The Scalp Hunters Part 54

In a short time the foremost, by starts and runs, had got close up to the narrow part of the canon. There was a boulder below this point, and the upper part of the Indian's head showed itself for an instant over the rock. At the same instant half a dozen rifles cracked; the head disappeared; and, the moment after, an object was seen down upon the pebbles, at the base of the boulder. It was the brown arm of the savage, lying palm upward. We knew that the leaden messengers had done their work.

The pursuers, though at the expense of one of their number, had now ascertained the fact of our presence, as well as our position; and the advanced party were seen retreating as they had approached.

The men who had fired reloaded their pieces, and, kneeling down as before, watched with sharp eyes and c.o.c.ked rifles.

It was a long time before we heard anything more of the enemy; but we knew that they were deliberating on some plan of attack.

There was but one way by which they could defeat us: by charging up the canon, and fighting us hand-to-hand. By an attack of this kind their main loss would be in the first volley. They might ride upon us before we could reload; and, far outnumbering us, would soon decide the day with their long lances. We knew all this; but we knew, too, that a first volley, when well delivered, invariably staggers an Indian charge, and we relied on such a hope for our safety.

We had arranged to fire by platoons, and thus have the advantage of a second discharge, should the Indians not retreat at the first.

For nearly an hour the hunters crouched under the drenching rain, looking only to keep dry the locks of their pieces. The water, in muddy rivulets, began to trickle through the shingle, and eddying around the rocks, covered the wide channel in which we now stood, ankle-deep. Both above and below us, the stream, gathered up by the narrowing of the channel, was running with considerable velocity.

The sun had set, at least it seemed so, in the dismal ravine where we were. We were growing impatient for the appearance of our enemy.

"Perhaps they have gone round," suggested one.

"No; thar a-waitin' till night. They'll try it then."

"Let 'em wait, then," muttered Rube, "ef thur green enuf. A half an hour more'll do; or this child don't understan' weather signs."

"Hist! hist!" cried several voices together. "See; they are coming!"

All eyes were bent down the pa.s.s. A crowd of dark objects appeared in the distance, filling up the bed of the stream. They were the Indians, and on horseback. We knew from this that they were about to make a dash. Their movements, too, confirmed it. They had formed two deep, and held their bows ready to deliver a flight of arrows as they galloped up.

"Look out, boyees!" cried Rube; "thur a-comin' now in airnest. Look to yur sights, and give 'em gos; do 'ee hear?"

As the trapper spoke, two hundred voices broke into a simultaneous yell.

It was the war-cry of the Navajoes!

As its vengeful notes rang upon the canon, they were answered by loud cheers from the hunters, mingled with the wild whoops of their Delaware and Shawano allies.

The Indians halted for a moment beyond the narrowing of the canon, until those who were rearmost should close up. Then, uttering another cry, they dashed forward into the gap.

So sudden was their charge that several of them had got fairly through before a shot was fired. Then came the reports of the guns; the crack-- crack--crack of rifles; the louder detonations of the Spanish pieces, mingled with the whizzing sound of Indian arrows. Shouts of encouragement and defiance were given on both sides; and groans were heard, as the grooved bullet or the poisoned barb tore up the yielding flesh.

Several of the Indians had fallen at the first volley. A number had ridden forward to the spot of our ambush, and fired their arrows in our faces. But our rifles had not all been emptied; and these daring savages were seen to drop from their saddles at the straggling and successive reports.

The main body wheeled behind the rocks, and were now forming for a second charge. This was the moment of danger. Our guns were idle, and we could not prevent them from pa.s.sing the gap, and getting through to the open country.

I saw Seguin draw his pistol, and rush forward, calling upon those who were similarly armed to follow his example. We ran after our leader down to the very jaws of the canon, and stood waiting the charge.

It was soon to come; for the enemy, exasperated by many circ.u.mstances, were determined on our destruction, cost what it might. Again we heard their fierce war-cry, and amidst its wild echoes the savages came galloping into the gap.

