CHAPTER XIX.
INTO THE CAVERN.
Hank Hazletine and Jack Dudley having failed to find the missing FredGreenwood, let us try our hand at the task.
Going back to that afternoon when the elder youth from his concealmenton the crest of the ridge fired down into the little herd of antelopegrazing in the valley in front of him, and secured a supper for the two,it will be remembered that Fred had started along the side of thevalley, with a view of placing himself beyond the game and rendering thesuccess of himself and friend certain.
He never dreamed of danger to himself. His attention was fixed upon thepretty animals, and, hungry as he was, he felt a sympathy for them,knowing that in all probability one of the number would be sacrificed.Nevertheless, he put forth the utmost pains to prevent their takingalarm, and there is hardly a doubt that he would have succeeded in hispurpose but for the catastrophe which overtook him when half thedistance had been passed.
Suddenly, while he was stealing forward in a crouching posture, a low,threatening voice reached his ear. Only the single word, "_Stop!_" wasuttered, but it could not have startled the youth more than the whir ofa rattlesnake under his feet. Before he could straighten up he turnedhis head like a flash. Not a rod distant, kneeling upon one knee, wasMotoza, the Sioux, with his Winchester aimed at him!
Believing that he would press the trigger of his weapon the next moment,Fred Greenwood was transfixed. He could only look at his enemy and awaitthe end. He was without the power to raise a finger in his own defence.
"Drop gun!" commanded his master. The words showed the lad that he had afew minutes at least to live, but the "drop" was on him and he promptlyobeyed.
"Drop little gun!" added the Sioux, who never wavered in keeping hisrifle pointed at the chest of the young man.
Fred withdrew his revolver and flung it at his feet. He was now withouta single firearm. An infant could not have been more helpless.
As yet he had not spoken a word. He recalled the warning of Jack Dudley,and knew the ferocious hatred this vagrant redskin held toward him. Toappeal for mercy would delight the miscreant and not aid the prisoner.He tried another tack.
"What do you want with me, Motoza?"
The question pleased the Sioux, who, partly lowering his rifle, stillheld it ready for instant use. His ugly countenance was broken by theold grin.
"Huh! You call Motoza tief, eh?"
"That's what I called you, and that's what you are!"
"Huh! Me kill you!"
"_You_ can do that easily enough, but you'll never live to brag aboutit. If the officers don't hang you, Hank Hazletine will make daylightshine through your hide! He is only waiting for an excuse."
"White man dog--me not afraid--me kill _him_!" said the Sioux, with adangerous glitter in his snake-like eyes.
"You can't do it too soon. But what are you waiting for?"
Motoza had not counted upon such defiance; but if it lessened hiscontempt it did not diminish his hate nor weaken his purpose.
"You go; me follow; me point rifle if you run; if you call, me shoot!"
"Which way do you wish me to travel?"
The Sioux pointed toward the bend in the valley for which Fred wasmaking when checked in this peremptory manner. To obey was to take himfurther from his comrade, but he obeyed.
As he moved off, Motoza picked up the two weapons from the ground,thrusting the revolver into the girdle at his waist, while he carriedthe Winchester in his other hand. Fred heard him a few paces in therear, as well as the repetition of his threats to fire on the leastattempt of the prisoner to regain his freedom or to attract theattention of his friends.
The youth never doubted that he would carry out this threat, and hewould have been a zany to draw the explosion of wrath. He walked forwardand did his best to obey the orders of his enemy in spirit and letter.
The young man thought intently. The shock of the belief that instantdeath impended was somewhat softened by the knowledge that the crisiswas deferred for a time at least, though it was impossible to guess forhow long.
What was the ultimate intention of the Sioux? It seemed probable to Fredthat he was afraid to slay him at the spot of capture, since the bodywould be sure of discovery by his friends, with a good chance oflearning the identity of the assassin. What more likely, therefore, thanthat he was conducting him to some remote place, where his body wouldnever be found?
