Ellis Edward Sylvester
A Waif of the Mountains

“Poor fellow,” she said sympathetically; “you cannot go any further; what shall be done, Fred?”

“Only one thing seems possible,–take you on my horse.”

“And what will become of Cap?”

“We must leave him behind.”

“What will happen to him?”

“Some one will pick him up, or, after his leg recovers, he may find his way back to the settlement.”

The impulsive girl flung her arms about the animal’s neck and touched her lips to the silken nose.

“They shall not part us, Cap,” she exclaimed with tears in her eyes.

The lieutenant watched this by-play, full of sympathy for the girl, but he was in a quandary. Prudence seemed to demand that everything should be sacrificed to speed by abandoning the pony. In all probability, the latter would serve as a dinner for some of the bears, wolves or other denizens of the mountains, who would quickly harry him to death. To wait where they were until the animal was able to travel rendered certain a speedy meeting with their pursuers. The woodcraft of Vose Adams would enable him to discover with slight delay the point where the fugitives had left the cañon, and he would guide his companions with the skill of one of the mountain Indians themselves.

On the other hand, the plan he had in view imposed prodigious work upon his own animal. Between the halting place and Sacramento were many miles of easy traveling, over which he could walk, but for long distances the beast would be compelled to carry double. In the event of close pursuit, this must prove a fatal handicap.

In his perplexity, the lieutenant again examined the hurt of the pony.

“It would be cruel to make him take a single step, but he may soon recover. I am afraid to leave him behind and to continue our flight with only my horse. You know how dangerous it is to linger, Nellie, when it is certain they are not far off–”

She caught his arm and whispered:

“Look at Timon! he has discovered something!”

The dog was standing a few paces in front of them, with his nose pointed toward the cañon. He emitted several growls and pricked up his ears in a way that left no doubt that he was angered. The lieutenant had hardly time to place himself in an attitude of defence with his Winchester, when a soft footfall was heard, and the next moment Vose Adams emerged from behind the pile of rocks and approached them.

It was proof of the guide’s woodcraft that he was able to come thus close before being detected by Timon, who advanced threateningly toward him. A word, however, from the lieutenant stayed the dog.

“Well, Vose,” said the young man, “this is unexpected.”

“So I jedge and I’ve a ’spicion that you ain’t tickled half to death to see me.”

“We were always friends, but I can’t say that either Nellie or I am glad to meet you under the circumstances; for in truth, we have been doing all we could to prevent such a meeting.”

“Things has that look,” added Vose, standing on guard as may be said, for he was not free from misgiving concerning the young lieutenant whom he had managed to run down. His positive orders forbade him to assume the aggressive, but no one could forbid him to defend himself, and he did not mean that this handsome officer should catch him unprepared.

“Whom have you with you?” asked Russell.

“The captain, Wade Ruggles and the parson.”

“What we suspected; I presume no one of the three feels specially affectionate toward me.”

“It is all the captain can do to prevent the other two from quarrelin’ as to which shall have the first chance to shoot you.”

“Why does Captain Dawson prevent them?”

“’Cause he means to have the first chance himself.”

“How about you?” grimly asked Lieutenant Russell.

“I’m left.”

“How’s that?”

“A low down trick was played onto me; as near as I can find out, the captain comes first, Wade and the parson next and me fourth. You can see for yourself that there won’t be any chance at all left for me after them three is through.”

“It doesn’t look so,–that’s a fact. But where are the three?”

“Along the main trail, down in the kenyon.”

“Why did they not come with you?”

“I advised ’em to wait till I found out how the land laid and they won’t leave the spot till I get back.”

Lieutenant Russell gave no expression to the thought that flashed upon him. Why not keep Vose Adams a prisoner? The loss of his services to the party would be irreparable, for, as it was, the present hiding place of the fugitives never would have become known to them without the help of the guide. It was a daring scheme, but there were so many objections to carrying it out, that the officer dismissed it. In truth he thought of a much better plan.

“You have told me enough, Vose, to prove that the four men–for I may as well include yourself–feel bitterer toward me than I suspected: do you think this enmity of theirs will last?”

“Not for long.”

“How long?”

“They’ll let up as soon as you’re shot.”

Lieutenant Russell could not restrain a smile at this way of putting it, while Nellie was so horrified that she gasped and stared and listened in silence.

“There can be little doubt that you are right, but I meant to ask whether you do not think the captain will moderate his anger when he is given time to think it over.”

