THE LAST HOPE.
The young ranchers had to go but a short distance, when they struck the
trail left by their friends. The snow rendered it so distinct that the
first glance told the story. Warren saw the track made by the feet of
his father, mother, and little Dot. The consciousness that he was so
near them profoundly affected the son.
"There are several strange things about this," he remarked to Tim,
halting for a minute before taking up the search in earnest; "we found
it almost impossible for a horse to clamber up the ridge, and yet their
two ponies have been to the very crest."
"That's because they found an easy way to do it from the ither side,"
was the sensible comment of Tim Brophy.
"Of course, but father is away off the track. More than half a day has
passed since he left home, and he is hardly a quarter of the way to
Fort Meade."
"He is just as near as we are, and he didn't start any sooner," was the
significant remark of Tim Brophy.
"But that was his destination when he set out, while our business has
been to find him."
"With no moon or stars to guide him last night, what means had he of
keeping to the right coorse?"
The question gave its own answer. The cause of this wandering was so
self-evident that Warren Starr would not have asked it had he not been
in such a state of mental agitation as a person feels when certain he is
on the eve of some critical event.
Reasoning with something like his usual coolness, the young rancher
thought he saw the explanation of other matters which had puzzled him,
but he bestowed little thought upon them, for his whole ambition for the
time was to reach his parents.
The trail which they were following led toward the open prairie, left by
Warren but a short time before. It was evident that Mr. Starr was
making for that, for their animals could not serve them so long as they
continued in this rough section.
"If I had been a little later," reflected the son, "I would have met
them. That I did not proves that they cannot be far off."
He was tempted to call or whistle, but that would have been rash, for if
there was any one point on which he was certain, it was that the
hostiles were hot on the trail of Tim Brophy. The real peril was from
that direction, and several times he reminded the Irishman of the fact,
though he needed not the warnings.
A short distance farther and both stopped with an exclamation of dismay.
The report of a weapon sounded from a point only a little way ahead.
"That was not a rifle," said Warren, turning his white face on his
companion; "it was a pistol."
"Ye are corrict."
"And it was fired by father."
"I'm sure ye are right."
"They have been attacked! come on! They need our help!"
The youth dashed ahead, clambering over bowlders, darting around rocks,
ducking his head to avoid the limbs, stumbling, but instantly regaining
his feet, only intent on getting forward with the utmost possible speed.
His companion found it hard work to keep up with him, but fortunately
they had not far to run. Without the least warning of what was coming
Warren Starr burst upon his astonished parents and little Dot, the rush
being so impetuous that the rancher had his Winchester half raised to
fire before he understood.
At the feet of Mr. Starr lay the mare dead, killed by her master. While
struggling over the rugged places she had slipped and broken her leg.
The rancher mercifully put her out of her misery by placing the muzzle
of his revolver to her forehead and sending a bullet through her brain.
Mrs. Starr and Dot had turned away that they might not witness the
painful sight, for they loved the creature. The arrival of the youths
caused the mother to face quickly about, and the next moment she and
her son were clasped in each other's arms, with Dot tugging at the coat
of her big brother.
"Warren, Warren, I guess you forgot me," she pleaded, when she thought
the embrace had lasted long enough.
"Forget you, my darling!" he repeated, catching her up and hugging the
breath from her body; "never! we are together again, and only death
shall separate us."
The rancher had shaken the hand of Tim Brophy during this little
by-play, and they exchanged a few words before father and son closed
palms.
Then the questions and answers came fast. Tim Brophy drew a little aside
to where mother and child stood, and holding the tiny hand of Dot
explained matters, while Warren did the same with his father.
"Did you see us approaching when you started the fire?" asked Warren,
after hurriedly telling his own story.
"No, but I was quite sure, when your mother and I came to talk it over,
that you would disregard my wishes about hurrying to the fort. We went
astray in the darkness, and after a number of narrow escapes, as I have
just related, found ourselves at the base of this ridge on the other
side."
"Did you recognize where you were?"
"No; the points of the compass were all askew, and to save my life I
couldn't get my bearings. But I was convinced that you were at no great
distance, and decided to try the signal which Plummer and I had used
before. Poor Plummer!"
"Do you know anything about him?"
Mr. Starr related what he had discovered, adding that the body was
shockingly mutilated and stripped of its belongings.
"The ascent of the ridge on the other side was quite easy, and we found
no difficulty in leading the horses to the crest. There the fire was
kindled. Knowing of the long stretch of level ground on this side, we
set out without waiting to learn the result of the signal smoke. I knew
that if you made your way to the spot where it was burning you would
understand the situation, and the snow would show you how to follow us
as fast as you desired."
"Did you hear or see nothing of the Indians?"
