The failure of the Beaver and his follower to put in an appearance made
Bart's heart sink down like lead, while Joses turned to him with a dull
look of misery in his eye.
"It's bad, Master Bart," he said; "it's very bad. I hates all Indians
as hard as ever I can hate 'em, but somehow the Beaver and me seemed to
get on well together, and if I'd knowed what was going to happen, it
isn't me as would have come away and left him in the lurch."
"No, Joses, neither would I," said Bart, bitterly. "But do you think--"
"Do I think he has escaped, my lad?" said Joses, sadly, for Bart could
not finish his speech; "no, I don't. The savage creatures came upon him
sudden, or they knocked him over with a bullet, and he has died like an
Indian warrior should."
"No," said a sharp voice behind them; and the interpreter stood there
with flashing eyes gazing angrily at the speakers. "No," he cried
again, "the Beaver-with-Sharp-Teeth is too strong for the miserable
Apache. He will come back. They could not kill a warrior like that."
"Well, I hope you're right, Mr Interpreter," growled Joses. "I hope
you are right, but I shall not believe it till I see him come."
There was no time for further conversation, the approach of the enemies
being imminent. On the one side, far out on the plain, were scattered
bodies of the Apaches, evidently in full war-paint, riding about in some
kind of evolution; and, as the Doctor could see with his glass, for the
most part armed with spears.
Some of the men bore the strong short bow that had been in use among
them from time immemorial, and these could be made out by the thick
quiver they had slung over their backs. But, generally speaking, each
Indian carried a good serviceable rifle, pieces of which they could make
deadly use.
At present there seemed to be no intention of making an immediate
attack, the Indians keeping well out in the plain beyond the reach of
rifle-ball, though every now and then they gathered together, and as if
at the word of command, swept over the ground like a whirlwind, and
seemed bent upon charging right up to the mountain.
This, however, they did not do, but turned off each time and rode back
into the plain.
"Why do they do that, Joses?" said Bart, eagerly.
"To see all they can of our defences, my lad. They'll come on foot at
last like the others are doing, though I don't think they'll manage a
very great deal this time."
For the party from the canyon, now swollen to nearly fifty men, were
slowly approaching from the direction of the chimney, and making use of
every tuft, and bush, and rock, affording Bart a fine view from the
gallery of the clever and cunning means an Indian will adopt to get
within shot of an enemy.
They had crept on and on till they were so near that from the
hiding-place in the gallery which protected the cattle Joses could have
shot them one by one as they came along, the men being quite ignorant of
the existence of such a defence, as nothing was visible from the face of
the rock.
"I shan't fire so long as they don't touch the horses or the cattle,"
said Joses, "though perhaps I ought to, seeing how they have killed our
best friend. Somehow, though, I don't feel to like shooting a man
behind his back as it were. If they were firing away at us the thing
would be different. I could fire them it back again then pretty
sharply, I can tell you!"
Joses soon had occasion to use his rifle, for, finding themselves
unmolested, the Indians took advantage of every bit of cover they could
find; and when this ceased, and there was nothing before them but a
patch of open plain, they suddenly darted forward right up to the cattle
corral, the tracks of the animals going to and fro plainly telling them
the entrance, as the odour did the men who had crept up by night.
Reaching this, they made a bold effort to get an opening big enough for
the cattle to be driven out; but without waiting for orders, the Indians
in the rock gallery opened fire, and Joses and Bart caught the
infection, the latter feeling a fierce kind of desire to avenge his
friend the Beaver.
The rifle-shots acted like magic, sending the Apaches back to cover,
where they began to return the fire briskly enough, though they did no
more harm than to flatten their bullets, some of which dropped
harmlessly into the rifle-pits, and were coolly appropriated by the
Beaver's followers for melting down anew.
"Don't shoot, my lads," said Joses before long; "it is only wasting
ammunition. They are too well under cover. Let them fire away as long
as they like, and you can pick up the lead as soon as they are gone."
The interpreter told his fellows Joses' words, and they ceased firing
without a moment's hesitation, and crouched there with their white
friends, listening to the loud crack of the Apaches' rifles, and the
almost simultaneous _fat_! of the bullet against the rock.
Not a man in the gallery was injured in the slightest degree, while, as
soon as he had got over a sort of nervous feeling that was the result of
being shot at without the excitement of being able to return the fire,
Bart lay watching the actions of the Apaches, and the senseless way in
which they kept on firing at the spots where they fancied that their
enemies might be.
