The Boy Ranchers Among the Indians Read online

  "But what that move means I'd like to know," mused Rosemary.

  It was rather a puzzle to her and her brother. All they were sure of was what they saw—that the Yaquis had separated, most of them following Paz, while the captives were left in charge of the villainous Mike and his selected followers.

  Rosemary slipped her hand into her pocket to feel the handle of her automatic.

  CHAPTER XIX

  THE FIGHT

  The discovery of the Indian trail, and the unmistakable evidence that the marks had been left by a band of Yaquis, was the most encouraging news the boy ranchers and their friends had received since starting out to rescue Rosemary and Floyd. It was a fortunate meeting with the U.S. Troopers.

  "Only for that," observed Bud, as he rode along with his cousins, "we'd have been way off. We were headed just in the opposite direction when we took to cover thinking the Yaquis were coming after us."

  "Yes, and the longer we traveled the farther off we'd be," agreed Nort.

  "It's lucky all around."

  "It'll be luckier when we come up to this band of Greasers and take

  Rosemary and Floyd away," declared Dick.

  "Just think!" exulted Nort. "We'll soon be taking part in a real Indian fight! I didn't think there could be such a thing outside of a novel."

  "Are these Yaquis real Indians?" asked Dick. "They don't impress me that way. Seems more like fighting some low down colored men."

  "I wouldn't insult a decent negro by comparing him to an Indian of the present Yaquis tribe," laughed Bud. "They aren't at all alike. But the Yaquis are real Indians of one of the Mexican races—a race that was once among the best. Of course, even then, they weren't like our American Indians."

  "I guess I'm looking for tomahawks and scalping knives and listening for warwhoops!" admitted Dick. "I have an Indian stone pipe home, with a long flat stem, made of a piece of oak, with designs burned in it. Around one end are wound some red and blue beads, and the stem has some old faded ribbons tied to it. Have the Yaquis anything like that?" he asked Bud.

  "Not that I know of. The present generation smoke cigarettes when they can get 'em, something no self-respecting American Indian would dream of. Maybe the Yaquis have some such ceremony as smoking the peace pipe, but I don't know about it. I never saw any of their stone pipes. I know the kind you mean, Dick. The pipe part is hollowed out with a small hole—hardly holds enough tobacco for a good smoke, I'd say, though I never tried it."

  "That's the kind," Dick said. "Well, to my mind, these Yaquis aren't half so—so—well, you know what I mean," he concluded, at loss for the right word.

  "Picturesque," suggested his brother.

  "That's it! They aren't at all the kind of Indians you'd like to read about."

  "Rex Beach doesn't think much of 'em," commented Bud. "I read in one of his books where he says the Yaquis are a playful people, and they dearly love to hold up Southern Pacific trains. It's one of their favorite sports and pastimes."

  "Do you really think they do?" asked Dick. "If they're train robbers they have more gumption than I thought."

  "Well, I don't know," admitted Bud. "Rex Beach writes good stuff, and has some corking movies out, but maybe he was joking when he spoke of the Yaquis. Anyhow we know what they've done to our friends, and it's up to us to pay 'em back!"

  "You said a hollow-toothful that time, kid!" declared Rolling Stone, as he cantered up ahead to take part in a consultation, caused when a new "sign" was discovered.

  The discovery of new marks in the soil—marks left by the passing along of some Indians—was deemed of enough importance to call a halt, while those most familiar in the interpretation of such mystic evidences, made certain what they indicated.

  In this discussion the boy ranchers could have no part for they were not at all versed in the meaning of what was quite plain to Rolling Stone, some of the trooper scouts and a few of the cowboys.

  "We'll eat as long as we had to stop," decided Captain Marshall, when it was made known to him that some of the scouts wanted to scurry about in a circle, and ascertain if there were any more evidences that would help solve many vital questions.

  The troopers had come out well rationed—much better so, in fact than had our friends, and the soldiers extended an invitation to their comrade in arms to partake of "grub," an invitation that was quickly accepted. For the American soldier is the best fed of any in the world.

