The Peril Finders

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.

  COUNCILS OF WAR.

  Chris awoke next morning to find his father standing over him.

  "Well, my boy; better?"

  Chris started up, uttered a squeak and screwed up his face with a laugh,and fell back.

  "How's my pony, father?"

  "What was the matter?" said the doctor anxiously. "A pain anywhereinside?"

  "No, father, only I seem to hurt all over, I'm so sore. But how's mypony?"

  "Let the pony wait, boy. I want to be certain that you have no serioushurt. Wait a minute. Let me try."

  The doctor began his examination, and question after question came."Does that hurt?--Does this?--Now then, do you feel anything when Ipress here--or there--or there?"

  "Yes--yes--yes!" cried the boy petulantly, as he winced and started andcried "Oh!" and "Ah!" and "I say, father!" and "Oh, please don't!"

  "I must make sure, my boy."

  "But I'm sure, father; won't that do?" cried the boy, in a tone ofremonstrance. "Of course all that hurts me; you pulled and pinched meabout so. I was as sore as sore all over before you began, and now I'mever so much worse."

  "No, you're not, boy. You're all right. There's nothing broken.You're bruised and strained, but that's all. You'll soon come right.Sleep well?"

  "Part of the time, father. The rest was all waste, and I lay therefeeling as if I ought to be keeping the watch, and thinking that someone else ought to be sleeping who could."

  "But you were sleeping soundly when I came."

  "Of course, father. I wanted to make up for lost time."

  "And you feel now as if you can't touch food?"

  Chris stared.

  "Are you saying that as a joke, father?"

  "Certainly not. You feel as if you had no appetite?"

  "That I don't, father. I feel as if I could eat anything."

  "Nothing the matter at all but stiff. That will soon pass off."

  "Then you're not going to mix up anything horrid for me, father?"

  "Nothing worse than tea or coffee; and you may have damper and bacon totake afterwards," said the doctor, laughing. "Have a good wash and rubout in the sunshine before breakfast. Then eat a good meal and lieabout all day again in the sunshine."

  "What for, father?"

  "To give nature time to get your bruises right."

  "But you won't tell me how my pony is--and he's worse than I am. Don'tsay he's tired, father?" cried the boy piteously, for the doctor's facelooked very serious.

  "Certainly not. Poor beast, he's far more stiff and sore than you are,besides having all those bad wounds."

  "But they're getting better?" cried Chris anxiously.

  "They're no worse, my boy," replied the doctor, "but they have had notime to get better. I have stopped them from getting into a badcondition, and the poor thing is limping about grazing as if nothingmuch was the matter. Are you satisfied?"

  "Oh yes," cried Chris eagerly, as he rose and began to try himself indifferent attitudes. "It has done me good to hear it. I--I don't thinkI'm quite so stiff this morning."

  "That's right."

  "Are we going on to-day?"

  "On? No. We're prisoners; and besides, we couldn't start with you andyour pony in hospital."

  "What about the Indians?"

  "We haven't seen a sign of them. They're either laying some trap forus, or they have been regularly sickened and have stolen away in thenight."

  "Are you going to see?"

  "Perhaps," said the doctor; "but I'm more disposed to keep a quietlookout, and rest. We're quite safe here, and provisions are moreplentiful than I thought for. Griggs has found the spoor of some bigbuck and his young does. They have straggled into the valley during thenight."

  "That's good news, father."

  "For the larder: yes. What do you say to taking up land here and makinga fresh start in life?"

  "Wouldn't do, father," said the boy, shaking his head. "Too far awayfrom everybody."

  "Yes, it would be the life of a hermit. Ready to come out?"

  "Yes, I'm going out to the water-bucket, as you advised."

  "That's right; go. It will give you an appetite for your breakfast."

  It was Ned's turn to keep watch from the observatory, as they termed alittle shelter, roughly-made on the top terrace; but Chris would havetaken his place had not his father interposed.

  "But it seems so hard for him to go up there while we're having a goodmeal down here," said Chris wistfully.

  "He shall be looked after," said the doctor, "and I don't want you to domuch climbing about yet. You must rest."

  Chris was silent, and took an opportunity to have a word or two with Nedbefore he started to climb up the narrow ways.

