The hours went by, but no sound or sign came from the plain; the stars
started out bright and clear, and in the east there was a faint, lambent
light that told of the coming of the moon ere long, but still all seemed
silent in the desert.
The Englishmen of the party seemed to grow weary, and began talking so
loudly that the Doctor sent sternly-worded messages to them to be
silent; and once more all was still, save when some one fidgeted about
to change his position.
"Why can't they keep still?" growled Joses, softly, as he lay perfectly
motionless, listening to every sound. "They don't understand how a
man's life--ah, all our lives--may depend on their being still. Look at
them Injuns. They never move."
Joses was quite right. Each Indian had taken his place where appointed,
and had not moved since, saving to settle down into a part of the rock.
The swarthy, muscular fellows might have been part of the stone for any
sign they gave of life.
At last the moon rose slowly above the edge of the vast plain, sending a
flood of light to bring into prominence every bush and tree, striking on
the face of the mountain, and casting its shadow right away over the
plain. From where Bart crouched he could not see the moon, for he and
his companions were behind rocks, but there was the heavy shadow of the
mountain stretching to an enormous distance; and as he watched it, and
saw how boldly it was cut, and how striking was the difference between
the illumined portions of the plain and those where the shadow fell, he
could not help thinking how easily the Indians might creep right up to
them and make a bold assault, and this idea he whispered to Joses.
"'Taint much in their way, my lad," he whispered. "Injun don't care
about night-fighting, it's too risky for them. They don't mind a sneak
up--just a few of them to scare the horses and cattle and make 'em
stampede, and they don't mind doing a bit o' spy of the enemy's camp in
the dark; but it isn't often they'll fight at night."
"But you expect them to come, don't you?"
"I don't," said Joses; "but the Beaver does, and I give in. He knows
best about it, having been so much more among the Injun than I have, and
being Injun himself. I daresay they will come, but they won't stampede
our horses, I'm thinking, and they won't get the cattle. They may get
to know where the ways are into the corral and the horse 'closure, and
perhaps find out the path up to the castle, as the master calls it."
"But they couldn't unless they came close up, Joses."
"Well, what's to hinder 'em from coming close up? They'll crawl through
the grass, and from stone to stone in the dark there, and who's to see
'em? My eyes are sharp enough, but I don't know as I should see them
coming. Let's ask the Beaver what he says."
"The Beaver-with-Sharp-Teeth has heard all you said," whispered the
interpreter, "and he says that the Apaches will come before long to find
the way into the camp, and then they will go away again if they do not
die."
A curious silence seemed to fall after this, and Bart felt, as he
crouched there watching the plains, that something very terrible was
going to happen ere long. At another time he would have been drowsy,
but now sleep was the last thing of which he thought, all his nerves
being overwrought; and as his eyes swept the wide flat plain, he kept on
fancying that sooner or later he would see the Apaches coming up to them
with the slow, silent approach of so many shadows.
And now it suddenly struck Bart that the shadow of the mountain was
shorter than when the moon first rose, and that its edges were more
boldly defined, and by this he knew, of course, that the moon was
getting higher. At the same time though, soft fleecy clouds began to
hide the stars, and at times the shadow of the mountain was blotted out,
for the moon was from time to time obscured, and the peculiar
indistinctness of the earth seemed to Bart as exactly suited for an
enemy's approach.
A slight movement at his side told him that this was the Indians' idea
as well, and that to a man they were eagerly scanning the plain and the
rugged patches of rock beneath.
Every here and there the fallen masses were piled-up into buttresses,
and it was amongst these that, after failing to keep his attention upon
the misty plain, Bart let his gaze wander till at last he became
convinced that he could see some dark patch in slow motion, and it was
long enough before he could satisfy himself that it was only a stone.
He was deceived in this way so often--the various little prominences
below him seeming to waver and move, and assume form in accordance with
his ideas--that he grew tired of watching, feeling sure at last that
there would be nothing to trouble them that night, when suddenly a soft
firm hand glided gently and silently as a snake to his wrist, took firm
hold of it and pressed it, before rising and pointing down below them
into the plain.
Bart followed the direction of the pointing hand, but he could see
nothing, and he was about to say so, when gradually sweeping past, a few
light clouds must have left the moon partially clear, and with the
sudden access of light, Bart could make out two somethings close beside
the piled-up rocks, and for some moments he could not be sure that they
were men prostrated on their chests crawling towards the entrance to the
cattle corral, for they seemed to assimilate with the colour of the
earth; and though he strained his eyes, not a trace of motion could he
detect.
