The Boy Ranchers Among the Indians Read online

  This was soon done, and the baggage animals, at least, went forward with easier burdens. The trail became more rough as it led upward, but Snake explained that they would cross one range of the mountain, and come to a level plain which must be traversed before the second range would be reached.

  "And we'll either come across the Yaquis in the plain, or as we go up the second mountain," said the cowboy. "That will be about their limit I fancy."

  They camped that night on the downward slope of the first mountain, having crossed the ridge through a narrow pass, not easy to negotiate. There was a more tense feeling when this night camp was made than at any time before.

  "For it seems now, somehow," explained Bud, "that we're within striking distance of the Yaquis. We're trailing 'em close!"

  "The closer the better—so, we can get a few shots at 'em!" declared

  Nort.

  "Will they really make a stand and fight?" asked Dick.

  "I don't know," Bud replied. "I never—"

  "They'll fight all right!" interrupted Rolling Stone. "They'll fight now just through fear of being captured. The first hot impulses that caused them to run wild are cooling off. They'll be worse to tackle now than when they first took the war path, for they will be cool and calculating, while before they were hot headed, and anyone who used half his brains could best 'em. Yes, we aren't going to have a picnic."

  "Well, we didn't come for that," said Dick grimly.

  He and his companion boy ranchers were willing to endure all the hardships and dangers with the more seasoned cowboys, and Bud and Nort who, until within a comparatively recent time were unused to western ways, were now accounted as capable of Bud, than which there was no higher praise.

  There was evident in the manner in which campfires were built, and a system of sentinel guards posted, that the older men realized the nearness of danger. The cowboys had dropped their half bantering manner, and sat grim-lipped and thoughtful of eye about the blaze. This change in their manners affected our youthful heroes who looked at one another somewhat apprehensively, and more than once let their hands stray to their weapons.

  But the night passed without untoward incident, if we except a false alarm given by Bud when he was standing guard. He had been pacing backward and forward for some hours, and it was almost time for his relief, when he saw, peering over the top of a rock, what he took to be the feathered headdress of an Indian. Forgetting, for the moment that the Yaquis did not adopt the picturesque adornments of the American redmen, Bud fired, at the same time letting out a yell.

  Of course, this roused the whole camp, and you can appreciate Bud's chagrin when his "Indian" proved to be nothing more than a waving branch of a bush topping a rock. The waving leaves had looked like feathers in the starlight, by which alone Bud had seen them.

  "Well, I wasn't taking any chances," he said, when the cause of his alarm was ascertained.

  "That's right," Yellin' Kid assured him.

  Morning saw the party in saddle again, and as better time could be made on the down trail, they reached the intervening plain of the valley, between the two mountain ranges well before noon.

  A halt was made for "grub," and it was after this meal, when they were about to proceed again, that an astounding discovery was made. Dick gave the alarm. He had gone off a little way to get his pony, which had strayed, when he saw, on the far horizon, a band of horsemen. They were too distant to be made out clearly, but against the intensely blue sky Dick saw waving lances, and he at once shouted:

  "Indians!"

  This was enough to focus all eyes, first on him and then on the approaching band. The waving lances could plainly be seen now.

  "And look there!" cried Nort, as he pointed to the North, a direction exactly opposite to that whence the horsemen discovered by Dick were approaching.

  "More Indians!" shouted Yellin' Kid.

  Snake Purdee leaped to a high rock and with rapid gaze swept the horizon.

  "They're coming from all directions," he said grimly, as he leaped down and began a rapid survey of their position, with a view to its defence. "We're being surrounded!"

  And this was so. From all points there rode in on the outfit from Diamond X an ever narrowing circle of horsemen, many of whom carried lances which pointed toward the zenith.

  "They aren't Yaquis," exclaimed Rolling Stone. "Those Mexican Indians don't carry lances. They must have met up with a band from some American reservation and have gotten them to go on the warpath. This looks bad!"

