CHAPTER FORTY.
THE FIGHT IN THE PASS.
We entered the woods, and followed the Indian trail up stream. Wehurried forward as fast as the atajo could be driven. A scramble offive miles brought us to the eastern end of the valley. Here thesierras impinged upon the river, forming a canon. It was a grim gap,similar to that we had passed on entering from the west, but still morefearful in its features. Unlike the former, there was no road over themountains on either side. The valley was headed in by precipitouscliffs, and the trail lay through the canon, up the bed of the stream.The latter was shallow. During freshets it became a torrent; and thenthe valley was inaccessible from the east, but that was a rareoccurrence in these rainless regions.
We entered the canon without halting, and galloped over the detritus,and round huge boulders that lay in its bed. Far above us rose thefrowning cliffs, thousands of feet overhead. Great rocks scarped out,abutting over the stream; shaggy pines hung top downward, clinging intheir seams; shapeless bunches of cacti and mezcals crawled along thecliffs, their picturesque but gloomy foliage adding to the wildness ofthe scene.
It was dark within the pass, from the shadow of the jutting masses; butnow darker than usual, for black storm-clouds were swathing the cliffsoverhead. Through these, at short intervals, the lightning forked andflashed, glancing in the water at our feet. The thunder, in quick,sharp percussions, broke over the ravine; but as yet it rained not.
We plunged hurriedly through the shallow stream, following the guide.There were places not without danger, where the water swept aroundangles of the cliff with an impetuosity that almost lifted our horsesfrom their feet; but we had no choice, and we scrambled on, urging ouranimals with voice and spur.
After riding for a distance of several hundred yards, we reached thehead of the canon and climbed out on the bank.
"Now, cap'n," cried the guide, reining up, and pointing to the entrance,"hyur's yur place to make stand. We kin keep them back till thur sicki' the guts; that's what we kin do."
"You are sure there is no pass that leads out but this one?"
"Ne'er a crack that a cat kud get out at; that ur, 'ceptin' they go backby the other eend; an' that'll take them a round-about o' two days, Ireckin."
"We will defend this, then. Dismount, men! Throw yourselves behind therocks!"
"If 'ee take my advice, cap, I'd let the mules and weemen keep for'ard,with a lot o' the men to look arter 'em; them that's ridin' the meanestcritters. It'll be nose an' tail when we do go; and if they starts now,yur see wa kin easy catch up with 'em t'other side o' the parairar."
"You are right, Rube! We cannot stay long here. Our provisions willgive out. They must move ahead. Is that mountain near the line of ourcourse, think you?"
As Seguin spoke, he pointed to a snow-crowned peak that towered over theplain, far off to the eastward.
"The trail we oughter take for the ole mine passes clost by it, cap'n.To the south'art o' yon snowy, thur's a pass; it's the way I got clurmyself."
"Very well; the party can take the mountain for their guide. I willdespatch them at once."
About twenty men, who rode the poorest horses, were selected from theband. These, guarding the atajo and captives, immediately set out androde off in the direction of the snowy mountain. El Sol went with thisparty, in charge of Dacoma and the daughter of our chief. The rest ofus prepared to defend the pass.
Our horses were tied in a defile; and we took our stands where we couldcommand the embouchure of the canon with our rifles.
We waited in silence for the approaching foe. As yet no war-whoop hadreached us; but we knew that our pursuers could not be far off; and weknelt behind the rocks, straining our eyes down the dark ravine.
It is difficult to give an idea of our position by the pen. The groundwe had selected as the point of defence was unique in its formation, andnot easily described; yet it is necessary you should know something ofits peculiar character in order to comprehend what followed.
The stream, after meandering over a shallow, shingly channel, enteredthe canon through a vast gate-like gap, between two giant portals. Oneof these was the abrupt ending of the granite ridge, the other adetached mass of stratified rock. Below this gate the channel widenedfor a hundred yards or so, where its bed was covered with loose bouldersand logs of drift timber. Still farther down, the cliffs approachedeach other, so near that only two horsemen could ride between themabreast; and beyond this the channel again widened, and the bed of thestream was filled with rocks, huge fragments that had fallen from themountain.
