CHAPTER IV.
VISITORS OF THE NIGHT.
It takes a good deal to startle an American Indian, but if there everwas a frightened red man it was the one who heard himself thusaddressed, and, glancing like a flash to his right, saw Jack Dudley stepforward, with a Winchester rifle leveled at him.
In the language of the West, the youth "had the drop" on the intruder,and he knew it. Had he attempted to raise his own weapon, or to draw hisknife and assail the youth, that instant the trigger of the rifle wouldhave been pressed and the career of the buck would have ended then andthere, and he knew that, too; but the fact that the gun was not fired,and that a direct question was addressed to him, told the Indian thathis master was less merciless than he would have been had theirsituations been reversed.
The camp-fire was still burning brightly, and the reflection showed onthe painted visage. Jack, having stepped forward into the circle oflight, was also plainly discerned by the Indian, who, turning his black,serpent-like eyes upon him, said, without a tremor in his voice:
"Me good Injin; me friend of white man; me no hurt him."
"It doesn't look as if you would; but what is your business? Why do yousteal into our camp like a thief of the night?"
"Me hungry--want somethin' eat."
This was too transparent a subterfuge to deceive one even sounaccustomed to life in these solitudes as Jack Dudley. An Indianwandering through a country so well stocked with game as this portion ofthe new State of Wyoming never suffers for food; and, were such a thingpossible, the present means was the last that he would adopt to procureit.
"If you want something to eat, why did you not come forward openly andask for it?"
The fellow did not seem fully to grasp the question, but he repeated:
"Me hungry."
Jack recalled that there was not a mouthful of food in camp. Had therebeen, he probably would have invited the visitor to walk to the fire andpartake. It was fortunate for the youth that their larder was empty, forhad the two started among the trees in the direction of the camp, theopportunity for which the Indian was doubtless waiting would have beensecured. There would have been an interval in the brief walk when theadvantage would have been shifted to him, and he would have seized itwith the quickness of lightning.
The manifest duty of Jack was to shout to Hank Hazletine and bring himto the spot. He would read the truth on the instant and do the rightthing; but the situation, as the reader will admit, was peculiar, andthe motive which prevented the youth from adopting this line of actionwas creditable to him. He believed that the moment the guide appeared hewould shoot the intruder, and that was too frightful an issue for Jackto contemplate. He did not want this warrior's life, and would not takeit except to save his own or that of his friends.
Jack believed that enough had been gained in thoroughly frightening theIndian, and the thing desired now was to get rid of him with the leastpossible delay. He did not think he would intrude again, even if he hadcompanions within call.
"We have no food; we can give you nothing; you must go elsewhere."
"Then me go;" and, as if the business was concluded, the buck turnedabout and began walking toward the edge of the grove. Yielding to a whimwhich he did not fully understand, Jack Dudley followed him with thewarning words:
"If you stop, or turn about, or make a move to shoot, I will kill you."
It is probable that the savage contemplated some movement of the kind,but he must have known the fatal risk involved. Quick as he was, hecould not whirl about and bring his gun to a level before the young manwould pull the trigger of the Winchester, which was held pointed towardhim. He knew that so long as he obeyed orders he would be unharmed, andhe would have been a zany had he hesitated to do so.
He did not hesitate, but with a deliberate step that was not lacking ina certain dignity he walked slowly between the trees, with his captoronly a few paces behind and keeping pace with him.
Almost on the edge of the grove Jack Dudley made an interestingdiscovery. A pony, smaller than the one he had ridden from Fort Steele,stood motionless in the shadow, awaiting the return of his master. Hewas not tethered or tied, for he was too well-trained to make thatnecessary. He showed his fine training further by merely pricking hisears and elevating his head upon the approach of his master andcompanion. A whinny or neigh might have betrayed both.
The two were now so far removed from the glow of the camp-fire that theycould see each other only dimly. There was no moon in the sky, thoughthe stars were shining brightly. The Indian, from the force ofcircumstances, was compelled to hold his disadvantageous position,inasmuch as he had to move out from among the trees, while Jack remainedwithin their shadows.
Realizing that this was a critical moment, he stood motionless, with hisweapon still at a dead level.
"My gun is aimed at your heart," he said, "and I am watching everymovement you make. Go in peace, and you shall not be harmed, but on yourfirst attempt to injure me you die."
The words, perhaps, were unnecessary, for it may be said that the actionof the youth was more eloquent. Be that as it may, the redskin showed acommendable promptness in all that he did. He vaulted lightly upon thebare back of his pony, whose bridle consisted of but a single thong, andturned the head of the brute outward. He did not speak, for it was notrequired. The pony knew what was wanted; and, with his nose pointed outon the prairie, he emerged from among the trees into the open, with thewarrior astride.
Even in that trying moment Jack Dudley was surprised at one fact--thatwas the wonderful silence of the animal. It would seem that his hoofsshould have given out sounds that could have been heard for aconsiderable distance in the stillness of the night, but it was as if hewere treading on velvet. The noise was so faint that it was easy tounderstand how he had come to the spot without betraying himself to theintently listening sentinel. No wonder that the Indian ponies sometimesdisplay a sagacity fully equal, in some respects, to that of theirmasters.
