The Edward S. Ellis Megapack

by Edward S. Ellis

  The first day among the hills was spent like the first one on shore—without food, although they had so gormandized themselves on the preceding evening that they were able to stand this privation much better.

  On the second morning among the hills, just as they had risen and resumed their journey, Terror gave notice of something unusual in his characteristic manner—by halting and uttering a low whine. At that moment they were making their way around a huge mass of rocks, in a path that seemed to have been worn by the feet of wild animals. Tim paused, cocked his rifle and held it ready for instant use, while the boys looked around for some covert into which to retreat, if danger threatened.

  While they stood in anxious suspense, an animal about the size of Terror walked leisurely into view, and catching sight of the strangers raised its head with a look of alarm, then uttered a shrill baa-aa after the manner of affrighted sheep, and turned to flee. But he was too valuable a prize to be let run away in this manner, and ere he could turn round, or the Newfoundland could reach him, Tim had sent a bullet through his head that tumbled him over and over as if he had been hit by a cannon-ball.

  Hurrying up to him, they found they had been fortunate enough to secure a good large mountain sheep, a species of animal that run wild in California, and at certain seasons of the year are in prime condition. This was found only tolerable, but he was fully appreciated by our friends. Tim O’Rooney had managed to conceal a second knife about his person when bargaining with the Indian—one made on the liberal ideas that was displayed in the construction of his watch, and far more useful than the ornamental trifles that the boys carried.

  With the help of this and the anatomical knowledge he possessed, he was not long in dressing the sheep, and everything was made ready for cooking him. The sticks were placed together, the choice steaks were suspended on cross pieces, and the leaves heaped up, only awaiting ignition.

  “I declare!” exclaimed Howard, “how are we going to kindle it?”

  Every face looked blank, for the thought had never entered their minds until that moment.

  “Haven’t yees a match about you?” he asked, turning to the boys.

  Naturally enough the two searched every pocket, and having finished searched them over again, even turning them wrong side out, and then turning them in and turning them wrong side out again; but all in vain, there was not a lucifer in the party.

  “Too bad!” exclaimed Elwood, “we are all as hungry as we can be, and we shall have to remain so for the want of fire.”

  “If we wait a while we’ll not need the match.”

  “Why not?”

  “It isn’t very hard to git hungry enough to ate the same without waiting for the benefit of cooking.”

  “I can’t do that,” added Elwood, with an expression of disgust.

  “Nor can I,” added Howard.

  “I’ve done it, and found it tasted good,” said Tim, “and so would yez—but howld on! One of yez whack me over the head!”

  “For what?” they demanded in amazement.

  “For being an owld fool, and be the same towken it’s yourselves that is the same.”

  “We do not understand you,” they said, in some perplexity.

  “Yez are talking about fire when we has it here at hand.”

  They looked inquiringly around, but did not understand the allusion until he began loading the gun, when a new light broke upon them, and they smiled knowingly at each other.

  Tim put in a good wadding composed of dry leaves, and placing the muzzle of his gun among the leaves that they had gathered for ignition, he discharged it. The intense flame of fire that streamed forth for an instant communicated itself to the kindlings, and this being quickly and vigorously blown by all three, almost immediately spread into a blaze, the wood gathered heat speedily, and in a few minutes the juicy steaks of the mountain sheep were steaming and ready for the voracious mouths of the four gathered around.

  CHAPTER XIII

  Another Bargain

  Our friends were prudent enough to cook every available portion of the mountain sheep, and to preserve what remained for future contingencies. The climate was so warm that they could not hope to keep it more than a day or two; and, as it was, they took the wise course of placing as much of it within their stomachs as they could conveniently carry. The good-tempered red Newfoundland seemed to be growing corpulent on this species of living, protracted hunger alternating with an over supply of food.

  They saw no more wild animals during the day, but just as they were entering the Salinas Valley Elwood discovered something lying in the path before them which at first he believed to be an Indian, either asleep or dead; but Terror instantly ran up, and seizing it in his teeth laid it at his feet, and discovered a beautiful Indian blanket.

  “Strange!” exclaimed the boy, holding it up before him. “This shows that we are not the first persons who have traversed this section.”

  “I wonder that we do not see more savages.”

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” said Elwood, turning the blanket over and examining its texture and designs. It was indeed handsome and very valuable, resembling much the famous blankets made by the Apache Indians. It was fully a half-inch in thickness, so compactly knit together as to be water-proof. Its border and the design of the figures were a miracle of skill in color and combination. Every hue of the rainbow seemed reproduced in the most pleasing combinations. The center-piece was a figure of the sun which, with the rays radiating from it, was of a most intense yellow, while around the border were pictured all the fruits that any one has ever heard as being indigenous to California.

  “That must be very valuable,” said Howard.

  “It is so heavy it tires my arms to hold it.”

  “That same thing would bring yez five hundred dollars, any day, in San Francisco,” added Tim O’Rooney. “It’ll pay yez to carry it there.”

  “It is just the thing to wrap around us when we lie down to sleep.”

  “Yis, if ye wraps up in that yez’ll wake up and find yersilves roasted to dith. Yez might as well crawl into an oven and bake yersilves and be done with it.”

