AN ENCOUNTER WITH “BLOODS.”
The Indians appeared to be in no hurry, and from the fact that the
carcass of a deer lay across the back of one of their ponies Ralph
judged that they were a hunting party. But the appraising glances that
they cast at the tethered ponies were by no means reassuring.
They looked about them cautiously for a time, and exchanged some hasty
words in their guttural dialect. Then the one who wore the odd-looking
frock coat and the eagle feather slipped from his pony and approached
those that were tied.
It was high time to interfere apparently; but still Ralph hung back.
Unarmed as he was, he was unwilling to show himself until actual
necessity called for it. But when the frock-coated Indian deliberately
began to unknot the tie ropes of their ponies his intention was only
too plain and the boy cast all prudence aside.
“Hey, you, let go of that pony!” he exclaimed, coming out from the
shelter of the alders.
The Indian started and turned, and his two companions did the same.
For a minute they were considerably startled, for “red coats” (mounted
police) occasionally rode through that part of the country.
But when they saw that it was only a boy who faced them, they quickly
recovered their composure.
“Hullo, white boy,” said the one that appeared to be the leader,
speaking a dialect that cannot be reproduced on paper. “Hullo, white
boy, what you want, eh?”
“I want you to leave those ponies alone,” spoke back Ralph boldly,
“they belong to me and my partner.”
“That so, eh? Well, we take them ’long small piece, savee?”
The rascal coolly bent over the rope and went on unfastening it. Ralph
was, for a minute, at a loss what to do. Then he bethought himself of
Jim in the cave.
“Jim! oh, Jim!” he cried shrilly.
“Hullo,” came a hearty voice in reply, “what’s up?”
“Some rascals are stealing----” began Ralph, when one of the mounted
Bloods slipped swiftly from his pony and, before the boy could utter an
other syllable, grasped him by the throat. Ralph was a powerful boy,
but in the hands of the wiry, muscular Blood he was no more than an
infant The man drew an ugly looking knife.
“You keep quiet, eh? Me plentee stickee you, you make any more
chac-chac (talk).”
Whether the Indian would really have carried out his threat or not
Ralph had no means of guessing, but he deemed it most prudent under
the circumstances to obey. The Indian smelled most abominably of
liquor, and was evidently in no docile mood. A sort of reckless
deviltry danced in his eyes that warned Ralph not to cross him.
But the next instant, to his unspeakable relief, he heard Jim’s voice
again.
“I’m trying to climb up the rock. I’ll be there in a jiffy. Confound
it, but it’s slippery!”
Of course Ralph could not reply, but the words cheered him. If Jim
would only appear with his rifle maybe he could scare the Bloods off.
In an agony of impatience he waited. Luckily the rain had wetted the
knots so that they were hard to untie and the Blood leader was having a
lot of trouble with them.
Suddenly Ralph heard a sharp cry from the Indian that still remained
on horseback. The one that was bending over the knots heard the
exclamation and glanced up, as did the one that was threatening Ralph.
The boy, too, looked around and soon saw what had alarmed them.
Creeping into the clearing were two immense, tawny forms. The female
cougar had returned with her mate!
The Indians gave a series of sharp cries, and the one that held Ralph
released his hold and ran for his pony. So did the one that had been
bent on stealing the white men’s mounts.
Lashing the ground with their tails the lions began to give utterance
to a sort of whining snarl.
This was answered from within the cave by a chorus of mewings and
squeals from the cubs. The sound of her young appeared to drive the
lioness to fury. She leaped full at the nearest Indian, and landed on
the haunches of his terrified pony.
One of the others snatched a rifle from his saddle and fired at the
animal, but before he could aim properly the male cougar had attacked
him, and the bullet went wild. Evidently the lions thought the Indians
were responsible for keeping them from their cubs.
The rifle was an old, single-barrelled one, and having fired the one
shot the Indian had no chance to reload. But as the bullet sang by her,
the lioness had relaxed her hold on the terrified pony’s haunches and
slipped to the ground to face this new antagonist. Ralph gazed on with
fascinated horror. The scene was unreal, fantastic almost. The three
Indians, an instant before bent on thievery, were now fighting for
their lives against two creatures urged to fury by the most powerful
motive known to the animal kingdom--the love of their young.
“Cheysoyo tamya!” cried the one with the eagle feather, and, urging
their ponies to mad flight, the Indians made off at top speed. The
lions made two or three bounds after them, but then stopped to listen
to the appealing cries of the cubs inside the cave.
They were a badly embarrassed pair of felines. Evidently the manner in
which the cave had been sealed up during their absence was a mystery to
them. They walked about in front of it sniffing, growling and lashing
their tails like gigantic cats in a rage. Dangerous as his position
was, Ralph could not but admire the restless grace of the tawny
creatures with their smooth, yellowish coats and great green savage
eyes.
Suddenly, and without any particular reason that Ralph could see,
although they had undoubtedly smelled him, the two cougars came
bounding toward the alder thicket into which he had crouched back when
first they appeared. Ralph’s heart almost stopped beating as they came.
He looked toward the cave despairingly.
As he gazed he saw Jim’s rugged face appear in the crack above the
rock. The mountaineer took in the scene instantly, and, although he
could not see Ralph, he called to him.
“Come on the rock, boy! I’ll hold them back.”
Ralph saw the muzzle of Jim’s rifle gleam in the afternoon sun as he
thrust it through the crack and sighted with his keen eyes along the
barrel.
Instantly his mind was made up as to what he would do. As the lions
dived into the alders not far from him he dashed out and made for the
rock. In the meantime the tethered ponies were plunging and rearing as
if they would break their ropes. But the lions paid no attention to
them. Apparently they were only seeking those who had invaded their den.
As Ralph made his dart for safety the lions spied him. With crashing
bounds they came out of the underbrush.
Ralph felt a bullet whiz by his ear, but he heard no howl to tell that
one of the lions had been hit. Instead, came Jim’s voice from above.
“Oh, Lord! This plagued rock juts out too far for me to aim down on
’em.”
“Throw me down the rifle, quick!” cried Ralph, an agony in his voice.
He knew he could not clamber up the rock in time to avoid the lions’
claws. His one chance lay in the desperate plan he had formed as Jim’s
exclamation came to his ears.
Jim let the rifle come sliding and clattering down the rock and Ralph
caught it up. The strange noise of the weapon as it came to the ground
after the startling report halted the lions for an instant. But as he
turned to face them Ralph saw that they were all ready for another
attack.
He bravely prepared to meet it, although his pulses throbbed and his
breath came so fast that he could hardly hold the rifle in the proper
position.