The Lost Gold of the Montezumas: A Story of the Alamo

  CHAPTER VII.

  THE ESCAPE OF THE RANGERS.

  "It won't do for us to hang around this place," was the substance of anumber of remarks that were made by the riflemen as they cared fortheir horses and then followed their leader into the central building.

  "Now, men," said Bowie, as they gathered around him, "the critters musthave a good rest and a feed. We've run them hard. We'll get ourrations right off."

  All that was left of the deer began to go out of sight rapidly.Hunters like these were not apt to carry any considerable amount ofprovisions with them. It was not necessary in a region abounding withgame. They were as independent as so many Indians, and every day'sride was expected to provide for its own evening camp-fire, withvariations.

  The fire blazed up; Tetzcatl and one of the men volunteered as cooks;the others were stationed here and there as outlooks, with a tendencyto keep well under cover of the old walls. It may have been awillingness to be out of sight from the bushes that led the oldTlascalan to his duties at the fireside.

  Red Wolf had all the while kept in the background, so to speak, butnow, at last, he found an opportunity he had been waiting for.

  "Big Knife great chief," he said to the colonel. "Red Wolf heap boy.Want talk."

  "Come right along," replied Bowie, leading him a little aside. "Speakout. What is it? Have you found sign?"

  "Heap sign," said Red Wolf. "Heap good medicine. Big Knife come, see."

  "I'll do that!" exclaimed Bowie, with a sudden increase of interest."No Indian boy was ever waked up like that without a reason for it."

  Red Wolf's face was indeed "waked up," but it contained also an easilyread warning when he added,--

  "Tetzcatl. No good. No want him."

  "I don't want him," said Bowie. "Walk slow now. Go right along."

  It looked as if they were only strolling from one heap of rubbish toanother. Red Wolf's leading was very direct nevertheless, and theywere entirely hidden from observation when they stood in front of thecovered crypt in the broken wall.

  Even then not a word was uttered by either of them while the Indian boyremoved some of his fragments of _adobe_. When, however, he put in hishand and drew it out full of silver coins, the sombre face of the Texanblazed fiery red.

  "Heap dollar," remarked Red Wolf. "Big Knife find dollar. NoTetzcatl."

  "HEAP DOLLAR," REMARKED RED WOLF]

  "All right, my boy,", said Bowie, but he vigorously aided in thefurther work of uncovering the bags.

  "Ugh!" said Red Wolf. "Heap lift."

  So it was, for some of the bags were quite heavy. All were taken out,and one after another they were opened and their contents wereinspected.

  "Twenty of them are gold doubloons," exclaimed Bowie. "The rest aresilver. Now Houston can buy his rifles! There may be enough forcannon. What he needs is the hard cash. Why, there isn't powderenough in all Texas for one sharp campaign. But there will be. Thisis glorious!"

  He was not thinking of himself, therefore, but of the young republicwhich he and his brave comrades had created and were defending. Thismoney, lying here, so strangely found, so entirely at his disposal, wasnot to be regarded as his own. Its only value to him was the serviceit could render in gaining the independence of Texas.

  Rough, indeed, were the border men, but there are no better examples ofunselfish devotion to a common cause than they were at that hourgiving. Shoulder to shoulder they stood, the most unflinching band ofself-enlisted volunteers that is recorded.

  "There must be a good deal more than a hundred thousand dollars," saidBowie, beginning to put back the bags into the hole. "There may betwice as much, but if there is, it won't go far enough. My mind's madeup. I'll go with Tetzcatl. If there's anything in that story of his,we may find the cash to fit out batteries of artillery and buy fivethousand rifles."

  "Ugh!" said Red Wolf. "Heap dollars buy heap guns."

  "My boy," said Bowie, "you come along with me. I'll take care of you.You shall have a rifle, pistols, knives, blankets, horses, anything youwant. Now, Red Wolf, look!" He pointed at the covering they wereputting on. "Heap hide! No tell! Dollars lie still!"

  "Red Wolf shut mouth," was all the spoken reply, but his eyes blazedwith the pride he felt over the reception of his "find" by the whitehero. It was almost like being already a chief to be on intimate,confidential terms with so celebrated a warrior, with a leader whoseordinary manner was as haughty almost as that of Castro.

  A few handfuls of dust, a careful wiping out of foot- and hand-marks,and then the secret of the wall was as safe as it had ever been.

  Bowie, however, lingered for a moment, looking at the shattered _adobe_.

  "One thing more is true," he muttered. "All that stuff was found andcoined in this country. There is more where it came from, wherever themines and placers may be. It stands to reason that the old Mexicansdidn't get it all out. That makes me believe Tetzcatl! Cortez didn't,couldn't, have gotten hold of all the gold the Aztecs had above-groundwhen he came here. The Spaniards knew there was more. I'll go afterit."

