Told in the Hills: A Novel

by Marah Ellis Ryan

  CHAPTER II.

  A PHILOSOPHICAL HORSE-THIEF.

  An hour before dawn the wind came, hurtling down through the mountainsand moaning along the valleys; before it drove the flying snow in greatchilly sheets, as it was lifted from the high places and spread in everynook that would warrant its safe-keeping.

  Through its fitful gusts Genesee walked into camp, his tracks filled bythe eager flakes as he left them. There seemed a strange alertness aboutthe place, for so early an hour--even through the commotion, blissfuland despairing, in his own breast, he noticed it as the guard hailedhim, and when he replied, he heard from that individual an excitedexclamation of astonishment.

  "By jolly, if it ain't Genesee!"

  "I reckon it is," he answered, and passed on, too tired, yet elated byhis night's work, to care whether or not his absence had been commentedon.

  The door of the shack had barely closed on him when one of the severallanterns that he had noticed floating like stars along the snow stoppedat his door, then a knock, and the entrance of a very wide-awake lookingcorporal.

  "You are to report to Captain Holt at once," was the message he brought.

  "What's up?" and the boot that was half-way off was yanked on again.

  "That's all the message I was given."

  "The hell you say! Well, trot along."

  His own frowning perplexity was no more decided than that of CaptainHolt, as he looked up to notice the entrance of the scout--and there waslittle of friendliness in the look.

  "You sent a man to say you wanted me."

  "Yes, I sent a man about two hours ago to say I wanted you," was theironical reply. "You were not to be found. Have you any report to make?"

  "Not that I know of," he said curtly. A sort of quiet antagonism hadalways been felt between the chief of scouts and the new commander, butthis was the first time any expression had been given it, and Genesee'sintolerance quickly responded to the manner of the officer that had init both dislike and distrust.

  "Then you refuse to tell me where you spent the night?"

  The light in Genesee's eyes flashed sudden defiance.

  "Yes; if it comes to that, and that's the way you put it, I do."

  "You had better think twice before you give that answer," advisedCaptain Holt, his face paling with anger at the insubordination; "andanother question to be put to you is, Where is the half-breed, yourrunner?"

  "I don't know as that concerns you, either," answered Genesee coolly."He is my Indian, and neither of us belonging to the United States Army,we can leave camp when it suits us. But I don't mind telling you I senthim to Holland's yesterday."

  "For what purpose?"

  "My own business."

  "The same thing that took you from camp at three yesterday and kept youout all night?"

  "Just so."

  "Then, since you refuse to answer a very necessary question, youmay--until I have an opportunity of investigating an absence that is, tosay the least, suspicious--you may consider yourself under arrest."

  "What in--"

  "For horse-stealing," finished the Captain calmly.

  Genesee's hand dropped to his belt in a suggestive manner, and from thedoor two guards stepped forward. He turned to look at them, and theridiculous idea of his arrest quelled the quick rage that had flashed upin his face.

  "You needn't have troubled yourself with these protectors," he remarked,"for I reckon there isn't much I'd want to do that they would stop mefrom; and as for you--this is a piece of dirty work for some end. I'mready to be put under arrest, just to see some fun when your commandergets back. And now may be you'll just tell me whose horse I stole?"

  "It is not one horse, but one-half the stock belonging to the company,that was run off by your Kootenai friends last night," replied CaptainHolt grimly; "and as your disappearance was likely helpful to them, anda matter of mystery to the command, you will be debarred from visitingthem again until the matter is investigated. Even the explanation ismore than your insolence deserves. You can go back to your quarters."

  "It's an infernal lie!" burst out Genesee wrathfully. "No Kootenaitouched your stock. It's been some thieving Blackfeet and their whitefriends; and if you interfere with the Kootenais, and try to put it ontheir shoulders, you'll get yourself in trouble--big trouble."

  "When I want your advice, I will ask for it," was the natural reply tothe contradiction and half threat. Genesee walked to the door with theguards, and turning, came back.

