The Silver Canyon Part 21

"Tipsy! drunk!" he exclaimed. "What! Sam and Juan? Where could they get the stuff?"

"They must have crept under the waggon, and broken a hole through, for the brandy lay there treasured up in case of illness."

"I'll thrash 'em both till they can't crawl!" cried Joses, wrathfully.

"I didn't think it of them. It's no good though to do it to-night when they can't understand. Let them sleep it off to-night, my boy, and to-morrow morning we'll show the Beaver and his men what we do to thieves who steal liquor to get drunk. I wouldn't have thought it of them."

"What shall you do to them, Joses?" said Bart.

"Tie them up to that old post of a tree, my boy, and give them a taste of horse-hair lariat on the bare back. That's what I'll do to them.

They're under me, they are, and I'm answerable to the master. But there, don't say no more; it makes me mad, Master Bart. Go back now, and let them sleep it out. I'm glad I moved that powder."

"So am I, Joses," said Bart; and after a few more, words he returned to the little camp, to find the two offenders fast asleep.

Bart was very weary when he lay down, after glancing round to see that all proper precautions had been taken; and it seemed to him that he could not have been asleep five minutes when he felt a hand laid upon his mouth, and another grasp his shoulder, while on looking up, there, between him and the star-encrusted sky, was a dark Indian face.

For a moment he thought of resistance. The next he had seen whose was the face, and obeying a sign to be silent, he listened while the Beaver bent lower, and said in good English, "Enemy. Indians coming."

Bart rose on the instant, and roused the Doctor, who immediately awakened Maude, and obeying the signs of the Indian, they followed him into the shadow of the mountain, for the Beaver shook his head fiercely at the idea of attempting to defend the little camp.

It all took place in a few hurried moments, and almost before they were half-way to their goal there was a fierce yell, the rush of trampling horses, and a dark shadowy body was seen to swoop down upon the camp.

While before, in his excitement, Bart could realise his position, he found himself with the Doctor and Maude beyond the narrow entrance, and on the slope that seemed to lead up into the mountains.

As soon as Maude was in safety, Bart and the Doctor returned to the entrance, to find it well guarded by the Indians; and if the place were discovered or known to the enemy, it was very plain that they could be easily kept at bay if anything like a determined defence were made, and there was no fear of that.

Then came a sort of muster or examination of their little force, which, to Bart's agony, resulted in the discovery that while all the Indians were present, and Harry was by their side, Joses, Sam, and Juan were away.

In his excitement, Bart did not realise why this was. Now he recalled that when he lay down to sleep the two offenders had been snoring stertorously, and it was evident that they were helplessly stupefied when the Indians came, and were taken.

But Joses?

Of course he was at his post, and the question now was, would he remain undiscovered, or would the Indians find the hiding-place of the horses, and after killing Joses sweep them all away?

It was a terrible thought, for to be left alone in that vast plain without horses seemed too hard to be borne. At the first blush it made Bart shudder, and it was quite in despair that with c.o.c.ked rifle he waited for morning light, which seemed as if it would never come.

Bart's thoughts were many, and frequent were the whispered conversations with the Doctor, as to whether the Indians would not find the _cache_ of the horses as soon as it was daylight by their trail, though to this he had answered that the ground all around was so marked by horses' hoofs that it was not likely that any definite track would be made out.

Then moment by moment they expected their own hiding-place to be known, and that they would be engaged fighting for their lives with their relentless foes; but the hours wore on, and though they could hear the buzz of many voices, and sometimes dark shadowy forms could be made out away on the plain, the fugitives were in dense shadow, and remained unmolested till the break of day.

By this time Bart had given Maude such comforting intelligence as he could, bidding her be hopeful, for that these Indians must be strangers to the place, or they would have known of the way up the mountain, and searched it at once.

"But if they found it in the morning, Bart," she said, "what then?"

"What then?" said Bart, with a coolness he did not feel. "Why, then we shall have to kill all the poor wretches--that's all."

Maude shuddered, and Bart returned to where the Beaver was at the opening, watching the place where the enemy had been plundering the waggon, and had afterwards stirred up the camp fire and were seated round.

"Joses was glad that he had put away the powder," thought Bart, as he saw the glare of the fire. "I begin to wish it had been left."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

TWO HORRORS.

Morning at last, and from their hiding-place the fugitives could see that the Indians were in great numbers, and whilst some were with their horses, others were gathered together in a crowd about the post-like tree-trunk half-way between the gate of the mountains, as Bart called it, and the camp.

The greatest caution was needed to keep themselves from the keen sight of the Indians, who had apparently seen nothing of the horses' trail; and as far as Bart could tell, Joses was so far safe. Still it was like this:--If the Indians should begin to examine the face of the rock, they must find both entries, and then it was a question of brave defence, though it seemed impossible but that numbers must gain the mastery in the end.

"Poor Joses!" thought Bart, and the tears rose to his eyes. "I'd give anything to be by his side, to fight with him and defend the horses."

Then he began to wonder how many charges of powder he would have, and how long he could hold out.

"A good many will fall before they do master him," thought Bart, "if he's not captured already. I wonder whether they have hurt Juan and Sam."

Just then the crowd about the post fell back, and the Doctor put his gla.s.s to his eye, and then uttered a cry of horror.

He glanced round directly to see if Maude had heard him, but she, poor girl, had fallen fast asleep in the niche where they had placed her, to be out of reach of bullets should firing begin.

"What is it, sir?" cried Bart. "Ah, I see. How horrible! The wretches! May I begin to shoot?"

"You could do no good, and so would only bring the foe down upon my child," said the Doctor sternly.

"But it is Juan, is it not?" cried Bart, excitedly.

"Yes," said the Doctor, using the gla.s.s, "and Sam. They have stripped the poor fellows almost entirely, and painted Death's heads and cross-bones upon their hearts."

"Oh yes," cried Bart, in agony, "I can see;" and he looked with horror upon the scene, for there, evidently already half dead, their b.r.e.a.s.t.s scored with knives, and their ankles bound, Juan and Sam were suspended by means of a lariat, bound tightly to their wrists, and securely twisted round the upper part of the old blasted tree. The poor fellows'

hats and a portion of their clothes lay close by them, and as they hung there, inert and helpless, Bart, and his companion saw the cruel, vindictive Indians draw off to a short distance, and joining up into a close body, they began to fire at their prisoners, treating them as marks on which to try their skill with the rifle.

The sensation of horror this scene caused was indescribable, and Bart turned to the Doctor with a look of agony in his eyes.

"Quick!" he said; "let us run out and save them. Oh, what monsters!

They cannot be men."

The Indian who acted as interpreter spoke rapidly to the chief, who replied, and then the Indian turned to the Doctor and Bart.

"The Beaver-with-Sharp-Teeth says if we want to go out to fight, they are so many we should all be killed. We must not go."

"He is right, Bart," said the Doctor, hoa.r.s.ely. "I am willing enough to fight, but the presence of Maude seems to unman me. I dare not attempt anything that would risk her life."

"But it is so horrible," cried Bart, peering out of his hiding-place excitedly, but only to feel the Beaver's hand upon his shoulder, forcing him down into his old niche.

"Indian dog see," whispered the Beaver, who was rapidly picking up English words and joining them together.

The sharp report of rifle after rifle was heard now, and after every shot there was a guttural yell of satisfaction.

"They will kill them, sir," panted Bart, who seemed as if he could hardly bear to listen to what was going on.