CHAPTER III.
ON GUARD.
The beautiful weather continued unchanged throughout the afternoon. Asthe sun declined in the sky there was a perceptible coolness in the air,but the exercise of riding removed all necessity for using theirblankets.
Although the party had been edging toward the foot-hills for hours, itseemed to the boys that they were as far off as ever. They had coveredmany miles, but those who have travelled in the West know the deceptivecharacter of the crystalline atmosphere, so far as distances areconcerned. However, as twilight began closing in they reached a smallgrove of trees, which was the destination of the guide from the first.It was there he meant to camp for the night, and he could not haveselected a better place had he spent a week in looking for it.
The grove covered less than an acre, the trees standing well apart, andwholly free from brush and undergrowth. Thus even the horses could passback and forth freely. Over this shaded space the dark-green grass grewluxuriantly, with a soft juiciness of texture which made it the idealfood for cattle and horses. In the middle of the grove bubbled a springof clear cold water, whose winding course could be traced far out on theplain by the fringe of deeper green which accompanied it.
Saddles and bridles were removed, and the ponies turned free to crop thegrass until they were filled, when they would lie down for the night.The blankets were spread on the ground near the spring, and then, at thesuggestion of Hazletine, all three joined in gathering dried branchesand limbs with which to start a fire. It was now cool enough to make thewarmth welcome, while the flame would add to the cheerfulness of theoccasion.
Jack and Fred had never ridden so far at one stretch, and when theyreclined on their blankets to watch Hank start the fire they werethoroughly tired out; but it seemed to them their hunger was moreravenous than ever. Each forbore to speak of it, but the deliberation oftheir friend in preparing the meal was almost intolerable.
The first night spent by the boys in camping out in the wilds of Wyomingwas one that can never be forgotten. When the meal was finished and thelast vestige of food eaten, the three stretched out where they couldfeel the grateful warmth of the fire that had been kindled against thetrunk of a large oak. Hank had again lighted his pipe, and deeplyinterested Jack and Fred by his reminiscences of a life that had beenfilled to overflowing with strange experience and adventure. Theylistened, unconscious of the passage of the hours, until he abruptlyasked:
"What time is it?"
Each youth looked at his watch, and, to his astonishment, saw that itwas nearly half-past ten. They had supposed that it was fully two hoursearlier.
"One of the rules that must always be follered," said the guide, "whenhunting or away from home, is that all the party mustn't sleep at thesame time."
"Then one has to stand watch?"
"It looks that way. Now, we'll divide the time atween us, each taking apart, so that it won't come heavy on any one."
"That will suit us," Fred hastened to say, while Jack nodded his head.
"All right. You, Jack, will keep watch till twelve--that is midnight;then you'll rouse t'other younker, and he'll stand guard till two; thenhe'll give me a kick, and I'll run things till daylight."
"What are we likely to see?" asked Jack, who naturally desired to learnall the points concerning his new duties.
"How should I know?" asked Hank, with a grin. "There may be wildanimals, sich as grizzlies, cinnamon or black bears; there may bewolves, or dog Injins looking for a chance to steal our ponies."
"Why do you call them 'dog Indians?'"
"A dog Injin is a tramp 'mong the other tribes; he don't live much withany of 'em, but sneaks round the country, looking for a chance to stealsomething, and it don't matter what it is."
"Suppose I catch sight of one of the animals you name, or a dogIndian--what shall I do?"
"Shoot him quicker'n lightning."
This was a startling order, but the guide was in earnest.
"Are you afeard to do it?" he asked, half contemptuously.
"No; I'll shoot the instant it is necessary, but I don't fancy the ideaof picking off an Indian without warning."
"If you give him warning you won't pick him off. If you're so squeamish,you might argufy the matter with him."
"Leave that to me; I'm on duty now; go to sleep."
Without another word the guide wrapped his blanket about him andstretched out in front of the fire, with his feet toward it. Judgingfrom his heavy breathing, it was barely five minutes before he becameunconscious.