  “We can then spread it on the ground, and protect ourselves from the moisture!” said Howard, who was beginning to appreciate the value of the article.

  “I’ve saan them things before,” added Tim O’Rooney. “The Apaches and Mohaws in New Mexico make ’em. It has tuk a couple of squaws the bist part of a year to do the same.”

  “But where is the owner? An Indian could not lose such a thing without knowing it. Why, it is a load to carry, and I should expect to lose my coat as soon as to part with this.”

  Of course there could be no explanation of the cause of the blanket being found where it was. It was plain that no Indian could have parted with it unknowingly, and its high value made it still more puzzling that it should have been left in such a place. It might be that the owner—some fragile Indian girl—had wearied with carrying it, and had thrown it down for a warrior friend of hers to pick up and take to its destination for her.

  This conjecture, made by Tim O’Rooney himself, raised a serious question as to whether they had a right to carry the blanket away when there was good reason to doubt its being lost or abandoned.

  “If a year’s work has been lavished upon it,” said Elwood, “it cannot be possible that it has no owner.”

  “I think Tim is right; he or she expects to return or send and get it.”

  “But it is singular that if such is the case it should be left here, when it could have been easily hid in these bushes.”

  “That only proves that there are no people about—no white ones at least. If the owner had any fear of this place being visited by Christians, he would have taken pains to hide his property; but as he was sure there were none but savages and heathen, he was certain his blanket was safe.”

  Howard Lawrence, jesting though he was, spoke the truth, and deeply ashamed are we to confess it.

  The question received an u
nexpected and unmistakable solution. While they were still conversing, they descried a gaudily dressed, rather handsome-looking squaw tripping lightly behind them. Her head was bent, and she did not discover them until the growl of the dog caused her to raise her head. She was then within a dozen yards of Howard, he being in the rear and holding the blanket in his hand. She looked at them with an alarmed expression in her strange dark eyes, and seemed to be too much frightened to think of fleeing.

  Howard signified his friendship by walking quietly toward her and holding out the blanket as if inviting her to take it. She readily comprehended the meaning of his advance, and when the article was within reach she took it.

  “Now make a bargain if you can,” called out Elwood.

  Howard produced the gold watch—a small hunting-case—and offered it to the young woman. She examined it with childish curiosity, but in a manner that showed that it was not the first time she had looked upon such an article. She held it a for moments, and then with a pleased smile passed the blanket to him, bowed gracefully, wheeled quickly, and slipped away charmingly.

  “Hurra!” fairly shouted Elwood, “you are as good as Tim at making a bargain.”

  “She must live somewhere about here, and no doubt will tell how she got the watch, and that may set some of her friends on our track.”

  “Let ’em come,” said Tim. “I’ve a gun that I larned how to shoot, and that blanket we can wrap around us, and I don’t believe you could shoot a bullet through it by raison of its thickness.”

  The party resumed their journey, quite jubilant over the rifle and blanket. They still needed but one thing, or rather two things, guns for the boys. Terror was such a sharp and faithful sentinel they would have felt almost safe with these additional fire-arms. Howard and Elwood were quite confident that they could shoot with remarkable precision, although, neither had ever aimed or discharged a gun; but in this respect they were not so very different from other boys.

  At noon they made a hearty meal upon a portion of what still remained of the mountain sheep, and then stretched themselves out for an hour’s rest. Tim O’Rooney was plentifully supplied with tobacco, and perhaps could not have felt more comfortable or satisfied with his situation. He lolled on the grass, and wondered whether Mr. Lawrence was anxious for him to get home or not, finally reaching the conclusion that he was rather indifferent upon the subject himself. The greatest distress of Howard and Elwood was the pain that their parents would feel regarding them; but they hoped to reach home without great delay, when they would quickly turn their weeping into joy.

  The two could not grow weary of admiring their beautiful blanket. It was a wonderful affair indeed, and doubtless contained within it enough material to supply a “shoddy” contractor with the basis for a thousand army blankets. The boys would have willingly given both their watches for it and considered themselves greatly the gainers. They looked upon it as their joint property.

  “I do believe it is rifle-proof,” said Howard. “The fine threads of which it is composed are woven so compactly that you can hardly distinguish them.”

  “I should be rather fearful of risking a rifle-shot from any one if that were all that protected me.”

  “We can easily test it. Let’s hung it up and shoot a bullet at it.”

  “No, that would be too bad. The ball might go through, and then it would be spoiled in its looks. Now it seems really perfect—”

  “I say, me boys—”

  Tim’s utterance was checked by the discharge of a rifle and the near whistle of the bullet. He started up and glanced around him.

  “Injuns, or me name isn’t Tim O’Rooney, from Tipperary, Ireland, the gem of the say!”

  CHAPTER XIV

  A Strange Occurrence

  On a slight eminence, about an eighth of a mile south of them, stood the solitary Indian who had fired the alarming shot, he was in open view, as though he had no fears of the results of his challenge, and appeared to be surveying the white people with an air of curiosity that they should presume to encroach upon his hunting-grounds.

  “If yez manes that, there’s two of us, as me brother Pat towld the judge when he called him a good-for-nothing dog.”

