diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-01-22 05:21:45 -0800 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-01-22 05:21:45 -0800 |
| commit | 84370285d2c28f7d61268354064bd519c75a15f4 (patch) | |
| tree | db585e186dea369f9056a6adb87211ea1183b263 | |
| parent | 941ba493462cd483ab1a98ecd260a419cfabe968 (diff) | |
| -rw-r--r-- | old/68300-0.txt | 4757 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/68300-0.zip | bin | 83596 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/68300-h.zip | bin | 1688414 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/68300-h/68300-h.htm | 5524 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/68300-h/images/cover-small.jpg | bin | 217211 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/68300-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 1384416 -> 0 bytes |
6 files changed, 0 insertions, 10281 deletions
diff --git a/old/68300-0.txt b/old/68300-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 4adb302..0000000 --- a/old/68300-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4757 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The phantom tracker; or The prisoner -of the hill cave, by Fredrick Dewey - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The phantom tracker; or The prisoner of the hill cave - Beadle's Pocket Novels No. 48 - -Author: Fredrick Dewey - -Release Date: June 12, 2022 [eBook #68300] - -Language: English - -Produced by: David Edwards, SF2001, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Northern - Illinois University Digital Library) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PHANTOM TRACKER; OR THE -PRISONER OF THE HILL CAVE *** - - - - - - Vol. IV.] APRIL 29, 1876. [No. 48. - - - THE PHANTOM TRACKER; - OR, - THE PRISONER OF THE HILL CAVE. - - - BY FREDERICK DEWEY, - AUTHOR OF “THE DOG TRAILER,” “WILL-O’-THE WISP,” ETC. - - - NEW YORK: - BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, - 98 WILLIAM STREET. - - - - - Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by - FRANK STARR & CO., - In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. - - - - - THE PHANTOM TRAILER; - OR, - THE PRISONER OF THE HILL CAVE. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -THE CAVE-HUNTER AND THE SHADOW. - - -It was a sultry, scorching day, on the banks of the river Gila--very -sultry and silent. The sun in the zenith looked whitely down, and the -yellow banks reflected its rays fiercely on the sluggishly-creeping, -warm river. Away over the flat, glistening plain reigned the utmost -silence. As far as the eye could reach it saw nothing--only dead level, -dead heat, and dead silence. Here, mile upon mile from civilization, -hundreds of miles away from any habitation, this vast wilderness -stretched away--always level, always hazy, always silent--a spectral -land. - -A large catfish lazily rolled and tumbled on the surface of the river, -too hot to swim, and too stupid to move--lying there, he only, at -times, waved his fins and tumbled gently. A vulture sat on a sand-crag -just above him--a water-vulture, or, rather, a brown, dirty fish-hawk. -He was lazily watching his chance to swoop suddenly down upon the fish, -and carry him off in his talons. But it was too hot to undergo any -useless exertion, so he watched and waited for a sure chance, pluming -himself moodily. - -A panting coyote sat on his house at a little distance, watching the -pair, and vaguely conscious that he was very hungry; a mule-rabbit -under an adjacent tiny shrub tremblingly watched the coyote, starting -violently at the slightest movement of the latter; and a huge yellow -serpent, long and supple, dragged his scaly body up the bluff toward -the rabbit. - -The sun shone redly down now, leaving its white appearance for a -sanguinary and blood-red hue; a haze was brewing. - -Suddenly the quiet was disturbed. The coyote sneaked away, with his -bristly chin upon his lank shoulder; this alarmed the rabbit, and -he, too, fled, making the most gigantic leaps; in ten seconds he had -disappeared. The snake’s eyes flashed in enraged disappointment, and -hissing spitefully, he raised his head to discover the cause of the -hasty flight. - -He soon saw it. On the barren banks he could have seen a mouse at -a long distance. The object he saw was the exact reverse of that -diminutive quadruped, being a large, stalwart, swarthy man, on a large -black horse. - -He appeared suddenly, riding over the crest of an adjacent hillock. He -stopped on the summit, glared keenly around, then rode down into the -river. He stopped in the river where the thirsty horse drank greedily. -Then, after dismounting and drinking deeply himself, he boldly rode up -the opposite bank. - -He appeared well acquainted with the locality, for this was the only -fordable place for miles--either the river was too deep or the bottom -too soft--“quicksandy.” - -Riding up the bank, he halted and sat for a moment buried in profound -thought. He was a Mexican, a giant in proportions. His visage was -that of a crafty, wily man, and his keen black eye was one that never -quailed. His dress was simple, being in the American manner, of well -dressed buck-skin. He however still clung to his _sombrero_, which, -instead of being cocked jauntily on the side of his head, was drawn -down over his eyes to shield them from the hot sun. His whole equipment -was that of a mounted ranger, and this style of dress has so often been -described as to be familiar to all. - -Instead of the short carbine which a Mexican habitually carries, he -sported a long, elegant rifle--a very witch to charm a hunter’s eye. -Then he had a brace of silver-mounted revolvers, each firing five -times without reloading. Like the rifle, they were costly, and fatally -precise and true, models of expensive and beautiful workmanship. - -But in his belt was that which, however captivating to the eye -_they_ might be, cast them into the shade. It was a long dagger, -double-edged, sharp as a razor, with a basket handle of rare -workmanship. This last was gold (the handle)--pure, yellow gold, -chased and milled into all manner of quaint and droll devices. It hung -jauntily in its ornamented sheath at his belt, and his hand was forever -caressing its beautiful handle. - -Why should this man, forty years of age, rough, plainly dressed, riding -with the stealthy air of one who is at war--with a ragged saddle and -plain, even homely steed, have such elegant and costly weapons? They -cost a large sum, evidently, and should be the property of a prince. - -While he is caressing his dagger, as the weapons and their history are -the subjects of this narrative, let us go back a year for a brief space. - -The name of the Mexican was Pedro Felipe, the old and tried servant of -a wealthy and kind master, also a Mexican. A year ago his master, Señor -Martinez, had occasion to cross a vast, sterile wilderness, lying a -hundred or more miles north of the Gila river. While on that plain, in -a remote part of it, called the Land of Silence (a ghostly, spectral -plain, considered haunted), his only daughter, a beautiful young girl, -was abducted by a robber chief, and carried away to a rendezvous--a -hollow hill in the plain. Here she was rescued by Pedro, disguised as a -black savage. - -The hillock had an aperture in it, and Pedro, on hearing a noise, -looked out and saw the lieutenant of the band, a fierce man called the -“Trailer,” approaching. Knowing he must take his life or be discovered -by the whole band, he shot him dead, from off his horse. - -From the Trailer’s body he took the weapons we have described, and -then left the body to be devoured by wolves and birds of prey. He was -certain that in the hillock a large treasure was secreted, but fearing -to be discovered by the band, whom he expected to arrive every hour, -he left without searching for it. But the band, he soon after learned, -disbanded without returning to the hillock, and left for Mexico. - -Pedro had but one glaring fault--the love of gold. He was now on his -way to the hill in the Land of Silence, to search for the treasure, and -he felt confident of finding it. Why not? The captain and the Trailer -were dead--he had seen them both fall; the party had at the same time -disorganized; and he was certain they had never returned to seek for it. - -The Trailer had been the last robber on the spot, and he himself had -killed him; so he was certain of finding the treasure untouched. - -Pedro Felipe’s absorbing love of gold had brought him on this hot day -to the northern bank of the Gila, on his way to the Land of Silence in -search of it. - -The sun gleamed redly through the haze as Pedro looked northward, with -his raven eye toward the spectered Land of Silence. It was an ill-fated -land. Many dark and mysterious deeds had taken place there, many deeds -of which the world would never know. Indians and hunters avoided it and -deemed it haunted by evil spirits. Well it might be; it was a ghostly, -hazy, quiet place, where the sun shone fiercely, and water was scarce. - -Pedro’s experience had been strange in this land, and he was very -superstitious. But he was also brave and crafty, having the reputation -of being the best Mexican scout and Indian-fighter in his part of the -country. - -So, urged on by his love of gold--his only and great fault--and by -the prospect of adventure and excitement, he was to brave, alone and -unaided, the land of specters and of death--the Land of Silence. - -He turned his horse’s head to the south, and peered away over the -plain. Nothing was in sight; he was alone in the vast wilderness. - -“Farewell, Mexico!” he said; “good-by to your sunny plains and pleasant -groves! May it not be long before I come back to thee, my land! -Farewell, my old master, my beautiful mistress, and her noble husband; -my old companion, Benedento--and all I hold dear. This morning I stood -on your border, sunny Mexico. To-morrow, at sunset, I will be alone, -_alone_ in the Land of Silence. Farewell, my land! I may never tread -your soil again.” - -He slowly dismounted, and placing his arm affectionately round his -steed’s neck, raised his _sombrero_ reverently. - -“My faithful horse, we must go; time is precious. Once more, farewell, -my land.” - -He waved his hand with a graceful parting-salute, calmly, but with -a vague presentiment of coming evil. Then he remounted, turning his -horse’s head to the north; under the hot sun, blazing with blinding -heat, in the desert alone, he rode away, bound for the Land of Silence. - -As he started, a vulture rose from an adjacent knoll, and wheeled -slowly above him, and croaked dismally. Was it a bad augury--the -warning of evil to come? - -The vulture returned to his perch; the other animals returned to their -former places, and Pedro was riding away. - -As the last wink of the setting sun gleamed out over the silent plain, -a new form appeared on the southern bank of the river. He, too, peered -sharply about him when he reached the crest of the knoll, and he was -very wary and watchful. When he had finished his scrutiny without -seeing any thing to alarm him, or arouse distrust, he rode down the -bank. - -In the river his horse (a powerful black) halted to drink; but the -rider never moved. Then, when he had finished, the horse stepped up the -northern bank and galloped away toward the north. - -The traveler was dressed in buck-skin; was armed to the teeth; had a -black, conical hat in which a black plume nodded and waved, and a face -in which glowed two raven eyes. - -He was an ugly-looking customer--a desperado in appearance. - -In the twilight soon horse and rider became blended in one blurred mass -as they receded, rapidly growing fainter to the sight, and further -away. In half an hour darkness had fallen, and they were no longer -visible from the river bank. - -Who was the rider? - -Ask the winds. - -Where was he going? - -To the Land of Silence, directly in the Mexican’s tracks. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -LOST IN THE DESERT. - - -On the afternoon in which last chapter’s events occurred, a train of -three wagons plodded slowly up to the southern bank of the Gila, about -twenty miles east from the place where Pedro forded it. Here was quite -a good ford, and it was somewhat in use, being on a northern trail--one -of the many from Mexico to the north. The country about it was exactly -similar to that around the other ford with one exception--away in the -east, Vulture Mountain was barely visible in the distance. From that -mountain toward the east the Gila river was constantly under the quiet -supervision of a sandy-rocky range of disconnected mountains, to its -extreme source. But here all was flat, sterile, and quiet. - -The wagons were accompanied by several horsemen, and one horsewoman--or -rather, young girl. In fact, these were almost the entire party, the -only ones in the wagons being the teamster, one American, and two -Canadians. - -It was a small train--a “whiffit-outfit.” Three wagons were a small -number beside the dozens that generally consorted. It could easily be -seen it was not the property of a large stock-owner or freighter, but -was evidently the property of a single man--an emigrant. - -It was even so. The man yonder on the verge of the bank--that sturdy, -bronzed man of fifty or thereabouts, about whom the other horsemen -gather, is the owner: Joel Wheeler, a northern New Yorker. - -Hearing of the rapid fortunes which were constantly being made by -enterprising Americans in Mexico, he had left a comfortable home in -New York to gain immense riches. After being in that “golden” land -for several years he had found out what many others had done before -him--that the men in Mexico were as keen and shrewd at a bargain as any -one else--in fact, many times more so. - -His exchequer ran low; marauding savages and violent disease thinned -his flocks; his native servants plundered him; until, completely -disgusted and homesick, he packed his goods and chattels and started, -_en route_ for his old State. - -His daughter, the horsewoman on the sorrel pony, was a sweet, lovely -girl of eighteen. Blessed with natural beauty, the several years’ -sojourn in Mexico had done much to enliven and develop it--being a -brunette she was rendered doubly comely by the fresh, dry air of that -country. - -Another of its pleasant freaks had it played upon her; it had given -her that much to be desired blessing, _perfect_ health. From a pallid, -feeble invalid she had become a jovial, blooming maid--a very picture -of sound health. During her residence in Mexico she had, without -losing her northern modesty and chastity, contracted the universal -_abandon_ of the graceful, indolent people, which, while it detracted -nothing from her purity, visibly added to her external attractions. -In one respect, however, she still clung to her former breeding--her -equitation. While it was, and is, customary for Mexican ladies, when -so inclined, to ride astride of a horse, and while she knew it was -much the easiest way, she still rode, as she termed it, “in civilized -fashion.” - -Christina Wheeler (Christina being curtailed to the tantalizing -appellation of Kissie) was a courageous, high-spirited girl. Though -being in possession of several masculine traits, she still preserved -that feminine reserve and chariness of conduct which is so necessary in -male eyes, and without which woman sinks to the level of a beautiful, -favorite dog, or a precise, costly gem. She was a kind and beloved -mistress to the few servants; and while treating them graciously -and well, brooked no unseemly or obtrusive familiarity. Besides her -beauty she was no nobler nor more intellectual than scores of women -one may chance upon during a day’s ride through a prosperous and -refined district. But her beauty was regal--more--bewitching, as many a -disappointed Mexican dandy only too well remembered, who had basked in -her impartial smiles only to mope and sulk afterward. - -Did I say impartial smiles? I was wrong--entirely so. If report -said truly, the sweetest were bestowed on her father’s chief man, -or foreman. He was with the party, being an adopted son of the old -gentleman. Sturdy, self-reliant and brave, and withal, handsome, being -brought up from infancy with Christina, no wonder her romantic spirit -had endowed him with all the qualities requisite as a hero. It had; -and as she gazed at him now, as he conversed with her father, she felt -pleased at seeing how much he relied on young Carpenter. - -The young man bestrode a light-colored steed, known from its peculiar -color throughout the western and southern States as a “clay-bank.” -He was well curried and rubbed down; indeed a curry-comb attached to -his saddle-horn denoted this was an every-day occurrence, even in the -desert. - -Such a man was Samuel Carpenter. At twenty-five years of age he well -understood wild life, and it showed his tidy, neat habits--every thing -belonging to him being kept in perfect order. - -The other two horsemen were rough-looking, wiry men of middle age. -One, mounted on a gray “States horse,” was Burt Scranton--Carpenter’s -assistant. The other was a man well known in southern Texas and -northern Mexico--“Tim Simpson, the guide.” - -The latter, for a stipulated sum, had agreed to conduct the party by -the shortest and quickest way to the Leavenworth and Texas trail--being -nearly four hundred miles from their present position. - -Like many others of his calling he was reticent in the extreme, -scarcely speaking save in monosyllables. He had several reasons for -this: one was that it _kept him out of trouble_; another, that he was -not annoyed by a cross-fire of questions, which guides detest. - -The teamsters were Kit Duncan, an American, and Napoleon and Louis -Robidoux, two brother Canadians, whom Joel Wheeler had brought from New -York. They were now returning with glad hearts toward their northern -home. - -It is unnecessary to state the party was well armed--every man carried -a rifle, and the regulation brace of revolvers and a “bowie.” The -wagons were drawn by horses--six to a wagon. - -Instead of sitting in the wagon and driving, the teamsters had adopted -the southern habit, of riding the “near” wheel-horse and guiding the -leaders by a single line. When wishing to “gee,” he steadily pulled -the line; to “haw,” a short jerk was sufficient. - -This is the party, its outfit and position, now on the southern bank of -the Gila. - -They forded the river and stood headed northward on the other side. Now -they were in the heart of the Indian country--now they must be wary and -guard against the hostile and cunning savages. - -“Well,” remarked Mr. Wheeler, looking north, “had we better stop here, -or go on?” - -The question was addressed to the guide, who was down on his knees -searching for Indian “sign.” He arose. - -“Stop hyar.” - -“Why? what are your reasons?” - -“Water hyar. No water fur forty mile.” - -“Is that so? Well, then we had better stop. We can’t afford to lie out -all night without water, can we Sam?” - -“No, sir,” replied the young man. “We should be obliged to fast if we -did. When the weather is sultry, especially on the southern prairies, -food begets thirst. We should suffer without water. Any old plainsman -will tell you when out of water to keep your stomach empty, unless -a dry cracker can be called food. It is true, medical men say the -reverse; but, sir, men that have suffered thirst know that food without -water is dangerous. _I have tried it._” - -“K’rect!” muttered the old guide, in assent. - -“Skience is one thing an’ experience is another,” declared Burt -Scranton. “I’ve studied one an’ tried t’other. Unhitch, boys.” - -All hands went to work to prepare for the night. While the preparations -for camping were going on, the cook, Kit Duncan (the hardest worked, -and consequently sourest and snarliest man in the party), who was also -a teamster, went down to the stream to fill his kettle with water. - -A “jack-rabbit,” startled at his approach, sprung from under a -projecting sand-point, and darted away up the bank. As it gracefully -and rapidly “loped” away, Christina (or Kissie, as we shall call her), -ever on the alert, noticed it. - -“Oh, what an enormous rabbit!” she cried. “The largest I ever saw. -Pray, Simpson, is that the common rabbit?” - -“No. Jack-rabbit.” - -“What a very odd name. Why do they call it so?” - -The guide did not give the true answer--that because of its resemblance -to a laughable beast of burden; but answered shortly, as he filled his -pipe: - -“Big ear; like--like--like--donkey.” - -“Oh, hum! I perceive. See, it has stopped under that little bush. -There--Oh, my! it is hurt--it is lame! see how it limps--I will catch -it, it is so curious.” - -Kissie was impulsive. Without further preface she lightly struck the -sorrel pony with her riding whip, and on a swift gallop went after the -rabbit, which slowly limped away. - -The guide, being the only idle one, alone noticed her. He shook with -suppressed laughter, awaiting the result. - -The guide well knew, though Kissie did not, that this strange rabbit -plays some unaccountable pranks, and is the direct cause of many hearty -laughs at a “greenhorn’s” expense. Seeing a human being, he at once -retreats, limping as if badly hurt. This attracts some one not “well -up” in prairie life, and he pursues it. But let the sequel tell its own -tale. - -As Kissie drew near, the rabbit bounded away as if suddenly cured of -its disability, gaining some distance; then he limped again--this time -dragging one of its hind-legs laboriously. - -His long ears were laid upon his back, which was suddenly shrunken, as -if by a shot in the spine; he pawed hastily with his fore-feet; and, -evidently, was badly hurt. Perhaps his sudden activity was the result -of severe fright, succeeded by a reaction--so reasoned Kissie. - -“Bunny, Bunny,” she cried, “you are mine--you are my captive.” - -She was quite close upon him, and was drawing closer at every spring. -The rabbit was almost caught. - -“Count not your chickens before they are hatched,” warns an old saw. -Perhaps it would have been better for Kissie to have recollected it. -But on she went, with no other desire or thought besides catching the -feebly-struggling animal. - -To her surprise she drew no nearer, though the rabbit seemed scarce -moving, and Dimple was going at a smart gallop. Surprised and nettled, -she plied the whip, and once again she was on the rabbit’s very heels. - -Once again the rabbit suddenly darted away as lightly as a deer; but -only for a few smart leaps. - -Again he seemed stricken by that odd impediment to his flight. It was -very strange--what could it mean? - -For an hour the strange chase continued, the participants sustaining -their respective positions, while Dimple panted and lagged, and Kissie -alternately wondered and plied the whip. - -It was a rare place for a protracted chase. For miles and miles -northward (the course they were following) the great, flat plain -stretched away--although level, always hard and solid. - -The chase still continued, still repeating itself: now a spurt, and -the rabbit is near; Bunny springs once or twice and the sorrel pony is -behind again. - -Once she thought she had heard a shout far behind; but intent upon -overtaking the rabbit, still kept on and looked not back. - -At last the chase was terminated rather suddenly. Evidently becoming -wearied with his frolics, the rabbit cast a single look behind, then to -Kissie’s utter dismay, darted away at full speed. - -She had seen frightened antelopes flee like the wind; she had seen -wild mustangs scour away in affright; but never before had she seen a -“jack-rabbit” on his mettle. - -There was a sudden streak before her, a small white speck bobbing up -and down; and when Kissie reined in the pony she was alone. The rabbit -was far away. - -“Duped! miserably deceived!” were her exclamations as the truth forced -itself upon her. “To think that insignificant creature had so much -reason in him. Why, he was only deceiving me, after all--a mean trick -to gratify his wicked little heart. I might have known it by the way he -acted. Well, I never; and what a laugh there will be when I get back. -Deceived by a paltry rabbit. I can imagine how they will laugh. Father -will never let me hear the last of it--neither will that horrid Burt -Scranton; only Sam will be my champion. And how that horrid guide will -grin, too--I declare it makes me provoked to think of it.” - -She pouted prettily and gazed where the sly animal had disappeared. -Then she spoke again: - -“Well, it is of no use that I can see--my remaining here. It is ’most -supper-time and I will go back, without my boasted capture. So, -Dimple--tired, pet? We are going back.” - -She turned the pony’s head around and slowly cantered off, still musing -over her defeat, without raising her head. - -She had ridden a mile, perhaps, when it occurred to her she had better -discover the whereabouts of the train. Accordingly she reined in, and -raising her eyes, slowly scanned the prairie before her. - -It was bare; the train was not in sight. - -Thinking some intervening hillock hid them from her sight, she rode -some distance at right angles; but still no white-capped wagons did she -see. - -She certainly must have become turned round; she must be bewildered as -to the direction she had been pursuing. - -But no. She distinctly remembered seeing her shadow at her right hand -when pursuing the rabbit. She was certain of that--quite sure. What -easier than to ride back, keeping the shadow to the left of her? She -could not then go astray. - -Christina was quick-witted. She had no sooner found the wagons were -not in sight when the above reflection ran through her mind. She was -impulsive, decided; and knowing this to be the only means of again -finding the wagons, started back, with her shadow over her left -shoulder. - -“Man proposes, God disposes.” - -She soon discovered that. No sooner had she started on the return -track, than, as if to vex and annoy her, a bank of snow-colored clouds -rose rapidly in the south. At the same moment a southerly breeze came -lightly over the plain. - -As said before, Kissie was a girl of keen and quick perceptions. She -saw the bank of clouds arising; she knew if not breeding a terrible -squall, they were at least rolling on to obscure the sun; then what -were her chances of regaining camp? - -She knew they were few; she knew the necessity of hard riding; and, -plying the whip again, rode at a gallop with the shadow still over her -left shoulder. - -On the Southern plains, as with the Southern people, changes come and -go with great speed. It was so in the present case; for before the -sorrel pony had cantered a mile the heavens above were clouded; the sun -was obscured. - -A loud, swishing noise accompanied the fleecy clouds, somewhat in the -rear of the advanced vapor. She reined in. - -She was sufficiently versed in Southern life to feel no alarm at the -approaching wind. Had it been from the north--a norther--she would have -trembled; but, coming from the south, she felt no alarm; it was nothing -but a “field” of drifting vapor, and in the course of an hour the sky -might be clear again. - -So, turning her pony’s hind quarters to the coming wind, she braced -herself and waited its approach. - -It came with a roar, and striking Dimple, almost took her off her feet; -but the sturdy little beast spread her legs and stood like a rock. -Almost as soon as told it was past, rushing toward the north, gathering -strength every moment: and, beyond a steady breeze, and a few floating -particles in the air, the atmosphere was quiet. - -Kissie looked at her tiny watch, and sighed: in another hour the sun -would sink below the horizon. What, then, would become of her if she -did not succeed in finding the camp? - -“I must ride somewhere,” she said, growing seriously alarmed. “If I -haven’t the sun to guide me I must steer without it.” - -So saying, she re-turned her pony’s head and rode away in a canter. - -She had not gone far when she reined in with a very white face. -Covering her eyes with her hands, she bowed her head, and her heart -sunk. - -“Oh, my God! what shall I do?” she moaned. “What shall I do? Where -shall I go?” - -Well might she feel alarmed! well might she be terror-stricken; for in -her abstraction _she had turned round twice_. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -ASLEEP IN THE LAND OF SILENCE. - - -“Turned round twice!” ejaculates the reader. “Why should she be -terrified at such a slight thing?” - -For a very good reason, for example: blindfold a person and after doing -so turn him twice in his tracks. He then will be unable to tell with -any degree of certainty to which point of the compass he is facing. -So it was with Kissie. Though not blindfolded, she might as well have -been, and might as well have turned round fifty times as twice. The -flat plain was everywhere the same monotonous expanse, nowhere showing -any landmarks, by the slightest depression or elevation. - -No wonder she was frightened, even terrified. Had she been in a settled -country, she would only have experienced vexation and discontent at -being forced to spend the night on the prairie; but here she was, far -from any settlement, lost from her companions, and in a hostile Indian -country. She knew the latter to be fierce and bloodthirsty, and was -aware they would not scruple to commit any outrage their cunning brains -might suggest. She knew they were predatory and gregarious, often -rambling in bands of from a dozen to fifty or a hundred. She knew also -they were _the_ fiends of the plains--either Comanches or Apaches, -dreaded alike by quiet _ranchero_ and courageous hunter. - -Should she meet with them, what would be her fate--what her doom? What-- - -At this point in her reflections Dimple pawed impatiently, and tossing -her head, snuffed the air; she was evidently fatigued and hungry and -was impatient at being kept at a standstill. - -“Quiet, Dimple! you are tired, pet; you have had a hard gallop after a -day’s march. Dear, dear me; that I had never left them.” - -But the pony was not very much fatigued. She was a pure mustang, but -recently captured and tamed, and could have galloped the entire day -without faltering. - -“Oh, where shall I go--what shall I do? Oh, heaven! I would I had never -left them. Be quiet, I say, Dimple? what do you mean?” - -The pony was stamping violently, and with tossing head was staring over -the plain. Mechanically Kissie followed his gaze. - -Away on the distant horizon (the eastern one, though she did not -know it) she saw a solitary speck, moving slowly. It was that which -had caused the mustang’s alarm. It had evidently been in sight for -some time, for now she remembered the pony had been restless for -considerable time. It was some animal, perhaps a solitary horseman. -Indeed, by straining her eyes, she was almost certain it was the -latter, as she thought she could distinguish the necessary outlines of -a mounted man. - -The object was a man, and mounted on a black powerful horse. It was -Pedro Felipe. - -Had she known it was a white man, had she any reason to suppose he was -not an enemy, she would have at once spurred toward him; but, knowing -that numerous Indians were at all times scouring the plains, she -desired rather to give him a wide berth, fearing he was one of that -dreaded race. - -She raised her whip, and striking the mustang sharply, was riding -away when a new object appeared on the horizon, opposite the Mexican. -Object? rather a number of blots, moving toward her. This she could -tell as they appeared stationary while they rose and fell, like a -galloping horse. - -She had seen such objects before, and knew they were galloping animals. -Knowing that scarcely any animals frequented the plain, from its -sterility, she readily became aware that they were a band of mounted -men. - -She felt her heart leap joyously; it was her friends. They had -doubtless become alarmed at her prolonged absence, and had started in -search of her. Filled with joy at the thought, she pressed on, her -fears at rest. Just then she looked for the far-distant, lone rider--he -was not in sight; he had vanished. - -Suddenly she stopped the mustang, and a deadly pallor overspread her -countenance, a wild fear arose within her. She had counted thirteen -distinct objects moving toward her. - -Her father’s party numbered seven--the one approaching numbered -thirteen; it could not be her friends--it could not. - -Who were they? Surely they were mounted men, surely they were not her -friends; who could they be? They were coming, miles away, directly -toward her. - -The truth flashed upon her, and her heart sunk like lead. Sitting -quietly in her saddle, she stared at them, drawing nearer every minute. -Then she became aroused. Wheeling suddenly she plied the whip, and the -wiry mustang, now somewhat refreshed, sprung away at a long, steady -gallop, and the blots behind scattered, collected again, then rose and -fell faster and shorter. The chase had commenced--she was pursued by -Indians. - -It was now sunset, as nearly as she could judge, and the cloudy sky -overhead promised a brief, dark twilight, to be succeeded by a dark, -murky night. The rainy season was now drawing near, and for aught she -knew the clouds above might be the “advance-guard.” This, at least, was -in her favor. - -Kissie was like her father--impulsive but cool. Looking back, she -calculated the distance between her and the flying savages. It was -nearly four miles. She looked at the sky and calculated that darkness -would fall in less than an hour. - -“They will have to ride like the wind to overtake Dimple in an hour,” -she said, with a small degree of hope. “Till then, Dimple, fly; in an -hour we may be safe for the present.” - -The mustang, as if cognizant of the importance of speed, tossed his -plucky head, then bending it down, “reached” like a quarter-horse; his -sensitive nose had warned him of the proximity of his former hated -foe--the red-man. Running without the incentive of whip or spur, he -stretched away; and behind came a dozen and one Apaches, grim and -resolved; they were on the war-trail. - -At that hour a flock of vultures wheeling above, high in the -zenith, looked down upon a strange scene--at least for that usually -deserted plain. Directly beneath were a flying maiden and galloping -Indians--the latter in hot pursuit of the former; both mounted on fleet -horses, both riding at full speed. - -A few miles to the west a solitary horseman was pursuing his way -northward, at a slow gallop. He was a Mexican--Pedro Felipe. At the -rate, and in the direction the maiden was riding, it would not be long -ere she would meet him--she riding north-westerly. Directly south and -nearly fifteen miles behind Pedro, rode a dark, ugly-looking man on a -black horse; and though the Mexican had left no visible trail, this -mysterious rider was following him, directly in his very tracks. Riders -on the savage-infested, weird plains generally look sharply in every -direction to avoid their dreaded foes; they generally, if alone, keep -close to timbered tracts; but this rider never gazed to the right, -left, or behind him--only keeping his gaze fixed toward the Land of -Silence. - -In a south-easterly direction from him was a train encamped on the -Gila, for the night. All the work had been finished. The horses were -lariated at hand; the rude kettle was boiling merrily; the cook was -swearing and grumbling, as usual; but all was not quiet. - -Ever and anon one of the several men lying lazily about would rise, -and shading his eyes, peer toward the north-east, as if in search of -something. - -He was invariably unsuccessful; and, after anxiously gazing for several -minutes, would return, and talk in low tones to his companions. - -Then several would start up together and peer over the north-western -plain; then, muttering anxiously, would return and lie down again, -talking earnestly; something was wrong. - -Even the cook, who was generally too hard at work, tired and surly -to pay attention to any thing outside of his “Dutch-oven,” would now -and then pause and look anxiously toward the north-west; it was plain -something was wrong. - -It was twilight on the vast plain, north of the Gila. Now the two -principal parties had visibly changed their positions. The Indians were -quite near, having gained two miles in light--a vast gain; they must -have ridden like the wind, or the sorrel mustang must have lagged. - -The last was the case. From some hidden reason Dimple had lost his -swift run, and was going at a faltering canter--he was unaccountably -fatigued or injured. She could hear faintly the hideous yells behind--a -mile and a half distant. - -At this, with her last hope giving way, she plied the whip. - -The mustang obeyed, and for a few lengths galloped briskly, but soon -collapsed, and feebly cantered on. She felt terrified at the thought of -captivity and prayed for rescue. - -It came. The twilight was almost over, then pitchy darkness would -shield her from her red enemies. The moon rose about three hours after -sundown--she could easily elude them until that time; then, perhaps, -she would be safe. - -Another circumstance, far more potent, was in her favor. The soil of -the plain, baked hard after months of drought, left no impression -of the mustang’s hoof, consequently she could not be traced by the -hoof-marks. It was not probable, after having eluded them, that in this -wide, vast plain they could chance upon her again. So, if she succeeded -in escaping, for the present she was in comparative safety. - -She succeeded. The darkness swiftly gathered down over the plain; she -lost sight of her pursuers, though still hearing their hideous yells; -and they, in turn, lost sight of her. - -Fifteen minutes later, on pausing and waiting a few moments, Kissie -heard them gallop by in the darkness, not ten rods away. Then she -turned and rode for an hour in an opposite direction; for the present -she was safe. - -Alighting, she left Dimple to graze at will on the scanty herbage; and, -conscious the timid mustang would awaken her by stamping, should danger -come, lay down, and, completely worn out, fell into a light, troubled -sleep. - -The chase had not amounted to much--the odds, large ones, being in her -favor; but while she had escaped from them, she had ridden many miles -further from her friends. - -Alone in the desert, guarded by the wary, timid pony, she slept; and -the night was dark and gloomy in the Land of Silence--for she was -within its ghostly border. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -CIMARRON JACK. - - -As the first gray streaks of dawn slanted across the eastern horizon, -the little camp on the Gila was astir, and the members were bustling -about. Anxious faces they were; their movements were hurried and -nervous; and the general aspect of the camp was one of alarm and -anxiety. - -There is evidently a great commotion in camp; ever and anon the men -scan the surrounding horizon; and one and all wear the same anxious -look; what is the matter? - -The question is answered almost as soon as asked, as a cry arises -from one of the watchers. The others start to their feet (they are at -present bolting a hasty breakfast) and following their companion’s gaze -see a horseman coming along the river bank. He is quite near, having -been coming under the bank, and consequently unseen by them. - -“Simpson! the guide!” shout one or two voices; then two others add, -with a groan, “and alone.” - -“And alone!” cry the rest, gloomily. - -The guide was coming slowly, his mustang lagging with drooping head, as -if just freed from a hard, long ride. The guide, too, though generally -reserved, was moody, and wore a sort of apologetic, shame-faced air. - -Joel Wheeler and young Carpenter sprung to meet him. - -“Have you seen her?” asked Mr. Wheeler, though knowing the question was -a superfluous one. The guide shook his head. - -“Nor any trace of her?” hastily added Carpenter. Simpson slowly shook -his head again. - -“Not at all--no sign?” - -“Nary mark, sign, trail, trace--nary nuthin’. Blast the luck!” he -added, in sudden ire; “I’ve done rode over every squar’ inch of this -kentry sence last night, fur miles around. She ain’t nowhar ’round -hyar, that’s sartain shure.” - -It was only too evident the guide spoke truthfully. His fatigued, -travel-worn steed, panting deeply, and his own wearied air, showed he -had ridden far and swiftly. - -“Yer see’d no one, then?” asked Burt Scranton. - -“Who sed I never see’d no one?” hastily retorted Simpson. - -“You did.” - -“I didn’t!” - -“What did you say, then?” - -“Thet I hedn’t see’d the lady--and I hevn’t.” - -“You have seen some one, then?” asked Carpenter. - -“Yes, I hev.” - -“Whom?” - -The guide brought his fist down on his knees: - -“A sperrit.” - -“A spirit? Nonsense! Where?” - -“Up hyar, a piece--in a kentry called the Land of Silence.” - -“Ah! the Land of Silence,” and Burt slowly shook his head. “I’ve heerd -on that place.” - -The Canadians looked incredulous and grinned. Seeing them in the act, -the guide, nettled, burst out: - -“Yes, and yer may jist bet yer hides I don’t want ter see it ag’in, -now. By thunder! ef I warn’t skeered I never was, and every one of ye’s -heerd of Simpson, the guide--every one of ye know ’t I ain’t no coward, -neither.” - -“What did it look like?” asked Kit Duncan. - -The guide slowly dismounted, and flinging his arm over his saddle, said: - -“It war the ghost of the Trailer.” - -“The Trailer!” echoed Burt. - -“Yes, the Trailer. Jest the same as he allus war, in his peaked hat and -black feather, jest the same as ever he war, armed ter kill, he rode -his old black hoss right by me, not ten feet off. Gee-whittaker! I ked -hev touched him.” - -“Did he speak?” asked Louis Robidoux, in a quizzical manner. - -“Thet’s the wust of it. When he got clos’t ter me, he turned his face -too-ward me. Gee-crymini! how white his face war.” - -“What did he say?” - -“‘You air ridin’ late, Tim Simpson.’” - -“Is that all?” - -“Gee-whiz! ain’t thet enough?” - -“Why didn’t you shoot him?” - -“I war too skeered--I know’d ’twar no mortal man.” - -“How did you know?” - -“Cuss yer! a woman’s nuthin’ ter yer on the ke-westion. How did I know? -Wal, the Trailer’s got a grudge ag’in’ me, an’ ef he’d been a man don’t -yer see he’d ’a’ plugged me afore I see’d him? He war a fee-rocious -man, thet Trailer, and ef he war alive when I met him, he’d ’a’ sure -plugged me. He didn’t, and thet shows he’s dead. Durn it! I _know_ he’s -dead; Pedro Felipe killed him in the Land of Silence, over a year ago. -I see’d his skeleton onc’t.” - -“Halloa!” exclaimed Burt, suddenly. “Look thar!” and he pointed down -the river. All eyes followed the direction. - -A man mounted on a trim bay horse was seen advancing at a long, -swinging lope, quite near. He had drawn close during the dialogue, -unnoticed, and was coming boldly on, as if he feared no danger. Simpson -immediately recognized him. - -“Cimarron Jack!” he cried. “Gee-menentli! hooray!” - -The rider stopped and drew a revolver. - -“Who is there?” he demanded, in a rich, musical voice, with a purity of -accent rarely seen on the southern plains. - -“Tim Simpson, the guide!” - -“Is that so? Hurrah! I’m Cimarron Jack, the tiger, and I’m a -thorough-bred from Tartary, I tell _you_.” - -Belting his revolver, he struck spurs to his splendid bay, and the next -moment was heartily shaking Simpson by the hand, wrenching it violently. - -“I’m an elephant, _I_ am!” he shouted, in stentorian tones, addressing -the entire party. “I’m a Feejee dancing-master, and where’s the man -that’ll say ‘boo’ to this chap? I’m the fellow who killed cock-robin!” - -“You are jest in time, Jack,” said the guide. “We want yer ter help us.” - -Nowhere in America do men come so quickly “to the point,” as on -the vast South-western plains. Meet a friend you have not seen for -years--he is in trouble, mayhap. You have scarcely time to greet him -before he informs you of his embarrassment, and requests your immediate -assistance. You instantly, if you are a “plainsman,” grant his -request--it is often policy to do so. - -Cimarron Jack was a noted ranger and inexplicable man. While his -whole conversation was a series of boastings and vaunts, while a more -conceited man perhaps never breathed, he had one trait which was the -very opposite, paradoxical as it may appear--he believed that others -were as keen and shrewd as himself, and, when on the war-path, believed -his enemy as bold and crafty as himself--the predominating trait of the -shrewdest detectives in the world. - -To describe him, his dress and manner, were a long and hard task. -Closely-knit, six feet and three inches in hight, with the arm of a -blacksmith, and the leg of a cassowary, he was a formidable enemy when -aroused, and he was a man of iron nerve. Withal, he was at times as -tender as a woman, and was always upright and honest. - -Imagine a giant on a splendid bay stallion, with weapons of all sorts, -sizes and nationalities slung about him; with red, green, blue, -gray--in short, every color--feathers twisted into his clothing, -long boots, painted in different colors--looking like an insane -person--imagine this, and you are distantly acquainted with Cimarron -Jack, the ranger, hunter and Indian-fighter. - -“What do you want with the king-pin of all rifle-shots? Show me a star, -and I’ll knock the twinkle out of it with a Number One buckshot.” - -The party stared at him aghast. Never before had they seen such a -fantastical braggadocio. Had they never before heard of him they would -have deemed him a raving maniac, and would have given him a wide berth. -But every one who was in that country at that time--184--, had heard of -the far-famed Cimarron Jack. - -“What do you want with the people’s favorite?” he demanded. “Come--the -court is impatient.” - -Joel Wheeler stepped forward and said: “Sir, we are--” - -“Don’t ‘sir’ me!” interrupted the ranger. “I’m Cimarron Jack, and I’m -the cock of the walk.” - -“Well then, Cimarron Jack, my daughter strayed away last night and -we fear she is lost--indeed, we are positive she is. The country is -infested with Indians--” - -“You can’t tell me any thing about Indians, for my education in that -direction is finished. Hurrah! three genuine cheers and a tiger for the -man that can’t be beat!” - -Snatching his _sombrero_ from his head, he swung it aloft, cheering -himself lustily. Then he replaced the hat and listened gravely. - -“It is only too evident that Christina is lost. Cognizant that the -country is swarming with hostile Apaches and Comanches, we are very -much alarmed. You are a noted scout and tracker--I’ve frequently heard -of you; and if you will lend us your assistance in searching for her, I -will cheerfully pay any price you may ask.” - -“Count me in--just score the grizzly-tamer on the rolls. But stop!” -he added, his face becoming grave, and addressing Simpson. “Is the -beauteous maid fair to look upon?” - -“Ef thar ever was an angel on airth, she’s the one,” emphatically -pronounced the guide. - -“Then hurrah! blood raw, blood raw! cut your palate out and eat it--you -are just shouting I will. I’m a thorough-bred, sired by Colossus.” - -“Are you willing to go, then?” demanded Carpenter. - -“You’re talking I am.” - -“Well, just tell the men to hitch up the horses, Burt.” - -Scranton turned to execute the order, and Mr. Wheeler called a -consultation of the principal men, Cimarron Jack, Carpenter and -Simpson, to decide upon the most feasible plan for recovering Kissie. -He was much alarmed. Although for years accustomed to Kissie’s vagaries -and erratic wanderings, he was now alarmed in good earnest. She had -often ridden away from the train on some expedition, but she had always -returned punctually. But now they were in a country overrun with -hostile, ferocious Indians, who were capable of any fiendish deed, and -quite unscrupulous enough to execute it. - -But there were other dangers near by, if not quite as potent. Here in -this hot, vast plain water was scarce, though the country was “cut up” -by creeks. These, however, were entirely dry nine months in the year, -and this season was uncommonly dry. Then, too, savage and large beasts -roamed the plain. The large gray wolf hunted in packs, ready when -hungry to follow and run down a human being; the grizzly often came -down from his cave in the mountains to prey upon the animals in the -plain; and many other animals, quite as ferocious and cunning, roamed -the illimitable waste. - -Should she avoid all these dangers; should she elude the fierce Apache, -the gray wolf and grizzly bear; should she be fortunate enough to -discover water, a thing scarcely possible, there was another danger to -be dreaded--hunger. - -She was not armed, and procuring food on the barren plain, without -the necessary weapons, was impossible. She could procure no food from -the herbage--it was scant, dry and short. She was undoubtedly in a -desperate predicament. - -Mr. Wheeler revolved these several contingencies in his mind, and grew -sad and moody. Carpenter noticed his dejection, and though anxious and -sad himself, endeavored to cheer him. - -“Come, cheer up,” he said, laying his hand upon his shoulder. “The case -may not be so desperate after all. While there is life there is hope, -you know.” - -“Sam, I know you can sympathize with me--you are the only one who can -appreciate my agony, for it is positive agony. To think of the dear -child, heaven knows where, suffering and heart-sick, almost distracts -me. Sam, I fear the worst.” - -“Come, sir, come; you must not talk like that. She only rode away after -a rabbit--she, mayhap, has become confused, perhaps lost. But the -sorrel mustang is sagacious, and doubtless ere this is scenting back -toward us. I know he will come back if she will give him his head.” - -“A thing she will not think of doing,” replied Mr. Wheeler. “If she is -lost, she is lost, indeed--there is no end to this vast plain.” - -“But she must have left a trail, and with two such famous men as -Cimarron Jack and Simpson, we can surely trail her. Those two men are -prodigies, sir--they are famous even among their fellow-countrymen. -Cheer up, sir--see, they are ready to start. Shall I saddle your horse, -sir?” - -“If you will, Sam. I am so perplexed I am fit for nothing.” - -“I will do it, sir. Take my word for it, sir, we will soon find her.” - -“God grant it!” was the fervent reply. - -The result of the council was this: the guide, Cimarron Jack, Mr. -Wheeler, and Sam, were to ride toward the north-west, if possible on -Kissie’s trail. Burt Scranton and the teamster would follow with the -wagons. The trailing party would proceed moderately, while the wagons -would move at a much faster rate than usual to keep in sight. This was -done to avoid being separated by Indians, should they meet with any. -This arrangement (Cimarron Jack’s suggestion) afterward proved a wise -one. But more anon. - -“Are you ready?” said Jack, vaulting into his saddle. “If you are, -follow the man who can thrash his weight in wild-cats with a ton of -grizzlies thrown in too to make the skirmish interesting.” - -“Yer ain’t quit yer bragging yet, I see,” remarked the guide. - -“Bragging! _me_ brag? d’ye mean it? whiz! I’ll cut your palate out and -eat it--yes, I will, you know that yourself. Blood raw, blood raw! I’m -the man that never says ‘boo’ to a lame chicken.” - -“Hyar’s her trail,” observed the guide. - -Jack vaulted backward to the ground, examined it, swore an oath or two, -lit his pipe, boasted a little, then remounted and rode off on the -faint, very dim trail, with the wagons rumbling after; the search had -commenced. - -The guide ever and anon raised his head and peered off into the -northern, purple-tinted distance, as if half afraid of seeing some -disagreeable object. However, he held his peace and relapsed into his -usual, but for some time, abandoned taciturnity. Must the truth be -spoken? The guide was alarmed. