CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
FRIENDS AND FOES--PLOTS AND COUNTERPLOTS--THE RANCH IN DANGER.
In a few minutes the sound of heavy feet and gruff voices was heard inthe outside passage, and next moment ten men filed into the room andsaluted their chief heartily.
Charlie felt an almost irresistible tendency to open his eyes, but knewthat the risk was too great, and contented himself with his ears. Thesetold him pretty eloquently what was going on, for suddenly, the noise ofvoices and clattering of footsteps ceased, a dead silence ensued, andCharlie knew that the whole band were gazing at him with wide open eyesand, probably, open mouths. Their attention had been directed to thestranger by the chief. The silence was only momentary, however.
"Now, don't begin to whisper, pards," said Buck Tom, in a slightlysarcastic tone. "When will ye learn that there is nothing so likely towaken a sleeper as whisperin'? Be natural--be natural, and tell me, assoftly as ye can in your natural tones, what has brought you back sosoon. Come, Jake, you have got the quietest voice. The poor man ispretty well knocked up and needs rest. I brought him here."
"Has he got much?" the sentence was completed by Jake significantlyslapping his pocket.
"A goodish lot. But come, sit down and out wi' the news. Somethingmust be wrong."
"Wall, I guess that somethin' _is_ wrong. Everything's wrong, as far asI can see. The Redskins are up, an' the troops are out, an' so itseemed o' no use our goin' to bust up the ranch of Roarin' Bull, seein'that the red devils are likely to be there before us. So we came backhere, an' I'm glad you've got suthin' in the pot, for we're about asempty as kettledrums."
"Humph!" ejaculated Buck, "didn't I tell you not to trouble Roarin'Bull--that he and his boys could lick you if you had been twenty insteadof ten. But how came ye to hear o' this cock-and-bull story about theRedskins?"
"We got it from Hunky Ben, an' he's not the boy to go spreadin' falsereports."
Charlie Brooke ventured at this point to open his eye-lids the smallestpossible bit, so that any one looking at him would have failed toobserve any motion in them. The little slit however, admitted the wholescene to the retina, and he perceived that ten of the mostcut-throat-looking men conceivable were seated in a semicircle in theact of receiving portions from the big pot into tin plates. Most ofthem were clothed in hunters' leathern costume, wore long boots withspurs, and were more or less bronzed and bearded.
Buck Tom, _alias_ Ralph Ritson, although as tall and strong as any ofthem, seemed a being of quite angelic gentleness beside them. Yet Buckwas their acknowledged chief. No doubt it was due to the superiority ofmind over matter, for those out-laws were grossly material andmatter-of-fact!
"There must be some truth in the report if Hunky Ben carried it," saidBuck, looking up quickly, "but I left Ben sitting quietly in David'sstore not many hours ago."
"No doubt that's true, Captain," said Jake, as he ladled the soup intohis capacious mouth; "nevertheless we met Hunky Ben on the pine-riverprairie scourin' over the turf like all possessed on Black Polly. Westopped him of course an' asked the news."
"`News!' cried he, `why, the Redskins have dug up the hatchet an' rizlike one man. They've clar'd out Yellow Bluff, an' are pourin' likeNiagara down upon Rasper's Creek. It's said that they'll visit Roarin'Bull's ranch to-morrow. No time for more talk, boys. Oratin' ain't inmy line. I'm off to Quester Creek to rouse up the troops.' Wi' thatHunky wheeled round an' went off like a runaway streak o' lightnin'. Isent a couple o' shots after him, for I'd took a fancy to Black Polly--but them bullets didn't seem to hit somehow."
"Boys," cried Buck Tom, jumping up when he heard this, "if Hunky Bensaid all that, you may depend on't it's true, an' we won't have to wastetime this night if we're to save the ranch of Roarin' Bull."
"But we don't want to save the ranch of Roarin' Bull, as far as I'mconsarned," said Jake rather sulkily.
Buck wheeled round on the man with a fierce glare, but, as if suddenlychanging his mind, he said in a tone of well-feigned surprise--
"What! _you_, Jake, of all men--such a noted lady-killer--indifferentabout the fate of the ranch of Roaring Bull, and pretty Miss MaryJackson in it at the mercy of the Redskins!"
"Well, if it comes to that, Captain, I'll ride as far and as fast as anyman to rescue a girl, pretty or plain, from the Redskins," said Jake,recovering his good-humour.
"Well, then, cram as much grub as you can into you in five minutes, forwe must be off by that time. Rise, sir," said Buck, shaking Charliewith some violence. "We ride on a matter of life an' death--to savewomen. Will you join us?"