“He has had all night to do that, and this mornin’ he was hotter if anything, than at any time since he larned what you had done.”

“When did he learn it?”

Thereupon, Vose told the facts which have already been made known to the reader, the most interesting feature of which was that Adams was not an original member of the pursuing party. But, although the guide was so pronounced in his opinion of the continuance of the enmity of Captain Dawson, the lieutenant believed otherwise. He was confident that if he and Nellie could reach Sacramento before meeting the irate father, the latter would be open to reason, and all would turn out well.

Vose turned to the young woman.

“Nellie, do you want a little advice from me?”

“I am glad to have it at any time.”

“Howsumever, what I say is as much for the leftenant as for you, which the same is that both of you should give up this bus’ness.”

“But,” said Nellie, “you have just told us that father is so angry with Lieutenant Russell that he will shoot him the moment they meet.”

“We can fix that easy ’nough; let the leftenant stay here while you go with me; I think we can explain matters to the captain and the others so they won’t bother the leftenant.”

“And what am I to do?” asked Russell.

“Push on to Sacramento as fast as you can, for though I think I can fix it, I wouldn’t advise you to take too many chances.”

“In other words, after Nellie and I have fled from the settlement and got this far on the road to safety, you urge me to give her up forever.”

“Wal, that’s lookin’ a little further ahead than I meant to, but I ’spose it amounts to that.”

“You mean well, Vose, but do you imagine that Nellie and I did not count the cost before turning our backs on New Constantinople? Don’t you suppose we knew we should be pursued and were prepared for the consequences?”

“I can’t say as to that, but it strikes me that the plan I laid before you is the only one there is.”

“Why?”

“You cannot get away from the captain and the men with him.”

“Well, there is no call for me to repeat my opinion, but I will say that the decision shall rest with Nellie herself. If she wishes to go with you I will interpose not a word of objection.”

He looked toward her as an invitation for her to speak. There was a world of affection and faith in the lustrous eyes, as she walked resolutely forward and placed herself by his side.

“Only death shall separate us!”

CHAPTER XXIV
AN UNEXPECTED ALLY

The lovelight shone in the eyes of Lieutenant Russell, as he looked down at the slight figure beside him. He tenderly passed his arm around the girl and touched his lips to her forehead.

“It was not that I doubted you, Nellie,” he said, “but that Vose might know the full truth.”

Then turning to the guide, he asked:

“Do you still advise her to leave me?”

Vose Adams was unaccustomed to scenes like this. He moved about uneasily, coughed, cleared his throat, and for a few minutes was at a loss for words.

“I don’t know what to advise,” he finally said; “but don’t you think, if she could go to the captain and let him see how she feels, he will give in? How would it do for both of you to walk back with your arms round each other’s neck and sayin’ sweet words–wouldn’t that fetch him? Hanged, if I know what to tell you!” he exclaimed desperately, observing the smiles on their faces.

“I am afraid your plan wouldn’t work,” said the lieutenant, “but you have proved yourself the very friend we need.”

These words were a hint of the scheme that had come into the brain of the young officer. Had he made a prisoner of Vose Adams, as he thought for a minute of doing, the guide would really be more dangerous, since there was no way of guarding against his treachery, but if he could be turned into a friend, it would be almost equivalent to saving the fugitives. It was that for which the young man planned, but he felt that the real work must be done by Nellie. He could not win the good will of Vose, but she could, for who was able to resist her appeals?

It was a proof of the brightness of the girl that she caught the purpose of her escort the moment his last words were uttered, and she performed her part with a cleverness that could not have been surpassed.

Tears were in the eyes of the emotional Nellie, but she stepped across the brief intervening space and laid her hand on the arm of Adams.

“How glad I am, Vose, that you will help us, for you have told enough to show that it will not do for us to meet father for some time to come; we are now in your hands.”

“Blamed if I won’t do anything I can! But what can I do? ’Spose I sneak back, shoot the captain and then plug Ruggles and the parson? Will that suit you?”

“Gracious; I should rather you would kill me than harm a hair of father’s head.”

“Wal, ’spose I shoot you and the leftenant and the captain and the rest? No; that won’t do; how the mischief shall I fix things?”

The cooler headed Russell saw that the problem had been solved; Nellie Dawson had won over Vose Adams, as may be said, by the turn of her finger. He was eager to do all he could to help them, but in the flurry of the moment could not reason with his usual acumen.

“We don’t want any shooting, Vose; I am sure that if we can reach Sacramento without meeting the captain, his anger will pass away. In Sacramento, I shall be able to arrange a meeting between him and his daughter, and his love for her will break down the barriers and do the rest.”

