The Peril Finders is a Webnovel created by George Manville Fenn.
This lightnovel is currently completed.
“Even if they kill me,” he muttered, and he mentally saw himself falling beneath the enemy’s blows.
But in response to a desperate effort to recall his duty those thoughts grew dull and distant, and straining his eyes to gaze into the darkness he obeyed a sudden impulse to slip the ponies’ bridles into their mouths, fasten a strap or two, and then tighten the saddle-girths, the animals submitting patiently enough, and allowing themselves to be placed in readiness for a start.
“I can’t do anything more,” he said to himself. “Oh, how terribly dark!”
_Pst_! from close at hand, so close to him that the boy started as if he had been stung.
“Father!” he whispered.
“Good lad. Not a word. Are the ponies saddled and bridled?”
“Yes, father.”
“Right. Now, Griggs–Wilton; take two each, and lead on. Walk with them for the present, and as quietly as you can go. We’ll follow close behind.”
No further words were spoken, but there was the sound of hoofs pa.s.sing over the stony bottom of the gulch, and the next minute Chris and his father, each leading his pony, were walking together side by side, the animals stepping instinctively in the footprints of those in front, and, saving for the faint sound of tramping, the silence seemed to the boy perfectly awful.
At last Chris could keep back a question no longer.
“The firing, father–I heard two volleys. Were the savages coming on?”
“No, but we treated them as if they were, just to show them that we were waiting for an attack, and then came on to join you at once. Now, no more talking; I want to listen till they announce that they are there.”
“Will they?” whispered Chris.
“They’ll either attack with one of their savage yells, or else give one in their rage when they find that we are gone. That will be the signal for us to mount and ride for our lives. Indians are swift of foot, boy.”
It seemed an hour, during which every ear was on the strain, but probably it was not a fourth of that time, before the fierce yell of the savages was heard; but it only reached the fugitives as a faint whisper, followed by another.
Fortunately the retiring party had reached where the gulch had opened out, and quite a broad band of brilliant stars was spread overhead from rock-wall to rock-wall, giving sufficient light for the ponies to follow one another in Indian file at a good round trot, which was kept up hour after hour, with intervals of walking and the indulgence now in a little conversation regarding the distance ahead of the mule-train or the possibility of its being missed.
But Griggs was positive.
“No,” he said, “we can’t have over-run them.”
“But have they turned off somewhere? I don’t remember any side valley, but we may have pa.s.sed one.”
“No, we mayn’t, sir,” said Griggs coolly. “We don’t know it–at least, I don’t suppose you did, for I fancy I do–but if the mules had turned off anywhere our clever mustangs would have done the same. They’ve been following the mules’ trail ever since we started.”
“What! Impossible in this darkness.”
“Think so, sir? Well, suppose you wait and see.”
There was silence for awhile, before the doctor rode to the front again to where Chris was now beside Griggs.
“We have heard nothing of the enemy,” he said.
“No, sir. I’ve listened till it has given me a feeling like toothache.”
“Do you think they are on our trail?”
“Ah, there I can’t say anything, sir, only that they may be. But if they are, they’re coming on at a regular crawl; I am sure of that.”
“How can you be sure?” said the doctor wonderingly.
“Because they’ll be, as Indians mostly are when they can’t see their quarry, horribly suspicious of being led into an ambush.”
“They did not seem so when they followed you.”
“No; they could see me, and they forgot to be in doubt in the heat of the pursuit. But on a night like this, and after the way in which we have shot them down, they are bound to feel their way step by step if they follow at all. Most likely they’ll wait till morning, when they’ll pick up our trail.”
“And then?”
“Come on as fast as they can run, sir. They won’t ride.”
Griggs finished off with a loud chuckle. “Say, Chris,” he added, “won’t they be mad at not being able to get out their ponies!”
“I suppose so,” said Chris.
“But there’s a good side to everything. It’ll be grand for the poor beasts. They’re ridden nearly to death; now they’ll have a good rest with plenty of fine pasture.”
“But about to-morrow, Griggs?” said Chris.
“What about to-morrow?”
“The Indians may follow us and overtake us on foot.”
“Well, if they do, they do, my lad, and at the very worst they may capture some of our stores. But perhaps not. I don’t like being a brute to a dumb beast, but if I’m driven to it I may have to be a bit hard to some of those mules. They can go so fast that no Indian can catch them–if they like.”
“Yes?”
“Well, as a rule they don’t like.”
“That’s the worst of it,” said Chris.
“Yes, but this time they’ve got to like; and I know how to make them.”
Daybreak at last, and with that dawn all doubts about the mule-convoy were at an end, for the first streaks of dawn showed them about a mile ahead, trudging steadily along, while no broadening of the day, not even the rising of the sun, revealed that for which a most anxious lookout was kept, namely, so many dark dots to indicate that the Indians were on their trail.
“I say they won’t come now,” said Griggs decisively. “We’ll halt, sir, at the first water, and have a good rest and feed.”
“Will it be safe?” said the doctor.
“We must chance that, sir, for the sake of making horse, mule, man and boy fit for what more he has to do.”
“Well, perhaps so.”
“It won’t be losing time, and the mules and horses have done a good spell of work.”