CHAPTER XXIX.
THE SEMINOLE LAD.
THE two lads next visited the hospital tent, where they found the feverpatients much improved but the three machine men suffering greatly fromtheir burns, while Bob Bratton and the wounded Spaniards were restingas comfortably as could be expected. The boys did all they could tomake the sufferers comfortable, then sauntered out for a look at theburned jungle. Here they met with a scene of utter desolation. Manytrees and stumps were still burning, but the larger part of the junglehad been swept clean. The shallow pools of water had been dried up bythe intense heat, leaving exposed an expanse of black mud fissuredby cracks. Of the former multitude of snakes that had infested theplace they saw not one. Returning from the destroyed jungle, the ladssearched over the scene of battle of the night before. They found bloodon the ground in several places, indicating that all their bullets hadnot been wasted. Before entering the tent, Charley paused and took alast look around. Several Spaniards, under the Captain's direction,were throwing up a solid breastwork, close to and surrounding the camp.The machine was working steadily, and the slow moving ox carts werecrawling back from the distant timber with their loads of wood. TheIndian camp had been outside of the fighting zone the night before.With a sigh, the wounded lad entered his tent and throwing himself onhis cot, gave way to his despair. Try as he might, he could see nothingbut ruin for himself and companions. There was little hope of gettinganother crew for the machine. The departing Spaniards would carry thestory of their disasters in with them, and it would be impossible toinduce others to come out. A negro crew might be secured, but it wouldtake time, and the lad knew the colored race well enough to know thatthey would not stick in the face of danger.
The crew's wages would take almost the last dollar they had in thebank, and if the County insisted, as he feared it would, on theirrebuilding the destroyed bridges, the reward for the convicts, themoney they had found in the old fort, and what was due on the diggingthey had already done, would be swept away to the last cent. In nodirection could he see any hope. In spite of all his efforts andcareful planning, their mysterious enemy had triumphed, and he and hiscompanions were ruined. He did not blame the Spaniards for quitting.The work was hard enough and dangerous enough to bear, without theadded risk of being shot in the dark.
At last, worn out by his gloomy reflections, the lad fell into a fitfulslumber from which he was awakened by Walter, who was pale of face andexcited.
"What's the matter?" Charley demanded as he sat up on the edge of thecot. "You look as though you had seen a ghost."
"I hate to tell you," faltered his chum, "but I knew you would have tohear about it, so I ran ahead to break the news to you myself."
"Out with it," Charley said. "I'm strong enough to bear anything now."
"You know the Indian lad that drives one of the wagon teams--the boyWillie John is so proud of--they just found him dead on his load ofwood--shot through the heart."
"The fiends," said Charley, "to shoot a poor, innocent, harmless child.They shall pay for it. Pay for it dearly." He threw aside the tent flapand strode out, Walter by his side babbling over the details of thetragedy.
"You ought to have seen Willie John's face when he found him," he said."It was like a demon's for a minute, then it became like stone."
Charley made his way out to the Indian camp, where the Spaniards andthe Americans were already gathered. The squaws were breaking up camp,while Willie John sat in one of the wagons holding the dead lad in hisarms.
"Willie John, Willie John," said Charley brokenly. "We never thoughtanything like this would happen. We never dreamed those fiends wouldfire on you or the lad."
"Me understand," said the Seminole without emotion. "You no to blame.Bad pale-faces in wood did it."
"We will see that they are punished for it, Willie John," Charleypromised, with tears in his eyes. "We will do all in our power to bringthem to justice."
"Me understand," said the Seminole, and added simply as he gazed downat the lad in his arms: "Him was good boy. Him no smoke, no drinkwyomee. Him save every little bit of money he get so by and bye him goto school all the same as pale-face boy. Him was very good boy."
The boys watched the lumbering, slow moving wagons out of sight withunashamed tears in their eyes. Then Charley turned to the machine men."Rake out your fire and make everything snug on the machine," he saidquietly. "There will be no more work for there will be no more wood."
When the machine men, their task done, had gathered with the others atthe camp, the lad addressed them again.