“I’m in too deep water when you get to figgerin’ that way, but there seems to be reason in what you say, but what about Ruggles and the parson?”

“We’ll leave them out; they are in this as the friends of Captain Dawson, and will not dare go contrary to his wishes, but if they do, it can make no difference to my plan.”

“They’re just as savage as the captain,” said Vose significantly; “and it won’t do to forget ’em; but what did you expect to do, when you left the kenyon? If you come back, you would have been sartin to meet us, and what then?”

“My intention was not to return, but to keep away from the main trail and hunt a shorter road through the mountains to Sacramento.”

Vose Adams gave a low whistle of astonishment.

“That’s the worst I ever heard!”

“And why?”

“You’re not follerin’ any trail at all; you would be sartin to get lost and would never find your way through the mountains; anyhow it would take you three or four years, which I ca’clate is longer than you want to wait.”

“How can you be so positive?”

“It’s true I never went to Sacramento and back, except by follerin’ for most of the way the trail that I know so well, but other folks as smart as you have been lost in the mountains and you couldn’t help it.”

“You advise against it then?”

“I’m so sure of your goin’ wrong that I won’t try to help you unless you give up the idee.”

“Then I hereby give it up.”

Since Vose Adams had committed himself to Russell and Nellie’s interests, there was no more talking at cross purposes. The object of the three was the same, and they sat down on the rocks for consultation. There was abundance of time in which to do this, since those whom they feared would not leave the cañon until the return of their guide, and he did not mean to go back until the day was so far spent that further delay was unavoidable.

“They will be mad when they see me,” he said with a grin, “but it won’t do them any good and I’ll fix up a yarn about gettin’ on and then off your trail agin, that they’ll have to be satisfied with.”

“That will serve for to-night, but you will all be astir at an early hour to-morrow morning.”

“They will still have to depend on me to guide ’em, and I rather think I can steer ’em off the track, so as to give you plenty of time to get out of the way.”

“How?”

“As soon as they leave the kenyon, that is as soon as the way is clear, you must ride back to it and put on all steam for Sacramento, for I understand, leftenant, that you’ve give up your idee of finding a new route through the mountains.”

“I have.”

“You’ve got two good animals and you’ll gain a full day’s start.”

“You forget about poor Cap,” said Nellie.

“So I did! if he can’t go with you, you’ll have to leave him behind and ride double, but it will be rather tough on your horse, leftenant.”

“Nellie doesn’t weigh enough to make any difference, and I expect to walk most of the distance.”

An unexpected piece of good fortune raised the spirits of the three. To the amazement of all, Cap, the pony, was seen hunting for grass and bearing upon the lame foot with little inconvenience. That which was thought to be a bad sprain was only a wrench, from which he promised speedily to recover.

“He’ll be as well as ever by to-morrow mornin’,” said Vose Adams; “you’ll need to humor him at first, but not for long.”

As has been intimated, the guide remained with them through most of the afternoon, for, if he had gone back to his friends earlier than he did, he would not have dared to offer any excuse for not leading them in the pursuit, and he meant to avert all possibility of that. The reader understands by this time why the guide formulated such an astounding fiction when attempting to explain the cause of his delay. Had his listeners been in cooler mood, they might have tangled him up with a few questions, but their exasperation and disgust prevented.

Before parting with the fugitives, Vose assured them that he was confident their plans could not fail.

“All they’ve got to do,” he reflected, “is to do nothing afore to-morrow and then when the road is open, strike out over the main trail as hard as they can travel. I hope none of them Injins that we had the row with will be pokin’ ’round to-night, for if there’s to be any trouble, it’ll come from them.”

It will be recalled that the story of Adams was received with such coolness that he indignantly resigned and told the captain to run matters himself.

“And he’ll make purty work of it,” chortled Vose “he won’t be able to come within miles of where they are hidin’.”

When the moody silence had lasted for some time, the guide was moved to remark in a more conciliatory spirit:

“There’s one thing that mustn’t be forgot: Colonel Briggs and his folks won’t make any trouble, but we’re not done with them Injins.”

“Isn’t there likelihood that Colonel Briggs will divert them?” asked the parson.

“No; for the redskins can’t be fooled; they’ll know it wasn’t any of the colonel’s folks that give their chief his walkin’ papers, but us, and they’re the sort of people that don’t forget a thing of that kind.”

