The G.A. Henty

by G. A. Henty

  “Shall we have to come back this way?” Dick asked.

  “That must depend upon circumstances,” Dave replied. “We might make straight north and come down on a pass that crosses the mountains about a hundred and fifty miles north of the Sisters, but I reckon it would be a terrible journey to undertake with loaded mules. Then again we might strike east, and make either for Albuquerque or Socorro. Like enough we may find that our best way.”

  CHAPTER VII

  The Scarcity of Water

  Five days later they reached the stream. The miners had all recognized points that they had passed on their former journey, and all agreed that it was lower down on this stream that the Crow’s village was situated. For the moment this was a matter of inferior importance to them. It was enough that they had reached water, for they had for the last four days been traversing an arid waste of broken country, without as much as a tree under which they could lie during the day. They had filled up all their water skins before entering on this region, and these had sufficed for them and their animals, but for the last two days they had been obliged to husband it. What remained tasted so strongly of the skins that at any other time the boys could not have drank it, but men and horses were both filled with delight at the sight of the bright clear water. The baggage and saddles were removed, and the animals were allowed to drink their fill, and then to lie down in the stream while their riders enjoyed the luxury of a bath.

  They had done no cooking for the last four days, as no fuel of any sort was to be obtained, and they lived upon the dried meat and a drink of flour and water. The banks of the stream were well wooded, and the animals, as soon as their thirst was quenched, fell to work upon the grass that grew knee-deep near its banks.

  “We must do some cooking to-day,” Dave said, “and a good batch of it; there is no saying when it will be safe to cook again. We must wait till night, and then light the fire in the thickest part of these trees, and fasten our blankets up round it to prevent its light being seen. We can collect the firewood in readiness before it gets dark.”

  The spot was carefully chosen, the horseropes were fastened from tree to tree around it, and all the blankets hung on them.

  “We must take it by turns,” Dave said, “to keep the fire up, and go on baking. We will make a dozen loaves if we can.”

  As they sat round the fire later on they discussed their next move, and agreed that as the river was shallow they would cross it at once, and then follow it up stream. Should they find no landmarks answering to those on the map, they would then return and go down the stream.

  Next morning they started again, with fifteen loaves done up in a blanket on one of the ponies. The journey was toilsome, for the river ran in places through gorges where the rocks rose sheer from its edge, and they were forced to make considerable detours, and to come down upon it again. They had traveled, they calculated, but eight miles up the stream, when they came upon a valley running east. A small stream ran down it, and fell into the river they were following.

  “This looks a likely sort of place,” Dave said; “it is the sort of valley a party exploring would be likely to follow. There is wood, water, and grass. Now for the landmarks.”

  They went on until they reached the spot where the stream fell into the river.

  “We can’t do better than camp here, Dave,” ’Zekel said; “it has been a rough journey for the ponies, and they will be all the better for another good feed.”

  “All right,” Dave agreed, “I don’t see any signs of the landmarks, but they may be somewhere about. We will unsaddle the ponies. Boys, you may as well walk up the stream a bit. Keep your eyes open, but don’t go very far away. Keep your rifles ready for use; there is no saying but what some prowling Indian may not have caught sight of us as we came along.”

  The boys unslung their rifles, which were strapped tightly to their backs—they were already loaded—and started up the valley. In a quarter of a mile they passed through the low wood which filled the bottom of the valley. In front of them was an open space, bright with long grass and flowers. In the center of this stood two large trees, one on either side of the stream. They hurried on, and when they reached the trees saw, to the northwest, two peaks, one nearer and lower than the other, in an exact line. As the direction was exactly that of the two dots on the map, they had no doubt whatever that they had hit the right spot. They returned at once with the news to the men. Dave had already lighted a fire, for in this sheltered valley there was little fear of the slight smoke it made being seen, broken up as it was in its passage through the leaves overhead.

  “We have found the marks,” Dick said, as they arrived. “We don’t think there can be any mistakes about them.”

  “Have you? That is good,” and the three men at once went on to the two trees.

  “There is no doubt that is what was meant,” Boston Joe said. “Wall, I am glad to see them—it shows, anyhow, that we are right in our guess-work as to the map, which we never felt quite sure of before, seeing them three peaks war the only thing we had to go on, and the marks might not have been meant for them arter all. Now the matter air clear and fixed, and we have only got to go ahead.”

  “Yes, we will stick to the line they have traveled as shown in the map, but if we miss it, it is no great odds; we know where we have got to go to, and we can find our way there, I guess, anyhow. Still, their line may be the best. They may have had some redskin as their guide, who knew the country, and took them the best way. Anyhow, we can’t do better than try and follow it.”