It was not natural that an active, sturdy youth like Fred Greenwoodshould submit to be led thus meekly to slaughter, but in what possibleway could he help himself? If he wheeled about to assail the buck he waswithout a single weapon, while the Sioux was doubly armed. A glance overhis shoulder showed his enemy almost within arm's reach.
Not the least trying feature of this extraordinary proceeding was thatFred had to hear the report of Jack Dudley's rifle, followed by hisshouts, which plainly reached the ears of the one who dared make noreply. He could only continue walking until the bend in the valley waspassed, when a change of direction took place.
It was no longer necessary to conceal themselves from observation, forthere was no one to be feared. From the facts that afterward came tolight there is little doubt that Tozer and Motoza had held a conferenceprevious to the capture and fixed upon a definite line of procedure, forotherwise it is not conceivable that the Sioux would have spared thelife of his captive.
With numerous turnings, and with the sounds of Jack Dudley's shouts andfiring faintly reaching his ears, young Greenwood continued marching infront of his captor long after the sun had set and night closed in. Hehad lost all idea of the points of the compass, but the fact that thetramp continued and that no harm was done him inspired the prisoner witha degree of hope that was altogether lacking at the opening of hisstrange adventure.
Suddenly a roaring noise struck him, and a short distance further hereached the break in the canyon with which he had become familiar. Thisenabled him to locate himself, and he looked around to learn the furtherwishes of his master. From the moment of starting Fred had been on thealert for a chance to make a break for liberty, but none occurred. TheSioux was too vigilant to tempt him.
The long immunity from harm had given the lad a certain self-assurance.As yet he had formed no suspicion of the real purpose of the Sioux, but,somehow or other, he believed his own death was not likely to beattempted for a number of hours to come.
"Well, Motoza, here we are! What's the next step?"
The Indian raised one of the hands grasping a Winchester and pointedtoward the canyon.
"Go dere--jump on rock!"
"My gracious! I can't do that!"
"Den me kill!"
As if angered beyond restraint, he made a leap toward the startledyouth, who recoiled a step, and, esteeming a death by drowningpreferable to the one which threatened him, made haste to reply:
"All right; I'll try it."
But it was necessary that the miscreant should give some instructions tohis prisoner. These were simple. He was to leap upon the rock nearest toshore, and then, by the same means, ascend the canyon until ordered tostop. From what has already been related concerning Jack Dudley'sexperience, it will be seen that the task was difficult and dangerous.
There was no choice, however. He had gained a general knowledge of thecanyon and felt almost certain he would be overtaken by accident; but inmany respects his experience was so similar to that which was afterwardundergone by his comrade that the particulars need not be dwelt upon. Hefound the work less laborious than he expected. The Sioux by gestureindicated the rocks, when they were not clear to the boy, who found notrouble in making the leaps. In every case he had hardly landed when thebuck dropped lightly at his side.
A desperate scheme was half-formed more than once while this singularprogress was going on. It was purposely to miss his footing and allowhimself to be carried away by the tumultuous torrent. He was restrainedby two good reasons. Motoza was likely to seize him before he was sweptbeyond reach, and if he did not he would inevitably drown
. Accordingly,Fred kept at it until finally they reached the ledge up which HankHazletine climbed twenty-four hours later.
By this time a suspicion of the partial truth had penetrated the mind ofFred. There must be some cavity in the rocks where his captor meant tohold him for awhile as prisoner. The plan of securing a large ransom inpayment for his freedom was not dreamt of by the youth. No one wouldthink of looking in this place for him, and he would be secure for anindefinite period.
Motoza had learned several things from his association with those ofCaucasian blood, one of which was that a rubber match-safe is preferableto rubbing two dry sticks together when in need of fire, or using theold-fashioned steel and flint.
