THE "YELLOW DOGS"
One day about a week after Dusty Star's night in the swamp, he was
returning with Kiopo from a long excursion in the forest, which they had
been exploring to the east, when suddenly a large fox came leaping down
a run-way straight in front of them.
He stopped dead the moment he caught sight of them. Kiopo, who was in
front, growled.
Dusty Star expected to see the fox instantly turn tail, and was
surprised to see that it stood its ground, though it held one paw
suspended, as if for immediate escape. Still growling in a threatening
manner, Kiopo advanced. His hackles were raised, and Dusty Star saw that
he lowered his body slightly in preparation for attack. Then, in a
flash, he recognised his new acquaintance, the Silver Fox.
At once he grabbed Kiopo by the thick mane on his neck, and gave him
clearly to understand that this was a friend whom he must not attack.
Kiopo stopped growling, and stood still, while Dusty Star stepped
quietly forward towards the fox.
Whatever it was that had startled Baltook, it was quite plain that he
was in flight, and that the danger behind alarmed him more than that in
front. He allowed Dusty Star to approach to within a few feet, though
his wary gaze was fixed upon the wolf, who now came up slowly to Dusty
Star's side.
Baltook, watching warily, never winked an eyelid; but his unwinking eyes
spoke. "Danger!" they said, as clearly as if he had put the warning into
words.
"There is danger coming behind me--coming quickly. There are strangers
in the forest. The trees hide them. But they are coming quickly along
the trail."
And then, as noiselessly as he had come, Baltook leaped lightly into the
underwood, and disappeared.
In spite of the warning the silver fox had given, Dusty Star was at a
loss as to what was best to be done. Both the danger, and its direction,
were equally vague. In what part of the forest Baltook had met it, he
had not said. Dusty Star's senses were keen, but he knew that Kiopo's
were keener. It was for Kiopo to decide. So he contented himself by
watching the wolf to see what he would do.
At first Kiopo did nothing, except to throw his nose into the wind;
After waiting a little, Dusty Star moved forward. A low growl from Kiopo
checked him. He turned in the opposite direction. Kiopo growled again.
By this time, the sympathy between them was so close that the slightest
hint was enough to say what they wanted. So that whenever Kiopo went so
far as to growl, Dusty Star always knew that something was seriously
amiss and never failed to take the warning.
And now, Kiopo began to move in the same direction as that which the fox
had taken. Moreover he went quickly, as if there was no time to lose.
Dusty Star realized that they were travelling rapidly westward, but not
towards the camp.
The forest was intensely still. There was no sound save that of their
own going, as they brushed against the undergrowth where it was too
thick to avoid. Yet the further they went, Dusty Star was aware of an
increasing sense of fear. Kiopo, too, was plainly growing more and more
uneasy. In spite of his anxiety to cover the ground, he went with
extreme caution. If it had not been for Dusty Star, he would have
travelled much more quickly. As it was, he kept looking behind,
impatiently waiting for the boy to catch up. Yet the speed at which they
travelled did not seem to carry them out of reach of that mysterious
danger threatening them behind.
For a long time Dusty Star had observed that they were travelling
uphill; so that when, at last, they reached more open ground and came
out on the top of a cliff, at the edge of a deep ravine, he was not
surprised. The place was utterly unknown to him; yet Kiopo appeared to
be on familiar ground. He trotted on down a shelving ledge dividing the
upper from the lower part of the cliff, and Dusty Star followed. At a
point where the ledge turned abruptly round an angle of the cliff, Kiopo
suddenly looked back, stopped, and showed his teeth. Dusty Star saw an
Indian come out from the forest almost at the same point at which they
themselves had left it, and then turn towards the ledge. A moment
afterwards he was followed by several more.
Without waiting to see if a still larger band now followed, Dusty Star
ran quickly on, with Kiopo closely at his heels. As they proceeded, the
gorge grew narrower.
Suddenly the ledge came to an end, so that it was impossible for them to
continue any further. Above them, rose a precipitous wall of rock.
Below, the precipice plunged sheer to the bed of the ravine. To return
by the way they had come, was to run straight into the arms of their
pursuers. One chance only remained: to leap the chasm before them.
It was not more than could be cleared by a vigorous jump; but down below
was a terrifying depth where the shrunken stream sent up a hollow sound
among the stones. If, after jumping you failed to make good foothold,
you would go down to almost certain destruction in the black throat of
the gorge.
Dusty Star was fully alive to the danger. But he knew that a still
greater danger was coming on behind. He pressed himself against the rock
at his back, in order to make the most of the few steps possible for a
run, drew a deep breath, and then took a flying leap over the chasm. He
heard the dull roar of the water, he saw the yawning blackness below,
and then found himself clinging for dear life to the roots of a stone
pine on the opposite bank.
He pulled himself into safety, and looked back, expecting to see Kiopo
follow him at once; but Kiopo did not move.
"Kiopo!" he called. "Kiopo!"
The wolf never turned his head. Dusty Star looked nervously back along
the gorge. A few moments afterwards the figure of an Indian came quickly
around the turn. Rigid as the rock against which he crouched, Kiopo
never stirred. Dusty Star watched with breathless excitement. He knew
that the wolf's stillness meant deadly danger to the unconscious Indian.
The latter came quickly on. In the intense silence the soft padding of
his deer-skin moccasins was plainly audible.
From where Dusty Star crouched, he was invisible to the Indian. So also
was Kiopo hidden by the rock. The boy saw at a glance that the man was
not of his own people, but belonged to the dreaded Yellow Dogs. Now the
Indian had almost reached the rocks. Dusty Star saw Kiopo's powerful
haunches quiver, and held his breath.
The next instant he saw the wolf's great body hurl itself through the
air.
Quick as lightning, the Indian leaped aside. Kiopo's terrible fangs
missed his throat by a finger's breadth. In a flash, the Indian's
tomahawk was out. Kiopo did not wait, and cleared the chasm with a
bound.
And now Dusty Star could see that several more Indians were coming down
the ledge. When they reached the spot where Kiopo had launched his
attack they stopped and examined the opposite bank carefully. Like Dusty
Star, Kiopo had drawn himself out of sight, among the thick mass of
brambles, and creepers.
The Indian who had been attacked could be seen pointing out to his
companions the exact point at which the wolf had disappeared. Dusty Star
watched them with a terrible fear growing moment by moment. If their
pursuers succeeded in making the crossing, he and Kiopo were only two
against five. At present, they were in a sort of rude cave formed by the
roots of the pine and screened by the hanging foliage; but in order to
continue their flight, it would be necessary to come out full in view of
their enemies and risk exposure to their deadly arrows.
They had not long to wait in suspense. They saw one of the Indians
prepare to take the leap.
Close against his side, Dusty Star could feel Kiopo's body shivering
with excitement.
Through the opening in the leaves, he saw an Indian lean back against
the rock as he himself had done in preparation for the spring. The next
instant Kiopo dashed through the opening with a snarl of fury.
Dusty Star saw him meet the Indian at the moment his feet touched the
rock. The body of the wolf and the man seemed to sway together for one
agonized moment on the very brink of the precipice. Then there was a
ringing scream, and both disappeared from view over the edge of the
abyss.