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -A DEAD MAN’S GHOST. - - -On the day after Pedro left the Gila he arrived at the old robber -hillock. As he rode up to it, he mechanically looked for a skeleton he -expected to see there--the skeleton of the Trailer. To his surprise not -a bone of it was there, where he left the body. - -Could the Trailer have come to life? impossible--he was killed -instantly. Pedro had shot him from behind, the ball entering his back -and penetrating to his heart. No--it could not be possible. - -But the skeleton--where was it? of course the body had been devoured -by carnivorous animals--as a matter of course it had been; but animals -never swallow the bones--they should be there still. - -Pedro was perplexed and looked off over the plain, as if for an answer. -He got none. Everywhere, in every direction, it was the same monotonous -expanse--always yellow, dry and quiet, always spectral and forbidding; -he was in the heart of the Land of Silence. - -“The skeleton--where in the world can it be?” he muttered, glancing -about. “Curse it, I begin to feel awkward and uneasy already. This is -a cursed quiet place--this plain; and such a name as it has, too; just -the place for spirits to roam about in. I am beginning to believe they -have tampered with the Trailer’s bones--I do, indeed. Ha! what’s that?” - -He had espied something white at a distance away--something which -looked dry and bleached, like bones long exposed to the elements. He -rode slowly toward it; it (or they) was a bunch of bones clustered -together, as if thrown hastily in a pile. - -He took them one by one in his hands and narrowly examined them. They -were human, he could tell--might they not be the Trailer’s? They -were much too small, he thought, still one is deceived ofttimes by -appearances. The Trailer had been a large man--a giant; these bones -were rather small. - -Still he knew he had not seen them when here a year ago--they had not -been there then. These bones were about a year old; that is, exposed to -the elements. A year ago he had killed the Trailer, the last robber on -the spot--the bones must be his. - -“They are the Trailer’s--they must be,” he said, and idly kicking them, -mounted and rode back to the hill or mound. - -To describe this singular place would be a long task, so we will skim -briefly over it. About forty feet long by twenty in hight, it was a -mere shell--probably a hiding-place contrived centuries ago. It was -entered in this manner by Pedro. - -Scattered over the surface of the knoll were a large number of flat -stones. Lifting one of the largest of these, he hurled it against one -imbedded in the ground, dented in the form of a cross. The ground -suddenly gave way and disclosed an opening sufficient to admit a horse. - -It was a plank-trap; cunningly covered with earth, its existence would -never have been suspected by the uninitiated. It was hung on stout -leathern hinges fastened to two upright posts. - -The hollow hill was divided into two chambers, one within the other. -The first was dark and was only lighted by the opening of the door. The -floor was the ground, the walls the hillside, the ceiling the summit. -The only furniture it contained was a huge water-bucket, a rusty gun -or two, several tattered blankets, and a resinous, partially-consumed -torch. - -Pedro noticed this torch, and his eyes sparkled. - -“Just where I left it a year ago--in this chink. Now I am certain I was -the last one here--now am I certain of finding the hidden treasure.” - -He lighted the torch, and after looking out into the plain, started -toward the inner chamber. But suddenly stopping, he went back to the -entrance. - -“I might as well bring the horse inside now,” he said. “Perhaps I may -be obliged to spend a week here. He will be out of sight, too.” - -Going out he brought in the horse, and then tightly closed the -entrance. Then his eyes fell on the water-vessel. - -“I wish I had some water,” he said; “and no doubt the horse thinks the -same. But there is a stream ten miles north--Alkali Creek. The water is -not very good, but it is wet. I will go after I’ve searched awhile.” - -Unsaddling the horse, and leaving him to roam at will about the -chamber, he again took up the torch and went to the entrance of the -inner one. - -This was a mere slit in the hillside, barely large enough for him to -enter. However, his pliant body enabled him to glide through, and -standing in the entrance, he threw the light over the apartment. - -It was empty, just as he had expected. It was unchanged, too--further -evidence that there had been no one there since he had left. His -spirits rose at every step, and his way was becoming certain. - -This chamber was somewhat larger than the other, and was lighter, the -chinks above being larger. It was also scantily furnished, and in the -same manner as the first. - -A pile of blankets lay in one corner, and were evidently long unused. A -single gun stood by them--a rifle. Otherwise the room was empty. - -Pedro, after satisfying himself as to other occupants, with his -habitual energy began at once to work. Drawing his revolver, he hastily -uncapped the tubes, then, lighted by his torch, commenced to sound the -wall, the ceiling, the floor--in fact, everything which might conceal -the treasure he knew was there. - -Outside the sun still shone upon the bare plain, blinding with its heat -the few small animals which stole about, the only moving objects on the -plain. - -The _only_ moving objects? Not so; there was another one--a man riding -a black horse. Several miles away from the hillock, he was coming, at a -slow walk, from the south; going north and to the hillock. - -An hour passed. Pedro was working steadily inside, at intervals -muttering disjointed sentences. The solitary rider drew near, and -halted close to the hillock. - -He was dressed in a tight-fitting suit of buck-skin, and in his black, -conical hat, a black plume drooped. Armed to the teeth, he was a -desperate-appearing person. His face, bearing the marks of license to -strong and evil passions, was pale in the extreme--even ghastly. - -He halted before the entrance, and just then Pedro exclaimed below--he -was excited about something. Then he rode round to the opposite side of -the hillock, and drawing up, facing it, sat like a statue on his black -horse. - - * * * * * - -A fierce cry came from the cavern--a cry of wild delight. This was -followed by a series of disjointed exclamations, expressive of the -wildest joy. Then came hurried tramping to and fro--then dead silence. -Outside the rider still sat on his sable steed, and remained grim and -quiet, never changing a muscle. All was quiet in the Land of Silence. - - * * * * * - -It was toward the middle of the afternoon when Pedro burst out -of the entrance gesticulating extravagantly, and fairly shouting -under the influence of some strong emotion. In his hand he held his -horse-blanket, tied into a rude bag; it was loaded with something that -chinked musically. - -“Found! found!” he cried. “What fortune--what extraordinary luck! Only -three hours’ searching, too. Oh, holy mother! what shall I do with -all this wealth? Pedro, Pedro Felipe, you are as rich as the richest. -Blessed be all the saints! what fortune, what fortune!” - -This grave, demure man of forty, fairly danced in excitement, and shook -the bag violently. - -Chink, chink! a musical rattle that. More than one man has gone crazy -over less. Huzzah! huzzah! the treasure is found. - -He has feasted his eyes on it before; but, wild with excitement, can -not keep his eyes off from it. In his agitation he had forgotten his -horse, and with the bag on his shoulder, had been starting on foot for -Mexico. But now he sunk on his knees, and opening the blanket-bag, -shook it. - -Heavens! what a sight. Rolling out in a sparkling cascade came coin, -gold and silver, ornaments of the same metals, costly watches, splendid -rings, and guards, and above all, gleaming, sparkling diamonds. -Diamonds set in magnificent rings; diamonds garnishing costly -brooches; diamonds cut and rough, large and tiny; what a fortune, what -beautiful, bewitching riches was there. - -Spread out on the ground, Pedro gazed fascinated upon his precious -treasure, and well he might. Here a deep amethyst glimmered and -shone, hob-nobbing, as it were, with a brilliant diamond; yonder a -sparkling seal clung closely with a shining watch guard. Diamonds -were sprinkled about pell-mell among all sorts and sizes of costly -jewels, expensive watches, and piles of golden and silver coin of large -denominations; here a solitary ruby flashed and shimmered; but, above -all, outstripping all, was a huge topaz, mocking the sun by its deep, -transparent yellow tint; it was a gem among gems. - -Pedro had not formed any idea of the value of his treasure--his brain -was so demented he could not have counted twenty correctly. But he -saw the coins were all among the highest ever sent from the mint, and -nearly all gold; but he had not the slightest idea of the value of the -jewels--he only knew he was immensely rich. - -“Ah, my yellow, shining, pretty pets!” he exclaimed, filling the bag -again. “My darlings! you have made me the richest man in the wide -world. Brave, yellow, sparkling boys!” - -A horse stamped close by. He listened intently. - -Another stamp and a shrill neigh from a strange horse. Pedro turned -sick, his brain reeled, and a deadly nausea seized him. - -Suddenly recovering, he threw the bag into the entrance, and drew his -jeweled dagger--his rifle was inside. - -“Who’s there?” he hoarsely said, peering off into the plain. “Speak! -man or ghost! who is near--who is there?” - -Nothing--no one; the plain is bare. All is quiet in the Land of Silence. - -“Murder! help! who’s there? Oh, heaven, my gold!” - -He saw the plain was bare, and that he was alone. He drew a breath of -relief--might he not have been deceived? - -Perhaps. He prayed so. But stay--the hillock hid a part of the plain -from view. He would ascend it and discover evil if it was at hand. - -With a hoarse cry he brandished his dagger, and with two gigantic -strides stood on the summit. - -But only for a moment, he stood there with a pale, terrified face, -staring eye and shaking limbs. Then reeling, with a loud cry he rushed -down into the cave and closed the entrance, terrified almost beyond his -senses. - -What was the matter--what had happened? Enough. There, on his old black -horse, under his plumed black hat, sat _the ghost of the Trailer_. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -KISSIE FINDS A FRIEND. - - -Pedro sat behind the closed entrance, lowering savagely through the -glimmering chinks, and almost beside himself with astonishment, vague -fear, and wonder. He had recovered his gun and was clutching it, ready -to fire at the smallest rustle above; his precious treasure formed a -costly seat, on which he squatted; afraid of the cave, afraid of the -darkness, the ghost, his own horse, and even of himself. - -Do not infer from this that Pedro was a coward. On the contrary, he -was brave--a bolder man never drew breath. He was far-famed for his -bravery. But, “put yourself in his place,” and cease to wonder at his -alarm. - -An hour passed, during which he fancied he heard a slight noise -overhead. But if there was one, it was slight, scarcely discernible. -He began to regain his habitual equanimity, and to try and laugh down -his fears. But the latter was no easy task. To see the perfect form of -a man he had shot through the heart a year ago--to see him mounted on -the same steed he had dropped him from--to see his wicked, gleaming eye -fixed upon him in deadly, unrelenting hate--and above all, to meet him -at _this_ place, in the country noted for its specters, was enough, -as he strongly declared, “to scare the Old Nick out of ten years’ -wickedness.” - -Plucking up courage, he advanced to open the trap and peer out. Just -then he heard a footfall above--he drew back again, seized with fear. - -The footfall became two, then three, then grew into a succession -of patters. He knew the sound--it was a horse. He did not stop to -conjecture--he did not hesitate or draw a timid breath; but angry at -himself for being alarmed, boldly threw open the trap, and with ready -rifle, peered out. - -His eyes fell upon a fair young girl coming directly toward him on a -sorrel mustang, the latter apparently wandering aimlessly at an easy -amble. Her eyes were fixed on the distant plain beyond the hillock, and -were wandering, as if she saw nothing to attract her attention. - -“It is strange she does not see it!” observed Pedro--“very strange. But -stay! the hillock is higher than its head, and so she does not perceive -it. But she will--she will.” - -But she did not, and came on directly toward the entrance. Suddenly, -when quite close, the mustang snorted, tossed her head, and shied away -from something in front of her. - -“Ah!” he muttered, “then it was no optical illusion--it is, in truth, a -spirit.” - -But he was deceived. If the mustang saw the form behind the hill, the -lady did not, and being higher than her steed had a better opportunity -for discovering it. - -“Be quiet, Dimple!” commanded the lady. “It is only some large -burrow--it is nothing to alarm you. Be quiet, I say!” - -Pedro stared. From where she was now (the mustang having darted to a -point which allowed a full view of the hillock) she could have easily -seen the form had he been there. But she did not, and of course he -was not in sight--the pony was alarmed at the yawning entrance, which -showed gloomily against the yellow hillock. - -Pedro’s fears were over. Wondering why a lady--a white and beautiful -American lady--should be alone on this wild, sterile plain, he resolved -to make himself known. Perhaps she was in distress--mayhap she had just -escaped from captivity and needed assistance. - -Gallantry was one of his predominating traits. - -Casting aside his weapons, and wearing an easy, good-natured air, -which became him, he stepped carelessly out in full view. Lifting his -sombrero, he said, with an assuring smile: - -“Senorita, your servant.” - -Snort! The mustang was twenty yards away in five seconds, and the lady, -unseated, was on the ground, wildly alarmed, but not injured; the timid -mustang had thrown her in its sudden fright. - -She arose and fled toward her mustang, but the treacherous animal -galloped away, and halting a hundred yards distant, tossed her head and -regarded the strange man wildly. Seeing she could not recover her steed -in her present state of mind, she turned to Pedro, doubting and fearing -him. He saw she mistrusted him, and again raising his sombrero, again -bowed low. - -“Fear not, senorita--fear not; I am a friend.” - -“A friend? Who are you?” - -“Pedro Felipe, senorita. Do you need assistance?” - -“Oh, yes, sir; I am in great trouble. I am lost from my friends. I was -chased by Indians last night. I am very hungry and tired; I have not -tasted food since yesterday at noon.” - -Pedro, eying her admiringly, noticed her sweet face was pale and worn. -Ever ready to assist a fellow-creature, he started toward the entrance. - -“Enter, senorita, enter. But stay,” he added, in a low tone; “do you -see any thing on the other side of the hill?” - -“No, sir--nothing. No one is visible.” - -“It is well. Senorita, if you will come in here you will find food, -such as it is. There are blankets, also, if you need rest.” - -But she hung back. She feared to enter that strange, yawning hole with -this man, even if he did look and act like an honest man. - -“My pony, Dimple,” she said, hesitatingly. “I am afraid she will go -astray.” - -“Never fear, senorita--I will bring her back to you, if she does.” - -“But--but--” - -“Ah I perceive, senorita--you wrong me. I have been too long a -companion and servant of my kind master in Mexico--Senor Martinez--to -harm a lady. I--” - -“Why! are you the Pedro that lives at that grand old place? Why, our -farm was quite close to it! My father is Mr. Wheeler.” - -“Ah! then I am fortunate in having an opportunity to serve you. Your -party is on their way north, is it not?” - -“Yes, sir. Do you know any of them?” - -“Only Simpson, the guide. He is an old friend of mine. Many is the time -we have fled from Apaches. I started from the hacienda on the morning -you started for the north. I saw your party, several days ago, down on -the Santa Cruz river.” - -“Then you will help me to find my friends?” - -“Assuredly, senorita. Come in and rest. My accommodations are poor, but -they are better than none. Come in, senorita.” - -No longer she feared to enter that forbidding aperture, but led by -Pedro, walked in. The mustang, seeing her mistress disappear, came -slowly toward the entrance. - -“Why, what a dismal, gloomy place,” said Kissie, timidly halting in the -entrance. “What is it--who lives here?” - -“It is an old outlaw den,” replied Pedro. “But no outlaws occupy it -now--its only resident is your servant.” - -Much she marveled, but she did not ask any questions, as she was faint -from lack of nourishment. Pedro, for security’s sake, led her into the -second chamber, and shaking up the tattered, musty blankets, bade her -rest while he procured food, he going out for the purpose. - -She reclined on the soft blankets, greatly surprised at the strange -events in which she had participated. But she did so unaccompanied by -any feelings of alarm or of grief, for now she had found a haven of -rest. - -She sunk into a dreamy doze, delicious for its being indulged in -perfect safety. She had heard of the man outside--she was aware he was -a far-famed and respected scout and warrior; she knew he would protect -her. She could hear him in the next room stirring about, whistling -under his breath, and the savory odor of roasting meat floated to her -nostrils. A lingering trace of uneasiness alone remained--she knew her -friends would be alarmed about her. - -This latter feeling was not strong enough to seriously alarm her, as -she conceived it an easy task for them to find her. Mingling with it -was a delicious sense of security and peace, of rest and nourishment, -and the savory smell of the adjoining cookery. Gradually these blended -into one feeling; Pedro’s whistle outside became more melodious and -softer--the dull, gloomy air of the dark apartment soothed her, and she -fell asleep. - -Pedro, as he cooked his bit of venison (he had killed an antelope -when on the Gila), reflected and pondered, and his thoughts shaped -themselves into words. - -“She is asleep--I can hear her breathe. It is strange, very strange, -that she did not see it. It was no mistake of mine, that I know. What, -then, was it? The Trailer’s ghost. - -“Pshaw! I killed him a year ago, and saw him fall dead with my own -eyes. It can not--it can not be. - -“But I saw him. Ah, that is only too certain. Sitting on his old black -horse, under that waving black plume, and in the same old dress. I saw -him--I _know_ I saw him. Pedro Felipe, there is no fighting away the -fact--you are haunted.” - -He shuddered, strong man as he was, and going to the entrance, looked -out. Still the hot breeze came from the south, still the hot sun stared -down upon the yellow plain, still all was quiet. Only the mustang was -in sight, browsing at a little distance, with his head turned toward -the east. - -“I must lariat that mustang,” said Pedro. “There are too many Indians -about for him to show our retreat. Yes, I will lariat him.” - -Perhaps one motive for doing so was, that going out he might peer over -the hill. He dreaded a second appearance of the apparition, and though -he would not acknowledge it to himself, cordially feared it. It was not -to his discredit, however. - -He took his lariat, or lasso, from his saddle, which lay on the floor, -the horse lying near. Then he stepped out, still keeping one corner of -his eye toward the summit of the hill. - -Suddenly he stopped. - -“What if she should awake and discover my treasure!” he thought, -trembling for its safety, though he knew she was perfectly to be -trusted. - -It was lying in a corner still, in the bag. He threw the water-bucket, -a blanket and his saddle over it. - -“That will suffice for the present,” he said; then casting an eye -toward the inner room, went out with his lariat. - -The mustang still browsed, tail toward him. It was an excellent -opportunity for a capture, and he would profit by it. So, making a -running-noose at one end, he coiled his lariat, and taking the coil in -his hand, began to swing it over his head. At the same time he allowed -the noose full play, by this means increasing its size until it became -several feet in diameter. Such is the apparently simple manner of -throwing the lasso. - -The noose became larger and wider, the amount of rope in his hand -became less; in another moment the noose would be over the animal’s -head. - -It did not leave his hand. Just before he had got ready to let it fly, -a voice close by said: - -“Aim well, Pedro Felipe.” - -He started, dropped his rope, and stared round. He was alone--no one -had spoken. Was it imagination?--the mustang still browsed--she had not -heard it. It was a false alarm. - -Again he picked up his rope. Again the voice spoke, this time harshly. - -“Take care, Pedro!” - -Dropping his rope, he flew to the summit and looked over the plain. No -one was in sight--no apparition, no Indian, no human being. - -Then with a pale face he darted toward the entrance, with the -ejaculated words: - -“The voice of the Trailer!” - -The trap-door rung harshly as he slammed it to from the inside. The -mustang heard the sound, tossed his head, and galloped away a short -distance, then stopped and looked at the hillock. - -It was bare--no one was in sight. Relieved of her sudden fear, she -dropped her head and grazed again. The sun slowly set over the Land of -Silence. - -Who spoke? - -The man with the black plume in his conical hat. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -“APACHES!” - - -The pursuing band wound away over the plain, now, at four hours from -sunrise, invisible from the banks of the Gila. - -They were, as has been said, divided into two separate parties. That of -Cimarron Jack was in advance, the riders urging on their steeds at a -swift amble. The wagons behind under charge of Burt Scranton, rattled -along merrily, drawn by horses kept at a slow trot. - -“I say,” said Jack, as they trotted on, “we are nearly into the Land of -Silence, now, ain’t we?” - -This remark was addressed to the guide. He nodded. - -“And now we’ve got to look out for Apaches.” - -“No ’Patchies hyar.” - -“Yes, there are.” - -“I know better. Never come inter this kentry. Too dry.” - -“Well, there are Apaches prowling about now--that I know to be a fact.” - -“Know more’n I do, then.” - -“You bet I do. Hooray! three cheers for the man who can clean out a -whole jail-full of prize-fighters; a tiger for the stoutest, smartest -man in the world. I can thrash a jungle-full of gorillas, myself. I -tell _you_. I’m the man that can’t be fazed, myself; and I’m the cock -of the walk.” - -“I’m sick of thet durned braggin’,” growled Simpson. “Heerd northin’ -else sence I fust see’d yer.” - -“And you are liable to continue hearing it, too.” - -“Durn me ef I kain’t stop it.” - -“Yes you can--with a big copper.” - -“Well, I kin.” - -“Le’s see you try it.” - -“Hark!” suddenly cried Carpenter. “Was not that a gun-shot?” - -The friendly disputants ceased their strife, and halting and turning -in their saddles, listened long and earnestly. The train was not in -sight, having descended into a sort of dry slough which ran across the -plain. - -“False alarm,” declared Simpson, turning to continue the trail. But -Cimarron Jack disagreed with him. - -“Tim, I saw Apache Jack up by Comanche Rock day before yesterday, and -he warned me of a band of Apaches who were out on a maraud, down in -this direction. What he says is gospel.” - -“Durned ef it ain’t! I giv’ in,” said Simpson. His confidence in Apache -Jack was unlimited. - -“The old boy was looking rather fazed,” continued Jack. “He told me he -had only just given them the slip, after a run of thirty miles.” - -“Hark!” sharply commanded Mr. Wheeler. “I’m sure I heard a gun behind.” - -“I thought I did, too,” said Sam. - -A puff of white smoke arose from the crest of a small knoll, half a -league behind; then a man was seen to spring on the summit and wave his -hat frantically. - -The eagle eye and electric brain of Cimarron Jack took in the situation -at once. He struck his steel spurs sharply into the blood-bay’s flanks. - -“Come on!” he shouted, galloping toward the gesticulating man. “There’s -something wrong with the train. Come on! follow the tiger-cat!” - -They followed, pell-mell, plying the spur. As if cognizant of the -importance of speed, the horses bent their heads and fairly flew; while -their riders kept their eyes upon the man on the knoll. - -Suddenly he disappeared and a new object came in sight. Afar off on the -plain, beyond the invisible train, came a man on a galloping animal. -He was followed by another and more, all shooting out from behind a -distant ridge. - -“’Patchees!” yelled Simpson. “They air a-makin’ fur the train!” - -The guide was right. The train was halted behind the knoll, and the -Apaches were galloping toward it. They had evidently been following the -trail, as they were coming from the south-east. - -“Hurry!” cried Sam. “We will have to fly to save the train.” And as he -spoke he bent over his “clay-bank’s” neck as if to accelerate his speed. - -The knoll was quite near now, being not more than three hundred yards -distant. The coming savages were at least a mile away. The whites had -the start. - -A minute more and they dashed up in a body to the knoll. - -It was as they had expected; the train was grouped behind it, every one -being in hapless confusion with the exception of Burt, who was loudly -swearing at the utter disregard of his orders by the two Robidoux. - -Duncan was scuttling about among his tin dishes and kettles in his -wagon, trying to find his favorite weapon--a dull butcher-knife, with a -blade like a hand-saw. The utmost confusion prevailed. - -However, the arrival of the main body in some degree quieted the -teamsters and restored order. - -Suddenly the coming Apaches, now about a half-mile distant, drew up -their mustangs, and grouping, stared keenly at the train. They had -seen the horsemen suddenly arrive to sustain the small band they were -swooping down upon. - -Cimarron Jack was in his element. Taking, with the characteristic -promptness of a veteran Indian-fighter, advantage of their hesitation, -he sprung from his horse. - -“Now, fly ’round!” he commanded. “Stir your stumps, you fellows!” -pointing to the Canadians. “You, Louis, drive your team ahead ten feet!” - -The man obeyed, quieted by the magnetic influence which Jack always -possessed when in danger. - -“Now, Duncan--blast your nervous, excitable hide! drive alongside -Louis!” - -But Duncan paid no attention, searching, in an agony of haste, for his -lost knife. - -Burt promptly performed his task. The other Canadian, with more -coolness than the other drivers, seeing what was desired, waited for no -orders, but drove his wagon in a line with the others. - -“Now all hands get to work and unhitch the horses. Don’t be in a -hurry; buckles can’t be managed without coolness and deliberation.” - -The men went to work with dispatch, yet coolly, and in a few moments -the horses were detached from the wagons. - -“Now, you drivers take the horses aside, and the rest of us will draw -the wagons together.” - -The Canadians did as commanded, and the remainder drew the wagons -together; then the horses were tied firmly to the wheels on the side -next the knoll. Now they were in quite a snug and secure fort, with a -barricade of wagons in front, and a small hill behind. - -After this short but highly necessary work was finished, Cimarron Jack -looked closely at his rifle, desiring the others to do the same. He -carefully reloaded his “Colt’s six-shooters,” and laid them before him -on the wheel-hub. - -“Now, boys,” he said, “we are in tolerable circumstances for the -present, but there is no knowing how long we will remain so. Rot those -cussed devils out there! there’s an army of ’em!” - -“Fifteen,” corrected Simpson. - -“Fifteen to seven. Oh, that ain’t as bad as it might be.” - -“What a large fellow that is, yonder, to one side,” observed Carpenter, -indicating a powerful, stalwart savage, prominent among the rest. - -“Cheyenne,” remarked the guide, taking a huge bite from a “plug o’ -Navy,” which he always carried. - -“Comanche!” corrected Jack. “He’s no Apache--he isn’t built like one. -Tear my lion’s heart out, but I believe I know him,” he suddenly added. - -“Durned ef I don’t, too!” declared Simpson, watching him narrowly. - -“It’s Red-Knife, the renegade.” - -“K’rect!” - -“Who is he?” inquired Mr. Wheeler. - -“Red-Knife, the Comanche renegade--a notorious, murdering old rat!” -replied Jack. “He’s the worst Indian on the plains, and ‘give up’ is -something he does not know. Kicked out of his own tribe he joined the -Apaches, and since has gained a reputation for cruelty and cunning far -above any of the others.” - -“We are in danger, then.” - -“Danger! Well, I should remark. But look yonder--what in the name of -Cimarron Jack, the cock of the walk, does that painted devil mean?” - -All eyes were turned at once toward the savages. Before stationary, -they were now prancing and capering about, spreading like a bird’s -wing, then folding again, ever prancing and curveting. Only the chief, -Red-Knife, remained at rest. After seeing his brother Ishmaelites wheel -and curve about him for some time, he dismounted, cast his weapons on -the ground and slowly stalked toward the barricade. - -“He’s a fool!” whispered Burt to Sam, as he drew within rifle-range. -“Fust thing he’ll know, he’ll find hisself dead, if ever Simpson or -t’other draws bead on him.” - -“He’s going to palaver,” remarked Jack. - -The savage drew quite close, until he halted within long pistol-range. -Then, spreading his arms and throwing back his head, he cried out: - -“Are the pale-faces women, that they seek to hide? Are they coyotes, -that they burrow when danger comes? Are they fools, that they know not -that Red-Knife is the chief of the plains--that he is not to be foiled?” - -He spoke in the Spanish tongue with a good tone and accent. Long -intercourse with the Mexicans had improved his tongue. - -He received no answer; he went on. - -“Are the pale-faces dumb, that they do not reply? Ugh! they are dogs.” - -“He thinks we are greasers--he does, by Cimarron Jack, the god of -war! Well, let him discover his mistake--he will do so before long,” -remarked Jack. - -“Le’s pepper him, Jack,” said the guide. - -“No; let him talk. If he thinks we are Mexicans he will charge--then we -will give him a little lead to digest.” - -“Will the pale faces surrender?” cried the chief. “Will they yield?” - -“Oh, yer jist go back ter yer daubed fools, and quit yer gab!” cried -the guide. - -The savage understood English slightly, and after some reflection, -deciphered the command. He started back a pace or so, somewhat taken -aback by finding he was taunting Americans. Then he resumed, swaggering: - -“Come out from your hiding-place, women! Come like men into the plain -and talk to Red-Knife. He is a brave--he has taken many scalps; the -whites are dogs and are cowards.” - -“I’ll put a stopper to his mouth!” declared Jack, bending and creeping -through the wagons. Then, standing in full view before the chief, he -cried, brandishing his rifle: - -“Get back to your howling crew, you Comanche renegade dog! Get back, or -I’ll send you in a hurry.” - -He spoke in the chief’s own tongue, and he recognized Jack. Knowing -his deadly precision with the rifle, well acquainted with his reckless -daring and warlike proclivities, he prepared to retreat to his -companions. But he could not resist the temptation of another taunt. - -“Squaw from the bitter river” (Cimarron Fork), “dog from a dog’s -country, coyote with a forked tongue--Red-Knife will dance with his -warriors and his braves around your fire-stake. The squaws shall spit -upon him, the pappooses will pierce his flesh with darts, and the -coyotes will tear his flesh.” - -He turned and fled, dodging and darting from side to side to avoid -Jack’s bullet, which he knew would speed after him. It did. - -Enraged, Cimarron Jack leveled his rifle and glanced over the sights. -The gun belched its smoke and fire, the chief dodged at the very -moment, and the bullet razed the black feather which nodded on his -painted head, and sped harmlessly on. - -The guide, Sam, and Burt also fired, but their bullets were wild--the -chief’s erratic and rapid motion rendered it almost impossible to -strike him. Running like a deer, he speedily regained his mustang and -his band, and mounting, spoke several hasty words to his clustered -braves, gesticulating wildly. - -The next moment they separated--one band of seven starting away toward -the north, while the other, with the chief, rode west a few yards, and -drawing as near as they dared, halted, facing the whites. - -“Now it has come right down to business, and we’ll have to look sharp,” -growled Jack. - -“Why so--what is wrong?” simply inquired Louis Robidoux. - -Jack glanced scornfully over him from head to foot. - -“Have you any eyes in your head?” he asked, with curling lip. “If you -have, just use ’em. Can’t you see they are going to make a surround?” - -Under his yellow hair, the Canadian’s face flushed, and he scowled at -Jack. - -“Use me more respectfully, or you may rue it,” he growled. - -“Dry up! You had better be a trifle more respectful yourself, or _you_ -will rue it. I am Cimarron Jack, the fellow who teaches grizzlies how -to wrestle, collar-and-elbow; I am the fellow who can hold a kicking -mule by the off-hind-foot with my thumb and little finger. I tell -_you_, the man in the moon doesn’t dare to make faces at me of a still -night. He knows I can shoot mighty straight, _he_ does.” - -“Quit yer braggin’ and mind yer eye,” admonished the guide, surlily. -“It’s no time ter brag, now.” - -“Yes, Cimarron Jack; pray do not breed discord at this critical -moment,” said Mr. Wheeler. “See, the hill now hides the savages from -our view--the band that rode away.” - -“Who’s breeding discord, I’d like to know? I don’t let any mule-whacker -say boo, to me, I tell _you_. However, young bantam,” turning to the -driver, “you and I see more of each other, mind that. For the present, -there is too much to look after to fool with you.” - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -GIVE AND TAKE. - - -Cimarron Jack, with these words, turned his back to the sulky Canadian, -and carefully reconnoitered the position of the Indians. The chief’s -band still remained drawn up in line, facing them like soldiers on a -dress-parade; the other was not in sight. - -“This won’t do,” remarked Jack. “We must keep an eye on those devils -who rode round back of us. First thing we know the whole gang will come -whooping on us. That ’ll never do--we must keep them off.” - -“But how are we going to do that?” inquired the Canadian. - -Jack became nettled. - -“Why, peep over the top of the hill, to be sure.” - -“But they will shoot us--Red-Knife’s band.” - -“Oh, they will try? I know I’m the crack shot of these plains, and _I_ -can’t hit a man three quarters of a mile off with a carbine that won’t -kill at three hundred yards. They darsn’t come within half a mile to -shoot, so we are safe from that quarter. There’s no time to be lost; -those red fools may be crawling up the other side of the hill for all -we know.” - -So saying, he coolly left the wagons, and deliberately walked up the -hillside. He was greeted with a volley from Red-Knife’s band, but the -bullets fell far short; the short Mexican carbines were useless at long -range. - -He slackened his pace as he drew near the summit, and dropping on -all-fours, crept up to the top, and peered quickly but cautiously over. -Then, with a short oath, he rose to his feet, and with a surprised look -gazed over the plain. - -“What is it, Jack?” demanded the guide. - -“Tear my ten-ton heart out if there’s an Apache in sight on this side.” - -“That so?” - -“It’s a fact. Come up here and see, if you don’t believe it.” - -The guide grasped his rifle and started toward the summit. The rest -followed. - -“Stay back, every one!” commanded Jack. “Two’s enough up here. You stay -back and keep the renegade at a distance.” - -They obeyed, and Simpson mounted the hill and stood beside Jack. - -“Tho’t yer said yer kedn’t see nuthin’?” remarked the former. - -“So I did, and you can’t either.” - -“Kin, too.” - -“Where?” - -“Yonder. See thet black speck movin’ ’long toward the east, a hundred -yards ter the right?” - -“Yes.” - -“That’s an Apashe’s top-knot, an’ he’s skulkin’ along an arroyo.” - -“Simpson, you always did have sharp eyes.” - -The guide received the compliment quietly, and resumed: - -“Arroyo bends ter the right jest thar, an’ every one o’ them red devils -is a-crawlin’ round ter sneak in ter us. Call the men hyar an’ giv’ ’em -a volley when they come in sight. We kin pick off the lot.” - -The men were called just in time. Just as the savages rounded the -bend and arrived in full view each man chose a savage and all fired -simultaneously. They were all good shots, and the effect was marked. - -Five of the seven Apaches threw up their arms and with loud cries -reeled and fell dead. The other two went back into the arroyo like -rabbits. - -“Well done!” cried Jack. “Hallo! look out--there comes Red-Knife. Pull -your revolvers and don’t shoot too quick. Get under cover lively now.” - -They rushed down the hill again, and crept behind the wagons. Red-Knife -had seen the fatal volley and defeat of his men and was frenzied with -rage. At the head of the whooping, screeching pack he rode, intent -upon a sudden charge while they were exposed. - -“Load your guns, men!” cried Jack. “Don’t be in a hurry--there’s plenty -of time. Hurrah! we are the cocks of the walk, the men that can’t be -beat.” - -The two parties were equally matched now, the savages only numbering -one more than the whites. But this did not deter Red-Knife from making -a charge. He had lived long with the whites and had partially avoided -his savage style of warfare for that of the white men. - -On the yelling pack dashed, screaming hideously and rending the air -with their shrill whoops. The men behind the wagons lay quiet, and -having all reloaded, sighted across their long rifles, coolly. Now that -they were staring dread danger in the face, the cook, Kit Duncan, was -cool and determined, having thrown aside the nervous apprehension with -which he had been afflicted at the approach of the savages. He had -killed his man, too, in the arroyo, and Jack regained confidence in him. - -Suddenly the approaching pack divided, part going to the right, and -part to the left, swerving by, beyond sure rifle aim. Never apparently -noticing their enemies, they rode on at a keen run until they had half -completed the circuit of the camp. - -“By thunder!” shouted Simpson. “Climb inter the wagons, boys--they air -goin’ ter fire criss-cross.” - -“A cross-fire!” ejaculated Jack. “Pile into the wagons, boys--lively -now.” - -He was already half-way into the nearest wagon. The men stopped not to -reflect--they knew that under a cross-fire they would soon be cut to -pieces, and helter-skelter they scrambled, each into the nearest wagon. - -As it happened, the guide and Sam were in the same wagon with Cimarron -Jack. In the next, and center one, were the remainder, huddled in the -bottom, to escape the bullets which would easily pierce the canvas -cap-tents. - -“Blast it! the horses will git shot--every blamed one of ’em,” declared -Simpson, in disgust. “They’ve got a fair, square aim at ’em--rot their -red hides. Cuss an Injun, anyhow. Thar’s no knowin’ what they’ll do, -nor when they’ll do it.” - -A rejoinder was made in the shape of a bullet which “sung” through the -wagon-cover just above his head; he dodged, and growled, “Lucky we -ain’t outside now.” - -“It is, indeed,” rejoined Sam; “very fortunate. We should have thought -of this contingency.” - -It was a singular oversight. In the manner in which the wagons were -placed, a sort of lane was formed by them and the supporting knoll. -The savages, at opposite sides, could bring to bear a heavy cross fire -through the lane; they were doing it now, hence the whites’ alarm. - -For a few moments a perfect hailstorm of bullets rattled against the -wagons, but no one was struck; then they ceased to bury themselves in -the woodwork. - -“They’ve emptied their barrels,” Jack said, with a contemptuous smile. -“The more fools they--now just stick your heads out, boys, and pepper -’em while they can’t return it!” he added, in a loud voice. - -“Le’s both go fur Red-Knife,” whispered the guide. - -“Ay: we can’t both miss him.” - -Hastily throwing up the wagon-cover, they took a quick aim and fired. -However, the wily savage saw the movement, and slipping behind his -mustang, eluded the bullets, which, close together, whistled through -the air where his body had been but a moment before. A shrill yell of -derision came from his lips as he peered over the steed’s back at the -foiled scouts. Jack swore roundly. - -Sam had also fired at a tall savage, but had been foiled in the same -manner. The ones in the other wagon, however, had succeeded in bringing -one dusky devil to the dust. Now they were exactly equal. - -They durst not peep from the wagons lest they might prove a good mark -for an Apache rifle. However, Simpson soon bethought himself of a -simple plan by which they might easily reduce their enemies’ number. -Drawing his knife he cut a slit in the canvas wagon-cover, then two -more for his companions; then called out to the occupants of the other -wagon to do the same. Now they could protrude their rifles, and with -a good aim and a simultaneous volley might lessen their enemies by -one-half. - -The plan would have been successful had not the chief suddenly -suspected something. Making a signal, he began to move away. However, -he was a little too dilatory. Just as he was getting into long -rifle-range, the guide and his companions discharged their pieces, the -others doing the same at the other band. - -One bullet whistled by the renegade’s head and lodged in that of a -short, malicious warrior who rolled from his horse, dead. Anther struck -Red-Knife in the leg, they could tell, as he twitched it suddenly, then -clapped his hand upon it. A yell from the other band caused them to -look toward it. A gaunt, tall savage started up in his saddle, gazed -wildly round for a moment, then his mustang galloped away, riderless; -two savages the less. - -It was now high noon, and the sun’s rays poured down like molten -lead on the white covers of the wagons. Outside, the horses, who -were unharmed, (the Indians having thought to secure them alive) -protruded their tongues and nickered low and pleadingly for a taste of -the water-butt. The men, too, mauger the warm and tepid water, were -suffering with the intense heat. The very air seemed as if a hurricane -from a baker’s oven was brewing. The wood-work was blistered and -parched; and still the sun shone redly, still the men sweltered and -watched, still the savages, drawn up in line, watched the wagons under -the knoll. - -The day wore on. Vultures wheeled above, now drawn hither by the sounds -of strife; coyotes skulked and sniffed the air at a safe distance; and -still the sun shone down hotly upon the two hostile bands. - -Suddenly the savages rode back to their former position, and clustering -together, gesticulated energetically. The whites could not hear, but -knew they were engaged in a discussion. - -Only a few moments they talked and gestured, then they turned their -mustangs’ heads to the south-west. - -Dismounting from his mustang, Red-Knife stalked toward the whites for a -few rods; then he cried: - -“The Red-Knife is a brave--he seeks not to war with dogs and cowards. -The sounds of war come from the south; there will the Comanche go to -war with braves--he leaves pale-face dogs to their own cowardly deeds. -The Red-Knife has spoken.” - -Cimarron Jack sprung out of the wagon into the open plain. The chief -recognized him. - -“Dog from the bitter river!” he cried, with an insulting gesture; -“coward of a coyote, squaw, sneak, the Red-Knife laughs at you.” - -“I’m Cimarron Jack, the grizzly-tamer! I’m the man that killed -cock-robin! I’m the jumping wild-cat from Bitter Creek! I’m the man -that can run faster ’n a jack-rabbit, swear more than a camp-cook, -neigh more than an elephant, and kill thieving Indians like the -small-pox. I’m the Grand Mogul of Tartary, and I’m the cock of the -walk.” - -The chief turned, stalked back to his steed, mounted, and rode away -with his band toward the south; clustered together, riding swiftly. - -The men came out from the wagons, and, standing on the plain, watched -the Indians as they swiftly receded, wondering. - -It was no sham, no strategy; they were actually going; and, in the -course of an hour, were lost in the distance. - -“I say, Simpson, what does all this mean?” inquired Mr. Wheeler. - -“Dunno!” - -“Haven’t you any idea?” asked Sam. - -“No.” - -“I have--a pretty sure one,” replied Jack. - -“What is it?” - -“You know Apache Jack told me the other day, at Comanche Creek, that -thirty Apaches chased him thirty miles or more?” - -“Yes.” - -“Well, he said Red-Knife was the chief of the band. Now the skunk had -only fourteen here besides himself--fifteen in all. That shows there -has been a division for some reason or other. Now he’s bound south -to fetch the bulk of the band to help him. He will be back in twenty -hours, depend upon it--then look out.” - -“I think you are wrong,” said Burt Scranton. “If Red-Knife was goin’ -ter fetch the rest of his gang, he’d leave some one hyar ter keep an -eye on us.” - -“Jest whar _you’re_ wrong,” declared Simpson. “We leave a big trail -behind us--I tell _you_. It’ll be mighty easy fur him ter foller it. -He takes his hull gang ter make us b’lieve he’s gone fur good--the old -badger. But I b’lieve we kin outwit him yet.” - -“How?” was the general question. - -“Jest this ’ere way: ’bout ten miles north is a bigger hill nor this--a -hill kivered with loose rocks. Thar’s a devilish peart place ter make -a stand thar--and it’s only three miles from the sweetest water yer -ever tasted--Alkali Creek. It’s what them fellers that think they know -so much when they don’t know nuthin’--book-writers--call a subter-rain -again stream.” - -“Subterranean,” corrected Sam. “Alkali Creek does not, by its name, -give any great promise.” - -“Wal, thar’s good water thar; it ain’t very cold, but it’s sweet, an’ -that’s the main thing.” - -“I believe we would make a strike by going,” added Cimarron Jack. “I -know the hill--it is a strange place. Men have been seen to ride up -to it, and suddenly disappear, and all efforts to find them have been -useless. However, for a year there’s been nothing wrong about it, and -I, for one, move we go as quick as we can. The sun is only three or -four hours high, and time is scarce. Besides we may find the young Miss -there.” - -Mr. Wheeler groaned, and Carpenter looked gloomy, but they both agreed -with Jack. Of course, the rest were bound to follow them. - -The hasty resolve was soon put in execution. The horses were watered -from the butt, and attached to the wagons; the drivers mounted their -saddles, and the horsemen trotted away, past the ghastly red bodies, -past the coyotes, under the wheeling vultures, bound for the Hillock. