CHAPTER XXII
A THRILLING RESCUE IN MID-AIR
Buck, the guide, and Elmer Grissom had reached their appointedrendezvous at two o'clock that afternoon. The hot journey had beentedious and uneventful. Only at the half-breed settlement twentymiles north of Clarkeville had they seen a human being. Therefore,after they had been in camp about an hour, even the vigilant,experienced Buck was startled to observe suddenly a solitaryIndian--his horse as statuesque as himself--watching them from aknoll some two hundred yards distant.
As the old scout raised both hands in signal of peace the Indianrode forward. The man was not in the Indian panoply of the olddays, except that he wore moccasins and had two bands of red andyellow paint on his broad, dark face. A black wide-brimmed hat, afaded blue shirt and trousers completed his outfit.
"How?" exclaimed the Indian.
"Navajo?" answered Buck.
"Ute!" came the answer. "Where go?"
"Right here," said Buck good-naturedly, pointing to the ground.
"Ute land!" retorted the Indian without a trace of expression in hisface.
"No," retorted Buck sharply, "not Ute land. Ute land there,"pointing north, "in Colorado."
"Ute land!" exclaimed the red man again, this time scowling.
Buck only shook his head.
Then the Indian suddenly threw himself from his horse, strode to thewagon and threw up the tail curtain. Safely stored therein he sawthe protected tins of gasoline.
"Whisky?" he exclaimed.
"No," laughed Elmer, "not whisky."
"Whisky," repeated the stranger turning towards Buck; "drink!"
But Buck shook his head.
With out another word the Ute walked haughtily to his horse, threwhimself upon it, and, clasping his heels to its sides, rode quicklyaway.
"I'm sorry," exclaimed the veteran at last.
"I had no idea that there were Utes around here."'
"He doesn't seem dangerous," commented Elmer.
"No," answered Buck, "men who'd cut your throat for a horse neverdo. The chances are he isn't alone."
Elmer looked up in surprise.
"We'll just make sure," exclaimed Buck, making as light of theaffair as possible. "I don't want to lose my horses and you don'twant to lose your freight. We'll make ourselves ready in case ourfriends come back to make us a little visit."
And as night came on and Elmer helped Buck draw the wagon close tothe river bank, where approach from the rear would be difficult, theboy began to realize what it meant to get away from the telegraphand policemen and law and order. And when the experienced scoutunloaded a portion of their heavier freight and began to build asmall barrier Elmer's usual joviality cooled into silence. Thethree piles of brush and driftwood from the river were laid out somedistance in front of the camp in preparation for the agreed signalfires and then, before the sun went down, the scout and hiscompanion made their camp fire and had supper.
"What do yo' expec' dey'll do?" asked the colored lad at last.
"Well, you can't tell. Injuns are puzzles. When they steal theysteal in the dark. When they fight they fight at daybreak."
"What do yo' suggest?"
"To tell the truth, son," answered Buck, "there ain't much to do butkeep yer eyes open and pop it to the first red horse thief ye seecrawlin' around in the night."
"Hadn't we better light our signal fires?" asked Elmer.
"There won't be any signal fires to-night," replied Buck, slowly,"if you want my advice. It's one thing for a bluffin' Ute to walkup in the daylight when you've got a fair chance to give him as goodas he sends, and its another thing for him to get a bead on you asittin' in the light o' yer camp fire--him in the dark."
Elmer saw and understood.
So night fell in silence with Buck and Elmer keyed up and ready tomeet any possible attack.
Nothing happened until several hours had passed. Neither Elmer norBuck were any the less alert, however. The old scout was pacing upand down in front of the barricade and perhaps a hundred feet fromit. Elmer could just hear his soft footfalls in the sand. Suddenlythese ceased. Almost at the same moment there was the crack ofBuck's rifle, a groan and a moment later the scout was inside thebarricade.
"I guess I got him all right," he whispered, "he was makin' too muchnoise."
This was the shot Ned heard miles away in the Cibola.
Again for some minutes there was no sound and then, suddenly andfrom the left, came a spit of flame in the dark. Almost beforeElmer heard the explosion Buck's gun had spoken in reply. Bothbullets went wild, but Buck explained that it was necessary to giveshot for shot, "and right at 'em," said Buck, "as it takes a littleo' the ginger out o' them."
But the besiegers had undoubtedly widened out. The next signs ofthem were two shots, almost together. Elmer's rifle made quickreply, but, to the boy's surprise, Buck failed to fire in return.The scout had disappeared from his companion's side. Before Elmercould call out he heard a rush at the end of the barricade, and thentwo explosions almost together and not ten feet away. He could notdescribe the sound that followed, but he knew that it meant theconvulsions of human beings in agony. He whispered his companion'sname, but there was no answer--only a gasp.
In the black darkness the colored boy, revolver in hand, crawledforward. At the end of the barricade Buck's body was lying. As theboy's hand fell on the old man's breast he knew that it was blood hefelt.
"Buck," he whispered, "Buck! Is yo' hurt?"
He put his arm under his friend's head. For a moment the unconsciousform yielded and then convulsively straightened. Elmer knew that hiscompanion and protector was dead.
With strength that he did not know he had Elmer laid Buck's deadbody behind the little wall of freight boxes.
Then, as if by intuition, he sprang forward and found what hesuspected--the unmoving form of an Indian. Unable to see, Elmerquickly felt over the adjacent ground with his hands and discoveredthe dead Ute's rifle. The revolver was gone. In the same manner herecovered both Buck's rifle and revolver, and then prepared to dohis duty--to protect his employer's goods so long as he could.
