Upon learning the fact that they had so nearly crossed the ridge of
mountains, the Doctor resolved next day to proceed as far as the point
where the adventure with the bears had taken place, and there endeavour,
by the aid of his glass, to determine which direction to take: whether
to find a ravine by which they might descend into the plain, or whether
it would be better to remain amongst these mountains, and here continue
his search.
The place was reached in due time, and for the time being there seemed
to be no chance of getting down into the plain, either to search for the
bears or to pursue their course in that direction.
The Doctor examined the slopes and ravines, plunged down into the most
sheltered chasms, and chipped at the fragments of rock, but no sign of
silver rewarded the search, and their journey would have been useless
but for the fact that, as they were making a circuit, Joses suddenly
arrested them, for he had caught a glimpse of a little flock of mountain
sheep, and these he and Bart immediately set themselves to try and
stalk.
It was no easy task, for the little group were upon a broad shelf high
above them, and in a position that gave them an excellent opportunity
for seeing approaching danger. But this time, after taking a long
circuit, the hunters were rewarded by finding themselves well within
shot, and only separated from the timid beasts by some rugged masses of
rock.
These they cautiously approached, crawling upon hands and knees, when,
after glancing from one to the other by way of signal, Bart and Joses
fired exactly together, with the result that a splendid young ram made a
bound into the air and rolled over the edge of the shelf, falling
crashing down amongst the bushes and loose stones, to land at last but a
very short distance from where the Doctor was awaiting his companions'
return.
The most remarkable part of the little hunt, though, was the action of
the rest of the flock, which went off with headlong speed to the end of
the shelf of the mountain, where they seemed to charge the perpendicular
face of the rock and run up it like so many enlarged beetles, to
disappear directly after over the edge of the cliff upon which they had
climbed.
"At last!" panted Bart eagerly. "We shall have something good in the
larder to-day instead of running short."
"Just you wait till you've tasted it," said Joses, as he came up, drew
his knife, and he and Sam rapidly dressed the sheep, getting rid of the
useless parts, and dividing it so that each might have a share of the
load back to camp, where Joses' words proved true, the various joints
being declared to be more delicious than any meat the eaters had tasted
yet.
In these thorough solitudes amongst the hills the practice of keeping
watch had not been so strictly attended to as during the journeying in
the plains, for the horse--Indians seldom visited these rugged places,--
in fact, none but the searchers after mineral treasures were likely to
come into these toilsome regions. Hence it was then that the next night
the party were so wanting in vigilance.
Harry had been appointed to the latter half of the night, and after
diligently keeping guard through the earlier hours, Joses awakened his
successor, and fully trusting in his carrying out his duties, went and
lay down in his blanket, and in a few seconds was fast asleep.
That morning at sunrise, after a delicious night's rest, Bart rose to
have a look round before breakfast, when to his horror he saw that the
camp was apparently in the hands of the Indians, who had been allowed by
the negligent sentinel to approach while those who would have defended
it slept.
Bart's first movement was to seize his gun, his next to arouse the
Doctor.
Then he stopped short, sorry for what he had done, for just then, free
from all sling and stiffness in his wounded arm, their old friend the
chief came striding across the open space before the waggon, and upon
seeing Bart held out his hands in token of friendship.
Bart shook hands with him, and as he glanced round he could see that the
faces of those around were all familiar except one, whom the chief had
beckoned to approach, which the strange Indian did with a stately air,
when a short conversation between them and the chief took place, after
which the new-comer turned to Bart, and said in very fair English:
"The great chief Beaver-with-the-Sharp-Teeth bids me tell you that he
has been back to his people to fetch one of his warriors who can speak
the tongue of the pale-faced people, and I am that warrior. The great
chief Beaver-with-the-Sharp-Teeth says it is peace, and he comes to see
his friends and the great medicine-man, who brought him back to life
when wounded by the poisonous arrows of the Indian dogs of the plains."
"We are very glad to see Beaver-with-the-Sharp-Teeth again," cried Bart
heartily, "and delighted to find he has brought a great warrior who can
speak our language."
"So that it flows soft and sweet," said a hoarse voice, and Joses stood
up. "How are you, chief?"
The hearty, friendly look and extended hand needed no interpretation,
and the greeting between them was warm enough to bring smiles into the
faces of all the Indians, who had no scruple soon afterwards about
finishing the mountain mutton.
