CHAPTER XIV.
MISSING.
The minute quickly arrived when Jack Dudley could no longer doubt that agreat misfortune had befallen his comrade, Fred Greenwood.
In the anguish of anxiety Jack's imagination pictured many mishaps thatmight account for the disappearance. He must have heard the report ofthe elder's Winchester, and, since Fred's attention was centred upon theherd of antelope, he could not fail to know that his friend had securedone of them for their evening meal. The only thing to prevent hishastening to join Jack must have been his inability to do so. There wasthe remote possibility that his accident had been of a nature thatinvolved no one else--such, for instance, as sudden illness, though Jackhad never known anything like that to overtake his friend.
All that the youth could do was to attempt to follow the route that Fredhad taken when he set out to place himself on the other side of thegame. It was guesswork to trace his footsteps, but the elder youth madethe effort. When he had progressed half the distance, however, hepaused, convinced that his labor was utterly useless. He called to Fred,repeated their familiar signals and fired several charges in air, withno more response than at first.
"He has been either killed or carried off by a party of Indians," wasthe conclusion that forced itself upon him.
And with this conviction came the certainty that it was out of the powerof Jack Dudley to do anything for his friend. He might tramp back andforth for nights and days, but with no success, for Fred Greenwood wasgone--whither?
Had Jack been skilled in woodcraft, possibly he might have discoveredsome signs along the valley that would have enlightened him, but he wasuntrained in the ways of red men and was not equal to the task. A dogthat knew how to track a person would have been of immeasurable value,but such a canine was not to be had.
One memory clung tormentingly to the searcher. It was the demoniac faceof Motoza, the Sioux, when Fred Greenwood compelled him to return theWinchester of Jack. There could be but one interpretation of thatexpression, and it boded the worst for the missing youth.
"Motoza feels no affection for me, but his hatred of Fred is so intensethat he is bent on revenging himself; yet I did not think he wouldstrike so soon."
The afternoon was drawing to a close, and Jack was fully two miles fromcamp. If he wished to reach their rendezvous before night he had no timeto waste. The problem was now in the shape that Hank Hazletine's helpwas indispensable. If anyone could assist Fred Greenwood, the guide wasthe man.
"He promised to meet us this evening, and if I wait I shall lose myway."
Accordingly the lad faced in the direction of the plateau and pressedforward with energy. In his haste he kept the former landmarks in view,and his previous experience had given him a certain familiarity with theregion which prevented his going astray. Once more he leaped the canyon,without pausing longer than to glance into its depths as he swung overit. He saw nothing of the bulky carcass of the grizzly bear that hadfallen a victim to the marksmanship of himself and friend, and just asnight was shutting in he reached the edge of the small plateau where theponies were contentedly grazing.
In one respect better fortune than he anticipated awaited him. Insteadof being compelled to pass the intolerable hours in waiting for thecoming of the guide, he saw he had already reached the spot. A fire wasburning at the mouth of the cavern, and the sinewy figure of the veteranwas observed as he moved to and fro before it. Detecting the approach ofJack, he stood erect and silently watched him as he drew near.
A person as agitated as Jack Dudley finds it hard to conceal hisfeelings. Something in the action and the expression of his white faceas he came near enough to be seen distinctly gave the hunter theknowledge that matters had gone amiss with the boy. True to his word,Hank had brought no food back to camp. He had eaten his evening mealbefore going thither, leaving his young friends to provide for their ownwants.
"Where's the younker?" was his question, before Jack halted.
"O Hank! I do not know what has happened; I fear we shall never see Fredagain!"
And, unable to restrain his grief that had been pent up so long, Jackbroke down and sobbed like a child. The veteran showed a delicacy thatwould hardly have been expected from him. He knew it would do Jack goodto yield to his sorrow for a brief while, for he would soon becomecooler and more self-possessed. Accordingly the hunter remained silentuntil the youth mastered his emotions, when he laid his hand tenderly onhis shoulder and said:
"Now, set down here beside me and let me know all about it."
Jack appreciated his consideration, and taking the seat to which he wasinvited, he told, in a choking voice, the story of the incident besidethe little valley, when Fred Greenwood, in high spirits, walked away andvanished as if the earth had opened and swallowed him. Jack did notbreak down again, for he was resolved to be manly and brave. He wouldnot think of his young friend as wholly lost, nor allow himself toconsider the awful possibility of returning home with the message thatFred would never be seen again. Jack felt it was time for action, notfor lamentation.
Hazletine was grave and thoughtful, but the youth had hardly finishedhis narrative when he said:
"You haven't told me all."
"I do not think of anything I have omitted."
