CHAPTER V.
THE PRISONER.
What Pike saw, far over on the plateau towards Jarvis Pass would perhapshave attracted no attention from tourist or casual looker through afield glass, but to him--an old trooper, Indian fighter and mountaineer,it conveyed a world of meaning. Against the dark background of thatdistant ridge and upon the dun-colored flat along which the roadmeandered, the old corporal could just make out a number of dingy whiteobjects--mere specks--bobbing and twinkling in the blazing sunshine.Nothing of the kind had been there when he looked before and he knewonly too well what it meant. Those dirty white specks were thebreech-clouts and turbans worn by nearly all the Tonto warriors inpreference to any other head-gear or clothing,--a cheap cotton clothbeing always kept in abundant supply at the agencies solely for theiruse. Some of them, it is true, wore no turban at all, their luxuriantgrowth of coarse black hair tumbling about their shoulders and trimmedoff in a "bang" just level with their fierce, beady eyes, being all thehead covering they needed. But the breech-clout was universal and somefew even wore loose cotton shirts. These, with the moccasin and leggininvariably worn, the leggin generally in a dozen folds at the ankle,made the war toilet of the intractable Tonto. There was none of thefinery of the proud warriors of the plains--the Sioux, Cheyenne orCrow--but for all that, when those Apaches took to the war-path, thesoldiers used to say, "It meant business."
"They will be here in three hours at the rate they're coming; threeshort hours, too, for those beggars can keep up a jog trot all day long.Now for it! captain or no captain."
With that brief soliloquy Pike slid down from his perch, and for thesecond time that morning made his way down the hillside and back tocamp. Here he found Kate and the children as full of eager and anxiousinquiry about papa as before, and could only comfort them by saying thatthe mules must have run far to the south and were proving more thanordinarily obstinate about coming back. Still, he said, papa is sure tobe here before noon, and indeed he hoped, and more than half believed,that such would be the case. Knowing the danger that menaced his littleones, it could not be that the captain would not use every endeavor toget back to them before the Indians could reach the Pass.
Jim had obeyed his instructions to the letter. There were the two bigrolls of blankets, securely strapped; there were the supplies; thebacon, bread, _frijoles_, coffee, sugar, canned meats and vegetables.Even some jams and jellies for the children, together with the coffeepot, skillets, plates, cups and saucers all stowed away in the big ironkettle that hung under the wagon and in a pail or two, ready to beplumped into the ambulance if a start was to be made for the river, or"toted" up the hill if the order was to take to the cave. And then theirrepressible propensity of the negro had cropped out again. There layBlack Jim peacefully snoring in the sunshine, oblivious of all danger.
"Now, Kate, as the captain has my horse, I'm going to borrow hisawhile," said Pike. "I want to ride down the range a little way and seeif I can't help him home with the mules. You are perfectly safe here.Just as safe, at least, as you would be if I were with you. I wouldn'tgo and leave you if it were not absolutely necessary, as I believe it tobe. You'll take care of her, won't you, Ned, my boy?"
The little fellow looked up bravely. "Nellie and I aren't afraid," hesaid. "Only we do want papa to come and get something to eat. Jim toldme not to let the fire go out and I put on a little dry wood now andthen."
But Kate sat with her apron to her eyes, rocking to and fro inspeechless misery and dread, Nellie striving vainly to comfort her. Allunconscious of the coming peril, the little ones were fearless andalmost content. They had no sympathy for their old nurse's terror. Pikestopped and spoke once again to Kate before riding away, but in tenminutes, mounted on a fresh and spirited horse, with his rifle athwartthe pommel and the field glasses in their case swinging by their strapfrom his shoulder, he cantered boldly up the Pass and was soon well outupon the open plain. His idea was to ride straight out to the west alongthe road, five or six miles and more if necessary, scour the countrysouthward with the glasses in search of Captain Gwynne, and if he sawnothing of him to get near enough to the advancing Apaches to see abouthow large a party they were, then to whirl about, put spurs to hishorse, ride like the wind for camp, get Kate, the children, Jim and theblankets and provisions up to the cave and be all ready for the Tontoswhen they came. "Gregg" was curveting and prancing even now, eager for agallop, but Pike's practised hand kept him down to a moderate gait andin this way he rode steadily westward towards a distant rise in themidst of the undulating plateau, and there he felt confident he couldsee all that there was to be seen. It was just ten o'clock when hereined in at the top of a gentle ascent and unslung his glasses. Firsthe looked towards Jarvis Pass to see how far away were the enemy and howmany in number. Despite the windings of the road and occasional stuntedtrees or bushes, the first glance through the binocular placed them atonce. Yes, there they were in plain view--certainly not more than fourmiles away. Not only could he count the breech-clouts and turbans now,but the swarthy, sinewy bodies could be made out as they came bobbing attheir jog trot along the trail. "Twenty-five in that party at least,"muttered Pike, "and coming for all they're worth. But what on earth arethey bunched so for? There seems to be half a dozen in a clump, right inthe middle of the road." Long and earnestly he studied them; a strange,worried expression coming into his face. Then, just as he had done atthe rock, Pike wiped the glasses and his own eyes, and then gazed again.