“I was thinking of hunting up enough wood to start a fire,” said the captain; “but we don’t need it, and I suppose it will be safer without it.”

“It seems to me,” observed Ruggles, “that what we’ve got the most to fear is that the Injins will run off with our animals: we would be left in a bad fix.”

“We must look out for that; I’ll stand guard the first part of the night.”

Each was ready to take his turn, and it was arranged that Captain Dawson should act as sentinel until midnight, when he would awake Vose Adams, who would assume the duty till morning. Soon afterward, the three wrapped themselves in their blankets and stretched out on the ground, near the boulders, where they speedily sank into deep slumber.

It seemed to Adams that he had slept less than an hour, when the captain touched him. Rising immediately to a sitting position, he asked:

“Is it midnight?”

“It’s a half hour past.”

“Why didn’t you awake me afore? Have you seen anything wrong?”

“I am not sure; my doubt made me hold on a little longer, but I learned nothing of account.”

“What was it anyway?”

“It is only that the animals appear to be uneasy, but it may mean nothing, or it may mean a good deal.”

“It’s more’n likely it means something. Where are they?”

“Lying down off there to the right, almost near enough to be seen.”

“They can’t be too close; wal, you can sleep and I’ll take my turn.”

Thus warned by Captain Dawson, Vose Adams assumed the duties of sentinel with his senses on the alert. He had become so accustomed to the delicate duty, when aware that the slightest slip on his part meant death, that he was better fitted for the task than any member of the party, though the experience of Ruggles and the captain in the army had given them the ability to awake at any moment fixed upon before sinking into slumber, and they were sensitive to the least disturbance while enjoying refreshing rest.

Adams believed what he had remarked more than once that the little company of mountain Indians would do their utmost to revenge themselves upon the men who had taken off their chief. He suspected that the five were prowling in the neighborhood, looking for some such opportunity, and that they would strike a blow before the rising of the morrow’s sun.

Nothing was to be hoped for in the way of a diversion, created by the intrusion of Colonel Briggs and his vagrant miners. Not that the Indians were not eager to strike at any members of the hated race, but the all-controlling motive was lacking in the case of the larger party.

Although the moon was in the sky, only a small part of its light penetrated the cañon. Peering into the darkness, Vose dimly made out the forms of the four animals, who, having ceased their cropping of the grass, had lain down for the remainder of the night. They were so near that they could not be stampeded or stolen without the effort being known to the sentinel.

It would have been the height of rashness to start a camp fire, for all the figures within its circle of illumination must have formed the best of targets for their stealthy foes. As it was, an enemy would have to steal from the gloom and approach near enough to touch them, before striking a blow or firing a shot.

Vose Adams, with his Winchester in his right hand and held close to his side, took his seat on the ground, resting his back against the nearest boulder. As a rule, a sentinel can keep awake for an extended time only by motion and exercise, such as walking to and fro, but the trained hunter often takes the risk and there is little danger of his succumbing, especially after he has just finished a nap, as was the case with the guide.

Thus seated, with the boulder rising several feet above his head, Adams’s only reliance was upon his keenness of hearing and sight.

He had not waited long when he saw proof of what the captain had told him: the animals were restless, or rather one of them was. The quadruped thus affected was Hercules, his own mule, who, although lying down, twice rose to his feet, shifted his position and lay down again. Then he sniffed as if the air contained an odor that was displeasing to him.

“I wouldn’t think much of it, if it was one of the horses,” reflected his master, “but Hercules has brains; he knows more’n all the others together, and yet it may be it ain’t that after all.”

One of the singular facts regarding cattle and other quadrupeds is that they are sometimes troubled with disquieting dreams, the same as ourselves. This trifling cause has resulted many a time in the stampeding of a drove numbering tens of thousands.

“I’ve knowed Hercules to kick and snort in his sleep, and one time he come mighty near breakin’ a leg of mine; howsumever, I don’t think that’s the trouble with him to-night. I ’spect it’s Injins this time!”

When Captain Dawson lay down to sleep and Vose Adams assumed his place as sentinel, the moon was near the zenith, but the contour of the cañon shut out its beams. While Vose was striving to pierce the gloom, over and about the four animals, he noted a flickering tremor against the vast wall which formed the other side of the cañon. A faint, fleecy veil of moonlight having been lifted over the mountain crests, was now flung downward and caught against and suspended upon the projecting rocks and crags. It was but a frosty shimmer, but the veil dangled lower and lower, pendant here and there until the fringe rested on the bottom of the gorge.

