CHAPTER XXIV.
A BRUSH WITH THE INDIANS.
"JUMP for it!" exclaimed Dacres.
Henri hesitated, then, prodding the engineer with his foot, gaveadditional warning of the threatened danger.
The fellow moved not a muscle. Thinking he had fainted through sheerfright, the Englishman grasped him under the arms and dropped him outon the ground. As he fell the Valderian rolled over on his face. Hewas stone dead: a bullet from the second aeroplane had pierced hisheart.
Looking over his shoulder Dacres ran, following his fleeter-footedcompanion.
"Lie down when I give the word," he exclaimed breathlessly. "Now--liedown."
Both men threw themselves flat upon the ground at eighty yards fromthe railroad.
The noise of the impact was deafening. The splintering of wood, theclang of iron, and the hiss of the water upon the scattered contentsof the furnace were outvoiced by the thud of the debris, which,hurled far and wide by the concussion, fell in showers about theprostrate survivors from the stolen locomotive.
Dacres rose to his feet. It was a bad enough smash, but he hadexpected it to be worse, for the trucks looked suspiciously similarto those left on the siding near Naocuanha. He felt convinced thathad the authorities at La Paz the means at their disposal they wouldnot have hesitated to dump a heap of dynamite cartridges into thetrucks to make a complete business of "wiping out" the two fugitives.
He realized that their position was far from enviable. The mere factof the attempt on the part of the Valderians at La Paz was sufficientto prove that Dacre's act of cutting the wires had failed to attainits desired object. The two comrades had a dangerous journey beforethem. Ill-equipped, ill-provisioned, and in an open country where theRepublican irregulars were practically certain to be in evidence,many perils would beset them ere they rejoined the "Meteor."
On the other hand, there was a chance that when the Valderian troopsarrived at the scene of the disaster they might come to theconclusion that the two fugitives were either killed in the collisionand buried under the debris, or else that they were blown to atoms inone of the two explosions caused by the head-long fall of thebiplanes. Taking this for granted, the Valderians might abandon thepursuit.
Again, Dacres and his companion had dealt the Republic a heavy blow.In addition to the loss of the two aeroplanes the railway trackbetween Naocuanha and La Paz had been torn up in two places, thedamage being beyond all chance of a speedy repair. In the event ofthe Valderians having to abandon the capital and fall back upon LaPaz, their retreat would be seriously impeded.
Having shared their scanty load of provisions the two comrades setout on their long and necessarily circuitous route towards theSierras. Fortunately the grass was dry and left little or noindication of their tracks. In places the plain was composed of mud,still moist from the recent rains. In crossing these patches Henrisuggested that they should walk backwards, so that should the fainttrail be followed through the grass the trackers would come to theconclusion that they had hit upon the route of two men walkingtowards the railway instead of from it. To heighten the deceptionDacres and his companion removed their boots when crossing theplastic mud. Their trail then resembled that of two Indians of theplains, who invariably go barefooted, although they mostly ride onhorseback.
Before nightfall they had put twelve miles between them and the placewhere they had made their compulsory landing from the locomotive.
"It is time to halt for the night," declared de la Fosse, pointing tothe sun, now about to dip beyond the horizon.
"Tired?" asked Dacres laconically.
"No, only we cannot see our way after dark."
"Is that all?" asked the Englishman. "If so we may as well carry onand sleep during the day. I can shape a course by the stars."
With the fall of night the temperature dropped rapidly. Thetravellers could well have done with the poncho or South Americancloak, for in spite of their steady progress the keen air of theuplands cut them like a knife. They were already footsore; the long,tough grass impeded them; they were unable to see the ruts in thehard ground; nevertheless, they toiled on, Dacres setting thedirection by means of the relative position of the Southern Cross.
"What is that glare in the sky?" asked Henri, stopping and pointingbehind him. Away to the west and close to the horizon a blurr of palelight flickered incessantly.
"Search light," replied Dacres.
"Where, then?"
"From the British fleet. On a clear night like this we can see theglare nearly a hundred miles away. Well, suppose we rest for half anhour and have some food?"