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -GONE--GONE! - - -On that same afternoon, and about sunset or a little later, Pedro was -eating a frugal supper in the hollow hillock with Kissie. - -Both were downcast. She, on account of her friends, was uneasy and sad, -while he was still experiencing the fear of dealing with something -not of this world. The mysterious voice he knew so well of old, that -terrible form he had seen, still haunted him. And more; the sudden -disappearance of the apparition highly alarmed him and kept his nerves -strung to the highest tension, and he expected every moment to see it -stalk in upon him. - -But he kept his own counsel and did not further alarm and annoy his -companion by relating the incident. - -The supper was plain--the remnants of a venison dinner and some dried -meat which Pedro carried in his haversack. The torch threw a feeble, -flickering light over the gloomy apartment; an insect droned a funeral -dirge close by in some cranny; the horse close by stamped and chewed -his grain, and the sound of the mustang’s hoofs outside were dull and -heavy; night was drawing on. - -“Hist, senorita!” Pedro suddenly whispered, with uplifted hand. “Surely -I heard a voice.” - -They listened; all was quiet. - -They were about resuming their meal when the mustang outside snorted -and galloped away; something had alarmed her. - -“Something is at hand,” said Pedro. “Stay here, senorita, while I peep -out. Do not be alarmed--I will not leave you.” - -“Oh, I pray it is my father--pray God it is,” she replied, with a -lightened heart. - -“Perhaps it is--I hope so, senorita. But I must go--I am sure I hear -the voice again.” - -Though inwardly quaking, Pedro’s exterior was cool, impassible--his -features betrayed no fear. Though never doubting that if he looked out -he should again see the fearful apparition, he picked up his gun and -squeezing through the interior passage, stalked to the door and peeped -out. - -“Hello! thar’s her mustang,” he heard a strange voice say, and a moment -later several men rode round the hill. He was relieved at finding they -were flesh and blood, and not his ghastly enemy, and using his eyes -sharply, scanned them. - -They were three in number. One, a middle-aged man with a careworn -expression and haggard face was drearily peering round about him. Close -beside him, on a “clay-bank” horse, sat a handsome young man, speaking -to him in a low tone, evidently endeavoring to cheer him. The third was -a burly, stout man, on a powerful “States horse.” The reader is well -aware who they are--the party of searchers. - -But Pedro did not know them, and though strongly suspecting their -identity, was not the man to trust to appearances or jump at -conclusions. He resolved to wait and watch. - -“Here comes the guide and Cimarron Jack,” remarked Carpenter, pointing -over the plain. “And the wagons are at hand, too; we will soon be -strongly encamped.” - -Mr. Wheeler made no rejoinder save a sigh. - -By the gaze of his two comrades, Pedro judged the guide and Cimarron -Jack were at hand. The latter he had often heard of, but had never -seen. His supposition proved correct; a rattle of wheels was heard, -three white-capped wagons rounded the hill and drew up by the three -horsemen, and simultaneously two men came round the opposite side, -mounted, the one on a mustang and the other on a powerful deep-bay. - -Though the twilight had almost given place to night, yet Pedro -recognized the former of the two horsemen--the guide. His heart leaped -at the sight, for joy. Many were the dangers he had faced with the -weatherbeaten guide, many were the hardships they together had endured, -closely-knit were the bonds of mutual like and esteem; and Pedro with -joy gazed upon his companion of yore. - -His first impulse was to rush out and grasp his old “pardner” by the -hand; but a second thought changed his mind. - -“They might become alarmed and shoot me,” he reflected. “I will make -myself known. - -“But stay,” he resumed. “I might as well see to my treasure--I don’t -know all of those men; there might be a knave among them.” - -The precious bag still lay covered with the saddle, the water-bucket -and the blankets. - -He had dug the gold from a hole close by. It was not refilled, and -taking the bag he placed it in its former hiding-place and then threw -the concealing articles over it; for the present they were safe. - -Then going to the closed trap-door he placed his lips to a chink, and -whispered: “Tim Simpson.” - -Intending to give Kissie a glad surprise, he lowered his voice so she -could not hear him from the other chamber. - -“What’s wanted?” growled the guide, supposing one of his party was the -speaker. He received no rejoinder. Pedro whispered again. - -“Simpson--old friend.” - -“Well, spit it eout!” sharply spoke the guide. “Don’t whisper, -‘Simpson,’ all day. - -“Who spoke?” asked Burt. - -“Dunno.” - -“I heard a whisper,” said Jack. - -“So did I; and I,” added several. - -“Didn’t any o’ yer fellers speak ter me?” - -“No--no.” - -“Durned cur’ous. I heerd a whisper, sartin.” - -“So did all of us,” said Sam. - -Pedro spoke a trifle louder. - -“Simpson, here I am--Pedro Felipe,” and he boldly emerged from the hill. - -Astounded, the party started back, then leveled their guns, believing -him immortal, his appearance was so sudden and unexpected. Pedro, -seeing his danger, dropped prone to the earth. He was not too soon, -for, staggered and alarmed, several fired at him; but his presence of -mind saved his life. - -Rushing rapidly to Simpson, he sprung behind his mustang to avoid being -shot, as several guns were aimed at him. - -“Simpson--have you forgotten me? I am your old friend, Pedro.” - -The guide recognized him and sprung from his mustang. He was too old a -hunter and guide to remain surprised for any length of time. - -“Gee-whiz!” he cried, scrambling about in a mad wrestle with the -Mexican. “Durn yer old greaser soul! gee-mini, cry-mini! Hooray! -dog-gon me ef it ain’t Pedro!” - -The rifles were lowered and the horsemen stared aghast. Surprised, -astounded, they sat wondering, neither stirring or speaking. Meanwhile -the American and Mexican scrambled about in their wild and friendly -wrestle, overwhelming each other with their joyful buffets, and light -hugs. To a stranger it would have seemed a struggle of death as the -guide cursed roundly and bestowed epithets without number upon his -long-absent friend, many too coarse, even foul, to be presented here. - -At last, from sheer inability to further continue, they relaxed their -clutches, and drawing back a pace, stood looking the other over from -head to foot--they were rare friends. - -“Cimarron Jack,” said the guide, “here’s the sharpest, ’cutest, -patientest man in the kentry. Durn yer braggin’ eyes, git off of yer -hoss and greet him.” - -“Pedro Felipe!” cried Jack, dismounting, “you are a greaser, but a -first-class fellow I’ve heard. Shake the vice of the cock of the walk -and the terror of the grizzlies. Put your hand there, you villain.” - -“Cimarron Jack, I, too, have heard of you frequently, as a boasting, -vaunting knave, with more tongue than strength or brains. I hope -you will die with your boots on,” replied Pedro, shaking his hand -cordially. That introduction would be considered formal and cold a few -miles north-west--in California, where every man greets a stranger -with an oath and an evident insult. However, these two men were polite -and gentlemanly, and either would have regarded as an insult any more -polite greeting. - -“Where did you come from, Pedro?” asked Jack. “Darn me, I was scared--I -was for a fact.” - -“Out of the hill yonder.” - -“Glory hallelujurrum! there _is_ a hole. What in the name of Cimarron -Jack the thorough-bred from Bitter Creek, were you doing in there?” - -Pedro pointed to the mustang, Dimple, grazing at a distance. “Do you -see that mustang?” he asked. - -Mr. Wheeler sprung from his horse, followed by Sam and Burt. Rushing to -Pedro he cried, seizing him by the shoulder: - -“For God’s sake, where is my daughter? Tell me, sir, quickly!” - -Pedro was a man of few words. In answer, he pointed quietly to the dark -aperture in the hillside. - -“Where? I do not see her. Sir, you joke with me.” - -“No he don’t, nuther,” surlily put in the guide. “He ain’t thet kind of -a man, let me tell yer.” - -“Perhaps he means there is a cave in the hill,” suggested Carpenter. - -“Just so, senor; she is there.” - -They stopped not to parley, or to demand an explanation of his sudden -appearance, albeit they were greatly surprised; but one and all -dismounting, rushed to the cave entrance. - -But Pedro, suddenly alarmed for his treasure’s safety, sprung before -the hole. Drawing his beautiful dagger, he cried, hoarsely: - -“Stand back! back! you shall not enter.” - -“But we will!” shouted Carpenter, rushing at him menacingly. The guide -put out his foot and dexterously tripped him. - -“And, by Judas, yer won’t go in ef he sez not ter!” he growled, placing -himself beside Pedro, and cocking his rifle. “Pedro’s my friend, and -I’ll stan’ by him ef I hev ter desert the gang ter do it. Jest count me -in, Pedro.” - -“Let me go in--stand away!” cried Mr. Wheeler, wildly. “I _must_ go in.” - -The guide put him back with his hands. “Mr. Wheeler, fur the present -yer ’r my boss, and a durned good one yer ’ve be’n, too; but, Pedro an’ -me swore ter allus stick to one another, and I’ll stick ter him, and -fight the party I’m a member of--that’s Simpson, the guide.” - -“Oh, thunder, Simpson! what’s the use of keeping a man in suspense? I’m -disgusted with you, for a fact.” - -“Cimarron Jack, you an’ me hev run tergether considerable, but I’ll -stick ter Pedro, yer may jest bet yer bottom dollar on it! He sez her -shain’t go in, and I’ll back every durned thing he says. Ef yer don’t -like it yer can lump it!” - -Cimarron Jack grew red in the face, and his eyes sparkled. Pedro, -knowing a quarrel between these two men would result in the death of -one or both of them, hastily said: - -“Don’t quarrel--keep cool! I am willing every one should go in--I am -even anxious; but I must go in first. That is the reason I kept you -back.” - -“Wal, why ’n thunder don’t ye _go_ in, then!” demanded Burt. “Thar’s no -use in talkin’ all day, is thar? the old gentleman wants ter see his -darter--kain’t yer let him in?” - -Pedro sheathed his dagger, and saying: - -“Certainly--come in,” sprung over the small pit in which his treasure -was hidden. Then, knowing such a procedure would attract attention, he -stepped aside. The men filed quickly in, leaving their horses outside -unwatched, and stood blinking in the double twilight inside. - -“Christina--Kissie!” cried Mr. Wheeler. “My child, where are you?” - -There was silence for a moment. Pedro expected to see Kissie glide -gladly from the inner chamber into her father’s arms; but she did not -appear. - -“Strange,” he thought. “Is it possible she is sleeping?” - -“Well--where is she?” impatiently demanded Carpenter. - -“She is in the inner apartment; I was thinking she would come at the -sound of her father’s voice.” - -“Where is the inner apartment? lead us there!” clamored the men. Pedro, -leaving his treasure, reluctantly stalked toward the narrow passage. -They followed eagerly, pressing close upon him. He slipped through and -found the torch was extinguished. - -“Ha!” he ejaculated. - -“What’s up?” whispered Simpson, in his ear. “Curse this black -hole--it’s dark as a pocket!” - -“Where is she? now you have brought us here, where is she? Strike a -light! a light! Kissie--Kissie!” cried Mr. Wheeler. They listened. No -answering voice sounded, no sound was heard; deathlike stillness, and -damp, thick air brooded round. - -“Sirs, there is something very strange in this,” hollowly whispered -Pedro. “I left her here not fifteen minutes since. The torch is where I -left it--my hand is upon it; I will strike a light.” - -The torch flamed redly out as Pedro, waving it aloft, peered round the -chamber. - -He could not see her. With the men strangely affected by some unknown -influence, with their weapons drawn, he walked slowly about the narrow -chamber, making the entire circuit without success. - -“Senors,” and his voice, they could perceive, was hollow and -quivering--“there have been ugly and strange happenings here, to-day. -She is not here.” - -All was silence. - -“There is still the first chamber--she may be there; we may have missed -her; sirs, this way.” - -They followed. - -In the first chamber again. The torch flickers in the breeze as they -walk slowly about after it--a mysterious influence is upon all. - -“Sirs--senors--she is not here.” - -All is quiet and the torch flares redly. The horses outside are -silent--they never stamp, the night breeze is damp, and the torch -flickers and flares; all is quiet in the Land of Silence. - -A hollow voice is heard; it is Pedro’s; he speaks almost in a whisper. - -“Senors--sirs--let us go outside.” - -He stalks away. They follow in utter silence; even the guide and the -ranger are under a strange influence. They emerge into the open air. - -Pedro, the guide and Cimarron Jack stood on the summit of the hill and -peered round in the darkness. The twilight had given place to-night, -yet they could see some distance, the atmosphere was so clear. The -horses stood as if statues, motionless; the mustang was out on the -plain, but she was no longer browsing; on the contrary, she at -intervals tossed her head and stamped--she was uneasy. - -The guide and the ranger went slowly down the hill, with subdued faces, -into the throng below. Pedro remained above with his torch. - -The mustang now trotted toward him, snorting and tossing her mane; he -watched her, flaring the torch for a better view. - -Suddenly she screamed shrilly and galloped rapidly away. At the same -instant Pedro saw a form approaching. He waved the torch. - -The form drew near, and he perceived it was that of a colossal -horseman. He slightly stooped and held his torch aloft. He drew nearer, -and strangely his horse’s feet gave out no sound. The men below were on -the opposite side of the hill. - -Suddenly the horseman loomed up as if by magic, and Pedro, with a wild -cry, started to his feet. The horseman wheeled and was riding away at -a gallop into the darkness--in thirty seconds he was invisible. Pedro -for a moment stood stupefied, and no wonder, for in that colossal form, -on the powerful black horse, under the conical hat with a black plume, -rode _the Trailer_. - -For a moment only he stood semi-paralyzed, then, with a wild cry, and -waving his torch, he sprung down the hill. Into the aperture he went, -and with trembling, eager hands tore away the coverings of his treasure. - -Off came the saddle, then the water-bucket, aside went the blankets, -and his arm plunged into the hole. - -Standing in the entrance, they saw him rise, reel, stagger, and fall -directly under his horse’s hoofs with a wild cry, and a brief, hoarsely -yelled sentence. Then Pedro fainted, with the echo of his cry ringing -and dying through the gloomy cavern: - -“Gone--gone--all gone!” - -They rushed in and lifted him up, the guide first. Taking him tenderly -in his arms, he held the torch to his face; then he laid him gently -down; then he shook his head slowly; then, with every muscle, feature -and lineament of his face showing his earnestness, with wild eyes, with -voice trembling and hollow in spite of himself, he said: - -“Gentlemen, thar’s suthin’ wrong ’bout this cursed, ugly black hill; -the strongest, coolest, bravest man in the world has fainted clean -away--dead away!” - -“And the girl--where is she?--she is gone,” muttered Cimarron Jack. - -“She is gone--gone!” - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -WORSE YET. - - -The guide, lifting the torch, looked round on a small band of -vaguely-frightened, nervous men. Why should they be frightened--why -nervous? Nearly all were accustomed to hob-nob with Nature in her -strangest and most incomprehensible moods--were accustomed to sudden -surprises and alarms, and all were endowed with at least ordinary -courage and “nerve.” - -The secret of this alarm was this--they all had heard that a once -feared and malignant robber, who had been dead a year, was roaming -nocturnally about the Land of Silence. Knowing him to be dead, they -were satisfied it was his ghost. All men have at least a small amount -of superstition innate--these were no exception. The guide had -recounted his strange meeting with the robber, and had been implicitly -believed, as his manner when relating it was not that of one who would -joke or falsely speak. Having never seen him they were affected by the -guide’s mistrust and vague fear, and by the sudden, strange, and real -disappearance of Kissie. They never doubted she had been an occupant of -the cave--was not her mustang just without? Then if she had not, Pedro -never would have voluntarily shown himself if he had wished to keep her -concealed. It was only too plain she had been there and had disappeared. - -They would have been more alarmed had they seen what Pedro had -seen--had they known what he knew; it was better they did not--far -better. - -Darkness reigned over the Land of Silence; the hill with its adjacent -horses and wagons--with its inner, half-scared occupants, lay still -as the cool breeze swept over it; only the mustang on the prairie -quietly browsing made a faint noise as she cropped the short and wiry -bunch-grass here and there--all was quiet in the vast desert, as the -night waxed on toward midnight. - -Nine o’clock. Now Pedro was sitting up, supported by the faithful -guide, and plied and harassed with questions he chose not to answer. He -told of Kissie’s appearance at the cave, of his conversation with her, -of the way in which she had occupied herself during the time she had -been with him, of the last he saw of her, where she was and what she -was doing; but why he came, when he arrived, what he tarried for, and -what he had seen, he refused to tell. He was firm and decided, though -his nerves were shaken considerably. - -Mr. Wheeler was overwhelmed and in a semi-stupor, and Carpenter was -alarmed for his health. After being so near his loved daughter, after -almost touching her and being within ear-shot, the shock of the sudden -disappearance had unmanned him, and he had sunk into a state of -imbecility. - -Carpenter, loving Kissie and grieving for her, was more in a state -to appreciate his sufferings than any one else, and did his best -to comfort him, being assisted in a rude manner by the faithful -Burt Scranton. But if he heard their words of comfort he did not -reply--sitting motionless he grieved alone. The night wore on. - -Ten o’clock. The group was gloomy and quiet, each one sitting or -lying on the ground, some smoking, others chewing, and all reserved -and moody. No watch outside had been set, as they were all strangely -stupefied by the recent strange events. The horses attached to the -wagons were quiet, the deserted saddle-horses were lying down, and the -mustang out on the plain began to show very distinctly--the moon was -rising. - -Between eleven and twelve o’clock there was a slight movement outside -among the horses, and a succession of stampings ensued; but it was soon -quieted, involuntarily, and was still again. - -Cimarron Jack, growing weary of the dead calm in the cell-like chamber, -rose to his feet and started toward the door. As he did so, a clamor -arose outside. A mare screamed viciously, stamping; a shrill “nicker” -came from a horse, and there was at the same moment a sound of rushing -and galloping hoofs. - -He sprung to the trap and peered out, then yelled shortly. - -Swarming round among the stationary train were over a score of running, -twisting, gliding Indians, overrunning the wagon, busily engaged in -unhitching the draft-horses, while more were galloping over the plain -striving to lariat the saddle horses, which had taken fright and -galloped away. They were busy as bees, and were swarming round like -them. Thirty running, robbing Indians make a larger show than fifty -whites, they are so much more agile and quick. - -Selecting a burly knave close by, who was trying to burst a stout -tobacco caddy, he took a long, deliberate aim and fired, then drawing -his Colt’s six-shooter, commenced firing rapidly, yelling like a demon. - -The large Indian fell dead on his breast, with a gurgling groan; and -the precise and correctly aimed revolver wounded two more, who dropped, -then rose and staggered away. - -Like magic, the work of plunder ceased. Individually dropping their -occupations, the savages sharply looked round for the cause of the -sudden and fatal volley, but as Jack had slunk back into the cave they -saw nothing. Then they became wildly alarmed, all their hereditary -superstitions crowding one upon another, and began to retreat. - -Cimarron Jack strove to organize his men, in order to make a sudden -onslaught, which would be more efficacious than a volley from the -hill, as the savages would be frightened out of their wits at seeing -them rise from the ground. But surprised, the “green” ones clustered -together like sheep, paying no attention to his oaths and orders, and -before he could begin to reassure them, the savages had mounted their -mustangs, and with the stolen draft-horses, went away like the wind, -a large and scared band of thirty, headed by the malevolent chief, -Red-Knife. - -“Give ’em a volley before they get away!” he cried, leveling his -reloaded rifle and firing. The guide, Sam and Burt followed his -example, but only one shot took effect--a retreating savage rolled from -his mustang, which sprung away riderless. The others were too surprised -to fire. - -Jack started out into the plain. - -“Jerusalem! look at ’em skedaddling off with every cussed draft horse. -Whew! mount as quick as you can, boys, and after ’em. Lively, now!” - -The moonlight revealed an exciting scene. Away toward the south-east, -riding like the wind, were seven and twenty Apaches, fleeing from -some unknown terror, with a dozen draft-horses led after them. Two -reeled in their saddles, one growing faint and scarcely able to cling -to his mustang; the other, though weak from loss of blood, still -managed to preserve his balance, though clumsily; they were the -victims of Cimarron Jack’s proficiency with fire-arms. One mustang -was riderless--the one from which the last savage had been shot; and -he galloped along with his mounted companions, his side streaked with -blood. - -Behind were several men out on the plain by the hillock, coaxing their -runaway steeds to them. It was a tedious, long task, as they had been -frightened in good earnest. - -Finally, Simpson succeeded in lariating his mustang, and then mounting, -soon collected the rest. Then the majority of the horsemen rode away in -pursuit, leaving the rest to search in the cave for the lost girl. - -The pursuers were Jack, Simpson, Carpenter, Burt and Louis Robidoux; -the remainder were Mr. Wheeler, Duncan, Napoleon Robidoux and the half -stupefied and almost useless Pedro. - -The latter party watched the others till they were lost in the far -distance. Then they turned toward the cave. - -“We are in for it,” remarked Robidoux, in a low tone, to Duncan. “What -if more of these mean Indians should come? We’d be the only ones fit to -fight ’em. Look at the master and the Mexican--they are both entirely -useless. One is half-dead about some strange affair, while the other is -almost in a trance with grief.” - -Duncan broke out vehemently: - -“They went away and never told me whether they’d be back to breakfast. -Now, blast the luck! if I cook up a lot of grub for the whole party, -and they ain’t here to eat it, the things’ll all spile, and then I’ll -catch thunder for being extravagant and wasteful. And if I don’t cook -for the lot, they’ll be sure to come back, and then there’ll be a fuss -’cause breakfast ain’t ready.” - -“Oh, never mind the breakfast; there are other things more important -than that, just now.” - -The cook stared at him aghast. - -“Other things more im-port-ant to look after! Oh, every hair of my -head! Oh, my boot-heels! Oh, if I didn’t get breakfast to-morrow, what -a swearing, red hot mess there’d be--every man a-cussing me. You never -was a camp cook--you don’t know what it is.” - -“It’s the softest job in the train.” - -“Say that again and I’ll knock you down! Great Cæsar! if I wanted to -have the sweetest revenge on an enemy, I’d condemn him to cook all his -life for a camp. He’d go crazy--every hair in his head would turn gray -in a few months. Heavens! what torments! Talk about your referees--talk -about your President of the United States--your umpires--your settlers -of disputes--there’s not so thankless a job in the world as that of a -camp cook. It is always, cook, do this--cook, do that; cook, when’s -dinner going to be ready? There ain’t enough biscuits, cook--why didn’t -ye make more? You never make the coffee strong enough, cook--why don’t -ye make it stronger? Cook, go fetch some drinking water! just as if I -war a slave. No wonder I’m cross; who ever saw a camp cook that wasn’t? -Nobody. - -“And then if a meal ain’t ready to a second, how I’m sworn at and -cursed. Cook, what makes you always behind? you are never on time. -Then when it is ready, then comes the music--a regular dirge to me. -One grumbling rascal says the meat ain’t cooked; another swears ’cause -thar’s gnats in the coffee--just as if I could go round catching bugs -like a boy with a butterfly net. And if a feller is in a civilized -country and has butter, then it melts until you have to soak your bread -in it to get any one. They cuss me for that too, and say I’m lazy and -stingy because I won’t tote an ice-chest round. These fellers are the -worst I ever did see. Bimeby they’ll be wanting ice cream, jelly, -chocolate, oranges, mattresses to sleep on, and a waiter for every -one. They’ll be wanting linen shirts, kid gloves, and a boot black -bimeby--I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they should beg for ottomans, -easy-chairs and musketo-bars--not a bit. Oh, curse the day I was fool -enough to join as camp cook! Oh, every hair of my head!” - -The Canadian, seeing he was in a fever, no further aggravated him by -continuing the conversation, but glancing over the plain, said: - -“There are three horses yet--no, two, that are loose. Can you throw a -lariat, cook?” - -“No, I can’t--and what’s more, I ain’t a-going to. I’m up every morning -before daylight, cooking while you lazy fellows are snoring; then I -drive team and wash dishes at the same time--I ain’t cross-eyed, and -the result is I go slap into some hole, then get cussed. Then at noon -you fellers roll on your lazy backs and see me cook, cook; and each -one is always wanting me to cook a dish just the way some one else -don’t want it done. Then it’s wash dishes and drive team again all the -afternoon; a cross-eyed man could do it well enough, but _I_ can’t. -Then I’m washing dishes long after every one’s asleep at night, and am -expected to turn out every morning a little after midnight and go to -work, work again. No, sir; if you want the horses brought up, you can -do it yourself, for I can’t and won’t.” - -“All right, Duncan. You do have a hard time, that is a fact. Go in now, -and get some sleep and I’ll try my hand at catching the horses.” - -Duncan went inside and found Pedro and Mr. Wheeler both in a -semi-stupor, from different causes, while Robidoux took a lariat and -started away toward the black horse and the mustang, Dimple. - -They were some two hundred yards distant, and both grazing, though -differently. The moon shone brightly, and by its light he could see the -black horse was quietly feeding, while the mustang was restless and -kept moving away from him as if afraid of his superior size. - -Silence reigned over the level plain as the Canadian walked rapidly -toward them with his lariat in his hand. He looked carefully over the -plain--nothing was in sight; he was alone on the plain in the Land of -Silence. - -He halted, as a thought struck him, hesitated a moment, then went on. - -“What if I should see the ghost the guide was talking about?” he mused. -“I begin to believe he did see one after the strange things that have -happened to-night. That Pedro fellow they say is a brave man, but he’s -scared to-night. I wonder if he saw it? I’d hate to have him ride up -to me now.” - -Once more he looked around on the moonlit silent plain--once more he -moved on. - -The black horse ceased his browsing as he drew near, and looked at him -fixedly; something at that moment occurred to Robidoux. - -“Pedro’s horse is in the cave,” he whispered to himself; “and all the -others are gone except Dimple. It is strange--whose horse can it be?” - -He went on and drew near. The mustang had moved away quite a -distance, and stood snorting and tossing her mane; she was evidently -affrighted--what was the matter? - -She was gazing at something behind him--he turned. As he did so he -uttered a sharp cry. - -A form was coming toward him from the hillock--a colossal form walking -rapidly. A tall hat surmounted his head, and in the band was a waving -plume; a _serape_ was over his shoulders, almost concealing his body; -he was quite near, being in fact only a rod or so distant. - -The Canadian knew it was not Pedro, and no man as enormous was of the -party besides him except Cimarron Jack, and he was away. He trembled; -could it be the guide’s ghost? - -The man was almost upon him, and was advancing rapidly. Seized with -sudden terror, nameless but vivid, he clasped his hands and awaited his -approach. His old superstitions were fully aroused, and he felt it was -a thing to be dreaded. - -In five seconds he stood face to face with the whitest, ghastliest -face, the blackest, keenest eye, and the most terrifying form he had -ever seen. He knew now who it was, from the guide’s description. - -Horror! he was facing, on this moonlight night, on this bare, lonely -plain, _the ghost of the Trailer_! - -“You are late on the plain to-night.” - -They were almost the very words he had spoken to the guide. With a wild -cry, and moved by his great terror, he saw the figure stalk toward the -black horse, which walked to meet him. - -He stopped in the entrance and stared back, then again shrieking, he -sprung in and tightly closed the trap; he had seen the mustang, seized -with fear, scour away over the plain, and coming toward the hillock on -the stalking black horse was the terrible, strange form--_the Trailer’s -spirit_! - -Still shined the moon quietly down. There is dire trouble in the Land -of Silence to-night. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -A REFUGE IN TIME. - - -Away rode the Apaches galloping south-east, leading the captured horses -behind them. In the sudden surprise and retreat they had forgotten -to retain those articles which they had fixed their eyes on, only a -few diminutive and easily-carried articles being clung to. Their most -precious prize had been abandoned--the caddy of “black Navy”--far -more precious in their estimation than gold or ornaments. It had been -pounded, hammered, dashed against wagon hubs, but in vain; and so, -though reluctantly, they rode away minus two braves, with two more -fatally wounded, with a paltry prize of twelve aged, heavy horses, -whose best run was a mere rapid canter, and who were incumbered with -heavy, impeding harness. - -Not knowing the nature or number of their foes, they were riding -away toward a part of the plain some twenty miles distant, which was -traversed by numerous and deep _arroyos_ (small chasms or deep ravines) -which in their great number and devious windings afforded excellent -shelter. - -Looking back, though they could not see more than several miles in the -hazy moonlight, they were certain that they were pursued, but by whom -or how many they could not determine. - -They had been plundering the abandoned wagons of their recent -victorious foes--that they were aware of; but where they had been so -effectually concealed, or how many they numbered were enigmas the -shrewdest could not unravel. - -Moonlight still hung over the Land of Silence, and the round full orb -in the eastern zenith still shone clearly. Still rode the savages on. - -Behind, but gaining, came five white men, or about one-fifth of the -savages, riding faster and quite as directly toward the plain of -the _arroyos_. The savages, as they rode over the ground, chattered -noisily--these men, too, conversed, but gloomily. - -“We can not distinguish the Apaches--perhaps we are straying from the -trail,” remarked Louis Robidoux. - -“Ain’t nuther!” This from the guide, surlily. - -“How do you know?” asked Sam, spurring to the guide’s side. - -“Bekase we air goin’ ter the eye-dentical place whar they’re goin’.” - -“Where is that--to the ravines?” - -“Gulches. Dead Man’s Gulches.” - -“Why are they named so strangely?” - -“Because a man that gits in thar stands a mighty poor show to git out -again. You’ve seen them Chinese puzzles, haven’t you?--we boys used -to have them at school. The only difference between the two is, that -whar yer kin easy git ter the center of the Gulches, you kain’t in the -puzzle; but both air mighty hard ter git out of. I’ve seen a man that -said he traveled _four days_ trying ter git out, and didn’t move a mile -in the whole time. The creeks are parallel, criss-cross, angling--every -which way; and they are deep and wide. God pity the greenhorn that gits -inter them.” - -“I heard a Mexican tell some whopping yarns about some Dead Man’s -Gulches, but I didn’t believe him; but sence ye say so and back him, -why I’ll hev ter give in, I reckon,” remarked Burt Scranton. - -“Wait till yer git thar an’ then see fur yourself,” suggested -the guide. “Durn me ef I want any truck with ’em, you hear +ME+, -gran’mother?” - -“Then you are sure the red-skinned knaves will go to the Gulches?” -interrogatively spoke Sam. - -“Sartain. They’re skeered and don’t know who shot at ’em. Thar’s -mighty peert shelter in the Gulches, an’ that’s whar every Apache fur -miles ’round skedaddles ter when he’s hard pressed. I’ll bet my bottom -dollar we’ll be sure ter find ’em thar.” - -“You, too, Jack?” Cimarron Jack nodded. - -“Very well; how far distant are they?” - -“A matter of fifteen or twenty miles, p’r’aps. About two hours’ sharp -spurring.” - -“All right then. Spur up, boys, spur up! Here goes for the -Gulches--hurrah!” - -“Hurrah for Dead Man’s Gulches!” was the answer, as on they sped. - -“Three and a tiger for the catamount-chewers; for the -rattlesnake-charmers; for the scorpion-eaters; and for the cocks of the -walk!” yelled Cimarron Jack, suiting the action (the former one) to the -word. - -They were given lustily, and the trampled herbage under the ringing -hoofs slowly raised to find that the ruthless destroyers were passed on -and were rapidly receding from sight. - - * * * * * - -Two hours later. Now the moon was in the zenith, round, white and -gleaming, and the actors in the varying tragedy were passing over a -different landscape. The plain, though still level, taken as a whole, -was cut into many islands, capes, peninsulas--into all manner of -curious shapes by the deceitful ravines and small creeks, called Dead -Man’s Gulches. - -Winding in and out, slipping, crawling, and at short times and long -intervals, trotting, was a serpentine train of dusky forms, twisting -and climbing deeper and deeper into the wild and sandy maze. - -Ever and anon they looked back, and some grinned sardonically, while -others frowned and fingered their tomahawks nervously. They were -looking at a small party behind who were just entering the Gulches, a -mile away, and who were coming boldly and rapidly on in pursuit. - -Unlike the savages they were unincumbered with leading horses, and were -able to move much more rapidly. They were also in Indian file and were -headed by Simpson, the guide--now a guide in a useful and important -sense, for he was acquainted with many (not _all_, by any means) of -the mazes into which they were involving themselves. - -“Durn my hide!” he growled, as he mounted an eminence. - -“Gee-whiz! what a pile of ’em thar is. Gee-whittaker! ef they’d turn -and surround us in these durned gulches what a _battue_ thar’d be. A -serround--it’d be the last of every mother’s son of us.” - -The guide was losing his taciturnity--a sure sign he was in earnest, -and so he was. - -“We’d better look sharp,” resumed Jack. - -“Keep your eyes open all of you and see that no red rascal leaves the -main pack. The moon shines clear and we can easily tell if any one -drops into a hole.” - -They obeyed his instructions, and leaving the guide to find the way, -steadily watched the retreating band. Now they would be sharply -outlined against the sky, winding out of view like a tread mill; now -they would appear coursing over a level “reach;” and again they would -disappear altogether. - -“Cuss the place!” sharply exclaimed Burt, as his horse slipped down a -low bank. “It’s jest like the old Adirondacks, on a small scale. I’ll -bet them devils make two rods ter our one.” - -“No, they don’t,” said Jack. “They are held back by our horses--durn -’em. We’ll soon catch ’em.” - -“Then what will we do--they are five to our one, and all armed with -good rifles the Government gave them?” queried Sam. - -“Fight--we can do nothing else. The Government didn’t give ’em -rifles--it’s the Ingun agents. They make a handsome profit on the -rifles, trading ’em for furs and the like. The Inguns get guns and then -turn round and kill whites with them.” - -“But the Apaches have no agent.” - -“What difference does that make? The northern tribes do--good -breech-loading rifles are given them by the stand. There’s such a thing -as trade, and swop, and steal--as much among Inguns as whites. The -reservation Inguns don’t have much use for rifles, so they trade ’em -off to hostile tribes. You bet sometime I’m going to try for an Ingun -agency, then--hurrah!” - -“K’rect!” came from the guide. - -“Hullo!” cried Burt, sharply. “The pack ain’t quite so big as it was.” - -They ceased and looked ahead. Surely enough, the band had diminished -one-half at least. The remainder still kept on, though with slackened -speed. The guide stopped short. - -“It’s not any use ter go much further--fust thing we know we’ll be -inter a big ambuscade. Any thing but that, say I.” - -“We can keep on for three or four hundred yards yet, Tim. They’ve -stopped in some big gulch while the rest have gone on. They will lie -there to pepper us when we come on and they won’t stir. We might get in -a volley on them, too, by riding along.” - -The guide cogitated for a moment. The plan seemed feasible, and -accordingly he again bent his eyes to the ground, and the party glided -in and out among the gulches. - -“Now, fellows, and you ’specially, Robidoux, mind your eye. We ain’t on -a bare plain, now, but in a devilish mean place. Keep close to Simpson -and have your guns cocked and ready. Ride slow, Simpson!” - -“Ay, ay!” and as the guide slackened his pace they clustered about him. -Now the gulches grew narrower, deeper, and thicker. It became difficult -to climb some of the sandy, yielding, and precipitous banks; the -descents, too, became attended with danger. Sometimes they were forced -to follow a ravine some little distance in order to find an emerging -place; then again they were obliged to ride along a bank to find a safe -descending spot. This irksome and dangerous task was rendered doubly -dangerous by the fact that at some advanced point, they knew not where, -nearly a score of bloodthirsty and cunning Apaches lay waiting for -their scalps. - -The foremost band still retreated, but slowly in order to stimulate -them to greater haste, which would, of course, be attended with a -large degree of recklessness. They were within half a mile, having -lost ground, and were apparently beating the led horses to urge their -lagging steps. But the sharp eyes of Scranton had given them timely -warning, without which they would surely have run into a fatal trap. - -They were now on a “reach” and had space for a fast trot of a hundred -yards or more, when they would reach the brink of a yawning chasm, -black and gloomy in its dark and serpentine shadow. Here the guide -stopped, followed by the others. - -“It’s no use ter go further,” he said. “Do yer see that big gulch -ahead? Wal, yer may bet yer lives that in that black shadder more ’n a -dozen dirty ’Patchies air watchin’ us. We’ll stop fur a change, right -hyar.” - -“Here’s a splendid place for a stand,” said Jack, pointing to a deep -fissure adjacent. - -“Le’s climb for that, and if there’s any ’Patchies in the gully, -yender, ye’ll see how quick they’ll come skinning out, when they find -out we’ve found ’em out.” - -“And we’ll rout them out, right out,” said the Canadian, mimicking -Jack’s speech. The latter turned upon him and grasped him by the throat. - -“This ain’t the first time you’ve insulted me,” he cried; “but, by -Judas, it’ll be the last.” - -Huff! a stream of flame shot out from the shadow, a loud report -sounded, and a bullet whistled past Jack’s head. His timely and sudden -change of position had saved his life. - -Letting loose the malicious Canadian, he spurred his horse toward the -fissure. - -“Come on!” he cried, “we are attacked! Yonder’s the other pack coming -back to help; right down in this gully; now, lively!” - -Pell-mell, helter-skelter, they dashed recklessly into the friendly -fissure, while simultaneously a hideous, blood-curdling yell rung out -from the black, shadowy gulch, and a harmless volley sped over their -heads. They were discovered and perhaps entrapped--the fight had -arrived, and they were opposed to and harassed by, five times their -number of wily, cruel, unrelenting foes. - -In five minutes the “reach” was swarming with yelling, screeching and -bloodthirsty Apaches, forming to pounce upon the devoted band below. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -A MYSTERIOUS SHOT. - - -After the Canadian had trembled, shuddered and brooded awhile without -being alarmed by a second visitation, he began to look into the why and -the wherefore of it. To follow his vague and erratic mind-wanderings -would be a dull task, as he was too terrified and confused to shape his -thoughts into any discernible matter. - -An hour perhaps passed and it was now the early morning. In the cave -the torch cast its flickering light over a dull, gloomy scene. Pedro -and Mr. Wheeler lay motionless in a semi-stupor; Duncan muttered -disjointedly in his sleep, bewailing and cursing his hard lot; the -horse of the Mexican stood in his giant proportions quietly in a -corner; and only the Canadian was at all conscious of passing sounds -and events. These had not come--were yet to arrive; and arrive they did -in no very merry manner. - -All had been quiet, Duncan in his heavy sleep forgetting to snore, when -the mustang, Dimple, nickered loudly; at the same moment Pedro turned -uneasily and muttered: - -“The Trailer--my precious, yellow gold.” - -The Canadian started, and springing to his feet glanced round in the -darkness as though momentarily expecting a second visitation of the man -in the towering hat; but all was quiet, the torch flickered weirdly, -and he again sat near the entrance. - -“What does he mean?” he soliloquized. - -“The Trailer--that means that horrible ghost. And yellow gold--what -does that mean? He has seen the specter--_that_ I am satisfied of; it -accounts for his strange alarm and apathy; but the gold, the gold--what -gold does he mean?” - -Another shrill nicker from Dimple outside; in his abstraction he noted -it not but went on with his soliloquy. - -“I have hunted the moose on Moosehead Lake, and on the head-waters of -the Penobscot; I’ve lumbered on the Kennebec and Androscoggin; I’ve -fished in the Thousand Isles; I’ve hunted the bear in the Missouri -Ozarks; but of all the ghastly moons that ever shone, this one to-night -is the ghastliest. The very moon in the Land of Silence is different -from other moons--or the same moon at other places. There it is white; -here it is yellow, red, and sometimes even blood-red, like a ruby. What -a quiet, ghastly place--this vast yellow wilderness; how still the air -always is; how sultry and hazy the days and dreamy the nights; how-- -Halloa!” - -Again the mustang nickered, shriller and wilder than before. He was -about to resume, when a wild, unearthly yell broke upon the quiet night -air--a yell as if Pandemonium had broken loose. Starting back with -fear, he clasped his hands, then ran to the entrance and flung it open. - -He closed it as quickly, if not sooner, as a rumbling sound came from -behind the hillock, a sound of thundering hoofs, and the hideous yell -pealed again; then, as he peeped through a chink, he saw the cause. - -Riding like wild-fire, screaming and whooping, came a dozen Indians, -charging on the wagons from behind the hill. Clustering together with -tossing arms, they rode swoop down upon them. He started down, then ran -quickly to Pedro. - -“Pedro--Pedro Felipe--wake up--arise; we are charged by Apaches.” - -At the word Apaches Pedro rose suddenly, from sheer habit, as his -eye was vacant, and his air that of a somnambulist; his energy was -short-lived, and he sunk down again. - -“Pedro--for heaven’s sake get your gun; we are attacked.” - -“Have you seen it?” - -“Seen them? Yes; they are yelling outside--don’t you hear them? Come, -hurry!” - -“Have they got my gold?” - -Robidoux was sharp enough to take advantage of this question, and he -replied: - -“Yes, yes; all of it. Come, hurry!” - -Pedro needed no other incentive, but sprung from his couch and grasped -his rifle. Springing toward the door, he hoarsely said: - -“Senor, here we go--altogether; _Caramba!_” - -Before Robidoux could stop him he had flung back the trap-door and was -standing outside, aiming at a slender Apache just entering a wagon. -The broad, dusky back of the savage, in contrast to the moonlit, white -wagon-cover, offered a good mark; and quickly sighting, the Mexican -drew the trigger. The Apache, with a wild yell, sunk back on the -wagon-tongue and hung suspended across it, killed immediately. This was -a decidedly favorable event; for, awakened by the sight of his habitual -foe, aroused by his successful shot, Pedro was himself again. - -The Canadian smiled as Pedro darted back into the cave, at seeing a -once more natural expression on his features. Should he retain his -equanimity they had but little to fear beyond the plundering of the -train, and that might be prevented for the present, as the whole line -of wagons was commanded by the entrance. - -The utmost confusion prevailed among the dusky plunderers as the fatal -bullet ended their companion’s career forever. Some darted behind -wagons; some flew to their adjacent mustangs; two clambered into a -wagon; while the rest scattered like rabbits, not knowing by whom the -shot was fired, or where the precise marksman was stationed. - -They were thoroughly alarmed, inasmuch as, not belonging to Red-Knife’s -band, they had accidentally fallen upon the train. They had been -surprised at not finding a human being near the wagons; they were -thunder-struck at the mysterious shot and its fatal effect. - -Their alarm and surprise was somewhat dissipated very soon by Pedro’s -firing from a chink in the trap-door. He had aimed at the prostrate -form of a savage, lying on the ground behind a wagon; the bullet struck -him fairly in the side, and, with a groan of mortal agony, he stretched -himself prone, to speedily die. - -Though by this shot Pedro had reduced his enemies’ number in some -degree, still, upon the whole, the shot was disadvantageous, in this -wise: when he fired, the chink being small, the force of the explosion -had carried away a portion of the rotten planking, making the aperture -distinctly visible from the wagons. The lynx-eyed savages instantly -discovered this, and were instantly aware the hill was hollow--a mere -shell. - -A grunt of relief and gratification went around the line of skulking -figures, speedily changed to one of alarm. A hole, black and wide, -suddenly appeared in the hillside; a stream of flame shot out, a report -sounded, and two savages yelled loudly, and, with their comrades, -clambered upon the wheels in order to effectually conceal themselves, -and protect their bodies from the murderous fire. - -“Well done!” remarked Pedro to his companions, all of whom had taken -part in the volley. “We killed none, but made them howl, nevertheless.” - -Cool, deliberate, noble Pedro was himself again--the far-famed scout -and feared Indian-fighter. Now was his brain clear; now were his nerves -steady; and the famous master of Indian strategy was rapidly running -down his No. 1 buckshot, with eyes sparkling like a ferret’s. - -“Senors--sirs, fire not hastily. It is a fault with you Americans--you -are not sufficiently aware of the importance of keeping cool. See! they -have quite concealed themselves; never mind, we are entirely safe, well -ammunitioned, and able to prevent them from plundering the wagons. Keep -cool, watch every point, and when you fire be sure and aim.” - -“I hope they won’t hurt any of my tin cups,” anxiously muttered Duncan. -“We haven’t got but five, and one of them leaks. It’ll be just like ’em -to go and eat all my brown sugar up--oh, my boot-heels! if they do how -I’ll get cussed. If the President of the United States was struck by -lightning you fellers ’d cuss me, and say I was to blame.” - -“Less talking, senor, if you please,” gently admonished Pedro. “‘All -tongue no sand,’ as Simpson says.” - -A few minutes passed, and suddenly Duncan broke out again: - -“Every hair of my head! Save it--oh, save it, for heaven’s sake!” - -“Save what?” asked Robidoux. - -“Don’t you see that small stream running down through the wagon-bottom?” - -“I see something dark, I think. What is it?” - -“Flour! flour! Oh, save it! My boot-heels! won’t I get a cussing when I -tell ’em they can’t have any more biscuit? Everybody ’ll swear at me: -Cook, I never saw such a clumsy bunch of darned carelessness; cook, the -next time you want buffler-chips or fire-wood you can get ’em yourself; -never ask me to pack water for you again, cook, for I won’t do it, you -careless, wasteful old cook; then Cimarron Jack, or whatever you call -him, ’ll sure desert, ’cause I couldn’t help myself when the Injuns -wasted the flour--he, a feller that don’t get bread of any kind once a -year. Oh, every hair of my head! I’m the cussing-post for the world to -swear at--me, the camp-cook, a low, thankless dog.” - -“I will see they are informed of the true state of affairs, now,” said -Pedro, consolingly. - -Duncan burst out, in high dudgeon: - -“Think that ’ll do any good? think ’ee, think ’ee? Sir, I solemnly -swear it!