"By heaven!" he muttered at last. "That's a prisoner, sure as fate, thatthey are lashing and goading along ahead of them. Who on earth can itbe? Oh, God grant it isn't the captain!" Rapidly then he swept theplateau southward, searching the foothills of the range south of thePass, his whole heart praying for some glimpse of horse and rider, butit was all unavailing. Then, with one more look at the coming foe, poorPike turned, with almost a groan of misery and anxiety, gave "Gregg" onetouch of the spur and a flip of the reins, and away he flew at fullspeed back to his duty at the Pass. One minute he reined in as he nearedthe gorge to note the direction taken by Manuelito. There were thetracks of the two mules, and running southward out across the openplain, but the captain had turned south almost the instant he had gotout from among the foothills. His trail started parallel with the range.Surely then he ought to have returned to camp by this time.
AWAY HE FLEW AT FULL SPEED.]
And now, as once again he neared the little fastness in the rocks, Pikedrew rein and rode at easy, jaunty lope down the Pass. He would notalarm his charges by hoof-beat that indicated the faintest haste. Whenhe and "Gregg" came into view no one of the anxious watchers could havedreamed for an instant that he had seen a horde of fierce Apacheshastening to overtake them.
"Just as I thought," he sung out cheerily. "The captain went right downthe range to the south and the mules strayed off across the plateau, sothey missed each other and he won't come back till he gets them. It'sall right, but I expect he's pretty hungry by this time." Then,springing from the saddle, he picked little Nell up in his arms:
"And now, baby, you want to see the beautiful house I found for you,don't you? We'll all go up and take a look at it and have lunch upthere--and lots of fun--while we wait for papa." And then with a kiss heset her down and stalked over to where Jim was still snoring in thesunshine!
"Wake up, Jim!" he cried, giving him a lively shake or two. "Wake up andgive me a lift here. Nellie wants to see her stone house."
It took some hard shaking--it generally does--to rouse the darkey fromhis slumber, but Jim presently sat up, rubbed his eyes, looked aroundhim, and then, as though suddenly recovering his faculties, sprang tohis feet.
"Unsaddle 'Gregg' and put the saddle, bridle and blanket with the otherstuff, Jim," whispered Pike. "We must take our horse equipments andharness with us. We've got to move up to the cave. No hurry, mind you.You fetch the blankets first. I'll carry Nellie."
Then calling to Ned to bring his Ballard--there were lots of squirrelsup the hill--a fiction that can
hardly have been very heavily chargedagainst him, Pike quickly lifted Nellie to his shoulders and strode offup the rocks. "You come, too, Kate. It's quite a climb but it'll do yougood," he shouted, and presently he had his whole procession strung outbehind him and clambering from bowlder to bowlder. Long before theyreached the ledge they had to let poor Kate recover breath and, afterone or two halts of this kind, Pike sent Jim ahead with the blankets andbade him come back at once and tow, push or "boost" the stout Irishwomanto their destination. At last the rock was reached, Ned and Nellieshouting with delight over the wonderful cave and speedily makingthemselves at home in its inmost recesses, Kate breathless and exhaustedand bemoaning the fates that brought her on such an uncanny trip. Theblankets were spread out on the smooth surface of the rock within thegreat, gloomy hollow. Jim was sent down for another load while Pikeclambered up to his watch-tower and took a long look with his glass. TheIndians had not yet reached the rise from which he had counted theirnumbers at ten o'clock.
In an hour more all the provisions they could need for several days,more blankets and pillows, all the arms and ammunition, all the harnessand horse equipments had been lugged up to and safely stowed in andabout the cave. "They'll burn the wagons, blast them!" muttered Pike tohimself, "but we can leave the horses there. They won't harm thembecause they will want them to get away with in case they find thecavalry on their trail. The chances are the horses can be recovered, butdarn me if I'll let 'em have saddle, bridle or harness to run offanything with." Then once more he had climbed to his post and wasdiligently watching the road, while Jim, obedient to orders, was rollingrocks and bowlders around to the opening of the cave.
"What's thim for?" demanded Kate.
