A Waif of the Mountains

Nellie was eager to cover all the ground possible, while the opportunity was theirs, and the flight was pushed longer than Russell would have advised. Finally, he insisted they should stop and rest themselves and horses for the remainder of the night. The halting place was selected with much care. The animals were turned loose, where the grass was growing and a small stream wound its way toward a larger one. Then the two, accompanied by Timon, pushed in among the rocks to where the final halt was made.

They were in profound darkness. The lieutenant decided to start a fire, and, with much difficulty, gathered a sufficiency of dried branches. They were fortunate enough to find a partial cavern, so open in front that it would have given slight shelter in the event of a storm. When the blaze threw out its cheerful light, it served to dissipate the gloom which in spite of themselves had oppressed them with the coming of night.

They partook of food and the lieutenant’s spirits rose, for he saw nothing to prevent the full success of the dream which had inspired and thrilled him so long. His buoyancy was infectious, and he brought a smile to the beauteous countenance by his merry sallies, and his picture of the happy future that was close at hand.

“Your father will be angry at first,” he said; “it would be strange if he were not, but he loves you and I think has a pretty fair opinion of me. When he gains time to think over the matter, he will admit the wisdom of what we have done and we shall receive his blessing.”

It was this assurance, more than all else, that served to lift the gloom from her. Deep as was her love for the one at her side, it would not have sufficed to draw her from her adored parent, had she believed that his resentment against her would last. As it was, she grieved that even for a brief time, as she thought would be the case, he should hold harsh feelings toward her.

No chivalrous knight of the Crusades could have been more scrupulously considerate of lady intrusted to his charge than Lieutenant Russell. He would have died before offending Nellie Dawson by act, word or presumptuous thought. When, as the night advanced, the bright eyes began to grow drowsy, he arranged a couch for her, saw that she was well provided with blankets and then turned to the immense dog, who had never left them and who looked as if he understood everything.

“Now, Timon, you are to stay right here,” he said, bending over and impressively shaking his finger at the animal; “you are not to venture a dozen feet from your mistress without permission. Do you understand?”

A whine and wagging of the tail left no doubt that the wishes of his late master were clear to him.

“You have your gun at your side,” he added, turning to Nellie; “I do not think you will have any call to use it. We have not met any Indians and your father cannot overtake us before morning. Timon will be sure to give you warning of the approach of danger, and, if your gun goes off, I shall be here in a twinkling.”

He bade her good night and departed. Enough wood had been flung on the fire to keep it going for an hour or two, but long before it sank to ashes, the girl had drifted into dreamland.

The lieutenant carefully selected his own sleeping quarters. He finally fixed upon a large flat boulder, at the rear of the cavern occupied by Timon and his charge; but, although beyond sight, he was near enough to reach the spot on the instant needed. Spreading out his blanket, he lay down upon it.

“This recalls the old days in Virginia, when mud a foot deep, with the rain dashing in our faces, was what we had for weeks at a time. This couch doesn’t equal a feather bed, but it will answer.”

The night passed without incident and it was hardly light when the young officer was astir. He visited the horses and found them cropping the grass, but he waited until Timon came to him before calling upon Nellie. She, too, had been awake for some time and they partook of their morning meal with rugged appetites.

She was so eager to hurry on that he lost no time in taking the road again. Neither could doubt that their pursuers were on their trail, and, with the aid of his small glass, he carefully studied the country behind them. It was not long before he made the discovery he dreaded: four horsemen were following their footprints, and beyond them were the five Indians picking their way along the ledge in the opposite direction.

The lieutenant passed the glass to his companion who scrutinized the party with the keenest interest.

“They must have traveled all night,” remarked her escort, while she still peered through the instrument.

“That shows how dreadfully angry father is; I hope it will not last.”

“Can you make out the members of the party?”

She studied them a minute or two more before answering:

“I think that is father who is close to the man on a mule.”

“The one on a mule must be Vose Adams, for he is more accustomed to that sort of animal. I am sorry he is with the party.”

“Why?” asked Nellie, lowering the glass and looking at him.