The place we occupied was among the rocks and drift, within the canon,and below the great gap which formed its mouth. We had chosen theposition from necessity, at at this point the bank shelved out andoffered a way to the open country, by which our pursuers could outflankus, should we allow them to get so far up. It was necessary, therefore,to prevent this; and we placed ourselves to defend the lower or secondnarrowing of the channel. We knew that below that point beetling cliffswalled in the stream on both sides, so that it would be impossible forthem to ascend out of its bed. If we could restrain them from making arush at the shelving bank, we would have them penned up from any fartheradvance. They could only flank our position by returning to the valley,and going about by the western end, a distance of fifty miles at theleast. At all events, we should hold them in check until the atajo hadgot a long start; and then, trusting to our horses, we intended tofollow it in the night. We knew that in the end we should have toabandon the defence, as the want of provisions would not allow us tohold out for any length of time.
At the command of our leader we had thrown ourselves among the rocks.The thunder was now pealing over our heads, and reverberating throughthe canon. Black clouds rolled along the cliffs, split and torn bybrilliant jets. Big drops, still falling thinly, slapped down upon thestones.
As Seguin had told me, rain, thunder, and lightning are rare phenomenain these regions; but when they do occur, it is with that violence whichcharacterises the storms of the tropics. The elements, escaping fromtheir wonted continence, rage in fiercer war. The long-gatheringelectricity, suddenly displaced from its equilibrium, seems to revel inhavoc, rending asunder the harmonies of nature.
The eye of the geognosist, in scanning the features of this plateauland, could not be mistaken in the character of its atmosphere. Thedread canons, the deep barrancas, the broken banks of streams, and theclay-cut channels of the arroyos, all testified that we were in a landof sudden floods.
Away to the east, towards the head waters of the river, we could seethat the storm was raging in its full fury. The mountains in thatdirection were no longer visible. Thick rain-clouds were descendingupon them, and we could hear the sough of the falling water. We knewthat it would soon be upon us.
"What's keepin' them anyhow?" inquired a voice.
Our pursuers had time to have been up. The delay was unexpected.
"The Lord only knows!" answered another. "I s'pose thar puttin' on afresh coat o' paint at the town."
"They'll get their paint washed off, I reckin. Look to yer primin',hosses! that's my advice."
"By gosh! it's a-goin' to come down in spouts."
"That's the game, boyees! hooray for that!" cried old Rube.
"Why? Do you want to git soaked, old case?"
"That's adzactly what this child wants."
"Well, it's more 'n I do. I'd like to know what ye want to git wet for.Do ye wish to put your old carcass into an agey?"
"If it rains two hours, do 'ee see," continued Rube, without payingattention to the last interrogatory, "we needn't stay hyur, do 'ee see?"
"Why not, Rube?" inquired Seguin, with interest.
"Why, cap," replied the guide, "I've seed a skift o' a shower make thishyur crick that 'ee wudn't care to wade it. Hooray! it ur a-comin',sure enuf! Hooray!"
As the trapper uttered these exclamations, a vast black cloud camerolling down from the east, until its giant winds can
opied the defile.It was filled with rumbling thunder, breaking at intervals into louderpercussions, as the red bolts passed hissing through it. From thiscloud the rain fell, not in drops, but, as the hunter had predicted, in"spouts."
The men, hastily throwing the skirts of their hunting shirts over theirgun-locks, remained silent under the pelting of the storm.
Another sound, heard between the peals, now called our attention. Itresembled the continuous noise of a train of waggons passing along agravelly road. It was the sound of hoof-strokes on the shingly bed ofthe canon. It was the horse-tread of the approaching Navajoes!
Suddenly it ceased. They had halted. For what purpose? Perhaps toreconnoitre.
This conjecture proved to be correct; for in a few moments a small redobject appeared over a distant rock. It was the forehead of an Indianwith its vermilion paint. It was too distant for the range of a rifle,and the hunters watched it without moving.
