CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
SHOWS HOW THE SEAMAN WAS SENT ON A DELICATE MISSION AND HOW HE FARED.
"Shank," said Charlie one day as they were sitting in the sunshine nearthe outlaws' cave, waiting for Dick and the scout to return to theirmid-day meal, "it seems to me that we may be detained a good while here,for we cannot leave Ralph, and it is evident that the poor fellow won'tbe able to travel for many a day--"
"If ever," interposed Shank sorrowfully.
"Well, then, I think we must send down to Bull's Ranch, to see if thereare any letters for us. I feel sure that there must be some, and thequestion arises--who are we to send?"
"_You_ must not go, Charlie, whoever goes. You are the only link inthis mighty wilderness, that connects Ralph and me with home--and hope.Weak and helpless as we are, we cannot afford to let you out of oursight."
"Well, but if I don't go I can't see my way to asking the scout to go,for he alone thoroughly understands the ways of the country and of theIndians--if any should chance to come this way. Besides, consideringthe pledge he is under to be accountable for Buck Tom, I doubt if hewould consent to go."
"The question is answered, then," said Shank, "for the only other man isDick Darvall."
"True; and it strikes me that Dick will be very glad to go," returnedCharlie with a smile of peculiar meaning.
"D'ye think he's getting tired of us, Charlie?"
"By no means. But you know he has a roving disposition, and I think hehas a sort of fondness for Jackson--the boss of the ranch."
It was found when the question was put to him, that Dick was quite readyto set out on the mission required of him. He also admitted hisfondness for Roaring Bull!
"But what if you should lose your way?" asked the scout.
"Find it again," was Dick's prompt reply.
"And what if you should be attacked by Indians?"
"Fight 'em, of course."
"But if they should be too many to fight?"
"Why, clap on all sail an' give 'em a starn chase, which is always along one. For this purpose, however, I would have to command a goodcraft so I'd expect you to lend me yours, Hunky Ben."
"What! my Polly?"
"Even so. Black Polly."
The scout received this proposal gravely, and shook his head at first,for he was naturally fond of his beautiful mare, and, besides, doubtedthe sailor's horsemanship, though he had perfect faith in his courageand discretion. Finally, however, he gave in; and accordingly, one finemorning at daybreak, Dick Darvall, mounted on Black Polly, and armedwith his favourite Winchester, revolvers, and cutlass, "set sail" downTraitor's Trap to visit his lady-love!
Of course he knew that his business was to obtain letters and gathernews. But honest Dick Darvall could not conceal from himself that hismain object was--Mary Jackson!
Somehow it has come to be supposed or assumed that a jack-tar cannotride. Possibly this may be true of the class as a whole to which Jackbelongs, but it is not necessarily true of all, and it certainly is nottrue of some. Dick Darvall was an expert horseman--though a sailor. Hehad learned to ride when a boy, before going to sea, and his after-habitof riding the "white horses" of the Norseman, did not cause him toforget the art of managing the "buckers" of the American plains. To usehis own words, he felt as much at home on the hurricane deck of aSpanish pony, as on the fo'c'sl of a man-of-war, so that the scout'sdoubt of his capacity as a rider was not well founded.
Tremendous was the bound of exultation which our seaman felt, then, whenhe found himself on the magnificent black mare, with the fresh morningair fanning his temples, and the bright morning sun glinting through acut in the eastern range.
Soon he reached the lower end of the valley, which, being steep, he haddescended with tightened rein. On reaching the open prairie he gave themare her head and went off with a wild whoop like an arrow from a bow.
Black Polly required neither spur nor whip. She possessed thatcharmingly sensitive spirit which seems to receive an electric shockfrom its rider's lightest chirp. She was what you may call an anxiouslywilling steed, yet possessed such a tender mouth that she could bepulled up as easily as she could be made to go. A mere child could haveridden her, and Dick found in a few minutes that a slight check wasnecessary to prevent her scouring over the plains at racing speed. Herestrained her, therefore, to a grand canter, with many a stride andbound interspersed, when such a thing as a rut or a little bush came inher way.
With arched neck, glistening eyes, voluminous mane, and flowing tail sheflew onward, hour after hour, with many a playful shake of the head, andan occasional snort, as though to say, "This is mere child's play; _do_let me put on a spurt!"
