THE FIGHT
The discovery of the Indian trail, and the unmistakable evidence that
the marks had been left by a band of Yaquis, was the most encouraging
news the boy ranchers and their friends had received since starting out
to rescue Rosemary and Floyd. It was a fortunate meeting with the U.S.
Troopers.
"Only for that," observed Bud, as he rode along with his cousins, "we'd
have been way off. We were headed just in the opposite direction when
we took to cover thinking the Yaquis were coming after us."
"Yes, and the longer we traveled the farther off we'd be," agreed Nort.
"It's lucky all around."
"It'll be luckier when we come up to this band of Greasers and take
Rosemary and Floyd away," declared Dick.
"Just think!" exulted Nort. "We'll soon be taking part in a real
Indian fight! I didn't think there could be such a thing outside of a
novel."
"Are these Yaquis real Indians?" asked Dick. "They don't impress me
that way. Seems more like fighting some low down colored men."
"I wouldn't insult a decent negro by comparing him to an Indian of the
present Yaquis tribe," laughed Bud. "They aren't at all alike. But
the Yaquis are real Indians of one of the Mexican races--a race that
was once among the best. Of course, even then, they weren't like our
American Indians."
"I guess I'm looking for tomahawks and scalping knives and listening
for warwhoops!" admitted Dick. "I have an Indian stone pipe home, with
a long flat stem, made of a piece of oak, with designs burned in it.
Around one end are wound some red and blue beads, and the stem has some
old faded ribbons tied to it. Have the Yaquis anything like that?" he
asked Bud.
"Not that I know of. The present generation smoke cigarettes when they
can get 'em, something no self-respecting American Indian would dream
of. Maybe the Yaquis have some such ceremony as smoking the peace
pipe, but I don't know about it. I never saw any of their stone pipes.
I know the kind you mean, Dick. The pipe part is hollowed out with a
small hole--hardly holds enough tobacco for a good smoke, I'd say,
though I never tried it."
"That's the kind," Dick said. "Well, to my mind, these Yaquis aren't
half so--so--well, you know what I mean," he concluded, at loss for the
right word.
"Picturesque," suggested his brother.
"That's it! They aren't at all the kind of Indians you'd like to read
about."
"Rex Beach doesn't think much of 'em," commented Bud. "I read in one
of his books where he says the Yaquis are a playful people, and they
dearly love to hold up Southern Pacific trains. It's one of their
favorite sports and pastimes."
"Do you really think they do?" asked Dick. "If they're train robbers
they have more gumption than I thought."
"Well, I don't know," admitted Bud. "Rex Beach writes good stuff, and
has some corking movies out, but maybe he was joking when he spoke of
the Yaquis. Anyhow we know what they've done to our friends, and it's
up to us to pay 'em back!"
"You said a hollow-toothful that time, kid!" declared Rolling Stone, as
he cantered up ahead to take part in a consultation, caused when a new
"sign" was discovered.
The discovery of new marks in the soil--marks left by the passing along
of some Indians--was deemed of enough importance to call a halt, while
those most familiar in the interpretation of such mystic evidences,
made certain what they indicated.
In this discussion the boy ranchers could have no part for they were
not at all versed in the meaning of what was quite plain to Rolling
Stone, some of the trooper scouts and a few of the cowboys.
"We'll eat as long as we had to stop," decided Captain Marshall, when
it was made known to him that some of the scouts wanted to scurry about
in a circle, and ascertain if there were any more evidences that would
help solve many vital questions.
The troopers had come out well rationed--much better so, in fact than
had our friends, and the soldiers extended an invitation to their
comrade in arms to partake of "grub," an invitation that was quickly
accepted. For the American soldier is the best fed of any in the world.
In the midst of the meal word was sent back to have Buck Tooth, the old
Indian in the service of Bud, to come out to where the trooper scouts
and cowboys were having a consultation.
"Buck Tooth can tell 'em what's what," declared Bud. "He claims to be
a Yaqui, though since these imps have pulled off this stunt I think
I'll get Buck Tooth to change his tribe. But he can read Indian sign
all right."
This was evidently so for, a little later, exultant shouts on the part
of the trooper scouts and the cowboys announced that something new had
been found. And it was Buck Tooth's discovery as the boy ranchers
learned soon.
The old Indian had carefully studied the trail, and then, going off to
one side, had hunted about until he found what he was in evident search
of--another trail, leading in the opposite direction from that our
friends had been following.
"Yaquis come 'long here--go up to mountain, then come back 'gin, same
way like, then go like so," and Buck Tooth held out his arm stiffly,
extending two fingers of his hand wide apart like a fork.
"I see what he means!" exclaimed Snake Purdee. "They doubled on their
track for part of the way back, and then branched off from the trail,
thinking to fool us. But they didn't."
"It looks that way," agreed Lieutenant Snow. "This trail Buck Tooth
discovered is much the fresher. We ought to follow that."
And this they did, after a hasty meal.
Once more they were after the Yaquis, and late that night one of the
scouts in the lead car riding back at full speed with the news:
"They're right ahead of us!"
"Wow!" yelled Bud.
"Hurray!" shouted Dick.
"Get ready for the fight!" cried Nort.
"Wait a minute now, boys!" advised Snake. "You may have a proper part
in the fracas, but remember we're with the United States troops, and
under the leadership of Captain Marshall. We must do as he says."
"Oh, I guess the Captain will give the boys a chance," said Lieutenant
Snow with a smile, as he gave an order to the buglar.
The stragglers rode in, the troops were quickly formed for immediate
action, and other scouts were sent out to report on the location and
disposition of the Yaquis, which were about three miles in advance, the
first scout said.
"Did you see anything of Rosemary or Floyd?" asked Bud anxiously.
"No. I wasn't close enough for that. But the beggars are legging it
for all they're worth!"
"Then let's get after them!" cried the Captain. "We don't want them to
get away!"
The pace had not been fast, so the horses were comparatively fresh, and
they were now urged into a trot, while skirmishers were sent on ahead
to receive the first reports of the advanced scouts.
Suddenly, as the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, some of
the scouts came riding back, pointing down into a small, rocky valley,
while the foremost yelled:
"They're making a stand down there!"
"Come on!" cried Captain Marshall, and, a few minutes later the fight
against the Yaquis began.