  CHAPTER XV

  WITH THE TROOPERS

  With a skill and foresight which never seemed to leave them, the leaders of the rescue expedition had selected the place for the dinner stop with a view to its possible defense in case of emergency. This was part and parcel of life in the west, especially when on an expedition of this character.

  In consequence there were several natural places of refuge and hiding, behind which a fight could be conducted. And as soon as it was ascertained that a body of horseman—hostile it seemed they must be—were riding against them, the first thought was how best a fight could be conducted.

  "Get in the horses!" commanded Rolling Stone. "They'll shoot them off first crack out of the box, for they'll know we're done for without our animals."

  As the rescuers had been about to move when the approaching party was discovered, and as some of the cowboys actually had their horses in hand, the securing of the remainder of the steeds was a work of no great moment.

  At one edge of the roughly outlined circle in which the noon camp had been pitched, was a group of big rocks, that would make a natural stable and hiding place for the horses. The animals were led into this little corral, and made fast there by lariats. As much of the baggage as possible was piled in with the horses.

  This much done by Bud and his friends it was necessary to look to themselves, for the strange horsemen were slowly but surely coming on, and it was beyond question that they had entirely surrounded our heroes. From all points of the compass, a thin line it is true, but one in which there were no breaks, in came the attackers.

  "We've got to form a circle ourselves," said Snake grimly. "Get down as low as you can, boys, each one behind a rock, and with one at your back if you can make it. They won't rush us at first. They'll try to pick us off until they find out how many of us there are."

  Quickly the others followed his advice. It was an admirable place to defend, and other things being equal could be held by a small band against a large body. But the factors of food and water would enter into the fight, and though the camp was watered by a little stream, everyone from Diamond X knew the first act of the attackers would be to go higher up and cut off the supply of fluid. In this hot summer season men and beasts could only last a short time without water.

  Then, having seen to it that the boy ranchers and the others were in as good a position of defense as possible, Snake Purdee picked out his own little niche and laid out on the ground in front of him his supply of cartridges.

  Each man—and by "man" I include the boy ranchers—had a rifle and a revolver, or, rather, automatic, each weapon using cartridges of the same caliber. Thus only one sort of ammunition had to be packed, and there was greater efficiency afforded.

  "Get ready," called Yellin' Kid in as low a voice as he ever used. "They've come to a stop for a talk, and they'll begin shooting soon I reckon."

  The feet of the steeds ridden by the advancing horsemen had raised a cloud of dust which hung about them like a hazy curtain, preventing a clear view. In fact, after the first glimpse of the riders they had only been seen as dim figures approaching through this haze of dust.

  But now, as they had stopped, as Yellin' Kid had said, the dust began to drift away, and, for the first time our friends had a comparatively clear view of those surrounding them.

  It was Bud who first gave the good news. Looking intently at a horseman nearest him, the boy suddenly leaped to his feet and gave a shout that could be none other than joyous
in its meaning.

  "Get down, you idiot!" cried Snake. "Do you want a bullet through you?"

  But the lad continued to shout and yell, waving his hat, and there was no fusillade of shots from the ring of horsemen. Then, for the first time Bud made himself understandable, for he shouted:

  "They aren't Indians! They aren't Indians! They're United States

  Troopers! Hooray! Now we've got our help!"

  "Troopers?" repeated Snake, for a cloud of dust had blown about him, greatly obscuring his vision.

  "Troopers—sure!" yelled Nort, now seeing what Bud had beheld.

  And a moment later it was clear to all of the surrounded band that the horsemen were, indeed, mounted men of Uncle Sam's cavalry—a company of lancers, a type of the armed force that has gone out of existence now, but one which was very effective in some Indian fights.

  A bugle rang out clear and sweet from somewhere in that surrounding circle of troopers, and instantly the outer edges of the ring began closing in. Then our friends, knowing their fright had been without foundation, rose up from their hiding places and, standing together, with Snake at their head as commander, waited for what was to come next.

