ANXIOUS HOURS
Paz grunted, with characteristic Indian indifference when the work of
the third degree ceased, as Buck Tooth, accompanied by the boy
ranchers, waddled up and made known what he had found out.
"So that's what the beggar did!" exclaimed Captain Marshall, when he
understood. "He split his forces, and sent the young man and girl
farther on up into the mountains. Well, it means another chase!"
"And one not so easy to make," added Snake.
"Why?" asked Bud.
"Well, the trail will be worse, for one thing, and we won't have as
many men to help. Got to send a guard back with these," and he waved
his hand to indicate the Yaquis who had been made prisoners.
"I'll spare as many of my men as possible," said the captain, "and as
soon as I get these imps where they'll be safe for the next few years,
I'll have the escort return. They'll want to see this thing through.
I'm coming with you."
"Oh, that's good!" exclaimed Nort. It was not that he did not depend
on the cowboys from Diamond X, but there was something about the
troopers that inspired confidence. The cowboys, too, were glad that
they would have some regulars with them.
"And now let's get this story in proper shape," suggested the captain.
"Lieutenant Snow, you'll get ready to take as many men as you'll need
and herd the rascals back over the border, or at least to La Nogalique.
It may be that the United States Marshal there will want to deal with
them himself. In case he does that relieves you all the sooner. Get
in touch with the fort when you have delivered your prisoners, and
there may be orders for you."
"Yes, sir," answered the wounded lieutenant, saluting. He had no
thought of quitting though he was painfully hurt.
Then Buck Tooth told what his taunts had forced from the captive
Yaquis, and the whole trick was plain to the experienced cowboys and
the troopers. Paz, fearing the result of keeping the captives with
him, had sent them away when he learned that his pursuers were near.
How he learned that fact was one of the mysteries. How the news
traveled, in that wild country, where civilized folk were often at
pains to get into communication with each other, will probably never be
known. But in some manner Paz had become aware of the closing in on
him of the soldiers and the cowboys and he had tried to forestall their
vengeance. But he did not reckon on the wiliness of Buck Tooth, whose
taunts had caused the truth to be blurted out.
So, while Paz and his renegades were being sent back to pay the
penalties for their uprising, Captain Marshall, with some of his picked
men, and the band from Diamond X got ready to move forward again. One
or two of the cowboys, who had been rather badly hit by bullets, were
induced to go back for treatment. An effort made to have Bud do the
same was met by a flat refusal.
"I've got one good hand!" the lad declared, holding up his left, "and I
can shoot an automatic with that after somebody loads it for me."
"We'll load!" offered Nort and Dick.
So the boy ranchers, like the Three Guardsmen "all for one and one for
all," stuck together.
"There's going to be hard work--and danger ahead of us," Snake had
said, and Captain Marshall bore him out in this.
"That's what we came for," declared Nort.
"Surest thing you know!" assented his brother, and Bud nodded his
assent.
So they moved forward again.
This time they were working toward a more certain object than when they
were out scouting around to pick up the trail of the Yaquis.
Now they must make their way back to where the party, with Rosemary and
Floyd as prisoners, had separated from the main body.
This was comparatively simple as regards tracing the way Paz and his
followers had descended the mountain into the valley of the plain where
the last fight and surrender had taken place. But when the trail of
Mike and his men was located--then would come the real test.
The way grew more rough as they proceeded back along the route taken by
the fleeing main body of Yaquis. It was an ascending trail, over a
path that was possible only to the tough western ponies.
Fortunately they had an ample supply of provisions and the water supply
was adequate, which was a vital necessity. The only hardship in the
way of grub was on the horses, the herbage being scanty at times, so
that as much speed as was desired could not be made, detours being
necessary in order to come upon fodder for the steeds.
This caused them to spend more time on the route than they desired and
each hour of delay made the boy ranchers more and more apprehensive for
the safety of their captured cousins. However it could not be helped.
Certain precautions must be observed if the band of rescuers was to
arrive efficient enough to cope with the Yaquis. Though not a quarter
of the original body was now in charge of Rosemary and Floyd, they were
picked fighters, so Buck Tooth had learned. And they probably would
make a stand in some natural fastness which vantage point would be hard
to attack and turn.
