Frank in the Mountains
CHAPTER XIV.
A RIDE FOR LIFE.
Archie had a plan to propose to the wagon-master, and that was that thetrain should be conducted first to the Old Bear's Hole, and then to FortBenton. He thought this would be much safer than to attempt a longjourney across the plains. The Indians would certainly pass over thatroad in going from their camp to attack the settlers on the prairie; andit was equally certain that they would discover and follow the trailleft by the wagons. If the emigrants were overtaken in the open country,they could offer but a feeble resistance; but if they intrenchedthemselves in the cave, they could hold any number of their foes at bay.Archie explained this plan to the captain when he found him, and, to hisutter amazement, it was rejected without an instant's hesitation.
"I've done nothing but lead wagon trains across these prairies for thelast two years," said the man. "I've made a business of it; but I neverbefore heard any thing about Indians on the war trail. You've well-nighfrightened the whole train to death by your cock-and-a-bull story; and,since the emigrants are bound to turn back, I shall take them to FortAlexander."
"Why, that's farther off than Fort Benton!" exclaimed Archie. "It mustbe two hundred miles from here."
"No difference if it's a thousand. I don't know the way to Benton, but Icould go to Alexander if I was blindfolded. And another thing: wouldn'tI look well trusting my own life, and the lives of these people, to aboy like you! I don't believe you ever saw an Indian."
"I've seen more of them than you ever did," replied Archie, indignantly,"and I have had more experience with them, if I am from the States. Markmy words: Before morning, you will wish you had taken my advice."
Archie left the captain and fell back to the wagon of the invalid. "Iam much obliged to you, sir, for the use of your horse and rifle," saidhe, "but I must return them now. The wagon-master is about to undertakea journey of two hundred miles across the prairie; and, as I don't thinkit a safe piece of business, I am going to leave the train and start offon my own hook."
"Hold on!" exclaimed the man, as Archie dismounted to tie the horse tothe wagon. "Where are you going?"
Archie unfolded his plan again for the benefit of the invalid, addingthat, as the wagon-master had not seen fit to adopt it, it was hisintention to go alone to the Old Bear's Hole, and, if he did not findDick and Bob there, to strike for Fort Benton. The invalid listenedattentively, and, when the boy ceased speaking, announced that it washis determination to accompany him. This was something that Archie hadnot counted on, and he did not know whether to be disappointed ordelighted. The prospect of a lonely journey of ninety miles, through acountry infested with hostile Indians, even though there was a barepossibility that he might meet the trappers at the Old Bear's Hole, wasby no means a cheering one; and he would have been glad of almost anycompany except this invalid. If the latter accompanied him, he would, ofcourse, go in his wagon, and that was an arrangement the boy did notlike. Its white cover could be seen at a long distance, dark as it was,and if there were any Indians about it would be certain to attract theirattention, in which case Archie, to save his own life, would be obligedto leave the helpless emigrant to shift for himself.
"You will let me go with you?" said the invalid, seeing that Archiehesitated.
"That is a matter which you must decide, sir," was the reply. "I do notexpect to reach the fort without trouble; and whether or not you will besafer with me than with the train, is a question which I can not takethe responsibility of answering."
"I will answer it for myself: I shall go with you."
Upon hearing this, the invalid's teamster, who had sat listening to theconversation, pulled up his horses with a jerk, and, hastily collectingthe articles in the wagon which belonged to him, jumped to the ground.
"What's the matter out there?" asked the owner of the wagon. "Why don'tyou go on?"
"'Cause I am done with you; that's why," replied the teamster, gruffly."If you are goin' into any sich business as this--philanderin' off overthe prairy with that fool of a boy, who will lose you an' himself intothe bargain in less'n twenty minutes arter you git out of sight of thetrain--you can jest drive your own wagon. I am goin' to stay with theemigrants, where I know I am safe."