By degrees though it seemed to him that one of the figures was a man,
the other some shaggy kind of crouching beast, till his eyes grew more
educated, and he decided that one was an Indian naked to the waist,
while the other was wearing his buffalo robe as an additional means of
protection.
Bart watched them attentively, and still the figures did not move. At
last, however, he saw that they had changed their position, creeping
closer to the piled-up rocks, and at last, evidently encouraged by the
fact that when the firing took place that evening there was no response,
the two savages suddenly rose erect, and went to the piled-up stones
that blocked the corral entry.
"How did they know the cattle were there?" said Bart, putting his lips
close by Joses' ear.
"Nose!" whispered back the frontiersman, laconically.
"But how could they tell that this was the entrance?" whispered Bart
again.
"Eyes!" replied Joses; and he then laid his hand upon Bart's lips, as a
sign that he must refrain from speaking any more.
Bart rather chafed at this, and he was growing excited as well, for it
troubled him that Joses and the Beaver should have let these two spies
go right up to such a treasure as the cattle corral unchallenged; and
though he would not have thought of firing at the savages, he could not
help thinking that something ought to be done--what he could not say--
for the low grating noise he now heard was certainly the Indians moving
one of the blocks of stone that had so carefully been placed there that
afternoon.
"They're opening the corral, my lad," said Joses just then, in a hoarse
whisper; "and if we don't stop 'em we shall be having 'em drive the
whole lot of bullocks and cows right away into the plains, and never see
a hoof again."
"What's to be done, then?" whispered Bart, whose face was covered with a
cold dew, while his cheeks were at fever heat.
"Well, my lad, they seem to have found out the way easy enough by
crawling over the cattle trail, and it's a very unpleasant thing to do,
but I suppose we shall either have to be robbed, or else we must stop
'em; so as the Doctor won't like all our cattle to go, I'm going to stop
'em."
"It's very horrible," whispered Bart.
"Horrid, my lad; so's having your cattle and horses stole, for if they
get one they're bound to have t'other; so is being starved to death; and
the worsest of all is being scalped, and that's sure to come if we let
them brutes go."
"But it is so horrible to shoot them, Joses," panted Bart.
"'Tis, my lad, so don't you do it. Leave it to us. Hah! that's a big
stone down, and the cattle's beginning to fidget. Now, Beaver, what do
you say?"
The Beaver answered with his rifle, which gave a sharp report, just as
the moon shone out a little more clearly.
"Hit!" said Joses, laconically, as they saw quite plainly the two
Indians start back from the rocks right out into the clear moonlight,
one of them uttering a fierce, hoarse yell, and staggering as if about
to fall, when the other sprang forward and caught him by the chest,
holding him up, and, as it was plain to see, forming of the body of his
wounded companion a shield to protect himself from the bullets of their
unseen assailants.
"They must not go away and tell tales," muttered Joses, as he took aim;
but just then the interpreter's rifle rang out, and the half-nude Indian
turned partly round, so that they could see in white paint upon his
breast, seeming to gleam horribly in the moonlight, the ghastly skull
and cross-bones that seemed to have been adopted as the badge of the
tribe. Then he fell back into the arms of his friend, who clasped his
arms round him, and backed slowly, keeping the wounded man's face to the
firing party, while, as if mechanically, the injured savage kept step.
_Crack_ went the Beaver's rifle again, and there was a dull thud telling
of a hit, but still the two Indians retreated slowly.
_Crack_! went Joses' rifle, and he uttered a low growl.
"I'll swear I hit him, but I dunno whether it touched the t'other one--a
cowardly skunk, to sneak behind his fellow like that."
_Crack_--_crack_--_crack_--_crack_! four rifles uttered their reports,
which seemed to reverberate from the face of the mountain; and as the
smoke rose slowly, and Bart could gaze at the moonlit plain, and try to
read the meaning of the fierce yell of defiance that he had heard arise,
he saw that the first Indian lay upon his back with the moon shining
upon his ghastly, painted breast, while his companion was rapidly
disappearing as he ran swiftly over the plain.
The Beaver's rifle rang out again, and he started up into a kneeling
position, gazing after the object at which he had fired, while his
fingers mechanically reloaded his piece. Then he uttered a low guttural
cry of anger, and sank down into his former position.
