Sunset Pass; or, Running the Gauntlet Through Apache Land

by Charles King

  CHAPTER III.

  ON THE ALERT.

  Obedient to the captain's order, Pike had dismounted and given him thehorse, but it was with a sense of almost sickening dread that he saw himride away into darkness.

  "Take care of the babies," indeed! The old trooper would shed hisheart's blood in their defence, but what would that avail against a gangof howling Apaches? It could only defer the moment of their capture andthen--what would be the fate of those poor little ones and of honest oldKate? Jim, of course, would do his best, but there remained now only thetwo men to defend the captain's children and their nurse against a swarmof bloodthirsty Tontos who were surely on their trail. There was notelling at what moment their hideous war-cry might wake the echoes ofthe lonely Pass.

  With all his loyalty, Pike was almost ready to blame his employer andold commander for riding off in pursuit of the Mexican. It was so darkthat no trail could be seen. He could not know in which directionManuelito had fled. It was indeed a blind chase, and yet the captain hadtrotted confidently back past the deserted wagon as though he reallybelieved he could speedily overtake and recapture the stolen mules. Pikethought that the captain should stay with his children and let him go inpursuit or rather search, but every one who knew Gwynne knew howself-confident he was and how much higher he held his own opinion thanthat of anybody else. "It is his confounded bull-headedness that has gotus into this scrape," thought poor Pike, for the twentieth time, but thesoldier in him came to the fore and demanded action--action.

  Knowing the habits of the Apaches it was his hope that they would notfollow in pursuit until broad daylight and that it would be noon beforethey could reach the Pass. By that time, with or without the mules,Captain Gwynne would certainly be back. Meanwhile his first duty seemedto be to get the provisions from the wagon up to the little fastnessamong the great bowlders where the children, guarded by poor, tremblingbut devoted Kate, were now placidly sleeping--worn out with the fatigueof their jolting ride from Snow Lake. She kept Black Jim with a loadedrifle close by the side of the family wagon and prevented his fallingasleep at his post, in genuine darkey fashion, by insisting on histalking with her in low tones. She kept fretting and worrying about theabsence of the captain and the non-arrival of Manuelito with his wagon.She asked Jim a hundred questions as to the cause of the delay, but hecould give no explanation. It was with joy inexpressible, therefore,that she heard Pike's well-known voice hailing them in cheery tones. Hewanted Jim.

  HIS FIRST DUTY SEEMED TO BE TO GET THE PROVISIONS FROMTHE WAGON.]

  "Where's the captain and the wagon?" demanded Kate in loud whisper.

  "Up the road a piece," answered Pike in the most off-hand wayimaginable. "We'll have it here presently but Jim'll have to help. We'velost a linch-pin in the dark. Come along, Jim."

  "Shure you're not going to take Jim away and leave me alone with thepoor children. Oh, corporal, for the love of the blessed saints don't dothat!"

  "Sho! Kate. We won't be any distance away and there ain't an Indianwithin ten miles. They wouldn't dare come prowling around at night.Here, you take Jim's gun and blow the top of the head off the firstApache that shows up. We'll be back in five minutes. How are thekids--sleeping?"

  "Sleeping soundly, God be praised, and never draming of the awful perilwe're in."

  "Peril be blowed!" answered Pike stoutly. "We're safer here than wecould be anywhere east of the Verde and as soon as it's good and lightand the horses are rested, we'll be off for the Colorado Chiquito andleave the Tontos miles behind. Take things easy, old girl, and don'tworry. Come along, Jim."

  And so away they went through the inky darkness, plunging along therocky and winding path by which they had brought the ambulance up thesteep. Not until they had got down into the road itself did Pike givehis negro comrade an idea of what had happened. Then, speaking low andseizing the other's arm, he began:

  "Jim, old boy, we've got to pull together to-night. There's nothing thematter with the wagon--that's all right, but that whelp Manuelito hasrun off with the mules and the captain's put out after him. It'll bedaylight soon and he'll get the son of a gun--sure, and then hurry backto join us; but the wagon lies just where I think you and I can start itdown the road and fetch it nearer camp. Then we can rake out whatprovisions we want in case we have to stand a siege. See?"

  "JIM, OLD BOY, WE'VE GOT TO PULL TOGETHER TO-NIGHT."]

  Black Jim's eyes nearly popped from their sockets. He had been on scoutswith his master, and bragged prodigiously around garrison about how theyfought Tontos down along the Black Mesa and in the infested "Basin."

  To hear Jim talk one would fancy he had killed at least half a dozenIndians in hand to hand encounters. Indeed he had behaved withself-possession and a very fair degree of coolness in the two affairswhich Gwynne's troop had had when Jim happened to be along. But this wasdifferent. Then they had forty or fifty veteran soldiers. Here--only oldPike and himself were left to defend the position--and no one might sayhow many Apaches might come along. Besides it was still dark (andNapoleon said all men were cowards in the dark), though far in the easta grayish pallor was creeping up from the horizon. Who could blame poorJim if his knees shook and his teeth chattered a little, but he wentmanfully along by Pike's side and soon they reached the abandoned wagon.

