Few situations are more trying than
that of being followed at night by what we suspect
is an enemy. The furtive glances to the rear show
the foe too indistinctly for us to recognize him,
and the imagination pictures the swift, stealthy attack
and the treacherous blow against which it is impossible
to guard.
There was little of this dread, however,
in the case of our friends, for they felt strong enough
to take care of themselves. Moreover, all three
formed an instant suspicion of the identity of the
man.
It was Felix Brush at the rear who
first heard the faint footfalls, and, peering into
the gloom, saw the outlines of a man and beast a few
rods distant, coming steadily up the trail in the same
direction with himself. A few minutes later the
halt was made and all eyes were turned toward the
point whence the man was approaching. He must
have noticed the stoppage, but he came straight on
until he joined the group.
“Howdy, pards,” was his greeting.
“I thought it was you, Vose,”
said the captain, sharply; “what do you mean
by following us?”
“What right have you to get
in front of me? Don’t I have to make a
trip to Sacramento three or four times each year?”
“But you are not accustomed to start in the
night time.”
“And I never knowed it was your
custom to leave New Constantinople in the middle of
the night; leastways I never knowed you to do it afore.”
“We have important business,”
added the captain brusquely, uncertain as yet whether
he ought to be displeased or angered by the intrusion
of Adams.
“So have I.”
“What is it?”
“Your good.”
“I don’t understand you; explain yourself.”
“There ain’t one of you
three that knows the way through the mountains, and
if you undertook it alone, it would take you three
months to reach Sacramento.”
This was a new and striking view of
the situation, but the parson said:
“Each of us has been over it before.”
“Sartinly, but one trip nor
half a dozen ain’t enough. You lost your
way the first hour in Dead Man’s Gulch; if you
hadn’t done so, it would have took me a blamed
sight longer to find you; there are half a dozen other
places in the mountains ten times worse than the one
where you flew the track. Howsumever, if you don’t
want me, I’ll go back.”
And Vose Adams, as if his dignity
had received a mortal hurt, began turning his mule
around.
“Hold on,” interposed
Captain Dawson; “you have put things in their
true light; we are very glad to have you with us.”
“That makes it all right,”
was the cheery response of the good natured Vose;
“I never like to push myself where I ain’t
wanted, but as you seem glad to see me, after having
the thing explained, we won’t say nothing more
about it. Howsumever, I may add that I obsarved
you started in such a hurry that I thought it warn’t
likely you fetched any vittles with you, so I made
up a lunch and brought it with me, being as you may
not always have time to spare to shoot game.”
The chilliness of Vose Adams’
greeting changed to the warmest welcome. He had
shown more thoughtfulness than any of them, and his
knowledge of the perilous route through the mountains
was beyond value. Indeed, it looked as if it
was to prove the deciding factor in the problem.
“Do you know our business, Vose?” asked
the captain.
“I knowed it the minute I seen
you sneaking off like shadows toward the trail.
I hurried to my cabin, got a lot of cold meat and bread
together and then hunted up Hercules, my boss mule.
He isn’t very handsome, but he has a fine voice
and has been through these mountains so many times
that he knows the right road as well as me. I
knowed you would travel fast and didn’t expect
to overhaul you afore morning, but you went past the
right turn and that give me a chance to catch up sooner.”
“But how was it you suspected
our errand?” persisted the captain.
“How could I help it? What
else could it be? I seen the miss and the leftenant
start for Sacramento, and being as you took the same
course it was plain that you was going there too,
if you didn’t overtake ’em first.”
“You saw them start!”
thundered the father of Nellie Dawson; “why
didn’t you hurry off to me with the news?”
“Why should I hurry off to you
with the news?” coolly asked Vose Adams; “it
wasn’t the first time I had seen the two ride
in that direction; sometimes she was with you, or
with the parson or Ruggles, and once or twice with
me. Would you have thought there was anything
wrong if you had seen them?”
“No, I suppose not,” replied
the captain, seeing the injustice of his words; “but
I have been so wrought up by what has occurred that
I can hardly think clearly. I ask your pardon
for my hasty words.”
