The Silver Canyon: A Tale of the Western Plains

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by George Manville Fenn


  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

  MOURNING LOST FRIENDS.

  The failure of the Beaver and his follower to put in an appearance madeBart's heart sink down like lead, while Joses turned to him with a dulllook of misery in his eye.

  "It's bad, Master Bart," he said; "it's very bad. I hates all Indiansas hard as ever I can hate 'em, but somehow the Beaver and me seemed toget on well together, and if I'd knowed what was going to happen, itisn't me as would have come away and left him in the lurch."

  "No, Joses, neither would I," said Bart, bitterly. "But do you think--"

  "Do I think he has escaped, my lad?" said Joses, sadly, for Bart couldnot finish his speech; "no, I don't. The savage creatures came upon himsudden, or they knocked him over with a bullet, and he has died like anIndian warrior should."

  "No," said a sharp voice behind them; and the interpreter stood therewith flashing eyes gazing angrily at the speakers. "No," he criedagain, "the Beaver-with-Sharp-Teeth is too strong for the miserableApache. He will come back. They could not kill a warrior like that."

  "Well, I hope you're right, Mr Interpreter," growled Joses. "I hopeyou are right, but I shall not believe it till I see him come."

  There was no time for further conversation, the approach of the enemiesbeing imminent. On the one side, far out on the plain, were scatteredbodies of the Apaches, evidently in full war-paint, riding about in somekind of evolution; and, as the Doctor could see with his glass, for themost part armed with spears.

  Some of the men bore the strong short bow that had been in use amongthem from time immemorial, and these could be made out by the thickquiver they had slung over their backs. But, generally speaking, eachIndian carried a good serviceable rifle, pieces of which they could makedeadly use.

  At present there seemed to be no intention of making an immediateattack, the Indians keeping well out in the plain beyond the reach ofrifle-ball, though every now and then they gathered together, and as ifat the word of command, swept over the ground like a whirlwind, andseemed bent upon charging right up to the mountain.

  This, however, they did not do, but turned off each time and rode backinto the plain.

  "Why do they do that, Joses?" said Bart, eagerly.

  "To see all they can of our defences, my lad. They'll come on foot atlast like the others are doing, though I don't think they'll manage avery great deal this time."

  For the party from the canyon, now swollen to nearly fifty men, wereslowly approaching from the direction of the chimney, and making use ofevery tuft, and bush, and rock, affording Bart a fine view from thegallery of the clever and cunning means an Indian will adopt to getwithin shot of an enemy.

  They had crept on and on till they were so near that from thehiding-place in the gallery which protected the cattle Joses could haveshot them one by one as they came along, the men being quite ignorant ofthe existence of such a defence, as nothing was visible from the face ofthe rock.

  "I shan't fire so long as they don't touch the horses or the cattle,"said Joses, "though perhaps I ought to, seeing how they have killed ourbest friend. Somehow, though, I don't feel to like shooting a manbehind his back as it were. If they were firing away at us the thingwould be different. I could fire them it back again then prettysharply, I can tell you!"

  Joses soon had occasion to use his rifle, for, finding themselvesunmolested, the Indians took advantage of every bit of cover they couldfind; and when this ceased, and there was nothing before them but apatch of open plain, they suddenly darted forward right up to the cattlecorral, the tracks of the animals going to and fro plainly telling themthe entrance, as the odour did the men who had crept up by night.

  Reaching this, they made a bold effort to get an opening big enough forthe cattle to be driven out; but without waiting for orders, the Indiansin the rock gallery opened fire, and Joses and Bart caught theinfection, the latter feeling a fierce kind of desire to avenge hisfriend the Beaver.

  The rifle-shots acted like magic, sending the Apaches back to cover,where they began to return the fire briskly enough, though they did nomore harm than to flatten their bullets, some of which droppedharmlessly into the rifle-pits, and were coolly appropriated by theBeaver's followers for melting down anew.

  "Don't shoot, my lads," said Joses before long; "it is only wastingammunition. They are too well under cover. Let them fire away as longas they like, and you can pick up the lead as soon as they are gone."

  The interpreter told his fellows Joses' words, and they ceased firingwithout a moment's hesitation, and crouched there with their whitefriends, listening to the loud crack of the Apaches' rifles, and thealmost simultaneous _fat_! of the bullet against the rock.

  Not a man in the gallery was injured in the slightest degree, while, assoon as he had got over a sort of nervous feeling that was the result ofbeing shot at without the excitement of being able to return the fire,Bart lay watching the actions of the Apaches, and the senseless way inwhich they kept on firing at the spots where they fancied that theirenemies might be.

