Indian and Scout: A Tale of the Gold Rush to California

by F. S. Brereton

  CHAPTER XI

  Surrounded by Indians

  Jack and Steve lay in the narrow belt of trees for another half-hourbefore either opened their lips again. For the hunter had lifted awarning finger, and had enjoined silence upon his companion. And as theylay there, the band of Indians they had seen collected outside on theplain was increased by the addition of some two dozen more, who rode upfrom another quarter.

  "Guess they're a trifle bothered," said Steve at last, making an effortand managing to kneel; for up till then his lower limbs had beenpractically powerless. "Yer see, the varmint they've sent riding roundhas picked up our traces from the point where we left the wagon thismornin', and they've followed 'em right away to the point whar we struckthe herd of buffalo. They ain't seen no marks goin' back agin, and sothey concludes that we're hid up in this here belt of trees. Wall, now,they ain't sartin."

  "And why?" asked Jack, his voice lowered to a whisper, while his eyeswere glued upon the Indians. For he was still a novice where these wildmen of the plains were concerned, and what he knew already had beenpicked up by listening to the scouts' tales at night, as they sat roundthe fire.

  "'Cos them buffalo aer done us a right down good turn," said Steve.

  "Them skunks out thar has theirselves to thank fer that, for they turnedthe herd and sent it flying into our faces. And them buffalo fairlysmashed out every trace we made coming into these trees. Wall, now,supposin' we was still with the herd. Supposin' our horses happened tohave been extry fresh, and not tired after a day of it, they'd likely asnot have managed to keep ahead of them chargin' beasts, and, ef theydid, we should be miles away by now, and still leadin' 'em. That aer thedifficulty. I 'low as it's a small one, and won't take over long fixin'.But thar it is, and them critters has to come right in here aforethey're sartin what's happened. That aer a movement clear agin theirprinciples."

  "Why?" asked Jack, wondering at the statement; for it seemed hardlyprobable that, when there were at least thirty of the enemy to each oneof themselves, they would hesitate to rush the belt of trees and killthose lying within.

  "Why, I'll tell yer. Them varmint out thar aer the cruellest and bravestmen as ever stepped the airth. Their trainin' teaches 'em to kill anenemy, and never to go down theirselves ef they can help it. Ef a man'skilled, wall, guess to them redskins it's 'cos he's a fool, and ain'tbeen cute enough. That's why yer don't git an Injun creepin' to a placelike this when he may likely enough get his skull cracked afore he'sseen so much as a haar of the enemy. See?"

  Jack did, and for a while pondered the matter. Somehow or other, inspite of his knowledge that he and Steve stood in very imminent dangerof losing their lives, he felt no trepidation, no fear for himself, butonly a great longing to beat the enemy out there on the plain. As longas the white man fills his present position in the world, and retainshis wonderful independence, he will, without doubt, face odds withdetermination and even some amount of pleasure. A strong fight hasalways appealed to men of the British race, and to those of America, forthe truth of which statement one hardly need turn to the roll of historycompiled by each of them. There are examples of heroic struggles, wherefew were opposed to many, all through the years that have passed, andsome are so notorious that one always carries them in one's memory. Withthat fine record to stimulate him, Jack, too, looked to the comingcontest not with fear, but with a certain amount of pleasure. His pulseswere beating fast, all his senses were keenly alert, and as he staredout at the Indians his wits were working quickly in the endeavour todiscover some scheme whereby he and Steve might outwit them.

  "Ef these plaguey legs of mine'll only continue to improve we'll put upa fight that'll astonish them varmint," growled Steve at last. "Yer kinsee, they're havin' a palaver, and in a bit, no doubt, the chiefs'llcall upon the venturesome young men to investigate this here place.It'll be nigh dark then, which should give us a bit of a chance. Aer yergot yer knife, lad?"

  Jack's hand dropped on it, for since he had joined the scouts he hadcarried the same weapons as themselves. And a large hunting-knife waspart of his outfit "It's here," he said. "Right in my belt."

  "Wall, ye'll want it. Them critters as comes has got ter be silencedwithout so much as a sound, and ef yer've any love fer yer own scalpye'll put away all sorts of skeary notions yer may have had. A mansarcumstanced same as we aer ain't got a look in ef he's toothin-skinned to fight fer his life as best he kin. To live throughto-night and keep our haar we've got to kill some of them critters. Anda huntin'-knife aer the only weapon. Ef we was to use a revolver,shucks! it'd give the show away. They'd be on to us in a moment Jestlook at them young bloods!"