"Of course I will!" cried Charlie, starting up with a degree of alacrityand vigour that favourably impressed the outlaws, and shaking off hissimulated sleep with wonderful facility.
"Follow me, then," cried Buck, hastening out of the cave.
"But what of Shank?" asked Charlie, in some anxiety, when they gotoutside. "He cannot accompany us; may we safely leave him behind?"
"Quite safely. This place is not known to the savages who are on thewarpath, and there is nothing to tempt them this way even if it were.Besides, Shank is well enough to get up and gather firewood, kindle hisfire, and boil the kettle for himself. He is used to being left alone.See, here is our stable under the cliff, and yonder stands your horse.Saddle him. The boys will be at our heels in a moment. Some of themare only too glad to have a brush wi' the Redskins, for they killed twoof our band lately."
This last remark raised an uncomfortable feeling in the mind of Charlie,for was he not virtually allying himself with a band of outlaws, withintent to attack a band of Indians of whom he knew little or nothing,and with whom he had no quarrel? There was no time, however, to weighthe case critically. The fact that savages were about to attack theranch in which his comrade Dick Darvall was staying, and that there werefemales in the place, was enough to settle the question. In a minute ortwo he had saddled his horse, which he led out and fastened to a tree,and, while the outlaws were busy making preparations for a start, he ranback to the cave.
"Shank," said he, sitting down beside his friend and taking his hand,"you have heard the news. My comrade Darvall is in great danger. Imust away to his rescue. But be sure, old fellow, that I will return toyou soon."
"Yes, yes--I know," returned Shank, with a look of great anxiety; "but,Charlie, you don't know half the danger you run. Don't fight with BuckTom--do you hear?"
"Of course I won't," said Charlie, in some surprise.
"No, no, that's not what I mean," said Shank, with increasing anxiety."Don't fight _in company with him_."
At that moment the voice of the outlaw was heard at the entranceshouting, "Come along, Brooke, we're all ready."
"Don't be anxious about me, Shank; I'll take good care," said Charlie,as he hastily pressed the hand of the invalid and hurried away.
The ten men with Buck at their head were already mounted when he ranout.
"Pardon me," he said, vaulting into the saddle, "I was having a wordwith the sick man."
"Keep next to me, and close up," said Buck, as he wheeled to the rightand trotted away.
Down the Traitor's Trap they went at what was to Charlie a break-neckbut satisfactory pace, for now that he was fairly on the road adesperate anxiety lest they should be too late took possession of him.Across an open space they went at the bottom of which ran a brawlingrivulet. There was no bridge, but over or through it went the wholeband without the slightest check, and onward at full gallop, for thecountry became more level and open just beyond.
The moon was still shining although sinking towards the horizon, and nowfor the first time Charlie began to note with what a stern and recklessband of men he was riding, and a feeling of something like exultationarose within him as he thought on the one hand of the irresistible sweepof an onslaught from such men, and, on the other, of the cruelties thatsavages were known to practise. In short, rushing to the rescue wasnaturally congenial to our hero.
About the same time that
the outlaws were thus hastening for once on anhonourable mission--though some of them went from anything buthonourable motives--two other bands of men were converging to the samepoint as fast as they could go. These were a company of United Statestroops, guided by Hunky Ben, and a large band of Indians under theirwarlike chief Bigfoot.
Jackson, _alias_ Roaring Bull, had once inadvertently given offence toBigfoot, and as that chief was both by nature and profession anunforgiving man he had vowed to have his revenge. Jackson treated thethreat lightly, but his pretty daughter Mary was not quite asindifferent about it as her father.
The stories of Indian raids and frontier wars and barbarous crueltieshad made a deep impression on her sensitive mind, and when her motherdied, leaving her the only woman at her father's ranch--with theexception of one or two half-breed women, who could not be much to heras companions--her life had been very lonely, and her spirit had beensubjected to frequent, though hitherto groundless, alarms.
But pretty Moll, as she was generally called, was well protected, forher father, besides having been a noted pugilist in his youth, was abig, powerful man, and an expert with rifle and revolver. Moreover,there was not a cow-boy within a hundred miles of her who would not (atleast thought he would not) have attacked single-handed the whole raceof Redskins if Moll had ordered him to do so as a proof of affection.
Now, when strapping, good-looking Dick Darvall came to the ranch in thecourse of his travels and beheld Mary Jackson, and received the firstbroadside from her bright blue eyes, he hauled down his colours andsurrendered with a celerity which would have mightily amused the manycomrades to whom he had said in days of yore that his heart was as hardas rock, and he had never yet seen the woman as could soften it!