To this proposal Henri willingly assented. He was more done up thanhe would admit, but had gamely struggled to overcome fatigue and analmost irresistible desire for sleep.
Sitting back to back, as a mutual protection from the cold, the twomen ate and drank in silence. They dare not smoke, knowing that theflicker of a match or the glow of a cigarette might indicate theirpresence.
"Time," announced Dacres in a low voice.
It required a great effort for them to regain their feet. The coldhad numbed their weary limbs, and the Englishman was forced to cometo the unpleasant conclusion that the halt had done them more harmthan good.
On and on they trudged till the dawn. The Sierras, their snow-cladpeaks crimsoned by the rising sun long before the orb of day appearedabove the horizon, seemed as far off as they had on the previousnight.
"You sleep for a few hours," suggested Dacres after another scantyand unappetising repast. "I'll keep watch."
The young Frenchman protested, but in vain. His companion wasobdurate. With a quaint gesture of despair Henri stretched himselfupon the grass and was soon fast asleep, utterly worn out with hislong period of wakefulness.
Although Dacres was heavy-eyed he stoutly resisted the inclination toslumber. Very easily he could have shut his eyes and dozed while hewas standing. More than once his head fell upon his chest to theaccompaniment of a painful jerk of the back of his neck. Then with asudden start he would open his eyes and survey the seeminglyboundless expanse of waving grass in every direction, save where thedistant mountains reared themselves in solitary grandeur. For twohours he kept the tedious vigil, the rapidly increasing heat of thesun adding to his discomfort.
"What's that?" he muttered, as a number of small moving objects at adistance of at least two miles caught his attention.
He rubbed his eyes, thinking possibly that his sense of vision wasplaying him a trick. No, he was not mistaken. There was movement--themovement of horses and possibly horsemen.
Without attempting to awaken his comrade Dacres dropped on his kneesand watched. His sleepiness had temporarily vanished. He was now infull possession of his mental and bodily faculties.
"Horsemen, by Jove!" he muttered. "Indians probably. I'll keep wellout of sight and perhaps they will pass by at a safe distance."
The riders were approaching rapidly: not from the direction Dacresand his companion had come, but from the south-east. If theymaintained their present course they would pass about two hundredyards from the place where the travellers lay concealed.
Presently one of the riders reined up. His example was followed bythe rest of the group. They sat on their horses like living statues,awaiting their leader's orders.
The Englishman was right in his surmise. They were Indians of theplains, more than half savages, born horsemen and crafty fighters.Most of them were naked save for a piece of hide round their waistsand descending nearly to their knees. They were all armed with longknives, while, in addition, some carried spears of about ten feet inlength and others had bolas coiled up ready to throw at any moment.
They evidently were suspicious. It seemed incredible that even theirsharp eyes could detect the presence of the two men crouched in thelong grass, but Dacres came to the uncomfortable conclusion that theIndians were about to advance towards the spot where he and hiscompanion lay hidden.
Dacres grasped the sleeping Frenchman gently and firmly by the
hand.The pressure caused him to open his eyes and to become wide awakewithout a spasmodic start that would have inevitably betrayed them.
"Indians!" he whispered.
Henri rolled over, then quietly raising his head peered between twotall tufts of grass. Without replying he deliberately drew hisrevolver.
Presently the horsemen--there were eleven of of them--broke into twoparties and galloped towards the two Europeans, yet sufficientlyapart to pass within fifty yards on either side.
Still wondering how the Indians were aware of their hiding-place, andhoping against hope that such was not the case, the two comradesstill crouched in the grass; but in a very short time their doubtswere at an end, for having formed a complete cordon the horsemenbegan to gallop round and round and at the same time graduallyclosing in upon their quarry.
"Do not let them get close enough to throw their bolas," cautionedHenri, "or we shall be entangled and as helpless as rats in a trap."
"Back to back, then," said Dacres. "Don't fire unless it isabsolutely necessary."