Every little trouble seems a mountain to a sick person, and when theinvalid heard this, he covered his face with his hands and cried like achild. As the teamster was about to move off, he looked up and said,piteously:
"Mike, don't leave me. Remember that I can't help myself, and that Imust have some one to defend me if we get into trouble."
"I reckon my life is worth as much to me as your'n is to you," was therejoinder.
"Don't go yet, Mike; hear what I have to say," continued the invalid. "Ihave twenty thousand dollars in hard money in this wagon, and if youwill go with me, and stick to me until we reach Fort Benton, I will giveyou one-fourth of it--five thousand dollars. You will certainly run lessrisk in traveling ninety miles than in going two hundred."
The teamster stopped, and, walking slowly back to the wagon, looked downat the ground in a brown study. Archie, who had watched his faceclosely, noticed that he listened with indifference to the invalid'sappeals to his pity, but at the mention of the twenty thousand dollars,the expression of unconcern on his face gave way to a look ofastonishment, and he began to listen more eagerly. This made it plainenough to Archie that, if the man consented to accompany the wagon, itwould not be out of any desire to respect the wishes of his employer, orto protect him if he fell into danger, but simply to earn the money thathad been promised him.
"If I had twenty thousand dollars, or twenty cents, about me, I shouldbe very careful not to mention the fact in the presence of such a man ashe is," said Archie, to himself. "He is a villain--I can see it in hiseye; and I hope he will decide to remain with the train. I should feelquite as much at ease among the Indians as I should with him forcompany."
"You will not leave me, Mike," said the invalid, in a pleading voice."Didn't I find you in the streets of St. Joseph in a destitutecondition, and haven't I fed, clothed, and paid you well since you havebeen with me? Drive me to Fort Benton, and the five thousand dollars areyours."
"Wal, Mr. Brecker, you have treated me mighty kind, that's a fact; and,now that I think of it, it would be mean in me to desert you. But Idon't want to go alone--this boy would be of no account if we shouldhappen to fall into trouble; and, if I can get company, I'll stick byyou."
The teamster, without waiting to hear the invalid's profuse thanks,threw his bundle into the wagon and hurried down the road out of sight.He returned in a few minutes, accompanied by a rough, reckless-lookingman, with whom he was conversing earnestly. They stopped at a shortdistance from the wagon, and Archie, who was listening intently,overheard a portion of their conversation. Mike was urging the man toaccompany his employer's wagon, and the latter was holding back throughfear of the Indians.
"I tell you thar aint no Injuns on the prairy," said the teamster. "Thatboy don't know what he's talkin' about. The wagon-master says so, and sodoes every body else in the train, except Brecker, and he's a fool.It'll be the best job you ever done. Twenty thousand dollars aint pickedoff every bush nowadays."
Archie pricked up his ears when he heard this. The invalid had offeredhis teamster but five thousand dollars for driving the wagon to FortBenton, and yet the man was talking as though he had promised him thewhole twenty thousand. Archie began to get excited, and believed thatthe best thing Mr. Brecker could do would be to remain with the wagontrain.
"Are you sure that you can depend upon that man?" he inquired,addressing himself to the invalid.
"Who--Mike? Certainly. He is an honest fellow, and I would trust himwith my life. Why do you ask that question?"
Archie did not think it best to give a direct answer. The invalid wasfrightened nearly out of his senses already, and the boy had no desireto increase his alarm by revealing the suspicions that had suddenlyarisen in his mind. If Mr. Brecker was willing to trust himself and histwenty thousand dolla
rs on the prairie under the protection of theteamster, it was really no concern of his. If Mike _was_ an honest man,however, he was certainly keeping bad company, and Archie thought itmight be a good plan to keep his eyes open and be prepared for anyemergency. He was sure that something exciting would happen during theride to the Old Bear's Hole. While he was thinking the matter over, thetwo men approached the wagon, and Mike introduced the new-comer as hisfriend Bob Frost, an old guide and Indian fighter.
"He is just the man we want," said the invalid. "I shall feel safe now."
