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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. 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