AN UNSUCCESSFUL PURSUIT.
After leaving the vicinity of the cabin, the Comanches struck a trail
leading through a cedar brake over the hill back of the cattle shed.
Here they came together, and without halting swept straight along the
Guadalupe River, as previously mentioned. They felt that the whites
would follow them, and their one hope of safety lay in gaining the
wilderness about San Saba Hill, sixty to seventy miles north of San
Antonio.
The leadership of the whites naturally fell to Colonel Jim Bowie, for
he had been in numerous Indian quarrels, and was a good man on the
trail. It may be here mentioned that Bowie, who was afterward to become
so well known in Texas, was one of two brothers who came to that
territory from Louisiana, after having been engaged for years in the
slave-trade. The man was as bold as he was daring, and it was said that
he knew not the meaning of the word fear.
The Indians were all on horseback, and as their steeds had had a long
rest they were fresh, and made rapid progress. On the other hand, the
mustangs of the whites were tired from the hard night's ride from
Gonzales and vicinity, and they could not keep up the pace, although
urged to do their best by their riders. All of the whites bewailed the
fate of Whippler, and swore to be revenged if given "the ghost of a
chance."
When Amos Radbury, Stover, and the two boys gained the other whites,
they found Bowie's party fording one of the creeks running into the
Guadalupe. The Indians had passed there about ten minutes before, and
it was to be seen that they had not even stopped to water their horses.
All of the settlers' horses were thirsty, and some refused to budge
from the stream until they had slaked their thirst.
"Do you think they will be caught?" asked Dan, as he swept along beside
his father.
"They will not be caught if they can help it," replied Mr. Radbury,
with a faint smile. "They know it will go hard with them if we do come
up with them."
"What of the wounded?" asked Ralph. But his father merely shrugged his
shoulders.
"They'll crawl off in the bushes, and either git away, or die,"
answered Poke Stover, philosophically. To him the life of an Indian was
of no account. He had never considered that an Indian might be educated
into becoming a useful member of the great human family.
On and on swept the little body of determined whites, each with his gun
in his hands, and his eyes on the alert for the first sign of danger.
The trail was still along the river, but presently it branched off, and
entered an _arrayo_, or gully, thick with thorny plants and entangling
vines. At the end of the _arrayo_ was a rocky plateau, and here for
the time being the trail was lost.
"The Indian that's leading them knows his business," remarked Colonel
Bowie, as he brought his command to a halt.
"That's right, but we'll soon be on his tail ag'in," returned Poke
Stover, who had come to his side. "Let's spread out in a fan, colonel;"
and this was done, each man examining his part of the great semicircle
with extreme care. A short while after, the trail was again struck, and
they swept on. But at both this place and at the ford valuable time had
been lost.
Noon found the Comanches still out of sight and hearing. But the trail
was fresh and easily seen, and it seemed only a question of endurance
upon one side or the other.
"If it wasn't for the jaded hosses," sighed Poke Stover. His own steed
was fairly fresh, but it would have been foolhardy for him to have gone
on ahead of the main body, with perhaps only one or two others being
able to do likewise. The Comanches would have liked nothing better than
to have gotten at the whites one at a time.
As the afternoon came and went, the party in pursuit began to grow
hungry. A few of the horsemen had brought rations with them, and these
were divided, each man and boy eating as he rode on. Some of the men
likewise carried liquor, and this was also divided, although Ralph and
Dan procured drinks of water at a spring instead. In those days it was
share and share alike with all of the settlers, and one man was
considered as good as another so long as he was honest and willing to
work. For dandies, from Philadelphia, New York, or other large cities,
the Texans had no use, nor did they love those who tried to show off
their learning. They were whole-souled, as it is called, to the core,
and they wanted everybody else to be so, too.
It was growing dark when Bowie called a halt on the edge of a small
clearing leading up to a hill thickly overgrown with scrub pines.
"We must be careful here, men," he said. "They may be scattered along
yonder timber belt, watching for us to uncover ourselves. We had better
move to the right and the left, and give the old signal if any of the
redskins appear in sight."
The split was made, but the Radburys and Poke Stover kept together. One
Indian was discovered, and the settler who saw him at once shouted, as
prearranged. Then the Indians, seeing that the attempt to draw the
whites into the open had failed, dashed along up the hillside, as
rapidly as the tangle of growth permitted. A number of shots were
exchanged, but nobody was hit.
During the afternoon one of the men had brought down a wild turkey, and
another several hares, for game of all kinds was still thick.
"That will do for supper," said Mr. Radbury. "But we will have to be
careful how we build a fire."
At seven o'clock the chase came to an end for the day, the jaded ponies
refusing to climb the hill that loomed up before them. One of the
ponies was a bucker, and threw his rider over his head into a
mesquite-bush.
"Thet settles Bill Darson," drawled the Texan, as he extricated himself
from his difficulty. "When the pony kicks, I kick, too. We don't go no
further jest now, hyer me!"