"It strikes me this is rushing things," remarked Jack to Fred, as thetwo sat beside each other. "Last night the 'V. W. W.' were in thesleeper of the Union Pacific; to-night they are looking out for a chanceto shoot Indians."
"I don't believe there's any likelihood of finding it. I suspect thatHank is having some sport at our expense. If there was any danger hewould stay awake himself, instead of trusting two tenderfeet like us."
"It may be, but we are in a wild country, where danger is likely to comeat any time, and we may have our hands full. It seems to me that itwould have been better to let the fire go out, and not attractattention."
"He's running this affair; he wouldn't have had so much wood gathered ifhe didn't mean to keep the blaze going."
With this Fred rose to his feet and flung an armful of wood on theflames, which brightened up until their reflection was thrown againstthe branches overhead and well out toward the edge of the grove. A faintwhinny proved that the horses had been disturbed by the increase in theillumination.
Before lying down, Fred looked at his chum.
"I wonder, Jack, whether there's any risk of your falling asleep?"
"There would be if I remained seated on the ground, but I shall not dothat."
"It will be dangerous to walk back and forth, where the fire shows youplainly."
"My plan is to move out in the grove, where the firelight will notstrike me, and stand close to the trunk of one of the trees. I haveheard of folks sleeping on their feet, but there's no fear of my doingit. Since I am to call you in less than two hours, Fred, you wouldbetter get sleep while you can."
The younger lad bade his friend good-night and imitated the action ofHank Hazletine, wrapping his blanket around himself and lying down nearthe fire. He was not quite so prompt in sinking into slumber, but it wasnot long before Jack Dudley was the only one of the little party incommand of his senses.
Jack, like his companions, felt the need of sleep, but the fact that hehad but a brief while to remain awake, and the consciousness that thesafety of others, as well as his own, rested upon himself, made him veryalert. He believed he could sit or recline on the ground and retain hiswits, but, fortunately, he had too much prudence to run that risk. Sleepis so insidious a foe that we can never recall the moment when itovermasters us, nor can we fight it off when in a prone or easy posture.
He adhered to the plan he had formed. Winchester in hand, he moved awayfrom the fire until, by interposing the large trunk of a tree betweenhimself and the light, he was invisible from that direction. He stooderect, taking care not to lean against the trunk for partial support,and concentrated his faculties into those of listening and looking.
The stillness was profound. From the distant mountains to the westwardcame a low, soft, almost inaudible murmur, such as one hears when manymiles from the calm ocean, and which has been called the voice ofsilence itself. In the stillness he heard the faint crackle of one ofthe embers as it fell apart, and, though the night wind scarcely stirredthe leaves over his head, he caught the rustle. The fact that there wasnothing from the direction of the ponies showed they had ceased to cropthe grass and were lying down. The safety of the camp was in his hands.If he forgot his duty, it might be fatal to all.
The sense of this responsibility and the newness of his position madeJack Dudley more wakeful than he could have been under any othercircumstances. To these causes, also, was due a suspicious nervousnesswhich made him see danger where it did not exist. The
rustling of afalling leaf caused him to start and glance furtively to one side, andat a soft stir of the leaves under a breath of wind, or a slightmovement of the sleeping ponies, he started and grasped his rifle withcloser grip.
All this was natural; but there came a moment, not far from midnight,when there remained no doubt that some person or animal was movingstealthily through the grove, near where he was standing. It will beremembered that his position was such that the trunk of the large oakacted as an impenetrable screen between him and the camp-fire, which wasburning so vigorously that its rays penetrated to a greater or lessdegree beyond him. Thus he could see anything moving within the circleof illumination, while he was as invisible to the keenest-eyed warrioras if the night was without a ray of light.
The first warning was through the sense of hearing. He had been deceivedso many times that he suspected his fancy was playing with him again,but the faint _tip, tip_ continued until such explanation was amiss.
"It is an Indian or a wild beast," was his belief.