  As luck would have it, Manuelito had stopped where the road began apretty sharp descent and Pike felt sure that if they could only startthe thing they could run the wagon almost opposite their hiding place.Then it would be far easier to get the stores up the rocks. Taking thepole himself and telling him to "put his shoulder to the wheel" Pikesung out a cheery "Heave!" and, slowly at first, then more rapidly, thevehicle with its precious freight came thundering down the rocky andalmost unused road. Pike had to hold back with all his might and toshout for Jim to join him, but between them they managed to control thespeed of the bulky runaway and to guide it safely to a point not farfrom their little camp. The old trooper rummaged about until he foundthe lantern hanging under the seat. This he quickly lighted, and then,loading a sack of barley for the horse on Jim's shoulders, and lugging abox of hard bread under one arm and of bacon under the other, he led theway up among the rocks until they reached Kate's "field hotel," as hecalled it. There they dumped their load under the ambulance. Pikewhispered a jovial "Go to sleep, old girl. You're all safe" to the stilltrembling Irish woman, then down they went for another load. This timethey came laden with a wonderful assortment. Coffee, sugar, condensedmilk, canned corned beef, potted ham, canned corn and tomatoes, someflour and yeast powders, a skillet or two, the coffee pot, some cups,dishes, etc., and these, too, were placed close to the ambulance, toKate's entire mystification; and then, sending Jim down for anotherlittle load, Pike set to work to build a tiny fire far back in a cleftin the rocks.

  "We'll all be glad of a cup of coffee now," he said to himself, "and sowill the captain; he should be brought back before day. We may have nochance for cooking after the sun is up. Thank God, there's water inplenty here in these hollows."

  Out in the Arizona mountains one may journey day after day in July orAugust, and all through the fall and winter, and cross gulley, gorge,ravine, canon and water cross and find them all dry as a bone--not adrop of water running. It is useless to dig below the surface, as onecould do in sandy soil and find water, for it is all rock. Indeed itwould be impossible to dig; nothing short of blasting would make anexcavation. But a kind Providence has decreed that the scout or travelershould not be left to die of thirst. Here and there in the low ground orin the ravines are deep hollows, in which the water has gathered duringthe rainy season, and this is almost always palatable and sweet. Oneonly has to know where these "tanks" are, and he is all right. BothCaptain Gwynne and Pike had twice been over to the Pass before, and,spending a day or more there scouting the neighborhood, had noted thelittle nook among the great bowlders and the abundant supply of water.It was God's mercy that this was the case.

  And now as he boiled his coffee in the little niche whence no be
trayinggleam from his fire could shoot out across the gorge, Pike gave himselfover to a calm look at the situation. If the captain recovered the mulesand got back by sunrise--despite fatigue they could give them and thehorses a good feed of barley and then push for the Colorado Chiquito,some twenty miles away. Once across that stream they were comparativelysafe, for the Apaches had a superstitious feeling against venturingbeyond. That country was considered as belonging to the Maqui PuebloIndians, of whom the wild Tontos stood a little in dread. Then, a littlefurther on, began the Navajo country, and the Navajos--once the mostfearless and intractable of mountain tribes--were now all gathered in attheir reservations about old Fort Defiance,--the richest Indians insheep, cattle and "stock" on the face of the globe. No Apache dareventure on their territory, and white men, on the contrary, were safethere. "If we can only get away before those scoundrelly Tontos getafter us," said Pike to himself. "Even if the captain doesn't get themules, we can abandon the wagon and the heavy luggage, cram theambulance with provisions and make a run for it to Sunset crossing. Iwonder which way that blackguard of a greaser did go. He would hardlydare go back the way he came with every chance of running slap into theTontos. He has taken hard tack and bacon enough to keep him aliveseveral days. It's my belief he means to hide somewhere about JarvisPass until he sees the Indians following our trail and then, when theyare fairly past, to make a run for the Verde. The cowardly hound!"

  Then Jim came stumbling up the path with his load and the lantern. Pikegave him a big tin mug of steaming coffee and a couple of "hard tack."Took another down to Kate, whom he pacified by saying that the captainwas with Manuelito and the mules and bidding her to lie down and get alittle sleep before day. Then he went back to Jim.

