BAD NEWS FOR WAH-WAH-O-BE.
Kah-go-mish was an Apache, but he was also a father. He lay in his
rabbit-path, under the bushes, and saw the surrender of his children. Up
he came upon all fours, glaring ferociously upon their captors. For a
moment his whole body seemed to swell and quiver with wrath. Then he lay
down again, and he even smiled with pride over the excellent behavior of
Ping and Tah-nu-nu.
Sam Herrick held out his hand to
The-boy-whose-ear-pushed-away-a-piece-of-lead with a very friendly
"How!"
"Ugh! Cowboy!" said Ping. "How!"
Tah-nu-nu, on the other hand, remained primly silent, and did not reply
in any manner when one after the other of the pale-face braves around
her asked what her name was and where she came from and where she was
going.
Ping was first questioned in English, but all of that tongue that he had
picked up upon the Reservation seemed to have gone from him. Then
Colonel Evans tried him in Spanish, and he looked as if he had never in
all his life heard a Mexican speak, for the substance of the inquiry in
both languages was, "Where is Kah-go-mish? Where is your band?"
Tah-nu-nu said something to him in Apache at that moment, and a
Chiricahua, whom she had not seen, standing behind her, interpreted it
to Colonel Evans.
"That's it, is it?" exclaimed Cal's father. "She says that they mustn't
let us know that the band is in the chaparral. Now I know better what to
do."
The glances bestowed upon the Chiricahua by Ping and Tah-nu-nu were not
arrows, or they would have killed him.
"Boys," said the colonel, "treat them first-rate, but they mustn't get
away. Now let's go after Cal."
Kah-go-mish saw his children supplied with water, fed well, laughed
with, questioned, every way well-treated, and then he saw them mounted
upon fresh ponies.
"Ugh!" he muttered. "Pale-face chief heap big man. Got heart. Good. No
hurt him. Kill Mexican. No kill cowboy."
He lingered a little longer, for he wondered what those pale-faces were
up to. They rode away in squads, by different paths, and at regular
intervals he heard them blowing tremendously upon their bugles. They
fired shots, too, now and then, and the sounds receded farther and
farther into the chaparral. It was altogether a very remarkable
proceeding, such as the chief had never before heard of. He said to
himself that there must be some kind of "medicine" in it. He had no fear
of any bodily harm to his children, but their capture by the cowboys had
suddenly put a new element into all the plans he had made. He still had
the Santa Lucia horses, but the men from that ranch and its vicinity had
Ping and Tah-nu-nu.
Kah-go-mish did not go out to examine a lot of miscellaneous
camp-property left lying around loose near the spring. He did not wish
to share the fate he had meted out to the imprudent Chiricahua scout. He
suspected that a squad of cowboys, guarding the extra horses, was
lurking near by, under cover of the bushes, and that their rifles
protected the coffee-pots and kettles. He had, also, a pretty clear idea
that all the cowboys would soon return, and probably the blue-coats
also, but he believed himself rid of Colonel Romero's Mexicans. "Ugh!"
he exclaimed, at last. "Kah-go-mish is a great chief. Know what do, if
know where Mexicans gone."
Back he crept through the bushes until he deemed it safe for him to
stand erect, and then he went farther at a rapid rate, considering the
heat of the weather. He was bent upon an important purpose that called
for all sorts of activity.
"Where Mexicans gone?" was a question over which there had been several
badly puzzled arguments already.
Colonel Romero had led his men away along the trail so carefully
prepared for him by the Apaches. He had had no suspicion that the
trampled sand, so well marked by dragged lodge-poles, was all a trap.
His best scouts had fallen into it completely, and the whole command had
been entirely satisfied until they came to the patch of gravel where the
trail vanished. Even after that they pushed along until they came out at
the southwestern border of the chaparral. This was precisely what
Kah-go-mish had hoped they would do, and right before them lay the other
part of his cunningly set trap. It was an ancient trail, which was well
known by Colonel Romero and by some of his more experienced
Indian-fighters. It led deeper into their own country, and it also led
to good grass and water, to be reached by riding on until dark.
A brief council was held, but the arguments seemed to be nearly all upon
one side. It was set forth that the Apaches must have taken that road
because they could not remain in the chaparral to die of thirst and
hunger or to be struck by the American cavalry and the cowboys. The
Mexican horses and men must have water, and so they must go forward, and
that was their only road. As to their train of pack-mules and spare
horses, it was safe, they said. It would reach Cold Spring, and would
find the Americans there. It would get directions from them, and could
not lose its way.
All the remaining Mexican bugles sounded the advance, and the command
moved away along the trail. A solitary Apache boy, a head taller than
Ping, lurking near among some very thick bushes, saw them go. As soon as
they were well away he was on the back of his pony, at full gallop, and
evidently was in no doubt whatever as to the right path for him to take.
He reached the camp of his people just in time to report to the
returning Kah-go-mish that the trap set for the Mexicans had been a
complete success.
The chief had sent away that part of his many perils, but he had rapid
orders to give now. He had also a very difficult report to make to
Wah-wah-o-be, and she listened to most of it with her blanket over her
head.
Kah-go-mish told her how well Ping and Tah-nu-nu had been treated, but
she was inconsolable at first.
The-boy-whose-ear-pushed-away-a-piece-of-lead, the young chief who had
killed a cougar, and who was yet to surpass the fame of his great
father, was a prisoner in the hands of the wicked pale-faces. So was the
beautiful Tah-nu-nu, the most promising young squaw of the entire Apache
nation. Wah-wah-o-be fully appreciated her children. She knew all their
good qualities, and she mentioned most of them then and there. What if
both Ping and his sister were to be carried away to some distant place
among the great lodges and the terrible magicians of the pale-faces, and
compelled to become themselves pale-faces? To be turned into something
different from their noble father and mother? Such things had been done,
and she had heard of them.
The light of her life seemed to have departed, and Wah-wah-o-be cared
very little what further disasters might now come to her. She even
valued all the horses of the band at only a fraction of what they had
seemed to be worth that morning.
The blanket came down at last, for Kah-go-mish had given all his
directions to his warriors, and there was work proposed which seemed to
stir them to a high pitch of enthusiasm. Wah-wah-o-be had her duties
also to attend to, and she knew that they must all get out of the
chaparral. She saw her heroic husband ride away, followed by nearly all
the best braves of the band. Then she and all who were left had some
rapid packing to do, that every mule and pony might be ready for a
sudden start whenever the war-party should return. It was understood
that Kah-go-mish had outwitted the Mexicans, the blue-coats, and the
cowboys, and that he was about to do something very remarkable. What,
thought Wah-wah-o-be, if he should also succeed in winning back Ping and
Tah-nu-nu?
He did not seem to go after them at once. He led his warriors, as nearly
directly as the crooked paths permitted, to the very trail by which they
had entered the chaparral. It was an especially wide and well-marked
north-and-south path to Cold Spring for anybody coming from Mexico. Half
a mile or more from the spring, among the bushes along the trail,
Kah-go-mish carefully hid his dismounted warriors. All their horses were
well away behind them, and they themselves seemed to be an exceedingly
cheerful, hopeful, and self-satisfied lot of red men. If there was one
thing more than another that was exactly suited to them, it was an
ambush with a dead certainty of surprising somebody.