CHAPTER XXIII
ON THE SHORE OF GOOSE NECK LAKE
The next morning the camp was again thoroughly examined; but no clues tothe identity of the intruder of the night before could be found, norcould they follow his trail beyond the spot where he had apparentlystumbled over Pedro. Here the ground, which happened to be a littlesoft, plainly showed where he had fallen and jumped to his feet andleaped off in the direction of the point of rocks, but farther than thisit was impossible to trail him on account of the hardness of the ground.There was absolutely nothing more that they could do; for it would beuseless to attempt to run him down in that wilderness of mountains; andthey were obliged to leave the mystery of the tent; it was a greatmystery to those strong watchful men how the gagging and the binding ofMrs. Dickson had been so quietly and effectively accomplished, unsolvedfor the present.
"Don't look much as if we'd thrown th' cunnin' devils off our trail,does it?" Ham grumbled, as our little company again started on theirjourney. "'Pears like as if we'd had all our trouble for our pains sofar. Wal, they didn't git th' skin map; but it shows they shore couldhave got it, if they'd knowed whar it was," and his face clouded. "Theymight have sneaked up ahind Dickson or Thure jest as easy an' knocked'em senseless an' bound an' gagged 'em. Reckon we've got tew be morekeerful or they'll git th' map yit. 'Bout how much longer will it takeus tew git tew that thar canyon?" and he turned anxiously to Mr.Dickson.
"We ought to make it in three days sure," answered Dickson. "Stackpoleand I did it in a little over two days from here; but, on account of thepack-horses, it will probably take us a little longer."
"Shore you remember th' trail?"
"Yes," and Dickson's eyes turned northward. "Now that I am on theground, things come back to me. See that opening between those twomountains?" and Dickson pointed to a ravine-like depression between twomountains some four or five miles away. "Well, I know we went up thatravine, because Stackpole pointed it out to me right from here, just asI am pointing it out to you; and that ravine, after a couple of miles,widens out into quite a little valley, with the mountain, called ThreeTree Mountain on the map, near its upper end."
"Wal, we shore was in luck, Dick, when we took you intew th'partnership," Ham declared heartily; "for, I reckon, we'd had a durnedlong hunt a-findin' our way jest by that map, but now all we've got tewdo is jest tew foller y'ur lead. Wal, lead on," and he grinned.
Dickson proved that his memory of the trail was correct; for, after theyhad entered the ravine between the two mountains and had gone up it fora couple of miles, it opened out into a beautiful little valley; andthere, near its upper end, stood a huge round-topped mountain, bald ofhead, except for three tall trees that stood out against the horizonlike three lonely sentinels.
"Hurrah!" yelled Thure, the moment his eyes caught sight of thismountain. "There is Three Tree Mountain! We sure are on the right trail.Bully for Dickson!"
Our friends now had passed beyond the realm of the hitherto ubiquitousminer. The wilderness was supreme. Everywhere around them mountains andforests and valleys and streams stood unchanged, as they came from thehand of God.
Game of all kinds was abundant. Bud shot a young buck elk, which theyate for supper, when they went into camp for the night at the foot ofThree Tree Mountain.
The guard was doubled that night and the camp-fire was kept blazingbrightly, so that no one could creep into camp unseen under cover of thedarkness. These precautions proved effectual; and the night was passedwithout alarm.
Dickson found no trouble in following the trail during the day. At everyturning point some remembered landmark would show him the right way togo. A short time before night they passed over a ridge of rocks andlooked down into a quiet little valley, near the center of which lay abeautiful little lake.
"Behold!" cried Dickson, pointing to the water, that shone like red goldin the red rays of the setting sun. "Behold, Goose Neck Lake! It waswhile standing at this very spot and looking down on the peculiarnecklike bend of the lake, that Stackpole gave it the name, Goose NeckLake. There is a little grove of trees on its north shore that will makeus a fine camping place. And tomorrow afternoon sometime we should be inLot's Canyon! Come on," and he hurried down the ridge toward the lake.
It was dark when they reached the north shore of the lake and pitchedtheir camp in the little grove of trees. All were in high spirits; foron the morrow they would be in Lot's Canyon, almost at their journey'send, almost within reach of the Cave of Gold!
For the last two days they had not seen nor heard a sign of theirenemies and they were beginning to hope that, in the maze of deepgulches and ravines and little mountain-enclosed valleys through whichthey had been passing, they had given them the slip, and this hope addedto their cheer. Consequently the little group that gathered around thecamp-fire that night was unusually merry--all except Pedro, who wentabout his camp duties with a sullen troubled look on his face. Eversince the night Mrs. Dickson had been found tightly bound in her tent,his face had worn a troubled expression and his eyes were continuallyturning to Thure, with a wondering questioning look in them, as if therewere something about the boy that he could not understand; and everytime he had heard the name of the skin map mentioned he had becomeinstantly alert, but always in such a way as not to attract attention inhis direction. Now, on this night, his was the only gloomy face in thecompany.
"Looks as if we had given th' skunks th' slip at last," Ham said, as heseated himself on his blanket, spread near the blazing fire, and leanedback comfortably on his elbow. "An' I don't wonder; for I don't believeeven Kit Carson himself could have kept on our trail through all themshort twistin' gulches an' thick woods, through which we've ben passin'for th' past tew days. Howsomever, I reckon, we hadn't better let upnone on th' caution bus'ness--But, let us forgit them skunks an' turnour minds tew more pleasant things, like a song from th' Leetle Woman,"and he turned to Mrs. Dickson. "I jest sorter feel hungry for musictonight. Please sing 'Old Dan Tucker,' an' Th' Emergrants Lament' an'--"
"'Ben Bolt,'" laughed Thure.
