THE TURN OF FORTUNE’S WHEEL.
“Kin I believe my eyes?” roared Nomad, as, gripping both the scout’s
hands, he stood staring into his face. “Is et shorely my pard,
Buffler, as I had given up as drowned like er rat in er trap down
thar in ther Forty Thieves? Howlin’ hyeners! Why, his clothes ain’t
even wet! Say, what new brand o’ Cody-luck was flashed on ye at this
hyer turn o’ fortune’s wheel? Tell me, pard!”
“Tell us all,” chimed in Wild Bill, as he and the rest crowded around
the scout; “we want to know, Cody.”
“Fortune’s wheel has turned queerly for all of us,” answered the
scout, “but I think we’d better put off our explanations until some
more favorable time--over some more of that maverick steer at the
Lucky Strike, for instance. Eh, Blake?”
“I’m eating that steer with a good deal o’ relish,” grinned Blake.
“If you say so, Buffalo Bill, we’ll wait till then.”
“Where Yellow Hair, Pa-e-has-ka?” asked Little Cayuse.
“She’s safe, boy,” answered the scout. “What have you done with the
horses?”
“They’re safe, too, Buffler,” spoke up Lonesome Pete.
“Everybody seems to be safe,” smiled the scout, “with the exception
of Blake. What ails your wrist?” he added to the miner.
“Exchanged tokens of esteem with Lawless,” explained Blake; “I put
a bullet inter his shoulder, an’ he recippercated by puttin’ another
across my wrist. Not much more’n a scratch, howsumever, but I’m
almost willing to bet I’ve put Lawless down an’ out.”
“Too good ter be true,” muttered Nomad.
“Talking about bein’ safe,” said Hank Tenny, “ye come within one o’
losin’ yer Piute pard, Buffler Bill.”
“How’s that? Did Lawless have a try at him?”
“Nary. Cayuse, thinkin’ you was wiped out, sung a leetle death-song
all fer himself. Ef Pete, thar, hadn’t been quick, Cayuse would have
put a knife into his own breast.”
The scout turned and looked at the boy. Their eyes met, and what
passed between them will never be known, but the scout reached out a
kindly hand, drew the boy toward him and patted him on the shoulder.
“Cayuse would do a lot for Pa-e-has-ka,” said he, “and he knows
Pa-e-has-ka would do a lot for him; but when Pa-e-has-ka takes the
long trail, as some time he must, he does not want to think that
Cayuse will sing his death-song and follow. This life was made to
live as long as we can; then, when our time comes to quit it, to pass
out like brave men who have fought well and are willing to go.
“But,” and here the scout turned briskly away, “enough of this.
Wah-coo-tah is on the shelf, below the brink of the cañon, and Dell
is with her----”
“Wah-coo-tah?” exclaimed Nomad.
“Yes--she was the ‘spirit,’ Nick, who spoke to us from the cellar of
the Alcazar, and she may become a spirit in reality if something is
not done for her very soon. She was shot, by Lawless himself, in the
level of the Forty Thieves.”
“By Lawless!” echoed Wild Bill angrily. “There’s a hound for you. His
own daughter, _amigos_.”
“Lawless is capable of anything,” went on the scout; “but just now
that is neither here nor there. Dell and I were in the level and it
was Wah-coo-tah who saved our lives. She must be taken as soon as
possible to Sun Dance. Is there a doctor there, or shall we have to
take her to Montegordo?”
“Gentleman Jim,” said Hank Tenny, “is a better man with the surgeon’s
knife and with medicine than he is with the keerds. He ampertated
Gusty Williams’ leg, thet time a blast went off an’ smashed it, an’
he----”
“Gentleman Jim will do, anyhow, until we can get another doctor from
Montegordo. But we need the horses. Is it possible to get them up
here from the gully?”
“Wuh!” said Little Cayuse.
“He means,” said Pete, “thet we kin git the critters up the same way
us fellers come. But it’ll be a scramble.”
“We’ll do it, though,” declared Hank Tenny. “Leave the scout with his
pards, boys, an’ we’ll go arter the hosses.”
Blake, Tenny, Pete, and Cayuse started off among the boulders toward
the point where the gully entered the cañon. Blake assured Cayuse it
wouldn’t be necessary for him to go along, but Cayuse would let no
one besides himself do anything with Navi.
“While the horses are coming, pards,” said the scout to Nomad and
Wild Bill, “we might go down to the shelf and bring up Wah-coo-tah.
Two of us can carry her up easier than she could ride.”
“Thet’s the tork,” seconded Nomad.
They descended to the shelf and broke through the brush before the
astounded eyes of Dell Dauntless.
“Why--why----” the girl faltered, “is that really you, Nomad? And
Wild Bill, too! Oh, what luck! Where did you find them, pard?” and
she shifted her gaze to the scout.
“I found them on top of the cañon wall,” answered the scout, “and
Nick, there, was in a complaining mood.”