After the breakfast Bart and the Doctor learned that the chief Beaver,
as it was settled to call him, had been off really on purpose to get an
interpreter, knowing that he could find the trail of his friends again;
and this he had done, following them right into the mountains, and
coming upon them as we have seen.
Conversation was easy now, and Bart learned that their friends had had a
severe fight in the plains a short time before the first meeting, and
that the Beaver had felt sure that he would die of his wound, and be
left in the wilderness the same as they had left fifteen of their
number, the odds against them having been terribly great.
Later on came questions, the Beaver being anxious to know why the
Doctor's party were there.
"You have not come upon the war-path," the Beaver said, "for you are
weak in number, and you have brought a woman. Why are you here?"
Then the Doctor explained his object--to find a vein of either gold or
silver somewhere in the mountains; and as soon as it was all
interpreted, the chief laughed outright.
"He does not set much store by the precious metals, Bart," said the
Doctor, "and when I see the simplicity of their ways, it almost makes me
ashamed of our own."
Just then the Beaver talked earnestly for a few moments with the warrior
who interpreted, and returned to the Doctor.
"The Beaver-with-the-Sharp-Teeth says you gave him life when all was
growing black, and he thought to see his people never more; and now he
says that he rejoices that he can take his brother across the plains to
where a great river runs deep down by the side of a mighty mountain,
where there is silver in greater quantities than can be carried away."
"Does the chief know of such a place?" cried the Doctor, excitedly.
"Yes; he and I have seen it often," said the Indian.
"And will he take me there?"
"Yes; the Beaver will take his brother there, and give it all into his
hands."
"At last!" cried the Doctor excitedly. Then in a low voice, "Suppose it
should not prove to be silver after all?"
"I know it is silver," said the Indian, quietly. "Look," he cried,
taking a clumsily-made ring from his medicine-bag. "That came from
there, so did the ring upon the lariat of the chief."
"Ask him when he will take me there!" cried the Doctor.
"He says now," replied the Indian, smiling at the Doctor's eagerness and
excitement. "It is a long way, and the plains are hot, and there is
little water; but we can hunt as we go, and all will be well."
"You know the way from here down into the plain?" said the Doctor. "It
is a long way, is it not?"
The Indian smiled. "It is a very short journey," he said. "I know the
way."
In effect they started as soon as the camp was struck, and the Beaver,
leading the way, took them down a deep gulch, of whose existence they
were unaware, by which they made an easy descent into the plain, and
into which they passed with such good effect that at sunset the bold
bluff where the adventure with the bears had taken place stood up in the
distance, with the steep wall falling away on either side, looking
diminutive in the distance, and very different to what it really was.
They had had a rapid progress over a long range of perfectly level
plain, the horses, after the toils in the mountains, seeming quite
excited at having grass beneath their feet; and hence it was that when
they were camping for the night, and Bart's beautiful cob with long mane
and tail had been divested of saddle and bridle, and after being watered
was about to be secured by its lariat to the tether-peg, the excitable
little creature, that had been till now all docility and tractableness,
suddenly uttered a shrill neigh, pranced, reared up, and before Bart
could seize it by the mane, went off across the plain like the wind.
The loss of such a beast would have been irreparable, and the Doctor and
Joses ran to untether their horses to join pursuit, but before they
could reach them, the Beaver and half a dozen of his men were after the
cob at full speed, loosing their lariats as they rode and holding them
over their heads ready to use as lassoes as soon as they could get
within reach of the fugitive.
No easy task this, for as, dolefully enough, Bart looked on from the
waggon, he could see his little horse keeping a long distance ahead,
while now the Indians seemed to be making to the left to try and cut the
restive little creature off, as he made for a wild-looking part of the
plain about a couple of miles away.
Bart was helpless, for there was no horse of their own left that was of
the slightest use for pursuit of his swift little cob, and all he could
do was to stare after those engaged in the pursuit in a hopeless way as
the truant galloped on at full speed, swishing its tail, tossing its
head, and apparently revelling in its newly-found liberty.
All at once Bart became aware of the fact that one of the Indians had
been for some minutes watching him attentively, and the man had uttered
a low guttural laugh as if he were enjoying the youth's misfortune.
