Lost in the Canon Part 36

"He will come to himself after a while," said Ulna, as he drew his foe to the shadow of a rock and placed his back against it.

But while prompted to this act of humanity, Ulna did not permit his heart to interfere with his head. According to all the rules of civilized warfare, the arms of an enemy belong to his conqueror, so he took the Apache's pistol and ammunition-belt, which also contained his long, keen scalping-knife.

These he fastened on his own person, and had scarcely finished when the wounded brave opened his eyes and looked about him in a dazed way. As soon as he saw Ulna he closed his eyes again and began to chant in a low solemn voice the death-song of his tribe.

He was in the power of his foe, and as he could not give mercy himself, for he did not know of such a thing, he expected that the Ute would put him to death, and his song told that he was ready to meet it without fear.

"Listen to me," said Ulna, laying his hand on the Apache's shoulder and speaking in a firm but kindly tone. "I am a Ute, but the whites have taught me to hate no man because of his tribe. Your life is your own; take it and make your way back to your friends who have lagged in the race, and tell them that the nephew of Uray does not hate nor kill the helpless."

"But I am an Apache. I have forfeited my life. I would take yours if I could. Why stay your hand? This is not the warfare that our fathers practised," said the astonished Apache.

"No, nor shall I ever practice such a warfare. Yet for the life I spare I would ask a favor."

"What is it?"

"Return to Blanco and tell him that the people now in his hands mean no harm. Tell him that if he guides them to Hurley's Gulch he will be well paid. Tell him that if he harms them, the whites will make war, nor stay their hands while there is an Apache left in the Mogollon Mountains."

With the last word Ulna waved his hand to the brave and sped away again to the eastward with the same tireless spring.

Ulna was miles away when the three Apaches, who had started out with the wounded man, made their appearance.

"Where is the Ute?" they asked.

"Gone," was the reply.

"And your arms?"

"They are gone, too."

"Who took them?"

"The Ute."

"Why then did he not take your life and your scalp?" they asked in great surprise.

"He stunned me with a shot which I was not expecting; but he stunned me more when he refused the death I was expecting," said the brave.

CHAPTER XXIX.-THE VERDICT AND SENTENCE.

In order that the jury might think over and discuss the evidence against Mr. Willett and Hank Tims it was decided to leave them in full possession of the tent in which the trial was held.

"When you've got yer minds made up," said the man who had been acting as judge, "let me know, and I'll come in and pa.s.s sentence."

This fellow had started out to convict the accused men, and, as we have seen, he let slip no chance to impress his prejudices on the jury.

Collins and Si Brill with two others, who had been the original guards, took charge of the prisoners while the jury were making up their minds, though Badger insisted that he should have the prisoners in his keeping.

"If I ain't to have 'em," he protested, "whar was the good of 'lectin'

me sheriff?"

"Not a bit of good," sneered Collins, "and if you'd had any s.p.u.n.k you wouldn't have took the place. Now, take my advice and git."

Badger did "git," that is, he sought out Frank Shirley, whom he found in the bar-room surrounded by a great crowd of men, who were drinking at his expense and discussing the verdict at the same time.

It seemed to be the opinion of nearly all present that the jury would soon bring in a verdict of "Guilty of the crime charged."

"If they don't do that," said the landlord, "then I'll tell you what I'm in for."

"What's that?" asked Badger.

"I'm in for hangin' every man on the jury, and the prizners with 'em, before the sun sets."

A cheer showed the favor with which this proposition was received.

When Shirley could get away from the crowd, he and Badger went down by the creek where they could talk without being overheard.

"Well, Badger, what do you think?" asked Shirley.

"'Bout the verdict?"

"Yes."

"No one can't think but one way after the evidence. Why, nothin' could be stronger."

"That's so; but do you think any one suspects?" asked Shirley, nervously.

"Suspects what?"

"That we put up the whole job."

"Not a soul," said Badger.

"I wish I could think that."

"But you can think it."

"You forget what Mr. Willett asked you when he was cross-examining."

"What was that?"

"His question was, '_Badger, did not you kill Tom Edwards?_'"

As Frank Shirley repeated these words he looked into Badger's face and saw the color flying and the thick lips trembling.