The Silver Canyon

by Fenn, George Manville

  * * *

  Chapter Seven.

  Another Alarm.

  To the surprise and satisfaction of Bart, all was well in the camp at daybreak when he looked round; the horses were grazing contentedly at the end of their tether ropes, and the Indians were just stirring, and raking together the fire that had been smouldering all the night.

  Breakfast was prepared, and they were about to partake thereof, when the Doctor took counsel with Joses as to what was best to be done.

  “Do you think they will molest us now?” he asked.

  “No, master, I don’t think so, but there’s no knowing how to take an Indian. I should be very careful about the horses though, for a good horse is more than an Indian can resist.”

  “I have thought the same; and it seems to me that we had better stay here until this party has gone, for I don’t want them to be following us from place to place.”

  “There’s a band of ’em somewhere not far away,” said Joses, “depend upon it, so p’r’aps it will be best to wait till we see which way they go, and then go totherwise.”

  Soon after breakfast the chief came up to the waggon and held out his arm to be examined, smiling gravely, and looking his satisfaction, as it was very plain that a great deal of the swelling had subsided.

  This went on for some days, during which the Indians seemed perfectly content with their quarters, they having found a better supply of water; and to show their friendliness, they made foraging expeditions, and brought in game which they shared in a very liberal way.

  This was all very well, but still it was not pleasant to have them as neighbours, and several times over the Doctor made up his mind to start and continue his expedition, and this he would have done but for the fact of his being sure that their savage friends, for this they now seemed to be, would follow them.

  At the end of ten days the chief’s arm had wonderfully altered, and with it his whole demeanour, the healthy, active life he led conducing largely towards the cure. But he was always quiet and reserved, making no advances, and always keeping aloof with his watchful little band.

  “We are wasting time horribly,” said the Doctor, one morning. “We’ll start at once.”

  “Why not wait till night and steal off?” said Maude.

  “Because we could not hide our trail,” said Bart. “The Indians could follow us. I think it will be best to let them see we don’t mind them, and go away boldly.”

  “That’s what I mean to do,” said the Doctor, and directly they had ended their meal, the few arrangements necessary were made, and after going and shaking hands all round with the stolid Indians, the horses were mounted, the waggon set in motion, and they rode back along the valley. Passing the Indian camp, they arrived at the opening through which, bearing off to the west, the Indians reached the plains, and for hours kept on winding in and out amongst the hills.

  It was after sundown that the Doctor called a halt in the wild rocky part that they had reached, a short rest in the very heat of the day being the only break which they had had in their journey. In fact, as darkness would soon be upon them, it would have been madness to proceed farther, the country having become so broken and wild that it would have been next to impossible to proceed without wrecking the waggon.

  Their usual precautions were taken as soon as a satisfactory nook was found with a fair supply of water, and soon after sunrise next morning, all having been well during the night, the Doctor and Bart started for a look round while breakfast was being prepared, Bart taking his rifle, as there was always the necessity for supplying the wants of the camp.

  “I wonder whether we shall see any more of the Indians,” said Bart, as they climbed up amongst the rocks to what looked almost like a gateway formed by a couple of boldly scarped masses, in whose strata lines various plants and shrubs maintained a precarious existence.

  “I wonder they have not followed us before now,” replied the Doctor. “Mind how you come. Can you climb it?”

  For answer, Bart leaped up to where the Doctor had clambered as easily as a mountain sheep, and after a little farther effort they reached the gate-like place, to find that it gave them a view right out on to the partly-wooded country beyond. For they had left the level, changeless plain on the other side of the rocks, and the sight of a fresh character of country was sufficient to make the Doctor eagerly take the little telescope he carried in a sling, and begin to sweep the horizon.

  As he did so, he let fall words about the beauty of the country.

  “Splendid grazing land,” he said, “well-watered. We must have a stay here.” Then lowering his glass, so as to take the landscape closer in, he uttered an ejaculation of astonishment.

  “Why, Bart,” he said, “I’m afraid here are the Indians Joses saw that night.”

  “Let me look, sir,” cried Bart, stretching out his hand for the glass, but only to exclaim, “I can see them plainly enough without. Why, they cannot be much more than a mile away.”

  “And they seem to be journeying in our direction,” replied the Doctor. “Let’s get back quickly, and try if we cannot find another hiding-place for the waggon.”

  Hurrying back, Bart started the idea that these might be the main body of their friendly Indians.

  “So much the better for us, Master Bart, but I’m afraid that we shall not be so lucky again.”

  “I half fancied I saw our chief amongst them,” said Bart, giving vent to his sanguine feelings.

  “More than half fancy, Bart,” replied the Doctor, “for there he sits upon his horse.”

  He pointed with his glass, and, to Bart’s astonishment, there in the little wilderness of rocks that they had made their halting-place for the night, was the chief with his eleven followers who were already tethering their horses, and making arrangements to take up their quarters close by them as of old.

  “Do you think they mean to continue friendly?” asked Bart uneasily, for he could not help thinking how thoroughly they were at the mercy of the Indians if they proved hostile.