  The cover they had made for was partly scrubby brush and partly massesof stone lying singly in the plain, and it was curious to watch anIndian making his attack. First the barrel of his rifle would beprotruded over some rugged part of the stone, then very slowly a featheror two would appear, and then, if the spot was very closely watched, anarrow patch of brown forehead and a glancing eye could be seen. Thenwhere the eye had appeared was shut out by the puff of white smoke thatsuddenly spirted into the air; and as it lifted, grew thin, and diedaway, Bart could see that the barrel of the rifle had gone, and itsowner was no doubt lying flat down behind the piece of rock, whichlooked as if no Indian had been near it for years.

  Five minutes later the muzzle of the rifle would slowly appear fromquite a different part, and so low down that it was evident the Apachewas lying almost upon his face. This time perhaps Bart would note thatall at once a little patch of dry grass would appear, growing up as itwere in a second, as the Indian balanced it upon the barrel of hispiece, making it effectually screen his face, while it was thin and openenough for him to take aim at the place from whence he had seen flashesof fire come.

  Bart saw a score of such tricks as this, and how a patch of sage-brush,that looked as if it would not hide a prairie dog began to send outflashes of fire and puffs of smoke, telling plainly enough that therewas an Indian safely ensconced therein.

  The Apaches' attitudes, too, excited his wonder, for they fired facedownwards, lying on their sides or their backs, and always from placeswhere there had been no enemy a minute before; while, when he was wearyof watching these dismounted men at their ineffective toil, there weretheir friends out in the plain, who kept on swooping down after leavingtheir spears stuck in the earth a mile away. They would gallop towithin easy range, and then turning their horses' heads, canter alongparallel with the mountain, throw themselves sidewise on the flank oftheir horse farthest from the place attacked, take aim and fire beneaththe animal's neck, their own bodies being completely hidden by thehorse. It is almost needless to say that the shots they fired never didany harm, the position, the bad aim, and the motion of the horse beingsufficient to send the bullets flying in the wildest way, either intothe plain or high up somewhere on the face of the rock.

  All at once this desultory, almost unresisted attack came to an end, asa fresh body of Indians cantered up; many of the latter leading horses,to which the attacking party from the canyon now made their way; andjust at sundown the whole body galloped off, without so much as givingthe beleaguered ones a farewell shot.

  Bart watched them go off in excellent order right away out into theplain, the orange rays of the setting sun seeming to turn the half-nudefigures into living bronze. Then the desert began to grow dim, the skyto darken, a few stars to peep out in the pale grey arch, and after aparty had been deputed to keep watch, this intermission in the attackwas seized upon as the time for making a hearty meal, the sentries notbeing forgotten.

  "And no
w, Bart," said the Doctor, "I shall keep the gate myself to-nightwith half a dozen men. I should like you and Joses to watch in thegallery once more with the Beaver's men. These Apaches will be backagain to-night to try and drive off the capital prize, if they could getit, of our cattle."

  "Very good, sir," said Bart, cheerily; "I'll watch."

  "So will I," growled Joses.

  "I wish you had the Beaver to help you. Poor fellow!" said the Doctor,sadly; "his was a wonderful eye. The interpreter will become chief now,I suppose."

  "Perhaps so, sir," said Bart; "but he says that the Beaver is not dead,but will come back."

  "I would he spoke the truth," said the Doctor, sadly. "The poor fellowdied that we might be saved, like a hero. But there, we have no timefor repining. Let us get well into our places before dark. Joses, canyou be a true prophet?" he added.

  "What about, master?" said the frontiersman.

  "And tell me when I may be allowed to mine my silver in peace?"

  "No, master, I'm not prophet enough for that. If you killed off allthese Injun, you might do it for a time, but 'fore long a fresh lotwould have sprung up, and things would be as bad as ever. Seems to mefinding silver's as bad as keeping cattle. Come along, Master Bart. Iwish we had some of them salmon we speared."

  "Never mind the salmon," said Bart, smiling; "we escaped with ourlives;" and leading the way, they were soon ensconced in their places,watching the darkness creep over the plain like a thick veil, while thegreat clusters of stars came out and shone through the clear air tillthe sky was like frosted gold.

  "Do you think the Apaches will come again to-night?" said Bart, after anhour's silence.

  "Can't say, my lad. No, I should say. Yes, I should say," he whisperedback; "and there they are."

  As he spoke, he levelled his rifle at the first of two dusky figuresthat had appeared out in the plain, rising as it were out of the earth;but before he could fire, there was a hand laid upon his shoulder, andanother raised the barrel of his piece.

  "Treachery!" shouted Joses. "Bart, Master Bart, quick--help!"

  There was a fierce struggle for a few moments, and then Joses loosenedhis hold and uttered an exclamation full of vexed impatience.

  "It's all right, Master Bart," he cried. "Here, give us your hand, oldSpeak English," he added, clapping the interpreter on the shoulder,"it's of no use for us English to think of seeing like you, Injun."