  It was not long in manifesting itself. A trooper, evidently an orderly from a group of officers in front of our friends, rode up, waved his hand in place of a salute when he saw he had to deal with one of his own kind, and asked:

  "Who are you and what are you doing?"

  "We're from Diamond X ranch," replied Snake, "and we're on the trail of the Yaquis who have captured some of our friends!"

  "Oh, the Yaquis!" exclaimed the trooper, in evident surprise. "Why, we're after the same bloody beggars! Glad to have met you. We seem to be off the trail for some reason. Captain Marshal will want to speak to you. Better come with me."

  "Wait 'til I get my horse," murmured Snake, for, like all westerners, he hated to take more than a few steps out of the saddle.

  A moment later he was riding toward the officers of Uncle Sam's troopers, while the remainder of the lancers riding in, mingled with the small force from Diamond X.

  "It's good to see you fellows!" chuckled Bud as the bronze-faced soldiers gathered around the boy ranchers.

  "We were just about to open fire on you," said one of the lancers, and Nort and Dick noticed that in addition to the steel-tipped weapon each trooper carried a carbine and wore a revolver in his belt. The lances were, in reality, more for show than for actual use, though in charging the hostile Indians the spears had served many a useful purpose.

  "Glad you didn't," said Yellin' Kid. "There'd have been trouble, for we were all primed for you," and he waved his hand toward the rocks amid which some cowboys were just arising, picking up the ammunition they had spread out for quick use.

  "We thought you were Yaquis, and we had orders to shoot to kill," explained another trooper.

  "And we took you for Indians—not exactly Yaquis, for they don't carry lances," said Dick. "I'm glad it was a mistake all around."

  "But say, do you fellows know anything about these dirty Mexicans who have crossed the border?" asked a third trooper, a lieutenant from his stripes, it would appear. "I won't call 'em Indians, though I reckon they are, of a sort. But where are they? We got orders to take after 'em, but we can't get sight of so much as a dirty blanket."

  "Well, we think we're on their trail," Bud answered, "though maybe we are as far off as you are. Anyhow—"

  But he did not complete the sentence. From the distance a single shot rang out, and as all turned they saw, standing on the sharp horizon line, a solitary figure, from near which arose a thin wisp of smoke.

  CHAPTER XVI

  INDIAN "SIGN"

  "What's that?" cried Snake, turning from where he had been talking with

  Captain Marshall. "Real Indians this time?"

  "Nothing to worry about," answered the commander of the troopers with a smile. "That's one of my scouts, and he's evidently found something."

  "Found something?" questioned the veteran cowboy.

  "Indian sign, most likely. I sent several men out, just before we sighted your party and took you for the Yaquis. I told my men, if they discovered anything, to get within sight of us and fire one shot. Then they were to stay on the spot until we came to investigate, and that's what we'll do now."

  "Do you think it's the trail of the Yaquis he has discovered?" asked

  Nort, waving his hand toward the solitary horseman.

  "It may be—I rather hope so, for we haven't had any luck thus far in locating the beggars. When we sighted you we thought we were in for a fight, but it didn't happen," the captain added, his voice quite rueful.

  "I notice you came along all primed for business!" chuckled Yellin' Kid.

  "But we were ready for you—in case you had turned out to be those

  Mexican imps!" added Rolling Stone.

  "Yes, you seemed to have picked out a good spot," complimented the cavalry captain. "We were just talking among ourselves that we were going to have trouble in getting you out, when we saw one of you wave a hat and then we knew it was all right. In a way we were glad, for this fighting is nasty business at best, though we don't pass any of it up when it comes our way," he added with an air of pride in his troop.

  "You weren't any gladder to find out there was a mistake than we were," said Dick. "You soldiers looked like a lot of Indians with lances and scalps dangling from them." Indeed the lances of the troopers were decorated with wisps from the tails of horses, and, at a distance, might have resembled grewsome human scalps.

