"No. Never speak twice. Apaches do what think best."
"Ugh! Good. Young braves, bring out Lipans. No wait. Kill them all right
away."
Prisoners such as these were likely to be a troublesome burden to a
party on the march, like that of Many Bears, and the only real question
before the council was, after all, in what precise manner the killing
should be done.
But while they were talking a great cry arose from the vicinity of the
lodge where the Lipans had been shut up--a cry of surprise, anger, and
disappointment. And then the word spread over the whole camp like
wild-fire, "The Lipans are gone!"
It was almost beyond belief, and there was a general rush toward the row
of lodges and beyond them, into the bushes and through the corral. It
came very near stampeding every pony there, and every trace of anything
like a "trail" left by the feet of Two Knives and his warriors was
quickly trampled out. The only "sign" found by anybody was in the shape
of more than a dozen thongs of buckskin lying on the ground in the
lodge, all clean cut through with a sharp knife. That told plainly how
the prisoners had escaped. The braves who had searched and tied them
were positive that not one of them retained a knife, or was left in a
condition to make any use of one. They must have had help from somebody,
but it was a great mystery who that somebody could be. Suspicion might
have fallen upon Murray and Steve, but it was well known that the latter
had remained in his lodge, refusing even to look at the prisoners, while
Send Warning had been in council with the chiefs. They believed they
knew where he had been all the while, and none of them imagined that Two
Knives had been set free before he had lain in that "prison lodge" three
minutes. It was a terrible mortification; but something must be done,
and again Murray was asked for advice.
"What do I think? Let me ask you a question. Did the Lipans go away on
foot?"
"Ugh! No. Take good horse."
"Did they have any arms? Gun? lance? bow?"
"Ugh! No. Think not."
"They are cunning warriors. Did they ride out among your young men? Send
Warning says they would do just what great Apache chief would do."
"Ugh! Good. Pale-face chief very wise. Lipans go all way round. Like
snake. Only one thing for us to do. Catch 'em when they come to pass."
"Better ride now," said Murray. "Send Warning and Knotted Cord will ride
with Apache braves. No time lose. Want fresh horse."
He afterward explained to Steve that a little seeming activity on their
part was needful at that moment of excitement, lest anything unpleasant
should be said about them. Besides, he had no fear of any further
collision with the Lipans. The night was too far gone for that, and he
had great confidence in the courage and skill of old Two Knives.
In less than twenty minutes after he had given his advice, he and Steve
Harrison, mounted on fresh mustangs chosen for them from the corral by
Red Wolf himself, were riding across the ford at the head of a strong
squad of Apache warriors, commanded by a chief of well-known skill and
prowess.
"They will pick up plenty more on the way, Steve, but they won't have
much to do."
"No danger of their catching old Two Knives?"
"Not a bit. I'll tell you all about it some other time."
"I've something to tell you, Murray; I can't keep it."
"Out with it, my boy."
"That white daughter of old Many Bears can speak English. She understood
what I said, and answered me."
It was dark, or Steve would have seen that the face of his friend grew
as white as his hair, and then flushed and brightened with a great and
sudden light.
For a moment he was silent, and then he said, in a deep, husky voice,
"Don't say any more about it to me, Steve. Not till I speak to you
again. I'm in an awful state of mind to-night."
Steve had somehow made up his mind to that already, but he was saved the
necessity of saying anything in reply.
Red Wolf rode closer to him at the moment, and said,
"Knotted Cord is young. Been on war-path before?"
"Say yes, Steve," muttered Murray.
"Yes, I'm young. Seen a good deal, though. Many war-paths."
"What tribe strike?"
"Lipans, Comanches, Mexicans. Followed some Pawnees once. They got
away."
Red Wolf's whole manner told of the respect he felt for a young brave
who had already been out against the fiercest warriors of the Indian
country. He would have given a good many ponies to have been able to say
as much for himself.
* * * * *
The position chosen by the Lipans was a strong one, and the scattered
shots which now and then came from the mouth of the pass told that the
beaten warriors of To-la-go-to-de were wide awake and ready to defend
themselves.
But for one thing that end of the pass would have been already vacant.
The pride of the Lipans forbade their running further without at least
an effort to learn what had become of their chief. They felt that they
could never look their squaws in the face again unless they could
explain that point.
To be sure, it was almost a hopeless case, and the Apaches would be upon
them in the morning, but they waited.
Everything seemed to be growing darker, and the outlying Lipan sentinels
were not in any fault that four men on horseback should get so near them
undiscovered. It was very near, and the new-comers must have known there
was danger in it, for one of them suddenly put his hand to his mouth and
uttered a fierce, half-triumphant war-whoop. It was the well-known
battle cry of To-la-go-to-de himself, and it was answered by a storm of
exulting shouts from the warriors among the rocks. Their chief had
escaped!
That was true, and it was a grand thing, but he had brought back with
him only three men of his "front rank."
The Apaches could hear the whooping, and the foremost of them deemed it
wise to fall back a little. Whatever their enemies might be up to, they
were men to be watched with prudence as well as courage.
The words of To-la-go-to-de when he joined his friends were few. There
was no further account to be made of Captain Skinner and his miners, he
told them. They were cunning, and they had taken care of themselves. It
had been well to plunder their camp. He himself owed his safety to their
old friend No Tongue, and the Lipans must never forget him. The Yellow
Head had probably been killed, and they would not see him again. They
must now gather all their horses and other plunder, and push their
retreat as far as possible before morning. Some other time they would
come and strike the Apaches, but it was "bad medicine" for them just
now.
Whatever else that may have meant, according to Indian superstition,
every warrior could understand that their losses had weakened them too
much to think of fighting another hard battle. It was no disgrace to
make a great deal of haste under such circumstances, and so, if Red Wolf
and the rest had been near enough at that hour, they would have seen Two
Knives and what was left of his band riding steadily on, deeper and
deeper in among the mountains.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]