"In course you can feel safe," replied Frost, with a braggadocio airthat made Archie put him down as a coward at once. "Thar aint Injunsenough on the prairy to skeer me. I'll take you through to Fort Bentonwithout no trouble. 'Taint wuth while to have that ar youngster taggin'arter us, though," he added, glancing at Archie.
"Why, he will show us where to go," replied Mr. Brecker.
"We don't need him, and he can't go," said Frost, decidedly. "I know theway to Fort Benton better nor he does."
"I don't see how my presence will interfere with you in any way," saidArchie. "It was I who first proposed Fort Benton as a place of refuge,and I shall go there, whether you are willing or not."
Frost had an overbearing air about him, and an insolent way of talkingthat Archie did not like, and he thought he might as well give him tounderstand that he was not under his control, and that he should do ashe pleased. When the man was about to reply, Mike interrupted him. Thetwo conversed in a low tone for a few minutes, and then sprang into thewagon and drove after the train, which was by this time out of sight inthe darkness. In half an hour they reached the prairie, and, leaving theroad, the teamster turned to the left and drove along the edge of thewillows toward the Old Bear's Hole.
The cover of the wagon was open at both ends, and Archie could see everymove the men made. They drove rapidly for awhile, and then, allowing thehorses to settle down into a slow walk, entered into an earnestconversation. The invalid tossed about uneasily on his bed, now and thenraising the cover of the wagon, and looking out over the prairie tosatisfy himself that there were no savages in sight, and, becomingimpatient at length, desired the teamster to drive faster.
"'Taint safe," said Frost, who seemed to have taken the management ofaffairs into his own hands. "The faster we go the more the wheelsrattle; an' if thar are any Injuns about, the noise will lead them tous. I say, youngster! Mebbe it would be a good plan fur you to ride onahead, an' see if the way is clear."
Now, this was something that Archie had no intention of doing. He hadalready marked out the course he intended to pursue, and one thing hehad determined upon was, that he would not for a moment lose sight ofthe teamster and his friend. He thought too much of his own safety, and,besides, he wanted to be at hand to protect the invalid; for he was surethat he would need somebody's protection before many minutes more hadpassed over his head. He knew, as well as if had been explained to himin so many words, that the men had determined to take possession of thetwenty thousand dollars, and that the guide's suggestion, that he shouldride on in advance, was but a plan to get rid of him. Perhaps, themoment his back was turned, Frost would send a ball into him; or, itmight be, that it was his intention to lose him in the darkness, andthen dispatch the invalid and rob the wagon. Archie did not know whichof these two courses of action the men had decided upon, but he wasresolved that neither of them should prove successful.
"Did you hear what I said, youngster?" exclaimed Frost, angrily.
"Oh yes, I heard you."
"Then why don't you start--why don't you obey orders?"
"Well, I have two reasons. In the first place, I do not recognize yourright to give any orders; and, even if I did, I should pay no attentionto them, as long as you issue them in that insolent tone of voice. Inthe next place, if it is all the same to you, I prefer to ride behind."
"Then you can stay behind. You can jest toddle back to the wagon train."
"I am not going that way. My route lies in this direction."
"Wal, then, travel on ahead," roared the guide, growing angrier everymoment. "We don't want you hangin' about us no longer."
"Oh, don't send him off," cried the invalid. "He is going to show us theway to a safe hiding-place."
"You need not be at all uneasy, Mr. Brecker," said Archie. "I have notthe least intention of leaving you alone with these men."
"Haint you?" exclaimed Frost. "Mike, pull up them hosses. I'll soon fixhim."
The time for action had come, and Archie was ready for it. As theteamster stopped the horses, and Frost leaped to the ground, he rode upto the wagon, and, thrusting his hand under the cover, pulled out theinvalid's revolvers. He knew just where to find them, for he had seentheir owner place them beside him on the mattress, where he could seizethem at an instant's warning.
"What's the matter?" cried Mr. Brecker, in great alarm. "What are yougoing to do with those pistols?"
