THE SCOUT’S RETURN.
At first thought Señor Otega had believed that he had been the one
shot at, and as his horse set a good example of flight, he determined
to encourage him in it, believing there were other outlaws about.
But ere the horse had made half a dozen bounds, a voice called out:
“Ho, señor, I fired that shot!”
Señor Otega recognized the voice at once. It had a ring in it that
once heard could not be forgotten. So he wheeled his horse, and rode
back to find the one who had rescued him standing by the side of the
fallen outlaw.
“Señor Cody!”
“Yes; I had a dread that your coming with me as far as you did might
get you into trouble, so I turned back to dog your steps, unseen by
you, and see you enter your ranch in safety.”
“How glad am I that you did, señor!”
“I was not very far behind you, nearer you than I thought, for you
must have slackened your speed, and I distinctly heard the voice of
your captor.
“I instantly sprang from my saddle, and, advancing on foot, realized
that you had been captured, and I saw one man, but took the chances
of there being more.
“As he was an outlaw, I thought it best to put him out of the way.”
“God bless you,” was all the ranchero could at first say.
But he soon conquered his emotion and told just what his captor had
said to him.
Buffalo Bill listened attentively, and then said abruptly:
“This man was sent to kidnap you?”
“Yes.”
“Is he alone?”
“Yes.”
“His being there shows that he saw you leave your home, was watching
your return, shadowing you in fact.”
“No doubt of it, señor.”
“Well, I wish you to be guided by me in this matter.”
“I will.”
“Say nothing, even to your wife, of this attack on you to-night. I
mean that no one must know of this attack on you, señor.”
“But why, Señor Cody?”
“This man was sent to do this work. If he does not return to report,
they will not know what has become of him, for I shall strap his body
upon his horse, which must be near, take the animal to the lake,
lead him in, and thence along the shore in the water to a spot near
my ranch.
“I will search the body for any telling articles there may be on it,
and will hide away his saddle and bridle.”
“But the horse, señor?”
“I will give him into the keeping of my men for a day, and after they
have branded him and disguised him, his own master, if alive, would
not know him, and one of them will ride him, so he will not go back
to his home, at least, not just now.”
“You know what you are about, Señor Cody?”
“I hope so. Now we will find that horse, mount his master on him, and
I’ll lead him back through the timber, not in the trail.”
“And your horse, señor?”
“Is trained, señor, and will keep always in the trail as I start him
until we reach the lake shore, and there I will mount him.”
“What will this dead man’s comrades think?”
“In my opinion they will track him, find his trail leading here, then
back to the lake, where they will lose it.
“They will see that your horse was halted here, remained for some
time, and the tracks will reveal that two men were here, their
comrade and you. They will take my footprints for yours, so you must
not dismount.
“But when I have removed the body, you must move your horse about
all over the spot, to mark out all traces of where it lay, for the
ground is soft, I notice, beneath my feet. Then you go on homeward,
and continue to gallop until you get there.”
“But that will not explain that dead man’s absence?”
“Yes, for they will believe that, being alone, when he captured you,
why you simply bribed him to let you go.”
Going into the timber, Buffalo Bill was not long in finding the horse
of the outlaw, and the body of the dead kidnaper was tied across the
saddle with his own lariat, and then the animal and that of Señor
Otega were moved all about, until every trace of where the man had
fallen had been destroyed.
Bidding the señor good night, and promising to pay him another visit
in good time, Buffalo Bill walked back to his own horse and the pack
animal, turned toward the old ranch, threw the rein of the other over
the saddle horn, and started them off at a walk.
Then he returned to the kidnaper’s horse, and led him through the
timber, and then back over the two miles to the lake shore. There he
overtook his horse and the pack animal, and they were taken into the
lake, but at different points.
Along the beach, ankle deep in the lake, they continued their way,
over the miles that lay between the point where they had entered the
water and the old Mission Ranch.
At last the scout left the lake at a place where his trail led direct
to the hacienda. He saw the glimmer of a light there, and he knew
that it must be at the gate, and placed as a beacon to guide him
home. Not a horse or a steer did he see, and he felt that they had
all been driven into the grounds again for safety.
As he neared the gate, the cheery voice of Texas Jack called out:
“Is that you, chief?”
“Yes, Jack.”
“We were getting anxious about you, and not one of the men has
retired.”
“What, more ghosts?”
“Not the shadow of one, but the men wished to remain up to see if you
came in all right.”
“Oh, yes, I am all right. But I have a pack animal loaded with good
things, for I have been off on a visit, and, Jack, I have another
horse here, with his dead master upon him.
“Now, walls have ears, they say, and for fear the old hacienda may
have some secret closets where foes are watching, I do not wish the
men to breathe a word of this dead man.
“First, he must be searched, then buried to-night in the grave with
the other one, and his horse must be disguised.”
“I understand, chief.”
“In the morning drive the cattle and horses over my trail to the
lake.”
“Yes, chief.”
Feeling that he could leave all to Texas Jack, Buffalo Bill
dismounted and entered the walled-in grounds, discovering that the
men had during the day made a barrier that nothing could break
through. Then he went on to the hacienda, for he was both tired and
hungry.
The men welcomed their chief in a way that showed how glad they were
to see him back, and that they felt a most warm regard for him.