--if you put your hand on the Bible afore an _alcalde_, or -whatever you call him, and swear--yes, sir, swear upon your oath, -they’d still cuss me and say I’m the one to blame. Oh, curse the -unlucky, miserable day I learned to cook! - -“If any young man should come to me and ask me for advice,” he resumed, -after a brief pause, “perhaps I couldn’t tell him what _to_ do, but I -could just naturally tell him what _not_ to do. I’d say, young man, -don’t let any fellow inveigle you into learning the pastry-cook’s -trade--it ’ll be the ruin of you. Oh, look at my flour--going all the -time.” - -During the time in which he had been speaking, the moon had been -steadily moving on its downward, westward course, making the -wagon-shadows larger, perceptibly. Though but little longer, they were -of sufficient length to form a black isthmus between the wagons and the -most distant end of the hill. Duncan, on stopping, observed a change -come o’er the face of the grand old strategist. From a cool, impassible -calm it had changed to an expression of positive terror, which as -quickly vanished, giving, in turn, place to a look of moderate anxiety. - -Stepping to the torch, he extinguished it, gazing anxiously to the roof -before so doing. Then in the darkness he whispered: - -“Senor Wheeler, you will be of more use in guarding the door. Allow me -to advise you to look well to it. Men, you two place yourselves by my -side, in readiness to fire.” - -They did so, and he continued: - -“I saw, just now, the entire body of the Apaches scamper along that -longest shadow to the right. They have discovered the hill is only a -shell, and will endeavor to force their way into it before daybreak. -There are now nine of them and they will at once go to work. There is -nothing to be feared--the moon shines so brightly that we can see the -slightest crevice they may make.” - -No longer they watched the wagons in the bright moonlight; but with -every confidence in their famous leader, with hands touching his -garments, they waited, looking at the small chinks in the roof through -which the white sky shone plainly. - -Pedro was an infallible prophet when he prophesied, for this reason--he -never prognosticated without mature deliberation, always ruled by -existing circumstances. Men wondered and marveled, but, superficial -themselves, considered it a marvelous power, when, like many other -strange powers (?), it was only the legitimate offspring of two healthy -parents--shrewdness and thought. - -In this case he was right. Before five minutes had passed, a slight -noise was heard on one side of the slanting roof, rather low down, a -grating rasping noise. - -“They are boring. God grant they haven’t got my butcher-knife!” -excitedly whispered Duncan, in a fever. “Where do you think they are -boring with their cussed knives and hatchets?” - -Pedro chuckled. - -“They are working too low to reach us. There is one part--a quarter--of -the hill that is solid. They are boring at that place, ha! ha!” - -The rasping continued, growing louder and harsher. The savages were -strangely bold and reckless. No other noise was heard, only the same -quick, grating sounds--grate, grate--as the metal weapons glanced from -the flinty, pebbly soil. - -“If they were boring on this side, now, they would be nearly through, -I judge by their vigorous, rapid work,” observed Pedro. “But, as they -are at work on a solid part of the hill, they will get through to us in -about a week. Ha! ha! Apache!” and he laughed, tauntingly. - -“I wonder where the others are,” interrogatively spoke the Canadian. -“They might be in trouble for all we know.” - -“Near the Dead-Man’s Gulch,” replied Pedro. “I believe they took that -route in pursuit.” - -“They stand a slim chance of recovering the horses.” - -“I was not well at the time the attack was made,” and if it had been -light a blush would have been seen on Pedro’s cheek. “How many did they -number? - -“About thirty, I believe,” Simpson said. - -“Six to one--hum! Well, the odds are certainly against them. If we were -only out of this hole now, we might ride to their assistance.” - -“And leave the girl--the sweet, pretty lass?” - -“Ah, that is a painful mystery--painful indeed. It quite astounds me.” - -“Mr. Wheeler and Carpenter are well nigh crazy over it. It is lucky in -one way that these cussed Apaches have been pestering us--they have -kept their thoughts somewhat away from her. Poor Miss Kissie! Where has -she gone?” - -“Hark!” - -A loud report came to their ears, and at the same time, though unseen -by them, the working Indians, with a loud whoop, fled from the hill. A -shriek of agony at the same time resounded from the roof, and a body -dropped heavily with a hollow sound. - -“By every hair of my head!” cried Duncan, “hear them rascals skedaddle!” - -“Who shot?” cried Pedro. “Senor, I say, who shot?” - -“It came from inside the hill, I’ll take my oath to it!” declared -Robidoux. - -“I know it did, senor--I know it did;” and Pedro’s voice showed he was -excited. “No one shot here, and some one shot from inside the hill and -killed a savage. Who shot?” - -They could not tell. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -A MIRACULOUS ESCAPE. - - -On the “reach” above the fissure in which Cimarron Jack’s band was -concealed, danced and whooped the entire band of Apaches, eager for -white blood, and, as prospects appeared, in good chances of getting it. -Conspicuous among the painted pack stalked Red-Knife, the renegade, to -and fro, cogitating and framing a feasible plan for extermination. - -It needed not a very subtle brain or a very bold man to ferret out -the whites from their present position, and well he knew it. While -many plans, ideas and means gratuitously presented themselves to -his scheming head, but one was accepted--at once the most feasible, -the easiest executed, and the one attended with the least danger--a -surround. - -Conjectured, planned, advocated--done; so he thought, in his inordinate -self-esteem. He did not for a moment consider that the noted “squaw -from the bitter river” was thoroughly versed in savage warfare--that -he had a vast store of experience to draw from--that he was crafty and -brave as a lion. In his vast conceit, he entirely ignored the fact, and -went directly on with putting his plan into execution. - -The whites were in an isolated fissure about fifteen feet in depth by -twenty wide and one hundred long, in the shape of a horse-shoe, the -party being ensconced under the bank at the “caulk” in the concavity. -Here they were safe for the present, but a small ravine opening from -the fissure, rendered their situation precarious. This ravine played -an important part in the tragedy, for whose acts the actors were now -preparing earnestly. - -Where it entered the “horse-shoe” fissure, it was narrow, being only -about three feet in width, but in a hundred yards it ran under sandy -banks, and widened out to forty feet or more. These sandy banks were -crumbling and projecting, overhanging the ravine (more properly a -“draw”), they presented an unstable footing. - -Red-Knife noticed this “draw,” and at once, without consulting his -chiefs, whom he ignored, commenced operations. Detaching a party of -three to take charge of the distant draft-horses, he divided his party -of twenty into two portions. One of these he directed to creep along -the shadow of a projecting bluff until they had made half the circuit -of the horse-shoe; the other, commanded in person by himself, was to -enter the “draw,” keeping in shadow as much as possible. Halting in -the draw, they were to give a preconcerted signal, then both parties -were to prosecute a cross-fire with what arms they possessed. Such -a position would completely command the horse-shoe fissure with its -hidden occupants. - -“Boys,” observed Cimarron Jack, sitting on a mud-bowlder, “this is -lovely; but the thorough-bred from Tartary don’t scare worth a cent. It -takes mighty fine working to face the grizzly domesticator--it does, -for a fact.” - -“Oh, quit yer durned, disgustin’ braggin’! It makes me feel ashamed of -the hull human race,” growled Simpson. - -Cimarron Jack went on, with a sly twinkle at the guide: - -“In addition to my noble and manly qualities, I have the coveted and -rare faculty of insnaring women. Educated at college, of good looks, -as you can see, engaging manners, I cast rough rowdies like this knave -of a guide into the shade. That, you see, makes ’em hot--red-hot; and -when I give, as is my custom, a brief and extremely modest synopsis of -my talents, they call it, in their vulgar way, ‘braggin’.’ I’m the cock -of the walk--hooray! I’m the scorpion and centipede chewer--the wildcat -educator--hooray!” - -“Faugh! it’s downright sickening. Durned ef I kain’t lick any man that -brags so!” declared the guide, with real rising choler. “An’ ef he -don’t like it he kin lump it--thet’s Simpson, the guide.” - -“Dry up; what’s that?” whispered Jack. “Look out, boys--there’s -something forming. Look along that bluff yonder--I think I see -something moving there.” - -The half-earnest wrangle was ceased, and shading his eyes, the guide -peered, as if endeavoring to pierce the drapery of shadow under the -bluff; but if Jack saw any thing, there was no repetition of the -object. Taking his eyes from the bluff, Cimarron Jack turned round, -then uttered a suppressed cry. - -“What is it?” sharply demanded the guide, instantly on the alert. - -“Whew! look there--look yonder!” - -They followed the direction of his pointing finger with their gaze. -Up the draw, and in its widest part, were nearly a dozen Apaches, or -rather parts of them, moving rapidly about. They were visible from -their waists upward, and their arms were tossing as if violently -excited. The light of the yellow moon made this a most grotesque -spectacle, but an utterly incomprehensible one to the whites, who -watched them eagerly. It appeared as if a dozen Apaches had been -deprived of their legs at the loins, and had been cast into the draw -and were tossing their arms in agony. Part of them were upright, part -bending their necks forward, while others were bent backward; and all -were gesticulating violently. - -It was strange, but they were all facing the west, at right angles to -the course of the draw. Though wildly gesturing, and, as it seemed, -struggling, they preserved the utmost silence, frequently gazing toward -the whites, as if fearful of attracting their notice. - -“What can it mean?” asked Sam, utterly confounded. “What does it all -mean?” - -“I think I know,” replied Jack, after a moment’s sober scrutiny; “don’t -you, Simpson?” - -“Yes--think so.” - -“What is it?” and Robidoux’s face wore a look of the most intense -surprise. - -“By Jupiter--hooray! it is, it is! look, they are sinking.” - -It was even so! Each and all were only visible from the breast upward, -now, and their rifles, still clasped tightly, were thrown about in wild -and vehement motions; the guide uttered a sharp exclamation. - -“Quicksanded--quicksanded! see--the draw is darker than at t’other -places. It’s the black sand--quicksand--hooray!” - -“Great Heaven!” ejaculated Carpenter. “They are sinking into a -quicksand--hurrah!” - -“They war makin’ a serround and got cotched--hooray!” shouted the -guide; then the voice of Cimarron Jack rung out: - -“Give it to ’em boys--give it to ’em! aim steady till I count three, -and then--one!” - -Up went the guns, each man taking a struggling, sinking savage. - -“Two!” - -A steady dead aim. - -“Three!” - -Crash--shriek! and then a cloud of dense, sluggish smoke obscured the -river. They had no more than lowered their rifles when a shrill yell -arose behind them, and a rush of feet was heard. Cimarron Jack dropped -his rifle and drew his knife and revolver, facing round. - -“Draw, boys--draw! barkers and knives. A surround! here comes t’other -gang behind us--draw quick and don’t faze!” - -They drew, each a knife and revolver, and faced round, fearing nothing -from the helpless band behind, some of whom must be dead. They did so -just in time. - -From under the projecting bluff darted nine stalwart Apaches, knives -and tomahawks in hand. They had seen their comrades’ utter helplessness -and discomfiture, and looking over the smoke of the volley, had seen -four shot and instantly killed. Burning with rage and chagrin, they -were coming, fifty yards away, with determined faces gleaming hideously -through the red war-paint. - -As they rapidly drew near, Jack cried: - -“Work those pistols lively, boys--shoot a thousand times a minute.” - -They obeyed. Crack--crack! went the pistols, and, though excited, the -aim was tolerably correct, and two Indians went down, one killed, -another disabled. Seven still came on, though warily, facing the -revolvers of the whites, Colt’s great invention doing deadly work at a -short distance. They were running at a dog-trot, dodging and darting -from side to side to prevent any aim being taken; in another moment -they were fighting hand to hand. - -It was a short, deadly struggle, briefly terminated. Jack, Simpson, and -Burt fell to the ground when their respective antagonists were nigh, -avoiding the tomahawks which flew over their heads. Then as an Apache -towered over each, they rose suddenly, and throwing their entire -weight and muscle into the act, plunged their knives into the savage -breasts; the red-skins fell without a groan. - -It was a perilous, nice operation, and few would have dared attempt -it; but knowing if they kept their nerve and temper they would prove -victorious, they accepted the chances, as we have seen, with the -highest success. Calculating nicely, each had about an interval of _two -seconds_ to work in--the interval between the Apaches’ arrival and his -downward knife-thrust. - -Gigantic, fiery Jack stayed not to enjoy a second and sure thrust, but -withdrawing his long knife, hastily glanced around. Back under the bank -was a man fighting desperately with two Apaches--fighting warily, yet -strongly, and in silence. - -It was Carpenter, cutting, thrusting, and dodging. Jack needed but -a glance to satisfy him Carpenter would soon prove a victim to the -superior prowess of the Apaches, and with a wild hurrah sprung forward, -just as Burt and the guide were disengaging themselves from the dead -bodies of their antagonists. But, he was stopped suddenly. - -Covered with mud, dripping with water, and glowing with rage and heat, -a fierce, stalwart savage sprung before him, and he knew him in a -moment. It was Red-Knife--he had escaped from the quicksand and was now -preparing to strike, his tomahawk glinting above his head. - -“Dog from the bitter river--squaw! ugh!” and down went the hatchet. - -But not in Jack’s skull--the Indian scout was too electric in his -thoughts and movements to stand calmly and feel the metal crash into -his brain. Bending low, with the quickness of a serpent, he darted -under the savage’s arm just in time, but he stopped not to congratulate -himself upon his escape, but turning clasped the chief round the waist -and suddenly “tripped him up.” - -The savage’s thigh passed before his face as the chief was hurled -backward. A stream of deep-red blood was spirting from a wide gash in -it--the momentum of the hatchet had been so great Red-Knife had been -unable to check it, and it had entered his thigh and severed the main -artery. The blood was spirting in a large, red stream in the air, and -he felt the warm liquid plash and fall on his back. But he whirled the -faint chief over on his back, and with a sudden, keen blow, drove the -knife into his heart. With a last dying look of malevolency the chief -scowled on his victorious enemy, then the death-rattle sounded in his -throat--he was dead, no longer a renegade. - -Jack sprung up and stood on his guard, but there was no necessity. -Short as the combat had been (only _three minutes_ in duration) it -was now over, being finished as the guide drew his knife from a -convulsively twitching savage, and wiped it on his sleeve. - -Save the eight prostrate savages, not an Indian was in sight. Cool, -steady, reticent Tim Simpson sheathed his knife and picked up his gun -and revolver. - -“Durned spry work!” - -He was not answered. To the majority of the band the thought was -overwhelming--that, where fifteen minutes since, thirty cunning Apaches -were surrounding them, _not one_ remained alive. For several minutes no -one spoke, but all gazed around on the battle scene. - -The draw above was empty--the sinking savages, foiled in their bloody -purpose, had sunk to their death. Carpenter moodily gazed where they -were last visible, and murmured: - -“God bless the quicksand.” - -“Ay, ay!” came from the others’ lips. - -Cimarron Jack sprung up at the “reach,” and looked around. - -“Yonder go three--no, four devils, striking away for dear life. Durn -them! they’ve got enough of it this time, I’ll bet.” - -“Hosses thar?” asked Simpson. - -“One, two, three, eight--every one of ’em.” - -“Le’s git out’n this, then.” - -“All right--before any more come down on us. Devilish pretty work, -wasn’t it?” admiringly queried Jack, looking down on the dead bodies -below. “How’d you get away with your job, Carpenter?” - -“The guide and Burt came to my assistance just as I was giving out. A -minute more and it would have been too late.” - -“And you, Ruby? curse me if I don’t forgive you--you fou’t like -thunder. Two on you, wasn’t there?” - -“Yes; I stabbed one and the other ran off, seeing Simpson coming for -him,” modestly replied Robidoux. - -“Well, we’ve no time to talk. The red rascals are cleaned out--pick up -your weapons, boys, and mount your mustangs, and we’ll get away from -this hot place.” - -They stopped not to gaze longer upon the bloody scene, but mounting -their horses, which under the bank had bravely stood, rode toward the -deserted draft-horses. They were easily collected, and then all rode -away, just as the moonlight was yielding to the paler but stronger -one of day. Elated with victory they left Dead Man’s Gulches (or that -part of them) with the ghastly bodies, soon to wither into dry skin -and bone, and under the paling moonlight rode away, bound back to the -Hillock. - -Thanks to the guide’s memory and cunning, they emerged from the Gulches -at sunrise, and struck out into the yellow plain--safe and sound, -wholly uninjured, and victorious. - -“Five men victorious over thirty Apaches,” cried Jack. “A -tiger-feat--Hercules couldn’t do better with Sampson and Heenan, -with fifty gorillas thrown in for variety. Three and a tiger for the -bravest, smartest, _handsomest_ men in the world. With a will, now!” - -With a will they were given. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -WHO SPEAKS? - - -When at the mysterious shot and death of one of their number, the -Apaches fled down the hillock, they scuttled for the wagons as offering -the best concealment. However, their doing so was to their loss, -diminishing their number by two. Duncan, incensed at the ruthless waste -of his flour, and in perfect keeping with his disposition, had lain in -watchful wait for an opportunity to present itself whereby he could -revenge his loss. An opportunity occurred as they fled toward the -wagons. One savage, with a scarlet diamond on his broad back, offering -a fair aim, he took advantage of it and fired. At the same time, Pedro, -ever ready to embrace any opportunity, fired also. - -Both shots were successful. Duncan’s Apache threw his arms aloft, -and with a yell, plunged headlong; the other sunk to the ground, -with a sharp cry of pain, then crawled slowly away, dragging himself -painfully. But he was summarily stopped by Duncan, who emptied one of -his cylinders at him. This was sufficient; with a last expiring scowl -back upon his foes, he settled prone upon the sand, and his soul went -to the happy hunting-grounds. - -“There have been strange happenings here lately,” gloomily remarked -Pedro, ramming down a bullet. “Who shot just now--tell me that?” - -“Who can?” replied Mr. Wheeler. “Oh, God! if one misfortune were not -enough to bear without a mystery, deep and black, to drive one to -torments. Where is my child?” and he buried his face in his hands. - -“And where is my gold--my precious, yellow treasure?” fiercely demanded -Pedro. - -“What misfortune can compare with mine? what agony as great to bear? -how--” - -Seeing his companion’s eyes fixed interrogatively upon him, he stopped -short, conscious he had been unduly excited and heedless. Turning -sharply to his peeping-place, he said: - -“Senors, we have lessened their number; of them there remains but six. -One or two more killed or disabled would entirely free us, I think, -from their annoying company. Come, senors, look sharp!” - -Duncan and Robidoux exchanged significant glances but said nothing, -only quietly taking their places at the entrance, leaving Mr. Wheeler -stricken again by his gloomy spirits. - -And now faint streaks of daylight slanted across the eastern horizon, -and the yellow moonlight paled before the approach of the predominating -daylight. Perched upon the hubs of the wagon-wheels the sullen Apaches -grunted and growled at their constant defeats, not daring to return to -the hill, and too wary to expose any part of their bodies. The whites -watched and waited with the eyes of a lynx and the patience of a cat, -but to no avail--both parties were afraid to show themselves. - -“Hark!” suddenly cried Mr. Wheeler, springing into the center of the -cave. “What is it--who speaks?” - -“No one spoke, senor,” said Pedro, calmly laying his hand on his -shoulder; “you are nervous and excited, senor--lie down and quiet -yourself.” - -“Don’t talk to me of rest and peace--withdraw your hand! _She_ -spoke--my daughter--and I will never rest until I have found her.” - -In the gloomy light, his eyes shone with at once the sorrow and anger -of a wounded stag; and knowing to resist him would be to endanger his -present health, Pedro considerately withdrew his hand. As he did so -Duncan whispered: - -“I’ll swear I heard her voice, just then--every hair of my head, I did.” - -“I too imagined I heard a soft voice, but undoubtedly it was the band -outside,” continued the Canadian. “Hark--there it is again!” - -All listened. Certainly some one spoke in a soft, effeminate voice, -though so faintly that it was impossible to distinguish the words. - -All listened as though petrified, so intense was the interest--Pedro -alive with hope for his gold, and the others, more especially Mr. -Wheeler, for his lost child. But there was no repetition of the voice, -and after listening for some time they returned to the entrance -gloomily. - -A sudden movement took place among the Apaches. Their mustangs were -grassing out on the plain some five hundred yards distant, being some -half a mile from the sorrel mustang which avoided them. Starting -suddenly from the wagon-wheels they darted away rapidly toward their -steeds, keeping the wagons between them and the hillock, making it -impossible for the whites to aim, even tolerably. - -“Every hair of my sorrel head! my boot-heels! what in Jupiter do them -fellows mean? they’re getting away from us like mad. Skunk after ’em, I -reckon.” - -Pedro’s face lightened as he said, “There is some one approaching, -possibly the party. Certainly it is some one hostile to them, or--” - -He stopped short as a thought flashed over him. Could it be possible -they had seen the apparition--that he had appeared to them? no--the -idea was rejected as soon as conceived. Not knowing the Trailer, at -least that he had been killed once, they would have promptly shot at -him, which they had not done. No--it was something else. - -It was not a ruse to draw them from their concealment, as every one -of the six savages was now scampering hastily for their steeds. They -had all retreated--every one; and confident of no harm, Pedro stepped -boldly out into the daylight and the open plain. - -Down in this country, twilights are brief, and even now the sun was -winking over the horizon. Looking round, his gaze fell upon a small -collection of objects, directly against the sun, a league or more -distant. - -“Horsemen--whites.” - -The Canadian and his companions came out. - -“Horsemen, did you say?” - -“Yes, senor--white horsemen.” - -“Ah, I see--toward the east, against the sun. Coming this way too, are -they not?” - -“Exactly, senor.” - -“How do you know they are white horsemen?--there are many of them.” - -“Because they ride together. Indians scatter loosely or ride by twos. -These are coming together and are leading horses.” - -“Every hair on my sorrel-top but you’ve got sharp eyes!” admiringly -spoke the cook. - -“Experience, senor--experience. Any Mexican boy could tell you the -color of those coming horsemen. But look over the plain; see the brave -Apaches scamper toward the south-west, whipping their tardy mustangs. -They are gone, and we need fear them no more--they will not come back -for the present. We will meet our friends--for it is they.” - -Of course Pedro was right--he always was; and when the returning and -elated party drew up before the hillock, the savages had disappeared. - -They had scarcely dismounted when Mr. Wheeler appeared from within. The -old gentleman was greatly excited, and begged them to come at once into -the cave. - -“What’s up?” cried Jack, springing toward the entrance. The old man, -in broken tones, said he distinctly heard his daughter’s voice in the -hill, mingled with a deep, harsh one--the voice of a man. - -“There must be another chamber!” Pedro shouted. - -“There are shovels in the wagons; get them and come on!” echoed Sam. - -The shovels were quickly brought, and the whole party, wildly excited, -sprung into the cave. - -“Now listen!” whispered Mr. Wheeler. - -They did so, and distinctly heard a female voice, in pleading tones, at -one end of the first chamber. - -“There _is_ another chamber, and here it is,” cried Jack. “Shovel -away--work and dig! Simpson, you and Scranton go outside and see no one -escapes. She’s in a third chamber, and we’ll find her--hurrah!” - -“Hurrah! we’ll find her!” chorused the wild men, commencing to dig -furiously. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -TWICE DEAD. - - -They had not long to dig, as the soil was yielding, and the strong -arms of the excited and determined men drove the spades deep into the -hillside. Men clamored to relieve each other, and in their wild desire -to force their way through, yelled and even pitched dirt away from the -workmen with their hands. Never before had the hillock, in all its -experience of murders, robberies and crime, looked upon such a wild, -frenzied scene. - -Furious were the blows showered upon the mold wall--strong the arms of -the resolute, high-strung men that wielded them, and eager the hearts -that beat for rescue. Indians, fatigue, hunger--all were forgotten; -and as fast as a shovelful of dirt was cast from the blade it was -thrown far back by the rapidly moving hands of those for whom there -were no shovels. - -At last the foremost man, Sam, uttered a sharp cry, and struck a -furious blow at the wall; his shovel had gone through--there was a -third chamber. At the same moment a loud report rung out inside, a -woman’s voice shrieked, and Sam staggered back, clasping his left arm -above the elbow with his right hand; some one from the inside had -discharged a rifle at him. - -Furious before, the excitement now had become frenzy. Several ferocious -blows were struck at the hole; it widened; several more, and the men -plunged headlong, found themselves in a third chamber, with a body -under their feet--a soft, pliant body. Regardless of aught else, they -drew it to the gap, and recognized the features--the face--the form -of--Kissie. - -They heard a noise, a clamor above, and ran eagerly outside, leaving -Sam, pale and sick, yet wild with delight, and Mr. Wheeler, caressing -the fair girl, who had fainted away. It is useless to describe the -scene--pen can not do it; and knowing the reader’s imagination is far -more powerful than any description, we leave him to fancy it; it was a -meeting of intense joy. - -Arriving outside, the men, headed by Cimarron Jack, found the guide and -Burt engaged in a fierce struggle with a gigantic man in a _serape_, a -conical hat and black plume. Knife in hand, backed up against the hill, -with swarthy face glowing, and black eyes sparkling, he was lunging -furiously at them in silence. Colossal in form, expert in the use of -his knife, rendered desperate by his small chances of escape, the -Trailer fought like a demon and kept his smaller opponents at bay. - -“Don’t kill him!” shouted Jack; “we must take him alive. Let me in to -him--stand back, boys. I know who he is--the Trailer.” - -At the mention of his name, the latter turned and scowled at him, and -hoarsely cried: - -“Cimarron Jack--my old enemy--may you burn in ----!” - -Jack, dashing forward with clubbed gun, and with his huge form -towering above his companions, rushed at him. In vain the Trailer -endeavored to elude the descending weapon; in vain he darted back; the -gun descended full on his head, knocking him backward and prone to the -earth, senseless. - -Just then a man appeared, running, with a bag in one hand and a long, -beautiful rifle in the other; it was Pedro Felipe with his recovered -treasure, which he discovered in the new chamber. Finding that the -apparition that had haunted him was none other than the ex-robber -lieutenant, and that, like himself, he was probably in search of the -treasure, he had burned with rage at his theft and crime, and was now -seeking his life. - -“Dog of a robber--fit associate for your old captain; coward, villain, -I have come for your blood! Where is he? Let me reach him.” - -But they held him back firmly, and after being made cognizant of -Cimarron Jack’s desire to keep him alive, he calmed himself, and -proceeded to bind the senseless robber securely. This he did with his -lariat, which he brought from inside, keeping the precious bag with him -wherever he went. Then after he had bound him fast, and given the body -a slight spurn with his foot, he said: - -“When he recovers, we will kill him.” - -“When the Trailer recovers, he will be shot dead!” added Cimarron Jack. - -“Ay, ay!” was the general response. - -“All right, boys--let us go and see the pretty girl, and leave the two -Robidouxs to stand guard over him. My eye; ain’t she beautiful, though?” - -“You bet!” responded Burt, proudly. - -Inside they found Kissie quite recovered, with her father and young -Carpenter sitting jealously by her. Though pale and thin, she, in her -joy, looked, to the eyes of the men, more charming than ever before. - -What had come to pass? Was a revolution about to arise? for when she -signified she was very hungry, Duncan stirred hastily about, actually -glad of a chance to cook. Mind that--actually glad. As all were hungry, -he was forced to call upon the men for assistance, services which they -gladly rendered, and soon the savory odor of cooking filled the cave. - -“So he gave you enough to eat, did he, my daughter?” asked Mr. Wheeler, -gazing fondly into her face. - -“Oh, yes, plenty; and a warm, soft blanket to sit upon; and he was -kind, too--only sometimes he would rave to himself, stricken by -remorse.” - -“Did he maltreat you in any manner?” fiercely demanded Carpenter. - -“Oh, no, not at all. He was away most of the time; and when he -was present he always kept busy counting a splendid--oh, so -lovely!--treasure he had; all gold, and jewels and ornaments--an -immense sum they must be worth.” - -“That is what brought Pedro here, then,” remarked Sam; “he has the bag, -now, outside, where he is guarding the Trailer.” - -“Oh, Pedro was so good to me. When he went out to tell you I was here, -that horrid man stole in by a secret passage, snatched the bag from a -small hole, then put out the torch and carried me in here. His horse -he kept there, and sometimes he would get stubborn and try to kick me; -then you should have seen him beat him. Once some Indians tried to cut -their way through to us and he shot and killed one.” - -“Yes, he lies outside now. We heard the shot, and it mystified us,” -remarked Napoleon Robidoux. - -“That villain caused us enough trouble,” said Burt. “I’m downright glad -he has lost the gold--Pedro has fairly earned it.” - -“So he has,” was the cry. - -A shout came from without, in Pedro’s voice: - -“Come out--come out!” - -Expecting Indians, all rushed out but Sam and Mr. Wheeler, the former -being disabled by the bullet of the Trailer, which had passed through -his arm, though not breaking it. When they arrived outside they found -the Mexican glowering over the ex-robber, who had recovered his senses, -and was now scowling upon the party. The blow from the rifle had not -proved a very forcible one, as a large “bunch” on his head was the only -sign of it. - -“Now he has recovered, we will shoot him at once!” and Pedro’s eyes -sparkled. - -“Ay, ay--take him out!” was the unanimous cry. - -The Trailer scowled. - -All of these men had seen “Judge Lynch,” and many had assisted him. -Following the order of the age, they did not hesitate, but proceeded at -once to business. - -They took him from the hillock, from the side of the savage he had -slain, and among other red corpses scattered about they placed him upon -his feet. He immediately lay down. - -“Get up!” commanded Pedro, who was the acknowledged chief. - -The robber only scowled in reply. - -“Get up, and die like a man and not like a cowering hound!” urged Jack. - -This had the effect desired, and the Trailer rose. - -“Now, senors, load your rifles!” - -“They are all loaded.” - -“It is well. Have you any thing to say, Trailer?” - -No answer save a scowl. - -“It is your last chance. Again, have you any thing to say?” - -“_Si: car-r-ramba!_” - -“It is enough. Take him out.” - -He was placed now in the open plain, facing the hillock. The men drew -up in line, not twenty feet distant. - -“Are you all ready, senors?” asked Pedro, aiming at the victim’s heart. - -“We are ready.” - -“It is good. Aim well, each at his heart. I will count three. One.” - -The Trailer’s face was a trifle paler now, but his scowl was blacker -and more malignant. - -“Two!” - -The Trailer stood firm. Along the line of men eying his heart he saw -no look of mercy, nor look of pity; only a settled determination to -execute the law of “Judge Lynch.” - -Dead silence. - -“Three!” - -The Trailer fell flat on his face. Lifting him up they found him -dead--twice dead--but now forever on earth. - -Our tale is ended. Cimarron Jack, with many good wishes and blessings -from his true friends, at length tore himself away, and rode off toward -the Colorado River, to which place he was _en route_, long to be -remembered by those he had befriended. Simpson parted with Pedro much -against his will, but was consoled by the latter’s promising to meet -him on the Colorado. Then he, Pedro, and Cimarron Jack were to unite, -and well armed and equipped were to penetrate to the ruins of the old -Aztecans--a much talked of, but rarely seen, country. They underwent -many marvelous and perilous adventures, but we have not space to relate -them. - -Pedro was rich--enormously rich--and on returning safely to his “sunny -land” was joyfully welcomed back, and congratulated upon his success. -God bless him, say we. - -When the party arrived at Fort Leavenworth, as they safely did, there -was a wedding, and a joyful one it was, too, Sam, of course, being the -happy groom. There the party separated, all but Duncan and Simpson -continuing their journey east. - -Strange to say, Duncan--grumbling, unhappy Duncan--went back with -Simpson, in order to explore the Great Colorado Canon with the three -Indian-fighters, in the capacity of _camp-cook_. He was unhappy, of -course, and he had no cooking conveniences; but managed to assume -complete mastery over his strangely-assorted companions, and to keep -them alive with his original observations and half sulky grumblings. - - -THE END. - - - - -THE ILLUMINATED DIME POCKET NOVELS! - -PUBLISHED SEMI-MONTHLY. - -Comprising the best works only of the most popular living writers -in the field of American Romance. Each issue a complete novel, with -illuminated cover, rivaling in effect the popular chromo, - -=And yet Sold at the Standard Price--Ten Cents!= - -Incomparably the most beautiful and attractive series, and the most -delightful reading, ever presented to the popular reading public. - -Distancing all rivalry, equally in their beauty and intrinsic -excellence as romances, this new series will quickly take the lead in -public favor, and be regarded as the Paragon Novels! - - -NOW READY, AND IN PRESS. - - =No. 1=--=Hawkeye Harry, the Young Trapper Ranger.= - By Oll Coomes. - =No. 2=--=Dead Shot=; or, The White Vulture. - By Albert W. Aiken. - =No. 3=--=The Boy Miners=; or, The Enchanted Island. - By Edward S. Ellis. - =No. 4=--=Blue Dick=; or, The Yellow Chief’s Vengeance. - By Capt. Mayne Reid. - =No. 5=--=Nat Wolfe=; or, The Gold-Hunters. - By Mrs. M. V. Victor. - =No. 6=--=The White Tracker=; or, The Panther of the Plains. - By Edward S. Ellis. - =No. 7=--=The Outlaw’s Wife=; or, The Valley Ranche. - By Mrs. Ann S. Stephens. - =No. 8=--=The Tall Trapper=; or, The Flower of the Blackfeet. - By Albert W. Aiken. - =No. 9=--=Lightning Jo, the Terror of the Santa Fe Trail.= - By Capt. Adams. - =No. 10=--=The Inland Pirate.= A Tale of the Mississippi. - By Captain Mayne Reid. - =No. 11=--=The Boy Ranger=; or, The Heiress of the Golden Horn. - By Oll Coomes. - =No. 12=--=Bess, the Trapper.= A Tale of the Far South-west. - By Edward S. Ellis. - =No. 13=--=The French Spy=; or, The Fall of Montreal. - By W. J. Hamilton. - =No. 14=--=Long Shot=; or, The Dwarf Guide. - By Capt. Comstock. - =No. 15=--=The Gunmaker of the Border.= - By James L. Bowen. - =No. 16=--=Red Hand=; or, The Channel Scourge. - By A. G. Piper. - =No. 17=--=Ben, the Trapper=; or, The Mountain Demon. - By Maj. Lewis W. Carson. - =No. 18=--=Wild Raven, the Ranger=; or, The Missing Guide. - By Oll Coomes. - =No. 19=--=The Specter Chief=; or, The Indian’s Revenge. - By Seelin Robins. - =No. 20=--=The B’ar-Killer=; or, The Long Trail. - By Capt. Comstock. - =No. 21=--=Wild Nat=; or, The Cedar Swamp Brigade. - By Wm. R. Eyster. - =No. 22=--=Indian Jo, the Guide.= - By Lewis W. Carson. - =No. 23=--=Old Kent, the Ranger.= - By Edward S. Ellis. - =No. 24=--=The One-Eyed Trapper.= - By Capt. Comstock. - =No. 25=--=Godbold, the Spy.= A Tale of Arnold’s Treason. - By N. C. Iron. - =No. 26=--=The Black Ship.= - By John S. Warner. - =No. 27=--=Single Eye, the Scourge.= - By Warren St. John. - =No. 28=--=Indian Jim.= A Tale of the Minnesota Massacre. - By Edward S. Ellis. - =No. 29=--=The Scout.= - By Warren St. John. - =No. 30=--=Eagle Eye.= - By W. J. Hamilton. - =No. 31=--=The Mystic Canoe.= A Romance of a Hundred Years Ago. - By Edward S. Ellis. - =No. 32=--=The Golden Harpoon=; or, Lost Among the Floes. - By Roger Starbuck. - =No. 33=--=The Scalp King.= - By Lieut. Ned Hunter. - =No. 34=--=Old Lute, the Indian-fighter=; or, The Den in the Hills. - By E. W. Archer. - =No. 35=--=Rainbolt, the Ranger=; or, The Ærial Demon of the Mountain. - By Oll Coomes. - =No. 36=--=The Boy Pioneer.= - By Edward S. Ellis. - =No. 37=--=Carson, the Guide=; or, the Perils of the Frontier. - By Lieut. J. H. Randolph. - =No. 38=--=The Heart Eater=; or, The Prophet of the Hollow Hill. - By Harry Hazard. - =No. 39=--=Wetzel, the Scout=; or, The Captives of the Wilderness. - By Boynton Belknap, M. D. - =No. 40=--=The Huge Hunter=; or, The Steam Man of the Prairies. - By Edward S. Ellis. - =No. 41=--=Wild Nat, the Trapper.= - By Paul Prescott. - =No. 42=--=Lynx-cap=; or, The Sioux Track. - By Paul Bibbs. - =No. 43=--=The White Outlaw=; or, The Bandit Brigand. - By Harry Hazard. - =No. 44=--=The Dog Trailer.= - By Frederick Dewey. Ready - =No. 45=--=The Elk King.= - By Capt. Chas. Howard. Ready - =No. 46=--=Adrian, the Pilot.= - By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Ready March 28th. - =No. 47=--=The Man-hunter.= - By Maro O. Rolfe. Ready April 11th. - -☞ BEADLE’s DIME POCKET NOVELS are always in print and for sale by -all newsdealers; or will be sent, post-paid, to any address: single -numbers, ten cents; six months (13 Nos.) $1.25; one year (26 Nos.) -$2.50. Address, - -BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York - - - - -Transcriber’s Notes - - -A number of typographical errors were corrected silently. - -Cover image is in the public domain. - -Duplicate chapter numbered VI renumbered to XIII. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PHANTOM TRACKER; OR THE -PRISONER OF THE HILL CAVE *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/68300-0.zip b/old/68300-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 3d367c6..0000000 --- a/old/68300-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/68300-h.zip b/old/68300-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index a0b4a1e..0000000 --- a/old/68300-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/68300-h/68300-h.htm b/old/68300-h/68300-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 9e70600..0000000 --- a/old/68300-h/68300-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5524 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<head> - <meta charset="UTF-8" /> - <title> - The Phantom Tracker; or The Prisoner of the Hill Cave, by Frederick Dewey—A Project Gutenberg eBook - </title> - <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover" /> - <style> /* <![CDATA[ */ - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2,h3 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -.h2sub { text-align: center; } - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } -hr.r15 {width: 15%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 42.5%; margin-right: 42.5%;} - -div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} -h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} - -ul { - list-style-type: none; /* Remove bullets */ - padding: 0; /* Remove padding */ - margin: 0; /* Remove margins */ -} - -.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - font-style: normal; - font-weight: normal; - font-variant: normal; - text-indent: 0; -} /* page numbers */ - -.titlepage - {max-width: 30em; - border: solid thin; - text-align: center; - margin: 2em auto; - padding: 1em;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} - -.sans-serif { - font-family: sans-serif; -} - -.gesperrt -{ - letter-spacing: 0.2em; - margin-right: -0.2em; -} - -em.gesperrt -{ - font-style: normal; -} - -/* Images */ - -img { - max-width: 100%; - height: auto; -} -img.w100 {width: 100%;} - -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; - page-break-inside: avoid; - max-width: 100%; -} - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - -.illowp100 {width: 100%;} -.x-ebookmaker .illowp100 {width: 100%;} - - /* ]]> */ </style> - -</head> - -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The phantom tracker; or The prisoner of the hill cave, by Fredrick Dewey</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The phantom tracker; or The prisoner of the hill cave</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em;'>Beadle's Pocket Novels No. 48</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Fredrick Dewey</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: June 12, 2022 [eBook #68300]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: David Edwards, SF2001, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Northern Illinois University Digital Library)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PHANTOM TRACKER; OR THE PRISONER OF THE HILL CAVE ***</div> - - <div class="figcenter illowp100" id="i_cover" style="max-width: 30em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/cover-small.jpg" alt="Cover" /> - </div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="titlepage"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</span></p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Vol. IV.</span>]   APRIL 29, 1876.   [<span class="smcap">No. 48.</span></p> - -<h1>THE PHANTOM TRACKER;<br /> -<small><small>OR,</small><br /> -THE PRISONER OF THE HILL CAVE.</small></h1> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<p class="center">BY FREDERICK DEWEY,<br /> -AUTHOR OF “THE DOG TRAILER,” “WILL-O’-THE WISP,” ETC.</p> -<hr class="r15" /> - -<p class="center">NEW YORK:<br /> -BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS,<br /> -98 WILLIAM STREET. -</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="center"> -Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by<br /> -<span class="gesperrt">FRANK STARR</span> & CO.,<br /> -In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.<br /> -</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_PHANTOM_TRAILER">THE PHANTOM TRAILER;<br /> -<small><small>OR,</small><br /> -THE PRISONER OF THE HILL CAVE.</small></h2> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">THE CAVE-HUNTER AND THE SHADOW.</p> - -<p>It was a sultry, scorching day, on the banks of the river -Gila—very sultry and silent. The sun in the zenith looked -whitely down, and the yellow banks reflected its rays fiercely -on the sluggishly-creeping, warm river. Away over the flat, -glistening plain reigned the utmost silence. As far as the eye -could reach it saw nothing—only dead level, dead heat, and -dead silence. Here, mile upon mile from civilization, hundreds -of miles away from any habitation, this vast wilderness -stretched away—always level, always hazy, always silent—a -spectral land.</p> - -<p>A large catfish lazily rolled and tumbled on the surface of -the river, too hot to swim, and too stupid to move—lying -there, he only, at times, waved his fins and tumbled gently. -A vulture sat on a sand-crag just above him—a water-vulture, -or, rather, a brown, dirty fish-hawk. He was lazily watching -his chance to swoop suddenly down upon the fish, and carry -him off in his talons. But it was too hot to undergo any useless -exertion, so he watched and waited for a sure chance, -pluming himself moodily.</p> - -<p>A panting coyote sat on his house at a little distance, watching -the pair, and vaguely conscious that he was very hungry; -a mule-rabbit under an adjacent tiny shrub tremblingly watched -the coyote, starting violently at the slightest movement of -the latter; and a huge yellow serpent, long and supple, -dragged his scaly body up the bluff toward the rabbit.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</span></p> - -<p>The sun shone redly down now, leaving its white appearance -for a sanguinary and blood-red hue; a haze was brewing.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the quiet was disturbed. The coyote sneaked -away, with his bristly chin upon his lank shoulder; this -alarmed the rabbit, and he, too, fled, making the most gigantic -leaps; in ten seconds he had disappeared. The snake’s eyes -flashed in enraged disappointment, and hissing spitefully, he -raised his head to discover the cause of the hasty flight.</p> - -<p>He soon saw it. On the barren banks he could have seen -a mouse at a long distance. The object he saw was the exact -reverse of that diminutive quadruped, being a large, stalwart, -swarthy man, on a large black horse.</p> - -<p>He appeared suddenly, riding over the crest of an adjacent -hillock. He stopped on the summit, glared keenly around, -then rode down into the river. He stopped in the river where -the thirsty horse drank greedily. Then, after dismounting -and drinking deeply himself, he boldly rode up the opposite -bank.</p> - -<p>He appeared well acquainted with the locality, for this was -the only fordable place for miles—either the river was too -deep or the bottom too soft—“quicksandy.”</p> - -<p>Riding up the bank, he halted and sat for a moment buried -in profound thought. He was a Mexican, a giant in proportions. -His visage was that of a crafty, wily man, and his -keen black eye was one that never quailed. His dress was -simple, being in the American manner, of well dressed buck-skin. -He however still clung to his <i>sombrero</i>, which, instead -of being cocked jauntily on the side of his head, was drawn -down over his eyes to shield them from the hot sun. His -whole equipment was that of a mounted ranger, and this style -of dress has so often been described as to be familiar to all.</p> - -<p>Instead of the short carbine which a Mexican habitually -carries, he sported a long, elegant rifle—a very witch to charm -a hunter’s eye. Then he had a brace of silver-mounted revolvers, -each firing five times without reloading. Like the -rifle, they were costly, and fatally precise and true, models of -expensive and beautiful workmanship.</p> - -<p>But in his belt was that which, however captivating to the -eye <i>they</i> might be, cast them into the shade. It was a long<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</span> -dagger, double-edged, sharp as a razor, with a basket handle -of rare workmanship. This last was gold (the handle)—pure, -yellow gold, chased and milled into all manner of quaint and -droll devices. It hung jauntily in its ornamented sheath at -his belt, and his hand was forever caressing its beautiful -handle.</p> - -<p>Why should this man, forty years of age, rough, plainly -dressed, riding with the stealthy air of one who is at war—with -a ragged saddle and plain, even homely steed, have such -elegant and costly weapons? They cost a large sum, evidently, -and should be the property of a prince.</p> - -<p>While he is caressing his dagger, as the weapons and their -history are the subjects of this narrative, let us go back a year -for a brief space.</p> - -<p>The name of the Mexican was Pedro Felipe, the old and -tried servant of a wealthy and kind master, also a Mexican. -A year ago his master, Señor Martinez, had occasion to cross -a vast, sterile wilderness, lying a hundred or more miles north -of the Gila river. While on that plain, in a remote part of -it, called the Land of Silence (a ghostly, spectral plain, considered -haunted), his only daughter, a beautiful young girl, -was abducted by a robber chief, and carried away to a rendezvous—a -hollow hill in the plain. Here she was rescued -by Pedro, disguised as a black savage.