Through two long, hot weary days the march of the rescuers was kept up,
and they were all glad when night came that they might camp and be at
rest.
"But we've struck the branching trail," Bud said to his cousins. "All
we have to do now is to keep on until we corner the beggars, and get
Rosemary and Floyd away from them."
Bud had sized up the situation correctly, though it remains to be
stated that it was easier said than done. By carefully noting the
"sign" along the way, the cowboys and soldiers had reached the place
where the selected band had ridden away with their captives. And this
was the trail now being followed.
There was more than hard work--hard work followed hard work--and there
was danger. It had been hard from the very start--from the time the
boy ranchers had left after the first wild alarm over the kidnapping of
Rosemary and Floyd. They had been keyed up to high tension all the
while, and this, in itself, if you have ever experienced it, is
wearing. There had been absolutely no time for light enjoyment--none
of the humor of the cowboys had a chance to manifest itself.
Aside from an occasional burst into song the way had been grim and
weary. There was nothing to lighten it, for over all hung the
apprehension that something dreadful would befall Rosemary and her
brother.
And that dread was still present.
Even at the very end of the trail it might be found that all their
efforts had been in vain, and that the Yaquis, driven into a panic of
fear, had ended the lives of their captives.
So there was this nerve-racking pall of gloom hanging over all, and to
this was added the hard physical work of keeping to a difficult trail,
with danger besetting on every hand.
That there was danger, not the most optimistic of them would have
denied. There was danger in urging one's horse up a narrow path
overhanging some gorge.
There was danger that some lurking Yaqui, unable to keep up with the
main body of Mike's men, might send a bullet into the back of one of
the rescuers. Or Mike could have posted a party in ambush at any one
of a dozen places along the trail, there to surprise and kill off a
number of the vengeful whites following him.
All this made it exceedingly hard for the boy ranchers and their
friends, but they were never daunted. On they urged their weary
ponies, and the trail was as hard on horseflesh as it was on man and
youth.
Still no one complained. Even Bud bore without remark the pain of his
wounded hand, and it was a most painful injury. However Captain
Marshall had no small skill with what primitive remedies they had with
them, and he saved Bud from the necessity of a surgical operation
later, as the wound was kept clean, so that it healed from within.
Though once, when it had grown shut, with the possible danger of pus
forming within, and had to be opened, poor Bud saw everything getting
black before his eyes. And it was only by gritting his teeth, and
remembering how, it was said, Indians bit bullets in twain in the
excess of their agony before uttering a groan, that the lad prevented
himself from fainting under the captain's ministrations.
So night settled down on the second day of their rush forward on the
trail of Mike and those he held captive.
"You get to bed and take it easy," Nort said to Bud, when the latter
talked of standing guard, after camp had been made.
"That's right," agreed Dick. "There's enough of us without you."
"But I don't want to be a quitter!" Bud said. "And we're so close to
Mike and his gang now--or we ought to be--that there may be an attack
any hour."
"The Yaquis won't attack at night," declared Rolling Stone. "They're
too lazy!"
This, indeed, is characteristic of many Indian tribes, though perhaps
the real reason may be based on superstition instead of objection to
exertion.
However, Bud allowed himself to be pursuaded to take his ease rolled up
in his blankets. There were no tents, and, in fact, none were really
needed, for though the nights were cooler than the days, a blanket and
a fire made every man comfortable.
So night settled down, the stars came out, the cooling wind blew the
smoke of the camp fire here and there and the posted sentries walked
their beats, waiting for what might happen.
That they were near to the hiding place of Mike, and, it was hoped, of
the captives too, could not be doubted. The trail had become more
fresh with every mile traversed.
"He's gone into some cave to hold off as long as possible," was the
opinion of Captain Marshall.
Nort and Dick had adjoining posts. They had been selected for the
first four hours of duty, from 8 to 12 o'clock, and it was near that
last hour when Nort, coming back from having reached the end of his
beat, called softly to his brother.
"Did you hear anything?" asked Nort.
"What do you mean?" asked Dick in turn.
"Well, like some one walking. Listen!"