WAITING AND WATCHING.
"Worrah! worrah! but this is a fine scare you've been givin' Tim
O'Rooney, so me uncle said whin they towld him his wife was coming over
to Ameriky to see him. Here I've been awake fur the last two hours,
jist, looking and expacting you to come back, and thinking the red
colored gintleman had carried you away entirely----"
Howard impatiently interrupted him.
"Have you seen or heard anything of Elwood?"
"No-o-o!" replied Tim, his answer rising and falling in a circumflex
through a half-dozen notes of the scale.
_"Then he is lost!"_
"What?" fairly shrieked the Irishman.
"He is lost in the woods."
Howard had little heart to go over the experiences of the afternoon. He
simply told his friend that he and Elwood had separated on their return,
and he had been unable to find him again.
"What did you separate for?" asked the listener.
"Because I was a fool; but O, Tim, there is no use of regretting what
has been done. If Elwood is lost, I shall never leave this place."
After a while Howard became more composed, and they conversed rationally
upon the best plan for them to follow. Tim O'Rooney was strenuous in his
belief that Elwood had wandered off among the hills, and finding it
growing dark, had sought some secure shelter for the night. He was sure
that he would give vigorous signs of his whereabouts as soon as day
dawned.
There was something in the daring nature of the boy that made it
probable that Tim was right. Tempted out of his path by some singular or
unexpected sight, he had wandered away until he found it too dark to
return, and so had made the best of the matter and camped in some tree,
or beneath the ledge of some projecting rock.
Such was the theory of Tim O'Rooney, and so ingeniously did he enforce
it that Howard could not avoid its plausibility. None knew better than
he the impulsive nature of the boy, and such an act upon his part would
be in perfect keeping with similar exploits.
There was but one thing that raised a doubt in the mind of Howard--and
slight as was this, it was enough to give him sore uneasiness, and at
times almost to destroy hope. At the time the boys separated, Elwood had
shown a great anxiety to reach Tim, and proposed his plan in the belief
that it would bring them together the more quickly.
This made it seem improbable to Howard that he would have allowed
anything to divert him from his course unless his personal safety caused
him to do so; but Tim said that if such were the case they would have
heard his gun.
"Do you s'pose he's the boy to lit a wild animal or any of them red
gintlemen step up to him without his tachin' thim manners? But he's the
youngster that wouldn't do the same. You'd hear that gun of his cracking
away as long as there was any lift for him to crack."
"It may be as you think, Tim, but I believe it is worse. Suppose he is
in the hands of some of these wandering bands of Indians."
"S'pose he isn't."
"We have done that; but let us face the worst. If he has been taken away
by them, what shall we do?"
"Hunt him up."
"That is true, but how that is to be done is the difficulty. If we only
had Shasta with us."
"Arrah, now, if ye'd had him ye'd've niver gone thramping off in the
woods and having me alone here with the dog. The red gintleman knowed
what was best for us, and do ye mind, he kept his eye upon yez all the
time."
Howard had thought the same thing a score of times since noon, and there
was no need of his being told how the Pah Utah would have acted had he
remained with them.
"I thinks Mr. Shasta isn't a great many miles off. P'rhaps," added Tim,
significantly, "he's kapin' watch upon us and will come to our help in
our throuble."
But the contingency, to Howard at least, was too remote for him to build
any hopes upon it. It seemed more probable that the Indian's friendship
had led him much further out of the way than they had suspected, and
that he was now many a long mile off, speeding toward home.
"He may find out that the youngster is wid 'em," added Tim, "whin he
will hasten to his relaaf."
"That seems the most likely."
"There's but one thing agin it."
"And what is that?"
But the Irishman was silent. The boy repeated his question.
"It's bad--let it be."
But Howard insisted.
"Wal, you know, they may--wal--_put him out the way_."
"O Tim!" groaned Howard, "that cannot be, that cannot be!"
"I hopes not, but there's no telling what these sarpints may take into
their heads to do. They're a bad set of craytures, always barring Mr.
Shasta, and I'd've thought a good daal more of the same if he'd only
staid a few days longer wid us."
"He thought we had enough sense to take care of ourselves, after he had
seen us through the most dangerous part of our journey, otherwise he
would have remained with us to the end. But, as I said a minute ago, it
does no good for us to lament what cannot be helped. As soon as it is
light we must go up among the hills with Terror and make a hunt for
Elwood."
"Yees spake the truth. The dog may be smarter than we is, and I'm
thinkin' it wouldn't have to be very smart to be in that same fix, and
we'll sarch till we finds out something about him."
"It is fortunate for poor Elwood that the night is so mild and
pleasant."
"Fort'nit for ourselves, be the same towken; for without our fire we'd
be rather cool when we slept, and the cold would keep us awake all
night."
"But we have the blanket with us, and that would protect us at any time,
no matter how cold it might be."
"Yis," assented Tim, with a great sigh. "If I only had me pipe under way
I'd faal somewhat more comfortable, barring the worriment I faals at the
absence of the youngster. May God watch over him through the darkniss!"
"Amen!" was this reverent response of Howard.