The cover they had made for was partly scrubby brush and partly masses
of stone lying singly in the plain, and it was curious to watch an
Indian making his attack. First the barrel of his rifle would be
protruded over some rugged part of the stone, then very slowly a feather
or two would appear, and then, if the spot was very closely watched, a
narrow patch of brown forehead and a glancing eye could be seen. Then
where the eye had appeared was shut out by the puff of white smoke that
suddenly spirted into the air; and as it lifted, grew thin, and died
away, Bart could see that the barrel of the rifle had gone, and its
owner was no doubt lying flat down behind the piece of rock, which
looked as if no Indian had been near it for years.
Five minutes later the muzzle of the rifle would slowly appear from
quite a different part, and so low down that it was evident the Apache
was lying almost upon his face. This time perhaps Bart would note that
all at once a little patch of dry grass would appear, growing up as it
were in a second, as the Indian balanced it upon the barrel of his
piece, making it effectually screen his face, while it was thin and open
enough for him to take aim at the place from whence he had seen flashes
of fire come.
Bart saw a score of such tricks as this, and how a patch of sage-brush,
that looked as if it would not hide a prairie dog began to send out
flashes of fire and puffs of smoke, telling plainly enough that there
was an Indian safely ensconced therein.
The Apaches' attitudes, too, excited his wonder, for they fired face
downwards, lying on their sides or their backs, and always from places
where there had been no enemy a minute before; while, when he was weary
of watching these dismounted men at their ineffective toil, there were
their friends out in the plain, who kept on swooping down after leaving
their spears stuck in the earth a mile away. They would gallop to
within easy range, and then turning their horses' heads, canter along
parallel with the mountain, throw themselves sidewise on the flank of
their horse farthest from the place attacked, take aim and fire beneath
the animal's neck, their own bodies being completely hidden by the
horse. It is almost needless to say that the shots they fired never did
any harm, the position, the bad aim, and the motion of the horse being
sufficient to send the bullets flying in the wildest way, either into
the plain or high up somewhere on the face of the rock.
All at once this desultory, almost unresisted attack came to an end, as
a fresh body of Indians cantered up; many of the latter leading horses,
to which the attacking party from the canyon now made their way; and
just at sundown the whole body galloped off, without so much as giving
the beleaguered ones a farewell shot.
Bart watched them go off in excellent order right away out into the
plain, the orange rays of the setting sun seeming to turn the half-nude
figures into living bronze. Then the desert began to grow dim, the sky
to darken, a few stars to peep out in the pale grey arch, and after a
party had been deputed to keep watch, this intermission in the attack
was seized upon as the time for making a hearty meal, the sentries not
being forgotten.
"And now, Bart," said the Doctor, "I shall keep the gate myself to-night
with half a dozen men. I should like you and Joses to watch in the
gallery once more with the Beaver's men. These Apaches will be back
again to-night to try and drive off the capital prize, if they could get
it, of our cattle."
"Very good, sir," said Bart, cheerily; "I'll watch."
"So will I," growled Joses.
"I wish you had the Beaver to help you. Poor fellow!" said the Doctor,
sadly; "his was a wonderful eye. The interpreter will become chief now,
I suppose."
"Perhaps so, sir," said Bart; "but he says that the Beaver is not dead,
but will come back."
"I would he spoke the truth," said the Doctor, sadly. "The poor fellow
died that we might be saved, like a hero. But there, we have no time
for repining. Let us get well into our places before dark. Joses, can
you be a true prophet?" he added.
"What about, master?" said the frontiersman.
"And tell me when I may be allowed to mine my silver in peace?"
"No, master, I'm not prophet enough for that. If you killed off all
these Injun, you might do it for a time, but 'fore long a fresh lot
would have sprung up, and things would be as bad as ever. Seems to me
finding silver's as bad as keeping cattle. Come along, Master Bart. I
wish we had some of them salmon we speared."
"Never mind the salmon," said Bart, smiling; "we escaped with our
lives;" and leading the way, they were soon ensconced in their places,
watching the darkness creep over the plain like a thick veil, while the
great clusters of stars came out and shone through the clear air till
the sky was like frosted gold.
"Do you think the Apaches will come again to-night?" said Bart, after an
hour's silence.
"Can't say, my lad. No, I should say. Yes, I should say," he whispered
back; "and there they are."
As he spoke, he levelled his rifle at the first of two dusky figures
that had appeared out in the plain, rising as it were out of the earth;
but before he could fire, there was a hand laid upon his shoulder, and
another raised the barrel of his piece.
"Treachery!" shouted Joses. "Bart, Master Bart, quick--help!"
There was a fierce struggle for a few moments, and then Joses loosened
his hold and uttered an exclamation full of vexed impatience.
"It's all right, Master Bart," he cried. "Here, give us your hand, old
Speak English," he added, clapping the interpreter on the shoulder,
"it's of no use for us English to think of seeing like you, Injun."