  "That was very good of you, old chap," whispered Ned, gripping hiscomrade by the left arm, with the result that Chris groaned and groundhis teeth.

  "Oh, you brute!" he said sharply.

  "Chris!--I am sorry."

  "What's the good of being sorry? That's the sorest place I've got."

  "I didn't know, old chap."

  "I did; and I do now," replied Chris, rubbing the spot softly. "Nevermind."

  "But I do mind. I ought to have thought. Just too when you'd offeredto do my work for me so that I could stop down to breakfast."

  "Don't say any more about it," said Chris, with a grin of pain in hisface dying out before a rather malicious smile. "They won't let me helpyou one way, so I will in another. I'm precious hungry, and I won't letyour breakfast grow cold."

  "Oh, thank you, old chap. That's very good of you, for I'm precioushungry too."

  "I thought you were," continued Chris, looking quite solemn now. "I'lleat your lot for you."

  For a few moments Ned's face was a study. It was so full of dismay.Then there was a look of doubt, and directly after he had read thetruth.

  "Get out!" he cried, and his hand was raised to give his comrade a heavyslap on the back; but Chris cried "Murder!" and shrank away.

  "Oh, I forgot again," cried Ned hurriedly.

  "You'd better be off up now, my boy," said Bourne. "Don't forget theglass."

  "No, father. All right," cried the boy, and exchanging glances withChris and following up his own with a clench of the fist, he took thebinocular and hurried up to the lookout, while the rest appliedthemselves to the needed meal, but half-expecting to be alarmed, andimpressed always by the expectation of attack, every one's weapons beingkept ready to hand.

  Chris ate, as his father said laughingly, like an impostor, a remarkwhich Griggs, who did not join them till the meal had been going on forsome minutes, readily endorsed.

  Chris laughed, and the remarks did not spoil his appetite; but histhoughts were busy all through, and he looked anxiously for thetermination of the meal, and when all was over he turned uneasily toGriggs.

  "I say," he whispered, "oughtn't some one to go and relieve Ned?"

  "What for?" was the uncompromising response.

  "What for? Why, because he must be starving."

  "Poor fellow! He must have an appetite then," said Griggs, laughing."Did you see what I took up to him?"

  "Oh," cried Chris remorsefully. "What a shame! Here was I thinkingthat every one had been selfish to the poor fellow, while all thetime--"

  "We had all played quite fair--you most of all. Here, how are all theaches and pains now?"

  "Getting better. I have no right to make so much fuss about them andplay at being in hospital."

  "You're not, lad. You're only doing what the doctor ordered. A fellowcan't fall nearly a mile perpendicular and slantingdicular without beinga good deal shaken."

  "How far?" said Chris, laughing.

  "Well, say half-a-mile."

  "What nonsense!"

  "Say quarter of a mile then," cried Griggs sharply.

  "Divided by what?"

  "You are hard to please. I didn't measure the distance; but I will assoon as we've got rid
of these precious redskins."

  "Don't," said Chris. "I didn't fall far, and it was most of it slidingdown."

  "Turn round," cried the American, "and set your eyes at the very bottomof the cliff, and then run them up to the sharp edge where we saw youhaving that battle with your poor mustang before you went over, and thentell me again that you didn't fall far."

  "Don't want to," said Chris, who looked all the same, and felt a littleshiver as of something cold running down his back. "There, I'm off."

  "Where are you going? The doctor said you were to rest."

  "That's what I'm going to do," said Chris, "but I must go and see how mypony is."

  "Ah, well, I suppose that won't hurt you. I'll go up and have a chatwith Ned, and see if I can mark down any of the enemy."

  They parted, and Chris walked over the rugged stones and down the slopestill he was at the bottom of the valley, with his feet brushing asidethe long rich grass in which the mules were standing knee-deep, andwhich they neglected for the fresh green branches of the shrubs whichgrew thickly here and there.

  "I forgot all about the snakes," said the boy to himself; "but therecan't be any here, or the jacks wouldn't be so quiet."

  Quiet they were, for though he walked right through the browsing herdthey hardly turned their heads in his direction.

