A STRANGE STORY.
“Now,” said Archie, when he had seen Uncle James ride off toward San
Diego, “what’s to be done? It’s dreadful slow hanging around the house
all the while, and I propose that we visit that bear trap. We might
repair it, you know, and perhaps we can make it strong enough to hold
Old Davy the next time he gets into it.”
As no objections were raised to this proposition, the boys strolled
slowly toward the stable, where Mr. Winters now kept all his fine
riding stock, it being unsafe to allow the animals to run at large.
There was no danger that the robbers would get any more horses out of
that stable, for Dick Lewis and old Bob Kelly had taken up their
quarters there. Archie thought it would have been a good thing for him
and Frank, if this precaution had been adopted a few days before.
The stable was full of horses, but Frank and Archie could not find any
to suit them. While Johnny and Dick were saddling their nags, the
cousins, with their bridles in their hands, walked slowly up and down
the floor, critically examining the twenty sleek, well-kept animals
which were standing quietly in their respective stalls; but they
measured every thing by Roderick and King James now, and none of their
uncle’s horses were good enough for them.
“I believe I won’t go, fellows,” said Archie, at length. “I have a
good mind to say that I will never leave the rancho again, until I get
my horse back. Will you agree to that, Frank, if I will?”
“No, sir!” replied his cousin, quickly. “I can’t see the use of
hurting my nose to spite my face. I am going on that expedition with
Captain Porter this winter, if I have to ride a mule.”
“Well, it beats me that there is no one here who can catch those
robbers,” said Archie, bitterly. “Dick Lewis, I have lost all faith in
you.”
The trapper was seated on a bench beside the door, busy at work on a
new hunting shirt, which, like all the rest of his garments, was
gaudily ornamented with beads and bright-colored pieces of cloth. He
smiled good-naturedly at Archie, but made no reply.
“I built my hopes high upon you,” continued the latter. “You have
spent your life on the frontier; fought all through the Mexican war;
have shot dozens of grizzly bears and Indians; been in numberless
scrapes with all sorts of desperate characters, and yet you allow Old
Davy to invade the rancho every night, and walk off with some of
uncle’s best stock, and permit a band of horse-thieves to settle down
here in our very midst, and carry on their trade without a word of
protest. What do you mean by it?”
“We have done all we could, little ’un--me an’ old Bob have,” replied
the trapper. “But don’t you know that thar are things movin’ around us
all the while, that no livin’ man can’t foller, ’cause they don’t
leave no trail?”
“Of course there are,” said Johnny. “Birds, for instance.”
“But the birds didn’t steal my horse,” exclaimed Archie.
“I aint sayin’ they did,” returned Dick. “I know well enough that your
hosses were stole by men, ’cause I seed the prints of their feet in
front of this yere very door. I know which way they went, too, fur me
an’ old Bob tracked em.”
“You did?” cried Frank. “Then why didn’t you follow them up, and catch
them?”
“’Cause we couldn’t; that’s the reason. It’s a leetle the queerest
thing I ever hearn tell on.”
“What is?” asked all the boys in a breath. They began to get
interested and excited now, for the trapper’s mysterious manner
indicated that he had some great secret to communicate.
“I haint sartin that I had oughter say any thing about it,” replied
Dick. “It’s something I can’t begin to see through, an’ that’s the
reason I haint told your uncle of it. You ’member when Mr. Winters
lost them two hosses of his’n, don’t you? Wal, the next mornin’ me an’
ole Bob tracked ’em nigh onto five miles, an’ finally lost their trail
about a hundred yards from the creek that flows on this side of Don
Carlos’ rancho. Thar war the prints of their hoofs in the soft ’arth,
as plain as bar’s ears, an’ thar the trail ended. Now, where did them
two hosses go to? That’s what I want to know.”
“Perhaps they turned up or down the creek to find a ford,” said Frank.
