THE DEATH SHOT.
It took Ned about a minute to reach his merciful conclusion and to lower
the hammer of his gun. This done, he looked out to see how the Indian
was getting along. To his amazement nothing was seen of him. He had
vanished as suddenly as if the ground had opened and swallowed him up.
Wondering what it all could mean, the boy rose to his feet, and peered
out, parting the bushes still more and advancing a little from his
concealment. The ground was quite level, covered here and there with
boulders and a scrubby undergrowth, but there was nothing to be seen of
the warrior. During the second or two occupied in lowering the hammer of
his rifle, the Apache had disappeared, flashing out, so to speak, into
nothingness.
"That's mighty queer," reflected Ned, as he resumed his seat under the
bushes. "I know those redskins are pretty lively, but I didn't think
they could get up and leave as fast as that."
There was something in the manner of this thing which alarmed him. The
Apache, when last seen, was advancing carefully in the direction taken
by the scouts. Why this sudden diversion? What did it mean but that the
redskin had made an important discovery, and what could that discovery
be but that he was threatened by danger from the rear? Such being the
case, it followed that the peril had been transferred from one to the
other. Instead of the lad threatening the Indian it was _vice versa_.
"I bet he'll be back here," was the conclusion of our hero, as he once
more raised the hammer of his gun. "He must have heard me when I moved
the bushes, and he'll be trying some of his tricks upon me."
He concluded that if the Indian made him a visit it would be from
another direction, and so he shifted his position somewhat, managing to
face the other way, while he kept all his senses on the _qui vive_ for
the hostile visit which he was confident would not be long delayed. At
the same time he had a strong hope that the scouts would return in time
to prevent any such encounter as he pictured in his own mind, and which
he thoroughly dreaded.
In his excited mental condition it was impossible to judge accurately of
the passage of time, but it seemed to him that he had been in waiting
fully fifteen minutes, yet not the slightest sound reached him from that
direction. The lad remained in a state of suspense which was intensified
by his fears of a flank movement upon the part of the Apache whom he had
seen but a short time before.
"It must take them a long time to make a reconnaissance--"
He suddenly ceased, for his ear, more than usually alert, caught a
slight but suspicious sound, and quick as a flash he turned his head. He
was not an instant too soon, for there was the crouching figure of the
Apache warrior, no more than a dozen feet distant, his gleaming knife
clutched in his right hand, and his eyes fairly aflame with passion. He
was not moving along inch by inch, but with that soft gliding motion,
which was more like the approach of a serpent than of a person.
Ned still held his rifle with the hammer raised, and ready for just such
an emergency. Partly expecting the visit, he was fully prepared. When he
turned his head and encountered the gaze of the Indian, the latter gave
utterance to a low gutteral exclamation, and started more rapidly toward
him.
"If you must have it, there it is."
The flash from the muzzle of the rifle was almost in the face of the
Apache, who, with a death-shriek horrible to hear, threw both arms above
his head, and, with a spasmodic twitching of the limbs, breathed his
last in a single breath.
Ned was scarcely less terrified than the redskin must have been at the
first flash of the gun; and, forgetful of the warning of the scouts, he
leaped out from beneath the bushes, and dashed away in the direction
taken by his friends.
He had run but a rod or two when he suddenly found himself face to face
with Tom Hardynge, who demanded, in a hurried undertone:
"What's up, now?"
"I've just shot an Indian."
"Did you wipe him out?"
"Oh, yes; oh, yes."
"Then what are you running away from him for? If you've wiped him out,
he can't hurt you."
"But I don't want to stay near him," added the lad, who was in a
distressing state of anxiety; "take me away."
"That's just what I'm going to do," replied the hunter, turning about
and hurrying off. "Keep close to me and I will take care of you."
Instead of retracing their steps, they kept ahead, and a short distance
further on made an abrupt turn and suddenly came upon Dick Morris,
seated upon the back of his mustang, with Thundergust, as Tom called
him, standing near, and a third one visible in the background.
"Whose is that?" asked the astonished boy.
"We fetched him for you. Come, bounce upon his back and let's be off."
The animal alluded to was a handsome black pony, spirited and fleet,
with a valuable blanket strapped to its back, and a leathern
bridle-rein. He showed some opposition to Ned's mounting him, but with
the assistance of Tom he quieted down and showed as much docility as the
others.
The hunters, in approaching the camp, used as much care and deliberation
as if they were certain that there were a hundred of the fiercest
warriors there. They speedily learned, however, that there were but the
two Indian horse thieves, who, in bringing the plunder to that place,
had returned to the spot where their own animals had been left previous
to their starting out upon the raid.
The Apaches were entirely unsuspicious of any pursuit, and they were
lolling upon the ground at such a distance from the mustangs, that the
three were secured without much trouble. Dick Morris insisted upon
sailing in and clearing out the two marauders; but Tom was equally
strenuous in demanding that they should not be disturbed. He was certain
there were other warriors near by, and any such attempt would complicate
matters. Accordingly they stole away with their recaptured animals and
the one which was not exactly recaptured, and as soon as a convenient
spot was selected Hardynge turned back for the boy, encountering him on
the way.
Since all three were mounted upon good beasts they made all haste
possible to leave the section, which beyond all question was a most
dangerous one in every sense.
The trio had several important advantages on their side. Although the
Apaches were on every hand, and doubtless would make an attempt to
revenge themselves upon the hunters, yet it was already growing dark,
and between now and morning the Caucasians could accomplish a great
deal. Furthermore, they were close to the prairie, reaching which, they
had all the opportunity they could desire to leave their enemies behind.
In a fair trial of speed, neither of the hunters had any misgivings as
to the fleetness of their animals, even if it should become necessary to
place the additional weight of the lad upon one. Still, the route was
difficult, and in many places it seemed almost impossible to make their
way along, the horses stumbling, and on one or two occasions the party
came to a dead halt.
But Tom Hardynge had been there before, and insisted each time there was
some way out of the difficulty without turning back. Dismounting from
his animal he groped around for a few minutes in the dark, and on every
occasion called out in an undertone that he had found the path. In this
manner they kept it up for a couple of hours, when the route became much
more easy to travel. Occasionally they paused and listened and looked,
but nothing threatening was discovered. Quite a distance on the left,
the twinkle of a camp fire was discerned, but it was so distant that it
gave no concern. All remained quiet in the rear, though pursuit from
that quarter was to be expected.
The three rode along in silence for something like half an hour longer,
when Hardynge, who was slightly in advance, abruptly reined up his steed
and said:
"We're through the mountains. There's the prairie afore us."