CHAPTER XXVI
THE SNAKE'S VERDICT
In that desperate moment Stephens felt that he was respited as by amiracle. The bullet had missed him. He dropped his right hand on to thewall over which the weapon had been fired, and clearing it with a mightybound, lit right on top of someone recocking a discharged pistol. Hiseyes, dazzled by the fire glare, saw nothing, but he grappled him by thefeel on the instant; with one powerful twist of his body he whirled hisopponent off his legs and flung him to the ground, going down with himhimself and falling heavily upon him. The Indian--he knew him for anIndian as he grappled with him by the blanket he wore--felt like a childin his grip. He seized him by the throat with the left hand and chokedhim, his right holding the left arm of the other and pinning him to theground. What he had to fear now was that the free right arm would dealhim some deadly blow with knife or pistol, and he tightened his grasp onthe muscular throat to choke the life out of him. Then he suddenlyrealised that his foe was mastered, and he lifted his weight partly offhis chest, still, however, kneeling on him with one knee and bearing himdown with his hands.
And now his eyes were growing accustomed to the dark, and he coulddistinguish the features of the man under him. "By George!" he cried,"but it's Felipe. Why, you murderous young cub, what devilment are youup to now?"
But the Indian youth lay helpless under his knee, gasping, and made noanswer. That strangling grasp on his throat had nearly finished him off.
Still holding him down, Stephens ran his eyes around to see if otherfoes were near. The moon was very low now, but its level rays castsufficient light to allow him to discern that there was no enemy visibleanywhere. He listened intently, but no sound came to him except thelaboured breathing of the prostrate Indian. He longed for Faro. "If I'donly got you along, old man," thought he, "this young devil would neverhave been able to get the drop on me the way he did; and now you'd beable to tell me whether there were any more mean hounds like him layingfor me. I wonder if there are any more around?" For several minutes heremained motionless like this, but there was no sign of anyone tosuccour the fallen man. The discharged pistol was lying on the groundwithin arm's length. He reached out and picked it up, his left hand andknee still firmly pressing his antagonist against the ground. He lookedthe revolver over; it was a good weapon, he could tell that much, but hecould not recognise it. He had mended many weapons for the Santiagopeople during the winter, and the thought had occurred to him that hemight chance to know this one, but on examination he did not remember tohave ever set eyes on it before.
Felipe, under his knee, lay perfectly still, and his breathing wasbecoming more regular. Laying the pistol down behind him, Stephens feltfor the boy's belt, and unbuckled it and dragged it from under him; itcarried a knife in its sheath as well as the holster for the pistol. Heput these behind him likewise, away from his prisoner's hand. Again hepaused and listened for the sound of possible enemies approaching; buthe could hear nothing whatever. He felt his own revolver, to make sureit was all right in its place, and he thought of his Winchester lying inits case by his saddle, the other side of the wall. If an enemy were tosneak up and grab that, he, Stephens, would be in a fix. He took hisweight off his knee for a moment, so as to lighten the pressure onFelipe's body. "Who's with you, you young ruffian?" he asked.
"No one, Sooshiuamo," replied the boy. The breath was fast coming backto his lungs; he spoke audibly, but with difficulty.
"Don't call me Sooshiuamo, you wretch! Do you mean to say you're hereall alone? If you lie to me now I'll kill you right here."
"Yes, sir," said Felipe, "I'm alone."
Stephens hesitated; he knew Felipe well enough to judge, by the way hespoke, that he was telling the truth; but he was much puzzled to accountfor this murderous attack. Various theories flitted through his brain.He had not a single enemy in the pueblo that he knew of, the caciqueperhaps excepted; but the cacique, of all men, was the most unlikely toselect Felipe to do this trick. Could this attack be intended as apunishment on him for violating some old superstition of theirs, bymaking a fire here in the ruined pueblo? Such a thing might be amplejustification for murdering him, from their point of view, as he hadreason to know. Their behaviour over the blasting of the ditch was proofenough of how strongly they could feel about things that shocked theirreligious susceptibilities. But how could they have known of his crimewhen he had only found the spot an hour ago? He determined tocross-question his prisoner.
