THE WILD MAN OF THE WOODS.
Dick Lewis had warned Eugene that constant vigilance was to be the
price of his success, and among other things had told him that, before
his expedition was ended, he might discover that horses were the most
obstinate and contrary things in the world. The drove could probably
be driven very easily, he said, until they reached the entrance to
the gully; and then, if they found that they were expected to enter
it, the chances were that they would take to their heels, leaving
their pursuers nothing to do but to make the best of their way back to
the Fort. Eugene, remembering the warning, took measures to prevent
so abrupt an ending to their hunt. He sent Archie out on one flank
and Fred on the other, with instructions to head off the horses,
should they attempt to escape, while he himself followed after
them as before. But it happened that no very serious difficulty was
experienced, and everything would have worked smoothly but for an
unlooked-for incident that occurred, and which they could not have
guarded against, even had they been expecting it.
The horses had been without water all day, and knowing probably that
there was none to be found nearer than the valley toward which they
were heading, they kept straight on at a rapid walk, turning neither
to the right nor left, and in an hour more were fairly between the two
high hills which marked the entrance to the gully. These hills were two
or three miles apart. A few hundred yards farther on the gully proper
began, and was not more than a quarter of a mile wide. Once in there,
they were safe. Then the work would begin in earnest. The spring which
watered the valley was located at the other end of the gully, twenty
miles away in the mountains, and Eugene, who was the acknowledged
leader of the expedition, had told his companions that the drove must
not be allowed to stop there to drink. The wild steeds had travelled
at least twenty-five miles that day, with no nourishment except the few
mouthfuls of grass they had been able to snatch as they passed along,
and some of them acted as if they would like to stop and rest. If the
boys camped that night as usual, the horses would doubtless pass on to
the spring, refresh themselves with a good drink, eat their fill of the
luxuriant grass growing about, take a good rest, and by the time their
pursuers reached the valley, which would be on the afternoon of the
following day, the wild nags would be ready for a long and hard test of
endurance. In order to prevent this the council of war, which Eugene
called, decided that no camp should be made that night. They would
follow the drove through the gully, drive it on past the spring, and
while two of their number made the camp and took rest and refreshment,
the other would keep the horses in motion.
Archie thought their plans had been laid with considerable skill.
He was on the right flank of the drove, which the boys called the
post of honor, for there was some responsibility connected with it.
If the horses became contrary and declined to enter the gully, the
probabilities were that they would attempt to run by it instead of
turning back, and in that event Archie was expected, if he could not
head them, to capture one of the drove; for the boys were resolved that
they would not go back to the Fort without catching something, and in
order to make the agreement more binding, they had shaken hands on it.
Archie was prepared for anything that might happen. He had put himself
in the lightest possible running order, by giving his bundle and
weapons to his companions, and discarding his jacket and hat. He had
tied a handkerchief over his head to keep his hair out of his eyes, and
rode along with his lariat in his hand and his gaze fastened upon the
leader of the drove. In his eagerness to approach as close to him as
he could, he kept his horse in a fast walk, and in this way gradually
drew ahead of some of the laggards of the drove, who, fearing that they
were about to be cut off from their companions, broke into a gallop.
This set the whole drove in motion. They went ahead at the top of their
speed, holding straight for the gully, and Archie, believing that he
should have no use for his lasso that day, was about to tie it fast to
the horn of his saddle, when he saw the leading horses suddenly swerve
from their course, and then stand motionless, gazing at some object
before them that had attracted their attention.
Archie looked, and saw something crouching behind a tree on one side
of the gully. He put his hand to his side where he usually carried his
field-glasses, but he had given them with the rest of his accoutrements
into the keeping of his friends. Then he shaded his eyes with his hand
and looked again, and after a few seconds’ close inspection made out
that the object was a human being, and not a wild animal, as he had
at first supposed. And a most forlorn looking specimen it was too,
unless his eyes greatly deceived him. It wore the most dilapidated suit
of clothes that Archie had ever seen; its feet looked like two small
barrels, being wrapped in blankets or hides, no doubt, and from under
something on its head, which might once have been called a hat, the
long unkempt hair was sticking in every direction. Archie did not get a
good glimpse of its face, and indeed he did not think to try. His mind
was fully occupied with the horses. Forgetting every thing except that
the frightened animals were on the point of taking to their heels, and
thereby causing him and his companions the loss of three days’ hard
work, Archie called to the man, for such he believed the apparition
to be.
“Say, you!” he shouted. “Couldn’t you step back out of sight a moment,
long enough to allow these horses to pass you?”
