The Great Sioux Trail Part 14

"Shall we get safely out of this?" he asked, addressing himself to the animal circle.

Either it was fact, or his imagination was uncommonly lively, as he saw six large heads nod slowly and with dignity, but with emphasis.

"All of us?"

The six heads again moved slowly and with dignity.

"And with you, our faithful four-footed friends, and with the packs that are so needful to us?"

The six heads nodded a little faster, but with the same dignity. Will was just putting the coffee on to boil when he asked the last question and received the last answer, and he stopped for a moment to stare at the six animals, which were still regarding him with their large, contemplative eyes. Could he refuse to believe what he thought he saw?

If fancy were not fact it often became fact a little later. Those were certainly honest beasts and he knew by experience that they were truthful, too, because he had never yet caught them in a lie. Animals did not know how to lie, wherein they were different from human beings, and while human beings were not prophets, at least in modern times, animals, for all he knew, might be, and he certainly intended to believe that the six, for the present, enjoyed the prophetic afflatus.

"I accept the omens as you give them," he said aloud. "From this moment I dismiss from my mind all doubt concerning the present affair."

Then he found himself believing his own words. The omens continued to be favorable. The coffee boiled with uncommon readiness and the strips of venison that he fried over the coals gave forth an aroma of unparalleled richness. Filling two large tin cups with the brown fluid he carried them to the watchers at the mouth of the pa.s.s, who drained them, each at a single draught.

"Best you ever made, Will," said Boyd.

"Ez good ez anybody ever made, young William," said the Little Giant.

"Now I'll bring you strips of venison and crackers," said Will, much pleased, "and after you've eaten them you can have another cup of coffee apiece."

His little task, his success at it, and the praise of his comrades cheered him wonderfully. When he had taken them the second cups of coffee and had also served himself, he put out the coals, picked up his rifle and rejoined the others. The first faint breath of the twilight was appearing over the mountains. The great ridges and peaks were growing dim and afar the wind of night was moaning.

"It'll be dark soon," said the Little Giant, "an' then we'll hev to watch with all our eyes an' all our ears. Onless the Sioux attack under kiver o' the night they won't attack at all."

"They'll come. Don't you worry about that, Tom," said Boyd. "The Sioux are as brave fighters as any that tread the earth, and they want our scalps bad, particularly yours. If I was an Indian and loved scalps as they do, I'd never rest until I got yours. The hair is so thick and it stands up so much, I'd give it a place of honor in my tepee, and whenever my warrior friends came in for a sociable evening's talk I'd tell 'em how I defeated you in battle and took your scalp, which is the king scalp."

"It's a comply-ment you make me to call my scalp the king scalp, but no Indian will ever take it. Do you see something stirring down thar 'mong the little cedars? Young William, them gla.s.ses o' yourn a minute or two."

He made a careful study with the gla.s.ses, and, when he handed them back, he announced:

"They're movin' 'mong the cedars. I made out at least a half dozen thar.

Ez soon ez it's good an' dark they're goin' to try to creep up on us.

Well, let 'em. We kin see pretty nigh ez good in the dark ez in the light, can't we, Jim Boyd?"

"I reckon we can see good enough, Giant, to draw a bead on anything that comes creeping, creeping after our hair."

Again Will felt pride that he was a.s.sociated with two such formidable champions of the wild, but he did not let pride keep him from selecting a good high stony outcrop behind which he lay with his rifle ready and his revolver loose in his belt. Now and then, however, he held his rifle in only one hand and used the gla.s.ses so valuable to him, and which he was beginning to prize so highly.

Much time pa.s.sed, however, and it pa.s.sed slowly. Young Clarke realized that the other name for the Sioux was patience, but it was hard on his nerves, nevertheless. He wanted to talk, he longed to ask questions of the two borderers, but his will kept him from doing so. He was resolved not to appear nervous or garrulous at such a time.

The night deepened. The twilight had pa.s.sed long since. Many of the stars did not come out and heavy waves of dusk rolled up the valley. The slopes of the opposite mountain became invisible, nor did Will see the dwarf cedars in which his gla.s.ses told him a portion of the Sioux band had lain hidden.

The time was so long that his muscles felt stiff and sore, and he stretched arms and legs vigorously to restore the circulation. Moreover the elevation was so great that it was growing quite cold in the pa.s.s, and he became eager for the warriors to attack if they were going to attack at all. But he remembered the saying that patience was only another name for Sioux and steeled his heart to endure.

The three were lying close together, all behind rocky upthrusts, and after a s.p.a.ce that seemed a thousand years or so to Will the Little Giant edged toward him and whispered:

"Young William, you wouldn't mind lendin' me them gla.s.ses o' yourn once more?"

"As often as you like, Giant."

"Hand 'em over, then. Even ef it's night they've got a way o' cuttin'

through the dark, an' I feel it's 'bout time now fur the Sioux to be comin'. They like to jump on an unsuspectin' foe 'bout midnight."

He took an unusually long look and handed the gla.s.ses back to Will. Then he whispered to both the lad and the hunter:

"I could make 'em out snakin' theirselves up the pa.s.s nigh flat on the rock."