"Who set you on to murder me?" he asked.
Felipe hesitated. "Nobody," he said finally.
"Do you mean to tell me you did it on your own hook?" he asked,incredulous.
"Yes, sir."
"Where d'you get that pistol?" Stephens knew he didn't own one.
"I bought it."
"Where?"
"In San Remo."
"Who sold it to you?"
"The storekeeper."
"Mr. Backus?"
"Yes, sir."
A light began to dawn upon Stephens. Backus undoubtedly had a grudgeagainst him.
"Did he put you up to this?" he asked.
Felipe was silent.
"Answer me; mind you, your life's at stake."
"Partly he did."
"Partly, you say. What do you mean? Who else?"
"Partly myself."
"You young scallywag! What did you want to kill me for?"
Felipe hesitated, but he felt the knee of the man who had him down beginto press harder again. "Because of Josefa," he said, with evidentreluctance.
"Explain yourself, you idiot. Because of Josefa? Why, it was I who savedher. Don't you know that much?"
"You took her away," said Felipe sulkily.
"Of course I did, you ninny. What would you have had me do? Leave herwith her father to be beaten to death? You're a plumb idiot."
"You needn't have taken her, though, for yourself," rejoined the boy.
"Oh, you make me tired!" said Stephens; "if that's all you've got tokill me for, get up." He released the young Indian, taking care,however, to retain possession of the belt and pistol and knife. Felipescrambled to his feet rather unsteadily.
"I've a mind to boot you all the way back to the pueblo," said Stephensdisgustedly; "not for trying to blow the top of my head off, though youdeserve it for missing me at only four feet away, but for being such aloony idiot as to think that. By Jimini! I haven't got language to saywhat I think of you. Why, you--you--you galoot! when did you ever knowme go to carrying on with any of the women in the pueblo? You ought toknow me better by this time."
Felipe looked abashed.
"You all but did for yourself," he went on,--"that is, if you'd onlyknown it; and I'm not sure that you haven't now. Why, I took her overfrom her family thinking to give her to you, but I'm dashed if I knowwhether I'd ought to now. There's too many blanked fools in this worldalready to make it worth while to help to set more of 'em going.However, we'll see what she's got to say about you. If she has a fancyfor marrying an escaped lunatic, I suppose she'll have to have her way.Come, I'm going back to the fire; walk through that door there and we'llgo in. Here, take your belt, but I'm dashed if you're to be trusted witha loaded pistol any more than if you were a three-year-old baby." Heraised the Colt above his head and rapidly discharged the five loadedchambers one after another in the air.
It was the report of those shots that attracted the attention of thestorekeeper far off on the hillside. The two entered the cave-dwelling,Felipe holding himself very stiffly as he moved.
"I don't wonder you're stiff," said the American, observing him; "I musthave pretty near squeezed the life out of you, and serves you right." Hewas still very angry.
"It isn't that," said Felipe, feeling his dignity assailed; "my shoulderis very sore; I have a bullet wound in it."
"The mischief, you have," said Stephens. "I suppose you got that fromthe cacique. I guess it must have hurt you some when I was mauling youjust now." His voice softened a bit. "Of course I couldn't know aboutthat"; he was
actually apologising already to his would-be murderer."Here, bring it to the light of the fire and let me see it." Felipesquatted down with his right shoulder towards the blaze. "H'm, yes, anugly place, rather," examining it carefully, "but it's been well doneup"; he smelt it, "you've got that carbolic on it; good stuff for agunshot wound, in my opinion. Say, where d'you get any round here?"
"Mr. Backus," answered the boy.
"Oh, from him. Seems to me he's been having a good deal to say to youlately. Who dressed this for you?" He replaced the bandage.
"Mr. Backus."
"Well, he understands gunshot wounds pretty well, but you take my adviceand don't have any more to do with him for the present. He aint goodcompany for young gentlemen with no more brains than you--Hullo! what'sthat? Didn't you hear something out yonder?"
A faint cry appeared to come from a distance.
"It sounds like a man," said Felipe.
The cry was repeated; it seemed like the word "Help!"
"Come on," cried Stephens, snatching his Winchester from the case andrunning into the darkness in the direction from which the sound seemedto come. Felipe followed him.