The figure complied with a readiness that was surprising. As if
frightened by the sound of his voice, it disappeared on the instant,
and made a most precipitate retreat up the hillside, if one might judge
by the shower of stones that came rattling down among the bushes. The
noise frightened the horses worse than ever. The leaders turned back
upon those behind them, and for a few seconds they were mixed up in
great confusion, some pressing one way and some the other. Archie
believing that the hunt was virtually over, and that he and his friends
were to have nothing but their trouble for their pains, determined to
make one bold stroke to save their fortunes. In response to a touch
from the spurs his horse sprang forward, the wild steeds parting right
and left before him, and with a few rapid bounds carried his rider into
the very midst of the drove.
Fred and Eugene had stopped at the first sign of commotion among the
wild horses, not knowing how to account for it and utterly at a loss
what to do. Being willing to leave the management of affairs entirely
in Archie’s hands, they sat in their saddles and watched his motions
with the greatest interest. When they saw him dashing into the drove,
and his lasso flying from his hand, uncoiling itself as it went, their
joy knew no bounds.
“The hunt is over,” shouted Eugene, in great glee. “Dick says he doesn’t
miss his aim once in a hundred times.”
“Then this throw must be the unlucky one,” said Fred, in reply, “for he
has certainly missed.”
When Fred spoke Archie’s horse was standing motionless, and his rider
was hauling in his lasso hand over hand. If he had failed in one thing
he was successful in another, for his sudden charge had assisted the
horses to decide a point they were unable to decide for themselves. It
showed them that the only safe way of retreat was toward the gully,
and into it they went with all the speed of which they were capable,
every one of them giving a wide berth to the tree behind which had
stood the object that occasioned their alarm. Fred and Eugene, although
greatly disappointed, had seen a sight they would not have missed for
a good deal. They had seen a lasso thrown at a wild horse, and that
was something to put into the next letter they wrote to their friend
Wilson. When they came up with Archie they found him bent half double,
holding his horse by the bridle and peeping up under the bushes which
covered the side of the gully.
“Well, you didn’t catch him, did you?” exclaimed Eugene.
“No, but I did my best, and if my lariat had been a little longer, I’d
have had a different story to tell, for I made as straight a throw for
his head as I ever made in my life. But I am encouraged after all. I
know that my horse has had good training and can be depended on. When
the lasso left my hand he stopped as if he had been shot. If I can only
get another chance like that the bay is ours.”
“Has one of them gone up there?” asked Fred, seeing that Archie was
still peering under the bushes.
“What was it that made such a commotion among them?” inquired Eugene.
“The horses have all gone on down the gully, but the thing that
frightened them went up here,” replied Archie.
“What was it?”
“The Wild Man of the Woods.”
“The what?”
“Well, I wish you had seen him—for I don’t know what else to call him.
He stood here behind this tree, and the sight of him turned the horses
and frightened them so badly that I was afraid they were going to run
away from us.”
“Was it a man?”
“I judge so. He certainly was not an animal, for he was dressed; but he
acted like an animal, for when I spoke to him and asked him to get back
out of sight, he went up the hill on all-fours like a streak.”
“There’s something been up there, sure enough,” said Eugene. “The fresh
dirt on those stones shows that they have but recently been dislodged
from their bed.”
“What could it have been?” asked Fred, greatly astonished.
“Ask me something hard,” replied Archie. “If there had been a menagerie
along here lately, I should say that one of the gorillas had stolen
a suit of the keeper’s clothes and decamped. I have heard of wild
men, but I never saw one before, and I have no desire to make his
acquaintance. Whoever he is he had better visit some trader pretty
soon, or go to hunting furs, for his clothes will not last him much
longer.”
“Well, what’s to be done about it?”
“Nothing,” answered Eugene. “We’re hunting wild horses, and I suggest
that we leave the wild men to take care of themselves.”
“That’s my idea,” said Archie, springing into his saddle; “so let’s
jog along and keep the drove moving. The sun says it is pretty nearly
supper time; so I think I’ll take a bite. But, fellows, I should really
like to know what that thing was.”
The others said they would like to know too. There was much speculation
indulged in, and Archie was required to describe the object and its
actions again and again; and after each description his companions
shook their heads, as if to say that the matter was too deep for
them, and applied themselves with renewed energy to the bread and
meat and flasks of cold tea which they drew from the pockets of their
shooting-jackets. They could not explain it after half an hour’s
debate, and they finally came to the conclusion that they did not know
anything about it and never would. After that nothing was said on the
subject, although they did not cease to think about it, and each boy
smiled at his neighbor when he saw him looking toward the top of the
cliffs which hung over the gully, for he knew that he was looking to
see if there were any signs of the wild man.
