The Frontier Boys in the Grand Canyon Part 5

"We will see to that later," returned Jim, "let's examine these rocks."

We left our horses below and crawled up a narrow trail between two rocks and found on top a depression with stones surrounding it, in which grew some bushes and scattered tufts of gra.s.s.

"Here is a good place for shelter," suggested Jim.

"It certainly is," I acquiesced.

There was a big flat rock supported on two others and room for us to crawl under if we stooped down. Underneath was a large enough s.p.a.ce for our camp, the ground covered with clean gravel.

"This will be our bedroom," I proposed.

"Yes," replied Jim, "if you don't mind the upper floor in case of fire."

"We must get the horses up," I said, "or the Indians will be stealing them."

"Don't you believe it," returned Jim, "those beggars are not going to risk their valuable lives. They think they have got us cold without taking any chances. All they will have to do is to squat around and wait for us to be starved out."

So we went down below where our ponies were patiently waiting, their heads drooping. They were just about played out. It had been a terrible chase and they had saved our lives by their speed and stamina.

We got them up the narrow path between the rocks. Only at one point were we exposed to the Indian fire and then we got it. An irregular succession of shots rang out and some of the bullets left their splotches on a rock above us, but most of them went very wild. The heavy rain was a veil of protection.

One thing we had learned was that the Indians were bad marksmen and were easily flurried. They were too anxious to save their own skins to take careful aim. Even when they had a good quiet chance they did not seem able to land a direct blow.

Then it is hard to shoot accurately at a steep angle; the wind too and the rain as suggested, helped us, for the latter blurred everything. So we were not greatly worried by the shooting.

In a few seconds we had got the ponies on top. And we thought they were comparatively safe, but there was one side that was lower than the others and the Indians kept potting away.

"We will soon fix that," said Jim. "Make Coyote lie down out of range."

This I had no difficulty in doing. He seemed to know instinctively what was expected of him.

"Now," said Jim, "we will build up that side."

So we went to work and dragged up some small fallen trees from the slope below and with stones, large and small, built up a barricade.

It seemed to me that Jim exposed himself unnecessarily to the fire of the enemy. He seemed to be perfectly happy as the bullets hummed around him, as he put a rock in place on the parapet. In fact he seemed to mind them no more than the pouring rain.

It seemed like quite a little battle, with the rifle flashes from behind the brush or rocks and Jim's grey figure on the wall of the fort.

"That's all hunky dory," said Jim. "It beats old Fort Sumter."

"Get up Piute, Coyote," I urged. "They are safe here now as in the old cow pastures at home."

The ponies seemed to recognize that they were well protected, for they began to graze around as comfortably as you please in the little hollow with its surrounding rock, yanking at the bunches of tall gra.s.s and biting the leaves of the scrub bushes. Everything is fodder to a broncho.

"Let's get the saddles under shelter," said Jim.

So we dragged them down and put them in our camp under the big rock.

Next we built a fire in the dry shelter and made coffee in a big tin cup we carried in our haversack.

Of course the grains were not as fine as though the original coffee had been run through a coffee mill, for we had pounded it up in a hollow cup-shaped rock with another stone for pestle.

"Hold on, Jo," exclaimed Jim. "Don't waste our canteen water on that coffee, we may need it."

"You are not going down to the creek," I cried, in alarm.

I knew only too well what lengths Jim's bravado would carry him. For I had not forgotten the time that he went down to the creek in our first canyon in Colorado, on a moonlight night when we knew that there were Indians lurking near. So I was prepared for the worst.

"No," he replied, to my intense relief, "I am going to look around here."

"You won't find any on top of a hill like this," I said, "the water all runs off."

"All right, my boy, but I'm going to look. You can stay in the kitchen and cook the venison."

Then Jim stooped out of the front door and disappeared. In a short time I heard his low, peculiar whistle and I ran out. I found Jim between two large rocks.

"Here you are," he said.

I hastened to satisfy my curiosity. I saw quite a little water in a pocket between the rocks.

"Quite a lake, isn't it?" asked Jim.

"Yes, it is a good deal when you don't expect anything," I replied.

"It will help us out all right," remarked Jim. "We will have to be mighty careful of our water supply. We can manage for food even if we have to eat Coyote."

"Piute goes first," I retorted, "his name sounds more eatable anyway."

"Well, we won't quarrel about that now," replied Jim. "The next thing on the program is supper."

We were quite comfortable in our dry shelter with the rain beating outside and as an added luxury we were not even bothered with the smoke, for there was a crevice in the rock at one side near the end, which made a good chimney, and the smoke drew through that.

Even though we were comfortable we knew that our situation was desperate and as we sat eating we canva.s.sed our prospects thoroughly.

CHAPTER V

ON GUARD

"The first thing," said Jim, "is to find out how long a siege we can stand."

"Why!" I exclaimed in alarm, "don't you think that the captain and Tom will locate us soon and get us out of this?"

"Perhaps," replied Jim, "but they may have troubles of their own. Anyhow there must be at least a hundred of these Apaches down below, and there is no telling how many more there will be in another day. They will probably have all their howling relatives here within the radius of two hundred miles to join in the picnic."