A Waif of the Mountains

“But you are not accustomed to start in the night time.”

“And I never knowed it was your custom to leave New Constantinople in the middle of the night; leastways I never knowed you to do it afore.”

“We have important business,” added the captain brusquely, uncertain as yet whether he ought to be displeased or angered by the intrusion of Adams.

“So have I.”

“What is it?”

“Your good.”

“I don’t understand you; explain yourself.”

“There ain’t one of you three that knows the way through the mountains, and if you undertook it alone, it would take you three months to reach Sacramento.”

This was a new and striking view of the situation, but the parson said:

“Each of us has been over it before.”

“Sartinly, but one trip nor half a dozen ain’t enough. You lost your way the first hour in Dead Man’s Gulch; if you hadn’t done so, it would have took me a blamed sight longer to find you; there are half a dozen other places in the mountains ten times worse than the one where you flew the track. Howsumever, if you don’t want me, I’ll go back.”

And Vose Adams, as if his dignity had received a mortal hurt, began turning his mule around.

“Hold on,” interposed Captain Dawson; “you have put things in their true light; we are very glad to have you with us.”

“That makes it all right,” was the cheery response of the good natured Vose; “I never like to push myself where I ain’t wanted, but as you seem glad to see me, after having the thing explained, we won’t say nothing more about it. Howsumever, I may add that I obsarved you started in such a hurry that I thought it warn’t likely you fetched any vittles with you, so I made up a lunch and brought it with me, being as you may not always have time to spare to shoot game.”

The chilliness of Vose Adams’ greeting changed to the warmest welcome. He had shown more thoughtfulness than any of them, and his knowledge of the perilous route through the mountains was beyond value. Indeed, it looked as if it was to prove the deciding factor in the problem.

“Do you know our business, Vose?” asked the captain.

“I knowed it the minute I seen you sneaking off like shadows toward the trail. I hurried to my cabin, got a lot of cold meat and bread together and then hunted up Hercules, my boss mule. He isn’t very handsome, but he has a fine voice and has been through these mountains so many times that he knows the right road as well as me. I knowed you would travel fast and didn’t expect to overhaul you afore morning, but you went past the right turn and that give me a chance to catch up sooner.”

“But how was it you suspected our errand?” persisted the captain.

“How could I help it? What else could it be? I seen the miss and the leftenant start for Sacramento, and being as you took the same course it was plain that you was going there too, if you didn’t overtake ’em first.”

“You saw them start!” thundered the father of Nellie Dawson; “why didn’t you hurry off to me with the news?”

“Why should I hurry off to you with the news?” coolly asked Vose Adams; “it wasn’t the first time I had seen the two ride in that direction; sometimes she was with you, or with the parson or Ruggles, and once or twice with me. Would you have thought there was anything wrong if you had seen them?”

“No, I suppose not,” replied the captain, seeing the injustice of his words; “but I have been so wrought up by what has occurred that I can hardly think clearly. I ask your pardon for my hasty words.”

“You needn’t do that, for I see how bad you feel and I’m sorry for you.”

“When was it they left?”

“Early this afternoon.”

“There was no one with them of course?”

“Nobody except that big dog they call Timon; he was frolicking ’round the horses, as if he enjoyed it as much as them.”

Every atom of news was painful, and yet the afflicted father could not restrain himself from asking questions of no importance.

“About what hour do you think it was when they left?”

“It must have been near two o’clock when the leftenant fetched up his horse and the pony belonging to the young lady. She must have been expectin’ him, for she come right out of the house, without keeping him waitin’ a minute. He helped her into the saddle, while they talked and laughed as happy as could be.”

This was wormwood and gall to the parent, but he did not spare himself.

“Did you overhear anything said by them?”

“I wouldn’t have considered it proper to listen, even if they hadn’t been so far off I couldn’t catch a word that passed atween ’em.”

“Was there anything in their actions to show they intended to take a longer ride than usual?”

