Ellis Edward Sylvester
Through Apache Land

CHAPTER XV.
IN THE SOLITUDE

Ned designed to drift down stream for a mile or so, by which time he expected to be at such a distance that there was no further possible danger of pursuit. It would then be necessary for him to get forward as fast as he could, taking care to avoid the redskins who were in front, rather than those in the rear.

He was a little alarmed to find, after going scarcely half that distance, that the stream was broadening very rapidly. The current as a consequence, became slower, and when he descried seemingly a large forest looming up before him, he concluded that the time had about come for him to disembark, and use his heels. But, prompted somewhat by curiosity, he remained a while longer, until, before he was aware, he discovered that the stream had debouched into a lake, nearly circular in shape, and fully a couple of hundred yards in diameter. The impetus of the current kept the tree moving slowly and still more slowly, until it had reached a point near the middle, when it gradually settled down to a complete standstill.

"That's odd!" exclaimed the lad, looking about him, and seeing the broad sweep of water on every hand. "If I knew this I think I should have got off."

It only remained for him to work his way to land, and this he began doing by using his hands as paddles. It was slow progress; and he was of the opinion that he had made a rather foolish blunder in permitting himself to be "carried out to sea" in this fashion. He was disturbed still further by the appearance of the sky. Dark, threatening clouds were gathering and sweeping across it, frequently shutting out the light of the moon and causing the most grotesque shadows to whisk over the surface of the lake.

The indications were that a violent storm was close at hand, and he used both hands with all the vigor at his command, and saw himself gradually nearing land – the rate being so moderate that it could not keep pace with his impatience. He was tempted more than once to leap into the water and swim or wade ashore, but he restrained himself. On one of these occasions, just as a heavy cloud approached the moon, and while his raft was a dozen yards or so from shore, he was alarmed at sight of something approaching him through the water. What it was he could not conjecture, as it was low down, and very indistinct on account of the gathering gloom.

As the cloud touched the moon and obscured the light, this suspicious object disappeared, and he awaited with no little alarm the outcome of the mystery. He was sitting motionless, looking and listening, when the end of the tree was suddenly elevated a full foot, while the other correspondingly descended.

With a gasp of terror, Ned clutched the limb near him and held on, not knowing whither he was about to be flung. A muttering growl at the same instant explained what it all meant, and he hastily retreated still further upon the tree, expecting every moment to feel the claws of the wild animal fastened upon him.

"It seems to me that these beasts are after me more than the Indians," was his thought, as he drew out his revolver, and awaited the necessity of using it.

Further than placing his paws upon one end of the trunk, and giving out a threatening growl, the animal did nothing for a few minutes, while the boy, fully sensible of the value of his ammunition, was equally lacking in offensive proceedings. Thus matters stood, while the great heavy cloud floated slowly by the moon, and the head of the unwelcome stranger gradually came to view.

It was some wild beast, beyond question, but it wasn't a bear. Its eyes, shining with a phosphorescent glow, and the cavernous growling that issued from the red jaws, made it seem the most frightful kind of a monster. Hoping that it was not particularly hungry, Ned tried the scare game again, flinging up his arms and shouting, and making noises horrible enough to frighten any one to whom they remained unexplained. In this case it succeeded admirably. The creature, whatever it was, must have concluded that it was something besides a boy with which it had taken passage, and, after indulging in one prolonged stare, dropped back into the water and paddled straight for shore.

"I don't think Lone Wolf can follow me all along this route," concluded the boy, as he resumed his paddling toward shore, and reached it in the course of the next ten minutes. He had been cramped up in one position so long that he felt the need of exercise, and started off at a rapid pace, with no more idea of the precise direction he was following than if he were blind.

The clouds sweeping across the sky grew heavier and darker, and the wind, strong and chilling, soughed through the trees of the forest with a dismal, wailing sound that would have frightened one of more years than young Chadmund. Even he would have shrunk from the task of going through the wood had the circumstances been different, but he was so actuated by the one all-controlling desire of escape that he forgot the real danger which encompassed him. Besides the risk of encountering the Apaches, there was the ever-present peril from wild beasts and venomous serpents. None of the latter as yet had disturbed him, but he was likely to step upon some coiling reptile, unseen in the dark, whose sting was certain death.

It soon became apparent that a storm of a most violent character was about to burst forth. The wind grew stronger and colder, lightning flashed athwart the darkening sky, and the thunder boomed with an increasing power peculiar to warm countries. The wanderer had been fortunate thus far in preserving himself from a ducking, and he was still desirous of doing so. There was nothing to be gained by pressing forward, and he began groping around for some kind of a shelter. This was difficult to find, as the gloom was so dense that eyesight was useless, and he could only use his hands.