"Missed him, Beaver," said Joses, quietly.
"No," was the sharp retort. "He was hit, but he will escape to his dogs
of people."
This was a tremendous speech for the chief, who, however, seemed to be
acquiring the English tongue with remarkable rapidity, the fact being
that he had long known a great deal of English, but had been too proud
to make use of it till he could speak sufficiently well to make himself
understood with ease, and therefore he had brought up the interpreter as
a medium between him and his English friends.
They watched through the rest of the night, after communicating to the
Doctor the reason for the firing, but there was no fresh alarm. The
moon rose higher, and shed a clear effulgence that seemed to make the
plain as light as day, while the shadow of the mountain appeared to
become black, and the ravines and cracks in its sides to be so many
dense marks cut in solid silver.
Daylight at last, with the silvery moon growing pale and the stars
fading out. First a heavy grey, then a silvery light, then soft,
roseate tints, followed by orange flecks far up in the east, and then
one glorious, golden blaze to herald the sun, as the great orb slowly
seemed to roll up over the edge of the plain, and bring with it life,
and light, and hope.
"Hurrah!" shouted Bart, as he rose from his cramped position in the
rifle-pit. "Oh, Joses! my back! my legs! Ah, ah! Oh my! Do rub me!
I'm so stiff I can hardly move."
"That'll soon go off, my lad. There, I suppose most of us may go off
duty now, for I can't see any Injun out on the plains."
"Yes: hundreds!" said the Beaver, who had been shading his eyes and
gazing attentively over the sunlit expanse of rocky landscape dotted
with trees.
"Where, Beaver?" said Joses.
For answer the chief pointed right away, and both Joses and Bart tried
to make out what he meant, but in vain.
"Your eyes are younger than mine, Bart," said Joses at last, gruffly.
"I can't see nothing--can you?"
"No, Joses," replied Bart. "I can see nothing but trees."
The Beaver smiled.
"Ah, it's all very well for you to laugh," said Joses, bluntly, "but
you've got eyes that see round corners of hills, and through clumps of
wood and bits of mountain. I never saw such eyes in my life."
"My eyes will do," said the Beaver, quietly. "The Apaches are over
yonder. They will be on the watch to carry off the cattle or to kill us
if they can."
"Yes, that's it," said Joses; "if they can."
Without another word, the Beaver and half-a-dozen of his followers went
down the slope, and climbed the stone gateway, to leap into the plain,
where, without a word of instruction, they bore off the body of the
fallen Indian, and buried it down in the rift where the other two had
been laid, after which they returned to partake of the morning meal that
had been prepared--fires being lit in various crevices and chasms off
the zigzag way; and this meal being partaken of in the bright morning
sunshine, seemed to make the dangers of the night appear trifling, and
the spirits of the people rose.
In fact, there was no time for despondency. Every man knew when he came
out to adventure for silver that he would have to run the risk of
encounters with the Indians, and nothing could be more satisfactory than
their position. For they had a stronghold where they could set half the
Indian nations at defiance, while the savages could not hinder their
mining operations, which could be continued on the mountain if they were
invested, and at the edge of the canyon or down below, where there was
nothing to fear.
The greatest danger was with respect to the cattle, which had to be
drawn out to pasture along near the side of the lake, and this was done
at once, every available man mounting his horse and forming guard, so as
to protect the cattle and pasture his horse at the same time.
This was carried on for some days, and a careful watch was kept out
towards the plain; but though bodies of Indians were seen manoeuvring in
the distance, none approached the mountain, whose flag waved out
defiance; and as night after night passed without alarm, there were some
of the party sanguine enough to say that the Indians had had their
lesson and would come no more.
"What do you say to that, Beaver?" said Joses, laying his hand upon the
chiefs shoulder, and looking him in the face.
"Indian dog of Apache never forgives," he replied quietly. "They may
come to-day--to-morrow--next moon. Who can tell when the Apache will
come and strike? But he will come."
"There, Master Bart, hear that!" said Joses. "How about going down into
the canyon to spear salmon now?"
"The young chief, Bart, can go and spear salmon in the river," said the
Beaver, whose face lit up at the prospect of engaging in something more
exciting than watching cattle and taking care that they did not stray
too far. "The Beaver and his young men will take care the Apaches do
not come without warning."