</p> - -<p>The hillock had an aperture in it, and Pedro, on hearing a -noise, looked out and saw the lieutenant of the band, a fierce -man called the “Trailer,” approaching. Knowing he must -take his life or be discovered by the whole band, he shot him -dead, from off his horse.</p> - -<p>From the Trailer’s body he took the weapons we have described, -and then left the body to be devoured by wolves and -birds of prey. He was certain that in the hillock a large -treasure was secreted, but fearing to be discovered by the -band, whom he expected to arrive every hour, he left without -searching for it. But the band, he soon after learned, disbanded -without returning to the hillock, and left for Mexico.</p> - -<p>Pedro had but one glaring fault—the love of gold. He -was now on his way to the hill in the Land of Silence, to -search for the treasure, and he felt confident of finding it. -Why not? The captain and the Trailer were dead—he had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</span> -seen them both fall; the party had at the same time disorganized; -and he was certain they had never returned to seek -for it.</p> - -<p>The Trailer had been the last robber on the spot, and he -himself had killed him; so he was certain of finding the -treasure untouched.</p> - -<p>Pedro Felipe’s absorbing love of gold had brought him on -this hot day to the northern bank of the Gila, on his way to -the Land of Silence in search of it.</p> - -<p>The sun gleamed redly through the haze as Pedro looked -northward, with his raven eye toward the spectered Land of -Silence. It was an ill-fated land. Many dark and mysterious -deeds had taken place there, many deeds of which the -world would never know. Indians and hunters avoided it -and deemed it haunted by evil spirits. Well it might be; it -was a ghostly, hazy, quiet place, where the sun shone fiercely, -and water was scarce.</p> - -<p>Pedro’s experience had been strange in this land, and he was -very superstitious. But he was also brave and crafty, having -the reputation of being the best Mexican scout and Indian-fighter -in his part of the country.</p> - -<p>So, urged on by his love of gold—his only and great fault—and -by the prospect of adventure and excitement, he was -to brave, alone and unaided, the land of specters and of -death—the Land of Silence.</p> - -<p>He turned his horse’s head to the south, and peered away -over the plain. Nothing was in sight; he was alone in the -vast wilderness.</p> - -<p>“Farewell, Mexico!” he said; “good-by to your sunny -plains and pleasant groves! May it not be long before I -come back to thee, my land! Farewell, my old master, my -beautiful mistress, and her noble husband; my old companion, -Benedento—and all I hold dear. This morning I -stood on your border, sunny Mexico. To-morrow, at sunset, -I will be alone, <i>alone</i> in the Land of Silence. Farewell, my -land! I may never tread your soil again.”</p> - -<p>He slowly dismounted, and placing his arm affectionately -round his steed’s neck, raised his <i>sombrero</i> reverently.</p> - -<p>“My faithful horse, we must go; time is precious. Once -more, farewell, my land.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</span></p> - -<p>He waved his hand with a graceful parting-salute, calmly, -but with a vague presentiment of coming evil. Then he remounted, -turning his horse’s head to the north; under the hot -sun, blazing with blinding heat, in the desert alone, he rode -away, bound for the Land of Silence.</p> - -<p>As he started, a vulture rose from an adjacent knoll, and -wheeled slowly above him, and croaked dismally. Was it a -bad augury—the warning of evil to come?</p> - -<p>The vulture returned to his perch; the other animals returned -to their former places, and Pedro was riding away.</p> - -<p>As the last wink of the setting sun gleamed out over the -silent plain, a new form appeared on the southern bank of -the river. He, too, peered sharply about him when he reached -the crest of the knoll, and he was very wary and watchful. -When he had finished his scrutiny without seeing any thing to -alarm him, or arouse distrust, he rode down the bank.</p> - -<p>In the river his horse (a powerful black) halted to drink; -but the rider never moved. Then, when he had finished, the -horse stepped up the northern bank and galloped away -toward the north.</p> - -<p>The traveler was dressed in buck-skin; was armed to the -teeth; had a black, conical hat in which a black plume nodded -and waved, and a face in which glowed two raven eyes.</p> - -<p>He was an ugly-looking customer—a desperado in appearance.</p> - -<p>In the twilight soon horse and rider became blended in one -blurred mass as they receded, rapidly growing fainter to the -sight, and further away. In half an hour darkness had fallen, -and they were no longer visible from the river bank.</p> - -<p>Who was the rider?</p> - -<p>Ask the winds.</p> - -<p>Where was he going?</p> - -<p>To the Land of Silence, directly in the Mexican’s tracks.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">LOST IN THE DESERT.</p> - -<p>On the afternoon in which last chapter’s events occurred, -a train of three wagons plodded slowly up to the southern -bank of the Gila, about twenty miles east from the place -where Pedro forded it. Here was quite a good ford, and it -was somewhat in use, being on a northern trail—one of the -many from Mexico to the north. The country about it was -exactly similar to that around the other ford with one exception—away -in the east, Vulture Mountain was barely visible -in the distance. From that mountain toward the east the -Gila river was constantly under the quiet supervision of a -sandy-rocky range of disconnected mountains, to its extreme -source. But here all was flat, sterile, and quiet.</p> - -<p>The wagons were accompanied by several horsemen, and -one horsewoman—or rather, young girl. In fact, these were almost -the entire party, the only ones in the wagons being the -teamster, one American, and two Canadians.</p> - -<p>It was a small train—a “whiffit-outfit.” Three wagons -were a small number beside the dozens that generally consorted. -It could easily be seen it was not the property of a -large stock-owner or freighter, but was evidently the property -of a single man—an emigrant.</p> - -<p>It was even so. The man yonder on the verge of the bank—that -sturdy, bronzed man of fifty or thereabouts, about -whom the other horsemen gather, is the owner: Joel Wheeler, -a northern New Yorker.</p> - -<p>Hearing of the rapid fortunes which were constantly being -made by enterprising Americans in Mexico, he had left a -comfortable home in New York to gain immense riches. -After being in that “golden” land for several years he had -found out what many others had done before him—that the -men in Mexico were as keen and shrewd at a bargain as any -one else—in fact, many times more so.</p> - -<p>His exchequer ran low; marauding savages and violent<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span> -disease thinned his flocks; his native servants plundered him; -until, completely disgusted and homesick, he packed his goods -and chattels and started, <i>en route</i> for his old State.</p> - -<p>His daughter, the horsewoman on the sorrel pony, was a -sweet, lovely girl of eighteen. Blessed with natural beauty, -the several years’ sojourn in Mexico had done much to enliven -and develop it—being a brunette she was rendered doubly -comely by the fresh, dry air of that country.</p> - -<p>Another of its pleasant freaks had it played upon her; it -had given her that much to be desired blessing, <i>perfect</i> health. -From a pallid, feeble invalid she had become a jovial, blooming -maid—a very picture of sound health. During her residence -in Mexico she had, without losing her northern modesty -and chastity, contracted the universal <i>abandon</i> of the graceful, -indolent people, which, while it detracted nothing from her -purity, visibly added to her external attractions. In one respect, -however, she still clung to her former breeding—her -equitation. While it was, and is, customary for Mexican ladies, -when so inclined, to ride astride of a horse, and while -she knew it was much the easiest way, she still rode, as she -termed it, “in civilized fashion.”</p> - -<p>Christina Wheeler (Christina being curtailed to the tantalizing -appellation of Kissie) was a courageous, high-spirited -girl. Though being in possession of several masculine traits, -she still preserved that feminine reserve and chariness of conduct -which is so necessary in male eyes, and without which -woman sinks to the level of a beautiful, favorite dog, or a precise, -costly gem. She was a kind and beloved mistress to the -few servants; and while treating them graciously and well, -brooked no unseemly or obtrusive familiarity. Besides her -beauty she was no nobler nor more intellectual than scores of -women one may chance upon during a day’s ride through a -prosperous and refined district. But her beauty was regal—more—bewitching, -as many a disappointed Mexican dandy -only too well remembered, who had basked in her impartial -smiles only to mope and sulk afterward.</p> - -<p>Did I say impartial smiles? I was wrong—entirely so. If -report said truly, the sweetest were bestowed on her father’s -chief man, or foreman. He was with the party, being an -adopted son of the old gentleman. Sturdy, self-reliant and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span> -brave, and withal, handsome, being brought up from infancy -with Christina, no wonder her romantic spirit had endowed -him with all the qualities requisite as a hero. It had; and -as she gazed at him now, as he conversed with her father, she -felt pleased at seeing how much he relied on young Carpenter.</p> - -<p>The young man bestrode a light-colored steed, known from -its peculiar color throughout the western and southern States -as a “clay-bank.” He was well curried and rubbed down; -indeed a curry-comb attached to his saddle-horn denoted this -was an every-day occurrence, even in the desert.</p> - -<p>Such a man was Samuel Carpenter. At twenty-five years -of age he well understood wild life, and it showed his tidy, -neat habits—every thing belonging to him being kept in perfect -order.</p> - -<p>The other two horsemen were rough-looking, wiry men of -middle age. One, mounted on a gray “States horse,” was -Burt Scranton—Carpenter’s assistant. The other was a man -well known in southern Texas and northern Mexico—“Tim -Simpson, the guide.”</p> - -<p>The latter, for a stipulated sum, had agreed to conduct the -party by the shortest and quickest way to the Leavenworth -and Texas trail—being nearly four hundred miles from their -present position.</p> - -<p>Like many others of his calling he was reticent in the extreme, -scarcely speaking save in monosyllables. He had several -reasons for this: one was that it <i>kept him out of trouble</i>; -another, that he was not annoyed by a cross-fire of questions, -which guides detest.</p> - -<p>The teamsters were Kit Duncan, an American, and Napoleon -and Louis Robidoux, two brother Canadians, whom Joel -Wheeler had brought from New York. They were now returning -with glad hearts toward their northern home.</p> - -<p>It is unnecessary to state the party was well armed—every -man carried a rifle, and the regulation brace of revolvers and -a “bowie.” The wagons were drawn by horses—six to a -wagon.</p> - -<p>Instead of sitting in the wagon and driving, the teamsters -had adopted the southern habit, of riding the “near” wheel-horse -and guiding the leaders by a single line. When wishing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span> -to “gee,” he steadily pulled the line; to “haw,” a short -jerk was sufficient.</p> - -<p>This is the party, its outfit and position, now on the southern -bank of the Gila.</p> - -<p>They forded the river and stood headed northward on the -other side. Now they were in the heart of the Indian country—now -they must be wary and guard against the hostile -and cunning savages.</p> - -<p>“Well,” remarked Mr. Wheeler, looking north, “had we -better stop here, or go on?”</p> - -<p>The question was addressed to the guide, who was down -on his knees searching for Indian “sign.” He arose.</p> - -<p>“Stop hyar.”</p> - -<p>“Why? what are your reasons?”</p> - -<p>“Water hyar. No water fur forty mile.”</p> - -<p>“Is that so? Well, then we had better stop. We can’t -afford to lie out all night without water, can we Sam?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir,” replied the young man. “We should be obliged -to fast if we did. When the weather is sultry, especially on -the southern prairies, food begets thirst. We should suffer -without water. Any old plainsman will tell you when out -of water to keep your stomach empty, unless a dry cracker -can be called food. It is true, medical men say the reverse; -but, sir, men that have suffered thirst know that food without -water is dangerous. <i>I have tried it.</i>”</p> - -<p>“K’rect!” muttered the old guide, in assent.</p> - -<p>“Skience is one thing an’ experience is another,” declared -Burt Scranton. “I’ve studied one an’ tried t’other. Unhitch, -boys.”</p> - -<p>All hands went to work to prepare for the night. While -the preparations for camping were going on, the cook, Kit -Duncan (the hardest worked, and consequently sourest and -snarliest man in the party), who was also a teamster, went -down to the stream to fill his kettle with water.</p> - -<p>A “jack-rabbit,” startled at his approach, sprung from under -a projecting sand-point, and darted away up the bank. -As it gracefully and rapidly “loped” away, Christina (or -Kissie, as we shall call her), ever on the alert, noticed it.</p> - -<p>“Oh, what an enormous rabbit!” she cried. “The largest -I ever saw. Pray, Simpson, is that the common rabbit?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span></p> - -<p>“No. Jack-rabbit.”</p> - -<p>“What a very odd name. Why do they call it so?”</p> - -<p>The guide did not give the true answer—that because of -its resemblance to a laughable beast of burden; but answered -shortly, as he filled his pipe:</p> - -<p>“Big ear; like—like—like—donkey.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, hum! I perceive. See, it has stopped under that little -bush. There—Oh, my! it is hurt—it is lame! see how it -limps—I will catch it, it is so curious.”</p> - -<p>Kissie was impulsive. Without further preface she -lightly struck the sorrel pony with her riding whip, and on -a swift gallop went after the rabbit, which slowly limped -away.</p> - -<p>The guide, being the only idle one, alone noticed her. He -shook with suppressed laughter, awaiting the result.</p> - -<p>The guide well knew, though Kissie did not, that this -strange rabbit plays some unaccountable pranks, and is the -direct cause of many hearty laughs at a “greenhorn’s” expense. -Seeing a human being, he at once retreats, limping -as if badly hurt. This attracts some one not “well up” in -prairie life, and he pursues it. But let the sequel tell its own -tale.</p> - -<p>As Kissie drew near, the rabbit bounded away as if suddenly -cured of its disability, gaining some distance; then he -limped again—this time dragging one of its hind-legs laboriously.</p> - -<p>His long ears were laid upon his back, which was suddenly -shrunken, as if by a shot in the spine; he pawed hastily -with his fore-feet; and, evidently, was badly hurt. Perhaps -his sudden activity was the result of severe fright, succeeded -by a reaction—so reasoned Kissie.</p> - -<p>“Bunny, Bunny,” she cried, “you are mine—you are my -captive.”</p> - -<p>She was quite close upon him, and was drawing closer at -every spring. The rabbit was almost caught.</p> - -<p>“Count not your chickens before they are hatched,” warns -an old saw. Perhaps it would have been better for Kissie to -have recollected it. But on she went, with no other desire -or thought besides catching the feebly-struggling animal.</p> - -<p>To her surprise she drew no nearer, though the rabbit<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span> -seemed scarce moving, and Dimple was going at a smart gallop. -Surprised and nettled, she plied the whip, and once -again she was on the rabbit’s very heels.</p> - -<p>Once again the rabbit suddenly darted away as lightly as a -deer; but only for a few smart leaps.</p> - -<p>Again he seemed stricken by that odd impediment to his -flight. It was very strange—what could it mean?</p> - -<p>For an hour the strange chase continued, the participants -sustaining their respective positions, while Dimple panted and -lagged, and Kissie alternately wondered and plied the -whip.</p> - -<p>It was a rare place for a protracted chase. For miles and -miles northward (the course they were following) the great, -flat plain stretched away—although level, always hard and -solid.</p> - -<p>The chase still continued, still repeating itself: now a -spurt, and the rabbit is near; Bunny springs once or twice -and the sorrel pony is behind again.</p> - -<p>Once she thought she had heard a shout far behind; but -intent upon overtaking the rabbit, still kept on and looked -not back.</p> - -<p>At last the chase was terminated rather suddenly. Evidently -becoming wearied with his frolics, the rabbit cast a -single look behind, then to Kissie’s utter dismay, darted away -at full speed.</p> - -<p>She had seen frightened antelopes flee like the wind; she -had seen wild mustangs scour away in affright; but never -before had she seen a “jack-rabbit” on his mettle.</p> - -<p>There was a sudden streak before her, a small white speck -bobbing up and down; and when Kissie reined in the pony -she was alone. The rabbit was far away.</p> - -<p>“Duped! miserably deceived!” were her exclamations as -the truth forced itself upon her. “To think that insignificant -creature had so much reason in him. Why, he was only deceiving -me, after all—a mean trick to gratify his wicked little -heart. I might have known it by the way he acted. Well, -I never; and what a laugh there will be when I get back. -Deceived by a paltry rabbit. I can imagine how they will -laugh. Father will never let me hear the last of it—neither -will that horrid Burt Scranton; only Sam will be my champion.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span> -And how that horrid guide will grin, too—I declare it -makes me provoked to think of it.”</p> - -<p>She pouted prettily and gazed where the sly animal had -disappeared. Then she spoke again:</p> - -<p>“Well, it is of no use that I can see—my remaining here. -It is ’most supper-time and I will go back, without my boasted -capture. So, Dimple—tired, pet? We are going back.”</p> - -<p>She turned the pony’s head around and slowly cantered off, -still musing over her defeat, without raising her head.</p> - -<p>She had ridden a mile, perhaps, when it occurred to her -she had better discover the whereabouts of the train. Accordingly -she reined in, and raising her eyes, slowly scanned -the prairie before her.</p> - -<p>It was bare; the train was not in sight.</p> - -<p>Thinking some intervening hillock hid them from her -sight, she rode some distance at right angles; but still no -white-capped wagons did she see.</p> - -<p>She certainly must have become turned round; she must -be bewildered as to the direction she had been pursuing.</p> - -<p>But no. She distinctly remembered seeing her shadow at -her right hand when pursuing the rabbit. She was certain of -that—quite sure. What easier than to ride back, keeping the -shadow to the left of her? She could not then go -astray.</p> - -<p>Christina was quick-witted. She had no sooner found the -wagons were not in sight when the above reflection ran -through her mind. She was impulsive, decided; and knowing -this to be the only means of again finding the wagons, -started back, with her shadow over her left shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Man proposes, God disposes.”</p> - -<p>She soon discovered that. No sooner had she started on -the return track, than, as if to vex and annoy her, a bank of -snow-colored clouds rose rapidly in the south. At the same -moment a southerly breeze came lightly over the plain.</p> - -<p>As said before, Kissie was a girl of keen and quick perceptions. -She saw the bank of clouds arising; she knew if -not breeding a terrible squall, they were at least rolling on to -obscure the sun; then what were her chances of regaining -camp?</p> - -<p>She knew they were few; she knew the necessity of hard<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span> -riding; and, plying the whip again, rode at a gallop with the -shadow still over her left shoulder.</p> - -<p>On the Southern plains, as with the Southern people, -changes come and go with great speed. It was so in the -present case; for before the sorrel pony had cantered a mile -the heavens above were clouded; the sun was obscured.</p> - -<p>A loud, swishing noise accompanied the fleecy clouds, -somewhat in the rear of the advanced vapor. She reined -in.</p> - -<p>She was sufficiently versed in Southern life to feel no alarm -at the approaching wind. Had it been from the north—a -norther—she would have trembled; but, coming from the -south, she felt no alarm; it was nothing but a “field” of -drifting vapor, and in the course of an hour the sky might -be clear again.</p> - -<p>So, turning her pony’s hind quarters to the coming wind, -she braced herself and waited its approach.</p> - -<p>It came with a roar, and striking Dimple, almost took her -off her feet; but the sturdy little beast spread her legs and -stood like a rock. Almost as soon as told it was past, rushing -toward the north, gathering strength every moment: and, beyond -a steady breeze, and a few floating particles in the air, -the atmosphere was quiet.</p> - -<p>Kissie looked at her tiny watch, and sighed: in another hour -the sun would sink below the horizon. What, then, would -become of her if she did not succeed in finding the camp?</p> - -<p>“I must ride somewhere,” she said, growing seriously -alarmed. “If I haven’t the sun to guide me I must steer -without it.”</p> - -<p>So saying, she re-turned her pony’s head and rode away in -a canter.</p> - -<p>She had not gone far when she reined in with a very white -face. Covering her eyes with her hands, she bowed her head, -and her heart sunk.</p> - -<p>“Oh, my God! what shall I do?” she moaned. “What -shall I do? Where shall I go?”</p> - -<p>Well might she feel alarmed! well might she be terror-stricken; -for in her abstraction <i>she had turned round twice</i>.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">ASLEEP IN THE LAND OF SILENCE.</p> - -<p>“Turned round twice!” ejaculates the reader. “Why -should she be terrified at such a slight thing?”</p> - -<p>For a very good reason, for example: blindfold a person -and after doing so turn him twice in his tracks. He then -will be unable to tell with any degree of certainty to which -point of the compass he is facing. So it was with Kissie. -Though not blindfolded, she might as well have been, and -might as well have turned round fifty times as twice. The -flat plain was everywhere the same monotonous expanse, nowhere -showing any landmarks, by the slightest depression or -elevation.</p> - -<p>No wonder she was frightened, even terrified. Had she -been in a settled country, she would only have experienced -vexation and discontent at being forced to spend the night on -the prairie; but here she was, far from any settlement, lost -from her companions, and in a hostile Indian country. She -knew the latter to be fierce and bloodthirsty, and was aware -they would not scruple to commit any outrage their cunning -brains might suggest. She knew they were predatory and -gregarious, often rambling in bands of from a dozen to fifty -or a hundred. She knew also they were <i>the</i> fiends of the -plains—either Comanches or Apaches, dreaded alike by quiet -<i>ranchero</i> and courageous hunter.</p> - -<p>Should she meet with them, what would be her fate—what -her doom? What—</p> - -<p>At this point in her reflections Dimple pawed impatiently, -and tossing her head, snuffed the air; she was evidently fatigued -and hungry and was impatient at being kept at a standstill.</p> - -<p>“Quiet, Dimple! you are tired, pet; you have had a hard -gallop after a day’s march. Dear, dear me; that I had never -left them.”</p> - -<p>But the pony was not very much fatigued. She was a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span> -pure mustang, but recently captured and tamed, and could -have galloped the entire day without faltering.</p> - -<p>“Oh, where shall I go—what shall I do? Oh, heaven! I -would I had never left them. Be quiet, I say, Dimple? what -do you mean?”</p> - -<p>The pony was stamping violently, and with tossing head -was staring over the plain. Mechanically Kissie followed his -gaze.</p> - -<p>Away on the distant horizon (the eastern one, though she -did not know it) she saw a solitary speck, moving slowly. It -was that which had caused the mustang’s alarm. It had evidently -been in sight for some time, for now she remembered -the pony had been restless for considerable time. It was -some animal, perhaps a solitary horseman. Indeed, by straining -her eyes, she was almost certain it was the latter, as she -thought she could distinguish the necessary outlines of a -mounted man.</p> - -<p>The object was a man, and mounted on a black powerful -horse. It was Pedro Felipe.</p> - -<p>Had she known it was a white man, had she any reason to -suppose he was not an enemy, she would have at once -spurred toward him; but, knowing that numerous Indians -were at all times scouring the plains, she desired rather to -give him a wide berth, fearing he was one of that dreaded -race.</p> - -<p>She raised her whip, and striking the mustang sharply, was -riding away when a new object appeared on the horizon, opposite -the Mexican. Object? rather a number of blots, moving -toward her. This she could tell as they appeared stationary -while they rose and fell, like a galloping horse.</p> - -<p>She had seen such objects before, and knew they were galloping -animals. Knowing that scarcely any animals frequented -the plain, from its sterility, she readily became aware -that they were a band of mounted men.</p> - -<p>She felt her heart leap joyously; it was her friends. They -had doubtless become alarmed at her prolonged absence, and -had started in search of her. Filled with joy at the thought, -she pressed on, her fears at rest. Just then she looked for -the far-distant, lone rider—he was not in sight; he had vanished.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span></p> - -<p>Suddenly she stopped the mustang, and a deadly pallor -overspread her countenance, a wild fear arose within her. -She had counted thirteen distinct objects moving toward her.</p> - -<p>Her father’s party numbered seven—the one approaching -numbered thirteen; it could not be her friends—it could not.</p> - -<p>Who were they? Surely they were mounted men, surely -they were not her friends; who could they be? They were -coming, miles away, directly toward her.</p> - -<p>The truth flashed upon her, and her heart sunk like lead. -Sitting quietly in her saddle, she stared at them, drawing -nearer every minute. Then she became aroused. Wheeling -suddenly she plied the whip, and the wiry mustang, now somewhat -refreshed, sprung away at a long, steady gallop, and the -blots behind scattered, collected again, then rose and fell -faster and shorter. The chase had commenced—she was pursued -by Indians.</p> - -<p>It was now sunset, as nearly as she could judge, and the -cloudy sky overhead promised a brief, dark twilight, to be -succeeded by a dark, murky night. The rainy season was -now drawing near, and for aught she knew the clouds above -might be the “advance-guard.” This, at least, was in her -favor.</p> - -<p>Kissie was like her father—impulsive but cool. Looking -back, she calculated the distance between her and the flying -savages. It was nearly four miles. She looked at the sky -and calculated that darkness would fall in less than an hour.</p> - -<p>“They will have to ride like the wind to overtake Dimple -in an hour,” she said, with a small degree of hope. “Till -then, Dimple, fly; in an hour we may be safe for the present.”</p> - -<p>The mustang, as if cognizant of the importance of speed, -tossed his plucky head, then bending it down, “reached” like -a quarter-horse; his sensitive nose had warned him of the -proximity of his former hated foe—the red-man. Running -without the incentive of whip or spur, he stretched away; and -behind came a dozen and one Apaches, grim and resolved; -they were on the war-trail.</p> - -<p>At that hour a flock of vultures wheeling above, high in -the zenith, looked down upon a strange scene—at least for -that usually deserted plain. Directly beneath were a flying<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span> -maiden and galloping Indians—the latter in hot pursuit of -the former; both mounted on fleet horses, both riding at full -speed.</p> - -<p>A few miles to the west a solitary horseman was pursuing -his way northward, at a slow gallop. He was a Mexican—Pedro -Felipe. At the rate, and in the direction the maiden -was riding, it would not be long ere she would meet him—she -riding north-westerly. Directly south and nearly fifteen miles -behind Pedro, rode a dark, ugly-looking man on a black horse; -and though the Mexican had left no visible trail, this mysterious -rider was following him, directly in his very tracks. -Riders on the savage-infested, weird plains generally look -sharply in every direction to avoid their dreaded foes; they -generally, if alone, keep close to timbered tracts; but this -rider never gazed to the right, left, or behind him—only keeping -his gaze fixed toward the Land of Silence.</p> - -<p>In a south-easterly direction from him was a train encamped -on the Gila, for the night. All the work had been -finished. The horses were lariated at hand; the rude kettle -was boiling merrily; the cook was swearing and grumbling, -as usual; but all was not quiet.</p> - -<p>Ever and anon one of the several men lying lazily about -would rise, and shading his eyes, peer toward the north-east, -as if in search of something.</p> - -<p>He was invariably unsuccessful; and, after anxiously gazing -for several minutes, would return, and talk in low tones -to his companions.</p> - -<p>Then several would start up together and peer over the -north-western plain; then, muttering anxiously, would return -and lie down again, talking earnestly; something was wrong.</p> - -<p>Even the cook, who was generally too hard at work, tired -and surly to pay attention to any thing outside of his “Dutch-oven,” -would now and then pause and look anxiously toward -the north-west; it was plain something was wrong.</p> - -<p>It was twilight on the vast plain, north of the Gila. Now -the two principal parties had visibly changed their positions. -The Indians were quite near, having gained two miles in light—a -vast gain; they must have ridden like the wind, or the -sorrel mustang must have lagged.</p> - -<p>The last was the case. From some hidden reason Dimple<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span> -had lost his swift run, and was going at a faltering canter—he -was unaccountably fatigued or injured. She could hear -faintly the hideous yells behind—a mile and a half distant.</p> - -<p>At this, with her last hope giving way, she plied the whip.</p> - -<p>The mustang obeyed, and for a few lengths galloped -briskly, but soon collapsed, and feebly cantered on. She felt -terrified at the thought of captivity and prayed for rescue.</p> - -<p>It came. The twilight was almost over, then pitchy darkness -would shield her from her red enemies. The moon rose -about three hours after sundown—she could easily elude them -until that time; then, perhaps, she would be safe.</p> - -<p>Another circumstance, far more potent, was in her favor. -The soil of the plain, baked hard after months of drought, -left no impression of the mustang’s hoof, consequently she -could not be traced by the hoof-marks. It was not probable, -after having eluded them, that in this wide, vast plain they -could chance upon her again. So, if she succeeded in escaping, -for the present she was in comparative safety.</p> - -<p>She succeeded. The darkness swiftly gathered down over -the plain; she lost sight of her pursuers, though still hearing -their hideous yells; and they, in turn, lost sight of her.</p> - -<p>Fifteen minutes later, on pausing and waiting a few moments, -Kissie heard them gallop by in the darkness, not ten -rods away. Then she turned and rode for an hour in an opposite -direction; for the present she was safe.</p> - -<p>Alighting, she left Dimple to graze at will on the scanty -herbage; and, conscious the timid mustang would awaken her -by stamping, should danger come, lay down, and, completely -worn out, fell into a light, troubled sleep.</p> - -<p>The chase had not amounted to much—the odds, large -ones, being in her favor; but while she had escaped from -them, she had ridden many miles further from her friends.</p> - -<p>Alone in the desert, guarded by the wary, timid pony, she -slept; and the night was dark and gloomy in the Land of -Silence—for she was within its ghostly border.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">CIMARRON JACK.</p> - -<p>As the first gray streaks of dawn slanted across the eastern -horizon, the little camp on the Gila was astir, and the -members were bustling about. Anxious faces they were; -their movements were hurried and nervous; and the general -aspect of the camp was one of alarm and anxiety.</p> - -<p>There is evidently a great commotion in camp; ever and -anon the men scan the surrounding horizon; and one and all -wear the same anxious look; what is the matter?</p> - -<p>The question is answered almost as soon as asked, as a cry -arises from one of the watchers. The others start to their -feet (they are at present bolting a hasty breakfast) and following -their companion’s gaze see a horseman coming along the -river bank. He is quite near, having been coming under the -bank, and consequently unseen by them.</p> - -<p>“Simpson! the guide!” shout one or two voices; then two -others add, with a groan, “and alone.”</p> - -<p>“And alone!” cry the rest, gloomily.</p> - -<p>The guide was coming slowly, his mustang lagging with -drooping head, as if just freed from a hard, long ride. The -guide, too, though generally reserved, was moody, and wore a -sort of apologetic, shame-faced air.</p> - -<p>Joel Wheeler and young Carpenter sprung to meet him.</p> - -<p>“Have you seen her?” asked Mr. Wheeler, though knowing -the question was a superfluous one. The guide shook his -head.</p> - -<p>“Nor any trace of her?” hastily added Carpenter. Simpson -slowly shook his head again.</p> - -<p>“Not at all—no sign?”</p> - -<p>“Nary mark, sign, trail, trace—nary nuthin’. Blast the -luck!” he added, in sudden ire; “I’ve done rode over every -squar’ inch of this kentry sence last night, fur miles around. -She ain’t nowhar ’round hyar, that’s sartain shure.”</p> - -<p>It was only too evident the guide spoke truthfully. His<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span> -fatigued, travel-worn steed, panting deeply, and his own wearied -air, showed he had ridden far and swiftly.</p> - -<p>“Yer see’d no one, then?” asked Burt Scranton.</p> - -<p>“Who sed I never see’d no one?” hastily retorted Simpson.</p> - -<p>“You did.”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t!”</p> - -<p>“What did you say, then?”</p> - -<p>“Thet I hedn’t see’d the lady—and I hevn’t.”</p> - -<p>“You have seen some one, then?” asked Carpenter.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I hev.”</p> - -<p>“Whom?”</p> - -<p>The guide brought his fist down on his knees:</p> - -<p>“A sperrit.”</p> - -<p>“A spirit? Nonsense! Where?”</p> - -<p>“Up hyar, a piece—in a kentry called the Land of Silence.”</p> - -<p>“Ah! the Land of Silence,” and Burt slowly shook his -head. “I’ve heerd on that place.”</p> - -<p>The Canadians looked incredulous and grinned. Seeing -them in the act, the guide, nettled, burst out:</p> - -<p>“Yes, and yer may jist bet yer hides I don’t want ter see it -ag’in, now. By thunder! ef I warn’t skeered I never was, -and every one of ye’s heerd of Simpson, the guide—every one -of ye know ’t I ain’t no coward, neither.”</p> - -<p>“What did it look like?” asked Kit Duncan.</p> - -<p>The guide slowly dismounted, and flinging his arm over his -saddle, said:</p> - -<p>“It war the ghost of the Trailer.”</p> - -<p>“The Trailer!” echoed Burt.</p> - -<p>“Yes, the Trailer. Jest the same as he allus war, in his -peaked hat and black feather, jest the same as ever he war, -armed ter kill, he rode his old black hoss right by me, not ten -feet off. Gee-whittaker! I ked hev touched him.”</p> - -<p>“Did he speak?” asked Louis Robidoux, in a quizzical -manner.</p> - -<p>“Thet’s the wust of it. When he got clos’t ter me, he -turned his face too-ward me. Gee-crymini! how white his -face war.”</p> - -<p>“What did he say?”</p> - -<p>“‘You air ridin’ late, Tim Simpson.’”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span></p> - -<p>“Is that all?”</p> - -<p>“Gee-whiz! ain’t thet enough?”</p> - -<p>“Why didn’t you shoot him?”</p> - -<p>“I war too skeered—I know’d ’twar no mortal man.”</p> - -<p>“How did you know?”</p> - -<p>“Cuss yer! a woman’s nuthin’ ter yer on the ke-westion. -How did I know? Wal, the Trailer’s got a grudge ag’in’ me, -an’ ef he’d been a man don’t yer see he’d ’a’ plugged me afore -I see’d him? He war a fee-rocious man, thet Trailer, and ef -he war alive when I met him, he’d ’a’ sure plugged me. He -didn’t, and thet shows he’s dead. Durn it! I <i>know</i> he’s dead; -Pedro Felipe killed him in the Land of Silence, over a year -ago. I see’d his skeleton onc’t.”</p> - -<p>“Halloa!” exclaimed Burt, suddenly. “Look thar!” and -he pointed down the river. All eyes followed the direction.</p> - -<p>A man mounted on a trim bay horse was seen advancing -at a long, swinging lope, quite near. He had drawn close -during the dialogue, unnoticed, and was coming boldly on, as -if he feared no danger. Simpson immediately recognized him.</p> - -<p>“Cimarron Jack!” he cried. “Gee-menentli! hooray!”</p> - -<p>The rider stopped and drew a revolver.</p> - -<p>“Who is there?” he demanded, in a rich, musical voice, -with a purity of accent rarely seen on the southern plains.</p> - -<p>“Tim Simpson, the guide!”</p> - -<p>“Is that so? Hurrah! I’m Cimarron Jack, the tiger, and -I’m a thorough-bred from Tartary, I tell <i>you</i>.”</p> - -<p>Belting his revolver, he struck spurs to his splendid bay, -and the next moment was heartily shaking Simpson by the -hand, wrenching it violently.</p> - -<p>“I’m an elephant, <i>I</i> am!” he shouted, in stentorian tones, -addressing the entire party. “I’m a Feejee dancing-master, -and where’s the man that’ll say ‘boo’ to this chap? I’m the -fellow who killed cock-robin!”</p> - -<p>“You are jest in time, Jack,” said the guide. “We want -yer ter help us.”</p> - -<p>Nowhere in America do men come so quickly “to the -point,” as on the vast South-western plains. Meet a friend -you have not seen for years—he is in trouble, mayhap. You -have scarcely time to greet him before he informs you of his -embarrassment, and requests your immediate assistance. You<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span> -instantly, if you are a “plainsman,” grant his request—it is -often policy to do so.</p> - -<p>Cimarron Jack was a noted ranger and inexplicable man. -While his whole conversation was a series of boastings and -vaunts, while a more conceited man perhaps never breathed, -he had one trait which was the very opposite, paradoxical as -it may appear—he believed that others were as keen and -shrewd as himself, and, when on the war-path, believed his -enemy as bold and crafty as himself—the predominating trait -of the shrewdest detectives in the world.</p> - -<p>To describe him, his dress and manner, were a long and hard -task. Closely-knit, six feet and three inches in hight, with -the arm of a blacksmith, and the leg of a cassowary, he was a -formidable enemy when aroused, and he was a man of iron -nerve. Withal, he was at times as tender as a woman, and -was always upright and honest.</p> - -<p>Imagine a giant on a splendid bay stallion, with weapons -of all sorts, sizes and nationalities slung about him; with red, -green, blue, gray—in short, every color—feathers twisted into -his clothing, long boots, painted in different colors—looking -like an insane person—imagine this, and you are distantly -acquainted with Cimarron Jack, the ranger, hunter and Indian-fighter.</p> - -<p>“What do you want with the king-pin of all rifle-shots? -Show me a star, and I’ll knock the twinkle out of it with a -Number One buckshot.”</p> - -<p>The party stared at him aghast. Never before had they -seen such a fantastical braggadocio. Had they never before -heard of him they would have deemed him a raving maniac, -and would have given him a wide berth. But every one who -was in that country at that time—184—, had heard of the far-famed -Cimarron Jack.</p> - -<p>“What do you want with the people’s favorite?” he demanded. -“Come—the court is impatient.”</p> - -<p>Joel Wheeler stepped forward and said: “Sir, we are—”</p> - -<p>“Don’t ‘sir’ me!” interrupted the ranger. “I’m Cimarron -Jack, and I’m the cock of the walk.”</p> - -<p>“Well then, Cimarron Jack, my daughter strayed away -last night and we fear she is lost—indeed, we are positive -she is. The country is infested with Indians—”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span></p> - -<p>“You can’t tell me any thing about Indians, for my education -in that direction is finished. Hurrah! three genuine -cheers and a tiger for the man that can’t be beat!”</p> - -<p>Snatching his <i>sombrero</i> from his head, he swung it aloft, -cheering himself lustily. Then he replaced the hat and listened -gravely.</p> - -<p>“It is only too evident that Christina is lost. Cognizant -that the country is swarming with hostile Apaches and Comanches, -we are very much alarmed. You are a noted scout -and tracker—I’ve frequently heard of you; and if you will -lend us your assistance in searching for her, I will cheerfully -pay any price you may ask.”</p> - -<p>“Count me in—just score the grizzly-tamer on the rolls. -But stop!” he added, his face becoming grave, and addressing -Simpson. “Is the beauteous maid fair to look upon?”</p> - -<p>“Ef thar ever was an angel on airth, she’s the one,” emphatically -pronounced the guide.</p> - -<p>“Then hurrah! blood raw, blood raw! cut your palate out -and eat it—you are just shouting I will. I’m a thorough-bred, -sired by Colossus.”</p> - -<p>“Are you willing to go, then?” demanded Carpenter.</p> - -<p>“You’re talking I am.”</p> - -<p>“Well, just tell the men to hitch up the horses, Burt.”</p> - -<p>Scranton turned to execute the order, and Mr. Wheeler -called a consultation of the principal men, Cimarron Jack, -Carpenter and Simpson, to decide upon the most feasible plan -for recovering Kissie. He was much alarmed. Although -for years accustomed to Kissie’s vagaries and erratic wanderings, -he was now alarmed in good earnest. She had often -ridden away from the train on some expedition, but she had -always returned punctually. But now they were in a country -overrun with hostile, ferocious Indians, who were capable -of any fiendish deed, and quite unscrupulous enough to execute -it.</p> - -<p>But there were other dangers near by, if not quite as potent. -Here in this hot, vast plain water was scarce, though -the country was “cut up” by creeks. These, however, were -entirely dry nine months in the year, and this season was uncommonly -dry. Then, too, savage and large beasts roamed -the plain. The large gray wolf hunted in packs, ready when<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span> -hungry to follow and run down a human being; the grizzly -often came down from his cave in the mountains to prey upon -the animals in the plain; and many other animals, quite -as ferocious and cunning, roamed the illimitable waste.</p> - -<p>Should she avoid all these dangers; should she elude the -fierce Apache, the gray wolf and grizzly bear; should she be -fortunate enough to discover water, a thing scarcely possible, -there was another danger to be dreaded—hunger.</p> - -<p>She was not armed, and procuring food on the barren plain, -without the necessary weapons, was impossible. She could -procure no food from the herbage—it was scant, dry and -short. She was undoubtedly in a desperate predicament.</p> - -<p>Mr. Wheeler revolved these several contingencies in his -mind, and grew sad and moody. Carpenter noticed his dejection, -and though anxious and sad himself, endeavored to -cheer him.</p> - -<p>“Come, cheer up,” he said, laying his hand upon his shoulder. -“The case may not be so desperate after all. While -there is life there is hope, you know.”</p> - -<p>“Sam, I know you can sympathize with me—you are the -only one who can appreciate my agony, for it is positive -agony. To think of the dear child, heaven knows where, -suffering and heart-sick, almost distracts me. Sam, I fear the -worst.”</p> - -<p>“Come, sir, come; you must not talk like that. She only -rode away after a rabbit—she, mayhap, has become confused, -perhaps lost. But the sorrel mustang is sagacious, and doubtless -ere this is scenting back toward us. I know he will come -back if she will give him his head.”</p> - -<p>“A thing she will not think of doing,” replied Mr. Wheeler. -“If she is lost, she is lost, indeed—there is no end to this vast -plain.”</p> - -<p>“But she must have left a trail, and with two such famous -men as Cimarron Jack and Simpson, we can surely trail her. -Those two men are prodigies, sir—they are famous even -among their fellow-countrymen. Cheer up, sir—see, they are -ready to start. Shall I saddle your horse, sir?”</p> - -<p>“If you will, Sam. I am so perplexed I am fit for nothing.”</p> - -<p>“I will do it, sir. Take my word for it, sir, we will soon -find her.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span></p> - -<p>“God grant it!” was the fervent reply.</p> - -<p>The result of the council was this: the guide, Cimarron -Jack, Mr. Wheeler, and Sam, were to ride toward the north-west, -if possible on Kissie’s trail. Burt Scranton and the -teamster would follow with the wagons. The trailing party -would proceed moderately, while the wagons would move at -a much faster rate than usual to keep in sight. This was -done to avoid being separated by Indians, should they meet -with any. This arrangement (Cimarron Jack’s suggestion) -afterward proved a wise one. But more anon.</p> - -<p>“Are you ready?” said Jack, vaulting into his saddle. -“If you are, follow the man who can thrash his weight in -wild-cats with a ton of grizzlies thrown in too to make the -skirmish interesting.”</p> - -<p>“Yer ain’t quit yer bragging yet, I see,” remarked the -guide.</p> - -<p>“Bragging! <i>me</i> brag? d’ye mean it? whiz! I’ll cut -your palate out and eat it—yes, I will, you know that yourself. -Blood raw, blood raw! I’m the man that never says -‘boo’ to a lame chicken.”</p> - -<p>“Hyar’s her trail,” observed the guide.</p> - -<p>Jack vaulted backward to the ground, examined it, swore -an oath or two, lit his pipe, boasted a little, then remounted -and rode off on the faint, very dim trail, with the wagons -rumbling after; the search had commenced.</p> - -<p>The guide ever and anon raised his head and peered off -into the northern, purple-tinted distance, as if half afraid of -seeing some disagreeable object. However, he held his peace -and relapsed into his usual, but for some time, abandoned taciturnity. -Must the truth be spoken? The guide was -alarmed.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">A DEAD MAN’S GHOST.</p> - -<p>On the day after Pedro left the Gila he arrived at the old -robber hillock. As he rode up to it, he mechanically looked -for a skeleton he expected to see there—the skeleton of the -Trailer. To his surprise not a bone of it was there, where -he left the body.</p> - -<p>Could the Trailer have come to life? impossible—he was -killed instantly. Pedro had shot him from behind, the ball -entering his back and penetrating to his heart. No—it could -not be possible.</p> - -<p>But the skeleton—where was it? of course the body had -been devoured by carnivorous animals—as a matter of course -it had been; but animals never swallow the bones—they -should be there still.</p> - -<p>Pedro was perplexed and looked off over the plain, as if -for an answer. He got none. Everywhere, in every direction, -it was the same monotonous expanse—always yellow, -dry and quiet, always spectral and forbidding; he was in -the heart of the Land of Silence.</p> - -<p>“The skeleton—where in the world can it be?” he muttered, -glancing about. “Curse it, I begin to feel awkward -and uneasy already. This is a cursed quiet place—this -plain; and such a name as it has, too; just the place for -spirits to roam about in. I am beginning to believe they have -tampered with the Trailer’s bones—I do, indeed. Ha! what’s -that?”</p> - -<p>He had espied something white at a distance away—something -which looked dry and bleached, like bones long exposed -to the elements. He rode slowly toward it; it (or they) -was a bunch of bones clustered together, as if thrown hastily -in a pile.</p> - -<p>He took them one by one in his hands and narrowly examined -them. They were human, he could tell—might they -not be the Trailer’s? They were much too small, he thought,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span> -still one is deceived ofttimes by appearances. The Trailer had -been a large man—a giant; these bones were rather small.</p> - -<p>Still he knew he had not seen them when here a year ago—they -had not been there then. These bones were about a -year old; that is, exposed to the elements. A year ago he -had killed the Trailer, the last robber on the spot—the bones -must be his.