But Bowie, Mr. Radbury, and several others insisted upon gaining the
brow of the hill, as a point of vantage, and all plodded to the top,
where they went into camp in the midst of the trees, half a dozen men
being sent out to do picket duty, so that Bison Head's band might not
crawl up during the night and surprise them.
"I'd like to know what became of Wolf Ear and Hank Stiger," remarked
Dan, as he flung himself on the ground, glad enough to get out of his
high and uncomfortable Mexican saddle.
"They know enough to git out o' sight when thar's a fight on," answered
Poke Stover, with a broad laugh. "Them kind o' varmin always does."
Usually the frontiersman spoke fair English, but at times he dropped
into the vernacular of the plains.
"I hope he doesn't go back to the cabin, now it's deserted," put in
Ralph.
"He may do that!" burst out Dan. "I never thought of it before." And he
mentioned the matter to his father.
"He will hardly dare to go back, for other settlers will be coming up
from time to time," said Mr. Radbury. "He knows only too well that he
is already in bad favour with all straight-forward men."
"He's a sneak," said Ralph. "But by the way, father, you haven't told
us your story yet, although we have told ours."
"There is not much to tell, Ralph. I went for the deer, as you know. I
was dragging it back to the cabin, when I caught sight of several
Indians, and, by their movements, I saw that they wanted to cut me off
and, more than likely, slay me. I at once abandoned the deer and ran
deeper than ever into the woods."
"Of course they followed you?" came from Dan.
"Yes, they followed me, but only one or two shots were exchanged, and I
was not hit. I think I wounded one Indian, but I am not certain. Then I
gave them the slip and climbed into the king pine, as you boys named
the tree. You remember the signal I gave you?"
"To be sure."
"I meant I would try to get help near by, if possible. I had seen
several lumbermen around, and I fancied they might be down the river a
mile or so. I ran along the river with all my might, and there met Poke
Stover and told him what was happening. He at once agreed to go to your
aid, and urged me to arouse the settlers around Gonzales. He promised
to hold the cabin and stand by you as long as he could draw his
breath."
"And he did it!" cried Ralph. "He's a noble man."
"At first I could find nobody at home," went on Mr. Radbury. "Joel
Nalitt was away, and at the Runyons' only the women folks were in. But
over to the Powers's ranch I met Powers, Anderson, Striker, and a
German, who was a stranger, and they said they would all come along.
Anderson rode over to Whippler's, and those two brought along the other
men. It's too bad that Whippler was killed."
All in the party agreed with Mr. Radbury in this, although some said
that it was better Whippler should be killed than some man with a wife
and children. Whippler and his late wife had never had any offspring.
The night was raw and cold, and toward morning a fine rain set in,
adding greatly to the discomforts of the whites. The game brought down
proved but a scanty meal all around, and for breakfast there remained
absolutely nothing.
"This is too bad," said Dan, referring to the rain. He was soaked to
the skin, and so was everybody else in the party.
The trail was taken up as soon as it was light enough to see, and the
Indians were followed fully fifteen miles, over a winding way leading
over hills and rocks, and through immense belts of timber land. They
had to ford several streams, and at one of these points they stopped
for an hour to catch and cook some black bass, which were plentiful.
Toward nightfall the chase came to an end.
"It's no use," said one of the oldest of the settlers. "They've got too
good a start of us, and it will be foolishness for a mere handful of
whites to ride right into the Indian country. They'll lay a trap and
massacre every one of us."
All of the others agreed with the spokesman, and it was not long before
the party was riding back toward Gonzales. At first they followed the
winding trail, but, coming to one of the numerous creeks of the
vicinity, they branched off and took almost a direct route to the town.
"Will you go back with us?" asked Mr. Radbury of Poke Stover, when it
came time for the Radburys to separate from the others. The ranch home
could be seen from the top of a neighbouring hill, and all seemed to be
as they had left it two days before.
"Yes, I reckon I will," answered the frontiersman. "I ain't got nothin'
else to do, and ye may want an extra man about fer a day or two, jest
for to keep his eye open."
The storm had cleared away, and the sun was shining brightly as the
party of four rode up to the battered door of the deserted cabin. Down
around the cattle shed the cows were browsing away as usual, and
several of the pigs gave Ralph a grunt of recognition as he passed
them.
"Home again!" cried Dan, and hopping to the ground he crawled through
the doorway into the living-room of the cabin. As he went in he noticed
that the body of the dead red man had been removed from the doorstep.
"Is it all right?" asked Ralph, when a cry from his brother aroused
him.
"An Indian!" came from Dan. He had discovered a wounded red man lying
on the floor in the corner. Then he gazed around the room and glanced
into the sleeping apartment.
"Father, come in, quick!" he went on. "Somebody has been here, and has
carried off a dozen or more things. And your desk is broken open, too,
and all your papers are scattered about. Did you have any money in the
desk?"