"I guess I'll have to climb a tree," he thought, running his hand along the bark of one.

But at this juncture he ran against a rock, striking with such violence that he saw stars. As soon as he recovered he began an examination, and was not a little pleased to find that under one portion of it there was a hollow big enough for him to crawl in and protect himself from the tempest. He had scarcely done so when the storm burst forth.

First a few large drops pattered upon the leaves, and then it seemed as if the windows of Heaven had been opened. The rain descended in torrents, the firmament flamed with a blinding intensity – and the earth trembled with the reverberating thunder. The vivid sheets of electric fire made the darkness and gloom deeper by contrast. The trees, with their swaying branches, and the spear-like columns of rain, stood out and vanished again so rapidly that the vision of the appalled lad was dazzled and bewildered. The terrific shocks coming simultaneously with the lightning, proved that the thunderbolts were falling all around him, and again and again he thanked that Providence which had dissuaded him from taking refuge in some of the trees.

Crash!

Directly in front of him, an immense giant of the forest was smitten from top to base, the limbs, leaves, and splinters hurled in every direction, as if a thousand pounds of powder had been exploded within. The air was so surcharged with electricity that Ned felt the effect. A prickling sensation down one entire side of his body was followed by a partial numbness and paralysis that alarmed him. With his other hand he hastily rubbed his limbs, and turned and twisted, fearing that he was becoming helpless.

In a few minutes he regained the strength which had temporarily departed, and then noticed that the storm was subsiding as rapidly as it had arisen. The thunder died out in sullen mutterings; the lightning flashed fitfully, often without any perceptible report following, and the deluge diminished to a few drops.

"The storm is over, thank heaven!" he exclaimed. "As I have such a good bed, I may as well stay here till morning."

But at this instant his blood almost froze at the sudden discovery of a new and deadly peril.

CHAPTER XVI.
AMONG THE MOUNTAINS

Young Chadmund heard the unmistakable warning of a rattlesnake that was somewhere near him, and on the very point of striking. Precisely where it was, it was impossible to determine with any certainty; but there was no time to consider the matter. It seemed to him in that brief second he devoted to thought that the venomous reptile lay a little to the left, and he scrambled out of his place with all the celerity at his command.

The wonderful quickness of this usually sluggish snake, when about to deal its deadly blow is well known, and, had the boy moved with twice the rapidity that he did, Ned could not have escaped that lightning-like dart of the snake, which was aimed straight at his foot, that being the part of the body which was nearest his coil. The fangs struck the side of his shoe, which happened to move at the very instant the blow was made, and, piercing the leather, held the reptile fast, – "Hoist by his own petard," as it were, – so that, when Ned scrambled out from his shelter, he felt the horrid thing dangling at his heels.

With presence of mind hardly to be expected at such a time, he arose to his feet, and holding the attached foot motionless, with the other he hastily stamped all the life from the writhing rattlesnake. This done he freed the shoe by a jerk, although it tore the fangs of the reptile from its jaws.

"I think I'd better dust out of here," said the lad, breathlessly. "I remember that Corporal Hugg told me that where you found one of those things you are pretty sure of running against another close by, and I don't care about seeing any, especially when it's so dark you can't see at all."

He stepped carefully forth in the darkness, and, moving a few feet, paused to listen. The rain had ceased falling entirely, and only the faintest mutter of the distant thunder reached his ears. The darkness was absolutely impenetrable, and the wind, as it soughed through the wet branches, made the most dreary and dismal wailing – enough to strike despair to the bravest heart.

The boy had listened but a moment when a slight rustling among the leaves at his feet filled him with a sudden conviction that a second rattlesnake was after him. He left the spot expeditiously, not halting until he was sure that he was beyond reach of the unwelcome visitant, which, it is well known, is not much given to pursuing its prey.

"Hang it!" he exclaimed, "there ain't much fun in this. I wish daylight would come, so that I could see what to do."

His situation was exceedingly uncomfortable. Everything was soaked with water, and he could not walk without shaking down the moisture from the laden branches and undergrowth. He knew of but one place wherein he could secure protection and that was beneath the rock where he had so narrowly escaped the rattlesnake, but he was not very anxious to make his way back there.

While he stood debating what to do, he noticed that the sky was rapidly clearing, the black, tumultuous clouds rolling away from the face of the moon, which soon shone out with all its wonted power. This was a vast help, for, despite the dense shadows made by the heavy branches overhead, he was able to see enough to pick his way and noticed that the forest directly in front was quite open, indicating that he was close to the termination. Thus encouraged, he pressed ahead and soon had the satisfaction of finding that he was through the woods and on the border of an open, rocky ravine, through which he could hear a stream rushing with great violence, and which he took to be the outlet of the little lake that had been overcharged by the recent severe storm. So far as he could see by the moonlight, great masses of rock, boulders and broken prairie stretched out before him, and he asked himself how he was to make his way.