  “I cannot say,” replied the Doctor. “But look here, Bart, take the chief with you up to the gap, and show him the party beyond. His men may not have seen them, and we shall learn perhaps whether they are friends or foes.”

  On reaching the waggon, as no attempt was made by the Indians to join them or resume intercourse, Bart went straight up to the chief, and made signs to him to follow, which he proceeded to do upon his horse, but upon Bart, pointing upwards to the rocky ascent, he leaped off lightly, and the youth noticed that he was beginning to make use of his injured arm.

  In a very short time they had climbed to the opening between the rocks, where, upon seeing that there was open country beyond, the Indian at once crouched and approached cautiously, dropping flat upon the earth next moment, and crawling over the ground with a rapidity that astonished his companion, who was watching his face directly after, to try and read therefrom whether he belonged to the band of Indians in the open park in the land beyond.

  To Bart’s surprise, the chief drew back quickly, his face changed, and his whole figure seemed to be full of excitement.

  He said a few words rapidly, and then, seeing that he was not understood, he began to make signs, pointing first to the opening out into the plain, and then taking out his knife, and striking with it fiercely. Then he pointed once more to the opening, and to his wounded arm, going through the motions of one drawing a bow.

  “Friends, friends, friends,” he then said in a hoarse whisper, repeating the Doctor’s word, and then shaking his head and spitting angrily upon the ground, and striking with his knife.

  He then signed to Bart, to follow, and ran down the steep slope just as one of his followers cantered hastily up.

  Both had the same news to tell in the little camp, and though the Doctor could not comprehend the Indian chief’s dialect, his motions were significant enough, as he rapidly touched the barrels of his followers’ rifles, and then those of the white party, repeating the word, “Fri
ends.”

  The next moment he had given orders which sent a couple of his men up the rocks, to play the part of scouts, while he hurriedly scanned their position, and chose a sheltered place, a couple of hundred yards back, where there was ample room for the horses and waggon, which were quietly taken there, the rocks and masses of stone around affording shelter and cover in case of attack.

  “There’s no doubt about their being friends now, Bart,” said the Doctor; “we must trust them for the future, but I pray Heaven that we may not be about to engage in shedding blood.”

  “We won’t hurt nobody, master,” said Joses, carefully examining his rifle, “so long as they leave us alone; but if they don’t, I’m afraid I shall make holes through some of them that you wouldn’t be able to cure.”

  Just then the Indian held up his hand to command silence, and directly after he pointed here and there to places that would command good views of approaching foes, while he angrily pointed to Maude, signing that she should crouch down closely behind some sheltering rocks.

  The Doctor yielded to his wishes, and then, in perfect silence, they waited for the coming of the Indian band, which if the trail were noted, they knew could not be long delayed.

  If Bart had felt any doubt before of these Indians with them being friendly, it was swept away now by the thorough earnestness with which they joined in the defence of their little stronghold. On either side of him were the stern-looking warriors, rifle in hand, watchful of eye and quick of ear, each listening attentively for danger while waiting for warnings from the scouts who had been sent out.

  As Bart thought over their position and its dangers, he grew troubled at heart about Maude, the sister and companion as she had always seemed to him, and somehow, much as he looked up to Dr Lascelles, who seemed to him the very height of knowledge, strength, and skill, it filled his mind with forebodings of the future as he wondered how they were to continue their expedition to the end without happening upon some terrible calamity.

  “Maude ought to have been left with friends, or sent to the city. It seems to me like madness to have brought her here.”

  Just then Dr Lascelles crept up cautiously behind him, making him start and turn scarlet as a hand was laid upon his shoulder; for it seemed to him as if the Doctor had been able to read his thoughts.

  “Why, Bart,” he said, smiling, “you look as red as fire; you ought to look as pale as milk. Do you want to begin the fight?”

  “No,” said Bart, sturdily; “I hope we shan’t have to fight at all, for it seems very horrid to have to shoot at a man.”

  “Ever so much more horrid for a man to shoot at you,” said Joses in a hoarse whisper as he crawled up behind them. “I’d sooner shoot twelve, than twelve should shoot me.”

  “Why have you left your post?” said the Doctor, looking at him sternly.

  “Came to say, master, that I think young miss aren’t safe. She will keep showing herself, and watching to see if you are all right, and that’ll make the Indians, if they come, all aim at her.”

  “You are right, Joses,” said the Doctor, hastily; and he went softly back to the waggon, while Joses went on in a grumbling whisper:

  “I don’t know what he wanted to bring her for. Course we all like her, Master Bart, but it scares me when I think of what it might lead to if we get hard pressed some of these days.”

  “Don’t croak, Joses,” whispered Bart; and then they were both silent and remained watching, for the chief held up his hand, pointing towards the rocks beyond, which they knew that their enemies were passing, and whose tops they scanned lest at any moment some of the painted warriors might appear searching the valley with their keen dark eyes.

  The hours passed, and the rocks around them grew painfully heated by the ardent rays that beat down upon them. Not a breath of air reached the corner where such anxious guard was kept; and to add to the discomfort of the watchers, a terrible thirst attacked them.