The sleeping miners and horses were wrapped in deep shadow, but the tremulous, almost invisible veil still fluttered on the further side of the cañon. By and by, the shifting moon would whisk it up again and all would be gloom as before.

The sentinel lay flat on his face and peered over the prone animals toward the faint light across the cañon, and, looking thus, he saw the outlines of a man moving among the horses and mule. A shadow could not have been more noiseless. Not the faintest rustle betrayed his footsteps.

“Just what I expected,” thought Vose; “I’ll wager Hercules against a dozen of the best horses in Sacramento that that shadder is one of them five Injins we seen stealin’ along the ledge this mornin’. All the same, I can’t imagine what the mischief he is driving at.”

The guide’s first impulse was to bring his rifle to his shoulder and let fly. The intruder was so near that it was impossible to miss him, but two causes operated to prevent this summary course: Vose wished first to learn the business of the intruder, and there was a single possibility in a hundred that he was neither an Indian nor an enemy.

The latter doubt could be solved by challenging the prowler with a threat to fire, if instant satisfaction was refused, while the firing could be made so promptly that the stranger would have no chance of whisking out of reach. Vose decided to wait until he got some idea of the other’s business.

He could still dimly discern the form, but it was so obscure that had it not been moving about, he would not have been able to distinguish it or make sure it was within his field of vision.

While studying the phantom, the lower part of the veil of moonlight on the other side of the cañon was twitched up for a hundred feet. Lingering thus a minute, it was twitched still higher; then a third flirt snatched it out of the gorge. The shifting of the moon had left the cañon shrouded in darkness as before.

Nothing could have attested more strikingly the marvelous stealth of the intruder than the fact that not one of the horses was awakened by him. The approach of the great Geronimo and several of his Apaches was betrayed under somewhat similar circumstances by the neighing of a horse that they awakened, apparently when making no noise at all.

This prowler was a shadow in a world of shadows. If Hercules detected his presence, the man succeeded in soothing the fear of the hybrid.

“Halt or I’ll fire!”

Vose Adams’s voice was low, but in the tomb-like stillness a thunderclap could not have been more distinct. The hail, however, produced no response. The angered Vose drew his Winchester to a level, with his finger on the trigger, but when he ran his eye along the barrel, he failed to perceive any target. He lowered the muzzle a few inches and peered over the top. Nothing was discernible.

“You’re there somewhere and I’ll find you!”

Instead of rising erect, the sentinel advanced in a crouching posture, so that his head was no higher than if he were on his hands and knees.

This clever strategy was thrown away. Within five seconds, he was at the side of Hercules, prepared and expecting to grapple with his enemy, who, to his exasperation, continued invisible. Vose did not require to have the matter explained to him, for he understood it. Upon being hailed, the intruder instead of throwing up his hands or starting to run, had also assumed a stooping position. It was as if he had quietly sunk below the surface of a sea of darkness through which he was wading, and swum with noiseless celerity to a point beyond reach.

Vose was angered but took his defeat philosophically.

“You was too smart for me that time; I never had it played finer on me, but I guess it’s just as well; you’ve learned that we’re on the lookout and you can’t sneak into camp without some risk of having a hole bored inter you.”

But Vose was not yet through with his nocturnal experiences. He held his seat for some fifteen or twenty minutes without seeing or hearing anything to cause the slightest misgiving. The horses still slept, and even the uneasy Hercules appeared to have become composed and to have made up his mind to slumber until morning.

“I don’t b’leve there’ll be anything more to disturb me, onless some wild animal wants his supper–”

The thought had hardly taken shape, when a shiver of affright ran through him, though the cause was so slight that it might have brought a smile, being nothing more than a pebble rolling down the ravine, up which the fugitives had passed the day before. The stone came slowly, loosening several similar obstructions, which joined with it, the rustling increasing and continuing until all reached the bottom and lay at rest a few feet from where he sat.

Nothing could have been easier than for this to occur in the natural course of things, since hundreds of such instances were taking place at every hour of the day and night, but in the tense state of the sentinel’s nerves, he was inclined to attribute it either to the Indian that had just visited camp and slunk away, or to one of his comrades trying to steal a march upon him.

“I ’spose the next thing will be for him to climb over this boulder behind me and drop onto my head. Howsumever, if he does, he’ll find me awake.”

Vose sat thus, depending almost wholly upon his sense of hearing to apprise him of the stealthy approach of an enemy, while the long silent hours gradually passed, without bringing additional cause for alarm.