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SUNSET PASS
OR
RUNNING THE GAUNTLET THROUGH APACHE LAND
BY CAPTAIN CHARLES KING
AUTHOR OF "THE DESERTER", "A WAR-TIME WOOING", ETC
COPYRIGHTED, 1890BY JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY
NEW YORKJOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY150 WORTH ST., COR. MISSION PLACE
CAPT. CHAS. KING]
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
Capt. Chas. King
He Drew Little Nell close to Him
Manuelito Was shuffling about the Fire Apparently doing Nothing
"Where's Manuelito?"
His First Duty seemed to be to get the Provisions from the Wagon
"Jim, Old Boy, We've got to pull Together To-night"
"My God! There's not a Living Soul in Sight"
Bending Down He raised Her in His Strong Arms Away He Flew at Full Speed
The Two Men set to Work to build Their Breastwork
Nellie, Clinging to Her Nurse, was terrified by the Sounds
The Poor Devil was now seated, Bound and Helpless, on a Rock by theRoadside
"That's what Jim took for an Apache"
One Vehement Kick and Curse He Gave Him
With One Backward Look He staggered Wearily on
"My God! What can have Happened? It's Captain Gwynne?"
Evidently the One Who was shot was a Man of Some Prominence amongThem--Possibly a Chief
All of a Sudden a Black Shadow rushed through the Air
Down With these Stones, Now!"
The Bullet of the Little Ballard had taken Him just under the Eye
SUNSET PASS.
CHAPTER I.
A RASH RESOLVE.
"Better take my advice, sir. The road ahead is thick with the Patchies."
"But you have come through all alone, my friend; why should I not go? Ihave been stationed among the Apaches for the last five years and havefought them all over Arizona. Surely I ought to know how to take care ofmyself."
"I don't doubt that, captain. It's the kids I'm thinking of. Therenegades from the reservation are out in great numbers now and they aresupposed to be all down in the Tonto Basin, but I've seen their moccasintracks everywhere from the Colorado Chiquito across the 'Mogeyone,' andI'm hurrying in to Verde now to give warning and turn the troops thisway."
"Well, why didn't they attack you, then, Al?"
The party thus addressed by the familiar diminutive of "Al" paused amoment before reply, an odd smile flitting about his bearded lips. Astronger, firmer type of scout and frontiersman than Al Sieber never satin saddle in all Arizona in the seventies, and he was a noted characteramong the officers, soldiers, pioneers, and Apaches. The formerrespected and trusted him. The last named feared him as they did theIndian devil. He had been in fight after fight with them; had had hisshare of wounds, but--what the Apaches recoiled from in awe was the factthat he had never met them in the field without laying one at least oftheir number dead in his tracks. He was a slim-built, broad-shouldered,powerful fellow, with a keen, intelligent face, and eyes that werekindly to all his friends, but kindled at sight of a foe. Abroad-brimmed, battered slouch hat was pulled well down over his brows;his flannel shirt and canvas trousers showed hard usage; his pistol belthung loose and low upon his hips and on each side a revolver swung. Hisrifle--Arizona fashion--was balanced athwart the pommel of his saddle,and an old Navajo blanket was rolled at the cantle. He wore Tontoleggins and moccasins, and a good-sized pair of Mexican spurs jingled athis heels. He looked--and so did his horse--as though a long, hard ridewas behind them, but that they were ready for anything yet.
"It makes a difference, captain--their attacking me or you. I've beenalive among 'em so many years that they have grown superstitious.Sometimes I half believe they think I can't be killed. Then, too, I mayhave slipped through unnoticed, but you--with all this outfit--why!you're sure to be spotted, followed, and possibly ambushed in SunsetPass. It's the worst place along the route."
Captain Gwynne looked anxiously about him a moment. He was ahard-headed, obstinate fellow, and he hated to give up. Two months agohis wife had died, leaving to his care two dear little ones--a boy ofnine and a girl of six. He soon determined to take them East to his homein far Pennsylvania. There was no Southern Pacific or any other Arizonarailway in those days. Officers and their families who wanted to go Easthad to turn their faces westward, take a four or five days' "buckboard"ride across the dusty deserts to the Colorado River, camp there perhapsa week before "Captain Jack Mellon" came backing or sideways down theshallow stream with his old "Cocopah." Then they sculled or ground theirway over the sand bars down to Fort Yuma, a devious and monotonous trip;then were transferred to "lighten" or else, on the same old Cocopah,were floated out into the head of the Gulf of California and therehoisted aboard the screw steamers of the Ocean line--either the Newbernor the Montana, and soon went plunging down the gulf, often verysea-sick, yet able to get up and look about when their ship poked in atsome strange old Mexican town, La Paz or Guaymas, and finally, turningCape St. Lucas, away they would steam up the coast to San Francisco,which they would reach after a two weeks' sea voyage and then, hey forthe Central Pacific, Cape Horn, the Sierras, Ogden, and the tramp to theUnion Pacific and, at last, home in the distant east, all after ajourney of five or six weeks and an expense of months of the poorofficer's pay.