  Out in the open there was a good deal of commotion at this moment, andvoices, which before had been inaudible, came to the ears of the twohiding amidst the trees and underwood. It seemed that there was analtercation amongst the Indians, for there was shouting, while some ofthe men urged their horses into the centre of the circle which had beenformed, and brandished their weapons.

  "Didn't I say as much?" whispered Steve. "Them's the young men of thetribe, and sense they ain't accounted much till they've took a hull heapof scalps, and has done something extry brave, why, in course they'refer rushin' this place agin the advice of the older and cautious ones.Ye'll see as they'll allow two or three to try their hands."

  "But why give them a chance?" asked Jack suddenly. "While they'rediscussing the matter we might get on to the horses and make a dash inthe opposite direction."

  Steve's grim face showed for a moment a grin of contempt. Then the linessoftened as he regarded our hero.

  "Ye've got grit right enough, Carrots," he said, "but yer ain't seenmuch of them varmint. Do yer think as they ain't thought of a dash?Reckon an Injun don't forget nothin'. There's men posted all round thisbelt of trees, and mounted on the best hosses. 'Sides, ef it did come toa rush, our mounts are that tired they'd break up afore we'd gallopedfive miles. Then, too, ye're forgettin' my condition. I've never hadsich a thing happen to me afore, though I've seen a sight of men thrownheavily, and unable to move for weeks. Yes, and some of 'em never gotback the use of their legs. With me it's jest temporary. Reckon the jerkthrew something outer gear for a while. But it's mendin' fast, and in afew hours, perhaps, I'll be able to mount and ride."

  The same grim look came over the injured scout's face, as much as to saythat when those few hours had passed circumstances would make furtheruse of his limbs out of the question. For Steve had not the smallestdoubt that nothing but a miracle could save them. He became silent forsome few moments, while his weather-beaten face crinkled in alldirections, showing big lines across the forehead, which indicated thefact that he was thinking deeply. Meanwhile the excitement amongst theIndians grew even greater. To Jack, as he watched them, it seemed atfirst as if they would come to blows, and that they were quarrellingseriously. Then the noise died down a little, while five men slippedfrom their ponies.

  "Them's the lads as has been chosen to investigate this here place,"said Steve grimly, "and it won't be long afore they're sticking theirugly, painted faces in amongst the trees. Look ye here, Jack, I've beenthinkin' somethin'. Yer was rash to stay back there and haul me awayfrom the front of that 'ere herd of buffalo, 'cos ef ye'd rid fer itye'd have got clear yerself, without a doubt, and could have reached ourmates with the start ye'd have had. It war a brave act, and I don't sayas I ain't grateful. I am precious grateful, but I'm vexed to think asmy poor life are been saved jest fer a few minutes at the expense ofyours. Jack, you aer young. The world's dead ahead of yer, and, ef Iain't makin' an error, ye've somethin' real serious to live fer. But ferme, life ain't that rosy. I don't say as I ain't grateful to Him as giveit to me; but I've had my day, and am ready to go when the call comes.Yer see, I've lost wife and childer, and when that's the case a mandon't kinder stick so fast to this world. But I war sayin' as ye've gotsomethin' real good to live fer. And I are been thinkin' about them 'erered-skinned varmints. There aer jest a chance as yer might escape. Efthem critters was all engaged i
n watchin' the young bloods creepin' inhere, I 'low that a man on a fair horse might manage to steal throughthe fellers hanging around outside, and gallop to his friends. Now, myhorse ain't had the doin' that yours has. Yer jest wait a bit, and whenI tell yer, creep back and mount. When them young critters aer closehandy to these here trees, yer slip out t'other side. It'll be darkthen, and the chance aer worth takin'."

  For the usually silent Steve the speech was an extraordinarily long one,and once he had finished he let his head drop back against the treetrunk with a sigh of relief. For, after all, even though a man's outlookon life may have faded a little, he still clings to it. And to urge acomrade to escape, and leave one to certain death at the hands of suchmiscreants, needed not a little fortitude. Even as Steve faced theconsequences of his advice to Jack, he shuddered just a little. Somehowor other it required greater courage to face a lonely death, with nocomrade at hand to bear him company.

  "Ain't yer got ready?" he asked, a minute later, hearing no movementfrom Jack. "Them varmint aer creepin' nearer, and the night aer fallin'fast. Reckon ye'd best be movin'."

