The Edward S. Ellis Megapack

by Edward S. Ellis

  “Have you thought of it?”

  The hunter would not reply to this direct question except to say:

  “We’ll have to wait and see.”

  And so Jack and Fred were left as much in doubt as before; but, it may be added, with their belief in the friendship of the Sioux unshaken. They reasoned that their guide was so accustomed to seeing the worst side of the red men that he found it hard to believe any good of them. As for themselves, they would feel no further anxiety over the enmity of Motoza, for had he not shown the best possible proof that could be asked of his good-will?

  Inasmuch as Hank had given them a series of surprises by his questions and remarks, Jack Dudley now turned the tables on him by saying:

  “Yesterday afternoon, when we looked down into that deep canyon over yonder, we shouted to you at the bottom, but suppose the noise of the water prevented your hearing us. At any rate, you gave us no attention.”

  The hunter was astonished, as he showed by his start and inquiring look.

  “So you seen me, did you?”

  “We did, and wondered what you were doing there.”

  Hank laughed in his silent way, as if it were all a joke, but did not offer any explanation. Evidently he had some business down there, but, like most of his kind, was not inclined to make known his secrets when the necessity did not exist.

  “What a tremendous climb that was! And it must have been dangerous to pick your way down the side of the canyon.”

  “I s’pose it would have been if I’d done it, but I didn’t.”

  “Then the canyon cannot be as extended as we thought?”

  “That depends on how long you thought it was. As near as I can find out, it is between sixty and seventy miles.”

  Not wishing to persist in speaking in riddles, Hank added:

  “Howsumever, though it’s as long as I said, there’s a break not fur away, where the banks ain’t more than a few feet above the stream. The break isn’t large, but it don’t have to be. You obsarved that the stream runs into the mountains. It seems to be making a dive fur t’other side, as if it meant to make fur the Pacific, but it gives it up and comes back after a while, and finds its way into the Wind River, and so on to the Big Horn and the Missouri.”

  “Then you came up the canyon from the break and went back again?”

  “I didn’t say that. I come up to where you seed me, but instead of going back I climbed the side to the top.”

  “Gracious, what a task! It must be a thousand feet.”

  “It isn’t much less, but the sides of the canyon are so rough that it’s just like so many steps. I’ve done it often, and ain’t the only one. Bart and Mort tried both ways and like the climb better, though Kansas Jim would never take it. Don’t furgit one thing, younkers. When you have a job like that afore you it’s a good deal easier to climb up than it is to climb down. If you should find yourself at the bottom of the canyon and hit the right spot, you’ll larn that the work is easier going up than you think, but it’s too resky going down for any one to try.”

  The boys hoped their friend would tell them why he had entered the gorge, when the act at best was exhausting and accompanied by more or less peril, but he ignored their curiosity, and they did not feel warranted in questioning him. When he thought it well he would tell them, and they could afford to wait until then.

  The day was as perfect in its way as its predecessor. The blue sky showed only a few fleecy clouds at wide intervals, and the sun shone with a strength that made its warmth perceptible even in that elevated region. The boys began to feel impatient to be moving. A good many days yet remained to them, but they were all too few to satisfy their longing for the inspiriting life they had entered upon with so much zest.

  As the three stood, the backs of Jack and Fred were toward the cavern, in which the fire had been burning, while the hunter faced them. He now turned and looked off over the wild, precipitous mountains by which they were surrounded. The youths, who were observing him, saw him fix his eyes on a point to the right, at which he gazed so long and steadily that it was evident he had discovered something of more than usual interest. Following the same direction they looked keenly, but were unable to detect anything out of the ordinary.

  Despite his own fixity of gaze, Hank noted what they were doing, and turning abruptly toward them, asked:

  “Do you obsarve anything ’tic’lar?”

  “Nothing more than what we have seen,” replied Jack. “There are the mountain peaks, most of them reaching above the snow-line; the dark masses below; the scrubby pines, with more abundant vegetation, still further down.”

  “Do you see that crag that juts out from the side of the lower part of that peak?” asked Hank, extending his hand in the direction indicated.

  Thus aided, both boys looked at the exact spot. It was below the snow-line, where only a few of the rocks showed, because of the numerous pines which grew luxuriantly; but, keen as was their eyesight, they were unable to detect the first sign of moving thing or life.

  “Try your glasses on it,” said Hank.

  The boys brought the instruments round in front and levelled them at the point of interest. As they did so they made a discovery. From the very centre of the clump of wood rose a thin, shadowy line of vapor, which was dissolved in the clear air before it ascended more than a few feet above the tree-tops.

  “So you obsarve it at last,” said the hunter, after they had told what they saw. “Wal, now study it closer, and tell me if you notice anything queer ’bout the same.”

  Wondering what he could mean, they did as he requested. A minute later Fred said:

  “The smoke does not ascend steadily; first it shows plainly, then there is none, and then it shows again.”

  “Seems to keep it up, eh?”

