The Border Boys in the Canadian Rockies

by John Henry Goldfrap

  CHAPTER XXI.

  INDIANS.

  “Well, this is a fine fix!”

  “About as bad as it could be.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know yet. But we’ll find a way out somehow.”

  Mountain Jim spoke with his accustomed confidence; but it was easy totell by his puckered brow and anxious eyes that he was by no meansquite so certain of finding a way out of their unexpected trouble as hewould have it appear.

  An examination of the rock showed that it was a huge and heavy boulderthat by ill luck happened almost exactly to fit the opening of thecave. Only the crack at the top, which was narrow and irregularadmitted light and air.

  “Well, we’re in a snug enough place now,” declared Mountain Jim, witha rueful grin, as he completed his examination, “the only objectionis that we’re too blamed snug. I could do with a thinner door, for mypart.”

  Ralph agreed with him. The boy’s spirits were considerably dashed bythis misfortune which, indeed, appeared to portend serious, even fatalresults if some way could not be found out of their quandary.

  They tried shoving the great rock, but their efforts were of no moreavail than if they had been a couple of puny babes.

  “That settles that,” grunted Mountain Jim, wiping the sweat off hisface as they concluded their efforts. “‘No admittance,’ that’s the signwe ought to have hung outside.”

  “‘No exit,’ would be more like it,” retorted Ralph, “I don’t see whyanyone would want to get in here.”

  He spoke sharply and Mountain Jim looked at him with a quizzical look.

  “Now don’t blow up, youngster,” he said, “things might be a lot worse.For instance, you might be under that rock at this blessed minute.”

  “By Jove! That’s so, and I owe it to you that I’m not,” spoke Ralphquickly, flushing shame-facedly over his exhibition of temper.

  “That part of it is all right,” responded Mountain Jim easily, “but thepoint is that I’ve been in a heap tighter places than this and got outwith a whole skin. Let’s form ourselves into a Committee of Ways andMeans--of getting out of here.”

  “All right. You start off. Any suggestions?”

  “Yep. I’ve got one right hot off the griddle.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Well, the storm seems to have died down a bit now, and you can gooutside and take a look and then report back on what you find.”

  “But how in the world am I going to get out?”

  “See that crack at the top there?”

  “Yes; but----”

  “Hold on. You never know what a narrow place you can squeeze throughtill you try. It’s my opinion that you can slip through that crack aseasy as a bit of thread through the eye of a darning needle.”

  Ralph eyed the crack between the top of the stone and the roof of thecave dubiously.

  “I’ll try it,” he said, “but first I’ll take off my coat. That’ll makeme thinner.”

  He shed his stout hunting jacket and took the axe out of his belt.Then, aided by Mountain Jim, he clambered up and looked outside. Thestorm was rolling away to the southeast, and before long, as he couldsee, the sun would be shining once more. If only they could get outthey could resume their journey without delay.

  As Jim had foretold, it was not a hard matter for the lithe, slim boyto wriggle through the crack, narrow as it had appeared to be frombelow. Ralph stuck his head through and then drew the rest of his bodyup. In a minute he was on the outside of the cave and free.

  “Oh, Jim,” he called back, “can’t you make it, too?”

  “Not me. My two hundred pounds would never get through that mousehole,” responded Jim with perfect good humor. “I guess I’ll have tostay here till I get thin enough to follow you.”

  Ralph slid down the rough face of the rock and then fell to examiningits base eagerly. It rested on a small terrace just in front of thecave, but it didn’t take him long to see that no ordinary means woulddislodge it.

  “How about you?” shouted Jim from within his rocky prison.

  “I’m afraid there’s no hope, Jim,” was the disheartening reply. “It’splanted as solidly as Gibraltar, outside here. A giant couldn’t moveit.”

  “Well, as there’s no giants likely to happen along, that don’t muchmatter,” said Jim in his dry way, from within the cave.

  “But,” he added, “if we had some giant powder, that would be adifferent thing.”

  “You mean blasting powder?”

  “Yep, ‘giant powder’ is what we call it up here.”

  “If we can’t do anything else, I’d better ride to some settlement andtry to get some.”

  “Yes, unless any miner or prospector happens along and that’s notlikely.”

  “Why not?”

  “‘Cause this is in the Blood Indians’ reservation and the Bloods don’ttake kindly to strangers roaming around on their property and huntingand prospectin’.”

  “Are they bad Indians?”

  “Well, not exactly. Just ugly, I reckon ’ud be about the name fer it.The guv’ment keeps fire water away from ’em all it can, but they sneakit in somehow and a Blood with whisky in him is a bad proposition.They’ll steal ponies, rob houses, do most anything.”

  “Well, I don’t know that I’d mind seeing even a Blood Indian now,” saidRalph, “in spite of their ugly name. Maybe they could help us or at anyrate ride for help.”

  “Son, a Blood would just as soon shove you off a cliff if he saw youstanding on the edge of one, as he would tell you you were in danger ofa tumble. But say, get me a drink of water, will you? I’m as dry as anold crust after shoving at this bloomin’ rock.”

  Ralph went toward the ponies, where the canteens hung to the saddlehorns. But both were almost empty and as the creek was raging androaring not far below him, he determined to go down to it and refilltheir water containers.

  He found the creek much swollen by the rain, and racing and tumbling onits boulderous bed like a miniature torrent. But the water was clearand cold, and he took a long drink before refilling the canteens. Thisdone, he pushed his way among the alders back toward the blocked-upcave.

  All at once, off to the right, he heard the sound of hoofs and voices.

  “Good enough,” thought the lad to himself, “here’s some one who cangive us a hand to get out of this precious fix we’re in.”

  He hurried forward, but the alders were thick and his hands wereoccupied so that his progress was slow. From time to time awhipping-back branch would slap him a stinging blow across the face,making it smart painfully.

  So it was that he did not emerge into the clearing until the voices hehad heard had grown quite close. In fact, the appearance of the boywith the canteens and the emergence of three horsemen into the clearingwere simultaneous. But as Ralph beheld those horsemen his heart gave aquick, alarmed bound, and then sank into his boots.

  They were Indians! Evidently they had just seen the tethered ponies ofthe white men and were discussing them with animation.

  All three were mounted on wiry ponies. Two wore blankets and soft hats,with much patched trousers poking from under the folds of their gaudywrappings. The third, who appeared to be some sort of a superior being,was garbed in an old frock coat, several sizes too large for him, andin his soft hat was stuck a long eagle feather, as if to symbolize hisrank.

  But in spite of their semi-civilized garb, all three had cruel, savagefaces and eyed the tethered ponies with gluttonous eyes. As Ralphwatched them, the one with the frock coat drew out a bottle and handedit in turn to his two companions.

  “They’re Bloods and they’ve got hold of fire-water some place,”murmured Ralph. “We’re in for more trouble now, and I left my rifle inthe cave!”

  He crouched back among the alders, wondering if Jim was aware of whatwas going forward outside the blockaded cave. So far the Indians hadnot seen him, and Ralph was not particularly anxious that they should.