"There's something wrong, Master Bart," said Joses that evening, as
Bart, rejoicing in the luxury of well-dried clothes, sat enjoying the
beauty of the setting sun, and thinking of the glories of the canyon,
longing to go down again and spend a day spearing trout and salmon for
the benefit of the camp.
"Wrong, Joses!" cried Bart, leaping up. "What's wrong?"
"Dunno," said Joses, gruffly, "and not knowing, can't say."
"Have you seen anything, then?"
"No."
"Have you heard of anything?"
"No."
"Has anybody brought bad news?"
"No."
"Then what is it?" cried Bart. "Why don't you speak."
"'Cause I've nothing to say, only that I'm sure there's something
wrong."
"But why are you sure?"
"Because the Beaver's so busy."
"What is he doing?"
"All sorts of things. He hasn't said anything, but I can see by his way
that he sniffs danger somewhere. He's getting all the horses into the
cavern stable, and making his men drive all the cattle into the corral,
and that means there's something wrong as sure as can be. Injun smells
danger long before it comes. There's no deceiving them."
"Let's go and see him, Joses," cried Bart; and, shouldering their
rifles, they walked past the drawn-up rows of empty waggons, whose
stores were all high up on the mountain.
As they reached the entrance to the corral the Indians had driven in the
last pair of oxen, while the horses and mules were already in their
hiding-place.
"Did the Doctor order this?" asked Bart.
"Not he, sir: he's busy up above looking at the silver they dug out
while we were down in the canyon. It's all the Beaver's doing, Master
Bart, and you may take it for granted there's good cause for it all."
"Ah, Beaver," said Bart, as the chief came out of the corral, "why is
this?"
"Indian dog. Apache," said the chief, pointing out towards the plain.
Bart turned sharply round and gazed in the indicated direction, but he
could see nothing, neither could Joses.
The Beaver smiled with a look of superior wisdom.
"The Beaver-with-Sharp-Teeth," said the interpreter, coming up, "hears
the Indian dog, the enemies of his race, on the wind; and he will not
stampede the horses and cattle, but leave the bones of his young men
upon the plain."
"But where are the Apaches?" cried Bart. "Oh, he means, Joses, that
they are out upon the plain, and that it is wise to be ready for them."
"Yes; he means that they are out upon the plain, and that they are
coming to-night, my lad," said Joses. Then, turning to the chief, he
patted the lock of his rifle meaningly, and the chief nodded, and said,
"Yes."
"Come," he said directly after, and he led the frontiersman and Bart to
the entrance of the stable, where his followers were putting the last
stones in position. Then he took them to the corral, which was also
thoroughly well secured with huge stones; and the Indians now took up
their rifles, and resuming their ordinary sombre manner, stood staring
indifferently about them.
Just then there was a loud hail, and turning quickly round, Bart saw the
Doctor waving his hand to them to join him.
"Indians are on the plains," exclaimed the Doctor. "I saw them from the
top of the castle,"--he had taken to calling the mountain rock "the
castle,"--"with the glass. They are many miles away, but they may be
enemies, and we must be prepared. Get the horses secured, Joses; and
you, interpreter, ask the Beaver to see to the cattle."
"All safely shut in, sir," said Bart, showing his teeth; "the Beaver
felt that there was danger an hour ago, and everything has been done."
"Capital!" cried the Doctor; "but how could he tell?"
"That's the mystery," replied Bart, "but he said there were Indian dogs
away yonder on the plains."
"Indian dog, Apache," said the Beaver, scowling, and pointing towards
the plain.
"Yes, that's where they are," said the Doctor, nodding; "he is quite
right, and this being so, we must get up into our castle and man the
walls. Let me see first if all is safe."
He walked to both entrances, and satisfied himself, saying:
"Yes; they could not be better, but, of course, all depends upon our
covering them from above with our rifles, for the Apaches could pull
those rocks down as easily as we put them there. Now then, let us go
up; the waggons are fortunately empty enough."
The Doctor led the way, pausing, however, to mount a waggon and take a
good look-out into the plain, which he swept with his glass, but only to
close it with a look of surprise.
"I can see nothing from here," he said, "but we may as well be safe;"
and entering the slit in the rock they called the gateway, he drew aside
for the last few "greasers," who had been tending the cattle, to mount
before him; then Joses, Bart, the Beaver, and his followers came in.
The strong stones kept for the purpose were hauled into place, and the
entry thoroughly blocked, after which the various points of defence were
manned, the Doctor, with several of the Englishmen, taking the passage
and the gate, while the Beaver, with Joses, Bart and the Indians, were
sent to man the ramparts, as the Doctor laughingly called them; that is
to say, the ingeniously contrived gallery that overlooked the stable
cavern and the great corral.
"You must not spare your powder if the cattle are in danger," said the
Doctor for his last orders. "I don't want to shed blood, but these
savages must have another severe lesson if they mean to annoy us. All I
ask is to be let alone."
Bart led the way, and soon after was ensconced in his rifle-pit, with
Joses on one side and the Beaver on the other, the rest of the party
being carefully arranged. Then the Doctor spread the alarm up above,
and the men armed and manned the zigzag way, but all out of sight; and
at last, just as it was growing dark, the great plain fortress looked as
silent as if there was not a man anywhere upon its heights, and yet in
their various hiding-places there were scores, each with his deadly
rifle ready to send a return bullet for every one fired by an enemy.
"No firing unless absolutely necessary," was the Doctor's whispered
order; and then all was silent while they waited to see if any enemy
would really come.
They were not long kept in doubt, for just as the heavens had assumed
that peculiar rich grey tint that precedes darkness, and a soft white
mist was rising from the depths of the canyon, there was seen, as if
arising from out of the plain itself, a dark body moving rapidly, and
this soon developed itself into a strong band of Indians, all
well-mounted in their half-naked war costume, their heads decked with
feathers, and each armed with rifle and spear.
They were in their war-paint, but still they might be disposed to be
friendly; and the Doctor was willing to believe it till he saw through
his glass that they wore the skull and cross-bones painted in white upon
their broad, brown chests, and he knew that they were of the same tribe
as had visited them before, and gone off after so severe a lesson.
Still he hoped that they might be friendly, and he was determined that
they should not be fired upon without good reason.
A few minutes later he changed his opinion, for, evidently well-drilled
by their chief, the Indians charged towards where the tilted waggons
were drawn up in the shade of the rock, riding with as much precision as
a well-drilled body of cavalry. Then, at a sign, they drew rein in a
couple of ranks, about fifty yards from the waggons, and presenting
their rifles, without word of warning, fired a volley.
Another volley followed, and another, the thick smoke rising on the
evening air, and then, apparently surprised at there being no replying
shot, about twenty galloped up with lowered spears, thrust two or three
times through the canvas tilts, and galloped back, the whole band
sweeping off the next moment as swiftly and as silently as they came,
gradually becoming fainter and more shadowy, and then quite disappearing
from the watchers' sight.
"They're gone, then?" whispered Bart, drawing a breath of relief.
"Yes; they're a bit scared by the silence," said Joses; "but they'll
come back again."
"When?" said Bart.
"Sneaking about in the dark, to stampede the horses and cattle, as soon
as ever they know where they are, my boy."
"Yes--come back," said the Beaver in a low tone, and he whispered then
to the interpreter.
"Apache dogs will come back in the night when the moon is up," said the
interpreter. "They will steal up to the camp like wolves, and die like
dogs and wolves, for they shall not have the horses and oxen."
And just then the Beaver, who seemed to comprehend his follower's
English, said softly:
"It is good."