"What does all this mean, Joses?" whispered Bart, excitedly, for it
seemed marvellous that two Indians should be allowed to come up to their
stronghold unmolested.
"Why, don't you see, my lad," cried Joses, "Beaver and his chap arn't
dead after all. There they are down yonder; that's them."
Bart leaped up, and forgetful of the proximity of enemies, waved his cap
and shouted: "Beaver, ahoy! hurrah!"
The two Indians responded with a cheery whoop, and ran up to the rocks,
while Bart communicated the news to the Doctor and his fellow-guardians
of the gate, where the lad pushed himself to the front, so as to be the
first to welcome the chief back to their stronghold--a welcome the more
warm after the belief that had been current since his non-return.
The Doctor's grasp was so friendly that the chief seemed almost moved,
and nodding quietly in his dignified way, he seated himself in silence
to partake of the refreshments pressed upon him by his friends.
"The Apache dogs must live longer and learn more before they can teach
the Beaver-with-Sharp-Teeth," said the interpreter scornfully to Joses.
"I'm very glad of it," said the latter, heartily. "I hate Injun, but
somehow I don't hate the Beaver and you, old Speak English, half--no,
not a quarter--so much as I do some of 'em. I say, how could you tell
in the dark that it was the Beaver?"
"Speak English has eyes," said the Indian, accepting the nickname Joses
gave him without a moment's hesitation. "Speak English uses his eyes.
They see in the dark, like a puma or panther, as much as yours see in
the sunshine."
"Well, I suppose they do," said Joses, with a sigh. "I used to think,
too, that I could see pretty well."
They were back now in the gallery, keeping a steady watch out towards
the plain, Bart being with them, and all were most anxiously waiting
till the Beaver and his companion should come; for they were steadily
endeavouring to make up for a very long fast to an extent that would
astound an Englishman who saw a half-starved Indian eating for the first
time. Joses and Bart made no scruple about expressing their wonder as
to how it was that the Beaver had managed to escape; but the interpreter
and his fellows hazarded no conjecture whatever. They took it for
granted that their clever chief would be sure to outwit the Apaches, and
so it had proved.
At last the Beaver came gliding softly into their midst, taking his
place in the watch as if nothing whatever had happened; and in reply to
Bart's eager inquiries, he first of all raised himself up and took a
long and searching survey of the plain.
This done, he drew the interpreter's attention to something that had
attracted his own notice, and seemed to ask his opinion. Then the
Indian changed his position, and sheltering his eyes from the starlight,
also took a long searching look, ending by subsiding into his place with
a long, low ejaculation that ended like a sigh.
"That means it is all right," whispered Joses.
"Yes; all right," said the Beaver, turning his dark face toward them,
and showing his white teeth, as if pleased at being able to comprehend
their speech.
"Then now tell us, Beaver, how it was you managed to get away."
Without following the chief's halting delivery of his adventures in
English, it is sufficient to say that he and his follower kept the
Apaches back as they made attempt after attempt to ascend the chimney,
shooting several, and so maddening the rest that they forgot their usual
cautious methods of approach, and at last gathered together, evidently
meaning to make a headlong rush.
This, the Beaver knew, meant that he and his man must be overpowered or
shot down before they could reach the pathway of the natural fort, so
cunning was brought to bear to give them time.
He knew that the Apaches would be sure to spend some few minutes in
firing, partly to distract their enemies and partly to give them the
cover of abundant smoke for their approach before they made their final
rush; and taking off his feather head-gear, he secured it with a couple
of stones so near the top of the rock which sheltered him and his
companion that the eagle plumes could be seen by the Apaches as they
gathered below.
His companion did the same, and as soon as this was done, they broke
away from their hiding-place, and ran a few yards over the soft, sandy
soil at the edge of the patch of forest, to some rocks, making deep
impressions with their moccasins. Then, taking a few bounds along the
hard rock, they found a suitable place, and there the Beaver bent down,
his follower leaped upon his shoulders, and he walked quickly backward
into the forest.
"And so made only one trail!" cried Bart, excitedly.
"And that one coming from the trees if the Apaches should find it," said
Joses, grinning. "Well, you are a clever one, Beaver, and no mistake."
To put the chiefs words in plain English:
"We had only just got into cover when we heard the firing begin very
sharply, and knowing that there was not a moment to lose, we backed
slowly in among the trees till it grew stony, and our moccasins made no
sign, and then my young man stepped down, and we crept from cover to
cover, stopping to listen to the yelling and howling of the dogs, when
they found only our feathers; and then we seemed to see them as they
rushed off over the plain, meaning to catch us before we were in safety.