"Your story begins with the first sight of the antelope; what happenedafore that?"
"A good deal; I did not think you would care to hear it."
"I want every word."
So it was that Jack began with their departure in the morning from camp,and made clear every occurrence down to the start for the valley wherethe great misfortune overtook them. He realized, while describing themeeting with Motoza, the important bearing that it had upon thedisappearance of Fred Greenwood.
When the story was completed the guide emitted a low whistle, followedby an exclamation of so vigorous a character that it startled Jack. Hanksprang excitedly to his feet and strode back and forth until able tocontrol his feelings. Then with a voice and expression of scornfulcontempt, he asked:
"What do you think of Motoza's love for you and Fred?"
"I admit that you were right and we were wrong about him; I feared forFred, not for myself, and you see he has not tried to harm _me_."
"That ain't 'cause he loves you like the brother he calls hisself, but'cause he hates Fred more'n he does you. If he hadn't had such a goodchance to grab the other younker, he would have grabbed you."
"Then you have no doubt that Motoza is the cause of it all?"
"No more doubt than that you're a setting on that stone there."
"I can't understand it; Fred is not the one to let a single Indian makehim prisoner, when one is as well armed as the other."
"Who said there was only one of the imps?"
The abrupt question meant a good deal. It had already been proven that anumber of other Indians were in the vicinity; but Jack had not thoughtof associating them with the vagrant Sioux in his hostility to the younghunters, although there was scarcely a doubt that Motoza had had onehelper or more in his designs against Fred Greenwood. This put a newface on the matter, and Hazletine discussed the question more freely.
"There must be a half-dozen varmints or so in the mountains; they'vesneaked off the reservation and are hunting here without permission fromthe folks that have 'em in charge. It ain't likely they started out withany other idee than to have a little frolic of their own, meaning to goback when they was through; but, as I remarked afore, when an Injin seesa good chance to raise the mischief with just as good a chance of notbeing found out, he's pretty sartin to do it. Wal, things took such aqueer shape when you younkers and Motoza seen each other that all theugliness in him has come out, and that's what's urging him now."
"It seems to me, Hank, that if he meant to punish Fred for humiliatinghim, the method was simple."
"How?"
"By shooting him from ambush; he could do it without being seen, and Ican think of no way by which the guilt could be brought home to him."
"You're off
there. Motoza knows that you and me are in these parts, andthat we're the friends of the younker; what had took place afore, withwhat I'd swear to, would hang Motoza, and he knows it."
This declaration was not quite clear to Jack, but it sounded as if theguide was willing to so modify his testimony in court as to insure theconviction of the Sioux in case he followed the plan named by the youth.
The veteran would have considered it right, under the circumstances, todo such a thing.
"Since the fear of our testimony restrained him, why did he not seek toremove _us_ in the same manner, when he has had more than oneopportunity?"
"And there you're off again. Motoza wouldn't have had any trouble inwiping out two young tenderfeet like you, but he'd likely run agin asnag when he tried it on _me_!"
The hunter shut his lips and shook his head with eloquent earnestness.
"S'pose he'd done such a thing," he added, angrily; "don't you see thatwhen the Government larned, as it would be sure to larn, that threepersons had been killed near the reservation by some of the Injins,there would be the biggest kind of excitement? It would put its bestofficers at work, and never let up till everything was brought to light.You see that, Motoza not being the only Injin in these parts when thething was done, the officers would have some of the other varmints towork on, and they'd got the whole story from 'em, which would mean thehanging of the Sioux."
Jack saw the force of his friend's words. Even in this wild region,where one would naturally suppose he was beyond reach of the law, theman who committed a grave crime faced a serious risk. Certainly therewas much less danger in "removing" one person than three.
"As it is, Motoza has placed himself in a bad position, but it wouldhave been tenfold worse had he shot you and me."
Hank nodded his head, but qualified his assent:
"He could have picked you off, but not _me_, and he knows that he wouldhave had me on his trail without waiting for the officers to help."
"But he must face the same thing as it is."
"Don't you see that he had to make the ch'ice atween doing nothing atall or tackling the younker? The Sioux is such an imp and is so crazyfor revenge that he made up his mind to chance it the least he could,and he went for the tenderfoot that he hates the most."
Jack tremblingly asked the question that had been in his mind for someminutes.
"Do you think he shot Fred?"
The guide slowly turned his head and looked fixedly at the youth beforereplying:
"Wouldn't you've heerd his gun?"