“You needn’t do that,
for I see how bad you feel and I’m sorry for
you.”
“When was it they left?”
“Early this afternoon.”
“There was no one with them of course?”
“Nobody except that big dog
they call Timon; he was frolicking ’round the
horses, as if he enjoyed it as much as them.”
Every atom of news was painful, and
yet the afflicted father could not restrain himself
from asking questions of no importance.
“About what hour do you think it was when they
left?”
“It must have been near two
o’clock when the leftenant fetched up his horse
and the pony belonging to the young lady. She
must have been expectin’ him, for she come right
out of the house, without keeping him waitin’
a minute. He helped her into the saddle, while
they talked and laughed as happy as could be.”
This was wormwood and gall to the
parent, but he did not spare himself.
“Did you overhear anything said by them?”
“I wouldn’t have considered
it proper to listen, even if they hadn’t been
so far off I couldn’t catch a word that passed
atween ’em.”
“Was there anything in their
actions to show they intended to take a longer ride
than usual?”
“I don’t see how there
could be,” replied the puzzled Adams, while
Parson Brush, understanding what the distraught captain
meant, explained:
“Was there anything in their
appearance which suggested that they meant to take
anything more than an ordinary gallop?”
“I didn’t think of it
at the time, but I can see now there was. Each
of them had what seemed to be extra clothing and perhaps
they had food, though I couldn’t make sure of
that. You know there has been something in the
sky that looked like a coming storm, and I thought
it was on that account that the clothing was took
along. Then, as the leftenant had knocked off
work, it might be he was not feeling very well.”
“The scoundrel made that very
excuse for leaving me,” bitterly commented Captain
Dawson, “but he wouldn’t have taken the
clothing as part of the same design for there was
no need of anything of the kind. They laid their
plans carefully and everything joined to make it as
easy as possible.”
“Your thoughts were precisely
what ours would have been,” said the parson,
drawn toward the messenger unjustly accused by the
captain in the tumult of his grief;” if we had
seen the two start, we should have believed it was
for one of the usual gallops which the young lady is
so fond of taking; but, Vose, if we would have certainly
gone astray in the mountains, without your guidance,
how will it be with them, when she has never been
over the trail and he has ridden over it but once?”
“They are sure to have a tough
time of it which will make it all the harder for us.”
“How is that?”
“Some good luck may lead them
right; more than likely, howsumever, they’ll
get all wrong; therefore, if we stick to the path we
may pass ’em a half dozen times. You see
it’s the blamed onsartinty of the whole bus’ness.”
“I would not question your wisdom
on such matters, Vose, but when I remember that each
of them is riding a horse, and that the two must leave
traces behind them, I cannot apprehend that we shall
go very far astray in our pursuit. The most likely
trouble as it seems to me is that they will travel
so fast that it will be almost impossible to overtake
them.”
“If they can manage to keep
to the trail, it is going to be hard work to come
up with them. You haven’t forgot that when
I’m pushing through the mountains I sometimes
have to hunt a new trail altogether.”
“That is due to the trouble with Indians?”
“Precisely; sometimes it’s
a long, roundabout course that I have to take, which
may keep me off the main course for a couple of days,
or it may be for only a part of the day, but Injins
is something that you must count on every time.”
“And they are as likely to meet them as we?”
“More so, ’cause they’re
just ahead of you. Oh, it was the biggest piece
of tomfoolery ever heard of for them to start on such
a journey, but what are you to expect of two young
persons dead in love with each other?”
This was not the kind of talk that
was pleasing to the father, and he became morosely
silent. It was equally repugnant to Ruggles and
the parson to hear Nellie Dawson referred to as being
in love with the execrated officer. Ruggles was
grim and mute, and the parson deftly drew the conversation
in another direction.
“I would like to ask you, Vose,
how it was that Lieutenant Russell did not take the
other horses with him, so as to make it impossible
for anything in the nature of pursuit?”
“There might be two reasons;
he may have thought it would be mean to hit you below
the belt like that; he was too honorable ”
“It warn’t anything like
that,” fiercely interrupted Ruggles.
