PURSUED BY THE APACHES.
As stealthily as a phantom did the canoe bearing the scout skim along
the shore of the Gila, hugging the banks as closely as possible, so as
to take advantage of the ribbon of shadow which followed the winding of
the stream. The moon was creeping higher up the sky, and this advantage
would soon be denied the fugitive altogether, so every minute was
improved to the utmost. Now and then Tom ceased paddling, and as the
boat shot forward with undiminished speed, bent his head and listened.
This was continued until he had passed fully a quarter of a mile, when
he rested for a longer time than usual.
"I guess they'll have to give it up," he said to himself, with a
peculiar chuckle. "They ketched me in a bad box, that's sartin, where I
couldn't climb out on either side. But things are a little better here,"
he added, as he looked from side to side at the bluffs, which were so
low that the tops could be easily reached from his boat. "I don't much
want to tramp over-land, but if it is necessary I've got somethin' of a
chance, which isn't what I had before."
He might well prefer the water to the land; for on the former, whether
he went fast or slow, there was no trail left for the keenest bloodhound
to follow; on the latter it was impossible to conceal his most cautious
footsteps from the eyes of the redskins. The surface of this portion of
Arizona was of such a nature that everything was against the hunter.
There was no wood nor tributary streams for miles. If he left the Gila,
and struck across the country, it would be over an open plain, where he
could be seen for miles. He would be on foot, while his enemies would
all be mounted on their fleet mustangs. How, then, could he elude them
by leaving his boat? His only hope was in traveling at night, but night
must always be followed by day.
"I wonder what ideas will creep into their skulls," he muttered,
reflecting upon the view the Apaches had gained of him a short time
before from the bank. "A dead Injun is a good deal better than a live
one, as that 'ere critter proved to me. If I hadn't fired back agin,
they might have thought I was one of their own warriors--mebbe they'll
think so now. Great Scott!"
The scout was paddling along in his leisurely manner, when his eyes, by
the merest accident, happened to rest upon the other shore, at a point a
short distance below him. While thus looking, he saw distinctly a point
of light appear and vanish three times! It performed no such gyration as
those which he had first seen, but simply came forward and receded until
it was gone altogether, leaving the same misty darkness as before. More
by instinct than from any other cause, Tom turned his eyes to the point
opposite where he had seen this exhibition. He had scarcely done so when
precisely the same thing was seen!
"Jest what I expected," he said as he checked the downward progress of
his boat. "The varmints have 'spicioned that one of the chaps in that
'ere canoe which passed before 'em is myself, and they're goin' for me
like lightnin'. They've mounted their horses, and kept it up till they
knowed they'd struck a p'int below me, and there they've signaled to
each other that I'm still above 'em on the river, and still to be
ketched."
The scout was certain that his theory was correct, and that, distasteful
and dangerous as it might be, the time had come for him to leave the
river. To continue further would be to precipitate a collision in which
there was no possibility of the good fortune that had followed him in
the first place. Besides this the night was so far advanced and the moon
so high up in the sky, that the shadow had narrowed to a band which was
practically useless.
"No use makin' faces when you've got a dose of medicine to take," he
added, as he ran the canoe close to the shore.
There he found that by standing upon his feet he could easily reach the
edge of the bluff above and thus draw himself up when he chose. This he
proceeded to do, but he was too skillful a hunter to leave behind him
such tell-tale evidence as the canoe itself would have proven. Were he
to leave that as it was, it would be sure to catch the eye of the
Apaches within a quarter of an hour and tell them precisely what had
been done. And so, as the hunter hung thus by his hands, with his long
rifle secured at his back, he caught the toe of his moccasin in the
craft in such a way that it dipped and took water. He held it thus until
it could contain no more; but its composition was such that even then it
would not sink. There were loose boulders in the bank, and the hunter
proceeded to drop these carefully into the boat below. It required
several for ballast, when it quietly went to the bottom, where it was
certain to stay. This done he addressed himself to the task before him.
As he straightened up and looked off in the moonlight, a very
discouraging, although familiar sight, met his eye. The moonlight was
quite strong, and he was enabled to see objects indistinctly for a
considerable distance. It was everywhere the same. A level, treeless
prairie, where for miles there was not a drop of water to be obtained,
and over which, as has been already shown, in case he attempted to make
his way, he would be placed at the greatest disadvantage possible,
especially as his own mustang was still a good hundred miles to the
southwest, if he had succeeded in avoiding capture up to that time. But
the life of a frontiersman, besides being perilous at all times, is
hardly ever anything but disagreeable, despite the curious fascination
which it holds for those who follow it. Tom did not hesitate a moment
longer than was necessary, now that a disagreeable expedient was forced
upon him.
His first precaution was to make sure that none of the Apaches were in
sight. The point at which he had seen the answering signal was so far
below that he was certain it would be beyond his vision, and, this much
determined, gave him just the "leverage" needed to work upon. It needed
but a few seconds to assure himself upon this point, and then he struck
off to the southwest. This course, while it took him away from the Gila,
would eventually bring him back to it, the winding of the stream being
such as to make this junction certain, if continued. The great thing now
required was haste; for a great deal depended upon the ground that could
be passed over during these favoring hours of darkness. He had taken
scarcely a dozen steps when he struck into a long, loping trot, not
particularly rapid in itself, but of such a character that it could be
kept for hours at a stretch. It was the genuine Indian dog trot, which
is so effective in long distances. As the runner went along in this
fashion, his thoughts were busy, and all his senses on the alert. He
concluded that it was nearly midnight, and that he had, consequently, a
number of hours at his command; so he aimed to get as far below the
intercepting Apaches as possible, with the intention of returning to the
river, before daylight, where he was hopeful of discovering some canoe,
or at least of hitting upon some feasible method of hiding his trail
from his lynx-eyed pursuers.
This loping trot was kept up for fully two hours, at the end of which
time Tom was certain that he was approaching the river again. He still
pressed forward for another hour, when he came to a halt. Although he
had continued this great exertion for so long a time, yet so good was
his wind that when he paused there was no perceptible quickening of the
respiration. Years of training had made him capable of standing far more
trying tests of his strength than this. The scout carefully turned his
head from side to side, looking and listening. All was still, and his
ear caught no ominous sound. Then he moistened his finger and held it
over his head. Yes, there was the least possible breath of air stirring,
as was told him by the fact that one side of the moistened finger was
slightly chilled. Everywhere, right, left, in front or rear, so far as
the bright moonlight permitted his vision to extend, was the same dead
level of treeless plain. Kneeling down he applied his ear to the ground.
Could it be? There _was_ a sound thus carried to his ears--the very
sound which above all others he dreaded to hear. It was a faint, almost
inaudible, tapping upon the earth. Far away it was, but drawing nearer
every minute.
The scout knew what it meant. It was the sound of horse's hoofs!