CHAPTER XII.
NAT'S LUCKY ESCAPE.
If a round black bomb had come rolling down the mountain side andexploded at Nat's feet he could not have been more thunderstruck thanhe was at the sudden appearance of his old enemy. True, he should havehad such a possibility in mind, but so intent had he been on his troutfishing, and the pain of his injury on the top of that, that he had notgiven a thought to the possibility of any of their foes being about.
"Don't make a racket," warned Al. Jeffries ominously, as he flourisheda revolver about, "I'm dreadful nervous, and if you make a noise Imight pull the trigger by accident."
Nat saw at once that this was one way of saying that he would be shotif he made any outcry, and he decided that there was nothing for himto do but to refrain from giving any shout of alarm. Had his ankle notbeen wrenched and giving him so much pain the boy would have tried torun for it. But as it was, he was powerless to do anything but wait.
"Ain't quite so gabby now as you was in Lower California," snarledDayton vindictively, as the boy sat staring at his captors.
"If you mean by that that I am not doing any talking, you're right,"rejoined Nat.
"That's a purty nice watch you've got there," remarked Al., gazing atNat's gold timepiece which had been jerked out of his breast pocketwhen he fell over the rock.
"Yes," agreed Nat, determined not to show them that he was alarmed byhis predicament, "my dead father gave me that."
"Well, just hand it over."
"What?"
Nat's face flushed angrily. His temper began to rise too.
"Come on, hand it over and don't be all night about it," ordered Al.
Nat jumped to his feet.
His fists were clenched ready for action. It seemed clear that if theywere going to take the watch from him while he had strength to protecthimself that they had a tough job in front of them. But an unexpectedinterruption occurred. It came from Ed. Dayton.
"See here, Al.," he growled, "don't get too previous. I reckon thecolonel can dispose of the watch as he sees fit. All such goes to himfirst you know, so as to avoid disputes."
"Don't see where you come in to run this thing," muttered Al., butnevertheless he subsided into silence.
All this time Nat's mind had been working feverishly. But cast about ashe would he could not hit on a plan of escape.
"I guess the only thing to do is to let them make the first move, andthen lie low and watch for a chance to get away," he thought to himself.
"Wonder what they mean to do with me anyhow?"
He was not left long in doubt.
"Get the horses," Dayton ordered, turning to Al. Jeffries.
The other, still grumbling, turned obediently away however. Thereseemed to be no doubt that Ed. Dayton was a man of some power in theband. Nat saw this with a sinking heart. He knew the vengeful characterof the man too well for it not to cause him the gravest apprehensionof what his fate might be. Not by so much as a flicker of an eyelash,however, did he let the ruffians see that he was alarmed. He would notfor worlds have given them the satisfaction of seeing him weaken.
Pretty soon Al. returned with three ponies. The animals must have beenhidden in the brush on the opposite, or mountain side of the stream,for this was the direction in which Al. had gone to get them. They werea trio of wiry little steeds. On the back of each was a high-horned andcantled Mexican saddle, with a rifle holster and a canteen slung fromit. The bridle of Dayton's pony was decorated with silver ornaments inthe Western fashion.
"Come on. Get up kid," said Dayton gruffly, seizing Nat by theshoulder, "we've got a long way to go with you."
A long way to go!
The words sounded ominous, and Nat, hurt as he was, decided on takinga desperate chance. Springing suddenly to his feet he lowered his headand ran full tilt at Dayton, driving his head into the pit of theruffian's stomach with the force of a battering ram.
"Wo-o-o-f!"
With the above exclamation the rascal doubled up and pitched over.Before the others could recover their presence of mind Nat, despite thepain in his ankle, had managed to dash in among the brush where it wasimpossible to aim at him with any hope of bringing him down.
Nevertheless, Dayton's companions started firing into the close-growingvegetation.
"Fire away," thought Nat, painfully struggling through the thickgrowth, "the more bullets you waste the fewer you'll have for yourrascally work."
But Dayton had, by this time, scrambled to his feet, and the boy couldhear him shouting angry commands. At the same instant came shouts fromanother direction.
With a quick flash of joy, Nat recognized the new voices. The shoutswere in the welcome and familiar tones of Cal Gifford and the MotorRangers.
"Mount, boys, and get out of here quick!"
The warning shout came from behind the fleeing boy, and was in thevoice of Dayton. The rascal evidently had heard, and interpretedaright, the exclamations and shouts from the meadow side of the brook.The next instant a clattering of hoofs announced the fact that themembers of Col. Morello's band of outlaws were putting all the distancebetween themselves and the Motor Rangers' camp that they could.
"Good riddance," muttered Nat, thinking how nearly he had come to beingborne off with them.
But the tension of the excitement over, the pain in his ankle almostovercame him. He sank limply down on a rock and sent out a cry for aid.
"Cal! Cal! this way!"