It may not be fair to credit such a noble creature with talking, or eventhinking, slang, but Dick Darvall clearly understood her to saysomething of the sort, for after a while he reduced speed to a kind ofindia-rubber walk and patted her neck, saying--
"No, no, lass, you mustn't use up your strength at the beginning. We'vegot a longish trip before us, Polly, an' it won't do to clap on all sailat the beginnin' of the voyage."
At David's store Dick stopped for a short time to obtain a littlerefreshment for himself and Polly. There he found a group of cow-boysdiscussing the affairs of their neighbours, and enlarging noisily onthings in general under the brain-clearing and reason-inspiringinfluence of strong drink! To these he recounted briefly the incidentsof the recent raid of the troops into Traitor's Trap, and learned thatJake the Flint had "drifted south into Mexico where he was plying thetrade of cattle and horse stealer, with the usual accompaniments of thatprofession--fighting, murdering, drinking, etcetera." Some of the deedsof this notorious outlaw, as narrated by the cow-boy Crux, who happenedto be there, made the blood of Dick run cold--and Dick's blood was noteasily made to run otherwise than naturally by any one--except, ofcourse, by Mary Jackson, who could at all events make it run hot, alsofast or slow, very much according to her own sweet will!
But the seaman had no time to lose. He had still a long way to go, andthe day was advancing. Remounting Black Polly he was soon out again onthe prairie, sweeping over the grassy waves and down into the hollowswith a feeling of hilarious jollity, that was born of high health,good-nature, pleasant circumstances, and a free-and-easy mind.
Nothing worthy of particular notice occurred after this to mar thepleasure of our sailor's "voyage" over the prairie until he reached abelt of woodland, through which for half a mile he had to travel. Herehe drew rein and began to traverse the bit of forest at a quiet amble,partly to rest Polly, and partly that he might more thoroughly enjoy thewoodland scenery through the umbrageous canopy of which the sun wassending his slanting rays and covering the sward with a confusedchequer-work of green and gold.
And here Dick Darvall became communicative; entered into conversation,so to speak, with himself. After a few minutes, however, this did notprove a sufficient outlet to his exuberant spirits.
"Come, Dick," he exclaimed, "give us a song. Your voice ain't, perhaps,much to speak of as to quality, but there's no end of quantity. Strikeup, now; what shall it be?"
Without replying to the question he struck up "Rule Britannia" in tonesthat did not justify his disparaging remark as to quality. He reachedthe other end of the wood and the end of the song at the same time."Britons," shouted he with unalterable determination--"Never, never,ne-ever, shall be--Redskins!"
This unnatural termination was not an intentional variation. It was theresult of a scene that suddenly burst upon his view.
Far away on the prairie two riders were seen racing at what he wouldhave styled a slant away from him. They were going at a pace thatsuggested fleeing for life.
"Redskins--arter somethin'," murmured Dick, pulling up, and shading hiseyes from the sun with his right hand, as he gazed earnestly at the tworiders.
"No-n-no. They're whites," he continued, "one o' them a man; t'other awoman. I can make that out, anyhow."
As he spoke, the racing riders topped
a far-off knoll; halted, andturned round as if to gaze back towards the north--the direction fromwhich they had come. Then, wheeling round as if in greater haste thanever, they continued their headlong gallop and disappeared on the otherside of the knoll.
Dick naturally turned towards the north to see, if possible, what thetwo riders were flying from. He was not kept long in doubt, for justthen a band of horsemen was seen topping the farthest ridge in thatdirection, and bearing down on the belt of woodland, along the edge ofwhich they galloped towards him.
There was no mistaking who they were. The war-whoop, sounding faint andshrill in the distance, and the wild gesticulations of the riders, toldthe story at once to our seaman--two pale-faces, pursued by a band ofbloodthirsty savages!
Unskilled though he was in backwoods warfare, Dick was not unfamiliarwith war's alarms, nor was he wanting in common sense. To side with theweaker party was a natural tendency in our seaman. That the pursuerswere red, and the pursued white, strengthened the tendency, and the factthat one of the latter was a woman settled the question. Instantly Dickshook the reins, drove his unarmed heels against the sides of Polly, andaway they went after the fugitives like a black thunderbolt, if there besuch artillery in nature!
A wild yell told him that he was seen.
"Howl away, ye land lubbers!" growled Dick. "You'll have to fill yoursails wi' a stiffer breeze than howlin' before ye overhaul this herecraft."