“Then it must have been that
if he had took all the animals with him, even though
they was a considerable way down the gulch, the thing
would have been noticed by others, who would have wanted
to know what it meant.”
“No doubt you have struck the
right reason. Had the start been in the night
time, he would have made sure that not even the mules
were left for us. But, Vose,” added the
parson gravely, “we would be much better pleased
if when you referred to the lieutenant, you said nothing
about ‘honor.’”
“Oh, I am as much down on him
as any of you,” airily responded Vose; “and,
if I git the chance to draw bead on him, I’ll
do it quicker’n lightning. Fact is, the
hope of having that same heavenly privilege was as
strong a rope in pulling me up the trail after you
as was the wish to keep you folks from gettin’
lost. But, pards, Hercules is rested and I guess
likely your animals are the same, so let’s be
moving.”
Although Captain Dawson had been silent
during the last few minutes, he did not allow a word
to escape him. He knew Vose Adams was talkative
at times, due perhaps to his enjoyment of company,
after being forced to spend weeks without exchanging
a word with any one of his kind, but there was no
overestimating his value, because of his knowledge
of the long, dangerous route through the mountains.
When, therefore, the party were about to move on,
the captain said:
“Vose, from this time forward
you are the guide; the place for you is at the head;
you will oblige me by taking the lead.”
Vose accepted the post of honor, which
was also the one of peril, for it is the man in his
position whose life hangs in the balance when Indians
are concerned. But there was no hesitancy on his
part, though he was well aware of the additional risks
he incurred.
“There’s one good thing
I can tell you,” he said, just before they started.
They looked inquiringly at him and he explained:
“The hardest part of the climbing
is over, that is for the time,” he
hastened to add, seeing that he was not understood;
“you’ll have plenty more of it before
we see Sacramento, but I mean that we have struck
the highest part of the trail, and it will be a good
while before there’s any more climbing to do.”
“That is good news,” said
Ruggles heartily, “for it has been mighty tough
on the animals; I ’spose too, the trail is smoother.”
Adams laughed.
“I am sorry to say it’s rougher.”
Ruggles muttered impatiently, but
the four took up the task, Adams in the lead, with
the rest stringing after him in Indian file. The
declaration of Vose was verified sooner than was expected.
While the mule was so sure-footed that he seemed to
meet with no difficulty, it was excessively trying
to the horses, who stumbled and recovered themselves
so often that Captain Dawson began to fear one or more
of them would go lame. Still in his anxiety to
get forward, he repressed his fears, hoping that there
would be some improvement and cheering himself with
the belief that since all had gone well for so long,
it would continue on the same line.
Once, however, his horse made such
an abrupt stumble that the captain narrowly saved
himself from being unseated. On the impulse of
the moment he called to Adams in advance:
“Vose, I am afraid this won’t do!”
The leader did not look around and acted as if he
had not heard him.
“I say, Vose, isn’t it
better that we should wait till our horses can see
the way?”
Since the leader took no notice of
this demand, the captain concluded his fears were
groundless and said no more.
“If he thinks it safe for us
to keep on, I shall not oppose.”
But Captain Dawson might have opposed,
had he known the truth, for, strange as it may seem,
Vose Adams did not hear the words addressed to him,
because he was asleep on the back of his mule Hercules,
as he had been many a time while riding over the lonely
trail. In truth, there was some foundation for
his declaration that he could sleep more soundly on
the back of his animal than while wrapped up in his
blanket in some fissure among the rocks. Fortunately
for him, however, these naps were of short duration,
and, while indulging in them, he relied upon his animal,
which had acquired a wonderful quickness in detecting
danger. The slightest lagging in his gait, a halt,
a turning to one side or a whinny was sufficient to
bring back on the instant the wandering senses of
the rider. In the present instance his slumber
was not interrupted until Hercules, seeing exactly
where he was, dropped his walk to a lagging gait.
On the very second Vose Adams opened
his eyes. So naturally that no one suspected
anything, he checked his animal and looked around.
