CHAPTER XXIV.
BOY SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE.
Amid wild yells from the assemblage on the farther side of the pit, theyoung brave who had attained temporary ascendency over the tribe castthe snake down on the ground before the recumbent form of the Indianagent. The reptile at first appeared dazed, and made no move, hostile orotherwise. Presently, however, as a deep hush fell over the Indiansgazing on the scene, the creature began to sound his rattle.
It was a dull, "horny" sound, like the rattling of dried peas in abladder. The veins on Mayberry's forehead swelled as he made a desperateeffort to burst his bonds, but the green hide held like iron, and herealized that all resistance was useless. Breathing a prayer, heresigned himself for what was to follow. Suddenly the serpent seemed tobecome endowed with furious rage. It lashed its mottled tail, and thencarefully gauging its distance from the captive, coiled itself for thedeath strike.
Not a sound was to be heard above the deep, expectant hush, as the redglow fell on the strange, cruel scene: the agonized man, helpless, andthe flat, triangular head of the deadly reptile, drawn back as if togive greater force to its death blow.
The Indian agent, as he had abundantly shown, was no coward, nor was hisa heart to be stirred by any ordinary ordeal. But the cruel suspensethat now ensued broke down even his iron nerves. As he gazed like afascinated bird into the leaden eyes of the menacing rattler, hiscourage faltered, and he uttered a despairing cry.
It was answered by a cruel jeer from the frenzied Indians. In the tenseexcitement none of them had, however, noticed the first moves in an actthat was destined presently to change the whole complexion of the scene.
Old Black Cloud knew that the agent's heart was wrapped up in his horse.So far as any one knew, Mayberry had neither relative nor close friendin the world. In the Indian's eyes, then, the captive would surely wishhis horse near him in the hour of his doom.
For one as skilled in silent movement as the old chief, it was an easymatter to slip from his place in the shadows at the rear of thefascinated horde, and with a couple of deft strokes of his knife setRanger at liberty. Then he silently stole back, and was seated in hisformer place in a less space of time than it took Ranger to realize thathe was free.
The captive's despairing cry reached the horse's ears, and he knew hismaster's voice.
While the mocking laugh of the tribe was still echoing from the rocks,four iron-shod hoofs struck the earth in a mighty leap, and Rangeralighted heavily in the midst of the amazed throng. With yells and criesof terror, the Indians, who did not know what had occurred, were bowledover right and left. One young brave lay groaning with a pair of brokenribs. Another's arm was snapped where Ranger's hoofs had struck.
Without pausing one instant, the animal, whose only anxiety was to reachJeffries Mayberry's side, once more shook his head and, with a shrillwhinny, sprang forward. This leap brought him over the heads of the redmen, to the very brink of the fiery pit.
Overcoming his natural dread of fire--a far greater terror to horsesthan almost any other--Ranger gathered his clean-cut limbs for a mightyleap. In one clean jump he cleared the glowing coals. Diamond Snake andhis attendant masters of ceremonies had not, in the brief space of timeallotted to them for comprehension, made out what was occurring on theopposite side of the pit.
They had not the slightest warning, therefore, when, through the luridglow, the form of Ranger, crimsoned by the reflection, came leaping likea thunderbolt.
Over went Diamond Snake, toppling backward to avoid the terrible hoofs.With a yell of superstitious terror, the other "priests" gave way.Right and left they ran, shouting that the Great Spirit had sent aninfernal messenger among them.
But above all the shrieks, and confusion, and angry shouts rang out oneterrible cry. It issued from the lips of Diamond Snake. The hind hoofsof the alighting horse had struck him, and, as has been said, he toppledbackward.
Too late he saw behind him the glowing pit of fiery coals. Nerving everymuscle in his sinewy frame, the young Moqui warrior strove to avert hisdoom, but try as he would he could not check his impetus.
He reached the edge of the pit, and with one dreadful cry pitched overbackward. For a brief space the red glow grew blackened where he hadfallen, but an instant later the intense heat had consumed him, andnothing remained to mark the end of the ambitious young Moqui.
At the moment that Ranger had alighted, the rattlesnake, terrified bythe near proximity of the trampling hoofs, released its body as if asteel spring had been set free, and gave its death strike. But as thepoison-laden fangs drove toward him, Jeffries Mayberry jerked his headto one side. The rattler had missed. Before it could gather itself for asecond attack, it lay, a trampled mass, under Ranger's hoofs. The horsewhinnied with pleasure as it gazed at its master. Then it stamped withimpatience as it received no response. For the first and last time inhis life, Jeffries Mayberry had fainted.