He managed with some trouble to make Fred understand he was to climb upthe ledge, and he followed so deftly that the prisoner was given nochance to try to prevent him. A minute after they stood side by side,Motoza struck a match, and his captive had a glimpse of the cavern whichhas already been described.
Here, then, was the end of the journey. This was to be the prison ofFred Greenwood until when? When was he to be released, or was he not tobe released at all?
Passing well back in the gloom the two sat down, so far removed from theroar and tumult of the torrent that they could talk without difficulty.Fred was still apprehensive of some sudden violence from the Sioux, and,though in the gloom he could see nothing of him, he was ready to makethe best struggle possible.
"Am I to stay here, Motoza?" he asked, raising his voice to a highpitch.
Instead of replying directly, the Indian asked:
"Huh! you fader hab heap money, eh?"
This simple question revealed the whole plot and confirmed the statementalready made that the scheme for holding Fred Greenwood for ransom byhis relatives was arranged before his abduction took place.
It was a great discovery for Fred Greenwood to make. On the instantnearly all his fears vanished and his heart glowed with hope. This beingremembered, he can hardly be blamed for drawing matters with rather along bow.
"Yes," he made haste to say, "my father has money; a hundred times morethan I have," all which was true without involving more than a moderatesum.
"He gib heap money fur _you_, eh?"
"Of course; I come high."
"He gib thousand--gib ten thousand--hundred thousand--milliondollar--eh?"
"Well, that's a pretty good sum; I'm afraid my father wouldn't think Iam worth as much as that; but there's no doubt, Motoza, he will pay youa good price; is it your plan to sell me to him?"
The Sioux made no answer to this, though Fred repeated the question. Thesullen silence of the Indian brought back the misgivings of the captive.He could not doubt that he had been abducted with a view of beingransomed, but it was impossible to credit Motoza with the whole scheme.He must have allies, and, knowing nothing of Bill Tozer, Fred suspectedthat a half-dozen vagrant Indians, more or less, were engaged in it,though it seemed singular that no one else had shown himself thus far.
Although the prisoner had been in better spirits than would besuspected, his situation was uncomfortable and he lost hope with thepassage of the hours. Motoza refused to hold any further conversation,and was evidently brooding over something of an unpleasant nature. Byand by he lit his pipe and silently puffed. He was sitting on the flintyfloor, with his back against the side of the cavern and his legs thrustout in front of him.
Now and then, when he drew a little harder on the pipe, the glow in thebowl revealed the tip of his nose, a part of the painted forehead, andthe glittering black eyes. It was a gruesome picture, for, even when hewas invisible, it seemed to Fred he could see the gleam of those eyesfixed upon him.
"Now, I know he hates me beyond expression," mused the youth, "andnothing would delight him more than to torture me to death. If he agreesto give me my liberty, it will be just like him to kill me as soon as hegets the money which father will gladly pay for my safety."
It will be seen that the trend of Fred's thoughts was similar to thoseof Hank Hazletine, when considering the same matter. Whatever projectmight be in the minds of others, the youth would be in danger so long ashe was in the power of the wretch whom he had unpardonably insulted.
Naturally, Fred had asked himself more than once whether it was possiblefor him to make his escape from the cavern. It was out of the questionso long as the Sioux was his companion, but if he should leave himalone, even for a short time, the youth was resolved to make theattempt.
These and similar thoughts were chasing one another through his brainwhen he fell asleep. He was very tired from his long tramp and did notopen his eyes until the faint light of morning penetrated his prison. Hehad not forgotten to wind his watch, and when he looked at it he saw tohis astonishment that it was nearly eight o'clock. He had slept for morethan ten hours.
The next cause of his surprise was to find he was alone. Motoza had leftwhile he was asleep, though how long previous it was impossible toguess. But the hunger which Fred Greenwood had felt on more than oneprevious occasion was as naught compared to the ravenous appetite thatnow had possession of him. It was a long time since he had eaten, and itlooked as if it would be a long time before he ate again. There wasabsolutely nothing in the cavern beside himself. He felt in his pocketsin the weak hope of finding a forgotten fish-hook that could be used,though he possessed nothing in the nature of bait; but, inasmuch as hehad not brought a hook with him, it would not do to say he succeeded inhis search, though he displaced the piece of writing-paper afterwardfound by his friend.
