Steve Leads the Way
Weirdly strange were the shadows cast by the moonlight upon the earth as
the party of miners and hunters turned from the road towards the
mountains. The huge gleaming and silvery orb hung in a cloudless sky,
typical of gorgeous California, and cast her beams from a point behind
the party, so that the shadows of the horses danced in front of the men,
thin, and angular, and misshapen, and stretching so far in advance that
the lines of the horses they rode, actually so pleasant to look upon,
were transfigured and made hideous and absurd. Above these same shadows
were those of the men, jogging this way and that, topped by a sombrero,
and often enough by a sharp-cut shadow, denoting the rifle the man
carried.
"The gun that's got ter do with Tusker," said Steve as Jack trotted
along beside him. "I believe ef it warn't fer men of his breed, and fer
the saloons and the bad spirit that's sold in 'em, thar wouldn't be no
need fer weapons out here, save, in course, fer use agin them Injun
varmints. Fer California ain't free of them altogether, and ef it war,
and we was unarmed, the critters would be pourin' over the ranges in
their thousands, huntin' fer scalps. Boys, jest take a word o' warnin'
from one as has been on games same as this afore. Don't ride in a bunch.
Scatter, and spread yerselves out. Then, ef there's a man 'way up thar
with his gun ter his shoulder, the chances aer he'll miss. Savvy?"
The men did savvy. The band who were riding out to capture the last of
the gang of ruffians who had terrorized that part of the goldfields, and
between them had committed many murders, was composed of individuals
with an abundance of experience. For, as Steve had said earlier on,
California was infested by brigands and ruffians of the worst
description, who preyed upon the miners, and against whom the strictest
measures were necessary. There were constant alarms, gold convoys were
often held up, and not infrequently the sheriff was compelled to call
upon the citizens of some little place to ride with him with the object
of exterminating some of the ruffians. So it happened that there were
always men to be found who had accompanied such expeditions, and who,
therefore, knew what precautions to take, and how necessary it was to
use cunning and care when approaching the enemy.
"Jest wait a bit," cried Steve after a while, when the party had
traversed some three miles of the grass-grown plain and were already on
the foothills. "It ain't so easy ter slide from yer saddle when ye've an
arm in a sling. But I kin do it if the hoss aer still. Now then, mates,
ef one of yer'll lead that hoss I'll shift along on foot and follow the
trail. Thar ain't no difficulty hereabouts, fer a child could see their
marks. But we're comin' ter rocky parts, and then it'll be a conundrum."
Half an hour later the climb had become steeper, though not too much so
for the horses. But what Steve had mentioned had already occurred. They
were on rocky ground, though some herbage appeared amidst the boulders.
But as yet the little scout, his eye fixed upon the trail, went steadily
upward and onward, never hesitating for the particle of a second.
"They know as well as I do thet any chap could follow so far," he said
after a while. "Thar ain't no finding a road free of grass and soft
places hereabouts. But up thar it'll be different. Then we shall have
ter nose round a bit, and even then we're pretty safe ter be bothered."
It was not until they had traversed another mile, and were approaching
very steep ground, that Steve raised his hand, and brought the whole
party to a halt.
"Jest as I expected," he cried, dropping on hands and knees, and
managing to scramble along in spite of his damaged arm. "Them artful
critters rode this far, and then halted ter look around and choose a
safe line. There ain't a blade of grass above us, and, in course,
they've gone right on. But they may ha' turned ter the right or ter the
left, and this here mountain aer long enough ter give 'em shelter and a
hidin' place whichever way they go. Mates, jest stand fer a bit. Thar
may be a trace, and it'd be best not ter override it. Abe, slip outer
yer saddle and take a look round."
It was ten minutes before either of the scouts ventured to speak,
meanwhile the remainder of the party dismounted, and, hitching their
reins over their shoulders, filled their pipes and lit them. Steve and
Abe, often on hands and knees, covered the ground in circles, and seemed
as if they would continue in the same occupation, till of a sudden a cry
came from Abe.
"Helloo!" he shouted. "Jest hop along up here. Here's somethin'."
It proved to be a dark stain on a patch of whitish pebbles, and both he
and Steve pronounced it without a moment's hesitation to be a blood
stain.
