A Waif of the Mountains - Edward Sylvester Ellis (best reads of all time .txt) 📗

of the others took coat or vest. The blanket flung around the shoulders was all that was likely to be needed, in addition to the heavy flannel shirt worn summer and winter.

Thus equipped, the three stood outside the cabin, with the moon high in the sky, a gentle wind sweeping up the canyon and loose masses of clouds drifting in front of the orb of night. Here and there a light twinkled from a shanty and the hum of voices sounded faintly in their ears. Further off, at the extreme end of the settlement, stood the Heavenly Bower, with the yellow rays streaming from its two windows. They could picture the group gathered there, as it had gathered night after night during the past years, full of jest and story, and with never a thought of the tragedy that had already begun.

"Shall we tell them?" asked Ruggles.

"No," answered Brush; "some of them might wish to go with us."

"And it might be well to take them," suggested Captain Dawson.

"We are enough," was the grim response of the parson.

Like so many phantoms, the men moved toward the further end of the settlement. Opposite the last shanty a man assumed form in the gloom. He had just emerged from his dwelling and stopped abruptly at sight of the trio of shadows gliding past.

"What's up, pards?" he called.

"Nothing," was the curt answer of the captain, who was leading and did not change his pace.

"You needn't be so huffy about it," growled the other, standing still and puffing his pipe until they vanished.

"That was Vose Adams," remarked the captain over his shoulder; "he'll tell the rest what he saw and it will be known to everybody in the morning."

The little party was carefully descending the side of the canyon, with now and then a partial stumble, until they reached the bottom of the broad valley where the grass grew luxuriantly nearly the whole year. It was nutritious and succulent and afforded the best of pasturage for the few horses and mules belonging to the miners.

Captain Dawson and Lieutenant Russell had ridden up the trail, each mounted on a fine steed, which had brought them from Sacramento. When the saddles and bridles were removed, the animals were turned loose in the rich pasturage, which extended for miles over the bottom of the canyon. There, too, grazed the pony of Nellie Dawson, the horses of Ruggles and Bidwell and the three mules owned by Landlord Ortigies and Vose Adams. The latter were left to themselves, except when needed for the periodical journeys to Sacramento. The little drove constituted all the possessions of New Constantinople in that line. Consequently, if any more of the miners wished to join in the pursuit, they would have to do so on foot or on mule back,--a fact which was likely to deter most of them.

In the early days of the settlement, before the descent of that terrible blizzard, fully a dozen mules and horses were grazing in the gorge, subject to the call of their owners, who, however, did not expect to need them, unless they decided to remove to some other site. But one morning every hoof had vanished and was never seen again. The prints of moccasins, here and there in the soft earth, left no doubt of the cause of their disappearance. Perhaps this event had something to do with the permanence of New Constantinople, since the means of a comfortable departure with goods, chattels, tools and mining implements went off with the animals.

After that the miners made no further investments in quadrupeds, except to the extent of three or four mules, needed by Vose Adams, though he was forced to make one journey to Sacramento on foot. Thus matters stood until the addition of the horses. There was always danger of their being stolen, but as the weeks and months passed, without the occurrence of anything of that nature, the matter was forgotten.

The three men were so familiar with the surroundings that they made their way to the bottom of the canyon with as much readiness as if the sun were shining. Pausing beside the narrow, winding stream, which at that season was no more than a brook, they stood for several minutes peering here and there in the gloom, for the animals indispensable for a successful pursuit of the eloping ones.

"There's no saying how long it will take to find them," remarked the captain impatiently; "it may be they have been grazing a mile away."

"Have you any signal which your animal understands?"

"Yes, but it is doubtful if he will obey it."

Captain Dawson placed his fingers between his lips and emitted a peculiar tremulous whistle, repeating it three times with much distinctness. Then all stood silent and listening.

"He may be asleep. Once he was prompt to obey me, but he has been turned loose so long that there is little likelihood of his heeding it."

"Try it again and a little stronger," suggested Ruggles.

The captain repeated the call until it seemed certain the animal must hear it, but all the same, the result was nothing.

It was exasperating for the hounds thus to be held in leash when the game was speeding from them, with the scent warm, but there was no help for it.

"We are wasting time," said Dawson; "while you two go up the gorge, I will take the other direction; look sharp for the animals that are probably lying down; they are cunning and will not relish being disturbed; if you find them whistle, and I'll do the same."