But he said nothing of his adventure other than to tell them to go
out and see Texas Jack.
Buffalo Bill had no desire to say anything in the hacienda that other
ears than those his words were intended for should hear. He was very
suspicious about the old structure, for, though it seemed one could
discover if there were secret closets about it, he very well knew
that such had not been found out, and they were certainly there.
This was proven by the mountain lion in the corridor, the sounds of
moaning and weeping, and the howling of a dog the night before. Those
sounds could only have been made by persons in concealment.
The scouts had discussed the matter among themselves when out of
the place, and off from it, for the chief had warned them about
talking when in the hacienda, and, where they could understand that
men could have uttered the moans and other sounds, they could not
comprehend just how the weeping of a woman and the voice of a child
could have been heard.
“Pards, those ghosts must enter here by way of the cliff up yonder,
so to-night we’ll put a strong guard there to head them off,” said
Buffalo Bill.
And so it was planned for the next night.
Going out to Texas Jack, they saw the dead body, and it was quietly
buried; then they took the horse in hand, and soon had him cleverly
metamorphosed.
The saddle and bridle were taken into the hacienda and hidden, and
all were told that they must utter not a word within the house that
they did not wish to be known as there might be eavesdroppers whom
they did not wish to know their plans.
This all attended to, Texas Jack went up to the hacienda to report,
and that also he had what had been taken from the dead man put away
for inspection on the morrow.
There was a guard of four men that night, two in the hacienda, two in
the grounds.
Soon after midnight Buffalo Bill was awakened by low groans. Where
they came from he could not tell. He arose in the darkness, and tried
to trace the sound to its source. But in vain.
Lone Star was on guard in the corridor, but he, too, knew not whence
they came.
Then followed the sound of weeping in a woman’s voice, as upon the
night before.
“Go, Sam, and see if there is any disturbance among the cattle. I
will keep watch until you return,” said Buffalo Bill.
Lone Star left, and the chief took his stand just in the middle of
the corridor, and listened attentively.
As he listened, there was heard the wailing of a child, as though in
pain. And the moans, the weeping, and the wailing continued.
“It all comes from the center of this hacienda, either from overhead
or from underneath, which I cannot tell,” mused the scout.
Suddenly there rang out the wild, piercing shriek of the night before.
For a moment Buffalo Bill was startled, so close to him did it seem.
The men were all awakened by it, and upon their feet in an instant.
There was an alarm sounded, but just then Lone Star Sam returned, and
reported the horses and cattle quiet.
“Yes, and the same game must be played here to quiet these ghosts,”
said Buffalo Bill.
Lone Star had heard the shriek, for it had even reached the men on
guard at the gate. He said every scout was up and ready for business.
“This must not be,” said Buffalo Bill. “They must pay no attention
to any sounds they hear, and then we will master the situation.”
This order was given secretly to each one of the men, and they
returned to their beds, though some did not care to sleep, as that
unearthly shriek still echoed in their ears.
The morning dawned, and then Buffalo Bill gave orders to each man
to retire the next night early, and to pay no attention to moans,
groans, weeping, wailing or shrieks.
“We will disappoint them, pards. And more, only one man need stand
guard to-night in the hacienda, and one at the gate.
“If there is cause for alarm, a pistol shot will be the signal to
bring up to the spot where we are needed, but remember, nothing less
than seeing a ghost to-night counts, for hearing them is nothing.”
These orders were given away from the hacienda, where no one could
hear, if concealed within the walls.
The men to guard the cattle left early with the herd and the horses,
and the trail of Buffalo Bill’s horse and the led animals was blotted
out to the lake.
One of the men even rode the horse of the dead kidnaper out on duty.
His heavy tail had been thinned out more than half, as also had his
bushy mane, while two brands had been put upon him that looked old.
This was done by folding a cloth, saturating it in water, placing
it upon the side of the animal, and then holding the red-hot brand
against it until the hair was scalded off, but the flesh not burned.
This gave it an old look, and the horse certainly would not be known
by the man who had owned him.
Just at midnight a low moaning was heard. As the wind had come up,
and was whistling about the old hacienda, it made the moaning seem
more dismal than ever. Then deep groans were heard.
A few scouts moved uneasily at this, but no one rose, no one spoke.
The weeping of a woman followed, without causing any disturbance
among the sleepers, if any one was really asleep. Next was heard the
plaintive wailing of a child.
Still no one stirred. A few minutes after there was a perfect chorus
of these melancholy sounds, and still the scouts lay quiet.
Suddenly, without warning, the same unearthly, terrible shriek which
had before brought all the scouts to their feet echoed through the
old hacienda.
To say that some of the scouts started would be but the truth. But
all had their orders from Buffalo Bill, and not a man moved. The
shriek had caused hardly any more disturbance than had the moans,
weeping, and wailing.
But, as though angry at having remained unnoticed, the shrieker sent
forth peal after peal, until Buffalo Bill called out:
“Oh, quit that racket, ghost, and go back to your grave; for we can’t
help you.”
The scouts laughed, and in a moment the sounds ceased altogether.
Nothing more disturbed the night’s rest, and the morning dawned with
the secret sleuths the victors.
Buffalo Bill rose early, and while breakfast was being got ready he
went out and scaled the cliff.
“Pards, to-night some of us will camp out upon that cliff,” he said
upon his return.