"We saw nothing of them, and were confident that the party with whom we
had repeated encounters were thrown so far behind that we had good
reason to believe they need be feared no longer. But all our hopes were
scattered when we heard firing from the direction of the open plain.
While fleeing from one party of hostiles we had almost run into another.
I confess," added the father, "that for a minute I was in despair. Your
mother, however, retained her courage, as she has from the first. She
urged me to make for the level country, aiming for a point so far
removed from the sounds of the guns that we would not be seen, unless
some ill fortune overtook us. My haste in striving to do so caused the
mare to fall and break her leg. I could not bear the sight of her
suffering, and though I knew the danger of the act, I put her out of her
misery with a pistol-ball through her brain."
"You little dreamed that Tim and I had a part in the firing of those
guns which so alarmed you."
"No; it did not occur to me; but we must not make the mistake of
supposing we are yet out of danger."
The experiences that had been hastily exchanged awakened the ranchers to
the fact that they were still in imminent peril, for the Sioux were
certain to follow Tim Brophy vigorously, and at that moment could not be
far off.
Mr. Starr beckoned to his wife and Tim to approach.
"You understand matters," he said, "and the question is, what is best to
do?"
"Why not continue our flight?" asked the wife.
"I would not hesitate a second were we not so fearfully handicapped.
There are four of us, not counting Dot, and we have but two animals,
provided Warren's pony can be found, which I very much doubt. True, we
men can walk or take turns in riding, but if we continue our flight,
speed is indispensable, and we would make a sorry show in our crippled
condition. We would be absolutely helpless on the open prairie against
the Sioux, all of whom, Warren tells me, have excellent horses."
The rancher had a scheme in his mind, but before making it known he
wished the views of the others.
"It's mesilf that thinks this," said Tim Brophy; "let us go wid yees to
the ridge of the prairie, and there mount Mr. Starr on Jack, while Mrs.
Starr and Dot can take the ither. Thin, what is to hinder yees from
going like a house afire for the foort?"
"But what of you and Warren?" was the natural question of the rancher.
"We'll cover yer retr'at."
"The proposal does more credit to your heart than your head, but I
cannot entertain it."
"Nor will I listen to anything which compels us to separate again,"
added the son decisively. "I do not believe you can reach Fort Meade
without another fight, and the absence of Tim and me would destroy hope
from the first."
"But my idea," persisted the Irishman, "was to keep the fight away from
the folks and have all the fun oursilves."
"That would do if it were possible to arrange the business that way,"
said Warren, "but the Sioux are the ones who have the decision in their
hands, and while we were doing our best others would slip off and attack
father and mother. If we remain together it must be otherwise. If there
ever was a situation where union is strength this is one of them."
"I've exhausted me resoorces," said Tim, withdrawing a step, as though
he had nothing more to say. Leaving the others to decide, he took
Warren's Winchester from his unresisting hand, and began watching for
the approach of the Sioux, who he was certain were following the trail
through the snow.
One fact was apparent to him, and he considered it no unimportant
advantage. The pursuers would advance at a speed that must bring them
into sight before they could surprise the fugitives.
A glance around showed that the rancher could not have selected a
better place for defence. The bowlders were on all sides, there being a
natural amphitheatre several rods in extent. Kneeling behind these the
whites had a secure protection against their enemies, unless they should
make an overwhelming rush--a course of action which is never popular
with the American Indian, inasmuch as it involves much personal risk to
the assailants.
It was at his suggestion that the others seated themselves on the ground
while holding their conference. When the Sioux should appear it would be
on the trail made by the party, so that the Irishman knew where to look
for them. He, too, crouched down, with the muzzle of the Winchester
pointed between two of the bowlders, ready to fire on the first glimpse
of a target.
Even the pony was forced to lie down near the lifeless body of his
comrade. So it was that anyone might have passed near the irregular
circle of bowlders without a suspicion of who were within it.
"I have but the one proposition to make," said Warren, seeing that his
father was waiting for him to speak, "and that is to stay here and fight
it out. We are strong enough to hold the Sioux at bay for a good while,
perhaps long enough to discourage them."
"And what have you to say, Molly?"
"I cannot feel as hopeful as Warren, but it really seems to me that that
is the only recourse left to us."
"I do not agree with either of you," remarked the rancher, feeling that
the time had come to announce his decision. "I formed my plan some
minutes ago. It is the only one that offers the slightest hope, and I
shall insist on its fulfilment to the letter. It is that Warren shall
leave at once, find his pony if he can, mount him, and ride with all
haste to the fort for assistance. Tim will stay behind with us to help
fight. The time for discussion is past; we must act. Warren, make ready
to leave this minute."