"That 'ere Tusker," declared Steve with a grunt. "He was feelin'
queerish, most like, and called a halt. He rolled out of his saddle and
lay jest here till one of his mates come and picked him up. Yer can see
thar was more than one. Them stones is kicked about. This aer a find! I
'low as I war bothered back thar. Them critters seemed ter have clean
slipped off into air."
"Reckon they took this line ter the right," answered Abe, "and I've a
sorter notion that we'll be able ter follow, fer seems ter me as there's
more of them stains. Maybe one of the hosses is hurt, and aer leavin' a
trail as he goes."
In a little while Jack and his friends did indeed have displayed before
them an example which many might take to heart. He and the little band
of pursuers had arrived at a part where, if the enemy were cunning, as
they undoubtedly were, they ought to be able to disappear without
leaving so much as a track, a broken blade of grass, or a hoof-print to
guide those who followed. Yet, with all their caution, a clear trail was
left, though they knew nothing of it. For one of the horses, shot in the
leg perhaps, imprinted a blood-stained hoof every yard of the way they
had followed, making pursuit to men like Steve and Abe a simple matter.
It was an indication of the fact that, while circumstances may for a
while be favourable to evil-doers, sooner or later there comes some
unforeseen event which trips them up.
"I've know'd a thing same as this afore," said Steve. "It war after one
of them Injun raids 'way over them mountains, when the critters had come
out on the warpath without so much as a warnin'. Wall, they killed and
scalped every man, woman, and child as they could drop on, and fired the
settlers' farms over fifty miles. George Trueman, he war a settler, and
it seems he'd been 'way over the border ter see a man as was lookin' ter
buy cattle. He comed back ter find the farm a mass of blackened cinders,
his cattle gone, and the box as he kept his dollars in taken clear away.
Trueman war wild. He war fixed up ter get married, and though he could
put up with the burnin' of the farm, the loss of the money would pretty
nigh ruin him. Yer kin guess what happened."
"Followed the critters, I suppose," suggested Abe.
"Sure. Got a band o' men together, same as we aer, and sets off. Wall, I
war one of the band, and pretty soon I gets on ter a trail like this,
made by a hoss that war wounded, but not so bad as he couldn't go. That
trail ran on fer thirty mile, till you'd have thought the hoss would ha'
fallen dead, and in the end we dropped into them critters, and George
recovered the money."
"While this time we recover the man," laughed Abe. "Jest you hop into
yer saddle agin, Steve. Ye'll ride easy thar, and it don't do that arm
no good walkin' in these rough places. Reckon I kin follow the trail."
Thanks to the spots of blood, sometimes scattered sparsely on the
stones, and at others imprinted in the form of a hoof Abe was able to
stride along without a halt. For an hour he led the party without
turning aside. Then suddenly he faced up the mountain, and began to
clamber.
"Them critters brought their hosses up," he cried over his shoulder, "so
guess yer kin do the same. But the goin' aer bad, and ye'd best be
skeary, and look out fer holes."
The place was, in fact, difficult for horses, and it needed much care on
the part of the riders to take them up such a steep and rough place.
However, it was not long before the ground sloped a little less steeply,
and then became almost flat. Abe led the way across this without a
falter, and very soon Jack became aware of the fact that he and his
friends were actually descending.
"A kinder hollow," explained Steve. "Precious soon things'll be
happenin'."
Scarcely five minutes had elapsed, in fact, before the nerves of these
hardy miners and hunters were somewhat startled by a loud report. A
single shot rang out from some point in advance, and high up above them,
while one of the horses squealed, plunged heavily, and then stood
shivering and shaking.
"Wall, of all the critters!" cried one of the miners, slipping from the
injured animal's back. "I didn't think as a man could see us down here
in the hollow, let alone train a gun on us. Reckon it war lucky we war
all spread out. Gently, lass. Yer ain't badly hurt. This here aer no
wuss than a pinprick. The ball catched her two inches from her withers,
on the very edge of the neck. It ain't worth mentionin', old gal."
He patted his mount soothingly, and soon had her in a happier frame of
mind. Then, dropping the reins on her neck, he left her to herself, and
within less than half a minute she was seeking for grass tufts amongst
the boulders. Meanwhile the other men had dismounted, while Steve and
Abe discussed matters with the sheriff.