  "What does all this mean, Joses?" whispered Bart, excitedly, for itseemed marvellous that two Indians should be allowed to come up to theirstronghold unmolested.

  "Why, don't you see, my lad," cried Joses, "Beaver and his chap arn'tdead after all. There they are down yonder; that's them."

  Bart leaped up, and forgetful of the proximity of enemies, waved his capand shouted: "Beaver, ahoy! hurrah!"

  The two Indians responded with a cheery whoop, and ran up to the rocks,while Bart communicated the news to the Doctor and his fellow-guardiansof the gate, where the lad pushed himself to the front, so as to be thefirst to welcome the chief back to their stronghold--a welcome the morewarm after the belief that had been current since his non-return.

  The Doctor's grasp was so friendly that the chief seemed almost moved,and nodding quietly in his dignified way, he seated himself in silenceto partake of the refreshments pressed upon him by his friends.

  "The Apache dogs must live longer and learn more before they can teachthe Beaver-with-Sharp-Teeth," said the interpreter scornfully to Joses.

  "I'm very glad of it," said the latter, heartily. "I hate Injun, butsomehow I don't hate the Beaver and you, old Speak English, half--no,not a quarter--so much as I do some of 'em. I say, how could you tellin the dark that it was the Beaver?"

  "Speak English has eyes," said the Indian, accepting the nickname Josesgave him without a moment's hesitation. "Speak English uses his eyes.They see in the dark, like a puma or panther, as much as yours see inthe sunshine."

  "Well, I suppose they do," said Joses, with a sigh. "I used to think,too, that I could see pretty well."

  They were back now in the gallery, keeping a steady watch out towardsthe plain, Bart being with them, and all were most anxiously waitingtill the Beaver and his companion should come; for they were steadilyendeavouring to make up for a very long fast to an extent that wouldastound an Englishman who saw a half-starved Indian eating for the firsttime. Joses and Bart made no scruple about expressing their wonder asto how it was that the Beaver had managed to escape; but the interpreterand his fellows hazarded no conjecture whatever. They took it forgranted that their clever chief would be sure to outwit the Apaches, andso it had proved.

  At last the Beaver came gliding softly into their midst, taking hisplace in the watch as if nothing whatever had happened; and in reply toBart's eager inquiries, he first of all raised himself up and took along and searching survey of the plain.

  This done, he drew the interpreter's attention to something that hadattracted his own notice, and seemed to ask his opinion. Then theIndian changed his position, and sheltering his eyes from the starlight,also took a long searching look, ending by subsiding into his place witha long, low ejaculation that ended like a sigh.

  "That means it is all right," whispered Joses.

  "Yes; all right," said the Beaver, turning his dark face toward them,and showing his white teeth, as if pleased at being able to comprehendtheir speech.

  "Then now tell us, Beaver, how it was you managed to get away."

  Without following the chief's halting delivery of his adventures inEnglish, it is sufficient to say that he and his follower kept theApaches back as they made attempt after attempt to ascend the chimney,shooting several, and so maddening the rest that they forgot their usualcautious methods of approach, and at last gathered together, evidentlymeaning to make a headlong rush.

  This, the Beaver knew, meant that he and his man must be overpowered orshot down before they could reach the pathway of the natural fort, socunning was brought to bear to give them time.

  He knew that the Apaches would be sure to spend some few minutes infiring, partly to distract their enemies and partly to give them thecover of abundant smoke for their approach before they made their finalrush; and taking off his feather head-gear, he secured it with a coupleof stones so near the top of the rock which sheltered him and hiscompanion that the eagle plumes could be seen by the Apaches as theygathered below.

  His companion did the same, and as soon as this was done, they brokeaway from their hiding-place, and ran a few yards over the soft, sandysoil at the edge of the patch of forest, to some rocks, making deepimpressions with their moccasins. Then, taking a few bounds along thehard rock, they found a suitable place, and there the Beaver bent down,his follower leaped upon his shoulders, and he walked quickly backwardinto the forest.

  "And so made only one trail!" cried Bart, excitedly.

  "And that one coming from the trees if the Apaches should find it," saidJoses, grinning. "Well, you are a clever one, Beaver, and no mistake."

  To put the chiefs words in plain English:

  "We had only just got into cover when we heard the firing begin verysharply, and knowing that there was not a moment to lose, we backedslowly in among the trees till it grew stony, and our moccasins made nosign, and then my young man stepped down, and we crept from cover tocover, stopping to listen to the yelling and howling of the dogs, whenthey found only our feathers; and then we seemed to see them as theyrushed off over the plain, meaning to catch us before we were in safety.But the dogs are like blind puppies. They have no sense. They couldnot find our trail. They never knew that we were behind them in theforest; and there we hid, making ourselves a strong place on the edge ofthe canyon, where we could wait until they had gone; and when at lastthey had gone, and all was safe, we came on, and we are here."

