The Yellow Chief Part 16

Of all those awaiting the approach of the Indians, no one suffered so much from seeing them halt as the young Irishman. For the first time in five years he had a view of that face, almost every night appearing to him in his dreams. She was near enough for him to trace the lineaments of those features, indelibly impressed upon his memory. If he saw change in them, it was only that they appeared more beautiful than ever.

The wan hue of sadness, and that pallor of complexion, natural to a daughter of the South, had been replaced by a red suffusion upon her cheeks, caused by the chase, the capture, and the terrible excitement of the situation; and she seemed to glow with beauty. And there was something that at the moment rendered her still more beautiful in the eyes of O'Neil. During the interval of hasty action since entering the Indian encampment, he had found time to place himself in communication with some of the white captives, her companions on the journey. From them he had learnt enough to know, that Clara Blackadder was yet unwedded; something, too, of her mood of habitual melancholy, as if there was a void in her heart, none of them understood!

As he knelt behind the cedar-trees, expectant of her return, he had indulged in sweet conjectures as to its cause; and when he saw her upon the ridge, riding down as it were into his arms, a thrill of delightful antic.i.p.ation pa.s.sed over his spirit. He could scarce restrain himself from rushing forth to receive her; and it was with difficulty the old trapper could keep him silent in his concealment.

Still more difficult as the Indians halted on the hill.

"They may ride off again," said he, in an agonised whisper, to his more patient comrade. "Supposing they suspect our presence? They may gallop off, and take her along with them? We have no horses to follow. We should never overtake them afoot."

"You kedn't ef we charged on 'em now. They're ayont the carry o' our guns. Ef they git a glimps o' one o' us, they'll be sartin to stampede.

Don't show the tip o' yur nose, Ned; for yur life, don't!"

The counsel might not have been heeded. O'Neil was in an agony of impatient apprehension. It seemed so easy to rush up to the summit of the ridge, and rescue her he so dearly loved. He felt as if he could have outrun the swiftest horse, and alone vanquished the full band of savages that surrounded her!

Yielding to the impetuosity of his long-constrained pa.s.sion, he might have made the suicidal attempt, had he not been stayed by the next movement of the Indians, who, to the surprise of all, both prisoners and trappers, were seen to turn their backs upon the encampment, leaving the young girl in the charge of a single savage! Even then Orton found it difficult to restrain O'Neil from leaping out from his ambush and rushing toward his beloved. It seemed now so easy to rescue her!

The old trapper was again compelled to use force, throwing his arms around and holding him in his place.

"A minnit more, ye fool!" was the hurried though not very complimentary speech hissed into O'Neil's ear. "Hev patience one minnit, and she'll coflumix right into yur arms, like a barked squirrel from the branch o'

a tree. Hish!"

The last exclamation was simultaneous with a movement on the part of the Indian who had been left in charge of the captive. In obedience to the hurried order of his chief, the savage had taken the bridle of her horse, and commenced leading the animal down the slope in the direction of the ravine, his eyes straying over the ground of the encampment.

Before entering the gap, he looked ahead! The silence there seemed somewhat to astonish him. It was strange there was no movement. He could see several of his comrades lying upon the gra.s.s, and others standing over the captives, these still in their planes just as he remembered them, when starting forth on the pursuit.

The Indians upon the ground seemed natural enough. They were those who had drunk too freely of the white man's fire-water. But the guards standing erect--leaning upon their long lances--it was odd they should be so silent, so motionless! He knew his comrades to be trained to a certain stoicism; but, considering the exciting scenes that had occurred, this was beyond expectation.

For all, the thing caused him no suspicion. How could he have a thought of what had transpired in his absence?

He advanced without further pause, leading the captive's horse, till he had pa.s.sed through the gap of the gorge. Whether he then saw enough to tell him of the trap into which he had fallen can never be known. If he did, he had no time either to reflect upon or escape from it. A man, gliding silently out from the bushes, sprang like a panther upon the croup of his horse; and before he could turn to see who thus a.s.sailed him, a bowie-knife had gone deep into his dorsal ribs, causing him to drop dead to the ground without uttering a groan!

It was the bowie-knife of old 'Lije Orton that had inflicted the fatal stab.

At the same instant another man, rushing out from the same cover, clasped the captive girl in his arms, and tenderly lifted her from the saddle.

She was surprised, but not terrified. There could be no more terror there. If there had, it would have pa.s.sed in a moment, when in her deliverer she recognised one who, for five long years, had been alike the torture and solace of her thoughts.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

THE SCENE RE-ARRANGED.

Edward O'Neil held Clara Blackadder in his arms. He now knew she loved and had been true to him, though not from any words that had pa.s.sed between them.

There was scarce time for them to do more than p.r.o.nounce one another's names; but the glance exchanged was eloquent to the hearts of both.

Each saw in the other's eyes that the old fondness was still there, strengthened, if aught changed, by the trials through which they had pa.s.sed.

Almost on the instant of their coming together they were again parted by the trappers; who, with 'Lije Orton and Black Harris directing them, had hastily commenced rearranging the ambuscade. Every moment they might expect the return of the Indians. A scout, who had hurried up to the crest of the ridge, telegraphed back why the savages had ridden off.

With the quick perception common to men of their calling, they at once understood all. They remembered that in their haste they had but slightly secured their horses. Something, some sort of wild beast, perhaps a grizzly bear, had got among them, causing the stampede. It was an occurrence not new to them.

It only increased their thirst for vengeance against the detested Cheyennes, and made them more than ever determined on a wholesale destruction of the predatory band.

