Lost in the Cañon

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER XXVIII.--A BOLD MOVE.

  We have already seen that Sam was cool and brave, and such charactersbut rarely act from impulse. Yet there are times when impulse is moreeffective than all the calm reasoning in the world, and this was one ofthem.

  On the way to the spring with Blanco, Sam felt very nervous. He did nothave much faith in the chief's profession of friendship for the whites,and from what he remembered of Hank Tims' stories about the Apaches, hebelieved them to be a very treacherous and bloodthirsty people.

  But the sight of Ulna, prostrate and bound, scattered all Sam's fearsand indecision to the winds.

  "This is my friend!" he shouted as he sprung to Ulna's side and drew hisown hunting-knife.

  "Hold! He is a Ute and my foe!" roared the chief.

  But neither his words nor his movements could stay Sam Willett, who wasnow blind to everything but the condition of his brave friend.

  Two rapid flashes of the knife, and the cords that bound Ulna's handsand feet were severed.

  Ike and Wah Shin trembled at the audacity of their young leader.

  Even Blanco and his braves were speechless and helpless for the moment,and looked from one to the other, as if wondering what thisextraordinary young white man would do next.

  They had not long to wonder, for Ulna, in the very second that he wasfreed, sprang to his feet, leaped at the nearest Indian, who chanced tohold the repeating-rifle that had been taken from himself the nightbefore, and tearing it from his grasp, he bounded up the ravine before ahand could be raised to stay him.

  "Shoot! shoot!" cried the chief when he could regain his breath.

  "Don't fire!" shouted Sam as, with his own gun raised, he sprangdirectly in front of the Apaches.

  They did not fire, perhaps because it would have been useless, forbefore they had fully realized the order of the chief and why it wascalled out, the fleet-footed Ulna had vanished up the rift.

  Blanco shouted for the braves to pursue, and on the instant four of theyoungest and most active leaped forward, like blood-hounds freed fromthe leash.

  With yells that frightened the dog and made him crouch behind Ike, theApaches started up the ravine.

  Sam was about to follow them, but the chief caught him by the shoulderand said sternly:

  "You do heap harm. Stay!"

  Meanwhile, Ulna had gained the upland, with his face turned toward thesun, now flashing over the crests of the Sierra Madre Mountains.

  The cruel cords had cut into his wrists and ankles, and the strainedposition in which he had been held so many hours had stiffened hislimbs; but, absorbed in the battle for his own life, he forgot or didnot feel his pain.

  On gaining the upland, he halted for an instant to pull his cap lowerand to tighten his belt; then, as he heard the blood-curdling yellsbehind him, he started off again, running this time straight for themountains to the east.

  He looked back for an instant, to see the four Apaches rising into viewfrom the rift.

  He had about two hundred yards the lead, and he very wisely made up hismind not to increase it.

  As a tribe, the Utes have ever prided themselves on the speed andendurance of their runners.

  They begin to practice as children, and they are taught to stop at noobstacle and not to vary their speed, whether facing or descending ahill.

  They keep the lips firmly closed, breathing altogether through thenostrils, and the arms, or at least the elbows, are kept firmly pressedto the sides, the hands being advanced at right angles to the body andthe fingers shut, like a boxer's fist.

  An observer, seeing Ulna's light, springy bound and the absence of alleffort, would have been charmed with the grace of the youth's movements,but would have felt that he was not getting over the ground very fast,while his pursuers appeared to be flying; and they were certainlystraining every nerve.

  But Ulna's feet were on his native heath, and he knew that his safetydepended on reserving his strength, rather than exhausting himself by amighty effort at the start.

  The four runners behind him discharged their rifles, but the bulletswhistled harmlessly by his ears.

  They yelled, and he heard them with a feeling of delight, for he wellknew that men cannot run fast and yell very loud at the same time.

  Still the Apaches seemed to gain on him, till his lead was reduced tonot more than fifty yards, and he could hear their loud explosivebreathings behind him.

  Gradually three of the young braves began to lessen their speed and dropto the rear, while one appeared to gain at every bound on the fugitive.

  After running for more than hour, Ulna threw a quick glance over hisshoulder and took in this state of affairs.

  His heart bounded with delight at the prospect, but he neither increasednor lessened his speed. His movements seemed to be as even and tirelessas the flight of the mountain eagles circling above his head.

  Another half hour and he looked back again. Only one man was in sight,and he was not more than a hundred feet away.

  Quick as a flash Ulna came to a halt, wheeled and fired. The Apachethrew up his arms and fell senseless at the feet of the young Ute.

  Here Ulna's training in the missionary school at Taos came into play.

  His natural impulse would have led him to make sure work, and tear theblack scalp from the head of his foe, but his heart was touched withpity rather than hate, and now that his pursuer was harmless he mighthelp him, if he was not fatally wounded.

  He examined the Apache's wound, and found that the bullet had struck hishead without breaking his skull.

  "He will come to himself after a while," said Ulna, as he drew his foeto the shadow of a rock and placed his back against it.

  But while prompted to this act of humanity, Ulna did not permit hisheart to interfere with his head. According to all the rules ofcivilized warfare, the arms of an enemy belong to his conqueror, so hetook the Apache's pistol and ammunition-belt, which also contained hislong, keen scalping-knife.

  These he fastened on his own person, and had scarcely finished when thewounded brave opened his eyes and looked about him in a dazed way. Assoon as he saw Ulna he closed his eyes again and began to chant in a lowsolemn voice the death-song of his tribe.

  He was in the power of his foe, and as he could not give mercy himself,for he did not know of such a thing, he expected that the Ute would puthim to death, and his song told that he was ready to meet it withoutfear.

  "Listen to me," said Ulna, laying his hand on the Apache's shoulder andspeaking in a firm but kindly tone. "I am a Ute, but the whites havetaught me to hate no man because of his tribe. Your life is your own;take it and make your way back to your friends who have lagged in therace, and tell them that the nephew of Uray does not hate nor kill thehelpless."

  "But I am an Apache. I have forfeited my life. I would take yours if Icould. Why stay your hand? This is not the warfare that our fatherspractised," said the astonished Apache.

  "No, nor shall I ever practice such a warfare. Yet for the life I spareI would ask a favor."

  "What is it?"

  "Return to Blanco and tell him that the people now in his hands mean noharm. Tell him that if he guides them to Hurley's Gulch he will be wellpaid. Tell him that if he harms them, the whites will make war, nor staytheir hands while there is an Apache left in the Mogollon Mountains."

  With the last word Ulna waved his hand to the brave and sped away againto the eastward with the same tireless spring.

  Ulna was miles away when the three Apaches, who had started out with thewounded man, made their appearance.

  "Where is the Ute?" they asked.

  "Gone," was the reply.

  "And your arms?"

  "They are gone, too."

  "Who took them?"

  "The Ute."

  "Why then did he not take your life and your scalp?" they asked in greatsurprise.

  "He stunned me with a shot which I was not expecting; but he stunned memore when he refused the death I was expecting," said the brave.