The Silver Canyon: A Tale of the Western Plains

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

  HARD PRESSED.

  Day broke, and the sun rose, displaying a sight that disheartened manyof the occupants of the rock; for far out on the plain, and well beyondthe reach of rifle-bullets, there was troop after troop of Indianwarriors riding gently here and there, as if to exercise their horses,but doubtless in pursuance of some settled plan.

  The Doctor inspected them carefully through his glass, to try andestimate their numbers, and he quite came to the conclusion that theyintended to invest the rock fortress, and if they could make noimpression in one way, to try and starve out its occupants.

  "We must make sure, once for all, Bart, that we have no weak points--nospot by which these Indian wretches can ascend and take us in the rear.Suppose you take the Beaver and two of his men with you, ascend themountain, and make a careful inspection."

  "But that would hardly be so satisfactory, sir, as if we went all roundthe base first to make sure that there is no way up from the plain."

  "No, I know that," replied the Doctor; "but that is too dangerous atask."

  "I'm beginning to like dangerous tasks now, sir," said Bart; "they areso exciting."

  "Well, go then," said the Doctor; "but you must be mounted, or you willhave no chance of retreat; and of course you will all keep a sharplook-out in case the Indians swoop down."

  Bart promised, and went at once to the Beaver and Joses.

  "I'm to come too, ain't I?" said the latter.

  "No, you are to help keep guard," was the reply; and very sulkily Josesresumed his place, while the Beaver descended with Bart and four of hismen to enter the rock stable and obtain their horses, the rest having toremain fasting while their companions were mounted and ridden out; theIndian ponies in particular resenting the indignity of being shut upagain behind the stones by turning round and kicking vehemently.

  The Apaches were so far distant that Bart was in hopes that they wouldnot see the reconnaissance that was being made, as he rode out at thehead of his little Indian party, after fully explaining to the Beaverthat which they were to do.

  His first step was to inspect the part of the mountain on the side thatwas nearest to the chimney, and the chasm into which they had descendedto see the silver on their first coming.

  This was the shortest portion by far, and it had the advantage of a gooddeal of cover in the shape of detached rocks, which sheltered them fromthe eyes of those upon the plain; but all the same, the Beaver postedtwo of his men as scouts in good places for observing the movements ofthe foe and giving warning should they approach; the plan being to takerefuge beneath the gallery, where they would be covered by the rifles ofJoses and their friends.

  It was not at all a difficult task to satisfy the most exacting thatascent from the plain anywhere from the gallery to the precipice at theedge of the canyon was utterly impossible; and after carefully examiningevery crack and rift that ran upwards, the little party cantered back,said a few words to Joses, and then prepared for their more risky task,that of examining the mountain round by its northern and more open side,for there was no cover here, and their path would be more fully in viewof any watchful eye upon the plain.

  They drew up by the gateway, and had a few minutes' conversation withthe Doctor, who said at parting:

  "You can soon satisfy yourself, Bart; but give a good look up as youcome back, in case you may have missed anything in going."

  "I'll be careful," said Bart eagerly.

  "Mind that scouts are left. I should leave at least three at differentpoints on the road. They can give you warning at once. Then gallopback as if you were in a race. We shall be ready to cover you with ourrifles if they come on. Now lose no time. Go!"

  Bart touched Black Boy with his heels, and went off at a canter, butchecked his speed instantly, so that he might the more easily gaze up atthe mountain-side, while, thoroughly intent upon his task, the Beaverleft scouts at intervals, each man backing close in to the rock, andsitting there like a statue watching the plain.

  No Indians were in sight as far as Bart could see, and he rode slowlyon, inspecting every opening in the face of the mountain, and so intentupon his task that he left the care of his person to the chief, whosewatchful eyes were everywhere, now pointing out rifts in the rock, nowsearching the plain.

  It was a much longer distance, and the importance of the task and itsrisk gave a piquancy to the ride that made the blood dance throughBart's veins. He could not help a little shudder running through himfrom time to time, though it was almost more of a thrill, and he couldnot have told, had he been asked, whether it was a thrill of dread or ofpleasure. Perhaps there may have been more of the former, for he keptglancing over his right shoulder from time to time to see if a body ofIndians might be sweeping at full gallop over the plain.

  Half the distance was ridden over, and this gave confidence to theadventurer, who rode more steadily on, and spared no pains to make sureof there being no possibility of the Indians reaching the top from thatside.

  On went Bart, and three-fourths of the way were passed with nothingoverhead but towering perpendicular rocks, impossible for anything but afly to scale. The Indians had been left one after the other as scoutingsentries, and at last, when no one was in company with the youngadventurer but the Beaver, the edge of the canyon on this side was wellin sight, and only a few hundred yards of the rock remained to beinspected.

  "We will do this, at all events," said Bart, pressing his cob's sideswith his heels; and he cantered on, for the face of the mountain was nowso perpendicular and smooth that there was no difficulty in determiningits safety at a glance.