“They couldn’t have done that without leavin’ a trail, could they? It
was a good hundred yards to the creek, as I told you, an’ me an’ Bob
sarched every inch of the ground, but couldn’t find the print of a
single hoof.”
“The robbers may have doubled on their trail, for the purpose of
throwing you off the scent,” suggested Johnny.
“I don’t reckon that men who have hunted wild Injuns an’ varmints as
long as me an’ Bob have, could be fooled by sich a trick as that ar’,”
replied the trapper. “I have since found out all about it, youngsters.
Them hosses didn’t make no more trail; that’s the reason we couldn’t
foller ’em.”
“Then, of course, they didn’t go any farther,” said Dick Thomas.
“Yes, they did. They went acrost that creek, an’ into Don Carlos’
rancho, an’ never touched the ground, nor the water either.”
“Into Don Carlos’ rancho!” repeated Archie in great astonishment.
“And never touched the ground!” echoed Johnny. “Were they carried
over?”
“Sartinly not. They walked.”
“How could two solid flesh-and-blood horses walk a hundred yards
without stepping on the ground?” asked Frank.
“They could step on something else, couldn’t they? _They walked on
clouds!_”
As the trapper said this, he settled back on the bench, and looked at
the boys, to observe the effect this astounding announcement would
have upon them. He expected them to be greatly amazed, and they
certainly were. Any four boys in the world would have been amazed to
hear such a declaration fall from the lips of a man whom they knew to
be strictly truthful, and who, moreover, was not jesting, but speaking
in sober earnest. They looked at the trapper a moment, and then at one
another, and finally Johnny and Dick Thomas burst into a loud laugh;
while the cousins, who were better acquainted with their old friend,
thrust their hands deep into their pockets with an air which said
plainly that they did not understand the matter at all, and waited
patiently for him to explain.
“You may believe it or not,” said Dick, “but it’s a fact, ’cause ole
Bob seed it with his own eyes. He watched the hul thing from beginning
to end, and it well-nigh skeered him to death.”
“What did he see?” asked Frank, growing more and more bewildered. “I
didn’t suppose that Bob was afraid of any living thing.”
“Nor he aint, nuther,” returned the trapper, quickly. “But show him
something that can’t be hurt by a rifle-ball, an’ he’ll take to his
heels as quick as any body. As I was sayin’, the trail of them two
hosses ended thar on the bank of that creek, an’ we couldn’t find it
ag’in. Me an’ ole Bob puzzled our heads over it fur a long time, an’
we finally made up our minds that that ar’ old Spaniard, Don Carlos,
could tell us all about the matter if he was a mind to, an’ Bob said
that we would go back the next night, an’ watch his rancho. Wal, when
the next night come, we couldn’t both go, ’cause your uncle said he
wanted one of us to keep an eye on the stables: so I stayed at home,
an’ ole Bob went alone. He was gone about three hours, an’ when he
come back I seed a sight I never seed afore, an’ one I never expect to
see ag’in. Ole Bob’s face was as white as a Sunday shirt, an’ he was
shakin’ all over like a man with the ager.”
“What had he seen?” repeated Frank, who was impatient to get at the
bottom of the mystery.
“Easy, easy, youngster, I’m comin’ to that,” replied Dick. “Now, I’ve
knowed ole Bob ever since I was knee-high to a duck, an’ I’ve been
with him in more ’n a hundred fights with Injuns, an’ Greasers, an’
varmints--sometimes, too, when we jest did get away with our ha’r, an’
that was all--but I never seed him skeered afore. It made me feel
kinder funny, I tell you, ’cause I knowed that thar had been something
onnatural goin’ on; an’ I aint ashamed to say that I looked all around
this yere stable, to make sure that me an’ him were alone. The ole
feller didn’t say any thing, till he had filled his pipe an’ smoked it
about half out; an’ then he told me what he had seed. ‘Dick,’ says he,
‘thar’s been awful things agoin’ on about that ar’ old Greaser’s
rancho, an’ if I hadn’t seed it all with my own two eyes, I shouldn’t
believe it. I went down thar where we lost the trail last night, an’
arter hidin’ my hoss in the bushes, tuk up a position from which I
could watch both sides of the creek. I knowed that Don Carlos had gone
to bed, ’cause thar was no light about the rancho, an’ the doors an’
winder-shutters were all closed. I hadn’t been thar in the bushes
long, afore I heered the trampin’ of hosses; but it stopped all of a
sudden, an’ fur the next five minutes I lay thar on the ground
listenin,’ an’ peepin’ through the trees, tryin’ to get a sight at the
fellers. But I couldn’t see ’em, an’ finally I begun to crawl up
closer.
