THE TRAILING SERPENT
Buckskin Dan walked slowly along the trail toward the store. The day was
young, and the sun was just swinging clear of the far eastern horizon.
It was a cool morning, and the mists of night still hung thick over
river and valley. Dan's chest expanded as he drank into his lungs great
draughts of the fresh, keen air. "It's the only tonic I need," he had
often remarked. "Pills an' tablets an' patent trash may suit some, but
give me the medicine the good Lord sends fresh from the hills an'
mountains. Thar's no p'isin in that, an' it doesn't twist yer stummick
into a groanin' hell wuss than some preachers tell us about."
He found Siwash Bill within the store, looking carefully over his supply
of rifles and shot-guns.
"Mornin', Dan," was the curt salutation.
"Mornin'," came the brief reply. "Any baccy?"
"Plenty," and the squaw man crossed the room and handed out a big black
plug. "What else?"
"Some ca'tridges. I'm 'bout cleaned out."
"Goin' out on the hills to-day, Dan?" queried the storekeeper.
"Guess likely. Saw some big sheep thar t'other day, an' I need them
bad, fer my stock of meat's gittin' low."
"Is the stranger goin' with ye?"
"Mebbe so. 'Cordin' how he feels. Wall, so long, I must be off."
Dan did not notice the interested look in Siwash Bill's face when he
learned that the trapper was bound for the hills. Neither did he see the
squaw man and Windy Pete engaged in an eager conversation in the back
room a few minutes later. He strode forward little realising that his
few words were acting like fire to tow in two cunning minds within the
store.
He reached Old Meg's house, and rapped upon the door. The owner herself
appeared, and stood looking curiously out upon the trapper.
"How's the lassie?" Dan blurted forth. He did not like the expression in
the woman's face, and longed to get through with his errand as soon as
possible.
"What business is it of yours how she is?" was the quick retort.
"Now don't git cranky, woman," Dan replied; "it doesn't work with me."
"Indeed," and Meg gave a sarcastic laugh. "Don't try any of your bluff
game here. It doesn't work with me, either."
"I'm not, woman, an' ye'll soon find it out if ye try any foolin'. If
anythin' happens to the lassie wot lives with ye, beware. Buckskin Dan
isn't in the habit of talkin' simply to hear his own eloquence. I want
to know how the gal is feelin' this mornin'. Will ye tell me? Is it yes
or no?"
The defiant look on Old Meg's face changed to one of concern. She was
becoming uneasy before those steady eyes which seemed to be reading her
inmost soul.
"What does the man know?" she mentally asked herself. "What does he mean
by such words?" She knew of Buckskin Dan, and for him to visit her on
such business was sufficient cause for anxiety. She shifted uneasily
from one foot to the other, and tried to evade his look.
"Is it yes or no? I won't ax ag'in."
"Oh, well, if you must know," she flung forth, "she's all right. It
takes a deal to upset her."
"Ah, is that so? An' the kid, how is he gittin' along?"
"Better. Out in a day or two. Now, are you satisfied?"
With that the woman slammed the door, leaving Dan to his own thoughts.
And those same thoughts were of no light nature which beat through his
brain as he wended his way back to his own house. As he had told Grey
the evening before, he had been trained in the wilderness to use his
eyes and ears, and he might have included his brain, too, for that
matter. He used it now right royally as he moved along the trail. His
head was bent forward, and his long beard swept his breast. Every
movement of his body bespoke a man of action, while his giant stature
denoted strength of no ordinary nature. He was a patriarchal giant of
the wild, where endurance and lustihood mean so much.
A slight sigh of relief at length escaped his lips as if some problem
had been suddenly and unexpectedly solved. He entered his cabin, and a
smile illumined his face as he beheld Grey busily engaged in putting the
room in order.
"What!" he cried. "My mornin's work all done, an' the dishes washed,
too! Ye've left nuthin' fer me, pardner."
