The G.A. Henty MEGAPACK ®. G.a. Henty Henty
five-and-twenty of them, and I guess they know as well as we do that it will be dark before their friends join them. However, I don’t think they will make a rush; they will lose heart when three or four of their number get shot, and weaken when it comes to climbing these rocks in face of our six-shooters. Now, do you two lads keep below; get down right among the rocks, so that you can fire out through some hole between them, and directly you have fired get out of the line, for a stray bullet might come in.”
Scarcely had the boys taken their position, and looked along their barrels, when they saw a dozen dark figures spring up among the rocks fifty yards away.
Two shots were fired by the miners, and two of the Indians fell forward; then, one after another, the lads fired, as they felt sure of their aim, while at the same moment two sharper cracks sounded close to them, for the Colt at forty yards is as deadly a weapon as a rifle. Three more of the Indians fell, and the rest sank down behind rocks and opened fire at the position held by the whites. These reloaded rapidly.
“Now keep a sharp lookout,” Dave said, “but don’t fire unless they rise again. Joe and I will make it hot for them as they raise their heads to take aim.”
The rifles were fired but twice, and then the fire of the Indians ceased.
“I think we have accounted for two more,” Joe said. “We shan’t hear any more of them. Seven out of twenty-five is a sharp lesson, and the first man who fell was their chief, I reckon, and they will wait till the sub-chiefs with the other bands come up. Now, the sooner the sun goes down the better. There is one thing, it will be dark down here an hour before it is on the hill-tops.”
“Why shouldn’t we fall back at once?” Tom asked.
“Because, like enough, they will open fire occasionally, and if we didn’t reply they would think we had made off, and would follow us, and pick up the trail where the horses left the valley. We have got to wait here until it is too dark for them to follow the trail. The moment it is dark enough for that we are off.”
It was just getting dusk, when Dave said, suddenly:
“There is one of the other bands coming up. They are a good bit away yet, but I can hear them.”
Dick could only make out a low, continuous murmur that sounded to him like a distant waterfall.
“What do you think, Joe,” Dave said; “would it be safe to make a run for it? We might beat off the first attack, but some of us are safe either to get killed or hurt too badly to travel. They will talk for a quarter of an hour at least after they come up, and by the time they find we have gone, and got their horses over these rocks, and got down to the mouth of this gorge, it will be too dark for them to follow the tracks.”
“I am with you, Dave,” Joe said, as he discharged his rifle. “That is one more wiped out. He was just going to fire to see whether we were here still. That has answered the question; now let us be off. Go as quiet as you can, lads, and don’t make the slightest noise. Just creep along until we are three or four hundred yards away. You may be sure that they are listening.”
For a quarter of a mile they moved very cautiously.
“Now I think we are safe,” Dave said, breaking into a run.
At a steady trot they kept on down the gorge. Just as they reached its mouth, they heard a faint yell in the distance.
“They have found we are off. They will be five minutes and more before they have brought up their horses and got over the rocks, and they will go pretty cautious, because they will be expecting to be ambushed. It is getting pretty dark now; we shall be in among the trees before they are out.”
CHAPTER XVI
On the Return
The trees began fully half a mile above the point where Zeke had made his way up with the horses, and, running now at the top of their speed, they were among them before the Indians issued from the gorge.
The fugitives went on at a slower pace among the trees, until they heard a war-whoop, and knew that the leading Indians had passed out.
“Now throw yourselves down,” Dave said, “and just lie as still as mice—the slightest noise would tell them we had taken to the wood. We want them to go straight on for a bit.”
In four or five minutes they heard the tramping of horses, and a party of Indians rode down the valley.
“There are over fifty of them,” Dave whispered. “I expect the other two bands must have come up together. Now let us get up as high as we can. As long as they are galloping they won’t hear any little noise we may make, but mind how you go, lads. Don’t step on a twig, don’t brush against any dead wood that might crack, and mind you don’t set a stone rolling.”
They climbed for ten minutes, and then came to a spot where they had a view through the trees down the valley.
“There they are in a heap about a mile down,” Joe said, and the boys in the moonlight could see a dark mass gathered in the middle.
“They are having a talk over it,” Dave said; “they know if we held on down the valley they would have overtaken us by this time, and they know we have taken to the wood one side or the other. I recken they won’t think it any use searching for us to-night, but maybe they will go straight on for a bit. They won’t know how long a start the horses may have had, and will think we may have had them in the gorge, and have mounted and ridden down. Yes; there they go. Now we can move on again without fear of being heard.”
Half an hour later they joined Zeke, who was with the horses a hundred yards over the crest of the hill in a line with the two trees.
“No one hurt?” he asked, as they approached.
“Nary a scratch, Zeke. We have wiped out eight of them. The rest have just gone tearing down the valley.”
“Well, we had best be moving so as to get as far as we can before we lose the moon.”
“That won’t be till within an hour of daylight,” Zeke said. “Now, which way shall we go?”
“I think we had better keep along the hillside, Zeke. We can travel fast here, and can get so far that when they find the trail in the morning, and follow us, we shall be too far away for them to overtake us before nightfall.”
So day after day they traveled, sometimes in deep ravines, sometimes high up among the hills, sometimes coming upon a stream and taking in a supply of water, and sometimes well-nigh mad with thirst. They had cut up two of the empty water-skins and had made rough shoes for their horses, and believed that they had entirely thrown their pursuers off the trail, winding along on what was little more than a goat’s track up the steep face of a valley, the opposite side of which was a perpendicular cliff. They had nearly gained the top when the crack of a rifle was heard from the opposite cliff, which was not more than two hundred yards away, although the depth of the gorge was fully a thousand feet. Looking across they saw that nearly opposite to them stood an Indian village, and that a number of redskins were running toward the edge.
“Hurry up, hurry up!” Dave shouted. “It is too far for them to shoot straight, but a stray bullet might hit us. Push on, lads, with the ponies. We will give them a shot or two. Our rifles will carry that distance easy enough.”
The lads pushed on while the three miners opened fire. There was but another fifty yards to climb. They could hear the sharp ping of the bullets round them. One of the ponies gave a sudden start, stumbled forward, and then rolled over the edge. In another minute the rest gained the plateau.
“Oh, Dick, it is one of the treasure ponies,” Tom exclaimed.
“That is a bad job, Tom; which is it?”
“The gray.”
“Better him than the others. It was one of his bags that we took the gold out of to make us up twenty pounds each, so there aint above seventy pounds lost. Come on, let us get beyond range. We don’t want to lose any more.” When they got two or three hundred yards further