"Help!" came again more distinctly.
In another minute they were on the spot where the body of a man laywrithing on the ground face downwards. Stephens stooped and raised him,and beheld his enemy, Backus.
He let him drop on the ground again as if he had unexpectedly picked upa snake, and sprang back grasping his rifle at the ready. Could this besome infernal trap? Had Felipe been deceiving him?
"Did you lie to me?" There was a dangerous ring in his voice. "I askedyou if you were alone, and you said you were, and here's the man who'syour confederate, by your own confession."
"Before God, I didn't know he was here," cried the boy very earnestly."What's the matter with him? He's dying."
"He deserves to die," said the prospector, looking down at him.
"Whiskey," moaned Backus brokenly; "I'm snake-bit."
"Snake-bit, are you?" said the prospector, still suspicious. "Well, ifyou are that's rather rough on you. Where are you struck?"
"In the face," said the wretched man. "For God's sake help me; thispain's maddening. I'm going to die."
"Lift his head up, Felipe," said Stephens, "and let me see the place.Great Scot! I should say you were snake-bit, and powerful bad, too," headded, as the young Indian lifted the head of the fallen man and turnedit so as to show the face. It was a ghastly sight! The whole of the leftcheek and side of the head were swollen out of all recognition, and thepuffed and strained skin was so discoloured that it looked like a massof livid bruises.
His first suspicion had been that the cunning storekeeper had set Felipeon him, and then, finding that the Indian had failed in his murderousattack, had adopted the heartless but too common ruse of shamming sick,in order to get his antagonist at a disadvantage. Stephens had sprungbackward, and was standing now with his Winchester, ready at any momentto pump lead into his would-be murderers; but the awful condition of hisenemy was proof sufficient that there was no sham about this case.Holding his rifle in one hand, he advanced, and with the other aidedFelipe to raise the fallen man to a sitting posture.
"When did it happen?" he asked.
"Just now."
The stricken man's breathing was painfully laboured, and he spoke withextreme difficulty, so that it was hard to understand him.
"Have you any whiskey?" Stephens inquired.
"No."
"Have you done anything for it?"
"No."
"There's nothing you could have done that I know of," said Stephens; "Iwas thinking whether I could try to lance it for you, but I'm afraid ofcutting an artery. Of course, Felipe, it isn't possible that you couldhave any whiskey?"
"No, indeed, Sooshiuamo," said the boy; "how could I?"
"No, no, of course you couldn't," said the prospector; "and I haven'tany neither. If we had a quart of whiskey here we might be able to savehim. The only thing we can do is to keep him moving. Look here, Felipe,you lift him under the right shoulder and I'll lift him under the left;we must walk him around. Now then, up!" Between them they raised theunhappy man to his feet.
"Come on," cried Stephens, "hold him up. Steady now."
They walked forward as steadily as they could in the direction of thecave-dwelling, Backus staggering along between them. His legs wentthrough the motions of walking almost mechanically, but his weightrested entirely on his two supporters, and he was a heavy man to carry.
"Stick to it, Felipe," said Stephens, "it's the only chance for him.Keep him going." They reached the cave. "Set him down here a minutebefore the fire," said Stephens, putting aside his rifle, and with bothhands lowering the patient to the ground, after spreading his blanketfor him to lie on. Backus was in a state of appalling collapse; theswelling increased so rapidly that it seemed as if his head must burst;the inflamed skin was horribly mottled with red and green and yellow,and a cold sweat broke out on him. Stephens knelt beside him and felthis pulse; it was rapid, fluttering, and feeble.
Felipe looked on, awestruck and speechless. That the prospector shouldtry to preserve the life of his enemy did not appeal to him at all; itseemed to him only one more of the unaccountable things these Americansdid. But the frightful state of the storekeeper, and the agonising painshe was suffering were the work of the dread reptile he had been taughtto reverence from his earliest days. The gods were angry with Backus,and this was their doing.
Stephens felt that the stricken man's hands were growing deadly cold. Hesprang up. "Come on, Felipe!" he exclaimed, rising quickly again to hisfeet. "He's at the last gasp, I think. We must try to walk him up anddown again. It's the one thing we can do."