  Only about three hundred yards more and then there was the canyon,presenting a barrier of rock so steep, as well as so much higher, thatthere was nothing to fear on that side. Only these three hundred yardsto examine, and the dangerous enterprise was almost as good as done, forevery step taken by the horses then would be one nearer to safety. Barthad ridden on, leaving the Beaver, who had drawn rein, looking back atthe plain, when suddenly there was a warning cry, and the lad lookedover his shoulder to see the Beaver signalling to him.

  "A minute won't make much difference," thought Bart excitedly, andinstead of turning, he pressed his horse's flanks and galloped on tofinish his task, rejoicing in the fact as he reached the canyon edgethat he had seen every yard of the mountain-side, and that it was evenmore perpendicular than near the gateway.

  "Now for back at a gallop," said Bart, who was thrilling withexcitement; and turning his steed right on the very edge of the canyon,he prepared to start back, when, to his horror, he saw a party ofdismounted Indians rise up as it were from the canyon about a hundredyards away, the place evidently where they had made their way down onthe occasion of the attack during the salmon-fishing. With a fierceyell they made for the young horseman, but as Black Boy bounded forwardthey stopped short. A score of bullets came whizzing about Bart's ears,and as the reports of the pieces echoed from the face of the mountain,the cob reared right up and fell over backwards, Bart saving himself bya nimble spring on one side, and fortunately retaining his hold of thebridle as the cob scrambled up.

  Just then, as the Indians came yelling on, and Bart in his confusionfelt that he must either use rifle or knife, he could not tell which,there was a rush of hoofs, a quick check, and a hand gripped him by thecollar.

  For a moment he turned to defend himself, but as he did so he saw thatit was a friend, and his hand closed upon the Indian pony's mane, for itwas the Beaver come to his help; and spurring hard, he cantered off withBart, half running, half lifted at every plunge as the pony made towardswhere their first friend was waiting rifle in hand.

  "Let me try--draw him in," panted Bart, gripping his own pony's manehard as it raced on close beside the Beaver's; and with a hand uponeach, he gave a bound and a swing and landed in his saddle, just as theApaches halted to fire another volley.

  Black Boy did not rear up this time, and Bart now saw the reason of thelast evolution, feeling t
hankful that the poor beast had not been morebadly hit. His hurt was painful enough, no doubt, the rifle-ball havingcut one of his ears right through, making it bleed profusely.

  But there was no time to think of the pony's hurts while bullets werewhistling about them from behind; and now Bart could see the cause ofthe Beaver's alarm signal, and bitterly regretted that he had notresponded and turned at once, the few minutes he had spent in continuinghis inspection having been a waste of time sufficient to place all ofthem in deadly peril.

  For there far out on the plain was a very large body of the Apachescoming on at full gallop, having evidently espied them at last, and theywere riding now so as to cut them off from their friends, and drive themback into the corner formed by the mountain and the canyon, a spot whereescape would have been impossible even without the presence of a secondhostile party of Indians to make assurance doubly sure.

  "Ride! ride!" the Beaver said hoarsely; and in his excitement hisEnglish was wonderfully clear and good. "Don't mind the dogs behind;they cannot hit us as we go."

  All the same, though, as Bart listened to their yells and the reports oftheir rifles, he shuddered, and thought of the consequences of onebullet taking effect on horse or man.

  Every moment, though, as they rode on, the cries of the Apaches behindsounded more faint, but the danger in front grew more deadly.

  They picked up first one Indian of their party, and then another, thebrave fellows sitting motionless in their saddles like groups cut inbronze, waiting for their chief to join them, even though the great bodyof enemies was tearing down towards them over the plain. Then as theBeaver reached them, a guttural cry of satisfaction left their lips, andthey galloped on behind their leader without so much as giving a look atthe dismounted Indians who still came running on.

  A tremendous race! Well it was that the little horses had been well fedand also well-rested for some time past, or they would never have beenable to keep on at such a headlong speed, tearing up the earth at everybound, and spurning it behind them as they snorted and shook their greatstraggling manes, determined apparently to win in this race for life ordeath, and save their riders from the peril in which they were placed.

  Another Indian of their scouts reached, and their party increased tofive, while two more were ahead waiting patiently for them to come.

  The wind whistled by their ears; the ponies seemed to have become partof them, and every nerve was now strained to the utmost; but Bart beganto despair, the Apaches were getting to be so near. They werewell-mounted, too, and it was such a distance yet before the gatewaycould be reached, where the first prospect of a few friendly shots couldbe expected to help them to escape from a horrible death. Mercy, Bartknew, there would certainly be none, and in spite of all their efforts,it seemed as if they must lose the race.

  How far away the next sentry seemed! Try how they would, he seemed tobe no nearer, and in very few minutes more Bart knew that the Indianswould be right upon them.

  Involuntarily he cocked his rifle and threw it to the left as if gettingready to fire, but the Beaver uttered an angry cry.

  "No, no; ride, ride," he said; and Bart felt that he was right, for tofire at that vast body would have been madness. What good would it dohim to bring down one or even a dozen among the hundreds coming on, allthirsting for their blood?

  In response Bart gripped his pony more tightly, rising slightly in thestirrups, and the next moment they were passing their scout like aflash, and he had wheeled his pony and was after them.

