The Pioneer Boys of the Yellowstone; or, Lost in the Land of Wonders

by St. George Rathborne

  CHAPTER XII

  UNEXPECTED HELP

  THE three dropped to the ground, where they flattened themselves outso as to be as inconspicuous as possible. Of course the prospect ofapproaching trouble caused the hearts of the boys to beat doubly fast,but they managed to control themselves.

  "Do you think they saw us?" whispered Roger, finding his head close tothat of his comrade.

  "We will soon know," replied the other, in the same cautious manner."They have not given a single yelp as yet. But Mayhew is beckoningto us. He wants us to crawl along after him, where these bushes willshield us."

  They kept as close to the ground as possible while making progress.Now and then one of them would carefully raise his head to take anobservation. When this chanced to be Dick, his cousin invariablywhispered an inquiry in his ear, which the other answered with amovement of the head.

  They could hardly believe that the keen-eyed Indians had failed tonotice their presence, though it did seem strange that they should haverefrained from announcing their delight at the discovery in fierceyelps, as was their custom.

  Mayhew undoubtedly had some sort of plan in mind when he beckoned theothers to follow. He was an experienced scout, and knew as much aboutthe tricky ways of the red men as any borderer of his time. It was onthis account that Captain Clark had suggested that he accompany theboys on this trip, as well as to allow Mayhew a chance to repair thedamage his blunder had done to their cause.

  Three times he abruptly changed his course. Evidently he had a reasonfor this, and Dick suspected that the guide must have discovered theenemy to be lying in wait for them ahead.

  It was thrilling, but tiresome. Roger found himself wishing heartilythat something would happen to break the silence. It seemed to beoppressive, to be weighing him down as with a heavy load. Indeed, tothe impulsive lad almost anything would be preferable to this terriblestillness.

  It was while Roger was allowing himself to give way to this feeling,and wondering whether, after all, it might not do better if theysprang to their feet and ran for it, that something did occur, and of anature to surprise him.

  Crouching at the foot of a tree, and just about to slowly get to hisknees in order to take an observation, Roger suddenly felt himselfpulled down. Dick had seized his hunting tunic, and given it a quick,strong tug.

  At the same instant Roger heard an odd, whistling sound that seemed tocome from a point very close to his ear; this in turn was succeeded bya little thud, such as one might make when striking his hunting knifeagainst the bark of a tree.

  As the boy twisted his head around, his wondering eyes fell uponsomething that caused him to draw in a long quavering breath. It wasthe feathered shaft of a Blackfoot arrow that had its flint head burieddeep in the yielding wood of the tree. In order to have reached thatspot it must have passed only a few inches above Roger's body.

  Then the Indians _did_ know of their presence; the fact of this shafthaving been sent in their direction told the story. Roger somehow foundhimself wondering if those stories he had heard about the Blackfootwarriors poisoning the tips of their war arrows could have anyfoundation in truth. It was not a pleasant thought when they foundthemselves at bay, surrounded by an unknown number of the savagetribesmen.

  But Mayhew was once more creeping on; if he did not wish to be leftbehind he must follow in the wake of the guide.

  Dick brought up the rear. It may have been accident that brought thisabout, and, then again, perhaps the boy had some design in taking hisplace at the end of the line. He knew the impulsive ways of his cousin,and that there was always a chance that Roger might get himself intotrouble through lack of caution.

  Possibly the guide had knowledge of some locality that lay a shortdistance beyond, where they could defend themselves better than inthe open. The face of the country was rough, and in many places rockscropped out that could be made to serve those who were surrounded byperils.

  Once again was the whistle of a feathered shaft heard, though thistime it simply cut through the bushes over their heads, and found nolodgment in the trunk of a tree.

  This was the second narrow escape they had had. It was not to beexpected that such good fortune would continue. Other arrows werebound to be fired, and at any minute one better aimed than the restmight find lodgment in a human body.

  Roger gritted his teeth savagely as he crept on. How he wished Mayhewwould come to a pause, thus signifying he had done all he could tofurther their escape, and was now at the end of his rope! Then theycould rise up, and use their guns upon the crafty enemy, following withthe pistols they also carried, and which at short range would count forjust as much as the rifles.

  Was the ground actually trembling underneath, or did his own shakycondition deceive him? Roger could not decide this question off hand.It seemed to him that, when he placed a hand on the rocks, it felt awarmth that was unmistakable. At any other time he would have wantedto stop to discover why this should be so; but the conditions by whichthey were surrounded just then would hardly permit such a waste ofprecious seconds.

  In imagination Roger could see the Indians creeping up, bows and arrowsin hand, waiting until a certain point had been reached, when theywould give a concerted whoop, and rush to the attack.