Just then he reached the crest of a prairie billow, whence he could seethe fugitives still far ahead of him. Suddenly a suspicion entered theseaman's mind, which made his heart almost choke him. What if thisshould be Mary Jackson and her father? Their relative size countenancedthe idea, for the woman seemed small and the man unusually large.
In desperate haste Dick now urged on his gallant steed to her best pace,and well did she justify the praises that had been often bestowed on herby Hunky Ben. In a very brief space of time she was close behind thefugitives, and Dick was now convinced that his suspicions as to who theywere was right. He rode after them with divided feelings--tremblinglyanxious lest Mary should fall into the hands of their ruthless foes--exultantly glad that he had come there in time to fight, or die if needbe, in her defence.
Suddenly the male fugitive, who had only glanced over his shoulder fromtime to time, pulled up, wheeled round, and quickly raised his rifle.
"Hallo! get on, man; don't stop!" Dick yelled, in a voice worthy ofBull himself. Taking off his hat he waved it violently above his head.As he spoke he saw the woman's arm flash upwards; a puff of smokefollowed, and a bullet whistled close over his head.
Next moment the fugitives had turned and resumed their headlong flight.A few more minutes sufficed to bring Dick and the black mare alongside,for the latter was still vigorous in wind and limb, while the poor jadedanimals which Mary and her father rode were almost worn out by aprolonged flight.
"Dick Darvall," exclaimed Jackson, as the former rode up, "I never wasgladder to see any man than I am to see you this hour, though but for myMary I'd surely have sent you to kingdom come. Her ears are better thanmine, you see. She recognised the voice an' knocked up my rifle just asI pulled the trigger. But I'm afeared it's too late, lad."
The way in which the man said this, and the look of his pale haggardface, sent a thrill to the heart of Dick.
"What d'ye mean?" he said, looking anxiously at Mary, who with a setrigid expression on her pale face was looking straight before her, andurging her tired pony with switch and rein.
"I mean, lad, that we've but a poor chance to reach the ranch wi' suchknocked-up brutes as these. Of course we can turn at bay an' kill asmany o' the red-devils as possible before it's all over wi' us, but whatgood would that do to Mary? If we could only check the varmins, theremight be some hope, but--"
"Jackson!" exclaimed the seaman, in a firm tone, "I'll do my best tocheck them. God bless you, Mary--good-bye. Heave ahead, now, fullswing!"
As he spoke, Dick pulled up, while the others continued their headlongflight straight for the ranch, which was by the only a few milesdistant.
Wheeling round, Dick cantered back to the knoll over which they had justpassed and halted on the top of it. From this position he could see theband, of about fifty Indians, careering towards him and yelling withsatisfaction, for they could also see him--a solitary horseman--clearcut against the bright sky.
Dick got ready his repeating rifle. We have already mentioned the factthat he had learned to load and fire this formidable weapon with greatrapidity, though he had signally failed in his attempts to aim with it.Being well aware of his weakness, he made up his mind in his presentdesperate extremity not to aim at all! He had always felt that thedifficulty of getting the back and front sights of the rifle tocorrespond with the object aimed at was a slow, and, in his case, animpossible process. He therefore resolved to simply point his weaponand fire!
"Surely," he muttered to himself even in that trying moment, "surely Ican't altogether miss a whole bunch o' fifty men an' horses!"
He waited until he thought the savages were within long range, and then,elevating his piece a little, fired.
The result justified his hopes. A horse fell dead upon the plain, andits owner, although evidently unwounded, was for the time _hors decombat_.
True to his plan, Dick kept up such a quick continuous fire, and made somuch noise and smoke, that it seemed as if a whole company of riflemenwere at work instead of one man, and several horses on the plaintestified to the success of the pointing as compared with the aimingprinciple!
Of course the fire was partly returned, and for a time the stout seamanwas under a pretty heavy rain of bullets, but as the savages fired whilegalloping their aim was necessarily bad.
This fusillade had naturally the effect of checking the advance of theIndians--especially when they drew near to the reckless man, who, whenthe snap of his rifle told that his last cartridge was off, wheeledabout and fled as fast as Black Polly could lay hoofs to the plain.