He concluded not to make the attempt just then, but, hunting out a place among the rocks, he crawled into it, first making sure, by a careful reconnaissance that no rattlesnakes had crept in ahead of him. He was permitted to remain undisturbed through the night, and when he opened his eyes the sun was shining directly in upon him. The boy then hastily sprang up, his heart full of gratitude to God for the wondrous manner in which his life had been preserved, and the remarkable success which had followed his attempt at escape from the Apaches.

With the coming of the glorious sunlight, Ned naturally felt buoyant and hopeful. He was not without considerable appetite, but he had eaten so heartily, on the previous evening, that he felt that he could afford to wait until night again; and he still had that impatient, almost unreasoning desire to get forward, which made him feel like breaking into a run, and keeping it up until he was out of breath.

But, young as was the little fellow, he was old enough to feel that the time had come when he must use all the brains in his command. Up to that hour, as will be understood, he had been journeying entirely at random, his sole purpose being to get beyond reach of Lone Wolf and his band. He had accomplished this, and a radical change of tactics must be made.

If Ned Chadmund had been a half dozen years older, he would have recoiled at the prospect before him; but he was so young and full of animal spirits that he did not really comprehend the difficulty and danger. He had traveled very little more than half the distance between Santa Fe and Fort Havens, and his purpose was to press ahead until the latter was reached. To do this, it was necessary that he should make his way through the mountains in which he now found himself, and then to journey a couple of hundred miles through or over prairie, and across streams, before he could reach the frontier post, where his father was so anxiously awaiting his coming. The project seemed nothing short of madness; but its justification lay in the fact that the wanderer had the choice of attempting that or lying down and dying where he was. He could do nothing but choose the former.

Ned climbed up to an elevated position and took an observation – his purpose, after learning whether any present danger threatened, being to learn the direction it was necessary to follow in order to reach Fort Havens.

"Corporal Hugg told me that after we reached Devil's Pass, it was in a straight line West. The trail winds in and out, as it has to do, but all one had to do was to dig ahead, and he would be sure to come out right in the end – that is, if the Indians and wild animals would only let him. Well, right yonder rose the sun," he continued, very carefully continuing his observation. "That must be the east, and all I have to do is to keep that at my back until it gets over my head and wears round to the front. So off we go."

There was one favorable accompaniment of this first thoughtful effort to reach home. The valley-like depression that had caught his eye upon rising ran precisely in the direction to be desired – due east and west – so that he had the best facility in the world for getting through the mountains. Still another favorable augury was that the general direction pursued by the Apaches was the same, and the fact was, there was very little still intervening between him and the open prairie beyond. Should his progress remain uninterrupted through the day, by nightfall he would be close to the prairie, which stretched away so many miles in the direction of the frontier post.

"I don't think it's as much as two hundred miles," he said, as he started off at a rapid walk. "I can make thirty miles a day, so that I will be there at the end of a week, if nothing unexpected gets in the way. Won't father be surprised when he sees me walk up, and won't I be surprised if I manage to do it, also!"

CHAPTER XVII.
A MYSTERIOUS CAMP FIRE

For a couple of hours young Chadmund had difficulty in traveling. Despite the fact that he was in a sort of valley, with towering peaks and bluffs upon either hand, a great many boulders and obstructions obtruded themselves in his path, and he did some climbing, clambering, and jumping that would have reflected no discredit upon a mountain goat. The forenoon was about half gone, and he was felicitating himself upon the excellent progress he was making, when he was brought up all standing by finding himself upon the bank of a mountain stream, which crossed his route exactly at right angles, issuing from the mountains on the left with a rush and roar and pouring tumultuously forward with irresistible power and velocity.

"I can't wade that," said the lad, scratching his head in perplexity, "and it won't do to try and swim it. If I once got in there it would be the last of me."

There could be no doubt of that, for the stream was fully twenty feet in width, very deep, and sped forward like the volume of a river when suddenly compressed into a mountain canyon. It was walled in on either side by solid rock, the surface of the water being a couple of yards below the level where he stood.

"I wonder whether I can't go round it?" he said, after spending some time in mental debate. "It can't run all the way through the mountain, but must start somewhere not very far away."

This was not a very plausible theory; but as nothing was to be gained by standing still, he started out upon his tour of exploration. Better success followed than he expected. He had started toward the head of the stream and had clambered along less than a hundred yards, when he reached a place where it was so narrow that he was confident of his ability to leap across.

"Yes, I can do that," he said, approaching close to the edge and looking over the boiling abyss to the solid rock upon the other side. "But suppose I should miss my footing, wouldn't I catch it!"

