The Death Shot Part 49

CHAPTER SIXTY TWO.

"HELP! HELP!"

Baulked in their attempt to ambuscade the supposed Indians, Clancy and his companions thought not of abandoning the search for them. On the contrary, they continued it with renewed eagerness, their interest excited by the unexplained disappearance of the party.

And they have succeeded in finding it, for it is they who surround Bosley, having surprised him unsuspectingly puffing away at his pipe.

How they made approach, remains to be told.

On reaching the river's bank, and there seeing nought of the strange equestrians, their first feeling was profound astonishment. On Woodley's part, also, some relapse to a belief in the supernatural; Heywood, to a certain degree, sharing it.

"Odd it air!" mutters Sime, with an ominous shake of the head.

"Tarnashun odd! Whar kin they hev been, an' whar hev they goed?"

"Maybe back, across the river?" suggests Heywood.

"Unpossible. Thar ain't time. They'd be wadin' now, an' we'd see 'em.

No. They're on this side yit, if anywhar on airth; the last bein' the doubtful."

"Supposin' they've taken the trace we came by? They might while we were up the road."

"By the jumpin' Jeehosofat!" exclaims Woodley, startled by this second suggestion, "I never thought o' that. If they hev, thar's our horses, an' things. Let's back to camp quick as legs kin take us."

"Stay!" interposes Clancy, whose senses are not confused by any unearthly fancies. "I don't think they could have gone that way. There may be a trail up the bank, and they've taken it. There must be, Sime.

I never knew a stream without one."

"Ef there be, it's beyont this child's knowledge. I hain't noticed neery one. Still, as you say, sech is usooal, ef only a way for the wild beasts. We kin try for it."

"Let us first make sure whether they came out here at all. We didn't watch them quite in to the sh.o.r.e."

Saying this, Clancy steps down to the water's edge, the others with him.

They have no occasion to stoop. Standing erect they can see hoof-marks, conspicuous, freshly made, filled with water that has fallen from the fetlocks.

Turning, they easily trace them up the shelving bank; but not so easily along the road, though certain they continue that way. It is black as pitch beneath the shadowing trees. Withal, Woodley is not to be thus baffled. His skill as a tracker is proverbial among men of his calling; moreover, he is chagrined at their ill success so far; and, but for there being no time, the ex-jailer, its cause, would catch it. He does in an occasional curse, which might be accompanied by a cuff, did he not keep well out of the backwoodsman's way.

Dropping on all fours, Sime feels for hoof-prints of the horses that have just crossed, groping in darkness. He can distinguish them from all others by their being wet. And so does, gaining ground, bit by bit, surely if slowly.

But Clancy has conceived a more expeditious plan, which he makes known, saying:

"No need taking all that trouble, Sime. You may be the best trailer in Texas; and no doubt you are, for a biped: still here's one can beat you."

"Who?" asks the backwoodsman, rising erect, "show me the man."

"No man," interrupts the other with a smile. "For our purpose something better. There stands your compet.i.tor."

"You're right; I didn't think o' the dog. He'll do it like a breeze.

Put him on, Charley!"

"Come, Brasfort!" says Clancy, apostrophising the hound, while lengthening the leash, and setting the animal on the slot. "You tell us where the redskin riders have gone."

The intelligent creature well understands what is wanted, and with nose to the ground goes instantly off. But for the check string it would soon outstrip them for its eager action tells it has caught scent of a trail.

At first lifting it along the ford road, but only for a few yards. Then abruptly turning left, the dog is about to strike into the timber, when the hand of the master restrains it.

The instinct of the animal is no longer needed. They perceive the embouchure of a path, that looks like the entrance to a cave, dark and forbidding as the back door of a jail. But surely a trace leading in among the trees, which the plumed hors.e.m.e.n have taken.

After a second or two spent in arranging the order of march, they also take it, Clancy now a.s.suming command.

They proceed with caution greater than ever; more slowly too, because along a path, dark, narrow, unknown, s.h.a.ggy with thorns. They have to grope every inch of their way; all the while in surprise at the Indians having chosen it. There must be a reason, though none of them can think what it is.

They are not long left to conjectures. A light before their eyes throws light upon the enigma that has been baffling their brains. There is a break in the timber, where the moonbeams fall free to the earth.

Gliding on, silently, with undiminished caution, they arrive on the edge of an opening, and there make stop, but inside the underwood that skirts it.

Clancy and Woodley stand side by side, crouchingly; and in this att.i.tude interrogate the ground before them.

They see the great tree, with its white shroud above, and deep obscurity beneath--the moonlit ring around it. But at first nothing more, save the fire-flies scintillating in its shadow.

After a time, their eyes becoming accustomed to the cross light, they see something besides; a group of figures close in to the tree's trunk, apparently composed of horses and men. They can make out but one of each, but they take it there are two, with two women as well. While scanning the group, they observe a light larger and redder than that emitted by the winged insects. Steadier too; for it moves not from its place. They might not know it to be the coal upon a tobacco pipe, but for the smell of the burning "weed" wafted their way.

Sniffing it, Sime says:

"That's the lot, sure; tho' thar appears but the half o't. I kin only make out one hoss, an' one man, wi' suthin' astreetch long the groun-- one o' the squaws in coorse. The skunk on his feet air smokin'.

Strange they hain't lit a fire! True 'tain't needed 'ceptin' for the cookin' o' thar supper. Maybe they've hed it, an' only kim hyar to get a spell o' sleep. But ef thet's thar idee why shed yon 'un be stannin'

up. Wal; I guess, he's doin' sentry bizness, the which air allers needcessary out hyar. How sh.e.l.l we act, Charley? Rush right up an'

tackle 'em? That's your way, I take it."

"It is--why not?"

"Because thar's a better--leastwise a surer to prevent spillin' thar blood. Ye say, you don't want that?"

"On no account. If I thought there was a likelihood of it, I'd go straight back to our camp, and leave them alone. They may be harmless creatures, on some innocent errand. If it prove so, we musn't molest them."

"Wal; I'm willin', for thet," rejoins Woodley, adding a reservation, "Ef they resist, how are we to help it? We must eyther kill, or be kilt."

There is reason in this, and Clancy perceives it. While he is cogitating what course to take, Woodley, resuming speech, points it out.

"'Thar's no use for us to harm a hair on thar beads, supposin' them to be innercent. For all thet, we shed make sure, an' take preecaus.h.i.+n in case o' them cuttin' up ugly. It air allers the best way wi redskins."

"How do you propose, Sime?"

"To surround 'em. Injuns, whether it be bucks or squaws, air slickery as eels. It's good sixty yurds to whar they're squatted yonner. Ef we push strait torst 'em, they'll see us crossin' that bit o' moons.h.i.+ne, an' be inter the timmer like greased lightnin' through the branches o' a gooseberry bush. Tho' out o' thar seddles now, an' some o' 'em streetched 'long the airth, apparently sleepin', they'd be up an' off in the shakin' o' a goat's tail. Tharefor, say I, let's surround 'em."

"If you think that the better way," rejoins Clancy, "let us. But it will take time, and call for the greatest caution. To get around the glade, without their seeing us, we must keep well within the timber.

Through that underwood it won't be easy. On second thoughts, Sime, I'm inclined to chance it the other way. They can't possibly escape us. If they do take to their horses, they couldn't gallop off beyond reach of our rifles. We can easily shoot their animals down. Besides, remember there's two to get mounted on each. We may as well run right up, and determine the thing at once. I see no difficulty."

"Wheesht!" exclaims Woodley, just as Clancy ceases speaking.