“‘Now, the last time I looked at the rancho, it was dark an’ still,
an’ thar wasn’t a sign of a human bein’ about it; an’ durin’ the two
minutes I was crawlin’ t’wards them hossmen, thar wasn’t even the
rustlin’ of a leaf to tell me that thar was any thing goin’ on. But
sich fellers as them that live in that rancho don’t make no noise
about their work. They had done a good deal in them two minutes; an’
when I looked acrost the creek ag’in, I knowed how it come that we had
lost the trail of them hosses. I seed enough to skeer me wuss nor I
was ever skeered afore, an’ if I could have got up from the ground, I
should have made tracks from thar sudden: but, Dick, I couldn’t
move--something held me fast.
“‘I told you that the last time I looked t’wards the rancho it was all
dark, didn’t I? Wal, it wasn’t so now. The walls of the buildin’, an’
the bank of the creek, were lighted up by streaks of fire; an’ where
they come from I couldn’t tell. Howsomever, I didn’t think much about
that, fur I seed somethin’ else that made my ole ’coon-skin cap raise
up on my head. It was a _bridge of clouds_, which ran from the wall of
the buildin’ down to the water’s edge. Mebbe you won’t believe that,
Dick, but I seed it with my own eyes. Them streaks of fire, that come
from the rancho, lighted up every thing fur a hundred yards around;
an’ I could see the clouds a rollin’ an’ tumblin’ like the smoke from
the mouth of a cannon. More ’n that, thar was a small flatboat in the
creek, which I hadn’t seed thar afore, an’ on it were four hosses an’
three men. Two of the hosses were Roderick and King Jeems. Each one
had a feller on his back, an’ each feller was holdin’ another hoss by
the bridle.
“‘By the time I had noted these things the boat begun to move, an’
then I seed something else that skeered me. That ar’ boat, Dick, was
rowed acrost that creek without hands. It’s a fact, ’cause I seed it.
I rubbed my eyes to make sure that I wasn’t dreamin’, but thar wasn’t
no mistake about it. Them two fellers sot thar on their hosses,
without layin’ a finger on an oar or paddle, the other stood in the
starn, with his hands in his pockets, an’ yet the boat carried them
acrost. It wasn’t no time in reachin’ the other bank, an’ when it
stopped, the hossmen rode out on this bridge of clouds, which seemed
to have been put thar on purpose fur them, and went t’wards the house.
