CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.
ANOTHER FRIEND COMES BACK.
Watch was set that night as usual, but it came on so pitchy dark thatnothing could be made out distinctly a yard away. Bart was with theBeaver and Joses in their old place in the gallery, fortunatelywell-sheltered by the rock overhead, for the rain came down in torrents,and gurgled loudly as it rushed in and out of the crevices of the rock,finding its way to the plains.
"How uneasy the cattle seem!" said Bart once, as they could be heardlowing down below in the darkness.
"'Nough to make 'em," said Joses, with a chuckle; "they'll have got wetthrough to-night, and I daresay there'll be water enough in the stablefor the horses to nearly swim."
"What a night for the Apaches!" said Bart after a pause, as theycrouched there listening to the hiss and roar of the falling waters."Suppose they were to come; we would never see them."
"But they wouldn't in a night like this," replied Joses. "Would they,Beaver?"
"Beaver don't know. Beaver think much," replied the chief. "He and hismen would come if they wanted their enemies' horses; but perhaps theApaches are dogs and cowards, and would fear the rain."
Towards morning the rain ceased, and with the rising sun the cloudscleared away, the sun shining out brilliantly; and as the Beaverstrained over the stones to get a good look into the corral, he uttereda hoarse cry.
"What's wrong?" cried Bart and Joses, starting up from their wearyingcramped position.
"Cattle gone!" cried the Beaver; and a moment later, "Horses are gone!"
It was too true; for, taking advantage of the darkness and the heavyrain, the Apaches had sent in a party of their cleverest warriors, whohad quietly removed the barriers of rock, and the cattle had followedtheir natural instinct, and gone quietly out to the last hoof, thehorses the same, making their way down to the pastures, where, at thefirst breaking of day, there was a strong band of mounted men ready todrive them right away into the plain, where the Beaver pointed them outmiles away, moving slowly in the bright sunshiny morning.
The alarm was given, but nothing could be done, and the Doctor lookedwith dismay at the lowering faces of the men who had agreed to followhis fortunes out there into the wilderness.
"You never said that we should meet with enemies like this," said oneman, threateningly. "You said you'd bring us where silver was inplenty, that was all."
"And have I not?" cried the Doctor, sharply. "There, now, get to yourwork; we have plenty of food and water, and we are relieved of the careof our horses and cattle. The Apaches will not interfere with usperhaps now, and when they have gone, we must communicate with Lerisco,and get more cattle. Have we not silver enough to buy all the cattle inthe province?"
This quieted the complainers, and they went quietly to their tasks,getting out the ore in large quantities, though it was, of course,impossible to touch the vein in the canyon. That had to be reserved formore peaceful times.
It almost seemed as if the Doctor was right, and that the Apaches wouldgo away contented now; but when Bart asked the Beaver for his opinion,he only laughed grimly.
"As long as we are here they will come," he said. "They will never stayaway."
"That's pleasant, Joses," said Bart; and then he began to bemoan theloss of his little favourite, Black Boy.
"Ah! it's a bad job, my lad," said Joses, philosophically; "but when yougo out into the wilderness, you never know what's coming. For my part,I don't think I should ever take to silver-getting as a trade."
It was a serious matter this loss of the horses and cattle, but somehowthe Indians seemed to bear it better than the whites. Whatever theyfelt they kept to themselves, stolidly bearing their trouble, while theEnglishmen and Mexicans never ceased to murmur and complain.
"How is it, Joses?" asked Bart one day, as they two were keeping guardby the gate. "One would think that the Indians would feel it more thanany one else."
"Well, yes, my lad, one would think so; but don't you see how it is? AnIndian takes these things coolly, for this reason; his horse is stolento-day, to-morrow his turn will come, and he'll carry off perhaps adozen horses belonging to some one else."
Their task was easy, for the Apaches seemed to have forsaken them inspite of the Beaver's prophecy, and several days went by in peace, not asign being discovered of the enemy. The little colony worked hard atgetting silver, and this proved to be so remunerative, that there was nomore murmuring about the loss of the cattle and horses; but all thesame, Bart saw that the Doctor went about in a very moody spirit, for heknew that matters could not go on as they were. Before long they musthave fresh stores, and it was absolutely necessary for communications tobe opened up with Lerisco if they were to exist at the mountain.
"I don't know what is to be done, Bart," the Doctor said one day. "Icannot ask the Indians to go without horses, and if a message is notconveyed to the governor asking him for help, the time will come, and isnot far distant, when we shall be in a state of open revolution, becausethe men will be starving."
"Not so bad as that, sir," cried Bart.
"Yes, my dear boy, it is as bad as that I begin to repent of coming uponthis silver expedition, for I am very helpless here with these wretchedsavages to mar all my plans."
It was the very next morning that, after being on guard at the gate allnight, Bart was thinking of the times when, for the sake of protectingthe cattle, they had kept guard in the gallery over the corral and bythe cavern stable, when, out in the bright sunshine at the foot of themountain, he saw a sight which made him rub his eyes and ask himselfwhether he was dreaming.
For there, calmly cropping what herbage he could find, was his oldfavourite who had carried him so often and so well--Black Boy.
"He must have escaped," cried Bart excitedly, "or else it is a trap toget us to go out, and the Indians are waiting for us."
With this idea in his mind he called Joses and the Beaver, showing themthe little horse, and they both agreeing that it was no trap or plan onthe Indians' part, Bart eagerly ran out and called the docile littlesteed, which came trotting up and laid its soft muzzle in his hand.
"If he could only have coaxed the others into coming with him," saidBart, "we should have been all right;" and leading his favourite up tothe gateway, he coaxed it to enter and climb carefully up over therugged stones till it was well in a state of safety, for he felt that hedared not risk leaving it outside.
It was almost absurd to see the curious way in which the little horseplaced one foot before another, pawing at the road to make sure of itsbeing safe before he trusted it and planted it firmly down, and so onwith the others; but Bart's word seemed to give him confidence, and stepby step he climbed up till he was in the spot where his master intendedhim to stay, when he gave a loud snort as if of relief, and stoodperfectly still while he was haltered to a peg.
The Silver Canyon: A Tale of the Western Plains Page 36