He was scarcely entrenched again, with the three magazine rifleslaid on the barricade before him, when his straining ears heard anew sound. Far away and faint, but meaning only one thing, the softchugging of a motor. The Cibola! There could be no doubt of it.The instant feeling of relief was shattered even as it gave Elmernew courage; to attempt to light the signal fires would probablymean instant death. And without them how would his friends know hisposition or peril? But one thing he could do; and even knowing thatit would mean an answering shot from the skulking horse thieves hedischarged his revolver into the air.
Then the sound of the motor died away and the long minutes draggedby. When it began again, and more softly, the sound was nearer.Nearer, and nearer it came and then the circle of light fell on thewagon and was gone. "At least they know where I am," thought Elmerto himself, and settled down courageously for renewed attack,determined to hold out to the last. At this moment came the shotthat put out the Cibola's light.
The nervy boy had been tempted to abandon the wagon and follow thelight, but his second judgment was against this. "If they can, theboys will come back," he argued, "and I'll only get out of this whenI have to."
To Elmer's surprise the attackers had been strangely silent for sometime. With more experience he would have known that this meant evengreater danger, but he only hoped it was due to the distracting andmysterious flying light. Then the sepulchral green light burst outin its funnel-like volume. It was coming back. It flared, wentout, shot over the distant sands again like a searching' eye andthen began moving straight up the river bank towards the wagon.Then came the earth rending explosion. Nor could the besieged boyknow even then that Ned's well-aimed bomb had sent five Utes totheir last sleep.
When the sound of the explosion had died away and Elmer hadrecovered himself--for the shock had thrown him forward on thebarr
icade--the whirr of the Cibola's motor was again far away. Butit was directly above him!
As if the attackers had been paralyzed by the explosion, the longinterval continued without a shot. Then suddenly, from the rightand left and front, the real attack began. One shot sounded as asignal, and then from a half circle before him half a dozen bulletstore their way towards the boy and his barricade. Most of them wentwild. Two hit the boxes and half stunned the lone guardian behindthem. The assailants did not know that one of the two white men wasdead, and Elmer, in hopes temporarily to deceive them, fired two ofthe rifles at the same moment.
But his enemies were closing in; the half circle was growing smallerand the crash of the bullets in the wagon above him and in thebarricade in front told the boy that the end could not be far away.To the right in the direction of the explosion there was a gap inthe fast closing circle. It was folly to delay longer. If escapewere possible, it was in that direction. He would make onedesperate attempt. One shot remained in his rifles. Putting itwhere he thought it would do the most good, and catching up the twoyet full revolvers, the colored boy crawled under the wagon andcrept hastily along the river bank.
And yet he did not dare to attempt to pass the end of the Indiansemi-circle. It was one chance in a thousand. Throwing himself onthe ground, he waited. "Crack!" It was the rifle of an Indian, notfifty feet away and coming nearer. The stealthy footfalls toldElmer that his foe was heading straight for the river bank and thathe was in the Ute's path. Then he could hear the Indian's deepbreathing. Detection was inevitable.
One last thing remained to be done--to kill the Indian and make adash forward down the river bank. And he must act before his foediscovered him. Elmer's revolver flashed fire and he saw his foe ofthe red and yellow face bound into the air and then topple forwardwith a cry of anguish.
The boy turned, but too late. Directly in front he heard the suddenshouts of other Indians. The river at his back! Flight down itscement-like bank was impossible. He might plunge forward and praythat the water was beneath.
The death cry of the man he had shot and the echoing yells of theIndians behind him had been taken up by others. He knew thedetermined savages were making a final rush. Indian cries seemed tocome from the very ground at his feet. He hesitated no lodger.
As he turned to the river a sudden and strange wave of cool airstruck down on him from above. Without reasoning he paused. Thatpause saved his life. In that swift moment he heard the low creakof something straining. His eyes pierced the black about him. Wasit a shadow? Something was brushing by him like a great bird asleepon the wing. Then it was on him.
"Ned?" It was only a whisper but it was enough.
"Elmer, here, quick!"
Even the whisper had brought an instant shot, but the colored boyhad hurled himself toward the voice and an instant later a strongyoung arm was about the besieged lad.
It was Ned Napier on the swaying ladder of the Cibola.
"Cut away," came the low quick order and before even the nearbybesiegers could locate the sound Bob Russell, high above, hadslashed the lashings of a bag of ballast. The big balloon sprangforward, Elmer dangling in the air, and then settled again to theearth as the desperate colored boy found the last rung of the ladderand clung fast opposite his rescuer.
"Another, another," called Ned springing up the fragile length ofthe doubly laden ladder.
A thud on the ground told where another bag of ballast had fallen.The crash of the fallen fifty-pound bag of sand probably saved theCibola. Shot after shot poured in the direction of the sound,although the Cibola, dragging forward, yet refused to rise. Elmer,at the bottom of the ladder, was helping the car onward in lowbounds by touching the ground with one foot.
Then the air craft settled again. Elmer's weight was too much. Amad thought came into the boy's brain. The Indians had located thenew invader and yells nearby told that hot pursuit was already beingmade. Then the spit, spit, of new shots showed the risk the boyshad taken. Elmer realized it. Should he hang on and endanger thelives of his friends, or should he let go?
There seemed no time to think, but the boy's hand had alreadyloosened when out of the black came the hot breath of the foremostpursuer. As the savage sprang forward Elmer's free arm gave him ablow full in the face. At the same instant the Cibola sprang upwardlike a bullet. A volley of shots rang out below, but they were toolate. The balloon had saved Elmer's life, and even before the ladhad made his way up the swaying ladder into the cabin it was athousand feet in the air.