THE PHANTOM RIDER!
Five minutes later the little party was on the move again.
About the middle of the afternoon they halted for a moment’s
consultation. Darke was not surprised when the scout informed him that
the Indian encampment was not more than a half-dozen miles distant. He
had long been anxious to reach the village. The suspense was growing to
be almost unendurable to him.
At first, Leander Maybob took little part in the conversation and bent
his gaze anxiously every few minutes upon the horizon in the direction
whence they had come.
“Would you advise a bold charge through the Indian encampment?” asked
Clancy. “Do you think we would be likely to accomplish our object in
that way?”
The scout thought not. The savages might be on the look-out for some
such movement as that, as they would probably expect that an attempt
would be made to rescue Vinnie, in which case they would run great risk
of falling into some trap set for them by the Indians, if they
approached the encampment boldly and in the full glare of the sunlight.
Their party was too small to hazard being taken at so great a
disadvantage. They dared not show themselves openly in the camp of their
enemies. The odds would be too great against them.
“No!” said Wimple, emphatically. “We mustn’t try such a plan as that. It
would be worse than useless! What we do must be done by stratagem.
There’s a steep bluff, only ’tain’t a bluff, neither—thar ain’t no river
under it—jist back of the Injin camp. This hill’s all grown over with
low scrub-oak and other stuff so thick ye can’t see a rod any way. If we
could only git up there and hide till arter dark, and then two or three
of us jist step quietly down and release the prisoners, leaving some one
to have the horses ready to mount at an instant’s warnin’, I think we
could git the gal cl’ar without much blood-lettin’, and maybe the other
prisoners, whoever they are. It’s the best plan I can think of now.”
Darke agreed with the scout that nothing could be done by daylight, but
he was getting very impatient.
“I think,” said the big hunter, “as how ye’re partly right in yer
calkerlations and mayhap partly wrong. I don’t believe as how us four
rushing into the imps’ nest would do much good. We’d be very likely to
git our little lump of lead, every one on us, and that’d be the end on’t
all; but instid o’ climbin’ the hill, if ye’ll jist take the advice of
one who has fit Injins some, and stop in the border of the wood, down
level with the edge of the prairie, and wait and see what happens, I
b’lieve we can do suthin’ as ’ll amount to suthin’. I’ve knowed some of
the best kind of jobs to be did in gittin’ away prisoners from the reds,
jist by watchin’ and takin’ advantage of accidents and the like. If
you’ll all do jist as I say and not git flustered or go to gittin’ away
up there on top of the hill, I’ll promise that every prisoner in the
Indian camp shall be safe before sundown—yes, in less than two hours.
You don’t know what amazin’ helps accidents is sometimes, in sich cases
as this one!”
“Can you do it?” asked Darke, eagerly.
“Yes.”
“What do you mean by accidents?” inquired Pete Wimple. “What d’ye
expect’s goin’ to happen to-day?”
“Thar’s no tellin’ exactly,” replied the big hunter. “A feller can’t
most always tell what is goin’ to take place. But I’m safe in
guaranteein’ thirty or forty of them reds one of the tallest accidents
in a little while—’bout as soon as we can git to their camp—they ever
had any ijee of!”
“Do you expect to kill as many as that?” asked Clancy, in some
wonderment.
“I calkerlate as how, if yer a mind to foller my lead, we can e’en
a’most clean out the nest and git yer gal and the rest of the prisoners
away safe, besides! What do ye say? Shall I go ahead?”
“Yes,” cried all three with one voice. “You shall lead us!”
“I believe you can do what you say!” added Darke. “But remember that a
mistake on our part might prove fatal to Vinnie and the others!”
“There shan’t be no balks or mistakes!” said the giant, in a tone of
assurance, taking his place at the head of the party. “We’ve got to
leave this emigrant road here and take to the left a little. An hour’s
sharp ridin’ ’ll bring us to the Injun camp. Let’s be movin’ on.”
And tightening their reins, the quartette dashed away.
