The Frontier Boys in the Grand Canyon Part 12

"Which way?" I asked Jim, when we reached the foot of the hill.

"Up the mountains, of course," was his command.

"Where are the Apaches?" I questioned.

"Ask of the winds that far around with fragments strew the sea. They have skedaddled," he continued, lapsing into prose.

"I wonder if the captain and Tom have been caught in this fire," I cried.

A fear struck to my heart. It did not seem possible that anyone could escape the devouring march of the fire. Not many would be likely to find the refuge we had.

"You may be sure of one thing," replied Jim, "and that is this, the captain will take good care of himself and Tom too."

There was ground for Jim's confidence. For the captain was a man of unlimited resource, backed by a remarkable experience and he was, no doubt, far more worried about us than we were about them.

For us it was a trying and difficult journey over this burnt section. It was hard on the horses, and must have burnt their feet cruelly. We picked our way as carefully as we could, following the gravelly stretches where it was possible so to do.

Then again, where we could do so, we would take the line of the creek that ran down the middle of the valley. There was no water in it, for it had been either choked or dried up. After all that rain of the previous day this seemed remarkable.

"How much ground do you suppose this fire has swept, Jim?" I asked.

"It's hard telling," he replied, "but it would not surprise me if we would have to travel several days before we get out of the burnt district."

We had now arrived at the top of the mountain, from which the valley sloped down.

"Which way now, Jim?" I asked, stopping a moment for a better view.

For answer he swung his horse north, along the ridge. It was comparatively clear here and quite gravelly and a cool breeze, unstained with smoke, swept over the divide, with refres.h.i.+ng life in it for us. It was the next thing to having a drink.

"How are your lips, Jo?" asked Jim.

"Burnt," I replied.

"It's a whole lot better than having the Apaches catch you," he reasoned. "Then you would have been burnt all over."

"It's some consolation," I said.

"I don't believe we could have escaped," said Jim, "if the fire had not helped us. The only thing we could have done was to have tried to make our escape at night."

"We would have fought our way through, perhaps," I suggested.

"Not more than one chance out of a hundred," replied Jim, "and I'm glad, for one, we didn't have to take it."

"We get a pretty good view of the conflagration from here," I commented.

This was true, for in both directions we could see the solitary blazing trees on the mountain slopes like the fires of a great army, and in the canyon below us on the other side the brush was still blazing.

CHAPTER X

THE SEARCH

"Shall we camp here?" I asked, "this seems to be as good a place as any."

Jim shook his head.

"No, we will work our way north till we can get a view of our old camp.

Perhaps we will find some trace of Tom and the captain."

We rode on steadily, following along the top of the ridge. The whole vast, shadowy country blackened and desolate, lighted by the occasional fires, seemed to me quite unrecognizable.

"I don't believe we can tell the canyon when we arrive at it," I suggested, "they all look alike to me."

"I guess I will know it when we come to it," Jim answered.

"You are a better mountaineer than I am if you can," I said.

"I am," replied Jim coolly.

I reckon there was no doubt of it, for Jim had developed a remarkable sense for locality, and had a natural instinct for direction, while I was easily lost, but I could tell the east when the sun rose and the west where it set. Beyond that I was not much of an authority.

"Here we are," exclaimed Jim.

We had arrived at the head of a narrow canyon that looked to me much like the one we had just gone by.

"How can you tell?" I asked.

"Never mind," replied Jim, "you will see that I am right."

Jim was not above adding to his reputation by a certain mystery, which gave the impression that he controlled certain occult forces which he did not choose to explain to the ignorant and the uninitiated.

"You guessed right," I said after we had ridden down a ways above the wall of the canyon. "You certainly have pretty good luck."

"We are above the camp now," said Jim, "let's see if we can wake them up?"

He put his hands to his lips and gave a yell loud enough to wake the dead. No response.

"I'm going down to make sure," he said.

So he swung himself off Piute, and followed by Santa the two soon disappeared, leaving me alone, but I was used to that. So I dismounted to give Coyote a rest. I hope Jim will be able to find water down there, I said to myself.

I did not have very long to wait, when I saw Jim, toiling up from below.

"What luck?" I asked.