  In the midst of the meal word was sent back to have Buck Tooth, the old Indian in the service of Bud, to come out to where the trooper scouts and cowboys were having a consultation.

  "Buck Tooth can tell 'em what's what," declared Bud. "He claims to be a Yaqui, though since these imps have pulled off this stunt I think I'll get Buck Tooth to change his tribe. But he can read Indian sign all right."

  This was evidently so for, a little later, exultant shouts on the part of the trooper scouts and the cowboys announced that something new had been found. And it was Buck Tooth's discovery as the boy ranchers learned soon.

  The old Indian had carefully studied the trail, and then, going off to one side, had hunted about until he found what he was in evident search of—another trail, leading in the opposite direction from that our friends had been following.

  "Yaquis come 'long here—go up to mountain, then come back 'gin, same way like, then go like so," and Buck Tooth held out his arm stiffly, extending two fingers of his hand wide apart like a fork.

  "I see what he means!" exclaimed Snake Purdee. "They doubled on their track for part of the way back, and then branched off from the trail, thinking to fool us. But they didn't."

  "It looks that way," agreed Lieutenant Snow. "This trail Buck Tooth discovered is much the fresher. We ought to follow that."

  And this they did, after a hasty meal.

  Once more they were after the Yaquis, and late that night one of the scouts in the lead car riding back at full speed with the news:

  "They're right ahead of us!"

  "Wow!" yelled Bud.

  "Hurray!" shouted Dick.

  "Get ready for the fight!" cried Nort.

  "Wait a minute now, boys!" advised Snake. "You may have a proper part in the fracas, but remember we're with the United States troops, and under the leadership of Captain Marshall. We must do as he says."

  "Oh, I guess the Captain will give the boys a chance," said Lieutenant

  Snow with a smile, as he gave an order to the buglar.

  The stragglers rode in, the troops were quickly formed for immediate action, and other scouts were sent out to report on the location and disposition of the Yaquis, which were about three miles in advance, the first scout said.

  "Did you see anything of Rosemary or Floyd?" asked Bud anxiously.

  "No. I wasn't close enough for that. But the beggars are legging it for all they're worth!"

  "Then let's get after them!" cried the Captain. "We don't want them to get away!"

  The pace had not been fast, so the horses were comparatively fresh, and they were now urged into a trot, while skirmishers were sent on ahead to receive the first reports of the advanced scouts.

  Suddenly, as the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, some of the scouts came riding back, pointing down into a small, rocky valley, while the foremost yelled:

  "They're making a stand down there!"

  "Come on!" cried Captain Marshall, and, a few minutes later the fight against the Yaquis began.

  CHAPTER XX

  THE WHITE FLAG

  The boy ranchers—at least two of them,—were much disappointed at the manner in which this fight against the Yaquis started. And I think I need not say that the two I mean were Dick and Nort. Bud, while he had never before taken part in a fight against Indians, did not expect so much of the romantically picturesque and so was not so disappointed.

  But like most healthy lads Nort and Dick, in their early days, had read many books about the west, stories of adventures among the cowboys, miners and Indians—especially th
e latter. And all the stories had to do with the dashing manner in which the redmen fought, when they fought in the open. Of course, when they had the chance, the Indians preferred to sneak up on their victims and take them unawares. It was easier than standing up against gunfire.

  But when the Indians had fought there was a dash and spirit about their attack that made the blood run faster in the veins. The redmen would begin circling about the band they were to attack, riding their ponies faster and faster as they approached, leaning over on the far side, to bring the animal's body between themselves and the hail of bullets. Then the doughty Indian, hanging to his saddle blanket by one moccasined foot would fire from under his pony's neck, dashing away in time to escape the white man's bullet.

  That was warfare to make any real lad wish to toss aside his school books and hike for the great WEST!

  And it was by anticipating such scenes as this that Nort and Dick were disappointed. But, in a way they had been prepared for it by seeing what manner of Indians the Yaquis were. No warpaint, no feathered headdresses, no necklaces of bears' claws, and of course no bows and arrows.