  “Yes, like the puffs from the smoke-stack of a locomotive, only they are a great deal slower,” explained Jack; “but the smoke soon dissolves in the clear air.”

  “Not soon enough, though, to keep you from obsarving what we’ve been talking about?”

  “No; it is too plain to be mistaken.”

  “Did you ever see the smoke of a camp-fire act like that?”

  “Never; have you?”

  “Many a time; that’s an Injin signal-fire.”

  This was interesting, but caused nothing in the nature of fear on the part of the boys. It was Fred who remarked:

  “The Indians must be signaling to some one.”

  “Exactly.”

  “It can’t be to us?”

  “Not much; it’s to another party of Injins, and that other party is calling back to ’em. See whether you can find t’other signal.”

  The boys moved the points of their glasses back and forth and up and down, but it was not until their guide again pointed out the right spot that they located the second signal. Indeed the vapor was so fine and feathery that it was wonderful how Hank himself had been so quick to note it.

  The points were of about the same elevation, and separated by a distance of some two miles. Peak and valley, gorge and canyon, rock and boulder in profusion lay between. No doubt could remain that two parties of Indians were telegraphing messages back and forth, and that they were understood by each party.

  As yet the boys failed to see that the matter was of any special concern to them, though it was interesting to know that they were not the only ones who were hunting in that section.

  “I suppose,” said Jack, “that the parties are from the reservation and are signaling to each other about the game.”

  “That may be,” replied Hank, after some hesitation, “but I ain’t quite sure we ain’t the game they’re signaling ’bout.”

  “They wouldn’t dare disturb us!” exclaimed Fred.

  “Not in the open; but don’t furgit what I obsarved to you some time ago that an Injin, when he feels purty sartin of not being found out, ain’t to be trusted. Now, younkers, I may be all wrong, but if I am, nothing won’t be lost by acting as if I was right; whe
reas if I’m right and we don’t act that way, the mischief will be to pay.”

  “How shall we make sure?”

  “By keeping our eyes open; when we’re hunting fur game, look out that some of the redskins ain’t hunting fur us. I think that confounded Motoza has a finger in this pie.”

  Without explaining further, the hunter rested the stock of his gun on the ground and leaned upon it in profound meditation. He paid no attention to his companions, but continued gazing in the direction of the first signal-fire he had noticed, and was evidently turning over some scheme in his mind.

  Had he been alone he would have given no further attention to the signs, which might mean nothing or a good deal, for he felt able to take care of himself, no matter in what situation he was placed; but he considered that to a large extent the safety of the two boys, who were totally without experience in these solitudes, rested upon him. He must take no chances that were avoidable.

  “Younkers,” he suddenly said, rousing himself, “I must larn more ’bout this bus’ness; I’m off; don’t go so fur from this place that you can’t git back tonight; I’ll be here and have some news fur you.”

  And with this parting he strode across the plateau on his way deeper into the mountains.

  CHAPTER XI.

  A KING OF THE FOREST.

  The boys remained standing at the mouth of the cavern until the guide disappeared on the other side of the little plateau. Then they looked at each other and smiled.

  “Well, it appears that we are to have another day to ourselves,” said Jack; “and we can’t gain anything by waiting, so let’s be off.”

  Nothing could be more satisfactory to Fred, and the two took nearly the same course as their friend, who passed from sight but a short time before. They had no intention, however, of following him, for that would have been displeasing to the veteran, who, had he desired their company, would have asked for it.

  Without any definite object in mind, they took substantially the route of the previous afternoon. Sooner than they anticipated, they found themselves on the margin of the canyon that had been the scene of so stirring an experience, but the point where they reached it was deeper in the mountains.

  “Jack, we can’t be very far from that break that Hank spoke of; let’s hunt it up.”

  “I am willing; but before we do so we’ll peep over the side, to see whether he or anyone else is there.”

  No change was to be noted in the appearance of the tiny stream at the enormous depth, but neither friend nor stranger was in sight. They did not expect to see any one, and began moving along the side of the stupendous fissure in their search for the place where Hank had entered it. From what he said it could not be far off, but they were disappointed before reaching the right point. A gradual descent of the sides was notable, and continued until the depth of the canyon was decreased one-half, while the roar became more audible.

  “We can’t be far from the break,” said Jack; “that is, if this descent continues.”

  They found, however, a few minutes later, that it did not continue, but began to increase, until they were fully as elevated above the bottom of the gorge as at the point where they had leaped it. The width also varied continually, sometimes being only three or four feet, while in others it expanded to nearly ten times that extent. They did not pause to look over the margin again, for their aim was to reach the place referred to by their friend.

  At the moment when they began to wonder whether a mistake had not been made they came upon the break. Both banks sloped downward so abruptly that it would have been laborious for the two to work their way to the bottom, or from the bottom to the top, though the masses of boulders, with the tough pines growing almost the whole distance, offered secure foothold.