"Didn't you say," Grey laughingly replied, "that we have important
business on hand, and that there's no time to lose? I'm still in the
dark as to your meaning, but thought it best to straighten things up
here a bit so as to be ready."
"Ye're right, young man, thar is important bizness on hand. But mebbe ye
won't agree to my plan."
"You lead on, Dan," Grey replied. "You're the Commanding Officer to-day,
and I'll follow you to the death."
"Good!" ejaculated the trapper, as he brought forth the plug of tobacco
from his pocket, and began to whittle off several thin slices. "I've
been thinkin' much since hearin' yer story, an' thar's only one course I
see open."
"And what's that?"
"Git out to the hills after the Hishu bunch of miners. If I kin round
'em up afore they come back and git soaked with Bill's and Meg's
p'isined whiskey mebbe I kin do somethin'. Will ye go with me? We might
run across some game on the way. We'll take a blanket along an' some
grub, fer we'll have to spend the night most likely in the open."
"But will it be well to leave Hishu?" Grey queried. "Something might
happen to the boy in the meantime, and then how should I feel?"
"Not likely, not likely, young man. The boy's all right, an' the lassie,
too, fer I've jist been to inquire."
"What! You were over to the house?"
"Yes; strolled over a little while ago."
"And you say Madeline is all right?"
"Yes, chipper as a young bird."
"Thank God!" fervently broke from Grey's lips. "It's a great relief for
me to know that."
"Yes, she'll do fer a while, an' so will the kid. Nuthin' will happen as
fer as I kin see until he gits stronger, an' we'll be back fer sure by
t'-morrow night at the latest."
"I'll go, then, Dan. But you'll have to loan me a rifle. I left mine
over by the rapids."
"Oh, I'll fix ye up all right. Here's a nice light one. She'll spit fire
like a wildcat if the right man's behind her."
Half an hour later they emerged from the house, closed the door, and
struck a trail, leading in a northeasterly direction away from the
river. Dan bore the blanket slung over his shoulder, while Grey carried
their scanty supply of food. Little did they think that their every
movement was observed from a small window in the store, and that soon
after they had headed for the hills the figure of a man stepped lightly
across the open and glided along after them. Could they have seen the
slinking form keeping so warily out of sight and have read the writing
upon the secret chamber of his heart they would not have felt so secure
as they moved steadily onward.
It was a beautiful fall morning. The air was clear and bracing. Not a
breath of wind stirred the tree tops. Around them stood the mountains,
vested to the girdling timber line with snowy robes of dazzling
whiteness. Nature was limning her annual masterpiece. A few delicate
touches here and there were the only signs of the picture to be
completed a few weeks later, with storms raging over the land, streams
stricken dumb, and the rasping frost-laden air biting like the whitest
of hot iron.
Steadily the two wayfarers sped forward with long, swinging strides.
Occasionally a timid rabbit scurried across the trail, and at times the
whirr of a startled grouse could be heard a short distance away. For
these they paused not. They were forth on a larger quest, for nobler
game.
At noon they rested by a small stream, ate their frugal meal, drank of
the cold sparkling water, and once more hastened onward. For hours they
did not slacken their pace. The sun dipped westward, and the numerous
trees were throwing out dark trailing shadows. But darker and more
sombre still was that silent figure ever shadowing them from behind.
Had they looked back at the right moment they might have caught a
fleeting glimpse of his presence as he dodged from tree to tree, from
rock to rock, or skirted the edge of some wild meadow which they had
just crossed.
Dan and Grey talked but little throughout the day, for the trail was
hard and not conducive to much conversation.
"How much farther?" panted Grey, as they toiled painfully up a steep
incline.
"Not fer now," was the reply. "Gittin' tired?"
"Somewhat. My feet are rather sore from the snags and stones."
"They'll soon heal, pardner, that's one comfort. Now the snags an'
stones ye strike out in civilisation hurt fer a long time. But hello!
What's this?"
