CHAPTER V.
CAUGHT IN A TRAP.
But Ramon was not dead,—far from it, in fact. As Jack bent above himhe reached back, and with a swift, cat-like motion, whipped out a knifeand, balancing it on his palm for the fraction of a second, sent itwhistling past the lad’s ear.
Before he could rise the boy was upon him, and for a space of severalminutes they struggled on the uneven ground, the exhausted horselooking disinterestedly on. Had it not been for its recent punishmentit is likely that the brute might have interfered, for some of the ofttold tales along the border concerned the black’s love for its master.But as it was, it made no move, not even when Jack, holding Ramonpinned to the ground with one hand, with the other jerked loose thelasso from the saddle, by its hanging end, and rapidly proceeded tobind the Mexican fast.
“Adios, Ramon!” cried the boy, as, his task completed, he turned away.
Had the black horse not been so completely worn out it is likely thatJack might have commandeered him. But as it was, he deemed it wisestnot to bother with him.
And so he slipped away, leaving the exhausted horse and helpless masterside by side.
After traveling some distance Jack began to realize that his woodcraftwas seriously at fault somewhere. He had intended to make a detourwhich would bring him around the outlaw’s camp and enable him to reachtheir own bivouac unobserved.
Instead of this, as he now began to dread, he had apparently headedaltogether in the wrong direction, for the country into which heemerged after traversing the fern-brake and scrub-coppice, was of akind distinctly foreign to anything they had as yet encountered inMexico.
Almost bare of vegetation, it was riven and split as if by volcanicaction. The earth was of a reddish color, as if it had been seared byelemental fires, and the beetling cliffs rose threateningly on eitherside.
“What a gloomy place,” thought Jack, “it reminds me of that valley inwhich Sinbad the Sailor found the snakes and the diamonds. Wonder ifthere are any diamonds here? Tell you what, though, I’d give a wholehandful of the gems right now for a good square meal.”
The thought of the appetizing breakfast which had been preparing whenhe left camp made Jack hungrier than ever, a fact which he had nothad time heretofore to realize in the rapid march of events which hadoccurred since his departure.
The Border Boy looked about him carefully. He realized that if notactually lost, he was in grave danger of being so. The thoughtquickened his faculties and he set about gauging his position in realearnest. Having, by the aid of the sun, calculated the direction inwhich the Border Boys’ camp ought to lie, Jack struck out for it. Hisway led him across a corner of The Baked Land, as he had mentallychristened the dreary valley.
He was hastening forward when, suddenly, as he stepped into what seemeda patch of ferns and high grass, the solid ground seemed to vanish fromunder his feet.
Straight down shot the Border Boy, clutching desperately, as he fell,at projecting rocks and bits of growth; but none of these remained firmin his grasp.
For twenty feet or more the boy fell, and then suddenly his drop wasarrested by a heap of dried vegetation at the bottom of the pit orcrevasse into which his hurrying feet had led him.
So well had the deceitful growth on the edges of this gulf hidden it,that it was small wonder that Jack, in his haste, had not perceivedit. It was dark with a gloomy, damp sort of dusk in the bottom of thecrevasse, only a dim, greenish light filtering in from the top.
The reaction from his hopes of a few minutes before almost unnerved thelad for the nonce, but presently he marshalled his faculties and sethimself to the task of ascertaining exactly what had happened to him,and what means of escape presented itself.
At a single glance he could see that there was no hope of getting outof the subterranean trap by means of climbing up the walls. Althoughthey were rough and might have afforded a foothold, they overhung thefloor of the pit at such an angle that even a fly would have found itdifficult to maintain a foothold on them.
Yet rescue himself he must, or face death in that gloomy place. Withoutany definite idea in his mind, Jack struck off along the bottom of theabyss, which was overgrown with a short, coarse sort of grass of apallid green color.
As he moved along his progress was suddenly arrested. His foot hadencountered something that wriggled and squirmed horribly under hissole. It was a sickening sensation, this, of feeling that squirmy massunder his foot.
Jack stepped hastily back. As he did so something brown and mottledslid off through the grass, hissing angrily. As it went there came adry sort of sound, like the rattling of peas in a bladder. At the sametime a nauseating musky odor filled the air.
“This place may be alive with rattlers!” thought Jack, glancingnervously about him.
As he spoke he thought that from a dark corner at the further endof the rocky pit he could hear a sort of scuffling and rustling,unpleasantly suggestive of intertwined masses of scaly bodies writhingand contorting in snaky knots. At any rate, he decided to explore therift no further in that direction. Instead, he turned back and sittingdown on a projecting bit of rock,—after first carefully reviewing thesurroundings,—Jack set himself to some hard thinking.
If only he had possessed a rifle or a revolver,—or even a knife,—hissituation would have been different. By firing the weapons he mighthave attracted attention to his dilemma, and with the knife it mighthave been feasible to cut steps in the walls at some other part of thecrevasse.
Then, too, there is something in the mere feel of the good wood andsteel of a rifle that gives a fellow confidence and courage. It seemslike a friend or at least a protector. But poor Jack had none of thiscomfort He was trapped in the bowels of the earth with only his barehands to aid him out of his difficulties.
As it was unthinkable to dream of exploring the pit further in thedirection in which he felt sure lay the den of snakes, Jack finallydecided on striking off the other way. That he went carefully, youmay be sure. He did not want again to experience that wriggly, crawlyfeeling under his foot.
The crevasse seemed to be of considerable length. In fact, he estimatedthat he had walked some half mile or more before he reached whatseemed to be its confines. It ended abruptly in a steep wall of rock,and with its termination Jack’s hopes of escape vanished also. Fairlyunnerved, the boy sank down on a heap of dried fern and buried his facein his hands.
Was he to be buried alive in this horrible place?
Then he fell to shouting. He yelled and hulloed till his throat wasdry and sore, and his lips cracked. He knew that he ran considerablerisk of attracting the attention of the outlaws, but in his presentpredicament he didn’t much care what happened so long as he got out ofthe terrible place. But all his shouting came to naught, and after aninterval of waiting Jack realized that it had all been in vain.
What was he to do next? Nothing but to wait for rescue or—— But Jackwould not allow himself to complete the sentence.
“While there is life there is hope,” he murmured to himself, andinvoluntarily recalled the night when he had stood upon the tower ofthe old mission, a hundred feet above the ground, and deemed that hisend had come. Yet he had escaped from that dilemma, and more impossiblethings had happened than that he should get out of his present scrapealive.
All at once, while he sat thus meditating, the boy spied, not far abovehis head and only a short distance away, a dangling vine some twoinches in circumference, and seemingly tough and fibrous.
“It ought to bear my weight,” thought Jack, “and if only it will, I’llget out of this hideous place yet.”
He began making brave efforts to reach the trailing tendon. Time andagain, with hands that were cut and bleeding from the rough surfaceof the rock, he was compelled to desist in his efforts, but at last,mustering his waning strength, he made a mighty leap. His fingersclosed on the vine and he drew himself upward. But as the boy’s fullweight came upon the green trailer it snapped abruptly, and Jack wasthrown violently to the ground.
The Border Boys with the Mexican Rangers Page 5