"Yip yee!" he heard the welcome answering shout, and before manyseconds had passed Herr Muller's horse, with the Westerner astrideof its bony back, came plunging into the brush. Behind came Joe andDing-dong, wide-eyed with excitement. They had missed their comradeand had been searching for him when the sound of the shots came. Cal,who had also become anxious, and had ridden down from the camp to thestream side, was with them at the moment. Together the rescue party hadhastened forward, too late however, to find Dayton and his companions.They naturally heard Nat's story with deep interest and attention.
"Good thing them varmints didn't know that you two weren't armed," saidCal, turning to Joe and Ding-dong, "or they might hev stayed. In whichcase the whole bunch of us might have been cleaned out."
"I think it will be a pretty good rule never to leave camp in futurewithout a revolver or a rifle," said Nat, painfully rising to his feetand steadying himself by gripping Bismark's mane.
"Right you are, my boy. We ought to have done thet in the first place.Howsomever, the thing to do now is to get you back ter camp. Come on,I'll give you a leg up."
As he spoke, Cal slid off Bismark's back, and presently Nat was in hisplace. Escorted by Joe and Ding-dong, the cavalcade lost no time ingetting back to where the auto had been left in charge of Herr Muller.
"Get any pictures while we was gone?" asked Cal as they came withinhailing distance.
"Nein," rejoined the German sorrowfully.
"Nine," exclaimed Cal looking about him, "where in thunder did you getnine subjects about here?"
"He means no," said Nat, who had to laugh despite his pain, at thisconfusion of tongues.
"Wall, why can't he say so?" grunted Cal, plainly despising theignorance of the foreigner.
Nat's ankle was found to be quite badly twisted, but Cal's knowledge ofwoodcraft stood them in good stead. After examining it and making surethat nothing was broken, the former stage driver searched about thegrassy meadow for a while and finally plucked several broad leaves froma low-growing bush. These had a silvery tint underneath and were darkon the upper surface.
"Silver weed," said Cal briefly, as he came back to the camp. Selectinga small pot, he rapidly heated some water on the fire which Herr Mullerhad kindled in his absence. This done, he placed the leaves to steep init and after a while poured off the water and made a poultice with theleaves. This he bound upon Nat's ankle and in a wonderfully short timethe pain was much reduced, and the boy could use his foot.
In the meantime, a spiderful of beans and bacon had been cooked to gowith the fried trout,
and the inevitable coffee prepared. For dessertthey had canned peaches, topping off the spread with crackers andcheese.
"Tell you," remarked Cal, as he drew out his black pipe and preparedto enjoy his after dinner smoke, "this thing of travelling round in anauto is real, solid comfort. We couldn't hev had a spread like that ifwe'd bin on the trail with a packing outfit."
Dinner over and Nat feeling his ankle almost as well as ever, itwas decided to start on at once. For one thing, the outlaws mighthave marked the camping place and it was not a good enough strategicposition to withstand an attack if one should be made.
"We want to be in a snugger place than this if that outfit starts in onus," said Cal decisively.
"Do you think they'll make us more trouble then?" inquired Joe.
"I think that what they did to-day shows that they are keeping prettyclose watch on us, my boy. It's up to us to keep our eyes open by dayand sleep with one optic unclosed at night."
Herr Muller and Ding-dong Bell, who had undertaken the dishwashing,soon concluded the task and the Motor Rangers once more set out. Theyfelt some regret at leaving the beautiful camping spot behind them, butstill, as Cal had pointed out, it was a bad location from which torepulse an enemy, supposing they should be attacked.
"Vell, I'm gladt I didndt drop from dot tree," remarked Herr Muller,gazing back at the lofty summit of the imposing Big Tree, in which hehad had such a narrow escape.
"You take your pictures on terra firma after this," advised Joe.
"Or if you do any more such stunts leave the camera with us," suggestedCal, who was leading the Teuton's steed.
"Then we could get a g-g-g-g-good pup-p-p-picture of what Englandd-d-dreads," stuttered Ding-dong.
"What's that?" inquired Nat.
"The G-g-g-g-g-german p-p-p-peril," chuckled the stuttering youth.
Soon after leaving the pleasant plateau of the big trees the scenerybecame rough and wild in the extreme. The Sierras are noted for theirdeep, narrow valleys, and after about an hour's progress over veryrough trails the Motor Rangers found themselves entering one of thesegloomy defiles. After the bright sunlight of the open country its dimgrandeur struck a feeling of apprehension into their minds. It seemedchilly and oppressive somehow.
"Say, perfusser," suggested Cal presently, "just sing us that Chinesesong to cheer us up, will you?"
"Hi lee! Hi lo! Hi lee! Hi lay!----"
The "perfusser," as Cal insisted on calling him, had obligingly begunwhen from ahead of them and high up, as it seemed, came a peculiarsound.
It was a crackling of brush and small bushes apparently. InstinctivelyNat stopped the car and it was well that he did so, for the nextinstant a giant boulder came crashing down the steep mountainside abovethem.
Instinctively Nat stopped the car, and it was well thathe did so, for the next instant a giant boulder came crashing down.]
The Motor Rangers Through the Sierras Page 12
