The Pike's Peak Rush Part 13

"Two stages travelin' together will hold off the Injuns," remarked the station agent.

"Heigh-ho!" drowsily yawned Harry, after dusk, from his blankets. "All's well that ends well--but I was getting a trifle worried."

He and Terry had decided to wait for the stages, and to let Duke and Jenny rest during at least half that next day. The fact is, they were willing to rest, themselves.

Toward noon the station men paused in their tasks, to gaze more and more frequently into the east.

"Thar they come," quietly informed one; and now all gazed, expectant.

"Right on time."

Upon the surface of the vast plains to the south of east had appeared a dot. It rapidly enlarged, and resolved into two dots, one behind the other. They were coming--they were coming: the first stagecoaches, sure enough; each drawn by four mules, driver on seat, other people on seat and roof, heads protruding from windows, mules at a gallop.

"Yes, sir-ee! On time to the minute."

Swaying and lurching and dust-enveloped, with creak of leather and sudden grind of brake-shoes, the leading stage slackened at the station, stopped abruptly, and setting the brake more securely the driver tossed his lines to the ground and in leisurely fashion descended. He was in slouch hat, white shirt-sleeves (or whitish, rather), yellow kid gloves and shiny boots. Somewhat of a dandy, he.

Another man swung down from the seat, after him; so did the pa.s.sengers atop the coach, and those within piled out. The second coach arrived in like fashion.

The first coach was painted red, the second green; and both were gilt striped and bore, in gilt letters, the announcement: "Leavenworth and Pike's Peak Express Company."

The station-agent's a.s.sistant bustled to unhitch the mules and put in fresh ones. The station agent served the dinner, of cold boiled buffalo meat, bread and coffee. The pa.s.sengers ate out of doors, sitting on the boxes and a nail-keg.

One of the pa.s.sengers who had ridden on top of the coach was a busy, inquiring man with a full brown beard and a blue eye and a long linen duster. After he had eaten he walked over to Harry and Terry.

"I'm Henry Villard, from the Cincinnati _Commercial_," he said, genially. "The station agent tells me that you boys have had quite an exciting experience on this new trail. Buffalo stampede, and a rescue, and all that. I'd like to hear about it and send it to my paper. It ought to make a good story."

The man who had occupied the seat with the driver also came over.

"A buffalo, a mule and a two-wheeled cart, eh?" he commented. "Well, I guess you'll make it, if you've got so far. But there are five thousand other pilgrims behind us, some with worse outfits than yours, and all pushing on by this same trail, to find the 'elephant.'"

Journalist Villard took notes; he even interviewed the boy in the tent.

The boy was now able to talk. He said that his name was Archie Smith. He and two others had started from Ohio, to walk to the diggin's. They had tried to cut across north from the Smoky Hill trail and had got lost--and the last he remembered he was wandering alone, so weak from hunger and thirst that he had fallen down.

The man who had spoken of the five thousand pilgrims behind (his name was Beverly D. Williams, and he was the stage-line superintendent, on his initial tour of inspection), helped Archie into the red coach.

"All aboard!" summoned the drivers, climbing to their seats. The pa.s.sengers hastily took their places. As the red coach started with a jump, from the window Archie waved his hand at Harry and Terry, and called again:

"Thanks. I owe you a lot. I'll see you at the mines. Don't forget. I'll see you at the mines."

With a jump the green coach started also. And away rolled, tugged by their galloping mules, the first stages for Pike's Peak, bearing Journalist Henry Villard of the Cincinnati _Commercial_ and Superintendent Williams, and those pa.s.sengers who, like Mr. Villard, were bent on discovering just how true the "elephant" stories were.

CHAPTER VII

SHEP DOES HIS DUTY

The Pike's Peak Limited prepared to follow.

"Five thousand pilgrims! Did you hear that? All coming along behind!"

exclaimed Terry, as he and Harry "hooked" the now rested Duke and Jenny to the cart. "These are new ones. He didn't say anything about the other trails."

"We heard how they were, before we left," reminded Harry. "And we saw a right smart smattering of folks at Manhattan, remember. Oh, I don't think we'll be lonesome."