</p> - -<p>“They are the Trailer’s—they must be,” he said, and -idly kicking them, mounted and rode back to the hill or -mound.</p> - -<p>To describe this singular place would be a long task, so we -will skim briefly over it. About forty feet long by twenty in -hight, it was a mere shell—probably a hiding-place contrived -centuries ago. It was entered in this manner by Pedro.</p> - -<p>Scattered over the surface of the knoll were a large number -of flat stones. Lifting one of the largest of these, he hurled -it against one imbedded in the ground, dented in the form of -a cross. The ground suddenly gave way and disclosed an -opening sufficient to admit a horse.</p> - -<p>It was a plank-trap; cunningly covered with earth, its existence -would never have been suspected by the uninitiated. -It was hung on stout leathern hinges fastened to two upright -posts.</p> - -<p>The hollow hill was divided into two chambers, one within -the other. The first was dark and was only lighted by the -opening of the door. The floor was the ground, the walls -the hillside, the ceiling the summit. The only furniture it -contained was a huge water-bucket, a rusty gun or two, -several tattered blankets, and a resinous, partially-consumed -torch.</p> - -<p>Pedro noticed this torch, and his eyes sparkled.</p> - -<p>“Just where I left it a year ago—in this chink. Now I -am certain I was the last one here—now am I certain of -finding the hidden treasure.”</p> - -<p>He lighted the torch, and after looking out into the plain, -started toward the inner chamber. But suddenly stopping, he -went back to the entrance.</p> - -<p>“I might as well bring the horse inside now,” he said. -“Perhaps I may be obliged to spend a week here. He will -be out of sight, too.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span></p> - -<p>Going out he brought in the horse, and then tightly closed -the entrance. Then his eyes fell on the water-vessel.</p> - -<p>“I wish I had some water,” he said; “and no doubt the -horse thinks the same. But there is a stream ten miles north—Alkali -Creek. The water is not very good, but it is wet. I -will go after I’ve searched awhile.”</p> - -<p>Unsaddling the horse, and leaving him to roam at will -about the chamber, he again took up the torch and went to -the entrance of the inner one.</p> - -<p>This was a mere slit in the hillside, barely large enough -for him to enter. However, his pliant body enabled him -to glide through, and standing in the entrance, he threw the -light over the apartment.</p> - -<p>It was empty, just as he had expected. It was unchanged, -too—further evidence that there had been no one there since -he had left. His spirits rose at every step, and his way was -becoming certain.</p> - -<p>This chamber was somewhat larger than the other, and -was lighter, the chinks above being larger. It was also -scantily furnished, and in the same manner as the first.</p> - -<p>A pile of blankets lay in one corner, and were evidently -long unused. A single gun stood by them—a rifle. Otherwise -the room was empty.</p> - -<p>Pedro, after satisfying himself as to other occupants, with -his habitual energy began at once to work. Drawing his revolver, -he hastily uncapped the tubes, then, lighted by his -torch, commenced to sound the wall, the ceiling, the floor—in -fact, everything which might conceal the treasure he knew -was there.</p> - -<p>Outside the sun still shone upon the bare plain, blinding -with its heat the few small animals which stole about, the -only moving objects on the plain.</p> - -<p>The <i>only</i> moving objects? Not so; there was another -one—a man riding a black horse. Several miles away from -the hillock, he was coming, at a slow walk, from the south; -going north and to the hillock.</p> - -<p>An hour passed. Pedro was working steadily inside, at -intervals muttering disjointed sentences. The solitary rider -drew near, and halted close to the hillock.</p> - -<p>He was dressed in a tight-fitting suit of buck-skin, and in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span> -his black, conical hat, a black plume drooped. Armed to the -teeth, he was a desperate-appearing person. His face, bearing -the marks of license to strong and evil passions, was pale in -the extreme—even ghastly.</p> - -<p>He halted before the entrance, and just then Pedro exclaimed -below—he was excited about something. Then he -rode round to the opposite side of the hillock, and drawing -up, facing it, sat like a statue on his black horse.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A fierce cry came from the cavern—a cry of wild delight. -This was followed by a series of disjointed exclamations, expressive -of the wildest joy. Then came hurried tramping -to and fro—then dead silence. Outside the rider still sat on -his sable steed, and remained grim and quiet, never changing -a muscle. All was quiet in the Land of Silence.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was toward the middle of the afternoon when Pedro -burst out of the entrance gesticulating extravagantly, and -fairly shouting under the influence of some strong emotion. -In his hand he held his horse-blanket, tied into a rude bag; -it was loaded with something that chinked musically.</p> - -<p>“Found! found!” he cried. “What fortune—what extraordinary -luck! Only three hours’ searching, too. Oh, -holy mother! what shall I do with all this wealth? Pedro, -Pedro Felipe, you are as rich as the richest. Blessed be all -the saints! what fortune, what fortune!”</p> - -<p>This grave, demure man of forty, fairly danced in excitement, -and shook the bag violently.</p> - -<p>Chink, chink! a musical rattle that. More than one man -has gone crazy over less. Huzzah! huzzah! the treasure is -found.</p> - -<p>He has feasted his eyes on it before; but, wild with excitement, -can not keep his eyes off from it. In his agitation -he had forgotten his horse, and with the bag on his shoulder, -had been starting on foot for Mexico. But now he sunk on -his knees, and opening the blanket-bag, shook it.</p> - -<p>Heavens! what a sight. Rolling out in a sparkling cascade -came coin, gold and silver, ornaments of the same metals, -costly watches, splendid rings, and guards, and above all, -gleaming, sparkling diamonds. Diamonds set in magnificent<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span> -rings; diamonds garnishing costly brooches; diamonds cut -and rough, large and tiny; what a fortune, what beautiful, -bewitching riches was there.</p> - -<p>Spread out on the ground, Pedro gazed fascinated upon -his precious treasure, and well he might. Here a deep amethyst -glimmered and shone, hob-nobbing, as it were, with a -brilliant diamond; yonder a sparkling seal clung closely with -a shining watch guard. Diamonds were sprinkled about pell-mell -among all sorts and sizes of costly jewels, expensive -watches, and piles of golden and silver coin of large denominations; -here a solitary ruby flashed and shimmered; but, -above all, outstripping all, was a huge topaz, mocking the sun -by its deep, transparent yellow tint; it was a gem among -gems.</p> - -<p>Pedro had not formed any idea of the value of his treasure—his -brain was so demented he could not have counted twenty -correctly. But he saw the coins were all among the highest -ever sent from the mint, and nearly all gold; but he had not -the slightest idea of the value of the jewels—he only knew -he was immensely rich.</p> - -<p>“Ah, my yellow, shining, pretty pets!” he exclaimed, filling -the bag again. “My darlings! you have made me the -richest man in the wide world. Brave, yellow, sparkling -boys!”</p> - -<p>A horse stamped close by. He listened intently.</p> - -<p>Another stamp and a shrill neigh from a strange horse. -Pedro turned sick, his brain reeled, and a deadly nausea seized -him.</p> - -<p>Suddenly recovering, he threw the bag into the entrance, -and drew his jeweled dagger—his rifle was inside.</p> - -<p>“Who’s there?” he hoarsely said, peering off into the plain. -“Speak! man or ghost! who is near—who is there?”</p> - -<p>Nothing—no one; the plain is bare. All is quiet in the -Land of Silence.</p> - -<p>“Murder! help! who’s there? Oh, heaven, my gold!”</p> - -<p>He saw the plain was bare, and that he was alone. He -drew a breath of relief—might he not have been deceived?</p> - -<p>Perhaps. He prayed so. But stay—the hillock hid a part -of the plain from view. He would ascend it and discover -evil if it was at hand.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span></p> - -<p>With a hoarse cry he brandished his dagger, and with two -gigantic strides stood on the summit.</p> - -<p>But only for a moment, he stood there with a pale, terrified -face, staring eye and shaking limbs. Then reeling, with a -loud cry he rushed down into the cave and closed the entrance, -terrified almost beyond his senses.</p> - -<p>What was the matter—what had happened? Enough. -There, on his old black horse, under his plumed black hat, sat -<i>the ghost of the Trailer</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">KISSIE FINDS A FRIEND.</p> - -<p>Pedro sat behind the closed entrance, lowering savagely -through the glimmering chinks, and almost beside himself -with astonishment, vague fear, and wonder. He had recovered -his gun and was clutching it, ready to fire at the smallest -rustle above; his precious treasure formed a costly seat, on -which he squatted; afraid of the cave, afraid of the darkness, -the ghost, his own horse, and even of himself.</p> - -<p>Do not infer from this that Pedro was a coward. On the -contrary, he was brave—a bolder man never drew breath. -He was far-famed for his bravery. But, “put yourself in his -place,” and cease to wonder at his alarm.</p> - -<p>An hour passed, during which he fancied he heard a slight -noise overhead. But if there was one, it was slight, scarcely -discernible. He began to regain his habitual equanimity, and -to try and laugh down his fears. But the latter was no easy -task. To see the perfect form of a man he had shot through -the heart a year ago—to see him mounted on the same steed -he had dropped him from—to see his wicked, gleaming eye -fixed upon him in deadly, unrelenting hate—and above all, -to meet him at <i>this</i> place, in the country noted for its specters, -was enough, as he strongly declared, “to scare the Old -Nick out of ten years’ wickedness.”</p> - -<p>Plucking up courage, he advanced to open the trap and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span> -peer out. Just then he heard a footfall above—he drew -back again, seized with fear.</p> - -<p>The footfall became two, then three, then grew into a succession -of patters. He knew the sound—it was a horse. He -did not stop to conjecture—he did not hesitate or draw a -timid breath; but angry at himself for being alarmed, boldly -threw open the trap, and with ready rifle, peered out.</p> - -<p>His eyes fell upon a fair young girl coming directly toward -him on a sorrel mustang, the latter apparently wandering aimlessly -at an easy amble. Her eyes were fixed on the distant -plain beyond the hillock, and were wandering, as if she saw -nothing to attract her attention.</p> - -<p>“It is strange she does not see it!” observed Pedro—“very -strange. But stay! the hillock is higher than its head, and -so she does not perceive it. But she will—she will.”</p> - -<p>But she did not, and came on directly toward the entrance. -Suddenly, when quite close, the mustang snorted, tossed her -head, and shied away from something in front of her.</p> - -<p>“Ah!” he muttered, “then it was no optical illusion—it -is, in truth, a spirit.”</p> - -<p>But he was deceived. If the mustang saw the form behind -the hill, the lady did not, and being higher than her -steed had a better opportunity for discovering it.</p> - -<p>“Be quiet, Dimple!” commanded the lady. “It is only -some large burrow—it is nothing to alarm you. Be quiet, I -say!”</p> - -<p>Pedro stared. From where she was now (the mustang having -darted to a point which allowed a full view of the hillock) -she could have easily seen the form had he been there. -But she did not, and of course he was not in sight—the pony -was alarmed at the yawning entrance, which showed gloomily -against the yellow hillock.</p> - -<p>Pedro’s fears were over. Wondering why a lady—a white -and beautiful American lady—should be alone on this wild, -sterile plain, he resolved to make himself known. Perhaps -she was in distress—mayhap she had just escaped from captivity -and needed assistance.</p> - -<p>Gallantry was one of his predominating traits.</p> - -<p>Casting aside his weapons, and wearing an easy, good-natured -air, which became him, he stepped carelessly out in full<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span> -view. Lifting his sombrero, he said, with an assuring -smile:</p> - -<p>“Senorita, your servant.”</p> - -<p>Snort! The mustang was twenty yards away in five seconds, -and the lady, unseated, was on the ground, wildly -alarmed, but not injured; the timid mustang had thrown her -in its sudden fright.</p> - -<p>She arose and fled toward her mustang, but the treacherous -animal galloped away, and halting a hundred yards distant, -tossed her head and regarded the strange man wildly. Seeing -she could not recover her steed in her present state of -mind, she turned to Pedro, doubting and fearing him. He -saw she mistrusted him, and again raising his sombrero, again -bowed low.</p> - -<p>“Fear not, senorita—fear not; I am a friend.”</p> - -<p>“A friend? Who are you?”</p> - -<p>“Pedro Felipe, senorita. Do you need assistance?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, sir; I am in great trouble. I am lost from my -friends. I was chased by Indians last night. I am very -hungry and tired; I have not tasted food since yesterday at -noon.”</p> - -<p>Pedro, eying her admiringly, noticed her sweet face was -pale and worn. Ever ready to assist a fellow-creature, he -started toward the entrance.</p> - -<p>“Enter, senorita, enter. But stay,” he added, in a low -tone; “do you see any thing on the other side of the -hill?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir—nothing. No one is visible.”</p> - -<p>“It is well. Senorita, if you will come in here you will -find food, such as it is. There are blankets, also, if you need -rest.”</p> - -<p>But she hung back. She feared to enter that strange, -yawning hole with this man, even if he did look and act like -an honest man.</p> - -<p>“My pony, Dimple,” she said, hesitatingly. “I am afraid -she will go astray.”</p> - -<p>“Never fear, senorita—I will bring her back to you, if she -does.”</p> - -<p>“But—but—”</p> - -<p>“Ah I perceive, senorita—you wrong me. I have been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span> -too long a companion and servant of my kind master in Mexico—Senor -Martinez—to harm a lady. I—”</p> - -<p>“Why! are you the Pedro that lives at that grand old -place? Why, our farm was quite close to it! My father is -Mr. Wheeler.”</p> - -<p>“Ah! then I am fortunate in having an opportunity to -serve you. Your party is on their way north, is it not?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir. Do you know any of them?”</p> - -<p>“Only Simpson, the guide. He is an old friend of mine. -Many is the time we have fled from Apaches. I started from -the hacienda on the morning you started for the north. I saw -your party, several days ago, down on the Santa Cruz river.”</p> - -<p>“Then you will help me to find my friends?”</p> - -<p>“Assuredly, senorita. Come in and rest. My accommodations -are poor, but they are better than none. Come in, -senorita.”</p> - -<p>No longer she feared to enter that forbidding aperture, but -led by Pedro, walked in. The mustang, seeing her mistress -disappear, came slowly toward the entrance.</p> - -<p>“Why, what a dismal, gloomy place,” said Kissie, timidly -halting in the entrance. “What is it—who lives here?”</p> - -<p>“It is an old outlaw den,” replied Pedro. “But no outlaws -occupy it now—its only resident is your servant.”</p> - -<p>Much she marveled, but she did not ask any questions, as -she was faint from lack of nourishment. Pedro, for security’s -sake, led her into the second chamber, and shaking up the -tattered, musty blankets, bade her rest while he procured food, -he going out for the purpose.</p> - -<p>She reclined on the soft blankets, greatly surprised at the -strange events in which she had participated. But she did -so unaccompanied by any feelings of alarm or of grief, for -now she had found a haven of rest.</p> - -<p>She sunk into a dreamy doze, delicious for its being indulged -in perfect safety. She had heard of the man outside—she -was aware he was a far-famed and respected scout and -warrior; she knew he would protect her. She could hear -him in the next room stirring about, whistling under his -breath, and the savory odor of roasting meat floated to her -nostrils. A lingering trace of uneasiness alone remained—she -knew her friends would be alarmed about her.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span></p> - -<p>This latter feeling was not strong enough to seriously alarm -her, as she conceived it an easy task for them to find her. -Mingling with it was a delicious sense of security and peace, -of rest and nourishment, and the savory smell of the adjoining -cookery. Gradually these blended into one feeling; Pedro’s -whistle outside became more melodious and softer—the -dull, gloomy air of the dark apartment soothed her, and she -fell asleep.</p> - -<p>Pedro, as he cooked his bit of venison (he had killed an -antelope when on the Gila), reflected and pondered, and his -thoughts shaped themselves into words.</p> - -<p>“She is asleep—I can hear her breathe. It is strange, very -strange, that she did not see it. It was no mistake of mine, -that I know. What, then, was it? The Trailer’s ghost.</p> - -<p>“Pshaw! I killed him a year ago, and saw him fall dead -with my own eyes. It can not—it can not be.</p> - -<p>“But I saw him. Ah, that is only too certain. Sitting on -his old black horse, under that waving black plume, and in -the same old dress. I saw him—I <i>know</i> I saw him. Pedro -Felipe, there is no fighting away the fact—you are haunted.”</p> - -<p>He shuddered, strong man as he was, and going to the entrance, -looked out. Still the hot breeze came from the south, -still the hot sun stared down upon the yellow plain, still all -was quiet. Only the mustang was in sight, browsing at a -little distance, with his head turned toward the east.</p> - -<p>“I must lariat that mustang,” said Pedro. “There are too -many Indians about for him to show our retreat. Yes, I will -lariat him.”</p> - -<p>Perhaps one motive for doing so was, that going out he -might peer over the hill. He dreaded a second appearance -of the apparition, and though he would not acknowledge it -to himself, cordially feared it. It was not to his discredit, -however.</p> - -<p>He took his lariat, or lasso, from his saddle, which lay on -the floor, the horse lying near. Then he stepped out, still -keeping one corner of his eye toward the summit of the hill.</p> - -<p>Suddenly he stopped.</p> - -<p>“What if she should awake and discover my treasure!” he -thought, trembling for its safety, though he knew she was -perfectly to be trusted.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span></p> - -<p>It was lying in a corner still, in the bag. He threw the -water-bucket, a blanket and his saddle over it.</p> - -<p>“That will suffice for the present,” he said; then casting -an eye toward the inner room, went out with his lariat.</p> - -<p>The mustang still browsed, tail toward him. It was an -excellent opportunity for a capture, and he would profit by it. -So, making a running-noose at one end, he coiled his lariat, -and taking the coil in his hand, began to swing it over his -head. At the same time he allowed the noose full play, by -this means increasing its size until it became several feet in -diameter. Such is the apparently simple manner of throwing -the lasso.</p> - -<p>The noose became larger and wider, the amount of rope in -his hand became less; in another moment the noose would -be over the animal’s head.</p> - -<p>It did not leave his hand. Just before he had got ready -to let it fly, a voice close by said:</p> - -<p>“Aim well, Pedro Felipe.”</p> - -<p>He started, dropped his rope, and stared round. He was -alone—no one had spoken. Was it imagination?—the mustang -still browsed—she had not heard it. It was a false -alarm.</p> - -<p>Again he picked up his rope. Again the voice spoke, this -time harshly.</p> - -<p>“Take care, Pedro!”</p> - -<p>Dropping his rope, he flew to the summit and looked over -the plain. No one was in sight—no apparition, no Indian, -no human being.</p> - -<p>Then with a pale face he darted toward the entrance, with -the ejaculated words:</p> - -<p>“The voice of the Trailer!”</p> - -<p>The trap-door rung harshly as he slammed it to from the -inside. The mustang heard the sound, tossed his head, and -galloped away a short distance, then stopped and looked at -the hillock.</p> - -<p>It was bare—no one was in sight. Relieved of her sudden -fear, she dropped her head and grazed again. The sun -slowly set over the Land of Silence.</p> - -<p>Who spoke?</p> - -<p>The man with the black plume in his conical hat.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">“APACHES!”</p> - -<p>The pursuing band wound away over the plain, now, at -four hours from sunrise, invisible from the banks of the -Gila.</p> - -<p>They were, as has been said, divided into two separate -parties. That of Cimarron Jack was in advance, the riders -urging on their steeds at a swift amble. The wagons behind -under charge of Burt Scranton, rattled along merrily, drawn by -horses kept at a slow trot.</p> - -<p>“I say,” said Jack, as they trotted on, “we are nearly into -the Land of Silence, now, ain’t we?”</p> - -<p>This remark was addressed to the guide. He nodded.</p> - -<p>“And now we’ve got to look out for Apaches.”</p> - -<p>“No ’Patchies hyar.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, there are.”</p> - -<p>“I know better. Never come inter this kentry. Too dry.”</p> - -<p>“Well, there are Apaches prowling about now—that I -know to be a fact.”</p> - -<p>“Know more’n I do, then.”</p> - -<p>“You bet I do. Hooray! three cheers for the man who -can clean out a whole jail-full of prize-fighters; a tiger for -the stoutest, smartest man in the world. I can thrash a jungle-full -of gorillas, myself. I tell <i>you</i>. I’m the man that -can’t be fazed, myself; and I’m the cock of the walk.”</p> - -<p>“I’m sick of thet durned braggin’,” growled Simpson. -“Heerd northin’ else sence I fust see’d yer.”</p> - -<p>“And you are liable to continue hearing it, too.”</p> - -<p>“Durn me ef I kain’t stop it.”</p> - -<p>“Yes you can—with a big copper.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I kin.”</p> - -<p>“Le’s see you try it.”</p> - -<p>“Hark!” suddenly cried Carpenter. “Was not that a -gun-shot?”</p> - -<p>The friendly disputants ceased their strife, and halting and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span> -turning in their saddles, listened long and earnestly. The -train was not in sight, having descended into a sort of dry -slough which ran across the plain.</p> - -<p>“False alarm,” declared Simpson, turning to continue the -trail. But Cimarron Jack disagreed with him.</p> - -<p>“Tim, I saw Apache Jack up by Comanche Rock day before -yesterday, and he warned me of a band of Apaches who -were out on a maraud, down in this direction. What he -says is gospel.”</p> - -<p>“Durned ef it ain’t! I giv’ in,” said Simpson. His confidence -in Apache Jack was unlimited.</p> - -<p>“The old boy was looking rather fazed,” continued Jack. -“He told me he had only just given them the slip, after a run -of thirty miles.”</p> - -<p>“Hark!” sharply commanded Mr. Wheeler. “I’m sure I -heard a gun behind.”</p> - -<p>“I thought I did, too,” said Sam.</p> - -<p>A puff of white smoke arose from the crest of a small -knoll, half a league behind; then a man was seen to spring -on the summit and wave his hat frantically.</p> - -<p>The eagle eye and electric brain of Cimarron Jack took in -the situation at once. He struck his steel spurs sharply into -the blood-bay’s flanks.</p> - -<p>“Come on!” he shouted, galloping toward the gesticulating -man. “There’s something wrong with the train. Come on! -follow the tiger-cat!”</p> - -<p>They followed, pell-mell, plying the spur. As if cognizant -of the importance of speed, the horses bent their heads -and fairly flew; while their riders kept their eyes upon the -man on the knoll.</p> - -<p>Suddenly he disappeared and a new object came in sight. -Afar off on the plain, beyond the invisible train, came a man -on a galloping animal. He was followed by another and -more, all shooting out from behind a distant ridge.</p> - -<p>“’Patchees!” yelled Simpson. “They air a-makin’ fur the -train!”</p> - -<p>The guide was right. The train was halted behind the -knoll, and the Apaches were galloping toward it. They had -evidently been following the trail, as they were coming from -the south-east.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span></p> - -<p>“Hurry!” cried Sam. “We will have to fly to save the -train.” And as he spoke he bent over his “clay-bank’s” -neck as if to accelerate his speed.</p> - -<p>The knoll was quite near now, being not more than three -hundred yards distant. The coming savages were at least a -mile away. The whites had the start.</p> - -<p>A minute more and they dashed up in a body to the -knoll.</p> - -<p>It was as they had expected; the train was grouped behind -it, every one being in hapless confusion with the exception of -Burt, who was loudly swearing at the utter disregard of his -orders by the two Robidoux.</p> - -<p>Duncan was scuttling about among his tin dishes and -kettles in his wagon, trying to find his favorite weapon—a -dull butcher-knife, with a blade like a hand-saw. The utmost -confusion prevailed.</p> - -<p>However, the arrival of the main body in some degree -quieted the teamsters and restored order.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the coming Apaches, now about a half-mile distant, -drew up their mustangs, and grouping, stared keenly at -the train. They had seen the horsemen suddenly arrive -to sustain the small band they were swooping down -upon.</p> - -<p>Cimarron Jack was in his element. Taking, with the -characteristic promptness of a veteran Indian-fighter, advantage -of their hesitation, he sprung from his horse.</p> - -<p>“Now, fly ’round!” he commanded. “Stir your stumps, -you fellows!” pointing to the Canadians. “You, Louis, drive -your team ahead ten feet!”</p> - -<p>The man obeyed, quieted by the magnetic influence which -Jack always possessed when in danger.</p> - -<p>“Now, Duncan—blast your nervous, excitable hide! drive -alongside Louis!”</p> - -<p>But Duncan paid no attention, searching, in an agony of -haste, for his lost knife.</p> - -<p>Burt promptly performed his task. The other Canadian, -with more coolness than the other drivers, seeing what was -desired, waited for no orders, but drove his wagon in a line -with the others.</p> - -<p>“Now all hands get to work and unhitch the horses. Don’t<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span> -be in a hurry; buckles can’t be managed without coolness -and deliberation.”</p> - -<p>The men went to work with dispatch, yet coolly, and in a -few moments the horses were detached from the wagons.</p> - -<p>“Now, you drivers take the horses aside, and the rest of us -will draw the wagons together.”</p> - -<p>The Canadians did as commanded, and the remainder drew -the wagons together; then the horses were tied firmly to the -wheels on the side next the knoll. Now they were in -quite a snug and secure fort, with a barricade of wagons in -front, and a small hill behind.</p> - -<p>After this short but highly necessary work was finished, -Cimarron Jack looked closely at his rifle, desiring the -others to do the same. He carefully reloaded his “Colt’s -six-shooters,” and laid them before him on the wheel-hub.</p> - -<p>“Now, boys,” he said, “we are in tolerable circumstances -for the present, but there is no knowing how long we will -remain so. Rot those cussed devils out there! there’s an army -of ’em!”</p> - -<p>“Fifteen,” corrected Simpson.</p> - -<p>“Fifteen to seven. Oh, that ain’t as bad as it might -be.”</p> - -<p>“What a large fellow that is, yonder, to one side,” observed -Carpenter, indicating a powerful, stalwart savage, prominent -among the rest.</p> - -<p>“Cheyenne,” remarked the guide, taking a huge bite from -a “plug o’ Navy,” which he always carried.</p> - -<p>“Comanche!” corrected Jack. “He’s no Apache—he -isn’t built like one. Tear my lion’s heart out, but I believe I -know him,” he suddenly added.</p> - -<p>“Durned ef I don’t, too!” declared Simpson, watching -him narrowly.</p> - -<p>“It’s Red-Knife, the renegade.”</p> - -<p>“K’rect!”</p> - -<p>“Who is he?” inquired Mr. Wheeler.</p> - -<p>“Red-Knife, the Comanche renegade—a notorious, murdering -old rat!” replied Jack. “He’s the worst Indian on the -plains, and ‘give up’ is something he does not know. Kicked -out of his own tribe he joined the Apaches, and since has<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span> -gained a reputation for cruelty and cunning far above any of -the others.”</p> - -<p>“We are in danger, then.”</p> - -<p>“Danger! Well, I should remark. But look yonder—what -in the name of Cimarron Jack, the cock of the walk, -does that painted devil mean?”</p> - -<p>All eyes were turned at once toward the savages. Before -stationary, they were now prancing and capering about, spreading -like a bird’s wing, then folding again, ever prancing and -curveting. Only the chief, Red-Knife, remained at rest. After -seeing his brother Ishmaelites wheel and curve about him -for some time, he dismounted, cast his weapons on the ground -and slowly stalked toward the barricade.</p> - -<p>“He’s a fool!” whispered Burt to Sam, as he drew within -rifle-range. “Fust thing he’ll know, he’ll find hisself dead, if -ever Simpson or t’other draws bead on him.”</p> - -<p>“He’s going to palaver,” remarked Jack.</p> - -<p>The savage drew quite close, until he halted within long -pistol-range. Then, spreading his arms and throwing back -his head, he cried out:</p> - -<p>“Are the pale-faces women, that they seek to hide? Are -they coyotes, that they burrow when danger comes? Are -they fools, that they know not that Red-Knife is the chief of -the plains—that he is not to be foiled?”</p> - -<p>He spoke in the Spanish tongue with a good tone and accent. -Long intercourse with the Mexicans had improved his -tongue.</p> - -<p>He received no answer; he went on.</p> - -<p>“Are the pale-faces dumb, that they do not reply? Ugh! -they are dogs.”</p> - -<p>“He thinks we are greasers—he does, by Cimarron Jack, -the god of war! Well, let him discover his mistake—he will -do so before long,” remarked Jack.</p> - -<p>“Le’s pepper him, Jack,” said the guide.</p> - -<p>“No; let him talk. If he thinks we are Mexicans he will -charge—then we will give him a little lead to digest.”</p> - -<p>“Will the pale faces surrender?” cried the chief. “Will -they yield?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yer jist go back ter yer daubed fools, and quit yer -gab!” cried the guide.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span></p> - -<p>The savage understood English slightly, and after some reflection, -deciphered the command. He started back a pace or -so, somewhat taken aback by finding he was taunting Americans. -Then he resumed, swaggering:</p> - -<p>“Come out from your hiding-place, women! Come like -men into the plain and talk to Red-Knife. He is a brave—he -has taken many scalps; the whites are dogs and are cowards.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll put a stopper to his mouth!” declared Jack, bending -and creeping through the wagons. Then, standing in full -view before the chief, he cried, brandishing his rifle:</p> - -<p>“Get back to your howling crew, you Comanche renegade -dog! Get back, or I’ll send you in a hurry.”</p> - -<p>He spoke in the chief’s own tongue, and he recognized -Jack. Knowing his deadly precision with the rifle, well acquainted -with his reckless daring and warlike proclivities, he -prepared to retreat to his companions. But he could not resist -the temptation of another taunt.</p> - -<p>“Squaw from the bitter river” (Cimarron Fork), “dog from -a dog’s country, coyote with a forked tongue—Red-Knife -will dance with his warriors and his braves around your -fire-stake. The squaws shall spit upon him, the pappooses -will pierce his flesh with darts, and the coyotes will tear his -flesh.”</p> - -<p>He turned and fled, dodging and darting from side to side -to avoid Jack’s bullet, which he knew would speed after him. -It did.</p> - -<p>Enraged, Cimarron Jack leveled his rifle and glanced over -the sights. The gun belched its smoke and fire, the chief -dodged at the very moment, and the bullet razed the black -feather which nodded on his painted head, and sped harmlessly -on.</p> - -<p>The guide, Sam, and Burt also fired, but their bullets were -wild—the chief’s erratic and rapid motion rendered it almost -impossible to strike him. Running like a deer, he speedily -regained his mustang and his band, and mounting, spoke -several hasty words to his clustered braves, gesticulating -wildly.</p> - -<p>The next moment they separated—one band of seven starting -away toward the north, while the other, with the chief,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span> -rode west a few yards, and drawing as near as they dared, -halted, facing the whites.</p> - -<p>“Now it has come right down to business, and we’ll have -to look sharp,” growled Jack.</p> - -<p>“Why so—what is wrong?” simply inquired Louis Robidoux.</p> - -<p>Jack glanced scornfully over him from head to foot.</p> - -<p>“Have you any eyes in your head?” he asked, with curling -lip. “If you have, just use ’em. Can’t you see they are going -to make a surround?”</p> - -<p>Under his yellow hair, the Canadian’s face flushed, and he -scowled at Jack.</p> - -<p>“Use me more respectfully, or you may rue it,” he -growled.</p> - -<p>“Dry up! You had better be a trifle more respectful yourself, -or <i>you</i> will rue it. I am Cimarron Jack, the fellow who -teaches grizzlies how to wrestle, collar-and-elbow; I am the -fellow who can hold a kicking mule by the off-hind-foot with -my thumb and little finger. I tell <i>you</i>, the man in the moon -doesn’t dare to make faces at me of a still night. He knows -I can shoot mighty straight, <i>he</i> does.”</p> - -<p>“Quit yer braggin’ and mind yer eye,” admonished the -guide, surlily. “It’s no time ter brag, now.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Cimarron Jack; pray do not breed discord at this -critical moment,” said Mr. Wheeler. “See, the hill now -hides the savages from our view—the band that rode away.”</p> - -<p>“Who’s breeding discord, I’d like to know? I don’t let -any mule-whacker say boo, to me, I tell <i>you</i>. However, -young bantam,” turning to the driver, “you and I see more of -each other, mind that. For the present, there is too much -to look after to fool with you.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">GIVE AND TAKE.</p> - -<p>Cimarron Jack, with these words, turned his back to the -sulky Canadian, and carefully reconnoitered the position of -the Indians. The chief’s band still remained drawn up in -line, facing them like soldiers on a dress-parade; the other -was not in sight.</p> - -<p>“This won’t do,” remarked Jack. “We must keep an eye -on those devils who rode round back of us. First thing we -know the whole gang will come whooping on us. That ’ll -never do—we must keep them off.”</p> - -<p>“But how are we going to do that?” inquired the Canadian.</p> - -<p>Jack became nettled.</p> - -<p>“Why, peep over the top of the hill, to be sure.”</p> - -<p>“But they will shoot us—Red-Knife’s band.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, they will try? I know I’m the crack shot of these -plains, and <i>I</i> can’t hit a man three quarters of a mile off -with a carbine that won’t kill at three hundred yards. They -darsn’t come within half a mile to shoot, so we are safe from -that quarter. There’s no time to be lost; those red fools -may be crawling up the other side of the hill for all we -know.”</p> - -<p>So saying, he coolly left the wagons, and deliberately -walked up the hillside. He was greeted with a volley from -Red-Knife’s band, but the bullets fell far short; the short -Mexican carbines were useless at long range.</p> - -<p>He slackened his pace as he drew near the summit, and -dropping on all-fours, crept up to the top, and peered -quickly but cautiously over. Then, with a short oath, he -rose to his feet, and with a surprised look gazed over the -plain.</p> - -<p>“What is it, Jack?” demanded the guide.</p> - -<p>“Tear my ten-ton heart out if there’s an Apache in sight -on this side.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span></p> - -<p>“That so?”</p> - -<p>“It’s a fact. Come up here and see, if you don’t believe -it.”</p> - -<p>The guide grasped his rifle and started toward the summit. -The rest followed.</p> - -<p>“Stay back, every one!” commanded Jack. “Two’s -enough up here. You stay back and keep the renegade at a -distance.”</p> - -<p>They obeyed, and Simpson mounted the hill and stood beside -Jack.</p> - -<p>“Tho’t yer said yer kedn’t see nuthin’?” remarked the -former.</p> - -<p>“So I did, and you can’t either.”</p> - -<p>“Kin, too.”</p> - -<p>“Where?”</p> - -<p>“Yonder. See thet black speck movin’ ’long toward the -east, a hundred yards ter the right?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“That’s an Apashe’s top-knot, an’ he’s skulkin’ along an -arroyo.”</p> - -<p>“Simpson, you always did have sharp eyes.”</p> - -<p>The guide received the compliment quietly, and resumed:</p> - -<p>“Arroyo bends ter the right jest thar, an’ every one o’ -them red devils is a-crawlin’ round ter sneak in ter us. Call -the men hyar an’ giv’ ’em a volley when they come in sight. -We kin pick off the lot.”</p> - -<p>The men were called just in time. Just as the savages -rounded the bend and arrived in full view each man chose a -savage and all fired simultaneously. They were all good shots, -and the effect was marked.</p> - -<p>Five of the seven Apaches threw up their arms and with -loud cries reeled and fell dead. The other two went back into -the arroyo like rabbits.</p> - -<p>“Well done!” cried Jack. “Hallo! look out—there -comes Red-Knife. Pull your revolvers and don’t shoot too -quick. Get under cover lively now.”</p> - -<p>They rushed down the hill again, and crept behind the -wagons. Red-Knife had seen the fatal volley and defeat of -his men and was frenzied with rage. At the head of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span> -whooping, screeching pack he rode, intent upon a sudden -charge while they were exposed.</p> - -<p>“Load your guns, men!” cried Jack. “Don’t be in a -hurry—there’s plenty of time. Hurrah! we are the cocks of -the walk, the men that can’t be beat.”</p> - -<p>The two parties were equally matched now, the savages -only numbering one more than the whites. But this did not -deter Red-Knife from making a charge. He had lived long -with the whites and had partially avoided his savage style of -warfare for that of the white men.</p> - -<p>On the yelling pack dashed, screaming hideously and rending -the air with their shrill whoops. The men behind the -wagons lay quiet, and having all reloaded, sighted across their -long rifles, coolly. Now that they were staring dread danger -in the face, the cook, Kit Duncan, was cool and determined, -having thrown aside the nervous apprehension with which he -had been afflicted at the approach of the savages. He had -killed his man, too, in the arroyo, and Jack regained confidence -in him.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the approaching pack divided, part going to the -right, and part to the left, swerving by, beyond sure rifle aim. -Never apparently noticing their enemies, they rode on at a -keen run until they had half completed the circuit of the camp.</p> - -<p>“By thunder!” shouted Simpson. “Climb inter the -wagons, boys—they air goin’ ter fire criss-cross.”</p> - -<p>“A cross-fire!” ejaculated Jack. “Pile into the wagons, -boys—lively now.”</p> - -<p>He was already half-way into the nearest wagon. The -men stopped not to reflect—they knew that under a cross-fire -they would soon be cut to pieces, and helter-skelter they -scrambled, each into the nearest wagon.</p> - -<p>As it happened, the guide and Sam were in the same -wagon with Cimarron Jack. In the next, and center one, -were the remainder, huddled in the bottom, to escape the -bullets which would easily pierce the canvas cap-tents.</p> - -<p>“Blast it! the horses will git shot—every blamed one of -’em,” declared Simpson, in disgust. “They’ve got a fair, -square aim at ’em—rot their red hides. Cuss an Injun, anyhow. -Thar’s no knowin’ what they’ll do, nor when they’ll -do it.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span></p> - -<p>A rejoinder was made in the shape of a bullet which “sung” -through the wagon-cover just above his head; he dodged, and -growled, “Lucky we ain’t outside now.”</p> - -<p>“It is, indeed,” rejoined Sam; “very fortunate. We should -have thought of this contingency.”</p> - -<p>It was a singular oversight. In the manner in which the -wagons were placed, a sort of lane was formed by them and -the supporting knoll. The savages, at opposite sides, could -bring to bear a heavy cross fire through the lane; they were -doing it now, hence the whites’ alarm.</p> - -<p>For a few moments a perfect hailstorm of bullets rattled -against the wagons, but no one was struck; then they ceased -to bury themselves in the woodwork.</p> - -<p>“They’ve emptied their barrels,” Jack said, with a contemptuous -smile. “The more fools they—now just stick your -heads out, boys, and pepper ’em while they can’t return it!” -he added, in a loud voice.</p> - -<p>“Le’s both go fur Red-Knife,” whispered the guide.</p> - -<p>“Ay: we can’t both miss him.”</p> - -<p>Hastily throwing up the wagon-cover, they took a quick -aim and fired. However, the wily savage saw the movement, -and slipping behind his mustang, eluded the bullets, which, -close together, whistled through the air where his body had -been but a moment before. A shrill yell of derision came -from his lips as he peered over the steed’s back at the foiled -scouts. Jack swore roundly.</p> - -<p>Sam had also fired at a tall savage, but had been foiled in -the same manner. The ones in the other wagon, however, -had succeeded in bringing one dusky devil to the dust. Now -they were exactly equal.</p> - -<p>They durst not peep from the wagons lest they might prove -a good mark for an Apache rifle. However, Simpson soon -bethought himself of a simple plan by which they might easily -reduce their enemies’ number. Drawing his knife he cut -a slit in the canvas wagon-cover, then two more for his companions; -then called out to the occupants of the other wagon -to do the same. Now they could protrude their rifles, and -with a good aim and a simultaneous volley might lessen their -enemies by one-half.</p> - -<p>The plan would have been successful had not the chief<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span> -suddenly suspected something. Making a signal, he began to -move away. However, he was a little too dilatory. Just as -he was getting into long rifle-range, the guide and his companions -discharged their pieces, the others doing the same at -the other band.</p> - -<p>One bullet whistled by the renegade’s head and lodged in -that of a short, malicious warrior who rolled from his horse, -dead. Anther struck Red-Knife in the leg, they could tell, -as he twitched it suddenly, then clapped his hand upon it. A -yell from the other band caused them to look toward it. A -gaunt, tall savage started up in his saddle, gazed wildly round -for a moment, then his mustang galloped away, riderless; -two savages the less.</p> - -<p>It was now high noon, and the sun’s rays poured down -like molten lead on the white covers of the wagons. Outside, -the horses, who were unharmed, (the Indians having -thought to secure them alive) protruded their tongues and -nickered low and pleadingly for a taste of the water-butt. -The men, too, mauger the warm and tepid water, were suffering -with the intense heat. The very air seemed as if a hurricane -from a baker’s oven was brewing. The wood-work -was blistered and parched; and still the sun shone redly, still -the men sweltered and watched, still the savages, drawn up in -line, watched the wagons under the knoll.</p> - -<p>The day wore on. Vultures wheeled above, now drawn -hither by the sounds of strife; coyotes skulked and sniffed -the air at a safe distance; and still the sun shone down hotly -upon the two hostile bands.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the savages rode back to their former position, -and clustering together, gesticulated energetically. The whites -could not hear, but knew they were engaged in a discussion.</p> - -<p>Only a few moments they talked and gestured, then they -turned their mustangs’ heads to the south-west.</p> - -<p>Dismounting from his mustang, Red-Knife stalked toward -the whites for a few rods; then he cried:</p> - -<p>“The Red-Knife is a brave—he seeks not to war with dogs -and cowards. The sounds of war come from the south; -there will the Comanche go to war with braves—he leaves -pale-face dogs to their own cowardly deeds. The Red-Knife -has spoken.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span></p> - -<p>Cimarron Jack sprung out of the wagon into the open -plain. The chief recognized him.</p> - -<p>“Dog from the bitter river!” he cried, with an insulting -gesture; “coward of a coyote, squaw, sneak, the Red-Knife -laughs at you.”</p> - -<p>“I’m Cimarron Jack, the grizzly-tamer! I’m the man that -killed cock-robin! I’m the jumping wild-cat from Bitter -Creek! I’m the man that can run faster ’n a jack-rabbit, -swear more than a camp-cook, neigh more than an elephant, -and kill thieving Indians like the small-pox. I’m the Grand -Mogul of Tartary, and I’m the cock of the walk.”</p> - -<p>The chief turned, stalked back to his steed, mounted, and -rode away with his band toward the south; clustered together, -riding swiftly.</p> - -<p>The men came out from the wagons, and, standing on the -plain, watched the Indians as they swiftly receded, wondering.</p> - -<p>It was no sham, no strategy; they were actually going; -and, in the course of an hour, were lost in the distance.</p> - -<p>“I say, Simpson, what does all this mean?” inquired Mr. -Wheeler.</p> - -<p>“Dunno!”</p> - -<p>“Haven’t you any idea?” asked Sam.</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“I have—a pretty sure one,” replied Jack.</p> - -<p>“What is it?”</p> - -<p>“You know Apache Jack told me the other day, at Comanche -Creek, that thirty Apaches chased him thirty miles -or more?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Well, he said Red-Knife was the chief of the band. Now -the skunk had only fourteen here besides himself—fifteen in -all. That shows there has been a division for some reason or -other. Now he’s bound south to fetch the bulk of the band -to help him. He will be back in twenty hours, depend upon -it—then look out.”</p> - -<p>“I think you are wrong,” said Burt Scranton. “If Red-Knife -was goin’ ter fetch the rest of his gang, he’d leave some -one hyar ter keep an eye on us.”</p> - -<p>“Jest whar <i>you’re</i> wrong,” declared Simpson. “We leave<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span> -a big trail behind us—I tell <i>you</i>. It’ll be mighty easy fur -him ter foller it. He takes his hull gang ter make us b’lieve -he’s gone fur good—the old badger. But I b’lieve we kin -outwit him yet.”</p> - -<p>“How?” was the general question.</p> - -<p>“Jest this ’ere way: ’bout ten miles north is a bigger hill -nor this—a hill kivered with loose rocks. Thar’s a devilish -peart place ter make a stand thar—and it’s only three miles -from the sweetest water yer ever tasted—Alkali Creek. It’s what -them fellers that think they know so much when they don’t -know nuthin’—book-writers—call a subter-rain again stream.”</p> - -<p>“Subterranean,” corrected Sam. “Alkali Creek does not, -by its name, give any great promise.”</p> - -<p>“Wal, thar’s good water thar; it ain’t very cold, but it’s -sweet, an’ that’s the main thing.”</p> - -<p>“I believe we would make a strike by going,” added Cimarron -Jack. “I know the hill—it is a strange place. Men -have been seen to ride up to it, and suddenly disappear, and -all efforts to find them have been useless. However, for a -year there’s been nothing wrong about it, and I, for one, move -we go as quick as we can. The sun is only three or four -hours high, and time is scarce. Besides we may find the -young Miss there.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Wheeler groaned, and Carpenter looked gloomy, but -they both agreed with Jack. Of course, the rest were bound -to follow them.</p> - -<p>The hasty resolve was soon put in execution. The horses -were watered from the butt, and attached to the wagons; the -drivers mounted their saddles, and the horsemen trotted away, -past the ghastly red bodies, past the coyotes, under the wheeling -vultures, bound for the Hillock.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">GONE—GONE!</p> - -<p>On that same afternoon, and about sunset or a little later, -Pedro was eating a frugal supper in the hollow hillock with -Kissie.</p> - -<p>Both were downcast. She, on account of her friends, was -uneasy and sad, while he was still experiencing the fear of -dealing with something not of this world. The mysterious -voice he knew so well of old, that terrible form he had seen, -still haunted him. And more; the sudden disappearance of -the apparition highly alarmed him and kept his nerves strung -to the highest tension, and he expected every moment to see -it stalk in upon him.</p> - -<p>But he kept his own counsel and did not further alarm and -annoy his companion by relating the incident.