"Now's yur time," cried a voice; "fire! Hooray!"

The cracks of fifty pistols were almost simultaneous. The foremost horses reared up and fell back, kicking and sprawling in the gap. They fell, as it were, in a body, completely choking up the channel. Those who came on behind urged their animals forward. Some stumbled on the heap of fallen bodies. Their horses rose and fell again, trampling both dead and living among their feet. Some struggled over and fought us with their lances. We struck back with our clubbed guns, and closed upon them with our knives and tomahawks.

The stream rose and foamed against the rocks, pent back by the prostrate animals. We fought thigh-deep in the gathering flood. The thunder roared overhead, and the lightning flashed in our faces, as though the elements took part in the conflict!

The yelling continued wild and vengeful as ever. The hunters answered it with fierce shouts. Oaths flew from foaming lips, and men grappled in the embrace that ended only in death!

And now the water, gathered into a deep dam, lifted the bodies of the animals that had hitherto obstructed it, and swept them out of the gap.

The whole force of the enemy would be upon us. Good heavens! they are crowding up, and our guns are empty!

At this moment a new sound echoed in our ears. It was not the shouts of men, nor the detonation of guns, nor the pealing of the thunder. It was the hoa.r.s.e roaring: of the torrent!

A warning cry was heard behind us. A voice called out: "Run for your lives! To the bank! to the bank!"

I turned, and beheld my companions rushing for the slope, uttering words of terror and caution. At the same instant my eye became fixed upon an approaching object. Not twenty yards above where I stood, and just entering the canon, came a brown and foaming ma.s.s. It was water, bearing on its crested front huge logs of drift and the torn branches of trees. It seemed as though the sluice of some great dam had been suddenly carried away, and this was the first gush of the escaping flood!

As I looked it struck the portals of the canon with a concussion like thunder, and then, rearing back, piled up to a height of twenty feet.

The next moment it came surging through the gap.

I heard their terrified cry as the Indians wheeled their horses and fled. I ran for the bank, followed by my companions. I was impeded by the water, which already reached to my thighs; but with desperate energy I plunged and weltered through it, till I had gained a point of safety.

I had hardly climbed out when the torrent rolled past with a hissing, seething sound. I stood to observe it. From where I was I could see down the ravine for a long reach. The Indians were already in full gallop, and I saw the tails of their hindmost horses just disappearing round the rocks.

The bodies of the dead and wounded were still lying in the channel.

There were hunters as well as Indians. The wounded screamed as they saw the coming flood. Those who had been our comrades called to us for help; we could do nothing to save them. Their cries had hardly reached us when they were lifted upon the crest of the whirling current, like so many feathers, and carried off with the velocity of projectiles!

"Thar's three good fellows gone under! Wagh!"

"Who are they?" asked Seguin, and the men turned round with inquiring looks.

"Thar's one Delaware, and big Jim Harris, and--"

"Who is the third man that's missing? Can anyone tell?"

"I think, captain, it's Kirker."

"It is Kirker, by the 'tarnal! I seed him down. Wagh! They'll lift his har to a sartinty."

"Ay, they'll fish him out below. That's a sure case."

"They'll fish out a good haul o' thur own, I reckin. It'll be a tight race, anyhow. I've heern o' a horse runnin' agin a thunder shower; but them niggurs 'll make good time, if thur tails ain't wet afore they git t'other eend--they will."

As the trapper spoke, the floating and still struggling bodies of his comrades were carried to a bend in the canon, and whirled out of sight.

The channel was now filled with the foaming yellow flood that frothed against the rocks as it forged onward.

Our danger was over for the time. The canon had become impa.s.sable; and, after gazing for a while upon the torrent, most of us with feelings of awe, we turned away, and walked toward the spot where we had left our horses.

CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

THE BARRANCA.

We staked our horses upon the open plain, and, returning to the thicket, cut down wood and kindled fires. We felt secure. Our pursuers, even had they escaped back to the valley, could not now reach us, except by turning the mountains or waiting for the falling of the flood.