  One more scout to reach, and then a race of a few hundred yards, andrifles would begin to play upon their pursuers; but would they everreach that next scout?

  It seemed impossible; but the ponies tore on, and Bart began in hisexcitement to wonder what would be done if one should stumble and fall.Would the others stop and defend him, or would they gallop away to savetheir own lives? Then he asked himself what he would do if the Beaverwere to go down, and he hoped that he would be brave enough to try andsave so good a man.

  Just then a rifle-shot rang out in their front. It was fired by thescout they were racing to join.

  It was a long shot, but effective, for an Apache pony fell headlongdown, and a couple more went over it, causing a slight diversion intheir favour--so much, trifling as it was, that the Beaver and his partygained a few yards, and instead of galloping right down upon them, theApaches began to edge off a little in the same direction as that inwhich the fugitives were rushing.

  And still they tore on, while at last the Apaches edged off more andmore, till they were racing on about a hundred yards to their left,afraid to close in lest their prey should get too far ahead; and theywere all tearing on in this fashion when the last scout was reached,already in motion to retreat now and lose no time, setting spurs to hispony as the Beaver passed, and then came the final gallop to the gatewayfor life or death.

  For now came the question--would the firing of their friends check theApaches, or would they press on in deadly strife to the bitter end?

  "Ride close up to the rock below Joses," shouted the Beaver; "then jumpoff on the right side of your horse, turn and fire;" and with thesewords, spoken in broken English, ringing in his ears, Bart felt hisspirits rise, and uttering a cheer full of excitement, he rose in hisstirrups and galloped on.

  The endurance of the little horses was wonderful, but all the same theperil was of a terrible nature; for the ground which they were forced totake close in under the perpendicular mountain walls was strewn withblocks of stone, some of a large size, that had to be skirted, whilethose of a smaller size were leaped by the hardy little animals, andBart felt that the slightest swerve or a fall meant death of the mosthorrible kind.

  Twice over his cob hesitated at a monstrous piece of rock. And eachtime Bart nearly lost his seat; but he recovered it and raced on.

  Faster and faster they swept along, the Indian followers of the Beaverurging their horses on by voice and action, while the yells of theApaches acted like so many goads to the frightened beasts.

  Would they hear them on the rocks? Would Joses be ready? Would theDoctor give their enemies a salutation? Would they never reach thegateway?

  These and a dozen other such questions passed like lightning throughBart's brain in those moments of excitement; for the rocky gateway, thathad seemed so near to the first scout when they set out that morning andcantered off, now appeared at an interminable distance, and as if itwould never be reached; while the Apaches, as if dreading that theirprey might escape, were now redoubling their efforts, as Bart could seewhen he glanced over his left shoulder.

  But on the little band of fugitives swept, so close together that theirhorses almost touched; and, unless some unforeseen accident occurred--aslip, a stumble, or a fatal shot--they would soon be in comparativesafety.

  The Beaver saw this, and, forgetting his ordinary calm, he rose in hisstirrups, half turned and shook his rifle at the great body of Apaches,yelling defiantly the while, and drawing a storm of vengeful cries fromthe pursuers that rose loud above the thunder of the horses' hoofs.

  Another two hundred yards, and the gateway would be reached, but itseemed as if that short distance would never be passed; while now theApaches, taking advantage of the fact that their prey was compelled toswerve to the left, began to close in, bringing themselves in such closeproximity that Bart could see the fierce, vindictive faces, the flashingeyes, and eager clutching hands, ready to torture them should they notescape.

  Another fierce race for the last hundred yards, with the Apaches closingin more and more, and the fate of the fugitives seemed sealed, when,just as the enemy gave a fierce yell of triumph, rising in theirstirrups to lash their panting little steeds into an accelerated pace,the rock suddenly seemed to flash, and a sharp sputtering fire to dartfrom the zigzag path. Some of the pursuing horses and their ridersfell, others leaped or stumbled over them; and as Bart and hiscompanions drew rein close in beneath the gallery, forming a breastworkof their blown horses, and began firi
ng with such steadiness as theirexcitement would allow, a regular volley flashed from above their heads,and Joses and his companions followed it up with a triumphant shout.

  The effect was marvellous,--the great body of Apaches turning as upon apivot, and sweeping off at full gallop over the plain, leaving theirdead and wounded behind, and pursued by many a deadly shot.

  This was the result of their surprise, however; for before they had gonefar, they turned and charged down again, yelling furiously.

  "Don't fire till they're close in, Master Bart," Joses shouted fromabove; "they've come back for their wounded. Give 'em some more totake."

  Joses was right, for the charge was not pushed home, the savagesgalloping only sufficiently near to come to the help of their friends;and doubtless they would have carried off their dead, but theyencountered so fierce a fire from the rock that they were glad toretreat, leaving several of their number motionless upon the plain.

  Then they rode on right away, and Bart threw himself down, completelyovercome, to lie there panting and exhausted, till the Doctor and Josescame and led him up, the Beaver and his followers staying behind tosafely enclose the cavern stable with stones, after they had placedtheir own ponies and Black Boy within.