Sunset Pass; or, Running the Gauntlet Through Apache Land

by Charles King

  CHAPTER II.

  MANUELITO'S TREACHERY.

  All this time Darkey Jim had been sleeping soundly, wrapped in hisblankets, with his feet to the fire. There was never an hour, day ornight, when this lively African could not loll at full length, insunshine or shade, and forget his cares, if cares he ever had, in lessthan three minutes. In this case, despite Sieber's warning, which he hadoverheard, he simply took note of the fact that the captain and CorporalPike were looking after things and that was enough for him. There was nouse in worrying when "Marsa Gwin" was on guard, and within an hour fromthe time he had had his substantial supper, Jim was snoring melodiously,with his head buried in his arms.

  Manuelito was thoroughly aware of this trait of his "stable-mate," elsehe had not dared to bring the captain's horse so close to the fire. Nowhis fierce, half Indian face seemed full of perplexity and dread. TheApache signal fire still glowed among the black pines away to thewestward. The captain and Corporal Pike were hurriedly coming towardshim through the stunted trees,--yet here he stood with "Gregg," allirresolute, all fearful what to do. Back towards those black pines andthe long reach of road beyond he dare not go. The Tontos held the lineof retreat. Here in camp he hardly dare remain for the keen cut in"Gregg's" side line showed plainly that the knife had been used, andleft him accused of treachery. Out of the fire light and back to thegrazing ground he must get the horse at once--but what then? Noiselesslyturning, he led Gregg, wondering, back to the glade in which the otherhorses were tethered, and quickly drove his picket pin and put him onthe half lariat. But how was he to conceal the severed side line? Off itcame, both nervous hands working rapidly, and then when he had aboutdetermined to cut off the lines of one of Jim's mules and so throwsuspicion on him, his African mate, he was aware of his captain stridingthrough the trees toward him. He could almost have run away. But thenext words re-assured him.

  "That you, Manuelito?" challenged Captain Gwynne in low, hoarse tones."All right! Take the side lines off Gregg and saddle him for me at once.I have work to do."

  The Mexican could hardly believe in his escape. For the time being, atleast, he stood safe. It would be easy enough later to "lose" thetelltale side line in the waters of the lake. Manuelito cursed his follyin having used the knife at all. Haste prompted that piece of badjudgment. He could have unbuckled them just as well. But all the same heblessed his lucky stars for this respite. In three minutes he had"Gregg" saddled and ready by the little camp-fire. There stood thecaptain and Pike in low and earnest conversation.

  "I shall only go out a short four miles," said the former, "but I mustsatisfy myself as to whether those beggars are coming this way to-night.Gregg and I have 'stalked' them many a time and the country is all flatand open for six miles back."

  "I wish the captain would stay here and let me go," pleaded Pike.

  "No! I'm never satisfied without seeing for myself. You and Manuelitowill have your arms in constant readiness, and watch for me as I comeback. There's no moon--no light--but so much the better for my purpose.Is he all ready, Manuelito? Let me glance at my little ones in theambulance before I start."

  Who can say with what love and yearning the father bent over thoselittle faces as he peered in upon them? The flickering light of thecamp-fire threw an occasional glimmer over them--just enough to enablehim to see at times the contour yet hardly to reveal the features of"his babies." He dare not kiss for fear of waking them. "God bless andguard you, darlings," was the choking prayer that fell from his lips.Then, vigorous and determined, he sprang into saddle.

  "Now, Pike," he muttered, "you've been with me in many a night bivouacand you know your orders. They never attack at night unless they knowthey have an absolutely sure thing, and they haven't--with you three.Jim, there, can fight like a tiger whenever there is need. Watch thehorses. I'll be back in an hour or there'll be reason for my staying."

  Three minutes more and they heard the rhythmic beat of "Gregg's" hoofsout on the open plateau and dying away westward, sturdy, measured,steady in the trot the captain preferred to any other gait. Pike movedout to the edge of the timber, where he could hear the last of it--a biganxiety welling up in his heart and a world of responsibility with it;but he clutched his carbine the more firmly and gave a backward glance,his face softening as his eyes fell upon the wagon where little Ned andNell lay sleeping, and darkening with menace and suspicion as he tookone swift look at Manuelito, cowering there over the fire.

  "Blast that monkey-hearted greaser!" he muttered. "I believe he wouldknife the whole party just to get the horses and slip away. I'll keep myears open to the west--but I'll have my eyes on you."

