CHAPTER V

  ALONE WITH THE INSANE

  Beneath the shade of uplifted arms Murphy's eyes remained unclosed.Whatever terrors may have dominated that diseased brain, the onepurpose of revenge and escape never deserted it. With patient cunninghe could plan and wait, scheme and execute. He was all animal now,dreaming only of how to tear and kill.

  And he waited long in order to be perfectly sure, unrolling inch byinch, and like a venomous snake, never venturing to withdraw hisbaleful eyes from his unconscious victim. He was many minutesthoroughly satisfying himself that Hampton actually slept. His everymovement was slow, crafty, cowardly, the savage in his perverted naturebecoming more and more manifest. It was more beast than man thatfinally crept forward on all-fours, the eyes gleaming cruel as a cat'sin the night. It was not far he was compelled to go, his movementssquirming and noiseless. Within a yard of the peacefully slumberingman he rose up, crouching on his toes and bending stealthily forward togloat over his victim. Hampton stirred uneasily, possibly feeling theclose proximity of that horrible presence. Then the maniac took onemore stealthy, slouching step nearer, and flung himself at the exposedthroat, uttering a fierce snarl as his fingers clutched the soft flesh.Hampton awoke, gasping and choking, to find those mad eyes glaring intohis own, those murderous hands throttling him with the strength ofmadness.

  At first the stupefied, half-awakened man struggled as if in delirium,scarcely realizing the danger. He was aware of suffering, of horror,of suffocation. Then the brain flashed into life, and he grappledfiercely with his dread antagonist. Murphy snapped like a mad dog, hislips snarling curses; but Hampton fought silently, desperately, hisbrain clearing as he succeeded in wrenching those claws from hislacerated throat, and forced his way up on to one knee. He felt nohatred toward this crazed man striving to kill him; he understood whathad loosed such a raging devil. But this was no time to exhibit mercy;Murphy bit and clawed, and Hampton could only dash in upon him in theeffort to force him back. He worked his way, inch by inch, to hisfeet, his slender figure rigid as steel, and closed in upon the other;but Murphy writhed out of his grasp, as a snake might. The younger manrealized now to the full his peril, and his hand slipped down to thegun upon his hip. There was a sudden glint in the faint starlight ashe struck, and the stunned maniac went down quivering, and laymotionless on the hard ground. For a moment the other remainedstanding over him, the heavy revolver poised, but the prostrate figurelay still, and the conqueror slipped his weapon back into its leathersheath with a sigh of relief.

  The noise of their struggle must have carried far through that solemnstillness, and no one could guess how near at hand might be bands ofprowling savages. Yet no sound came to his strained ears except thesoft soughing of the night wind through the trees, and the rustling ofgrass beneath the tread of the horses. With the quick decision of onelong accustomed to meet emergencies, Hampton unbuckled the lariat fromone of the led animals, and bound Murphy's hands and limbs securely.

  As he worked he thought rapidly. He comprehended the extremedesperation of their present situation. While the revolver blow mightpossibly restore Murphy to a degree of sanity, it was far more probablethat he would awaken violent. Yet he could not deliberately leave thisman to meet a fate of horror in the wilderness. Which way should theyturn? Enough food, if used sparingly, might remain to permit of ahasty retreat to Cheyenne, and there would be comparatively littledanger in that direction. All visible signs indicated that thescattered Indian bands were rapidly consolidating to the northward,closing in on those troops scouting the Yellowstone, with determinationto give early battle. Granting that the stream they were now on shouldprove to be the Tongue, then the direct route toward where Custer wassupposed to be would be northwest, leading ever deeper into the lonelywilderness, and toward more imminent peril. Then, at the end of thatuncertain journey, they might easily miss Custer's column. That whichwould have been quickly decided had he been alone became a most seriousproblem when considered in connection with the insane, helpless scout.But then, there were the despatches! They must be of vital importanceto have required the sending of Murphy forth on so dangerous a ride;other lives, ay, the result of the entire campaign, might depend upontheir early delivery. Hampton had been a soldier, the spirit of theservice was still with him, and that thought brought him to finaldecision. Unless they were halted by Sioux bullets, they would push ontoward the Big Horn, and Custer should have the papers.