  Back went the two discoverers to the cook-room and to their rations,and none who saw them come could have found upon their faces a trace ofthe excitement they had shown over their bags of doubloons and dollars.

  Two hours later all the animals belonging to the party were feedingpeacefully in the grassy open, and behind a knoll, not far from some ofthem, lay Colonel Bowie. His long, heavy "Mississippi rifle" wasthrown forward across the knoll. Just behind him, among some witheredweeds, lay the Lipan boy, as if he did not now feel willing to be faraway from his white chief. He was watching him closely, and thethought in his mind almost escaped at his lips, so clear was themeaning that he read in the motions of the marksman.

  "Big Knife sight deer," he thought. "Long shoot. Whoop! Comanche!"

  His whoop was uttered aloud as the fire flashed from the rifle-muzzle,and the report was answered by a chorus of yells from among the densemasses of the chaparral.

  "Tally one," said Bowie, coolly. "This business is going to cost GreatBear something. I'll get a bead on him next. Six yesterday and fiveto-day. I'll lie still and load up, though. It's close quarters."

  Not one of the other Texans had uttered a word, but each was alreadynear enough to good cover to drop behind it, ready for long-range riflepractice.

  One feature of the situation was only too evident, nevertheless, andthere was immediate peril of a crushing disaster.

  The hot blood ran like fire through the veins of Red Wolf. Here was agrand chance to earn distinction. It would be worthy of the oldestbrave in his tribe. The horses! The only hope for escape!

  So like a deer he bounded from his cover and went forward. He did notgo to the nearest horses, but beyond them, to those which wereapparently in the greatest danger of speedy capture by the Comanches.

  One of these had belonged to the brave who was killed in the open thatmorning, and another had been won in the chaparral from his companions.They were especially valued as prizes of war. Up came the twolariat-pins. Sharp jerks of the lariats called the ponies from theirfeeding and they followed the pulling. Louder every moment sounded thewhoops from among the bushes, and arrow after arrow whizzed through theair.

  "Whoop!" yelled the young adventurer. "Red Wolf heap boy! Comancheslittle dogs! Rabbits! Coyotes! Crows!"

  It was genuine Indian glory to be able to send back such screeches ofinsult and derision in reply to all those arrows. Some of themnarrowly missed him, although he managed to make a good shield out ofthe two ponies. That was the way he lost one of them, for the pooranimal was shortly plunging hither and thither with an arrow throughhis neck.

  Down he went, but Red Wolf immediately pulled up another peg, savingthe noble racer of Colonel Bowie, and he therefore got in with a pair.He was met by Tetzcatl, the only man upon his feet, but he took thelariats into his own hands, remarking in a very business-like way,--

  "_Bueno_! Go!
Bring all! Quick!"

  The remaining animals were hardly near enough to the bushes for arrowsto reach them, and the red men under cover seemed to hesitate aboutexposing themselves.

  "Humph!" growled Bowie. "They're only waiting for something or they'ddash out at him. But isn't he a buster! He'll equal his father someday. This is too bad, anyhow. All those dollars must stay where theyare for a while."

  Every horse was brought in without any further incident, but, for allthat, the situation of the mere handful of Texans was becomingextremely unpleasant. It would, however, have been a great deal moreso if they had been compelled to rely upon their own scanty knowledgeof the neighborhood they were in. It was too new a country.

  Colonel Bowie had not moved until the animals were safe, but he now puthis fingers to his lips and blew a long, vibrating whistle. Instantlyhis men arose behind their covers of _adobe_ or of rough ground andbegan to make their way to the central ruin. It was rapidly done, andRed Wolf was the last to come in, leading his own sorrel.

  "We're corralled!" said one of the men.

  "Not quite so bad as that," replied another; "and it'll be bad for themif they rush in."

  "I reckon they're waiting for more to come," said the colonel, coolly."It takes a good many to work a surround."

  "_Bueno!_" said Tetzcatl just then. "Time to go. Beat the redskinsnow."

  "Go ahead," responded Bowie; "we're ready."

  The men mounted at the word. They had been hurriedly putting onsaddles, and bridles, and now they sat like statues on horseback whilehe exchanged a few swift sentences with their white-headed guide.

  "Forward! Take it easy!" was the next command.

  Then it looked at first as if he were about to lead a charge directlyinto the bushes from which had come the arrows and the whooping. Socomplete was the appearance that several Comanches on the opposite sideof the pond came out into the open. They would have been in just theright position to attack the Texans in the rear, after riding aroundthe pond. Moreover, it seemed plain that the "surround" had been verynearly accomplished.