  Once out at his chosen station, Pike found himself in a position wherehe could "cover" three important objects. Here, close at his right hand,between him and the lake, the horses and mules were browsing peacefullyand as utterly undisturbed as though there were not an Apache within athousand miles. To his rear, about fifty yards, were the two wagons, thelittle camp-fire and flitting restlessly about it the slouching form ofManuelito. In front of him, close at hand, nothing but a dark level ofopen prairie; then a stretch of impenetrable blackness; then, far awaytowards the western horizon, that black, piney ridge, stretching fromnorth to south across the trail they had come along that day; and rightthere among the pines--Pike judged it to be several miles south of theroad--there still glared and flamed that red beacon that his longservice in Arizona told him could mean to the Apaches only onething--"Close in!"--and well he knew that with the coming morn all therenegades within range would be gathered along their path, and that ifthey got through Sunset Pass without a fight it would be a miracle.

  The night was still as the grave; the skies cloudless and studded withstars. One of these came shooting earthward just after he took his post,and seemed to plunge into vacancy and be lost in its own combustion overtowards Jarvis Pass behind him. This gave him opportunity to glancebackward again, and there was Manuelito still cowering over the fire.Then once more he turned to the west, watching, listening.

  Many a year had old Pike served with the standards of the cavalry. Allthrough the great civil war he had born manful, if humble part, but withhis fifth enlistment stripe on his dress coat, a round thousand dollarsof savings and a discharge that said under the head of "Character," "Abrave, reliable and trustworthy man," the old corporal had chosen to addto his savings by taking his chances with Captain Gwynne, hoping toreach Santa Fe and thence the Kansas Pacific to St. Louis, to bettermentof his pocket and to the service of one, at least, of his former troopcommanders. No coward was Pike, but he had visions of a far-away homehis coming would bless, where a loved sister's children would gatherabout his knee and hear his stories of battle and adventure, and wherehis dollars would enable him to give comforts and comfits, toys and"taffee" to her little ones. Was he not conscious that her eldest boymust be now fourteen, named for him, Martin Pike, and a young Americanall through? It must be confessed that as the ex-corporal stood there athis night post under the stars he half regretted that he had embarked onthis risky enterprise.

  "If it were anybody else now but old Gwynne," he muttered to himself,"things wouldn't be so mixed, but he never did have any horse sense andnow has run us into this scrape--and it's a bad one or I'm no judge."

  Then he glanced over his shoulder again. Manuelito was shuffling aboutthe fire apparently doing nothing. Presently the ex-corporal saw theMexican saunter up to the wagons and Pike took several strides throughthe timber watching before he said a word; yet, with the instinct of theold soldier, he brought his carbine to full cock. Somehow or other he"could not tolerate that greaser."

  MANUELITO WAS SHUFFLING ABOUT THE FIRE APPARENTLY DOINGNOTHING.]

  But the suspected greaser seemed to content himself with a cursoryexamination of the forage and baggage wagon and presently came slouchingback to the fire again. He had some scrap of harness in his hand andPike longed to know what, but it was too far from his post ofobservation. He decided to remain where he was. He must listen for thec
aptain. All the same he kept vigilant watch of Manuelito's movementsand ere long, when the fire brightened up a bit, he made out that the"greaser" was fumbling over nothing else than a side line. Now what didthat mean?

  Pike took a turn through the little herd of "stock," bending down andfeeling the side line of each horse and mule. All were secure and inperfect order. The one in Manuelito's hands, therefore, was probably"Gregg's," or an extra "pair" that he had in his wagon. There wasnothing out of the way about that after all, so Pike resumed his watchtowards the west, where still the Apache beacon was burning.

  It must have been half after ten o'clock. Manuelito had slunk down bythe fire, and not a sound was to be heard except Jim's musical snore,and a little cropping noise among the horses. Yet Pike's quick earcaught, far out on the prairie to the west, the sound of hoofs comingtowards him.

  "When those Apaches named a horse 'click-click' they must have struckone that interfered," he muttered. "Now that's old Gregg coming in, I'llbet my boots, and there's not a click about his tread. 'Course theremight be on rock, instead of this soft earth. The captain's back soonerthan I supposed he'd come. What's up?"

  Quickly, crouchingly, he hurried forward some few rods, then knelt sothat he might see the coming horseman against the sky. Then challengedsharp and low:

  "Who comes there!"

  "Captain Gwynne," was the quick answer.

  "That you, Pike? By jove, man! I've come back in a hurry. Are the horsesall right? I want to push right on to the Pass to-night."

