UNSELFISH HEROISM.
Buffalo Bill’s heroic determination to save the girl from the terrible
fate awaiting her took shape quickly in action. Indeed, if anything was
to be done, it appeared that it must be done at once, for after she was
in that temple there was no knowing how speedily the bloody purpose of
these people would be accomplished.
“I am going down there!” was the scout’s simple declaration, when he had
given a moment or two to inquiring of himself whether anything but the
most direct method promised hope.
“We’ll go with you!” said Tom Lawler.
Lieutenant Butler was as ready and willing to go as young Lawler. But
Professor Bounderby hesitated, and Fritz Henselman very promptly showed
the white feather.
“Vat iss?” cried Henselman. “Uff dose Inchuns iss going to ead dot girl,
vy shoult ve led dem ead us also unt likevise?”
“They are not going to eat her. Henselman!” corrected Bounderby.
“Nein? Vat iss?”
“We fear they are going to sacrifice her.”
“Dot iss nod eading, eh?”
“Certainly not, Henselman. They will slay her as an offering to their
gods, that is all.”
“Dot iss all? Dot iss enough, ain’d id? I voult yoost as soon pe cooked
unt eaden as to be saccerivised. Ve petter sday righd here.”
“I—I think I should prefer to stay, myself,” Bounderby confessed. “We
could remain here and watch this exit, to see that the Indians do not
block it; so that our friends, if they succeed in effecting the rescue
of the young lady, may have a way open to retreat.”
“Dis exid!” said Henselman. “Vat iss?”
“That hole back there is what I refer to, it is an exit.”
“Oh, dot! Yaw! Ve vill sday here und keep dot hole open. Uff an Inchun
goes indo id I vill shood heem.”
He clawed at his revolver and waved it so nervously that Buffalo
Bill asked him to put it down. The scout was making hurried
preparations—seeing that his revolvers were loaded and that his
cartridges were where he could get at them readily.
“I am willing to go alone,” he said, “and it may be better that I
should. We haven’t force enough to fight those fellows, and one might
accomplish as much as if all went.”
Lieutenant Butler looked at him earnestly.
“I see, Cody, that you rather expect to lose your life down there in a
mad attempt to rescue that girl. It’s fine of you, but if you go, I go
with you, for I am willing to die in an effort to save her.”
“Here, too!” cried Lawler. “Mr. Cody, we’ll back you in anything you
try.”
“Ve petter all retread for de exid,” Henselman urged. “Vat iss? Uff ve
are caughd here dis highway in, we shall all be kilt, eenyhow. Id is
dancherous to be lifin’ so close by dis highway, vere beoples vat ve
ton’d vant to see may be coming along at any minute.”
“You can retreat, Henselman, you and Bounderby, if you choose. And
perhaps it’s as well if you do. You can get outside, and that will make
you safe.”
“But dose magnedic needles are crazy made by dose magnedic moundains!”
protested Henselman. “Nopody can travel py dem. Vot vill ve do? For de
sky is clouding ofer again.”
Buffalo Bill had made his preparations. “Now I’m ready,” he said to
Lieutenant Butler. “If you choose to go, lieutenant, I shall be glad to
have you do so, but I shan’t blame you if you stay. The chances, I
confess, are not good, but something must be tried. So, I am going.”
Butler rose to his feet, and so did young Lawler.
“We’ll go with you!” cried the latter, showing a courage undaunted.
“Fortunately,” said the scout, “the attention of those Indians is
attracted to the procession and the temple; not one has even looked in
this direction. We may be able to get to the temple without discovery,
if we’re careful.”
He walked to the rim of the bluff and looked down, and the next moment,
having clutched some bushes which grew there, he was sliding over.
Butler and young Tom Lawler followed him.
When they reached lower ground, where bushes again screened them, they
discovered that Professor Bounderby and Fritz Henselman were coming.
“Just slow up a minute,” called Bounderby. “I think I’d rather take the
risks with you than to stay here. Henselman and I have just sighted a
body of men coming along that highway, and the chances of being seen by
them are good. So we’re going with you. I think those men are seeking
the exit.”
Buffalo Bill and those with him stood in the bushes at the foot of the
cliff, while Bounderby and Henselman slid down, the latter puffing and
groaning.
“Py yiminy,” said Henselman, as he struck solid ground, “id is a lucky
ding for me dot dose elefator carried avay dot hant pag; I ton’d had to
carry it any longer! I pidy you vellers vot has to carry dot sunlight
telegraph!”
“We haven’t been seen, I believe,” said Bounderby, taking courage.
Buffalo Bill was already moving on, followed by Butler and Lawler.
Henselman and the professor came right after them now, seeming to feel
safer by keeping close at their heels.
The scout hugged the cliff wall, where a screen of bushes grew, as he
moved hastily in the direction of the temple. The head of the procession
was close up to the shining building now.
The scout burrowed a way through the bushes with practiced ease, making
at the same time a pathway for those who came after him.