  With which exclamation Tim O’Rooney sighted his rifle at the aborigine, and taking a tedious, uncomfortable aim, pulled the trigger, and then lowered his piece and stared at his target to watch the result. The Indian stood as motionless as a statue, and finally the Irishman drew a deep sigh.

  “I wonder whether the bullet has reached him yet?”

  “Reached him!” laughed Howard. “I saw it clip off a piece of rock fully forty feet from him.”

  “Worrah, worrah! but I’ve ate so much dinner I can’t howld the gun stiddy.”

  “I saw it vibrate—”

  “Look out! he’s going to shoot again!” called Elwood, as he and Howard dropped on their faces. “Get down, Tim, or he’ll hit you. He’s a better marksman than you are.”

  “Who cares—Heaven! save me!”

  The second discharge sent the bullet within a few inches of the Irishman’s face, and somewhat alarmed him.

  “Load quick!” admonished Howard, “and shelter yourself, or you are a dead man.”

  The Irishman obeyed this, and had his gun reloaded in a few moments.

  “Now let me try my hand,” said Elwood; “you can never hit him.”

  “Be all manes, if yez wish it.”

  “The piece is too heavy for me to shoot off-hand and I’ll rest it on my knee.”

  The boy took the gun, and placing the barrel on his knee, drew back the hammer, when presto! the savage whisked out of sight like magic. The noble aborigine had come to the conclusion that discretion was the better part of valor.

  “Where is he?” asked the bewildered boy, rising to his feet and looking around him.

  “He is gone,” replied Howard.

  “I admire his sense; he doesn’t care about being shot just yet.”

  Howard laughed.

  “You have a good opinion of your marksmanship, Elwood, and he seems to fear you more than Tim.”

  “But he didn’t give me time to practice on ’im,” said the latter. “If he had stood there an hour or two I’d hit him sure.”

  “Yes, and he would have picked you off at the next fire. He’s a good marksman at any rate.”

  They kept their position for some time, but saw nothing more of the Indian.

  “He has left,” said Elwood, “and will give us a wide berth after this.”

  “It was rather curious that he should expose himself in that manner.”

  “Perfectly natural,” replied Elwood. “He knew there was no danger until I took the gun; then he thought it best for him to clear out.”

  “He may turn up again when we least expect it.”

  “Do yees understand the maning of that?”

  “Not precisely; do you?”

  “He’s a lover of the fair female that ye gave the watch to for the blanket, and he had been watchin’ us till he sane me, and then he got so jailous of me that he has tried to put me out of the way.”

  The boys laughed at this explanation, which Tim gave with every appearance of earnestness, and were rather doubtful about believing it.

  There was some fear expressed that this Indian might send them a bullet from some covert, when he could make his aim sure and shelter himself from all danger of a return fire; although as regards that the specimen he had been given of the skill of the whites should have convinced him that there was no need of his being particularly alarmed on this point.

  Our friends were sufficiently rested, and the associations of the place were such that they resumed their journey at once toward the Salinas river. They had gone but a short distance when Howard exclaimed:

  “Halloo! yonder goes that Indian!”

  He pointed in the direction of the river fully a mile away, and looking there they saw very near the center of the stream a small Indian canoe, propelled by a single occupant. The
distance was so great that they could decide nothing regarding his dress and appearance, and for a time it was doubtful whether there were one or two in the boat. They were sure, however, that it was the same personage that had so startled them, and that he was returning to his home.

  “That looks as though he did not belong to these parts,” said Elwood, “and seems to throw doubt on his being the young squaw’s lover.”

  “And it’s a qua’r lover the same would be if he wouldn’t go five hundred miles for the smile of his beloved. Begorrah! but it was meself that used to walk five miles and back agin ivery Sunday night in Tipperary to see Bridget Ann Mulloney, and then lost her after all when I’d spent almost half a pound on her.”

  “There’s another thing I’d like to buy, beside our rifles,” said Elwood.

  “What is that?”

  “A canoe. See how smoothly the savage floats down the river. The current is quite rapid, and it would take very little labor for us to make much better headway than we now do.’”

  “But we do not know how to paddle one of those frail concerns.”

  “We could learn soon enough.”

  “We may find one of them along the shore, as there seem to be plenty of Indians hereabouts, and I suppose every one of them is the proprietor of one of these establishments.”

  “It isn’t likely if yees finds one ye’ll find the owner,” said Tim, “and I s’pose your conscience wouldn’t let you take it unless you made a fair bargain with the owner.”

  “I don’t know,” laughed Howard, “but what under the circumstances we could persuade ourselves to take it.”

  In the course of a few hours they found themselves in the vicinity of the Salinas River, and turned to the left so as to follow its windings as nearly as possible to the mouth, where they hoped to secure safer and speedier transportation to their homes.

  At night when they encamped the soft murmur of the river was in their ears, and the cool, dry wind fanned them quietly as they sat down near a cluster of thick cottonwood to smoke their pipe, chat and prepare for the night’s rest. They made a good meal from their mountain sheep, and gorging Terror, threw the rest away as they deemed it hardly fit for further use.