With a howl of rage, like the angry voice of a storm, the Moquis,gathering up their weapons, rushed forward to avenge themselves for thetragic death of Diamond Snake. But they had not reached the edge of thefiery pit before a loud cry halted them. It was Black Cloud. The oldIndian stood upright upon a bowlder, and pointed to the entrance of therocky bowl.
"Now will my brothers listen to the voice of reason?" he shouted abovethe tumult.
A chorus of jeers and shouts greeted him. The mind of the tribe was asingle one in that moment. The death of Jeffries Mayberry, in the samepit as that into which his steed had cast the popular young DiamondSnake, was their raging desire.
"Then look!" rang out the voice of Black Cloud, as he pointed to therocky path at the westerly side of the bowl.
As the eyes of the redskins followed the patriarch's pointing finger, aperfect howl went up once more. The moonlight illumined the figure of asolitary horseman.
A score of rifles were instantly leveled at him, but as the weapons cameto the marksmen's shoulders, the lone rider vanished as suddenly as hehad appeared.
"Fools!" shouted Black Cloud, as the Moquis, with cries of rage, pressedon to Jeffries Mayberry's side, "that horseman is the forerunner of thewhite man's vengeance!"
As he spoke, a rifle cracked, and the noble old chief vanished from therock. Apparently a bullet from the rifle of one of his own followers hadfelled him. But, as a matter of fact, Black Cloud, with native cunning,had perceived that in the mood his rebellious followers then were, hissafest plan was to keep out of sight. As the bullet hummed past hisear, therefore, he toppled from the rock as if dead. From behind the bigbowlder he watched the events that were to follow.
A young brave, anxious to earn the plaudits of his tribesmen by beingthe instrument of vengeance on Mayberry, rushed forward, and throwinghimself on the unconscious man, seized him by the waist and was about toswing him into the flaming pit, when, with a shrill whinny of rage,Ranger's forefeet struck him down. He lay breathing heavily, an uglywound gaping in his head. As if maddened by this, the great horseplunged, striking and kicking, into the crowd of hated Indians, bowlingover and injuring several. But the temporary panic thus created lastedbut a minute.
A volley was fired at the noble figure of the raging horse, and he fell,still fighting, by his master's side.
At the same instant a young redskin sprang forward with an uplifted"agency" axe. He raised it above his head, and was about to bury it inthe horse's skull, when something struck the axe and sent it whizzingout of his hand. Simultaneously a sharp crack sounded from the upper endof the rock bowl.
Shouts of alarm sounded on all sides. The Moquis realized they wereattacked, and that it was a bullet that had sent the axe spinning out ofthe murderous young brave's hand.
"Hooray!"
The cry rang out loudly above the Indian whoops and cries, as Rob Blakeswept down the rocky trail, followed by the Boy Scouts, cheering as iftheir throats would split.
Right and left the Moquis went down under their ponies' hoofs, tooterrified by the very suddenness of the attack to offer any res
istance.A few half-hearted shots were fired, and one or two sombreros weredrilled, but, aside from that, no one was injured. The arrival of Mr.Harkness and his cow-punchers ended what little resistance there hadbeen. It was soon over, and the Moquis herded in a sullen, defiant bandat the lower end of the bowl.
Rob and his friends hastened forward to Jeffries Mayberry's side, andcut his bonds; and the first thing that the rescued man gazed upon whenhe recovered consciousness was a circle of friendly faces.
"Well, Mayberry," burst out Mr. Harkness, "I told you so. I hate to sayit, but I told you so. If it hadn't been for the Boy Scouts here, we'dnever have saved you."
"No, I guess not, Harkness," breathed the agent, "and this is not theplace to tell you all how I feel. But, but----"
His voice faltered as he gazed at Ranger, who still lay on the ground.Blinky and some of the cow-punchers had been examining his injuries.
"Is Ranger seriously hurt?"
The agent's throat sounded dry. He could hardly bring himself to ask thequestion.
"No, he'll be around in a while," announced Blinky; "only a tendon onthe off front leg is sprained. He'll carry a few scars, though."
And so it proved, for, though Ranger was soon as well as ever, hecarried with him to his last days the marks of that night. But hisowner, as you may imagine, treasured every one of them, for each blemishspoke to him of his horse's affection and nobility.
