The Peril Finders

  CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

  PLAYING FROG.

  It seemed to Chris as if any attempt at hiding would be folly, for if hecould see the enemy where the light was not so clear he felt certainthat the Indians must have seen him and the pony at once, standing upplainly against the brightening sky.

  "I don't know what to do," he said to himself, as he sprang upon thepony's back, and felt better directly. For as the sturdy little animalbegan to move springily along, fresh vigour seemed to run through theboy's nerves, and he looked sharply round again.

  "There must be some way for us to escape," he cried aloud, "and theyshall have a long gallop before they catch us."

  He paused for a few moments to look down into the valley and across atthe towering up rows of broken openings on the other side of thedepression, feeling the while that to stay anywhere near the edge of theprecipice was only to hasten his surrender, for the distance from theedge to the level bottom of the valley seemed terrible, so giddy andfull of horror for him who fell, that Chris literally wrenched his eyesaway, to sweep the horizon till he had made up his mind which was themost open and level part of the tableland to select for the wild gallopto come.

  "I did hope to have seen some one over yonder," he muttered bitterly,"but I suppose they are asleep and don't know what danger I am in.There, off with you, old lad," he cried aloud, shaking the rein. "No,no--steady; it's going to be a long ride, and you mustn't be pumped outfor hours to come. That's better; a nice gentle canter. Well done!How light and easy you do go."

  It was as if the beautiful little animal understood its rider's words.It certainly did his caresses, for it snorted loudly, tossed up itshead, and then bending it down with neck finely arched, it progressed inbound after bound as if it were a joy to be cantering along that highlevel ground in the pure elastic air.

  Chris gave his mount another pat or two upon the neck, and then settlinghimself in his saddle he turned his head to watch the Indians.

  In an instant he had learned that not only could they see him but theyhad grasped his intention as to the way in which he sought to escape.For directly after, three of them had darted out of the line and goneoff at full speed, opening out the while, with the evident intention ofcutting off their victim.

  Chris was ready, and after riding a little way so as to give the enemytime, he suddenly bore upon his rein and changed his course.

  But as soon as this was seen, three more of the Indians started off toturn him away from the open country in that direction.

  Again Chris changed, each time increasing his speed; but in this, and inthe efforts which followed, the Indians grasped his ideas, and theygalloped out to cut him off, till after trial following trial thefugitive found that his efforts to escape in that way could only resultin tiring out his mustang, and so cleverly had the enemy manoeuvred thatthey had cast, as it were, a line round him, a semicircle whose chordwas the edge of the depression, towards which when it pleased them andthey felt certain, they could press him back, gradually contractingtheir line till he was completely in their power.

  Chris drew rein to sit watching the enemy for a few minutes, andbreathing his mount while he decided as to what he must do.

  The decision was soon arrived at. There was the open country withIndians dotted at intervals ready to close in, but all the same that wasthe only way of escape, for fully twenty sat like statues upon theirhorses across the open part which gradually contracted to form the jawsof the ravine down which he would have liked to turn.

  "I must do it," thought the boy, and his mind was made up. The opencountry must be reached, and he prepared for action by taking hisrevolver out of the holster and holding it ready for a shot; thengathering up his reins and pointing his pony's head for the very centreof the line which hemmed him in, he went off at a canter straight forthe open, picking out one man as his guide.

  The result was exactly what he expected, for as he increased his pacethe Indians to his right and left came galloping, evidently meaning toreach him just as he gained their line.

  Chris urged his pony on at full gallop, and there was a race, the enemysweeping over the short level grass, concentrating themselves as it wereupon their quarry, and beginning to yell and shout as they tore along.But Chris's movement was only a feint, and the next minute he hadwheeled round, changing his direction to one parallel with the edge ofthe cliff, tearing along so that two out of three of the Indians dashedpast him, while as he neared the other, who was right in his way, heraised his revolver, waited till he was as close as he was likely toget, and then at intervals fired three shots, the little bulletswhizzing through the clear morning air, and the last, to the boy'ssurprise and delight, finding its billet with a faint _ping_.

  He had only expected to startle and perhaps make his enemy turn tail,but to his utter astonishment the last man's pony stopped short, sendingthe rider over its head, and Chris tore on, with the intention ofpassing through the line.

  It was a furious race now, for at intervals quite a dozen of the enemywere trailing along now to cut him off, and victory was bound to be tothe most swift. But the enemy were clever enough not to trust to theresult of this race, for several hundreds of yards out another line ofhorsemen was tearing over the plain, whirling their bows and spears overtheir heads and using them mercilessly upon the flanks of their steeds.

  It was a good race, during which Chris's mustang proved its speed, goingover the grass _ventre a terre_, as the French call it, and, to hisdelight, the boy was able to pass round the farthest horseman, whostrove vainly to head him, as he made now for the open plain.