"I wonder how he would like it," thought Bart, as he darted an indignant
look at the Indian, who sat upon his swift pony like a group cut in
bronze. "He might just as well have gone after Black Boy, for his pony
looks as if it could go."
Just then the Indian threw himself lightly from his nag and drew near to
Bart, with the horse-hair rein in his hand. Then he made signs to the
young fellow to mount.
"Do you mean that you will lend me the pony to go after my own?" said
Bart eagerly.
The Indian did not understand his words, but evidently realised their
meaning, for he smiled and nodded, and placed the rein in Bart's hand,
when he leaped into the saddle, or rather into the apology for a saddle,
for it was only a piece of bison hide held on by a bandage, while a sort
of knob or peg was in the place of the pommel, a contrivance invented by
the Indians to hold on by when attacking a dangerous enemy, so as to lie
as it were alongside of their horse, and fire or shoot arrows beneath
its neck, their bodies being in this way thoroughly protected by their
horses.
The Indian smiled and drew back when Bart touched the pony with his
heel, the result being that, instead of going off at a gallop, the
little restive beast reared up, pawing at the air with its hoofs, and
nearly falling backwards upon its rider.
The Indian looked on intently as if ready to leap forward and seize the
bridle should Bart be dismounted. But the lad kept his seat, and the
pony went on all fours again, but only to begin kicking furiously, to
dislodge the strange white-faced being upon its back. It was like an
insult to an animal that had been accustomed to carry true-blooded
Indians all its life, dressed in skins ornamented with feathers and
neatly painted up for special occasions, to have a pale-faced,
undersized human animal in strange clothes mounted upon it; and the
proper thing seemed to be to kick him off as soon as it could.
These seemed to be the ideas of the Indian pony as exemplified by its
acts; but the wildest of animals of the horse family cannot always do as
they please, and it was evidently with something like astonishment that
the little steed found Bart, still fixed firmly upon its back instead of
flying over its head or slipping off backwards over the tail.
This being so, the pony began to what is called "buck," that is to say,
instead of letting its back remain in an agreeable hollow curve, one
which seems to have been made by nature on purpose to hold a human
being, it curved its spine in the opposite direction, arching it as a
cat would, but of course in a modified way, and then began leaping up
from the earth in a series of buck jumps, all four hoofs from the ground
at once.
Still, in spite of this being the most difficult form of horse trouble
to master, Bart kept his seat. He was jerked about a great deal, but he
had been long used to riding restive horses, and he sat there as coolly
as if in a chair.
Then the Indian pony uttered a few shrill snorts and squeaks, throwing
up its head, and finally turning round, first on one side then upon the
other, it tried to bite its rider's legs--attacks which Bart met by a
series of sharp blows, given with the lariat that was coiled by the
horse's neck.
These pranks went on for a few minutes, the Indian looking smilingly on
the while, till, seeing that Bart was not to be dislodged, the pony
began to back and finally lay down.
This of course dismounted the rider, and with a snort of triumph the
pony sprang to its feet again, evidently meaning to bound off after
Black Boy and enjoy a turn of freedom.
The pony had reckoned without its rider, for Bart was too old at such
matters to leave his grasp of the rein, and the Indian cob's first
knowledge of its mistake was given by a sharp check to its under jaw,
round which the horse-hair rope was twitched, the next by finding its
rider back in his old place where he had leaped as lightly as could be.
The Indian gave an approving grunt, and uttering what was quite a sigh,
the pony resigned itself to its fate, and obeying the touch of Bart's
heel, went off at a fine springing gallop.
It was a long chase and an arduous one, for Black Boy seemed to laugh to
scorn all attempts at capture--of course these were horse-laughs--and
led his pursuers a tremendous run; and had it not been for his master,
late as he was in the field, the cob would not have been captured that
night. As it was, Bart went off at speed, setting at defiance
prairie-dogs' burrows, and other holes that might be in his way, and at
last he contrived to cut off a corner so as to get nearer to his nag,
when, taking the rein beneath his leg, he placed both hands to his mouth
and uttered a long shrill cry.
It acted like magic upon Black Boy, who recognised it directly as his
master's call, and having had his frolic, he trotted slowly towards
where Bart cantered on, suffered himself to be caught, and the party
returned in triumph, none the worse, save the tiring, for the adventure.