Lost in the Cañon

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER XXVII.--THE APACHES HAVE THEIR WAY.

  If an earthquake had shaken the rocks about his ears, Sam could not havebeen more shocked and startled than he was at the barking of the dog.

  As for Ike, he was rendered speechless, for Maj had darted away withoutany apparent effort to hold him back.

  "Ah, golly!" gasped Wah Shin, "de fat am allee gone in de file!"

  Although Maj had done all the damage possible, for Sam could see by themovements of the Indians that they had heard the barking, yet he did notprovoke his young master to anger.

  Sam sprang down, caught the dog by the collar and pulled him back totheir hiding place.

  "I--I wish we'd a left dat ar dorg back home!" cried Ike. "He ain't didno good eber sence we started, but to eat up de grub; an' now he goesan' makes a fuss, jest whin we most wanted foh him to keep his tongue tohisself."

  "See that he does not get out again," said Sam. "After all the dog onlyled the Indians to a discovery which they must have made sooner orlater. Ah, I wish Ulna had not gone out. He knows the habits of thesepeople and he would know what to do."

  "De man as knows what to do ondah dese yer sarcumstances," groaned Ike,"is a heap sight smarter'n me."

  "Plenty men know heap mo' den you," said Wah Shin, who was evidently ina bad humor. "You don' know 'nuff gettee in out lain."

  "Hist! Keep still," said Sam, who had again clambered to his perch onthe rock that commanded a view of the fire. "I can see men coming thisway."

  "Oh, laws a massy!" cried Ike, and with one hand he held the dog, whilewith the other he pressed his lips, "to keep from hollerin' right out,"as he afterward expressed it.

  Sam was not mistaken as to the movements of the Apaches. A number ofthem, led by their chief, had left Ulna in charge of the others andadvanced boldly to the head of the ravine.

  As a proof that they had no fear of the party they were in search of,one of the braves carried a torch, which he brandished above his headtill he seemed to walk amid a fountain of sparks.

  Taking a position where he could see without being seen, Sam, with ananxiously beating heart, watched the oncoming braves.

  They approached to within about fifty yards of the rocks in which thelittle band had sought refuge, and came to a sudden halt.

  Sam was wondering what would happen next, when, to his great surprise,the chief called out:

  "Hello, white mans! Hello!"

  The Indian spoke broken English in a way that no combination of letterscould give a correct idea of, so for our own convenience, as well as forthe reader's clearer understanding, we shall report what he said in theordinary way, though Indians never use the elegant language some writersput into their mouths.

  "What do you want?" was Sam's response to the Indian's outcry.

  "Who you are?" asked the Indian.

  "My name is Sam Willett."

  "Where you come from?"

  "From the canyon."

  "Oh, no; that's a Ute lie."

  "I did not ask you to believe me, nor do I care to talk to you. Go offabout your business, if you have any," said Sam, his confidenceincreasing every moment that he spoke.

  "You got dog?"

  "Yes."

  "Big dog?"

  "A very big dog."

  "Him bite?"

  "Yes, if you come nearer."

  "That dog fat?"

  At this question the Indians laughed and jumped about, as if theythought their chief had uttered a very fine joke, for to the Apache afat dog is the daintiest dish in all the world.

  Sam treated the inquiry about Maj's condition with haughty silence,while all the time the animal under consideration was growling andstraining to break away from Ike, as if eager to exhibit his conditionand his teeth.

  "You all white men?" was Blanco's next question.

  "No--not all," shouted Sam.

  "Who you three be?"

  "I shan't tell you."

  "Why you no tell?"

  "Because it is none of your business."

  "Dat am de gospil truff," said Ike, "an' if he don't light out purtysoon dar'll be a loose dog a-howlin' 'round, for I can't hold onter Majmuch longer."

  "My name Blanco. Me big Apache chief."

  "Well, what do you want?" asked Sam.

  "Me very good man."

  "I am glad to hear it."

  "Me and all my men, good friends to whites."

  "And I am a good friend to the Indians; if you let me alone, I shall letyou alone. Good-night," said Sam, hoping that the Indian might provesensitive and take this as a hint to leave, but he had entirely mistakenhis man.

  "When sun come up then where you go?" asked the chief, with the sameinquisitive manner.

  At this juncture it struck Sam that he might be able not only to makethese people his friends, but to utilize them in getting to his father,so he said in a kindlier tone than he had yet used:

  "We are going to Hurley's Gulch."

  "You live there?"

  "I want to get there. Do you know the _shortest_ road?"

  This was asked as if Sam might be well acquainted with the longest roadhimself.

  "Oh, yes," said the chief.

  "If you guide me--by the shortest way--to Hurley's Gulch to-morrowmorning, I will give you money, rifles, pistols, knives, blankets, andlots of other good things," said Sam with lavish generosity.

  "You got money, rifles, knives, blankets, all good things with you here,eh?" asked the chief.

  "We have all the arms we need for our own defense, and we know how touse them. But you guide me to Hurley's Gulch, and I will keep my word,"said Sam, with more confidence than he felt.

  Instead of replying at once to this generous proposition, the chiefspoke with his followers for some minutes in low, guttural tones.

  Sam could hear the murmur of their voices, and he rightly guessed thatthey were discussing whether to accept his offer in good faith, or tokill and rob himself and his companions.

  "We see you, sun up; you no leave," called out the chief at length.

  "You must make up your mind to-night, for I am going to leave early inthe morning," said Sam.

  "Oh, all right. I on hand," was the chief's reply.

  Again they consulted together, and Sam could see that four men remainedbehind to watch, while the others, with the chief, went down to thefire.

  All this time Sam was in great trouble about Ulna, for he did not evensuspect that he was a prisoner in the hands of his cruel tribal foes.

  Ike and Wah Shin were in great tribulation about themselves, for theyhad no faith in the Indians; indeed, they firmly believed that theApaches would scalp them all on the morrow.

  Ike gave expression to his feelings in the remark:

  "When we was down in that yar canyon den I felt ez if I'd rudder be inany odder place in dis worl', or de nex'; but now I'd a heap sightsooner be down dar dan up yar."

  Though tired and sleepy, Sam could not think of closing his eyes thatnight, for he feared to trust Ike or Wah Shin on guard, and he halfexpected an attack from the Apaches before morning.

  He knew that any attempt at escape would be detected, and might hastenthe struggle he was so anxious to avoid.

  More than once he wished himself back in the canyon, but the thought thathe was nearer to his father, and the hope that after all the Indiansmight not be so bad as he feared, gave him courage to face the future.

  He knew that resistance against such a force, and with his own limitedsupply of food and water, would be downright folly. So when the chiefappeared before the rocks, just as the sun was rising, he went out tomeet him, and shook hands with him.

  "Me come down to water, eat something," said the chief, in what seemed ahospitable spirit.

  _Sam went out to meet the chief and shook hands withhim._]

  Sam, Ike, and Wah Shin took up their bundles and with the dog, went backto the spring.

  Here to their amazement and horror they found Ulna lying near the firewith his hands and feet bound.

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