CHAPTER XV
THE CRY OF THE JAY
Up to the point to which Kiddie had tracked him, Rube Carter had doneprecisely what Kiddie had conjectured he would do. He had reached theeagles' eyrie just as the mist began to envelop him and cut off hisdirect retreat.
He had not deliberately startled the birds to flight. The male hadbeen perched like a faithful sentinel on a point of rock, above hismate sitting on her eggs. Rube had a long, close view of the pair ofthem, and had watched without molesting them. But presently he had theboyish idea that it would be interesting to see and count their eggs,and take note of how their nest was lined.
Cautiously he approached the nest, moving very slowly and stealthily.But the guardian male resented this bold intrusion, and attacked himwith beak and talons and fiercely-flapping wings.
Rube drew his revolver, but did not shoot. He used the weapon only asa club with which to defend himself, while he sheltered his body fromthe assault by crouching low, with his back wedged in a cleft of rock.
The eagle pursued him there and glared at him menacingly. He had whathe afterwards called a grand sight of the bird's wonderful clear eyes,its hooked beak, and its wicked-looking claws, and he marvelled at theenormous stretch of its pinions.
Once it made a dash at him, spreading itself close against the wall ofrock, covering him like a cloak. He thrust out his free hand to grabat one of its legs, but, missing the leg, he seized hold of its tail,pulling out three of the long white plumes. He crouched still closerin his shelter, where neither beak nor talon could touch him. And soonthe eagle drew off.
When at length he raised his head to investigate, he saw the two birdsrising through the misty air and flying off together over the mountains.
Rain was now falling heavily, and the mist was thickening. He heardthe whisper of the mountain streams growing louder and louder until itbecame a deep, prolonged murmur. Quite near to him a torrent of brown,foaming water was rushing and leaping down the steep.
Rube knew it would be futile to attempt to return to camp beforedaybreak. He judged that Kiddie would understand his absence and notworry unduly. So he ate what food he had brought in his haversack,and, regardless of the driving rain, curled himself up to try to sleep.
Once during the long, uncomfortable night he heard from afar, orfancied that he heard, Kiddie's familiar, penetrating whistle. He knewthat his own comparatively feeble whistle in response would not carryfar enough to be even faintly heard. There were no means by which hecould send back an answering signal. No fire smoke or fitful glowcould be seen, no cry or call be heard.
Later in the night, when the moon broke through the clouds, he againvery faintly caught the sound of Kiddie's whistle; so faintly that hecould not distinguish the notes which he believed were being sent forthas a message in the Morse code.
Rube held his breath and listened; but all that he heard now to breakthe silence of the vast desolation was the weird howl of some far awaykoshinee--the dreaded buffalo wolf of the prairies.
When the rain had ceased, and the black mountain peaks could be seenagainst the lesser blackness of the sky, he still thought it prudent toremain where he was.
One of the last things that Kiddie had said to him was: "Be careful.Don't hurry; don't worry," and, rather than risk a climb up the wet andslippery rocks, he again curled himself up and closed his eyes in sleep.
The red dawn was breaking when he awoke shivering with cold. Hisbuckskin clothes were wet and clammy, and his limbs were stiff.
He sat up and looked about him.
The two eagles had returned and were exactly as he had seen them atfirst, the male keeping sentry on the point of rock above his nestedmate. The mountain torrents still babbled. On the farther side of thecanyon was a beautiful waterfall as white as chalk against the indigodarkness of the cliff down which it leapt into the unseen depths. Thejagged shapes of the mountains were now exceedingly clear, showing alpabove alp into the far blue distance.
Rube was excessively hungry. And there was nothing for him to eat,unless indeed he had chosen to make a meal of a fragment of rabbitflesh that had fallen from the eagles' nest.