Now Captain Gwynne was what we called a "close" man. He could not bearthe idea of spending something like a thousand dollars in takinghimself, little Ned and Nellie, and their devoted old nurse, Irish Kate,by that long and expensive route. He had two fine horses and a capitalfamily wagon, covered. He had a couple of stout mules and a good baggagewagon. Jim, his old driver, would go along to take care of "theConcord," as the family cart was termed. Manuelito, a swarthy Mexican,would drive the mules; the captain would ride his own pet saddle horse,Gregg, and a discharged soldier, whom he hired for the purpose, wouldride McIntosh, the other charger. All were well armed. Parties weregoing unmolested over the Sunset Pass route every month. Why should nothe?
The officers at Prescott shook their heads and endeavored to dissuadehim, but the more they argued the more determined was he. There weretearful eyes among the ladies at Prescott barracks, where Mrs. Gwynnehad been dearly loved, when they bade good-by to the children. But onefine day away went "the outfit;" stopped that night at Camp Verde, deepdown in the valley; started again early in the morning, despite theprotestations of the garrison, and that evening were camping among thebeautiful pine woods high up on the Mogollon range. Sieber'spronunciation of the name--"Mogeyone"--will give you a fair idea of whatit is really like.
And now, three days out on the Mesa, Ned and Nellie, in silence, butwith beating hearts, were listening to this conversation between theirfather and the famous scout, and hoping, poor little mites, that theirfather would be advised and turn back until met by cavalry from Verde;yet so loyal to him, so trustful to him, that neither to one another norto Kate would they say a word.
"Well, Sieber, I've argued this thing out with all Prescott and Verde,"said the captain at last. "I've sworn I wouldn't turn back, and so, byjinks, I'm going ahead. It's all open country around Snow Lake, and Ican keep on the alert when we reach the Pass."
"You know your business best, I suppose, captain, but--" and Sieberstopped abruptly and gazed through the open wind
ows of the Concord atthe two little forms huddled together, with such white faces, on theback seat.
"Well, won't you at least wait and camp here a day or so? I'll go downby way of Wales Arnold's and get him to send up a couple of men. Thatwon't be going back, and you'll be tolerably safe here. The cavalrywon't be long getting out this way."
"And meantime having my beasts eating barley by the bucketful so that Iwon't have enough to get through? No, Al, I've made calculations justhow many days it will take me to get over to Wingate, and delay wouldswamp me. I don't mean to discredit your story, of course, buteverybody, even at Verde, said the renegades were all down by TontoCreek, and I cannot believe they would be out here to the northeast. I'mgoing ahead."
"Well, Captain Gwynne, I give up. If you're bound to go there's no usetalking. Stop one moment though!" He spurred his broncho close to thewindow, and thrusting in his wiry arm drew little Nell close to him,bent and kissed tenderly her bonny face.
HE DREW LITTLE NELL CLOSE TO HIM.]
"God guard you, baby," he murmured, as finally he set her down. "Adios,Ned, my lad," and he shook the little man heartily by the hand. "Goodluck all! Now I must gallop to make up time." He turned quickly away andwent "loping" down the trail, but his gauntlet was drawn across his eyestwo or three times before he disappeared from view. Two white littlefaces gazed wistfully after him and then into each other's eyes. IrishKate muttered a blessing on the gallant fellow's head. "Come on, Jim,"said the captain, with darkening face, and presently the little trainwas again in motion, winding over the range that, once passed, bringsthem in view of Snow Lake with the gloomy, jagged rocks bounding thehorizon far beyond. There is a deep cleft that one sees in that barrierjust as he emerges from the pine woods along the ridge, and that distantcleft is Sunset Pass.
Though seldom traveled, the mountain road from Fort Verde over to FortWingate was almost always in fair condition. Rains were very few and didlittle damage, and so at a rapid, jingling trot the wagons lunged aheadwhile the captain and Pike, the retired trooper, rode easily alongsideor made occasional scouts to the front.
Knowing that his children must have heard his talk with Sieber, thecaptain soon dropped back opposite the open window and thrust in hishand for the little ones to shake.
"You're not afraid to go ahead, Ned, my boy! I knew I could count onyou," said he heartily. "And Nell can hardly be afraid with you and herold dragoon dad to guard her. Isn't it so, pet?"
And the wan little face smiled back to prove Nellie's confidence infather, while Ned stoutly answered:
"I'm never afraid to go anywhere you want me to go, father. And then Ihaven't had a chance to try my rifle yet."
The boy held up to view a dainty little Ballard target gun--a toy of athing--but something of which he was evidently very proud.
