Frontier Boys on the Coast Part 3

"Did you hear anything, Senor?" asked Manuel.

"Nothing."

"I was sure I heard something," a.s.serted his companion. They had reined in their horses and sat listening quietly for a few seconds.

"It was probably nothing but a calf by the roadside," said the Senor.

The other shook his head doubtfully, then they turned and rode on towards the rancho.

When they were safely out of range, the party of pirates took up their line of march once more.

"So the greaser took me for a calf," remarked Captain Broom. "If it had been you, Jack Cales, there might be some excuse fer such a mistake."

"Aye, sir," replied Cales, glumly.

"Getting kind of close to the ranch, ain't you, Cap'n?" ventured old Pete.

"I thought of leaving you there, Pete, while the rest of us corralled those kids. You are getting too old for these long tramps."

No more remarks were heard coming from the direction of Pete, for he was not at all sure but that the Captain might, in a moment of irresponsible humor, do just as he threatened without regard to the consequences.

After they had gone on for a mile from the point where the two men had overtaken them, Captain Broom led his party away from the road in a southerly direction, once more undergoing the harrowing experience of getting through the barbed wire fence. But this time Jack Cales was especially detailed by the Captain to get old Pete through so there would not be any unnecessary delay.

It was evident that they were getting into a different section, a short time after they left the road, for they began going up and winding among little rocky hills. At last they came to a stopping place. They climbed up an elevation and sat on some rocks among a group of dark trees.

"Now, lads, take it easy," said the Captain, "ye have had quite a footin' and when morning comes, there will be some more ahead and at a faster gait."

"Gosh, Cap'n," declared old Pete, "It's the most walking we've done together since the time we corralled the last bunch of n.i.g.g.e.rs on the west coast of Africa."

"We certainly made money that trip when we sold that cargo of c.o.o.ns to the traders on that Palmetto Island below Charleston. But we will clean up about as much money when we round up those four boys and twice as easy. Tell the two lads about that trip, Pete."

The old sailor sat on a rock, and taking out his bag of tobacco filled his short black pipe with one th.o.r.n.y thumb, then he commenced his narrative, with the glow of his pipe lighting up his weatherbeaten face.

"Well, orders is orders, and the Cap'n wants me to tell this yarn. I might just as well begin it, lads. I never knew any good to come to sailormen cruising around on dry land any more than on this trip." He cast a wary eye at Captain Broom, but that worthy merely grunted and Pete resumed his story.

"Our clipper lay at anchor in a wide bay with only a couple of men on board and the Captain, myself and six men trailing inland for to find a village of naygurs that our guides had told us of.

"It certainly was hot and steamy going through the jungles and every once in a while a big snake as large as my leg would crawl across our path and rustle away into the undergrowth. Once I felt one of 'em a-twisting and rolling under my foot like a big log that had came to life. I guess I must have jumped twice as high as my own head and I lit on the back of one of the naygurs that was guiding us.

"He didn't know what struck him; probably thought it was a tiger for I sunk my hooks into his hide. He let out a yell and went ripping and snorting through that jungle and me not having sense enough to let go, until a grape vine about as thick as a manilla rope chucked me under the chin and I fell flat on my back and I guess that naygur is still running."

Here the captain who was evidently enjoying the narrative hugely, burst into a volcanic roar of laughter.

"I can see yer yet, Pete, on that bounding buck of a n.i.g.g.e.r, and him a-hiking through the jungle and a-yelling like a wild Injun."

"I remember you got out of the way mighty quick," said Pete, "when you heard us a-coming behind you."

"It certainly was a curious spectacle," said the Captain, "but go on with your yarn, Pete."

"The further we went into the jungle the worse it got. The mosquitoes fairly ate us alive and they wern't the only cannibals in those woods by any means. There was a tribe of man-eaters beyond the Big River and we didn't try to capture any of them. They wern't our stripe of bacon.

"We went on for six days, with the monkeys chattering over our heads all day and the mosquitoes serenading us at night. Talk about birds, there was a whole menagerie of them and their colors beat the handkerchiefs that these greasers wear around their throats and you can't get ahead of that for color.

"One night we got in range of the village we were after and there was a great pow-wow going on. There was a big fire in the circle of the gra.s.s huts and some big black bucks were doing a dance around it. Just then I saw--"

"Hold on, Pete," said the Captain in a low, gruff voice, "somebody is coming our way."

CHAPTER V

THE FOUR BOYS

"Hey, Jim, where are we going to make camp?" It was his brother Jo's genial voice.

"Not until we can strike water," replied Jim. "No more dry camps for me."

"I don't think much of the coast range, or the Sierras, either." It was Juarez Hoskins' well-remembered voice, with its rather low, deep tones.

"Give me the Rockies every time."

Juarez was nothing if not loyal to his mountains.

"I don't think any of the mountains are much to brag of."

It is hardly necessary to say that it is Tom Darlington who is now speaking, for the discerning reader is pretty well acquainted with his style by this time.

"There's always something to look out for," continued Tom, "if it isn't Indians it's rattlesnakes, and you have got to choose between a cloudburst or no water at all. Give me the East every time."

"You make me exhausted talking about the East," said Jim. "Why didn't you stay there when you were there? I had just as soon take a chance with a rattlesnake as with an ice cream soda."

"Tom would like to _play_ Indian," cut in Jo, "with turkey feathers sticking up from a red flannel band around his head. And creeping upon a flock of sheep pretending that they are antelope and that cows are real live bears."

"Yes," said Jim, "you have lined it out all right, Jo. Then when they were tired of playing Injun, Tom and his little playmates could pretend that they were Daniel Boone's men with wildskin panties on."

"Shut up, boys," said Juarez, coming to Tom's rescue. "What's the use in rubbing it in? The East is all right for some folks and if the boys back there can't have real adventures they have to do the best they can.

After all, Jim, you are an Eastern boy. You can't get away from that."

Jim writhed under the implication but replied good humoredly.

"You're right, Juarez, old chap, but I can't help stirring up Tom once in a while. It is good for him too. It keeps his liver active, so he won't get bilious."

"Juarez has got more sense than you two put together," said Tom.

"Forget all about it now, Tommy," urged Juarez good-naturedly, getting the aforesaid Tommy by the nape of the neck with one vigorous brown hand and giving him a shake.

Thus under Juarez's straightforward management the family quarrel was abated.