They separated, the captain following one course and his friends the other.

"It'll be a bad go," remarked Ruggles, "if we don't find the horses, for we won't have any show against them on their animals."

"Little indeed and yet it will not hold us back."

"No, indeed!" replied Ruggles with a concentration of passion that made the words seem to hiss between his teeth.

Since the stream was so insignificant, Wade Ruggles leaped across and went up the canyon on the other side, his course being parallel with his friend's. A hundred yards further and he made a discovery.

"Helloa, Brush, here they are!"

The parson bounded over the brook and hurried to his side, but a disappointment followed. The three mules having cropped their fill had lain down for the night but the horses were not in sight.


CHAPTER XVII

THE PURSUERS

The parson expressed his disappointment in vigorous language, when, instead of the horses, the hybrids proved to be the only animals near them.

"I am afraid this proves one thing," he said.

"What is that?"

"I have had a dread all along that the Indians would run off the horses, but it seems to me that if they had done so, they would have taken the mules."

"It strikes me as more likely that the leftenant took the horses, so as to prevent our follering him and the gal."

"That sounds reasonable," said the parson thoughtfully; "the plan is so simple that it must have occurred to him. The mules are too slow to be of any use to us, and it may be as well that we shall have to go afoot."

"How do you figure that out?"

"They will conclude that, if we haven't any horses, we won't follow them; they will, therefore, take their time and travel so slow, that we'll have the chance to swoop down on them when they are not expecting it."

"I s'pose there's what you call philosophy in that, but it doesn't hit me very favorable. We'll see what the cap thinks--helloa!"

Clearly and distinctly through the still air came the signal by which Captain Dawson was to announce his discovery of the animals. The call scattered all thoughts of making the journey on foot, and, wheeling about, the two started off at a rapid pace to join their friend. At the same moment the call sounded again, and they answered it to let it be known they understood the situation. In a brief time they came upon Captain Dawson impatiently awaiting them. There was no need for him to tell them he had been successful in his search, for he was standing beside the three horses, which were quickly saddled and bridled. A minute later the men vaulted upon their backs and the captain said crisply:

"Now we are off!"

Each seemed to be inspired by the spirit of adventure. They sat erect in the saddles, drew in a deep inhalation of the keen night air, and moved off with their horses on a brisk walk, which almost immediately became a canter. For a mile, the trail through Dead Man's Gulch was nearly as hard and even as a country highway. The width of the canyon varied from a few rods to a quarter of a mile, with the mountain ridges on either hand towering far up into cloudland, the tallest peaks crowned with snow which the sun never dissolved.

The tiny stream wound like a silvery serpent through the stretch of green, succulent grass, narrowing gorge and obtruding rock and boulder. Now and then the path led across the water, which was so shallow that it only plashed about the fetlocks of the horses. Captain Dawson, in his impetuosity, kept a few paces in front of the other two, as if he were the leader. When the space increased too much he reined up his animal and waited until his friends joined him. They were grim, resolute and for most of the time had little to say to one another, though, as may be supposed, their thoughts were of anything but a pleasant nature.

So long as the moon held her place near the zenith, the canyon was suffused and flooded with its soft radiance, but the rifts of clouds drifting before its face rendered the light at times treacherous and uncertain. The horses had rested so long, and had had such extensive browsing on the rich pasturage, that they were in fine condition, and the gallop seemed more grateful to them than an ordinary walking gait. The air was cool and the fine trail, at this portion of the journey, made all the conditions favorable. After a time however, the ascent and descent would appear, the ground would become rough and the best the animals could do would be to walk.

When Parson Brush remarked that Lieutenant Russell had proved himself an idiot when he left these horses behind for his pursuers to use, the captain and Ruggles agreed with him.

"I don't understand it," said Brush; "he must have expected we would be hot after him, within the very hour we learned of what he had done, or can it be that he and she concluded we would say, 'Depart in peace?' If so, the young man shall have a terrible awakening."

"It seems to me," said Ruggles, "that it is more likely he believed that with the start he would gain, it didn't matter whether we follered or not, feelin' sure that he could keep out of reach and get to Sacramento so fur ahead of us, that he needn't give us a thought."

"I am not very familiar with the trail," remarked the captain, "for, as you know, I have passed over it only twice; first, nearly five years ago, when I went to the war, and a few months since when I came back."

"But you and Russell did not lose your way," said the parson.

"That was because we