Lone Pine: The Story of a Lost Mine

by A. M. Chisholm

  CHAPTER XXIII

  A PICNIC PARTY

  The discovery of Felipe seemed quite a godsend to Backus as he wendedhis way through the Indian lands back to San Remo. Had he had a pistolon him when Stephens struck him that morning he would have shot him, ortried to shoot him, then and there. But now that his fit of passion hadgone by, he determined to pay the prospector out in his own way and athis own time. Looking at the matter in cooler blood he could see that hewould let himself in for a lot of trouble if he killed Stephens with hisown hand. In the first place, there would be a trial, and lawyers to bepaid, and that would come expensive, very expensive; and, secondly,Stephens had friends capable of going on the war-path. These confoundedredskin allies of his seemed so unaccountably devoted to him that theymight take it into their heads to perforate anyone who harmed him in ahighly unpleasant manner, to judge not only by Tito's talk, but by theaction of this stubborn old squaw, who had flatly told him at last thathe shouldn't even set eyes on Stephens's girl in his absence. And nowhere was just what he wanted, an instrument prepared to his hand. With alittle judicious spurring, a little help on the sly, Felipe would bequite ready to stick a knife in Stephens's back some night, or blow thetop of his head off, and he, Backus, would stand entirely clear--ay,need not even lose the trade of the pueblo. Really it seemed quiteprovidential. The only question that occurred to him was, whether Felipewould come down to see him, which would be most convenient, or whetherhe would have to go back to the pueblo to hunt for him. "But there'ssmall fear of that," said he, as his horse splashed through the SantiagoRiver before entering San Remo; "that sore arm of his'll bring himalong, if not to-night, then to-morrow, certain."

  * * * * *

  Mr. Backus was exceedingly accurate in his diagnosis of Felipe's frameof mind, as well as of the condition of his arm. The young Indian obeyedhim implicitly in the matter of going home, taking food, and lying downto obtain a good rest. He rose again later in the afternoon, and wentfor the second time to Reyna's house, only to find that for him therewas to be no admission. Reyna was perfectly clear that until Stephenscame back and settled what was to be done, the less the young people sawof each other the better it would be for all concerned. She was veryfriendly, rather amusing, and perfectly inexorable. As to the health ofher patient, all Felipe could learn was that she was getting alongnicely, thank you, and was in absolute need of rest, and would be so fora day or two longer,--until Stephens came back in fact. At present shewould not even go out of doors.

  All which did but root more firmly in Felipe's mind the conviction thatJosefa was destined for Stephens, and that this was why the door wasbarred against him. Nursing his wrath, he turned away to meet Tito. Forthe second time he tried to borrow Tito's pistol, which that discreetyoung man entirely declined to let him have so long as he continued inhis present frame of mind.

  "You can't want it to defend yourself, Felipe," he said very decidedly,"for the cacique isn't here."

  "Yes," said the boy sullenly, "but he'll be back in two or three days,and I'm not going to have him shooting at me again, and I not haveanything to shoot back with."

  "Pooh!" said Tito, "don't you fret yourself. He's not going to botheryou any more, you may be sure. Take it easy; that's all past and gone."

  But Felipe declined to take it easy. Finding Tito's mind was quite madeup, he went back to his mother's house, and announced his intention ofgoing down to San Remo to get his arm dressed by the storekeeper. Hetook his blanket with him, and added, as he started, that if Backuswould let him sleep down there, he wasn't coming back till the morrow,or even later. He reached the store at dark, and found Mr. Backus athome.

  "Come right in," said the Texan, as the boy with his blanket wrappedround him appeared in the doorway of the house after knocking, "comeright in and set down. I was expecting you." He placed him in the lightof a kerosene lamp, undid the arm, and dressed the wound again with somestinging stuff out of a bottle that made it smart. But the sharp throbof the wound gave no such stab to Felipe as the inquiry, casuallydropped, "Wal', have you called on Mrs. Stephens to pay your respectsyet?"

  The boy confessed his vain attempt.

  "Hah!" said the Texan, "so they're keeping her locked up tight, eh?Well, well; that's rather tough on you. But I don't wonder at it, nowthat Mr. Stephens and the cacique are in cahoots together. Of coursethey don't want anybody smelling around there when they are off and outof the way. No, they've got her there and they mean to keep her. But Iknow what I'd do if a man stole my gal away from me and shut her up."

  "What would you do?" inquired Felipe, with averted eyes. He had his headturned to one side, and was looking down at the hole in his arm whichBackus was dressing.

  "Me!" said Backus, "I'd fill the hound's hide so full of holes that itwouldn't hold shucks. That's what I'd do. And I'd lay for him, too, andget him when he wasn't expecting it. A man like that, as would stealanother man's gal away from him, don't deserve any more show than a maddog."

  "I haven't got a pistol,"--Felipe's voice trembled a little as he saidthis,--"but I could buy one, perhaps, if it wasn't too dear, if I knewof one for sale."

