about putting everything in readiness. One watched, while the other
two worked.
Our lazoes were knotted together, and the four horses fastened head to
head with their bridles, and secured so as to keep them behind the
boulder. This done, we awaited the falling of night.
Would it be a dark night?
About this we now felt anxious. It was already closing down, and gave
promise of favouring us: a layer of lead-coloured clouds covered the
sky, and we knew there could be no moon before midnight.
Rube, who boasted he could read weather-sign like a "salt-sea sailor,"
scrutinised the sky.
"Wal, old hos!" interrogated Garey, "what do ye think o't? Will it be
dark, eh?"
"Black as a bar!" muttered Rube in reply; and then, as if not satisfied
with the simile, he added, "Black as the inside o' a buffler bull's
belly on a burnt paraira!"
The old trapper laughed heartily at the ludicrous conceit, and Garey and
I could not refrain from joining in the laugh. The guerrilleros must
have heard us; they must have deemed us mad!
Rube's prognostication proved correct: the night came down dark and
lowering. The leaden layer broke up into black cumulus clouds, that
slowly careered across the canopy of the sky. A storm portended; and
already some big drops, that shot vertically downward, could be heard
plashing heavily upon our saddles. All this was to our satisfaction;
but at that moment a flash of lightning illumined the whole arch of the
heavens, lighting the prairie as with a thousand torches. It was none
of the pale lavender-coloured light, seen in northern climes, but a
brilliant blaze, that appeared to pervade all space, and almost rivalled
the brightness of day.
Its sudden and unexpected appearance filled us with dismay: we
recognised in it an obstacle to our designs.
"Durn the tarnal thing!" exclaimed Rube peevishly. "It ur wuss than a
moon, durn it!"
"Is it going to be the quick-forky, or the long-blazey?" inquired Garey,
with a reference to two distinct modes in which upon these southern
prairies, the electric fluid exhibits itself.
In the former the flashes are quick and short-lived, and the intervals
of darkness also of short duration. Bolts pierce the clouds in
straight, lance-like shafts, or forking and zig-zag, followed by thunder
in loud unequal bursts, and dashes of intermittent rain.
The other is very distinct from this; there are no shafts or bolts, but
a steady blaze which fills the whole firmament with a white quivering
light, lasting many seconds of time, and followed by long intervals of
amorphous darkness. Such lightning is rarely accompanied by thunder,
and rain is not always its concomitant, though it was this sort we now
witnessed, and rain-drops were falling.
"Quick-forky!" echoed Rube, in reply to his comrade's interrogatory;
"no--dod rot it! not so bad as thet. It ur the blazey. Thur's no
thunder, don't 'ee see? Wal! we must grope our way up atween the
glimps."
I understood why Rube preferred the "blazey;" the long intervals of
darkness between the flashes might enable us to carry out our plan.
He had scarcely finished speaking, when the lightning gleamed a second
time, and the prairie was lit up like a theatre during the grand scene
in a spectacle. We could see the guerrilleros standing by their horses,
in cordon across the plain; we could distinguish their arms and
equipments--even the buttons upon their jackets! With their faces
rendered ghastly under the glare, and their bodies magnified to gigantic
proportions, they presented to our eyes a wild and spectral appearance.
With the flash there was no thunder--neither the close quick clap, nor
the distant rumble. There was perfect silence, which rendered the scene
more awfully impressive.
"All right!" muttered Rube, as he saw that the besiegers still kept
their places. "We must jest grope our way up atween the glimps; but
fust let 'em see we're still hyur."
We protruded our faces and rifles around the rock, and in this position
awaited another flash.
It came, bright as before: the enemy could not fail to have noticed us.
Our programme was already prepared: Garey was to ascend first, and take
up the rope.
He only waited for the termination of another blaze. One end of the
lazo was fastened round his waist, and the rope hung down behind him.
When the light gleamed again, he was ready; and the moment it went out,
he glided forward to the cliff, and commenced his ascent.
Oh, for a long interval of darkness!