Archie could not stop to reply. He grasped a revolver in each hand, andcovering the teamster's head with one of the weapons, pointed the otherat the guide, who at that moment came around the end of the wagon. Theformer dropped the reins, and turned pale with terror; but Frost, whowas in too great a hurry, and too highly enraged to notice any thing,ran up to Archie, and seized his horse by the bridle.
"Now, my lad," said he, savagely; "climb down----"
"Take your hand off that bridle!" interrupted Archie.
Frost now looked up for the first time, and seeing the shining barrel ofthe six-shooter leveled full at his head, uttered a cry of alarm, andstaggered back as if he were about to fall to the ground. The man whoboasted that he had never seen Indians enough to frighten him, wasthoroughly cowed by a sixteen-year-old boy.
"Drop that knife!" commanded Archie, and the bowie which the guide heldin his hand fell to the ground instantly. "Look out there, Mike! I amwatching you, and if you attempt to pick up a weapon it will be the lastof you. Now, Frost," he added, waving one of his revolvers over theprairie in the direction he supposed the wagon train to be, "maketracks. Don't stop to talk, but clear out at once. Mr. Brecker and hismoney are safe while I am about. Why don't you obey orders?One----two----"
The guide did not wait to hear any more (he was afraid that when the"three" came out, a bullet would come with it), but hurried off at once,and without uttering a word. Archie kept one of his revolvers pointedat him as long as he remained in sight, and then turned to theteamster.
"Now, Mike, it's your turn," said he, giving emphasis to his words bypointing both his weapons at the man's head. "Jump down from that wagon,and follow your partner. When I count three, I am going to send twobullets over the seat on which you are now sitting."
Had Archie fulfilled this threat, the bullets would have passed throughthe empty air; for Mike, taking him at his word, leaped to the groundand walked off, shaking his head and muttering to himself. That part ofthe work was done, and now came a more difficult task, and that was toquiet the invalid, who seemed to be on the point of going into a fit ofhysterics. Archie soothed him as best he could, assuring him that thedanger was passed, and that there was nothing more to be apprehendedfrom the would-be robbers, but his words seemed to have no other effectthan to increase the invalid's agitation. The boy did not know what todo; and, while he was considering the matter, the reports of riflessuddenly rang out on the air, followed by a chorus of savage yellswhich made the cold chills creep all over him. The Indians had overtakenand attacked the train. As quick as thought Archie dismounted, and aftertying his horse to the wagon, sprang into the driver's seat, and seizedthe reins and whip.
What happened during the next two hours Archie could scarcely have told.He tried many a time afterward to recall the incidents of that wildride, but all that he could remember was that he clung to the reins withone hand, and swung the whip with the other, until his arm was so tiredthat he could hardly raise it to his shoulder; that the spirited horsesnever broke their mad gallop from the time they left the willows, untilh
e checked them on the banks of a little creek, twenty miles from thebase of the mountains, where he stopped to obtain a few minutes' rest;that the heavy wagon rocked and groaned like a vessel in a gale of wind,as the frantic horses dragged it over the prairie, up one swell and downanother--bounding over buffalo wallows and gullies, which at any othertime would have effectually checked its progress;--he remembered thisas if it had been a dream; and when he came to himself, he was sittingon the ground beside the wagon, the horses were standing knee-deep inwater, and the invalid was staring at him with a bewildered air, like aman just aroused from a sound sleep.
"Where are we?" asked the latter, in a scarcely audible voice.
"We seem to be in a grove of willows on the banks of a creek," repliedArchie; "but how long we have been here, and how we came here in thefirst place, I scarcely know. What is that noise?"
Archie was himself now, and all his senses were on the alert. He heardthe tramping of horses' feet on the other side of the willows, and,jumping up, he clambered, into the wagon and seized the whip; but thejaded horses refused to move. One of them lay down in the water, andbefore Archie could compel him to get upon his feet again, the willowson the bank were dashed aside, and a company of horsemen came into view.They were not Indians, however, but cavalrymen from Fort Benton.