"Let's rub them out, every redskin of them!" was the counsel pa.s.sed around.

"We must get back our horses anyhow!"

"We'll do thet," said Orton, "an' thar horses, too, to redemnify us for the trouble. But, boyees, 't won't do to go foolich about it. Though thar's no fear o' these hyur skunks tellin' tales, we must take percaushuns for all that. This n.i.g.g.e.r wants proppin' up like the rest o' 'em. When that air done, we'll be riddy to gie 'em thar recepshun."

The others knew what 'Lije meant, and hastened to reset the stage for the next scene of the sanguinary drama.

While the scout on the crest of the ridge kept them warned as to the movements of the Indians, the others were busy placing the tableau that was to greet them on their return. The young lady was directed to a.s.sume a half-rec.u.mbent att.i.tude on the gra.s.s--her horse still saddled standing near. Close by, propped up, was the dead body of the savage to whose keeping she had been entrusted; not seeming dead, but life-like by the side of his own horse, as if still keeping guard over the captive.

All was arranged in less than ten minutes of time. These rude mountain men are ready at such _ruses_. No wonder their wits should be quick and keen; their lives often depend upon the successful execution of such schemes.

They found time to make many changes in the arrangement previously made.

In their haste the stage had not been set to their satisfaction. The other dead sentinels were placed in att.i.tudes more life-like and natural, and all traces of the brief struggle were carefully blotted out or removed. The captives, both white and black, were cautioned to keep their places, and instructed how to act, in case of any unforeseen accident causing a change in the carrying out of the programme.

When everything was fixed to their satisfaction, the trappers returned to their ambush; as before, distributing themselves into two parties-- one for each side of the gorge. A vidette was still kept upon the top of the ridge, though not the man first deputed for the performance of this duty. There were now two of them--Black Harris and 'Lije Orton.

It was an interval of strange reflection with the young Irishman, O'Neil. Before his eyes--almost within reach of his arms--upon the gra.s.sy sward, he saw lying that fair form which for long absent years had remained vividly outlined in his memory. How he longed to go nearer and embrace her! And all the more, that he could perceive her glance turned toward the spot where he lay concealed, as if endeavouring to penetrate the leafy screen that separated them. How he longed for the final event that would terminate this red tragedy, and bring them together again, in life never more to be parted! It was a relief, as well as joy to him, when his old comrade, Orton, close followed by Black Harris, was seen hastily descending the slope, their gestures showing that the horse-hunt was over, and the savages were riding back toward the encampment.

"Now, boyees!" said 'Lije, gliding to both sides of the gorge, and addressing the trappers in a cautious undertone, "ef ye'll jest keep yerselves purfectly cool for about ten minutes longer, an' wait till ye git the word from Black Harry or myself, ye'll have a chance o' wipin'

out any scores ye may hev run up 'twixt yur-selves an' Yellow Chief.

Don't neer a one o' ye touch trigger till the last of the cussed varmints hev got clar past the mouth o' this hyur gully. An' then wait till ye hear the signal from me. It'll be the crack o' my rifle. Arter thet, the Injuns aint like to hev any chief; an' ye kin go in, an' gie 'em eturnal darnation."

In ten seconds after he had ceased speaking not a trapper was to be seen near the Indian encampment; only the captives with their sentinels standing over them, surrounded by a stillness as of death. It was like the ominous calm that comes between two gusts of a storm, all the more awful from the contrasting silence.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

THE STAMPEDERS CAPTURED.

In starting in chase of the straying _cavallada_, the Cheyennes did not go on at full speed. The spectacle of over twenty horses saddled and bridled, wandering about without riders on their backs, or the sign of an owner following after them, was one so novel, that, while causing astonishment to the savages, it also aroused their instincts of caution.

It looked like what the Indians had first taken it for--a stampede.

And still it might be the ruse of an enemy, with the design of drawing them into an ambuscade. Partly for this reason, and partly that the ownerless animals might not be scared into a second stampede, and so become difficult of capture, the Cheyennes rode toward them slowly and deliberately.

As they drew near, however, and still no white men appeared in sight, they quickened their pace, and at length broke into a gallop--charging at full speed upon the sauntering drove. This had become necessary, as the white men's horses had "smelt Indian," and with crests erect, and snorting nostrils, showed signs of making off.

For a period of ten minutes there was a confused movement upon the plain--a sort of irregular tournament, in which horses ridden by dusky riders, and others without any, were mingled together and galloping towards every point of the compa.s.s; long slender ropes, like snakes, suddenly uncoiled, were seen circling through the air; wild cries were heard, sent forth from a score of savage throats--the clamour increased by the shrill neighing of horses and the shriller hinneying of the mules--while the firm prairie turf echoed the tread of over a hundred hoofs.

And soon this tableau underwent a change. The dark moving ma.s.s became scattered over a wider surface, and here and there could be seen, at intervals apart, the oft-described spectacle of a horseman using the lazo: two horses at opposite ends of a long rope stretched taut between them, tails toward each other, one of them standing with feet firmly planted, the lazo fast to a stapled ring in the tree of his saddle; the other prostrate upon the ground, with the rope wound around his neck, no longer struggling to free himself, but convulsively to get breath.

And soon again the tableau became changed. The captured steeds were whipped back upon their feet, and their captors once more got into a clump together, each leading a spare horse, that followed without further resistance.

Some had none, while others, more fortunate or skilful, had succeeded in making a double take during the quick scramble.

After the more serious work of the morning, it was a light and pleasant interlude for the young Cheyennee, and, as they returned toward their camp, they were full of joyous glee.