"All you've got to do now is to follow the stage tracks," directed the station agent. "You'll come to stations every so often. But you'd best keep your water keg filled. There's no knowin' what'll happen on these plains."

"Yes, sir," concurred his helper. "And keep your weather eye peeled for Injuns. Don't let 'em bamboozle you or if they don't take your scalps they'll steal you blind. When Injuns come in, hang tight to your scatter-gun."

"Haven't seen any, so far," remarked Harry.

"No; but you can't tell. In my opinion that buff'lo stampede was caused by Injuns--like as not that was why the buff'lo drifted down on you in the fust place. And if you hadn't got out when you did, in a hurry, you'd have had more trouble, plenty."

The stages had long since disappeared in the west, but the tracks were plain. Tomorrow there would be other stages, and the next day others, and so on, had said the station men; and before the Limited had even sighted the mountains some of these same stages would be met coming back. That made travel at a walk seem rather slow, especially when gold was waiting only to be found.

A second pair of stages pa.s.sed them, with a swirl of dust and a cheer, late the next afternoon, but they found them spending the night at Station Thirteen, on the bank of another creek. Here they also camped.

"Twenty-five miles again," sighed Harry, satisfied. "We'll get there."

Duke and Jenny had indeed footed st.u.r.dily. The hurrying stages seemed to be an inspiration to them. They felt that they, also, were now going somewhere.

The coaches had been full. There were two women, who slept in the station tent. The men pa.s.sengers slept on the ground, under a canopy of gunny sacking stretched over stakes. For their own comfort the station employees were digging a cave in the side of an arroyo or dry wash, where they might house themselves and cook, in bad weather. Could fight off the Indians from it, too, they said.

The talk among the pa.s.sengers was mainly of buffalo, Indians and the other sights along the trail. The Indians had been bothering the timid pilgrims considerably, with begging and stealing, but had not bothered the stages.

"We'll take no chances, though," declared the stage-driver. "Never let an Injun think you're afraid of him--that's the secret. Once start to give in, and you're lost. Most of these pilgrims never've had experience with the plains Injuns. They try to please 'em and buy their good-will by giving 'em something for nothing, and the Injuns don't understand.

Giving something for nothing isn't Injun way. It amounts to being afraid. Why, we pa.s.sed at least half a dozen outfits who'd been so good to the Injuns that they didn't have a critter left--every head driven off, some in broad daylight, and there the wagons were sitting. One wagon had said at first 'Pike's Peak or Bust,' and now it said, 'Busted, by Thunder!'"

"Must have been Kiowas or Cheyennes. The 'Rapahoes aren't ranging so far east, are they?" suggested the station agent.

"Oh, they're all ranging everywhere, now, following the buffalo and begging from the pilgrims," quoth the driver. "Kiowas, Cheyennes and 'Rapahoes--they're in cahoots. But I hear tell that the main band of the 'Rapahoes under old Little Raven are sticking 'round Cherry Creek, camped there on their winter grounds, along with the whites, instead of chasing the buffalo. It's easier."

The Pike's Peak Limited pulled out early, bent on making time and not be overtaken by those five thousand rivals who were still coming. In about an hour and a half the stages pa.s.sed at a gallop, while the drivers saluted with a flourish of whips. And the Limited proceeded to plod after.

Buffalo had become quite abundant. They were constantly in sight--large bunches and small; but Duke seemed to have had his fill of rampaging, and paid little attention to his kin-people. However, as Harry remarked, where there were buffalo, there likely were Indians.

"If any do come in on us," he said, "I'll grab the gun and you tend to Jenny. If there's one thing a mule hates worse than buffalo, it's Injun--and Jenny's powerful sensitive, poor thing."

"Maybe we ought to mount guard tonight," proposed Terry. "I'll sit up and then you sit up." Mounting guard for fear of Indian attack would be another fine story to tell to George Stanton.

"Not yet," decided Harry. "We'll stake Jenny in close, and she's awake all night anyway. At least, with her grunts and groans she sounds like it."

"I suppose Shep would make a racket, too."

"W-well," mused Harry, "I believe I'd rather trust to Jenny's ears and nose than to Shep's--there's more _of_ them."