GLEN AND BINNEY GET INTO TROUBLE.
The next day, when Glen announced the successful result of his efforts
to Captain Winn, that officer informed him that he expected to be
ordered East very shortly on special duty, when he would be willing to
take charge of the Indian boy, and deliver him to Mr. Matherson in
Brimfield. Nothing could have suited Glen's plans better; and he at once
wrote a long letter to his adopted father, telling him of all that had
happened, and begging him to receive the young Indian for his sake. He
also wrote to Mr. Meadows and asked him to announce the coming of the
stranger to the Brimfield boys. Then he hunted up the interpreter, and
went to the guard-house for a long talk with his captive friend.
Lame Wolf was glad to see him, and at once asked what the white men had
talked of in their council of the evening before. Glen explained it all
as clearly as he knew how. The young Indian was greatly comforted to
learn that he was not to be put to death, but also seemed to think that
it would be nearly as bad to be sent far away from his own country and
people, to the land of the Pale-faces. In his ignorance he regarded the
place of his proposed exile much as we do the interior of Africa or the
North Pole, one only to be reached by a weary journey, that few ever
undertook, and fewer still returned from.
He was somewhat cheered by Glen's promise to join him at the end of a
year, and that then, if he chose, he should certainly return to his own
people. Still, it was a very melancholy and forlorn young Indian who
shook hands, for the last time, with the white boy at sunrise the next
morning, and said, "How, Glen," in answer to the other's cheery
"Good-by, Lame Wolf. Take care of yourself, and I hope you will be able
to talk English the next time I see you."
Then, after bidding good-bye to the Winns and his other friends of the
post, the boy sprang on Nettle's back and dashed after the wagon-train
that was just disappearing over a roll of the prairie to the westward.
All that morning Glen's attention was claimed by Mr. Hobart, or "Billy"
Brackett, or somebody else, who wished to learn more of the details of
his recent experience; but late in the afternoon he found himself riding
beside Binney Gibbs. For the first time in their lives the two boys held
a long and earnest conversation. From it each learned of good qualities
in the other that he had never before suspected; and by it a long step
was taken towards the cementing of a friendship between them.
So engaged were they in this talk, that the animals they were riding
were allowed insensibly to slacken their pace, until they had fallen a
considerable distance behind the train. They even stopped to snatch an
occasional mouthful of grass from the wayside, without opposition on the
part of their young riders. These knew that, whenever they chose, a
sharp gallop of a minute or two would place them alongside of the
wagons, and so they carelessly permitted the distance between them and
the train to become much greater than it should have been.
Suddenly a dazzling ray of light flashed, for the fraction of a second,
full in Glen's eyes, causing him to start, as though a pistol had been
fired close beside him. He glanced hurriedly about. Not a wagon was in
sight; but he knew the train must be just over the rise of ground he and
Binney were ascending. At that same moment the mule threw up its head
and sniffed the air uneasily. Glen's second glance was behind him, and
it revealed a sight that, for an instant, stopped the beating of his
heart. The whole country seemed alive with Indians.
Half a mile in the rear, hundreds of them, in a dense body, were
advancing at the full speed of their ponies. A small party, evidently of
scouts, were coming down the slope of a divide at one side, in the
direction of the mirror-flash that had first attracted his attention.
But the worst danger of all lay in two fierce-looking warriors who had
advanced upon the boys so silently and rapidly that they were already
within bow-shot.
Fortunately, Glen was close beside his companion. With a quick movement
he grasped Binney by the collar and jerked him to one side, so that he
very nearly fell off his mule. At the same instant the two arrows, that
he had seen fitted to their bowstrings, whizzed harmlessly over the
boys' heads. As Nettle and the mule sprang away up the slope, several
rifle-balls, from the little party of Indians on the right, whistled
past them; while from behind them rose a howl of mingled rage and
disappointment. The first two Indians had used the noiseless arrows, in
the hope of killing the boys without betraying their presence to the
rest of the party, as the moment for the grand charge, that they hoped
would be such a complete and overwhelming surprise, had not yet arrived.
Now that they had failed in this, there was no longer any need for
caution, and they fired shot after shot from their rifles after the
fugitives.
Glen had seen the Cheyennes dodge from side to side, as they rode away
from the stage-ranch three days before, to disconcert the aim of its
defenders; and now he and Binney employed the same device.
Nettle was so much fleeter than the mule that Glen could have gained the
top of the slope in advance of his companion if he had so chosen; but he
rather chose to be a little behind him at this point. So, instead of
urging the mare to do her best, he faced about in his saddle and
returned the rifle-shots of the two Indians who were nearest, until his
magazine was emptied. It is not likely that any of his shots took
effect; but they certainly weakened the ardor of the pursuit, and gave
Binney Gibbs a chance to cross the ridge in safety, which he probably
could not have done had not Glen held those Indians in momentary check.
With his last shot expended, and no chance to reload, it was evidently
high time for Glen to test the speed of his mare to its utmost. His life
depended wholly on her now, and he knew it. There would be no taking of
prisoners this time. Even at this critical moment he reflected grimly,
and with a certain satisfaction, upon the difficulty the Indians would
find in getting a scalp off of his shaven head.
All this riding and shooting and thinking had been done so rapidly that
it was not two minutes from the time of that first tell-tale
mirror-flash before Nettle had borne her rider to the top of the ridge,
and he could see the wagon-train, not a quarter of a mile from him.
Binney Gibbs was already half-way to it; and, as Glen caught sight of
him, he was amazed at a most extraordinary performance. Binney suddenly
flew from his saddle, not over his mule's head, as though the animal had
flung him, but sideways, as though he had jumped. Whether he left the
saddle of his own accord or was flung from it the effect was the same;
and the next instant he was sprawling at full length on the soft grass,
while the mule, relieved of his weight, was making better time than ever
towards the wagons.
Glen had left the trail, thinking to cut off a little distance by so
doing; and, a few moments after Binney's leap into the air, he performed
almost the same act. On his part it was entirely involuntary, and was
caused by one of Nettle's fore-feet sinking into a gopher burrow that
was invisible and not to be avoided.
As horse and boy rolled over together, a cry of dismay came from one
side, and a wild yell of exultation from the other.