The next minute he knew that, whatever it was, its position was betweenhim and the outer edge of the grove. Since the ponies were on theopposite side of the fire, Jack was nearer the intruder than either theyor his friends, sleeping by the camp-fire. Recalling that his place wasthe most favorable possible, he remained as motionless as the tree-trunkbehind him, and to which he stood close enough to touch by moving hisfoot a few inches backward.
The situation being thus, it followed that if the man or beast continuedits advance it must come into sight, while Jack himself was invisible.He therefore held his Winchester ready for instant use and waited.
He was standing in this expectant attitude when a remarkable thing tookplace. The fire, having remained unreplenished for some time, hadsubsided to a considerable extent, when one of the embers fell apart andcaused such a displacement of the burning wood that the light flared upand penetrated with its former vigor beyond the tree which sheltered thesentinel.
Jack was as immovable as a statue, his weapon grasped in both hands,when this sudden brightening occurred. He was peering out among the darktrees, in the effort to identify the danger, when he saw theunmistakable figure of an Indian, hardly twenty feet away.
The buck had entered the grove with the silence of a shadow, and wasmaking his way to the camp-fire, when betrayed in this singular mannerto the watcher. In the reflection of the firelight, his naturallyhideous countenance was repulsive to the last degree. The features wereirregular, with prominent cheek-bones, a huge nose, and a retreatingchin. Ugly as nature had made him, he had intensified it himself bydaubing black, red and white paint in splashes over the front of hiscountenance. His coarse, black hair dangled loosely about his shoulders,and a single stained eagle's feather protruded from the crown. It wasgathered back of the neck by a thong of some sort, so as to prevent thehair getting in his eyes when there was such imminent need for theiruse.
The chest was bare to the waist, and was also fantastically painted. Inthe girdle which encircled his waist was thrust a knife, whose handleprotruded, while the leggings and moccasins were gayly ornamented andfringed. He held a formidable rifle in his right hand, in a trailingposition, and was leaning well forward, with his body bent, as he drewnear the camp with that stoical patience which the American race showsin the most trying crises. If necessary, he would continue this cautiousadvance for hours without showing haste, for it is often that his peoplecircumvent and overthrow an enemy by their incomparable caution andcare.
One peculiar feature of the unexpected flaring-up of the light was thatits strongest force impinged directly upon the painted face of theIndian, which was seen as plainly by Jack Dudley as if the sun wereshining. The youth felt that he could not forget that countenance if hesaw it a hundred years afterward.
Had Jack followed the instruction of their guide he would have leveledhis Winchester and shot the Indian dead in his tracks. The fellow wasstealing into camp in such a manner that there could be no doubt theleast crime he meant to commit was to steal. No ranchman or hunter wouldhesitate a moment, under the circumstances, to give him his eternalquietus.
But Jack Dudley could not do such a thing. To him it was an awful act toshoot a person, even though a savage, and his conscience would neverpermit him to do so until there was no choice left to him. He would muchprefer to frighten away this intruder than to kill him.
The youth was so confident of his command of the situation that he wouldhave felt hardly a thrill of alarm, but for the fear that the redskinbelonged to a party near at hand who had sent him forward as a scout.Manifestly the right course for the sentinel was to discharge his gun,thus scaring the Indian and awaking Hazletine; but, while debating thequestion with himself, he became aware that the hostile was advancing.
The fellow did this with such marvellous cunning that Jack perceived nomovement of his legs or feet. The latter were partly shrouded in shadow,but the Indian himself suggested a statue set up among the trees.Nevertheless he was inching toward the camp-fire, and was already acouple of yards nearer Jack than when the latter first noticed him.
Had he approached from the other side the youth never would havediscovered his danger; but now he had his eye on the enemy, and meant tokeep it there until the crisis was over. It was perhaps ten minuteslater that the buck was within six feet of the youth, who, noiselesslybringing his Winchester to a level, took one step toward him and asked:
_"Well, my friend, what do you want?"_