  The effort was vain, for the second line was closing-in at full gallop,and seeing the hopelessness of repeating his first feint, Chris nowurged his pony on again parallel with the edge of the cliff, with someidea of riding round the end of the great depression so as to get to thefar side, and then, trusting to the speed of his brave little mount,escaping there.

  But it was of no use. At first he began to feel hopeful, for he wasgoing fast and getting well on towards the head of the valley, whichafter a gallop he finally reached. The open country beyond was beforehim, he was bending down again to reach forward and pat the pony's neck,shouting cheering words to it the while, when he suddenly became awareof the fact that right in front, and coming from quite a differentdirection, there was another party of the enemy, which no sooner caughtsight of the chase than they increased their pace, spreading out into aline the while.

  Chris began to draw rein, slowly checking his pony's gallop to a canter,and then easing it down to a walk, for he had been gradually edged moreand more towards the rim of the great depression, till there was notmore than a hundred yards between him and the precipitous descent, whichpresented an effectual barrier to all escape there.

  "They're too much for me," panted the boy breathlessly, and quiteinnocent of this naive way of expressing himself, for it never occurredto him how pitifully small his chances of escape had been in pittinghimself, a mere lad, against nearly a hundred of the active warriors ofthe plain.

  "But I'm not done yet," he muttered, as he pressed his pony's sides andcantered on towards where in one spot the smooth level gave place to arugged patch where the ground was broken up and strewed with stonesright to the edge of the precipice for about a hundred yards, before itbecame smooth and level again.

  As near as he could guess he was leaving behind the spot where theIndians had been first seen; but that was only a passing thought. Hewas, as he had said, not done yet, and in those stones he saw shelterfor himself and his mount while he made a stand for a time in the hopethat aid of some kind might come, or some turn of the tide occur in hisfavour.

  Full of this idea, he cantered on, and reached the rugged patch ofbroken ground, his sinking spirits rising as he drew near and found thatit would give more shelter than he had hoped for, since no horsemancould charge through it; in fact, as he reached the spot he was obligedto let the pony pick its way in and out among pieces of rock eight orten feet hig
h which looked as if they had been turned up, while amongthem there were shallow, shady rifts, and in one case quite a gash goingdeeply down and cutting right through the edge of the depression, beingevidently the work of water that at some period or other in the world'shistory had run over the edge of the precipice in a cascade.

  But Chris was in no humour then for calculating the causes of thisappearance, this roughening of the level plain. He did wonder that hehad not noticed it from below, but there was no occasion for wonder,since the stones stood too far back from the edge to be visible topeople four or five hundred feet below. He only saw in the chaoticpatch a place of sanctuary, and rode right in, to draw rein with hisback to one of the largest blocks of stone, while others were betweenhim and the advancing enemy.

  It was the merest chance, but a long search could not have discovered abetter spot for the boy's temporary protection, and calling up thelittle knowledge he had picked up of the Indians' nature and habits, heset his teeth as he let the rein fall upon his mount's neck, passed thesling of his rifle over his head, and drew round and opened hiscartridge-pouch.

  "Stand still, old chap," he said, and for the moment he thought ofdismounting, resting the barrel of his piece across the saddle, andfiring from there; but the thought came that at any moment he might haveto seize the opportunity to gallop off, while the minute expended inchanging his position and mounting might make all the difference betweenescape and capture.

  So he sat fast and waited, watching the approach of the Indians, who didnot ride in at once, but treated him, after their experience of seeingone of their companions go down, as a dangerous enemy, one to be takenunawares, or after being rendered helpless, while for his part Chris satfirm as a rock, feeling fear, of course, but strung up by the sensationof being suddenly called upon to fight for his life.

  But he felt that it would not be long before the enemy took action,while there were moments when his heart seemed to sink with theheaviness of despair, as he fully realised how little he could doagainst so many.

  He was not kept waiting long after the Indians had closed up, for theystopped about a hundred yards away and then started off as if about toturn their horses in an elliptical course, starting off and ridinground, each man as he passed the lad at a distance of some fifty yardsuttering a piercing war-whoop, with the evident intention of alarmingtheir victim, who however sat waiting patiently and apparently notalarmed in the least.

  These shouts were given as the whole body passed round and within range,and lasted till every man had shouted his defiant cry, while the lad satfast holding his fire. But at the second career something else wasevidently on the way, and if possible Chris set his teeth harder, for asone man went by at a canter he leaned over towards his left, raised thebow he held quickly with an arrow fitted on the string, and loosed itwith a _twang_!

  It was aimed pretty straight, and loosed off just as the man wasclearing one of the blocks of stone, against whose side the arrowglanced and then whizzed by Chris's head and flew over the edge of theprecipice, to disappear in the depths below.

