CHAPTER IV.
ON THE WATCH.
For fully half an hour poor old Pike remained there at his post ofobservation, every now and then vainly scanning the plateau through hisfield glass. Meantime he was talking over the situation to himself. "Thejig is up now. I've got to go back to camp presently. I'll have to tellthem the captain is still away and that I have no idea where he hasgone. I might just as well make a clean breast of it and admit thatManuelito has deserted and gone off with the mules, and that the old man(for by this half-endearing appellative the soldiers often spoke oftheir captain) is in pursuit. I don't suppose he found their trail untilbroad daylight anyhow." Then he looked back towards the nook in whichhis precious charges were doubtless impatiently awaiting his return. Hecould just see the top of the ambulance over the ledge of rock that hidit from the road. "Jim is just giving them his breakfast about thistime," he went on with his self-communion. "They could not eat anothermouthful if I were to go back now with my bad news. Better wait untilthey've had a square meal before I tell them. They can bear it betterthen."
Still the stout-hearted veteran would not give up hope. Again he sweptthe road with his glass, searching wistfully for some little dust cloudor other sign of coming horseman across the wide, open plateau, but allwas silence and desolation, and, at last, feeling that he must go backto camp and get something to eat, he shouldered his rifle and went downthe hill, his heart heavy as lead.
Of course it was still possible for him to hitch up the team and make arun for it, with Kate and the children, for Sunset Crossing, but he feltconfident that neither Kate nor little Ned would listen to such aproject if it involved leaving the captain behind. There was yet achance of his old commander's returning in time. Although he was not tobe seen anywhere over the twenty-mile stretch towards Jarvis Pass it wasall the more probable that he might have found Manuelito's trail leadinginto the mountains north or south of the gorge in which they were nowhiding. The Mexican had long been employed in the pack train and hadbeen up through this range towards Chevelon Fork--he had heard him sayso. Very probably, therefore, he had struck out for the old "short cut"back to the Verde. It was impracticable for wagons but easy enough formules--and it lay, so Pike judged, ten or fifteen miles south of thePass. The very thing! It would be the most natural course for him tofollow since the signal fire west of Snow Lake had showed them theevening previous that the Indians were on their trail. Doubtless thecaptain had reasoned it out on the same line and ridden southward alongthe western base of the range until he had overtaken his treacherousemploye. A huge shoulder of the mountain shut off the view in thatdirection, but the theory seemed so probable to Pike that his spiritsbegan to rise again as he struck the road Why! It might readily be thatat this moment the captain was not more than a mile or two away, andhurrying back, fast as the mules would let him, to join the loved oneswhom he had left at camp.
"It's a theory worth banking on for an hour or two at least," said Piketo himself. "By Jinks! I'll swear to it as long as it can possibly holdgood. There's no use in letting them worry their hearts out--those poorlittle kids. God be with us and help me to bring them safely through!"And so, much comforted in spirit, the old trooper--half New EnglandPuritan, half wild frontiersman--strode briskly down the road,determined that he would make no move for the Colorado until he knewfrom the evidence of his own eyes that the Apaches were coming inpursuit.
The shortest way from Jarvis Pass to the point where they now layresting, was by way of the road along which they had come the nightbefore, on both sides of which, as has been said, the country laycomparatively clear and open for miles to both north and south. Pikefelt certain that with the aid of his glass he could see the Indiansalmost as soon as they got out upon the plain and while still many along mile away. Then there would be abundant time to bundle theirsupplies into the ambulance, run it back to the road, stow Kate and thechildren safely in the interior and whip up for "the Chiquito," leavingtheir pursuers far behind. What a mercy it is, thought Pike, that theseTontos have no horses! The captain, too, he argued, even if he had notstarted before, would have an eye on that road wherever he was, andwould gallop for camp the moment he saw the distant signs of the comingfoe.
