There's something wonderfully inspiriting in sunshine--something that
makes the heart leap and the blood course through the veins, raising the
spirits, and sending trouble along with darkness far away into the
background.
As the sun rose, flooding the wild plains with heat, and Bart drew rein
and looked about after his long night-ride to see that there was hardly
a cloud in sight, and, better still, no sign of Indians, he uttered a
cry of joy, and bent down and smoothed and patted his brave little
steed, which had carried him so far and so well.
Then he had a good look round, to see if he could make out his position,
and, after a while, came to the conclusion that he was not so very far
out of his way, and that by turning off a little more to the west he
would soon be in the direct route.
In patting and making much of Black Boy, Bart found that the little
horse was dripping with perspiration, many, many miles running having
been got over in the night; and if the journey was to be satisfactorily
performed, he knew that there must be some time for rest.
With this idea, then, Bart turned a little to the east, and rode
straight for a clump of trees about a couple of miles away, a spot that
promised ample herbage and shade, perhaps water, while, unseen, he could
keep a good look-out over the open plain.
The patch Bart reached was only of a few acres in extent, and it offered
more than he had bargained for, there being a pleasantly clear pool of
water in an open spot, while the grass was so tempting that he had
hardly time to remove Black Boy's bit, so eager was he to begin. He was
soon tethered to a stout sapling, however, feeding away to his heart's
content, while, pretty well wearied out by his long night-ride, Bart sat
down beneath a tree where he could have a good view of the plain over
which he had ridden, and began to refresh himself, after a good draught
of pure cool water, with one of the long dry strips of bison-meat that
formed his store.
Nature will have her own way. Take away from her the night's rest that
she has ordained for man's use and refreshment, and she is sure to try
and get it back. And so it was here; for as Bart sat munching there in
the delicious restfulness of his position, with the soft warm breeze
just playing through the leaves, the golden sunshine raining down
amongst the leaves and branches in dazzling streams, while the pleasant
whirr and hum of insects was mingled with the gentle _crop, crop, crop_
of Black Boy's teeth as he feasted on the succulent growth around, all
tended to produce drowsiness, and in a short time he found himself
nodding.
Then he roused himself very angrily, telling himself that he must watch;
and he swept the plain with his eyes. But, directly after, as he
thought that he must hurry on, as it was a case of life and death, he
was obliged to own that the more haste he exercised the less speed there
would be, for his horse could not do the journey without food and rest.
That word rest seemed to have a strange effect upon him, and he repeated
it two or three times over, his hand dropping wearily at his side as he
did so, and his eyes half closing while he listened to the pleasant hum
of the insects all around.
Then he started into wakefulness again, determined to watch and wait
until a better time for sleep; but as he came to this determination, the
sound of the insects, the soft cropping and munching noise made by Black
Boy, and the pleasant breath of the morning as it came through the
trees, were too sweet to be resisted, and before poor Bart could realise
the fact that he was ready to doze, he was fast asleep with his head
upon his breast.
The sun grew higher and hotter, and Black Boy, who did not seem to
require sleep, cropped away at the grass till he had finished all that
was good within his reach, after which he made a dessert of green leaves
and twigs, and then, having eaten as much as he possibly could, he stood
at the end of his tether, with his head hanging down as if thinking
about the past night's storm or some other object of interest, ending by
propping his legs out a little farther, and, imitating his master, going
off fast asleep.
Then the sun grew higher still, and reached the highest point before
beginning to descend, and then down, down, down, all through the hot
afternoon, till its light began to grow softer and more mellow, and the
shadows cast by the tree-trunks went out in a different direction to
that which they had taken when Bart dropped asleep.
All at once he awoke in a fright, for something hard was thumping and
pawing at his chest, and on looking up, there was Black Boy right over
him, scraping and pawing at him as if impatient to go on.
"Why, I must have been asleep," cried Bart, catching at the horse's
head-stall and thrusting him away. "Gently, old boy; your hoofs are not
very soft. You hurt."
He raised himself up, stretching the while.
"How tiresome to sleep like that!" he muttered. "Why, I had not
finished my breakfast, and--"
Bart said no more, but stood there motionless staring straight before
him, where the plain was now ruddy and glowing with the rays of the
evening sun.
For there, about a mile away, he could see a body of some twenty or
thirty Indians coming over the plain at an easy rate, guided evidently
by one on foot who ran before them with bended head, and Bart knew as
well as if he had heard the words shouted in his ear that they were
following him by his trail.
There was not a moment to lose, and with trembling hands he secured the
buckles of his saddle-girths, and strapped on the various little
articles that formed his luggage, slung his rifle, and then leading the
cob to the other side of the patch of woodland, where he would be out of
sight of the Indians, he mounted, marked a spot on the horizon which
would keep him in a direct line and the woodland clump as long as
possible between him and his enemies, and rode swiftly off.
The inclination was upon him to gaze back, but he knew in doing so he
might swerve from the bee-line he had marked out, and he resisted the
temptation, riding on as swiftly as his cob could go, and wondering all
the while why it was that he had not been seen.
If he had been with the Apaches he would have ceased to wonder, for
while Bart was galloping off on the other side, his well-rested and
refreshed horse going faster and faster each minute as he got into
swing, the Indians began to slacken their pace. There was no doubt
about the trail, they knew: it led straight into the patch of woodland;
and as this afforded ample cover, they might at any moment find
themselves the objects of some able rifle-firing; and as they had
suffered a good deal lately in their ranks, they were extra cautious.
The trail showed that only one fugitive was on the way, him of whom
their dying comrade had spoken; but then the fugitive had made straight
for this clump of trees, and how were they to know but that he expected
to meet friends there, whose first volley would empty half the saddles
of the little troop?
Indians can be brave at times, but for the most part they are cowardly
and extremely cautious. Naturally enough an Indian, no matter to what
tribe he belongs, has a great objection to being shot at, and a greater
objection to being hit. So instead of riding boldly up, and finding out
that Bart had just galloped away, the Apaches approached by means of
three or four dismounted men, who crept slowly from clump of brush to
patch of long grass, and so on and on, till first one and then another
reached the edge of the woody place, where they rested for a time,
eagerly scanning each leaf and tree-trunk for an enemy at whom to fire,
or who would fire at them.
Then they crept on a little farther, and found Bart's halting-place and
the feeding-ground of the horse. Then they came by degrees upon his
trail through the wood, all very fresh, and still they went on
cautiously, and like men to whom a false step meant a fatal
bullet-wound, while all the time their companions sat there upon the
plain, keen and watchful, ready for action at a moment's notice, and
waiting the signal to come on.
At last this came, for the advanced dismounted scouts had traced the
trail to the farther edge of the wood, and seen even the deep impression
made by Bart's foot as he sprang upon his steed.
Then the mounted Apaches came on at a great rate, dashed through the
wood and came up to their friends, who triumphantly pointed to the
emerging trail, and on they all went once more, one man only remaining
dismounted to lead the party, while the rest followed close behind.
This little piece of caution had given poor Bart two hours' start, and
when the Indians came out of the wood, he had been a long time out of
sight; but there was his plainly marked trail, and that they could
follow, and meant to follow to the end.