  "A knife's surer than a pistol," said the Texan cautiously; "though Iallow a feller that's only got his left arm to use is rather at adisadvantage with a knife. So he is with a pistol, unless he practisesshooting left-handed. However, if he gets up close, and takes his manfrom behind when he aint looking out for it, he can't hardly miss, andhe hadn't ought to need a second shot."

  "Do you know of anyone that's got a pistol for sale?" said the boyearnestly.

  "Wal', yes," said the Texan, "I do happen to know of a very good pistolthat's for sale. In fact, a man left it with me to be disposed of." Mr.Backus did not deal in firearms, but second-hand ones sometimes came inhis way as part payment of a debt. "I could sell it for him, and affordto take a very reasonable price for it. It's a first-class weapon." Hefinished tying up the wounded arm, and released his patient.

  "Thank you, senor, a thousand thanks for all your kindness," saidFelipe, rising. "May I see the pistol?"

  The storekeeper took a key from his pocket, unlocked a chest, andproduced a heavy, old-fashioned, muzzle-loading Colt's revolver in aleather holster. He drew it out; it was well smeared with grease. Hepulled the hammer to half-cock, and spun the cylinder round, click,click, click, with his finger.

  "She's not new," he remarked; "but she goes like clockwork, and she'llthrow a conical ball through four inches of pine wood. I've tried her ata mark, too, and she'll hit the size of a silver dollar at ten yardsevery pop, if you're man enough to hold her steady." He handed it overto Felipe, who examined it with great care. Though he had never owned aweapon of his own, he knew how to handle one. They did not read or writein the pueblo, but they had compulsory education for all that; every boylearned two necessary things, the use of weapons and the use of tools.And they never required any salaried attendance officer to drive them toschool. The boy drew back the hammer with his left thumb, holding thebarrel with his stiff right hand, and squinted down the sights.

  "That's right," said Backus approvingly, "I see you know all about it.Now that pistol cost fifteen dollars new, and I can sell it to you forfour dollars and a half, and there's a little ammunition that goes withit, thrown in. It's as good as new, too; these Colt's pistols neverwear out, but they've got a new style now with copper cartridges, andthat's why these old-fashioned ones are cheap." It was all quite true.Mr. Backus loved truth, it got you such a useful reputation; he neverlied except when he thought it would pay him, and then he could lie likea gas-meter.

  Felipe produced the cash, and slipped his belt through the loop of theholster. He felt himself more a man now; from this time forward he wouldgo "heeled."

  "No use your going back all that way to the pueblo," said thestorekeeper, "and it won't do your arm any good. I can let you sleephere in an outhouse, and I've lots of sheepskins I've traded for thatyou can spread down for a bed." The Indians despise soft mattre
sses, butlove to lie on skins.

  For the next three days Felipe was Backus's guest. His wounded arm maderapid progress towards recovery, and the boy spent his days eithersquatting in the store with his blanket drawn round him, silently notingall that went on, or in lounging round the corral, looking afterBackus's horse and practising aiming at a mark with his new toy. Hecould not afford to waste his ammunition, but Backus showed him how toput on old caps to save the tubes from the blow of the hammer, and bysnapping it thus he acquired a useful familiarity with his weapon.

  * * * * *

  For three days no tiding came to San Remo of Manuelita and her captors,or of their pursuers. But on the fourth morning two young Mexicans camespurring in from the westward, and reined up their weary horses beforeone of the San Remo corrals. They were soon surrounded by eagerquestioners, boys and women mostly, and the storekeeper and Felipe werenot long in joining the throng. The young men felt their ownimportance, and dealt out their information gradually. No, there hadbeen nothing to call a fight, and no one was hurt, though there had beensome shots fired. Yes, the Senorita Manuelita Sanchez was all right. Sheand the Americano, Don Estevan, and the Navajos were all coming hometogether in one party; and Don Nepomuceno and Don Andres with the restof the Mexicans were also coming home together, but by a differentroute, and along with them were the Santiago trailers. The variousincidents of the expedition,--of the loss of the trail and of thefinding it again, of the renewed pursuit almost to the verge of the LavaBeds, and of the meeting there between the party of Mexicans and thereturning Santiago trailers, who announced to them that Stephens, withManuelita and the Navajos, were already on their way back to SanRemo,--all these things had to be related at length and with impressivedetail. And then, their horses unsaddled and attended to, these youngmen, who had been riding a good part of the night, slipped away tocontrive an interview with their sweethearts, to get quickly back towhom they had ridden far and fast. The young men of San Remo wereneither laggards in love nor dastards in war.

  "I think, mebbe, if I was you," said Backus to the young Indian, "I'dcontrive not to be here just when they arrive, but go off somewheres andkeep out of the way. If you have a notion in your head to do anything,better not let folks see you, as it were, waiting for anyone--youunderstand?"

  Felipe understood perfectly. In the past three days he and Backus hadcome to understand one another only too well; there was no formalconspiracy between them; Backus was much too cautious to give himselfentirely away to any confederate, more especially to one so green andinexperienced as this Indian boy, but each was perfectly aware of theother's feelings towards the prospector.

