THE FREE TRAPPERS TRAPPED.
It might hardly be credited; yet at least twenty minutes elapsed before
the absence of Endicott and his men was noticed. Martin, himself, had
full occupation in following the dim trail, while his men, not having
yet fraternized with the strangers, accepting them on trust, from
Martin's orders, as allies, were alike careless of their absence or
presence.
When the desertion was discovered, Martin still continued in apparent
indifference to it. After looking from one to another, in temporary
doubt, one of the men rode to the side of their leader, and imparted
to him the fact, that Endicott, Rothven, and three other men had
disappeared from their number.
Whatever he may have felt inwardly, there was no outward manifestation
that this intelligence was unexpected, or even new. He received it with
a careless nod and wave of the hand, and his only remark was:
"That's all right. Never mind about them; they're all old enough to
take care of themselves."
The man drew back, completely deceived by the manner of Martin, and in
consequence, there was an idea in the minds of most then present, that
he had not only been cognizant of their departure, but that it was more
than likely that the absence which had seemed so mysterious originated
from his orders.
Inwardly, Martin was more troubled than he would have cared to have
owned. It reawakened the ugly suspicions which had led him toward the
camp of Endicott, upon the first discovery of the abduction of Edith.
Could he have imagined how any understanding with the Indians could
have been effected, he would have altered his plans immediately. Once
or twice he did think of turning back to find and follow the trail of
Endicott.
Perhaps it would have been as well to have done so. It was leading
toward his niece, though there had been no complicity with the
red-skins. The defection might, however, have been caused by cowardice;
so he reasoned, or it might be that Endicott had other schemes on
foot, which on mature deliberation he judged to be of more importance
than knight-errantry, and dangerous pursuit. The latter view seemed
plausible, since he knew him to be a man of schemes and speculations;
one, too, not apt to be led away from his course by any motives of
sentimental humanity.
By this time the conformation of the ground over which they were
traveling, began somewhat to change. Although, following the high
divide, the road was still good, yet on one side or the other frequent
ravines ran away; in front wound a stream, its line of timber showing
black under the moonlight. To this the trail directly led. The near
bank was precipitous, presenting in most places, a barrier against
fording. Yet here and there old buffalo water trails had worn paths to
the stream, one of which the driving rain, with its temporary torrents,
had washed down, until the descent was not only practicable but easy.
Down one of these paths led the trail, crossing the stream, and leading
up through a rift in the timber, which stood thickly on the opposite
side.
As it happened, the moonlight streamed directly through this rift,
reaching every part of the path, shedding sufficient light to make
every object therein distinctly visible. As he gave a glance down the
bank, at the moment of beginning the descent, Martin noticed this, and
that, an impenetrable gloom overspread every other surrounding object.
Although not expecting danger, and almost certain that he had three
times the number of men that he might by any possibility meet with, yet
it seemed better to him to order a halt for a moment, while he took a
closer view. In obedience to his order, his men drew rein just before
coming to the brink of the bluff, while he glanced carefully around,
listening with suspended breath.
No sound, save the noise of the night-wind and the rippling of the
water fell on his ears. So, with carbine at a ready, he began the
descent. Just before he reached the water's edge a beaver on the
opposite bank dropped off, making so little noise that ears less acute
than those of Martin would have doubtless failed to notice it. Every
visible sign betokened loneliness and safety. Pushing on across he
wound his way up the opposite bank. The ascent, making a reversed
curve, was gradual. He passed on perhaps three hundred yards until he
could see, at some little distance ahead, the point where the crown
of the bank turned onto the second bottom, and then began to retrace
his steps. Arriving again at the stream, he drew to one side until
almost concealed by the shadow of an elm, and then, in a tone low, yet
sufficiently loud to be heard by his men, gave the order to advance.
Just as the foremost two, but a few yards away, came in sight, he heard
a slight, hissing, rustling noise, and something touched him lightly on
the shoulder. To him it seemed like a whisper from Death; for he knew
they were ambuscaded in the cañon. The touch was given by the feather
end of an Indian arrow. The very silence that followed the advent of
this messenger of hostility was appalling. Yet withal he retained his
self-possession.
In a moment he had taken in the whole position, and decided as to the
force of the aggressors, and the course to be pursued. He judged that
a few men had been stationed in the shadows to watch, to attack, to
harass, to delay. As they were there it seemed but little difference
whether he had them on front, flank or rear, as far as danger was
concerned; and that it would be best to dash past them as rapidly as
possible. They were probably too few in number to make any thing like
an open attack, and it was only while they were in front that there
could be danger.
Acting on this supposition, his voice suddenly broke the stillness,
ringing out clear and full upon the ears of the startled men:
"Forward at a gallop, men, and fire at sight or sound!"
Then ensued a noise of hastily advancing horsemen, who charged into
the line of moonlight with reckless obedience to the command of their
leader.
Again close to Martin, evidently hurtled in the direction of his voice,
there fell an arrow. Then, as with a yell that was scarcely a cheer his
men came plunging across the stream, half a dozen shafts fell in their
midst.
Keen eyes and ears were open, and as Martin fired his carbine in the
direction from whence he judged the arrows had come, the sound of its
report was caught up by the rattle and crash of the firearms in the
hands of his men. It seemed to be a blind affair, in which luck would
be apt to go further than judgment. Again came a flight of arrows,
whistling into the ranks of the white men as they swept by, Martin now
at their head, and the revolvers of the assailed cracked viciously as
reply. In a moment more, the danger, for the present, was past, and
the whole party passed out of the dangerous defile and galloped a few
hundred yards upon the comparatively safe prairie.