"Hullo, here come the soldiers!" exclaimed Tubby suddenly, with thatfleshy youth's usual indifferent manner.
A bugle call and a loud cheer announced the news at the same moment.
"So they are!" exclaimed Mr. Mayberry, who by this time was standingupright, although he still had to lean weakly on the shoulder of Mr.Harkness.
"A good thing you didn't wait for them," remarked Blinky; "they'd havecome too late."
"That was not their fault," put in Mr. Harkness. "The messenger I sentto Sentinel Peak could not have reached there more than an hour or twoago. They must have ridden like the wind."
Indeed, as the bronzed troopers clattered, cheering, into the rockybasin, their steaming, dripping horses bore ample testimony to the pacethey had kept up.
"Confounded luck, arriving just too late for the music!" exclaimed theyoung officer at their head, after first greetings had been exchanged."I see, though, that you have handled the situation well."
"Yes, thanks to the Boy Scouts," said Mr. Harkness.
"Ah, that is an organization of which I have often heard," observed thesoldier. "They are destined to do great work for our country in thefuture."
"We hope so," said Rob simply.
* * * * *
Little more is left to be told of the Boy Scouts' adventures on therange. The rebellious Moquis, thoroughly cowed by their lesson, wentpeaceably back to the reservation, and accepted Black Cloud once more astheir chief. Their break from the place set aside for them, though, waspaid for by the stoppage of more than one privilege. In course of timeMr. Mayberry recovered some of his faith in the Indian character, buteven he admits that his optimism has been severely shaken.
Possibly, if you were to pay a visit to the tribe, you might be temptedto ask who a certain graceful young squaw is, whose buckskin garmentsare literally covered with wonderful bead work, and round whose slenderneck hang so many chains of red, yellow, amber and blue globules thatyou might be inclined to think it would make her stoop-shouldered.
If you asked her her name you would be told that she is Susyjan. She isregarded as the most attractive young squaw in the tribe, and herfortunate husband will have to give her old father many ponies andblankets before he can hope to win her hand. The source of Susyjan'sbeady splendor, however, has always, as you may imagine, remained amystery to the tribe.
Clark Jennings and his unworthy accomplices were tried in due course fortheir offenses against the law, and received various heavy sentences. Ina Western community few more serious crimes, for obvious reasons, canbe committed than cattle stealing.
The days following the surrender of the renegade tribe were happy onesfor the young Eastern scouts. In due course of time, the uniforms Robhad ordered for the Ranger Patrol arrived, and the organization is nowone of the most flourishing in the B. S. of A.
Hunting trips were organized and many excursions made into themountains. The boys, too, shared in the excitement of a round-up, andproved themselves of use in many ways. Altogether, the Boy Scouts hasbecome a name to conjure with in that part of Arizona.
What became of Silver Tip?
Well, the story of how Rob had Silver Tip at his mercy, and let the hugebrute go, has become a ranch classic. This is no place to relate it atlength, but one day on a mountain hunt the monarch of the hills and theboy who had once rushed wildly upon the monster's shaggy form, met faceto face.
Did Silver Tip recognize the lad? Who can tell? Animals possess manyfaculties and instincts we do not credit them with. Be that as it may,it seemed to the imaginative Rob that the monster's eyes bore a cravenlook, as if he realized that judgment was come upon him. Rob stood aloneupon a rocky ledge. Below him the great brute gazed upward, in theposition he had frozen into on his first discovery of the young hunter.Rob raised his heavy rifle to his shoulder. The great creature was athis mercy. He paused an instant and then slowly lowered the weaponagain.
"Go on, old Silver Tip!" he said. "Let some one else wipe out yourwicked old life."
Tubby was highly indignant when he heard of this.
"Gee whiz!" he exclaimed, "you ought to have thought of me, Rob. I'vebeen hearing about bear steak ever since I've been out here, and nowI've lost about the only chance I've ever had to stick my teeth intoone."
One day a letter came to the ranch house which caused several long facesto be drawn. It announced the opening, within a week, of the HamptonAcademy.
And so--as all good things have to draw to a close--the happy, eventfuldays of the Boy Scouts on the Range ended. But had they realized it, theexciting scenes through which they had passed were only a milestone intheir adventurous lives.
We shall meet our young friends again, and follow them through many morestirring incidents and scenes in the next volume of this series. Some ofthese will be connected with the wonderful new science of aerialnavigation.
This new installment of their adventures will be called: THE BOYSCOUTS AND THE ARMY AIRSHIP.
THE END.