The Indian showed in another direction his perception of the situation.Had he been leaving the presence of one of his own race, or of a veteranwhite scout, he would have thrown himself forward on the back of hisanimal and ridden off on a dead run, for, despite the unexpected mercyshown him, he would have expected treachery at the last minute; but hehad seen his master and knew that he was a young tenderfoot, inspired bya chivalrous honor which is the exception in that section of thecountry. He would not shoot until good cause was given, and therefore hetook care not to give such cause.
As if in harmony with the spirit of his rider, the pony walked away in adirect line, until the figure of himself and master disappeared in thegloom. When he could see him no more, Jack lowered his gun, and stoopingdown, pressed his ear against the earth. He could hear the softhoof-beats of the horse growing fainter and fainter, until at the end ofa minute or two the impressive silence once more held reign. Then theyouth arose to his feet.
"I suppose Hank will tell me I did wrong," he mused, "but my consciencedoes not; it would be a woeful memory to carry with me that on my firstnight in Wyoming I took the life of a human being. Perhaps it will be aswell that Hank should not know it; I will think it over."
Now, while Jack Dudley had conducted himself in some respects like aveteran, yet he had shown a dangerous short-sightedness in anotherdirection. It will be noted that he had busied himself wholly with thesingle intruder, and at the moment of losing sight of him the young manwas a comparatively long distance from the camp-fire. Had it been thatthere were two or more hostiles stealing into camp, they could not haveasked a better opportunity, for it was left wholly unguarded. A singlewarrior would have had no trouble in creeping undiscovered to a pointfrom which he could have sent a bullet through the unconscious forms ofHank Hazletine and Fred Greenwood. This probability never occurred toJack until he started on his return to the fire, from whose immediatevicinity he should never have allowed himself to have been tempted.
Even then his strange remissness would not have impressed
itself uponhim but for a startling discovery. The fire was beginning to smoulderonce more, but enough of its glare penetrated the wood for him to notethe black, column-like trunks of the trees between it and him. With hisgaze upon the central point, he saw a figure moving in the path of lightand coming toward him. It looked as if stamped in ink against the yellowbackground, and, like the former intruder, was advancing without noise.
An awful fear thrilled Jack Dudley as he abruptly halted and partlyraised his Winchester.
"While I have been busy with one Indian, another has entered the campand slain Fred and Hank! He is now after me! There will be no hesitation_this_ time in my shooting!"
Before he could secure anything like an aim, the other stepped behindone of the trunks on his right. Jack waited for him to reappear, readyto fire, but unwilling to do so until the truth was established.
While waiting thus, a low, faint, tremulous whistle reached his ears. Itwas the most welcome of all sounds, and raised him from the depths ofwoe to blissful happiness, for it was the familiar signal of FredGreenwood that had been employed many times in their hunting excursionsnearer home.
Instead of an enemy, it was his chum and dearest friend who wasapproaching him. Jack instantly answered the guarded hail, and the nextminute the two came together.
"How is it you are awake?" was the first question of Jack.
"Because it is _time_ for me to awake; it was agreed that I should go onduty at a little after twelve, and it must be near one o'clock."
"But what awoke you?"
"Nonsense! Haven't you and I travelled together long enough to know thatwhen you go to sleep with your mind fixed on a certain time to awake youare sure not to miss it by more than a few minutes?"
"You are right; I had forgotten that. How was it you knew where to lookfor me?"
"I didn't. I've been prowling around camp for fifteen minutes, gropinghere and there and signaling to you, without the first inkling of whereyou were. I didn't want to awake Hank, and therefore was as careful as Icould be. I began to suspect you had sat down somewhere and fallenasleep."
"I have had enough to keep the most drowsy person awake."
And thereupon Jack gave the particulars of all that had occurred whilehe was acting as sentinel. It need not be said that Fred Greenwood wasastonished, for the manner of their guide before lying down convincedthem that no danger of any nature threatened them.
"Do you think I acted right, Fred?"
"Most certainly you did. Hank and the like of him out in this countrytalk about shooting down an Indian as if he were not a human being, butthey have souls like the rest of us, and we have no more right to takethe life of one of them than I have to take yours. I am sure I shouldhave done just as you did."
"I am glad to hear you say that. I wonder whether, if we stayed out herea few years, our feelings would change?"
"No; for the principle of right and wrong cannot change. Do you rememberwhat that old settler told us on the train, a couple of days ago?"
"I do not recall it."
"He said that at a little town in Montana they had a great moralquestion under debate for a long time without being able to decide it.It was whether it was wicked for the men to go out hunting for Indianson Sunday. It was all right on week days, but most of the folks seemedto think it was a violation of the sanctity of the day to indulge in thesport on the Sabbath. But, Jack, you are tired and in need of sleep.I'll take charge of matters until two o'clock."
"I wonder whether anything will happen to you? It does not seem likely,for I must have given that fellow such a scare that he will not showhimself again."
"But you mustn't reason on the basis that he is the only red man inWyoming. However, I shall do my best. Good-night."