</p> - -<p>The supper was plain—the remnants of a venison dinner -and some dried meat which Pedro carried in his haversack. -The torch threw a feeble, flickering light over the gloomy -apartment; an insect droned a funeral dirge close by in some -cranny; the horse close by stamped and chewed his grain, -and the sound of the mustang’s hoofs outside were dull and -heavy; night was drawing on.</p> - -<p>“Hist, senorita!” Pedro suddenly whispered, with uplifted -hand. “Surely I heard a voice.”</p> - -<p>They listened; all was quiet.</p> - -<p>They were about resuming their meal when the mustang -outside snorted and galloped away; something had alarmed -her.</p> - -<p>“Something is at hand,” said Pedro. “Stay here, senorita, -while I peep out. Do not be alarmed—I will not leave you.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I pray it is my father—pray God it is,” she replied, -with a lightened heart.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps it is—I hope so, senorita. But I must go—I am -sure I hear the voice again.”</p> - -<p>Though inwardly quaking, Pedro’s exterior was cool, impassible—his -features betrayed no fear. Though never<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span> -doubting that if he looked out he should again see the fearful -apparition, he picked up his gun and squeezing through the -interior passage, stalked to the door and peeped out.</p> - -<p>“Hello! thar’s her mustang,” he heard a strange voice say, -and a moment later several men rode round the hill. He -was relieved at finding they were flesh and blood, and not his -ghastly enemy, and using his eyes sharply, scanned them.</p> - -<p>They were three in number. One, a middle-aged man -with a careworn expression and haggard face was drearily -peering round about him. Close beside him, on a “clay-bank” -horse, sat a handsome young man, speaking to him in -a low tone, evidently endeavoring to cheer him. The third -was a burly, stout man, on a powerful “States horse.” The -reader is well aware who they are—the party of searchers.</p> - -<p>But Pedro did not know them, and though strongly suspecting -their identity, was not the man to trust to appearances -or jump at conclusions. He resolved to wait and watch.</p> - -<p>“Here comes the guide and Cimarron Jack,” remarked -Carpenter, pointing over the plain. “And the wagons are at -hand, too; we will soon be strongly encamped.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Wheeler made no rejoinder save a sigh.</p> - -<p>By the gaze of his two comrades, Pedro judged the guide -and Cimarron Jack were at hand. The latter he had often -heard of, but had never seen. His supposition proved correct; -a rattle of wheels was heard, three white-capped wagons -rounded the hill and drew up by the three horsemen, -and simultaneously two men came round the opposite side, -mounted, the one on a mustang and the other on a powerful -deep-bay.</p> - -<p>Though the twilight had almost given place to night, yet -Pedro recognized the former of the two horsemen—the guide. -His heart leaped at the sight, for joy. Many were the dangers -he had faced with the weatherbeaten guide, many were -the hardships they together had endured, closely-knit were -the bonds of mutual like and esteem; and Pedro with joy -gazed upon his companion of yore.</p> - -<p>His first impulse was to rush out and grasp his old “pardner” -by the hand; but a second thought changed his mind.</p> - -<p>“They might become alarmed and shoot me,” he reflected. -“I will make myself known.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span></p> - -<p>“But stay,” he resumed. “I might as well see to my treasure—I -don’t know all of those men; there might be a knave -among them.”</p> - -<p>The precious bag still lay covered with the saddle, the water-bucket -and the blankets.</p> - -<p>He had dug the gold from a hole close by. It was not refilled, -and taking the bag he placed it in its former hiding-place -and then threw the concealing articles over it; for the -present they were safe.</p> - -<p>Then going to the closed trap-door he placed his lips to a -chink, and whispered: “Tim Simpson.”</p> - -<p>Intending to give Kissie a glad surprise, he lowered his -voice so she could not hear him from the other chamber.</p> - -<p>“What’s wanted?” growled the guide, supposing one of -his party was the speaker. He received no rejoinder. Pedro -whispered again.</p> - -<p>“Simpson—old friend.”</p> - -<p>“Well, spit it eout!” sharply spoke the guide. “Don’t -whisper, ‘Simpson,’ all day.</p> - -<p>“Who spoke?” asked Burt.</p> - -<p>“Dunno.”</p> - -<p>“I heard a whisper,” said Jack.</p> - -<p>“So did I; and I,” added several.</p> - -<p>“Didn’t any o’ yer fellers speak ter me?”</p> - -<p>“No—no.”</p> - -<p>“Durned cur’ous. I heerd a whisper, sartin.”</p> - -<p>“So did all of us,” said Sam.</p> - -<p>Pedro spoke a trifle louder.</p> - -<p>“Simpson, here I am—Pedro Felipe,” and he boldly -emerged from the hill.</p> - -<p>Astounded, the party started back, then leveled their guns, -believing him immortal, his appearance was so sudden and unexpected. -Pedro, seeing his danger, dropped prone to the -earth. He was not too soon, for, staggered and alarmed, -several fired at him; but his presence of mind saved his -life.</p> - -<p>Rushing rapidly to Simpson, he sprung behind his mustang -to avoid being shot, as several guns were aimed at him.</p> - -<p>“Simpson—have you forgotten me? I am your old friend, -Pedro.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span></p> - -<p>The guide recognized him and sprung from his mustang. -He was too old a hunter and guide to remain surprised for -any length of time.</p> - -<p>“Gee-whiz!” he cried, scrambling about in a mad wrestle -with the Mexican. “Durn yer old greaser soul! gee-mini, -cry-mini! Hooray! dog-gon me ef it ain’t Pedro!”</p> - -<p>The rifles were lowered and the horsemen stared aghast. -Surprised, astounded, they sat wondering, neither stirring or -speaking. Meanwhile the American and Mexican scrambled -about in their wild and friendly wrestle, overwhelming each -other with their joyful buffets, and light hugs. To a stranger -it would have seemed a struggle of death as the guide cursed -roundly and bestowed epithets without number upon his long-absent -friend, many too coarse, even foul, to be presented -here.</p> - -<p>At last, from sheer inability to further continue, they relaxed -their clutches, and drawing back a pace, stood looking -the other over from head to foot—they were rare friends.</p> - -<p>“Cimarron Jack,” said the guide, “here’s the sharpest, -’cutest, patientest man in the kentry. Durn yer braggin’ eyes, -git off of yer hoss and greet him.”</p> - -<p>“Pedro Felipe!” cried Jack, dismounting, “you are a greaser, -but a first-class fellow I’ve heard. Shake the vice of the -cock of the walk and the terror of the grizzlies. Put your -hand there, you villain.”</p> - -<p>“Cimarron Jack, I, too, have heard of you frequently, as a -boasting, vaunting knave, with more tongue than strength or -brains. I hope you will die with your boots on,” replied Pedro, -shaking his hand cordially. That introduction would -be considered formal and cold a few miles north-west—in -California, where every man greets a stranger with an oath -and an evident insult. However, these two men were polite -and gentlemanly, and either would have regarded as an insult -any more polite greeting.</p> - -<p>“Where did you come from, Pedro?” asked Jack. “Darn -me, I was scared—I was for a fact.”</p> - -<p>“Out of the hill yonder.”</p> - -<p>“Glory hallelujurrum! there <i>is</i> a hole. What in the name -of Cimarron Jack the thorough-bred from Bitter Creek, were -you doing in there?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span></p> - -<p>Pedro pointed to the mustang, Dimple, grazing at a distance. -“Do you see that mustang?” he asked.</p> - -<p>Mr. Wheeler sprung from his horse, followed by Sam and -Burt. Rushing to Pedro he cried, seizing him by the shoulder:</p> - -<p>“For God’s sake, where is my daughter? Tell me, sir, -quickly!”</p> - -<p>Pedro was a man of few words. In answer, he pointed -quietly to the dark aperture in the hillside.</p> - -<p>“Where? I do not see her. Sir, you joke with me.”</p> - -<p>“No he don’t, nuther,” surlily put in the guide. “He -ain’t thet kind of a man, let me tell yer.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps he means there is a cave in the hill,” suggested -Carpenter.</p> - -<p>“Just so, senor; she is there.”</p> - -<p>They stopped not to parley, or to demand an explanation -of his sudden appearance, albeit they were greatly surprised; -but one and all dismounting, rushed to the cave entrance.</p> - -<p>But Pedro, suddenly alarmed for his treasure’s safety, sprung -before the hole. Drawing his beautiful dagger, he cried, -hoarsely:</p> - -<p>“Stand back! back! you shall not enter.”</p> - -<p>“But we will!” shouted Carpenter, rushing at him menacingly. -The guide put out his foot and dexterously tripped -him.</p> - -<p>“And, by Judas, yer won’t go in ef he sez not ter!” he -growled, placing himself beside Pedro, and cocking his rifle. -“Pedro’s my friend, and I’ll stan’ by him ef I hev ter desert -the gang ter do it. Jest count me in, Pedro.”</p> - -<p>“Let me go in—stand away!” cried Mr. Wheeler, wildly. -“I <i>must</i> go in.”</p> - -<p>The guide put him back with his hands. “Mr. Wheeler, -fur the present yer ’r my boss, and a durned good one yer ’ve -be’n, too; but, Pedro an’ me swore ter allus stick to one -another, and I’ll stick ter him, and fight the party I’m a member -of—that’s Simpson, the guide.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, thunder, Simpson! what’s the use of keeping a man -in suspense? I’m disgusted with you, for a fact.”</p> - -<p>“Cimarron Jack, you an’ me hev run tergether considerable, -but I’ll stick ter Pedro, yer may jest bet yer bottom dollar<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span> -on it! He sez her shain’t go in, and I’ll back every durned -thing he says. Ef yer don’t like it yer can lump it!”</p> - -<p>Cimarron Jack grew red in the face, and his eyes sparkled. -Pedro, knowing a quarrel between these two men would result -in the death of one or both of them, hastily said:</p> - -<p>“Don’t quarrel—keep cool! I am willing every one should -go in—I am even anxious; but I must go in first. That is -the reason I kept you back.”</p> - -<p>“Wal, why ’n thunder don’t ye <i>go</i> in, then!” demanded -Burt. “Thar’s no use in talkin’ all day, is thar? the old -gentleman wants ter see his darter—kain’t yer let him in?”</p> - -<p>Pedro sheathed his dagger, and saying:</p> - -<p>“Certainly—come in,” sprung over the small pit in which -his treasure was hidden. Then, knowing such a procedure -would attract attention, he stepped aside. The men filed -quickly in, leaving their horses outside unwatched, and stood -blinking in the double twilight inside.</p> - -<p>“Christina—Kissie!” cried Mr. Wheeler. “My child, -where are you?”</p> - -<p>There was silence for a moment. Pedro expected to see -Kissie glide gladly from the inner chamber into her father’s -arms; but she did not appear.</p> - -<p>“Strange,” he thought. “Is it possible she is sleeping?”</p> - -<p>“Well—where is she?” impatiently demanded Carpenter.</p> - -<p>“She is in the inner apartment; I was thinking she would -come at the sound of her father’s voice.”</p> - -<p>“Where is the inner apartment? lead us there!” clamored -the men. Pedro, leaving his treasure, reluctantly stalked -toward the narrow passage. They followed eagerly, pressing -close upon him. He slipped through and found the torch -was extinguished.</p> - -<p>“Ha!” he ejaculated.</p> - -<p>“What’s up?” whispered Simpson, in his ear. “Curse -this black hole—it’s dark as a pocket!”</p> - -<p>“Where is she? now you have brought us here, where is -she? Strike a light! a light! Kissie—Kissie!” cried Mr. -Wheeler. They listened. No answering voice sounded, no -sound was heard; deathlike stillness, and damp, thick air -brooded round.</p> - -<p>“Sirs, there is something very strange in this,” hollowly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span> -whispered Pedro. “I left her here not fifteen minutes since. -The torch is where I left it—my hand is upon it; I will -strike a light.”</p> - -<p>The torch flamed redly out as Pedro, waving it aloft, -peered round the chamber.</p> - -<p>He could not see her. With the men strangely affected -by some unknown influence, with their weapons drawn, he -walked slowly about the narrow chamber, making the entire -circuit without success.</p> - -<p>“Senors,” and his voice, they could perceive, was hollow -and quivering—“there have been ugly and strange happenings -here, to-day. She is not here.”</p> - -<p>All was silence.</p> - -<p>“There is still the first chamber—she may be there; we -may have missed her; sirs, this way.”</p> - -<p>They followed.</p> - -<p>In the first chamber again. The torch flickers in the -breeze as they walk slowly about after it—a mysterious influence -is upon all.</p> - -<p>“Sirs—senors—she is not here.”</p> - -<p>All is quiet and the torch flares redly. The horses outside -are silent—they never stamp, the night breeze is damp, and -the torch flickers and flares; all is quiet in the Land of Silence.</p> - -<p>A hollow voice is heard; it is Pedro’s; he speaks almost -in a whisper.</p> - -<p>“Senors—sirs—let us go outside.”</p> - -<p>He stalks away. They follow in utter silence; even the -guide and the ranger are under a strange influence. They -emerge into the open air.</p> - -<p>Pedro, the guide and Cimarron Jack stood on the summit -of the hill and peered round in the darkness. The twilight -had given place to-night, yet they could see some distance, -the atmosphere was so clear. The horses stood as if statues, -motionless; the mustang was out on the plain, but she was -no longer browsing; on the contrary, she at intervals tossed -her head and stamped—she was uneasy.</p> - -<p>The guide and the ranger went slowly down the hill, with -subdued faces, into the throng below. Pedro remained above -with his torch.</p> - -<p>The mustang now trotted toward him, snorting and tossing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span> -her mane; he watched her, flaring the torch for a better -view.</p> - -<p>Suddenly she screamed shrilly and galloped rapidly away. -At the same instant Pedro saw a form approaching. He -waved the torch.</p> - -<p>The form drew near, and he perceived it was that of a -colossal horseman. He slightly stooped and held his torch -aloft. He drew nearer, and strangely his horse’s feet gave out -no sound. The men below were on the opposite side of the hill.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the horseman loomed up as if by magic, and -Pedro, with a wild cry, started to his feet. The horseman -wheeled and was riding away at a gallop into the darkness—in -thirty seconds he was invisible. Pedro for a moment stood -stupefied, and no wonder, for in that colossal form, on the -powerful black horse, under the conical hat with a black -plume, rode <i>the Trailer</i>.</p> - -<p>For a moment only he stood semi-paralyzed, then, with a -wild cry, and waving his torch, he sprung down the hill. -Into the aperture he went, and with trembling, eager hands -tore away the coverings of his treasure.</p> - -<p>Off came the saddle, then the water-bucket, aside went the -blankets, and his arm plunged into the hole.</p> - -<p>Standing in the entrance, they saw him rise, reel, stagger, -and fall directly under his horse’s hoofs with a wild cry, and -a brief, hoarsely yelled sentence. Then Pedro fainted, with -the echo of his cry ringing and dying through the gloomy -cavern:</p> - -<p>“Gone—gone—all gone!”</p> - -<p>They rushed in and lifted him up, the guide first. Taking -him tenderly in his arms, he held the torch to his face; then -he laid him gently down; then he shook his head slowly; -then, with every muscle, feature and lineament of his face -showing his earnestness, with wild eyes, with voice trembling -and hollow in spite of himself, he said:</p> - -<p>“Gentlemen, thar’s suthin’ wrong ’bout this cursed, ugly -black hill; the strongest, coolest, bravest man in the world -has fainted clean away—dead away!”</p> - -<p>“And the girl—where is she?—she is gone,” muttered -Cimarron Jack.</p> - -<p>“She is gone—gone!”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">WORSE YET.</p> - -<p>The guide, lifting the torch, looked round on a small band -of vaguely-frightened, nervous men. Why should they be -frightened—why nervous? Nearly all were accustomed to -hob-nob with Nature in her strangest and most incomprehensible -moods—were accustomed to sudden surprises and alarms, -and all were endowed with at least ordinary courage and -“nerve.”</p> - -<p>The secret of this alarm was this—they all had heard that -a once feared and malignant robber, who had been dead a -year, was roaming nocturnally about the Land of Silence. -Knowing him to be dead, they were satisfied it was his ghost. -All men have at least a small amount of superstition innate—these -were no exception. The guide had recounted his strange -meeting with the robber, and had been implicitly believed, as -his manner when relating it was not that of one who would -joke or falsely speak. Having never seen him they were affected -by the guide’s mistrust and vague fear, and by the -sudden, strange, and real disappearance of Kissie. They -never doubted she had been an occupant of the cave—was -not her mustang just without? Then if she had not, Pedro -never would have voluntarily shown himself if he had wished -to keep her concealed. It was only too plain she had been -there and had disappeared.</p> - -<p>They would have been more alarmed had they seen what -Pedro had seen—had they known what he knew; it was better -they did not—far better.</p> - -<p>Darkness reigned over the Land of Silence; the hill with -its adjacent horses and wagons—with its inner, half-scared -occupants, lay still as the cool breeze swept over it; only the -mustang on the prairie quietly browsing made a faint noise -as she cropped the short and wiry bunch-grass here and -there—all was quiet in the vast desert, as the night waxed -on toward midnight.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span></p> - -<p>Nine o’clock. Now Pedro was sitting up, supported by -the faithful guide, and plied and harassed with questions he -chose not to answer. He told of Kissie’s appearance at the -cave, of his conversation with her, of the way in which she -had occupied herself during the time she had been with him, -of the last he saw of her, where she was and what she -was doing; but why he came, when he arrived, what he tarried -for, and what he had seen, he refused to tell. He was -firm and decided, though his nerves were shaken considerably.</p> - -<p>Mr. Wheeler was overwhelmed and in a semi-stupor, and -Carpenter was alarmed for his health. After being so near -his loved daughter, after almost touching her and being -within ear-shot, the shock of the sudden disappearance had -unmanned him, and he had sunk into a state of imbecility.</p> - -<p>Carpenter, loving Kissie and grieving for her, was more in -a state to appreciate his sufferings than any one else, and did -his best to comfort him, being assisted in a rude manner by -the faithful Burt Scranton. But if he heard their words of -comfort he did not reply—sitting motionless he grieved alone. -The night wore on.</p> - -<p>Ten o’clock. The group was gloomy and quiet, each one -sitting or lying on the ground, some smoking, others chewing, -and all reserved and moody. No watch outside had been set, -as they were all strangely stupefied by the recent strange -events. The horses attached to the wagons were quiet, the -deserted saddle-horses were lying down, and the mustang out -on the plain began to show very distinctly—the moon was -rising.</p> - -<p>Between eleven and twelve o’clock there was a slight movement -outside among the horses, and a succession of stampings -ensued; but it was soon quieted, involuntarily, and was still -again.</p> - -<p>Cimarron Jack, growing weary of the dead calm in the -cell-like chamber, rose to his feet and started toward the door. -As he did so, a clamor arose outside. A mare screamed viciously, -stamping; a shrill “nicker” came from a horse, and -there was at the same moment a sound of rushing and galloping -hoofs.</p> - -<p>He sprung to the trap and peered out, then yelled shortly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span></p> - -<p>Swarming round among the stationary train were over a -score of running, twisting, gliding Indians, overrunning the -wagon, busily engaged in unhitching the draft-horses, while -more were galloping over the plain striving to lariat the saddle -horses, which had taken fright and galloped away. They -were busy as bees, and were swarming round like them. -Thirty running, robbing Indians make a larger show than fifty -whites, they are so much more agile and quick.</p> - -<p>Selecting a burly knave close by, who was trying to burst -a stout tobacco caddy, he took a long, deliberate aim and fired, -then drawing his Colt’s six-shooter, commenced firing rapidly, -yelling like a demon.</p> - -<p>The large Indian fell dead on his breast, with a gurgling -groan; and the precise and correctly aimed revolver wounded -two more, who dropped, then rose and staggered away.</p> - -<p>Like magic, the work of plunder ceased. Individually -dropping their occupations, the savages sharply looked round -for the cause of the sudden and fatal volley, but as Jack had -slunk back into the cave they saw nothing. Then they became -wildly alarmed, all their hereditary superstitions crowding -one upon another, and began to retreat.</p> - -<p>Cimarron Jack strove to organize his men, in order to make -a sudden onslaught, which would be more efficacious than a -volley from the hill, as the savages would be frightened out -of their wits at seeing them rise from the ground. But surprised, -the “green” ones clustered together like sheep, paying -no attention to his oaths and orders, and before he could -begin to reassure them, the savages had mounted their mustangs, -and with the stolen draft-horses, went away like the -wind, a large and scared band of thirty, headed by the malevolent -chief, Red-Knife.</p> - -<p>“Give ’em a volley before they get away!” he cried, leveling -his reloaded rifle and firing. The guide, Sam and Burt -followed his example, but only one shot took effect—a retreating -savage rolled from his mustang, which sprung away riderless. -The others were too surprised to fire.</p> - -<p>Jack started out into the plain.</p> - -<p>“Jerusalem! look at ’em skedaddling off with every cussed -draft horse. Whew! mount as quick as you can, boys, and -after ’em. Lively, now!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span></p> - -<p>The moonlight revealed an exciting scene. Away toward -the south-east, riding like the wind, were seven and twenty -Apaches, fleeing from some unknown terror, with a dozen -draft-horses led after them. Two reeled in their saddles, one -growing faint and scarcely able to cling to his mustang; the -other, though weak from loss of blood, still managed to preserve -his balance, though clumsily; they were the victims of -Cimarron Jack’s proficiency with fire-arms. One mustang was -riderless—the one from which the last savage had been shot; -and he galloped along with his mounted companions, his side -streaked with blood.</p> - -<p>Behind were several men out on the plain by the hillock, -coaxing their runaway steeds to them. It was a tedious, long -task, as they had been frightened in good earnest.</p> - -<p>Finally, Simpson succeeded in lariating his mustang, and -then mounting, soon collected the rest. Then the majority -of the horsemen rode away in pursuit, leaving the rest to -search in the cave for the lost girl.</p> - -<p>The pursuers were Jack, Simpson, Carpenter, Burt and -Louis Robidoux; the remainder were Mr. Wheeler, Duncan, -Napoleon Robidoux and the half stupefied and almost useless -Pedro.</p> - -<p>The latter party watched the others till they were lost in -the far distance. Then they turned toward the cave.</p> - -<p>“We are in for it,” remarked Robidoux, in a low tone, to -Duncan. “What if more of these mean Indians should come? -We’d be the only ones fit to fight ’em. Look at the master -and the Mexican—they are both entirely useless. One is -half-dead about some strange affair, while the other is almost -in a trance with grief.”</p> - -<p>Duncan broke out vehemently:</p> - -<p>“They went away and never told me whether they’d be -back to breakfast. Now, blast the luck! if I cook up a lot -of grub for the whole party, and they ain’t here to eat it, the -things’ll all spile, and then I’ll catch thunder for being extravagant -and wasteful. And if I don’t cook for the lot, they’ll -be sure to come back, and then there’ll be a fuss ’cause breakfast -ain’t ready.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, never mind the breakfast; there are other things -more important than that, just now.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span></p> - -<p>The cook stared at him aghast.</p> - -<p>“Other things more im-port-ant to look after! Oh, every -hair of my head! Oh, my boot-heels! Oh, if I didn’t get -breakfast to-morrow, what a swearing, red hot mess there’d -be—every man a-cussing me. You never was a camp cook—you -don’t know what it is.”</p> - -<p>“It’s the softest job in the train.”</p> - -<p>“Say that again and I’ll knock you down! Great Cæsar! -if I wanted to have the sweetest revenge on an enemy, I’d -condemn him to cook all his life for a camp. He’d go crazy—every -hair in his head would turn gray in a few months. -Heavens! what torments! Talk about your referees—talk -about your President of the United States—your umpires—your -settlers of disputes—there’s not so thankless a job in the -world as that of a camp cook. It is always, cook, do this—cook, -do that; cook, when’s dinner going to be ready? There -ain’t enough biscuits, cook—why didn’t ye make more? You -never make the coffee strong enough, cook—why don’t ye -make it stronger? Cook, go fetch some drinking water! just -as if I war a slave. No wonder I’m cross; who ever saw a -camp cook that wasn’t? Nobody.</p> - -<p>“And then if a meal ain’t ready to a second, how I’m -sworn at and cursed. Cook, what makes you always behind? -you are never on time. Then when it is ready, then comes -the music—a regular dirge to me. One grumbling rascal says -the meat ain’t cooked; another swears ’cause thar’s gnats in -the coffee—just as if I could go round catching bugs like a -boy with a butterfly net. And if a feller is in a civilized -country and has butter, then it melts until you have to soak -your bread in it to get any one. They cuss me for that too, -and say I’m lazy and stingy because I won’t tote an ice-chest -round. These fellers are the worst I ever did see. Bimeby -they’ll be wanting ice cream, jelly, chocolate, oranges, mattresses -to sleep on, and a waiter for every one. They’ll be -wanting linen shirts, kid gloves, and a boot black bimeby—I -wouldn’t be at all surprised if they should beg for ottomans, -easy-chairs and musketo-bars—not a bit. Oh, curse the day -I was fool enough to join as camp cook! Oh, every hair of -my head!”</p> - -<p>The Canadian, seeing he was in a fever, no further aggravated<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span> -him by continuing the conversation, but glancing over -the plain, said:</p> - -<p>“There are three horses yet—no, two, that are loose. Can -you throw a lariat, cook?”</p> - -<p>“No, I can’t—and what’s more, I ain’t a-going to. I’m -up every morning before daylight, cooking while you lazy -fellows are snoring; then I drive team and wash dishes at -the same time—I ain’t cross-eyed, and the result is I go slap -into some hole, then get cussed. Then at noon you fellers -roll on your lazy backs and see me cook, cook; and each one -is always wanting me to cook a dish just the way some one -else don’t want it done. Then it’s wash dishes and drive -team again all the afternoon; a cross-eyed man could do it -well enough, but <i>I</i> can’t. Then I’m washing dishes long after -every one’s asleep at night, and am expected to turn out -every morning a little after midnight and go to work, work -again. No, sir; if you want the horses brought up, you can -do it yourself, for I can’t and won’t.”</p> - -<p>“All right, Duncan. You do have a hard time, that is a -fact. Go in now, and get some sleep and I’ll try my hand -at catching the horses.”</p> - -<p>Duncan went inside and found Pedro and Mr. Wheeler -both in a semi-stupor, from different causes, while Robidoux -took a lariat and started away toward the black horse and the -mustang, Dimple.</p> - -<p>They were some two hundred yards distant, and both -grazing, though differently. The moon shone brightly, and -by its light he could see the black horse was quietly feeding, -while the mustang was restless and kept moving away from -him as if afraid of his superior size.</p> - -<p>Silence reigned over the level plain as the Canadian -walked rapidly toward them with his lariat in his hand. He -looked carefully over the plain—nothing was in sight; he was -alone on the plain in the Land of Silence.</p> - -<p>He halted, as a thought struck him, hesitated a moment, -then went on.</p> - -<p>“What if I should see the ghost the guide was talking -about?” he mused. “I begin to believe he did see one after -the strange things that have happened to-night. That Pedro -fellow they say is a brave man, but he’s scared to-night.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span> -I wonder if he saw it? I’d hate to have him ride up to me -now.”</p> - -<p>Once more he looked around on the moonlit silent plain—once -more he moved on.</p> - -<p>The black horse ceased his browsing as he drew near, and -looked at him fixedly; something at that moment occurred -to Robidoux.</p> - -<p>“Pedro’s horse is in the cave,” he whispered to himself; -“and all the others are gone except Dimple. It is strange—whose -horse can it be?”</p> - -<p>He went on and drew near. The mustang had moved -away quite a distance, and stood snorting and tossing her -mane; she was evidently affrighted—what was the matter?</p> - -<p>She was gazing at something behind him—he turned. As -he did so he uttered a sharp cry.</p> - -<p>A form was coming toward him from the hillock—a colossal -form walking rapidly. A tall hat surmounted his head, -and in the band was a waving plume; a <i>serape</i> was over his -shoulders, almost concealing his body; he was quite near, -being in fact only a rod or so distant.</p> - -<p>The Canadian knew it was not Pedro, and no man as -enormous was of the party besides him except Cimarron -Jack, and he was away. He trembled; could it be the -guide’s ghost?</p> - -<p>The man was almost upon him, and was advancing rapidly. -Seized with sudden terror, nameless but vivid, he clasped his -hands and awaited his approach. His old superstitions were -fully aroused, and he felt it was a thing to be dreaded.</p> - -<p>In five seconds he stood face to face with the whitest, -ghastliest face, the blackest, keenest eye, and the most terrifying -form he had ever seen. He knew now who it was, from -the guide’s description.</p> - -<p>Horror! he was facing, on this moonlight night, on this -bare, lonely plain, <i>the ghost of the Trailer</i>!</p> - -<p>“You are late on the plain to-night.”</p> - -<p>They were almost the very words he had spoken to the -guide. With a wild cry, and moved by his great terror, he -saw the figure stalk toward the black horse, which walked to -meet him.</p> - -<p>He stopped in the entrance and stared back, then again<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span> -shrieking, he sprung in and tightly closed the trap; he had -seen the mustang, seized with fear, scour away over the plain, -and coming toward the hillock on the stalking black horse -was the terrible, strange form—<i>the Trailer’s spirit</i>!</p> - -<p>Still shined the moon quietly down. There is dire trouble -in the Land of Silence to-night.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">A REFUGE IN TIME.</p> - -<p>Away rode the Apaches galloping south-east, leading the -captured horses behind them. In the sudden surprise and -retreat they had forgotten to retain those articles which they -had fixed their eyes on, only a few diminutive and easily-carried -articles being clung to. Their most precious prize had -been abandoned—the caddy of “black Navy”—far more -precious in their estimation than gold or ornaments. It had -been pounded, hammered, dashed against wagon hubs, but in -vain; and so, though reluctantly, they rode away minus two -braves, with two more fatally wounded, with a paltry prize of -twelve aged, heavy horses, whose best run was a mere rapid -canter, and who were incumbered with heavy, impeding -harness.</p> - -<p>Not knowing the nature or number of their foes, they -were riding away toward a part of the plain some twenty -miles distant, which was traversed by numerous and -deep <i>arroyos</i> (small chasms or deep ravines) which in their -great number and devious windings afforded excellent -shelter.</p> - -<p>Looking back, though they could not see more than -several miles in the hazy moonlight, they were certain that -they were pursued, but by whom or how many they could -not determine.</p> - -<p>They had been plundering the abandoned wagons of their -recent victorious foes—that they were aware of; but where -they had been so effectually concealed, or how many<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span> -they numbered were enigmas the shrewdest could not unravel.</p> - -<p>Moonlight still hung over the Land of Silence, and the -round full orb in the eastern zenith still shone clearly. Still -rode the savages on.</p> - -<p>Behind, but gaining, came five white men, or about one-fifth -of the savages, riding faster and quite as directly toward -the plain of the <i>arroyos</i>. The savages, as they rode over -the ground, chattered noisily—these men, too, conversed, but -gloomily.</p> - -<p>“We can not distinguish the Apaches—perhaps we are -straying from the trail,” remarked Louis Robidoux.</p> - -<p>“Ain’t nuther!” This from the guide, surlily.</p> - -<p>“How do you know?” asked Sam, spurring to the guide’s -side.</p> - -<p>“Bekase we air goin’ ter the eye-dentical place whar they’re -goin’.”</p> - -<p>“Where is that—to the ravines?”</p> - -<p>“Gulches. Dead Man’s Gulches.”</p> - -<p>“Why are they named so strangely?”</p> - -<p>“Because a man that gits in thar stands a mighty poor -show to git out again. You’ve seen them Chinese puzzles, -haven’t you?—we boys used to have them at school. The -only difference between the two is, that whar yer kin easy git -ter the center of the Gulches, you kain’t in the puzzle; but -both air mighty hard ter git out of. I’ve seen a man that -said he traveled <i>four days</i> trying ter git out, and didn’t move -a mile in the whole time. The creeks are parallel, criss-cross, -angling—every which way; and they are deep and wide. -God pity the greenhorn that gits inter them.”</p> - -<p>“I heard a Mexican tell some whopping yarns about some -Dead Man’s Gulches, but I didn’t believe him; but sence ye -say so and back him, why I’ll hev ter give in, I reckon,” remarked -Burt Scranton.</p> - -<p>“Wait till yer git thar an’ then see fur yourself,” suggested -the guide. “Durn me ef I want any truck with ’em, you hear -<span class="allsmcap">ME</span>, gran’mother?”</p> - -<p>“Then you are sure the red-skinned knaves will go to the -Gulches?” interrogatively spoke Sam.</p> - -<p>“Sartain. They’re skeered and don’t know who shot at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span> -’em. Thar’s mighty peert shelter in the Gulches, an’ that’s -whar every Apache fur miles ’round skedaddles ter when he’s -hard pressed. I’ll bet my bottom dollar we’ll be sure ter find -’em thar.”</p> - -<p>“You, too, Jack?” Cimarron Jack nodded.</p> - -<p>“Very well; how far distant are they?”</p> - -<p>“A matter of fifteen or twenty miles, p’r’aps. About two -hours’ sharp spurring.”</p> - -<p>“All right then. Spur up, boys, spur up! Here goes for -the Gulches—hurrah!”</p> - -<p>“Hurrah for Dead Man’s Gulches!” was the answer, as -on they sped.</p> - -<p>“Three and a tiger for the catamount-chewers; for the -rattlesnake-charmers; for the scorpion-eaters; and for the -cocks of the walk!” yelled Cimarron Jack, suiting the action -(the former one) to the word.</p> - -<p>They were given lustily, and the trampled herbage under -the ringing hoofs slowly raised to find that the ruthless destroyers -were passed on and were rapidly receding from -sight.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Two hours later. Now the moon was in the zenith, round, -white and gleaming, and the actors in the varying tragedy -were passing over a different landscape. The plain, though -still level, taken as a whole, was cut into many islands, capes, -peninsulas—into all manner of curious shapes by the deceitful -ravines and small creeks, called Dead Man’s Gulches.</p> - -<p>Winding in and out, slipping, crawling, and at short times -and long intervals, trotting, was a serpentine train of dusky -forms, twisting and climbing deeper and deeper into the wild -and sandy maze.</p> - -<p>Ever and anon they looked back, and some grinned sardonically, -while others frowned and fingered their tomahawks -nervously. They were looking at a small party behind who -were just entering the Gulches, a mile away, and who were -coming boldly and rapidly on in pursuit.</p> - -<p>Unlike the savages they were unincumbered with leading -horses, and were able to move much more rapidly. They -were also in Indian file and were headed by Simpson, the -guide—now a guide in a useful and important sense, for he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span> -was acquainted with many (not <i>all</i>, by any means) of the -mazes into which they were involving themselves.</p> - -<p>“Durn my hide!” he growled, as he mounted an eminence.</p> - -<p>“Gee-whiz! what a pile of ’em thar is. Gee-whittaker! -ef they’d turn and surround us in these durned gulches what -a <i>battue</i> thar’d be. A serround—it’d be the last of every mother’s -son of us.”</p> - -<p>The guide was losing his taciturnity—a sure sign he was in -earnest, and so he was.</p> - -<p>“We’d better look sharp,” resumed Jack.</p> - -<p>“Keep your eyes open all of you and see that no red rascal -leaves the main pack. The moon shines clear and we can -easily tell if any one drops into a hole.”</p> - -<p>They obeyed his instructions, and leaving the guide to find -the way, steadily watched the retreating band. Now they -would be sharply outlined against the sky, winding out of -view like a tread mill; now they would appear coursing over -a level “reach;” and again they would disappear altogether.</p> - -<p>“Cuss the place!” sharply exclaimed Burt, as his horse -slipped down a low bank. “It’s jest like the old Adirondacks, -on a small scale. I’ll bet them devils make two rods ter our -one.”</p> - -<p>“No, they don’t,” said Jack. “They are held back by our -horses—durn ’em. We’ll soon catch ’em.”</p> - -<p>“Then what will we do—they are five to our one, and all -armed with good rifles the Government gave them?” queried -Sam.</p> - -<p>“Fight—we can do nothing else. The Government didn’t -give ’em rifles—it’s the Ingun agents. They make a handsome -profit on the rifles, trading ’em for furs and the like. -The Inguns get guns and then turn round and kill whites -with them.”</p> - -<p>“But the Apaches have no agent.”</p> - -<p>“What difference does that make? The northern tribes -do—good breech-loading rifles are given them by the stand. -There’s such a thing as trade, and swop, and steal—as much -among Inguns as whites. The reservation Inguns don’t have -much use for rifles, so they trade ’em off to hostile tribes. -You bet sometime I’m going to try for an Ingun agency, then—hurrah!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span></p> - -<p>“K’rect!” came from the guide.</p> - -<p>“Hullo!” cried Burt, sharply. “The pack ain’t quite so -big as it was.”</p> - -<p>They ceased and looked ahead. Surely enough, the band -had diminished one-half at least. The remainder still kept -on, though with slackened speed. The guide stopped -short.</p> - -<p>“It’s not any use ter go much further—fust thing we -know we’ll be inter a big ambuscade. Any thing but that, -say I.”</p> - -<p>“We can keep on for three or four hundred yards yet, -Tim. They’ve stopped in some big gulch while the rest -have gone on. They will lie there to pepper us when we -come on and they won’t stir. We might get in a volley on -them, too, by riding along.”</p> - -<p>The guide cogitated for a moment. The plan seemed -feasible, and accordingly he again bent his eyes to the -ground, and the party glided in and out among the gulches.</p> - -<p>“Now, fellows, and you ’specially, Robidoux, mind your -eye. We ain’t on a bare plain, now, but in a devilish mean -place. Keep close to Simpson and have your guns cocked -and ready. Ride slow, Simpson!”</p> - -<p>“Ay, ay!” and as the guide slackened his pace they -clustered about him. Now the gulches grew narrower, -deeper, and thicker. It became difficult to climb some of -the sandy, yielding, and precipitous banks; the descents, too, -became attended with danger. Sometimes they were forced -to follow a ravine some little distance in order to find an -emerging place; then again they were obliged to ride along -a bank to find a safe descending spot. This irksome and -dangerous task was rendered doubly dangerous by the fact -that at some advanced point, they knew not where, nearly -a score of bloodthirsty and cunning Apaches lay waiting for -their scalps.</p> - -<p>The foremost band still retreated, but slowly in order -to stimulate them to greater haste, which would, of course, -be attended with a large degree of recklessness. They -were within half a mile, having lost ground, and were apparently -beating the led horses to urge their lagging steps. -But the sharp eyes of Scranton had given them timely warning,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span> -without which they would surely have run into a fatal -trap.</p> - -<p>They were now on a “reach” and had space for a fast -trot of a hundred yards or more, when they would reach -the brink of a yawning chasm, black and gloomy in its dark -and serpentine shadow. Here the guide stopped, followed -by the others.</p> - -<p>“It’s no use ter go further,” he said. “Do yer see that -big gulch ahead? Wal, yer may bet yer lives that in that -black shadder more ’n a dozen dirty ’Patchies air watchin’ -us. We’ll stop fur a change, right hyar.”</p> - -<p>“Here’s a splendid place for a stand,” said Jack, pointing -to a deep fissure adjacent.</p> - -<p>“Le’s climb for that, and if there’s any ’Patchies in the -gully, yender, ye’ll see how quick they’ll come skinning out, -when they find out we’ve found ’em out.”</p> - -<p>“And we’ll rout them out, right out,” said the Canadian, -mimicking Jack’s speech. The latter turned upon him and -grasped him by the throat.</p> - -<p>“This ain’t the first time you’ve insulted me,” he cried; -“but, by Judas, it’ll be the last.”</p> - -<p>Huff! a stream of flame shot out from the shadow, a -loud report sounded, and a bullet whistled past Jack’s head. -His timely and sudden change of position had saved his -life.</p> - -<p>Letting loose the malicious Canadian, he spurred his horse -toward the fissure.</p> - -<p>“Come on!” he cried, “we are attacked! Yonder’s the -other pack coming back to help; right down in this gully; -now, lively!”</p> - -<p>Pell-mell, helter-skelter, they dashed recklessly into the -friendly fissure, while simultaneously a hideous, blood-curdling -yell rung out from the black, shadowy gulch, and a -harmless volley sped over their heads. They were discovered -and perhaps entrapped—the fight had arrived, and they were -opposed to and harassed by, five times their number of wily, -cruel, unrelenting foes.</p> - -<p>In five minutes the “reach” was swarming with yelling, -screeching and bloodthirsty Apaches, forming to pounce -upon the devoted band below.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">A MYSTERIOUS SHOT.</p> - -<p>After the Canadian had trembled, shuddered and brooded -awhile without being alarmed by a second visitation, he -began to look into the why and the wherefore of it. To -follow his vague and erratic mind-wanderings would be a -dull task, as he was too terrified and confused to shape his -thoughts into any discernible matter.</p> - -<p>An hour perhaps passed and it was now the early morning. -In the cave the torch cast its flickering light over a -dull, gloomy scene. Pedro and Mr. Wheeler lay motionless -in a semi-stupor; Duncan muttered disjointedly in his sleep, -bewailing and cursing his hard lot; the horse of the Mexican -stood in his giant proportions quietly in a corner; and -only the Canadian was at all conscious of passing sounds and -events. These had not come—were yet to arrive; and arrive -they did in no very merry manner.</p> - -<p>All had been quiet, Duncan in his heavy sleep forgetting -to snore, when the mustang, Dimple, nickered loudly; at -the same moment Pedro turned uneasily and muttered:</p> - -<p>“The Trailer—my precious, yellow gold.”</p> - -<p>The Canadian started, and springing to his feet glanced -round in the darkness as though momentarily expecting a -second visitation of the man in the towering hat; but all -was quiet, the torch flickered weirdly, and he again sat near -the entrance.</p> - -<p>“What does he mean?” he soliloquized.</p> - -<p>“The Trailer—that means that horrible ghost. And yellow -gold—what does that mean? He has seen the specter—<i>that</i> -I am satisfied of; it accounts for his strange alarm -and apathy; but the gold, the gold—what gold does he -mean?”</p> - -<p>Another shrill nicker from Dimple outside; in his abstraction -he noted it not but went on with his soliloquy.</p> - -<p>“I have hunted the moose on Moosehead Lake, and on<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span> -the head-waters of the Penobscot; I’ve lumbered on the -Kennebec and Androscoggin; I’ve fished in the Thousand -Isles; I’ve hunted the bear in the Missouri Ozarks; but of -all the ghastly moons that ever shone, this one to-night is -the ghastliest. The very moon in the Land of Silence is -different from other moons—or the same moon at other -places. There it is white; here it is yellow, red, and sometimes -even blood-red, like a ruby. What a quiet, ghastly -place—this vast yellow wilderness; how still the air always -is; how sultry and hazy the days and dreamy the nights; -how— Halloa!”</p> - -<p>Again the mustang nickered, shriller and wilder than before. -He was about to resume, when a wild, unearthly yell -broke upon the quiet night air—a yell as if Pandemonium -had broken loose. Starting back with fear, he clasped his -hands, then ran to the entrance and flung it open.</p> - -<p>He closed it as quickly, if not sooner, as a rumbling sound -came from behind the hillock, a sound of thundering hoofs, -and the hideous yell pealed again; then, as he peeped through -a chink, he saw the cause.</p> - -<p>Riding like wild-fire, screaming and whooping, came a dozen -Indians, charging on the wagons from behind the hill. -Clustering together with tossing arms, they rode swoop -down upon them. He started down, then ran quickly to -Pedro.</p> - -<p>“Pedro—Pedro Felipe—wake up—arise; we are charged -by Apaches.”</p> - -<p>At the word Apaches Pedro rose suddenly, from sheer -habit, as his eye was vacant, and his air that of a somnambulist; -his energy was short-lived, and he sunk down again.</p> - -<p>“Pedro—for heaven’s sake get your gun; we are attacked.”</p> - -<p>“Have you seen it?”</p> - -<p>“Seen them? Yes; they are yelling outside—don’t you -hear them? Come, hurry!”</p> - -<p>“Have they got my gold?”</p> - -<p>Robidoux was sharp enough to take advantage of this question, -and he replied:</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes; all of it. Come, hurry!”</p> - -<p>Pedro needed no other incentive, but sprung from his couch<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span> -and grasped his rifle. Springing toward the door, he -hoarsely said:</p> - -<p>“Senor, here we go—altogether; <i>Caramba!</i>”</p> - -<p>Before Robidoux could stop him he had flung back the -trap-door and was standing outside, aiming at a slender -Apache just entering a wagon. The broad, dusky back of the -savage, in contrast to the moonlit, white wagon-cover, offered -a good mark; and quickly sighting, the Mexican drew the -trigger. The Apache, with a wild yell, sunk back on the -wagon-tongue and hung suspended across it, killed immediately. -This was a decidedly favorable event; for, awakened -by the sight of his habitual foe, aroused by his successful shot, -Pedro was himself again.</p> - -<p>The Canadian smiled as Pedro darted back into the cave, -at seeing a once more natural expression on his features. -Should he retain his equanimity they had but little to fear -beyond the plundering of the train, and that might be prevented -for the present, as the whole line of wagons was commanded -by the entrance.</p> - -<p>The utmost confusion prevailed among the dusky plunderers -as the fatal bullet ended their companion’s career forever. -Some darted behind wagons; some flew to their adjacent mustangs; -two clambered into a wagon; while the rest scattered -like rabbits, not knowing by whom the shot was fired, or -where the precise marksman was stationed.</p> - -<p>They were thoroughly alarmed, inasmuch as, not belonging -to Red-Knife’s band, they had accidentally fallen upon the -train. They had been surprised at not finding a human being -near the wagons; they were thunder-struck at the mysterious -shot and its fatal effect.</p> - -<p>Their alarm and surprise was somewhat dissipated very -soon by Pedro’s firing from a chink in the trap-door. He -had aimed at the prostrate form of a savage, lying on the -ground behind a wagon; the bullet struck him fairly in the -side, and, with a groan of mortal agony, he stretched himself -prone, to speedily die.