  It was different when he reached the half-dozen ponies, which still keptthemselves aloof as if preferring their own more aristocratic company.They were so rested and well fed that they were disposed to turnskittish, and two of them communicated their spirits to three of theothers, which joined in, tossing their heads, prancing, and making ashow of treating their visitor as one who was hiding bridle and bitbehind him, ready to entrap and change their pleasant hour's grazingthere amongst the rich succulent grass to a mouthful of hard iron withthe burden of heavy riders upon their backs.

  In fact, five of the ponies contrived to keep the advancing lad at adistance, while the sixth, which had been grazing slowly, suddenlyraised its head and stood staring at him.

  At the first glance Chris set this down to feebleness, and looked uponit as a bad sign. But he altered his mind directly after, when hewalked up to the animal's side, patting its neck and passing its softears through his hand, for the poor beast whinnied softly, and slowlyadvanced its muzzle to rest it against the boy's arm.

  "Why, I believe you're better, old chap," cried Chris, as he began toexamine the pony's wounds, seeing at once that they appeared to bedrying up, while when he moved a yard or two the animal followed him,limping, it is true, but not in a way that suggested permanent injury."Why, this is cheering," cried Chris eagerly. "I thought that you and Iwere never going to have a long gallop over the plains again, and nowyou look as if you'll be ready for me to mount in a fortnight at themost--perhaps in a week, eh, old chap? There, I am glad. I say, Ishould like as soon as the Indians have gone, for you to carry me up tothe head of the valley there, and then for you to show me exactly whereit was that you fell, and--Hallo! What's that?"

  Chris looked round sharply, but could see nothing but the groups ofgrazing horses and mules.

  "It sounded as if some one had thrown a stone. Can't be Ned stalking meand up to his games, can it?--There it goes again."

  He started round to look behind him towards the terraced fortress he hadleft, but all was quiet there and no sign visible of Ned or any one toplay any trick.

  Then again something--something, he knew not what; but it was as if apebble had fallen from the sky.

  "Not going to hail, is it?" thought Chris; and then he laughed at theabsurdity of the idea, for the sky was perfectly clear.

  _Rap_!

  Another something fallen from on high, but the mystery was at an end,for he not only saw it falling but where it had struck, to stickquivering and nearly upright amongst the grass.

  An arrow, and from its slope it must have come from the unexplored sideof the valley, and been shot high in the air for it to stand so nearlyupright in the grass.

  "Indians on the other side," thought Chris, and his first thought was torun round the grazing animals and drive them towards the part where theyhad made their camp.

  He started to do this, but stopped at once, uttering a groan of misery,for in spite of his brave effort, his run proved to be a miserablehobble, and then the agony he suffered in his side forced him to stop.

  "Help! help!" he shouted hoarsely, but he felt that his cry sounded likea call to the animals amongst whom he stood, and as far as he could makeout there was no one visible to heed his waving hat.

  "I must fire my revolver," he thought, and his hand went to his belt tounbutton the leather flap of the holster; but he did not withdraw theweapon, for he knew that the report would scare the poor beasts and sendthem galloping in all directions.

  The time occupied in this was very short, but it was long enough for twomore arrows to fall very near him, one nearly upright to cut its waywith a sharp whizz amongst the grass and bury its head in the soft earthat an angle of forty-five degrees.

  Then another idea struck Chris--tardily, for he felt that he should havethought of it at first.

  Thrusting his hand into his breast, he drew forth a little chain, at theend of which was a metal whistle, and the alarm note he blew soundedpiercing and shrill.

  He did not stop there, but did what he felt was best. Hobbling to theside of his mustang and talking caressingly to it the while, he tookhold of the thick forelock and began to lead it towards where he hopedto find safety.

  The docile little animal made no opposition to being led from thepleasant pasture, but started and shivered as there came the sharp whizzof another arrow--too painful a memory to his ear--making the poor beastlimp along a little faster in obedience to his master's effort to gethim away.

  Then another arrow came terribly near them, and Chris whistled again,his spirits rising though, for the rest of the animals, taking in thefact of one of them being led away from either corn or water, began toneigh and squeal as they closed in after their leader, so that if thereproved to be time enough before the arrows took effect, Chris felt, ashe blew a long and shrill note again, that he would be able to guide theherd into safety.

  "Why are they not on the lookout?" groaned the boy, for his progress waspainfully slow; "they ought to see that something is wrong." But he wasignorant of the fact that nothing was visible from the lookout buthimself and the animals trotting about playfully as they kept prettyclose to the wounded mustang.