  He knelt down beside Murphy, unbuckled the leather despatch-bag, andrebuckled it across his own shoulder. Then he set to work to revivethe prostrate man. The eyes, when opened, stared up at him, wild andglaring; the ugly face bore the expression of abject fear. The man wasno longer violent; he had become a child, frightened at the dark. Hisceaseless babbling, his incessant cries of terror, only rendered moreprecarious any attempt at pressing forward through a region overrunwith hostiles. But Hampton had resolved.

  Securely strapping Murphy to his saddle, and packing all theirremaining store of provisions upon one horse, leaving the other tofollow or remain behind as it pleased, he advanced directly into thehills, steering by aid of the stars, his left hand ever on Murphy'sbridle rein, his low voice of expostulation seeking to calm the other'swild fancies and to curb his violent speech. It was a weird, wild ridethrough the black night, unknown ground under foot, unseen dangers uponevery hand. Murphy's aberrations changed from shrieking terror to awild, uncontrollable hilarity, with occasional outbursts of violentanger, when it required all Hampton's iron will and muscle to conquerhim.

  At dawn they were in a narrow gorge among the hills, a dark and gloomyhole, yet a peculiarly safe spot in which to hide, having steep, rockyledges on either side, with sufficient grass for the horses. LeavingMurphy bound, Hampton clambered up the front of the rock to where hewas able to look out. All was silent, and his heart sank as hesurveyed the brown sterile hills stretching to the horizon, havingmerely narrow gulches of rock and sand between, the sheer nakedness ofthe picture unrelieved by green shrub or any living thing. Then,almost despairing, he slid back, stretched himself out amid the softgrass, and sank into the slumber of exhaustion, his last consciousmemory the incoherent babbling of his insane companion.

  He awoke shortly after noon, feeling refreshed and renewed in both bodyand mind. Murphy was sleeping when he first turned to look at him, buthe awoke in season to be fed, and accepted the proffered food with allthe apparent delight of a child. While he rested, their remainingpack-animal had strayed, and Hampton was compelled to go on with onlythe two horses, strapping the depleted store of provisions behind hisown saddle. Then he carefully hoisted Murphy into place and bound hisfeet beneath the animal's belly, the poor fellow gibbering at him, inappearance an utter imbecile, although exhibiting periodic flashes ofmalignant passion. Then he resumed the journey down one of thosesand-strewn depressions pointing toward the Rosebud, pressing therefreshed ponies into a canter, confident now that their greatestmeasure of safety lay in audacity.

  Apparently his faith in the total desertion of these "bad lands" by theIndians was fully justified, for they continued steadily mile aftermile, meeting with no evidence of life anywhere. Still the travellingwas good, with here and there little streams of icy water tricklingover the rocks. They made most excellent progress, Hampton evergrasping the bit of Murphy's horse, his anxious thought more upon hishelpless companion in misery than upon the possible perils of the route.

  It was already becoming dusk when they swept down into a little nest ofgreen trees and grass. It appeared so suddenly, and was such anunexpected oasis amid that surrounding wilderness, that Hampton gavevent to a sudden exclamation of delight. But that was all. Instantlyhe perceived numerous dark forms leaping from out the shrubbery, and hewheeled his horses to the left, lashing them into a rapid run. It wasall over in a moment--a sputtering of rifles, a wild medley of cries, aglimpse of savage figures, and the two were tearing down the rocks, thedin of pursuit dying away behind them. The
band were evidently all onfoot, yet Hampton continued to press his mount at a swift pace, takingturn after turn about the sharp hills, confident that the hard earthwould leave no trace of their passage.

  Then suddenly the horse he rode sank like a log, but his tight gripupon the rein of the other landed him on his feet. Murphy laughed, infiendish merriment; but Hampton looked down on the dead horse, notingthe stream of blood oozing out from behind the shoulder. A stray Siouxbullet had found its mark, but the gallant animal had struggled onuntil it dropped lifeless; and the brave man it had borne so long andso well bent down and stroked tenderly the unconscious head. Then heshifted the provisions to the back of the other horse, grasped theloose rein once more in his left hand, and started forward on foot.