Soon another appeared, and another, and then a number of dark forms wereseen lurking from rock to rock, as they advanced up the canon. Ourpursuers had dismounted, and were approaching us on foot.
Our faces were concealed by the "wrack" that covered the stones; and theIndians had not yet discovered us. They were evidently in doubt as towhether we had gone on, and this was their vanguard making the necessaryreconnaissance.
In a short time the foremost, by starts and runs, had got close up tothe narrow part of the canon. There was a boulder below this point, andthe upper part of the Indian's head showed itself for an instant overthe rock. At the same instant half a dozen rifles cracked; the headdisappeared; and, the moment after, an object was seen down upon thepebbles, at the base of the boulder. It was the brown arm of thesavage, lying palm upward. We knew that the leaden messengers had donetheir work.
The pursuers, though at the expense of one of their number, had nowascertained the fact of our presence, as well as our position; and theadvanced party were seen retreating as they had approached.
The men who had fired reloaded their pieces, and, kneeling down asbefore, watched with sharp eyes and cocked rifles.
It was a long time before we heard anything more of the enemy; but weknew that they were deliberating on some plan of attack.
There was but one way by which they could defeat us: by charging up thecanon, and fighting us hand-to-hand. By an attack of this kind theirmain loss would be in the first volley. They might ride upon us beforewe could reload; and, far outnumbering us, would soon decide the daywith their long lances. We knew all this; but we knew, too, that afirst volley, when well delivered, invariably staggers an Indian charge,and we relied on such a hope for our safety.
We had arranged to fire by platoons, and thus have the advantage of asecond discharge, should the Indians not retreat at the first.
For nearly an hour the hunters crouched under the drenching rain,looking only to keep dry the locks of their pieces. The water, in muddyrivulets, began to trickle through the shingle, and eddying around therocks, covered the wide channel in which we now stood, ankle-deep. Bothabove and below us, the stream, gathered up by the narrowing of thechannel, was running with considerable velocity.
The sun had set, at least it seemed so, in the dismal ravine where wewere. We were growing impatient for the appearance of our enemy.
"Perhaps they have gone round," suggested one.
"No; thar a-waitin' till night. They'll try it then."
"Let 'em wait, then," muttered Rube, "ef thur green enuf. A half anhour more'll do; or this child don't understan' weather signs."
"Hist! hist!" cried several voices together. "See; they are coming!"
All eyes were bent down the pass. A crowd of dark objects appeared inthe distance, filling up the bed of the stream. They were the Indians,and on horseback. We knew from this that they were about to make adash. Their movements, too, confirmed it. They had formed two deep,and held their bows ready to deliver a flight of arrows as they gallopedup.
"Look out, boyees!" cried Rube; "thur a-comin' now in airnest. Look toyur sights, and give 'em gos; do 'ee hear?"
As the trapper spoke, two hundred voices broke into a simultaneous yell.It was the war-cry of the Navajoes!
As its vengeful notes rang upon the canon, they were answered by loudcheers from the hunters, mingled with the wild whoops of their Delawareand Shawano allies.
The Indians halted for a moment beyond the narrowing of the canon, untilthose who were rearmost should close up. Then, uttering another cry,they dashed forward into the gap.
So sudden was their charge that several of them had got fairly throughbefore a shot was fired. Then came the reports of the guns; the crack--crack--crack of rifles; the louder detonations of the Spanish pieces,mingled with the whizzing sound of Indian arrows. Shouts ofencouragement and defiance were given on both sides; and groans wereheard, as the grooved bullet or the poisoned barb tore up the yieldingflesh.
Several of the Indians had fallen at the first volley. A number hadridden forward to the spot of our ambush, and fired their arrows in ourfaces. But our rifles had not all been emptied; and these daringsavages were seen to drop from their saddles at the straggling andsuccessive reports.
The main body wheeled behind the rocks, and were now forming for asecond charge. This was the moment of danger. Our guns were idle, andwe could not prevent them from passing the gap, and getting through tothe open country.
I saw Seguin draw his pistol, and rush forward, calling upon those whowere similarly armed to follow his example. We ran after our leaderdown to the very jaws of the canon, and stood waiting the charge.