"Wonder what Kiddie's havin' for breakfast!" he said to himselflongingly. "Fried kidney, I expect, outer that stag he shot. Guesshe'll be worryin' some 'bout my not bein' back in camp yet. I'd bestquit an' get back right away. No; I ain't goin' back the way I come.I'm figurin' as th' easiest an' safest way's ter climb up higher an'then make tracks across Lone Wolf Mountain an' down to the lake.That's what Kiddie'd do, I reckon."
He looked upward, calculating his direction. Before he moved away hepicked up his eagle plumes. He had been lying on them; theirfeathering was ruffled and their quills were fractured. Still, theywere worth preserving as trophies of his adventure.
The ascent of the cliff was not difficult, though at first he made twoor three awkward slips on the wet moss and lichen. After a while theclimbing became quite easy, and he reached the rounded shoulder of LoneWolf Mountain without difficulty. Here, however--as Kiddie afterwardsdiscovered--he was obliged to make a long detour in order to get to thefarther side of the mountain.
Rube started off at a brisk walk, and was in hopes of reaching campearly in the forenoon. The wild desolation of these mountain heightsoppressed him. So much so that he was startled by the cry of a jay.
He looked round, thinking it strange that such a bird should livehere--here, where there were no trees and none of the smaller animalsfor a jay to kill and feed upon.
As he turned, he saw a movement beside an outcropping rock. At thesame instant something like the buzz of a large insect sounded closeover his head. He saw an arrow strike the ground and remain upright,trembling with the impact.
Rube knew now the meaning of the jay's cry. It was not the cry of abird, but the signal call of an Indian.
He started to run in his original direction, but he had not gone morethan a hundred yards when another arrow struck his cap, taking it off.He staggered, then, taking a new direction, ran a few strides, thenstopped in hesitation, seeing an Indian rise to his knees, fixing anarrow to his bowstring.
With a quick glance Rube realized that he was surrounded, and thatthere was no way of escape, no shelter of any sort on the barrenmountain side. He drew his revolver as the Redskins closed in upon him.
Just as he was about to press the trigger, he reflected upon theinevitable consequences. They would capture him in any case; he couldnot escape. But if he killed one of their tribe they would torture himto death; whereas, if he quietly submitted, there would still be achance of his being set free and unharmed.
The Indians had already seen his pistol, however, and they did notdoubt that he intended to use it. They ran swiftly up to him. Oneapproached from behind and seized him by the arms.
Rube struggled, but was soon overpowered and flung to the ground, wherehis hands were tied to his back. What became of his cap and revolverhe did not see, for a greasy, ill-smelling rag was bound tightly overhis eyes.
They led him away, forcing him to a quick walk down the mountain side,for miles and miles, it seemed. He often stumbled on the rough ground.
Sometimes he was half-pushed, half-dragged along the rocky side of awatercourse; more than once he was led waist deep across a rushingstream that was icy cold. Then there was a steep climb up anothermountain slope and down into a farther valley.
Here the Indians came to a halt. Rube heard the movements of horses,and presently he was lifted and flung over the back of one of them. Hemanaged to get comfortably astride, in spite of his imprisoned hands.Fortunately for himself, he was a good rider and could keep his seat onthe pony's bare back without great difficulty.
All the time he was thinking less of his own position as a captive thanof Kiddie. He knew very surely that Kiddie would be anxious about him.What would he do? Would he just wait in camp in fretful annoyance?
Rube knew Kiddie pretty well by now; knew that so soon as a reasonabletime
had gone by he would judge that an accident of some kind hadcaused the delay, and would set out in search.
"Pity I didn't blaze the trail, somehow," Rube reflected. "Dessayhe'll squander heaps of valuable time lookin' fer my dead body alongthe foot of the cliffs away down in the canyon. Though I reckon he'dfoller on my tracks as far's he could. If Kiddie noticed that pair ofeagles takin' flight, he'll know it was my bein' near their nest thatscared 'em. He'll make for the nest, sure."
Rube was applying Kiddie's method of imagining himself in the otherperson's place, and, following up this process, he decided that itwould not be very long before Kiddie would get on to the track of theseIndians.