The question sent a thrill of hope through the heart of Jack, but it wasquickly succeeded by the dull torture that was there before. True, hewould have heard the report of a rifle if fired anywhere near him duringthe afternoon, but a treacherous Sioux like Motoza was too cunning toexpose himself in that manner, and would have resorted to a differentmethod.
"He could have slain poor Fred in some other way, but do you believe hehas done so?"
"Younker," replied the sympathetic guide, "I ain't the one to triflewith your feelings, fur you don't feel much worse than me, but I own upthat I don't know anything more 'bout this bus'ness than you. I mean bythat," he hastened to explain, "that I can't figger out in my mind whatthat varmint has done till I pick up more knowledge than you've beenable to give me, and I can't do that afore to-morrow morning."
This sounded reasonable, but it was trying beyond imagination, for itindicated that the long night must be spent in idleness, without theraising of a finger to help the one who perhaps was in the most imminentneed of such assistance. There was no help, however, for it, and Jackaccepted the decision of his friend without a murmur.
The two sat at the mouth of the cavern, talking in low tones, until thenight was well advanced, when Hank said, with a voice that soundedwonderfully low and tender for him:
"Now go in and lay down, younker, fur there'll be plenty of work fur youto do to-morrer, and there's no saying when you'll git the chance tosleep agin."
"Call me when it is my turn to go on guard."
"All right; and don't show yourself till I _do_ call you."
Jack walked into the cavern, first pausing to fling some wood on thefire. Mingled with his feeling of despair was a dread of being alone inthe gloom. He did not believe he would sleep a wink through the night,for never were his emotions wrought to a more keenly torturing point. Itwas almost impossible to remain still, but he forced himself to liedown, with his heavy blanket gathered around him.
It would be distressing to dwell upon the anguish and grief of theyouth, as he lay wide awake, his brain alert and his blood atfever-heat. At times it all seemed so like a dream that he turned hishead to make sure Fred Greenwood, his loved chum and comrade, was notlying at his side. But no, it was all a dreadful reality, and he groanedin spirit.
As the minutes passed he appeared to grow more wakeful, until he was inas full possession of his faculties as when fleeing from the grizzlybear. And it was while lying thus, wondering what the hour could be,that he became aware that Hank Hazletine was standing at the mouth ofthe cavern, on the other side of the smouldering fire. The light wasreflected so clearly from his bearded face that it was seen distinctly,while the position of Jack, muffled in his blanket, threw his owncountenance in shadow, which prevented the guide seeing it clearly.
Something prompted Jack to lie still and feign sleep, while he kept hisgaze on the man, who was looking fixedly at him. Suddenly Hankpronounced his name in a low voice, repeating the call in a louder tone.He wished to learn whether his young friend was unconscious, and, sinceJack made no reply, must have concluded he was sleeping.
The guide next threw more wood on the blaze, which burned up so brightlythat the reflection reached far out on the grassy plateau. Then, with asingle glance at the prostrate figure, the hunter turned away, hisfootsteps as noiseless as if he were stepping on velvet.
Jack was mystified by the proceeding, but, suspecting its meaning, hearose from his hard couch and passed outside. The moon had not yetrisen, but the bright stars were in the sky, and shining with thebrilliancy that he had noticed and admired on the previous evening. Helooked around for Hazletine, and, not seeing him, imitated his action bypronouncing his name, but, as he suspected, he was not within hearing.
"He has gone off to make some investigations between now and morning. Iam glad of it, for he may learn something which he desires to know, andwhich he would never find out by staying here. I wish I could have gonewith him, but no doubt he will do better alone."
It was demonstrated, therefore, that the guide had violated the veryrule which he had impressed more than once upon his young friends, forhe had left Jack Dudley sound asleep, as he believed, without any onestanding sentinel over him. But it was because the circumstances were soexceptional and extraordinary that it justified such suspension of therules.
Jack did not hesitate to make himself as comfortable as the situationwould permit. He folded his blanket on the ground, and sat with his backagainst the very rock where he had fallen asleep the night before.
"No danger of my doing it again," he reflected; "and it wouldn't makeany difference if I did, since Hank believes I am dreaming."
Jack supposed he threw the wood on the flame to keep away the possibledanger from wild animals that might be prowling in the neighborhood;though, because of the reasons named, there was little to be apprehendedfrom them. The youth was so alive to the situation that he heard a coughfrom one of the ponies lying on the ground near the further side of theplateau, and beyond sight. Twice the watcher fancied he detected ashadowy figure stealing here and there in the gloom, and he grasped hisrifle, ready for instant use; but it must have been a mistake on hispart, for nothing materialized, and, curious as it may seem, he finallysank into a fitful slumber, which lasted a long time withoutinterruption.