Even as he trudged along, whistling loudly now by way of conveying anidea of jollity to the anxious little party at the ambulance, Pike'skeen eyes were scanning the mountain sides. North of the Pass the grounddid not begin to rise to any extent until fully half a mile away, butsouthward the ascent began almost at the roadside and was so steep as tobe in places almost precipitous. A thick growth of scrub oak, cedar andjuniper covered the mountain and here and there a tall tree shot up likesome leafy giant among its humbler neighbors; and, standing boldly outon the very point where the heights turned southward, was a verticalledge of solid rock. Pike stopped instantly. "Now that's a watch-toweras is a watch-tower!" he exclaimed. "I'll scramble up and have a lookfrom there before I do another thing." So saying he left the road andpushing his way among the stunted trees and over rocks and bowlders hesoon began a moderately steep climb. Long accustomed to mountainscouting, the craft of the old Indian fighter was manifest in his everymovement. He carefully avoided bending or breaking the merest twig amongthe branches, and in stepping he never set foot on turf or soft earth,but skipped from rock to rock, wherever possible, so as to leave no"sign" behind him. It was more a matter of habit than because hebelieved it necessary to conceal his trail from the Indians in thiscase. No human being on earth can follow an enemy, like an Apache; abent twig, a flattened bit of sod, even a tiny impression in the loosesand or rocky surface will catch his eye in an instant, and tell himvolumes. Pike knew well that there was no such thing as hiding the trailof his party, and thinking of them he stopped to take breath and lookdown. Their little fastness was hidden from him by the trees, but hecould see the baggage wagon down in the road, and, being unwilling tohave Kate and the little ones worrying about his long continued absence,he set up a loud and cheery shout.
"Hullo--o--o Jim!"
Jim's voice came back on the instant. "What d'you want?"
"Just save a little breakfast for the captain and me, will you? We'll behungry as wolves when we get in."
"Is papa there?" piped up little Ned in his childish treble.
"No--he's down around the west side. He'll be in presently. I look forhim every minute. He's all right, Ned."
"Where you at?" shouted Jim again in his southern vernacular.
"Up here on the hill. I'm going a piece farther to look at a big rock.I'll be down in ten or twenty minutes."
And so having cheered and re-assured them, Pike pushed on again. A fewminutes' sharp climbing brought him to the base of the ledge whichproved to be far bigger and higher than he had supposed, and all thebetter for his purpose. Clambering to the top he could hardly repress ashout of exultation. Not only had he now a commanding view of all theplateau over to the ridge through which wound Jarvis Pass, but he couldeven see over beyond towards Snow Lake, while northward for severalmiles the western foothills of the range were open to his view. It wasby long odds the best lookout he could have found and he only regrettedthat his view southward was still shut off. Adjusting his binocular heagain gazed long and carefully over all the plain and especially alongthe western edge of the range to the north, but the search was fruitlessas before. Not a living, moving object was in sight.
Finding an easy descent on the side farthest from camp and opposite thaton which he had clambered to the top Pike half slid, half swung himselfto the base again, and there he came upon a sight that filled his soulwith joy. From base to summit the ledge was probably fifty feet inheight and was so far tilted over on the western side as to have anoverhang of at least fifteen. More than this, there was a great cleftnear the base and an excavation or hollow running inwards and downwards,perhaps fifteen feet more. Pike went in to explore, and, to his farthersatisfaction, found a "tank" where the water had gathered from themelting snows and in the rainy season. He tasted it and found it coola
nd fresh, and then, sprawling at full length, he drank eagerly.
"What a find!" he almost shouted, with glee. "We can store Kate and thechildren back in there, throw up a little barrier of rock at the frontwith loopholes for our rifles. Not a bullet or arrow can reach us fromany direction except the tops of those trees yonder, and God help theTonto that tries to climb 'em. And, even if the captain don't come, byJinks! we can stand off all the Apaches in Arizona. It won't be morethan three days before Al Sieber will be galloping out with a swarm ofthe old boys at his back, and if Jim and I, in such a fort as this,can't lick Es-Kirninzin and his whole gang, call me a 'dough boy!'"
The more he explored, the better was Pike pleased with the situation,and in five minutes he had made up his mind what to do. The little nookin which the party had been hiding was all very well for the night and agood refuge for the horses as well as the human beings, but in broaddaylight the Indians would have no difficulty in finding and surroundingit, and there was hardly any space within its rocky walls which would besafe from bullet or arrow when once the assailants got up the hillside.Here, however, they could stand a siege with almost perfect safety. Fromabove or from the flanks the Indians could not reach them at all, and ifthey attacked from the front--up hill--nothing but a simultaneous andpreconcerted rush of the whole band could succeed, and Pike knew theApache well enough to feel secure against that possibility.
Now it was possible to wait for the captain indefinitely. If he got backin abundant time for them to load up and push out for the ColoradoChiquito before the Indians reached the Pass--well and good. If he didnot--well, thought Pike, from here I can see the scoundrels when theyare still miles away, and all we've got to do is stock this cave withblankets, provisions and ammunition, build our breastwork and let 'emcome. "With Kate and the kids out of harm's way, back in that hole, Iwouldn't ask anything better than to have those whelps of Tontos trailus up here and then attempt to rout us out. We'd make some of 'em sickIndians; wouldn't we, old girl?" wound up the ex-corporal apostrophizinghis Henry rifle.