By the time their supper was over (they had eaten it as they rode
along), they again came up with the wild horses, which, having
recovered from their fright, were moving steadily on down the gully,
stopping only to take occasional bites at the grass which grew in
little bunches at the foot of the cliffs. It was almost dark now, and
the boys, as they twisted about in their hard saddles, trying to find a
comfortable position for their aching limbs, thought of the twenty long
miles yet before them, and wished for a roaring fire and a soft, warm
blanket. And these twenty miles were to be ridden during the night,
through a gorge with which they were entirely unacquainted. There
might be a thousand perils and obstacles in their way. Some savage
beast, like Old Davy, might have an ambush in there somewhere, or their
path might lead along the edge of some deep long chasm, where a single
slip on the part of their horses would send them to destruction. Archie
was somewhat hardened to such things, but his companions were not, and
when it is known that Eugene was the one who planned and suggested
this night ride, it will be seen that he was resolved to accomplish
something.
In less than twenty minutes after the sun went down a deep gloom began
to settle over the gorge, and in twenty minutes more it was so dark in
there that the boys could not discern the nearest objects. The wild
horses were close before them, following a well-beaten path in Indian
file, but the boys could not see them. They were obliged to trust
entirely to the animals they rode, and these, in turn, trusted to the
leader of the drove. The boys beguiled the weary hours with song and
story, awaking a thousand echoes in the gorge and no doubt startling
more than one wild beast which was going his nightly rounds. But, what
was very surprising, the wild horses, after the first few minutes,
seemed to pay no attention to their voices. Only once were they
frightened, and that was when a violent rustling in a thicket of bushes
at the foot of the cliff, drew a couple of shots from Eugene’s rifle.
Then they galloped on in advance, but were again overtaken at the end
of half an hour, and their pursuers kept close company with them until
daylight—so close, in fact, that Eugene’s nag received one or two
admonitory kicks from the last horse in the line.
The night passed at length, to the boys’ great relief, and the morning
sun began to gild the summits of the surrounding mountains. His rays
gradually found their way into the gorge which just here was as
straight as if it had been cut out for a railroad, and about a mile
in advance of them the boys saw the valley into which it opened. The
horses saw it too, and gradually quickened their pace to a rapid walk,
then to a trot, and finally to a gallop; but their pursuers kept
close behind, Archie leading the way. Their object now was to drive
them beyond the spring, which Dick told them they would find at the
end of the gorge; and Archie, thinking that he might possibly have
another opportunity to try his lasso on the bay, handed his bundle and
weapons to his friends, and pressed close upon the rear of the drove.
Furthermore, he anticipated the very thing that happened—a momentary
confusion about the spring, which Eugene, from the information the
trapper had given him, was able to describe so accurately that Archie
knew just where to look to find it, and a chance to use his lasso,
which, if quickly improved, would save them a day or two of hard work.
Archie noticed that the horses were not nearly as wild as they had
appeared to be when they first found them. They had grown more and more
accustomed to the presence of their pursuers as the days went by, and
now, having passed the night in their immediate company, they seemed
to pay no more attention to them than they did to the members of the
drove. Archie could not decide whether this indifference was the result
of fatigue or increasing confidence; but whatever it was, he was ready
to take advantage of it. In order to see just how far he could go, he
turned his horse out on one side, and to his great gratification and
the no small surprise of his companions, galloped along side by side
with the rear horses in the drove, which, if they felt any displeasure
at this familiarity, showed it only by laying back their ears and
biting at his horse.
Archie gradually urged his nag forward, and before the valley was
reached he had passed more than half the drove, and was riding
within fifty yards of the bay which looked over his shoulder at him
occasionally, but did not increase his speed or show any alarm. He
was heading straight for the spring. Archie began to tremble with
excitement. One after the other the members of the drove were passed,
and at length only three horses were running between Archie and the
leader. Just then the bay turned quickly out of the path, and in a
moment more was standing knee-deep in the spring which bubbled out from
under the cliff.
[Illustration: ARCHIE CAPTURES THE WILD HORSE.]
And now happened the event for which Archie was looking and for which
he was prepared. The other horses crowded in upon the bay—his own
would have followed had he not restrained him—and in less time than
it takes to tell it the spring was full of rearing, kicking, biting
animals. But they were not permitted to remain there long. The leader
began to assert his authority. Raising his head with an angry snort,
he sent his heels right and left to such good purpose that he quickly
cleared a space about him. The instant that his head was elevated was
enough for Archie. The lariat left his hand, true to its aim this time,
and settling down over the bay’s neck was quickly drawn tight. Finding
himself fast, the horse started to run, but the other end of the lasso
was securely fastened to Archie’s saddle, and his own horse bracing
himself to meet the shock, the captured steed was thrown flat on his
side. The others snorted with terror and took to their heels in short
order.
When Fred and Eugene arrived upon the ground they saw something
exciting.