The G.A. Henty MEGAPACK ®. G.a. Henty Henty
manner in which Dave mixed his dough.
“By the way, Dick,” the latter said, looking up, “we have divided that lot of gold we got here ourselves into five lots, and put one lot into the blankets on each of our riding horses; it is like enough that if we carry our own scalps back to the Settlements we shan’t get any of the four baggage ponies there with us. There is about twelve pound of gold in each blanket, so suppose we have to let the other ponies go, we shan’t have made a bad job out of our journey after all.”
“Have you filled the water-skins, Dave?”
“We filled the five small skins we carry ourselves, and one of the others we daren’t carry. Each of the horses has got two sacks of gold, one of them has got the water-skin, two others have got twenty pounds of flour each, which will be enough to last us with the loaf we are baking here till we get out of the Indian country; the others have got the tea and sugar. The one with the skin will be the heaviest load at first; but the water will soon go, so that makes it even. Everything else we have got to leave behind, except a kettle and this baking pan. We will take them up as we go. Now that the loaf is fairly under way, we will get ready for the redskins.”
CHAPTER XIII
The Redskin
They took their post behind some rocks in front of them. The bottom was composed of sand and gravel, the only rock being that behind which Dick had crouched, close to the entrance.
“Mind, we mustn’t all fire at once,” Dave said; “one must always be loading, and we will take it in turns to fire. Of course, if they make a rush we must take to our six-shooters; but they aint likely to do that. I will fire first, Zeke, you follow me; I reckon they aint likely to miss either of us.”
Another quarter of an hour passed, and then suddenly a mounted Indian appeared at the mouth of the Canyon. He checked his horse and sat gazing up it. Dave’s rifle cracked, and the Indian fell backward from his saddle; and a sudden yell of anger and surprise rose outside. Another moment and a dozen figures appeared at the entrance. Zeke fired.
“Now, Dick!” Dave said a moment later, and the lad, whose rifle was resting on the rock in front of him, pulled his trigger, and almost immediately Dave fired again. Another moment and the mouth of the Canyon was clear. Another Indian lay by the side of the first who had fallen.
“I reckon all the shots told,” Dave said; “we could hardly miss that clump. Now I don’t think you will see any more of them; they know we are here and they know we are ready for them, and it aint in Indian nature to throw away their lives charging up a place like this. They had reckoned the five first would go down anyhow. Then they will guess that we have got pistols, and the redskins hate six-shooters like poison.”
The time passed slowly, but the quiet in the Canyon remained undisturbed.
“I expect it is as I said, Zeke; they won’t attack again by daylight, though I don’t say as they won’t try and crawl up when it gets dark, but I don’t think as they will. If there is a village up in the hill behind us they will send round to it, and wait here till they hear a fight begin inside. If there aint no village, half of them will ride round to come down on us. However, they won’t set about that at once. Injuns are never in a hurry, and they think that they have got us safe in here and can take things easy. If it is a long way round and they aint quite sure of the path, like enough they won’t start until they calculate they will get there at daybreak, when they will guess that we shall be all pretty well worn out with keeping watch here.”
“I guess that is about it, Dave. Anyhow, we can push out as soon as it begins to get too dark for them to see us from the village across there—that is, as soon as the sun has gone down behind the hills to the south.”
Dave had from time to time left his post and gone to keep up the fire and to put a fresh batch of dough in the pan, and as soon as a shadow fell across the valley he said, “Now we will be off. I reckon there is no fear of the redskins getting round for a time; but I tell you that gold makes one mighty fidgety.”
Six loaves had been baked, and each taking two, while Dave, in addition, took the pan and kettle, they mounted the path. When they reached the tail of the string of horses Dave hailed Boston Joe, and a moment later the miner’s head appeared on the edge of the cliff above them.
“Is it all clear?”
“Aye. I have seen nothing of them—ne’er a thing moving.”
“Well, we will go at once, Joe. Even a redskin’s eyes could not make us out from that village now.”
The horses were at once set in motion. As soon as they had left the path the cords were unfastened, and the five mounted.
“Which way, Dave?” Boston Joe asked.
“We had better make west. It is lucky we shall have the moon, for there is no traveling over the hills in the dark if you don’t know the way. Anyhow, we will make straight back at present, or we may come upon those fellows riding round. We will go in Indian file. I will go first, with a pony tied to mine. The two lads will follow, then either you, Zeke, or Joe, can take the last pony, and the other one ride in the rear, so that you can keep us well in sight, and yet be far enough off to use your ears.”
For an hour they continued their course south, the ground rising as they went. Then they reached a dip running west.
“We will follow this,” Dave said; “it is the right direction anyhow, and it is as likely to take us down into the valleys again in time.”
As they proceeded, the dip became more decided, and after two hours’ riding the sides narrowed in.
“We shall strike a water-course soon,” Dave said, turning round to speak to Tom, who was riding next to him. “The water that falls here has got to make its way out somewhere, and this is the only way as it can go. Not that there is much water, for it is often months without rain.”
Presently they found that the ground was covered with pebbles.
“There is the water-course, you see,” Dave said.
The fall became steeper and steeper, and the ground more stony; low trees and bushes rose on the slopes on either side.
“We had best dismount here,” Dave said; “it is growing mighty steep, and we may come upon a sudden fall anywhere, and it is mighty difficult to judge about depth in the moonlight.”
The lads were heartily glad at the order, for they had for some time been momentarily expecting that their horses would come down over the bowlders.
“I will go twenty yards ahead,” Dave said. “You had better loose the baggage-ponies and let them pick their own way. Throw your bridles on your horses’ necks: they will go a deal safer so than if you were leading them; the critters can pick their way anywhere if they have got time and can look about.”
Luckily the moon was still high and shot full down upon the path they were traveling. Even on foot the lads found it difficult to make their way down. Sometimes they had to climb over heaps of bowlders, sometimes to slide down smooth faces of rock so steep that they could not keep their feet upon them, and often it seemed so perilous that they would have hesitated to attempt it had they not seen that Dave with his two horses kept steadily on below them.
CHAPTER XIV
In the Ravine
The lads were surprised at the way their own horses followed, sliding on their haunches down the steepest places and picking their way among rocks and bowlders. Six hours after starting they found themselves in a deep ravine, whose sides were covered with trees. They had now lost the moon, and it was far too dark for them to progress further.
“We will give them four hours’ rest,” Dave said; “that long halt on the path was worse than traveling. We shall go three times as fast when we get light to help us as in the dark; besides, we have got to look for some place where we can double on them. We shan’t find that till we are out of this valley. We shall have to be pretty spry if we are going to get away from them; they will come along fast when