The sounds of the shrill music and the wild shouting of the Indians
drowned the noise made by the scout and his companions in their hurried
passage.
At intervals Buffalo Bill and those with him looked out at the Indians.
They saw the head of the procession reach and enter the temple, then,
before they came opposite the building, they saw the silken pavilion
approaching the great shining door. Fortunately for the scout’s purpose,
the trees continued almost up to the temple itself on that side.
Rapidly as the scout moved, the fact that he could not go straight ahead
hampered his progress, and he saw the pavilion carried through the
golden door of the temple. His fears increased when he beheld that. He
broke into a run, which took him so rapidly on that in a few minutes he
was at the outer limits of the trees.
At panting pace his companions followed.
The scout looked out. He had a good view of the big door through which
the pavilion had been carried. All around it Indians were grouped, most
of them shouting. The fifing and the drum-beating rose in a very fury of
sound, mingling with the shouting. The people were in a frenzy.
“There is just one chance,” said the scout, as he thus looked out. “I
can make a run up to the door, and then fight my way into the temple. If
anything is accomplished it will have to be done as a surprise. If I can
reach the girl’s side perhaps I can get out of the temple with her. I
shall expect you to remain in hiding here, ready to rush forth to my aid
as soon as I appear with her.
“If I do not come out, you will know that I have been killed or am a
prisoner. After that you will have to make your own plans and govern
yourself by them. Yet, if I fail, I think it will be useless for you to
try to get into the temple, it will be wisdom for you to retreat as fast
as you can, for my effort will have aroused the Indians.”
Cody drew a revolver and clicked the cylinder around to see that it was
in working order. The fire of heroic resolution was in his face.
“We’ll go in with you, if you say!” said young Lawler. His chest was
heaving from his quick run, and his eyes were glittering with
excitement. He was a hero, too, youthful as he was.
Bounderby was trembling with excitement and fear, and Henselman seemed
on the borders of a physical and mental collapse. The scout paid scant
attention to them, however.
“Cody,” said Bounderby, “I have been trying to explain to myself how a
young lady captured by an orang-utan happens to be here in the power of
these Aztecs. But my logic fails me. My premises are either wrong, or——”
“Be ready for my reappearance in the temple door,” said the scout,
speaking to Butler and Lawler. “I’m sure I shall need your aid, if I am
fortunate enough to get that far with the young lady.”
So saying, he stepped boldly forth, for the bushes gave no further
cover, and an instant later he was running with soft footsteps in the
direction of the golden door of the temple.
Not an Indian turned to look in his direction. All were staring at the
door, beyond which apparently the common people were not permitted to
go.
Within the doorway were a number of brilliantly dressed figures, whose
feathered headdress and glittering armlets, together with the gold
ornaments on their barbaric clothing, made them conspicuous. But even
these were looking into the temple, and not out, so that they did not
see the approach of the scout.
A thick fringe of Indians stood between the scout and the door. They
were the spectators, in holiday attire, though in many cases their
clothing consisted of little more than a wonderful application of paint
and feathers.
Into this fringe the daring scout sprang like a football player going at
a line of opposing players. He knocked over some of the Indians, whom he
could not get around, sprang past the others, and the next moment was
running toward the glittering door.
A wild bellowing yell broke from the lips of the Indians. Unheeding
this, the daring scout gained the doorway with quick, springy leaps, and
startled the brilliant figures there by dashing past them and going
straight on into the building.
It was in many respects a gorgeous edifice, barbaric in splendor, which
the scout had thus invaded. He saw that as soon as he had passed through
the doorway. Its walls of stone and mud were painted and carved with
strange scrolls and figures of men and animals, and its pillared
interior was lighted from above by an opening that let in a flood of
sunlight.
At the side of the room the silken pavilion had been halted. The scout
did not even look at it. It was empty. But his eyes fell on the figure
of the girl he was risking his life to save. She had been laid, bound,
on a sacrificial stone which no doubt had witnessed the death of
thousands of victims. Around her were gathered the priests, some of them
bearing the sacrificial knives. The girl’s face was pale as death, and
her eyes were closed, that she might not see the knives that were ready
to slay her. She had long before lost all hope.
Buffalo Bill knew as soon as he saw that bound figure on the sacrificial
stone that he had been right in all his surmises concerning the purpose
of the Indians. This was, he saw, really an Aztec temple. Strange as it
seemed, these were Aztecs, worshiping according to their ancient custom,
which demanded human sacrifices. He was to know later that this was the
temple and the town of Zataclin, and that the priests and the people
considered themselves a superior order of beings, far removed from the
common Indians of Mexico, of whom, in truth, however, they had very
little knowledge.
The cries of the painted and feathered men in the doorway attracted the
attention of the priests gathered around the sacrificial stone.
Something had happened to cause such an outcry, they knew. They turned,
to behold the heroic scout.
Buffalo Bill caught up the form of the girl from the sacrificial stone
and with defiant attitude faced the bloody priests of Zataclin.
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