"You have all seen what has happened to-day," he said quietly. "Abright, innocent, harmless child murdered simply because he was workingfor us. We hardly deserve the name of human if we do nothing to avengehis death. It is getting too near night to do anything to-day, but I amgoing to call for volunteers to go with me to-morrow morning to eithercapture his murderers or wipe them out of existence. Who will go withme?"
His chums and the two engineers stepped promptly to his side, and theSpaniards followed one by one.
"Good," said the lad, with a sad smile. "We will start at daylight."
There was no singing or laughter in the camp that night, for each mancarried to his tent with him the reflection that the morrow might seehim as dead as the Indian child they were going to avenge. There wereplenty of men to act as guards for the night now that the machine wasnot working, so Charley retired early to his tent and soon fell asleep.At daybreak the guards awoke him and his companions as they had beenordered to do, and reported that the night had passed off withoutalarms. Chris soon had breakfast ready and over cups of strong steamingcoffee their plans for the expedition were made.
When the sun arose ten Spaniards and seven Americans armed with gunsand pistols filed out of the little camp and silently tramped away forwhere a distant smudge of smoke showed the location of the gunmen'scampfire. Only enough more remained behind to guard the camp.
The little party of avengers advanced with caution. They marched ina twisting line so as to always keep a hummock or a bunch of sprucesbetween them and the distant camp smoke so that their approach wouldnot be noticed. As they slowly drew nearer double caution was observed,but at last they came upon an open stretch of prairie which they mustcross to reach the thicket in which the gunmen's camp was located.
"Here is where they take the alarm," commented Charley, as they emergedout upon the open prairie.
But the little party crossed the open stretch without any sign of lifefrom the gunmen.
"They have either moved or are sound asleep," he said. "Get your gunsready. Don't fire unless I give the word. Follow me, and make as littlenoise as you can."
The little party filed into the thicket, the chums and engineers inthe lead and the Spaniards following close behind. At the edge of thecleared camping place the little party halted in horrified amazement.They had come to avenge the killing of the Indian lad, but anotheravenger had come before them. Sprawled upon the ground in all manner ofattitudes, lay eighteen men--all dead.
"Lord!" breathed McCarty softly. "Who could have done it?"
"There is only one answer to that question," said Charley gravely."Those whose right it was to do it, if the taking of human life is everright. Look at those heads."
The others shuddered with horror as they gazed upon the reddened skullsfrom which the scalp locks had been skillfully removed. Aside from thatnothing had been touched, guns still lay where they had fallen andtents and supplies were undisturbed.
"The Seminoles," exclaimed Walter, and his chum nodded assent.
Two men were sent back to the camp for shovels, and when they returnedgraves were dug in the sandy soil and the dead men laid to rest. Asearch of their clothing and belongings gave little clew to the strangemen's identity, but from the quantity of tablets and powders found uponthem, and their dissipated appearance, the boys decided that they weremembers of that deadly drug-crazed band of New York gunmen.
Their sickening task finished, the little
party headed back for camp.
"I am glad, after all, that it is not by our hands that they fell,"Charley said to his chums as they tramped along. "To take life, even inthe heat of passion, is a terrible thing."
"Aye, aye, lad," said Captain Westfield reverently. "The Good Booktruly says, 'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.'"
The little party arrived back in camp by noon. Much to their surprise,they found Willie John back again with his wagons busily engaged inmaking camp.
"Me come back, haul more wood," explained the Seminole simply.
During dinner there was great chattering and whispering at theSpaniards' table, and after the meal was over Bossie, always theirspokesman, approached Charley.
"Spanish _hombres_ (men) no want to quit now," he said in his quaintEnglish. "They likee boss, they likee grub, likee job. They no be shotat nights any more. They want to stay on job now. They think it muchmore better."
"All right, Bossie," replied the lad listlessly. "We can only work halftime now until the mules come and I can go in and get the electriclight."
"I will be glad when this job is over," he told Walter. "The violence,trouble, and bloodshed have destroyed all my interest in the work. Thegunmen will bother us no more, but I am wondering already where theenemy will strike next. The gunmen were only tools."
"Cheer up," said his chum, with an attempt at cheerfulness. "Thedarkest hour is always just before the dawn."