Thus summarily dismissed, Jack returned to the camp-fire in quest of theslumber which he needed. Fred had thrown additional wood on the blaze,and that accounted for the increase in illumination. Hank Hazletine didnot seem to have stirred since lying down. He breathed heavily, anddoubtless was gaining the rest which men of his habits and training knowhow to acquire under the most unfavorable circumstances. The youthwrapped his blanket about his figure, for he was now sensible that theair was colder than at any time since leaving the railway station. Hewas nervous over the recollection of his experience, though it wouldhave been deemed of slight importance to one who had spent his life inthe West. The feeling soon passed off, however, and he joined theveteran in the land of dreams.
And thus the burden of responsibility was shifted to the shoulders ofFred Greenwood, the junior by a few months of Jack Dudley. No one couldhave been more deeply impressed with his responsibility than Fred. Heknew that a hostile red man had entered the grove while two of the partywere asleep, and, but for the watchfulness of the sentinel, might haveslain all three.
"I don't know much about Indians," reflected Fred, "but I have been toldthat they are a revengeful people. That fellow must be angered becausehe was outwitted by Jack, and it will be just like him to steal back forthe purpose of revenge. It won't do for me to wink both eyes at the sametime."
This was a wise resolution, and the youth took every precaution againstcommitting what was likely to be a fatal mistake. Although his sleep wasbroken, and he could have consumed several hours additional withenjoyment, he was never more wide-awake. The temptation was strong tosit down on the ground with his back against a tree, but he foresaw theconsequences. The man who yields only for a few minutes to the creepingdrowsiness is gone.
Fred was more circumspect, even, than his chum. Instead of taking hisposition beside the trunk of one of the trees, he walked silently aroundin a circle, keeping the camp-fire as a centre. By this means he notonly kept his senses keyed to a high point, but made his espionagenearer perfect than his friend had done.
That the night was not to pass without a stirring experience to theyounger lad was soon evident. As nearly as he could guess, withoutconsulting his watch, it was about one o'clock, when he became awarethat some person or animal was astir in the grove. He heard the faintfootfalls on the ground, though for a time he was unable to catch somuch as a shadowy glimpse of the intruder.
"I believe it is that Indian, who has come back to square accounts withJack for getting the better of him. The wisest thing for me to do is tonot allow him to see me."
This was wise; and, to prevent such a disaster, Fred adopted the precisetactics that had been used by his friend. He stationed himself beside afriendly trunk, which so interposed between himself and the fire that hewas invisible, no matter from what direction approached. Standing thus,he peered into the surrounding gloom and listened with all the intensityof which he was capable.
Suddenly he caught a glimpse of the intruder. The relief was unspeakablewhen he saw that it was not an Indian, but some kind of a wild animal.It was but a short distance off, and between him and the outer edge ofthe grove.
There being no one to replenish the fire, the light had grown dimmer,but a quick, shadowy flitting told Fred the brute was moving brisklyabout, only a few paces from where the lad was straining his vision tolearn its nature.
"We might as well wind up this business," reflected Fred, as, with hishand on the trigger of his Winchester, he started abruptly in thedirection of the stranger. The latter was quick to perceive him andwhisked away. The lad followed, breaking into a trot despite theintervening trees. The beast continued fleeing, for nothing sodisconcerts an animal as the threatening approach of a foe.
It was but a few paces to the edge of the timber, when the brute leapedout into full view in the star-gleam.
One glance was sufficient for the youth to recognize it as an immensewolf, which had probably been drawn to the spot by the odor of the meatthat composed the dinner of the party. Fifty feet off the wolf stopped,turned partly about, and looked back at his pursuer, as if to learnwhether he intended to follow him farther.
Fred did not, but the opportunity was too good to be lost. The aim wasinviting, and, bringing his rifle to his shoulder, he
sighted as best hecould and pulled the trigger. He could not have done better had the sunbeen shining. The bullet passed directly through the skull of the wolf,which uttered a sharp yelp, leaped several feet into the air, and,doubling up like a jack-knife, fell upon his side, where, after severalconvulsive struggles, he lay still.
Naturally enough, the boy was elated over his success, for the shot wascertainly an excellent one.
"There!" he said. "Jack frightened off the Indians, and I think I havegiven the wild animals a good lesson. At any rate, _you_ won't bother usany more."
He supposed that the report of the gun would awaken Hazletine and bringhim to the spot to learn the explanation, but nothing of that naturefollowed. If the report disturbed him, he merely opened and closed hiseyes, and continued to slumber, after the manner of one who appreciatesthe value of rest.
In truth, it was always a matter of wonderment to the boys that theirveteran guide adopted the course he followed that night. That actualdanger impended was proven by the incidents already narrated, and yet heentrusted the safety of one of the boys, as well as his own life, toanother, who, until then, had never been in a similar position. Why hedid so would be hard to explain, but he never admitted that his coursewas a mistake. Sometimes, as is well known, a boy is taught to swim byflinging him into deep water, where he must choose between keepingafloat and drowning; and it may be the guide believed that, by tossinghis young friends into the midst of danger at the very beginning oftheir experience as Western hunters, they would acquire the needed skillthe more quickly.