Bang! From a point some seventy yards above the heads of the party, and
a considerable distance away, there rang out another report, while a
splotch of flame leaped from the mountain side. But it was gone in a
moment; and when Jack fixed his eyes in that direction it was to see
merely brown rocks and boulders tumbled haphazard on the mountain side,
and all bathed in the rays of the moon, rays which gave a ghostly, eerie
appearance to the surroundings. As for the bullet which had been
discharged, it hummed through the air, striking a rock at our hero's
feet with a resounding clang, and afterwards glissading off into space,
where the ricochetting object set up a piercing scream that added to the
uncanny effect produced by the moonbeams.
"And no one hurt. That's luck!" sang out the sheriff. "Now, gentlemen,
it aer clear that them fellers way up thar ha' got the drop on us. Down
here the moon throws our shadows, and, even ef they can't see us, a
shadow is close enough ter aim at, and is bound to bring a bullet
precious near before long. Leave the hosses and make fer the hill. Thar
ain't no use waitin'."
"None," agreed Steve promptly. "Ef we stay down here, sooner or later,
as Mr. Sheriff says, some of us'll be gettin' in the way of a bullet,
and that ain't sense. But, seems to me, we might spare three or four who
aer good shots ter lie down amongst these boulders and give them
critters a shot whenever they show whar they aer located. Thet'll keep
'em from payin' us too much attention."
The trusty little scout was not the one to neglect or to forget a
precaution at such a moment, and his advice was hailed with eagerness.
It was dangerous work this pursuit of criminals, and more often than not
men were killed; for the rascals who infested the goldfields knew what
capture meant. It ended, in nearly every instance, in a hasty trial and
summary execution. Consequently there was no thought of giving in. The
contest was always one almost to the death.
"Supposin' Steve stays right here," sang out Abe. "He ain't no good fer
climbing with that arm of his, and, sence it's his left, he'll be able
ter hold a gun with his right and rest it on a boulder. Lively does it,
mates. Ef we stay jawin', them critters'll soon be gettin' the range of
some of us."
As he finished speaking, as if to impress his words upon the band of
pursuers, four shots rang out from the mountain side above them, and
again was heard the thud of bullets, while splinters of stone were
scattered broadcast.
"Wall, get to it, Steve," called out the sheriff, "and you too, Bill
Hendy and Frank Gorman. Let 'em see as you know how ter pepper 'em with
lead, and keep at it with your guns till we're pretty close and handy.
Thar ain't any fear of your shootin' into us, 'cos the moon's that
bright yer can see easy. So long! Make it hot for them scoundrels."
Promptly Steve and the two men detailed for the work dropped on their
faces amidst the boulders, and, each selecting a large rock which was
high enough to give him shelter from bullets fired from above, proceeded
to unsling his rifle. Nor was it long before the opportunity came to
them to fire. Once more the same red splotch of flame spurted from the
mountain side. It was answered almost instantly by three shots from
below, and within the space of half a minute by an echoing scream from
above. Then a dark, ill-defined figure started up from the mountain
side, and for a moment a man stood erect, his shadow cast on the brown
earth and rocks behind him. One arm was raised above his head, and the
rays of the moon showed that the hand gripped a rifle. Thus he stood for
a few seconds, as if staring down into the hollow where Steve and his
mates lay. Then, pitching forward suddenly, he fell headlong, bringing
an avalanche of smaller stones and boulders chasing after him.
"Fetched him," said Steve coolly. "Thar ain't no sayin' whose shot it
war. Reckon me and these two mates of mine ha' had occasion to fire in
similar sarcumstances afore. I give him a range jest a foot below the
flame of his rifle, and I guess it fetched him. Ah! There's another of
them."
One after another the shots rang out from the mountain side, while Steve
and his friends replied as rapidly as they could. While they did so,
Jack and the others raced from the hollow and, using hands and feet,
clambered up the steep slope. Not a sound came from their ranks, for all
their breath was required for the task before them. They never paused to
look above them, nor noticed when the defenders of the position stood
out from their lair and discharged their rifles at them. They clambered
steadily and quickly upward, leaving the three friends below to look to
their defence, and to pour in such a fire that the rascals would not
dare to expose themselves.
"There they are! Close in on them!"