  "Why shouldn't you jes' go back to your folks for the rest of the day,"continued Backus, "and let 'em know how you're getting on? Likely enoughthe cacique and his son-in-law" (he always alluded to Stephens now asthe cacique's son-in-law) "will be going on up there too, and you mightchance to hear something interesting if you lie low. You can come backdown here again after dark if you like, and I'll do up your arm for youas usual."

  Felipe took the hint, and was off at once. The rest and good food, forBackus treated him extremely well--it was part of his game--had quiterestored his strength, and except for having to carry his right arm in asling he felt fit for anything.

  Later on in the morning arrived the main party of Mexicans, headed byDon Nepomuceno and his son. They dispersed to their different houses todispose of their horses and be welcomed back by their families, but theydid not lay aside their arms, and it was not very long before theyreassembled at the Sanchez house in expectation of the arrival of theother party. The cacique and his three fellow-tribesmen of Santiagopreferred not to await the return of the Navajos, but pushed on at oncefor their own pueblo.

  But, for the waiting Mexicans, hour after hour passed and no sign of theNavajos or of Manuelita and Stephens appeared. The sun climbed high inthe heavens and sank slowly to the west, and still their coming wasdelayed. True, their exact route was not known, but it was guessed (andcorrectly guessed) that it was the short cut through the sierra, and ifso it was calculated that they should have arrived long before noon. Theanxiety became painful. All sorts of theories to account for the delaywere started. There had been a quarrel between Stephens and the Navajos;they had killed him and Manuelita, or had at least made them captivesand carried them farther into the wilderness to a securer hiding-place.Or Stephens and Manuelita had made their escape from them during thenight, and were now in hiding in the sierra, besieged there, perchancein some cave, and defended by the deadly rifle of the American. Manypossible explanations were discussed, and many tales of Navajo treacheryrecalled to mind; but there was nothing to be done except wait.

  Yet the cause of the delay was perfectly simple, and the result of themerest accident. When daylight came, and the sleeping band of Navajosawoke to find that four of their horses had strayed off, the ownersimmediately started on their trail to recover them, and till theyreturned Mahletonkwa declined to budge. He absolutely refused to dividehis party, or to allow the American and the girl to proceed alone. Underthe circumstances there was nothing to be done but wait, and Stephensdetermined to make the best of it. Hardy as he was, he could not butfeel the strain of the efforts he had been making, followed as they wereby a whole night on guard. He now left Manuelita to tend the fire andkeep a daylight watch; he threw himself on the ground, wrapped in hisblanket, under the shade of a bush, drew his hat over his eyes, and intwo minutes was fast asleep.

  It was well into the afternoon when the four Navajos rode bareback intocamp with their truant steeds that had caused all this delay. Manuelitasaw them arrive, and was glad to think that the hour for their finaldeparture had come; once more she looked across where Stephens was stillsleeping, and seeing that the babbling talk of the Indians, who werealready saddling up, did not rouse him, she went over to where he layand laid her hand lightly on his shoulder.

  "Oh, Don Estevan," she said in her softest voice; but it was as if shehad unwittingly touched the trigger of a gun. She was startled at thesuddenness with which he bounded to his feet, broad awake, rifle inhand, the ominous click-clack of the lever sounding loud as heinstinctively threw in a cartridge from the magazine; his flashing eyesdarted one swift glance around, and then in an instant he recognisedthat there was no need for disquiet.

  "Pshaw!" he said in half-apology, "I guess I was dreaming. Sorry if Istartled you, senorita. I suppose I'm on my nerve a bit with all thistrouble there's been." He looked at the sun. "By George! but it'safternoon already, and I thought I'd just lain down for a five-minutes'nap. That over there means the Navajos have come in with the losthorses, I suppose?" He indicated the busy folk a little way off, wherepreparations for the start were going on.

  "Yes," she answered, "they have but just arrived with them. That was whyI ventured to call you."

  "They must have had the dickens of a chase after them; those Indianponies are beggars to stray," he remarked, carefully working the leverso as to extract the cartridge from the chamber. "And there's nothinghappened, senorita, whilst I was asleep? All's quiet along the Potomac,eh?"

  "No," she answered, "nothing has happened. I think the Indians havebeen rather suspicious that they might be attacked; they've most of thembeen out in the brush all morning on the watch."

  "And you've been on watch here by the camp-fire," he said, "and I'vebeen sleeping there like a log when I might have been talking to you";he looked in her eyes with a smile as he rallied himself for his lack ofgallantry. "And you've made yourself smart for the home-coming, I see.That's right, senorita. You're not going to play the poor captive, notby no manner of means. We've just been out for a cheerful picnic party,we have, like those high-toned tenderfoot outfits that come out from theEast and go to camping out in South Park with an escort of Utes to dothem honour. Well, well; the pleasantest picnics have got to come to anend some time, and I see our escort under Mr. Mahletonkwa are reallythinking of starting. I'd better go and catch up Morgana, a
nd then we'llhave you home in three hours. How's that for high?"