Dan Carter and the Great Carved Face Part 32

"Wish I could do something besides just sit and wait."

He took off his own light jacket and wrapped it around Old Miquel. The Indian stirred again, showing signs of regaining consciousness.

Encouraged, Dan began to chafe his cold hands, trying to restore circulation.

Time dragged on. The fire died down to struggling coals, leaving the cave colder and more terrifying than ever.

Dan huddled beside Miquel, watching the dark pool. He could hear the underground stream gurgling softly as it disappeared into the bowels of the earth. Now and then an object, a tree twig, a board or a leaf came floating in through the tunnel.

Already he had made minute inspection of the cave's interior, finding only the remains of food stolen from the Cub's camp. Obviously, Old Miquel had taken it to keep alive. Of worldly possessions, the Indian apparently had none except the clothes on his back.

Dan sat motionless in the gloom, acutely aware of a change in Old Miquel's breathing.

The sound was plainer now, harsh and labored.

"He's coming around," the boy thought uneasily. "I sure hope he doesn't make any trouble. I might not be able to handle him."

Dan remembered Brad's advice to quit the cave if Old Miquel caused trouble. But he had no intention of doing so except in a real emergency.

As the minutes pa.s.sed, the Indian became increasingly active. At first, he merely tossed his head from side to side. Then suddenly he sat up, staring at Dan with strange eyes.

Dan's heart began to pound. He checked an almost overpowering urge to turn and flee from the cave.

After the first surge of panic, he quieted his own fears. Placing a hand on Old Miquel's arm, he said:

"Take it easy. You're all right. Just lie still until help comes."

Dan scarcely expected the old man to understand. Therefore, it came as a surprise when Old Miquel answered in plain though halting English.

"Where-am-I?"

"Why, in the cave," Dan returned.

"Cave?" Old Miquel's gaze began to wander about the moss-covered walls as he sought to regain his bearings.

"Don't you remember what happened here?"

The old Indian shook his head, continuing to stare at Dan.

"Who are you?" he presently managed.

"Dan Carter. I'm a Cub Scout. Don't you remember coming to this cave?"

Again the Indian shook his head. "I must get back to my tribe," he murmured.

Again Dan restrained Old Miquel as he would have arisen.

"You must lie still," he directed. "You've been hurt."

"Hurt?" Miquel repeated parrot-fas.h.i.+on. "The fall from my horse?"

"A tumble into the pool of this cave," Dan corrected. "You struck your head on a rock or something. What's the last you remember?"

Old Miquel was silent for a long while. Dan thought he never would answer, but finally he said.

"I remember-riding through a canyon. My horse s.h.i.+ed at a rattler."

"And that's the very last?" Dan demanded. "Don't you recall anything at all about White Nose and Eagle Feather? Or the face you carved on the ravine?"

"White Nose and Eagle Feather are my brothers."

"They've been after you," Dan informed. "They came all the way from the west, picking up your trail here in Webster City."

From the Indian's expression, the boy knew that his words were not being understood. A theory was taking shape in his own mind. From Miquel's words, he believed that the old medicine man had been injured some time before in a fall from his horse.

This fall, perhaps, had shocked his entire nervous system, causing a lapse of memory.

So perhaps Old Miquel had wandered away from his tribe, unaware of his own ident.i.ty! Now the fall into the pool and another hard jolt had restored some recollection of the past!

"Don't you recall coming to Webster City?" Dan questioned him.

Once more Old Miquel shook his head negatively.

"Do you remember anything about a turquoise toad?"

At this question, the Indian's entire body seemed to stiffen.

"It was entrusted to my keeping," he replied briefly.

"And where is it now?"

"Where?" Old Miquel probed deep into his memory. "I-I-cannot remember."

"Somewhere in the west perhaps?" Dan prompted. "You didn't bring it with you when you came to Webster City?"

"The turquoise-it was hidden in a safe place. No, that is not right. It was given to the white trader at the reservation store. Now it comes back to me. I feared the toad might be stolen. I gave it to the trader to keep in his store safe until the tribe ceremonial."

"This must have been before your hard fall from the horse," Dan deducted.

"But how did you get to Webster City?"

Miquel could not answer. His only recollection other than the fall in the desert, had been a vague memory of having been on a freight train.

Exhausted from the effort required to talk, Old Miquel cringed down into his blanket again. Though he did not lapse into a stupor, he seemed to lose all further interest in his surroundings.

"He doesn't know White Nose and Eagle Feather came here to punish him for stealing the turquoise," Dan thought. "The old fellow's in a bad way.

Gosh, what can be keeping Brad and Dan?"

He arose and went to peer down the dark tunnel. Not a sign of any help coming! And yet Brad and Red surely had had more than ample time to get to the Cub camp and return with a stretcher.

Old Miquel apparently had regained his lost memory, but nevertheless, he was in a serious condition physically. He needed medical attention and he needed it right away.