  CHAPTER VIII

  The Golden Valley

  It was nearly a month later that the gold-seekers arrived at a point due south of the three peaks. The journey had been a toilsome one. At times they made their way through deep gorges. At others they had to climb rocky hills, where the horses could scarce obtain a foothold. One of their pack ponies had been lost, having slipped and fallen over a precipice many hundreds of feet deep, and they had lost a day making a long detour to reach the spot where he fell, in order to recover the articles he had carried. For the first half of the distance they had, they believed, followed the track marked on the map, but they then found themselves at the head of a deep valley from which they could discover no egress, and it was therefore clear that they must have misunderstood the marks and have taken a wrong turning somewhere.

  From this time they had put aside the map, and made their way as nearly east as the inequalities of the ground permitted. They had no difficulties as to forage for their horses. In many of the valleys there was an abundance of coarse grass, and among the rocks the aloe and cactus grew thickly, and when, as was sometimes the case, no water was to be found, they peeled the thorny skin from the thick juicy leaves and gave the pulp to the animals.

  For themselves they shot three bears and several small mountain deer. There was little fear of the sound of their rifles being heard in these mountain gorges, and should the report have reached the ear of an Indian he would have supposed that it was the gun of some red hunters. There were indeed only two villages marked on the map anywhere near the line they were following, as the great bulk of the Indians lived on the slopes of the hills on either side of the Gila, whence they could make their raids into Mexico to the south or to New Mexico to the east.

  Here among the mountains they could subsist on the proceeds of the chase and the little plantations tended by the women, but this offered small attractions to the restless and warlike Indians, who preferred depending upon the plunder that they could always gather by a raid upon the defenseless Mexican villages. Thus during the whole journey they had not once caught sight of an Indian, though they had two or three times made out, with the aid of a telescope Tom had brought with him, little clusters of wigwams far away among the hills.

  “There will be more danger when we get near the place,” ’Zekel said one evening when they were talking it over. “The redskins know well enough that it is gold the whites who come into their mountains are in search of, and I
guess they know every place where it is to be found. A redskin always has his eyes open. A broken branch, a stone newly rolled down on a path, the ashes of a fire, the slightest thing that is new, he is sure to notice, and the glitter of gold, whether in a stream or in a vein, would be certain to catch his eye, and if this place is specially rich they are safe to know of it, and would keep some sort of watch to see that it is not found out by the whites.”

  “That is so,” Dave agreed; “of course we don’t know how the party that Mexican got the map from got wiped out. It may have been on their way back, but it is more likely it was at the mine itself, and we may find signs of them when we get there. I hope they had been at work some time before they were attacked; if so we may like enough find a store of gold without the trouble of working for it. It is no use to the redskins. They don’t do any trade with the whites, and they don’t wear gold ornaments. They are wise enough to know that if they were to show much gold about them it would make the whites more eager than ever to come in among their mountains in search of it, so if the Mexican party gathered some up afore they went under, like enough we shall find it.”

  It was with deep satisfaction that they at last caught sight of the mountain with three sharp peaks, but it was four days after they first saw it that they reached a point due south of it. They were now in a wide valley running east and west; to the south a wall of rock rose in a seemingly unbroken line. On the northern side of the valley the hills sloped away, rising one above another, with the peaks of the Sisters visible above them all.

  They had left their animals in charge of Boston Joe, in a clump of trees four miles back, as the miners were of opinion that some Indian village might lie somewhere in the neighborhood, and that it would be safer to make their way on foot. One of the many branches of the Gila ran alongthe center of the valley, but except in deep pools it was now dry.

  “Now we must keep a sharp lookout for marks on the hills,” Dave said; “we know we are about right as to the line, but we may have to go two or three miles north or as much south before we get a mark just bearing on that middle peak. Stop,” he broke off suddenly; “look up there just beyond the shoulder of that hill; there are some wigwams, sure enough.”

  Tom brought his telescope to bear.

  “Yes, there are about twenty of them, but they never can see us at this distance.”

  “Don’t you make any mistake, young fellow; there aint no saying what an Indian can see and what he can’t see. I reckon their eyes is as good as that glass of yours, and I would not guarantee they could not see a rabbit run at this distance. There, get among those rocks at the foot of the cliff; we will make our way along them, hiding as much as we can. I suppose those are horses away there on the hillside to the right of the village; they can’t be nothing else.”

  “Yes, they are horses, Dave.”

  For another half hour they made their way among the rocks, and then Dick exclaimed suddenly:

  “Look, Dave, there is a tree standing by itself at the top of that hill. I believe in another fifty yards it will just be on the line of the peaks.”

  “I think you are right, Dick, and we have hit the very point at the first try; if it is right, there must be a break in this wall above us.”

  CHAPTER IX

  The Tree on the Peak

  They hastened on now with their eyes fixed on the tree. A minute later an exclamation broke from Dave, who was ahead, and the others on joining him saw that the great wall of rock had been split as if by an earthquake. The opening was not more than ten yards wide, and on looking up a narrow line of sky appeared between the walls of rock. Looking the other way, they saw that the tree on the hill bore exactly on the middle peak, the Indian village lying just in the same line halfway up the hill.