  Chris drew a deep sigh and raised his rifle, for it seemed to him thatit was nearing the time when he must use it.

  For the Indians were riding on in the ellipse, and another man fitted anarrow to his bowstring, and as he rode by loosed it off.

  A far better shot. There was no striking against rock for it to glanceoff, for the next moment it struck with a heavy thud in the pommel ofChris's saddle, and quivered there till the lad snapped it off.

  A loud yell rose from the cantering Indians as they saw the success ofthe shot, and as one of the next rode by he sent his arrow whizzing bythe boy's head, making him start nervously and raise his rifle to hisshoulder; but nearly a minute elapsed before he fired and lowered hispiece to thrust in a fresh cartridge, sitting half-hidden by the smoke,which screened him from his enemies at the same time that it hinderedhim from seeing the effect of his shot.

  As the smoke rose it was only to show the party cantering by at an easypace and looking as if they were engaged in some trial of skill, and inspite of the peril in which he was placed Chris's thoughts played astrange prank, suggesting to him the old fable of the boys and thefrogs.

  "What is sport to you is death to us!" he muttered bitterly, and aimingmore carefully now, well in advance of one of the Indians, he drewtrigger and wrenched himself on one side to avoid the smoke and watchthe effect.

  The act worked in a two-edged way, for another arrow darted by him witha buzz like that of an angry hornet, at the same time that a yell arose,for he saw the man at whom he had fired trying to scramble up from theearth and falling again, while his horse after throwing its rider hadreared up, to stand pawing the air frantically for some moments, beforecoming down on all fours, and then tearing off at full gallop as hard asit could set hoof to ground.

  There was a furious yell of rage at this, and a feeling of satisfactionthrilled through the boy's frame as his busy fingers opened and closedthe breech of his rifle. But the triumph was only short-lived.

  _Whizz_--_thud_, another arrow was loosed off from the string, strikingthe pony low-down in the chest. The poor animal uttered a groan thatwas almost human in its tones, as it plunged and wrenched itself round,to stand biting at the place where the arrow stuck out, snapping it intwo, and nearly unseating its rider, as well as robbing him of the powerto fire again, for his side was now towards the foe. Worse still, thepony's change of front presented the whole flank to the enemy, whoresponded with a yell of triumph by sending in a couple more arrows,both of which hit.

  In an instant the poor brute was erect upon its hind-legs, overbalancingitself and falling backward, Chris saving himself by throwing himselfsidewise, while as he scrambled up, holding on tightly to his rifle, heturned to fire, fully expecting that the Indians would dash in; but themuzzle of the presented rifle was too formidable for them--they knew itspower, and they kept on cantering along, yelling with delight.

  Meanwhile the pony was kicking wildly and tearing at the turf as it layupon its side.

  Chris did not attempt to fire, but obeyed the impulse of trying to gethis mount to rise again, with the full intent of flinging himself uponits back and galloping in desperation through the enemy.

  Two arrows whizzed by him, for his motion, consequent upon the pony'sstruggles and his efforts to avoid the poor brute's hoofs, was so rapidthat he formed a bad butt for a galloping horseman, and so escaped forthe moment.

  "Up--up, old chap!" he shouted, as he caught hold of the rein, and inobedience to the familiar voice the brave little beast made a desperateeffort, and gained its feet, uttering an almost human shriek. Then witha bound it threw up its head, nearly snatching the rein from itsmaster's hand, plunging and kicking wildly.

  "Keep still--wo-ho!--quiet!" cried Chris; but in vain, and doubtlessfortunately for himself, for he was dragged here and there by thefrantic steed, quite ignorant of the direction the pony's struggles ledhim, but always just out of the course of arrow after arrow, some ofwhich flew wide, while others nearly grazed him, but not one hit.

  The thought that dominated all others now in Chris's mind was that hemust let go. He had nearly been down twice; then he had stumbled overone of the stones which lay thickly here and there; the pony's hoofgrazed his side as, mad with rage and pain, it tore away from him,giving a sudden snatch in its effort to get free from the rein Chris hadtwisted round his hand.

  For the moment the boy felt that his shoulder was dislocated; then heknew that he had lost his foothold and was being dragged over theground; and the very next moment, as a terrific yell smote his ears, itseemed to be cut off short and to sound distant, for he was fallingthrough the air, to strike somewhere heavily, roll over and feel that hewas gliding down amidst stones and loosened earth. Then he was checkedagain, hanging as it were for a moment before commencing another slideshorter than the last, for he was brought up with a sharp shock againsta stone, to which he clung, just as he heard a dull crash somewherebeneath him, and
the sound of hoofs tearing at stones, which kept onclattering down in an avalanche, to keep up a loud, heavy, rattlingnoise, but all far below.