  "Captain Holt," with more of appeal in manner than one would look for inhim, "I'm ready to take my chances in this business, and I'm not tryingto give advice, but I'm going to ask you, on the reputation you know Ihave in Indian matters, to be mighty careful what you do or what you letthe men do toward the Kootenai people. They're only waiting the Major'sreturn to send word to camp that their arms and fighting braves arewilling to help the troops against the Blackfeet if they're needed. Iknow it. Their messenger is likely to come any day; and it will be a badthing for our cause if their friendliness is broken by this suspicion."

  "Your cause?"

  "No, I haven't got any," he retorted. "I'm not talking for myself--I'mout of it; but I mean the cause of lives here in the valley--the liveson both sides--that would be lost in a useless fight. It's all useless."

  "And you acknowledge, then, that you don't consider the cause of thewhites as your own cause?" asked the Captain quietly.

  "Yes!" he burst out emphatically, "I'll own up to you or anyone else; somake me a horse-thief on that, if you can! I'd work for the reds quickerthan for you, if there was anything to be gained by fighting for them;but there isn't. They'd only kill, and be killed off in the end. If I'veworked on your side, it's been to save lives, not to take them; and ifI've got any sympathies in the matter, it's with the reds. They've beendogged to death by your damned 'cause.' Now you've got my ideas in anut-shell."

  "Yes," agreed the Captain sarcastically, "very plainly expressed. Toestablish entirely your sympathy with your red friends, it only remainsfor you to be equally frank and report your movements of last night."

  "Go to hell and find out;" and with this climax of insubordination, thescout left the presence of the commanding officer and marched back tohis shack, where he took possession of the bunk and was sound asleep infive minutes, and altogether undisturbed by the fact that a guard wasstationed at the door of the impromptu prison with orders to shoot himif an attempt to escape was made.

  Captain Holt's leniency with the scout, who simply ignored military ruleand obedience in a place where it was the only law, was, for him,phenomenal.

  The one thing in Genesee's favor was his voluntary return to camp; anduntil he learned what scheme was back of that, the Captain was obliged,with the thought of his superior officer in mind and the scout'simportance, to grant him some amenities, ignore his insolence, andcontent himself with keeping him under guard.

  The guard outside was not nearly so strong in its control of Genesee asthe bonds of sleep that held him through the morning and well-nigh highnoon. He had quickly summed up the case after his interview with Holt,and decided that in two days, at most, the Major would be back, and thatthe present commander would defer any decided movement toward theKootenais until then. As for the horses, that was a bad business; but ifthey chose to put him under arrest, they plainly took from him theresponsibility of hunting for stock. So he decided, and in the freedomfrom any further care, dropped asleep. Once a guard came in with somebreakfast, which he ate drowsily, and turned again to his pillow.

  "When that fool, the commanding officer, concludes to let up on thisarrest, there's likely to be some work to do--I'll fortify myself whileI have the chance;" and that determination, added to his exhaustion,served to make his rest a very deliberate affair, not to be disturbed bytrifles.

  Several things occurred during that winter's morning that were far fromtrifling; yet no sound of them came to him, not even when a shot on theridge echoed across the valley, and ten minutes later was followed bysevera
l more, accompanied by yells, heard faintly, but clearly enough totell that a skirmishing party was having a shooting-match with someoneacross the hills. In three minutes every horse left in camp was mountedand scurrying fast as their feet could carry them through the drifts,while the horseless ones, whose stock had been run off in the muffledsilence of the snow-storm, remained unwillingly behind.

  At the end of the avenue Lieutenant Murray caught sight of Stuart andHardy, riding toward camp. There was a hallooed invitation to join,another of acceptance, and the civilians joined the irregular cavalcadeand swept with them over the hill, where the sounds of shots weregrowing fainter--evidently a retreat and a chase--toward which they rodeblindly.

  Through all of it their chief of scouts slept unconcernedly; a solid tenhours of rest was taken possession of before he aroused himself to carewhether it was daylight or darkness.

  "Major come yet?" was the first query.

  "No."

  "Am I still under arrest?"

  "Yes."

  "Then bring me something to eat. Past chuck?"