  "Now young man," said he, "I want you to listen carefully to what I say.You had a nap last evening--a sound sleep in fact and I've not had awink. If I can get an hour or an hour and a half it will fetch me outall right for the day's work. This coffee will freshen you up and keepyou awake. You stand guard until sunrise--until the sun is well up, infact, then call me. Keep your ears wide open; listen for every sound; ifit's the captain coming back you'll hear the hoof beats down there onthe road; if it's Apaches you won't hear anything. But you take my wordfor it, Jim, they won't attempt to follow beyond Snow Lake to-night.They can't be here before noon, and by that time we'll be miles awaytowards the river. Don't get stampeded. Just keep cool; watch andlisten. If Kate asks anything more about the captain tell her he's downby the wagon. It was too heavy to fetch up here. I don't want to make aman lie, but we mustn't let her and those poor little kids know he'saway. Now are you game for it, Jim?"

  The negro mechanically took the rifle that Pike handed to him. "I'll domy best, corporal," he said.

  "That's a trump! Now I believe I can rest easy," answered Pike, and sosaying he unrolled his blankets, spread them on the ground close by theambulance, looked to the chamber of his revolver to see that everycartridge was all right, lay his rifle by the wheel, lay down and rolledhimself into his soldier bedding, and was asleep in three minutes.

  How long afterwards it was that he was aroused Pike could not begin toguess. It seemed to him that he had not slept five minutes yet he hadhad a good, long, refreshing nap, and now it was broad daylight. The sunwas shining brightly and Black Jim was bending over him; his finger onhis lips. Pike sat up and rubbed his eyes. The first question he longedto ask was: "Has the captain got back?" but Jim pointed to the ambulanceand, listening, the old trooper heard childish voices, soft and low;their bubbling laughter telling of their utter ignorance of the dreadanxiety which hovered over the camp. Kate, worn out, was evidently stillasleep and the children were chatting blithely together but taking carenot to disturb their kind old nurse. Little Ned poked his hand outthrough the narrow space between the curtain and the frame of the doorand peeped through with one merry blue eye as he shook hands with Pike,who had scrambled to his feet.

  "Where's papa?" he whispered.

  "He's all right, little man," answered Pike, smiling cheerfully up atthe bright boy face, though the old soldier's heart was heavy as lead."He's all right. He's down looking after the mules with Manuelito. Youand Nellie hungry? I'll get you some breakfast presently, but better letold Kate sleep as long as she can."

  "I'd like to come out, corporal, and look around," whispered Ned.

  "Wait a little while, my lad. It's very early and the air is prettykeen. I'll let you out presently. See if you can find papa's fieldglasses in there anywhere. I want to take a look at the road with them."

  Ned withdrew his little brown fist and could be heard groping around thedark interior. The captain had so arranged the seats in his "familywagon" that they could be turned and flattened against the sides of thevehicle, leaving a clear space in which there was abundant room for Kateand the children to lie at full length and sleep in comfort, and thiswas their tent and sleeping apartment. The captain and his party sleptas we always used to sleep when scouting in the dry season in Arizona,without shelter of any kind, in the open air.

  Presently the little fellow re-appeared at the aperture.

  "Here it is, Pike," he whispered. "But you'll have to open the door toget it out."

  Pike turned the handle, took the "binocular," gave Ned a jovial nod andanother shake of the hand, closed the door and strode away signallingJim to follow him. When they were out of earshot of the ambulance heturned:

  "Have you heard nothing--no hoof beats?"

  "Not a thing," answered Jim. "We can't see the wagon from here, but Icould hear anything if anything had come."

  Pike looked wistfully back up the Pass. In one or two places the roadwas visible from their lookout, winding and twisting around the rocks.

  Three hundred yards away it turned around the foot of a hill and fromthat point was utterly lost to view. Pike looked at the sun, then at hisold silver watch. "After seven o'clock, by jove! and not back yet," hemuttered. "It's full time we were off for the Chiquito, but we can'tstir without the captain." Then he turned once more to Jim. "Water thehorses and give them a good measure of barley each, then put some drywood on those embers in the niche there--be sure and make no smoke--andcook some breakfast for us all. I've got to go up to that point yonder.From there I can see all over the open country to the west, and theroad, too, as far as Jarvis Pass. These glasses will show every movingobject to me, and I haven't a doubt I'll see the captain somewhere outthere in the distance coming back to join us. Darn the mules! I don'tmuch care whether he gets them or not, but I'd like about two minutes'private interview with that blasted greaser."

  So saying, Pike got a pail of water from the "tank," liberally sousedhis head, face and neck in the clear, cold water; then, throwing hisrifle over his shoulder, the brave fellow went springing down thewinding trail to the roadway and then strode westward up the Pass. A fewmoments brought him to the base of the little hill, a short, sharp climbbrought him to its crest, and there, kneeling, he adjusted the glasses,and for a long, long minute swept the open country and the winding roadlying before him in the bright sunshine. He could see every inch of theway to Jarvis Pass, and when at last he lowered the glass he groanedaloud: "My God! My God! There's not a living soul in sight."

  "MY GOD! THERE'S NOT A LIVING SOUL IN SIGHT."]