It was a pretty good leap, but Ned was active, strong and swift, and he had made many a longer leap than the one before him. For a minute longer he stood, measuring the distance with his eye. Then going backward a few steps, he suddenly ran forward with all the speed at his command, and, concentrating all his strength, made such a leap that he cleared the chasm by a couple of feet.

"There!" he exclaimed, with some satisfaction, "if none of the streams are broader than that, I'll jump them all."

Still full of hope and in the best of spirits he pressed forward until the sun was at the meridian and the heat became so oppressive that he concluded to rest awhile. He was in a section of country where, at certain seasons, the heat is like that of the Desert of Sahara. There are portions of Arizona and Lower California where the fervor of the sun's rays at noonday smite the earth with the withering power of the sirocco.

At times, when Ned was down in the lowest portions of the valley, the heat was almost intolerable; and then, again, when he clambered to the top of some elevation, and the cool breezes from the upper regions fanned his cheeks, it was like a draught of water to the fever-parched patient.

He had lain on the ground under the protecting shadow of a rock but a short time when his eye rested upon something which convinced him that he was not the only one in the valley. Looking dreamily off toward the west, up the valley, with the mountains sloping down on the right and left, he noticed what at first seemed a thin bluish cloud, resting against the sky. Then he observed that its form was a little out of the usual order, it being column-shaped, tall, and like a shaft of almost invisible vapor, thrown against the white background beyond.

"That ain't a cloud," he suddenly exclaimed, starting to his feet and scrutinizing it more closely. "It's the smoke from a camp fire and I've got to go right by it."

There could be no doubt of the truth of what he said, and he became deeply interested.

"I wonder whether they're Indians or white men? I suppose it's most likely they are Apaches, and they may be Lone Wolf and his companions. I've got to keep a sharp lookout and keep from running into them. If they are white hunters, that I've heard are sometimes in these mountains, it will be a lucky thing for me."

Somehow or other he became impressed with the idea that the camp fire ahead of him was that of friends instead of enemies – that the assistance which he so sorely needed was thus placed within his reach. He had learned, long before, that one is apt to miscalculate the distance when placed as he was; but, making allowance for all that, he was confident that the camp fire was not more than a mile away. Yielding to a natural curiosity to learn its meaning, he shortened the hour which he had intended to devote to rest, and started ahead again.

Once or twice it seemed to him that he had dropped into some sort of trail, which he was following. Here and there were traces showing that the route had been traveled before. It seemed to be one of those natural roads or passes which are found at intervals in all great mountain chains, and without which, many of of them for vast distances would be literally impassable for man or animal.

The conviction that he was not the pioneer over that section caused the young wanderer some misgivings and suggested several discomforting questions. If Apaches had used the trail already, might not some of them be upon it? If some of them were coming from the opposite direction, how was he to avoid running into their arms? These queries were not of the most cheerful character and they served to tone down the enthusiasm which had marked his start in the morning. They also caused him to examine, more times than was really necessary, the revolver which had already done him such good service, and he went through a preliminary drill, consisting of placing it inside his waistcoat, a couple of buttons being left carelessly unfastened; next thrusting his hand within, in an indifferent manner, then instantly jerking out and pointing the weapon at an imaginary foe in front of him. This maneuver he repeated scores of times, narrowly escaping the firing of the weapon, until he satisfied himself that he could do it to perfection.

"Now, if Lone Wolf comes at me alone, I think I can manage him. He won't suspect that I've any weapon, and so won't be prepared for it; but I hope he won't show himself," he added the next minute. "If there's any way of avoiding him, I'll do it."

However, he was bent upon solving the mystery of the distant camp fire, which he still hoped might belong to some party of white hunters, who would take him under their protection and conduct him safely over the wide and dangerous stretch of territory which still intervened between him and his destination.

In spite of the careful calculation he had made, he soon learned that he had committed an error. Although the tell-tale smoke at first seemed scarcely a mile away, it was more than three times that distance. The way being more obstructed by rocks and the sinuous winding of the trail, he saw the sun sinking low in the west and found that he had still no little traveling to do.

"It can't be that they are shifting that camp fire all the time," he growled, as he clambered upon an elevation, and was again disappointed to find it so far away. "Blamed if it don't look as if somebody was playing a trick on me. I've heard of a jack-o'-lantern bobbing around in that style, but nothing else."

He finally concluded that the laws of nature were not violated in this case, and with renewed courage pressed ahead again. The sky was clear and cloudless, the weather remained oppressively warm, and poor Ned was so jaded that he felt scarcely able to drag one foot after the other, but he was stout-hearted, and, just as the sun dipped out of sight behind the mountains, he found himself within a hundred yards of the mysterious camp.