  Then, as he turned his head to look at his comrade, a gasp of surpriseescaped the hunter. For Jack had not moved an inch. He lay there, hiddenfrom the enemy, behind a tree, his hunting-knife gripped firmly in hishand. Even there, in the gloom cast by the branches, it was possible toobserve his face, and Steve noticed for the first time in his life alook of dogged determination. For till that day Jack had shown his newcomrades, with the exception of Tom, his lighter side, his merry,good-hearted nature. He was whistling or laughing or singing the daylong, and at night listening to their hunter yarns with an interestthere was no denying. Suddenly, as it were, he had developed from a boyinto a stern man. There was no mistaking his expression.

  "Why!" gasped Steve. "Yer ain't moved. Jack, ef yer don't get away tothem hosses there won't be any ridin' at all. Jest git, lad, and make nobones about the matter."

  "And leave you? Not much!" answered our hero doggedly, just as he haddone earlier on when Steve ordered him to ride and leave him to becrushed by the buffalo. "Look ye here, Steve, when I rode from camp withyou this mornin', reckon you was in command, 'cos I ain't no great ideaof huntin'. But you're hurt. You ain't no longer able to command, so Iguess I have to take the job over. I ain't goin' to move away. You cantake that as final."

  "Yer ain't goin'----!"

  "H-h-hush! They'll hear us. Lie quiet!" commanded Jack sternly.

  "Jest give us a fist, lad. I ain't angry. A man knows when he meets areal man, and I ain't quarrelin' with yer for it. My! Ef we get outerthis thar'll be somethin' to tell the boys!"

  Something suspiciously like a sob of relief escaped Steve as he lay backagainst the tree, and none but the most heartless would have scoffed athim. This grim, courageous little hunter, who had lived his life out onthe plains or in the forests, and had become innured to privation andexposure, was, after all, just like any other man possessed of energyand determination. The feeling that he was useless, the very strangenessof being in such a condition, caused the most abject depression ofspirits, while the relief of finding that he had a true comrade besidehim was almost too much for him. But the determination of the little mansoon conquered any passing weakness, and in a few moments he washimself again, the crafty scout, who had fought the Indian enemy many atime.

  "Gee! Ef I could get these here legs o' mine to move sensible like," hewhispered. "But look ye here, Jack; get on yer knees behind the tree andwait for 'em. Don't so much as move an eyelid till them varmint isclose. Then strike. It aer their lives or ourn."

  It was indeed a case of self-defence, of taking life to save life, andthough our hero's natural gentleness caused him to shrink from theordeal before him, yet the fact that he found himself suddenly calledupon to defend a helpless comrade made him brace himself for thecontest, and set his lips firmly together, while a quiet determinationcame over him to protect Steve, and to come out of the conflict alive.No man likes to be beaten. Jack did not differ from the averageindividual.

  "Separatin'," whispered Steve after a few moments. "They reckon asthey've got ter investigate every corner of the place, so they're eachof 'em taking a plot. That'll suit us better than ef they came alltogether. Five of the varmints. Ef I war fit and able to use these herelegs, and thar warn't a tarnal heap of their brothers I'd tackle thatlot single-handed, and afore breakfast too. It ud jest kinder give me anappetite."

  As the moment for action arrived the little scout's spirits revivedwonderfully. He was a man who had come through many a fight with theIndians, and had learned never to give up the contest until he wasactually beaten. And now, with such a stanch comrade as Jack besidehim, he began to look upon their chances as perhaps not altogetherhopeless.

  "I've knowed wonderful escapes," he said to himself. "And I reckon achap like this here Carrots ain't goin' under so easy. After showin'grit same as he has done, he desarves to pull through, and, by the'tarnal, I'll help him."

  Stretched full length on the ground, with the branches of treesoverhanging them, and brushwood thickly scattered about, Jack and hisfriend watched the approach of the five young Indians in a grim silence.Where they lay it was now almost dark, so that they could barely see oneanother. But outside, in the open, it was still possible to perceiveobjects, though the band of Indians had now become blotted out by thefalling gloom. In the gathering dusk five figures could be seenadvancing on hands and knees, their eyes fixed on the trees in front ofthem. Ten yards divided each man from his comrade, and as they camenearer this distance was increased. At length they reached the very edgeof the trees, and so that all should enter at the same moment, the onewho arrived first lay on his face and signalled to the others.

  "Yer hear the critters?" asked Steve in a tense whisper, putting hislips to Jack's ears. "That 'ere aer the bark of a fox, and it tells 'emall that they can push on into the trees. Jest lie as ef yer was dead.That chap out thar'll pass us to one side."