In his eagerness to come upon the ruffianly Tusker Joe, and capture him,
Jack forged ahead of the others. He was younger than they and more
agile, and, without being aware of the fact, had rapidly outstripped
them. And now he suddenly came upon the lurking place of the enemy.
Clambering round a boulder of unusual proportions, he came to a level
spot, a narrow pathway which ran on either hand till it was lost on the
face of the steep slope. Here, some six yards to his left, four men were
crouching, one of them being in the act of firing down at the hollow as
he looked.
"Rush them! Down with them!" Jack shouted. "But don't shoot Tusker."
Careless of the consequences, blinded to his own danger by the
excitement of the moment, and urged to strenuous exertion by the
ever-present thought that here, almost in his own hands, was the
evidence for which he sought, Jack raced along the ledge, dashed into
the centre of the group of men, and became engaged at once in a
desperate struggle. A man seemed to rise up before him, and in a moment
they were locked together in an embrace which nothing but the death or
disablement of one or other would terminate. They stood on the very edge
of the ledge, the steep slope running away precipitously below them, and
swayed to and fro, swayed so far over the edge that it looked as if they
must lose their footing and fall.
As they staggered this way and that, others of the gang of desperadoes
clubbed their rifles and made every effort to bring the butts crashing
on to Jack's head. But always some frantic twist or turn of the
combatants, some violent change of position on his part, upset their aim
and caused them to fail in their object.
Meanwhile Steve and his two friends below had ceased firing, and stood
watching the contest with staring eyes. For the little scout the moments
dragged heavily. The struggle he witnessed up there on the mountain side
was more than momentous. It stirred him to the deepest depths, for he
had more than a friendly feeling for our hero.
"Back him up!" he bellowed, placing his hands to his mouth. "Can't yer
see we can't help him. Git to and rush them, or they'll kill him. Gosh!
Ef only I war there. I'd----"
He came to a sudden stop and stood rooted to the spot, his heart in his
mouth, a sudden and unusual feeling of depression about him. For help
had not yet reached our hero. The brilliant rays of the moon showed the
other members of the band of pursuers almost within reach of the ledge,
but not quite there. It showed also the figures of five men struggling
furiously on the mountain side, and one of those from his height and
build was undoubtedly our hero. The mob of men seemed to be thrusting
him from the ledge, and as Steve stared he saw Jack striking out
valiantly with his fists, for the man who had gripped him had suddenly
let go his hold. Then there was a shout, and one of the rascals
attacking him leaped forward and wound his arms round Jack's body.
Steve shut his eyes and shuddered.
"Gone," he thought. "They'll throw him down."
But no. When he looked again the position of affairs had not altered.
Jack was there, on the very edge of the ledge, staggering to and fro in
the arms of the ruffian who had gripped him. While the others had of a
sudden turned their attention to the pursuers who were now within
striking distance. There came on a sudden the sharp, distinctive snap of
a pistol, and then a shout from Steve which awoke the echoes. For Jack
had disappeared. A second before he and his antagonist had been poised
on the edge of the ledge. Now they were gone, there came only the
clatter and rattle of boulders and stones which came rolling and leaping
down the mountain side.
"Killed!" groaned Steve. "Thar ain't a doubt but that they've done for
him."
"Not they. Jest let's go and look for him," sang out Bill Hendy. "I've
knowed a man fall heavier and farther by far than that, and have nary a
scratch ter show fer it. 'Sides, he's young, and young bones take a deal
of breakin'. He warn't shot, that I'll swear. It war the sheriff's shot
as ended the struggle."
His mind full of doubt and misgiving, and yet, with his accustomed
courage, still hopeful that Jack would prove to have escaped, Steve led
the way up the mountain side till he reached a spot some forty feet
below the ledge on which the brigands had taken refuge. And there they
found our hero, wedged in between two boulders, breathing very
shallowly, and quite unconscious. Beneath him lay the body of the man
who had held him so firmly in his embrace.
"Dead?" asked Steve, hardly daring to ask or to touch our hero.
"No more nor you nor me," came the hearty answer. "Jest knocked silly,
which ain't ter be wondered at, seein' as he's fell nigh fifty feet.
Reckon this here fellow saved the fall for him. He's dead. Dead as
mutton."