“He is so familiar with the trail, that it will be hard work to outwit him; he isn’t the man to make mistakes. Did you recognize the others?”

“I cannot be sure, but I suspect they are Mr. Ruggles and Mr. Brush.”

“I have no doubt you are right,–not because I was able to identify them, but because the two are partners and your father would naturally go to them first. I do not think any one of the four has a glass, so, despite their sharp eyes, we have a big advantage in that respect.”

“But they know the route better than we, and we are losing time.”

The course of the trail took them out of the field of vision of their pursuers. It was at the suggestion of Russell that the two turned aside from the cañon into the fissure-like gorge. This would have been a serious mistake, except for the plan he had in view, for it must place the pursuers in advance, the very thing which it would seem the fugitives ought if possible to prevent.

The lieutenant had believed from the first that Vose Adams, in threading his way through the mountains, traveled a good many miles more than was necessary. It was quite likely that, if he could follow a straight line, he would shorten the distance one-half. Although this was impossible, the young man, nevertheless, was convinced that by changing the route, a good many miles could be saved: and it was in his mind to do that thing.

The lieutenant’s experience in campaigning had taught him the danger of going astray, when picking his way through an unfamiliar country, but the little compass attached as a charm to his watch chain would help him to keep track of the variations and windings, and he was confident of coming out right. He and Nellie were well mounted and armed, all of which being impressed upon his companion, she offered no objection to the radical change of plan which took them out of the cañon into the ravine that led them they knew not whither, but it was ominous of disaster that at the top of the fissure, when the two were leading their animals, a grievous mishap occurred. The pony of Nellie slipped and sprained his ankle so badly that he whined with pain and paused with his weight supported on three legs.

“That’s a bad go!” exclaimed the dismayed Russell; “it will be several days before he is able to travel.”

She examined the ankle, as best she could, trying to soothe the pain by passing her hand over the injured part, but it was plain that neither she nor her companion could give any help.

“Poor fellow,” she said sympathetically; “you cannot go any further; what shall be done, Fred?”

“Only one thing seems possible,–take you on my horse.”

“And what will become of Cap?”

“We must leave him behind.”

“What will happen to him?”

“Some one will pick him up, or, after his leg recovers, he may find his way back to the settlement.”

The impulsive girl flung her arms about the animal’s neck and touched her lips to the silken nose.

“They shall not part us, Cap,” she exclaimed with tears in her eyes.

The lieutenant watched this by-play, full of sympathy for the girl, but he was in a quandary. Prudence seemed to demand that everything should be sacrificed to speed by abandoning the pony. In all probability, the latter would serve as a dinner for some of the bears, wolves or other denizens of the mountains, who would quickly harry him to death. To wait where they were until the animal was able to travel rendered certain a speedy meeting with their pursuers. The woodcraft of Vose Adams would enable him to discover with slight delay the point where the fugitives had left the cañon, and he would guide his companions with the skill of one of the mountain Indians themselves.

On the other hand, the plan he had in view imposed prodigious work upon his own animal. Between the halting place and Sacramento were many miles of easy traveling, over which he could walk, but for long distances the beast would be compelled to carry double. In the event of close pursuit, this must prove a fatal handicap.

In his perplexity, the lieutenant again examined the hurt of the pony.

“It would be cruel to make him take a single step, but he may soon recover. I am afraid to leave him behind and to continue our flight with only my horse. You know how dangerous it is to linger, Nellie, when it is certain they are not far off–”

She caught his arm and whispered:

“Look at Timon! he has discovered something!”

The dog was standing a few paces in front of them, with his nose pointed toward the cañon. He emitted several growls and pricked up his ears in a way that left no doubt that he was angered. The lieutenant had hardly time to place himself in an attitude of defence with his Winchester, when a soft footfall was heard, and the next moment Vose Adams emerged from behind the pile of rocks and approached them.

It was proof of the guide’s woodcraft that he was able to come thus close before being detected by Timon, who advanced threateningly toward him. A word, however, from the lieutenant stayed the dog.