Forcing all thought of food from him for the time, he asked why, nowthat his gaoler was absent, he should not pick his way down the canyonand make a break for liberty. At the same time he could not forget thatone of the most improbable acts of the Sioux would be to give him anychance at all to escape.
It was more than likely that Motoza had laid the temptation in his way,that it might serve him as a pretext for shooting his prisoner. Fredresolved, therefore, to be careful in all that he did. The necessity ofdrinking and bathing his face was his excuse for walking out to theborder of the ledge and letting himself down to the rock underneath.There he dipped up what water he needed in the palms of his hands, andwhile doing so scanned every part of the canyon in his field of vision.
He noted the narrow strip of sky far aloft, the tumbling waters aboveand below where he stood, the black boulders protruding their headsabove the torrent which flung itself fiercely against them, the craggywalls of the canyon, but nowhere did he catch sight of the Sioux who hadbrought him hither. None the less, Fred felt so certain his black eyeswere watching him from some hidden point that he did not yield to thetemptation to leap to the nearest boulder and start on his flight forliberty. Instead, he grasped the margin of the ledge and drew himself upto his former place.
There, however, he paused with folded arms and surveyed the strangescene more leisurely than before. He was anxious to discover the Siouxif anywhere in sight, but the fellow did not show himself.
The roar of the canyon had been in his ears so long that it seemed likesilence, and it had lulled him to sleep hours before. He was stillsuffering from hunger and longed for the return of his captor, for hethought he would bring food with him.
Providentially the lad had stood in this position but a short time whenhe looked aloft toward the sky. At the moment of doing so he uttered anexclamation of affright and leaped back into the mouth of the cavern.The next instant a boulder that must have weighed a ton crashed upon theledge where he had been standing, splintered off a number of pieces, andplunged into the torrent below.
Fred did not try to make himself believe that the falling of this massof stone was an accident. Motoza or one of his allies had been on thewatch above for the appearance of the youth, and when the boulder hadbeen adjusted as well as possible it was tumbled over into the canyon.Had Fred remained on the spot a few moments longer he would have beencrushed like an insect under the wheel of a steam-engine.
It was a startling occurrence, and in his we
akened condition made him sofaint that he withdrew still further into the cavern and sat down,trembling like a leaf. His hunger had vanished and hope almost departed.
"It will not do for me to leave the cavern in the daytime, for he iswaiting for me to do so. I can't do it at night without some one toguide me. He means to keep me here until I die of starvation."
Fred had come really to believe this. He knew enough of Indian nature tounderstand that the race rarely inflict instant death upon an enemy whenit is in their power to subject him to torture or slay in some horriblefashion. Motoza had not slain him before because he was unwilling thatthe one whom he hated so intensely should receive such mercy. It wouldbe a hundredfold sweeter to the Sioux to see his prisoner dying byinches.
"If he has a plan for making father pay a ransom for me it will take anumber of days to bring the thing to an end. During all that time I amto be left without a morsel of food; he would deprive me of water, too,if he could."
It was a shocking conclusion to form, but the usually clear-headed boybecame convinced he was right.
"Poor Jack must be worried almost to death," he murmured, sitting on thestones and giving rein to his fancies; "he will know that something hasgone wrong with me, but he can never know what it was. Hank will lay itto Motoza, for he has said there is nothing too wicked for him to do,but the cowman has no way of finding what has become of me, and he can'tmake Motoza tell him. He and Jack may hunt for weeks without suspectingwhere I am."
In this declaration Fred Greenwood, as is known, was not quite correct,though the search of his friends was fruitless.