"Corporal Pike's goin' to build a wall here to keep out the bears," saidJim, with lowered voice and a significant glance at the childrenprattling happily together at the back of the cave, and poor Kate knew'twas no use asking questions.
And now, through the glasses, Pike could see the Tontos gathered on thelow hillock which had been the western limit of his morning ride. Theyseemed to have come suddenly upon "Gregg's" hoof prints and to havehalted for consultation. Full half an hour they tarried there and thechildren began to clamor for the promised luncheon. Sauntering down by aroundabout way the veteran picked up an armful of dry twigs, sticks anddead boughs and tossed them down at the mouth of the cave. Then, behindthe rock, he built a small fire of the dryest twigs he could find,explaining that he didn't want smoke in the dining room, and soon hadhis skillet heating and his kettle of water at the boil. Jim wasdirected to cook all that was needed for luncheon and to have plenty forthe captain, who would be sure to come back mighty hungry in course ofthe afternoon, and the corporal was speedily at his post again. Whatcould it mean? The Tontos were still hanging about that little hill sixmiles out there on the plain. Was it possible they had abandoned thepursuit?
Noon came; one o'clock, two o'clock. They had all had luncheon, and Pikehad been scrambling up and down the rock like a monkey, and still therewas no forward movement of the foe. Every time he looked they were stilllounging or squatting, so he judged, about the stunted trees on theknoll, and there was nothing to explain the delay. It must have threeo'clock when at last the binocular told him they were again in motionand coming rapidly toward him. He could see the dirty whitebreech-clouts floating in the breeze and could almost distinguish theforms of the warriors themselves. Leaving his glass on the top of theledge he slid down to the base again, called quietly to Jim, and the twomen set to work to build their breastwork. Bowlders big and little,rocks of every possible shape and size were all around them, and inthree-quarters of an hour they had a stout parapet fully four feet high,whose loopholes commanded the approach up the hillside, and yet weresecure from fire from above, below or either flank. Then back he went tohis watch-tower.
THE TWO MEN SET TO WORK TO BUILD THEIR BREASTWORK.]
The instant he adjusted the glass and levelled it at the road, Pike gavevent to an expletive that need not be recorded here, but that indicatedin him a most unusual degree of excitement. No wonder. The Tontos werenow in plain view--only two miles and a half out there on theplain,--and though they were spread out, as a rule, to the right andleft of the road, quite a number of them came jogging along the roaditself, and right in the midst of these, led by an Indian in front andguarded by two or three in rear--were the missing mules. Even at thatdistance Pike could swear to them. On they came, rapidly, relentlessly,well knowing that even if their human prey had escaped them the bigwagon must be somewhere about the Pass and loaded still with provisions.Nearer--nearer jogged the leaders; but now the old trooper was carefullystudying a dark object on the back of the foremost mule--a pack of somekind--and marvelling what it could be,--wondering, too, what they haddone with their prisoner. He was sure they had one as they came alongthat morning. At last they were within a mile of the heights and thewestern entrance to the Pass, and now their speed slackened. They beganopening out farther and farther to the right and left, and the nearerthey came to the foothills the slower and steadier became their advance.The mules and their attendants were kept well in the background and forthe life of him Pike could not tell what that queer looking "pack" couldbe. Slowly, steadily, the Tonto skirmish line came on. Every momentbrought them nearer to the mouth of the Pass. The sun was low down inthe west and threw long shadows of the approaching foe before them.Little by little, crouching, almost crawling, the more daring spiritsamong them would give a spring and a rapid run to the front of forty orfifty yards. Evidently they expected to be greeted with a sharp firesomewhere about the Pass, and did not dare push ahead in their usualorder. And now they had reached the entrance to the defile. Two orthree, as flankers, remained well out to the right and left among thetrees; two or three stole cautiously ahead down the road. Pike watchedtheir every move, yet found himself every few seconds fixing his gaze onthat foremost mule now placidly cropping the scant herbage while theskirmish line pushed ahead. Presently a signal of some kind was givenand repeated. The Indians in charge of the mules hastened with them tothe mouth of the Pass, and as they did so, that singular pack camecloser under Pike's powerful glass.
"It's their prisoner," he uttered. "They have driven and goaded himuntil he fainted from exhaustion. Then they had to wait for the mules tobe brought up to the hillock--then lashed the poor fellow upon the backof one of them and pushed ahead." For some purpose of their own theywere keeping him alive, and death by fearful torture was something to belooked forward to in the near future. The corporal continued to gaze asthough fascinated until the leading mule got almost under him, and thenhe gave a groan of helplessness and misery as he exclaimed, "My God! MyGod! It's Manuelito!"