  "That's it," said Bowie. "We've drawn 'em out. We know where theyare. Now! Gallop! Boys, it's a run, but I reckon we've euchered 'em."

  He and Tetzcatl had suddenly wheeled toward the left, and not aComanche made his appearance on the easterly side of the open as he andhis men dashed into one of the widest avenues.

  Fierce were the whoops and yells of the outgeneralled red men as, withone accord, they came out of their several covers to follow. Over ascore were already in sight, and the yelling indicated that twice asmany more were near at hand. The Texans were to run a race for theirlives, but every animal that was entered for the race was in goodcondition, and not one of them was a second-rate runner.

  "Pull in!" shouted Bowie, at the end of a quarter of an hour."Tetzcatl says we're about safe."

  "We've rid through tangles enough," replied a ranger. "How fur are wenow from the south side of the chaparral?"

  "Not so far as we were," replied his commander, "but we don't get outinto prairie right away. You'll see what it is when you get there."

  "I want to git thar, then, awful," came from another of the men. "Wehaven't had a scratch yet, but it's been right smart of a close shave."

  So it had, and the Comanches were following upon the plain trail thatwas made by so many horses. Their real difficulty as pursuers was notthe trail itself, by any means. Great Bear was with them now, and hehad a high respect for the men he was dealing with. A number ofminutes had been lost to him at the outset by the make-believe charge.After that, as his gathering band rode on, the prudent chief compelledhis eager braves to draw rein several times at places where the thick"tangles" suggested the possibility of an ambush and a deadly volley ofrifle-bullets. It was really a pokerish business to follow dead shots,men of desperate courage, too, among those dense coverts. He was awise chief, no doubt, but every time his foremost warriors paused toreconnoitre the white men gained additional time.

  Red Wolf all the while kept somewhat diffidently in the rear. He was,after all, only a boy among great warriors. Before long, however, hefound himself riding at an easy gait side by side with Colonel Bowie,and the Big Knife was holding out something.

  "Young brave!" said he. "Want good knife? Present."

  It was one which had been found in the belt of the first Comanchewarrior killed in the open, and there had been no claimant for it. Itwas a very good knife, longer than most others, although not shapedaltogether like a bowie. Its sheath was silver-mounted and its edgewas keen. It was worth a dozen of common butcher-knives such as theone Red Wolf now carried, and his eyes glistened with pleasure. Itwould be a war-trophy to show to his father, and all his tribe wouldenvy him so fine a weapon. Its greatest value, however, even to them,would be the fact that it was a battle-token given by the greatsingle-hand knife-fighter of the white men.

  "Ugh!" exclaimed Red Wolf. "Heap knife. Great chief give! Whoop!"

  He secured it in his belt, and then his old butcher-knife wascontemptuously transferred to a place among the fringes of his leggings.

  The Texans were not using up their horses, but no halt was made. Theywent steadily forward for several miles of winding way, and then thechaparral began to change its character. Instead of mere bushes therewas heavy timber with much undergrowth, and the land grew rugged androcky instead of sandy.

  Tetzcatl was continually several yards in the advance. He now turnedand beckoned, spurred his mule, and seemed almost to vanish.

  "Forward, men!" shouted Bowie. "I know what he means! I've beenbothered by that very ravine more than once. It runs almost to theNueces River. Hurrah! Great Bear won't run his braves into such adeath-trap as that is. Come on!"

  A number of fine old oak-trees stood like sentries grouped around themouth of a kind of chasm, with rocks on either side. There was adescent at once, and the ravine grew deeper as the rangers rode fartherinto it. Tetzcatl was ahead of them, but the mule plodded on withoutwaiting for anybody, while his rider turned and put a finger on hislips.

  Not a shout was uttered, therefore, to tell how glad they all were toget into that ravine, and Bowie almost instantly exclaimed, in a lowvoice, to the long-legged Texan who was riding near him,--

  "Jim Cheyne! Look! That's what he means. That head, up there at thecliff-edge, among the rosin weeds. Can you fetch him? Long range, butI'll try. One of us may hit."

  "Ready! Together!" answered Jim, and in a few seconds more the tworifles cracked almost like one.

  Tetzcatl had watched the marksmen, and now he nodded approvingly androde on, but no one climbed to the upper level to inquire whether onebullet or two had cut short the scouting of the imprudent brave, whoseeagle feather had betrayed his weedy lurking-place.

  It was, nevertheless, another proof that Great Bear was a great chiefand that he knew that country, for he had sent his scouts in the rightdirection before trying to close in upon the Texans at the pond. Hehad even guessed correctly at one of their possible lines of escape.He could not have calculated beforehand that a feather and a head witha bullet in it should give so complete a confirmation.

  "He won't go back to tell," said Bowie, "but we shall be followed allthe way."