"They hope to get so near in the dark that they can spring up and rush us."

"I reckon that's jest 'bout thar game, but them gla.s.ses o' young William's hev done give them away already. The Sioux hev fixed everythin' mighty careful, an' jest one thing that chance hez give us, young William's gla.s.ses, is goin' to upset 'em. Take a look, Jim."

"I can see 'em, so many dark spots moving, always moving up the pa.s.s and making no noise at all. Now, Will, you look, and after that we'll make ready with the rifles."

Will through the gla.s.ses saw them quite plainly now, more than a score of dark figures, advancing slowly but quite steadily. He threw the gla.s.ses over his shoulder and took up his rifle with both hands.

"Not yet, young William," said the Little Giant. "We don't want to waste any bullets, and so we'll wait until Jim gives the word. Ev'ry army needs a leader. Thar ain't but three in this army, but it hez to hev a leader jest the same and Jim Boyd is the man."

Will waited motionless, but he could not keep his heart from beating hard, as the Sioux, ruthless and bold, came forward silently to the attack. He did not have the infinite wilderness experience of the older two which had hardened them to every form of danger, and his imagination was alive and leaping. The dusky forms which he could now faintly see with the naked eye were increased by fancy threefold and four, and his eager finger slipped to the trigger of his rifle. He was sure they ought to fire now. The Sioux were certainly near enough! If they came any closer before meeting the bullets of the defense they would have a good chance to spring up and make a victorious rush. But the word to fire did not come. He glanced at their leader, and Boyd was still calmly watching.

The three lay very close together, and Will heard the hunter whisper to the Little Giant:

"How much nearer do you think I ought to let 'em come, Tom?"

"'Bout ten feet more, I reckon, Jim. Then though it's night, thar would be no chance fur a feller to miss, onless he shet his eyes, an' we want all our bullets to hit. Indians, even the bravest, don't like to rush riflemen that are ez good ez a batt'ry. Ef we strike 'em mighty hard the first time they'll fall back on tricks an' waitin'."

"Good sound reasoning, Tom. You hear, Will. Be sure you don't miss."

"I won't," replied the lad. Nevertheless those ten minutes, every one of them, had a way of spinning themselves out in such an extraordinary manner that his nerves began to jump again, and it required a great effort of the will to keep them quiet. The black shadows were approaching. They had pa.s.sed over a stretch of rough ground that he had marked four or five minutes before, and the outlines of the figures were growing more distinct. He chose one on the extreme right for his aim. He could not yet see his features, of course, but he was quite certain that they were ugly and that the man was a warrior wicked beyond belief.

Before he could fire upon anyone from ambush it was necessary for him to believe the man at whom he aimed to be utterly depraved, and the situation created at once such a belief in his mind.

He kept his eye steadily upon the ugly and wicked warrior, and as he watched for his chance and awaited the word from Boyd all scruples about firing disappeared from his mind. It was that warrior's life or his, and the law of self-preservation controlled. Nearer and yet nearer they came and the time had grown interminable when the hunter suddenly said in a low voice:

"Fire!"

Young Clarke pulled the trigger with a sure aim. He saw the hideous warrior draw himself into a bunch that sprang convulsively upward, but which, when it fell, lay back, outspread and quiet. Then he fired at a second figure, but he was not sure that he hit. The hunter and the Little Giant were already sending in their third and fourth bullets, with deadly aim, Will was sure, and the Sioux, after one mighty yell, wrenched from them by rage, surprise and fear, were fleeing down the pa.s.s under the fierce hail from the repeating rifles.

In a half minute all the shadows, save those outlined darkly on the ground, were gone, and there was complete and utter silence, while the light smoke from the rifles drifted about aimlessly, there being no wind. The three did not speak, but slipping in fresh cartridges continued to gaze down the pa.s.s. Then Will heard a wild, shrill scream behind him that made him leap a foot from the ground, and that set all his nerves trembling. The next moment he was laughing at himself. One of the horses had neighed in terror at the firing, and there are few things more terrifying than the terrified shriek of a horse.

"Maybe you'd better go back and see 'em, Will," said Boyd. "They may need quieting. I've noticed that you've a gentle hand with horses, and that they like you."

"And mules too," said the Little Giant. "Mine hev already taken a fancy for young William. But mules are much abused critters. You treat 'em well an' they'll treat you well, which is true of all tame animals."

Young Clarke suspected that they were sending him back to steady his own nerves as well as those of the animals after such a fierce encounter, but if so he was glad they had the thought. He was willing enough to go.

"Nothing will happen while you're gone," said Boyd cheerfully. "The Sioux, of course, would try to rush us again if they knew you were away, but they won't know it."

Will crawled until he came to a curve of the cliff that would hide him from any hidden Indian marksman, and then he rose to his feet, glad that he was able to stand upright. He found the horses and mules walking about uneasily at the ends of their lariats, but a few consoling strokes from him upon their manes quieted all of them, and, if they found comfort in his presence, he also found comfort in theirs.