  “Here is the place, sure enough,” Dave said; “there can’t be no mistake about it; it is just as the map made it, the tree on the middle peak and the line from them going right into this Canyon. Look, boys, there is a stream comes down here in the wet season, and runs into the one in the middle of the valley. See, I can make out gold sparkling in the sand; that is how it was the place was found; they were prospecting along the valley, and they came upon gold, and traced it up to the mouth of this Canyon.”

  “Shall we go in now, Dave?” Dick asked excitedly, for they were still standing among the rocks, which broke off abruptly opposite the mouth of the Canyon, those in front of it evidently having been swept away by the torrents flowing down it.

  “No, don’t go a step forward, Dick. Don’t let us risk nothing by showing ourselves now. We will make our way back as we came to Boston, and bring up the horses after dark. We have not got a chance to throw away, I can tell you.”

  At night they returned with the horses; two blankets had been cut up, and the feet of the animals muffled.

  “If one of them redskins was to come upon our track and saw the print of a horseshoe, it would be all up with us,” Zeke said; “we had best do the same ourselves; the heel of boot would be as ugly a mark as a horseshoe. We must keep well along at the edge of these fallen rocks. Like enough they come down here to fetch water up to their village, and the further we keep away from the stream the better.”

  The moon was half full, which was fortunate, as they would otherwise have had great difficulty in finding the narrow gap in the cliff. Its light, too, enabled them to avoid rocks that had rolled out farther than the rest; once inside the gorge it was pitch-dark, and they had to feel their way along.

  In about a hundred yards it began to widen, and they soon found themselves in a narrow valley with perpendicular sides, which seemed to widen farther up. The horses, were at once unloaded.

  “Now do you lie down,” Dave said. “I will keep watch at the mouth. I don’t think there is any danger; still, we may as well begin as we shall have to go on.”

  “Well, call me up in a couple of hours, then,” Zeke said; “it will begin to get light in about four, and as soon as it does we will cover up the tracks.”

  With the first dawn of light the three miners, taking their blankets, went down to the mouth of the Canyon. The boys accompanied them to watch their operations. It was only in the sand and gravel swept down by the floods from the gorge that any footmarks could be seen; these were first leveled, and then with the blankets the surface of the sand was carefully swept so as to erase all signs of disturbance. Before the sun was up the operation was completed, twenty or thirty yards up the Canyon.

  “That is enough for the present,” Dave said; “we are safe from anyone passing. Now, let us have a look round up above.”

  “They must have been awful careless if they were surprised in here,” Zeke said; “half a dozen men ought to hold this place against a hull tribe of redskins.”

  “That is so,” Boston Joe agreed, “but the greasers are mighty bad watchmen, and no doubt they thought they were safe in here. That Indian village could not have been over on the hill opposite then, or it would have been put down on the map.”

  “Like enough they had been followed,” Dave said. “If a redskin had caught sight of them, he might have followed on their trail for weeks, till he found where they were going, and then made off to bring his tribe down on them. It may be that one has been hanging behind us just in the same way.”

  “It is a very unpleasant idea,” Tom said.

  “The redskins’ ways aint pleasant,” Dave said. “Well, let us be moving up. The first thing we have got to look for aint gold. There is no doubt about that being here somewhere. What we have got to look for is if there is any way out of this hole, because it is a regular trap, and if we were caught here we might hold the gorge for a long time, but they would have us at last certain; besides, they could shoot us down from the top.”

  They proceeded a few hundred yards up the valley, and then stopped suddenly on a cleared space of ground. In the center lay a score of skeletons, some separately, some in groups of twos and threes. The remnants of the rags that still hung on them showed that they had b
een Mexicans. The two lads felt a thrill of horror at this proof of the fate that had befallen their predecessors.

  “Wall,” Zeke exclaimed, “that was something like a surprise; there aint no sign they made a fight of it; they were just caught in their sleep, and never even gathered, for resistance. Well, well, what fools men are to be sure. I shouldn’t have believed as even Mexicans would have been such fools as to sleep here without putting a guard at the entrance. I reckon the redskins must have come down from above somewhere, and so caught them unawares. Well, let us be moving on.”

  CHAPTER X

  Watched

  A little higher up the valley narrowed again, the sides came closer and closer, until they closed in abruptly in a rounded precipice, down which in the wet season it was evident that a waterfall leaped from a height above.

  “They didn’t come down here,” Dave said. “If it were anywhere it was near where the attack was made; the sides slope away a bit there. Now keep your eyes skinned, and see if you can make out any place where a man might climb up or down. Our lives may depend on it.”

  Just as they reached the old encampment Dick said, “Look, Dave, there is a ledge running up behind that bush; it seems to me that it joins another ledge halfway up. Tom and I are accustomed to climbing; we will go up a bit and see if it goes anywhere.”