  Bart’s lips seemed cracking and his throat parched and burning, but this was all borne in fortitude; and as he saw the Indians on either side of him, bearing the inconveniences without a murmur, he forebore to complain.

  Towards mid-day, when the heat was tremendous, and Bart was wondering why the chief or Dr Lascelles did not make some movement to see whether the strange Indians had gone, and at the same time was ready to declare to himself that the men sent out as scouts must have gone to sleep, he felt a couple of hands placed upon his shoulders from behind, pressing him down, and then a long brown sinewy arm was thrust forward, with the hand pointing to the edge of the ridge a quarter of a mile away.

  Dr Lascelles had not returned, and Joses had some time before crept back to his own post, so that Bart was alone amongst their Indian friends.

  He knew at once whose was the pointing arm, and following the indicated direction, he saw plainly enough first the head and shoulders of an Indian come into sight, then there was apparently a scramble and a leap, and he could see that the man was mounted. And then followed another and another, till there was a group of half a dozen mounted men, who had ridden up some ravine to the top from the plain beyond, and who were now searching and scanning the valley where the Doctor’s encampment lay.

  Now was the crucial time. The neigh of a horse, the sight of an uncautiously exposed head or hand, would have been sufficient to betray their whereabouts, and sooner or later the attack would have come.

  But now it was that the clever strategy of the chief was seen, for he had chosen their retreat not merely for its strength, but for its concealment.

  Bart glanced back towards the waggon, and wondered how it was that this prominent object had not been seen. Fortunately, however, its tilt was of the colour of the surrounding rocks, and it was pretty well hidden behind some projecting masses.

  For quite a quarter of an hour this group of mounted Indians remained full in view, and all the time Bart’s sensations were that he must be seen as plainly as he could see his foes; but at last he saw them slowly disappear one by one over the other side of the ridge; and as soon as the last had gone the chief uttered a deep “Ugh!”

  There was danger though yet, and he would not let a man stir till quite half an hour later, when his two scouts came in quickly, and said a few words in a low guttural tone.

  “I should be for learning the language of these men if we were to stay with them, Bart,” said the Doctor; “but they may leave us at any time, and the next party we meet may talk a different dialect.”

  The chief’s acts were sufficient now to satisfy them that the present danger had passed, and soon after he and his men mounted and rode off without a word.

  * * *

  Chapter Eight.

  Rough Customers.

  There was nothing to tempt a stay where they were, so taking advantage of their being once more alone, a fresh start was made along the most open course that presented itself, and some miles were placed between them and the last camp before a halt was made for the night.

  “We shan’t do no good, Master Bart,” said Joses, as they two kept watch for the first part of the night. “The master thinks we shall, but I don’t, and Juan don’t, and Sam and Harry don’t.”

  “But why not?”

  “Why not, Master Bart? How can you ’spect it, when you’ve got a young woman and a waggon and a tent along with you. Them’s all three things as stop you from getting over the ground. I don’t call this an exploring party; I call it just a-going out a-pleasuring when it’s all pain.”

  “You always would grumble, Joses; no matter where we were, or what we were doing, you would have your grumble. I suppose it does you good.”

  “Why, of course it does,” said Joses, with a low chuckling laugh. “If I wasn’t to grumble, that would all be in my mind making me sour, so I gets rid of it as soon as I can.”

  That night passed without adventure, and, starting at daybreak the next morning, they found a fine open stretch of plain before them, beyond which, blue and purple in the distanc
e, rose the mountains, and these were looked upon as their temporary destination, for Dr Lascelles was of opinion that here he might discover something to reward his toils.

  The day was so hot and the journey so arduous, that upon getting to the farther side of the plain, with the ground growing terribly broken and rugged as they approached the mountain slopes, a suitable spot was selected, and the country being apparently quite free from danger, the tent was set up, and the quarters made snug for two or three days’ rest, so that the Doctor might make a good search about the mountain chasms and ravines, and see if there were any prospect of success.

  The place reached was very rugged, but it had an indescribable charm from the varied tints of the rocks and the clumps of bushes, with here and there a low scrubby tree, some of which proved to be laden with wild plums.

  “Why, those are wild grapes too, are they not?” said Bart, pointing to some clustering vines which hung over the rocks laden with purpling berries.

  “That they be,” said Joses; “and as sour as sour, I’ll bet. But I say, Master Bart, hear that?”

  “What! that piping noise?” replied Bart. “I was wondering what it could be.”

  “I’ll tell you, lad,” said Joses, chuckling. “That’s young wild turkeys calling to one another, and if we don’t have a few to roast it shan’t be our fault.”

  The Doctor was told of the find, and after all had been made snug, it was resolved to take guns and rifles, and search for something likely to prove an agreeable change.

  “For we may as well enjoy ourselves, Bart, and supply Madam Maude here with a few good things for our pic-nic pot.”

  The heat of the evening and the exertion of the long day’s journey made the party rather reluctant to stir after their meal, but at last guns were taken, and in the hope of securing a few of the wild turkeys, a start was made; but after a stroll in different directions, Joses began to shake his head, and to say that it would be no use till daybreak, for the turkeys had gone to roost.