WANDERINGS.
The light increased each moment, and Elwood Brandon soon saw the
position in which he was placed. He had walked along the path and fallen
abruptly off, alighting on a projection that ran along the edge of the
ravine, and was of sufficient width to only comfortably hold him. Had he
gone a yard forward he would have fallen over to another ledge, although
this was not more than a dozen feet below. Indeed, his rifle had done
this, and now lay on this broad band of earth and gravel, which here
sloped so gradually down to the bottom of the ravine that it could be
descended without difficulty.
His first proceeding, after thanking Heaven for the protection of the
night, was to let himself down to where his rifle lay. An examination
proved it uninjured, and with its possession came a feeling of
confidence and safety such as he had not felt for a moment during the
hours of darkness.
"Now, if that wild creature, whatever it was, would like to introduce
itself, I am prepared."
And he looked around as if he expected its appearance; but it had left
some time before. At first he was at a loss to understand what it had
chosen as its parade ground, but, concluded it must have been the very
path from which he had fallen, and where, had he remained, he could not
have avoided falling into its power.
Elwood could not see the possibility of extricating himself by the same
way in which he had entered. In some places it was necessary to climb a
score or two feet up the perpendicular side of the ravine; and as there
was no means at hand for doing this, he thought it best to press on down
among the hills in the hope of discovering a new way of egress, or an
easier access to the paths behind him.
He wandered rather aimlessly forward, his path being over loose,
rattling stones, constantly descending, until he reached the hard-packed
earth, and judged himself to be in about the lowermost part of the
valley. On every hand rose the ridges, rocks and peaks of the hills,
until, as he looked up at the cloudy sky so far above him, he seemed but
the merest pigmy.
As he turned his head he caught sight of something a few rods ahead that
puzzled him. For some time he could not make out its meaning, but
finally he saw that it was a smouldering camp-fire, while around it were
stretched five Indians--although at the moment he could not be positive
as to their number--their blankets over them and they seemingly sound
asleep.
He concluded that the best thing he could do was to leave that immediate
neighborhood as speedily as possible. He looked hurriedly around for the
best line of retreat. It was difficult to decide, and he was still
debating with himself when, as he glanced at the terrifying forms, he
fancied, or really saw, one of them move. Without further reflection he
darted a rod or two backward and shrunk in behind a breach in the rocks.
This was no hiding-place in case the Indians came along this path. He
could not conceal his body, as it was merely a niche such as would have
been made had this portion of the rocky wall been set back about a foot
from the rest. If the savages left the ravine by another direction there
was no cause for fear, but if they came this way he had good reason to
tremble.
He had scarcely ensconced himself in this place of refuge when from the
woods and rocks above him came the clear, echoing whistle of Howard
Lawrence. It startled him as if it were the whoop of this Indians so
close at hand. Of course he dare not reply to it, for it could only
precipitate his capture.
But he trembled more for the safety of his friends than himself. They
were advancing hurriedly in their search, without one suspicion of the
enemies so near them. Had he dared, to make a noise it would have have
been one of warning for Tim and Howard to hasten away ere it was too
late; but even that small comfort was denied him.
He peered cautiously out and saw that the Indians were awake, but
curiously enough appeared to pay no heed to the whistling, which to the
boy were uttered twenty times as often and as loud as there was any
need. One of the savages was stirring the fire with a stick, while the
others were looking stupidly on.
Drawing back his head, Elwood looked up among the rocks in the direction
of the signals for some sign of his friends. He was startled into a
suppressed exclamation by the sight of Tim O'Rooney's hat and face
passing along the path above him; but before he could catch his eye it
was gone and he saw it no more.
The whistling sound now gradually retreated until it sounded quite far
away, and Elwood began to feel more at ease, although not entirely so.
He wondered greatly that the suspicions of the Indians were not excited,
and that they did not hasten away at once to destroy his friends.
The report of Tim O'Rooney's gun that slew the antelope sounded
fearfully near, and sent a shiver of terror through the youngster
crouching in his hiding-place. At the same time, as he looked stealthily
out, he saw that it had attracted the attention of the Indians. All five
were standing on their feet, with their loose blankets hung over their
shoulders, and gesticulating with their arms. The sound of their voices
was plainly heard where he stood, and a thrill of hope ran through him
as he imagined that he recognised in one of them a resemblance to that
of Shasta, the Pah Utah.
At this point the boy observed the storm gathering overhead--the sullen
booming of thunder, the black clouds sweeping tumultuously across the
sky, the vivid spears of lightning darting in and out among them. A cool
wind whistled through the gorge overhead, and dust and leaves came
whirling in the air and settled all around him.
The boy looked above, and saw that when the storm did burst it was sure
to spend its full fury upon his head. Not the least particle of shelter
covered him, and he had to expect a full drenching; but this he was
willing to bear, if it would only tend to keep the attention of the
Indians diverted. It seemed to him very probable, as he stood between
them and his own friends, that in following up the suspicious report of
the rifle they would pass directly by him, in which case he had about
one chance out of a thousand of remaining unseen by them.
Elwood did not dare to look out, so fearful was he of being seen. He
believed that the heads of the savages were turned toward him, in which
case the risk was too great. He therefore, unheedful of the large drops
that were beginning to patter around him, stood and listened.
Hark! He hears their tread! His heart throbs faster than ever, as he
knows they are coming toward him! Closer and closer he shrinks to the
rock, as if to bury himself in its flinty surface.
All at once, an Indian, too tall and muscular to be Shasta, steps to
view and passes beyond him without turning his head; the second is about
the right height, but the one furtive glance stole at him shows that he
is a stranger; so as regards the third; the fourth is too short, he
passes on in the procession. The fifth and last Elwood at first believed
to be Shasta, but a second look showed him his mistake. Had he held any
doubts they were removed by the Indian abruptly pausing, turning his
face full toward him, and uttering the _"hoogh!"_ of surprise, as he saw
the boy cowering against the rocks.