  "They wouldn't have escaped you like that, would they, Beaver?" saidBart, after shaking hands once more warmly, and telling him how glad hewas to see him back.

  "E
scaped me?" said the Beaver, scornfully; "there is not one of my youngmen who would have been trifled with like that."

  This he said in the Indian tongue, and there was a chorus of assentingejaculations.

  "But the Apaches are blind dogs, and children," he went on, speakingwith bitter contempt. "They fight because they are so many that oneencourages the other, but they are not brave, and they are not warriors.The young men of the Beaver-with-Sharp-Teeth are all warriors, andlaugh at the Apaches, for it takes fifty of them to fight one of mybraves."

  He held up his hand to command silence after this, and then pointed outinto the plain.

  "Can you see anything, Joses?" whispered Bart.

  "Not a sign of anything but dry buffler grass and sage-brush. No; it'sof no use, Master Bart, I've only got four-mile eyes, and these Injunhave got ten-mile eyes. Natur's made 'em so, and it's of no use tofight again it. 'Tis their natur to, and it arn't our natur to, so allwe can do is to use good medicine."

  "Why, you don't think that physic would do our eyes any good, do you,Joses?" whispered Bart.

  "Physic, no! I said medicine," chuckled Joses.

  "Well, what's the difference?" replied Bart.

  "Difference enough. I meant Injun's medicine, as they call it. Didn'tthe Beaver say that the master's glass was all good medicine? Hethought it was a sort of conjuring trick like their medicine-men do whenthey are making rain come, or are driving out spirits, as they call it.No; we can't help our eyes being queer, my lad, but we can use medicinespy-glasses, and see farther than the Injun. Hold your tongue; he'smaking signs."

  For the Beaver had held up his hand again to command silence. Then hedrew Bart towards him, and pointed outwards.

  "Apache dogs," he whispered. "Young chief Bart, see?"

  "No," replied the lad, after gazing intently for some time; and then,without a word, he glided off along the narrow, rocky, well-shelteredpath, and made his way to the Doctor, who, with his men, was upon the_qui vive_.

  "Well, Bart, what is it?" he said, eagerly.

  "The Beaver can see Apaches on the plain."

  "A night attack, eh?" said the Doctor. "Well, we shall be ready forthem. Why have you come--to give us warning?"

  "I came first for the glass," replied Bart. "I'll send you notice ifthey appear likely to attack, sir."

  "Then I hope you will not have to send the notice, my lad," said theDoctor, "for I don't like fighting in the dark."

  As he spoke he handed the glass, and Bart returned to the gallery.

  "Are they still there?" he whispered.

  "Yes; Apache dogs," was the reply. "Good medicine."

  "They won't find it so," growled Joses, "if they come close up here, formy rifle has got to be hungry again. I'm 'bout tired of not being leftpeaceable and alone, and my rifle's like me--it means to bite."

  As he crouched there muttering and thinking of the narrow escapes theyhad had, Bart carefully focussed the glass, no easy task in the deepgloom that surrounded them; and after several tries he saw somethingwhich made him utter an ejaculation full of wonder.

  "What is it, my lad?" whispered Joses.

  "The young chief sees the Apache dogs?" said the interpreter.

  "Yes," exclaimed Bart; "the plain swarms with them."

  "Then they're gathering for a big attack in the morning," said Joses."Are they mounted?"

  "Yes, all of them. I can just make them out crossing the plain."

  "Well, their horses are only good to run away on," growled Joses; "theycan't ride up this mountain. Let me have a look, my lad."

  Bart handed the glass, and Joses took a long, eager look through, at thegathering of Apache warriors.

  "I tell you what," he said, "we shall have to look out or they'll driveoff every head of cattle and every leg of horse. They're as cunning ascunning, I don't care what any one says, and some of these days we shallopen our eyes and find ourselves in a pretty mess."

  "The Apache dogs shall not have the horses," said the Beaver fiercely.

  "That's right; don't let 'em have them," cried Joses. "I don't want 'emto go; but here's one thing I should like answered--How are we going tofind 'em in pasture with all these wild beasts hanging about, ready toswoop down and make a stampede of it, and drive them off?"

  "The Beaver's young men will drive the horses and cattle out," said theBeaver, in tones of quiet confidence, "and bring them back again quitesafe."

  "If you can do that," said Joses, "perhaps we can hold out; but it don'tseem likely that we shall get much salmon from down in the canyonyonder, which is a pity, for I've took to quite longing for a bit ofthat; and if the Apache don't take care, I shall have some yet."

 

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