“I don’t see how there could be,” replied the puzzled Adams, while Parson Brush, understanding what the distraught captain meant, explained:

“Was there anything in their appearance which suggested that they meant to take anything more than an ordinary gallop?”

“I didn’t think of it at the time, but I can see now there was. Each of them had what seemed to be extra clothing and perhaps they had food, though I couldn’t make sure of that. You know there has been something in the sky that looked like a coming storm, and I thought it was on that account that the clothing was took along. Then, as the leftenant had knocked off work, it might be he was not feeling very well.”

“The scoundrel made that very excuse for leaving me,” bitterly commented Captain Dawson, “but he wouldn’t have taken the clothing as part of the same design for there was no need of anything of the kind. They laid their plans carefully and everything joined to make it as easy as possible.”

“Your thoughts were precisely what ours would have been,” said the parson, drawn toward the messenger unjustly accused by the captain in the tumult of his grief;“ if we had seen the two start, we should have believed it was for one of the usual gallops which the young lady is so fond of taking; but, Vose, if we would have certainly gone astray in the mountains, without your guidance, how will it be with them, when she has never been over the trail and he has ridden over it but once?“

“They are sure to have a tough time of it which will make it all the harder for us.”

“How is that?”

“Some good luck may lead them right; more than likely, howsumever, they’ll get all wrong; therefore, if we stick to the path we may pass ’em a half dozen times. You see it’s the blamed onsartinty of the whole bus’ness.”

“I would not question your wisdom on such matters, Vose, but when I remember that each of them is riding a horse, and that the two must leave traces behind them, I cannot apprehend that we shall go very far astray in our pursuit. The most likely trouble as it seems to me is that they will travel so fast that it will be almost impossible to overtake them.”

“If they can manage to keep to the trail, it is going to be hard work to come up with them. You haven’t forgot that when I’m pushing through the mountains I sometimes have to hunt a new trail altogether.”

“That is due to the trouble with Indians?”

“Precisely; sometimes it’s a long, roundabout course that I have to take, which may keep me off the main course for a couple of days, or it may be for only a part of the day, but Injins is something that you must count on every time.”

“And they are as likely to meet them as we?”

“More so, ’cause they’re just ahead of you. Oh, it was the biggest piece of tomfoolery ever heard of for them to start on such a journey, but what are you to expect of two young persons dead in love with each other?”

This was not the kind of talk that was pleasing to the father, and he became morosely silent. It was equally repugnant to Ruggles and the parson to hear Nellie Dawson referred to as being in love with the execrated officer. Ruggles was grim and mute, and the parson deftly drew the conversation in another direction.

“I would like to ask you, Vose, how it was that Lieutenant Russell did not take the other horses with him, so as to make it impossible for anything in the nature of pursuit?”

“There might be two reasons; he may have thought it would be mean to hit you below the belt like that; he was too honorable–”

“It warn’t anything like that,” fiercely interrupted Ruggles.

“Then it must have been that if he had took all the animals with him, even though they was a considerable way down the gulch, the thing would have been noticed by others, who would have wanted to know what it meant.”

“No doubt you have struck the right reason. Had the start been in the night time, he would have made sure that not even the mules were left for us. But, Vose,” added the parson gravely, “we would be much better pleased if when you referred to the lieutenant, you said nothing about ‘honor.’”

“Oh, I am as much down on him as any of you,” airily responded Vose; “and, if I git the chance to draw bead on him, I’ll do it quicker’n lightning. Fact is, the hope of having that same heavenly privilege was as strong a rope in pulling me up the trail after you as was the wish to keep you folks from gettin’ lost. But, pards, Hercules is rested and I guess likely your animals are the same, so let’s be moving.”

Although Captain Dawson had been silent during the last few minutes, he did not allow a word to escape him. He knew Vose Adams was talkative at times, due perhaps to his enjoyment of company, after being forced to spend weeks without exchanging a word with any one of his kind, but there was no overestimating his value, because of his knowledge of the long, dangerous route through the mountains. When, therefore, the party were about to move on, the captain said:

“Vose, from this time forward you are the guide; the place for you is at the head; you will oblige me by taking the lead.”