“Shucks, Buffler,” muttered Nomad.
“He was complaining because I had crossed the divide without taking
him along,” smiled the scout. “How is Wah-coo-tah?”
“Me all right,” spoke up Wah-coo-tah for herself.
“She’s far from all right, Buffalo Bill,” said Dell. “I’m anxious to
get her where she can receive medical aid.”
“It won’t be long now until we have her in Sun Dance,” returned the
scout. “Cayuse, Lonesome Pete, Hank Tenny, and Henry Blake have gone
to bring the horses from the gully.”
“Cayuse is all right, too?” cried Dell.
“Chipper as a cricket,” said Wild Bill. “All he needed to make him
a happy Indian was a glimpse of the scout, alive and hearty. Cayuse
has had it, and he’s feeling fine, thank you. And we hope,” he added,
turning a sympathetic glance upon Wah-coo-tah, “that you will soon be
feeling fine, too. You’ve done a heap for the scout and Dell--Cody
has told us about it--and the whole possé of us feel like we couldn’t
do enough for you. We’re going to carry you up the hill, Nomad and
me, so you’ll be able to travel just as soon as the horses come
along.”
“You plenty good to Injun girl,” said Wah-coo-tah.
Never before in her whole life, perhaps, had she been treated with
such consideration. The lot of an Indian woman is a hard one, from
the very time she begins it, on a papoose-board, until she leaves it,
and is wrapped in her best blanket and hoisted into some tree, or
buried deep under a pile of rocks.
Lifting Wah-coo-tah gently, old Nomad and Wild Bill carried her up
the steep path, taking care to make the journey as comfortable for
her as possible.
When they reached the top of the wall, Cayuse, Pete, Tenny, and
Blake were coming with the horses. Bear Paw threw up his head and
whinnied at the sight of the scout, and Navi, Cayuse’s pinto, and
Silver Heels, Dell’s white cayuse, likewise seemed to recognize their
owners; but Hide-rack, Nomad’s mount, didn’t seem to care a particle
whether his owner was around or not.
“Pizen old critter, anyway,” said Nomad. “Honest, he’s so plumb full
o’ pizen ye kin scrape strychnin off’n his neck with er shingle. But
he’s so blame indiff’rent ter me thet I like him fer et. Et shows
character; an’ I ain’t got no tender feelin’s when I gives him er
wallopin’. Whoa, ye onnery, knock-kneed, gangle-legged ole speciment,
you! Ye’ll never know how nigh ye come ter losin’ me, an’ I reckon ye
don’t keer. But hyar I am, big as life, so don’t ye git sassy.”
As soon as Buffalo Bill was astride Bear Paw, he took Wah-coo-tah up
in front of him.
The return to Sun Dance was then begun.
For a time the riders picked their way along the rim of the cañon
among the boulders; then, striking the Montegordo trail, they had a
better course, and rode faster.
From time to time the trail gave them glimpses of the bottom of the
cañon. The flood had almost entirely subsided, save in one place
where the down-grade struck the rise that continued to the foot of
the “flat” on which the mining-camp was perched. In the low place a
lake had formed, extending for a mile up and down the gulch.
“Lucky thar wasn’t any placer-miners at work in this part o’ ther
gulch,” remarked Blake. “Ef thar had been, they’d hev had little
chance o’ escapin’ with their lives.”
“The flood never got very clost ter Sun Dance,” observed Tenny. “The
old gulch is too much up an’ down; thar ain’t no decent river as
would run through it.”
“I reckon _Nuzhee Mona_ Lake is down some,” said Pete. “It couldn’t
lose all thet water without feelin’ it. I’ve thought, fer a long
time, thar’d be doin’s if anythin’ ever happened ter thet wedge o’
stone thet kept it out o’ the cañon. I don’t reckon all the wedge was
blowed out, kase if the hull lake had spilled over it would make more
of a showin’.”
“It made a big enough showin’ ter suit me,” said Tenny. “When I seen
thet wall o’ water rushin’ at me, I went over my ‘Now I lay mes’
for’ard, back’ard, an’ sideways.”
“An’ scramble!” cried Pete; “gee, man, how us huskies scrambled fer
thet gully. Oh, I reckon, arter all, thar was water enough.”
Half an hour later the horsemen filed down the cañon top toward the
camp of Sun Dance.
“Last time I traveled this hyer road,” said Blake, “I didn’t know a
thing about it.”
“An’ ye wouldn’t never hev knowed a thing about it if it hadn’t ’a’
been fer Dell Dauntless,” spoke up Tenny.
“As I said afore, an’ now say ag’in,” said Blake, turning in his
saddle and removing his sombrero--a new one, recently purchased at
the place where he had secured his six-shooters--“I take off my hat
to Dell Dauntless.”
“We all do that,” added Wild Bill, “and likewise to Wah-coo-tah.”