  It must be admitted that the stories on which Nort and Dick had fed their imaginations were true enough about the time they were written. But the romantic Indians died off, or were confined on reservations, and those who occasionally sneaked over the border from Mexico, to make raids by which they gathered in cattle, ponies and weapons, were not of this class.

  "It's like making an attack on a bunch of Greasers!" declared Nort, in some disgust, as the fight opened.

  But just then a bullet sang uncomfortably close to his head, and as he ducked down—too late of course had the shot been true—Bud laughed and said:

  "Don't lose sight of the fact that they can shoot!"

  Indeed the Yaquis, thus forced to make a stand and fight, were not going to give up easily. The soldiers, the outfit from Diamond X and the boy ranchers were to have no easy time of it.

  It was inspiring to witness the manner in which the troopers went about the business of rounding up the renegade Yaquis. At the first intimation that there was to be serious fighting, when the band had gotten close enough for effective work, the horses were sent back to be out of danger from the bullets. The animals belonging to Bud, Nort, Dick and their friends were taken in charge by some of the troopers. For it was vitally necessary that means of retreat or of advance be preserved. And of course there was no thought of retreat on the part of our friends.

  Buck Tooth, the old Indian, slid from his pony with a sigh of relief. He did not care for riding. He liked an automobile, but he was too fat to sit in comfort on a rangy cow pony.

  "Keep head down!" he advised Nort, as he saw the lad apparently duck a bullet.

  "Guess that's good advice," admitted the lad with a sharp intaking of his breath.

  "Do same like soldiers," went on Buck Tooth.

  And, as I have said, the example of the troopers was one to be followed. This was not the first time they had been in Indian fights, and against more worthy foes of the redman type. Each trooper picked out such natural shelter as was available, and then began looking over or around it for a sight of some human target at which to aim.

  This sort of warfare would be carried on until there was a chance to rush the Yaquis, when the horses could be brought up for this purpose, or the charge made on foot. The Indians, exercising as great care for their steeds as had the white men, had also sent the ponies to the rear.

  The place of the fight was about the middle of a small valley, closed in at either end by broken hills of rock, while rocks and great boulders were scattered over the floor of the vale, thus affording natural shelter for both sides. The rising ground at the rear of each party prevented the chance of a rapid retreat, and it was evident that the fight would go to a "finish."

  Just how large the party of Yaquis was could not be told, but Captain

  Marshall believed he had more men than were rallied to the support of

  Paz, the notorious leader of the Mexicans.

  "But I haven't seen Rosemary or Floyd," remarked Nort, as he wormed himself into a hollow place behind a rock, not far from Dick and Bud.

  "Well, they are probably back in the rear. That's where they generally keep their captives," explained Dick. "If they see the fight going against them they'll send word back and some party will scoot out with our friends."

  "Then we'll have the chasing to do all over again," ruefully observed

  Nort.

  "Oh, I guess Captain Marshall knows a trick or two," commented Bud. "Look, he's sending some of his men out now to try and get in the rear of the Yaquis."

  Dick and Nort turned to see a detachment of the troopers making their way on hands and knees out among the rocks. Their object was what Bud had stated—to get in the rear of the Indians and not only attack them from that vantage point but also to prevent a retreat with the captives, in case Rosemary and Floyd were at that point.

  And now the fight began in earnest.

  With each party in a position advantageous to it the first few minutes of attack and defense were marked only by firing that accomplished nothing.

  That is to say there was an exchange of bullets, most of which spattered against the rooks, sending up sprays of vicious lead or showers of pulverized stone, but inflicting no dangerous wounds. One of the troopers was temporarily blinded by some of this stone dust getting into his eyes when a bullet struck the rock just over his head, and several others, including Lieutenant Snow, were "creased" by bullets when they exposed an arm or leg. But these were only trifles in the day's adventure.