“Well, Vose,” said the young man, “this is unexpected.”

“So I jedge and I’ve a ’spicion that you ain’t tickled half to death to see me.”

“We were always friends, but I can’t say that either Nellie or I am glad to meet you under the circumstances; for in truth, we have been doing all we could to prevent such a meeting.”

“Things has that look,” added Vose, standing on guard as may be said, for he was not free from misgiving concerning the young lieutenant whom he had managed to run down. His positive orders forbade him to assume the aggressive, but no one could forbid him to defend himself, and he did not mean that this handsome officer should catch him unprepared.

“Whom have you with you?” asked Russell.

“The captain, Wade Ruggles and the parson.”

“What we suspected; I presume no one of the three feels specially affectionate toward me.”

“It is all the captain can do to prevent the other two from quarrelin’ as to which shall have the first chance to shoot you.”

“Why does Captain Dawson prevent them?”

“’Cause he means to have the first chance himself.”

“How about you?” grimly asked Lieutenant Russell.

“I’m left.”

“How’s that?”

“A low down trick was played onto me; as near as I can find out, the captain comes first, Wade and the parson next and me fourth. You can see for yourself that there won’t be any chance at all left for me after them three is through.”

“It doesn’t look so,–that’s a fact. But where are the three?”

“Along the main trail, down in the kenyon.”

“Why did they not come with you?”

“I advised ’em to wait till I found out how the land laid and they won’t leave the spot till I get back.”

Lieutenant Russell gave no expression to the thought that flashed upon him. Why not keep Vose Adams a prisoner? The loss of his services to the party would be irreparable, for, as it was, the present hiding place of the fugitives never would have become known to them without the help of the guide. It was a daring scheme, but there were so many objections to carrying it out, that the officer dismissed it. In truth he thought of a much better plan.

“You have told me enough, Vose, to prove that the four men–for I may as well include yourself–feel bitterer toward me than I suspected: do you think this enmity of theirs will last?”

“Not for long.”

“How long?”

“They’ll let up as soon as you’re shot.”

Lieutenant Russell could not restrain a smile at this way of putting it, while Nellie was so horrified that she gasped and stared and listened in silence.

“There can be little doubt that you are right, but I meant to ask whether you do not think the captain will moderate his anger when he is given time to think it over.”

“He has had all night to do that, and this mornin’ he was hotter if anything, than at any time since he larned what you had done.”

“When did he learn it?”

Thereupon, Vose told the facts which have already been made known to the reader, the most interesting feature of which was that Adams was not an original member of the pursuing party. But, although the guide was so pronounced in his opinion of the continuance of the enmity of Captain Dawson, the lieutenant believed otherwise. He was confident that if he and Nellie could reach Sacramento before meeting the irate father, the latter would be open to reason, and all would turn out well.

Vose turned to the young woman.

“Nellie, do you want a little advice from me?”

“I am glad to have it at any time.”

“Howsumever, what I say is as much for the leftenant as for you, which the same is that both of you should give up this bus’ness.”

“But,” said Nellie, “you have just told us that father is so angry with Lieutenant Russell that he will shoot him the moment they meet.”

“We can fix that easy ’nough; let the leftenant stay here while you go with me; I think we can explain matters to the captain and the others so they won’t bother the leftenant.”

“And what am I to do?” asked Russell.

“Push on to Sacramento as fast as you can, for though I think I can fix it, I wouldn’t advise you to take too many chances.”

“In other words, after Nellie and I have fled from the settlement and got this far on the road to safety, you urge me to give her up forever.”

“Wal, that’s lookin’ a little further ahead than I meant to, but I ’spose it amounts to that.”

“You mean well, Vose, but do you imagine that Nellie and I did not count the cost before turning our backs on New Constantinople? Don’t you suppose we knew we should be pursued and were prepared for the consequences?”

“I can’t say as to that, but it strikes me that the plan I laid before you is the only one there is.”

“Why?”

“You cannot get away from the captain and the men with him.”