"And then we've got good old Pike, papa--and Kate here--I'm sure shecould fight," piped up little Nell, but there was no assent to thisproposition from the lips of poor Kate. All along she had opposed thejourney, and was filled with dread whenever it was spoken of. Vainly hadshe implored the officers and ladies at Prescott to prohibit the captainfrom making so rash an attempt. Nothing would avail. As ill-luck wouldhave it the lieutenant colonel recently gazetted to the infantryregiment stationed in Northern Arizona had just come safely through fromWingate with exactly such an "outfit," but without such guards, andCaptain Gwynne declared that what man had done man could do. There wereplenty of people who would have taken her off the captain's hands, butnothing would induce the faithful creature to leave the motherless"childer." She loved them both--and if they were to go through dangershe would go with them. All the same she stood sturdily out in herresentment toward the captain and would not answer now. Jim, too, on thedriver's seat, was gloomily silent. Manuelito with the mules in rear hadlistened to Sieber's warning with undisguised dismay. OnlyPike--ex-corporal of the captain's troop--rode unconcernedly ahead. Whatcared he for Apaches? He had fought them time and again.
Nevertheless when Captain Gwynne came cantering out to the front andjoined his old non-commissioned officer, it was with some surprise thathe listened to Pike's salutation.
"May I say a word to the captain?"
"Certainly, Pike; say on."
"I was watching Manuelito, sir, while the captain was talking withSieber. Them greasers are a bad lot, sir--one and all. There isn't oneof 'em I'd trust as far as I could sling a bull by the tail. ThatManuelito is just stampeded by what he's heard, and while he dare notwhirl about and go now, I warn the captain to have an eye on the mulesto-night. He'll skip back for the Verde with only one of them ratherthan try Sunset Pass to-morrow."
"Why! confound it, Pike, that fellow has been in my service five yearsand never failed me yet."
"True enough, sir; but the captain never took him campaigning. They dovery well around camp, sir, but they'd rather face the gates ofpurgatory than try their luck among the Tontos. I believe one Apachecould lick a dozen of 'em."
The captain turned slowly back, and took a good look at the Mexican ashe sat on his high spring seat, and occasionally encouraged his teamwith endearing epithets, or, as in the manner of the tribe, scored themwith wildest blasphemy. Ordinarily Manuelito was wont to show his whiteteeth, and touch the broad, silver-edged brim of his sombrero, when "elcapitan" reined back to see how he was getting along. To-day there was asullen scowl for the first moment, and then, as though suddenlyrecollecting himself, the dark-skinned fellow gave a ghastly sort ofgrin--and the captain felt certain that Pike's idea was right. Thequestion was simply how to circumvent him.
At sunset the little party was cosily camped on the edge of Snow Lake--aplacid little sheet far up among the mountains. The plateau was brokenby a low ridge a few miles east, through a gap in which, known as JarvisPass, ran the road to Sunset Pass beyond. Horses and mules, securelytethered, were grazing close at hand. The two wagons were drawn in nearthe little camp-fire. The children were having a jolly game of hide andseek and stretching their legs after the long day's ride in the wagon.Kate was stowing away the supper dishes. Manuelito was stretched uponthe turf, his keen, eager eyes following every motion of his captain,even though his teeth held firmly the little paper tobacco holder hecalled his "papelito." Out on the open ground beyond the little bunch oftrees Pike could be seen, carbine in hand, scouting the prairie-likesurface and keeping guard against surprise. The sun went down. Twilighthovered over them; Kate had cuddled her beloved "childer" into theirbeds in the wagon and the captain had come around to kiss themgood-night. Manuelito still sprawled near the tiny blaze, smoking andwatching, and at last, as the bulky form of the Irish nurse-maiddisappeared within the canvas walls of the wagon, the Mexican sprangfrom his recumbent position, turned, and with quick, stealthy step spedaway through the clumps of trees to where the animals were placidlybrowsing. He bent his lithe body double, even though he knew that atthis moment the captain and the ex-corporal were over at the east end oftheir little camp-ground, chatting together in low tones. He laughed tohimself as he reached his mules and found them heavily hoppled with ironchains.
"As if I would take a burro when one stroke gives me a _caballogrande_," he muttered, and pushed still further out to where the fourhorses were "lariated" near the timber. A word to "Gregg" whom he hadoften cared for; a gleam of his knife from the sheath and the gallanthorse was free to follow him. Still in silence and stealth he led himback toward the camp-fire where the saddles were piled. Still he markedthat Captain Gwynne and Pike were in earnest talk down at the other endof the camp. Warily he reached forward to grasp the captain's saddle,when a low exclamation was heard from that officer himself and, peeringat him through the trees, the Mexican could see that he was eagerlypointing westward and calling Pike to his side. Instinctively Manuelitoglanced over his shoulder and saw a sight that told him horse-thievingwould not save his tawny hide; that told him their retreat was cut off,and their only hope now was in standing together. Back among the pinesthrough which they had come; well upon the ridge, and not ten
milesaway, blazed an Indian signal fire. It was the Apache summons for aquick "gathering of the clans."
Now God help the bairnies in the wagon!