They raised him to his feet once more, Stephens putting his right armround his waist, and steadying him with the other, and, Felipe aiding,they walked him to and fro on the meadow, trying to counteract the fatallethargy produced by the bite.
"He must have got an awful dose of poison into him," said Stephens, asthey struggled along with their now nearly unconscious burden. "I guessit must have been a snake that had been lying up for the winter, and hadonly just come out now the warm weather's beginning. They're worst ofall then; their poison-bag has a full charge in it."
But Felipe made no answer; he was not affected by the scientificquestion as to how many drops of venom there might be in a serpent'spoison-gland. For him the question was, "Had the god struck to kill? orwould he be content to punish and pardon?" But as he looked at thelolling head and dragging limbs of the victim he felt that the god hadstruck to kill.
At this moment the moon sank beneath the horizon.
"I guess he's come to the jumping-off place," said Stephens, as Backussank into absolute unconsciousness. "Let's carry him right back to thefire."
Once more they laid him down beside that prehistoric hearth, and theruddy glow lit up the horrid spectacle of his distorted face. They triedto warm him and keep the life in him a little longer; but it was invain. The laboured breath came slower and slower; the feeble pulse waxedfainter and fainter; the chill hand of death was there, and nought thatthey could do was of any avail; and after a little while Stephens wasaware that the thing that lay in front of the fire was but a disfiguredcorpse.
Between them, he and Felipe raised it, and laid it at one side of thedwelling, and covered it from sight with the blanket. When they returnedto the fire, they stood there side by side gazing at the embers in along silence. They stood as it were in the presence of death, andneither the white man nor the red had any mind to break the solemnity ofthe scene.
Suddenly there came a low, rustling, slithering sound from the stones inthe corner behind them, as a large snake glided out across the floor,and swiftly vanished into the darkness without.
Stephens gave an involuntary shudder. "That brute must have been in thecorner there all the time I was here," he said.
"Yes, Sooshiuamo," answered Felipe in an awestruck voice, "he was there,but he did not touch y
ou. Now he has gone to tell his brother who struckyour enemy that he is dead. The snakes must be your friends; they do nothurt you; they only kill your enemies for you"; and as if impelled topenitence by what he regarded as a supernatural warning, he turned tothe prospector and poured out in a flood a full confession of all he hadheard and seen and suspected of Backus's schemes, and of his dealingswith the Navajos.
Stephens listened aghast. Mahletonkwa certainly had told him that hismessage to the governor had been stopped, but he had been loath tobelieve that a white man could play such a treacherous game, and sidewith savages against his own countryman. It was natural for the Americanto prefer to think that the Navajo had lied; but, if Felipe spoke true,the wretched man who lay dead before them had really and actually soldhim into the hands of the Navajos. Then arose the question--what hadbeen his object? There might be more dangers around, more plots thatFelipe knew nothing of? "I never liked him, it's true, but why should heplay such a mean trick merely for that? If he really did destroy myletters asking for the soldiers, he must have done it that very hourthat I gave them to him. It wasn't till the next day that I knocked himinto the ditch, so he couldn't have done it out of revenge for that blowI gave him. I wonder, now, if he could have kept a grudge against me forthat old wound at Apache Canyon? Some folks find it mighty hard toforgive."
"Well," he continued aloud, addressing Felipe, "I sha'n't bear anymalice against you, young 'un. I reckon that--well--that fellow justused you, and you aint much more to blame than an idiot--pity you hadn'tgot more sense; but that's enough--I'll never think of it again."
Felipe looked up at him with dumb gratitude in his eyes.
"And now," said the prospector, when the misunderstanding between themhad been thus settled, "the morning star is up, and it will be dawndirectly. We must take the body down to San Remo that it may be buriedby his own people."
He went out to the meadow and brought up the horse and put the saddle onhim. With no small difficulty they lifted the corpse on to it and madeit fast there, and then, with Felipe at the horse's head, and Stephensholding the sad burden in place, they made their way back to the trail,and so down once more from the sierra to the village.
Lone Pine: The Story of a Lost Mine Page 27