Greatly elated over his discovery, Pike went scrambling down the rockyhillside in the direction of camp. He no longer took any precautionsabout concealing his "trail." He well knew that in the two or threetrips it would take to bring their stores and then Kate and the childrenup to the cave, such "signs" would be left that the Apaches could followwithout the faintest hesitation.
Five minutes brought him into the midst of his charges, and here for amoment the stout-hearted soldier was well nigh unmanned. Instantly hewas besieged with eager and anxious inquiry about papa, and poor littleNellie, who had come running eagerly forward when she heard his cheeryvoice, looked wistfully beyond him in search of her father, and seeingat last that Pike had come alone, she clasped her little arms about hisknees and, looking imploringly up in his face, burst into tears andbegged him, amid her sobs, to say why papa did not come. Bending down,he raised her in his strong arms and hugged her tight to his heart.
BENDING DOWN HE RAISED HER IN HIS STRONG ARMS.]
"Don't cry, little sweetheart," he plead. "Don't worry, pet. Papa isn'tfar away. He's coming soon and I've got such a beautiful playhouse foryou and Ned and Kate up there on the hill. We won't go up just now, forwe all want to be here to give papa his breakfast when he comes in. Andmy! how hungry I am, Nellie! Won't you give old Pike some coffee now,and some bacon and _frijoles_?"
Nellie, like a little woman, strove to dry her tears and minister to thewants of her staunch old friend, the corporal. Ned manfully repressedhis own anxiety and helped to comfort his little sister, but Kateretired behind the ambulance and wept copiously. She knew that somethingmust be wrong. No mere matter of a mule astray would keep the captainfrom "the childer" all this long while. Black Jim had set the coffee potand skillet again on the coals and in a few moments had a breakfastpiping hot, all ready for the present camp commander who, meantime,slung aside his slouch hat and neck-handkerchief, rolled up his sleevesand was giving himself a plentiful sluicing of cold water from one ofthe "tanks" below them. Then, as he went up to take his rations, he sungout gaily to Ned:
"Here, Ned, my boy. We ought to have a sentry posted to present arms tothe captain when he comes in. Get your rifle and mount guard until I getthrough here." And Ned, proud to be so employed, and out in the Indiancountry, too, was presently pacing up and down on the side nearest theroad, with all the gravity and importance of a veteran soldier.
Pike made great pretence of having a tremendous appetite and made littleNell help him to coffee twice, refusing to take sugar except from herhand. Once during his repast, poor old Kate came forth from behind theambulance, and with her apron to her eyes slowly approached them, butthe trooper sternly warned her back, saying no word but pointingsignificantly to the ambulance. He did not mean to have the little onesupset by the nurse's lamentations. His "square meal" finished, he askedNellie to see to the breakfast for her father being carefully kept inreadiness and then, sauntering off towards the road, called Jim tofollow him.
Then, while they were apparently examining the bolts of the baggagewagon, he gave the darkey his instructions.
"Jim, I don't know when the captain will get back or how far he's gone,but I haven't a dread or fear of any kind now. Up there where you seethat big gray rock I've found a cave that is the most perfect defensiveposition I ever saw. No bullet can reach it from any point, and on thecontrary, from the mouth of the cave, we command the whole hillside. Nowif those Apaches are bound to follow, they ought to be along here aboutnoon. If the captain gets here in plenty of time we'll pull out for theChiquito. If he doesn't I mean to move the whole outfit up to the cave.I want you now to roll and strap all the blankets; to get the provisionsand everything of that kind in shape so that we can easily 'pack' them,then I'm going back to the top of the rock to keep a look out. I can seeway beyond Jarvis Pass, and if the Indians are following I'll spot thembefore they get within ten miles of us. See?"
Quarter of an hour later Pike was once more on the top of the rock.First he glanced at his watch. Just nine o'clock. Then he sprawled atfull length upon the blanket he had brought with him, levelled hisglasses and, resting his elbows on the rock, gazed long and earnestlyover the winding road. Presently he sat up, whipped off the red silkhandkerchief about his neck, carefully wiped the eye and object glassesof his binocular and his own tired old eyes and, once more prone on hisstomach, gazed again; then twisted the screw a trifle as though to get abetter focus; gazed still another time; lowered the glass; rose to hisknees, his eyes gleaming brilliantly and his teeth setting hard; oncemore levelled the glass and looked with all his soul in his eyes andthen slowly let the faithful binocular fall to the blanket by his sideas he spoke aloud:
"By Jove! They're coming."