The Frontier Boys in the Grand Canyon Part 4

"I believe that we can outrun them," he said, "our ponies are apt to be in better condition than theirs and then too we are light riders. We will make for the mountains and when we reach them we ought to be safe."

"They are not going to cross the gulch," I said, in a relieved tone, "perhaps they will miss our trail after all."

"It looks to me though as if they were going to strike that place where we killed the antelope," said Jim.

He gave another look at the advancing braves, then he backed down into the gulch.

"Come, Jo," he said, decisively, "we will have to run for it, in a few minutes they will cut our trail. We will only lose by waiting."

Here is where Jim showed his qualities as a leader. I would have waited, hoping to escape detection, and leaving the enemy to make the first move and thus losing seconds that were more valuable than hours under ordinary circ.u.mstances.

Our ponies were very restless, with ears p.r.i.c.ked forward and shifting their front feet, first one and then the other. They knew even though they could not see. We swung silently into the saddles. Our ready rifles lay just in front of us.

"We are going to start now, Jo," said Jim, in a low, confident voice, "the south side of the gully is low, a hundred feet below us. That's where we show up; it will be a surprise for those beggars. When they see us, pick your Indian and fire. Remember to throw yourself to the side of your pony when they fire and run for it."

I was trembling so that I could scarcely keep my teeth from chattering.

Jim was naturally brave, but I was just the average as far as courage went. Still I was a boy of high spirit, and I struggled hard to throw off my fear as Jim was giving me his instructions.

Then I thought of what the captain had told us of the bravery of the American soldiers in the Mexican war. Of Grant who was so quiet and fearless. At least I was an American. I pulled myself together and was ready.

"All ready, Jo?" asked Jim.

"Yes," I replied.

I shall never forget the thrill of excitement that went through all my nerves as we started down the gully, Jim in the lead and my horse close on his hindquarters. The north bank was higher and still screened us, though we bent down to avoid any possibility of being seen.

Just as we turned out of the gully we heard a great powwow. The Apaches had found the place where the antelope had been killed. We were now on the plain in full sight. It seemed to me that we loomed up twice as big as life. We were absolutely stripped naked now of the protection of the gully.

Our very daring helped us, and we rode directly up the bank of the gully. The Apaches were gathered around the place where the antelope had lain. They were examining the ground, then suddenly two of the braves caught sight of us. Never was there a more surprised crowd of Indians.

Stealth they could understand, but not such open bravado. For a moment they seemed actually stunned.

Jim brought his rifle to his shoulder and fired and I promptly followed suit. An Indian and a pony fell. Two out at the first shot. It warmed our blood with confidence.

War was declared. With fierce yells they started in pursuit. Firing a volley that went wild, though there was a whistle of bullets over our heads and some spurted the dust on the plain short of us.

"Now let them go," yelled Jim.

Coyote and Piute seemed to fully realize the situation and away they flew, all their pent up energy going into a wild burst of speed that lasted for a half mile.

We gained on most of the Indians, but the big chief and two others kept nearly parallel with us on the other side of the gully, trying to cut us off from the mountains.

CHAPTER IV

THE CHASE

In the last mile, however, we pulled away from them, as their ponies did not have the well fed strength of ours. We exchanged shots as we rode, but the motion and speed made our aim uncertain, as fortunately too was theirs.

I found out later that the nearest call I had, or rather Coyote had, was where a bullet struck into the piece of antelope that was swung on my saddle.

With a last thrilling dash we charged into the shelter of the foothills among the rocks and pines. Here we swung off from our ponies and ran back to check our foremost pursuers. The three who were in the lead had absolutely disappeared.

But a half mile below were to be seen the rest of the Indians scampering like mad to overtake us.

"Where have those three gone?" I asked.

"They have taken to the ravine," replied Jim, "we can't stop here, they would surround us in a jiffy. We will have to go higher up the canyon."

There was no chance for us to make our home camp, for the Indians that were coming up the plain, would have headed us off.

So we sprang on our ponies again. They had recovered their wind in the brief rest we had given them. With the impetus of the great danger just behind us we started on a reckless dash up the canyon. We were determined to find some place we could defend, even if we could not escape.

We tore through the brush, jumped fallen logs, scrambled between rocks, zigzagged from this side to that of the ravine that was not precipitous enough for a canyon.

We urged our horses to the limit of their strength, and they were perfectly willing. Jim was in the lead and his unerring quickness of instinct guided him in finding the best trail.

The storm was darkening down the mountains before us and the thunder was rolling from height to height. The gray rain was sweeping down from the summits it seemed to us as if in a solid wall.

The ravine now broadened into a sort of a valley with high mountain sides partially clothed with pines, in some places very thick, and on the upper slopes were great granite boulders.

We saw above us now a conical hill, several hundred feet high, with a growth of pine upon the slopes and crowned with great rocks. It was half a mile distant and near the center of the valley.

"There is the place for us," said Jim, "if we are brought to bay."

"It looks to me as if we were going to stand these beggars off," I said, "until we can cross over the mountains to our camp."

"Yes, but you never can tell in this country what is going to happen,"

said Jim.

We caught occasional glimpses of our pursuers down the ravine but they had not gained much on us. We skirted the base of the conical hill and had gone on for a short distance; it was growing dusky under the shadow of the storm, when a zigzag flash of lightning revealed the slope above us with startling distinctness.

"See what's ahead," I cried, for Jim was looking over his shoulder at the Indians following us.

A party of braves were trailing down the upper slope.

One thing and only one thing was left for us to do. Instantly we turned our horses squarely around and made for the hill we had just pa.s.sed.

We were not a second too soon, for the first party were coming up the ravine, running swiftly like hounds upon our trail. We fired one volley and then charged up the slope full tilt over rocks, dodging as best we could the trees.

It did not take us long to reach the summit. The Indians did not attempt to follow us, but spread out under shelter, satisfied apparently to have us surrounded. In a short time the upper party of braves had joined forces with our pursuers.

Before we had fairly reached the top the rain swept down the mountain valley, giving us protection from the marksmanship of the enemy.

"This place is all right," said Jim, "we could stand them off for a hundred years if we had food and water."

"Yes," I joined in, "it is like a regular fort only we can't get the horses up."