“Well, there is no call for me to repeat my opinion, but I will say that the decision shall rest with Nellie herself. If she wishes to go with you I will interpose not a word of objection.”

He looked toward her as an invitation for her to speak. There was a world of affection and faith in the lustrous eyes, as she walked resolutely forward and placed herself by his side.

“Only death shall separate us!”

CHAPTER XXIV

AN UNEXPECTED ALLY

The lovelight shone in the eyes of Lieutenant Russell, as he looked down at the slight figure beside him. He tenderly passed his arm around the girl and touched his lips to her forehead.

“It was not that I doubted you, Nellie,” he said, “but that Vose might know the full truth.”

Then turning to the guide, he asked:

“Do you still advise her to leave me?”

Vose Adams was unaccustomed to scenes like this. He moved about uneasily, coughed, cleared his throat, and for a few minutes was at a loss for words.

“I don’t know what to advise,” he finally said; “but don’t you think, if she could go to the captain and let him see how she feels, he will give in? How would it do for both of you to walk back with your arms round each other’s neck and sayin’ sweet words–wouldn’t that fetch him? Hanged, if I know what to tell you!” he exclaimed desperately, observing the smiles on their faces.

“I am afraid your plan wouldn’t work,” said the lieutenant, “but you have proved yourself the very friend we need.”

These words were a hint of the scheme that had come into the brain of the young officer. Had he made a prisoner of Vose Adams, as he thought for a minute of doing, the guide would really be more dangerous, since there was no way of guarding against his treachery, but if he could be turned into a friend, it would be almost equivalent to saving the fugitives. It was that for which the young man planned, but he felt that the real work must be done by Nellie. He could not win the good will of Vose, but she could, for who was able to resist her appeals?

It was a proof of the brightness of the girl that she caught the purpose of her escort the moment his last words were uttered, and she performed her part with a cleverness that could not have been surpassed.

Tears were in the eyes of the emotional Nellie, but she stepped across the brief intervening space and laid her hand on the arm of Adams.

“How glad I am, Vose, that you will help us, for you have told enough to show that it will not do for us to meet father for some time to come; we are now in your hands.”

“Blamed if I won’t do anything I can! But what can I do? ’Spose I sneak back, shoot the captain and then plug Ruggles and the parson? Will that suit you?”

“Gracious; I should rather you would kill me than harm a hair of father’s head.”

“Wal, ’spose I shoot you and the leftenant and the captain and the rest? No; that won’t do; how the mischief shall I fix things?”

The cooler headed Russell saw that the problem had been solved; Nellie Dawson had won over Vose Adams, as may be said, by the turn of her finger. He was eager to do all he could to help them, but in the flurry of the moment could not reason with his usual acumen.

“We don’t want any shooting, Vose; I am sure that if we can reach Sacramento without meeting the captain, his anger will pass away. In Sacramento, I shall be able to arrange a meeting between him and his daughter, and his love for her will break down the barriers and do the rest.”

“I’m in too deep water when you get to figgerin’ that way, but there seems to be reason in what you say, but what about Ruggles and the parson?”

“We’ll leave them out; they are in this as the friends of Captain Dawson, and will not dare go contrary to his wishes, but if they do, it can make no difference to my plan.”

“They’re just as savage as the captain,” said Vose significantly; “and it won’t do to forget ’em; but what did you expect to do, when you left the kenyon? If you come back, you would have been sartin to meet us, and what then?”

“My intention was not to return, but to keep away from the main trail and hunt a shorter road through the mountains to Sacramento.”

Vose Adams gave a low whistle of astonishment.

“That’s the worst I ever heard!”

“And why?”

“You’re not follerin’ any trail at all; you would be sartin to get lost and would never find your way through the mountains; anyhow it would take you three or four years, which I ca’clate is longer than you want to wait.”

“How can you be so positive?”

“It’s true I never went to Sacramento and back, except by follerin’ for most of the way the trail that I know so well, but other folks as smart as you have been lost in the mountains and you couldn’t help it.”

“You advise against it then?”