Then they drew rein to inquire into the amount of the damage done.
Not a man was missing; but two or three sat but loosely in their
saddles; while there were two men who had lost their horses and come
out on foot. By good fortune the wounds of the injured men proved but
slight, and with a little rude surgery they were both willing and able
to proceed.
What injury, if any, had been inflicted upon the attacking party it was
impossible to determine. All the firing on the part of the assailed,
had been at random, even though one or two had thought, as they pulled
the trigger of their revolvers, that they were marking down black
shades that might be Indians. Whatever may have been their loss, the
half-dozen, at which number Martin had estimated the size of the party,
had done their best, and succeeded in inflicting a very fair amount of
damage. Whatever was their loss, all remained noiseless in the late
left ravine.
From his hunting-shirt one of the men drew an arrow. It had glanced
along a leathern strap that he wore, and hung dangling by its feathered
end. Handling it carefully he showed it to Martin. That worthy took it
and looked at it with a thoughtful glance. By the relative position of
head and feather he recognized it in a moment as a war-arrow, and by
its make he could give a shrewd guess at the tribe to which its owner
had belonged, and he turned to his men with:
"There's been some underhand work that I don't know any thing about
between some of you boys and these red-skins, and this is what's come
of it. I didn't think much of two or three of them being reckless
enough to carry off the girl--there's lots of men that will gamble
away their lives for the woman that takes their fancy--but there's
too many of 'em in this thing not to have a little something else
behind it all to urge them on. I ought to look it out and bring the
matter straight, for we can't afford to be eternally mussing with the
red-skins. However, it's too late now to bother, and, if every man does
his duty, we'll let the matter rest when we get to camp. But, I tell
you, it's got to be the last time that one of our men goes back on the
copper-skins."
Having said this much, he turned to the serious work before him. Not
for long was he at fault. Again he was on the trail. Scarcely had he
followed for two hundred yards, when it took a sudden bend to the
right, and began to run parallel with the creek. For perhaps a quarter
of a mile it continued in that course, then, turning once more to the
right, it was lost in the shade of the timber.
All came to a halt and looked around. From the taste they had had they
were all in a fit frame of mind to act with prudence. Besides, there
were two footmen in the party now.
Standing there, there suddenly appeared, away off on their left, a
little clump of moving objects which had just emerged from the head of
a ravine. "One, two, three--" the white men counted the number until it
ended at seven.
"Seven durned, cussed, pisen red-bellies, by mitey! Them's the cusses
that killed my hoss, I'll bet my brains!" exclaimed one of the footmen.
Martin scanned the party cautiously, but could perceive no traces
of Edith. They in turn, looking back and perceiving that they were
observed by the white men, halted a moment, and, drawn up on the
hillside slope, made gestures of challenge and menace. When they saw
no movement was made in response, they moved off again in single file.
Their boldness seemed strange, yet it must be remembered that it was
at night, and it was only a plunge from hillside to ravine and they
would be invisible. They were shrewd enough to be able to know of their
comparative safety.
There seemed to be little danger, now, in attempting to unravel the
thread of the trail which led into the timber. Several men were
dispatched upon this errand, while others pushed still further on to
find their point of exit. When at length it was found and inspected,
a singular sensation was effected. The party of whom they were in
pursuit had evidently affiliated with a few others and taken part in
the ambuscade; and after the dash past them of the white men, all had
made good their retreat to this point, near which their horses had been
tethered; and, as the seven men they had seen were evidently identical
with the men of the ambush, the question arose: "Where was Edith Van
Payne?"
That question arose--and almost immediately received its answer.
Martin, once more bringing his judgment into play, saw in a moment they
had been tricked. Now, when he once was aware of it, he could trace
out how, as well as Blaze had done in the early part of the chase.
He reasoned and thought and knit his brows, and his face grew black.
Without doubt he knew now that he should have followed the other trail,
and knew, too, in what direction it tended, what spot aimed at. He was
almost as wise as Blaze himself as regarded the lay of the land in a
circle of some hundred miles.
Now, having thrown away the enthusiasm of the first rush of the
pursuit, there was only one course left, and that a disheartening
one--to acknowledge the error, and attempt to repair it as soon as
possible. There was one little gleam of sunshine for him. It seemed
more than likely that Winkle and two other men had followed the right
trail. The possibility that Endicott and his men had done the same was
a problem to be thought over. Should such a supposition be verified, it
was hard to tell what would be the feelings awakened. Upon the whole,
it is possible that Martin would about as lief have his niece in the
hands of her present captors as in those of Charles Endicott.
"No use talking, boys, we've been fooled, and we must make the best
of it. We took the wrong trail. Now, which of you feels dead certain
that he knows in what direction Straight and Crooked Cañons lay, and
the straight road to them, for by the holies, that's where we've got to
bend for now."
At this, though the faces of more than one of the party fell, there
was no lack of men to offer their needed knowledge. Nor was there any
serious disagreement in the statements regarding the direction of
the specified locality. Drawn up in a little circle, the direction,
distance, and lay of the intervening ground, were discussed, and a plan
of procedure mapped out. As the wounded men were not seriously hurt,
two of them gave remounts to those who had lost their horses, and,
in company with the third, started to return to Martin's ranche. The
remainder, having looked well to their arms, pushed off at a regular
gallop in the new direction.