But Dick, more than most of his calling, was a modest, almost a bashful,man. He behaved to Mary with the politeness that was natural to him,and with which he would have approached any woman. He did not make theslightest attempt to show his admiration of her, though it is quitewithin the bounds of possibility that his "speaking" brown eyes may havesaid something without his permission! Mary Jackson, being also modestin a degree, of course did not reveal the state of her feelings, andmade no visible attempt to ascertain his, but her bluff sagacious oldfather was not obtuse--neither was he reticent. He was a man of theworld--at least of the back-woods world--and his knowledge of life, asthere exhibited, was founded on somewhat acute experience. He knew thathis daughter was young and remarkably pretty. He saw that Dick Darvallwas also young--a dashing and unusually handsome sailor--something likewhat Tom Bowling may have been. Putting these things together, he cameto the very natural conclusion that a wedding would be desirable;believing, as he did, that human nature in the Rockies is very much thesame as to its foundation elements as it is elsewhere. Moreover,Roaring Bull was very much in want of a stout son-in-law at that time,so he fanned the flame which he fondly hoped was beginning to arise.This he did in a somewhat blundering and obvious manner, but Dick wastoo much engrossed with Mary to notice it and Mary was too ignorant ofthe civilised world's ways to care much for the proprieties of life.
Of course this state of things created an awful commotion in the breastsof the cow-boys who were in the employment of Mary's father and herdedhis cattle. Their mutual jealousies were sunk in the supreme dangerthat threatened them all, and they were only restrained from picking aquarrel with Dick and shooting him by the calmly resolute look in hisbrown eyes, coupled with his great physical power and his irresistiblegood-nature. Urbanity seemed to have been the mould in which the spiritof this man-of-the-sea had been cast and gentleness was one of his chiefcharacteristics. Moreover, he could tell a good story, and sing a goodsong in a fine bass voice. Still further, although these gallantcow-boys felt intensely jealous of this newcomer, they could not butadmit that they had nothing tangible to go upon, for the sailor did notapparently pay any pointed attention to Mary, and she certainly gave nospecial encouragement to him.
There was one cow-boy, however, of Irish descent, who could not or wouldnot make up his mind to take things quietly, but resolved, as far as hewas concerned, to bring matters to a head. His name was Pat Reilly.
He entered the kitchen on the day after Dick's arrival and found Maryalone and busily engaged with the dinner.
"Miss Jackson," said Pat, "there's a question I've bin wantin' to ax yefor a long time past, an' with your lave I'll putt it now."
"What is it Mr Reilly?" asked the girl somewhat stiffly, for she had asuspicion of what was coming. A little negro girl in the back kitchennamed Buttercup also had a suspicion of what was coming, and stationedherself with intense delight behind the door, through a crack in whichshe could both hear and see.
"Mary, my dear," said Pat insinuatingly, "how would you like to jumpinto double harness with me an' jog along the path o' life together?"
Poor Mary, being agitated by the proposal, and much amused by the mannerof it, bent over a pot of something and tried to hide her blushes andamusement in the steam. Buttercup glared, grinned, hugged herself, andwaited for more.
Pat, erroneously supposing that silence meant consent, slipped an armround Mary's waist. No man had ever yet dared to do such a thing toher. The indignant girl suddenly wheeled round and brought her prettylittle palm down on the cow-boy's cheek with all her might--and that wasconsiderable!
"Who's a-firin' off pistles in de kitchen?" demanded Buttercup in aserious tone, as she popped her woolly head through the doorway.
"Nobody, me black darlin'," said Pat; "it's only Miss Mary expressin'her failin's in a cheeky manner. That's all!"
So saying the rejected cow-boy left the scene of his discomfiture,mounted his mustang, took his departure from the ranch of Roarin' Bullwithout saying farewell, and when next heard of had crossed the lonelyGuadaloupe mountains into Lincoln County, New Mexico.
But to return. While the troops and the outlaws were hastening thus tothe rescue of the dwellers in Bull's ranch, and the blood-thirstyRedskins were making for the same point, bent on the destruction of allits inhabitants, Roaring Bull himself, his pretty daughter, and DickDarvall, were seated in the ranch enjoying their supper, all ignorantalike of the movements of friend and foe, with Buttercup waiting onthem.
One messenger, however, was speeding on his way to warn them of danger.This was the cowboy Crux, who had been despatched on Bluefire by HunkyBen just before that sturdy scout had started to call out the cavalry atQuester Creek.