It was soon to come; for the enemy, exasperated by many circumstances,were determined on our destruction, cost what it might. Again we heardtheir fierce war-cry, and amidst its wild echoes the savages camegalloping into the gap.
"Now's yur time," cried a voice; "fire! Hooray!"
The cracks of fifty pistols were almost simultaneous. The foremosthorses reared up and fell back, kicking and sprawling in the gap. Theyfell, as it were, in a body, completely choking up the channel. Thosewho came on behind urged their animals forward. Some stumbled on theheap of fallen bodies. Their horses rose and fell again, trampling bothdead and living among their feet. Some struggled over and fought uswith their lances. We struck back with our clubbed guns, and closedupon them with our knives and tomahawks.
The stream rose and foamed against the rocks, pent back by the prostrateanimals. We fought thigh-deep in the gathering flood. The thunderroared overhead, and the lightning flashed in our faces, as though theelements took part in the conflict!
The yelling continued wild and vengeful as ever. The hunters answeredit with fierce shouts. Oaths flew from foaming lips, and men grappledin the embrace that ended only in death!
And now the water, gathered into a deep dam, lifted the bodies of theanimals that had hitherto obstructed it, and swept them out of the gap.The whole force of the enemy would be upon us. Good heavens! they arecrowding up, and our guns are empty!
At this moment a new sound echoed in our ears. It was not the shouts ofmen, nor the detonation of guns, nor the pealing of the thunder. It wasthe hoarse roaring: of the torrent!
A warning cry was heard behind us. A voice called out: "Run for yourlives! To the bank! to the bank!"
I turned, and beheld my companions rushing for the slope, uttering wordsof terror and caution. At the same instant my eye became fixed upon anapproaching object. Not twenty yards above where I stood, and justentering the canon, came a brown and foaming mass. It was water,bearing on its crested front huge logs of drift and the torn branches oftrees. It seemed as though the sluice of some great dam had beensuddenly carried away, and this was the first gush of the escapingflood!
As I looked it struck the portals of the canon with a concussion likethunder, and then, rearing back, piled up to a height of twenty feet.The next moment it came surging through the gap.
I heard their terrified cry as the I
ndians wheeled their horses andfled. I ran for the bank, followed by my companions. I was impeded bythe water, which already reached to my thighs; but with desperate energyI plunged and weltered through it, till I had gained a point of safety.
I had hardly climbed out when the torrent rolled past with a hissing,seething sound. I stood to observe it. From where I was I could seedown the ravine for a long reach. The Indians were already in fullgallop, and I saw the tails of their hindmost horses just disappearinground the rocks.
The bodies of the dead and wounded were still lying in the channel.There were hunters as well as Indians. The wounded screamed as they sawthe coming flood. Those who had been our comrades called to us forhelp; we could do nothing to save them. Their cries had hardly reachedus when they were lifted upon the crest of the whirling current, like somany feathers, and carried off with the velocity of projectiles!
"Thar's three good fellows gone under! Wagh!"
"Who are they?" asked Seguin, and the men turned round with inquiringlooks.
"Thar's one Delaware, and big Jim Harris, and--"
"Who is the third man that's missing? Can anyone tell?"
"I think, captain, it's Kirker."
"It is Kirker, by the 'tarnal! I seed him down. Wagh! They'll lifthis har to a sartinty."
"Ay, they'll fish him out below. That's a sure case."
"They'll fish out a good haul o' thur own, I reckin. It'll be a tightrace, anyhow. I've heern o' a horse runnin' agin a thunder shower; butthem niggurs 'll make good time, if thur tails ain't wet afore they gitt'other eend--they will."
As the trapper spoke, the floating and still struggling bodies of hiscomrades were carried to a bend in the canon, and whirled out of sight.The channel was now filled with the foaming yellow flood that frothedagainst the rocks as it forged onward.
Our danger was over for the time. The canon had become impassable; and,after gazing for a while upon the torrent, most of us with feelings ofawe, we turned away, and walked toward the spot where we had left ourhorses.