</p> - -<p>Though by this shot Pedro had reduced his enemies’ number -in some degree, still, upon the whole, the shot was disadvantageous, -in this wise: when he fired, the chink being small, -the force of the explosion had carried away a portion of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span> -rotten planking, making the aperture distinctly visible from -the wagons. The lynx-eyed savages instantly discovered this, -and were instantly aware the hill was hollow—a mere shell.</p> - -<p>A grunt of relief and gratification went around the line of -skulking figures, speedily changed to one of alarm. A hole, -black and wide, suddenly appeared in the hillside; a stream -of flame shot out, a report sounded, and two savages yelled -loudly, and, with their comrades, clambered upon the wheels -in order to effectually conceal themselves, and protect their -bodies from the murderous fire.</p> - -<p>“Well done!” remarked Pedro to his companions, all of -whom had taken part in the volley. “We killed none, but -made them howl, nevertheless.”</p> - -<p>Cool, deliberate, noble Pedro was himself again—the far-famed -scout and feared Indian-fighter. Now was his brain -clear; now were his nerves steady; and the famous master -of Indian strategy was rapidly running down his No. 1 buckshot, -with eyes sparkling like a ferret’s.</p> - -<p>“Senors—sirs, fire not hastily. It is a fault with you -Americans—you are not sufficiently aware of the importance -of keeping cool. See! they have quite concealed themselves; -never mind, we are entirely safe, well ammunitioned, and able -to prevent them from plundering the wagons. Keep cool, -watch every point, and when you fire be sure and aim.”</p> - -<p>“I hope they won’t hurt any of my tin cups,” anxiously muttered -Duncan. “We haven’t got but five, and one of them -leaks. It’ll be just like ’em to go and eat all my brown -sugar up—oh, my boot-heels! if they do how I’ll get cussed. -If the President of the United States was struck by lightning -you fellers ’d cuss me, and say I was to blame.”</p> - -<p>“Less talking, senor, if you please,” gently admonished -Pedro. “‘All tongue no sand,’ as Simpson says.”</p> - -<p>A few minutes passed, and suddenly Duncan broke out -again:</p> - -<p>“Every hair of my head! Save it—oh, save it, for -heaven’s sake!”</p> - -<p>“Save what?” asked Robidoux.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you see that small stream running down through -the wagon-bottom?”</p> - -<p>“I see something dark, I think. What is it?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span></p> - -<p>“Flour! flour! Oh, save it! My boot-heels! won’t I get -a cussing when I tell ’em they can’t have any more biscuit? -Everybody ’ll swear at me: Cook, I never saw such a clumsy -bunch of darned carelessness; cook, the next time you want -buffler-chips or fire-wood you can get ’em yourself; never ask -me to pack water for you again, cook, for I won’t do it, you -careless, wasteful old cook; then Cimarron Jack, or whatever -you call him, ’ll sure desert, ’cause I couldn’t help myself -when the Injuns wasted the flour—he, a feller that don’t -get bread of any kind once a year. Oh, every hair of my -head! I’m the cussing-post for the world to swear at—me, -the camp-cook, a low, thankless dog.”</p> - -<p>“I will see they are informed of the true state of affairs, -now,” said Pedro, consolingly.</p> - -<p>Duncan burst out, in high dudgeon:</p> - -<p>“Think that ’ll do any good? think ’ee, think ’ee? Sir, I -solemnly swear it!—if you put your hand on the Bible afore -an <i>alcalde</i>, or whatever you call him, and swear—yes, sir, -swear upon your oath, they’d still cuss me and say I’m the -one to blame. Oh, curse the unlucky, miserable day I learned -to cook!</p> - -<p>“If any young man should come to me and ask me for -advice,” he resumed, after a brief pause, “perhaps I couldn’t -tell him what <i>to</i> do, but I could just naturally tell him what -<i>not</i> to do. I’d say, young man, don’t let any fellow inveigle -you into learning the pastry-cook’s trade—it ’ll be the -ruin of you. Oh, look at my flour—going all the time.”</p> - -<p>During the time in which he had been speaking, the moon -had been steadily moving on its downward, westward course, -making the wagon-shadows larger, perceptibly. Though but -little longer, they were of sufficient length to form a black -isthmus between the wagons and the most distant end of the -hill. Duncan, on stopping, observed a change come o’er the -face of the grand old strategist. From a cool, impassible -calm it had changed to an expression of positive terror, -which as quickly vanished, giving, in turn, place to a look of -moderate anxiety.</p> - -<p>Stepping to the torch, he extinguished it, gazing anxiously -to the roof before so doing. Then in the darkness he -whispered:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span></p> - -<p>“Senor Wheeler, you will be of more use in guarding -the door. Allow me to advise you to look well to it. -Men, you two place yourselves by my side, in readiness to -fire.”</p> - -<p>They did so, and he continued:</p> - -<p>“I saw, just now, the entire body of the Apaches scamper -along that longest shadow to the right. They have discovered -the hill is only a shell, and will endeavor to force -their way into it before daybreak. There are now nine of -them and they will at once go to work. There is nothing to -be feared—the moon shines so brightly that we can see the -slightest crevice they may make.”</p> - -<p>No longer they watched the wagons in the bright moonlight; -but with every confidence in their famous leader, with -hands touching his garments, they waited, looking at the small -chinks in the roof through which the white sky shone -plainly.</p> - -<p>Pedro was an infallible prophet when he prophesied, for -this reason—he never prognosticated without mature deliberation, -always ruled by existing circumstances. Men wondered -and marveled, but, superficial themselves, considered it a marvelous -power, when, like many other strange powers (?), it was -only the legitimate offspring of two healthy parents—shrewdness -and thought.</p> - -<p>In this case he was right. Before five minutes had passed, -a slight noise was heard on one side of the slanting roof, -rather low down, a grating rasping noise.</p> - -<p>“They are boring. God grant they haven’t got my -butcher-knife!” excitedly whispered Duncan, in a fever. -“Where do you think they are boring with their cussed knives -and hatchets?”</p> - -<p>Pedro chuckled.</p> - -<p>“They are working too low to reach us. There is one -part—a quarter—of the hill that is solid. They are boring at -that place, ha! ha!”</p> - -<p>The rasping continued, growing louder and harsher. The -savages were strangely bold and reckless. No other noise -was heard, only the same quick, grating sounds—grate, -grate—as the metal weapons glanced from the flinty, pebbly -soil.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span></p> - -<p>“If they were boring on this side, now, they would be -nearly through, I judge by their vigorous, rapid work,” observed -Pedro. “But, as they are at work on a solid part of -the hill, they will get through to us in about a week. Ha! -ha! Apache!” and he laughed, tauntingly.</p> - -<p>“I wonder where the others are,” interrogatively spoke -the Canadian. “They might be in trouble for all we -know.”</p> - -<p>“Near the Dead-Man’s Gulch,” replied Pedro. “I believe -they took that route in pursuit.”</p> - -<p>“They stand a slim chance of recovering the horses.”</p> - -<p>“I was not well at the time the attack was made,” and if it -had been light a blush would have been seen on Pedro’s -cheek. “How many did they number?</p> - -<p>“About thirty, I believe,” Simpson said.</p> - -<p>“Six to one—hum! Well, the odds are certainly against -them. If we were only out of this hole now, we might ride -to their assistance.”</p> - -<p>“And leave the girl—the sweet, pretty lass?”</p> - -<p>“Ah, that is a painful mystery—painful indeed. It quite -astounds me.”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Wheeler and Carpenter are well nigh crazy over it. -It is lucky in one way that these cussed Apaches have been -pestering us—they have kept their thoughts somewhat away -from her. Poor Miss Kissie! Where has she gone?”</p> - -<p>“Hark!”</p> - -<p>A loud report came to their ears, and at the same time, -though unseen by them, the working Indians, with a loud -whoop, fled from the hill. A shriek of agony at the same -time resounded from the roof, and a body dropped heavily -with a hollow sound.</p> - -<p>“By every hair of my head!” cried Duncan, “hear them -rascals skedaddle!”</p> - -<p>“Who shot?” cried Pedro. “Senor, I say, who shot?”</p> - -<p>“It came from inside the hill, I’ll take my oath to it!” declared -Robidoux.</p> - -<p>“I know it did, senor—I know it did;” and Pedro’s voice -showed he was excited. “No one shot here, and some one -shot from inside the hill and killed a savage. Who shot?”</p> - -<p>They could not tell.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">A MIRACULOUS ESCAPE.</p> - -<p>On the “reach” above the fissure in which Cimarron Jack’s -band was concealed, danced and whooped the entire band of -Apaches, eager for white blood, and, as prospects appeared, in -good chances of getting it. Conspicuous among the painted -pack stalked Red-Knife, the renegade, to and fro, cogitating -and framing a feasible plan for extermination.</p> - -<p>It needed not a very subtle brain or a very bold man to ferret -out the whites from their present position, and well he -knew it. While many plans, ideas and means gratuitously -presented themselves to his scheming head, but one was accepted—at -once the most feasible, the easiest executed, and -the one attended with the least danger—a surround.</p> - -<p>Conjectured, planned, advocated—done; so he thought, in -his inordinate self-esteem. He did not for a moment consider -that the noted “squaw from the bitter river” was thoroughly -versed in savage warfare—that he had a vast store of experience -to draw from—that he was crafty and brave as a lion. -In his vast conceit, he entirely ignored the fact, and went directly -on with putting his plan into execution.</p> - -<p>The whites were in an isolated fissure about fifteen feet in -depth by twenty wide and one hundred long, in the shape of -a horse-shoe, the party being ensconced under the bank at the -“caulk” in the concavity. Here they were safe for the present, -but a small ravine opening from the fissure, rendered -their situation precarious. This ravine played an important -part in the tragedy, for whose acts the actors were now preparing -earnestly.</p> - -<p>Where it entered the “horse-shoe” fissure, it was narrow, -being only about three feet in width, but in a hundred yards -it ran under sandy banks, and widened out to forty feet or -more. These sandy banks were crumbling and projecting, -overhanging the ravine (more properly a “draw”), they presented -an unstable footing.</p> - -<p>Red-Knife noticed this “draw,” and at once, without consulting<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span> -his chiefs, whom he ignored, commenced operations. -Detaching a party of three to take charge of the distant draft-horses, -he divided his party of twenty into two portions. One -of these he directed to creep along the shadow of a projecting -bluff until they had made half the circuit of the horse-shoe; -the other, commanded in person by himself, was to enter -the “draw,” keeping in shadow as much as possible. Halting -in the draw, they were to give a preconcerted signal, then -both parties were to prosecute a cross-fire with what arms -they possessed. Such a position would completely command -the horse-shoe fissure with its hidden occupants.</p> - -<p>“Boys,” observed Cimarron Jack, sitting on a mud-bowlder, -“this is lovely; but the thorough-bred from Tartary don’t -scare worth a cent. It takes mighty fine working to face the -grizzly domesticator—it does, for a fact.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, quit yer durned, disgustin’ braggin’! It makes me -feel ashamed of the hull human race,” growled Simpson.</p> - -<p>Cimarron Jack went on, with a sly twinkle at the guide:</p> - -<p>“In addition to my noble and manly qualities, I have the -coveted and rare faculty of insnaring women. Educated at -college, of good looks, as you can see, engaging manners, I -cast rough rowdies like this knave of a guide into the shade. -That, you see, makes ’em hot—red-hot; and when I give, as -is my custom, a brief and extremely modest synopsis of my -talents, they call it, in their vulgar way, ‘braggin’.’ I’m the -cock of the walk—hooray! I’m the scorpion and centipede -chewer—the wildcat educator—hooray!”</p> - -<p>“Faugh! it’s downright sickening. Durned ef I kain’t -lick any man that brags so!” declared the guide, with real -rising choler. “An’ ef he don’t like it he kin lump it—thet’s -Simpson, the guide.”</p> - -<p>“Dry up; what’s that?” whispered Jack. “Look out, -boys—there’s something forming. Look along that bluff yonder—I -think I see something moving there.”</p> - -<p>The half-earnest wrangle was ceased, and shading his eyes, -the guide peered, as if endeavoring to pierce the drapery of -shadow under the bluff; but if Jack saw any thing, there was -no repetition of the object. Taking his eyes from the bluff, -Cimarron Jack turned round, then uttered a suppressed -cry.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span></p> - -<p>“What is it?” sharply demanded the guide, instantly on -the alert.</p> - -<p>“Whew! look there—look yonder!”</p> - -<p>They followed the direction of his pointing finger with -their gaze. Up the draw, and in its widest part, were nearly -a dozen Apaches, or rather parts of them, moving rapidly -about. They were visible from their waists upward, and their -arms were tossing as if violently excited. The light of the -yellow moon made this a most grotesque spectacle, but an utterly -incomprehensible one to the whites, who watched them -eagerly. It appeared as if a dozen Apaches had been deprived -of their legs at the loins, and had been cast into the -draw and were tossing their arms in agony. Part of them -were upright, part bending their necks forward, while others -were bent backward; and all were gesticulating violently.</p> - -<p>It was strange, but they were all facing the west, at right -angles to the course of the draw. Though wildly gesturing, -and, as it seemed, struggling, they preserved the utmost silence, -frequently gazing toward the whites, as if fearful of attracting -their notice.</p> - -<p>“What can it mean?” asked Sam, utterly confounded. -“What does it all mean?”</p> - -<p>“I think I know,” replied Jack, after a moment’s sober -scrutiny; “don’t you, Simpson?”</p> - -<p>“Yes—think so.”</p> - -<p>“What is it?” and Robidoux’s face wore a look of the -most intense surprise.</p> - -<p>“By Jupiter—hooray! it is, it is! look, they are sinking.”</p> - -<p>It was even so! Each and all were only visible from the -breast upward, now, and their rifles, still clasped tightly, were -thrown about in wild and vehement motions; the guide uttered -a sharp exclamation.</p> - -<p>“Quicksanded—quicksanded! see—the draw is darker -than at t’other places. It’s the black sand—quicksand—hooray!”</p> - -<p>“Great Heaven!” ejaculated Carpenter. “They are sinking -into a quicksand—hurrah!”</p> - -<p>“They war makin’ a serround and got cotched—hooray!” -shouted the guide; then the voice of Cimarron Jack rung -out:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span></p> - -<p>“Give it to ’em boys—give it to ’em! aim steady till I -count three, and then—one!”</p> - -<p>Up went the guns, each man taking a struggling, sinking -savage.</p> - -<p>“Two!”</p> - -<p>A steady dead aim.</p> - -<p>“Three!”</p> - -<p>Crash—shriek! and then a cloud of dense, sluggish smoke -obscured the river. They had no more than lowered their -rifles when a shrill yell arose behind them, and a rush of feet -was heard. Cimarron Jack dropped his rifle and drew his -knife and revolver, facing round.</p> - -<p>“Draw, boys—draw! barkers and knives. A surround! -here comes t’other gang behind us—draw quick and don’t -faze!”</p> - -<p>They drew, each a knife and revolver, and faced round, -fearing nothing from the helpless band behind, some of whom -must be dead. They did so just in time.</p> - -<p>From under the projecting bluff darted nine stalwart -Apaches, knives and tomahawks in hand. They had seen -their comrades’ utter helplessness and discomfiture, and looking -over the smoke of the volley, had seen four shot and instantly -killed. Burning with rage and chagrin, they were -coming, fifty yards away, with determined faces gleaming -hideously through the red war-paint.</p> - -<p>As they rapidly drew near, Jack cried:</p> - -<p>“Work those pistols lively, boys—shoot a thousand times a -minute.”</p> - -<p>They obeyed. Crack—crack! went the pistols, and, though -excited, the aim was tolerably correct, and two Indians went -down, one killed, another disabled. Seven still came on, -though warily, facing the revolvers of the whites, Colt’s great -invention doing deadly work at a short distance. They were -running at a dog-trot, dodging and darting from side to side -to prevent any aim being taken; in another moment they -were fighting hand to hand.</p> - -<p>It was a short, deadly struggle, briefly terminated. Jack, -Simpson, and Burt fell to the ground when their respective -antagonists were nigh, avoiding the tomahawks which flew -over their heads. Then as an Apache towered over each,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span> -they rose suddenly, and throwing their entire weight and -muscle into the act, plunged their knives into the savage -breasts; the red-skins fell without a groan.</p> - -<p>It was a perilous, nice operation, and few would have -dared attempt it; but knowing if they kept their nerve and -temper they would prove victorious, they accepted the chances, -as we have seen, with the highest success. Calculating nicely, -each had about an interval of <i>two seconds</i> to work in—the interval -between the Apaches’ arrival and his downward knife-thrust.</p> - -<p>Gigantic, fiery Jack stayed not to enjoy a second and sure -thrust, but withdrawing his long knife, hastily glanced around. -Back under the bank was a man fighting desperately with two -Apaches—fighting warily, yet strongly, and in silence.</p> - -<p>It was Carpenter, cutting, thrusting, and dodging. Jack -needed but a glance to satisfy him Carpenter would soon -prove a victim to the superior prowess of the Apaches, and -with a wild hurrah sprung forward, just as Burt and the guide -were disengaging themselves from the dead bodies of their -antagonists. But, he was stopped suddenly.</p> - -<p>Covered with mud, dripping with water, and glowing with -rage and heat, a fierce, stalwart savage sprung before him, -and he knew him in a moment. It was Red-Knife—he had -escaped from the quicksand and was now preparing to strike, -his tomahawk glinting above his head.</p> - -<p>“Dog from the bitter river—squaw! ugh!” and down -went the hatchet.</p> - -<p>But not in Jack’s skull—the Indian scout was too electric -in his thoughts and movements to stand calmly and feel the -metal crash into his brain. Bending low, with the quickness -of a serpent, he darted under the savage’s arm just in -time, but he stopped not to congratulate himself upon his escape, -but turning clasped the chief round the waist and suddenly -“tripped him up.”</p> - -<p>The savage’s thigh passed before his face as the chief was -hurled backward. A stream of deep-red blood was spirting -from a wide gash in it—the momentum of the hatchet had -been so great Red-Knife had been unable to check it, and -it had entered his thigh and severed the main artery. The -blood was spirting in a large, red stream in the air, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span> -he felt the warm liquid plash and fall on his back. But he -whirled the faint chief over on his back, and with a sudden, -keen blow, drove the knife into his heart. With a last dying -look of malevolency the chief scowled on his victorious -enemy, then the death-rattle sounded in his throat—he was -dead, no longer a renegade.</p> - -<p>Jack sprung up and stood on his guard, but there was no -necessity. Short as the combat had been (only <i>three minutes</i> -in duration) it was now over, being finished as the guide -drew his knife from a convulsively twitching savage, and -wiped it on his sleeve.</p> - -<p>Save the eight prostrate savages, not an Indian was in -sight. Cool, steady, reticent Tim Simpson sheathed his knife -and picked up his gun and revolver.</p> - -<p>“Durned spry work!”</p> - -<p>He was not answered. To the majority of the band the -thought was overwhelming—that, where fifteen minutes since, -thirty cunning Apaches were surrounding them, <i>not one</i> remained -alive. For several minutes no one spoke, but all -gazed around on the battle scene.</p> - -<p>The draw above was empty—the sinking savages, foiled in -their bloody purpose, had sunk to their death. Carpenter -moodily gazed where they were last visible, and murmured:</p> - -<p>“God bless the quicksand.”</p> - -<p>“Ay, ay!” came from the others’ lips.</p> - -<p>Cimarron Jack sprung up at the “reach,” and looked -around.</p> - -<p>“Yonder go three—no, four devils, striking away for dear -life. Durn them! they’ve got enough of it this time, I’ll -bet.”</p> - -<p>“Hosses thar?” asked Simpson.</p> - -<p>“One, two, three, eight—every one of ’em.”</p> - -<p>“Le’s git out’n this, then.”</p> - -<p>“All right—before any more come down on us. Devilish -pretty work, wasn’t it?” admiringly queried Jack, looking -down on the dead bodies below. “How’d you get away with -your job, Carpenter?”</p> - -<p>“The guide and Burt came to my assistance just as I was -giving out. A minute more and it would have been too -late.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span></p> - -<p>“And you, Ruby? curse me if I don’t forgive you—you -fou’t like thunder. Two on you, wasn’t there?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; I stabbed one and the other ran off, seeing Simpson -coming for him,” modestly replied Robidoux.</p> - -<p>“Well, we’ve no time to talk. The red rascals are cleaned -out—pick up your weapons, boys, and mount your mustangs, -and we’ll get away from this hot place.”</p> - -<p>They stopped not to gaze longer upon the bloody scene, -but mounting their horses, which under the bank had bravely -stood, rode toward the deserted draft-horses. They were -easily collected, and then all rode away, just as the moonlight -was yielding to the paler but stronger one of day. Elated -with victory they left Dead Man’s Gulches (or that part of -them) with the ghastly bodies, soon to wither into dry skin -and bone, and under the paling moonlight rode away, bound -back to the Hillock.</p> - -<p>Thanks to the guide’s memory and cunning, they emerged -from the Gulches at sunrise, and struck out into the yellow -plain—safe and sound, wholly uninjured, and victorious.</p> - -<p>“Five men victorious over thirty Apaches,” cried Jack. -“A tiger-feat—Hercules couldn’t do better with Sampson and -Heenan, with fifty gorillas thrown in for variety. Three and -a tiger for the bravest, smartest, <i>handsomest</i> men in the world. -With a will, now!”</p> - -<p>With a will they were given.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">WHO SPEAKS?</p> - -<p>When at the mysterious shot and death of one of their -number, the Apaches fled down the hillock, they scuttled for -the wagons as offering the best concealment. However, their -doing so was to their loss, diminishing their number by two. -Duncan, incensed at the ruthless waste of his flour, and in -perfect keeping with his disposition, had lain in watchful -wait for an opportunity to present itself whereby he could revenge<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span> -his loss. An opportunity occurred as they fled toward -the wagons. One savage, with a scarlet diamond on his -broad back, offering a fair aim, he took advantage of it and -fired. At the same time, Pedro, ever ready to embrace any -opportunity, fired also.</p> - -<p>Both shots were successful. Duncan’s Apache threw his -arms aloft, and with a yell, plunged headlong; the other sunk -to the ground, with a sharp cry of pain, then crawled slowly -away, dragging himself painfully. But he was summarily -stopped by Duncan, who emptied one of his cylinders at him. -This was sufficient; with a last expiring scowl back upon his -foes, he settled prone upon the sand, and his soul went to the -happy hunting-grounds.</p> - -<p>“There have been strange happenings here lately,” gloomily -remarked Pedro, ramming down a bullet. “Who shot just -now—tell me that?”</p> - -<p>“Who can?” replied Mr. Wheeler. “Oh, God! if one -misfortune were not enough to bear without a mystery, deep -and black, to drive one to torments. Where is my child?” -and he buried his face in his hands.</p> - -<p>“And where is my gold—my precious, yellow treasure?” -fiercely demanded Pedro.</p> - -<p>“What misfortune can compare with mine? what agony -as great to bear? how—”</p> - -<p>Seeing his companion’s eyes fixed interrogatively upon him, -he stopped short, conscious he had been unduly excited and -heedless. Turning sharply to his peeping-place, he said:</p> - -<p>“Senors, we have lessened their number; of them there remains -but six. One or two more killed or disabled would -entirely free us, I think, from their annoying company. -Come, senors, look sharp!”</p> - -<p>Duncan and Robidoux exchanged significant glances but -said nothing, only quietly taking their places at the entrance, -leaving Mr. Wheeler stricken again by his gloomy spirits.</p> - -<p>And now faint streaks of daylight slanted across the eastern -horizon, and the yellow moonlight paled before the approach -of the predominating daylight. Perched upon the -hubs of the wagon-wheels the sullen Apaches grunted and -growled at their constant defeats, not daring to return to the -hill, and too wary to expose any part of their bodies. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span> -whites watched and waited with the eyes of a lynx and the -patience of a cat, but to no avail—both parties were afraid -to show themselves.</p> - -<p>“Hark!” suddenly cried Mr. Wheeler, springing into the -center of the cave. “What is it—who speaks?”</p> - -<p>“No one spoke, senor,” said Pedro, calmly laying his -hand on his shoulder; “you are nervous and excited, senor—lie -down and quiet yourself.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t talk to me of rest and peace—withdraw your -hand! <i>She</i> spoke—my daughter—and I will never rest until -I have found her.”</p> - -<p>In the gloomy light, his eyes shone with at once the sorrow -and anger of a wounded stag; and knowing to resist -him would be to endanger his present health, Pedro considerately -withdrew his hand. As he did so Duncan whispered:</p> - -<p>“I’ll swear I heard her voice, just then—every hair of my -head, I did.”</p> - -<p>“I too imagined I heard a soft voice, but undoubtedly it -was the band outside,” continued the Canadian. “Hark—there -it is again!”</p> - -<p>All listened. Certainly some one spoke in a soft, effeminate -voice, though so faintly that it was impossible to distinguish -the words.</p> - -<p>All listened as though petrified, so intense was the interest—Pedro -alive with hope for his gold, and the others, -more especially Mr. Wheeler, for his lost child. But there -was no repetition of the voice, and after listening for some -time they returned to the entrance gloomily.</p> - -<p>A sudden movement took place among the Apaches. -Their mustangs were grassing out on the plain some five -hundred yards distant, being some half a mile from the sorrel -mustang which avoided them. Starting suddenly from -the wagon-wheels they darted away rapidly toward their -steeds, keeping the wagons between them and the hillock, -making it impossible for the whites to aim, even tolerably.</p> - -<p>“Every hair of my sorrel head! my boot-heels! what in -Jupiter do them fellows mean? they’re getting away from -us like mad. Skunk after ’em, I reckon.”</p> - -<p>Pedro’s face lightened as he said, “There is some one approaching,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span> -possibly the party. Certainly it is some one -hostile to them, or—”</p> - -<p>He stopped short as a thought flashed over him. Could -it be possible they had seen the apparition—that he had appeared -to them? no—the idea was rejected as soon as conceived. -Not knowing the Trailer, at least that he had -been killed once, they would have promptly shot at him, -which they had not done. No—it was something else.</p> - -<p>It was not a ruse to draw them from their concealment, -as every one of the six savages was now scampering hastily -for their steeds. They had all retreated—every one; and -confident of no harm, Pedro stepped boldly out into the daylight -and the open plain.</p> - -<p>Down in this country, twilights are brief, and even now -the sun was winking over the horizon. Looking round, his -gaze fell upon a small collection of objects, directly against -the sun, a league or more distant.</p> - -<p>“Horsemen—whites.”</p> - -<p>The Canadian and his companions came out.</p> - -<p>“Horsemen, did you say?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, senor—white horsemen.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, I see—toward the east, against the sun. Coming -this way too, are they not?”</p> - -<p>“Exactly, senor.”</p> - -<p>“How do you know they are white horsemen?—there are -many of them.”</p> - -<p>“Because they ride together. Indians scatter loosely or -ride by twos. These are coming together and are leading -horses.”</p> - -<p>“Every hair on my sorrel-top but you’ve got sharp eyes!” -admiringly spoke the cook.</p> - -<p>“Experience, senor—experience. Any Mexican boy could -tell you the color of those coming horsemen. But look -over the plain; see the brave Apaches scamper toward the -south-west, whipping their tardy mustangs. They are gone, -and we need fear them no more—they will not come back -for the present. We will meet our friends—for it is they.”</p> - -<p>Of course Pedro was right—he always was; and when -the returning and elated party drew up before the hillock, -the savages had disappeared.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span></p> - -<p>They had scarcely dismounted when Mr. Wheeler appeared -from within. The old gentleman was greatly excited, -and begged them to come at once into the cave.</p> - -<p>“What’s up?” cried Jack, springing toward the entrance. -The old man, in broken tones, said he distinctly heard his -daughter’s voice in the hill, mingled with a deep, harsh one—the -voice of a man.</p> - -<p>“There must be another chamber!” Pedro shouted.</p> - -<p>“There are shovels in the wagons; get them and come on!” -echoed Sam.</p> - -<p>The shovels were quickly brought, and the whole party, -wildly excited, sprung into the cave.</p> - -<p>“Now listen!” whispered Mr. Wheeler.</p> - -<p>They did so, and distinctly heard a female voice, in pleading -tones, at one end of the first chamber.</p> - -<p>“There <i>is</i> another chamber, and here it is,” cried Jack. -“Shovel away—work and dig! Simpson, you and Scranton -go outside and see no one escapes. She’s in a third chamber, -and we’ll find her—hurrah!”</p> - -<p>“Hurrah! we’ll find her!” chorused the wild men, commencing -to dig furiously.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">TWICE DEAD.</p> - -<p>They had not long to dig, as the soil was yielding, and -the strong arms of the excited and determined men drove the -spades deep into the hillside. Men clamored to relieve each -other, and in their wild desire to force their way through, -yelled and even pitched dirt away from the workmen with -their hands. Never before had the hillock, in all its experience -of murders, robberies and crime, looked upon such a -wild, frenzied scene.</p> - -<p>Furious were the blows showered upon the mold wall—strong -the arms of the resolute, high-strung men that wielded -them, and eager the hearts that beat for rescue. Indians, fatigue,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span> -hunger—all were forgotten; and as fast as a shovelful -of dirt was cast from the blade it was thrown far back by the -rapidly moving hands of those for whom there were no -shovels.</p> - -<p>At last the foremost man, Sam, uttered a sharp cry, and -struck a furious blow at the wall; his shovel had gone through—there -was a third chamber. At the same moment a loud -report rung out inside, a woman’s voice shrieked, and Sam -staggered back, clasping his left arm above the elbow with his -right hand; some one from the inside had discharged a rifle -at him.</p> - -<p>Furious before, the excitement now had become frenzy. -Several ferocious blows were struck at the hole; it widened; -several more, and the men plunged headlong, found themselves -in a third chamber, with a body under their feet—a soft, -pliant body. Regardless of aught else, they drew it to the -gap, and recognized the features—the face—the form of—Kissie.</p> - -<p>They heard a noise, a clamor above, and ran eagerly outside, -leaving Sam, pale and sick, yet wild with delight, and -Mr. Wheeler, caressing the fair girl, who had fainted away. -It is useless to describe the scene—pen can not do it; and -knowing the reader’s imagination is far more powerful than -any description, we leave him to fancy it; it was a meeting -of intense joy.</p> - -<p>Arriving outside, the men, headed by Cimarron Jack, found -the guide and Burt engaged in a fierce struggle with a gigantic -man in a <i>serape</i>, a conical hat and black plume. Knife in -hand, backed up against the hill, with swarthy face glowing, -and black eyes sparkling, he was lunging furiously at them in -silence. Colossal in form, expert in the use of his knife, rendered -desperate by his small chances of escape, the Trailer -fought like a demon and kept his smaller opponents at bay.</p> - -<p>“Don’t kill him!” shouted Jack; “we must take him alive. -Let me in to him—stand back, boys. I know who he is—the -Trailer.”</p> - -<p>At the mention of his name, the latter turned and scowled -at him, and hoarsely cried:</p> - -<p>“Cimarron Jack—my old enemy—may you burn in ——!”</p> - -<p>Jack, dashing forward with clubbed gun, and with his huge<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span> -form towering above his companions, rushed at him. In vain -the Trailer endeavored to elude the descending weapon; in -vain he darted back; the gun descended full on his head, -knocking him backward and prone to the earth, senseless.</p> - -<p>Just then a man appeared, running, with a bag in one hand -and a long, beautiful rifle in the other; it was Pedro Felipe -with his recovered treasure, which he discovered in the new -chamber. Finding that the apparition that had haunted him -was none other than the ex-robber lieutenant, and that, like -himself, he was probably in search of the treasure, he had -burned with rage at his theft and crime, and was now seeking -his life.</p> - -<p>“Dog of a robber—fit associate for your old captain; coward, -villain, I have come for your blood! Where is he? Let -me reach him.”</p> - -<p>But they held him back firmly, and after being made cognizant -of Cimarron Jack’s desire to keep him alive, he calmed -himself, and proceeded to bind the senseless robber securely. -This he did with his lariat, which he brought from inside, -keeping the precious bag with him wherever he went. Then -after he had bound him fast, and given the body a slight -spurn with his foot, he said:</p> - -<p>“When he recovers, we will kill him.”</p> - -<p>“When the Trailer recovers, he will be shot dead!” added -Cimarron Jack.</p> - -<p>“Ay, ay!” was the general response.</p> - -<p>“All right, boys—let us go and see the pretty girl, and -leave the two Robidouxs to stand guard over him. My eye; -ain’t she beautiful, though?”</p> - -<p>“You bet!” responded Burt, proudly.</p> - -<p>Inside they found Kissie quite recovered, with her father -and young Carpenter sitting jealously by her. Though pale -and thin, she, in her joy, looked, to the eyes of the men, -more charming than ever before.</p> - -<p>What had come to pass? Was a revolution about to -arise? for when she signified she was very hungry, Duncan -stirred hastily about, actually glad of a chance to cook. Mind -that—actually glad. As all were hungry, he was forced -to call upon the men for assistance, services which they gladly -rendered, and soon the savory odor of cooking filled the cave.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span></p> - -<p>“So he gave you enough to eat, did he, my daughter?” -asked Mr. Wheeler, gazing fondly into her face.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, plenty; and a warm, soft blanket to sit upon; -and he was kind, too—only sometimes he would rave to himself, -stricken by remorse.”</p> - -<p>“Did he maltreat you in any manner?” fiercely demanded -Carpenter.</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, not at all. He was away most of the time; and -when he was present he always kept busy counting a splendid—oh, -so lovely!—treasure he had; all gold, and jewels and -ornaments—an immense sum they must be worth.”</p> - -<p>“That is what brought Pedro here, then,” remarked -Sam; “he has the bag, now, outside, where he is guarding -the Trailer.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Pedro was so good to me. When he went out to tell -you I was here, that horrid man stole in by a secret passage, -snatched the bag from a small hole, then put out the torch -and carried me in here. His horse he kept there, and sometimes -he would get stubborn and try to kick me; then -you should have seen him beat him. Once some Indians -tried to cut their way through to us and he shot and killed -one.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, he lies outside now. We heard the shot, and it -mystified us,” remarked Napoleon Robidoux.</p> - -<p>“That villain caused us enough trouble,” said Burt. “I’m -downright glad he has lost the gold—Pedro has fairly -earned it.”</p> - -<p>“So he has,” was the cry.</p> - -<p>A shout came from without, in Pedro’s voice:</p> - -<p>“Come out—come out!”</p> - -<p>Expecting Indians, all rushed out but Sam and Mr. -Wheeler, the former being disabled by the bullet of the -Trailer, which had passed through his arm, though not breaking -it. When they arrived outside they found the Mexican -glowering over the ex-robber, who had recovered his senses, -and was now scowling upon the party. The blow from the -rifle had not proved a very forcible one, as a large “bunch” -on his head was the only sign of it.</p> - -<p>“Now he has recovered, we will shoot him at once!” and -Pedro’s eyes sparkled.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span></p> - -<p>“Ay, ay—take him out!” was the unanimous cry.</p> - -<p>The Trailer scowled.</p> - -<p>All of these men had seen “Judge Lynch,” and many had -assisted him. Following the order of the age, they did not -hesitate, but proceeded at once to business.</p> - -<p>They took him from the hillock, from the side of the -savage he had slain, and among other red corpses scattered -about they placed him upon his feet. He immediately lay -down.</p> - -<p>“Get up!” commanded Pedro, who was the acknowledged -chief.</p> - -<p>The robber only scowled in reply.</p> - -<p>“Get up, and die like a man and not like a cowering -hound!” urged Jack.</p> - -<p>This had the effect desired, and the Trailer rose.</p> - -<p>“Now, senors, load your rifles!”</p> - -<p>“They are all loaded.”</p> - -<p>“It is well. Have you any thing to say, Trailer?”</p> - -<p>No answer save a scowl.</p> - -<p>“It is your last chance. Again, have you any thing to -say?”</p> - -<p>“<i>Si: car-r-ramba!</i>”</p> - -<p>“It is enough. Take him out.”</p> - -<p>He was placed now in the open plain, facing the hillock. -The men drew up in line, not twenty feet distant.</p> - -<p>“Are you all ready, senors?” asked Pedro, aiming at the -victim’s heart.</p> - -<p>“We are ready.”</p> - -<p>“It is good. Aim well, each at his heart. I will count -three. One.”</p> - -<p>The Trailer’s face was a trifle paler now, but his scowl was -blacker and more malignant.</p> - -<p>“Two!”</p> - -<p>The Trailer stood firm. Along the line of men eying -his heart he saw no look of mercy, nor look of pity; only a -settled determination to execute the law of “Judge Lynch.”</p> - -<p>Dead silence.</p> - -<p>“Three!”</p> - -<p>The Trailer fell flat on his face. Lifting him up they -found him dead—twice dead—but now forever on earth.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span></p> - -<p>Our tale is ended. Cimarron Jack, with many good -wishes and blessings from his true friends, at length tore himself -away, and rode off toward the Colorado River, to which -place he was <i>en route</i>, long to be remembered by those he had -befriended. Simpson parted with Pedro much against his -will, but was consoled by the latter’s promising to meet him -on the Colorado. Then he, Pedro, and Cimarron Jack were -to unite, and well armed and equipped were to penetrate to -the ruins of the old Aztecans—a much talked of, but rarely -seen, country. They underwent many marvelous and perilous -adventures, but we have not space to relate them.</p> - -<p>Pedro was rich—enormously rich—and on returning safely -to his “sunny land” was joyfully welcomed back, and congratulated -upon his success. God bless him, say we.</p> - -<p>When the party arrived at Fort Leavenworth, as they safely -did, there was a wedding, and a joyful one it was, too, Sam, -of course, being the happy groom. There the party separated, -all but Duncan and Simpson continuing their journey -east.</p> - -<p>Strange to say, Duncan—grumbling, unhappy Duncan—went -back with Simpson, in order to explore the Great Colorado -Canon with the three Indian-fighters, in the capacity of <i>camp-cook</i>. -He was unhappy, of course, and he had no cooking -conveniences; but managed to assume complete mastery over -his strangely-assorted companions, and to keep them alive -with his original observations and half sulky grumblings.</p> - -<p>THE END.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_ILLUMINATED_DIME">THE ILLUMINATED DIME -POCKET NOVELS!</h2> -</div> - -<p class="h2sub">PUBLISHED SEMI-MONTHLY.</p> - -<p>Comprising the best works only of the most popular living writers in the field -of American Romance. Each issue a complete novel, with illuminated cover, -rivaling in effect the popular chromo,</p> - -<p class="center sans-serif"><b>And yet Sold at the Standard Price—Ten Cents!</b></p> - -<p>Incomparably the most beautiful and attractive series, and the most delightful -reading, ever presented to the popular reading public.</p> - -<p>Distancing all rivalry, equally in their beauty and intrinsic excellence as romances, -this new series will quickly take the lead in public favor, and be regarded -as the Paragon Novels!</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<h3 class="sans-serif">NOW READY, AND IN PRESS.</h3> - -<ul> -<li><b>No. 1</b>—<b>Hawkeye Harry, the Young Trapper Ranger.</b> By Oll Coomes.</li> -<li><b>No. 2</b>—<b>Dead Shot</b>; or, The White Vulture. By Albert W. Aiken.</li> -<li><b>No. 3</b>—<b>The Boy Miners</b>; or, The Enchanted Island. By Edward S. Ellis.</li> -<li><b>No. 4</b>—<b>Blue Dick</b>; or, The Yellow Chief’s Vengeance. By Capt. Mayne Reid.</li> -<li><b>No. 5</b>—<b>Nat Wolfe</b>; or, The Gold-Hunters. By Mrs. M. V. Victor.</li> -<li><b>No. 6</b>—<b>The White Tracker</b>; or, The Panther of the Plains. By Edward S. Ellis.</li> -<li><b>No. 7</b>—<b>The Outlaw’s Wife</b>; or, The Valley Ranche. By Mrs. Ann S. Stephens.</li> -<li><b>No. 8</b>—<b>The Tall Trapper</b>; or, The Flower of the Blackfeet. By Albert W. Aiken.</li> -<li><b>No. 9</b>—<b>Lightning Jo, the Terror of the Santa Fe Trail.</b> By Capt. Adams.</li> -<li><b>No. 10</b>—<b>The Inland Pirate.</b> A Tale of the Mississippi. By Captain Mayne Reid.</li> -<li><b>No. 11</b>—<b>The Boy Ranger</b>; or, The Heiress of the Golden Horn. By Oll Coomes.</li> -<li><b>No. 12</b>—<b>Bess, the Trapper.</b> A Tale of the Far South-west. By Edward S. Ellis.</li> -<li><b>No. 13</b>—<b>The French Spy</b>; or, The Fall of Montreal. By W. J. Hamilton.</li> -<li><b>No. 14</b>—<b>Long Shot</b>; or, The Dwarf Guide. By Capt. Comstock.</li> -<li><b>No. 15</b>—<b>The Gunmaker of the Border.</b> By James L. Bowen.</li> -<li><b>No. 16</b>—<b>Red Hand</b>; or, The Channel Scourge. By A. G. Piper.</li> -<li><b>No. 17</b>—<b>Ben, the Trapper</b>; or, The Mountain Demon. By Maj. Lewis W. Carson.</li> -<li><b>No. 18</b>—<b>Wild Raven, the Ranger</b>; or, The Missing Guide. By Oll Coomes.</li> -<li><b>No. 19</b>—<b>The Specter Chief</b>; or, The Indian’s Revenge. By Seelin Robins.</li> -<li><b>No. 20</b>—<b>The B’ar-Killer</b>; or, The Long Trail. By Capt. Comstock.</li> -<li><b>No. 21</b>—<b>Wild Nat</b>; or, The Cedar Swamp Brigade. By Wm. R. Eyster.</li> -<li><b>No. 22</b>—<b>Indian Jo, the Guide.</b> By Lewis W. Carson.</li> -<li><b>No. 23</b>—<b>Old Kent, the Ranger.</b> By Edward S. Ellis.</li> -<li><b>No. 24</b>—<b>The One-Eyed Trapper.</b> By Capt. Comstock.</li> -<li><b>No. 25</b>—<b>Godbold, the Spy.</b> A Tale of Arnold’s Treason. By N. C. Iron.</li> -<li><b>No. 26</b>—<b>The Black Ship.</b> By John S. Warner.</li> -<li><b>No. 27</b>—<b>Single Eye, the Scourge.</b> By Warren St. John.</li> -<li><b>No. 28</b>—<b>Indian Jim.</b> A Tale of the Minnesota Massacre. By Edward S. Ellis.</li> -<li><b>No. 29</b>—<b>The Scout.</b> By Warren St. John.</li> -<li><b>No. 30</b>—<b>Eagle Eye.</b> By W. J. Hamilton.</li> -<li><b>No. 31</b>—<b>The Mystic Canoe.</b> A Romance of a Hundred Years Ago. By Edward S. Ellis.</li> -<li><b>No. 32</b>—<b>The Golden Harpoon</b>; or, Lost Among the Floes. By Roger Starbuck.</li> -<li><b>No. 33</b>—<b>The Scalp King.</b> By Lieut. Ned Hunter.</li> -<li><b>No. 34</b>—<b>Old Lute, the Indian-fighter</b>; or, The Den in the Hills. By E. W. Archer.</li> -<li><b>No. 35</b>—<b>Rainbolt, the Ranger</b>; or, The Ærial Demon of the Mountain. By Oll Coomes.</li> -<li><b>No. 36</b>—<b>The Boy Pioneer.</b> By Edward S. Ellis.</li> -<li><b>No. 37</b>—<b>Carson, the Guide</b>; or, the Perils of the Frontier. By Lieut. J. H. Randolph.</li> -<li><b>No. 38</b>—<b>The Heart Eater</b>; or, The Prophet of the Hollow Hill. By Harry Hazard.</li> -<li><b>No. 39</b>—<b>Wetzel, the Scout</b>; or, The Captives of the Wilderness. By Boynton Belknap, M. D.</li> -<li><b>No. 40</b>—<b>The Huge Hunter</b>; or, The Steam Man of the Prairies. By Edward S. Ellis.</li> -<li><b>No. 41</b>—<b>Wild Nat, the Trapper.</b> By Paul Prescott.</li> -<li><b>No. 42</b>—<b>Lynx-cap</b>; or, The Sioux Track. By Paul Bibbs.</li> -<li><b>No. 43</b>—<b>The White Outlaw</b>; or, The Bandit Brigand. By Harry Hazard.</li> -<li><b>No. 44</b>—<b>The Dog Trailer.</b> By Frederick Dewey. Ready</li> -<li><b>No. 45</b>—<b>The Elk King.</b> By Capt. Chas. Howard. Ready</li> -<li><b>No. 46</b>—<b>Adrian, the Pilot.</b> By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Ready March 28th.</li> -<li><b>No. 47</b>—<b>The Man-hunter.</b> By Maro O. Rolfe. Ready April 11th.</li> -</ul> - -<p>☞ <span class="smcap">Beadle’s Dime Pocket Novels</span> are always in print and for sale by all newsdealers; or will be sent, -post-paid, to any address: single numbers, ten cents; six months (13 Nos.) $1.25; one year (26 Nos.) $2.50. -Address,</p> - -<p class="center">BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> -<div class="chapter transnote"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Transcribers_Notes"> -Transcriber’s Notes -</h2> - -<p>A number of typographical errors were corrected silently.</p> - -<p>Cover image is in the public domain.</p> - -<p>Duplicate chapter numbered VI renumbered to XIII.</p> - -</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PHANTOM TRACKER; OR THE PRISONER OF THE HILL CAVE ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. -</div> - -<div style='margin-top:1em; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE</div> -<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE</div> -<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em'>PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person -or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when -you share it without charge with others. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: -</div> - -<blockquote> - <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most - other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions - whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms - of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online - at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you - are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws - of the country where you are located before using this eBook. - </div> -</blockquote> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format -other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain -Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -provided that: -</div> - -<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation.” - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ - works. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. - </div> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right -of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state -visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. -</div> - -</div> -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/68300-h/images/cover-small.jpg b/old/68300-h/images/cover-small.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 2d9a000..0000000 --- a/old/68300-h/images/cover-small.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/68300-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/68300-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4907dad..0000000 --- a/old/68300-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null |
