Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > Silver Canyon: A Tale of the Western Plains > This page
The Silver Canyon: A Tale of the Western Plains, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 36. Another Friend Comes Back |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER THIRTY SIX. ANOTHER FRIEND COMES BACK Watch was set that night as usual, but it came on so pitchy dark that nothing could be made out distinctly a yard away. Bart was with the Beaver and Joses in their old place in the gallery, fortunately well-sheltered by the rock overhead, for the rain came down in torrents, and gurgled loudly as it rushed in and out of the crevices of the rock, finding its way to the plains. "How uneasy the cattle seem!" said Bart once, as they could be heard lowing down below in the darkness. "'Nough to make 'em," said Joses, with a chuckle; "they'll have got wet through to-night, and I daresay there'll be water enough in the stable for the horses to nearly swim." "What a night for the Apaches!" said Bart after a pause, as they crouched there listening to the hiss and roar of the falling waters. "Suppose they were to come; we would never see them." "But they wouldn't in a night like this," replied Joses. "Would they, Beaver?" "Beaver don't know. Beaver think much," replied the chief. "He and his men would come if they wanted their enemies' horses; but perhaps the Apaches are dogs and cowards, and would fear the rain." Towards morning the rain ceased, and with the rising sun the clouds cleared away, the sun shining out brilliantly; and as the Beaver strained over the stones to get a good look into the corral, he uttered a hoarse cry. "What's wrong?" cried Bart and Joses, starting up from their wearying cramped position. "Cattle gone!" cried the Beaver; and a moment later, "Horses are gone!" It was too true; for, taking advantage of the darkness and the heavy rain, the Apaches had sent in a party of their cleverest warriors, who had quietly removed the barriers of rock, and the cattle had followed their natural instinct, and gone quietly out to the last hoof, the horses the same, making their way down to the pastures, where, at the first breaking of day, there was a strong band of mounted men ready to drive them right away into the plain, where the Beaver pointed them out miles away, moving slowly in the bright sunshiny morning. The alarm was given, but nothing could be done, and the Doctor looked with dismay at the lowering faces of the men who had agreed to follow his fortunes out there into the wilderness. "You never said that we should meet with enemies like this," said one man, threateningly. "You said you'd bring us where silver was in plenty, that was all." "And have I not?" cried the Doctor, sharply. "There, now, get to your work; we have plenty of food and water, and we are relieved of the care of our horses and cattle. The Apaches will not interfere with us perhaps now, and when they have gone, we must communicate with Lerisco, and get more cattle. Have we not silver enough to buy all the cattle in the province?" This quieted the complainers, and they went quietly to their tasks, getting out the ore in large quantities, though it was, of course, impossible to touch the vein in the canyon. That had to be reserved for more peaceful times. It almost seemed as if the Doctor was right, and that the Apaches would go away contented now; but when Bart asked the Beaver for his opinion, he only laughed grimly. "As long as we are here they will come," he said. "They will never stay away." "That's pleasant, Joses," said Bart; and then he began to bemoan the loss of his little favourite, Black Boy. "Ah! it's a bad job, my lad," said Joses, philosophically; "but when you go out into the wilderness, you never know what's coming. For my part, I don't think I should ever take to silver-getting as a trade." It was a serious matter this loss of the horses and cattle, but somehow the Indians seemed to bear it better than the whites. Whatever they felt they kept to themselves, stolidly bearing their trouble, while the Englishmen and Mexicans never ceased to murmur and complain. "How is it, Joses?" asked Bart one day, as they two were keeping guard by the gate. "One would think that the Indians would feel it more than any one else." "Well, yes, my lad, one would think so; but don't you see how it is? An Indian takes these things coolly, for this reason; his horse is stolen to-day, to-morrow his turn will come, and he'll carry off perhaps a dozen horses belonging to some one else." Their task was easy, for the Apaches seemed to have forsaken them in spite of the Beaver's prophecy, and several days went by in peace, not a sign being discovered of the enemy. The little colony worked hard at getting silver, and this proved to be so remunerative, that there was no more murmuring about the loss of the cattle and horses; but all the same, Bart saw that the Doctor went about in a very moody spirit, for he knew that matters could not go on as they were. Before long they must have fresh stores, and it was absolutely necessary for communications to be opened up with Lerisco if they were to exist at the mountain. "I don't know what is to be done, Bart," the Doctor said one day. "I cannot ask the Indians to go without horses, and if a message is not conveyed to the governor asking him for help, the time will come, and is not far distant, when we shall be in a state of open revolution, because the men will be starving." "Not so bad as that, sir," cried Bart. "Yes, my dear boy, it is as bad as that I begin to repent of coming upon this silver expedition, for I am very helpless here with these wretched savages to mar all my plans." It was the very next morning that, after being on guard at the gate all night, Bart was thinking of the times when, for the sake of protecting the cattle, they had kept guard in the gallery over the corral and by the cavern stable, when, out in the bright sunshine at the foot of the mountain, he saw a sight which made him rub his eyes and ask himself whether he was dreaming. For there, calmly cropping what herbage he could find, was his old favourite who had carried him so often and so well--Black Boy. "He must have escaped," cried Bart excitedly, "or else it is a trap to get us to go out, and the Indians are waiting for us." With this idea in his mind he called Joses and the Beaver, showing them the little horse, and they both agreeing that it was no trap or plan on the Indians' part, Bart eagerly ran out and called the docile little steed, which came trotting up and laid its soft muzzle in his hand. "If he could only have coaxed the others into coming with him," said Bart, "we should have been all right;" and leading his favourite up to the gateway, he coaxed it to enter and climb carefully up over the rugged stones till it was well in a state of safety, for he felt that he dared not risk leaving it outside. It was almost absurd to see the curious way in which the little horse placed one foot before another, pawing at the road to make sure of its being safe before he trusted it and planted it firmly down, and so on with the others; but Bart's word seemed to give him confidence, and step by step he climbed up till he was in the spot where his master intended him to stay, when he gave a loud snort as if of relief, and stood perfectly still while he was haltered to a peg. _ |
||