Vose accepted the post of honor, which was also the one of peril, for it is the man in his position whose life hangs in the balance when Indians are concerned. But there was no hesitancy on his part, though he was well aware of the additional risks he incurred.

“There’s one good thing I can tell you,” he said, just before they started.

They looked inquiringly at him and he explained:

“The hardest part of the climbing is over,–that is for the time,” he hastened to add, seeing that he was not understood; “you’ll have plenty more of it before we see Sacramento, but I mean that we have struck the highest part of the trail, and it will be a good while before there’s any more climbing to do.”

“That is good news,” said Ruggles heartily, “for it has been mighty tough on the animals; I ’spose too, the trail is smoother.”

Adams laughed.

“I am sorry to say it’s rougher.”

Ruggles muttered impatiently, but the four took up the task, Adams in the lead, with the rest stringing after him in Indian file. The declaration of Vose was verified sooner than was expected. While the mule was so sure-footed that he seemed to meet with no difficulty, it was excessively trying to the horses, who stumbled and recovered themselves so often that Captain Dawson began to fear one or more of them would go lame. Still in his anxiety to get forward, he repressed his fears, hoping that there would be some improvement and cheering himself with the belief that since all had gone well for so long, it would continue on the same line.

Once, however, his horse made such an abrupt stumble that the captain narrowly saved himself from being unseated. On the impulse of the moment he called to Adams in advance:

“Vose, I am afraid this won’t do!”

The leader did not look around and acted as if he had not heard him.

“I say, Vose, isn’t it better that we should wait till our horses can see the way?”

Since the leader took no notice of this demand, the captain concluded his fears were groundless and said no more.

“If he thinks it safe for us to keep on, I shall not oppose.”

But Captain Dawson might have opposed, had he known the truth, for, strange as it may seem, Vose Adams did not hear the words addressed to him, because he was asleep on the back of his mule Hercules, as he had been many a time while riding over the lonely trail. In truth, there was some foundation for his declaration that he could sleep more soundly on the back of his animal than while wrapped up in his blanket in some fissure among the rocks. Fortunately for him, however, these naps were of short duration, and, while indulging in them, he relied upon his animal, which had acquired a wonderful quickness in detecting danger. The slightest lagging in his gait, a halt, a turning to one side or a whinny was sufficient to bring back on the instant the wandering senses of the rider. In the present instance his slumber was not interrupted until Hercules, seeing exactly where he was, dropped his walk to a lagging gait.

On the very second Vose Adams opened his eyes. So naturally that no one suspected anything, he checked his animal and looked around.

“Pards, we’ve reached a ticklish spot, and it’s for you to say whether we shall wait for daylight afore trying it.”

“What is its nature?” asked the captain, as he and the two behind him also reined up their animals.

“The trail winds through these peaks in front, and instead of being like that we’ve been riding over all along, keeps close to the side of the mountain. On the right is the solid rock, and on the left it slopes down for I don’t know how many hundred feet, afore it strikes bottom. Once started down that slide, you’ll never stop till you hit the rocks below like that mass of stone that tumbled over in front of you.”

“How wide is the path?” asked the parson.

“There’s more than a mile where it isn’t wide enough for two of us to ride abreast, and there are plenty of places where a horse has got to step mighty careful to save himself. Hercules knows how to do it, for he larned long ago, but I have my doubts about your hosses.”

“It might have been better after all if we had brought the mules,” said the captain.

“Not a bit of it, for Hercules is the only one that knows how to git over such places.”

“How do the others manage it?”

“They’ve never tried it in the night time; that’s what I’m talking ’bout.”

Adams’s description enabled the others to recall the place. It was all that had been pictured and they might well pause before assuming the fearful risk. One reason for wishing to press forward was the knowledge that at the termination of the dangerous stretch, the trail was so smooth and even that for a long distance it would be easy to keep their animals at a gallop, while still further the peril appeared again.

Captain Dawson once more struck a match and looked at his watch.