And now he found the value of the trustworthy qualities of his steed,for, instead of guiding her out of the way of obstacles, he gave her herhead, held tight with his legs, and merely kept an eye on the ground infront to be ready for any swerve, bound, or leap, that might beimpending. Thus his hands were set free to re-charge the magazine ofhis rifle, which he did with deliberate rapidity.
The truth is, that recklessness has a distinct tendency to producecoolness. And there is no one who can afford to be so deliberate, andof whom other men are so much afraid, as the man who has obviously madeup his mind to die fighting.
While Dick was loading-up, Black Polly was encouraged by voice and heelto do her best, and her best was something to see and remember! Whenthe charging was finished, Dick drew rein and trotted to the next knollhe encountered, from which point he observed with some satisfaction thatthe fugitives were still pressing on, and that the distance between themand their foe had slightly increased.
But the seaman had not much time to look or think, for the band ofRedskins was drawing near. When they came within range he again openedfire. But this time the savages divided, evidently with the intentionof getting on both sides of him, and so distracting his attention. Heperceived their object at once, and reserved his fire until they turnedand with frantic yells made a simultaneous dash on him right and left.Again he waited till his enemies were close enough, and then opened fireright and left alternately, while the Indians found that they hadoutwitted themselves and scarcely dared to fire lest the opposite bandsshould hit each other.
Having expended the second supply of ammunition, Dick wheeled round andtook to flight as before. Of course the mare soon carried him out ofrange, and again he had the satisfaction of observing that the fugitiveshad increased their distance from the foe.
"One more check o' this kind," thought Dick, "and they'll be safe--Ithink."
While thus thinking he was diligently re-charging, and soon cantered tothe top of a third knoll, where he resolved
to make his final stand.The ranch was by that time dimly visible on the horizon, and the wearyfugitives were seen struggling towards it. But Dick found, on haltingand looking back, that the Indians had changed their tactics. Insteadof directing their attention to himself, as on the previous occasions,they had spread out to the right and left and had scattered, besideskeeping well out of range.
"What are the sinners up to now?" muttered the seaman in someperplexity.
He soon perceived that they meant to go past him altogether, ifpossible, and head towards the fugitives in separate groups.
"Ay, but it's _not_ possible!" exclaimed Dick, answering his ownthoughts as he turned swiftly, and stretched out after his friends.Seeing this, the savages tried to close in on him from both sides, buttheir already winded ponies had no chance against the grand Mexicanmare, which having been considerately handled during the day's journeywas comparatively fresh and in full vigour.
Shooting ahead he now resolved to join his friends and a feeling oftriumph began to rise within his breast as he saw them pushing steadilyonward. The ranch, however, was still at a considerable distance, whilethe Indians were rapidly gaining ground.
At that moment to Dick's horror, the pony which Mary Jackson rodestumbled and fell, sending its rider over its head. But the fair Mary,besides being a splendid horsewoman, was singularly agile and quick inperception. For some time she had anticipated the catastrophe, and, atthe first indication of a stumble, leaped from the saddle and actuallyalighted on her feet some yards ahead. Of course she fell with someviolence, but the leap broke her fall and probably saved her neck. Shesprang up instantly, and grasping the reins, tried to raise her pony.It was too late. The faithful creature was dead.
Jackson, pulling up, wheeled round and was back at her side instantly.Almost at the same moment Dick Darvall came up, threw the mare almost onher haunches, leaped from the saddle, and ran to Mary. As he did so,the crash of a pistol shot at his ear almost deafened him, and a glanceshowed him that Jackson had shot his horse, which fell dead close to hisdaughter's pony.
"Kill your horse, Dick," he growled sharply, as he exerted his greatstrength to the utmost, and dragged the haunches of his own steed closeto the head of the other. "It's our only chance."
Dick drew his revolver, and aimed at the heart of Black Polly, but forthe soul of him he could not pull the trigger.
"No--I won't!" he cried, grasping the lasso which always hung at thesaddle-bow. "Hobble the fore-legs!"
There was such determination in the sailor's command, that Jackson feltbound to obey. At the same moment Dick bound the horse's hind-legs. Hefully understood what Jackson intended, and the latter was as quick toperceive the seaman's drift. Seizing the reins, while his friend caughthold of the lasso, Dick cried, "Out o' the way, Mary!" and with a mightyeffort the two men threw the mare on her side.
"First-rate!" cried Jackson, while his companion held down the animal'shead. "It couldn't have dropped better. Jump inside, Mary, an' liedown flat behind your pony. Let Mary have the reins, Dick. She knowshow to hold its head down without showin' herself."