  He wondered if they had ever heard a gun fired at close quarters and,if not, whether the sound would alarm them. It had proved to be thecase in other instances he had heard old trappers mention, where theywere saved through the fear shown by the savages at hearing the crash,and seeing the flash, when guns had been discharged.

  Ah! that was a third arrow he heard hurtling past, and it must haveshivered into splinters against that rock when it struck. Either themarksmen were sending their missiles at random, or else they had somedesign in thus driving the three crouching whites forward. Was theresome sort of a trap beyond, into which they might fall? Roger was ofhalf a mind to turn on Dick, and demand that they change their methodof retreat into one of open defiance.

  There was no need of his taking this step, because circumstancesdecided for him. Even as he was hesitating, and more than half inclinedto force the issue, there broke out such ear-piercing yells as neitherof the two boys had ever heard before.

  To Roger's mind that settled it, once and for all. Further flight wasuseless--at least, flight of the slow and hesitating type they hadbeen trying to carry out. If they chose to try to escape without afight, then they must take to their heels, dodging to the right and theleft so as to avoid the rain of arrows that was sure to follow them.

  To scramble to their feet was the work of an instant. All held theirweapons ready for immediate use, because they believed they would haveneed of them, with the enemy charging from several points at once.

  When Roger looked around he found it hard to decide where to sendthe bullet his gun carried. Here and there he could catch glimpsesof flashing forms as they darted from rock to rock; but all thesemovements were executed with such surprising quickness that, althoughhe several times started to raise his rifle, before he could obtain anysort of aim the object of his attention had vanished.

  Perhaps the quivering tip of a colored feather worn in the hair of anagile brave would be seen above the crown of the sheltering rock, butit would be folly to waste ammunition on such a will-o'-the-wisp target.

  The worst of the matter was that all this time the dodging foes weregradually drawing their ring closer and closer around the threewhites. Every time a flitting copper-colored figure flashed acrossa little opening, to disappear again behind other shelter, it wasshortening by just so much the distance separating the two hostileparties.

  Arrows were beginning to hurtle past their heads, too, as some ofthe red men found opportunities to use their bows. That none of thepalefaces had thus far been struck was more a matter of good luck thananything else.

  Mayhew did not mean to stand there and wait for the coming of all thoseskulking warriors. He knew that there must be a score of them, alltold, and, should it come to a hand-to-hand combat he and his y
oungcompanions would have but a sorry chance to hold their own, much lessbe victors in the encounter.

  In one direction, alone, could he seem to discover an opening, wherefor some reason the Indians had failed to cover the ground.

  "Follow me, lads, and duck as you run!" he shouted at the top of hisvoice, at the same time starting off at a furious pace.

  Then began a curious race, with the three fugitives jumping from sideto side as they ran, hoping in this way to escape being hit by anyarrows that might be sent after them.

  Some of the Indians halted to make use of their bows, but the main bodykept after the three fugitives. If the worst came, of course the whitescould suddenly whirl about, and do some execution with their firearms,though Mayhew knew that it would never do to let the pursuers approachso close as to be able to hurl their stone-headed tomahawks, with whichthey could split a willow wand, if placed against a tree, at twentypaces.

  Mayhew figured that they would be able to reach the spot he had pickedout for a stand, if nothing happened to upset his plans. Once there,if they poured a deadly volley in among their pursuers, and followedthat up with a second from their small arms, the Indians might becomedemoralized.

  It might have worked as he hoped, but the chances were that the Indianswould have immediately dodged, and in this way escaped the full effectof the bombardment. Then, when the firearms were empty, they would pushtheir advantage, and numbers must surely tell.

  The yells were still rising discordantly behind them, when Dick beganto notice a decided change to their intonation. What had before seemedonly an outbreak of savage rage now had turned to wonder, and evendeadly fear.

  "BEFORE THEM THEY SAW A MIGHTY COLUMN OF STEAMING WATER"]

  There was also something else that caused the boy to turn his head, inorder to cast a backward look. No sooner had he done this than Dickcame to a full stop, his loud shouts attracting the attention of histwo companions, and causing them to copy his example.

  No longer were the eager Indian braves chasing madly after theirintended quarry; on the contrary, each and every warrior seemed benton running like mad in the opposite direction, as though pursued by alegion of evil spirits.

  To the whites there was no mystery in regard to the fright of theignorant and superstitious Blackfoot braves, for before them they sawa mighty column of steaming water gushing fully a hundred feet up intothe air, to descend in an imposing flood. As if an unseen hand haddirected it, the giant geyser had spouted just in time to come betweenthe hostile Indians and their intended victims!