"Not a bone broken, or I am much mistaken," exclaimed Steve, running his
hands over Jack's limbs, for in his eagerness and anxiety the little
scout had slipped his wounded arm from the sling. "Stunned. Then he'll
take no harm. He'll sleep well to-night, and to-morrow he'll eat as good
a breakfast as ever he did. Wall, mates, what's the tale?"
The contest was entirely over by now, and, within five feet of the spot
where Jack lay, one of the miners was seated on a rock stolidly smoking,
while a companion bandaged up an ugly wound in his thigh.
"Jest a snap shot, like," he explained pleasantly to Steve as he sucked
at his pipe. "Thought he was downed and done fer. But he warn't, the
critter! He sits up sudden and let's fly, then dropped back as dead as
t'others."
"Then you finished 'em?" asked Steve.
"There was five beside Tusker Joe," explained the sheriff, coming up at
the moment. "I got in a shot at the man who had collared young Jack, and
I dessay you saw 'em both come tumbling. Then two more was shot and
wounded afore yer could count the seconds. But they got clear away in
the scuffle. A fourth fell to a ball fired from one of you three as we
was mounting the hill, while the fifth got hit by a ricochet. Anyway,
when we arrived, there he war lyin' insensible beside Tusker."
"And him? He's dead too?" asked Steve, anxiety in his voice.
"Jest livin'. Played out after ridin' so far after sich a wound. He'll
go ef we ain't careful."
"And with his life all chance of Jack gettin' his evidence," cried
Steve. "See here, Sheriff, it means a hull lot fer this young friend of
mine, and seein' what's happened I feel I kin count on you and the other
mates ter help. We'll send along fer a surgeon, and meanwhile rig up a
cover fer Tusker and the other man. Ef tryin'll do it, we'll save the
man who killed Jack's father and then led the young chap hisself into
sech a scrape. I can kinder count on you?"
"Yer kin," was the emphatic answer. "You and your special mates have
saved us a hull heap. Tusker and his gang were a real terror, and we and
other folks are grateful. In course we'll stay. As soon as the mornin'
comes we'll fix up a shanty, and meanwhile I'll send one of the men back
to the settlement."
They were a practical lot, those miners and scouts, and in a little
while one of them was speeding from the spot mounted on the best horse
and leading another. Meanwhile Jack was laid on some piled-up blankets,
where he quickly recovered consciousness, for he was merely stunned by
the fall.
"You aer jest ter lie thar as ef you was properly dead," smiled Steve.
"That'll bring yer round sooner than anything. Thar's some coffee in my
haversack, and in a while, when thar's been time to get a fire goin',
we'll brew some of it extry strong. It'll clear yer head. A good sound
sleep after that aer all that's wanted."
The little scout had picked up a fund of information in a practical
school. His was the class of knowledge which, combined with a vast
amount of experience and with common sense beyond the ordinary, is of
real service in such cases as Jack's. It was not with him a little
dangerous knowledge, as is sometimes the case.
"We aer got ter be particular careful with this here Tusker," he said,
when Jack was securely tucked in his blanket. "His life are more
valuable I guess than even Jack's, and thet's sayin' something, fer the
lad thar aer a bright one. Let's jest have a look at the man."
They carried the wounded and unconscious robber into the shadow cast by
a rock, and there Steve carefully inspected his wound.
"Plumb in the chest," he said, as he opened the shirt, and rolled Tusker
over. "It aer clear that the bullet has broke through into the lung, and
as fer as I can see it don't make much odds whether it's gone right
through or remained inside. But we'll make sure."
By dint of the greatest care he and the man who was helping him rolled
Tusker over still farther, only to discover that the ball which had
struck him in the chest had wounded the lung, but had failed to emerge.
It seemed, indeed, at first sight, as if there was little left for such
inexperienced surgeons to do save to place the man in a comfortable
position, shield him from the sun, and await his return to
consciousness. But Steve was a knowing little fellow.
"I tell yer his life's extry valuable," he said, standing up beside his
patient, "and we are got to move ef we want to save it. Not that he aer
likely ter pull through. Reckon this aer Tusker's last call. Now, mate,
lend a hand. We'll put some sort of a dressing on the wound, and then,
seeing as he's still losing blood, we'll have ter make shift ter stop
it. Yer see, it ain't the bleeding from the outside wound that matters.