  Dimly seen, some ten feet to the right, was one of the Indians; butthough Jack listened with all his ears he heard no sound as the stealthyfigure crept into the underwood. For the first time he had anillustration of that cunning and cleverness of which he had read andheard, and for which the Red Indian was famous. Though he himself couldhardly have advanced a foot without causing a branch to swish heavily,or a twig to snap, not a sound came from the several points where heknew an enemy must be. So, more convinced than ever that deathly silencewas essential if he would not be pounced upon before he was ready, hekneeled there like a statue, his eyes peering eagerly into the denseunderwood.

  Ah! A leaf rustled away to his right, and there was a feeble sound,almost indistinguishable, which told of a branch being set gently aside.And then silence, a deadly, nerve-racking silence, which continued fornearly five minutes. Five minutes! It felt like five hours to Jack. Andthen a hand caught him by the shoulder.

  "H-h-h-ush!" Steve hardly whispered the word. "Jest to the right!"

  The hand on his shoulder gripped him firmly and turned Jack a little.Without needing to move his legs, he twisted his body, and found himselflooking in a different direction. Then his ears caught a faint sound. Amouse might have made more; a human being could hardly have beenexpected to make so little. It seemed impossible. A branch dangling justbefore his face swayed in his direction, and the leaves rustled againsthis forehead. Then they began to press upon him, gently at first, andthen more and more firmly. Someone was trying to push the branch asideand advance. Jack's fingers closed on the haft of his hunting-knife likea vice. He braced his muscles for the encounter, while he held hisbreath lest the miscreant should hear him, and so gain an advantage.The moment for action was imminent. It was with difficulty that he couldrestrain himself; but for the hand still gripping his shoulder, tellinghim that Steve was there, advising him still to remain motionless, Jackwould have thrown further caution to the winds, and would have flunghimself upon the Indian.

  Crash! Away in the centre of the little wood a br
anch broke with thecrisp sound of a pistol shot, and instantly there came that familiarsignal, the bark of a fox. It was answered to right and left, and thenfrom a point but three feet from our hero. Instantly the pressure on thebranch pushing into his face was relaxed. Those faint, stealthy soundsreached his ear again, and presently subsided.

  "Good fer yer," whispered Steve, placing his lips close to Jack's earagain. "I felt yer kinder draw yerself together fer the ruction, and I'low it takes a heap of grit to lay still when thar's one of themvarmint close handy. They've found the hosses, and by the way they'repalaverin' it seems to me as if they took it fer granted that we'dslipped from the wood. Do yer hear them calls? They're signalling to themen placed outside."

  From the small wood in which they lay, and a little later from the plainoutside, came those mysterious barkings, as if a regiment of foxes hadsuddenly appeared upon the scene. Then voices were heard, as the Indianscalled openly to one another.

  "I think they've gone," said Jack at last, having heard more sounds ofbreaking branches. "We shall be able to leave perhaps in a littlewhile."

  "P'raps," agreed Steve grudgingly. "But ef I know them varmint theywon't take their eyes off this place even ef they think we've given 'emthe slip. They'll watch it like lynxes all night long, and in themorning they'll know for sure, 'cos there won't be no tracks. Guessthey're leadin' away our hosses."

  Listening intently, the dull sounds which came to their ears told themwithout room for doubt that the two horses were being taken from thewood. There were then a few more calls out on the plain, and afterwardssilence again settled down.

  "S-s-s-h!" whispered Steve, as Jack attempted to move, for his limbswere a little cramped. "I'm thinkin' there's a bit of a trick bein'played. Lie still fer yer life, for I thought I heerd someone movin' notthree yards away."

  He whispered ever so gently in Jack's ear, and again his restraininghand fell upon our hero's shoulder. An instant later it was draggedforcibly away, for someone had gripped Jack by the arm, and with asudden jerk he was hauled in the opposite direction. A man closed withhim, grasping his hair with one hand, while the other held a knifepoised in the air. And, luckily for Jack, his fingers closed upon thewrist ere a second had passed, while his free hand sought for andfinally fell upon the man's neck. He gripped it as a terrier takes a ratbetween his teeth, and then made frantic efforts to upset his opponent,who lay above him. And all the while, as the two struggled desperatelyin the darkness of the undergrowth, there was silence; neither utteredso much as a sigh, and the only sound to be detected was the snap ofbreaking twigs and the hiss of their laboured breathing. For Jack wasin the grip of one of the deadly Indians, and the struggle between themcould end only with the last breath of one or other of them.