“I’m so sure of your goin’ wrong that I won’t try to help you unless you give up the idee.”

“Then I hereby give it up.”

Since Vose Adams had committed himself to Russell and Nellie’s interests, there was no more talking at cross purposes. The object of the three was the same, and they sat down on the rocks for consultation. There was abundance of time in which to do this, since those whom they feared would not leave the cañon until the return of their guide, and he did not mean to go back until the day was so far spent that further delay was unavoidable.

“They will be mad when they see me,” he said with a grin, “but it won’t do them any good and I’ll fix up a yarn about gettin’ on and then off your trail agin, that they’ll have to be satisfied with.”

“That will serve for to-night, but you will all be astir at an early hour to-morrow morning.”

“They will still have to depend on me to guide ’em, and I rather think I can steer ’em off the track, so as to give you plenty of time to get out of the way.”

“How?”

“As soon as they leave the kenyon, that is as soon as the way is clear, you must ride back to it and put on all steam for Sacramento, for I understand, leftenant, that you’ve give up your idee of finding a new route through the mountains.”

“I have.”

“You’ve got two good animals and you’ll gain a full day’s start.”

“You forget about poor Cap,” said Nellie.

“So I did! if he can’t go with you, you’ll have to leave him behind and ride double, but it will be rather tough on your horse, leftenant.”

“Nellie doesn’t weigh enough to make any difference, and I expect to walk most of the distance.”

An unexpected piece of good fortune raised the spirits of the three. To the amazement of all, Cap, the pony, was seen hunting for grass and bearing upon the lame foot with little inconvenience. That which was thought to be a bad sprain was only a wrench, from which he promised speedily to recover.

“He’ll be as well as ever by to-morrow mornin’,” said Vose Adams; “you’ll need to humor him at first, but not for long.”

As has been intimated, the guide remained with them through most of the afternoon, for, if he had gone back to his friends earlier than he did, he would not have dared to offer any excuse for not leading them in the pursuit, and he meant to avert all possibility of that. The reader understands by this time why the guide formulated such an astounding fiction when attempting to explain the cause of his delay. Had his listeners been in cooler mood, they might have tangled him up with a few questions, but their exasperation and disgust prevented.

Before parting with the fugitives, Vose assured them that he was confident their plans could not fail.

“All they’ve got to do,” he reflected, “is to do nothing afore to-morrow and then when the road is open, strike out over the main trail as hard as they can travel. I hope none of them Injins that we had the row with will be pokin’ ’round to-night, for if there’s to be any trouble, it’ll come from them.”

It will be recalled that the story of Adams was received with such coolness that he indignantly resigned and told the captain to run matters himself.

“And he’ll make purty work of it,” chortled Vose “he won’t be able to come within miles of where they are hidin’.”

When the moody silence had lasted for some time, the guide was moved to remark in a more conciliatory spirit:

“There’s one thing that mustn’t be forgot: Colonel Briggs and his folks won’t make any trouble, but we’re not done with them Injins.”

“Isn’t there likelihood that Colonel Briggs will divert them?” asked the parson.

“No; for the redskins can’t be fooled; they’ll know it wasn’t any of the colonel’s folks that give their chief his walkin’ papers, but us, and they’re the sort of people that don’t forget a thing of that kind.”

“I was thinking of hunting up enough wood to start a fire,” said the captain; “but we don’t need it, and I suppose it will be safer without it.”

“It seems to me,” observed Ruggles, “that what we’ve got the most to fear is that the Injins will run off with our animals: we would be left in a bad fix.”

“We must look out for that; I’ll stand guard the first part of the night.”

Each was ready to take his turn, and it was arranged that Captain Dawson should act as sentinel until midnight, when he would awake Vose Adams, who would assume the duty till morning. Soon afterward, the three wrapped themselves in their blankets and stretched out on the ground, near the boulders, where they speedily sank into deep slumber.

It seemed to Adams that he had slept less than an hour, when the captain touched him. Rising immediately to a sitting position, he asked:

“Is it midnight?”

“It’s a half hour past.”