There was a plain trail, left by Ku-nan-gu-no-nah’s band, leading
directly to the encampment of the savages. The little party followed
this for a while at a swift gallop, and then in obedience to a low,
tersely-spoken command from their leader, left it suddenly, and bearing
still further to the left, dashed for a few minutes through the edge of
a broad belt of timber lying along the base of a range of low hills,
halting at last in a chapparal not more than a hundred yards distant
from the Indian village.
“Here we are,” said Leander Maybob, throwing himself off his horse.
“Jist git off yer nags and stretch yerselves a little, while I take a
look outside. Make the most outen your restin’-spell, for I can tell yer
that ye won’t have long to lay idle. I’m expectin’ an accident soon!”
And with these strange words which the three men were assured held more
meaning than they expressed, the giant strode away and disappeared from
view among the shrubbery. In less than five minutes he came back, and
his face showed that the result of his reconnoissance was satisfactory.
“There’ll be an accident soon,” said he.
“How soon?” queried the scout.
“Inside of a quarter of an hour.”
“Will it assist us in any manner?” inquired Darke.
“Yes; it’ll be the makin’ of our job.”
“How?” asked Clancy.
“It’s onsartin,” replied the big hunter. “Accidents is onsartin things;
but this one ’ll be sartin to help us if we’re ready to help ourselves.
I’ve noticed as how the same accident don’t happen twice, any more’n a
boy takes his fust chaw of terbacker twice. ’Tain’t anyways likely this
’ere accident we’ve been waitin’ for ’ll happen more’n onc’t. So we must
be ready to take advantage of it jest at the right minit! Now then, how
many shots have we got altogether?”
“I’ve got a six-shooter and a rifle, both loaded,” said the scout.
“Seven,” said Leander, counting.
“And I’ve got six,” said Clancy.
“Thirteen,” counted the big hunter.
“And I’ve got two revolvers and a rifle,” said the scout.
“Twenty-six,” said the giant, “and I’ve got seven more—thirty-three in
all. If there ain’t any of ’em wasted, we can shoot jist thirty-three
Injuns without stopping to load! Now git on yer horses and stick yer
pistols in yer belts and hold yer rifles ready for instant use. I want
to take one more look-out, and I’ll be with ye in a minit.”
The big hunter’s prompt manner and cool, baffling way of talking had
inspired the three men with the utmost confidence in himself and his
power to bring their enterprise to a successful termination, and they
obeyed his orders implicitly. In a moment they were mounted, their
unerring rifles ready for use at a moment’s warning.
“Are we going to dash into the encampment?” asked Clancy, examining the
lock of his revolver.
“It looks like it,” answered the scout, sententiously.
“What can the accident be?” questioned Darke.
“That’s a riddle!” said Wimple.
“And a hard one to guess!” added the young hunter.
Just then the giant came running through the chapparal, and hastily
seizing his ride, which he had left standing against a tree, threw
himself upon the back of his horse and rode to the head of the little
band of wondering, anxious men.
“Wait a minit!” he half whispered.
There was a moment of dead silence, the four men almost holding their
breath in their suspense.
Then a shriek rung out on the air—a shriek that was half a wail, half a
curse—so weird and so unearthly that for a moment the blood seemed to
stand still in the veins of the three startled men.
“My God! What is that?” cried Darke.
“It’s the accident we’ve bin waitin’ for,” said the big hunter, calmly.
“It’s purty near time for us to take advantage of it. Git ready.”
At that moment there came from the direction of the Indian encampment an
almost deafening report, followed instantly by cries of agony and fear.
“Now’s our time!” cried the big hunter. “Shoot down every red-skin you
see! But don’t harm a hair of Ku-nan-gu-no-nah’s head if you can help
it! Take him alive!!”
As they cleared the chapparal, they saw a sight for which even the
terrible cry of a moment before had not prepared them.
It was a gigantic human skeleton, standing upright on the back of a
milk-white horse that moved with more than the speed of the wind. In the
bony, grisly arms of the Phantom Rider was _Vinnie Darke_!