Even while he was speaking, Jackson and Dick leaped into the triangle ofhorses thus formed, and, crouching low, disappeared from the sight ofthe savages, who now came on yelling with triumph, for they evidentlythought themselves sure of their victims by that time.
"Are ye a good shot, Dick?" asked Jackson, as he gazed sternly at theapproaching foe.
"No--abominably bad."
"Fire low then. You may catch the horses if ye miss the Redskins.Anyhow you'll hit the ground if you aim low, an' it's wonderful whatexecution a bullet may do arter hittin' mother Earth."
"I never aim," replied the sailor. "Only a waste o' time. I just pointstraight an' fire away."
"Do it, then," growled roaring Bull, with something that sounded like ashort laugh.
At the same moment he himself took quick aim at the foe and fired; theleading horse and man immediately rolled upon the plain.
As both men were armed with repeating rifles the fusillade was rapid,and most of the savages, who seldom fight well in the open, wererepulsed. But several of them, headed apparently by their chief, rodeon fearlessly until within pistol-shot.
Then the two defenders of this peculiar fortress sprang up withrevolvers in each hand.
"Lie close, Mary," cried Jackson as he fired, and the chief's horserolled over, almost reaching their position with the impetus of thecharge. The chief himself lay beside his horse, for another shot hadended his career. As two other horses had fallen, the rest of the bandwheeled aside and galloped away, followed by a brisk fire from the whitemen, who had again crouched behind their breast-work and resumed theirrifles.
Bullets were by that time flying over them in considerable numbers, forthose Indians who had not charged with their chief had, after retiringto a safe distance, taken to firing at long range. At this work Dick'srifle and straight pointing were of little use, so he reserved his firefor close quarters, while Jackson, who was almost a certain shot ataverage ranges, kept the savages from drawing nearer.
"Lie closer to the pony, Miss Mary," said Dick, as a shot passed closeover the girl and whistled between him and his comrade. "Were you hurtin the fall?"
"No, not in the least. Don't you think they'll hear the firing at theranch, father?"
"Ay, lass, if there's anybody to hear it, but I sent the boys out thismornin' to hunt up a bunch o' steers that have drifted south amongWilson's cattle, an' I fear they've not come back yet. See, thereptiles are goin' to try it again!"
As he spoke, the remnant of the Redskins who pressed home the firstcharge, having held a palaver, induced the whole band to make anotherattempt, but they were met with the same vigour as before--a continuousvolley at long range, which emptied several saddles, and then, when theplucky men of the tribe charged close, the white men stood up, asbefore, and plied them with revolvers so rapidly that they were fain towheel aside and retire.
"Ammunition's gettin' low," said Dick, in an anxious tone.
"Then I'll waste no more," growled Jackson, "but only fire when I'm safeto hit."
As he spoke a distant cheer was heard, and, looking back, they saw, witha rebound of hope, that a band of five or six cow-boys were coming fromthe ranch and galloping full swing to the rescue. Behind them, a fewseconds later, appeared a line of men who came on at a swinging trot.
"Troopers, I do believe!" exclaimed Jackson.
"Thank God!" said Mary, with a deep sigh of relief as she sat up to lookat them. The troopers gave a cheer of encouragement as they thunderedpast to the attack, but the Indians did not await the onset. At thefirst sight of the troops they fled, and in a few minutes pursued andpursuers alike were out of sight--hidden behind the prairie waves.
"I can't tell you how thankful I am that I didn't shoot the mare," saidDick, as they unfastened the feet of Black Polly and let her rise. "I'dnever have been able to look Hunky Ben in the face again arter it."
"Well, I'm not sorry you spared her," said Jackson; "as for the two thatare dead, they're no great loss--yet I've a kind o' regret too, for thepoor things served us well."
"Faithfully--even to death," added Mary, in a sorrowful tone as shestooped to pat the neck of her dead pony.
"Will you mount, Miss Mary, and ride home?" asked the sailor.
"Thank you--no, I'd rather walk with father. We have not far to gonow."
"Then we'll all walk together," said Jackson.
Dick threw Black Polly's bridle over his arm, and they all set off at asmart walk for the ranch of Roaring Bull, while the troops and cow-boyschased the Redskins back into the mountains whence they had come.