  "There are few Indians, now-a-days who use lances," said Captain Marshall. "They went out of date about the time Fenimore Cooper wrote about Leather Stocking. The Indians didn't keep to their bows and arrows, or lances, once they could get guns and powder. I don't know much about the Yaquis, but I fancy they did the same—discarded their lances, if they ever used any, and their bows, for guns."

  "Another thing," added Lieutenant Snow, who was next in command to his captain, "scalps were too precious a trophy to dangle from the point of a lance. Some Indians may have tied strands of human hair on their lances, but I doubt if they used scalps. The scalps were hung at the belt of the man who took them, to be afterward displayed in his tepee. But I don't believe the Mexican Indians followed that practice, though of course I'm not certain about it."

  "The modern Yaquis are mean enough to do anything," said Rolling Stone. "What the old timers did doesn't matter now. It's what these of today do. And I reckon ye've heard how a party of 'em has taken prisoners some of their friends," and he waved his hand toward the outfit from Diamond X, of which he was not yet a full-fledged member.

  "Yes, we heard about the uprising," admitted Captain Marshall. "We had orders to take the trail, and we've been on it since. Well, as long as you are ready, we may as well trot over and see what the scout has to report. I hope he can put us on the real trail."

  The bugle sounded, the troopers formed, and with the boy ranchers and their friends falling in the rear, an unofficial part of the company of regulars, the cavalcade set forth again.

  On the way Snake Purdee, who rode beside Captain Marshall, told such details as he possessed about the capture of Rosemary and Floyd. The officer had heard pretty much the same story, for it had been wired to distant points on the theory that the Yaquis would scatter, and there was no telling in which direction they would travel.

  "So Del Pinzo is on the rampage again; is he?" asked the Captain, as they neared the lone scout, who was patiently waiting to impart such information as he had.

  "Well, he won't rampage an awful lot until he gets a new outfit!" chuckled Yellin' Kid, who had ridden up to be on hand when the scout was reached.

  "What do you mean? Did you shoot him up?" asked the cavalry captain. "If you did you ought to get a medal of honor, for of all the rascals in this section he's the worst."

  "We shot him and his followers up a bit," admitted Snake, "but we didn't damage 'em as we ought. However we
took their horse furniture and guns away and left 'em their animals. It'll be a few days before they get active again."

  "Good!" exclaimed Captain Marshall. "And now we'll hear what Kelly has to report."

  The scout saluted as his commanding officer rode up, and the others, realizing that there was a certain need of reserve in this first interview, held back until the captain should signify that he was ready to talk to them. For a time Captain Marshall and Private Kelly talked in low tones, the scout frequently leaning over to point to something on the ground, the captain gazing intently where his trooper indicated. Finally the commander waved his hand to invite his fellow officers and troopers, as well as the members of Diamond X, to approach.

  "Kelly has found it," said the captain. "Plenty of Indian sign, which shows the Yaquis, or some of them at least, passed this way. Here's the trail, and we'll follow it. Do you want to come with us?" he asked of Snake Purdee.

  "Well, we'd like to, if it isn't asking too much. Our main object is to get within shooting distance of these Yaquis, and save this Rosemary girl and her brother."

  "Precisely our object," the captain said. "And as long as we have the same business I think we can do better together than if we separate. Your men will undoubtedly be of service to us if the trail gets fainter, and there's no telling how many are in this band, so the more guns we have the better."

  "My idea," agreed the leader from Diamond X. "And now let's have a look at this Indian sign. Rolling Stone here claims to know a lot about the Yaquis, and he may be able to put us wise to some of their wrinkles. Come here, Stone!" he invited.

  In order not to obliterate the faint marks in the soil which indicated the passage of a body of horsemen, the troopers, with Bud and his friends, had halted some distance away from the lone scout. The latter had remained a little way off the trail, so his own horse's feet would not mingle with those of the enemy.