  In spite of the horrible excitement and confusion, Chris's brain wasclear enough. His left arm felt useless, and his shoulder throbbed, buthe was quite conscious that his head was not injured, and perfectly wellaware that he had stuck to the rein till the unfortunate pony haddragged him to the edge of the precipice at the head of the valley, andthen, mad with pain, gone over, to be lying somewhere below.

  But not dead yet, for every now and then the sound of the poor beast'shoofs came up, striking at loose stones and sending more and moreclattering down into the valley.

  And then for a few moments the boy turned sick, and loosing his hold ofhis gun, which lay half under him, he clung with all his might to thestone which had checked his further downward progress; for the newthought which had attacked him was that if he did not hold fast he wouldfall--fall--down the dizzy height into the black darkness of the end.

  As he lay there clinging with all his might he was conscious of a wildgabble of voices in an unknown tongue, somewhere above him, and then asif out of a mist a stone fell, struck that to which he clung, andglanced off, to be heard no more. But another small stone came rattlingdown, in company with some earth, and opening his eyes he found himselfstaring upward at the edge of the cliff and the narrow, earthy and stonycleft down which he had fallen, recognising it even then as the probablebed of the torrent, that had at some time or other flowed over the rivencliff to plunge into the depths below.

  The loud talking right above cleared away the last of the giddy feelingof faintness, but only for him to be face to face with a fresh horror,for all at once another arrow whizzed by, but yards away, and looking uphe could see the head of an Indian whose eyes glistened in the sunshineas he peered down as if to look for the effect of the arrow he haddispatched.

  Then another head appeared, and the talking increased. Men wereshouting, and apparently the shouts were orders, and more headsappeared. Stones and earth crumbled down too, and another arrow whizzedby and struck somewhere near; but it did not seem to come straight down,while another sent directly after evidently came from away to his right.

  "They can't reach over far enough to get a good aim at me," thoughtChris then, with a strange sense of resignation to the inevitable makinghim feel calm and patient in his utter helplessness. He could hear thepony strike out again and the stones the poor beast dislodged goclattering down, and then there was a peculiar rushing sound, and smallbroken pieces and earth began to fall near him, making him strain hiseyes once more to see whence they came.

  He knew the next moment, for a shout reached his ears, coming fromabove, and the legs of an Indian passed into sight, then the whole ofhis body, as more stones crumbled down, and as the boy watched he madeout plainly enough that one of his enemies had lowered himself down,crept sidewise, and had just reached a ledge far above him and a littleon one side, where he was busy settling himself in a sitting positionbefore drawing his bow from his back and proceeding to fit an arrow tothe string.

  The look of triumph in the man's painted face was clear enough in thebright morning air. His teeth glistened as he smiled, and Chris clungstill not daring to move, but ready to smile as the thought occurredeven then, Why shouldn't I let go and fall, so as to disappoint thismalicious savage of his attempt to slay?

  But it was all like a terrible waking dream to Chris, who lay thereconscious of the fact that several of the man's comrades were peeringover the edge of the cliff watching his efforts and now waiting to seethe successful shot.

  It seemed a long time after the nock of the arrow was fitted to thesinew string before, setting his feet against a stone and his backfirmly against the perpendicular at the back of the shelf he had gained,the Indian fixed his eyes on his victim and deliberately drew the arrowto the head.

  But the effort made in a very critical position caused one foot to slipa little, and slackening the string, the savage shifted his foot, and assoon as he had satisfied himself that he was not likely to slip andplunge headlong down into the valley, he drew the arrow to the headagain.

  But once more, as with starting eyes Chris watched for the loosing ofthe shaft, there was a check in the proceedings. For, after lying quitestill for some minutes, the pony uttered a loud neigh and began to kickand paw at the stones amongst which he lay, sending a fresh avalanchedown into the valley.

  The Indian started like a wild beast at the sound, and his sharp eyeswere turned to gaze downward as he reached out a little. But apparentlysatisfied that the sound was not the prelude to an attack, he once moresettled himself down and--quickly now, in response to a shout from theIndians above him--drew his arrow to the head.

  Chris tried to close his eyes, but his nerves and muscles were rigid asthe bow twanged, and he noted that the arrow passed like a flash, highup above his head, as he saw the savage spring up standing on the ledge,clap his hand to his breast, and curving himself backward as his kneesbent, fall outward and come down to strike the side of the cliff acouple of dozen yards away, level with the stone to which his intendedvictim clung. Then he bounded off to descend swiftly, drawing himselfup like a ball, and pass out of sight, but only to fall with a sickeningcrash not far from where a little puff of smoke had darted out in thebottom of the valley, to be followed by a sharp crack which echoed fromthe cliffs and re-echoed twice, to mingle with a chorus of yells fromthe edge where a score of Indians stood peering over to try and seewhere their companion had struck.