  "Horses all right, captain. What's the matter back there?"

  "I didn't venture too far, but I went far enough to learn by my nightglass and my ears that those scoundrels were having a war-dance. Now thechances are they'll keep it up all night until they gather in all therenegades in the neighborhood. Then come after us. This is no place tomake a fight. It's all open here. But the road is good all the way toSunset, and once there I know a nook among the rocks where we can stowour whole outfit--where there are 'tanks' of fresh water in abundanceand where we can stand them off until the cavalry get out from Verde.Sieber said he'd have them humming on our trail at once. Tanner andCanker and Lieutenant Ray are there with their troops and you can bethigh we won't have long to wait. It's the one thing to do. Rouse up Jimand Manuelito while I give 'Gregg' a rest. Poor old boy," he said, as henoted his favorite's heaving flanks. "He has had a hard run for it andmore than his share of work this day."

  In ten minutes Black Jim, roused by vigorous kicks, was silently butbriskly hitching in his team, Manuelito silently but suddenly bucklingthe harness about his mules. Irish Kate, aroused by the clatter, hadpoked her head from underneath the canvas to inquire what was thematter, and, at a few words from the captain, had shrunk in again,stricken with fear, but obeying implicitly.

  "Let the children sleep as long as possible, Kate," were Gwynne'sorders. "The jolting will wake them too soon, I fear, but we've got topush ahead to Sunset Pass at once. There are Indians ten miles behindus."

  A few minutes more and all was ready for flight.

  "Now, Pike, ride ahead and keep sharp lookout for the road. I'll jump uphere beside Jim and drive, keeping right on your trail. Old 'Gregg' willtow along behind the wagon. He is too tired to carry any one else thisday--and you--Manuelito, hark ye, keep right behind 'Gregg.' Don't fallback ten yards. I want you right here with us, and if anything goeswrong with your team, or you cannot keep up, shout and we'll wait foryou. Now, then, Pike, forward!"

  An hour later in its prescribed order this little convoy had wound itsway through Jarvis Pass and was trotting rapidly over the hard butsmooth roadway towards the high Sunset range. The little ones had beenaroused by the swaying and jolting and were sitting up now--silent andfull of nameless fears, yet striving to be brave and soldierly when papathrew back some cheery word to them over his shoulders. Never once didhe relax his grasp on the reins or his keen watch for Pike's dim,shadowy form piloting them along the winding trail. Little Ned had gothis "Ballard" and wanted to load, but his father laughed him out of theidea.

  "The Tontos were ten miles behind us, Ned, my boy, when we left SnowLake, and are farther away now. These mountain Apaches in northernArizona have no horses, you know, and have to travel afoot. Not a rodwill they journey at night if they can help themselves--the lazybeggars!"

  And so the poor father, realizing at last the fruits of his obstinacy,strove to reassure his children and his dependants. Little Nell was tooyoung to fully appreciate their peril, and soon fell asleep with hercurly head pillowed on Kate's broad lap. Ned, too, valiant little man,soon succumbed and, still grasping his Ballard, fell sound asleep. Indarkness and silence the little convoy sped swiftly along, and at last,far in the "wee sma' hours," Pike hailed:

  "Here we are, right in the Pass, captain! Now can you find that pointwhere we turn off the road to get into the rock corral?"

  "Take the lines, Jim; I'll jump out and prospect. I used to know it wellenough."

  Down the road the captain went stumbling afoot. Everything was rock,bowlder and darkness now. The early morning wind was sighing through thepines up the mountain side at the south. All else was silence.

  Presently they heard him hail:

  "Come on! Here we are!"

  Jim touched up his wearied team and soon, under the captain's guidance,was bumping up a little side trail. A hundred yards off the road theyhalted and Gwynne called back into the darkness:

  "How's Manuelito getting on, Pike?"

  No answer.

  The captain stepped back a few yards and listened. Not a sound of hoofor wheel.

  "Pike!" he called. "Where are you?"

  No answer at all.

  "Quick, Jim, give me the lantern," he called, and in a moment theglimmering light went bounding down the rocky trail, back to the road.

  And there the two soldiers met--Pike trotting up rapidly from the west,the captain swinging his lantern in the Pass.

  "Where's Manuelito?" was the fierce demand.

  "WHERE'S MANUELITO?"]

  "Gone, sir. Gone and taken the mules with him. The wagon's back therefour hundred yards up the road."

  "My God! Pike. Give me your horse quick. You stay and guard my babies."