I kept clost watch of them, to see which way they turned, but they
didn’t turn at all. They kept straight ahead, an’ went into the
rancho. I rubbed my eyes ag’in, an’ when I opened ’em the boat wasn’t
thar, the bridge of clouds had disappeared, the fire had gone out, an’
the rancho was as dark an’ silent as though thar had never been nobody
about it. I tell you, Dick, I was skeered when I seed that; but I’ve
got a leetle courage, I reckon, an’ I made up my mind that I would
find out the meanin’ of them strange doin’s, or die a tryin’. I had
seed them two fellers go into the rancho, an’ I wanted to know how
they got in, an’ what they were goin’ to do thar. I didn’t stop to
think the matter over, ’cause I knowed I should back out if I did; but
jumpin’ to my feet, I ran down the bank of the creek to the water, an’
struck out for the other shore. I wasn’t long in gettin’ acrost, an’
presently I found myself standin’ clost to the wall where I had seed
the fire shinin’, an’ where them two hossmen had gone in. Was I really
awake? Had I seed any body about thar at all? Dick, thar wasn’t a door
or winder on that side of the buildin’! The wall was as solid as the
ground--not a single crack or crevice in it. How could them two
fellers have gone through a stone wall five foot thick? I axed myself
that question, an’ then I fetched a little whistle, an’ turned an’ run
fur my life. I swum that creek quicker’n it was ever swum afore, I
reckon; an’ when I reached my hoss, I put spurs to him, an’ come home
a flyin’. I kept lookin’ back all the while, to see if thar wasn’t
somethin’ follerin’ me, an’ I didn’t draw an easy breath until I come
within sight of this rancho. I’ve seed an’ heered of a heap of queer
things durin’ the sixty years I’ve been knocked about on the prairy,
but this yere is a leetle ahead of ’em all.’ That’s the way old Bob
told me his story, youngsters,” said Dick, in conclusion. “You may
laugh at it if you want to, but I won’t, ’cause I know that every word
of it is the truth.”
For a few moments after the trapper ceased speaking, the boys stood
looking at him and at one another in blank amazement. His story
reminded them of the tales of enchantment they had read in the Arabian
Nights. As strange as it may seem, however, they were not so much
astonished at the recital of the singular events that had happened at
the old Spaniard’s rancho, as they were to know that Roderick and King
James had been seen to go in there. Frank turned the matter over in
his mind, and told himself that he had heard something that would,
sooner or later, lead to the breaking up of the robber-band. Like the
others, he could not explain the “bridge of clouds,” nor could he
understand how a boat could be ferried across a wide creek without
hands, or how a solid stone wall, five feet thick, could open to admit
the horsemen; but still he knew that if these things had really
happened, they were the results of human agency, and that there was
nothing supernatural about them. He did not believe that Don Carlos
had any thing to do with the horse-thieves, and yet it did not seem
possible that such proceedings as the old trapper had witnessed could
go on in his rancho without his knowledge. Don Carlos was a prominent
personage in the settlement. He was one of the wealthiest men in
Southern California, numbered his cattle and horses by thousands, his
money by bushels instead of dollars (Uncle James had once told his
nephews that he had seen three barrels of gold in the old Spaniard’s
bed-room), and there was no need that he should risk his life by
engaging in any such business. Besides, he had lost several fine
horses himself, and had been untiring in his efforts to discover the
thieves. If he was one of the guilty parties, he certainly had reason
to congratulate himself on the skillful manner in which he had avoided
arousing the suspicions of his neighbors.
“I have told you the story, youngsters,” said Dick, “an’ you can do
what you think best. You can bear one thing in mind, howsomever, an’
that is, if you’re goin’ to be keerless, like you allers are, an’ try
to find out what’s been goin’ on at that rancho, you can look to the
settlers for help, if you want any. Ole Bob says that thar aint money
enough in Californy to hire him to go back thar; an’ if he won’t go,
you’d better believe that Dick Lewis won’t go nuther. I don’t want to
see any thing that ole Bob is afeared of.”
“I think we had better let the matter rest until Uncle James returns,”
said Frank. “He will know what ought to be done. Now let us go out
and look at that trap.”
“You had better keep away from thar,” said Dick. “If Ole Davy happens
to be prowlin’ about in the woods, he’ll larn you more of the nater of
grizzly bars than you ever knowed afore.”
“O, we’re not going to trouble him,” replied Johnny.
“And if he knows when he is well off he won’t trouble us either,” said
Archie. “I’ve wanted to fight somebody ever since I lost that horse;
and I’m just as willing it should be Old Davy as any one else.”
The cousins had a good deal of trouble in selecting their horses; but,
with the trapper’s assistance, they were finally mounted to their
satisfaction, and after securing their weapons, and a couple of axes,
with which to repair the trap, they whistled to their dogs, and
galloped toward the mountains.