  On being informed that the midday meal had been ended two hours before,his next query was whether anyone from the ranch had been to camp; butthe guard thought not--a reply most grateful to the prisoner.

  "Suppose you tell me something about the horses being run off," hesuggested. "Oh, yes, I reckon I'm supposed to know all about it," headded; "but, just to pass the time, suppose you tell me your side ofit."

  There was not much to tell. Hardy's men had been riding around afterstray stock until late; had passed camp after ten o'clock. About one inthe morning the snow was falling thick; a little racket was heard in thelong shed where the horses were tied, and the sentry, thinking some ofHardy's stray stock had wandered in there, tramped around with a lightto see what was wrong. He had barely reached the end of the corral whensomeone from behind struck him over the head. In falling, his gun wasdischarged; and when investigations were made, it was found that nearlyhalf the horses, about forty head, had been quietly run off through thesnow, and the exploded gun was all that saved the rest.

  The trail was hot, and pursuit began, but the thieves evidently knew thecountry, while the troops did not; and every moment lost in consultationand conjecture was gained by the people ahead, until the wind rose andthe trail was buried in the snow.

  The followers had only returned to camp a few minutes before Genesee wasreported back; but the man surmised that if the troops did not get thehorses, they were taking their pay out of the hides of the red-skins.

  "How's that?" demanded Genesee, with the quick, perplexed frown that wasas much anxiety as displeasure.

  "Well, a young cub of a Siwash came a-riding along to camp about noon,as large as life and independent as a hog on ice, and Denny Claflin--youknow him, his horse was roped in by them last night--well, he called thebuck to halt, as he'd a perfect right to do, and got no more notice thanif the wind had whistled. Denny hates an Injun as the devil does holywater, and being naturally riled over last night, he called to halt, orhe'd fire. Well, Mr. Siwash never turned his head, and Denny let himhave it."

  "Killed him?"

  "Dead as a door-nail. Right over the ridge north. Our boys were justcoming in, after skirmishing for signs from last night. They heard theshot, and rode up; and then, almost before they saw them, some ambushedInjuns burst out on them like all-possessed. They'd come with the youngone, who was sent ahead, you see. Well, there was a go-as-you-pleasefight, I guess, till our men got out from camp, and chased them so farthey haven't showed up since. Some of us went out afoot to the ridge,and found the dead buck. We buried him up there, and have been keepingan eye open for the boys ever since."

  "Did Captain Holt go?"

  "You bet! and every other man that had a horse to go on; even that Mr.Stuart and Hardy from the ranch went."

  "And they haven't showed up?"

  "Naw."

  No more questions were asked, and the guard betook himself to his pipeand enjoyment of the warm room, for intense cold had followed in thewake of the snow.

  And the prisoner? The man on watch eyed dubiously the dark face as itlounged on the bunk. Aroused and refreshed by rest, he drifted away fromthe remembrance of his prison by living over with tender eyes thevictory of the night before. Once he had seen it was possible for her tocare for him--that once of a year ago, before she knew what he was; butlately--well, he thought her a plucky, cool-headed girl, who wouldn't goback on a friend, and her stanchness had shown that; but the very frankand outspoken showing had taken from him any hope of the warmer feelingthat had existed in the old days, when she had likened him to aLauncelot in buckskin. The hope? His teeth set viciously as he thoughtof it as a hope. What right had he for such a wish? What right had he tolet go of himself as he had done, and show her how his life was bound upin hers? What a hopeless tangle it was; and if she cared for him, itmeant plainly enough that he was to repay her by communicating itshopelessness to her.

  If she cared! In the prosaic light of day he even attempted to tellhimself that the victory of the night might have been in part adelusion; that she had pitied him and the passion she had raised, and sohad stooped from the saddle. Might it not have been only that? Hisreason told him--perhaps; and then all the wild unreason in the manturned rebel, and the force of a tumultuous instinct arose and tookpossession of him--of her, for it gave her again into his arms, and thelaws of people were as nothing. She was his by her own gift; the rest ofthe world was blotted out.