TOM HARDYNGE'S RUSE.
Hardynge was too skillful a hunter to place himself directly in the way
of the Apache whom he knew to be the most treacherous kind of an enemy.
His purpose was to indulge in a little strategy and to seek to outwit
the redskin, as he had done on many an occasion before. It required but
a second for him to slide his rifle over upon his back, the stock being
hastily wrapped with a leathern sheath, which he always carried for such
an emergency, when he gently let himself over the stern of the canoe,
taking care to make no splash or noise in doing so. He then permitted
his body with the exception of his head to sink entirely beneath the
surface, while he floated with the boat, lying in such a position that
he made it effectually screen him from the view of any one who might be
upon the bank above. It was hardly to be expected, however, that if the
Indian saw the boat, he would permit it to pass unquestioned. Tom did
not anticipate it, and he was prepared for that which followed. For
several minutes the most perfect silence prevailed. At the end of that
time, the scout knew that he was exactly beneath the spot whereon he had
seen the answering signal, and scarcely stirred a muscle, keeping his
head as close as possible to the boat, and so nearly submerged, that he
could scarcely breathe.
"Hooh! hooh!"
The Apache had noted the empty canoe drifting below him in the shadow,
and surveyed it with something of the feeling of the detective who
suddenly stumbles upon a clue, the precise meaning of which is at first
a mystery to him.
It is hardly to be supposed that he intended this outcry as a hail to
the boat, which he must have seen contained no one. Its appearance would
naturally suggest to one in his situation that the occupant had been
alarmed by the signs of danger and had taken to the land. This
supposition was so natural that Hardynge would probably have got safely
by the dangerous point but for a totally unlooked-for mishap. The water,
which up to this time had been fully six feet in depth, suddenly
shallowed to less than a quarter of that, so that he struck his knees
against the bottom. The shock was very slight, and scarcely caused a
ripple; but it takes only the slightest noise to alarm an Indian,
especially when he is on the watch. That faint plash caused by the jar
of the body caught the ear of the listening, peering redskin, who
instantly slid his body over the bluff, and balancing himself for an
instant, dropped with such precision that he struck the canoe in the
very center, and preserved its gravity so well that it tipped neither to
the right nor left.
At the very moment the Apache dropped, the hunter rose to his feet,
knife in hand. The water rose scarcely to his knees, and the bottom was
hard, so that it was almost the same as if he stood upon dry land. The
warrior had not time to recover from the slight shock of his leap, when
Tom grasped him by the throat and used his weapon with such effect that
it was all over in a few seconds.
"There! I reckon you won't go into the telegraph business again very
soon!" he growled, as the inanimate body disappeared down the stream,
and he coolly re-entered the canoe, which had floated but a short
distance away.
He had scarcely done this when a new idea struck him, and, hastening
after the receding body, he carefully drew it into the boat again. Here
it was the work of but a few minutes to place it in a sitting position
in the stern in the most natural posture imaginable, so that any one
looking upon the figure would not have suspected for an instant that it
was anything but an animate being. Making sure that its pose could not
be improved, the scout then turned the boat directly away from the bank,
never changing its course until the very middle of the Gila was reached,
when he began paddling in as leisurely a manner as if no danger
threatened. It was a daring stratagem, but it is only by such means that
men are enabled to escape from peril, and although fully aware of the
danger he was incurring, he kept on his way with that coolness that
years of experience had given him.
As he approached a point opposite that where he had seen the first
signal he did not turn his head, but he looked sideways and scanned the
bank with the most searching scrutiny. Sure enough, at this moment he
plainly discerned the figures of fully a half-dozen Indians standing
upon the bluff and apparently watching the canoe with a curiosity that
was natural.
"All right," thought the hunter; "so long as you let me alone I won't
hurt you."
Had there been but the single occupant of the canoe the Apaches would
not have stood debating in this fashion as to what they should do, if,
indeed, they should do anything at all. Unity in the question would have
shown that it was the identical individual for whom they were searching,
for they knew that he was alone; but the fact that there were two, and
both in the guise of Indians, could be explained upon no other
hypothesis than that they were really what they seemed to be.
"Hooh! Hooh!"
It was precisely the same exclamation which had been uttered by the
warrior who sat so cold and inanimate in the stern of the canoe, and
Tom, without the least hesitancy, ceased paddling for the instant,
straightened up, and responded in the same gutteral fashion, resuming
the use of the oar at the same time, as if he meant that that should be
the end of it. But the Apaches immediately followed up their
ejaculations with some other sounds, which were doubtless intended as a
summons for the craft to heave to and "show her papers." Tom did not
understand the Apache tongue well enough to comprehend the precise
meaning of these words, although he was pretty well convinced of what
the others were driving at. He did not dare to attempt to reply, nor did
he dare to move faster; so he did the only dignified thing possible
under the circumstances. He continued that automatic paddling, and,
assisted by the current, was rapidly leaving his enemies in the rear
when they called to him again, moving at the same time down the bank in
a fashion which showed that they meant business. The hunter, not yet
ready to make the desperate dash which he had reserved for the last
final effort, if he should be driven to the wall, ceased work again and
called out:
"Hooh!"
He said it as impatiently as he could in the hope of "cutting off
further debate," and resumed paddling, knowing that a comparatively
short distance down the river the banks were so depressed that he could
readily make his way from the boat to the land, so that after getting
fairly below the Apaches his chances of ultimate escape were greatly
increased.
The Indians must have been exasperated at the refusal, for Tom had taken
scarcely a dozen strokes when he saw the flash of several guns upon the
bank, and the whizzing of the bullets around his head left no doubt of
the target at which they aimed.
"I can do somethin' of that myself," growled the hunter, as he laid down
his paddle and took up his gun.
Without the least hesitation, he fired directly into the group, and the
wild cry that instantly followed told with what a fatal result also. All
diplomacy was ended by this act, and without pausing to reload his
piece, he dropped his gun and bent to the task. The long ashen paddle
was dipped deep into the water, and the light vessel shot like an arrow
down stream. It seemed, indeed, to be imbued with life, and fairly
skimmed over the surface. The unexpected and defiant response to the
summons of the Apaches threw them into temporary bewilderment, and the
minutes thus lost to them were golden ones gained to the fugitive, who
shot the canoe as close to the opposite shore as was prudent, and
wielded the paddle with the skill of a veteran.
Having now no need of the dummy that had stood him so well for the time,
Tom did not hesitate to throw him overboard as a useless incumbrance,
and, thus relieved of the dead weight, he sped forward with wonderful
speed. In a short time after that the redskins had vanished from view,
and almost any one would have supposed that the danger was passed; but
Tom was well aware that it was only a temporary lull in the storm. The
Apaches were like bloodhounds, who, having once taken the trail of their
prey, would relax no effort so long as there was a chance of capturing
him, and so he abated not a jot of his tremendous exertions.