Grey looked quickly up at this exclamation of surprise, and beheld a man
coming slowly toward them. He was bent forward, and limped painfully. A
small pack was strapped across his shoulders, and in his right hand he
carried a rifle.
"It's 'Crusty' Ike, I do believe!" Dan exclaimed. "He's one of the
crankiest cusses in the hull region. What in the name of goodness is he
doin' here in sich a condition!"
"Hello, Iky," he shouted as they drew near. "What's wrong with ye? Are
ye lost, or bughouse?"
The man addressed lifted his eyes and fixed them upon the trapper's face
in a mute appeal, but made no reply.
"What's wrong with ye? Why don't ye speak?" insisted Dan.
"Sprained ankle--left behind," came the curt rejoinder.
"Is that so? Too bad, old chap. But yer headin' the wrong way. Ye'd
better face about an' hike it into camp."
"No, no!" cried the other most vehemently. "I can't go back! The gold's
over there! Jim Stebbins found it. He brought us word. This confounded
sprain kept me back. But I'll get there. By God! I'll stake my claim
yet! The boys won't get it all."
"But, man alive," replied Dan, "ye're not fit to travel. Ye'll fall on
the trail. Ye'll starve. How fer are the others ahead? When did ye
start?"
"This morning, and the boys are hiking like the devil."
The trapper stroked his long beard meditatively. He knew what a stampede
meant, and the wild excitement which always ensued. No doubt the
stampeders would return in a few days, find "Crusty" and take him back
with them. He must let this man do the work he intended to do himself.
"Iky, set down a bit," he demanded. "'Twill do ye good. Thar's somethin'
I want to tell ye. I won't keep ye long."
Somewhat reluctantly the lame man seated himself by the side of the
trail, unslung his pack, and laid his rifle by his side.
"Fire away, then," he grunted, "and don't be long about it, either."
"Now look here, Iky," Dan began. "I'm mighty glad ye've been knocked out
to-day."
"The devil! Well, that's cool."
"Jist keep yer mouth shet fer a minute an' I'll explain what I mean.
I've known ye fer years, Iky, as a square man, even though ye are cranky
at times. Ye're true to the core, which is more'n I kin say of some I've
run ag'inst. If ye knew of a mean ugly game bein' put up ag'inst some
poor little kid ye would jist explode like a barrel of dynamite,
wouldn't ye?"
"My God! yes. You bet your life I would."
"Wall, then, thar's a poor wee lad at Hishu that's been stole away from
its home by a set of measly skunks."
"Who are they?" demanded Ike, half rising to his feet, while his eyes
blazed with anger. "Tell me the names of the villains, and I'll bring
the boys down to Hishu like greased lightning. D'ye know who they are?"
"Yes, Siwash Bill an' his gang: that's who they are."
"Good Lord! An' did they do that? Let me go. Oh, it's Bill, is it? Steal
a baby from his mother's arms! I had a little lad of my own once, but he
left me long ago. He's always with me in this hell of a land. I can see
his sweet face yet, hear his happy laugh, and feel his small soft hand
in mine. Oh, why was he taken from me when I wanted him so much? If I
had him now I wouldn't be here. I'd be a better man. But for his sake
I'd do anything for someone else's child. Let me go. I'll round up the
boys."
He jumped to his feet, forgetting for the instant his sprained ankle. A
cry escaped his lips and his body writhed with pain.
"I won't go back!" he cried, straightening himself up with an effort.
"Don't delay me any longer."
They watched him as he limped slowly along the trail.
"Poor devil!" exclaimed Dan. "His brain's half turned by that lust of
gold, an' now wot I've told him has made him completely daft. But it
can't be helped. Guess we'd better turn down into that next valley.
Thar's a small stream yonder among some heavy timber, whar we kin spend
the night. In the mornin' we'll go to the high hills fer some sheep, an'
then hike back to Hishu. I've had quite uneasy thoughts all day about
the lassie an' the poor little lad. Let's git on, pardner."