  If the Yaquis were not as romantic, tricky and brave as the old Apaches or Sioux, they were no quitters, and they seemed to be well directed. For after the first scattered firing on their part, they began a fusillade which increased in intensity.

  "They aren't saving ammunition," commented Snake, as he drew a quick sight on an exposed head, and had the satisfaction of seeing it drop back out of sight in a manner that told of a hit.

  "I guess they know it's a case of shoot or be shot," remarked Yellin'

  Kid, his tones low, for a wonder.

  It must be stated that the troopers and those with them fought under a better system, and were better trained, to say nothing of being better individual marksmen. For this reason the casualties on the side of the Yaquis soon began to mount up. Occasional yells, and the spasmodic leaping up of some "warrior" as he was hit after a careless exposure of limb or body, told that the renegades were paying toll.

  On the other hand more than one trooper was hit, two being killed not far from Bud and his cousins.

  Nor did our heroes escape. For Nort received a nasty, but not dangerous wound in the left leg, while Dick, incautiously looking from behind his rock, to see the effect of one of his shots, felt a bullet clip the lobe of his right ear, bringing pain and plenty of blood.

  At first Bud and Nort thought Dick had been killed, for he fell back with a groan and his neck was stained a bright red, his ear bleeding freely. But after the momentary shock the lad raised himself—still keeping back of his rock, and cried:

  "I'm all right. That ear always was too long!"

  "Good stuff, kid!" cried one of the troopers. "Here, wind some of this on," and he tossed over a roll of antiseptic bandage.

  Minor hurts were thus quickly bound up, and Bud, having received a painful wound in the right hand, had to retire from the fight. He did not actually go to the rear, however, but remained with Nort and Dick, handing them cartridges to reload their weapons.

  "Gosh! This is rotten!" bewailed Bud, looking at his bandaged hand. It was dismay not at the nature of the wound, but because he could no longer "pepper" the Yaquis.

  And the Indians were being attacked with a vengeance and were being "peppered" to such good advantage that some of them rose up and started to run to the rear. This was the last running they did, however, for the unerring rifles of the troopers picked them off.

  And th
en the strategy of Captain Marshall had its effect. For suddenly the troopers he had sent to attack the rear of the Yaquis opened up a fire and this, being augmented by shots from the main body, soon threw the Indians into such confusion that the end was only a question of minutes.

  And it came suddenly. For just as Captain Marshall was preparing to order a charge, Snake gave a yell and shouted:

  "The white flag! They're quitting!"

  CHAPTER XXI

  THE TRICK DISCOVERED

  Truly enough, this had happened. On top of one of the jagged rocks, behind which they had conducted the defense that had failed, stood a ragged Yaqui Indian. To and fro, on the end of his gun, he waved not exactly a white flag, but a dirty rag that once might have been white. Objects of this hue did not long remain like the driven snow among the Yaquis.

  "Cease firing!" blared the bugle, and the spiteful rattle of the soldiers' guns stopped abruptly.

  "Cover the beggar, some of you," ordered Captain Marshall, "and a few of you get ready in case this is a trick and they try a rush. I'll look into this."

  "Let me go!" pleaded Lieutenant Snow eagerly. "I can sling their lingo a bit, Captain."

  "Very well," assented the commander. "But watch yourself, Mart. I don't trust the devils, though if they try any of their tricks we'll wipe out the whole band. I wish I had a rapid fire gun. We made a mistake coming off without it. But we had to leave in a hurry."

  During this brief talk, during which none of the soldiers or cowboys exposed themselves, the figure of the Indian continued to stand in full view and easy shot, waving the flag that told of a desire to surrender.

  Or did it? Was it but a trick? That remained to be seen.

  Seeing that his men were in readiness for quick work, Captain Marshall, himself holding his carbine where he could easily get at it, signalled to Lieutenant Stone to advance, under the flag of truce, to listen to the capitulation of the Yaquis. A trooper went with the lieutenant, carrying one of the company guidons, which, while not exactly a flag of truce served the purpose well enough. Besides the outfit from the fort and Diamond X were not surrendering.