  The picture was an interesting one. At the point where the stream issued from the canyon, its width was about twenty yards. It flowed swiftly, but quickly slackened its pace, since its expansion was fully a hundred feet. This flowed for probably double that distance, when the high banks again appeared, and what may be called the regular canyon was resumed.

  Jack and Fred sat down to survey the curious picture. They noticed that the canyon seemed to be dotted at intervals with rocks, some of which rose to a considerable height above the current. Many were near one side or the other, while others were in the middle of the swift stream, which dashed against them with a violence that threw the spray and foam high in air. It was easy to believe that Hank Hazletine had made his way up the canyon by leaping from rock to rock, with little more result than the wetting of his shoes.

  “It might be done in the daytime,” said Jack, “but I should not want to try it at night.”

  “The water must be very deep in many places; and flows so fast that the strongest swimmer couldn’t help himself. I should prefer to climb the wall, as Hank did.”

  “But that would be dangerous in the darkness.”

  “The best thing we can do is to do neither,” observed Fred, with a laugh. “I have a good deal of curiosity to know what led Hank to pick his way up the canyon, but I haven’t enough to lead me to follow him—”

  Jack Dudley suddenly gripped the arm of his friend and drew him back from the boulder on which they had been sitting. Fred nearly lost his balance, and did not know what to make of the proceeding until both checked themselves at a safe distance and cautiously peeped forth. Then the cause of Jack’s excitement became apparent.

  From the pines on the other side of the stream, and near the middle of the depressed portion, three Indians stepped into view. The first anxiety of the youths was to learn whether Motoza was one of them; but he was not. All were strangers.

  They were dressed much the same as the vagrant Sioux, and, like him, their faces were painted, and their coarse black hair dangled loosely about their shoulders. They were armed with rifles; but two of the weapons seemed to be the long, old-fashioned muzzle-loaders, while the third carried a Winchester. Although they emerged from the pines in Indian file, they spread apart and walked beside one another to the edge of the broad stream, where they stopped, as if that were the end of their journey.

  Their gestures showed they were talking energetically, though of course not the slightest murmur reached the youths, who took care to screen themselves from view while cautiously peeping forth. Even after the warning words of their guide they felt no special alarm, for they believed the red men were from the reservation near by, and would not harm any one. If they attempted it, Jack and Fred felt they had the advantage of position, sheltered behind the rocks, far above their enemies, down upon whom they could fire with their Winchesters, should the necessity arise.

  It was quite certain that the three belonged to one of the hunting parties whose signal-smoke the boys had seen earlier in the day. Their action was curious. They did not look up the bank, so that the boys might have been more careless without being discovered; but it was apparent that two of them were arguing with the third, who was more excited than either of his companions. Finally he turned away and made as if to pass up the canyon, after the manner of Hank Hazletine. He leaped out upon one of the rocks, then bounded as lightly to another, and then to a third, which took him within the canyon. The others watched him without protest or action.

  Evidently the Indian who had started off so hurriedly was more impulsive than his companions, for after his third leap he remained standing on the rock; and, although it would have been easy for him to spring to the next leading up the canyon, he refrained from doing do. Instead, he looked around, and then deliberately rejoined his friends, who showed no surprise over his reverse movement. They spoke only a few words to one another, when they moved back in Indian file toward the growth of pines, among which they passed from sight and were seen no more.

  “That was a queer performance,” remarked Jack; “it looked to me as if that first fellow wanted his companions to go up the canyon with him, and when they refused he started off by himself.”

  “Only to change his mind.”
/>
  “There can be no doubt of that; but it strikes me as strange that there should be something up there to attract them as well as Hank.”

  “Some day Hank will tell us about it. Do you observe, young man, that the forenoon is well along and we haven’t had a sight of any game?”

  With no thought of the Indians whom they had just seen, the boys began retracing their steps. Inasmuch as it was on the other side of the gorge that they had gained the shot at the buck, the feeling was strong that they should pass it again and push their hunt in that direction.

  It did not require long to find a spot where the fissure was easily leaped. In fact, the exploit was becoming quite an everyday thing with them.

  “We are not far from the spot where we killed that rattler yesterday,” said Fred, recognizing several landmarks. “I wonder whether there are any more near us—”

  At that instant Fred uttered a gasp and leaped several feet from the ground, while his companion was hardly a second behind him. Both had heard the well-remembered whir at the same moment, and bounded away several steps before pausing to look back.

  Remarkable as it might seem, a second specimen of the crotalus, fully as large as the other, lay on the flat surface of a rock only a few inches above the ground. Evidently it was sunning itself when thus disturbed by the approach of the young hunters, at sight of whom it threw itself into coil. The boys were not in danger, for the warning was sounded while they were still a number of paces distant.

  Feeling safe, they stood still and surveyed the hideous thing. They agreed that it was larger than the other, and seemed to be darker in color. But for the fact that the reptiles were on opposite sides of the canyon, it might be believed they were mates. The head and tail were elevated, the latter vibrating with the swift, hazy appearance at the end of the rattles which they had noted before.