The Young Ranchers; Or, Fighting the Sioux Part 15

"No," he added the next moment, striking him into a gallop again, "if they were left to themselves they would try to make their way to the ranch, but they have been under too much guidance, and have been forced to do too many disagreeable things, for them to attempt that. I am sure we are nearing Fort Meade."

"I trust so," was the response of the wife; which remark did anything but add to the hopefulness of her husband.

The animals now began to show signs of fatigue. The snow balled under their hoofs, causing a peculiar jolting to the riders, when it became so big that the weight broke it or made their feet slip off, when new gatherings commenced immediately to form.

After being forced to a canter the horses would drop of their own accord to a walk, and soon they were left to continue at their own gait.

"How far, Molly, do you think we have come?" asked the rancher.

"It must be fifteen miles, and possibly more; if it were in a direct line, adding what we made before crossing the last stream, it would be safe to wait until morning."

Again the wife gave expression to the thought that was in her husband's mind. He had been asking himself for the last half hour whether it would not be wise to come to a halt for daylight. The rest thus secured to the animals would enable them to do much better, when the right course could be determined with absolute certainty, and a few hours' brisk riding ought to take them beyond all fear of their hara.s.sing enemies.

There remained the haunting fear of their being on the wrong course. If daylight found them little nearer the fort than when at the ranch, their situation would be most critical. But all speculation on that important matter must remain such until the truth could be learned.

One reason why the rancher did not propose a halt before it was hinted at by his wife, was that no suitable place presented itself. It would not do to camp in the open plain, where there was no shelter for them or their animals; they must keep on until the ground changed.

That change came sooner than they antic.i.p.ated. The ponies were plodding forward with their loads, when, before either of the riders suspected it, they were on the edge of another growth of timber, which promised the very thing they sought.

"Here we are!" said Mr. Starr, "and I think we can say that the journey will be suspended until daylight."

"If there is another stream, George, I shall feel safer if we place ourselves on the other side before we halt for the rest of the night."

"I don't view another fording with much pleasure, but we can soon find out how it is."

The character of this timber differed from that which they had already pa.s.sed, in that it abounded with so many bowlders and rocks that, after penetrating it a short way, it became too dangerous for the ponies to persevere. They were liable at any moment to break a limb.

"Remain here a few minutes while I investigate," said the rancher, pa.s.sing the sleeping Dot to his wife.

He penetrated more than a hundred yards, without coming upon any water.

He did not go farther, for he was satisfied there was none near them.

The ground not only grew more rocky and precipitous as he advanced, but steadily rose, so as to show that he was at the base of a ridge over which it was a difficult matter to make their way. It would have been folly to try it in the darkness, and on his return he sought some spot favorable for going into camp.

He was more successful than he expected. A ma.s.s of rocks was found, whose tops projected sufficiently to afford a fair shelter. The snow, slanting from the other direction, left a comparatively large surface bare. Here the ponies were drawn to one side and their trappings removed. There were not enough spare blankets to cover them as the fugitives wished to do, but they were too tough to suffer much.

Then the blankets were distributed, and so placed that when the husband and wife huddled together against the base of the rocks, they, as well as Dot, were quite comfortable. The rancher might have gathered wood and started a fire, but it was not needed, and they feared the consequences of such a proceeding. They were so worn out with the trials and toil of the night, that they soon sank into a deep slumber which lasted till morning. Then, upon awaking, the first act of the rancher was to ascertain his bearings, so far as it was possible to do so.

The result was the disheartening conviction that they were no nearer Fort Meade than when they forded the last stream early on the preceding night.

CHAPTER XIX.

A STARTLING SURPRISE.

We must not forget that young Warren Starr and Tim Brophy have an important part to play in the incidents we have set out to relate.

We left them in the wooded rocky section, where they had spent the night together in the rude shelter erected a year before when on their hunting excursions. They were awakened by the frenzied cry of the young Irishman's horse, and appeared on the scene just in time to save the pony from a grizzly bear, who made things exceedingly lively for the young gentlemen themselves.

But relieved of their peril, they sat down like sensible persons to make their morning meal from the lunch brought thither by Tim. They ate heartily, never pausing until the last particle of food was gone. Then they rose like giants refreshed with new wine.

"Now," said Warren, "we will mount the ponies, and instead of making for the fort will try to find the folks."

"I'm wid ye there, as I remarked previously," was the response of the brave young rancher, who was ever ready to risk his life for those whom he loved.

"It will be an almost hopeless hunt, for father could give me only a general idea of the course he meant to take, and we are likely to go miles astray."

"We shall have to depind on Providence to hilp us, though it may be the folks are in no naad of our a.s.sistance."

"I pray that such may be the case," was the fervent response of Warren, accompanied by a sigh of misgiving. "I think we shall be able to take care of ourselves, but father is in a bad fix with mother and Dot on his hands. I hope Plummer has joined them."

"He niver will do the same," remarked Tim gravely.

"Why do you say that?"

"He has been killed by the spalpeens, for if he hadn't, he would have showed himsilf before we lift the ranch."

"It looks that way, but you cannot be certain."

"I wish I couldn't, but he must have larned of thim being so near the house as soon as mesilf, or very nearly so, and he would have been back before me. That he didn't come is proof to my mind that he niver will--ye may depind on the same."

This brief conversation took place while the youths were saddling and mounting their horses. They made certain that everything was secure, and then, carefully guiding their animals among bowlders to the open prairie, paused a moment to decide upon the best course to take.

To the northwest stretched the white plain in gentle undulations, and in the clear sunlight, miles away in the horizon, rose the dark line of a wooded ridge, similar to the others described, and which are so common in that section of the country. They agreed that the best course was to head toward it, for it seemed to them that the rancher had probably crossed the same at some point, or if he had not already done so, would ride in that direction. Possibly, too, the father, despite the wishes he had expressed, would suspect such a movement on the part of his son. If so, the probability of their meeting was increased.

The air was clear, sharp, and bracing, with the sun shining from an unclouded sky. It was a time to stir the blood, and had not the young ranchers been oppressed by anxiety for their friends, they would have bounded across the plain in the highest possible spirits. The ponies, having no such fear, struck into a swinging gallop of their own accord, which continued without interruption until more than half the intervening distance was pa.s.sed. All this time the youths were carefully scanning the wooded ridge, as it rose more distinctly to view; for they could not forget that they were more likely to meet hostiles than friends in that section, and approaching it across an open plain, must continue conspicuous objects to whatever Sioux were there.

"Tim," said Warren, as they rode easily beside each other, "unless I am much mistaken, a fire is burning on the ridge."

"Where?"

"Almost directly ahead, but a little to the left; tell me whether you can make it out."

The Irishman shaded his eyes with one hand, for the glare of the sun on the snow was almost blinding, and after a moment's scrutiny, said:

"Ye are right; there is a fire up there; not much smoke does the same give out, but it is climbing up the clear sky as straight as a mon's finger."

"I take it that it means Indians; it seems to me they are all around us."

"I agraas wid ye, but s'pose it is a fire that yer fayther has started himsilf."

Warren shook his head.

"He would not do so imprudent a thing as that."

"But he moight have in his eye that we'd be looking for something of the same."