But the dogs are like blind puppies. They have no sense. They could
not find our trail. They never knew that we were behind them in the
forest; and there we hid, making ourselves a strong place on the edge of
the canyon, where we could wait until they had gone; and when at last
they had gone, and all was safe, we came on, and we are here."
"They wouldn't have escaped you like that, would they, Beaver?" said
Bart, after shaking hands once more warmly, and telling him how glad he
was to see him back.
"Escaped me?" said the Beaver, scornfully; "there is not one of my young
men who would have been trifled with like that."
This he said in the Indian tongue, and there was a chorus of assenting
ejaculations.
"But the Apaches are blind dogs, and children," he went on, speaking
with bitter contempt. "They fight because they are so many that one
encourages the other, but they are not brave, and they are not warriors.
The young men of the Beaver-with-Sharp-Teeth are all warriors, and
laugh at the Apaches, for it takes fifty of them to fight one of my
braves."
He held up his hand to command silence after this, and then pointed out
into the plain.
"Can you see anything, Joses?" whispered Bart.
"Not a sign of anything but dry buffler grass and sage-brush. No; it's
of no use, Master Bart, I've only got four-mile eyes, and these Injun
have got ten-mile eyes. Natur's made 'em so, and it's of no use to
fight again it. 'Tis their natur to, and it arn't our natur to, so all
we can do is to use good medicine."
"Why, you don't think that physic would do our eyes any good, do you,
Joses?" whispered Bart.
"Physic, no! I said medicine," chuckled Joses.
"Well, what's the difference?" replied Bart.
"Difference enough. I meant Injun's medicine, as they call it. Didn't
the Beaver say that the master's glass was all good medicine? He
thought it was a sort of conjuring trick like their medicine-men do when
they are making rain come, or are driving out spirits, as they call it.
No; we can't help our eyes being queer, my lad, but we can use medicine
spy-glasses, and see farther than the Injun. Hold your tongue; he's
making signs."
For the Beaver had held up his hand again to command silence. Then he
drew Bart towards him, and pointed outwards.
"Apache dogs," he whispered. "Young chief Bart, see?"
"No," replied the lad, after gazing intently for some time; and then,
without a word, he glided off along the narrow, rocky, well-sheltered
path, and made his way to the Doctor, who, with his men, was upon the
_qui vive_.
"Well, Bart, what is it?" he said, eagerly.
"The Beaver can see Apaches on the plain."
"A night attack, eh?" said the Doctor. "Well, we shall be ready for
them. Why have you come--to give us warning?"
"I came first for the glass," replied Bart. "I'll send you notice if
they appear likely to attack, sir."
"Then I hope you will not have to send the notice, my lad," said the
Doctor, "for I don't like fighting in the dark."
As he spoke he handed the glass, and Bart returned to the gallery.
"Are they still there?" he whispered.
"Yes; Apache dogs," was the reply. "Good medicine."
"They won't find it so," growled Joses, "if they come close up here, for
my rifle has got to be hungry again. I'm 'bout tired of not being left
peaceable and alone, and my rifle's like me--it means to bite."
As he crouched there muttering and thinking of the narrow escapes they
had had, Bart carefully focussed the glass, no easy task in the deep
gloom that surrounded them; and after several tries he saw something
which made him utter an ejaculation full of wonder.
"What is it, my lad?" whispered Joses.
"The young chief sees the Apache dogs?" said the interpreter.
"Yes," exclaimed Bart; "the plain swarms with them."
"Then they're gathering for a big attack in the morning," said Joses.
"Are they mounted?"
"Yes, all of them. I can just make them out crossing the plain."
"Well, their horses are only good to run away on," growled Joses; "they
can't ride up this mountain. Let me have a look, my lad."
Bart handed the glass, and Joses took a long, eager look through, at the
gathering of Apache warriors.
"I tell you what," he said, "we shall have to look out or they'll drive
off every head of cattle and every leg of horse. They're as cunning as
cunning, I don't care what any one says, and some of these days we shall
open our eyes and find ourselves in a pretty mess."
"The Apache dogs shall not have the horses," said the Beaver fiercely.
"That's right; don't let 'em have them," cried Joses. "I don't want 'em
to go; but here's one thing I should like answered--How are we going to
find 'em in pasture with all these wild beasts hanging about, ready to
swoop down and make a stampede of it, and drive them off?"
"The Beaver's young men will drive the horses and cattle out," said the
Beaver, in tones of quiet confidence, "and bring them back again quite
safe."
"If you can do that," said Joses, "perhaps we can hold out; but it don't
seem likely that we shall get much salmon from down in the canyon
yonder, which is a pity, for I've took to quite longing for a bit of
that; and if the Apache don't take care, I shall have some yet."