"Shore," grinned Ham. "I couldn't go tew sleep without hearin' 'BenBolt,' but let us have 'Old Dan Tucker' first."
Mrs. Dickson was in splendid voice that night and sang with unusualfervor, even for her; and the men kept begging her for "just one moresong," until, at last, with a laugh, she declared she just couldn't singanother song, and, bidding them all good night, hurried into her tent.
The guard was again doubled that night and instructed to keep thecamp-fire blazing brightly. Hammer Jones, Frank Holt, Mr. Randolph, andDill Conroyal, were to keep the first watch, through the darkest hoursof the night, before the moon came up. The night was clear and thestarlight bright enough to make objects dimly visible a few rods away.The grove where they were encamped was not large and the guards werestationed in its outskirts, where they could patrol all around it.
Hammer Jones' post was near the horses, on the opposite side of thegrove from the lake. About twenty rods from him, out on the open valleystood a large tree, with three or four smaller trees growing around it.In the starlight he could see the outlines of these trees dimly. Hestationed himself in the dark shadows of a large tree, where he couldkeep one eye on the horses and the camp, illuminated by the blazingcamp-fire, and the other on the surrounding valley.
For a couple of hours he neither saw nor heard a suspicious sign orsound. Then from the little clump of trees came the hoot of an owl thatcaused him to straighten up quickly and to listen intently. Ham hadspent the greater part of his life in the wilderness; and the voices ofits wild dwellers were as familiar to him as were the voices of hisfellow men; and something in the first hoot of that owl had awakened hissuspicions. It did not sound exactly right. There was a false quaver atthe end. In a minute the hoot was repeated, still with that unnaturalquaver at its end.
Along the outskirts of the grove grew a thin line of short bushes. Hamnow bent down until his form was hidden by these bushes, and begancreeping slowly and very cautiously toward
the clump of trees. In thisway he was able to get some three or four rods nearer to the spot thathad awakened his suspicions. During this cautious forward movement thehoot of the owl had been repeated three times, at intervals of about aminute, and the same false note had been sounded each time.
"I'd bet th' last coonskin in my pack that that's no owl hootin'," Hammuttered softly to himself, fixing his eyes intently on the dark shadowsunderneath the trees.
Suddenly he fancied he saw one of the shadows move.
"By gum, I'll chance a shot!" and swiftly throwing his rifle to hisshoulder, he fired at the spot where he thought he had seen the shadowmove.
There was a faint sound, like a smothered exclamation; and then all wasstill in the little grove of trees, nor could Ham's straining eyesdetect any further movements.
But his shot had aroused the camp; and now all the men, except theguard, came running to him, their rifles in their hands, excitedlycalling to know what was the matter.
"Jest a suspicious hoot of an owl an' a movin' shader," answered Ham. "Ireckon thar was one of them durned skunks a-hidin' in that clump oftrees, a-callin' out some signal; an' I shouldn't be none s'prised if mybullet pinked him. Leastwise I thought I heer'd a smothered cry."
"Get torches and we will see," cried Mr. Conroyal excitedly. "Maybe yougot him, Ham."
Thure and Bud hurried to the camp-fire and soon were back with blazingpine torches in their hands.
There were no hostile Indians in that part of the country, and they knewthat Ugger and his gang could not be there yet in sufficient force todare venture to attack them, so they did not fear to advance on thelittle clump of trees with lighted torches in their hands.
There were three small trees and the one large tree and a few low bushesin the clump. The ground around these was as carefully searched as waspossible by the light of the torches; but not a sign of Ham's human owldid they find.
"Must have been a real owl after all, Ham," Mr. Conroyal said, as he wasabout to give up the search and to return to the camp.
But, at this moment, Thure uttered a startled exclamation and, bendingquickly, picked up something from the ground and held it up where thelight of the torches showed it plainly to all.
It was a little finger freshly severed from a left hand!
"Marked him! By gum, I marked him!" cried Ham exultingly.
"You sure did, Ham," and Mr. Conroyal bent hastily and examined thefinger carefully. "It came from the hand of a white man all right," hedeclared. "And the hand of rather a small man, the left hand. Well, youwill know your man the next time you see him, Ham."
"I shore will," grinned Ham. "An', if I dew, I wants tew return him hisfinger; so I'll jest take charge of that leetle bit of anatominy," and,reaching out, he took the finger from Thure, and, carefully wrapping itup in a piece of buckskin, thrust it into one of his pockets. "Wal, th'excitement is all over now, boys, an' you can return tew y'ur downycouches an' soft pillers. I reckon thar won't be no more owl hootin'tew-night, leastwise not from that bird," and Ham chuckled.
All now returned to the camp and to their blankets; and Ham resumed hiswatch in the dark shadows under the big tree.
Ham was right. There was no more owl hooting that night. But the findingof that finger had brought uneasy thoughts to all. Evidently they hadnot succeeded in throwing their cunning enemies off the trail. And now,here they were within a few hours' march of Lot's Canyon, of the Cave ofGold, and with the scoundrels still hot on their track! What was to bedone? How could they now hope to throw Ugger and his men off theirtrail, when all their efforts so far had been in vain? Indeed, how hadUgger and his men been able to keep on their trail, through all the mazeof mountains and forests and winding gulches and twisting ravinesthrough which they had been passing? That was a great mystery to all--toall, except Pedro.
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