“Half-past three; in two hours it will begin to grow light; if no accident happens we shall be at the end of the ugly piece of ground by that time, where the traveling is good. It is a pity to lose the opportunity, but I will leave it to you, parson and Ruggles; what do you say?”

“Our horses have been pushed pretty hard, but they are in good condition. I hate to remain idle.”

“Then you favor going ahead?”

“I do.”

“And you, Ruggles?”

“I feel the same way.”

“That settles it; lead on, Vose.”

“I’m just as well suited, but keep your wits about you,” was the warning of the leader, whose mule instantly responded, stretching his neck forward and downward and occasionally snuffing the ground, as if he depended on his sense of smell more than that of hearing.

The task was a nerve-wrenching one, and more than once each of the three regretted their haste in not waiting for daylight; but, having started, there was no turning back. To attempt to wheel about, in order to retrace their steps, was more perilous than to push on, while to stand still was hardly less dangerous.

The moonlight gave such slight help that the four depended almost wholly upon the instinct of their animals. Hercules never faltered, but advanced with the slow, plodding, undeviating certainty of those of his kind who thread their way through the treacherous passes of the Alps. Once his hind hoof struck a stone which went bounding down the precipice on his left, until at the end of what seemed several minutes, it lay still at the bottom. Neither animal nor rider showed the least fear, for in truth both were accustomed to little slips like that.

“I’m blessed if this isn’t the most ticklish business that I ever attempted,” muttered Captain Dawson; “I never had anything like it in the army; it reminds me of scouting between the lines, when you expect every second a bullet from a sharpshooter–”

At that instant his horse stepped on a round, loose stone which turned so quickly that before he could recover himself the hoof followed the stone over the edge of the precipice. The horse snorted and struggled desperately, and the brave rider felt an electric shock thrill through him from head to foot, for there was one moment when he believed nothing could save them from the most frightful of deaths.

The left hind leg had gone over the rocky shelf, which at that point was very narrow, and the hoof was furiously beating vacancy in the despairing effort to find something upon which to rest itself. His body sagged downward and the rider held his breath.

“Steady, my boy!” he called, and with rare presence of mind allowed the rein to lie free so as not to disconcert the steed.

The tremendous struggle of the intelligent animal prevailed and with a snort he recovered his balance and all four feet stood upon firm support.

“That was a close call,” observed the parson, whose heart was in his mouth, while the brief fight for life was going on.

“It was so close that it couldn’t have been any closer,” coolly commented the captain, fully himself again.

CHAPTER XIX

A COLLISION

At this moment, the cheery voice of Adams called:

“There’s only about a hundred yards more of this, but we’ve now struck the worst part of the whole trail.”

“If it is any worse than what we have just passed, it won’t do to try it,” replied Captain Dawson, with the memory of his recent thrilling experience still vivid with him.

“We can do it, but we must foller a different plan.”

“What is that?”

“We must lead our animals. There are plenty of places where you can get off your horses with more comfort, but we can’t stand here doing nothing. Get to the ground the best way you know how.”

It was clear that the advice of the guide would have to be followed, and all four set about the task with the cool daring shown from the first. Since each man was to lead his animal, it was necessary to dismount in front, instead of slipping over the tail, as would have been easier. The beasts showed striking sagacity in this delicate task. The trail was so narrow that to dismount to the left, on the side of the dizzying precipice, made it impossible for a man to keep his poise, while to descend on the right, directly beside the body of the animal was almost certain to crowd him over into the gorge. Each, therefore, lowered himself with infinite care over the right shoulder of his steed, so well forward, that the horse by turning his head to the left afforded just enough room for the trick to be done. Every one dismounted in safety, each drawing a breath of relief when the exquisitely delicate task was accomplished.

Looking around in the gloom, Vose Adams saw that his friends stood on the ground.

“Are you all ready?” he asked.

“Yes,” replied Brush from the rear.

“Hold the bridle so gentle that you can let go if your animal slips off: if he has to go over the precipice, there’s no need of your follering him.”

