CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.
AMONG THE HORNETS.
It had been a day of severe exertion mentally and bodily, during whichthe boy's nature had done its best; but the time came at last when itcould do no more, and he rode on at that steady walk, sleepingprofoundly, so deeply that he did not know when the mustang suddenlystopped short as if in doubt, and stood with ears pointed forwardsniffing at the stones beneath its hoofs, wrested them to the right andagain to the left, as if there was some taint in the air. Then thedoubt increased, and it bore to the right, stopped, bore to the leftagain, sniffed more loudly, lowered its head and sniffed again, uttereda low sigh, and resumed its steady walk, on and on, for how long Chrisnever knew, but hours had passed and he was back again in the squarehole which Griggs termed a trap, listening to what he said about thestones which covered the bottom while he made the soft glow of thelanthorn play before his eyes.
Then all at once the dream gave place to the real, and Chris washalf-conscious.
It took some moments before he realised that he was gripping a saddlewith stiffening knees and riding forward, and he couldn't tell why. Atlast, though, a mist seemed to fade away from his thinking powers, andhe knew what it all meant. He was riding, and he had been to sleep.
But why? What for?
The answer to those questions came in due course, and he sighed withweariness.
"Oh dear," he muttered, "I wonder how far it is now. Nearly as far asbefore," he thought, for he couldn't have been asleep more than aminute.
Then for another minute he was confused upon looking at the soft faintglow of the lanthorn held by Griggs in the trap.
"What nonsense!" he said peevishly. "How muddled my head is. Butthat's a light over there. Why!--I say!--Oh!"
His whole feelings changed as he uttered those interjections, and thetones of his voice were as if the words were positive, comparative, andsuperlative.
"We must be close to the valley," he thought. "The Indians can't havecome, and father has had a camp-fire kept up as a guide for me, and I'llbe bound to say there'll be something cooking, because he'll think ofhow hungry I shall be.
"There's a good old dad," he said to himself, beginning to feel brightand happy now, and as invigorated as if he had partaken of refreshment.
"Well, I am glad, and I am hungry, and I'll say so too. I don't care ifold Ned sneers when I say I am, and tells me that I'm worse than he is.Oh, hooray! You good old mustang! You're the best pony that everlived, and I love you as much as a fellow can love a nag. Just think ofyou bringing me straight back all through that black gulch--me asleeptoo! There, old chap," he continued, patting the little animal's neck,"I won't forget your mash. You shall have it before I eat a morsel. Iwouldn't take a hundred pounds for you if any one offered it; but nobodywill, and I don't want it if he did.
"Yes," he continued, as the pony paced steadily on, "they've got a goodfire, and it must be very near now. _Sniff, sniff_. Why, it's meatroasting. My! It does smell good! Shall I _coo-ee_ and let them knowI'm so close? No, I'll ride right up into the light and surprise them.Father will be wide awake watching for me, and old Ned'll be snoring, Iknow. He might have sat up too. I should have done so for him, becauseI should have felt uneasy about what had happened. _Sniff! Sniff_! Iwonder what they've got! It smells like mutton. How did they manage toget it? Not one of those mountain-sheep?"
A shrill low whinny from right ahead where the fire was burning brightlynow and casting shadows from the trees and bushes, and also bringinginto sight a tall figure seated as it were in the air, till Chrisrecognised the fact that it was a mounted man.
"Father waiting to ride out and meet me," thought Chris, as a thrill ranthrough him, caused by the answering whinny of his mustang.
The next moment, as the boy was about to urge it forward right into thelight, there was a hoarse yell, more shadows appeared in the brightglow, and Chris stopped to seize his neglected rein, and drag his pony'shead round, urging it with hand and voice to bound away along thereturning track, for in the bright light of the fire the boy had fullyawakened to the fact that he had been riding straight for an Indianencampment, right in amongst the enemies he had been trying so hard toavoid.
The Peril Finders Page 39