  An arrow again, and another, each wonderfully near, but no harm wasdone. Then another which fell with a dull thud, and was followed by awild scream which startled the herd into disorder, sending the muleshelter-skelter, kicking and plunging, all but one, which galloped awayby itself, turning its head the while to bite at an arrow which hadburied itself in its back.

  That strange scream had done what Chris's whistle failed in, drawnattention to something being wrong, while directly after a little puffof smoke darted from the upper terrace, followed by its report and thereverberation of echoes. Then another shot, and another, and no morearrows fell, though Chris in his slow progress suffered as much agony asif they had still been dropping all around.

  But now the doctor came running out, followed by Wilton, and under thecover of a few more shots the little herd was driven in, slowly enough,for the wounded mule progressed more and more slowly till it hung backclose alongside of Chris's mustang, showing that it was badly hurt.

  "Only enough to prove that the enemy are well on the watch," said thedoctor, after he had seen to the wounded mule, "and a warning to us thatwe must not relax our care."

  Griggs had by this time descended from the terrace, it having been hisrifle that had put an end to the coming of the arrows.

  "Hardly thought they could have shot so far," he said; "but after all,they didn't get an arrow much more than half-way here. Say, didn't doyou much good, Master Chris, hurrying back like that."

  "I'm afraid it's the mustang that has suffered,"
said Chris. "I didn'thurt, only it was dreadfully hard to find that I couldn't run."

  "You ought to be very thankful that you can walk, Chris," said thedoctor quietly. "It is next door to marvellous that you should haveescaped without a broken bone. But now then, Griggs, matters begin tolook serious. What is to be done?"

  "That's just what I have been thinking, sir. The enemy isn't a bitsatisfied, and the next time they begin making targets of us they may bemore fortunate."

  "What I am afraid of is that they may now get upon the high ground aboveus here."

  "And that would be awkward, sir," said the American thoughtfully. Thenafter a pause--"We've got the whip hand of them with our rifles."

  "Of course."

  "And we've shown them a little of what we can do, but not enough.There's only one thing left now."

  "And what's that?" asked the doctor, after a glance at his son.

  "Give them such a lesson that they won't stop to have any more, but makeoff into the desert."

  "That's very good advice," replied the doctor, "but how can it be donewithout risk to ourselves?"

  "Let them think we daren't stir away from here, while we wait for a fewdays to let some one get well again, and his nag too, while we have notbeen wasting time, but under the screen of hunting and shooting havebeen watching, and when once we have got to know where they camp, wemust come upon them suddenly some night, and the rifles must do therest."

  "Well, Chris, what do you think of that?" said the doctor, turning towhere the two boys sat listening.

  "Can't be done," said Chris shortly.

  "Why?"

  "How are you going to find out where they make their camp? They're inone place to-day and another to-morrow."

  "Yes, Griggs, that is the difficulty."

  "Well, I know that, sir," replied Griggs; "but can you think of a betterplan?"

  "Only that of waiting till we see them some time in the open, and thencoming out to attack them."

  "Half-a-dozen of us against a hundred," said Griggs dryly; "all mountedmen who can ride as if they were part of their horses. We could shoot agood many of them, of course, but they'd be too much for us if we killedor wounded fifty of them. For how many of us would go down in doingit?"

  "They could spare ten," said Bourne, who had just sauntered up, "whilewe couldn't spare one."

  "No, nor half one," said Griggs. "What we've got to do, gentlemen, issomething that will give them such a startler that they'll have hadenough of it; and it must be done without our getting a scratch."

  "Yes," said the doctor; "but how?"

  "That's what we've got to think out, sir. We ought to be a bit clevererthan a set of savage Indians. I vote we all make up our minds to thinkit out. We've got plenty of time, for we're all right here as to foodand shelter, and can't move for a week certain."

  "On account of Chris and the injured beasts," said the doctor. "Verywell; we must all put on our wisdom caps and puzzle it out. I'll go andhave a chat with Wilton now."

  The little meeting broke up, and Griggs went to spend his short timebefore going on duty in cleaning his rifle, while, as if attracted tothe same spot, Chris and Ned followed him to a sheltered nook near theplace where a bucket was standing ready for sending down to the runningwater and bringing up refilled.