The Indians had received warning in the night from one of theirnumber who had come across the strange trail. Knowing that the twomen were without horses--a rare occurrence on the plains--they cameto the right conclusion that the strangers were in difficulties.Thus, they decided, it would be an easy matter to kill them, robtheir bodies and bury them. The disappearance of two white men in acountry where murder is a common, everyday occurrence, would raiselittle or no comment on the part of the lax authorities of theValderian Republic.
Up sprang the two comrades, and steadying their revolvers in thecrook of the left arm, each aimed at the Indian nearest to him. Thecrowd, without slackening speed, increased the distance between themand their intended victims, shouting the while in a jargon of whichHenri, who could understand the language of his father's servants,failed to grasp the meaning.
After a while the Indians, who failed to understand why the two menrefrained from opening fire, began to contract their circularformation. They could only come to the conclusion that the strangers'ammunition was exhausted, and that they were merely pointing emptyweapons in the hope that the horsemen would beat a retreat.
Nevertheless, the attackers took ample precautions. Still keepingtheir horses at a hot pace, they threw themselves sideways out of thesaddle, holding on only by one foot thrown across the backs of theirsteeds. Thus, practically sheltered by their horses' bodies, theIndians presented no great target to the white men's weapons.
Dacres understood their tactics. The constant whirling of the livingcircle tended to daze the senses of the two men in the centre. TheIndians, having come within easy throwing distance, would hurl theirbolas, then rush in and complete their murderous work with their keenknives.
"Fire!" exclaimed Dacres.
Two shots rang out as one. The Englishman's bullet brought down ahorse, throwing its rider headlong and causing the animal immediatelybehind to stumble. As the Indian behind the second horse fell clearanother shot from Dacres settled his little account.
Henri's shot was equally fortunate. Apparently it hit one of theIndians in the thigh, for he dropped and lay still. The horseinstantly stopped, its fore legs thrust straight in front of it.Although untouched it remained by its master.
This totally unexpected welcome was more than the cowardly Indianscould stand. With wild shrieks they rode off at full gallop, leavingtwo of their number and three steeds on the scene of action.
"We will take that horse!" exclaimed Henri, pointing to the one thatremained by the body of its rider.
So saying he advanced cautiously so as not to affright the animal.Dacres, having recharged the empty chambers of his revolver, watchedthe proceedings. He did not feel at all capable of tackling a partlysavage animal.
The Indian to whom it belonged still lay on the grass, his bodyhuddled up and the long hide rope that served as a bridle and tethercombined grasped in his hand.
"Look out!" shouted Dacres.
The warning came a trifle too late. With a spring resembling that ofa jaguar the Indian threw himself upon the unsuspecting Frenchman,who had replaced his revolver in his holster.
In vain Henri leapt backwards and raised his left arm to ward off thestroke of the Indian's keen knife. The blade glittered in thesunlight. Even as it fell Dacres raised his revolver and fired.Although the distance between him and the Indian was a good twentyyards the Englishman's aim was true. Shot through the head the fellowdropped, writhed convulsively for a few seconds and then layquiet--as dead as the proverbial door-nail.
"Hold up, old man!" exclaimed Dacres encouragingly, but to his greatconsternation he saw his companion reel. Before he could get to himthe young Frenchman was lying on the ground close to the body of histreacherous assailant.
A rapidly darkening stain on Henri's shirt left no doubt as to thelocality of the wound. Deftly cutting away the cloth Dacres foundthat the knife, partially parried by de la Fosse's left arm, hadmissed his heart, but had made a fairly deep gash between the thirdand fourth ribs; while in addition there was a clean cut on hisforearm about four inches from the elbow.
Being without medical bandages and knowing that their scanty supplyof water was none too pure, Dacres was puzzled as to what was to bedone. Finally he tore the cleanest portions of his own shirt intolong strips and bound the wounds tightly, after allowing sufficienttime for the flow of blood to wash away any impurities that mighthave been communicated by the Indian's knife.
"Here's a pretty mess," muttered Dacres. "This is a fine way to lookafter Henri, after my promise to his father. Stranded miles fromanywhere, in a hostile country, and with a wounded man to look after.A nice out look, by Jove! but it might be worse."