“Pards, we’ve reached
a ticklish spot, and it’s for you to say whether
we shall wait for daylight afore trying it.”
“What is its nature?”
asked the captain, as he and the two behind him also
reined up their animals.
“The trail winds through these
peaks in front, and instead of being like that we’ve
been riding over all along, keeps close to the side
of the mountain. On the right is the solid rock,
and on the left it slopes down for I don’t know
how many hundred feet, afore it strikes bottom.
Once started down that slide, you’ll never stop
till you hit the rocks below like that mass of stone
that tumbled over in front of you.”
“How wide is the path?” asked the parson.
“There’s more than a mile
where it isn’t wide enough for two of us to
ride abreast, and there are plenty of places where
a horse has got to step mighty careful to save himself.
Hercules knows how to do it, for he larned long ago,
but I have my doubts about your hosses.”
“It might have been better after
all if we had brought the mules,” said the captain.
“Not a bit of it, for Hercules
is the only one that knows how to git over such places.”
“How do the others manage it?”
“They’ve never tried it
in the night time; that’s what I’m talking
’bout.”
Adams’s description enabled
the others to recall the place. It was all that
had been pictured and they might well pause before
assuming the fearful risk. One reason for wishing
to press forward was the knowledge that at the termination
of the dangerous stretch, the trail was so smooth
and even that for a long distance it would be easy
to keep their animals at a gallop, while still further
the peril appeared again.
Captain Dawson once more struck a
match and looked at his watch.
“Half-past three; in two hours
it will begin to grow light; if no accident happens
we shall be at the end of the ugly piece of ground
by that time, where the traveling is good. It
is a pity to lose the opportunity, but I will leave
it to you, parson and Ruggles; what do you say?”
“Our horses have been pushed
pretty hard, but they are in good condition.
I hate to remain idle.”
“Then you favor going ahead?”
“I do.”
“And you, Ruggles?”
“I feel the same way.”
“That settles it; lead on, Vose.”
“I’m just as well suited,
but keep your wits about you,” was the warning
of the leader, whose mule instantly responded, stretching
his neck forward and downward and occasionally snuffing
the ground, as if he depended on his sense of smell
more than that of hearing.
The task was a nerve-wrenching one,
and more than once each of the three regretted their
haste in not waiting for daylight; but, having started,
there was no turning back. To attempt to wheel
about, in order to retrace their steps, was more perilous
than to push on, while to stand still was hardly less
dangerous.
The moonlight gave such slight help
that the four depended almost wholly upon the instinct
of their animals. Hercules never faltered, but
advanced with the slow, plodding, undeviating certainty
of those of his kind who thread their way through
the treacherous passes of the Alps. Once his
hind hoof struck a stone which went bounding down the
precipice on his left, until at the end of what seemed
several minutes, it lay still at the bottom.
Neither animal nor rider showed the least fear, for
in truth both were accustomed to little slips like
that.
“I’m blessed if this isn’t
the most ticklish business that I ever attempted,”
muttered Captain Dawson; “I never had anything
like it in the army; it reminds me of scouting between
the lines, when you expect every second a bullet from
a sharpshooter ”
At that instant his horse stepped
on a round, loose stone which turned so quickly that
before he could recover himself the hoof followed the
stone over the edge of the precipice. The horse
snorted and struggled desperately, and the brave rider
felt an electric shock thrill through him from head
to foot, for there was one moment when he believed
nothing could save them from the most frightful of
deaths.
The left hind leg had gone over the
rocky shelf, which at that point was very narrow,
and the hoof was furiously beating vacancy in the
despairing effort to find something upon which to rest
itself. His body sagged downward and the rider
held his breath.
“Steady, my boy!” he called,
and with rare presence of mind allowed the rein to
lie free so as not to disconcert the steed.
The tremendous struggle of the intelligent
animal prevailed and with a snort he recovered his
balance and all four feet stood upon firm support.
“That was a close call,”
observed the parson, whose heart was in his mouth,
while the brief fight for life was going on.
“It was so close that it couldn’t
have been any closer,” coolly commented the
captain, fully himself again.