Each man took his Winchester in hand, and loosely grasping the bridle rein, began stealing forward, the captain’s loss compelling him to make his single arm answer for both purposes. The advance was necessarily slow, for it was made with the utmost care. The path could not have been more dangerous than for the brief stretch between them and the broad, safe support beyond.

Several times the trail so narrowed that each trembled through fear of not being able to keep his balance, while it seemed absolutely impossible for a horse to do so; but one of the strange facts connected with that intelligent animal is that, despite his greater bulk, he is generally able to follow wherever his master leads. So it was that when a miner carefully turned his head, he saw his steed following slowly but unfalteringly in his footsteps.

It was soon perceived that this perilous stretch did not take a straight course, but assumed the form of an immense, partial circle. When half way around, the plodders came in sight of a huge rent in the distant mountain wall, through which the sky showed nearly from the zenith to the horizon. In this immense V-shaped space shone the moon nearly at its full, and without a rift or fleck of cloud in front of its face.

A flood of light streamed through and between the encompassing peaks, tinging the men and animals with its fleecy veil, as if some of the snow from the crests had been sprinkled over them. On their left, the craggy wall sloped almost vertically downward, the projecting masses of rock displaying the same, fairy-like covering, ending in a vast, yawning pit of night and blackness, into whose awful depth the human eye could not penetrate.

On the right, the mass of stone, rock and boulder, rugged, broken and tumbled together, as if flung about by giants in sport, towered beyond the vision’s reach, the caverns, abysses and hollows made the blacker and more impenetrable by the moonlight glinting against the protruding masses.

It was as if a party of Titans had run their chisels along the flinty face of the mountain from the rear, gouging out the stone, with less and less persistency, until they reached the spot where the men and animals were creeping forward, when the dulled tools scarcely made an impression sufficient to support the hesitating feet.

Captain Dawson was but a few paces to the rear of Vose Adams’s mule, whose surety of step he admired and tried to imitate.

“Training seems able to accomplish anything,” reflected the captain; “I remember how Lieutenant Russell and I stopped on the further edge of this infernal place when we reached it one forenoon and spent several hours trying to find a safer path. It kept us in a tremor until we were across. Had any one told me that on the next journey I should try it in the night, I would have believed him crazy, but,” he grimly added, “I would have thought the same, if I had been told that a necessity like this would compel us to do so.”

The bridle rein was looped over his elbow, which extended behind him, the same hand grasping his rifle, so that he advanced partly sideways over the treacherous trail. He attempted to do nothing but look after his own footsteps. Sometimes, when it was a little harder to pull the rein, he slackened his pace. It would not do to hurry the animal, since a slight disturbance might cause him to loose his footing. The horse knew what was required of him and would do it better by being left wholly to himself.

It was because of this concentration of his mind upon the one thing that the captain failed to perceive that the mule in his front had stopped walking, until the rim of his slouched hat touched the tail of the motionless animal.

“Helloa, Vose, what’s the matter?”

The guide said something, but kept his face turned away, and his words, instead of being in the nature of an answer, were addressed to some one who confronted him. Adams was of slight stature, so that, although he stood erect, it was easy for the captain to look over his head and see what was beyond. That which was thus revealed was another horseman leading his animal and coming toward them. He was advancing in the same manner as the miners, that is by leading his horse, and, meeting our friends thus face to face, it was impossible for either party to pass: one or the other must give way and retreat.

A startling feature of this meeting was that the individual who thus confronted them was an Indian of gigantic stature. He was more than six feet in height and of massive proportions. He belonged to what were known as the “mountain Indians,” who were brave and of irrestrainable ferocity. They were the most dangerous people met by the miners in the early days on the Pacific slope.

Equity demanded that this particular specimen should back his horse over the few yards to the point where the trail broadened, for the task was possible of accomplishment, while the white men were unable to force their animals in safety for one-half of the distance behind them. Moreover, it was evident that this Indian had deliberately started over the trail, with the knowledge of the four white men approaching, so that a meeting was inevitable. He courted an encounter with them and was in a murderous mood.