It's what's coming from the lung."
This important fact had not escaped Steve and his comrade. There was a
deathly pallor about the robber chief which showed that he was
desperately hurt, and that the hæmorrhage had already been severe. Then,
too, the corners of his mouth were discoloured, while a few red drops
hung on his chin.
"It stands ter reason," said Steve, speaking as if he were arguing the
matter out with himself, "that nature aer doing her best ter help
Tusker. He aer scarcely breathing, fer the simple reason thet ef he was
moving his chest same as you and me, and with it his lung, why the
movement of the one that's wounded would make the loss of blood even
wuss. Thet bein' so, we'll take a lesson from nature. Lend a hand.
Reckon we'll roll him on ter the side that's damaged. The weight of his
body will hold the ribs still, and so rest the wounded lung."
Very carefully and tenderly did they set to work. An old but clean piece
of linen was folded to form a dressing, and was saturated with clean,
cold water. This was firmly secured to the wound in the chest by another
strip of linen. Then a long pad was made with the help of a
handkerchief, and some soft grass, and, having laid their pad over the
dressing and its bandage, and round the chest, Steve cleverly passed a
saddle girth under his patient, brought it round over the pad, and
pulled it taut, till it seemed that he would arrest all movement of the
ribs. Then the patient was gently rolled on to his wounded side again.
"Thet aer takin' a lesson from Mother Nature," said Steve, surveying
Tusker with some satisfaction. "He is still losing blood from the lung,
as you kin see from what's coming from his lips. But that 'ere girth,
and layin' him on his side, will quieten the movements of his chest, and
jest give him a chance. Gee! I never worked harder to save a man. I feel
as anxious about him as ef he war my father, and, I kin tell yer, it
means a hull heap ter young Jack thar ef Tusker pulls round."
No two nurses could have tended a patient with greater care and devotion
than Steve and his fellow worker showed. They sat down in turn beside
Tusker Joe, moistening his lips with water every now and again, whisking
the flies away when they would have settled on his face, and holding
themselves always in readiness to turn him if the position in which he
was placed should appear to be harmful. But it quickly became apparent
that Steve's common sense and his most valuable habit of close
observation were to be rewarded. Nature, indeed, responded to the
treatment, and before long it was clear that Tusker's condition, though
still desperate, was slightly improved. The pallor of his face was not
now so marked, while there was little if any bleeding from the lung.
"He ain't likely ter die of loss of blood now, I reckon," said Steve,
surveying him critically. "It aer the shock of the wound that's going
ter kill Tusker. Jest set down beside him, mate, while I have a look at
Jack."
Late that evening the man who had ridden off to the settlement with a
note from the sheriff returned, and with him a young surgeon. By then
Jack had awakened, and, but for a slight headache and a good deal of
stiffness, was himself again. Therefore there was no need for him to
have attention. The surgeon at once went to Tusker's side, and for half
an hour devoted all his skill to him.
"If he lives I shall be surprised," he said at last, when he had done
all that was possible. "I calculate that the ball was travelling in such
a direction that it must have perforated the upper part of the lung--a
part, in fact, of vital importance, seeing the size of the vessels
there. In any case, the man who looked to him at first and bandaged him
deserves a medal. It was the only treatment to adopt. I couldn't have
done more myself. You can see for yourselves that, beyond replacing the
dressing with one of suitable material, I have made no alteration."
Steve went red at such commendation. "Yer don't live out on the plains
fer nothing, mister," he growled. "Still, I'm glad we did the right
thing."
"You can take my word for it that you did," was the hearty answer. "All
that I can suggest now refers to nourishment and covering."
The night which followed was an anxious one in the camp. Jack could
scarcely sleep for worrying, while Steve was on his feet continually,
hovering about the wounded man; for it was by no means certain that
Tusker would live even long enough to regain consciousness, and, if he
were to regain his senses, who could say whether he could or would
provide that evidence which was of such vital importance to Jack, and
alone could clear him of the accusation for which he had been tried, and
so nearly imprisoned. It was yet to be seen if our hero would ever clear
his name, or be able to return to Hopeville in safety, and there prove,
beyond a question of doubt, that he was entirely guiltless.